by Sandra Cisneros
People tend to think that if a book features a youthful protagonist that is meant to be read by children. It is true that teens and kids like to read books with an age-appropriate hero. It is easier to connect to a protagonist when you've lived through that time of life. However, when it comes to books with child protagonists that are not picture books, it often turns out that there is a level that kids just can't access. There is something sad about being a child that children don't perceive. All those things missed through lack of experience. All those fights and all those opportunities. Being afraid of the ghost in the corner that is really a shadow that looks like a ghost or is it a ghost that looks like a shadow. Experience in life both protects us and steals those magical moments.
The House on Mango Street is one of those books that has seeped into the holy "High School Canon of Approved Literature For the Youth of America." It seems to get shoehorned into the American Literature curriculum as an example of Latin-American Literature. If you sense, dear reader, my dripping sarcasm, know that it is not aimed at the novel. Rather it is aimed at the "Administrative Powers-That-Be." If you are a teacher, there are a multitude of rules about what you cannot say and the material you cannot cover. Censorship has won in America, at least as far as the schools are considered. Sex is scary. Drugs don't really exist, at least if you say it loud enough they don't. Nothing truly bad happens to children. Ever. As a teacher, adding new and fresh novels to the curriculum in even them most minor ways (say summer reading lists) opens one up to attack. If there's a bad word in it: attack. If there is sex, even abstractly: attack. Any hint of the realities of life: attack.
Unless, however, the novel introduced fits into the sacrosanct category of multicultural. If that's the case, suddenly all bets are off and it's possible to teach what real literature is good for. Good literature is not safe. Good literature rolls over the rocks in the human soul and examines the dark creepy crawlies. That's not to say there aren't happy endings, triumphs, love won, and sappy endings in real literature. These bright points exist but the trip up to them is challenging and arduous.
The House on Mango Street is one of those real books. There are a lot of dark things hidden behind the perception of young protagonist. There's rape, poverty, violence, and despair. There's also faith, love, and escape. It's a real book and the only reason we can teach it is because its latin origins protect it. Some administrator somewhere read the first 10 pages, absorbed the child POV and approved it. Well here's one in your eye, admin. The teachers won on this one.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
41. The Enormous Crocodile
by Roald Dahl
Of the lesser known Dahl children's books, I think this is my favorite so far. The story is about this gluttonous crocodile who sets out one day to slack his hunger on a passel of children. On his way through the jungle he explains his nefarious plan to a bevy of jungle animals who take it upon themselves to protect the children.
It's a cute little book on the classic lines. There's nothing too extraordinary about it but it's a pleasant little read.
Of the lesser known Dahl children's books, I think this is my favorite so far. The story is about this gluttonous crocodile who sets out one day to slack his hunger on a passel of children. On his way through the jungle he explains his nefarious plan to a bevy of jungle animals who take it upon themselves to protect the children.
It's a cute little book on the classic lines. There's nothing too extraordinary about it but it's a pleasant little read.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
40. By the Sword
by Mercedes Lackey
This is the natural successor to the Vows and Honor duo. Kerowyn is Kethry's granddaughter and an odd duck for her family. When disaster hits and her father's keep is overrun, it's left to Kerowyn to rescue her brother's bride. Being a rather intelligent young woman, she knows she can't take on a band of bandits on her own so she turns to her mysterious grandmother, Kethry. Kethry gifts her a magic sword and sends Kerowyn on her way. Needless to say, Kerowyn is successful but finds that she is no longer accepted by her family which launches her on a new path.
I like By the Sword but it's not my favorite of all Lackey's Valdemar books. Kerowyn as always seemed like this cold character and is hard for me to relate to. She's a perfectly feasible character but seems too ruled by her head for me.
This is the natural successor to the Vows and Honor duo. Kerowyn is Kethry's granddaughter and an odd duck for her family. When disaster hits and her father's keep is overrun, it's left to Kerowyn to rescue her brother's bride. Being a rather intelligent young woman, she knows she can't take on a band of bandits on her own so she turns to her mysterious grandmother, Kethry. Kethry gifts her a magic sword and sends Kerowyn on her way. Needless to say, Kerowyn is successful but finds that she is no longer accepted by her family which launches her on a new path.
I like By the Sword but it's not my favorite of all Lackey's Valdemar books. Kerowyn as always seemed like this cold character and is hard for me to relate to. She's a perfectly feasible character but seems too ruled by her head for me.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
39. Unknown
by Didier Van Caulwelaert
The French have a long literary tradition. I might even tack on the adjective "glorious." I went through a period where I was reading all sorts of french lit in translation. My french is unfortunately not good enough to read them untranslated. It was still good stuff. Dense, but good.
I started to notice that modern french lit often has a particular "frenchness." I figured out that Unknown was french lit by reading the first chapter. The copy I have is a reprint to coincide with the release of the movie adaptation and the translator's credit is not obvious. However, one chapter in and I went looking for it.
Unknown is about a guy, Martin Harris, who wakes up after being in a coma for three days. When he gets home, he finds a stranger living with his wife, taking over his job and calling himself by Martin's name. No one believes except for the cabbie who took Martin to the hospital originally. It is unclear whether it's a hallucination or an insane hoax. That sort of unclear reality seems to be a common element in french literature and is what clued me in.
This was a fun read but started to drag a bit in the middle. The end came as a bit of a surprise and seemed at least somewhat jarring. While it was a perfectly reasonable explanation of events, I didn't feel like it was even a possibility until we were suddenly there in the last 10 pages.
The French have a long literary tradition. I might even tack on the adjective "glorious." I went through a period where I was reading all sorts of french lit in translation. My french is unfortunately not good enough to read them untranslated. It was still good stuff. Dense, but good.
I started to notice that modern french lit often has a particular "frenchness." I figured out that Unknown was french lit by reading the first chapter. The copy I have is a reprint to coincide with the release of the movie adaptation and the translator's credit is not obvious. However, one chapter in and I went looking for it.
Unknown is about a guy, Martin Harris, who wakes up after being in a coma for three days. When he gets home, he finds a stranger living with his wife, taking over his job and calling himself by Martin's name. No one believes except for the cabbie who took Martin to the hospital originally. It is unclear whether it's a hallucination or an insane hoax. That sort of unclear reality seems to be a common element in french literature and is what clued me in.
This was a fun read but started to drag a bit in the middle. The end came as a bit of a surprise and seemed at least somewhat jarring. While it was a perfectly reasonable explanation of events, I didn't feel like it was even a possibility until we were suddenly there in the last 10 pages.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
38. The Wolves in the Walls
by Neil Gaiman & illustrated by Dave McKean
Much like The Day I Swapped My Dad For Two Goldfish, this is a collaboration of Neil Gaiman's story writing and Dave McKean's art. It's another kid's book, but The Wolves in the Walls is much better executed.
Lucy is a precocious little girl with a pig puppet (don't ask). When she starts hearing noises in the walls of their old house, she knows it's the wolves in the walls and if the wolves in the walls come out then it's all over. Everyone knows that apparently. Of course the wolves do come out of the walls and Lucy must lead and protect her somewhat vague and inept parents.
It's a fun little book and if I ever have kids I will be sure to read it to them.
Much like The Day I Swapped My Dad For Two Goldfish, this is a collaboration of Neil Gaiman's story writing and Dave McKean's art. It's another kid's book, but The Wolves in the Walls is much better executed.
Lucy is a precocious little girl with a pig puppet (don't ask). When she starts hearing noises in the walls of their old house, she knows it's the wolves in the walls and if the wolves in the walls come out then it's all over. Everyone knows that apparently. Of course the wolves do come out of the walls and Lucy must lead and protect her somewhat vague and inept parents.
It's a fun little book and if I ever have kids I will be sure to read it to them.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
36-37. Vows and Honor (duo)
by Mercedes Lackey
36. The Oathbound
37.Oathbreakers
Another set of those nostalgic rereads for me. Even though these books follow two of Lackey's earliest created characters, I didn't discover them until I was in college. Lackey has said that she created her two heroines because she was sick of fantasy stereotypes.
I believe it. While Kethry and Tarma are no longer all that unique, they don't fit those classic stereotypes for fantasy women. They are not:
Dragon Fodder: This is your classic woman tied to a post waiting to be a dragon snack. These characters tend to be objects in a literal way. They are something to be attained or rescued but they never ever act on their own behalf.
Man with Boobs: Some of the early female fantasy protagonists were basically male characters with a thin veneer of female pronouns. They acted like men, they responded to things in a masculine way, and more often than not they just happened to be lesbians. Not that lesbians in the real world are any less feminine, but in the general make-up of this character type, this particular sexual preference was just another 'acts like a man' point.
Incompetent Wannabe Hero: These chicks are a half step up from Dragon Fodder. They act on their own behalfs but they are so incompetent that they always have to be rescued by much more competent men types. They mainly exist in stories to get into trouble. Plot devices aren't really characters.
Sass-mobile: I actually enjoy this one in moderation. A Sass-mobile is often one of the previous types with a bit of witty dialogue tacked on. They tend to talk a big game and then get in over their heads. They are never solo operators for long because someone eventually has to come in and rescue them.
They are, in fact, highly competent in their own ways. While they aren't perfect, they consider their choices and usually make pretty good ones. They are intelligent, and not observably over hormonal. It is refreshing to have female characters in a fantasy book who aren't crosses between adolescent male wank material and a stereotype.
While I like these books and they are quite satisfying to read, they aren't my favorites in the series.
36. The Oathbound
37.Oathbreakers
Another set of those nostalgic rereads for me. Even though these books follow two of Lackey's earliest created characters, I didn't discover them until I was in college. Lackey has said that she created her two heroines because she was sick of fantasy stereotypes.
I believe it. While Kethry and Tarma are no longer all that unique, they don't fit those classic stereotypes for fantasy women. They are not:
Dragon Fodder: This is your classic woman tied to a post waiting to be a dragon snack. These characters tend to be objects in a literal way. They are something to be attained or rescued but they never ever act on their own behalf.
Man with Boobs: Some of the early female fantasy protagonists were basically male characters with a thin veneer of female pronouns. They acted like men, they responded to things in a masculine way, and more often than not they just happened to be lesbians. Not that lesbians in the real world are any less feminine, but in the general make-up of this character type, this particular sexual preference was just another 'acts like a man' point.
Incompetent Wannabe Hero: These chicks are a half step up from Dragon Fodder. They act on their own behalfs but they are so incompetent that they always have to be rescued by much more competent men types. They mainly exist in stories to get into trouble. Plot devices aren't really characters.
Sass-mobile: I actually enjoy this one in moderation. A Sass-mobile is often one of the previous types with a bit of witty dialogue tacked on. They tend to talk a big game and then get in over their heads. They are never solo operators for long because someone eventually has to come in and rescue them.
They are, in fact, highly competent in their own ways. While they aren't perfect, they consider their choices and usually make pretty good ones. They are intelligent, and not observably over hormonal. It is refreshing to have female characters in a fantasy book who aren't crosses between adolescent male wank material and a stereotype.
While I like these books and they are quite satisfying to read, they aren't my favorites in the series.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
35. Genesis
by Bernard Beckett
I like old science fiction. I spent my early twenties reading Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Alfred Bester, Frank Herbert, Ursula K. LeGuin, and the list continues. I really liked that older material for its frank look at human nature. Really good science fiction is more than just a story, it's an exploration in search for some deeper truth.
Newer science fiction, while it has much to offer, seems to have lost sight of its origins. Most of the time it seems to be a perfectly ordinary story that just happens to be in space. There isn't all that much difference between boy meets girl and boy meets alien after all. So while there isn't really anything wrong with most of the new science fiction, it just doesn't call to me.
Genesis, however, definitely qualifies as new science fiction (pub 2010) yet manages to recapture some of that old sci fi spirit that I love so much. Beckett gives us a world in transition where the worst has already happened. War, famine, and isolation provide a backdrop for a culture oddly influenced by the ancient greeks. Society is monitored and controlled by the intellectual elite. Anaximander is a student going through something akin to a doctoral defense in order to entire this elite society. The entire story is in the format of an interview between Anaxamander and some sort of professorial panel. Anaxamander's thesis is on the history of one man, Adam Forde, who is a enigmatic and controversial figure responsible for the last enduring secret in an almost ideal society.
While the premise seems to invite a dry read, the story really drew me in. The sense that something wasn't quite right builds from the very beginning until it hits a surprising yet absolutely satisfying conclusion. I often find myself figuring out the twists in books like these well in advance of the reveal, but in this case I only figured it out about five pages before Beckett revealed it. Beckett is an excellent writer and thinker and I look forward to reading more of his books.
I like old science fiction. I spent my early twenties reading Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Alfred Bester, Frank Herbert, Ursula K. LeGuin, and the list continues. I really liked that older material for its frank look at human nature. Really good science fiction is more than just a story, it's an exploration in search for some deeper truth.
Newer science fiction, while it has much to offer, seems to have lost sight of its origins. Most of the time it seems to be a perfectly ordinary story that just happens to be in space. There isn't all that much difference between boy meets girl and boy meets alien after all. So while there isn't really anything wrong with most of the new science fiction, it just doesn't call to me.
Genesis, however, definitely qualifies as new science fiction (pub 2010) yet manages to recapture some of that old sci fi spirit that I love so much. Beckett gives us a world in transition where the worst has already happened. War, famine, and isolation provide a backdrop for a culture oddly influenced by the ancient greeks. Society is monitored and controlled by the intellectual elite. Anaximander is a student going through something akin to a doctoral defense in order to entire this elite society. The entire story is in the format of an interview between Anaxamander and some sort of professorial panel. Anaxamander's thesis is on the history of one man, Adam Forde, who is a enigmatic and controversial figure responsible for the last enduring secret in an almost ideal society.
While the premise seems to invite a dry read, the story really drew me in. The sense that something wasn't quite right builds from the very beginning until it hits a surprising yet absolutely satisfying conclusion. I often find myself figuring out the twists in books like these well in advance of the reveal, but in this case I only figured it out about five pages before Beckett revealed it. Beckett is an excellent writer and thinker and I look forward to reading more of his books.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
32-34. Queen's Own (Trilogy)
by Mercedes Lackey
32. Arrows of the Queen
33. Arrow's Flight
34. Arrow's Fall
I explained to a couple of kids on my cross country team during a recent meet that some books are like old friends. You can read them over and over and, instead of getting boring, they reveal new facets and comfort an over-stimulated mind. They had caught me, the scary brit lit teacher, reading a battered old fantasy novel and couldn't quite get it to fit with my rep for high brow literature. However, when I explained that it was a part of a series I'd discovered when I was about their age (14 or so), it lead to a very interesting conversation about why reading novels is valuable.
These three books are the launching trilogy for a fantasy world that contains over 30 books and kept me entertained through my teens. While these are not the books I started on, they are the logical entrance into the world. They follow the early years of the Queen's Own, Talia. In this world, the monarch of Valdemar needs a person that they can trust absolutely and this need is filled by the Queen's (or King's depending) Own. The position is filled they way all Heraldic positions are, by being chosen by the enigmatic Companions who look like pristine white horses but are in fact human smart and magically endowed.
In Arrows of the Queen, a young Talia is whisked away from a extraordinarily repressive and restrictive set of religious outliers called Holders. The culture seems similar to a fantasy adaptation of the worst stories of Mormons in the real world. Despite cultural expectations, Talia loves to read and resists blind conformity. However, the world turns upside down on her thirteenth birthday when her father's wives tell her it is time to get married. She runs away in a blind panic and is chosen by her companion Roland who promptly absconds with her to Valdemar's capitol, Haven. Once there, she discovers a world where her interests in learning are actually encouraged and where she is welcomed with open arms into a warm and accepting community. Not everything comes up roses though: the queen's only child has turned into an unruly class conscious brat, many suspect that the previous Queen's Own was murdered, and not everyone in the castle is as accepting of her as the Heralds.
By Arrow's Flight the heir to the throne has been turned back onto the right path, and Talia has earned her full-whites. In other terms, she's graduated to her full position. The only thing left for her to do before taking on the full responsibilities of the Queen's Own, is her internship circuit. A kind of rite of passage for all Heralds where they travel a route through the kingdom dispensing justice and providing an official conduit of information both to the outlying reaches of the kingdom and from those outlying areas to the capitol. So she packs up and heads off on her internship only to realize her control over her gift of empathy is imperfect at best and that there are many disturbing rumors circulating about her.
Finally, in Arrow's Fall, Talia returns triumphant to Haven having passed her internship with flying colors only to find that the High Council of Valdemar is pressuring the Queen to marry off her daughter post-haste to the son of a neighboring kingdom. Things seem a little too good to be true and Talia is sent back out on a diplomacy mission that goes disastrously awry.
I think as a teenager I identified with Talia a great deal. Not the repressive family life bit but the sort of awkward shyness of her mixed with deep empathy for others and a strict personal sense of morality. I like that she's so strong but also vulnerable and confused much of the time. It makes her endearing and believable. These days, I reread them and I find a piece of my childhood which was often wracked with confusion and the comfort I always found in how Talia got through it.
32. Arrows of the Queen
33. Arrow's Flight
34. Arrow's Fall
I explained to a couple of kids on my cross country team during a recent meet that some books are like old friends. You can read them over and over and, instead of getting boring, they reveal new facets and comfort an over-stimulated mind. They had caught me, the scary brit lit teacher, reading a battered old fantasy novel and couldn't quite get it to fit with my rep for high brow literature. However, when I explained that it was a part of a series I'd discovered when I was about their age (14 or so), it lead to a very interesting conversation about why reading novels is valuable.
These three books are the launching trilogy for a fantasy world that contains over 30 books and kept me entertained through my teens. While these are not the books I started on, they are the logical entrance into the world. They follow the early years of the Queen's Own, Talia. In this world, the monarch of Valdemar needs a person that they can trust absolutely and this need is filled by the Queen's (or King's depending) Own. The position is filled they way all Heraldic positions are, by being chosen by the enigmatic Companions who look like pristine white horses but are in fact human smart and magically endowed.
In Arrows of the Queen, a young Talia is whisked away from a extraordinarily repressive and restrictive set of religious outliers called Holders. The culture seems similar to a fantasy adaptation of the worst stories of Mormons in the real world. Despite cultural expectations, Talia loves to read and resists blind conformity. However, the world turns upside down on her thirteenth birthday when her father's wives tell her it is time to get married. She runs away in a blind panic and is chosen by her companion Roland who promptly absconds with her to Valdemar's capitol, Haven. Once there, she discovers a world where her interests in learning are actually encouraged and where she is welcomed with open arms into a warm and accepting community. Not everything comes up roses though: the queen's only child has turned into an unruly class conscious brat, many suspect that the previous Queen's Own was murdered, and not everyone in the castle is as accepting of her as the Heralds.
By Arrow's Flight the heir to the throne has been turned back onto the right path, and Talia has earned her full-whites. In other terms, she's graduated to her full position. The only thing left for her to do before taking on the full responsibilities of the Queen's Own, is her internship circuit. A kind of rite of passage for all Heralds where they travel a route through the kingdom dispensing justice and providing an official conduit of information both to the outlying reaches of the kingdom and from those outlying areas to the capitol. So she packs up and heads off on her internship only to realize her control over her gift of empathy is imperfect at best and that there are many disturbing rumors circulating about her.
Finally, in Arrow's Fall, Talia returns triumphant to Haven having passed her internship with flying colors only to find that the High Council of Valdemar is pressuring the Queen to marry off her daughter post-haste to the son of a neighboring kingdom. Things seem a little too good to be true and Talia is sent back out on a diplomacy mission that goes disastrously awry.
I think as a teenager I identified with Talia a great deal. Not the repressive family life bit but the sort of awkward shyness of her mixed with deep empathy for others and a strict personal sense of morality. I like that she's so strong but also vulnerable and confused much of the time. It makes her endearing and believable. These days, I reread them and I find a piece of my childhood which was often wracked with confusion and the comfort I always found in how Talia got through it.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
31. The Postman Always Rings Twice
by James M. Cain
I like reading books that have been banned at some point. It's not that the books themselves are so shocking to me usually, but that by reading them I get a window into what used to be shocking. I gain a lot of insight into various cultures by looking at their taboos through literature. The Postman Always Rings Twice was published in 1934 and promptly banned in Boston for it's mix of dark sexuality and graphically described violence.
By today's standards Postman is still pretty jarring. English slang has shifted significantly in the intervening 75 years making some of the dialog difficult to follow but the main events are pretty clear. Cora, the main female character, is a manipulative serial monogamist who jumps between two mates: Nick her Greek immigrant husband (both steady and loyal) and Frank the American ne'er-do-well who offers danger and excitement but no stability. Frank and Cora start a relationship right under her husband's nose and soon they decide to invent the perfect crime. After one failed attempt, Frank and Cora's relationship get's rocky. Things devolve from there.
The story has long supposed to be based on the real 1927 Ruth Snyder case. The Snyder case was outlined in one of my recent reads, The Poisoner's Handbook, and is why I picked up the book. However, Postman is a book that appears in any serious discussion of crime noir literature. In addition, it appears at the bottom of the Modern Library Association's list of 100 Best Novels. While I'm not sure it's quite deserving of it's status on the basis of the writing, the content does provide a unique look at the crazy out of control times around prohibition and it was seminal to the development of the hardboiled genre.
I like reading books that have been banned at some point. It's not that the books themselves are so shocking to me usually, but that by reading them I get a window into what used to be shocking. I gain a lot of insight into various cultures by looking at their taboos through literature. The Postman Always Rings Twice was published in 1934 and promptly banned in Boston for it's mix of dark sexuality and graphically described violence.
By today's standards Postman is still pretty jarring. English slang has shifted significantly in the intervening 75 years making some of the dialog difficult to follow but the main events are pretty clear. Cora, the main female character, is a manipulative serial monogamist who jumps between two mates: Nick her Greek immigrant husband (both steady and loyal) and Frank the American ne'er-do-well who offers danger and excitement but no stability. Frank and Cora start a relationship right under her husband's nose and soon they decide to invent the perfect crime. After one failed attempt, Frank and Cora's relationship get's rocky. Things devolve from there.
The story has long supposed to be based on the real 1927 Ruth Snyder case. The Snyder case was outlined in one of my recent reads, The Poisoner's Handbook, and is why I picked up the book. However, Postman is a book that appears in any serious discussion of crime noir literature. In addition, it appears at the bottom of the Modern Library Association's list of 100 Best Novels. While I'm not sure it's quite deserving of it's status on the basis of the writing, the content does provide a unique look at the crazy out of control times around prohibition and it was seminal to the development of the hardboiled genre.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
30. The Vicar of Nibbleswicke
by Roald Dahl
Roald Dahl is well known for a relatively small segment of his writings. Among the remaining works are a large number of short stories and a dozen or so other children's books. I've been slogging through the lesser known children's material as a part of some sort of completionist quest to conquer the Dahl-ian oeuvre. Some of these are better than others.
The Vicar of Nibbleswicke is really less a book, even in the world of children's lit, and more a short story. The Vicar is a well-meaning god-fearing Anglican who has an unfortunate tendency to verbally and spontaneously say works backwards. So if he meant to say, "please park on the lawn," it might come out, "please krap on the lawn." It's actually a pretty nifty concept for a kid's book but it has nothing to do with dyslexia as the doctor in the book asserts.
It's very short and doesn't stand out in any direction. Very few things in this world inspire me to apathy. This is one that does.
Roald Dahl is well known for a relatively small segment of his writings. Among the remaining works are a large number of short stories and a dozen or so other children's books. I've been slogging through the lesser known children's material as a part of some sort of completionist quest to conquer the Dahl-ian oeuvre. Some of these are better than others.
The Vicar of Nibbleswicke is really less a book, even in the world of children's lit, and more a short story. The Vicar is a well-meaning god-fearing Anglican who has an unfortunate tendency to verbally and spontaneously say works backwards. So if he meant to say, "please park on the lawn," it might come out, "please krap on the lawn." It's actually a pretty nifty concept for a kid's book but it has nothing to do with dyslexia as the doctor in the book asserts.
It's very short and doesn't stand out in any direction. Very few things in this world inspire me to apathy. This is one that does.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
29. Bill Bryson's African Diary
by Bill Bryson
In 2002 CARE international asked Bill Bryson to pop over to Kenya and write a little piece about what they do there. The result is this painfully slim little volume. If you aren't already familiar with Bryson's dry and self deprecating style, this is a good intro. Within 49 pages he manages to convey not only the somewhat harrowing prospect that travel in Africa can be, but also the genuine beauty of the people there.
That said, Bryson doesn't flinch from accurately describing his experiences, and not all of them were pleasant. Some were frightening and many of them sound dreadfully uncomfortable. What he seemed genuinely impressed with was the way CARE works with people. They seem to have a goal of helping the people pull themselves out of poverty with micro loans and education programs. All and all, I get the impression that it's one of the better charities.
In 2002 CARE international asked Bill Bryson to pop over to Kenya and write a little piece about what they do there. The result is this painfully slim little volume. If you aren't already familiar with Bryson's dry and self deprecating style, this is a good intro. Within 49 pages he manages to convey not only the somewhat harrowing prospect that travel in Africa can be, but also the genuine beauty of the people there.
That said, Bryson doesn't flinch from accurately describing his experiences, and not all of them were pleasant. Some were frightening and many of them sound dreadfully uncomfortable. What he seemed genuinely impressed with was the way CARE works with people. They seem to have a goal of helping the people pull themselves out of poverty with micro loans and education programs. All and all, I get the impression that it's one of the better charities.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
28. The Poisoner's Handbook
by Deborah Blum
As I get older I find that I enjoy non-fiction more and more. I particularly like the sort of light topic overviews and history that Penguin frequently puts out. The Poisoner's Handbook is a book I hoovered up during one of my Border's death knell raids.
At first I thought it was a mystery story, then I realized it was non-fiction and I thought it was going to be an overview of the common poisons during the Jazz Age. That's what the title indicates. However, while that information is in there, it's more a biography of the first medical examiner of New York, Charles Norris, mixed with overviews of the issues of the day and how it mixed with various poisons.
Prior to Charles Norris, the coroner system was another corrupt system in a notoriously corrupt city government. However, increasing pressure to reform incidentally paved the way for a better system based on scientific qualifications instead of nepotism. Norris took control and, despite a mayor that resented him, created a medical examiners office that became the model for the rest of the country.
One of Norris's first moves was to hire an obsessive toxicologist named Alexander Gettler, and together they set out to devise ways to detect poisons in the tissues of corpses. It sounds like a simple thing today but evidently at the time it was difficult to do and poison was considered one of the least likely methods of murder to be caught.
It's really very interesting stuff and Blum presented it in an entertaining way. While, at times, she linked together topics oddly to keep the narrative moving, it was never too confusing. However, after reading the book it seemed that New York shouldn't have survived prohibition.
As I get older I find that I enjoy non-fiction more and more. I particularly like the sort of light topic overviews and history that Penguin frequently puts out. The Poisoner's Handbook is a book I hoovered up during one of my Border's death knell raids.
At first I thought it was a mystery story, then I realized it was non-fiction and I thought it was going to be an overview of the common poisons during the Jazz Age. That's what the title indicates. However, while that information is in there, it's more a biography of the first medical examiner of New York, Charles Norris, mixed with overviews of the issues of the day and how it mixed with various poisons.
Prior to Charles Norris, the coroner system was another corrupt system in a notoriously corrupt city government. However, increasing pressure to reform incidentally paved the way for a better system based on scientific qualifications instead of nepotism. Norris took control and, despite a mayor that resented him, created a medical examiners office that became the model for the rest of the country.
One of Norris's first moves was to hire an obsessive toxicologist named Alexander Gettler, and together they set out to devise ways to detect poisons in the tissues of corpses. It sounds like a simple thing today but evidently at the time it was difficult to do and poison was considered one of the least likely methods of murder to be caught.
It's really very interesting stuff and Blum presented it in an entertaining way. While, at times, she linked together topics oddly to keep the narrative moving, it was never too confusing. However, after reading the book it seemed that New York shouldn't have survived prohibition.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
27. Magic Kingdom For Sale -- Sold!
by Terry Brooks
Part of the way genre fiction works is by providing the reader a predictable set of formulas spiced by inventive window dressing. For example, mystery: Someone dies within the first two chapters, the investigative protagonist investigates the physical evidence (body/ scene), talks to potential suspects, is distracted by irrelevant details, but in the end finds the vital clue and solves the case. Most (not all) mystery novels work off this basic formula. There are some variations and certainly the genre has evolved since its early popularity in the mid 1800's, but the basic structure remains pretty consistent.
Fantasy stories don't break down as nicely but there are a number of common elements. 1. The setting is always based off a real world time period, but with magic. Most popular is the idealized medieval settings but recent trends stretch to modern magical settings that are quite satisfying as well. 2. Magic is systematized in some way. Whether or not the author explains the rules to the reader is irrelevant, there's always a set of rules for the use of magic. 3. Non-human intelligent species (elves, orcs, telepathic horses, etc.) are optional but frequently present. 4. The protagonists are young, usually ranging between 12 and late 20's. The reason for this, I believe, is target demographics. Historically fantasy novels were mostly read by adolescent boys and most protagonists were adolescent boys. When girls started reading more fantasy novels more female protagonists appeared. As a genre, fantasy is quite marketing-minded. Sometimes younger protagonists appear but they almost never stray older.
Now that I've laid out the rules, it's important to realize that some of the most satisfying specimens of any genre deliberately break at least one of the rules. It all goes back to that old adage about how the rules can always be broken but first you have to really know the rules. Terry Brooks is more popularly known for his Shannara series which are extraordinarily Tolkien-esque. They aren't bad books. I quite enjoyed them. However, they follow the well trod path of underdog crossing continents to acquire the magic whosit-whatsit that will vanquish the big bad evil whats-the-name but only after nearly giving it all up to spend a quiet life raising pigs, thatching roofs, or some other equally mundane job. Perfectly readable and perfectly formulaic. Magic Kingdom for Sale is the book written after the first three Shannara books. So if the Shannara books demonstrate that Brooks knows all the rule, I shouldn't have been surprised to find him breaking rules in this book.
I was surprised though. This is one of a spare handful of fantasy novels featuring an older protagonist. Ben Holiday is 40. He's rich. He's a successful lawyer. He's not the genre rules approved protagonist. However, Brooks provided Ben with a good reason to want to leave it all behind and buy his very own magic kingdom. Which he does. However, there are some previously undisclosed problems with his new-bought kingdom.
While this is a slow starter and I struggled a little to get into it, I found it a most enjoyable read. Ben is a most sympathetic protagonist who's mile wide stubborn streak makes him believable and endearing. The supporting cast of characters are a fun hodge-podge of mismatched personalities and human failings.
Part of the way genre fiction works is by providing the reader a predictable set of formulas spiced by inventive window dressing. For example, mystery: Someone dies within the first two chapters, the investigative protagonist investigates the physical evidence (body/ scene), talks to potential suspects, is distracted by irrelevant details, but in the end finds the vital clue and solves the case. Most (not all) mystery novels work off this basic formula. There are some variations and certainly the genre has evolved since its early popularity in the mid 1800's, but the basic structure remains pretty consistent.
Fantasy stories don't break down as nicely but there are a number of common elements. 1. The setting is always based off a real world time period, but with magic. Most popular is the idealized medieval settings but recent trends stretch to modern magical settings that are quite satisfying as well. 2. Magic is systematized in some way. Whether or not the author explains the rules to the reader is irrelevant, there's always a set of rules for the use of magic. 3. Non-human intelligent species (elves, orcs, telepathic horses, etc.) are optional but frequently present. 4. The protagonists are young, usually ranging between 12 and late 20's. The reason for this, I believe, is target demographics. Historically fantasy novels were mostly read by adolescent boys and most protagonists were adolescent boys. When girls started reading more fantasy novels more female protagonists appeared. As a genre, fantasy is quite marketing-minded. Sometimes younger protagonists appear but they almost never stray older.
Now that I've laid out the rules, it's important to realize that some of the most satisfying specimens of any genre deliberately break at least one of the rules. It all goes back to that old adage about how the rules can always be broken but first you have to really know the rules. Terry Brooks is more popularly known for his Shannara series which are extraordinarily Tolkien-esque. They aren't bad books. I quite enjoyed them. However, they follow the well trod path of underdog crossing continents to acquire the magic whosit-whatsit that will vanquish the big bad evil whats-the-name but only after nearly giving it all up to spend a quiet life raising pigs, thatching roofs, or some other equally mundane job. Perfectly readable and perfectly formulaic. Magic Kingdom for Sale is the book written after the first three Shannara books. So if the Shannara books demonstrate that Brooks knows all the rule, I shouldn't have been surprised to find him breaking rules in this book.
I was surprised though. This is one of a spare handful of fantasy novels featuring an older protagonist. Ben Holiday is 40. He's rich. He's a successful lawyer. He's not the genre rules approved protagonist. However, Brooks provided Ben with a good reason to want to leave it all behind and buy his very own magic kingdom. Which he does. However, there are some previously undisclosed problems with his new-bought kingdom.
While this is a slow starter and I struggled a little to get into it, I found it a most enjoyable read. Ben is a most sympathetic protagonist who's mile wide stubborn streak makes him believable and endearing. The supporting cast of characters are a fun hodge-podge of mismatched personalities and human failings.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
26. The Day I Swapped my Dad for Two Goldfish
Written by Neil Gaiman and Illustrated by Dave McKean
I read a fair bit of YA lit. Well done YA material isn't all that different than "adult" literature really. When I read YA lit I review it because a novel is a novel is a novel. However, I tend to draw the line at children's picture books. Sure they are stories and the artwork can be interesting, but there isn't usually much to comment on. I know there are people out there who review picture books on a regular basis and more power to them.
So, this is a children's book. It's the story of a boy who swaps his dad for two goldfish. Shocker given the title I know. Like I said, not a whole lot to say about the plot. The reason I'm reviewing this is because it happens to be written by one of the authors I follow, Neil Gaiman. It's a cute little story but not the typical Gaiman whimsey. The illustrations are the typical chaotic lines over collage and mixed media that Dave McKean is known for.
So there you have it, my first children's book review.
I read a fair bit of YA lit. Well done YA material isn't all that different than "adult" literature really. When I read YA lit I review it because a novel is a novel is a novel. However, I tend to draw the line at children's picture books. Sure they are stories and the artwork can be interesting, but there isn't usually much to comment on. I know there are people out there who review picture books on a regular basis and more power to them.
So, this is a children's book. It's the story of a boy who swaps his dad for two goldfish. Shocker given the title I know. Like I said, not a whole lot to say about the plot. The reason I'm reviewing this is because it happens to be written by one of the authors I follow, Neil Gaiman. It's a cute little story but not the typical Gaiman whimsey. The illustrations are the typical chaotic lines over collage and mixed media that Dave McKean is known for.
So there you have it, my first children's book review.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
25. Lamb
by Christopher Moore
I have, on this site, heaped adoration on Christopher Moore before. As a general rule I really like his quirky dry sense of humor. He's so funny he's practically British.
All of Moore's books are a humorous treatment of something. This one is a new gospel. The gospel as told by Jesus's, who's real name is Joshua, best friend Levi, also known as Biff. Biff is a bit of an idiot but he knows an awful lot about the first 30 years of Jesus's life. Biff's narrative of Jesus's early training isn't particularly spiritual. It doesn't describe some deeper truth. It definitely is not going to revolutionize the way we look at Christianity. It is light-hearted, deeply funny, and even sweet at times.
This is not my favorite Moore novel, but it is fun.
I have, on this site, heaped adoration on Christopher Moore before. As a general rule I really like his quirky dry sense of humor. He's so funny he's practically British.
All of Moore's books are a humorous treatment of something. This one is a new gospel. The gospel as told by Jesus's, who's real name is Joshua, best friend Levi, also known as Biff. Biff is a bit of an idiot but he knows an awful lot about the first 30 years of Jesus's life. Biff's narrative of Jesus's early training isn't particularly spiritual. It doesn't describe some deeper truth. It definitely is not going to revolutionize the way we look at Christianity. It is light-hearted, deeply funny, and even sweet at times.
This is not my favorite Moore novel, but it is fun.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
24. Slumdog Millionaire
by Vikas Swarup
Originally published under the title Q&A, I read this book after watching the movie adaptation which made a sizable splash not too long ago. A lot of people come down on movie adaptations of novels. To a certain extent that's justified. A movie cannot present as much content over 2 hours as a novel can, even a relatively short one. So, just walking in the theater you know that the movie has to be different from the novel. There will often be omissions in the story or places where the movie glosses over things that the author spent considerable time on in the book. Occasionally, the movie will even change content. *gasp*
None of this means that the movie has to be bad or even a poor representation of the source material and I'm tired of people who go on rants about movie adaptations of novels. In some cases the movie is better than the source novel. (see: "The Thirteenth Warrior" vs. Crichton's Eaters of the Dead) Many times I find that the movie, while a different entity from the novel, is a good movie and honestly, as a lit teacher, if a movie adapation gets someone to read a book then hallelujah.
"Slumdog Millionaire" is a good revisioning of the novel and if you've watched the film, you've got a pretty good idea of the book. That's not to say the book isn't worth reading though. Swarup's novel is beautifully written. Ram Mohammad Thomas is a bright but uneducated man living in slums of India. When he manages to answer all the questions in a quiz show, the assumption is that Mr. Thomas must be a big fat cheater. To that end, Mr. Thomas explains question by question how events, some bizarre, in his life gave him the answers to these questions. The rest was just dumb luck. The structure is interesting. Each question is a chapter and the chapter starts out with a vignette from his life and ends with the question being asked in the quiz show. The questions jump around in Mr. Thomas's personal timeline, and even thought this could become quite confusing, Swarup masterfully gives the reader enough to quickly put it in context.
The biggest difference between the movie and the novel is a fully developed secondary plot thread that the movie just skipped all together. The movie dropped a lot of the dark elements in the novel and inserted a different set of dark elements. After reading the book and seeing the movie, it falls in the "different but equally good" category and I encourage anyone who watched the movie to seek out the novel.
Originally published under the title Q&A, I read this book after watching the movie adaptation which made a sizable splash not too long ago. A lot of people come down on movie adaptations of novels. To a certain extent that's justified. A movie cannot present as much content over 2 hours as a novel can, even a relatively short one. So, just walking in the theater you know that the movie has to be different from the novel. There will often be omissions in the story or places where the movie glosses over things that the author spent considerable time on in the book. Occasionally, the movie will even change content. *gasp*
None of this means that the movie has to be bad or even a poor representation of the source material and I'm tired of people who go on rants about movie adaptations of novels. In some cases the movie is better than the source novel. (see: "The Thirteenth Warrior" vs. Crichton's Eaters of the Dead) Many times I find that the movie, while a different entity from the novel, is a good movie and honestly, as a lit teacher, if a movie adapation gets someone to read a book then hallelujah.
"Slumdog Millionaire" is a good revisioning of the novel and if you've watched the film, you've got a pretty good idea of the book. That's not to say the book isn't worth reading though. Swarup's novel is beautifully written. Ram Mohammad Thomas is a bright but uneducated man living in slums of India. When he manages to answer all the questions in a quiz show, the assumption is that Mr. Thomas must be a big fat cheater. To that end, Mr. Thomas explains question by question how events, some bizarre, in his life gave him the answers to these questions. The rest was just dumb luck. The structure is interesting. Each question is a chapter and the chapter starts out with a vignette from his life and ends with the question being asked in the quiz show. The questions jump around in Mr. Thomas's personal timeline, and even thought this could become quite confusing, Swarup masterfully gives the reader enough to quickly put it in context.
The biggest difference between the movie and the novel is a fully developed secondary plot thread that the movie just skipped all together. The movie dropped a lot of the dark elements in the novel and inserted a different set of dark elements. After reading the book and seeing the movie, it falls in the "different but equally good" category and I encourage anyone who watched the movie to seek out the novel.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
23. Redwall
by Brian Jacques
Over the last few decades YA lit has undergone quite the revolution. A large number of new series have appeared and swept, not only through the youth, but through the general adult readers as well. The most obvious ones are the recent Harry Potter and Twilight series, but James Patterson's Maximum Ride series deserves some attention as well as the R.L. Stine books. On the earlier end of this recent influx was the Redwall series.
Redwall was initially published in 1986 but didn't receive a whole lot of attention until several years afterward. It was fairly popular through the 90's and early 2000's and was ultimately eclipsed by the Harry Potter series. Despite falling out of popularity, this is a series that deserves a more permanent place in the YA canon.
Redwall Abbey is home to a monastic order of peace loving mice. These mice are community leaders and healers much beloved by the smaller woodland mammals. When a maurading horde of evil rats come to take over the Abbey, these peace loving critters must learn to fight led by the most unlikely member of their order.
This is a delightful book. There are a lot of positive problem solving examples in there without it being trite or preachy. While it's clearly intended for a younger audience, it is still enjoyable to me as adult.
Over the last few decades YA lit has undergone quite the revolution. A large number of new series have appeared and swept, not only through the youth, but through the general adult readers as well. The most obvious ones are the recent Harry Potter and Twilight series, but James Patterson's Maximum Ride series deserves some attention as well as the R.L. Stine books. On the earlier end of this recent influx was the Redwall series.
Redwall was initially published in 1986 but didn't receive a whole lot of attention until several years afterward. It was fairly popular through the 90's and early 2000's and was ultimately eclipsed by the Harry Potter series. Despite falling out of popularity, this is a series that deserves a more permanent place in the YA canon.
Redwall Abbey is home to a monastic order of peace loving mice. These mice are community leaders and healers much beloved by the smaller woodland mammals. When a maurading horde of evil rats come to take over the Abbey, these peace loving critters must learn to fight led by the most unlikely member of their order.
This is a delightful book. There are a lot of positive problem solving examples in there without it being trite or preachy. While it's clearly intended for a younger audience, it is still enjoyable to me as adult.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
20-22. Lillith's Brood (trilogy)
By Octavia Butler
20. Dawn
21. Adulthood Rites
22. Imago
I like omnibuses. With a collection the size of mine, the more compact format is a vital space saver even if they are a little more difficult to physically handle. The real downside of an omnibus is that when closely related books are bound together, I find that they begin to blur together. And so, because I read these three books in one go as a part of an omnibus, I've decided to review them as one work.
Lillith's Brood is a three story arc centered around a set of related characters. A true science fiction story, Lillith's Brood presents an unusual idea of what would interstellar travelers really be like. We generally tend to think that aliens would not only look a lot like us but be motivated by things that motivate humans. Think Startrek or Star Wars. Even War of the Worlds involves aliens who want to dominate our world for its resources. Butler, by contrast, came up with a very alien extraterrestrial race. One who's motivations are unfathomable to us. On the one hand they save the human race from self destruction, but on the other hand they wish to destroy humans as humans by blending their genetic code with human genetic code and creating a new species. And they have the technological superiority to force the humans into this blending. Clearly, the human response was not entirely positive.
It really is an excellent series written by a master of the genre. This review cannot possibly hope to convey the worth of this work of literature.
20. Dawn
21. Adulthood Rites
22. Imago
I like omnibuses. With a collection the size of mine, the more compact format is a vital space saver even if they are a little more difficult to physically handle. The real downside of an omnibus is that when closely related books are bound together, I find that they begin to blur together. And so, because I read these three books in one go as a part of an omnibus, I've decided to review them as one work.
Lillith's Brood is a three story arc centered around a set of related characters. A true science fiction story, Lillith's Brood presents an unusual idea of what would interstellar travelers really be like. We generally tend to think that aliens would not only look a lot like us but be motivated by things that motivate humans. Think Startrek or Star Wars. Even War of the Worlds involves aliens who want to dominate our world for its resources. Butler, by contrast, came up with a very alien extraterrestrial race. One who's motivations are unfathomable to us. On the one hand they save the human race from self destruction, but on the other hand they wish to destroy humans as humans by blending their genetic code with human genetic code and creating a new species. And they have the technological superiority to force the humans into this blending. Clearly, the human response was not entirely positive.
It really is an excellent series written by a master of the genre. This review cannot possibly hope to convey the worth of this work of literature.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Apologies
I've noticed something about having summers off: I have terrible time sense. As it turns out, if I don't have a regular schedule imposed on me, I have tendency to forget what day it is and somehow I completely lost track of Tuesday. I rather suspect that Tuesday pulled a fast one and is off larking about with Saturday and Sunday. That's what comes of Friday, Saturday, and Sunday always getting the revelries. Even Monday gets the occasional bar-b-que. It was only a matter of time before one of the mid-week days to scarper off in a fit of resentment.
Nevertheless, I shall take responsibility for the wayward weekday and admit that I was ill-prepared for my Wednesday article which I am now writing nearly 15 hours late. I'm so sorry. Tuesday is also very sorry, I'm sure.
Now that that's settled, time is an interesting thing. We perceive the passage of time as an observable phenomenon only because something very predictable happens at set intervals. i.e. the passage of a full day is one period of light caused by the sun rising and one period of darkness caused by the sun setting. We further divide this thing we call a day into two units to match these observable intervals: day and night respectively. Moving into larger intervals we have seasons and years. All these things are observable phenomenons which is all well and good. Even I would be hard pressed to entirely miss the passage of summer.
It makes sense to have these divisions because we can observe them and are, to some degree, affected by them. What I don't get is some of the more arbitrary ones. For example, why 24 hours in a day? It's almost counter-intuitive. Humans tend to organize things naturally in sets of 10. So why not 20 hours in a day or even 30? I'm sure there is a historical reason, but that doesn't stop it from being arbitrary. The number of days in a year is dictated by the cosmos, inconveniently, at approximately 365.25 days in the year. Even assuming that accounting for that quarter of a day is always going to be an issue, why would we divide weeks into units of 7 days which doesn't divide evenly into 365? Why not weeks of 5 days? It's all so arbitrary.
I for one stand with Tuesday in protest of arbitrary time division. Those of you who wish to advocate in these sad strange days for rational marking of temporal progress, stand with me. Stand up and say no to the 24 hour day! Say no to the 7 day week! Stand with me! There will be a protest rally on the 5th Monday of July, 2011 at the 25th hour where I shall loudly and with much vigor rewrite the calendar into something more sensible. I hope to see you all there. Bring a clock alternative of your choice (I'm bringing my trusty adjustable hour glass.)
Nevertheless, I shall take responsibility for the wayward weekday and admit that I was ill-prepared for my Wednesday article which I am now writing nearly 15 hours late. I'm so sorry. Tuesday is also very sorry, I'm sure.
Now that that's settled, time is an interesting thing. We perceive the passage of time as an observable phenomenon only because something very predictable happens at set intervals. i.e. the passage of a full day is one period of light caused by the sun rising and one period of darkness caused by the sun setting. We further divide this thing we call a day into two units to match these observable intervals: day and night respectively. Moving into larger intervals we have seasons and years. All these things are observable phenomenons which is all well and good. Even I would be hard pressed to entirely miss the passage of summer.
It makes sense to have these divisions because we can observe them and are, to some degree, affected by them. What I don't get is some of the more arbitrary ones. For example, why 24 hours in a day? It's almost counter-intuitive. Humans tend to organize things naturally in sets of 10. So why not 20 hours in a day or even 30? I'm sure there is a historical reason, but that doesn't stop it from being arbitrary. The number of days in a year is dictated by the cosmos, inconveniently, at approximately 365.25 days in the year. Even assuming that accounting for that quarter of a day is always going to be an issue, why would we divide weeks into units of 7 days which doesn't divide evenly into 365? Why not weeks of 5 days? It's all so arbitrary.
I for one stand with Tuesday in protest of arbitrary time division. Those of you who wish to advocate in these sad strange days for rational marking of temporal progress, stand with me. Stand up and say no to the 24 hour day! Say no to the 7 day week! Stand with me! There will be a protest rally on the 5th Monday of July, 2011 at the 25th hour where I shall loudly and with much vigor rewrite the calendar into something more sensible. I hope to see you all there. Bring a clock alternative of your choice (I'm bringing my trusty adjustable hour glass.)
Sunday, July 10, 2011
19. Real Murders
by Charlaine Harris
Harris is better known these days for her Southern Vampire Series which has been adapted into an HBO series called "True Blood." I've read that entire series, aside from the newest, and although I found them fun, I didn't come away terribly impressed with Harris.
Later, I discovered that Harris had an earlier carrier as a midlist mystery writer. She has a couple other series going and it was only a matter of time before I tracked them down. Real Murders is the debut title for the Aurora Teagarden series. This is a straight up mystery series. There are no vampires, ghosts, or paranormal powers of any kind. Nor was there any racy sex, though the possibility exists for some title later down the line.
Real Murders is also a much better book than any of the Southern Vampire Series. The mystery is well plotted, all of the characters behave in reasonable ways, and I didn't find myself working for the suspension of disbelief. This leads me to conclude that Harris, as much as I enjoy Sookie Stackhouse and her tawdry vampire love triangles, needs to go back to mystery writing.
The protagonist, Aurora Teagarden, is a young librarian with a mousey dresscode and a significant lack of ambition. She has her routines and her books. She also is a member of a club called "Real Murders" which is a group of people obsessed with the study of real crimes. The action starts when people connected to club members are murdered in ways that mimic famous murders. Events send long time friends through a maze of suspicion and doubt.
It's good. The ultimate resolution makes sense and fits the facts as they are presented. While it could of used a little more groundwork to really sell the perps as villains, it's a minor concern.
Harris is better known these days for her Southern Vampire Series which has been adapted into an HBO series called "True Blood." I've read that entire series, aside from the newest, and although I found them fun, I didn't come away terribly impressed with Harris.
Later, I discovered that Harris had an earlier carrier as a midlist mystery writer. She has a couple other series going and it was only a matter of time before I tracked them down. Real Murders is the debut title for the Aurora Teagarden series. This is a straight up mystery series. There are no vampires, ghosts, or paranormal powers of any kind. Nor was there any racy sex, though the possibility exists for some title later down the line.
Real Murders is also a much better book than any of the Southern Vampire Series. The mystery is well plotted, all of the characters behave in reasonable ways, and I didn't find myself working for the suspension of disbelief. This leads me to conclude that Harris, as much as I enjoy Sookie Stackhouse and her tawdry vampire love triangles, needs to go back to mystery writing.
The protagonist, Aurora Teagarden, is a young librarian with a mousey dresscode and a significant lack of ambition. She has her routines and her books. She also is a member of a club called "Real Murders" which is a group of people obsessed with the study of real crimes. The action starts when people connected to club members are murdered in ways that mimic famous murders. Events send long time friends through a maze of suspicion and doubt.
It's good. The ultimate resolution makes sense and fits the facts as they are presented. While it could of used a little more groundwork to really sell the perps as villains, it's a minor concern.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
18. Casino Royale
by Ian Fleming
People in my generation grew up knowing who James Bond is. He was part of the cultural fabric in the United States despite being a very British character. So when I picked up Casino Royale, the first of Fleming's Bond series, I thought I knew what to expect.
I was expecting the calm sophisticated smooth operator of the movies. Someone dashing and in charge. I was expecting the James Bond of the movies. Fleming's Bond, as written, does superficially resemble the movie Bond: physically attractive, calm under stress, drinks gin cocktails. However, there's a misogynistic streak in the books that I wasn't expecting.
The movies were never what I'd call pro-woman being as they were full of overly endowed pin-up girls fawning over Bond. Not exactly strong feminine role-models, but the movies are silly and it's largely harmless. Casino Royale actually strays into genuine woman hating which isn't something I expected. There is even profligate mention of women as "bitches."
Every way that Bond is broken is the fault of a woman, and that is the story of Casino Royale. This book is the set up for the entire series. It explains Bond's drive and his focus. It gives him a reason to do what he does. While it makes Bond a more three dimensional character, it also makes him much less likable.
While I'll probably get around to reading the rest of the series, this is a case where I think the movies are better.
People in my generation grew up knowing who James Bond is. He was part of the cultural fabric in the United States despite being a very British character. So when I picked up Casino Royale, the first of Fleming's Bond series, I thought I knew what to expect.
I was expecting the calm sophisticated smooth operator of the movies. Someone dashing and in charge. I was expecting the James Bond of the movies. Fleming's Bond, as written, does superficially resemble the movie Bond: physically attractive, calm under stress, drinks gin cocktails. However, there's a misogynistic streak in the books that I wasn't expecting.
The movies were never what I'd call pro-woman being as they were full of overly endowed pin-up girls fawning over Bond. Not exactly strong feminine role-models, but the movies are silly and it's largely harmless. Casino Royale actually strays into genuine woman hating which isn't something I expected. There is even profligate mention of women as "bitches."
Every way that Bond is broken is the fault of a woman, and that is the story of Casino Royale. This book is the set up for the entire series. It explains Bond's drive and his focus. It gives him a reason to do what he does. While it makes Bond a more three dimensional character, it also makes him much less likable.
While I'll probably get around to reading the rest of the series, this is a case where I think the movies are better.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Regional Differences
Between Ellsworth, Maine and Utica, New York is a veritable maze of toll roads. The tolls range between $0.25 and $6.10. A quick scan of the toll cards tells me that there are ways of racking up more than $10 at a time on some of these roads. This must be a New England thing.
It's not that toll roads don't exist in the Midwest or the South East. They do. There's the Ohio turnpike for one and an easily avoided $0.50 toll on GA 400 in Atlanta. I'm sure there must be others. However, in New England, it seems possibly to hop directly from one toll road to the next. Pulling out the wallet and digging for change is as much a feature of the trip as lobster rolls and motels.
At one point we even follow signs for a rest stop off of a non-toll highway which landed us on toll road that we left (after paying the toll). At this rest stop was a full-service gas station. I didn't even know these things existed anymore. After getting gassed up and tipping the attendant, we paid the toll again to get back on the road that we had just left. Only somehow during the time we spent at the gas station, the road that had not been a toll road, now was a toll road.
Thus is the joy of travel in New England.
It's not that toll roads don't exist in the Midwest or the South East. They do. There's the Ohio turnpike for one and an easily avoided $0.50 toll on GA 400 in Atlanta. I'm sure there must be others. However, in New England, it seems possibly to hop directly from one toll road to the next. Pulling out the wallet and digging for change is as much a feature of the trip as lobster rolls and motels.
At one point we even follow signs for a rest stop off of a non-toll highway which landed us on toll road that we left (after paying the toll). At this rest stop was a full-service gas station. I didn't even know these things existed anymore. After getting gassed up and tipping the attendant, we paid the toll again to get back on the road that we had just left. Only somehow during the time we spent at the gas station, the road that had not been a toll road, now was a toll road.
Thus is the joy of travel in New England.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
17. Timbuktu
by Paul Auster
Being a big reader, I find it a somewhat common phenomenon to get books handed to me on loan by various people in my life. As a general rule, I tend to put other things on hold and read them as soon as I can get to them. Otherwise I end up with a lot of books floating around that I know don't belong to me but I can't remember who they belong to. (If I have any of your books hostage, dear readers, please let me know and I'll organize a release and the first possible opportunity.)
This book came to me by way of my mother and, since she admonished me against walking off with it, I settled down and read it almost immediately. I freely admit that I tend to take a dim view of animal POVs (Point of View) outside of kids books. Generally, animal POVs end up overly sentimental and saccharine. No matter how smart a pooch is, it doesn't understand string theory or the content of Paul's letters. It can't think as abstractly as we do and, while I know my cats love me in their own furry little ways, I don't make the mistake of thinking they wouldn't abandon me for the promise of a kitty treat next Tuesday. Trying to write a book from an animal's POV is extraordinarily difficult to pull off.
So, when I realized that the book my mother handed me was completely in doggy POV, I sighed a little on the inside and resolved to slog through it for my Mom's sake. Paul Auster was already on my greater list of authors to eventually check out anyway.
Given my views, I cannot express how shocked I was to enjoy Timbuktu. Auster made his protagonist, Mr. Bones, a believable doggy character while still sympathetic. While I don't necessarily like how the story ends I have to concede that it's a good ending. Mr. Bones's first owner is a guy named Willy. Willy is not what one would call mentally stable. In fact, at a guess, I'd say he's a manic depressive with extreme paranoid tendencies. However, the reader gets to see Willy through the filter of Mr. Bones's eyes. Although often bewildered by Willy, Mr. Bones was devoted in a way that only a dog could be. When Willy dies, Mr. Bones tries to adjust to a world without his protector.
It's a sweet story of devotion that stops just shy of cavity land. Auster pulled off the pooch-centric POV with aplomb. I remain an official unfan of the ending but the story as a whole is worth a read.
Being a big reader, I find it a somewhat common phenomenon to get books handed to me on loan by various people in my life. As a general rule, I tend to put other things on hold and read them as soon as I can get to them. Otherwise I end up with a lot of books floating around that I know don't belong to me but I can't remember who they belong to. (If I have any of your books hostage, dear readers, please let me know and I'll organize a release and the first possible opportunity.)
This book came to me by way of my mother and, since she admonished me against walking off with it, I settled down and read it almost immediately. I freely admit that I tend to take a dim view of animal POVs (Point of View) outside of kids books. Generally, animal POVs end up overly sentimental and saccharine. No matter how smart a pooch is, it doesn't understand string theory or the content of Paul's letters. It can't think as abstractly as we do and, while I know my cats love me in their own furry little ways, I don't make the mistake of thinking they wouldn't abandon me for the promise of a kitty treat next Tuesday. Trying to write a book from an animal's POV is extraordinarily difficult to pull off.
So, when I realized that the book my mother handed me was completely in doggy POV, I sighed a little on the inside and resolved to slog through it for my Mom's sake. Paul Auster was already on my greater list of authors to eventually check out anyway.
Given my views, I cannot express how shocked I was to enjoy Timbuktu. Auster made his protagonist, Mr. Bones, a believable doggy character while still sympathetic. While I don't necessarily like how the story ends I have to concede that it's a good ending. Mr. Bones's first owner is a guy named Willy. Willy is not what one would call mentally stable. In fact, at a guess, I'd say he's a manic depressive with extreme paranoid tendencies. However, the reader gets to see Willy through the filter of Mr. Bones's eyes. Although often bewildered by Willy, Mr. Bones was devoted in a way that only a dog could be. When Willy dies, Mr. Bones tries to adjust to a world without his protector.
It's a sweet story of devotion that stops just shy of cavity land. Auster pulled off the pooch-centric POV with aplomb. I remain an official unfan of the ending but the story as a whole is worth a read.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
16. Her Fearful Symmetry
by Audrey Niffenegger
Niffenegger exploded into the literature scene with her first novel The Time Traveler's Wife which my dad lent me after he read it himself. This first novel was remarkable but not for the reasons that many people thought. The idea was not terribly unique nor was the specific premise a new take on it. What it was was a story that was told on its own terms. The author got out of the way and was a vehicle for a story that was both a tragedy and a representation of human mortality. Its strangeness was its beauty and it ended the only way it could. The exquisiteness of the emotion of the characters were never forced and I don't know a single person who read the book and had a single negative thing to say about it.
That's a rare thing. We humans love to criticize things.
It's not the kind of thing that is easy to follow up. In fact, I will even go so far as to say that it is impossible to follow it up. The Time Traveler's Wife is a masterpiece of literature. So, when Her Fearful Symmetry was published, I expected the backlash that the book received. It's not as good as her first novel. It's just not. However, it does not deserve the panning its received by many readers.
Here is the book I would have expected to see from Niffenegger first and if it had been published first, it would probably have been received well. Is it flawed? Absolutely, but not as badly as so many think.
Her Fearful Symmetry focuses on the sometimes eerie relationship between identical twins. It's clear from the novel that Niffenegger had a clear vision of her six main characters and the central secret behind their sometimes bizarre interactions. It's also pretty clear that Niffenegger had difficulty finding an ending. The resolution that she provides does feel forced, as many people noted. It's not a horrible ending, it's just not the poetic beauty her readers came to expect after first book.
However, the characters are wonderful and enticing. Even though they have faults, I genuinely liked them all. I watched the tragedy build and it felt right that these people would set themselves up like that. While I agree the story took a wrong turn about two thirds through, Niffenegger did not make the mistake of trying to 'save' her characters from themselves. If anything, she envisioned a resolution that was even more grim then it needed to be. This, I feel, is a much more forgivable error to make.
Despite the flaws, this is a book well worth reading.
Niffenegger exploded into the literature scene with her first novel The Time Traveler's Wife which my dad lent me after he read it himself. This first novel was remarkable but not for the reasons that many people thought. The idea was not terribly unique nor was the specific premise a new take on it. What it was was a story that was told on its own terms. The author got out of the way and was a vehicle for a story that was both a tragedy and a representation of human mortality. Its strangeness was its beauty and it ended the only way it could. The exquisiteness of the emotion of the characters were never forced and I don't know a single person who read the book and had a single negative thing to say about it.
That's a rare thing. We humans love to criticize things.
It's not the kind of thing that is easy to follow up. In fact, I will even go so far as to say that it is impossible to follow it up. The Time Traveler's Wife is a masterpiece of literature. So, when Her Fearful Symmetry was published, I expected the backlash that the book received. It's not as good as her first novel. It's just not. However, it does not deserve the panning its received by many readers.
Here is the book I would have expected to see from Niffenegger first and if it had been published first, it would probably have been received well. Is it flawed? Absolutely, but not as badly as so many think.
Her Fearful Symmetry focuses on the sometimes eerie relationship between identical twins. It's clear from the novel that Niffenegger had a clear vision of her six main characters and the central secret behind their sometimes bizarre interactions. It's also pretty clear that Niffenegger had difficulty finding an ending. The resolution that she provides does feel forced, as many people noted. It's not a horrible ending, it's just not the poetic beauty her readers came to expect after first book.
However, the characters are wonderful and enticing. Even though they have faults, I genuinely liked them all. I watched the tragedy build and it felt right that these people would set themselves up like that. While I agree the story took a wrong turn about two thirds through, Niffenegger did not make the mistake of trying to 'save' her characters from themselves. If anything, she envisioned a resolution that was even more grim then it needed to be. This, I feel, is a much more forgivable error to make.
Despite the flaws, this is a book well worth reading.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
The Brief and Exciting Life of Chickens
She visited Maine every summer with her husband and hoped to miss the torture of black fly season. This summer was no different and as she pulled into her dad's driveway she saw the new chicken hutch he'd built for the chicks. The old hens were muttering and clucking in their coop like old ladies gossiping at a church social.
After hugs and hellos they walked around the house to see the chicks who were already past that puff ball stage. Some of them had rudimentary combs and they pressed against the door chirping excitedly. There was a flat board propped against the bottom of the door and Dad explained about one of the chicks going missing. The plywood floor sagged slightly in the middle which created a gap at the bottom of the door. The chicks took turns sticking their heads through the gap as they watched. Probably it got out through the gap and wandered into the woods that edged up to the house. All sorts of things lived in those woods and many of them happy to make a chicken dinner among the dense foliage.
Two nights later she woke to the sounds of excited chirps. The guest bedroom had a window over looking the hutch and the sounds drifted through the cracked window. Usually they were quiet at night and the thought crossed her mind that perhaps she should go downstairs and have a look. The warmth of the bed was comfortable and the idea of stepping out into the cool evening air didn't appeal. After a few moments the chicks quieted down and she drifted back to sleep.
"Something got at one of the chicks," Dad said the next morning while she sat at the kitchen table blearily enjoying a cup of coffee.
"Oh," she said thinking about the excited chirping.
"Yeah," he said taking a sip from his coffee cup.
The next night she woke again to the sounds of excitable poultry. It was 1:30 and the sounds crescendoed in volume. The green light of the digital clock still left her fumbling in the dark for her reading clip lamp. The LED light, bright though it was only reflected off the screen and obscuring the ground below. The chirping was punctuated by a squawk and she padded downstairs in bare feet. Her shoes were by the back door and she turned on the back light to help her pick a path around the side of the house. The pool of light ended at the back corner of house and the hutch was just a dark shape among a host of dark shapes. That reading light would be useful now if she hadn't left it in the bed room. The birds chirped more sedately now and every thing seem still. Was it really necessary to go see.
Maine seems to foster a quality of darkness more palpable than that found in Atlanta. It was something that a person waded through and right now, for her, that hutch was in the middle of the ocean. She looked back at the back door, things seemed quiet, whatever it was was over now. The chicks flapped around in the hutch. When she turned back to peer into the darkness something was different. A shape missing in the darkness. Something thrashed through the underbrush. She waded into the darkness and peered at the ground around the hutch. Dark feathered globs littered the lighter colored ground and the board at the base of the hutch was pulled aside.
She turned and hurried back inside and up the stairs. She stopped outside her fathers room. "Somethings after the chicks," she said in what passed for a normal voice after all-night horror movie fests. Lucky light sleeping was a family trait. Her dad was up and down the stairs within seconds. Together they went out and surveyed the ground. There was blood on the ground and long mangled wing feathers. The remaining chicks were quiet now so they replaced the board and went back indoors.
The bed was inviting and the predator, whatever it was, probably wouldn't strike again. Still, even though she knew this, sleep was elusive. She lay in the dark and listened to the normal night sounds and eventually she drifted off.
She was awake, suddenly. Why was unclear. She had the sense of a noise. Something loud and brief. The clock said 3:30 and she sat in the darkness waiting. The chicks were moving around outside but were otherwise silent. She listened and waited for her heartbeat to slow. It was a dream, not surprising given the earlier events. Her head sank into the pillow and she resolutely closed her eyes. There was a loud squawk and the sounds of feathered bodies flapping in the hutch. She sat up and listened. Behind the panicked sound of chicks was something else.
This time she remembered to grab the reading lamp on the way downstairs. She hurried out to the hutch plunging into the darkness with the inadequate LED lamp providing a sense of security. Something crashed away into the woods. There were three feathered corpse in front of the hutch. One was laying next to its dismembered head. The crashing stopped and she froze in front of the hutch.
*and this stuff actually happens in Maine, it's no wonder so many horror writers are based here*
After hugs and hellos they walked around the house to see the chicks who were already past that puff ball stage. Some of them had rudimentary combs and they pressed against the door chirping excitedly. There was a flat board propped against the bottom of the door and Dad explained about one of the chicks going missing. The plywood floor sagged slightly in the middle which created a gap at the bottom of the door. The chicks took turns sticking their heads through the gap as they watched. Probably it got out through the gap and wandered into the woods that edged up to the house. All sorts of things lived in those woods and many of them happy to make a chicken dinner among the dense foliage.
Two nights later she woke to the sounds of excited chirps. The guest bedroom had a window over looking the hutch and the sounds drifted through the cracked window. Usually they were quiet at night and the thought crossed her mind that perhaps she should go downstairs and have a look. The warmth of the bed was comfortable and the idea of stepping out into the cool evening air didn't appeal. After a few moments the chicks quieted down and she drifted back to sleep.
"Something got at one of the chicks," Dad said the next morning while she sat at the kitchen table blearily enjoying a cup of coffee.
"Oh," she said thinking about the excited chirping.
"Yeah," he said taking a sip from his coffee cup.
The next night she woke again to the sounds of excitable poultry. It was 1:30 and the sounds crescendoed in volume. The green light of the digital clock still left her fumbling in the dark for her reading clip lamp. The LED light, bright though it was only reflected off the screen and obscuring the ground below. The chirping was punctuated by a squawk and she padded downstairs in bare feet. Her shoes were by the back door and she turned on the back light to help her pick a path around the side of the house. The pool of light ended at the back corner of house and the hutch was just a dark shape among a host of dark shapes. That reading light would be useful now if she hadn't left it in the bed room. The birds chirped more sedately now and every thing seem still. Was it really necessary to go see.
Maine seems to foster a quality of darkness more palpable than that found in Atlanta. It was something that a person waded through and right now, for her, that hutch was in the middle of the ocean. She looked back at the back door, things seemed quiet, whatever it was was over now. The chicks flapped around in the hutch. When she turned back to peer into the darkness something was different. A shape missing in the darkness. Something thrashed through the underbrush. She waded into the darkness and peered at the ground around the hutch. Dark feathered globs littered the lighter colored ground and the board at the base of the hutch was pulled aside.
She turned and hurried back inside and up the stairs. She stopped outside her fathers room. "Somethings after the chicks," she said in what passed for a normal voice after all-night horror movie fests. Lucky light sleeping was a family trait. Her dad was up and down the stairs within seconds. Together they went out and surveyed the ground. There was blood on the ground and long mangled wing feathers. The remaining chicks were quiet now so they replaced the board and went back indoors.
The bed was inviting and the predator, whatever it was, probably wouldn't strike again. Still, even though she knew this, sleep was elusive. She lay in the dark and listened to the normal night sounds and eventually she drifted off.
She was awake, suddenly. Why was unclear. She had the sense of a noise. Something loud and brief. The clock said 3:30 and she sat in the darkness waiting. The chicks were moving around outside but were otherwise silent. She listened and waited for her heartbeat to slow. It was a dream, not surprising given the earlier events. Her head sank into the pillow and she resolutely closed her eyes. There was a loud squawk and the sounds of feathered bodies flapping in the hutch. She sat up and listened. Behind the panicked sound of chicks was something else.
This time she remembered to grab the reading lamp on the way downstairs. She hurried out to the hutch plunging into the darkness with the inadequate LED lamp providing a sense of security. Something crashed away into the woods. There were three feathered corpse in front of the hutch. One was laying next to its dismembered head. The crashing stopped and she froze in front of the hutch.
*and this stuff actually happens in Maine, it's no wonder so many horror writers are based here*
Sunday, June 26, 2011
15. I'm A Stranger Here Myself
by Bill Bryson
Bill Bryson is enough of a phenomenon that it seems like I should have read one of his books before now. After all he has, nearly singlehandedly, repopularized travel writing, and I love traveling. Yet somehow there have always been other things to read, and, when I did pick his books up, I found myself not in the mood for them. It wasn't him, it was me.
This attempt was more successful and I managed to immerse in this collection of short essays Bryson wrote for the London Times about American culture. I started the book somewhere in Virginia and spent most of the rest of the trip to Maine happily NIB (nose in book). Each of the essays is about three pages long and they cover a mass of eclectic topics ranging from the fate of the traditional American diner to the nature of convenience in American culture. They are quick, pithy, and full of a charming self-deprecating humor. If the rest of Bryson's books are of a similar caliber, I will happily plough through them as well.
Bill Bryson is enough of a phenomenon that it seems like I should have read one of his books before now. After all he has, nearly singlehandedly, repopularized travel writing, and I love traveling. Yet somehow there have always been other things to read, and, when I did pick his books up, I found myself not in the mood for them. It wasn't him, it was me.
This attempt was more successful and I managed to immerse in this collection of short essays Bryson wrote for the London Times about American culture. I started the book somewhere in Virginia and spent most of the rest of the trip to Maine happily NIB (nose in book). Each of the essays is about three pages long and they cover a mass of eclectic topics ranging from the fate of the traditional American diner to the nature of convenience in American culture. They are quick, pithy, and full of a charming self-deprecating humor. If the rest of Bryson's books are of a similar caliber, I will happily plough through them as well.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
14. The Twits
by Roald Dahl
A week or so ago, I expressed a certain set of expectations from Dahl. Specifically, a certain sense that a proper Dahl story should have a dark almost wicked side to it. While this quality was distressingly absent in Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Twits has it in spades.
The Twits is the story of two absolutely awful old stinky people who delight in tricking each other. It's a kids book version of a dysfunctional marriage. Clearly neither of these old stinky mean people make good protagonists, so we get monkeys. It's a kids book and kids like monkeys. So, this family of monkeys, who are captives of the dastardly Twits, need to escape in a clever monkey-like manner. Which they do.
On another note, I've begun to notice a theme in Dahl's kid material: all the villains have woefully bad personal hygiene. Dahl doesn't just say these characters have stinky breath, he goes to the lengths of describing moldy bits of cheese and slimy decaying sardines trapped in facial hair. I know kids like gross things but ew.
A week or so ago, I expressed a certain set of expectations from Dahl. Specifically, a certain sense that a proper Dahl story should have a dark almost wicked side to it. While this quality was distressingly absent in Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Twits has it in spades.
The Twits is the story of two absolutely awful old stinky people who delight in tricking each other. It's a kids book version of a dysfunctional marriage. Clearly neither of these old stinky mean people make good protagonists, so we get monkeys. It's a kids book and kids like monkeys. So, this family of monkeys, who are captives of the dastardly Twits, need to escape in a clever monkey-like manner. Which they do.
On another note, I've begun to notice a theme in Dahl's kid material: all the villains have woefully bad personal hygiene. Dahl doesn't just say these characters have stinky breath, he goes to the lengths of describing moldy bits of cheese and slimy decaying sardines trapped in facial hair. I know kids like gross things but ew.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Hold the Mayo
I have never understood people's love affair with mayonnaise. Even from a very young age I can remember not liking it. I get that there must be some redeeming qualities to it but a sandwich slathered with it just turns my stomach, and don't get me started on what the dutch do to perfectly good french fries.
My distaste stems from two things. One: it's on and in everything and I genuinely don't care for the taste, in small doses I can get by it but people tend to slather it on with a putty knife. Two: when I eat it my throat gets itchy and I start having coughing fits. Whether this is a result of a genuine allergy or a psycho-somatic response is up it the air. Regardless I've long since been in the habit of ordering things without mayo even if I think they shouldn't have mayo anyway. "Excuse me waiter, is that a thin layer of mayo in between the meets and noodles in my lasagne?" I get a lot of strange looks by waitstaff. What really get's my goat about it, is that any other condiment gets listed in food descriptions. I can get a burger that is described as being layered with a two kinds of cheese, caramelized onions, and a peppy Dijon mustard. I think to myself a ha! there are condiments in the description and nary a mention of mayo, it must be safe. I order it thinking my life charmed, and lo and behold, when it comes it's not only all mayo-ed up, there are thick layers of the goo on each piece of bread the thickness of groat in a brick wall and, just in case I don't have enough, there's a small tub of the stuff on the side.
The gods are truly laughing at me. Is it too much to ask Lord? I just want a ham sandwich, hold the mayo. Amen.
My distaste stems from two things. One: it's on and in everything and I genuinely don't care for the taste, in small doses I can get by it but people tend to slather it on with a putty knife. Two: when I eat it my throat gets itchy and I start having coughing fits. Whether this is a result of a genuine allergy or a psycho-somatic response is up it the air. Regardless I've long since been in the habit of ordering things without mayo even if I think they shouldn't have mayo anyway. "Excuse me waiter, is that a thin layer of mayo in between the meets and noodles in my lasagne?" I get a lot of strange looks by waitstaff. What really get's my goat about it, is that any other condiment gets listed in food descriptions. I can get a burger that is described as being layered with a two kinds of cheese, caramelized onions, and a peppy Dijon mustard. I think to myself a ha! there are condiments in the description and nary a mention of mayo, it must be safe. I order it thinking my life charmed, and lo and behold, when it comes it's not only all mayo-ed up, there are thick layers of the goo on each piece of bread the thickness of groat in a brick wall and, just in case I don't have enough, there's a small tub of the stuff on the side.
The gods are truly laughing at me. Is it too much to ask Lord? I just want a ham sandwich, hold the mayo. Amen.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
13. Around the World in Eighty Days
by Jules Verne
I often forget that I'm reading Verne in translation. His big three novels are so a part of the cultural fabric that I tend to think of him as British. I've read Around the World before a few years back and found it oddly relevant even though it was written during the Victorian period. It seems like technology is developing and replacing itself at an exponential rate. The world feels small. I imagine that the Victorians had a similar feeling. Between rampant empire building and the advances of the Industrial Revolution, i.e. the railroad, people could move around at a speed never possible before.
The story of a British gentleman racing around the world to satisfy a bet and en route saving a lovely exotic young woman from a tragic death at the hands of 'scary heathens' sounds like the plot of a summer adventure movie. It's short and it's fun. The main character Phileas Fogg is saved from two-dimensionality by well crafted secondary characters. All and all, well deserving of its status as a 'classic.'
I often forget that I'm reading Verne in translation. His big three novels are so a part of the cultural fabric that I tend to think of him as British. I've read Around the World before a few years back and found it oddly relevant even though it was written during the Victorian period. It seems like technology is developing and replacing itself at an exponential rate. The world feels small. I imagine that the Victorians had a similar feeling. Between rampant empire building and the advances of the Industrial Revolution, i.e. the railroad, people could move around at a speed never possible before.
The story of a British gentleman racing around the world to satisfy a bet and en route saving a lovely exotic young woman from a tragic death at the hands of 'scary heathens' sounds like the plot of a summer adventure movie. It's short and it's fun. The main character Phileas Fogg is saved from two-dimensionality by well crafted secondary characters. All and all, well deserving of its status as a 'classic.'
Saturday, June 18, 2011
12. Fool
by Christopher Moore
Whenever I pick up a Christopher Moore novel and show it to my husband, he invariably says, "Haven't you read that before?" In fact, of his dozen or so novels, I had previously read only two. Apparently I am always so enthusiastic when reading a Moore novel that Ryan got the idea I was a big Moore fan (Moorian? Moorista? Mooron? hmmmmm.) I do like Moore's sense of humor and his novels are full to the brim with it. I also like that he tends to pick interesting projects. When vampire books were in vogue, for example, he wrote You Suck which was a tongue in cheek version of a vampire novel.
Fool, on the other hand, is an adaptation of Shakespeare's "King Lear" told from the point of view of Lear's Fool, Pocket. The very first page is a content warning written by the author himself cautioning the reader that the contents are full of explicit language and bawdiness. The contents live up to the warning, but not in a gratuitous way. A constant stream of lewd innuendo interspersed with witty sarcastic dialog and painfully tragic moments. I spent a large portion of the recent trip to Mississippi in the passenger seat giggling. I don't know how close Moore's tale is to the original Shakespeare since I've never read it. However, this was great fun despite the tragic events throughout and became more of a tragi-comedy. I heartily recommend this for Shakespeare buffs, as long as they have a sense of humor.
Whenever I pick up a Christopher Moore novel and show it to my husband, he invariably says, "Haven't you read that before?" In fact, of his dozen or so novels, I had previously read only two. Apparently I am always so enthusiastic when reading a Moore novel that Ryan got the idea I was a big Moore fan (Moorian? Moorista? Mooron? hmmmmm.) I do like Moore's sense of humor and his novels are full to the brim with it. I also like that he tends to pick interesting projects. When vampire books were in vogue, for example, he wrote You Suck which was a tongue in cheek version of a vampire novel.
Fool, on the other hand, is an adaptation of Shakespeare's "King Lear" told from the point of view of Lear's Fool, Pocket. The very first page is a content warning written by the author himself cautioning the reader that the contents are full of explicit language and bawdiness. The contents live up to the warning, but not in a gratuitous way. A constant stream of lewd innuendo interspersed with witty sarcastic dialog and painfully tragic moments. I spent a large portion of the recent trip to Mississippi in the passenger seat giggling. I don't know how close Moore's tale is to the original Shakespeare since I've never read it. However, this was great fun despite the tragic events throughout and became more of a tragi-comedy. I heartily recommend this for Shakespeare buffs, as long as they have a sense of humor.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
B.B. King & More Books
I love road trips. In the age of rapid transport jetting from location to location tuned out behind an ipod, I love the slower pace of car and interstate. Every new place is full of potential and possibility. My husband always finds a yellow pages, where ever we are, and looks up all the used cd places in the area. His passion for music is such that even when in Mississippi for a BB King concert, he pauses to look up all the used music places. So it is from him that I learned to find all the used bookstores in a new area.
The B.B. King concert was hosted at the New Moon Casino in Choctaw Mississippi. They converted the entire casino floor into a concert venue and I have to say the seats were much more comfortable than most concerts. For 85 years old, B.B. is in great shape and still has a great voice. Bobby Bland was there watching the concert from the stage and B.B. called him over to sing with him. And they sat there talked about old times and tried to figure out something to sing. That took so long that by the time B.B. gave up finding something, most of the crowd was upset and the concert was over. Lots of people stormed out saying what crap that it was and bemoaning the songs they didn't hear. Everyone was disappointed. I think though, that I got to see something so rare. I got to see two blues legends just talking to each other. They weren't performing, not really. They were talking about things that I can't even imagine because I'm too young. They talked about Memphis in the 50s and the first black police officer. They talked about getting in trouble and getting out of trouble. They talked about a time past but still greatly a part of the cultural fabric. And because I got to see it, I got to experience it for just a little while. So, while it wasn't what I walked in the door expected, I wasn't disappointed walking out.
The next day, Ryan and I raided the used bookstores and cd stores of Meridian and Tuscaloosa. Tuscaloosa got hit hard by tornadoes and we drove ride through the disaster zone. It's amazing the damage a tornado can do. We saw buildings toppled and trees snapped like matchsticks on our way. There is only one used bookstore and one used cd store in Tuscaloosa as far we could tell. They are in the same shopping center. The bookstore was tiny but had a bizarrely good selection. Below is the inventory of my haul both from there and from the local Books-a-Million.
The B.B. King concert was hosted at the New Moon Casino in Choctaw Mississippi. They converted the entire casino floor into a concert venue and I have to say the seats were much more comfortable than most concerts. For 85 years old, B.B. is in great shape and still has a great voice. Bobby Bland was there watching the concert from the stage and B.B. called him over to sing with him. And they sat there talked about old times and tried to figure out something to sing. That took so long that by the time B.B. gave up finding something, most of the crowd was upset and the concert was over. Lots of people stormed out saying what crap that it was and bemoaning the songs they didn't hear. Everyone was disappointed. I think though, that I got to see something so rare. I got to see two blues legends just talking to each other. They weren't performing, not really. They were talking about things that I can't even imagine because I'm too young. They talked about Memphis in the 50s and the first black police officer. They talked about getting in trouble and getting out of trouble. They talked about a time past but still greatly a part of the cultural fabric. And because I got to see it, I got to experience it for just a little while. So, while it wasn't what I walked in the door expected, I wasn't disappointed walking out.
The next day, Ryan and I raided the used bookstores and cd stores of Meridian and Tuscaloosa. Tuscaloosa got hit hard by tornadoes and we drove ride through the disaster zone. It's amazing the damage a tornado can do. We saw buildings toppled and trees snapped like matchsticks on our way. There is only one used bookstore and one used cd store in Tuscaloosa as far we could tell. They are in the same shopping center. The bookstore was tiny but had a bizarrely good selection. Below is the inventory of my haul both from there and from the local Books-a-Million.
- Trader by Charles de Lint
- House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus III
- The Secrets of a Fire King: Stories by Kim Edwards
- From Russia, With Love by Ian Fleming
- The Spy Who Loved Me by Ian Fleming
- Diamonds Are Forever by Ian Fleming
- Casino Royale by Ian Fleming
- Moonraker by Ian Fleming
- Thunderball by Ian Fleming
- You Only Live Twice by Ian Fleming
- Rum Punch by Elmore Leonard
- Freaky Deaky by Elmore Leonard
- Bad Traffic by Simon Lewis
- Songs for the Butcher's Daughter by Peter Manseau
- Rumpole and the Reign of Terror by John Mortimer
- Of Bees and Mist by Erick Setiawan
- The Twentieth Wife by Indu Sundaresan
- Slumdog Millionaire by Vikas Swarup
- The Corpse Walker by Liao Yiwu
- Queens Own Fool by Jane Yolen & Robert J. Harris
Sunday, June 12, 2011
11. Florida Road Kill
by Tim Dorsey
I've often wondered what it's like in the head of someone with ADHD. After reading this book, I'm pretty sure I have a good idea of it now. Dorsey manages to keep a dozen characters bouncing in a fast paced murder caper and it's a lot like reading a Guy Richie movie. All these seemingly unrelated characters come together like a row of dominoes by the last chapter in a way that seems natural.
A trio of mentally unstable ex-con con-artists force a dishonest dentist into an insurance scam. When the money goes missing, it starts murderous road trip from Tampa to Key West. Two essentially nice guys get unwittingly tied up in the fall out. Along the way, there is a Rube Goldberg style murder, murder using a can of Fix-a-Flat as a murder weapon, and a macaw blown through a plate glass window by a cannon.
While the manic fast pace of the book is off-putting to start, within 50 pages it hits a groove. Practically every character manages to kill some other character by the end and many of them are endearingly loathsome. The twists and turns are engaging and even though it ends on a cliff-hanger, it doesn't feel like a cheat. My brain needs a break but I'll be picking the sequel, Hammerhead Motel soon.
I've often wondered what it's like in the head of someone with ADHD. After reading this book, I'm pretty sure I have a good idea of it now. Dorsey manages to keep a dozen characters bouncing in a fast paced murder caper and it's a lot like reading a Guy Richie movie. All these seemingly unrelated characters come together like a row of dominoes by the last chapter in a way that seems natural.
A trio of mentally unstable ex-con con-artists force a dishonest dentist into an insurance scam. When the money goes missing, it starts murderous road trip from Tampa to Key West. Two essentially nice guys get unwittingly tied up in the fall out. Along the way, there is a Rube Goldberg style murder, murder using a can of Fix-a-Flat as a murder weapon, and a macaw blown through a plate glass window by a cannon.
While the manic fast pace of the book is off-putting to start, within 50 pages it hits a groove. Practically every character manages to kill some other character by the end and many of them are endearingly loathsome. The twists and turns are engaging and even though it ends on a cliff-hanger, it doesn't feel like a cheat. My brain needs a break but I'll be picking the sequel, Hammerhead Motel soon.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
10. Fantastic Mr. Fox
by Roald Dahl
Being a fan of Dahl means that I've come to expect certain things from his stories. I expect excellent descriptions, sinister characters, and delightful twists. It is possible that my expectations from Dahl are much higher than they would be for most other writers.
What I don't expect from Dahl is a straight forward kid's book. I just don't. So when I read Fantastic Mr. Fox I was a little disappointed. As a kid's book, it's fine. Crafty Mr. Fox outsmarts the despicable mean old farmers with bad personal hygiene. I expected more though.
The characters were cute and it's a quick little read. Good book for a beginning reader, and fun illustrations.
Being a fan of Dahl means that I've come to expect certain things from his stories. I expect excellent descriptions, sinister characters, and delightful twists. It is possible that my expectations from Dahl are much higher than they would be for most other writers.
What I don't expect from Dahl is a straight forward kid's book. I just don't. So when I read Fantastic Mr. Fox I was a little disappointed. As a kid's book, it's fine. Crafty Mr. Fox outsmarts the despicable mean old farmers with bad personal hygiene. I expected more though.
The characters were cute and it's a quick little read. Good book for a beginning reader, and fun illustrations.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Commitments
This is a blog continually in transition. I started the original version in 2005 when I was working through a reading challenge with a couple of coworkers. I was a librarian at the time so I was surrounded by people who had reading habits every bit a voracious as my own. That initial iteration was probably the most successful run I had with the blog. I think partly that was because it was a new idea and I think partly it was because I was surrounded by big readers. Even though I work at a school now, I am the undisputed biggest reader of the campus. Talking books just isn't as much fun as it used to be. Inevitably, I end up talking people into the glassy eye stage.
I've restarted the blog a half dozen times now and through each iteration, except this one, I've had some sort of reading goal usually something like 200 books a year. Even though I probably hit the low hundreds each of those years, I got nowhere near that many reviews written. Part of it is time. When I'm teaching, time to do anything else is sparse. Part of it is the sense that I'm speaking into the void. I love reading for its own sake but having an actual dialog with other book lovers would be nice. I write my reviews and there is some personal value in that, but I miss working with fellow book nerds.
So, this time, instead of a reading goal, I have a posting goal. The inconsistency of my previous blogs mean that even if some random person tripped across my blog, they probably wouldn't keep reading it through my dry spells. The goal then is to post three times a week: Saturday and Sunday for book reviews and Wednesdays as a hodgepodge. If I'm lucky, maybe we'll get some dialog going.
I've restarted the blog a half dozen times now and through each iteration, except this one, I've had some sort of reading goal usually something like 200 books a year. Even though I probably hit the low hundreds each of those years, I got nowhere near that many reviews written. Part of it is time. When I'm teaching, time to do anything else is sparse. Part of it is the sense that I'm speaking into the void. I love reading for its own sake but having an actual dialog with other book lovers would be nice. I write my reviews and there is some personal value in that, but I miss working with fellow book nerds.
So, this time, instead of a reading goal, I have a posting goal. The inconsistency of my previous blogs mean that even if some random person tripped across my blog, they probably wouldn't keep reading it through my dry spells. The goal then is to post three times a week: Saturday and Sunday for book reviews and Wednesdays as a hodgepodge. If I'm lucky, maybe we'll get some dialog going.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
9. Godmother: The Secret Cinderella Story
by Carolyn Turgeon
It is rare for me to post a mostly negative review of a book and I think there two reasons for this. 1. If a book is bad, I generally won't finish it and I don't tend to review books I haven't finished. I don't think it's fair. 2. I don't like being overly critical of people's babies. Any book, outside of ghostwritten pulp, is someone's heart and soul poured out on paper and looking for approval. While I have no problem pointing out flaws, I usually try to balance it with enough positives that it doesn't feel like a slaughter. I'm not going to be able to do that this time, and I'm very sorry Ms. Turgeon.
Godmother presents itself initially as a fractured fairytale centered around the Cinderella story. The premise is that instead of getting Cinderella to the ball, the fairy godmother, Lil in this case, took her place. In response to this grave offense, Lil is cast out of the fairy world to live as a human which she does. She lives her life, works in a used bookshop, gets old just like any other human. In fact, the only thing that marks her as more than human is a pair of gigantic white feathered wings that she hides by tying them down to her back with bandages. As far as a premise goes, it's not bad. Veronica and George, the two main side characters, are pretty good. They are a little two dimensional, maybe, but it is a close first person point of view to Lil so that is forgivable. The end even could be a nice, if tragic, twist.
So what's so awful about this book? It's the structure and the writing. Structurally, Turgeon told the story on two timelines. The first is far in the past when Lil was still a fairy and it retells Cinderella from her point of view. The second timeline is Lil as an old (mostly) human woman who finds the opportunity to redeem herself by setting up George and Veronica as a modern version of Prince Charming and Cinderella. Each chapter starts in the fairytale and switches midway through to the modern. This is not an unusual technique, but for it to work well, there needs to be a way to tie the two sections in each chapter together. There needs to be either a plot link or some thematic link between to two segments that is a reason for the juxtaposition. While there were a couple of places the two plot lines did indeed meet up, most of the time there was no discernible link between the two sections which made the transitions jarring and often irritating. There were several segments of the fairytale plot line that didn't feel necessary and were, I suspect, written simply to satisfy the format.
The writing style was clearly trying for the ethereal voice of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. However, the POV was so firmly tied to Lil that it bogged down badly in her rather obsessive and circular thoughts. Instead of being lyrical, it was tedious. It's hard to do a first person narrative well because the only things the reader can know are the things the protagonist knows. This is very limiting for an author because it is often convenient to pull back and deliver the story from a wider point of view. On the other hand, when it is done well, the first person narrator can be stunningly unreliable. When it's done well. Unfortunately, in this case, Turgeon fell short of the mark. When the twist came at the end, the reader was mostly unprepared for it. To pull it off, there needed to be more hints and preparation from the beginning and more people around Lil needed to behave in accordance with the twist.
Ultimately the problem is that Godmother couldn't decide if it was a fractured fairy tale or a psychological drama. The shift between the two genres was clumsy and every time I nearly gave up on it, I found myself deciding to give it just a few more pages to prove itself out. By the time I hit the end of the book, I'd been waiting for 273 pages. It never came together and I wish I'd given up on page 50.
It is rare for me to post a mostly negative review of a book and I think there two reasons for this. 1. If a book is bad, I generally won't finish it and I don't tend to review books I haven't finished. I don't think it's fair. 2. I don't like being overly critical of people's babies. Any book, outside of ghostwritten pulp, is someone's heart and soul poured out on paper and looking for approval. While I have no problem pointing out flaws, I usually try to balance it with enough positives that it doesn't feel like a slaughter. I'm not going to be able to do that this time, and I'm very sorry Ms. Turgeon.
Godmother presents itself initially as a fractured fairytale centered around the Cinderella story. The premise is that instead of getting Cinderella to the ball, the fairy godmother, Lil in this case, took her place. In response to this grave offense, Lil is cast out of the fairy world to live as a human which she does. She lives her life, works in a used bookshop, gets old just like any other human. In fact, the only thing that marks her as more than human is a pair of gigantic white feathered wings that she hides by tying them down to her back with bandages. As far as a premise goes, it's not bad. Veronica and George, the two main side characters, are pretty good. They are a little two dimensional, maybe, but it is a close first person point of view to Lil so that is forgivable. The end even could be a nice, if tragic, twist.
So what's so awful about this book? It's the structure and the writing. Structurally, Turgeon told the story on two timelines. The first is far in the past when Lil was still a fairy and it retells Cinderella from her point of view. The second timeline is Lil as an old (mostly) human woman who finds the opportunity to redeem herself by setting up George and Veronica as a modern version of Prince Charming and Cinderella. Each chapter starts in the fairytale and switches midway through to the modern. This is not an unusual technique, but for it to work well, there needs to be a way to tie the two sections in each chapter together. There needs to be either a plot link or some thematic link between to two segments that is a reason for the juxtaposition. While there were a couple of places the two plot lines did indeed meet up, most of the time there was no discernible link between the two sections which made the transitions jarring and often irritating. There were several segments of the fairytale plot line that didn't feel necessary and were, I suspect, written simply to satisfy the format.
The writing style was clearly trying for the ethereal voice of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. However, the POV was so firmly tied to Lil that it bogged down badly in her rather obsessive and circular thoughts. Instead of being lyrical, it was tedious. It's hard to do a first person narrative well because the only things the reader can know are the things the protagonist knows. This is very limiting for an author because it is often convenient to pull back and deliver the story from a wider point of view. On the other hand, when it is done well, the first person narrator can be stunningly unreliable. When it's done well. Unfortunately, in this case, Turgeon fell short of the mark. When the twist came at the end, the reader was mostly unprepared for it. To pull it off, there needed to be more hints and preparation from the beginning and more people around Lil needed to behave in accordance with the twist.
Ultimately the problem is that Godmother couldn't decide if it was a fractured fairy tale or a psychological drama. The shift between the two genres was clumsy and every time I nearly gave up on it, I found myself deciding to give it just a few more pages to prove itself out. By the time I hit the end of the book, I'd been waiting for 273 pages. It never came together and I wish I'd given up on page 50.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
8. And Only to Deceive
by Tasha Alexander
A year or so ago, I stated a goal of buying one new book a month by an author who was still living. The point of this was to support living authors, and preferably authors who were not already popular. I abandoned that year's book challenge but I still think it's important to support contemporary authors. In my recent book buying binge, the vast majority of the books I bought fell into this category, including this one.
This is the first of Alexander's books and one that I bought on sale because of the blurb on the back cover. It is an impressive debut. Alexander avoids all the usual first book problems. In fact, I wouldn't be too surprised to find out that Alexander is a pseudonym. However, wild speculation aside, this was a well plotted mystery set in Victorian England. The main character, Lady Ashton, is a newlywed turned widow after her husband dies on a hunting expedition in Africa. Mourning for Victorian women was a strange and oddly rigid thing, and for a while the oddity of setting hides the beginnings of the mystery plot-line.
Overall the book reads as though Jane Austen wrote a mystery novel and I applaud Alexander for creating a thoroughly enjoyable book. The history was well integrated and the voice absolutely superb. This book is the beginning of a series and I have no idea how well it holds up but I say it's worth a try.
A year or so ago, I stated a goal of buying one new book a month by an author who was still living. The point of this was to support living authors, and preferably authors who were not already popular. I abandoned that year's book challenge but I still think it's important to support contemporary authors. In my recent book buying binge, the vast majority of the books I bought fell into this category, including this one.
This is the first of Alexander's books and one that I bought on sale because of the blurb on the back cover. It is an impressive debut. Alexander avoids all the usual first book problems. In fact, I wouldn't be too surprised to find out that Alexander is a pseudonym. However, wild speculation aside, this was a well plotted mystery set in Victorian England. The main character, Lady Ashton, is a newlywed turned widow after her husband dies on a hunting expedition in Africa. Mourning for Victorian women was a strange and oddly rigid thing, and for a while the oddity of setting hides the beginnings of the mystery plot-line.
Overall the book reads as though Jane Austen wrote a mystery novel and I applaud Alexander for creating a thoroughly enjoyable book. The history was well integrated and the voice absolutely superb. This book is the beginning of a series and I have no idea how well it holds up but I say it's worth a try.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Summer: The Season of Reading
Over here, on the East Coast (South end thereof), there are three big bookstore chains: Borders, Barnes and Noble, and Books-A-Million. Of which, in Atlanta Books-A-Million bowed out of the market almost 10 years ago. Therefore inside the city limits and immediate metro environs, one can only find Borders and Barnes & Noble locations. With readerships going down and the publishing industry less inclined to take risks, I've never thought that the market could bare two huge book chains competing for the same demographic. So as everyone seems to be aware, the inevitable has occurred: Borders is going through "restructuring." This process has involved in a large number locations closing down which means SALES.
Coupled with my natural tendency to occasionally go on book buying rampages, and added to the middling number of books that people lend me, I am currently awash in books and need to make some headway. This is a state I find enjoyable even if it does make it difficult to move through the living room around all the towers of books. While, I doubt it is possible to read them all over the course of the Summer, I'd like to make a good sized dent in my unread masses. What follows is a list of "candidates" for summer reading. This list does not represent every unread book in the house, but is a subsection created lest I get too overwhelmed by options. The key will be at bottom.
(LTR)LibraryThing Review book (HR)Husband Recommendation (NF)non-fiction (Rec)Recommended *followed with the origin if remembered*
Coupled with my natural tendency to occasionally go on book buying rampages, and added to the middling number of books that people lend me, I am currently awash in books and need to make some headway. This is a state I find enjoyable even if it does make it difficult to move through the living room around all the towers of books. While, I doubt it is possible to read them all over the course of the Summer, I'd like to make a good sized dent in my unread masses. What follows is a list of "candidates" for summer reading. This list does not represent every unread book in the house, but is a subsection created lest I get too overwhelmed by options. The key will be at bottom.
- Love and Ghost Letters by Chantel Acevedo
- And Only to Deceive by Tasha Alexander
- The Teahouse Fire by Ellis Avery
- American Fuji by Sara Backer
- Eating Mammals by John Barlow
- The School of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermeister
- The Stories of Richard Bausch by Richard Bausch
- The Feast of Love by Charles Baxter
- Blood Music by Greg Bear
- A Continuous Harmony by Wendell Berry (NF)
- Stories by T.C. Boyle
- I'm a Stranger Here Myself by Bill Bryson (NF)
- Dawn by Octavia E. Butler
- Adulthood Rites Octavia E. Butler
- Imago by Octavia E. Butler
- Invictus by John Carlin
- Manhood for Amateurs by Michael Chabon
- Candy Girl by Diablo Cody (NF)
- George's Marvelous Medicine by Roald Dahl
- James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
- The Twits by Roald Dahl
- The BFG by Roald Dahl
- Matilda by Roald Dahl
- Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl
- Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator by Roald Dahl
- Fantastic Fox by Roald Dahl
- For the King by Catherine Delors
- The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz
- Desert Flower by Waris Dirie (Rec Brianne)
- Florida Road Kill by Tim Dorsey
- The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky
- The Memory Keepers Daughter by Kim Edwards
- The Best American Non-Required Reading 2008 edited by Dave Eggers
- The Unvanquished by William Faulkner
- World Without End by Ken Follett (Rec Mom)
- Hot, Flat, and Crowded by Thomas L. Friedman (NF)
- All the Sad Young Literary Men by Keith Gessen
- Jump and Other Stories by Nadine Gordimer
- Jesus Is Sending You This Message by Jim Grimsley
- Real Murders by Charlaine Harris
- High on the Hog by Jessica B. Harris (NF)(LTR)
- The Island of Lost Maps by Miles Harvey (NF)
- Catch-22 by Joseph Heller (HR)
- The Story Sisters by Alice Hoffman
- Lulu in Marrakech by Diane Johnson
- The Metamorphosis and Other Stories by Franz Kafka
- Don't Open This Book selected by Marvin Kaye
- The Fair Fold edited by Marvin Kaye
- The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver
- Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer
- Get Shorty by Elmore Leonard
- Blue World by Robert R. McCammon (HR)
- Stinger by Robert R. McCammon (HR)
- Swan Song by Robert McCammon (HR)
- Books by Larry McMurtry (NF)
- The Host by Stephenie Meyer (Rec Brianne)
- Parsival or a Knight's Tale by Richard Monaco
- Fool by Christopher Moore
- A Few Short Notes on Tropical Butterflies by John Murray
- Sorceress of the Witch World by Andre Norton
- Spell of the Witch World by Andre Norton
- Wraiths of Time by Andre Norton
- Facing Unpleasant Facts by George Orwell (NF)
- In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan
- Disquiet, Please! edited by David Remnick and Henry Finder
- Terminal World by Alastair Reynolds
- Another Roadside Attraction by Tom Robbins
- The Stars Dispose by Michaela Roessner
- What I Was by Meg Rosoff
- The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
- The Best American Short Stories 2009 by Alice Sebold
- White Teeth by Zadie Smith
- At the Same Time by Susan Sontag (NF)
- Ghost Train to the Eastern Star by Paul Theroux (NF)
- First They Killed My Father by Loung Ung (Rec Brianne)
- Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne
- Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne
- Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas by Jules Verne
- Contemporary Fiction: 50 Short Stories Since 1970 edited by Lex Williford and Michael Martone
- The Tomb by F. Paul Wilson (HR)
- How I Learned to Cook edited by Kimberly Witherspoon and Peter Meehan (NF)
(LTR)LibraryThing Review book (HR)Husband Recommendation (NF)non-fiction (Rec)Recommended *followed with the origin if remembered*
Monday, May 30, 2011
7. Bitterwood
by James Maxey
The biggest problem that I have with fantasy genre fiction, is the idea that a fantasy novel should be over 550 pages. I want to blame Robert Jordan, who after launching his "Wheel of Time" series, seems to have fixed it the public mind the idea that serious fantasy novels must have some physical weight in their corporeal form. However, I suppose the idea that fantasy stories should be epic starts with the epics themselves. The Odyssey particularly seems to be the source of many common themes in fantasy stories. In any case, since the late 90s fantasy novels have gotten generally fatter and fatter and suffer from severe cases of plot bloat.
This phenomenon, then, accounts for the fact that I've owned this book for a while without reading it. I picked it up at McKay's in Chattanooga last time I was through. At the time I was in the middle of a long car trip and feeling kinda bored killing time while Ryan browsed McKay's intimidating selection of used CDs. And so, I found myself browsing the fantasy section of a bookstore for the first time in years thinking about how much I loved fantasy novels as a teenager and how disappointing I find them now (when over 550 pages.) I was about through the aisle, which broke at the M's, when I was distracted by a paperback discarded on the floor. As I picked it up to put it away, the cover captured my attention. (Though not a neat person as a general rule, books seem to excite a more meticulous bent in my personal habits.)Dragons are one of my favorite things, and the cover has the picture of a huge reptilian eye reflecting the image of a man aiming a bow right into the eye. Let it never be said that good cover art fails to sell books.
In any case, Bitterwood has been collecting dust ever since. No matter how fantastic the cover art is, it is still a big fat fantasy novel and my general views eventually reasserted themselves. However,after reading Maxey's "Where the Worm Dieth Not" in Masked I realized that I recognized the name, although I could not remember where from. The urge to figure out where stuck with me though, and after searching through pile after pile of books, I found it in the bathroom. (I refrain from speculating how it got there.)
So, from there I went ahead, opened the beautifully bedecked cover, and began to read. I discovered two things. 1. James Maxey can handle longer format fantasy plots in a way that does not suffer egregiously from plot bloat. The characters are engaging, believable people who the reader cares about almost immediately. Also commendable, Maxey managed to write from a dragon's point of view in a way that was believable. The interaction between the two species, dragon and human, is reasonable. Maxey made nicely logical leaps about what the relationships would have to be like and, more importantly, the story has a point to make while avoiding the cardinal sin of preachiness. 2. The second, and more important, thing I learned was that the book is only 489 pages, and so does not force me to change my personal views on long fantasy novels. I was quite relieved.
The best thing about finishing an enjoyable book is realizing that it's part of a series. I was, at the end of the read, sad that it was over but Amazon consoled me; there are two more books in the series.
The biggest problem that I have with fantasy genre fiction, is the idea that a fantasy novel should be over 550 pages. I want to blame Robert Jordan, who after launching his "Wheel of Time" series, seems to have fixed it the public mind the idea that serious fantasy novels must have some physical weight in their corporeal form. However, I suppose the idea that fantasy stories should be epic starts with the epics themselves. The Odyssey particularly seems to be the source of many common themes in fantasy stories. In any case, since the late 90s fantasy novels have gotten generally fatter and fatter and suffer from severe cases of plot bloat.
This phenomenon, then, accounts for the fact that I've owned this book for a while without reading it. I picked it up at McKay's in Chattanooga last time I was through. At the time I was in the middle of a long car trip and feeling kinda bored killing time while Ryan browsed McKay's intimidating selection of used CDs. And so, I found myself browsing the fantasy section of a bookstore for the first time in years thinking about how much I loved fantasy novels as a teenager and how disappointing I find them now (when over 550 pages.) I was about through the aisle, which broke at the M's, when I was distracted by a paperback discarded on the floor. As I picked it up to put it away, the cover captured my attention. (Though not a neat person as a general rule, books seem to excite a more meticulous bent in my personal habits.)Dragons are one of my favorite things, and the cover has the picture of a huge reptilian eye reflecting the image of a man aiming a bow right into the eye. Let it never be said that good cover art fails to sell books.
In any case, Bitterwood has been collecting dust ever since. No matter how fantastic the cover art is, it is still a big fat fantasy novel and my general views eventually reasserted themselves. However,after reading Maxey's "Where the Worm Dieth Not" in Masked I realized that I recognized the name, although I could not remember where from. The urge to figure out where stuck with me though, and after searching through pile after pile of books, I found it in the bathroom. (I refrain from speculating how it got there.)
So, from there I went ahead, opened the beautifully bedecked cover, and began to read. I discovered two things. 1. James Maxey can handle longer format fantasy plots in a way that does not suffer egregiously from plot bloat. The characters are engaging, believable people who the reader cares about almost immediately. Also commendable, Maxey managed to write from a dragon's point of view in a way that was believable. The interaction between the two species, dragon and human, is reasonable. Maxey made nicely logical leaps about what the relationships would have to be like and, more importantly, the story has a point to make while avoiding the cardinal sin of preachiness. 2. The second, and more important, thing I learned was that the book is only 489 pages, and so does not force me to change my personal views on long fantasy novels. I was quite relieved.
The best thing about finishing an enjoyable book is realizing that it's part of a series. I was, at the end of the read, sad that it was over but Amazon consoled me; there are two more books in the series.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
6. Masked
Edited by Lou Anders
I had, recently, the new experience of coaching at the state track meet for my school. For those out there unaware, track meets are long strange affairs where the motto should be 'hurry up and wait.' It's hot and sticky hours of waiting under a searing Georgia sun punctuated by short periods of frenzied activity. For the coaches, it is almost entirely 'go there,' and 'do that' while our butts slowly go numb on aluminum stadium seating. Should it be surprising then, that when the we took the kids to the mall after the meet, I jumped at the opportunity to nip off to a book store and buy some distractions.
One of these distractions was a collection of short stories about super heroes. Normally, this isn't the kind of book I'd pick up but I recognized a few of the authors and I was, to be entirely frank, kind of desperate. Any anthology of short stories is hit or miss on quality and my general rule of thumb for an anthology to be successful that at least 50% of the stories are worth reading. Out of 15 stories, only one fell utterly flat which more than meets my requirements.
My particular favorites were:
I had, recently, the new experience of coaching at the state track meet for my school. For those out there unaware, track meets are long strange affairs where the motto should be 'hurry up and wait.' It's hot and sticky hours of waiting under a searing Georgia sun punctuated by short periods of frenzied activity. For the coaches, it is almost entirely 'go there,' and 'do that' while our butts slowly go numb on aluminum stadium seating. Should it be surprising then, that when the we took the kids to the mall after the meet, I jumped at the opportunity to nip off to a book store and buy some distractions.
One of these distractions was a collection of short stories about super heroes. Normally, this isn't the kind of book I'd pick up but I recognized a few of the authors and I was, to be entirely frank, kind of desperate. Any anthology of short stories is hit or miss on quality and my general rule of thumb for an anthology to be successful that at least 50% of the stories are worth reading. Out of 15 stories, only one fell utterly flat which more than meets my requirements.
My particular favorites were:
- "Cleansed and Set in Gold" by Matthew Sturges
- "Where Their Worm Dieth Not" by James Maxey
- "Downfall" by Joseph Mallozzi
- "Call Her Savage" by Marjorie M. Liu
Sunday, May 8, 2011
5. The Thirteenth Tale
by Diane Setterfield
A student recommended this book to me about three years ago. She was a good student and tended to have good taste in books, but this book was in the middle of some popular hype which I tend to find distasteful. The Thirteenth Tale actually deserves the hype it got and it's too bad that it has pretty much faded back out of general consciousness.
The story of the novel centers around two primary characters: Margaret Lea (the narrator), and Vida Winter. Vida Winter is an enigmatic and somewhat crotchety author at the end of her life. She is known for never disclosing her true history and instead inventing colorful, but spurious, back stories for herself. However, Ms. Winter decides to hire Margaret Lea to write her authorized biography before she succumbs to death. Her true biography.
The problem for Miss. Lea though is that she isn't really a biographer. She's a shop clerk at an antiquarian bookshop owned by her father. She's practically a hermit and her only hobby is putting together biographical essays on long dead and insignificant people. Oh, and she doesn't read literature by people who are still alive. So why, of all the people in the world, would Vida Winter, the most successful popular author of her day, want a hermetical bookshop clerk who never read her books to write what is perhaps the most sought-after biography in her world.
Regardless, Miss. Lea decides to take the job after several stipulations and the work commences. The narrative is primarily told in two interwoven voices. The first is Margaret Lea's, who's voice comments on her own thoughts, the world around Vida Winter, and the various supplementary investigations she does. The second voice, is the voice of Vida Winter as she tells her history to Miss. Lea. The balance between the two voices is superb and it avoids the trap of being too linear with clever side trips that all end up being relevant to the central mystery.
By the end of the story I found myself so wrapped up in the narrative that I was crying at the State Track Meet for Georgia surrounded by my team.
A student recommended this book to me about three years ago. She was a good student and tended to have good taste in books, but this book was in the middle of some popular hype which I tend to find distasteful. The Thirteenth Tale actually deserves the hype it got and it's too bad that it has pretty much faded back out of general consciousness.
The story of the novel centers around two primary characters: Margaret Lea (the narrator), and Vida Winter. Vida Winter is an enigmatic and somewhat crotchety author at the end of her life. She is known for never disclosing her true history and instead inventing colorful, but spurious, back stories for herself. However, Ms. Winter decides to hire Margaret Lea to write her authorized biography before she succumbs to death. Her true biography.
The problem for Miss. Lea though is that she isn't really a biographer. She's a shop clerk at an antiquarian bookshop owned by her father. She's practically a hermit and her only hobby is putting together biographical essays on long dead and insignificant people. Oh, and she doesn't read literature by people who are still alive. So why, of all the people in the world, would Vida Winter, the most successful popular author of her day, want a hermetical bookshop clerk who never read her books to write what is perhaps the most sought-after biography in her world.
Regardless, Miss. Lea decides to take the job after several stipulations and the work commences. The narrative is primarily told in two interwoven voices. The first is Margaret Lea's, who's voice comments on her own thoughts, the world around Vida Winter, and the various supplementary investigations she does. The second voice, is the voice of Vida Winter as she tells her history to Miss. Lea. The balance between the two voices is superb and it avoids the trap of being too linear with clever side trips that all end up being relevant to the central mystery.
By the end of the story I found myself so wrapped up in the narrative that I was crying at the State Track Meet for Georgia surrounded by my team.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
4. Tuck Everlasting
by Natalie Babbitt
It is a well known, but little considered, fact that there are fashion trends in the teaching of literature. The pedagogy set aside, what concerns me are the texts the gain in popularity and the ones that drop off the reading lists. These reading lists are sometimes referred to as the cannon and the texts as canonical. Whole sections of these lists are pretty static and tend to change rarely if at all: Hamlet and Macbeth for Brit Lit, something by Twain for American Lit, etc. Whole other sections turn over every couple of years. For example, there was a lot of buzz about trying to work Twilight into various curricula, up until the last book was published and the female protagonist had sex wherein the impulse to include the series faded out.
Since I focus on 11th and 12th grades, I tend to be pretty unaware of middle school trends but Tuck Everlasting turned up on my radar somehow, and I can only presume it was through the collective teacher subconscious.
While the story was cute, and the premise interesting, I finished Tuck Everlasting feeling rather unfulfilled. When a 10 year old if faced with the possibility of eternal life and youth, what decision would she make. I can see it go either way, really. Babbitt's conclusion however, was ill-supported through character development. Additionally, the 10 year old girl's instant infatuation with a 17 year old boy (or 104 years old really but he looks 17) seemed a little odd. Memories of being 10 are getting a little fuzzy, but I don't remember getting crushes on kids who looked 17, I got crushes on kids who looked 14 max... and I really didn't get many crushes until I was closer to 12. Additionally the fact that our 17(104) year old guy gets a similar crush on our 10 year old seems pretty....creepy. It just doesn't feel right.
Of course, I might be over-thinking this.
It is a well known, but little considered, fact that there are fashion trends in the teaching of literature. The pedagogy set aside, what concerns me are the texts the gain in popularity and the ones that drop off the reading lists. These reading lists are sometimes referred to as the cannon and the texts as canonical. Whole sections of these lists are pretty static and tend to change rarely if at all: Hamlet and Macbeth for Brit Lit, something by Twain for American Lit, etc. Whole other sections turn over every couple of years. For example, there was a lot of buzz about trying to work Twilight into various curricula, up until the last book was published and the female protagonist had sex wherein the impulse to include the series faded out.
Since I focus on 11th and 12th grades, I tend to be pretty unaware of middle school trends but Tuck Everlasting turned up on my radar somehow, and I can only presume it was through the collective teacher subconscious.
While the story was cute, and the premise interesting, I finished Tuck Everlasting feeling rather unfulfilled. When a 10 year old if faced with the possibility of eternal life and youth, what decision would she make. I can see it go either way, really. Babbitt's conclusion however, was ill-supported through character development. Additionally, the 10 year old girl's instant infatuation with a 17 year old boy (or 104 years old really but he looks 17) seemed a little odd. Memories of being 10 are getting a little fuzzy, but I don't remember getting crushes on kids who looked 17, I got crushes on kids who looked 14 max... and I really didn't get many crushes until I was closer to 12. Additionally the fact that our 17(104) year old guy gets a similar crush on our 10 year old seems pretty....creepy. It just doesn't feel right.
Of course, I might be over-thinking this.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
3. Shades of Grey
by Jasper Fforde
Fforde books are insanely difficult to classify and tend to end up in literary fantasy with Lewis Carroll and C.S Lewis. I'm more familiar with his other two series and wasn't even aware this book was out. Imagine a sort of Orwellian world where the paramount importance was a person's type and strength of color perception. A whole society arranged around chromatic perception with social rules organized in a rigid hierarchy. Imagine too, that all medicine was administered through the visual cortex and came on color swatches...like in a paint store color swatches. Now imagine that young Edward, an untested but strong red percever, get's dropped in the middle of a conspiracy along with his swatchman (doctor) father. And of course, there's a girl. There's always a girl.
Most of the book is presented as a sort of extended flashback while Edward is head first in the belly of a carnivorous tree. It is all handled with an unusual amount of adept finesse. Normally extended flashbacks are jarring and unpleasant. It's difficult to manage a POV where the narrator knows how it's going to work out, especially when, in the last 50 pages of a 380 page book, it suddenly pops out of the flashback and into the current time-stream. Well done and as it turns out not jarring at all.
Fforde books are insanely difficult to classify and tend to end up in literary fantasy with Lewis Carroll and C.S Lewis. I'm more familiar with his other two series and wasn't even aware this book was out. Imagine a sort of Orwellian world where the paramount importance was a person's type and strength of color perception. A whole society arranged around chromatic perception with social rules organized in a rigid hierarchy. Imagine too, that all medicine was administered through the visual cortex and came on color swatches...like in a paint store color swatches. Now imagine that young Edward, an untested but strong red percever, get's dropped in the middle of a conspiracy along with his swatchman (doctor) father. And of course, there's a girl. There's always a girl.
Most of the book is presented as a sort of extended flashback while Edward is head first in the belly of a carnivorous tree. It is all handled with an unusual amount of adept finesse. Normally extended flashbacks are jarring and unpleasant. It's difficult to manage a POV where the narrator knows how it's going to work out, especially when, in the last 50 pages of a 380 page book, it suddenly pops out of the flashback and into the current time-stream. Well done and as it turns out not jarring at all.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
2. Sound Bites: Eating on Tour with Franz Ferdinand
by Alex Kapranos
Love is when someone can wade through a stack of media, much of which is the kind of crap that led you to discount the whole pile, and identify the one gem worth caring about. Double heart points if the media in question is totally out of that someone's interests. I get a surprising number of books and video games that way, through my husband. Great man.
Sound Bites was another Asheville find. The Guardian paid Kapranos, front man for Franz Ferdinand, to write about all the exotic foods he and his band ate while on tour. I'd always suspected that, at that rate of travel, even the most gustatory minded would end up eating a lot of junk. In Kapranos's case, junk = Subway. It's not always satisfying to be right.
Amidst the subs and cold pizza, though, they did actually manage some interesting food, or at the very least, some interesting venues. The book is written as a series of vignettes and is often less about the food and more about the places and people. I particularly found his recounting of a place called 'Ninja' in Osaka and a rather petty incident in Singapore hilarious. The only time he mentioned Atlanta was a sideways reference to the Sundial Cafe, a rotating restaurant at the top of a skyscraper downtown. He hated it as much as I did for its massively overpriced and wretched food. See previous comment about the problematic nature of being right.
Kapranos has a lively voice, an adventurous palette, and excellent background knowledge as a former cook. It was a fun read, but not the height of literature.
Love is when someone can wade through a stack of media, much of which is the kind of crap that led you to discount the whole pile, and identify the one gem worth caring about. Double heart points if the media in question is totally out of that someone's interests. I get a surprising number of books and video games that way, through my husband. Great man.
Sound Bites was another Asheville find. The Guardian paid Kapranos, front man for Franz Ferdinand, to write about all the exotic foods he and his band ate while on tour. I'd always suspected that, at that rate of travel, even the most gustatory minded would end up eating a lot of junk. In Kapranos's case, junk = Subway. It's not always satisfying to be right.
Amidst the subs and cold pizza, though, they did actually manage some interesting food, or at the very least, some interesting venues. The book is written as a series of vignettes and is often less about the food and more about the places and people. I particularly found his recounting of a place called 'Ninja' in Osaka and a rather petty incident in Singapore hilarious. The only time he mentioned Atlanta was a sideways reference to the Sundial Cafe, a rotating restaurant at the top of a skyscraper downtown. He hated it as much as I did for its massively overpriced and wretched food. See previous comment about the problematic nature of being right.
Kapranos has a lively voice, an adventurous palette, and excellent background knowledge as a former cook. It was a fun read, but not the height of literature.
Friday, April 8, 2011
1. Dreamers of the Day
by Mary Doria Russell
I found this in a used book store in Asheville, NC while killing time and waiting for everything else to open up. In Asheville's downtown, even the breakfast places don't open till 9. Everything else seems to open at 11 AM or even later. Color me aghast. Living in a major metropolis has evidently warped my concept of appropriate opening times.
In any event, there I am floating around and not feeling terribly reader-ish and I find this book with an artsy-fartsy photograph of the pyramids with WWI era woman strolling around on it. It looks like the worst kind semi-romantic literary shmaltz and the only reason I picked it up is because I happen to know who Mary Doria Russell is.
Mary Doria Russell was trained as an anthropologist and is responsible for writing The Sparrow and A Thread of Grace. The first is one of the most chilling imaginings of human first contact with alien intelligence that I've ever read and the second is a historical novel about the Jews who fled to Italy during WWII. Both books were masterfully well written and heartrendingly depressing. Russell gets enough cred to get me past a dubious looking cover.
I'm glad I gave it a shot. Dreamers of the Day is set in the time immediately after WWI and the influenza outbreaks which is a time period that many schools gloss over. It's strange to think that a relatively common disease that is generally regarded as an inconvenience once swept through world leaving corpses in the streets and we've more or less forgot. Bigger worries I guess with WWI raging on. In any case, Russell's main character, Agnes, decides to take the opportunity immediately postwar to use the money her now entirely deceased family has left her to take a trip to Egypt and in doing so manages to meet Winston Churchill, Lawrence of Arabia, and Gertrude Bell. Quite the cast.
The book is typically well written but a little slow starting and the end is a little...odd. I've come to the conclusion that Russell, has a hard time dealing with loose ends at the end of a story and resorts to somewhat bizarre vignettes. I can forgive it though in view of the otherwise brilliant prose.
I found this in a used book store in Asheville, NC while killing time and waiting for everything else to open up. In Asheville's downtown, even the breakfast places don't open till 9. Everything else seems to open at 11 AM or even later. Color me aghast. Living in a major metropolis has evidently warped my concept of appropriate opening times.
In any event, there I am floating around and not feeling terribly reader-ish and I find this book with an artsy-fartsy photograph of the pyramids with WWI era woman strolling around on it. It looks like the worst kind semi-romantic literary shmaltz and the only reason I picked it up is because I happen to know who Mary Doria Russell is.
Mary Doria Russell was trained as an anthropologist and is responsible for writing The Sparrow and A Thread of Grace. The first is one of the most chilling imaginings of human first contact with alien intelligence that I've ever read and the second is a historical novel about the Jews who fled to Italy during WWII. Both books were masterfully well written and heartrendingly depressing. Russell gets enough cred to get me past a dubious looking cover.
I'm glad I gave it a shot. Dreamers of the Day is set in the time immediately after WWI and the influenza outbreaks which is a time period that many schools gloss over. It's strange to think that a relatively common disease that is generally regarded as an inconvenience once swept through world leaving corpses in the streets and we've more or less forgot. Bigger worries I guess with WWI raging on. In any case, Russell's main character, Agnes, decides to take the opportunity immediately postwar to use the money her now entirely deceased family has left her to take a trip to Egypt and in doing so manages to meet Winston Churchill, Lawrence of Arabia, and Gertrude Bell. Quite the cast.
The book is typically well written but a little slow starting and the end is a little...odd. I've come to the conclusion that Russell, has a hard time dealing with loose ends at the end of a story and resorts to somewhat bizarre vignettes. I can forgive it though in view of the otherwise brilliant prose.
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