Book Addict Reviews

What is it About Islands?

2012-02-01T07:18:00.000-06:00

I have always wanted to live in an island. Maybe it's longing for the sea while living in the middle of the country, or wanting to be set apart from the rest of the world, but I have often thought with longing about a small house overlooking the sea, reached only by boat. I've always thought Nantucket or Martha's Vineyard (I am a New England girl by temperament if not by birth), but after reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Annie Barrows and Mary Anne Shaffer, I think that the Channel Islands might be a good choice as well.

The novel is told through letters and telegrams between Juliet Ashton and various residents of the island of Guernsey in the months after the end of World War II. The Channel Islands were occupied by Germany during the war, and the residents were completely cut off from the rest of England. For five years they had no news about what was happening in the rest of the world-no newspapers, no radios, no letters from family or from their children, who they sent to the mainland before the invasion. One night, after dining on a forbidden pig with friends, a group of islanders was caught out after curfew. On the spot, one brave young woman, Elizabeth, created a fictional literary society to explain why they were out together. In order to put the truth to their lie, the small group of friends created an actual book club, and their meetings allowed many of the members to keep their sanity in the midst of war. Years later, one of the members contacts Juliet Ashton, a journalist and author, to say how much he enjoyed a book that once belonged to her that he found in a used book shop. Their correspondence leads Juliet to the island, and to a story both tragic and triumphant of love and friendship in a time of war.

I started out thinking that I was not going to love this book. I am not that fond of epistolary novels, and the last one I read (check out my not-so glowing review of Between Friends) was so bad that I almost put this book back down once I'd picked it up. But after resisting the pull of the story for 50 pages or so, I was drawn completely into the lives of the characters. Juliet reminded me of a character from a period mystery I read recently (this time a glowing review of A Duty to the Dead)-a spunky, scrappy, snarky, but ultimately kind and loving young woman. And I think that the reason that this worked where Between Friends did not is because each of the letter writers had such a distinctive voice. Despite everything being told second hand, the novel felt very intimate and personal, and I felt like the character development was pretty good. But what really made the novel work for me was the historical events it was based on.

I knew that the Channel Islands were occupied during WWII, and I already had some vague idea about their relation to France and England politically (which is to say, they "belong" to England but have their own government, a bit like Puerto Rico, I suppose). But this novel filled in some details in my admittedly sketchy picture of that period in British history. And like any good historical novel, it led me to do some more reading and research on the topic. Rather than using lots of long exposition to provide background, the stories of the islanders comes out in dribs and drabs over the course of Juliet's relationship with them, and the novel feels light and easy to read, while at the same time having some substance-not an easy balance to maintain, but one that Burrows and Shaffer pull off rather well.

Deep Pockets, Linda Barnes

2012-01-25T08:41:00.000-06:00

Wilson Chaney, a Harvard professor, comes to Carlotta Carlyle for help finding a blackmailer. Turns out that he had an affair with a student, who has since died in a fire. He wants Carlotta to retrieve some letters that he wrote to her and protect his marriage and his reputation. But as Carlotta starts tracking the victim, the last few weeks of the girl's life, and the probable blackmailer, she discovers there is much more at stake than one Harvard professor's reputation. Wilson Chaney is working on a new drug for treating Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, one that shows the promise of help for millions of kids-and for lots of profits to whoever gets it to market first.

Barnes' character Carlotta Carlyle is one of my favorite female PIs. Carlotta-private investigator, sometime cabby, and life-long Boston resident, shows a resiliency and independence that is common in the best written female lead characters. With a new love interest in FBI agent Leon, her quirky roommate Roz, and her little "sister" Paolina, Carlotta has her hands full even without a troublesome client and someone trying to kill her. Add former love interest and mob boss Sam Gianelli, and there is enough personal and professional intrigue going on to keep the reader interested for all 320 pages. While the mystery itself is not as intricate as some (I did figure it out by about half-way thorough the book), it is an enjoyable popcorn book.

I Still Don't Like Hemingway, But...

2012-01-14T15:33:00.000-06:00

...if The Paris Wife is an accurate historical portrayal of his early literary life, then I feel like I can forgive some of his macho, sexist writing.

In case you lived under a literary rock for the last 12 months, The Paris Wife is the fictionalized story of Hadley Hemingway ne Richardson, who was Ernest Hemingway's first wife (out of four total). Based on extensive research into the Hemingways' time in Paris, the novel starts in Chicago, where a young Hadley meets an even younger Ernest at a party. Instantly drawn to each other, the two start an affair that eventually leads to marriage. Despite the disapproval of both families, Ernest and Hadley set off for Paris, the happening scene for writers and artists in the very early 20th century. Surrounded by such literary giants and Ezra Pound, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Gertrude Stein, Ernest sets about the serious business of writing. Hadley, left to her own devices most of the time, loses herself in his career. Over time, their relationship cannot withstand the darkness in his own soul, or his affair with a young editor at Vogue.

I've managed to read one and a half Hemingway novels, and a few of his short stories. The one I remember best is Hills Like White Elephants, about a woman who wants to have a baby with her husband but he wants her to have an abortion so he doesn't have to change his rather selfish lifestyle. Not exactly endearing. I've always been put off by his very violent ideas about manhood, and his rather apparent disrespect for women. Having read The Paris Wife, however, I am better able to put his ideas in not just a historical context, but a more personal, emotional one.

What I didn't know about him before reading this book was that he was injured in the first World War, and that he spent most of the rest of his life trying to stare down death, terrified by his own morality. Constantly afraid of being seen as cowardly or weak, he actively sought out experiences, like the bullfights in Pamplona, to convince himself of his own strength. His war experiences, coupled with his depressive nature and the history of mental illness in his family, suddenly I see his overly-macho definition of what it means to be a man in a new light. And while I still don't like his fiction, and I still think that he was a philandering sexist, at least now I have a context to put it in. I now have compassion where before was only contempt.

Live to Tell, Lisa Gardner

2012-01-08T19:52:00.000-06:00

Lisa Gardner writes psychological thrillers that show some of the darkest places that the human mind can go. Most of her novels, whether stand alone or part of her D.D. Warren series, explore the complicated relationships we often have with our parents, spouses, or children. Live to Tell is no exception. In this fast paced, fairly creepy thriller, D.D. Warren and her team are called in to investigate the apparent murder/suicide of a family of five. However, there are things about the scene that don't add up, and it soon becomes apparent that what was staged to look like a family annihilation was in fact the cold-blooded murder of a happy couple and their children. When another family is killed in a similar way, D.D. knows that they are looking for someone truly disturbed, who appears to be reenacting a family annihilation from the past. Tying all of the victims together is a child psych unit for the most acute cases-children who have psychoses so severe that they are a real danger to themselves and their families. Danielle Burton, one of the psychiatric nurses, was the lone survivor of a family annihilation herself, and soon D. D. come to believe that she may be the key to solving the whole case.

A word to the wise-this book is not for the faint of heart. The description of he troubled children and the things they are capable of was chilling. As horrific as the crimes themselves were, reading about a little boy who is so cunning and violent that he lies in wait for his mother in order to follow through on his threat to kill her was worse. But the setting of the locked children's psych ward was fascinating, and the mystery itself had enough twists and turns that there is more than the slightly creepy draw of the psychotic children. This popcorn comes with a side of crazy, but it is an enjoyable ride nonetheless.

A Duty to the Dead-Popcorn from World War I

2012-01-01T14:21:00.000-06:00

Take a soldier's dying wish, an independent battlefield nurse, a decades old secret, and a madman in an asylum, put them together into a deliciously engaging story, and you have A Duty to the Dead by Charles Todd.

Here's what Goodreads has to say about the plot:

England, 1916. Independent-minded Bess Crawford's upbringing is far different from that of the usual upper-middle-class British gentlewoman. Growing up in India, she learned the importance of responsibility, honor, and duty from her officer father. At the outbreak of World War I, she followed in his footsteps and volunteered for the nursing corps, serving from the battlefields of France to the doomed hospital ship Britannic.
On one voyage, Bess grows fond of the young, gravely wounded Lieutenant Arthur Graham. Something rests heavily on his conscience, and to give him a little peace as he dies, she promises to deliver a message to his brother. It is some months before she can carry out this duty, and when she's next in England, she herself is recovering from a wound.
When Bess arrives at the Graham house in Kent, Jonathan Graham listens to his brother's last wishes with surprising indifference. Neither his mother nor his brother Timothy seems to think it has any significance. Unsettled by this, Bess is about to take her leave when sudden tragedy envelops her. She quickly discovers that fulfilling this duty to the dead has thrust her into a maelstrom of intrigue and murder that will endanger her own life and test her courage as not even war has.

I loved the character of Bess. She was independent and strong-willed, traits I especially like in my heroines. But what really made the book for me was the very British-ness of is all. You've got the references to serving in India that always remind me of The Secret Garden, family estates, the whole upstairs/downstairs vibe, the country rectory, and the whole asylum thing. Plus lots and lots of tea. Todd brought a Victorian sensibility to the Edwardian era-change the war they are fighting and the reference to motor-cars and this book could have taken place 50 years earlier.

One of the things that drew me into the novel was the examination of the family dynamics that led to the tragic events that unfold. So much of British upper class life was kept under wraps out of propriety's sake that figuring out exactly what is going on in any given family is a bit like opening one of those gifts within a gift-you know, where someone wraps a small box inside a larger box and so on-except usually what is discovered when you get to the final layer of these family dramas is not nearly as nice as a present.

This is the first of a new series by Todd with Bess as the main character, and I look forward to following her on many more mysteries.

Pop Pop Poppity Pop: A Plague of Secrets, John Lescroart

2011-12-31T09:01:00.000-06:00

Summary, from Goodreads-

The first victim is Dylan Vogler, a charming ex-convict who manages the Bay Beans West coffee shop in San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury district. When his body is found, inspectors discover that his knapsack is filled with high-grade marijuana. It soon becomes clear that San Francisco's A-list flocked to Bay Beans West not only for their caffeine fix.
But how much did Maya Townshend-the beautiful socialite niece of the city's mayor, and the absentee owner of the shop-know about what was going on inside her business? And how intimate had she really been with Dylan, her old college friend?
As another of Maya's acquaintances falls victim to murder, and as the names of the dead men's celebrity, political, and even law- enforcement customers come to light, tabloid-fueled controversy takes the investigation into the realms of conspiracy and cover-up. Prosecutors close in on Maya, who has a deep secret of her own-a secret she needs to protect at all costs during her very public trial, where not only her future but the entire political landscape of San Francisco hangs in the balance, hostage to an explosive secret that Dismas Hardy is privilege-bound to protect.

Dismas Hardy and the rest of the cast of characters from Lescroart's books are some of my favorites. Lescroart does a decent job of making them into real people, and I care about what happens to them. The mystery itself is fairly compelling, and there is enough misdirection to make it unlikely you'll figure out whodunnit early enough to ruin the rest of the book. There was a bit more deus ex machina in this one than I usually care for-from the accident that took homicide detective Abe Glitsy's eye off the ball, to the last minute detail that reveals the true killer, it was a little less Hardy being brilliant (though he was) and a little more luck of the draw, but enjoyable nonetheless. A good popcorn read, especially if you are following the series. If you've never read Lescroart before, go back and start at the beginning of the Dismas Hardy series-you won't be disappointed!

Life Sentences by Laura Lippman

2011-12-24T11:38:00.000-06:00

For many years I prided myself on the fact that I never gave up on a book. Even if a book was not really doin' it for me, I stuck with it, sure that the author was trying to convey something that I just needed to work a little harder to pick up on. After all, they took the time and care to write the darn thing-I should at least put in the time and effort to finish it.

Then one day (perhaps struck by a growing sense of my own mortality) I decided that there are too many good books in the world to waste my precious reading time on bad ones, and I've put down many a snoozer since. But not my favorite authors. Surely if I have loved everything a person has ever written, then if I just keep slogging through one of their books I will find that moment of joy in the written word. Surely my favorite authors would not let me down?

Laura Lippman, I am sad to say, you've let me down.

Life Sentences is the story of Cassandra Fallows, an author who became successful writing about her father's infidelities and their affect on her. After writing a less-than-stellar novel, she goes home to Baltimore to mine her childhood friendships for another memoir, something that will take her back to her bestseller status. The irony is that in writing about an author who is afraid she's lost her mojo, Lippman has written a novel that shows that perhaps her mojo took a bit of a vacation.

The impetus for Cassandra's return to her childhood home is the story of an old schoolmate of hers who went to jail for seven years rather than reveal what happened to her infant, who disappeared and was never found. In revisiting her childhood friendships, Cassandra discovers just how fallible memory can be. Her old friends are upset with her portrayal of them in print, and they refuse to help her find their old classmate. Lots of intrigue ensues, revealing a conspiracy that involves politicians, blackmail, and twenty years of secrets.

To which I say "yawn". Lippman usually pairs really good character development with intriguing plots to create suspense novels that are not formulaic, but little windows into human behavior. Her novels usually carry some kind of emotional punch, but I found myself not really caring what happened to any of the characters, including the narrator. I made myself stick with it, partly for the reason above and partly because the mystery was (just) engaging enough to make me want to know how it resolved, but even the ending was a disappointment-more whimper than wow. Since this Lippman book is a stand-alone, I'd say skip it. Her Tess Monaghan books and other stand-alones are a much better use of your reading time!

The Buddha in the Attic

2011-12-22T11:41:00.003-06:00

The experience of immigrant groups in the United States is something that has interested me ever since I took a multicultural education class a few years ago. I read some really moving testimonials from people of various immigrant groups (beginning with Italians and the Irish and moving on through Chinese, Japanese, and Mexican) describing their experiences (or the family stories passed down by their grandparents) and how their families never gave up on making it in America.

My own family immigration history is fairly recent. My paternal grandparents came to America in the early 20th century from Quebec. They settled in New England, in an area where there was already a community for them to join. While my great-grandparents spoke Quebecois French almost exclusively, it did not take long for my grandmother and grandfather to learn English and assimilate into mainstream American culture. My grandfather fought in World War II, and was proud to serve the nation he saw as his, even though he had only been in the US for half of his rather short life at that point.

We as a society have never been particularly welcoming to new arrivals, regardless of where they are from or what the words on the Statue of Liberty may imply about how inclusive we pretend we are. The myth propagated is that as long as immigrants are willing to work-hard and respect American values we will accept them with open arms. The reality is that every immigrant group has started out on the lowest rung of American society, doing the jobs that no one wants to do, being discriminated against in public services, and being used as a pawn by politicians who want to scare people with the image of being overrun by the "other". Perhaps the most egregious case of this phenomenon happened to the Japanese in America during World War II. It is this immigrant experience that Julie Otsuka chronicles in her book The Buddha in the Attic.

Otsuka's book is written in the third person plural, from the perspective of women who were brought to the United States from Japan after World War I as wives to Japanese men they had never met. This rather interesting literary device is used to highlight the similarities of the immigrant experience for these women, even as it describes the variety of experiences that defined them as farm laborers, shop clerks, maids, and laundry workers. This very short novel, spare in its language, presents a portrait of women who try to find some way to survive in a world that has turned upside down, taking them away from everything they know to a world where not even the man they are going to marry is familiar. Through back-breaking, heartbreaking work, they bring children into the world, and watch them become more American than Japanese. Despite their fear that their children are moving away from them, they are hopeful that their futures will be better-until World War II brings it all crashing down around them again.

Like Otsuka's first book, When the Emperor Was Divine, The Buddha in the Attic is filled with carefully chosen words, meant to evoke specific ideas and feelings without extraneous language. While occasionally the long, collective paragraphs start to feel a bit listy, the book works because the snippets of women's stories that are elaborated upon are compelling enough to provide a frame for the rest. By the end I felt overwhelmed by the struggles of these women-and once more furious and regretful that it is my country, whose ideals I revere, that interned so many of our own citizens out of racial fear and prejudice.

Nothing speaks as well to the way that communities changed after internment as the last portion of the book. Suddenly, instead of the voices of the women, the narrator changes to a collective white American voice. That voice describes how ignorant and/or arrogant white society was during World War II, when any injustice could be justified if it was for "national security" purposes (Sound familiar? Patriot Act, anyone?). What was startling was not just that people seemed to approve of their improper jailing of their neighbors, but that any negative reaction to it came from a selfish concern about who would pick their crops/clean their shirts/scrub their toilets. As a reader, I couldn't help but wonder what happened to the women who's lives I had been invited into, and perhaps that's the most startling thing-that an entire group of people can just be disappeared while the rest of us go about our lives.

Pop Pop Poppity Pop: Obedience by Will Lavender

2011-12-21T09:59:00.001-06:00

A good popcorn book is one that is entertaining but easy...something that doesn't require a ton of cognitive energy but is still engaging. Most mysteries and thrillers fall easily into this category for me-books that I read when my brain is already busy with meetings, paperwork, lesson plans, and grading. Obedience by Will Lavender falls into this category, but just barely. It's not exactly the "thinking man's" thriller, but it's convoluted storyline at times made me break a little sweat.

Given the complicated plot and the fact that I've only had half a cup of coffee so far this morning, I'll use the Goodreads summary:

When the students in Winchester University’s Logic and Reasoning 204 arrive for their first day of class, they are greeted not with a syllabus or texts, but with a startling assignment from Professor Williams: Find a hypothetical missing girl named Polly. If after being given a series of clues and details the class has not found her before the end of the term in six weeks, she will be murdered.

At first the students are as intrigued by the premise of their puzzle as they are wary of the strange and slightly creepy Professor Williams. But as they delve deeper into the mystery, they begin to wonder: Is the Polly story simply a logic exercise, designed to teach them rational thinking skills, or could it be something more sinister and dangerous?

The mystery soon takes over the lives of three students as they find disturbing connections between Polly and themselves. Characters that were supposedly fictitious begin to emerge in reality. Soon, the boundary between the classroom assignment and the real world becomes blurred—and the students wonder if it is their own lives they are being asked to save.

As first novels go, this one is fairly well written, especially for the genre. The characters feel like real people, and the way that the mystery unfolds creates a pretty creepy, obsessive feeling in the reader (at least, in this reader). Given the number of thrillers I've read it's hard to find a plot that really keeps me guessing, but I didn't have this one figured out til close to the end, and not because the author pulls one of those deus-ex-machina maneuvers that tick me off. I actually thought several times while reading the book that it would make a good movie, the kind that people leave the theater shaking their heads over because they feel like they just went on a mindbending ride. If you are looking for a not-too-mindless popcorn book, this is definitely a decent choice.

What If?

2011-12-17T09:34:00.000-06:00

This weekend during youth group at church, my youth played a game where everyone writes a question on a piece of paper, then we crumple them up into balls and have a "snowball" fight. Everyone reads their question aloud and answers it. Some of the questions are silly, but some of the questions really cause the person to think, and can start some great discussions. Here is the question that struck me Sunday morning-"If you could kill someone with the power of your mind, and no one would know, would you do it?"

This question led to a discussion of Unitarian Universalist values, as the activity is supposed to ultimately do. But it also led to a discussion of whether it is possible to change history. If you add the ability to time travel to the ability to kill people with your mind, many of my youth said that maybe going back and killing Hitler as an infant would be an acceptable use of that power. Because you already know what evil he created, and you would have a responsibility to stop it. This exact idea is the central focus of Stephen King's latest tome, 11/22/63.

In the book, small town high school teacher named Jake Epping is floating through a rather drab existence. Newly single, he spends his days teaching, grading papers, and eating his meals at a local diner. One day the diner's owner and chief fry cook, A,l shares a secret with Jake-in the back of his store is an unexplained tear in the fabric of time. Step through that tear and it takes you back to the same exact time on the same exact day in 1958. No matter how long you stay or what you do while you are there, stepping through the tear resets any effect you may have had on the past. Since Al discovered this mysterious tear, he's been travelling back and forth frequently. His last trip lasted four years-because he had a mission, one that a lung cancer diagnosis is now forcing him to push on Jake. His mission-to stop the assassination of JFK by Lee Harvey Oswald, thereby stopping one of the most turbulent times in American history. At least, that's this theory...

What follows is a loooooong history lesson about Lee Harvey Oswald. Jake studies Oswald like a scientist, trying to discern what kind of man he was, what kind of husband he was, whether he did, in fact act alone...He follows his movements, and as a result we learn a lot about the man who shot Kennedy.

At 849 pages, this is one of King's doorstops of a book, but unlike Under the Dome, which I thought could be shortened by a hundred pages or so, I was riveted every moment of this one. Maybe it's the historical fiction lover in me, but I actually liked the minute descriptions of Oswald's life, and King provides a personal storyline for Jake that is mildly predictable but very engaging. Not horror by any means, this genre bending book-part historical fiction part science fiction-evokes the optimism of mid-20th Century America and the tension that builds as Jake gets closer to his goal. And if he succeeds, will things really be better? Consider this a novel of unintended consequences...

Between Friends, Debbie Macomber

2011-11-29T12:23:00.000-06:00

I have always thought that the phrase "women's fiction" was somehow a slight (or not so slight) put down of the kind of stories that women find enjoyable or meaningful. While it is certainly not a universal fact that all women like to read stories about family, relationships, and friendships, it is certainly true that much of the fiction marketed to women as women's fiction is just that. I have mixed feelings about the type of novel that is labeled "women's fiction". Like any other genre, some is better written and more literary than others. On the spectrum from serious literature to fluff, I find myself most comfortable on the more literary end. The titles on the fluff end tend to feel a bit too much like a Lifetime Movie to me-trite, easy platitudes or oversimplified stories about complex issues of domestic violence, sexual assault, or family dynamics.

Sadly, my book club's November pick, Macomber's book Between Friends, falls a little too far to the fluff end for me. The epistolary novel is tells the story of two women, wealthy Jillian and her poor friend Lesley, who become friends as children and maintain that friendship throughout the trials and tribulations of their lives. While I don't have a problem with an epistolary novel in theory, in practice I find they often do more "telling" than "showing". Telling a story through a series of letters and other documents relieves the author of the need to actually develop characters, evoke feeling through setting or events, or write intelligent, meaningful dialogue. This book felt like a novel written in hearsay-there is little immediacy to the events, which I think takes away from any emotional impact.

I was also disturbed by how stereotypical the characters lives were. Lesley, the daughter of an abusive alcoholic, goes on to marry an abusive alcoholic after he gets her pregnant. Because she is a devout Catholic, she stays with him "for the children", and refuses to use birth control, ending up with three more children before she finally decides enough is enough. Jillian, the daughter of privilege, rebels in high school by falling in love with the gas jockey with a heart of gold-who just happens to get killed in Viet Nam, clearing the way for her to go on to the pricey private school and career as a lawyer that she was destined to have from the start. I can't cite too many other examples, mostly because I couldn't finish reading the book, but suffice it to say that I was unimpressed. One of the women in my book club reminded me that in the 1950s and 60s there were some women exactly like Lesley and Jillian. My response to her was, "I can acknowledge that without wanting to read a hole book about it."

My best friend has one other major complaint, which I share. Somehow these two women from Washington state, one of whom has only a high school education and rarely leaves her hometown, are connected to every major event in American life for 50 years. My friend called it "Forest Gump" syndrome, after that charming movie about mildly retarded Forest and his many brushes with greatness. Difference is, on screen it worked. In this book it just seems contrived. All in all, I'm pretty sure I will not be reading a Debbie Macomber book again any time soon.

A Book Lover's Dream-or Nightmare!

2011-11-10T09:38:00.000-06:00

Here is but one of the many reasons that I love Stephen King as an author-who else would think to write a horror story about the Kindle, for the Kindle? OK, I suppose it could seem a little gimmicky, but it works!

UR is a novella about Wesley Smith, an English professor at a mediocre college in a small town in Kentucky. After a vicious fight with his girlfriend over his reading habits, he buys a Kindle out of spite. Sure that his purchase will be a passing fad in his reading life, he begins searching for titles. What he finds astonishes him-the Kindle seems to have access to alternate realities where his favorite authors lived longer, and wrote MORE BOOKS! Or they died when they were "supposed" to, but wrote DIFFERENT BOOKS! Seriously, what else could a reader ask for but hundreds of new titles in millions of alternate realities from their favorite authors? You could do nothing else but read for the rest of your life and never get through all of them! Which is exactly where I thought the story was going. King does a good job with obsession-I thought that this would be a return to Needful Things.

But not only does the new Kindle let you download titles from alternate realities, it also lets you check out the New York Times, and the local news. Difference is, with the local news, instead of getting alternate versions, you get the future of the reality you live in. And what Wesley sees in his future is too terrible to contemplate.

This is King at his short story/novella best. He sets the scene, develops a character seamlessly, and moves you right along. I was so intrigued by the whole idea of the Ur alternates. Of course, anyone familiar with King's Dark Tower series knows that the Ur references the various levels of the Tower, and I was not surprised when the low men showed up to punish Wes for his paradox infraction. But you don't have to have read the 3600+ Dark Tower books to appreciate and enjoy UR.

Zoli, by Colum McCann

2011-11-09T14:04:00.000-06:00

Colum McCann finds the world to be a dark, seedy place where nothing good can last. At least, that's what I think he feels after reading or trying to read two of his books. Last year I read Let the Great World Spin, as a part of my effort to read more male authors, and more literary fiction. Reading that review now, I can see that my feelings on McCann's writing are very similar now, having tried unsuccessfully to read his novel Zoli.

Here is what Amazon has to say about the plot of Zoli,

A unique love story, a tale of loss, a parable of Europe, this haunting novel is an examination of intimacy and betrayal in a community rarely captured so vibrantly in contemporary literature.

Zoli Novotna, a young woman raised in the traveling Gypsy tradition, is a poet by accident as much as desire. As 1930s fascism spreads over Czechoslovakia, Zoli and her grandfather flee to join a clan of fellow Romani harpists. Sharpened by the world of books, which is often frowned upon in the Romani tradition, Zoli becomes the poster girl for a brave new world. As she shapes the ancient songs to her times, she finds her gift embraced by the Gypsy people and savored by a young English expatriate, Stephen Swann.

But Zoli soon finds that when she falls she cannot fall halfway–neither in love nor in politics. While Zoli’s fame and poetic skills deepen, the ruling Communists begin to use her for their own favor. Cast out from her family, Zoli abandons her past to journey to the West, in a novel that spans the 20th century and travels the breadth of Europe.

Sounds like a sweeping tale of love and transcendence, doesn't it? Instead, reading it felt like being sunk into a dark, bleak world where even the most beautiful, innocent things were tainted by something cold and dreary. At first I was drawn into the world of the Roma in eastern Europe during the early 20th century. I knew that they had been persecuted, but I didn't know a lot about their traditions or culture. But eventually I began to feel weighted down with all of the misery of the place. I suppose that was probably purposeful on McCann's part. After all, the Roma were persecuted, and we are talking about the start of the Soviet Union and the cruel grip of communism here. But nothing, and I mean nothing, that I read seemed to speak to the transcendence of the human spirit. Even the love story was bleak, and felt strangely unemotional. It is not that I am adverse to reading melancholy, haunting, tragic books. I read and loved The Road, and found the triumph of the father's love despite the complete destruction of the world to be meaningful, even if the events of the novel themselves were bleak. A Thousand Splendid Suns is one of my favorite books, and it is undoubtedly tragic and heart-wrenching. But even within the horror of living as a widow or a battered wife in Taliban Afghanistan, there were moments of tenderness, or beauty, or light. Not so with McCann's books.

Maybe I am being slightly unfair, since I didn't finish the book. Maybe the page after I finally gave up started a trend showing something, anything positive in the human experience. Sadly, I couldn't take the unending dreariness long enough to find out.

The Belgariad, by David Eddings

2011-11-06T14:03:00.000-06:00

Earlier this fall I posted a review of Pawn of Prophecy, the first book in David Edding's fantasy epic The Begariad. I enjoyed it a lot. I think that it is high fantasy at its best. It had the usual cast of characters-sorcerers, knights, princesses, and the like-but it was smart and engaging. I also reviewed the second book in the series, Queen of Sorcery, which I thought was a very good next step in describing the quest to find the Orb of Aldur and defeat the evil god Torak.

I have since finished he entire cycle-including Magician's Gambit, Castle of Wizardry and Enchanter's End Game-and I am please to say that the epic story of Garion and his journey from scullery boy to King of Riva and champion of the west was every bit as fun and exciting as the first two books led me to believe. Eddings did a great job creating characters that were at once universal archetypes of western literary fantasy and completely individual. While there was never really any doubt of the outcome-this is a classic good v. evil story after all, and we all know how those come out-there were enough twists and turns to keep you guessing.

One of the frequent complaints about high fantasy is how sexist it can be. The men are warriors, the women are witches or princesses. Eddings addresses that issue head on, acknowledging in this male characters that those attitudes exists, but countering them with his female characters, who he shows to be every bit as resourceful, strong, and capable as his male characters. Unlike Tolkien, who's female characters were very one dimensional, Eddings shows women to be an integral part of the world that he created, and each has her own strengths and foibles. All in all The Belgariad is a fine example of good storytelling-gently flowing language, interesting turns of phrase, characters that are believable even when they are doing unbelievable things, and exciting action sequences that stir the blood and the heart.

Precious Blood, Jonathan Hayes

2011-10-22T11:42:00.000-05:00

Ah, the serial killer. That sociopathic individual that gives Americans such a delicious thrill. I'm not sure what it says about us as a people that we are so fascinated with sick, twisted, violent death, but given the number of books, movies, and true crime shows on the subject, we seem to have a never-ending curiosity.

I will admit to this morbid fascination in myself. I like to think that my interest is as a result of my profound desire to understand the human mind, but I suspect there is a fair amount of of rubbernecker syndrome as well. It's almost as though we (I) want to be shocked and horrified. Well, if revulsion and horror is what you are looking for, then you could do worse than to pick up a copy of Jonathan Hayes book, Precious Blood.

The book centers around Dr. Edward Jenner, a former pathologist with the New York City police who had to retire after the daily horror of trying to identify 9-11 victims caused him to have a breakdown. Now living off his savings, he agrees to take a job as an independent pathologist in the murder of the daughter of a friend-of-a-friend. The murder scene is obviously staged, the victim nailed upside down on the wall. Her roommate, Ana, managed to get away, but not before seeing the killer-and him seeing her. Afraid for her safety, Jenner takes her in until his friend, Ana's uncle, could return. It soon become apparent that this was not the first time this killer has struck, and they soon have new cases to investigate as well. Jenner, while not having any real authority in the case, continues to investigate, his investigation gaining more urgency once he begins having feelings for Ana.

As thrillers go, this one was pretty good. The killer's religious motivation is not exactly original, but it did have a different twist on the theme than most books. Jenner's character is fairly well-developed, though his relationship with Ana does not really feel entirely authentic. The final show-down is suspenseful, and the ending satisfying. While there is nothing earth-shattering about Precious Blood, as popcorn books go it does its job admirably.

The Kellerman Whose Books I Am Still Reading

2011-10-11T17:54:00.000-05:00

Faithful readers of this blog know that I have broken up with my long-time mystery/thriller favorite, Jonathan Kellerman. You can read my Dear John (pun intended) letter here. Lucky for the Kellerman family, they will not lose all of their income from my corner of the world. Faye Kellerman, wife of Jonathan, is still writing fresh stories with all of the characters I love.

In Hangman, Kellerman brings us another story starting Rina (Lazarus) Decker and Pete Decker, Orthodox Jews and crime fighting team. Well, not really a team, exactly-Rina is more logistical support than boots on the ground. But together they have a chemistry that humanizes Decker and keeps him from being the stereotypical hard-boiled detective. There's a lot going on in Hangman. The main crime is the murder of one girl, and disappearance of another. There is a second story line, which I found the more intriguing of the two, about Decker and hit man Chris Donnati. Donnati and his wife are having marital problems, which rarely works out well for the non-homicidal maniac in the relationship. When Donnati's wife disappears, Decker is sure that he killed her, and takes in Donnati's 15 year old son while he investigates. During the investigation they stumble upon a serial killer-like a twofer deal. Eventually Decker and his team solve all of the mysteries, but justice is not done-one of the killers flees and can't be tracked. But it is a satisfying story nonetheless.

Kellerman's characters are interesting, the story is well-paced, and while the crimes and situations are not exactly believable, I didn't really care, because they were entertaining. All in all a good popcorn book!

The Secret Daughter, Shilpi Gowda

2011-10-08T09:13:00.000-05:00

A young wife in a rural village in India lies in a small hut, screaming with the pain of childbirth. The widwife tells her she has a daughter. Her husband comes to the hut to meet his son, and when he sees the baby is a girl, he takes her away to be killed. They can't afford a girl-a girl will not be able to do the hard manual labor, and for a girl they will need a dowry. The year was 1985.

That's right, 1985. As recently as the end of the 20th century, the culture of valuing boys more than girls was flourishing in places like India and China. Cultural practices regarding marriage and family, as well as the need for laborers to work on small subsistence farms, caused some families to abandon their newborn daughters to orphanages, or worse. In The Secret Daughter, Gowda tells the story of one such family. Kavita Merchant has three children. The first was taken away and killed at birth for being a girl. When the second girl, Usha, was born, she sneaked away from her husband and took the baby to an orphanage, so that at least she'd have some chance of a better life. The third, a boy, was cherished and celebrated by the family.

Usha was adopted by a couple from the United States, Krishnan and Somer Thakkar. Kris grew up in India wealthy and well-educated. Somer is as American as apple pie. After having multiple miscarriages, Kris convinces Somer that adoption from his home country is her chance to be a mother. Usha, now named Asha, comes to live with them when she is just one year old. She grows up surrounded by love and privilege, but it's not until a trip to India at 20 that she truly learns what her birth history and adoption mean to her life and the lives of her parents, biological and adoptive.

The story is told from the perspective of the two mothers for the first part of the book, and mostly from Asha's for the last portion, though her two fathers (bio and adoptive) also get short chapters from their point of view. It would be easy to demonize a society that throws away 5% of their girls (there is a 5% difference in the population of men versus women that can't be explained by natural or health factors), but Gowda shows both Kavita and her husband Jasu as real people who are faced with impossible decisions in order to survive crushing poverty. And while Somer seems like an easy choice for sympathetic character (inability to have children, swooping in to save a little brown baby from a third world orphanage), the fact is that she was pretty hard for me to like in this book. Once she has her daughter, she is constantly afraid that she won't really have a connection to her, because she looks more like her husband, and people in the streets don't know she is the girl's mother. She tries so hard to hold on to the girl that she ends up pushing her away, into the very thing that she feared most-a search for her biological parents. While Asha begins her journey as a spoiled, surly teen, what she finds on that search makes her reevaluate her own assumptions about identity and a mother's love.

Gowda does a great job of showcasing the differences between the lives of the classes in India, and the culture shock that westerners, even those of Indian descent, have when they see the beauty and history of the culture transposed with the poverty and environmental issues. Asha and her Indian family portray the mixture of pride and shame that must come from being a part of a culture that brims with thousands of years of history, yet still devalues girls such that female infanticide, child abandonment, and honor killings are still taking place today. One can't help but wonder which India will win out in the end-modern, technological India, or the India of subsistence farming and poverty.

The Lost Summer of Louisa May Alcott

2011-09-24T15:14:00.000-05:00

Like many young girls, I was given a copy of Little Women as a gift. Lousia May Alcott's perfect roman a clef about growing up in genteel poverty during the Civil War has been universally adored by generations of young readers, and despite the drastic social changes that have taken place in the intervening years, Jo March's struggle for independence and freedom from the conventions of society still resonates with many young women struggling to find their way in a complex and often confusing world.

So it was with great excitement that I picked up a copy of The Lost Summer of Lousia May Alcott by Kelly O'Connor McNees at a local discount store. I had read glowing reviews of the book on many of the blogs that I follow, and I anticipated feeling just as taken with the fictionalized account of one youthful summer as all of those bloggers had been. While many authors over the years have used primary historical documents to write fictionalized accounts of the lives of real people, this book seemed to promise some kind of new insight into a hidden chapter of Miss Alcott's life.

The Lost Summer recounts the events of one summer when Louisa was 20. She and her family go to stay in the house of a friend of their father's in Walpole, Massachusetts. Her father Bronson Alcott, was a philosopher who was friends with many of the important intellectuals of the mid 1800s-Emerson, Margaret Fuller, Thoreau, and others. Unfortunately for his family, he believed that working for money would sully his mind, and as a result the Alcott family lived off of the generosity of their friends and family, as well as whatever money the girls could bring in doing piecework or working as tutors and companions. Louisa meets Joseph Singer, a young man trying to manage his father's shop during the older man's long illness. There is an instant attraction between Joseph and Louisa, but he is already pledged to another girl, and she longs for the independence to write. Despite never wanting to marry, Louisa feels herself falling in love with Singer, bonding as they do over Walt Whitman's recently released Leaves of Grass.

Reading the author's note, it becomes obvious that there is actually no historical evidence that Louisa had a love affair as a young girl the year her family lived in Walpole. The entire affair is completely from the imagination of McNees. Which would have been fine, if the story of their love had been as gripping and tragic as some of those rhapsodizing bloggers seemed to find it. My problem with it was that it didn't seem realistic at all. They meet, make eyes at each other, read a few poems, and are suddenly consumed with an unquenchable love for each other. Maybe it's a function of my age, but I just didn't buy the "love at first sight" thing. Infatuation, yes. Physical desire, sure. But full-on, can't-live-without-you love? Sorry, I just didn't get it. As a result, while the book is very well written and I enjoyed McNees' descriptions of New England life in the 1850s, I can only say, "meh".

Queen of Sorcery, David Eddings

2011-09-12T17:36:00.001-05:00

So a couple of weeks ago I posted a review of Pawn of Prophecy, the first book in David Edding's Belgariad series. I talked about how it was a well-written fantasy series, with well-developed characters and well-paced action. All the typical archetypes are there-the sorcerer, the witch, the warriors, the rogue. It is an enjoyable journey in a sometimes dark fantastical world.

I just finished the second book in the series, that chronicles the further travels of Belgarath, Polgara, and Garion and their allies on their search for the orb. As for my review of said book-I can only say...

ditto.

The Egyptian, Layton Green

2011-09-04T21:26:00.000-05:00

Last year I reviewed Layton Green's first novel, The Summoner. In it, Green introduces us to Dominic Grey, a former member of the US diplomatic services security. While stationed in Zimbabwe, Grey is drawn into the mysterious disappearance of a US diplomat, and its connection to a ju-ju priest who seems to be able to do the impossible. This year I was lucky enough to be asked to review his next book, The Egyptian.

When I reviewed Green's first book, I said that while I thought there were some pacing and exposition issues, I was excited to see where Grey's story went as the series continues. I was not disappointed. Green has taken Grey out of the Diplomatic Security Service-which I think allows for more flexibility in storylines over time-and has him working with Professor Viktor Radek investigating cults and mysterious, seemingly magical events around the globe. In The Egyptian, Radek and Grey are called in by a biomedical company to recover stolen research into a life extension product that could literally make humans almost immortal. But all is not what it seems-when Grey and an investigative reporter begin to uncover the location of the stolen research, they witness the slaughter of a team of scientists, which leads them to believe that the biotech company is somehow behind the violence. Drawn by their investigation to Egypt, they discover an ancient cult intent on controlling who is bestowed eternal life.

One of my favorite phrases for someone who seems to be feeling at the top of their game is "in the pocket". Green has found his groove with this series, and The Egyptian felt much more "in the pocket" that The Summoner. While there is less about Grey's back story in this book, there is enough to keep you interested in him as a character. The story moves from America to Europe to a lost oasis in the Sahara, making for a lot of globe-trotting action. The information about the immortality cult, and the science behind anti-aging, was presented in such a way that I felt like I learned a lot without being lectured at, and it was well-placed in the overall arc of the story. I am so glad that this series is shaping up the way it is...smart thrillers for people who like their action with some cognitive stimulation!

Thanks for Layton for giving me an advanced preview copy. You can get it in Kindle or Nook version from his website, www.laytongreen.com.

Pawn of Prophecy, David Eddings

2011-08-26T12:33:00.000-05:00

One of the recurring motifs in high fantasy is the idea of the average villager actually being the lost prince of Somewhere, or the reincarnation of the great sorcerer Whoever. Unsuspecting mortals who are suddenly confronted with a destiny that is larger and more important than they realized. Maybe that is part of the reason that people enjoy high fantasy. For the average-Joe, who may feel powerless to change their own lives, the idea of secretly being the heir to the kingdom of Everywhere is pretty attractive.

David Eddings has created just such a scenario in his epic fantasy series, The Belgariad. The first book in the series is called Pawn of Prophecy. It introduces us to Garion, a young boy living with his Aunt Pol on a farm in Sendaria, a peaceful kingdom of the west. His world is narrow but comfortable, with Aunt Pol and the blacksmith Durnik to guide him. But Garion is haunted by visions of a dark rider who casts no shadow-a rider that no one else ever sees. One day, a storyteller named Mr. Wolf comes to the farm, and it becomes clear that he and Aunt Pol know each other. Mr. Wolf brings news-something important and powerful has been stolen, and Mr. Wolf and Aunt Pol (who are clearly more than they seem), leave the farm with Garion in tow. Durnik insists on accompanying the party to protect Aunt Pol. They meet up with two shady characters in the woods-Silk, a crafty, sly man, and Barak, an enormous warrior. Together they embark on a journey to find the lost artifact, and to stop the war that may be coming if they don't. Somehow Garion is connected to this artifact, but at an angsty 14 no one tells him anything.

This first installment does an excellent job of setting up the background for the future books. The reader is in the position of having information that Garion does not have as the result of a short prologue, which allows the reader to understand the strange events that surround Garion even when he can not. While the roles played by the main characters are pretty common for epic fantasy-the powerful sorcerer, the witch, the rogue, the warrior-there is at least decent character development, especially for Garion's character. Despite the fact that the characters are in fact hiding or following a trail of the artifact, there is enough action to provide some relief from the tedium of constant travel. The only real criticism I have is the same criticism I have for most high fantasy-apparently women in fantasy land will have to wait a little longer to be released from their oppression, as the only woman in the story so far that has any real power is Aunt Pol, who we discover is more than a simple cook. I'd like to see a good female warrior or two, or a queen who has the same power as her husband the king. But while we wait for the feminist movement to come to the various kingdoms of the Land of Fantasy, we can enjoy well-crafted stories like Pawn of Prophecy.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, or Why Synesthesia Sucks

2011-08-24T06:49:00.000-05:00

Imagine while you are eating dinner tonight that every time you take a bite you can feel the emotions of the person who cooked it. This is the very unusual synesthesia that afflicts Rose, the main character of The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake. OK, it's not exactly synesthesia, which refers to the neaurological condition where sensory input gets confused in the brain. Sounds suddenly have color, or tastes. Certain words are associated with smells...But Rose's ability to taste the emotions of the people who made her food was just one special ability in her family's DNA.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, by Aimee Bender, begins when Rose is a child. She comes home one day to a freshly-made chocolate lemon cake. When she takes a bite, she can suddenly feel how desperately lonely and unhappy her mother is. After an initial panic, she learns to eat as much food prepared by faceless factories-while she can tell where the ingredients came from and which factory manufactured it, she is not inundated with the feelings of strangers. But she can't avoid family dinners, and when her mother's food suddenly starts tasting of guilt, Rose knows that she is having an affair. At the same time, her brother Joe, who never really felt a part of the world, starts to disappear. Over the course of years, he is gone more frequently and for longer periods. Through it all, Rose deals with her relationship with her mother, her father, her friends, and George, her first crush and brother's best friend.

This book may be the most unique coming of age story that I have ever read. Rose's character is full of all the angst and uncertainty of any adolescent-I mean, aren't we already swimming in a storm of emotions as teens? Bender's writing is fluid and poetic, though she does have that annoying lack of quotation marks going against her. She manages to blend a rather surreal set of family quirks and strange events into a very realistic seeming story about a family who loves each other, but just can't seem to connect.

Reading Vonnegut for the First Time

2011-08-13T21:49:00.002-05:00

As a science fiction fan, I have considered it a personal failing that I had never read any Kurt Vonnegut. As a pacifist, the fact that I had never read Slaughterhouse Five made that failing sting a little more. I wish I could say that reading this book was worth all of the years of self-recrimination. I wish I could say that I finished it. But the only thing I can say with any certainty is that I didn't get it.

I won't say that I don't understand why this book is considered a classic of science fiction specifically and literature generally. Vonnegut's writing is by turns funny, poignant, frightening, or evocative. Slaughterhouse Five tells the story of Billy Pilgrim, an accidental soldier who is captured by the Germans in 1945 and taken to Dresden. He is there during the Dresden bombings, when the Allies bombed the non-military city of Dresden and killed over 100,000 people. Vonnegut himself was a German prisoner of war who lived through the Dresden bombing and its aftermath. But this is not in fact the major event of Billy's life. Billy becomes "unstuck in time", moving through his own lifeline from prisoner to wealthy optometrist to alien zoo exhibit...yes, I said alien exhibit. Because the other major fact of Billy's life is that he was abducted by aliens on the night of this daughter's wedding.

OK, I only know the last part because I read the SparkNotes for the complete novel. Because I couldn't finish the book. Even with the excellent writing, I could not get into this story. It wasn't the writing, or the war, or the time travel, or the alien abduction. The only explanation I can come up with is that my brain just doesn't think the way that Vonnegut's does. Even though I already knew the destination theme-wise, I just couldn't follow where Vonnegut was leading. Despite my natural inclination to agree with the book's anti-war message, I wasn't sure how Billy Pilgrim traveling through time and being abducted by aliens was supposed to articulate that message. Of course, had I finished it, maybe all would become clear. And that's on me. I guess I'll just have to continue living my life as a science fiction fan who hasn't read Vonnegut. But this time I'll forgive myself.

Haven't I Heard This Somewhere Before?

2011-08-07T15:33:00.002-05:00

In Running With Scissors, Augusten Burroughs gave us a hilarious and horrifying look into his early life. When his parents divorced, Augusten's mother signed over guardianship of him to her psychotic psychiatrist. Refusing to go to school, he spent his days drinking or getting high with this foster sister, and being preyed upon by a 33 year old pedophile. It was a story like no other-hopefully because no one else has ever lived through that particular brand of hell.

Dry picks up the story of his life as an award winning copywriter at an ad agency and raging alcoholic. After a particularly disastrous business meeting, his company gives him an ultimatum-go to rehab or lose his job. He enters rehab determined to treat it as a spa vacation, only to be confronted pretty quickly with the strange world of group therapy and the 12 steps. He leaves rehab determined to stay sober, but the pressures of real life threaten his fragile sobriety. And this, this is a story I've heard before.

Granted, Dry is told with Burrough's usual wit. I admire his ability to laugh at himself, and unlike some recovery memoirs this one is not preachy or sentimental. But it also doesn't really have anything new to say on the subject of addiction. He was a drunk, for understandable reasons, but still a drunk. He nearly ruined his own (and a few other people's) life. He met some unusual characters in rehab, had difficulty re-entering the "real" (read: sober) world, etc...etc...If you are a fan of Augusten Burroughs, it is probably worth reading just so you can say you've read the "complete set", so to speak, but if you've never read his books before, start with Running with Scissors-much more compelling story.

Secret Societies and the Readers Who Love Them

2011-08-05T14:57:00.000-05:00

So you may have heard of this author, Dan Brown? He wrote this relatively successful novel called The Da Vinci Code, all about this professor who chases down ancient conspiracies about Jesus and Mary Magdalene to solve a modern day mystery. I guess they made a movie about it or something...

Obviously Dan Brown's best-selling novel was more than relatively successful. Say what you will about Brown's writing, he seemed to have tapped into a part of our cultural consciousness that believes in conspiracies and secret societies and vaguely impossible sounding alchemical magic. And it's didn't start with Dan Brown, of course. Indiana Jones was searching for lost artifacts in the jungles of the world at least 20 years before Dan Brown published The Da Vinci Code. I'm not sure why we as a society are so intrigued by the shadowy figures that we somehow fear are secretly running the world...perhaps it helps us make sense of the senseless, you know, like debt ceiling agreements or Donald Trump's hair.

Since every single literary phenomenon apparently needs its clones, there have been plenty of Da Vinci Code copycats. I've read a few, and liked a few of those, but I had always avoided the novels of one of the more successful ancient mystery/secret society authors to compete with Dan Brown, James Rollins. Something about his Sigma Force felt too militaristic and male to be of much interest to me. After all, I prefer even my mystery/thrillers to have female detectives. Sexist of me, probably, but that's a topic for another post.

Well, wouldn't you know, Audible.com had a James Rollins book, Map of Bones, available FREE the last time I was looking for something to listen to on a roadtrip. And who doesn't love free?!? So, over 13 hours later, I can tell you that my concerns about Sigma Force were unfounded. I was completely drawn into the world of Gray Pierce, Rachel Verona, and the mystery of the ancient mages they were trying to keep from the Imperial Dragon Court.

Map of Bones begins with a massacre in a church in Cologne, Germany. Armed men dressed as monks unleash some sort of device that cause people to be electrocuted in their seats. They also steal the scared relic of the cathedral-the supposed bones of the biblical Magi. Sigma Force is called upon by the Vatican to help them determine exactly who stole the bones and what their plans for them are. Gray Pierce and his team are sent to the Vatican, and much mayhem ensues.

The upside to this kind of book is that the action is pretty non-stop, and there are lots of twists and turns to keep you engaged along the way. And actually, there is some character development here, which you don't always find in this kind of action/adventure story. The downside of this type of story is the enormous amount of historical exposition the author must try to work in around the gun fights, bombs, and car/boat chases. Like most books of this types I've read, occasionally it felt slightly more like a history text than a novel, but Rollins actually does a decent job of having these little lesson occur in contexts that make sense-not, for instance, while standing over a dead body like one scene in Da Vinci Code. All in all this was a fun, satisfying use of 13 hours in the car!

When the Emperor was Divine, by Julie Otsuka

2011-08-03T14:15:00.000-05:00

When the Emperor was Divine is a little gem of a book. A slim 160 pages, Otsuka's debut novel tells the story of a Japanese family forced into an internment camp in 1942. Each of the five chapters is narrated by a different member of the family-the mother, who packs away the house and their old life after the relocation order came down; the daughter, who tells of the journey on the train to the Utah desert; the son, who describes life in the camp; and the father, who was arrested and held in a separate facility for the duration of the war and returns to his family a different man. The characters are nameless, which I assume is a purposeful attempt to portray the family as representatives of the 127,000 Japanese Americans who were "relocated" during World War II.

Otsuka's writing is spare, but conveys such emotion. This family lived in an America where their neighbors turned against them, or, worse, pretended they no longer existed. Their ties to the community where they lived and worked and went to school are suddenly severed, and it is apparent that everyone was too afraid of being seen as disloyal to stand up for anyone-themselves or their neighbors. There were two parts of the novel that stood out for me. The first was when the mother was packing up their house in order to evacuate. From my place in the 21st century I knew there was a good chance that no matter what she did to safeguard her family's things, they would not be there when and if she returned. But the most painful part was when she killed the family dog, because he was old and sick and there was no one to take care of him. The second part that struck me was the son's description of his mother's slow slide into depression and hopelessness. They say that children are adaptable, and in fact the boy never seemed to lose hope that they wold eventually go home. But even his youthful innocence could not spare him from watching his mother wither and lose interest in the world and what would happen to them.

Finally, after more than three years of imprisonment, the internment camp inmates were given $25, put on buses, and taken back to their hometowns. Many had no actual homes to return to, and no family or friends to help them. The opportunistic lawyers and businessmen who promised to collect rents from the people living in their houses or running their businesses had disappeared, along with the money they had promised to keep safe. No on apologized, or offered any compensation for their losses-but really, how can you compensate someone for their quality of life, for the loss of feeling safe and secure in your own home? And their neighbors, out of shame or anger, shunned them, which must have felt like a different kind of imprisonment. Otsuka does a wonderful job bringing her readers into this shameful era of American history.

Kindred, by Octavia Butler

2011-08-02T09:16:00.000-05:00

Any long time readers of this blog know my deep respect for Octavia Butler. She takes the genre of science fiction and turns it into literature that not even the most pernicious lit snob can say is anything other than high quality. Kindred, Butler's best known work, is perhaps the clearest example I've yet read of the way that she combines issues of race, gender, and class into her work.

Kindred is the story of Dana, a black woman living in California in the 1970s. Through some process never fully explained, Dana is transported back to the early 1800s whenever Rufus, her white great-great-great-great (you get the idea) grandfather is on the verge of getting himself killed. Unfortunately for Dana, this unknown ancestor is also the son of a slave-owner in Maryland. This means that once she is back in time with him, she must adjust her life to the customs of the time, acting the part of a slave. As Dana travels back and forth between the past and the present, she learns more about what it meant to be black and powerless in the United States than she ever wanted to. What was abstract to her and her white husband in 1976 becomes terrifyingly concrete in the world of 1830s Maryland.

Kindred is a bit of a cross-over novel, as the science fiction aspect of it is not nearly as important as the story itself. Perhaps that's why it is her most popular novel, because you don't have to be a science fiction fan to enjoy it. But I suspect it has more to do with the examination of race and slavery than with a genre preference. Through Dana's experiences, Butler shows the brutality and cruelty of slavery. Dana, with her 20th century moral superiority, begins by "acting" as a slave, but after being whipped, beaten, forced into the fields, and nearly raped, she comes to realize how easily people can be made slaves. Take away a person's humanity, and they will believe they are less than human. Value a person only because of the work that they can do or the price that they will fetch, and they will start to define themselves that way, even contribute to their own captivity.

It is this idea that is perhaps the most striking in Butler's work, especially given the 1979 release date. That close to the heyday of the civil rights movement, it must have been a risk for Butler to create the characters of Rufus, who while not likeable does at least become understandable as the slave owner's son, and eventual slave owner himself. Even though Dana hates what he does, she can't quite bring herself to hate him, though he certainly gives her ample reasons to do so. But Dana's relationship with Rufus, and the various attitudes of other slaves on the plantation, demonstrate that slavery and people's attitudes towards it were not as clear-cut as history books would make them out to be. To be sure, the institution of slavery is abhorrent, but those living within it sometimes had to do things that should not necessarily be judged by 20th (or 21st) century standards. Butler clearly shows how insidious the effects of living under such a brutal system can be, from the need to run away again and again, even after the most horrific beatings, to the need to try and secure your place by serving up another slave's transgressions to your masters, even though you know what the consequences for them will be. In the end, Dana is able to retain enough of her 20th century self to free herself from the bondage imposed on her by the involuntary time travel, but not without scars, both physical and emotional, that will leave a permanent impression on her, and on the reader.

What the Dead Know, Laura Lipman

2011-07-31T14:20:00.000-05:00

Laura Lipman can usually be counted on to provide a mystery that is more than a mystery. Her intricate plots are always just as much about love, family, and the difficult choices we make as they are about solving a crime. What the Dead Know is no exception.

What the Dead Know is the story of the Bethany sisters-two young girls who disappeared without a trace in the summer of 1975. Thirty years later, a woman turns up claiming to be one of the lost sisters, but the circumstances of her sudden reappearance leave more questions than answers. Joe Infante, a detective in Baltimore, and Kay, a social worker who is assigned to evaluate and protect the rights of "Heather Bethany" can sense that the woman is lying, but about what, and why? Each tries to get to the bottom of the mystery in their own way, but it is not until the mother of the girls arrives from the life she managed to make for herself in Mexico that everyone finally gets the full story.

Alternating between the past and present day, Lipman weaves together a narrative that is engaging and infuriating-well, really it is engaging partly because it is so infuriating. Getting to the end of a chapter was like a cliffhanger at the end of your favorite show. Bits and pieces of the story slowly start to coalesce into an almost clear picture, and then you learn something that makes you reevaluate what you thought you knew. The general gist of the girls' story-kidnapped and held for years against their will-is something that has become almost cliche in contemporary mysteries. But Lipman's treatment of it made it feel familiar yet new at the same time.

What I found so interesting as I was reading was that I didn't really like any of the characters. Not the cop, not the "found" sister, not the father or mother. I can't remember the last time that I was able to get this into a book where I didn't really feel sympathetic towards any of the characters. But somehow it worked. Even though I found myself annoyed with everyone at one time or another I still wanted to know what happen. Maybe Lipman's biggest risk was making "Heather" so unlikeable. We want our lost girls to be sweet and damaged and innocent. Well, "Heather" was damaged all right. She was manipulative, emotionally stunted, selfish, and a liar. But after learning about the circumstances that led her back to the place she disappeared from, that all made sense to me. How else would you feel if you were ripped away from your home and family, forced into sexual bondage and a new identity, and then escaped into a world that you thought had forgotten you, and would tear you apart if they remembered? Lipman explores the ties of family, and those who become our family, even in the most horrifying of times.

Pray for Silence, Linda Castillo

2011-07-30T08:22:00.000-05:00

After years of reading almost nothing but mystery/thrillers (they were mostly free, don't judge!), it is pretty hard to find a book in that genre that feels entirely new to me. Part of why I like a lot of mysteries and thriller is because they are usually fairly predictable and formulaic, thereby allowing me to lose myself in the story of the moment without actually having to think terribly hard. Admittedly, this gets a bit old. And it is for that reason that I am glad that I discovered Linda Castillo and her Kate Burkholder series.

I read the first book in this series, Sworn to Silence, earlier this year. It introduces chief of police Kate Burkholder, a former Amish who chose not to be baptized into the church after a traumatic event in her childhood. Pray for Silence starts with the discovery of an Amish family murdered in their own home-mom, dad, and five children. Violent crime is very rare in the Amish community, and Kate can't imagine what the motive could be. But the Amish have the same human fallibility as the rest of us, and it soon became apparent that at least one of the family members was hiding a secret that put their entire family in danger. Kate once again teamed up with state bureau of investigations agent John Tomasetti, who shows up in Painters Mill after being suspended for a failed drug test. Their budding relationship continues, both of them dragging their respective baggage, and tripping over it more often than not, in their desire to be together.

The horrific nature of the crime scene stands out starkly against the backdrop of the peaceful Amish community, though the bulk of the action in this novel takes place in the English community, not the Amish. Castillo does a decent job of describing the Amish community, their history and traditions, in such a way that it does not feel stereotypical. Where she is pretty stereotypical, however, is in the characters of Kate and John. I mean, to read most mystery writers, one would assume that all detectives are damaged, stand-offish, and terrible at relationships. Add the fact of Tomasetti's drug and alcohol problems, and you have a caricature of every hard-boiled detective ever. Luckily I don't read her books for creative characterization, but for an engaging story set in an unusual setting, and that Castillo delivers on.

Top Ten Tuesday-I Have Issues...

2011-07-26T08:50:00.001-05:00

...or rather, these books tackle tough issues. That's the theme this week over at The Broke and the Bookish, the lovely bloggers who host Top Ten Tuesday. I have a while theory of reading as social justice, and have been meaning to get back to building my Social Justice Books page here at Book Addict Reviews, so coming up with ten is a cakewalk. I'll put the adult titles here, but if you ware interested in social justice-themed books for children, check out my post at Second Childhood Reviews.

1. A Thousand Splendid Suns, Khaled Hosseini: I have a friend who has told me she is glad that I was around on 9-1 so I could explain who the Taliban were and what was happening in Afghanistan, since she had never heard of them. I think that this book does the best job of describing what life was like under Taliban rule.

2. The Things They Carried, Tim O'Brien: I just read this book of short stories/vignettes from O'Brien's experience in the Viet Nam War, and I think that it has important things to say about war in general and what it does to the young people we send into it.

3. The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood: Patriarchal, tyrannical theocracy based on biological control of women anyone? Oh, wait, that's right, we aren't that far away from that it some parts of our country, where a woman's right to choose is being eroded more and more every day.

4. Bastard Out of Carolina, Dorothy Allison: Amazingly powerful book about child sexual abuse and domestic violence. And on a related note...

5. The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison: All of the above, only adding racial identity and racism to the mix.

6. Dead Man Walking, Sister Helen Prejean: When horrible people do horrible things it is in our nature to dehumanize them and turn them into monsters who deserve death. What Sr. Prejean's work does is remind the readers vividly that people on death row are as human as you or me, and that if we as a society want to continue executing them, we need to do it with an understanding of our shared humanity.

7. Stone Butch Blues, Leslie Feinberg: This roman a clef details Feinberg's life as a butch lesbian in New York in the years directly before and after the Stonewall Riot in 1969. Feinberg has since identified as transgendered, and wrote another book about the historical treatment of transgendered people called Transgender Warriors that is really fascinating.

8. Zeitoun, Dave Eggers: This true story details what happened to an Islamic immigrant named Zeitoun and his family in the days after Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. Zeitoun stayed in New Orleans, and after the storm spent his days rowing around his neighborhood rescuing people and feeding pets left-behind-that is, until the US army arrested him as a terrorist...

9. And the Band Played On, Randy Shilts: Shilts' book recounts the early years of the AIDS epidemic, and how homophobia and bigotry kept doctors and scientists from recognizing, researching, and treating the disease more quickly and efficiently.

10. The Abstinence Teacher, Tom Perotta: Perotta gives us a thoughtful look at the abstinence-only vs. comprehensive sex education debate. But guess which one still leads to fewer unplanned pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases? Knowledge is power, people!

Sister, by Rosamund Lupton

2011-07-24T10:51:00.000-05:00

Sister is a good example of why I refuse to put up my nose at genre fiction. Billed as a mystery novel with a plot that sounds like something ripped from today's headlines, Sister is actually a novel about love and family and grieving and acceptance.

Sister follows the story of Beatrice, a British ex-living in New York, as she tries to solve the murder of her younger sister, Tess. Free-spirited Tess, an artist living in London, is discovered in a men's toilet in Hyde Park, an apparent suicide. Beatrice refuses to believe that her sister would have taken her own life, and begins to dig into the events surrounding the last weeks of Tess's life, looking for a key to her murderer. Despite the fact that nearly everyone believes that her sister killed herself, and despite the fact that her quest pushes away some of the people closest to her, Beatrice eventually discovers the sinister secret at the heart of her sister's murder.

Let me say first that this is, in fact, a first rate mystery. The plot is thoughtful and well laid out, and the story is not as formulaic as some mystery/thrillers. But this book is so much more than just a mystery novel. It is a love story about sisters, and a story about grief. Every part of Beatrice's story-told as a letter to her dead sister-drips with raw, honest, sometimes painful emotion. Every turn of phrase draws you in more deeply to Beatrice's state of mind, her regrets, her guilt, her anger, and her sorrow. But you also begin to see Beatrice change, from the stodgy women she was quickly becoming, to someone stronger and more alive. Her sister's death frees her from convention, allows her to become this person who makes waves, who questions authority, who is not afraid to say the hard or uncomfortable things. Lupton's writing is almost poetic at times, giving the whole story an easy flow that draws you in and engages not just your logical, figure-out-the-mystery brain, but the part of your brain that appreciates beauty, even in sadness.

The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien

2011-07-22T09:47:00.001-05:00

I was born in 1970. So while my life overlaps briefly with the Viet Nam War, I have no real memory of it. What I do remember is going to downtown Chicago with my granny, and later with my parents, and seeing the faces of the homeless vets that were begging on the streets. Wild-eyed, or blank-stared, the memories of their faces color everything that I have heard, read, or seen about the war since. And I have heard, read, and seen a lot. Stories from the fathers of friends who fought in the war, lessons from school, movies like Full Metal Jacket and Platoon-from these sources I have cobbled together a picture of that hot, wet, chaotic, horrific place and time.

But I am not sure that I have truly felt that I had even the faintest understanding of what it might actually have been like. Not, that is, until I read Tim O'Brien's stunning book The Things They Carried. Neither entirely fact nor entirely fiction, O'Brien uses a series of short stories and vignettes to tell the tale of Alpha Company, a group of soldiers based, in part, on the real men that O'Brien served with during the war. The stories meander from stateside to the jungles of Viet Nam, from childhood to middle age, detailing how each experience prepares or informs or explains the person that Tim was or is or may yet become.

I will admit to having some difficulty at first with the non-linear narrative, and with the fact that I was never sure what was true and what was made-up. But the genius of this work is that you soon realize that it doesn't matter. In fact, the way that the book is put together and the inability to tell fact from fiction ends up doing a better job describing what living through that experience was like than any straight forward telling could. O'Brien and his fellow soldiers lived a reality that most of us will never experience, and can never truly comprehend, where time was skewed, day and night traded places, where extraordinary circumstances became ordinary, and where the ordinary world as most of us know it became a dream that you couldn't let yourself believe in.

My favorite section of the book (if favorite is even the right word) is the story of how O'Brien almost ran away to Canada rather than go to war. Part of O'Brien's extreme talent is an ability to use words to paint not just a visual but an emotional picture for the reader, and I was able to feel how deeply terrified he was at the prospect of war. I felt his ambivalence about running away, about choosing the possibility of death over the certainty of shame and embarrassment. But the thing I found most stunning, and the line I would consider the most "controversial" of the whole piece, is this, "I passed through towns with familiar names, through the pine forests and down to the prairie, and then to Viet Nam, where I was a soldier, and then home again. I survived, but it's not a happy ending. I was a coward. I went to war."
Given the hyper-patriotism of the US since 9-11, and our unquestioning assumption that every soldier is brave and heroic, this simple statement stopped me dead in my tracks. It felt almost sacrilegious. Are we allowed to say that not going to war is more courageous than going? What does that say about us as a society, that we are find ourselves so often in armed conflicts? Is it bravery and strength, or is it because we don't want to be judged as wanting by the rest of the world? What would happen if our young men and women, en masse, simply refused to go the next time we try to send them into harm's way? Would it be courageous or cowardly? Regardless of where any one of us comes down on that particular idea, what O'Brien's work has done is illustrate for those of us that weren't there that nothing is as simple and straightforward in war as those of us sitting at home watching it on our televisions thinks it is.

Monsters of Templeton

2011-07-20T09:03:00.001-05:00

I admit it, I read this book because Stephen King wrote a blurb for the cover. I don't usually read the cover blurbs, but when I see and author I love as much as SK has read the book I am considering, I pay attention. That blurb was pretty much all I knew about The Monsters of Templeton before I started reading. As a result, I was expecting a horror story...and why wouldn't I? Stephen Freakin' King wrote a blurb. What I actually got was something far more complex and indefinable.

The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff tells the story of Willie Upton, the down and out descendent of the founder of Templeton, Marmaduke Temple. She has fled back to her childhood home after a disastrous affair with her dissertation adviser. Pregnant, depressed, sure she is losing her career and her life, she stumbles into town in the middle of the night. The next morning, much to everyone's surprise, the body of a huge animal floats to the surface of Glimmerglass Lake-the fabled monster Glimmey, supposed-myth turned real. Into the public chaos that ensues, Willie gets a little surprise of her own. After years of believing that her father was one of three men her mother lived in a commune with in the year before her birth, she is told by her mother that her father is right there in Templeton, and has been all along. When her mother refuses to tell her who the lucky man is, she goes on a quest to discover his identity-a quest that takes her back through her family's (and the town's) long and sordid history.

Despite the monster in the lake, and the ghost that lives in Willie's house, there is nothing scary about this book. The true monsters of Templeton were the people who lived, loved, fought, and died there throughout the years. In many ways, this book tells the story of a woman who is finally growing up. Willie, who lived a fairly privileged and idyllic childhood in many ways, just was not able to get herself together out in the "real" world. Despite the prestigious college she went to, despite her competence in her chosen field (archaeology, the symbolism of which is only now hitting me), Willie can't seem to take that last step into being responsible for herself. Her pregnancy, her return to her hometown, her realizations about her mother, and most of all her research into her family, finally bring her to a place where she can find herself in the mess of high expectations, failed relationships, and career suicide that she left in her wake.

The story alternates between present-day Willie and characters from the past, and it is this narrative structure that shows how talented Groff really is. She wrote sections of the novel as the journal of a 19th century woman, as letters between two 18th century women, as the son of the founder of Templeton, as a nameless Indian girl, and as the monster itself. Each voice felt authentic, and each one revealed a little bit more about the sprawling family of which Willie was a product. The story is intricate and multi-layered, and I think that the revelations about the various Temples, Upton, Averells, and others were well-paced. While there is some magical realism, this novel is not really that. While there are some historical fiction elements, it's not really that, either. In the end, I think that this book defies any clear-cut description, which to me makes it even more intriguing and enjoyable to read.

Clash of Kings, Or Why Fantasy Novels Should Come With a Score Card

2011-07-12T18:53:00.001-05:00

I've been a fan of fantasy since I was a kid. I remember getting the Narnia books for Christmas and reading them all before going back to school. I remember getting The Wishstone of Shannara for Christmas a few year later and completely losing myself in the quest to save the tree...and how I cried when the elf had to sacrifice herself at the end. I think that this is one of the reasons that I like role playing games like Final Fantasy or Fable-they are like living in the books I read growing up.

That said, it's been a while since I have gotten into a fantasy series. I suppose some of the reason is because after reading so many they do start to blend together and feel like the same story over and over. I experienced a similar phenomenon after years of reading almost nothing but mysteries and thrillers. But I think that part of it is because fantasy stories have this perception of being childish or immature somehow. I mean, serious, literary readers don't read genre fiction like fantasy, do they?

Then came Game of Thrones on HBO. Because while I might have stopped reading much fantasy, I sure do love to watch it. I've probably watched every Arthurian based movie and show made in the last 20 years, as well as any Robin Hood adaptation. While I did read all of the Harry Potter series, I am just as excited about the movies coming out as I was the books (well, OK, maybe not just as excited, but you get my point). Now, I have always been a proponent of reading the books that a series is based on. I've scolded people for not reading the Southern Vampire books before watching True Blood, and I have waxed poetic on how much better the Temperance Brennan books are than the TV show Bones is. So, after watching (and loving) the first season of Game of Thrones, not to mention hearing my many friends who've read the books lambast me for being a hypocrite, I gave in and downloaded the second book in the series, Clash of Kings, for my brand-spanking new Kindle.

I should have known that my friends would not steer me wrong. George R.R. Martin has done something that most fantasy writers in my experience can't quite pull off-a grown up fantasy novel. Clash of Kings tells the story of what happens in the Seven Kingdoms after King Robert is killed by a boar while hunting. His "son" ascends to the throne, supported by his rich and powerful family, House Lannister. Of course, thrones are rarely passed peacefully, especially when it is pretty apparent that the 13 year old "king" is in fact not King Robert's son, but a product of incest between his mother and her twin. Three other men aspire to be king: Robert's brothers, Renly and Stannis, and the murdered Eddard Stark's son, Robb. The intrigue, violence, and betrayal that ensues are pretty much impossible to summarize, unless I want this post to be as long as the book (which at 761 pages is one of the longer books I've read this year).

The writing is smart and well-crafted, and the main characters are well-developed. They are also fairly nuanced for a genre that lends itself to one-dimensional characters who are either wholly good or wholly evil. I find that of my favorite characters, one is a member of that incestuous Lannister clan, despite the fact that in the arc of the story his family is pretty much completely cruel and morally bankrupt. And this talk of character leads me to the subtitle of this post. While I love my new Kindle, reading this book on an e-reader may not, in fact, have been the best choice. I'm not sure that it is exaggerating to say that there are hundreds of characters mentioned in this book-both "present" day and past heroes-and not being able to flip to the maps of the pages tat listed how everyone was related to everyone else sometimes left me very confused. Short of reading with a computer next to me to look things up I was hard-pressed to keep it all straight. In the end I decided to just go with it-after all, I'll have season two of Game of Thrones to explain whatever I missed.

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, or Why I'm Glad I Wasn't Born in 19th Century China

2011-07-01T22:21:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I am in horrified awe at the things that people have done to make women more "desirable". As oppressive as I find the ridiculously unrealistic American beauty ideal, it is downright feminist when compared to past and present practices from around the world. And while I realize that this novel is probably supposed to be about the power of women to create community, but I couldn't get past the foot-binding.

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan is the story of Lily and Snow Flower, who meet at young girls in 18th century China. They become laotong, or friends bonded for life, at age seven at the behest of a matchmaker in the hopes that their friendship will yield better marriages for both. Because of their families' social status, the girls have their feet bound at the age of seven. Foot binding was practiced by all but the poorest families in China, the goal being to stop the girls feet from growing. The smaller the feet, the better the marriage. Lily tells the story of her friendship with Snow Flower through all of the stages of life-childhood, adolescence, womanhood-through their use of nu shu, a special written language used only by women.

Lisa See does an excellent job using the story of Lily and Snow Flower to paint a vivid picture of Chinese culture, especially women's culture. My 21st century brain was routinely appalled by how the women were treated. But nothing was as horrifying as the description of the foot binding process. The girls toes were bent under their foot and bound there. They were then forced to walk on them until they broke, and the foot slowly bent under until there was only the big toe left to balance on. Perhaps the most disturbing part was the fact that it was generally their mothers who bound their feet. As a mother myself, I can't imagine the social pressure that a person must be under to cause that kind of pain to your own child.

It also struck me reading this novel how many times in the history of the world people have created social rules that in fact work against not just their self-interest, but their actual survival. Forced to flee their homes due to civil unrest, many of the women died trying to walk up a mountain on their "golden lilies", as their small bound feet were called. Purposely keeping whole classes of people illiterate also seems counterproductive, to say the least. And of course, determining a woman's value by her physical attributes...seems like we're still working on a few of those today.

Fallen, by Karin Slaughter Review and Give Away

2011-06-23T10:00:00.002-05:00

Welcome to Book Addict Review's first ever blog tour! I'm excited to be a part of promoting Karin Slaughter's new book, Fallen.

I am becoming a reluctant audiobook user. I can't bring myself to call myself an audiobook "reader", because a part of me still feels like it's cheating. But I have found over the years that on long drives, music is no longer enough to keep my brain occupied. It started with my favorite red-headed comedian, Kathy Griffin. I listened to her memoir on a long drive to Michigan, and found that it made the drive much more enjoyable. I was convinced that it was only because she's freakin' hysterical, but when the time came for my next long drive through the boring, flat landscape of the midwest, I found the longest audiobook iTunes had to offer, World Without End by Ken Follett. So when I was approached by the publishers of Karin Slaughter's new audiobook, Fallen, I decided that I would give it a shot. I am a fan of Slaughter's Will Trent/Faith Mitchell series, and the fact that they were sending me some give-away copies was icing on the cake.

Fallen picks up the story of GBI Agent Faith Mitchell after the birth of her daughter, Emma. She is on her way to her mother's house to pick Emma up after a Saturday morning in-service at the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. When she arrives at her mother's house, she finds Emma locked in the shed, her mother's house in bloody disarray, and two armed men struggling in the bedroom. Faith tries to question the men about where her mother is, but is forced to kill both men before they tell her anything. Will Trent and her mother's best friend, Amanda Wagner, Assistant Director of the GBI, swoop in and take control of the scene. With Faith a person of interest, and Will and Amanda not technically on the case, they have to work under the radar, and outside of standard operating procedure to find and save Faith's mother, Evelyn. They once again call on the help of Sarah Linton, a local doctor who was drawn into a previous case and who has developed a rather strained friendship with Will.

I've decided over the course of the last few years that the reason that I like so many mystery/thriller series is because they are character driven first, and mystery-centered second. I feel like a close personal friend of Alex Delaware, Myron Bollitar, Kay Scarpetta (more on her here), Temperance Brennan, and Pete Decker and Rina Lazarus. But none of these characters are as interesting and well-developed as Will Trent. An incredibly smart man with significant dyslexia, an orphan who was "raised" by the Georgia Children's Home, Will is complicated and intense and damaged and loyal and strong, and so emotionally stunted that he has no idea how to get out of his very dysfunctional marriage and into a healthy relationship with Sarah. The cast of characters that surround him are also memorable and complex-Faith, former cop and former teen mom; Amanda Wagner, ball-busting middle aged woman who came up through the ranks the hard way, Evelyn Mitchell, Faith's mom and former cop who may or may not have been on the take; and Angie Trent, Will's completely sociopathic wife. In this particular book, the characters and their lives were inextricably linked to the mystery to be solved.

The story itself is compelling and well-paced. There is enough action to be engaging, but enough character development and exposition so that things don't feel disconnected. There were times when I would arrive at my destination and have to sit in the car waiting for a good place to stop, but really, there were no good places to stop. Slaughter has given us another great mystery/thriller, one that will grip you and hold tight until the very end.

Thanks to AudioGo for providing me with 5 (yes, FIVE) audiobooks to give away to me readers. If you are interested in a copy, please comment below with your email or blog address. I will use the ol' "pull names out of a hat" trick to decide who the lucky recipients are. No, you don't have to become a follower, or find me on Twitter, or send me a pint of blood or your first born child. Just say hi!

Book Blog Tour-Fallen, by Karin Slaughter

2011-06-23T06:00:00.003-05:00

I am pretty jazzed to be participating in my first ever book blog tour. I tend not to accept too many review requests here at Book Addict Reviews (I prefer to read on my whim and schedule, I suppose), but I was thrilled to be asked to be a stop on the tour for Karin Slaughter's new audiobook, Fallen, which was released on June 17, 2011. (For those of you who prefer the paper version, it came out June 21!) While the audiobook is not my usual format of choice (and the review post for this book will explain why), Karin Slaughter's name was enough for me to be interested.

Fallen is a book in the Will Trent/Faith Mitchell series. Followers of the series will know that Will has severe dyslexia, and is exploring the idea of leaving his emotionally abusive marriage to Angie and taking a chance on Sara, but he is truly feels that someone as smart as Sara could never want someone as stupid as him. Here's what Karin Slaughter had to say about Will's dyslexia and how it relates to Will and Sara's relationship:

Q) Will is dyslexic and yet very intelligent. He even mentions in Fallen that he listens to audiobooks! What made you decide to make him dyslexic when you introduced him? He passes very well, but will we see a point where he gets official treatment or help for this problem?

A) First, let me say that many dyslexics are not just intelligent, but highly intelligent. Einstein, Michelangelo. Richard Branson isn’t the only CEO who has dyslexia. In my experience, dyslexics tend to be driven, smart and fascinating people. It’s as if they excel because of, not in spite of, the disorder. Think about it this way: dyslexics use five times the brain area to perform language tasks. Five times! Their default programming was to give up on language, yet their brains found a way to rewire the pathways so they could communicate. This is not the work of a stupid brain.

So, to your question: Some writers use literacy as character development—so, much in the way that Hollywood shows “bad” characters smoking and wearing black hats, writers tend to paint their good characters as booklovers and all the bad ones as semi-literate Neanderthals. With Will, I wanted the challenge of writing about someone who can’t read well. (I should say here that he can read, it just takes him longer) Will’s dyslexia is something that holds him back, but only because he lets it. He won’t get help. He won’t tell people he has it. He is ashamed of it, like it’s something he can control. Now, not many people know this, but when I wrote the character of Will Trent, I knew that he would eventually meet Sara Linton. Sara looks at Will’s dyslexia the same way she looks at the color of his eyes; it’s something genetic, it’s wired into him and can’t be changed. She’s the first person in Will’s life who’s ever looked at him this way, and that’s something of a revelation to him. Now, as for getting occupational therapy, Sara is the exact wrong person to help him with this. And she doesn’t want to help him, because she knows that he has to reach that point on his own. Unlike Angie, Sara is very good at relationships, and she knows that there are lines you don’t cross. She wants to give Will his dignity. As for what Will ends up doing—they call it a “mystery” for a reason!

Welcome to Karin Slaughter's Book Blog Tour!

2011-06-21T22:12:00.000-05:00

I'm excited to be taking part in my first book blog tour, and thrilled that it is for Karin Slaughter, one of my favorite mystery/thriller authors!

Slaughter's new book, Fallen, comes out this week. Here's the schedule for the tour, in case you want to check out all of the reviews.

6/21/2011	Jen's Book Thoughts
6/22/2011	In Reference to Murder
6/23/2011	Book Addict Reviews
6/28/2011	Dew on the Kudzu
6/30/2011	Beth Fish Reads
7/1/2011	Teresa's Reading Corner
7/5/2011	You've GOTTA Read This!
7/6/2011	Girls in the Stacks

City of Shadows, by Ariana Franklin

2011-06-20T21:40:00.001-05:00

There is something about royalty that is fascinating to many of us. If you need any evidence of this, just take a look at the enormous amount of media coverage that the recent royal wedding of Prince William to Kate Middleton received. I know that I am not the only woman who spent a good part of her girlhood wishing that she had been born a princess.

The 20th century was a bad time for royalty. Many, many monarchies either disappeared completely or were weakened to the point of figurehead status, including the kingdom of which Prince William will one day be the king. But perhaps no one had it as bad as the Romanovs of Russia. The repressive political system in Russia led to tyranny, ethnic cleansing, and the exacerbation of poverty. In response, the Bolsheviks didn't just depose the royal family-they executed them, all of them, including the children. This is probably not a new story to most of you-the tragedy of Prince Alexei and his four sisters, the grand-duchesses. The most famous of those little girls, of course, was Anastasia. Years after the massacre at Ekaterinburg, a woman turned up claiming to be Grand Duchess Anastasia. She convinced many many, usually wealthy, people that she was in fact the daughter of Czar Nikolas. It is this woman, Anna Anderson, that provides the underlying structure of Ariana Franklin's City of Shadows.

(From Amazon) "British author Franklin (the pseudonym of a veteran historical fiction writer) makes the most of an original premise in this engrossing thriller that opens in 1922 Berlin. The German government is in crisis, inflation is staggering, anti-Semitism is rife, citizens are starving and Hitler has begun his rise to power. Horribly scarred Esther Solonomova works as a secretary for fake Russian nobleman Prince Nick, the owner of several Berlin nightclubs (think Cabaret) catering to the rich, the foreign and the deviant. Nick finds an inmate in a local asylum who claims to be the Grand Duchess Anastasia, sole survivor of the slaughter of Russia's royal family. Prince Nick renames the inmate Anna Anderson, installs her in an apartment with Esther and sets in motion plans to get his hands on the money and jewels that Anna will claim as the heir to the Russian throne. But a mysterious Nazi is trying to murder Anna, and those near her begin to die."

I read and enjoyed Ariana Franklin's historical mystery series about Adelia, a Salerno-trained doctor solving crimes during the reign of Henry II of England, so I had high hopes for this novel, and it delivered. Rich characters were a big part of its appeal-Esther is a woman with a painful past, the detective who investigates the murders, Seigfried Schmidt, is decent and driven by the horrors he witnessed during the war. But what really made the book for me was the evocative way that Franklin wrote about Germany between the big wars. Reading about the rise of Hitler was a little bit like seeing a horrific accident happen and being unable to stop it. You really get the sense of how an entire country was taken in by this charismatic leader who played on their fears and promised to get the country out from under the yoke of the "Jewish bankers" who were ruining the lives of good, hard-working Germans. The "is she or isn't she?" subplot worked well as a framework for this story, and Franklin did something that not too many mystery writers are able to do anymore-she completely surprised me with the ending. All in all I'd say that if you are looking for a mystery with a little more substance than is usual in today's world of books, then you would enjoy this one.

Breaking Up is Hard To Do

2011-06-15T08:41:00.000-05:00

Dear Kay Scarpetta (aka Patricia Cornwell),

It is with great sadness that I write this. You and I have been friends for a long time, since the beginning of your literary career, in fact. I was there through all of the terrifying cases, through the death of your boyfriend Mark in the London tube bombing, through all the ups and downs with Benton Wesley. Like you I mourned when he "died", and was confused, angry, and eventually joyful when he returned from the dead. I worried along with you about your niece Lucy-so much anger and cunning in one so young, but we both know she has a good heart. And Pete Marino-there is perhaps no one else that you (and I) have gone through so much with. I would have thought that you two (three) would be there for each other until the very end. I still can't believe that he tried to rape you...

Wait a minute-I really can't believe that he tried to rape you. I mean, can't believe it as in "that is completely inconsistent with his character up to this point in a very long book series". Looking back, I realize that this was the beginning of the end for us, Kay. After that, too many things changed in your life and the arc of the books, and I just can't keep up. Changing cities, changing jobs, Pete's dismissal to the periphery. Not even making Lucy a more central character (I continue to love her, BTW-maybe she can get her own series?!?) is making me enjoy our relationship any longer. When I tried to reconnect last week by reading The Scarpetta Factor, I couldn't even make it through the first 100 pages.

So, after 20 years, I'm breaking up with you. I will always remember the good times we've shared, collecting clues and catching bad guys. But it seems we've grown apart, want different things now. Good luck in your new job in New York City, or wherever else your author sends you. I'd like to say that I'll keep in touch, but I think we both know that would be a lie.

Love always,
Heather

Literary Blog Hop-Reading in a Bubble

2011-06-09T10:48:00.000-05:00

This week's topic for the Literary Blog Hop, hosted by The Blue Bookcase, is this:

What outside influences affect your reading experience? Do you think these influences enhance or detract from the experience?

I have to admit that at first I wasn't entirely sure what this meant. Are we talking physical surroundings? Environmental noise? People who are clearly not readers interrupting you to ask you what you are reading (because if they were readers they would never interrupt you!)?

But reading Meghan's answer, I see now that the question pertains to something more subtle and less concrete than that. Meghan's story about seeing a Hallmark adaptation of a book that colored her future reading of the book illustrates that our life experiences with one book in particular or a subject in general can change the way that we perceive a text. In reading theory, we call that the transactional theory of reading. The idea that each of us brings different experiences, behaviors, and feelings to a piece of writing, and therefore we each go away from the text with something different. There may be many places where people's perceptions or feelings about the books overlap-after all, any freshman English teacher can tell you the major themes of Lord of the Flies or To Kill a Mockingbird-but no two people will read and understand a book in exactly the same way. This is especially true for literary works, where authors' use of symbolism, metaphor, and allegory can lead readers down many paths of understanding based on their own knowledge and experiences. Non-Christians not living in the US may read The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe and have no clue that a lot of it is Christian symbolism. Reading can never be context independent.

So, understanding reading as a transactional process, then my answer to the question of which outside influences affect the reading experience is ALL OF THEM. Like Meghan could not divorce her mind from the different ending of the movie version of the book she was reading, none of us can put our own knowledge, experiences, and feelings aside when reading. What to me was a very sexist book about the relationships of husbands and wives (I'm looking at you, On Strike for Christmas) was to my friend a charming story about wifely assertiveness. A story about an Africa refugee from Nigeria might read very differently to someone of African descent than someone of Asian or European descent. Our common understanding of theme and mood come from discussion, from sharing each person's own take on the book, from analyzing it from academic as well as personal perspectives. As a reader, I can often see why an author chose a certain style, and appreciate it for it's artistic merit, but in the end how I respond to a book has more to do with me than with the author.

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

2011-06-03T11:55:00.000-05:00

I was not prepared. When I decided to read Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro, I did so as a way to give the author a second try. I have tried to read The Remains of the Day back in college, and I found the tight, closely-controlled writing difficult, and not in a good way. When I saw the movie they made from the book, I realized why it was written the way that it was. But I couldn't get through it. When I started to see Never Let Me Go all over the blogosphere, I had to work myself up for another try. I try not to read too many reviews of the books I'm going to read before I read them-I don't want someone else's opinion to blur my own-so I really didn't know much about the book except that I had tried to read this author before and failed.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that this book is about as far away from the content of The Remains of the Day as it is possible to get and still be the same form of media. Never Let Me Go is the story of Kath, Tommy, and Ruth, three students at a boarding school in England, which you very quickly realize is not your typical boarding school. The students are clones, created specifically to become organ donors. Their teachers try to shield them as best they can from the inevitability of their fate, but each in their turn goes off to be a carer-someone who helps donors recover-until it is their turn to be cut up for parts.

Given the subject matter, you might assume that this book is a treatise on medical ethics or social justice, but Ishiguro uses this rather interesting setting to tell a coming-of-age story. The story is told with Kath as narrator, and it opens with her getting ready to retire from being a carer. The story is told as memory, in Hansel and Gretl fashion-Ishiguor leaves a trail of crumbs, hints of what is really going on behind the placid boarding school setting, tidbits that make it impossible to stop reading until you figure out what is going on. Everything is just slightly askew in this book-it's like the real world slipped sideways just a bit.

Ishiguro begins with Kath explaining her retirement from being a carer, though at the time you have no idea what that actually means. What this narrative structure does is allow the reader to spend the bulk of the novel pondering the relationships the characters have to each other, rather than waiting for them to escape from their predicament. While the fact of their creation and eventual destruction is always below the surface, there are many things in Ruth, Kath, and Tommy that are familiar. First love, jealousy, betrayal, insecurity-all pretty universal elements of a classic coming-of-age story. By the time Ishiguro finally gets around to giving you enough information about the donation program to figure out what's been going on, it's practically the end of the book. Only then do you realize that what you have been reading is not just your ordinary teenage love story, but a story about what it means to be human. If clones can love and hurt and feel anger and fear, then what separates them from the "natural" people who created them?

Sleep Toward Heaven

2011-06-02T06:00:00.000-05:00

While I try not to get too political on this blog, I will state now that I am against the death penalty. I don't see how the use of state-sanctioned killing makes us any safer or improves us as a society or a race. I would like to think that if the worst happened and one of my loved ones was murdered, I would be able to stand up for what I believe is right and not give in to the anger or the need for revenge. Why do I bring this up, you ask? Because the death penalty and what it means to the condemned and the families of the victims plays a major role in Sleep Toward Heaven, by Amanda Eyre Ward.

Sleep Toward Heaven is the story of three women-Karen, convicted serial killer; Franny, prison doctor; and Celia, the widow of Karen's final victim. Karen resists human connection, wanting nothing holding her in a world she desperately wants to leave. Her life, from miserable beginning with a drug addicted, abusive mother to horrifying end, has been nothing but fear and pain and hopelessness. Franny, recovering from the loss of a beloved patient and the uncle who raised her, is also afraid of making human connection. Feeling that every human deserves comfort, how can she comfort Karen, knowing she can not save her? Celia desperately wants human connection-but only with the husband that she can never be with. She is stuck in place, unable to move on with her life. It seems that forgiveness is what each is seeking-Karen, forgiveness for her crimes; and Franny, forgiveness for not being able to save her patients. Celia's need is not for forgiveness for herself, but for the courage and strength to forgive Karen, who took so much from her.

The women in this book are fairly well-drawn characters, and I found myself connecting to each of them in different ways. Ward does an excellent job setting the mood with her descriptions of the prison, or the sweltering Texas summer, which adds to the overall feeling of oppression that exists in the book. Each woman is being held back by something-guilt, illness, fear, anger-and their inability to move forward mimics the lethargy of a hot, humid afternoon, when you just want to be still because every movement is such an effort.

The one thing that bothered me about the book, which is pretty well paced and engaging, was the sub-plot of Karen from before she was in prison. She was abused as a child, started prostituting herself at a young age, met a woman who she fell in love with. They lived in a motel, and Karen would pick up johns at rest areas and truck stops to support them. When she started killing, it was partly self-defense and partly to get things for her lover. Does that sound familiar to anyone? If you've seen the movie Monster, about serial killer Aileen Wuornos, then it should. So many of the details were the same it felt a little less like mirroring contemporary culture and a little more like fictionalizing someone's life without so much as a passing reference. Overall I would say this is a decent easy read.

World (Book) Without End

2011-05-31T22:17:00.000-05:00

Like many people I watched the mini-series on Starz of Ken Follet's epic tale of love, intrigue and cathedral building Pillars of the Earth. While I had not read the book, I was completely drawn into the mini-series, which featured a stellar cast and a pretty decent script. Before embarking on a long drive to visit my parents in northern Michigan, I decided to download the audiobook of Follet's follow-up effort to Pillars of the Earth, called World Without End. Fifteen hours in the car and two months later, I have finally gotten to the end of the story.

World Without End follow the small English town of Kingsbridge, the same town featured in Pillars of the Earth. World Without End advances the story a couple of hundred years-the tale begins in the early 14th century. The cathedral that Tom and Jack Builder envisioned stands tall and proud, as do the monks that live and work there. On a bright autumn day during the fleece fair, four children go exploring in the woods. The stumble upon a knight, fighting for his life against two armed men. One of the children manages to kill one of the men, and the knight is saved. The knight has a secret, which he buries in the forest. This sets off a chain of events that leads to love, murder, treachery, betrayal, a bridge, an awful lot of sex, and the tallest tower in England.

As historical fiction goes, Follet's work is first-class. Given the enormous amount of detail about 14th century Follet is either really detailed in imagining his fictional settings or the book is meticulously researched. I definitely know more about medieval town politics than I ever thought I would.

Like many young girls, I decided after reading too many fairy tales that I wanted to live back in the days of kings and queens, courtly love, all that...yeah, not so much. The amount of superstition, sexism, and classism in 14th century England made me want to punch something, hard. I'm not unfamiliar with the lack of social justice back, back, back in the day, but I got sucked into Follett's characters and his fictional village such that every injustice left me frustrated and angry and swearing at various fictional people in my car. In the end, everything turned out exactly as I would have wanted, but I suppose when one book covers the better part of 50 years that's not as unbelievable as it sounds. Frankly, it just confirms my firm belief that in the end, everyone gets what they deserve.

A Book Geek's Dream

2011-05-22T13:35:00.000-05:00

It has become more and more obvious to me, in part thanks to a thought-provoking series of posts from The Reading Ape, that there is a very clear culture of reading among serious readers, and a strong subculture specific to book bloggers. We have our own jargon, common practices, etiquette...all of it built on a foundation of love for books and storytelling. So it comes as no surprise to me that I had to find the book blogger community to find Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next series. Fforde's books are a treasure trove of literary references and inside jokes any serious reader, especially of classic literature, should feel right at home in what is a decidedly strange world.

I just finished The Eyre Affair. It is the novel that introduced Thursday Next, a SpecOps agent on the LiteraTec squad-that is, the group that is responsible for protecting the great books from harm. While this includes rather ordinary things like verifying manuscripts for authenticity, it also includes some decidedly unusual things-like traveling into the book in pursuit of an evil villain out to destroy the great works of literature. The Eyre Affair is a rather strange combination of literary discussion and science fiction, all rolled up into a thriller format.

I will admit that the structure of the novel didn't always sit well with me, and I'll have to read more to see if the rules that govern his particular universe stay consistent. There are a lot of moving parts in this novel-Thursday herself and her past, a time-traveling father, a giant corporation (named Goliath-not the most subtle name I'll admit) that secretly runs things behind the scene, and a bullet-proof super-villain who can't be seen on camera and can apparently change the molecular structure of glass. Intrigued yet?

What I loved about this novel is the creation of a world where literature is so important to everyone that an entire arm of the government is dedicated to it. In Fforde's world, the Marlovians and Oxfordians feel so strongly about their positions they go door to door like Jehovah's Witnesses trying to get converts, as though Shakespearean authorship study is a religion (frankly, there's just as much evidence for some of the authorship theories as their is for some religious beliefs, namely not much) Some literary movements actually took up arms to fight for their literary theory, though that does seem like taking it a bit too far. Imagine a world where people cared that much about reading and books. That's not to say I thought this book was without its problems-the characters were not that well developed, and the action jumped around a bit. But as fun, escapist reading for readers, this book was a winner.

Top Ten Tuesday: Minor Character Love

2011-05-17T11:52:00.000-05:00

This week's Top Ten topic, from the brilliant bloggers at The Broke and the Bookish, is Top Ten Minor Characters. It's interesting that this topic came up this week, as I am finally reading The Eyre Affair, which is full of talk about minor characters and how taking them out of books is a crime. I'm going to try not to let this list devolve into Top Ten Sidekicks Redux, but I admit to having trouble thinking of enough minor characters to fill a whole list...besides, there are no small parts, only small actors, or something like that...

10. Octavia, Venia, and Falvius from The Hunger Games-These three were Katniss's prep team for the Hunger Games, and along with her stylist Cinna were in charge of getting her support from wealthy capitol residents. I'm not sure why I found them so charming-they are completely shallow and not that bright, but something about them just struck me as endearing.

9. Robin Castagna, from Jonathan Kellerman's Alex Delaware series-Robin is Alex's love interest, a musician who makes and restore guitars and other stringed instruments. She provides the perfect compliment to Delaware's rather driven nature. I was so upset when they split for a couple of books, but they are back together and all is right with the world.

8. Neville Longbottom from Harry Potter-Poor Neville! He just couldn't seem to catch a break, could he? And I only loved him more after I found out what happened to his parents. Such a sad story!

7. Fletch, from Bitter is the New Black by Jen Lancaster-OK, so he's a real person, and therefore not minor in the least, but I love reading about him as Jen writes about him. He appears rather saintly, putting up with her snarkiness. I admit to being convinced that Jen and I are destined to meet on the streets of Chicago and become besties, and then I would get to meet the sainted Fletch in person!

6. The Town of Niniltna and The Park, from Dana Stabenow's Kate Shugak series-I realize that choosing the whole town is a bit of a cop out, but there are so many interesting, quirky characters in this series that choosing one is almost impossible. This series makes me want to lace up my mukluks, grab my parka, jump on my snowmobile, and ride down a frozen river.

5. Miss Celia from The Help-Poor trashy Celia! She is so out of her depth in the world of privileged Southern women, and her poor, stupid husband just doesn't seem to get it.

4. Windsor Horne Lockwood III from Harlan Coben's Myron Bolitar series-Win, as he is known, is a rich and powerful child of privilege who is completely amoral but fiercely loyal to the few people he calls friend. What's not to love?

3. Moira, from The Handmaid's Tale-I'm not sure if it is the fact that she was a lesbian, or the fact that she refused to accept her fate as a Handmaid and ran away, but whatever the reason I always felt close to Moira when reading this book. What happens to her is tragic, but I would not have felt it so strongly if I didn't also feel a strong connection to her.

2. Eeyore, from Winnie the Pooh-I know that he is all sad and stuff, but he makes me happy. Perverse, I realize, but there it is.

1. Lucy Farinelli, from the Kay Scarpetta series by Patricia Cornwell-She's slowly become a more major than minor character, but I loved her from her precocious, 10 year old start. Kay's neice, only daughter of her flighty, many-times married sister, Kay has always taken care of Lucy as best she could. Lucy is brilliant, a millionaire by 25, but emotionally stunted, especially after she is sucked in by the manipulative Carrie Grethen, who uses her love to try and kill Scarpetta. She might be my current favorite character from this series.

Rediscovering the Punny World of Fantasy

2011-05-16T11:24:00.000-05:00

For a period of a few years when I was in middle school and high school, I read almost exclusively science fiction and fantasy. My love affair with science fiction started with A Wrinkle in Time, and my first fantasy love was The Wishstones of Shannarah. I tore through the works of Terry Brooks, Lloyd Alexander, Susan Cooper, Stephen R. Donaldson, Anne McCaffery, and Ursula K. LeGuin. One of my favorite authors from this period was Piers Anthony. His Xanth novels were always light and amusing, and better yet, there were a TON of them. I spent whole weekends ensconced in my room with a pile of Xanth novels, reading non-stop while listening to Abba on vinyl. That's right, I was a total nerd, but a happy one!

Then I went away to college, and spent my reading time on textbooks instead of reading for pleasure. Between that and the fact that I'd lost my book supplier (my mother, who was somehow not willing to drive two hours just to take me to the bookstore for more reading material), I didn't read a Xanth book for a long time. When I finally did get back to them, I was saddened to discover that the puns that I thought were so funny and clever in my teens now seemed a bit immature. I remember how sad I was at not really enjoying the books as I once had.

Fast forward 20 years, and I am once again in love with a goofy, pun-filled series of fantasy humor. Terry Pratchett's Discworld series was recommended to me by a friend years ago, but for some reason I never managed to pick up any of his books. Finally two circumstances fell into place-morning door duty and an iPod Touch. One morning at school while on door duty, in between buses coming in, I was exploring my new iPod Touch, and there in the iBooks store was Terry Prachett's Color of Magic for less than $5. The universe had finally brought Prachett and I together.

The Color of Magic is the first book in the Discworld series, though not necessarily the first book chronologically in the Discworld mythology. In The Color of Magic we are introduced to Rincewind, a failed wizard living a dissolute life in Ankh-Morpork, a large city on the Disc, a world being carried through the universe by four elephants that are perched on a large turtle A'Tuin. Rincewind chances to meet Twoflower, a tourist from across the sea, who has a magic chest that follows him everywhere. What Rincewind doesn't know is that he and Twoflower are pawns in a large chess game being played by the gods and goddesses of the Discworld. Rincewind becomes Twoflower's tour guide and protector, and they travel around the Discworld meeting all manner of magical beings, heroes, and danger. Despite being completely inept as a wizard, somehow Rincewind manages to take advantage of every piece of luck that comes his way to help Twoflower and himself survive.

The books is full of puns, illogical magical mythology, and humor, just like the Xanth novels. But unlike Anthony's series, The Color of Magic also feels more mature. A combination of satire and silliness, The Color of Magic is a light read, with layers of meaning that can be thought about-or not-at your leisure. Pratchett's books are like a big "wink wink, nudge nudge" to the fantasy community, at once spoofing it and enriching it. If you, like me, loved fantasy as a youth but find it rather immature as an adult, then Pratchett's books may be right up your alley.

Top Ten Tuesday: Jerkface!

2011-05-10T06:00:00.000-05:00

Thanks to The Broke and the Bookish for hosting this weekly excuse for list-making! This week's topic is Top Ten Literary Jerks. Well, I guess the hero/villain dichotomy doesn't really work without Jerky Jerkerson, the jerky mayor of Jerkytown, Jerksylvania, so here are a few I found distasteful.

1. Anne Coulter-I don't care if she's a real person (and that she isn't literary)! She's still a bookish jerk! She is everything that is wrong with the way politics is discussed in this country. While we disagree about, oh, every single topic in American political and cultural life, I could live with that if she could express her disagreement without calling people names like the playground bully.

2. Curly, Of Mice and Men-Curly was the boss's son, the little guy who liked to pick fights to try and prove what a man he was. There should really be a sub-category of jerkiness just for boss's sons. And to continue a theme...

3. Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter-While not exactly the boss's son, he was a child of privilege who felt a need to hold it over everyone's head and generally make their lives miserable.

4. Bill Sikes, Oliver Twist-He takes jerkiness to a whole new level. I mean, is there any major crime he leaves undone? Robbery, child abuse, domestic violence, animal cruelty, and murder-he's a one stop criminal shop. Plus, he's a got a really foul attitude!

5. Prior Godwyn, World Without End-I've been listening to the second installment of Ken Follett's epic tale of medieval cathedral/bridge building, and while most of the men in the novel make me want to run my car into the embankment with their sexism and superstition, Prior Godwyn takes the cake. While you have to excuse most of the characters their ignorance due to, you know, the fact that they are living in 14th century England, he is purposefully and willfully deceptive, manipulative, greedy, and dishonest.

6. Mr. and Mrs. Wormwood, Matilda-While the Trunchbull has made my list of favorite villains and bitc..I mean, mean girls, this category seems prefectly made for Matilda's neglectful, conniving, hateful parents. Thank goodness for Miss Honey!

7. Big Jim Rennie, Under the Dome-Stephen King always has some jerky characters in his books, but very few rise to the level of Big Jim. When the dome descends on his small Maine town, Big Jim, car salesman and city councilman, could have gone into action to help his fellow townspeople. Instead, he steals their propane, gets anyone who disagrees with him thrown in jail and/or beaten, and tries to protect a meth lab that ends up destroying the whole town when it explodes. That, and he doesn't even notice his own son has gone off the deep end.

8. Daniel Cleaver, Bridget Jones Diary-I have to admit that I never read this book, only saw the movie version. Chick lit isn't really my thing, but the movie had Hugh Grant in it, so there you go. What I didn't realize going in was that he was the jerkface of that story. Oh, but what a cute jerkface it is!

9. Commander Fred, The Handmaid's Tale-Let's see, he and the other powerful men that killed the president and created a theocratic military regime keep fertile women as slaves, refusing to even allow them their own name, all for the glory of God and country. And the description of the martial bed...ewwwww does not begin to cover it.

10. Jack Randall, Outlander-When Claire finds herself transported back to 18th century Scotland, the first person she meets is this cruel, sneering man. He later proves to be sadistic and single-minded in his desire to hurt her and have her husband Jamie as his own. When Jamie is later captured by Randall, he is tortured and sexually assaulted by him. Charming.

Spider Bones, Kathy Reichs

2011-05-08T08:58:00.000-05:00

Back in my "only reads mystery and thrillers" days, I became infatuated with the Temperance Brennan series by Kathy Reichs. I loved all of the smart, strong female detectives-Kinsey Milhone, Kay Scarpetta, Skip Langdon-but Tempe was one of my favorites. Maybe it was the whole anthropology thing, but I devoured every book as soon as I could get my hands on it.

Then came the show Bones-so loosely based on this series that if the character didn't have the same name I would never have known they were related at all. After the success of Bones, it felt to me like Reichs was calling it in with her books. I know that there must have been pressure on her to keep churning out the books at the same one-a-year rate even after she started working on the show, but the last few books have been pretty thin-in numbers of pages, plot, and character development.

So it is with great pleasure that I am able to report that Spider Bones, her latest book, seems to be swinging back in the other direction. In Spider Bones, Tempe investigates a drowning victim in Canada. It seems like a clear case of accidental death, but there's a snag-the fingerprints identify the victim as a man who was supposedly killed in Viet Nam in 1968. Tempe travels to Hawaii to the Joint Prisoners of War/Missing in Action Accounting Command, or JPAC, a military agency tasked with searching out and identifying America's war dead from World War II, Korea, and Viet Nam. What starts as a routine investigation turn violent when Tempe's work stirs up the interest of a local businessman with mob connections and a Samoan drug cartel.

While not as good as the best of her early books, this novel takes a step in the right direction. The mystery kept me guessing, which can be hard to do since I've read so many mysteries and thrillers over the years. The topic was interesting, and not something I knew before. But what really makes this series for me is the interplay between Tempe and Andrew Ryan, the Canadian cop who she has an on-again-off-again relationship with. If you're also a Reichs fan, I think that you will enjoy this one better than the last few. I only hope they continue to go back to their glory days before the distraction of Bones.

Literary Blog Hop: How Mushy is Too Mushy?

2011-04-29T19:39:00.000-05:00

The Literary Blog Hop is hosted by The Blue Bookcase every other week. This week's topic for discussion is:

Discuss your thoughts on sentimentality in literature. When is emotion in literature effective and when is it superfluous? Use examples.

Well, other than it feels slightly like a test question from some literature class I may have taken in college, this is an interesting question. First, I feel a need to question a basic premise inherent in the questions-namely, that emotion and sentimentality are synonymous.

The Free Dictionary defines sentimentality as "The quality or condition of being excessively or affectedly sentimental.". Apparently it is now OK to define a word using the word...at any rate, they go on to define sentimental as "Affectedly or extravagantly emotional.". Therefore, while emotion is a component of sentimentality, all emotion is not sentimental. My understanding of the word is as something rather sappy, perhaps manipulative.

Now, I can't think of any readers of fiction that I know personally who want to read books that do not elicit some emotion in the reader. Most of us want to be swept away in a the lives of the characters, want to learn something about what it means to be human through experiencing the made-up world the author has created. It follows then that emotion in literature is not only a good thing, but an expected, integral thing. If literature is meant to mirror and examine the human experience, then it would be impossible to divorce it from emotion.

To me the most important word in the definition of sentimental is "affectedly". That one word rather sums up my feelings on sentimentality versus emotion in literature. By nature an affectation is not entirely sincere, and that is how most sentimentality in literature, or anything else, feels to me-insincere and unauthentic. Strangely enough I can't think of a literary example for the moment, but I can think of some pop culture examples-Lifetime movies and Extreme Makeover Home Edition.

Now, I should say up front that I am a crier. I love to cry at books or movies. It doesn't have to be sad or tragic either-I'm an equal opportunity sobber. I cry happy tears or sad tears or angry tears just as easily for fictional characters as I do for myself. So the term tearjerker does not hold any negative connotations for me. But I want that emotion to come from the strength of the story-not from artificial conditions created by a producer (I'm looking at you Ty Pennington!), or director, or author. I want the emotion to come from someone speaking their truth, whether real or fictional. I can just imagine the conversations around the table when a new Lifetime movie is being planned-especially if it happens to be around Christmas time. It's like they have developed a formula for maximum tear potential. Take one spunky woman down on her luck, give he a few kids to support, add hunky yet gentle guy who helps her love again, stir, and cry. There are variations on this theme, but generally none of them feel authentic to me. Then there is Extreme Makeover, Poor-Down-on-Their-Luck Family Edition. I believe that everyone on that show probably does feel like they are saving the world one sad, miserable family at a time, but I'd rather they took their fake sentimentality and all of the money that show makes and donated it to Habitat for Humanity.

Maybe the reason that I can't think of a literary example is that I tend to shy away from books that appear to have that Lifetime movie quality. I can think of plenty of examples of books that I love and admire that have strong emotion-The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg, The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, to name a few. But other than On Strike for Christmas, a book I was forced to read by may book club which led to one of my most sarcastic posts ever, I can't think of any real counter-examples. And that's the way I like it.

The Summoner, by Layton Green

2011-04-28T12:15:00.000-05:00

After the Da Vinci Code, there was quite a market created for historical thrillers. Layton Green takes this now rather cliche formula and turns it on it's head, giving us a dark, gritty story of blood sacrifice and ancient evil in his book The Summoner.

Dominic Grey is a member of the Diplomatic Security Service. He is a man with a past-abused by his father as a boy, he ran away from home at 16 and has spent his adult life traveling the world, learning jiu-jitsu and taking a number of dangerous jobs. He is called in to investigate after a US diplomat disappears during a religious ceremony in the bush. Along with his minder, Nya Mushumbu, they investigate, only to find that there appear to be magical forces at work. Viktor Radek, a religious phenomenologist and expert on cults is brought in to help them understand the forces that they are dealing with. Thwarted at every turn by the political and bureaucratic nightmare that is modern-day Zimbabwe, Grey and Nya soon find themselves working outside of the law-and facing an enemy who seems to have supernatural powers.

When I was approached to review this book, I was very intrigued by the premise. It seemed to take the historical thriller genre in another direction, focusing on ancient religions and some of their more sensational practices and placing them in the 21st century. The resulting conflict between modern man's rational thought and ancient "supernatural" occurrences becomes a central feature of the mystery. The mystery was not just what happened to the diplomat, but whether what appeared to happen could in fact be real.

As I read I could literally see this playing out as a movie in my mind, something that is not always true of the books I read. I think that this would make an excellent movie. It is fast-paced, has some truly gruesome scenes of ju-ju blood rituals, and characters that radiate evil rather strongly. While I enjoyed the story quite a bit, it did have some of the same problems I see with Dan Brown's writing. Prof. Radek spends paragraphs on exposition, which can start to feel like a history lesson. But Layton does a better job of placing them in the action. Radek is not hurriedly explaining the history of ju-ju as they are literally running for their lives, but during moments in between the action. He also makes them a bit shorter, which helps the flow of the book. Speaking of the flow, while it was well-paced, I felt that there were areas that could have used more development. Unless you had pretty good background knowledge about Zimbabwe some of the cultural references would be troubling, and a little bit more information about the Diplomatic Security Service, how it works, etc...might have been useful. I think all in all this is a good start to what is going to be a series of historical thrillers about Dominic Grey. I look forward to seeing how the characters develop over time, and how Green's writing grows as he continues the series.

(Thanks to Mr. Green for providing me a review copy of the book!)

Top Ten Tuesday: Mean Girls

2011-04-26T17:39:00.000-05:00

Top Ten Tuesday is hosted by the lovely ladies at The Broke and the Bookish for all of us that love lists. This week's topic is Top Ten Mean Girls. I had to really give it some thought, since I would probably choose a slightly more, ummm, colorful word to describe most of these women (rhymes with "stitch, if you know what I mean). I only got up to eight before I ran out of time, but they are pretty representative of the type, I think!

1. Miss Hilly from The Help-I don't know if it was her shocking-by-today's-standards racism, or just her general mean-spiritedness, but she was a character I loved to hate.

2. Cruella Deville from 101 Dalmations-A fur coat from puppies, do I really need to explain more than that?

3. The Trunchbull, from Matilda-She was the headmistress from Hell, until Matilda gave her her comeuppance!

4. Lady MacBeth, from, well, you know where-I don't care how bad she felt about it later (out, damned spot!), she started that whole miserable mess.

5. Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest-What a horrible, nasty, cruel person she was!

6. Mrs. John Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility-Her greed and general snootiness make her a perfect Vistorian mean girl!

7. Dolores Umbridge from Harry Potter-Again with the racism! Muggles unite!

8. The White Witch from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe-The movie version of her was exactly as I envisioned her when I read the books back in the early 1980s. Haughty and cruel.

The 19th Wife, or Why Conjugal Subjugation is Bad

2011-04-25T21:48:00.001-05:00

OK, I'll admit it-I have a morbid fascination with the idea of Mormon polygamy. It's not quite risen to the point that I am watching Sister Wives on TLC, but it's close. I've decided it's similar to the reason rubberneckers slow down at an accident scene, or people rush out to see the results of some natural disaster. Somehow you just get sucked into the horror and drama of it all. I also have a strange fascination with Mormonism in general. As an atheist most religious belief stretches the bounds of my reason, but Mormonism in particular (along with Scientology) surprise me. Most faith traditions at least have thousands of years of cultural weight behind them. I have a hard time seeing how Mormonism started, however, given that it was only founded in the mid-1800s. I mean, if Joseph Smith were a "prophet" today, and claimed that he spoke with the angel Moroni and that he found golden plates with the words of God on them, but then lost them again, the psychiatric community would call him schizophrenic. I don't mean to sound disrespectful-I feel strongly that everyone has the right to their own religious beliefs. I'm just making an observation.

At any rate, after reading a book about the founding of Mormonism, I've wanted to read more about the early history of the church. In his novel, The 19th Wife, David Ebershoff uses the real-life story of Ann Eliza Young, one of Brigham Young's many wives, as the frame for his modern day tale of polygamous cults and murder. The books goes back and forth between "historical" documents written by Ann Eliza and her father, and the story of Jordan Scott, a young man excommunicated from a Mormon offshoot, the Firsts. The Firsts are a polygamous cult, headed by a man called the Prophet. The Firsts believe that the Mormon church was wrong to abolish the practice of "celestial marraige", as polygamy was called. They have dedicated themselves to continuing what they see as God's true wish in their desert town of Mesadale. Jordan's mother, the 19th wife of one of the elders, is accused of killing him in a fit of jealousy. After swearing he would never return to Mesadale, he agrees to visit his mother in jail, and becomes convinced she did not commit the crime. Working with his mother's lawyer and some other ex-Firsts, he investigates what really happened.

Ebershoff obviously did a lot of research in preparation of writing The 19th Wife. Ann Eliza Young was a real person, and she did write a memoir of her time as a Mormon. While Ebershoff is clear that the book is a fictional account, there is a lot of factual information. I read several parts of the books with my laptop close by, so that I could check the factual nature of the story. The Firsts are surely modeled after the Fundamentalist Church of Later-Day Saints, the polygamist cult headed by the notorious Warren Jeffs. Jordan's character and the other former Firsters in the book describe many of the conditions that The FLDS has been accused of. Aside from the many wives of the men, there were accusations of welfare fraud, child abuse, child sexual abuse, rape, and the forcible marriage of underage girls to much older men. While there are those that argue that plural marriage is a religious practice that should be respected when entered into by consenting adults, I think that we've seen enough evidence in a variety of cultures that in reality plural marriage mostly serves to concentrate power in the males of the group, and leave the women very little control over their lives.

Book Blogger Hop-The Hunt

2011-04-22T07:47:00.000-05:00

In the spirit of the Twitter Friday Follow, the Book Blogger Hop is a place just for book bloggers and readers to connect and share our love of the written word! This weekly BOOK PARTY is an awesome opportunity for book bloggers to connect with other book lovers, make new friends, support each other, and generally just share our love of books! It will also give blog readers a chance to find other book blogs to read! Hosted by Crazy for Books.

This week's question:

"If you find a book you love, do you hunt down other books by the same author?"

Well, this seems like it should be a no-brainer. If you love one book by an author, chances are pretty good that you will also love their other books. I have read authors where the one book I read as a fluke, however. Anne Rice comes to mind. I read Interview with a Vampire and thought it was interesting. Then I read Feast of All Saints, one of her historical fiction books, and LOVED it. But when I tried to read the rest of the vampire and witch books I was so disappointed.

The only time that I have actively avoided a book by an author who's other book I loved was Audrey Niffenegger. The Time Traveler's Wife is one of my favorite books of all time, and when Her Fearful Symmetry came out I was afraid to read it. Not because it is about ghosts (though it is), but because I was so afraid that it couldn't be as good as TTW. I finally told myself to put my big girl pants on and give it a try. And I was right, it wasn't as good. But it was good, and had I persisted in my avoidance I would have missed out.

Top Ten Tuesday Rewind-My Favorite Authors

2011-04-18T12:39:00.001-05:00

This week's Top Ten, hosted by the gals at The Broke and the Bookish, is specially designed for those of us that occasionally miss a week of the action. It's rewind time-a time to go back and create a post on a past topic that you didn't participate in when it was first posted. After looking at the list of past topics for what felt like an inordinate amount of time, I rejected Favorite Best Fictional Couples and Best Villains, having posted on those for a different meme. I finally settled on Favorite Authors, since I've mentioned them a lot but I'm not sure if I've ever actually written a post devoted just to them. After each author I will list their books of theirs I have read and loved. So, in no particular order, may I present...

1. Toni Morrison-The Bluest Eye, Jazz, Song of Solomon, Beloved, Paradise, Love, A Mercy

2. Alice Walker-Temple of My Familiar, The Color Purple, Possessing the Secret of Joy, Warrior Marks

3. Octavia Butler-Fledgling, Mind of My Mind, Wild Seed, Patternmaster, Clay's Ark

4. Barbara Kingslover-Animal Dreams, The Bean Trees, Prodigal Summer, The Poisonwood Bible, Pigs in Heaven, The Lacuna

5. Chris Bohjalian-Midwives, The Double Bind, Before You Know Kindness, Transister Radio, Buffalo Soldier, The Law of Similars

6. Margaret Atwood-The Handmaid's Tale, The Robber Bride, Cat's Eye, Oryx and Crake, The Year of the Flood, Alias Grace, The Blind Assassin, Lady Oracle, Surfacing, Life Before Man

7. Stephen King-Carrie, Salem's Lot, The Shining, Dead Zone, The Stand, Firestarter, Cujo, Roadwork, The Dark Tower series, Christine, Pet Semetary, Cycle of the Werewolf, The Talisman, The Bachman Books, The Eye of the Dragon, Misery, Tommyknockers, The Dark Half, Needful Things, Gerald's Game, Dolores Claiborne, Insomnia, Rose Madder, The Green Mile, Desperation, Storm of the Century, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, Black House, From a Buick 8, Cell, Lisey's Story, Duma Key, Under the Dome, all of his short stories

8. Sheri S. Tepper-The Gate to Women's Country, Beauty, Gibbons Decline and Fall, The Visitor

9. Neil Gaiman-American Gods, Anansi Boys, Good Omens, Interworld (YA), Stardust, Neverwhere, The Graveyard Book (YA)

10. Roald Dahl-Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, James and the Giant Peach, Matilda, The BFG, The Witches

The Amazing Disappearing Blogger

2011-04-15T06:56:00.000-05:00

Imagine my surprise when I checked the date of my last post and discovered it was 15 DAYS AGO! What? Really? How did that happen? Surely it hasn't taken me two weeks to get through only 127 pages of The 19th Wife? I mean, I did start The Summoner, but I wasn't feeling it, so I only read about 50 pages then I put it down. Do you mean to tell me I have only read 200ish pages in TWO WEEKS?!? Quick, someone call the library for a book infusion-STAT!

Spring is always a fallow reading period for me. It is when things at work really amp up-I have yearly assessments to give and individualized educational plans to write and annual reviews to schedule. I have a youth service to plan at my church, and youth conferences to plan for next year. Then there are my wife's concerts and performances, all of which are in the next few weeks. Oh, and the term paper on the entire history of teaching and learning due in two weeks. Darn it-I hate when real life intrudes on my reading time! How can I escape all of the above stress if I'm too busy to read?

The Wife as Katisha from The Mikado

So, Constant Readers, I promise that as soon as I can untangle my life from all of the aforementioned craziness, I will be back on track for future blogging. And I will be doing my first ever blog tour and give away, for Karin Slaughter's new audiobook, Fallen. So while I may seem to have disappeared, I sincerely hope you won't!

Book Blogger Hop-April Fools

2011-04-01T09:52:00.002-05:00

The Book Blogger Hop, hosted by Jennifer at Crazy-for-Books, is a change for book bloggers of all stripes to get the word out about their blog. My hop post this week will be short and sweet...the question of the week is...

"Since today is April Fool's Day in the USA, what is the best prank you have ever played on someone OR that someone has played on you?"

My answer is short and sweet because I have never had an April Fool's joke played on my, nor have I ever played one on someone else. Well, unless you count the students at school who come in every April 1st and say "There's a bug in your hair! April fools!" or "Your shoe's untied! April fools! Of course, as a teacher I feel obligated to look down and laugh, but really April Fools Day in my world is one long string of "tricks" that are older than me (which, of course, the kids think they made up-adorable).

The Literary Blog Hop: To Like or Dislike the Hype

2011-03-31T09:24:00.000-05:00

The Literary Blog Hop is hosted by the brilliant bloggers at The Blue Bookcase. This week's question is:

Do you find yourself predisposed to like (or dislike) books that are generally accepted as great books and have been incorporated into the literary canon? Discuss the affect you believe a book’s “status” has on your opinion of it.

I think that my feelings on this topic have changed over time. When I was in high school and college I was much more likely to assume that whatever classic literature they were asking us to read must be of great value, because otherwise why would we be asked to read it. So I searched for nuggets even in things I hated, like The Scarlet Letter or The Old Man and the Sea. But as I've gotten older, and I've learned more about the history of teaching reading and literature in our schools, I've come to realize the many, many, many voices that were never heard. Women, people of color, gays and lesbians-all, with the notable exceptions of the Brontes and Jane Austen, were either left out of the literary conversation all together or had their stories told by others (most often not very authentically). So, as the years have gone on, I've been less likely to read something that is strictly from the cannon and choose other, more diverse voices instead. I suppose if I'm not careful I'll swing too far the other way, but for now I'm content to stay away from some of the capital A authors in favor of looking at life through the eyes of a more diverse group of small a authors.

Capital A Authors:

Small a authors:

The Weird Sisters, Eleanor Brown

2011-03-30T17:58:00.000-05:00

I've found myself suing the words, "I was listening to NPR..." more and more lately. Maybe it's a function of my advancing age, or just that I refuse to watch television news, but I've got my radio tuned more and more to NPR regardless of when I am in the car. I always listened to the headlines on my way to and from work, but lately I've found myself tuning in at odd time when they are talking about Kenyan tribal music, or why Americans may soon be eating only genetically engineered bananas, or some such. One of the things that I discovered recently was the book The Weird Sisters, by Eleanor Brown. I heard an interview with the author, in which she described her process for writing the novel, as well as some of the themes that she was trying to address.

The Weird Sisters is the story of three sister (duh)-Rosalind, Bianca, and Cordelia. Their father is a Shakespearean scholar, who communicates with them mostly through quotations direct from the Bard. They all make their way back to their childhood home when their mother is diagnosed with breast cancer, though that is not the real reason any of them makes the journey. Rosalind, an academic like her father, has always lived nearby, but comes to live at home after her fiance takes a fellowship at Oxford. Bianca, the middle sister, loads up her beater and drives home from New York, where she unsuccessfully tried to live the city life on a secretary's income. Cordelia, the youngest, finds her way home after years of traveling around the country at a whim, drifting here and there in what's left of the counterculture. To say that the three sisters have a complicated relationship with each other is rather an understatement. They each fulfill the stereotypical role of the oldest, middle, and youngest child. While they obviously care deeply for each other, they don't appear to like each other, which is actually the tagline on the book jacket.

I found this book to be very much in line with what we are calling women's fiction. The characters are all searching in their own way for connection-with each other, with their parents, with the various men in their lives. What makes this book different than the others is the tie in with Shakespeare. I don't know if it actually is more literary, or just seems that way because of the frequent mentions of the Bard, but it feels like there is a little more meat in this story than in some women's fiction.

But here's my problem-not only do the sisters not really like each other, but I found myself not really liking them that much. They were all flawed, which I realize was the point. They were all failures, which I realize was the point. But I kept finding myself wanting to tell them, "Grow up and talk to each other!" or "Get over yourselves and move on with your life!" or "Stop whining-move to England already!" Despite not really liking them much, I did find myself caring what happened to them. And Brown did a good job of not falling into the easy traps. None of them have the perfect resolution to their issues, though all of them found some happiness and satisfaction. Overall, this is a perfectly pleasant read, but without any real profundity.

Life in the Rooster Coop

2011-03-27T14:56:00.000-05:00

I have openly admitted my Goodreads bookswap addicition. While they say admitting you have a problem is the first step in recovery, I can't seem to take step number two. At any rate, I was browsing one day when I came upon The White Tiger, by Aravind Adiga. I've recently grown more interested in south Asian literature, and this one sounded interesting. I made my request and eagerly awaited its arrival. Well it arrived alright-in CD form. Apparently in my mindless bookswapping high I had requested an audiobook. Arrggghhh...I am not a fan. I realize that many people love the audiobook, but to me it feels like cheating. Like if someone asked me, "Have you read The White Tiger?", I would be lying if I said yes. But, with a couple of long drives coming up, I decided to get over myself and listen to it in the car. Lucky for me I did, because The White Tiger is one of those rare titles that shows life exactly how it is, with all of its warts and ugliness exposed, and still manages to make it into something beautiful.

The White Tiger is the story of Balram Halway, a rickshaw driver's son from "the darkness"-the small, poor, rural villages in the north of India. He manages to escape his own small village by becoming a driver for a wealthy family in Delhi. Balram is constantly aware of the wide gulf separating him from his wealthy employers, despite the mere inches of space that separates them in the car. Through letters to the Premier of China, who is slated to come to India for a visit, Balram shares his life story, as well as his thoughts in class, caste, Eastern vs. Western values, and entrepreneurship. Balram believes that the poor in India are caged in a rooster coop, and that every time one of the roosters tries to break free, he is pushed back in by the masters, even as the other roosters try to peck him to death.

Balram is the perfect narrator for this tale. Smart, though uneducated, he brings to life the inequities that continue to exist in modern Indian society. We watch as he becomes more and more dissatisfied with his lot in life. As a child he seemed to believe the lie that the poor are told-that they are not as smart/talented/good as the rich, and that they should not seek to rise above their predetermined station. But as he spends time with his wealthy employers, he begins to see the petty, ruthless way in which they treat the poor as something ugly and unfair. While he starts out admiring his master, Ashok, he comes to despise him for having the same weaknesses and flaws that plague all humans. As his rage grows, he is led to dramatic action-an action that will change not just his life, but the lives of his entire family.

Adiga's portrayal of Balram, his employers, and the dual nature of Indian culture could be a metaphor for just about any family or society. One the one hand, India at the beginning of the 21st century is a place of corporate offices, call centers, luxury apartments, and glittering shopping malls. But leave the walled compounds of the rich and successful behind, and you enter the India of the slums. Dirty, full of people scraping whatever living they can out of the underbelly of the city-a place where dreams and hope go to die. Beggars living on the streets, entire families living in tents beside rivers of sewage. At times Adiga's descriptions of the living conditions literally make you hold your breath to hold off the stench that you can imagine must exist in these poor neighborhoods. What Balram calls "entrepreneurship" seems to me to describe not a knack for business, but a knack for survival, a knack for finding a way to be a "man" in a society that wants you to remain an animal. As Balram says, for 10,000 years the rich and the poor have been at war, each trying to bring down the other. If only all poor Indians had the "entrepreneurial" spirit, they could smash the rooster coop. But Balram doesn't really believe that this is possible. Only once in a generation will someone (a white tiger) be born that has the ability and strength to break free.

Book Blogger Hop-Where To?

2011-03-25T06:56:00.000-05:00

The Book Blogger Hope is a weekly meme hosted by Jennifer at Crazy-for-Books. Here is some information about the hope right from the horse's mouth:

In the spirit of the Twitter Friday Follow, the Book Blogger Hop is a place just for book bloggers and readers to connect and share our love of the written word! This weekly BOOK PARTY is an awesome opportunity for book bloggers to connect with other book lovers, make new friends, support each other, and generally just share our love of books! It will also give blog readers a chance to find other book blogs to read!

This week the Hop asks us to consider what book or series we would physically put ourselves into if we could. My first thought was Into Thin Air, by Jon Krakauer, because I have always wanted to see the top of the world, but only if I don't actually have to be cold or anything (one of the many reasons I will never see the top of the world-I'm a wimp!)

So next I thought about all those books that I love that take place in England, because that is a place that I desperately want to visit that I might actually get to some day. But then I realized how many of them have a time period that is not conducive to women's rights, or, you know, basic hygiene. Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley is the one I feel most strongly about, but only if I can be one of the priestesses and living in Avalon.

After some consideration, I think that my final answer of the moment is to visit the world of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, though preferably after the great "defeat Sauron/Destroy the ring" thing. Though before the elves leave-that is one of my motivating factors, to meet me some elves. After that I can build myself a normal size house at the edge of Hobbiton and live peacefully with the Hobbits in the shire. Yep, days of quiet contemplation in an idyllic spot sound like exactly what I need today.

The Violets of March, Sarah Jio

2011-03-23T06:00:00.001-05:00

One of the recurring themes in literature is the way that the past can come back to haunt us. Things that happened long ago can reverberate through our lives and our families until they touch us, without us even knowing. Secrets long held can be devastating when revealed-or they can lead to redemption, closure, and the ability to move forward in life. All of these ideas are explored in The Violets of March, a novel by Sarah Jio coming out in April.

Emily Watson thought she had it all. A best selling book, a handsome husband, a glamorous life in New York. Then the writer's block set in, her husband had an affair, and her fabulous social life dwindled as her fame fell. Ten years later, on the day her divorce becomes final, she accepts an invitation from her Aunt Bee to visit her on Bainbridge Island, where Emily spent many happy summers as a child. There, Emily reconnects with an old boyfriend, Greg, and meets Jack, who her aunt warns her away from. She also find a red velvet diary, and gets drawn into a tragic mystery that happened fifty years earlier. She soon comes to believe that the diary is connected to her in some way, and that she was fated to find it and bring her family's secrets out into the light at last.

I love books about islands. I have always wanted to live on an island-to be that close to the sea, to be a part of a close knit community just seems idyllic to me. I was immediately drawn by Jio's description of the island, and the way that the sea matched what was happening in the story at the time. I was also immediately drawn in by the mystery. Whose diary had Emily found? Why was her aunt so tight-lipped about it? And why was she supposed to stay away from the gorgeous and interesting Jack? Emily finds that she cannot complete her own healing process, or move forward in her own life, until she uncovers the mystery around the women in her family. She also finds that she cannot go back to her old life in New York with thoughts of Jack in her head. The Violets of March is an imminently readable, thoroughly enjoyable book about love, family, and moving foward.

(Thank you to Penguin Group USA for the free review copy)

Top Ten Tuesday: Bookish Pet Peeves

2011-03-21T22:07:00.000-05:00

This week's Top Ten, hosted by the lovely bloggers at The Broke and the Bookish, is your bookish pet peeves. And I know that every reader has them. Reading is a very personal experience. While some of us can read anywhere, others need the environment to be just right. While some of us don't mind a crumpled, marked up old paperback copy of some book we've always wanted to read, others need clean copies. Not to mention the actual literary pet peeves that readers have (see my post on stream-of-consciousness writing). So, what are some of my pet peeves? I've only got seven, but I feel them strongly!

1. Being asked what I'm reading-There is nothing that bothers me more than sitting somewhere reading, like in a hotel lobby waiting for a conference to start, and having someone I don't know or barely know ask me what I'm reading. Partly I'm annoyed at the interruption, but mostly I'm uncomfortable because I don't know what to say. Is this person a reader? Will they know the book or author just from the title? Do they want a synopsis? If I give them a synopsis, will they be annoyed because they were just asking to be polite? Yep, hate this when it happens.

2. Reading snobbery-there are very few things that annoy me more than snobbery in general, but I have lately become very sensitive to book snobbery. People who read literary fiction looking down on people who enjoy genre fiction, non-fiction readers looking down on fiction readers-I saw an analogy from another book blogger not long ago (sorry I don't remember which one-either the Ape or The Literate Man, I think), that your reading diet should be like your food diet-balanced. Eat what you like, just try to make sure that you eat more "good" than "bad". And there is good in every genre (even romance, I'm sure-OK, so I'm not completely immune to book bias).

3. Overuse of adjective, metaphor, and simile-Anne Rice, I'm talking to you! I don't need 12 pages of description to know that it is hot, humid, and sultry in New Orleans. Look, I said it in three words! Really, I had the idea by page two.

4. Books written from movies-Do I really need to explain this?

5. Mass-market Paperbacks-It's not so much the print as the binding. I hate having to hold the book open all the time. Makes it much more difficult to snack and read! I realize that this would be solved with a Kindle, but with over 400 books in my house I have not yet read, I just can't justify the expense.

6. I'm not bored, I'm reading!-Do you ever visit friends or family, and sit down to relax with your book, only to have them immediately suggest an outing, since you must be "bored"? Maybe you are lucky enough to only visit other readers, but this has happened to me more than once.

7. Chapters that start with long poems or song lyrics-Not gonna lie, I generally skip them. I know they're supposed to add to the meaning of the story and all, but I'm impatient...

The Road, Cormac McCarthy

2011-03-21T06:00:00.001-05:00

The Road is one of those books that I knew I should get around to, but just never seemed to make its way into my reading rotation. I knew that it was post-apocalyptic, which I enjoy. I knew that McCarthy is a well-respected author, for good reason. I was waiting to watch the movie until I read the book, and even that wasn't enough of a push. Well, I finally got around to it, and now I know why I resisted. I knew that the story was depressing as hell and it would suck me into its dark, ash-filled, cannibalistic world like a black hole sucks in light.

The story centers around a man and his son, wandering a world that is utterly dead. While this is obviously because of some man-made disaster, we never really learn what. The man and his son have been wandering and scavenging for years, sometimes going days without finding anything to eat. There are no animals, nothing grows-the earth is filled with ash and smoke and burned out cities. They often have to hide from gangs of cannibals, looking for other survivors to hold captive and use as food. Despite the apparent hopelessness of the situation, the man and his son keep traveling along the road, not really believing that things might be better on the coast, but unable to bow to the seeming inevitability of death.

Here's the thing-despite the fact that at least once I was contemplating suicide on the characters' behalf, I loved this book. The writing is genius. I've never read any of McCarthy's books before, but if all of them have the same ability to convey with just a few words the enormity of life and love and death then I'll read them all. I'm always in awe of authors who can choose exactly the right words to create a vivid picture for the reader-no more and no less. Being rather verbose myself, I admire this ability. I also admire the imagination that can come up with this kind of skewed reality in the first place. Though it makes me wonder what kind of dark place McCarthy's mind is.

My one complaint-the ending. Not that it is left completely open-ended. I get that as a metaphor for life in general, and that as long as there is life the story is never over, everything is uncertain except for the passage of time, etc..In fact, my complaint is that the story should have ended about 10 pages sooner than it did, with the boy completely alone. Now THAT would have been a head-scratcher, real food for thought, a book group discussion starter. Despite my feeling that he caved a little bit at the end, overall I am deeply affected by this book, and find myself thinking about it off and on in the days since I finished it. What more can a book have to recommend it than that?

The Winter Ghosts, Kate Mosse

2011-03-20T08:01:00.000-05:00

Freddie Watson is a man stuck in time. World War I, The Great War, the War to End All Wars, may have ended 10 years ago, but he is still grieving the loss of his brother, George, on the battlefield in France. After being hospitalized for severe depression, Freddie still sees and hears his brother all the time. Thinking a change in location might help, he is driving through the Pyrenees one night when a freak snowstorm forces him off the road. He finds a small village hidden in the hills, where he finds a small guest house to take him in. That night, he travels to a village feast and meets Fabrissa, a beautiful young woman with whom Freddie is instantly entranced. The next day, when he tries to find her again, everyone in the village acts as though the feast, and Fabrissa, are imaginary. Who was this woman? Where was she? When was she? Freddie finds peace and redemption in this intriguing ghost story.

Mosse does an excellent job of setting the stage for the events in this book. The sense of place is very strong. I felt the wind and the snow, I could picture vividly the small village, the woods, the cave. Freddie himself is a well-developed character, Fabrissa less so...but then, the story isn't really about Fabrissa. It is about acknowledging what has been lost, recognizing the injustice of death, and then moving forward. Fabrissa and the others couldn't move forward until someone knew what had happened to them, and by leading the world to discover the cave where she died, Freddie finds his own peace as well. This slim volume is an easy, enjoyable read.

From Dead to Worse, Charlaine Harris

2011-03-11T10:27:00.000-06:00

One of my guilty pleasures is a love of all things Sookie. While the TV show based on the book, TrueBlood, and the books have diverged pretty widely at this point, I figure that just gives me twice as much Sookie Stackhouse to love. There is something very comforting about the predictability of the stories. Sookie will be in mortal danger. Some supernatural man (or woman, in the case of her fairy godmother) will have to help save her. At least one supernatural man will be in love with her. Chances are there will be some impediment to their love. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

So, here is my short summary of From Dead to Worse, book number eight in Charlaine Harris's Sookie Stackhouse series...missing weretiger, vampire takeover, fairy great-grandfather, werewolf war, revenge, werepanther justice, Eric remembers everything, Bill still pines...if you have read the Sookie Stackhouse books, you know what all of this means. If you haven't, and you are interested and or intrigued by what it all could mean, go back to the beginning and start with Dead Until Dark, the first book in the series, and prepare to lose yourself in a funny, scary, surprising, completely unrealistic world that will provide the perfect escapism.

Top Ten Tuesday: Holy Duos, Batman!

2011-03-08T09:10:00.000-06:00

This week's Top Ten Tuesday topic at The Broke and the Bookish is Top Ten Fictional Duos. I'm guess that we will see a lot of Holmes and Watson and Potter/Granger/Weasley on this week's entries, so I am going to try and skip the more obvious...well, except for...

1. Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee, LOTR-I can't NOT mention this duo. Because honestly, if I needed a friend to support me on some life-threatening quest filled with danger, Orcs, and mind and soul-killing drudgery, I'd want Sam...

2. Alex Delaware and Milo Sturgis, Alex Delaware series-If you are not a fan of psychological mysteries, you may have missed out on these two. But in Alex and Milo, Jonathan Kellerman created a duo that complements each other perfectly, and that basically defines the phrase "opposites attract".

3. Pete and Rina Decker, The Decker/Lazarus series-The song "Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better" must have been playing in the Kellerman household. Faye Kellerman, wife of the aforementioned Jonathan Kellerman and mystery writer, created another unique, complementary duo. Peter Decker meets and fall in love with orthodox Jew Rina Lazarus, and thus starts a series of books that examine what it means to live a religious life and be a cop-oh, while solving really interesting mysteries along the way.

4. Lenny and George, Of Mice and Men-OK, so it ends all tragic and stuff, but if there was ever a pair that loved and cared for each other, it was George and Lenny.

5. Henry and Claire, The Time Traveler's Wife-I love this book so much I am going to make every effort to include it in as many Top Tens as I can. Some weeks that will likely be a stretch, but this week it actually fits!

6. Celie and Shug Avery, The Color Purple-Though Shug ended up being too flighty to be much of a partner to Celie, if it weren't for her Celie never would have had the nerve to leave Mr.

7. Temperance Brennan and Andrew Ryan, from Kathy Reichs-While I like the show Bones, it really doesn't do justice to the mystery/thrillers by Kathy Reichs. In her novels, Tempe is not nearly so socially awkward, and her on-again-off-again romance with Andrew Ryan is engaging.

8. Jekyl and Hyde-I know, I know, technically the same person...but come on, don't you think that Jekyl would be boring and stodgy without Hyde to spice things up?

9. Katniss and Peeta, The Hunger Games-There is no way that either of them would have made it out of the first Hunger Games if they didn't have each other-even if some of it was just for show. Rocky relationships are often the stuff of great fiction, after all.

10. Frog and Toad-OK, this is here mostly because I couldn't think of a tenth entry that I didn't get from looking at someone else's blog, but hey...they are friends despite their differences (I mean, a frog and a toad being friends-who'd have thought we'd see the day!?!)

Cross-Blog Pollination

2011-03-06T18:38:00.000-06:00

While taking a childrens' and young adult literature class this summer, I decided to move most of my reviews of young adult books to a new blog, Second Childhood Reviews. Unlike many bloggers who focus on young adult books, mine is dirently aimed at teachers and parents who want to read high-quality literature with their students/children. That said, occasionally there will be a book that I think deserves a wider audience than my second blog, a book that has merit not just as a good read for young adults but as a good read for anyone. The Hunger Games trilogy is probably the best example of this.

In this case, it is not so much that I think that the book I am going to mention is such a great adult read (though I enjoyed it very much-it's laugh-out-loud funny in multiple spots), but that the message of the book is one that adults need to hear. The book is The Misfits, by James Howe. Howe wrote the very popular Bunnicula series-he also came out as a gay man in the early part of the new century. In The Misfits, and it's companion book Totally Joe, Howe highlights the problem of name-calling and bullying in middle school. While the theme itself may not be groundbreaking, his inclusion of an openly gay character is, especially in a book aimed at children aged 10 to 13. After researching queer themes in children's and young adult literature for a project for the above-mentioned children's/young adult lit class, I can tell you that while there are several good picture books for young children about families with same-sex parents, and there are more and more young adult novels for high schoolers on issues of sexual orientation, coming out, and first love with gay characters, there is almost nothing for students in the middle grades. So here I am, on my "grown-up" blog, strongly urging anyone who has, knows, works with, or cares about kids in the middle grades to read and share this book! And here is the link to my review of The Misfits, along with a list of online resources for teaching about the book.

Literary Blog Hop-How Seriously We Take Ourselves!

2011-03-03T06:51:00.000-06:00

Welcome Literary Blog Hoppers! The Literary Blog Hop is hosted every other week by The Blue Bookcase. If you're interested in participating, check out their very smart blog!

This week's question is "Can literature be funny? What's your favorite humorous literature?" While my answer is a resounding YES, which I will get to in a minute, I'm more curious at the moment about the question, because I think that at the heart of it lies the reason that many people are turned off by literary works and find the people who read and talk about them pretentious. Do we really take ourselves so seriously as a community that we have to ask whether it is OK to laugh at what we read? Must we be immersed in grave, serious subject matter all the time for it to be worthwhile? If one aspect of literary merit is the use of language, doesn't it take just as much skill to write a witty turn of phrase as a serious one? And if another aspect of literary merit is what the work says about the human condition, then sometimes laughing at ourselves is the best way to do that.

From the above mini-rant you can probably guess that I believe that literary works can be humorous. As for examples, let me start with William Shakespeare. Even in his tragedies he often had humorous characters. Then there is Pride and Prejudice and Emma, by literary darling Jane Austen. Mark Twain also used humor to his advantage, not just in his books but in the way he talked about his life and his writing. Considering that my definition of literary includes some genre fiction, I'd also include Douglas Addams of the Hitchhikers Guide series and Neil Gaiman examples of literary authors using humor. Roald Dahl is hilarious!

Lighten up, people!

Top Ten Tuesday: Must Haves, Just Not Must Reads

2011-03-01T06:53:00.000-06:00

This week's Top Ten Tuesday, hosted by the blogging team at The Broke and the Bookish, is asking me and my fellow bloggers to bust ourselves out about those books we just had to have, but that have been sittig on our shelves gathering dust ever since. Well, I can't possibly make a list, because that compulsion has never happened to me! I am frugal and circumspect in my book buying choices. I don't ever walk into a bookstore and come out with a few extra impulse buys, like they are so many candy bars at the check out stand! I never...

OK, who am I kidding? Of course I have succumbed to the temptation to pick up a book in a whim which then serves as a shelf decoration for some period of time. Sometimes I even pick up a book that I just can't wait to read, I need it NOW-except apparently I can wait to read it, because there it still sits, on my shelf. Anyone who loves books-not just stories, but the actual physical thing-has probably got at least a couple of these squirreled away. Please note that I WILL in fact read this books at some point, but with 350-400 books in my house I have yet to read I'm just not sure when I will read them! Here's my list of the 10 most wanted (but not read):

1. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, Jane Austen and Seth Graham Smith: I love the irreverence of this idea-to take a beloved work of classic fiction and create a mash-up with something so absurd as a zombie story. Can't tell you if I actually love the execution of it, because I still haven't read it.

2. Life Mask, Emma Donoghue: This is one of several titles that was on the long list for the Orange Prize for Fiction last year. I vowed to read as many of them as I could by the time the prize was announced in June. I bought about six of them-I read two. This wasn't one of them.

3. The Road, Cormac McCarthy: What's puzzling about this one is that I bought the book specifically so that I could read it before watching the movie. I'm still waiting to watch the movie because I haven't read the book. Seems stupid, no?

4. Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie: This book has been sitting on my shelf for at least two years. I've been telling myself ever since that whole fatwa business that I wanted to read it. It took 15 hears for me to even buy it. I kept putting it off last year because it is lengthy and I was trying to reach 100 books. What's my excuse now? Yeah, don't really have one...

5. You Don't Look Like Anyone I Know, Heather Sellers: First I read about this book on a blog, then I heard and interview with the author on NPR. It's a fascinating topic-face blindness. Imagine going through life not being able to recognize faces! Well, I'll have to keep imagining, because it's still warming the shelf.

6. Love, Toni Morrison: I don't just love Toni Morrison-I worship at the alter of her fabulosity. So why I've had this book on my shelf for literally years and have yet to read the slim volume is a mystery to me.

7. A Mercy, Toni Morrison: See above

8. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell, Susanna Clarke: This kind of fantasy story set as historical fiction sounded like and intriguing mix to me, so I bought it. Then it came, and it's HUGE. Not that I'm intimidated, mind you, but I am inpatient...I'll get to it, maybe this summer, when I can spend more time reading for me and less time reading for class.

9. The Bookseller of Kabul, Asne Seierstad: Unlike much of America, I knew well before 9-11 what was happening to women and girls in Afghanistan under the Taliban rule. That's what originally drew me to this book. Apparently it didn't draw me enough to actually read it, just enough to purchase it and let it have a place of honor on my to-be-read shelf for years.

10. Amazing Grace, Jonathan Kozol: Kozol's book Savage Inequalities complete changed the way I think about equity in public education, so when I saw his book about the effects of living in poverty on America's children I had to have it. Have it, mind, not read it...

Fighthing Fate in 18th Century Scotland

2011-02-27T08:23:00.000-06:00

Fate and inevitability play a large role in Diana Gabaldon's book Dragonfly in Amber. The second in a series about Claire Randall Fraser, a mid-20th century woman transported back to 18th century Scotland, Dragonfly in Amber picks up the story of Claire and her Sottish husband Jamie. Claire knows that Jamie and thousands of other Highland Scots are to be slaughtered in the Battle of Culloden, fought on behalf of Bonnie Prince Charlie in a failed attempt to restore the Stuarts to the throne of England and Scotland. She and Jamie race to try and stop the coming war, first in Paris where Prince Charles is waiting to return to Scotland, and again in Edinburgh. But nothing, not even the foreknowledge of what will happen, can turn the tide of history in the Scots' favor.

Like her first novel, Outlander, this book is rich in historical detail, and intricate in plot. In a previous post, I complained of how long it took me to read it, because that level of detail requires the reader to really slow down and take it all in. It is full of political machinations, betrayals, unkept promises, and the hubris of the nobility. Add to the complex plot the many details about life in 18th century France and Scotland, and the descriptions of the medical care that Claire gives in her role as a healer, and you have a fully formed world that draws you in. The romance between Claire and Jamie is besides the point to me, other than as a catalyst for some of Claire's decisions regarding staying in Scotland or trying to stop duels...Claire herself is the reason that I kept reading. And I am so grateful to Ms. Gabaldon that she set this series in a time period I know very little about. While I love my Tudor and Elizabethan period pieces, I am happy to have knowledge of another era of UK history.

Practicing What I Preach

2011-02-25T06:45:00.001-06:00

Reading instruction has come a long way from the days of Dick and Jane. Best practices say that when teaching students about reading you should teach them not just the skills needed to decode the words, or to have a basic understanding of a text. Teachers of reading all over the country are teaching their students to be strategic readers. We model meta-cognition (that is, thinking about what you are thinking), have students practice monitoring their comprehension, making connections, visualizing, questioning, and summarizing a text. We teach the features and structures of non-fiction, and how they differ from fiction. And we teach them that the purpose for reading determines how you should read something. Some texts require a slower rate and more strategic reading, some texts can be read faster without losing meaning.

So why is it that I can't practice what I preach? I am a pretty quick reader, as I'm sure many book bloggers are. I can whip through most YA and easy adult reads in a single day, more literary or longer works take me a week, max. But I am working on week number three of the book I am currently reading, and it is driving me crazy. Not the book, mind-that I'm enjoying very much. It's the amount of time it's taking me to read it.

The book is Dragonfly in Amber by Diana Gabaldon. In my defense it is over 700 pages long, with small font, so it's not as though it's an especially short book. But the real issue is that whole purpose for reading thing I mentioned above. Gabaldon's prose is dense with historical detail. And it's interesting historical detail, about a time period I don't know much about. Both of these facts mean that in order to fully comprehend the text, even as an adult, I need to SLOW DOWN. Darn it! How can I fly through this book and get to the next book if I have to SLOW DOWN?!

But what do I have against slowing down? I mean, it's not like I get paid by the book for the books I read. I have no deadlines for reading. The books that are waiting in my to-be-read bookcases (yes, bookcases, don't judge) will still be there. So where is this pressure coming from?

Here's what I've figured out-I have so much of my self-concept tied up in being a smart, fast reader, that slowing down feels like a character flaw. Do I know that this is irrational? Yes. Do I know that I should savor the titles that make me slow down? Yes. Can I seem to make myself do that? NO

I believe I have now identified what my New Year's Resolution should have been...

Top Ten Tuesday: Lights, Camera, Action!

2011-02-22T06:34:00.003-06:00

Welcome to Top Ten Tuesday! The award for Best Tuesday Meme Host goes to The Broke and the Bookish for hosting this weekly event that allows me to make lists-I love lists! In case you had not yet picked up on my very subtle movie references, this week's theme is best movie adaptations of books.

This may be the first week I can't come up with ten, because I generally prefer the book by a wide margin to the movie made from it. Often when I watch a movie and love it, then find out it was based on a book, I avoid the book so as to not ruin the movie for myself. I have no problem in the reverse-I know that the movie will never ruin the book! But I will do my level best, and if I can't make it to ten, well, it was an honor just to be nominated...

1. Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe-If you are a frequent reader of this blog, you know that this is one of my very favorite books, and that I have many fond childhood memories or it. So you'd think that I'd be destined to be disappointed in the movie version. But the director of that movie and I must have an awful lot in common, or perhaps have a Narnia-related psychic link, because everything in the 2005 movie looked and felt exactly as I had imagined. That has never happened to me before, and I suspect never will again, but it was magical.

2. The Prince of Tides: I've loved all of Pat Conroy's books. My favorite is probably Lords of Discipline, but I thought the movie version was only OK. I liked novel The Prince of Tides OK, but thought the movie was amazing-really emotionally powerful and raw. This is probably the first and only time I liked the movie better than the book.

3. Shutter Island: This Dennis Lehane book was just destined to make a really atmospheric, creepy movie. Even having read the book first, I was still caught up in the drama of the madness of Shutter Island. The cinematography on that movie is stunning, and really helps set the emotional tone.

4. The Lord of the Rings Cycle: I can't really choose just one of Peter Jackson's masterpieces to single out, since I think they were all amazing. When I read Tolkien's work, I was so appreciative of his skillful style and huge imagination, but while I appreciated the story I did not get as emotionally engaged or invested as I did watching the movie version. I think that Peter Jackson made Tolkien's work more accessible to people outside of literature or fantasy readers.

5. Brokeback Mountain-I realize that this may not technically count, since it is actually a short story, but too bad-I'm having enough trouble thinking of really good movie adaptations as it is. This is one of the few times that I saw the movie first and then read the original, but I was so moved by the story of Ennis and Jack that I wanted to revisit it in a way that allowed me to slow down and think about it. The fact that this was also a groundbreaking moment in gay cinema didn't hurt.

6. The Secret Life of Bees: I think it would have been difficult not to make a pretty decent movie out of this book. It is a pretty simple plot, and the theme is very accessible to most people. Add Dakota Fanning and Queen Latifah and you've got a winner!

I have no doubt that after reading everyone else's posts on this topic I'm going to be writing a lot of comments like "Oh, I wish I'd thought of ___________________", but six is the best I can do this week.

I Should Not Have Been Fearful of Her Fearful Symettry

2011-02-14T06:34:00.049-06:00

Her Fearful Symmetry is the second novel by author Audrey Niffenegger, author of the much admired The Time Traveler's Wife. As someone who read and loved, loved, triple loved TTTW, I was a little nervous picking up Her Fearful Symmetry. What if her second novel couldn't live up to the mind-bending, mind-blowing amazingness of the first? Well, I should have had more faith in Ms. Niffenegger (sorry, Audrey-maybe we could meet at Uncle Julio's for margaritas and I can make it up to you!). Her Fearful Symmetry, while a completely different sort of novel, is in fact pretty amazing itself.

Her Fearful Symmetry tells the story of two different sets of twins, and the people who love them. The first set, Elspeth and Edie, have not seen or spoken to each other in nearly 20 years. When Elspeth finds that she is dying of cancer, she leaves all of her possessions, including her flat in London, to Valentine and Julia, the twin daughters of her estranged sister. The only condition is that they have to live in the flat for one year to inherit anything. Little does Elspeth know when he makes that condition that she will be there with them. After her death she finds herself an insubstantial ghost in her flat, unable to leave. Valentine and Julia have their own issues. Julia is fiercely insistent that the girls stay together always, even though Valentine feels smothered by her sister's constant presence and yearns to break free. It is this desire that leads to a decision that changes everything, for everyone, living or dead.

It is fitting that a central feature of the novel is Highgate Cemetery in London, a rather famous Victorian era cemetery. There is much about this novel that reminds me of Victorian-era stories. Their fiction tended to be almost as cluttered as their mantelpieces and pianos. Lots of characters, lots of plot lines, lots of intrigue. The relationship between the twins borders on creepy, and you can feel Valentine's restlessness and claustrophobia quite clearly. Her relationship with her dead aunt's lover is also a little creepy, though he is frankly the most likeable character in the book. The big family secret that underlies a great deal of the book drives the story, making it a page turner. When the big reveal finally comes, I thought I had it all figured out-and I was wrong. I love that, when a book can surprise me. And then surprise me again with what happens in the aftermath of the truth. Valentine's fate is the very definition of cruel irony. All in all, this novel lives up to my very high expectations for Ms. Niffenegger's writing, if not being quite as engaging a story for me as her first, amazing novel.

Top Ten Tuesday-Characters I'd Name My Children After

2011-02-08T06:53:00.000-06:00

Thank you, lovely bloggers at The Broke and the Bookish, for hosting this weekly meme that allows me to indulge in my love of all things listy!

This week's prompt is a chance to give some character love. When my daughter was born in 1994, my then husband and I had a deal. If the baby was a girl, could name her, but if it was a boy, he could name him. We each, however, reserved veto power over the other's choices. And that is the reason my daughter Briana does not have a literary name-I was overruled on Elizabeth (Pride and Prejudice), Morgaine (Mists of Avalon) or Guinevere (also Mists-I was a bit obsessed at the time). It's probably a good thing in the last two cases that I was vetoed, but I was only 24, so I plead youth. Now, at the more "mature" age of 41, I've read a lot more, and have many more character to choose from!

1. Claire-This comes from both The Time Traveler's Wife and Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series. Both women are loyal, strong, and loving, which I think are good qualities to hope for in a child.

2. Henry-From the Time Traveler's Wife. Again, smart, loving, loyal...and we'll just leave the ultimately doomed thing behind.

3. Hermione-Ah, if only I lived in Britain or was British myself, I could get away with this one. Hermione is definitely the best of all of the Harry Potter characters. Ron is sweet and Harry is noble, but Hermione was the one who ensured that things got done so Harry would still be around to fight Voldemort.

4. Lisbeth-Ok, this is mostly because I thought the name was pretty long before I read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. But let's face it, Lisbeth can kick some serious butt, which is not a bad trait to have, at least metaphorically speaking.

5. Peter-The oldest brother of the Pevensie children from the Narnia series, Peter was brave and steadfast, unlike Edmund, the moody younger brother.

6. Lucy-Also from Narnia. Small but mighty, Lucy was all heart and loyalty. Susan may have been older, but I don't think she was wiser than little Lucy.

7. Alex-The Alex Delaware novels was one of the first mystery/thriller series I read, and I have always loved Alex's intelligence and compassion. Plus he was completely accepting of his gay friend and police officer Milo way back before most authors were comfortable having gay characters in their books.

8. August-I loved August Boatwright's character from The Secret Life of Bees. Comfort-everything about her brings comfort and strength.

9. Sam-After Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings books. Best.Friend.Ever.

10. Stargirl-OK, I probably would never actually have the nerve to do such a thing, but the main character of Stargirl and Love, Stargirl is everything I want my daughter to be. Loving, idealistic, quirky, and completely comfortable with herself.

Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card

2011-02-07T06:26:00.000-06:00

What would you do to ensure the survival of the human race? What would you sacrifice? Your money? Your freedom? Your life? Most of us probably would if we were up against it. But what about the lives of our children? What if the survival of the species meant giving up your children to violence, war, and possible death?

It is exactly this rather sticky ethical question that Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card, takes on. Well, that and a few others, like the morality of xenocide and government manipulation. That's a lot for what is essentially a young adult novel, but Card manages it by creating a version of Earth that is both alien and somehow familiar.

Ender's Game is the story of Ender Wiggins, a genius among geniuses. Bred specifically for intelligence and cunning, Ender is the last, best hope for humanity in their war against the buggers, and alien race that attacked the Earth not once, but twice, in an attempt to colonize it. Sounds like the basic plot of just about any science fiction novel. The twist? Ender is only six years old. He is taken from his family and sent to Battle School, where he learns to fight in mock battles with other cadets. But the real plan for Ender involves him learning to be very good at the game that the military has devised to develop his skills as a strategist. At the age of 10 he is sent to Command School, where he trains with the person who defeated the buggers during the last invasion. As the games become more challenging and Ender begins to collapse under the weight of everyone's expectations, the military's manipulation of him leads to devastating consequences-for the fleet, for the buggers, and ultimately for Ender.

Card's writing in Ender's Game is almost clinical, but that just adds to the "otherness" feeling that you get from the characters. Ender and his siblings-both of whom washed out of the Battle School program-are just as brilliant as he is. Peter, his older brother, washed out for being a ruthless little sociopath whose tendency towards violence and power was not tempered by empathy. Valentine, his sister, washed out for the opposite reason-too much empathy, not enough ruthlessness. The military hopes it is Ender who will present the perfect blend of these two traits-calculating and violent enough to lead a war, but empathetic enough not to kill unnecessarily. And while you feel sorry for Ender, he is certainly not perfect. He is violent, and emotionally distant, and ruthless when provoked. But how much can be blamed on a child, when from birth he was trained for war.

Given the fact that there are children all over Africa and Asia being conscripted as soldiers and made to fight right now, the premise feels more possible than a science fiction novel often does. Ender does his job, and he does it well-but there is a price. I will admit to being surprised to find that the final "games" were real battles. I guess since I knew there were sequels I assumed the war continued. Despite being manipulated into xenocide, Ender feels crushing guilt. While an argument can be made that it wasn't his "fault", it doesn't begin to assuage the remorse he feels for that and so many other things that were kept from him during his time at the school. And after losing his family and never being allowed to have real friends, he loses his home. Concerned that he will be used by the various governments to defeat the other governments, he is forbidden ever to return to Earth. And so the rest of the world blithely goes on with their politics-and Ender pays the price.

Literary Blog Hop-Wish You Were Here

2011-02-04T09:03:00.000-06:00

It's that time again! The Literary Blog Hop is a hop designed for book bloggers who read and review primarily literary fiction hosted by the lovely bloggers at The Blue Bookcase.
This week's prompt was a real challenge for me...

Robyn asks: What setting (time or place) from a book or story would you most like to visit? Eudora Welty said that, "Being shown how to locate, to place, any account is what does most toward making us believe it...," so in what location would you most like to hang out?

Ok, so this presents a couple of conundrums for me. First of all, I've read A LOT of books in my time, as I'm sure most of you have as well. I'm pretty sure that I've read a novel that takes place on just about every continent and in most climate regions of the world, making it hard to narrow down. Really, I could pick just about anywhere and I could probably find a book I've read that takes place there.

Second, unlike some of you I do read some genre fiction, fantasy and science fiction specifically. So, does my place have to be real? I mean, would choosing Narnia be totally cheating because it doesn't really exist? (Because if I was going to choose a fictional place, it would definitely be Narnia. Come on, talking animals? Fugedaboudit!)

Finally, there is the time factor. I mean, sometimes a place would only be interesting if you were there for the historical events that surrounded it. I mean, most Civil War battlefields are only flat spaces covered with grass now. I could visit them, but what would I see?

So, how to answer the question? Funnily enough, the place I have chosen is from a fantasy novel that has a historical context, and there is some question of how much of that historical context was reality rather than fiction. And that place is....drumroll...Cornwall in England.

Cornwall is the supposed site of King Arthur's reign, and there is a group in North Cornwall that believes they have identified Arthur's castle and Merlin's Cave near Tintagel. This area is the setting for Marion Zimmer Bradley's Mists of Avalon, which is my favorite re-telling of the Arthurian legend. With it's strong feminist focus and themes of the Christianization of the old world and fate vs. free will, it made quite an impression on me as a high schooler. I've read it several times since then, and every time I want to jump on a plane to England and visit all of the places mentioned. Tintagel, the Tor, the rugged coast, the woods where the Horned God and the Goddess met and renewed the world...all magical. The fact that I am a bit of an Anglophile doesn't hurt. If I ever make it to England, Cornwall will be but one of many places I want to visit. But there are actually tours designed to take you to the sacred sites of the ancient world in the UK, and as nerdy as I feel being excited about that, if I ever get over there I'm signin' up!

Tintagel Castle, possible site of Camelot

Glastonbury Tor, also prominent in the legend

Top Ten Tuesday: Best Debut Novels

2011-01-31T14:41:00.001-06:00

Welcome to another edition of Top Ten Tuesday, hosted by the brilliant bloggers at The Broke and the Bookish. This week's topic is "Best Debut Novels". Having a good debut is a tricky thing. It can be sort of like a one-hit-wonder phenomenon, or getting the "Best New Artist" award at the Grammy Awards*. Sometimes the person goes on to have a long, illustrious career (Alicia Keys), and sometimes they don't (anyone else remember Arrested Development?). I decided for the sake of my list that even if it was the only book that the author wrote, it counted as a debut novel.

*On an unrelated note, while researching the metaphor abovc, I discovered that Bob Newhart won the Best-New-Artist Grammy at the 1961 Grammys. I'd love to know how that happened!

1. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee-I don't really need to explain this one, do I?

2. Carrie, by Stephen King-OK, so I sometimes get confused with the timeline for the books written as him and the books written as Richard Bachman, but this is the first novel that was published as him, so I'm going with it. Carrie was such a sympathetic character that you actually found yourself rooting for her to use her powers and destroy all of those horrible people. Kind of set me up to be a Dexter fan, I guess...

3. A Time to Kill, John Grisham-I've read many Grisham books, but none that had the impact (or originality) of A Time to Kill. Apparently he should have just stopped while he was ahead. While I enjoyed most of his books, he fell into the "Steele" trap-named after Danielle Steele, mistress of using one plot over and over again by changing the names and settings.

4. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, J.K. Rowling-Again, I think this is fairly self-explanatory, but This novel was so charming and engaging that for a while I knew way more adults who had read it than children.

5. The Time Traveler's Wife, Audrey Niffenegger-I loved this book so much that I was actually afraid to read her next book for fear that it wouldn't live up to the awesomeness that is TTW. I'm reading Her Fearful Symmetry right now, and I while I am not quite as caught up in it as I was the love story between Claire and Henry, it is not disappointing me so far.

6. The Kite Runner, Khaled Hoseini-I think that this, and A Thousand Splendid Suns, are two of the absolute best books of the new century. Hoseini's writing is a revelation, and the stories are so compelling I don't know how anyone could fail to be engaged and moved.

7. The Help, Katherine Stockett-Stockett couldn't have asked for a better reception to her first novel. It's been on several "best books for book clubs" lists, not to mention about every blog I've ever read. It deserves all of that attention. I don't remember a book, other than maybe The Secret Life of Bees, that does such a good job spotlighting the effects of racism and oppression on women in the south.

8. Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger-I heard an interview on NPR this weekend with Pat Conroy talking about an English teacher he had in high school in 1961 who had to fight the school board to get permission to teach this book, and it reminded me all over again how powerful it really is.

9. The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien-While the Lord of the Rings trilogy might be considered his masterwork, this first novel is so much more accessible, and really helped my fantasy loving teen-age self committed to getting through the other books, despite how dense they sometimes were.

10. The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison-While not my favorite of her books, or her best, as a first book this title is pretty remarkable.

Caught, by Harlan Coben

2011-01-27T06:56:00.000-06:00

For a while in my 30s, I pretty much read nothing but mysteries and thrillers. This was in no small part due to the fact that that's wheat my mother was reading, and if you've ever read my blog you know that she was the supplier for my reading addiction when I was too poor to supply myself. As a result of this rather narrow range of reading options, I have a mystery/thriller formula pretty much sewn up in all its various permutations. Private detective stories, average guy stumbles onto a mystery stories, forensic anthroplogist/forensic scientist stories, psychiatrist-as-detective stories-chances are that if there is a kind of mystery out there I have read it. While I still enjoy reading them, they rarely surprise me too much. Usually I've figured out what's happening long before the characters, so it's a treat to find a story where I am truly surprised. Lucky for me, I read Caught, by Harlan Coben.

Caught follows several characters, but the protagonist is Wendy Tynes, a tabloid TV reporter who works for a "To Catch a Predator" kind of show. After airing an episode that destroys a local do-gooder, Wendy starts to question whether she was used to set him up. She starts investigating, and finds out that nothing is really as it seems. (of course, when is it ever in a mystery?)

My favorites of Coben's books are his Myron Bolitar books, and this one makes a passing reference to some of the characters from that series. Win, Bolitar's amoral best friend, plays a minor role in the resolution of the story. It was kind of fun having them there, though it did make me wish for a new book in that series. It felt a little bit like teasing a little kid with a candy bar and then only giving them one little square. But I thought that the story was well-paced, and I couldn't put it down. I was also interested in the way that Coben portrayed the show about sexual predators. I've always had a problem with that kind of "gotcha", and this situation gave me some interesting insight. Overall I recommend this book for the mystery lovers out there.

Top Ten Tuesday: Children's Books I DID Read

2011-01-25T10:13:00.000-06:00

Thanks to the women at The Broke and the Bookish for hosting Top Ten Tuesdays. Being a list-lover as I am, I am always excited for a new topic.

Excited, that is, until this week. This week's topic is "books I wish I had read as a child", and the happy fact is that I can't think of one. I've read most of the children's classics, and plenty more besides. I even tried looking at other people's list to see if maybe I was just blocking out titles that I felt ashamed to say I'd never read, but nope...I'm actually thrilled as can be with my childhood reading selections.

But I love lists! What's a list-loving book blogger to do? Why, chan...er....modify the topic slightly, of course. So here, rather than book I wish I had read as a kid, I will revisit a past topic I did not get to participate in-my favorite childhood books. There were so many I'm going to have a hard time narrowing it down to just ten.

Bridge to Terebithia, Katherine Paterson-I love this story of Jess and Leslie and their unlikely friendship. This is also the first time I understood that children can die. I can't read this aloud to my classes today because I sill cry every time.

Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret, Judy Blume-I'm pretty sure that there are women about my age all over the country who would choose this coming of age story as one of their favorites. I was so disappointed to read Blume's adult works later in life. They just didn't hold a candle to her young adult books.

Island of the Blue Dolphins, Scott O'Dell-This was my introduction to strong female characters. I so admires Karana and her ability to keep herself alive, and never to lose hope. Plus, I've sort of always wanted to live on an island, though preferably not alone in a hut.

When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit, Judith Kerr-This may have been the first book I read about the Holocaust, and it started a life-long interest in the subject. The thought that your whole life could be stolen away from you in the blink of an eye was frightening, and as I got older I appreciated how Kerr used Anna's story to introduce young readers to the idea of oppression.

Jacob, Have I Loved, Katherine Paterson-I so identified with Louise in this book. As a quiet kid who was pretty shy, I often felt misunderstood by my peers and I understood her jealousy of the ease with which her sister lived in the world.. Louise was another strong female character that I adored.

The Narnia series, C.S. Lewis-My first fantasy series, but certainly not my last. I had the rare and intense pleasure of watching the first book, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe turned into the story into a movie that was EXACTLY like I had imagined reading it all those years ago.

Across Five Aprils, Irene Hunt-I've always been a fan of historical fiction, and this is probably one of the first ones I read. It was unusual for me to find strong connections with male characters when I was a girl, but I did with this one.

The Secret Garden, Francis Hodgson Burnett-Oh, how I cried when Colin stood up and walked to his father for the first time. And as hateful as Mary can be, you can't help but feel sorry for the poor orphan living in that cold, looming house.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betsy Smith-Francie was one of my favorite characters growing up, and I still reread this one every few years. Historical fiction meets coming of age story-two of my favorite things all rolled into one.

Rutabaga Stories, Carl Sandburg-I checked this book out of the school library so many times the librarian offered to get me my own copy. A collection of humorous short stories, Sandberg's gift for language and down-home sort of humor was a hit with me.

The Cay, Theodore Taylor-When my teacher read this aloud to us in fifth grade, I was captivated. Living in an all white suburb of Chicago in the 70s, I had never really had any exposure to issues of race or racism. This book opened my eyes to the absurdity of separating ourselves from each other on the basis of the melanin content of our skin.

A Summer to Die, Lois Lowry-Like many a pre-teen, I was a bit of a tragedy junkie. This book by Lois Lowry fit the bill. The story of a young girl whose sister gets cancer and dies is still a tearjerker.

Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, Mildred Taylor-Taylor's writing is a masterpiece of historical fiction and character development. While The Cay may have been my first exposure to racism, Taylor's works certainly helped me put what I learned into a historical perspective.