Dusty Shelves Book Blog
Ruth Reichl | Nonfiction Memoir, 2019
LA Times food critic Ruth Reichl catapults into the opulent, gastronomically eloquent, ostentatious world of billionaires, Gourmet magazine and its owner, Condé Nast.
It is astounding to read of her experiences entering this whole new world and working to find her place. And then, as the book progresses, we are witnesses as she shakes up the staid Gourmet magazine and it becomes more radical and more relevant. This is a respite from the last few books I read, which were ponderous and serious (Me and White Supremacy and An Indigenous Peoples’ Guide to American History). Save Me the Plums is light and easy to read.
However, its gift is also its demise. It is too light. Reichl, surprisingly for a memoir author, is not transparent or reflective. She tells us what occurs, but she doesn’t tell us how she feels about it or what she is thinking. One example is when she receives pressure in this new New York world of hers, to buy a $6500 dress. She eventually decides, which we learn about, but we don’t read of her internal conflict, or her values, or her feelings, or even her decision-making process. She is either a poor writer or a shallow writer, and I am inclined toward the latter because her descriptions of food and their tastes and textures are positively mouth-wateringly yummy. Her lack of real authenticity and depth moved this book from four hearts to three for me.
She also repeats a perspective that has shown up in a few books I have read recently. Authors sometimes enter the corporate world and write about it as if they are the first to discover and reveal the machinations of big business. What she writes of is neither new nor news. It is boring if you have spent 40 years of your career interacting with big corporations, and I find the surprise and fascination of these authors to be naïve.
Read Save Me the Plums for the fun, the grandiosity, and the almost tactile delight of exploring new foods. But don’t read it for insight into a food celebrity or you will be disappointed.
From “Booked in Bend” book club list for 2020.
Layla F. Saad | Nonfiction, 2020
For 28 days, addressing 28 topics associated with white supremacy, such as power, relationships, and white silence, Me and White Supremacy follows this pattern: “What is <topic>? “How does it show up?” and “Why do you need to look at it?” Then she presents “Reflection time journal prompts” intended to guide you through the 28 days of this workbook, keeping a journal as you proceed.
At first I was very frustrated with this book. For the first few days, the introspective questions she asked were too obvious; too simple. They were about behaviors or attitudes I left behind in college. I wanted juicier, more insightful questions that would make me ponder and think and reflect and re-examine my attitudes and actions.
Be careful what you ask for. As I progressed in the book, the questions did get tougher and inspire more self-examination. About day 19, everything shifted for me. Chapter 19 is about “optical allyship.” In my own words, “optical allyship” is about saying the right things, and believing the right things, but not ever doing the very hard work to break the systems of power that oppress. It is to be visible as an ally, but only in tone, voice, attitude, and not action.
I realized that I have been more than an optical ally to the LGBTQ+ community. I have marched. I have worked to change corporate policies and practices. I collected signatures in freezing temperatures for a ballot measure to create marriage equality in Oregon. I have coached leaders in the LGBTQ+ movement. I have had numerous meaningful conversations. And I have examined my own sexual orientation and its relationship to being in community with others. Now, I am not intending to say this is sufficient work nor am I lauding what bits I have done. My point is, as haven’t done anything, taken any significant action, to be proud of in support of BIPOC. I have been merely an optical ally. Wow.
I have seen a model of resources for White people that identifies six stages of growth and development of White privilege consciousness. This book is recommended in stage three. The next book on my list for this topic is How to be an Anti-Racist, which is a stage four resource.
What can I say? Of course I recommend this book, at least to my White readers. Know that it will take you a while to read and journal your way through this small book. You can scroll through my blog to see some other books on this topic, but there are many, many more resources than what I have read. I have been inspired since the events of this summer ... I hope some of you are, too. There is work to be done. Please let us know here on Dusty Shelves what you discover!
Hala Alyan | Fiction, 2017
I must give Salt Houses four hearts. I can’t be critical of it; it has many good reviews. My life was in chaos in the last ten days or so, between work, volunteering, and relationships. I could not focus on this book, and so I just pushed my way through, because I wanted to finish it for my Decolonization book club. Whenever I did connect with it, however, I found the relationships and the characters multidimensional, complex, and real. Spanning March 1963 to 2014, it is the moving story of a single family, living In Nablus and uprooted by the Six-Day War in 1967. Eventually, parts of the family live in Kuwait, Boston, Paris, Beirut, Amman, and Jaffa. It is criminal that the publisher did not include a map in this book. It would have helped readers to better understand the implications of the moves they chose to make or were forced to make. However, I am grateful for the family tree. Along with the Yacoub family’s reactions to war and unsettled lands, we witness the rise of feminism and the influence of American culture as we read about the generations. The author refers to herself as Palestinian-American.
Have you read Salt Houses? What comments do you have?
Larry Watson | Fiction, 1993
“From the summer of my twelfth year I carry a season of images more vivid and lasting than any others of my boyhood and indelible beyond all attempts the years make to erase or fade them …” This is the opening of Montana 1948. But don’t begin to think that this novel is about a 12-year old boy in Montana and his coming of age by fishing and kicking a ball around in the street during a long summer. No, his story is exceedingly more powerful. This is David’s tale of what happens when, at a very impressionable age, he is confronted with unthinkable crimes, tragedy, grief, loyalty, love, and angst in his protected world of rural white people and American Indians, living side by side, and recovering from the trials of WW2.
Watson’s writing is simple, clear, and captivating. Prepare yourself ... this short book will entice you to read cover-to-cover in one sitting.
Once again, my friend Teresa knows exactly what books to loan me. Thank you, Teresa.
Sigrid Nunez | Fiction, 2020
From the back cover: “A woman describes a series of encounters she has with various people in the ordinary course of her life. Some, like the old friend she goes to visit at a cancer clinic, are people she knows well; others are total strangers. In each of them, she finds a common need: the urge to talk about themselves and have an audience to their experiences.”
Nunez demonstrates how to listen and for that alone I am very grateful for this book. The back cover is accurate, but insufficient. The story actually is driven mostly by her relationship with the friend who has cancer and who asks her to help her die. It sounds like a grim tale, but it is not. How much they laugh in the final days!
I was amazed to read the author’s and her characters’ feelings about death, cancer, untold stories, kittens, and overpopulation. She shared some of my own feelings ... some I thought only I had ever felt!
This book kept crossing my radar screen. An NPR review, Time magazine, other references to it. I was surprised to learn it was a novel; I thought it was nonfiction. What You are Going Through is short and will give you pause. I quite liked it and I just requested at the library her earlier book, The Friend.
Richard Powers | Fiction, 1996
Eddie treats every encounter with his four children as a learning opportunity. At breakfast, there is a line from Shakespeare. At dinner we contemplate what happened at Dachau. And, of course, one evening there is the presentation of the Prisoner’s Dilemma ... intended to play with the brains of all the Hobson family members. Actually, many of his statements and queries have to do with game theory. His behavior has created a generation of thinkers, but his offspring at times talk in the same riddles and well-turned phrases Eddie does. One night he says to his eldest, Artie, “calamine.” It is up to Artie to figure out what his father is saying. And the Hobson family, consisting of Eddie Sr., his wife, two sons and two daughters, is not only bright, but also humorous. The family car, a Pinto, is named Mr. Nader.
And Eddie is ill. He vomits, passes out, becomes non-lucid. And then he bounces back. He has been this way for 30+ years and refuses to see a doctor. His children, now age 18 to 30(?) are worried about him. But he finally decides to go to the VA hospital ... the only institution he can maybe trust.
The love of these grown children for their father is astounding. They keep circling back to the family home, despite their busy lives, especially when Eddie Sr. seems particularly ill.
This is my third Richard Powers, and my least favorite of the three. A profoundly excellent writer, this Powers novel is cerebral, and can be a challenge to read. At times, amazingly engrossing, interesting, and insightful. At other times, simply confusing in pure Hobson-talk and Hobson-recollection. And at first, I enjoyed the Walt Disney flashbacks. But later, they became too much.
I recommend this book if you are in the mood for something articulate, intelligent, thought-provoking. Or if you are simply on a path to explore this legendary author. One reviewer on Goodreads was reading or rereading one of Powers’ 12 novels every month for a year. This is not a beach read. There will be times you will pause and reread a section, musing. If you do choose to read this, please help me understand the ending.
(p.s. I just ran across an article about this book and Family Systems Theory. The article did explain the ending to me, but now I wonder ... how did I miss this during my reading? And, what else did I miss? Huh.)
Geraldine Brooks | Fiction, 2002
360 souls live in this isolated village in England in 1665. By the time of “Leaf-Fall” 1966, two thirds have died from the Plague. This novel is based upon Eyam, a town in England where the Plague did hit and consumed many residents. Brooks builds a novel from a woman who is mentioned only briefly in the actual historical accounts, a maid to the Rector. Anna, our main character, is that maid.
An odd time to read a book about the Plague? Actually, it made me realize how fortunate we are. The Plague erupts in boils that burst. People generally live only about 24 hours once they contract the disease, and very few survive.
I thought this book was beautifully written. I love Brooks’ command of the English language, and her ability to contextualize it to 17th century England. Anna is extraordinarily well-developed as a character. I couldn’t help but love her. And other main characters are also rich and full.
Anna works not only as a maid to the Rector Michael and his wife Elinor, but soon is caring for the sick throughout her village and, once the local midwife is taken by the Plague, learns to midwife as well. Yes, there are times the Plague is graphically portrayed. Appropriately, I think. An interesting title for the year of the Plague, no? Year of Wonders. It tells you something about the author's orientation toward the Plague and how she tells the story.
Some reviewers did not like the ending. I won’t create a spoiler here, but I seldom question an author’s ending. They end it to tell the story as they see fit. I thought the ending made perfect sense.
This is a book that engages and will draw you in, because her writing is so rich. I recommend it fully.
Thank you, Mary, for sharing this read with me/us.
Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz | Nonfiction, 2019
I have joined another book club, “Decolonize this Book Club” sponsored by Embrace Bend. It has a very specific objective. We gather to read and discuss voices and stories of BIPOC (Black and Indigenous People of Color), 2SLGBTQIA+ folks, disabled folks, Jews and Muslims, Palestinians, migrants and refugees. Here is a link: https://www.embracebend.com/decolonize-this-book-club
The “young people” version of An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States for Young People is not as dense as the adult version, for sure. I had both in my possession for a while, so I compared a couple of chapters. However, the essence is well represented in the version for the youth. Plus, they added photographs, maps, etc. and best of all, activities such as: discovering how many indigenous words there are for “corn” (62), and common words that came from indigenous languages (I will let you find those on your own.) And seeing how many of the 573 sovereign nations in the U.S. you can name in three minutes (I was really bad at that).
I didn’t have this context in my brain: White supremacy as a concept has existed at least since the Crusades.
I didn’t know this: Colonists scalped and collected bounties for scalps. I thought it was only the Indigenous people who scalped. Boy, was that incomplete information.
I think the title of this book is a bit misleading. A more accurate title in my opinion would be A History of the United States’ Treatment of Indigenous Peoples. The “eye,” the “view,” in this book is from the perspective of the colonists and the United States, i.e, what actions they took that are not reported in our typical American History classes. What it doesn’t show us (and this may not be possible) is the view of a Cree, a Cherokee, a Ute, a Sioux, a Klamath, etc. What was it like to be peacefully raising your children, growing corn, eating bison, participating in spiritual ceremonies, and have your village invaded and burned down, your land taken, your children killed?
This is another book every American should read. I became sick and tired of studying account after account of colonists burning, killing, driving off, ignoring treaties, dehumanizing, slaughtering animals ... No wonder Trump signed an executive order to establish the “1776 Commission” and whitewash our history. Between this book and Caste, we learn some (much? most?) of our history is simply abhorrent.
William Sullivan | Fiction, 2012
William Sullivan CAN write fiction! I have read and perused numerous William Sullivan books, all non-fiction (see my recent review of Listening for Coyote), but this is the first fiction of his I have read. And yes, he is multi-talented. He can write trail descriptions, nonfiction, and fiction.
In this tale, we discover there are two D.B. Coopers ... the Good Cooper and the Bad Cooper. Portland police lieutenant Neil Ferguson leads the search for both of them. Sullivan has well-developed characters, with breadth and depth, and his take is interesting and somehow, credible, more than 40 years after D.B. Cooper hijacked a plane and parachuted out with $200,000 somewhere over the Pacific Northwest.
I finally decided to go with three hearts because I think The Case of D.B. Cooper’s Parachute is somewhat over-written. I think it could have been tighter, more condensed, a few characters lighter. If you are a Portlandian, or a frequent Portland visitor (I am not), you may particularly enjoy this mystery which, except for a brief foray to Russia, takes place almost exclusively amidst the landmarks and alleyways of Portland.
Margot Leitman | Nonfiction, 2015
I haven’t had this much fun reading a book since Me Talk Pretty One Day. I don’t know how it ended up in my hands. It simply appeared near the end of the list of 20 books I put together during quarantine, when I couldn’t access my favorite hangout in town, the Eastside branch of the library.
But there it was, on my “to read” pile, and I wondered why I wanted to read this book about effective storytelling. I didn’t fit any of the criteria she lists on page xxvii (why do authors label pages “xxvii”? Doesn't life begin on page 1?) for who should read this book. It is for people who make business presentations; are going on job interviews; want to tell stories onstage; are preparing to make a speech for a wedding or funeral; or who are dating. “Dating?” I asked with incredulity. “What does this book have to do with dating?” Then I realized that this book was going to help address one of my deeply held secrets about myself. I am boring.
Be prepared to read the short book with pen and paper in hand. There are many, many prompts, from ones I could easily answer ( _____ makes me cry. _____ makes me so angry) to real mind-benders like “Tell a story about a time I was proven wrong.” Wrong???
You will learn a lot about yourself, maybe create a juicy story, and have fun. Leitman is decidedly entertaining. But be careful when buying or requesting this book. There is a book with the same title that is ten-minute gospel stories for sharing with your children. Unless of course, that actually is the story you want to tell. “The time I bought a book that was the complete opposite of what I was looking for.”
p.s. I couldn’t help but think of many of my friends as I read this book. Leslie and Carol, who are simply enjoying writing. Charlene, who is working on her memoir. Jan, who revels in the form of 50-word stories. Bev, who writes stories and plays. And, above all, Joanne, who helps people tell their stories for a living. (Joanne ... this is an essential book for you! Yes, I will take my 45% cut.)
Have fun. Create, write, and have lots of fun.
Time to do kitty litter now. "Did I ever tell you about the time I was cleaning kitty litter and ....."
Ken Ilgunas | Nonfiction memoir, 2016
Longtime blog readers know I read a lot of books about trails, and the people who walk/hike them and write about their experiences.
Well, Trespassing Across America is about a long hike, too ... only there is no trail. Ilgunas decided to walk the XL Pipeline from its beginning in Alberta to its terminus in Texas. He walks prairies, ranchland, gravel roads, climbs an uncountable number of barbed wire fences, and simply uses his compass to walk south/southeast. He is walking for adventure, and he is also walking to raise awareness of the pipeline. And much of his walk is illegal.
Because he doesn’t wax eloquent about mountain peaks or other hiker’s trail names, and because there is only so much one can say about prairie land and cows, we also learn a lot about the history of the Great Prairie, oil, and environmentalism. Ilgunas is not a staunch environmentalist as the book begins. He is walking and listening to the people he meets in small towns and is open to all ideas and opinions and perspectives on the pipeline, climate change, and government in general. At least until page 190, when he finally takes a stand.
My Canadian readers might particularly enjoy this book, as he doesn’t leave Canada until page 117, so we learn quite a bit about Alberta, Saskatchewan, and the tar sands. And, intriguingly, he doesn’t see a “no trespassing” sign until he crosses the border into the US. Us US-types have an unusual relationship with the land we occupy and believe that we “own” and others should stay off.
This is a worthwhile, interesting, and educational read ...
William Sullivan | Nonfiction memoir, 1988
Over the next few years, it is my intention that my motor-home Udea and I visit many of Oregon’s parks that I have missed along the way. So, I thought reading Listening for Coyote, which is William Sullivan’s journal as he walks from the westernmost point of Oregon to the easternmost point, would be a fine inspiration. And that it is.
This book was published in 1988, the year Beryl and I made Oregon our adopted home. So, fitting for my Oregonian beginnings as well. Of course, things looked different when Sullivan made this 1361-mile solo backpacking trip in 1985. For example, dear Bendites, the Badlands Wilderness was not a reality then. And growing marijuana was illegal and done under circumspect circumstances in the wilderness.
As with other Sullivan writings, he is clear, accurate (or as accurate as one can be in the wilderness), and remarkably observant. This book is rich with tidbits like this, “This ancient Klamath shale is just the place to look for the fossil imprints of trilobites and sycamore leaves, since shale preserves fossils as neatly as wildflowers pressed in the pages of a dictionary.” (pg 68).
I give this book 3 hearts because if you are not an Oregonian and not a Sullivan fan, you might not appreciate it all that much. But my local friends who enter the mountains with pages copied from one 100 Hikes book or another, may just revel in his experiences. I did.
Isabel Wilkerson | Nonfiction, 2020
479 pages (includes 88 pages of notes, acknowledgements, a bibliography, and an index)
In a single word, powerful. I am floored by this book. Wilkerson presents a history of caste. Not race, but caste ... a ”stubbornly fixed ranking of human value.” (pg 24). There are only three examples of caste systems in the modern world. India, Nazi Germany, and the United States. She compares and contrasts these systems, spending most of her time on the US institution of slavery as a prime component of caste in this country.
Of the many, many things I learned, here are three.
- Slavery was in place in America for 12 generations. I knew how many years in my head, but the impact of seeing it in generations is profound.
- The United States served as the model for the Third Reich’s Nuremberg Laws. As they began to define the ideology, the early designers of the Nazi philosophy first looked to the US to understand how we were so effective at institutionalizing racism.
- The caste system provides offers an important explanation for the US 2016 elections. Suicide rates rose among middle-class whites in the late 1990’s as labor unions were eroded, more people of color and women took middle-wage jobs, and there was a general sense of “dominant group status threat.” Plus, a lower caste member rises to the highest station in the land in 2008. The bottom caste seemed to be rising, pushing upon the security of the castes above.
This is a hard book to read. While Wilkerson uses a lot of metaphor, especially early in Caste, to engage the reader, it still is not a story in the way The Warmth of Other Suns was. It is pure non-fiction. And the facts are extremely hard to take.
No question, I highly recommend this book to all of you. It could be required reading for every single student or teacher of American History. It is what “Patriotic education” should really be about … telling the truth. It teaches an important story we never, ever learned in fifth grade.
Lisa Gardner | Fiction, 2009
I ran out of books! Not wanting to drive to the library, I walked down to the bottom of my driveway, to the Little Library I put there on the corner (no surprise, I am sure), and grabbed this mystery to read. It is pretty good!
Sandy Jones disappears one night. Her four-year-old daughter Ree knows more than she is saying. Her husband Jason is, of course, a suspect in her disappearance and possible murder. Then again, the convicted sex offender who lives five doors away is also a suspect. As is the man Sandy had a short affair with. And then there is 13-year-old Ethan, who is in love with “Mrs. Sandra.” What role does he play?
It is an interesting story, and the resolution is clever, I think. This is one of a series of books written by Ms. Gardner about the Boston Police Department investigator, Sargent D.D. Warren. I don’t think the author does a good job at all developing D.D.’s character. The only thing we really learn about her is that she is, um, horny.
So, all in all, a fun and appealing read. Not compelling enough to go chase down more Lisa Gardner books. Read it for fun, but not for any great insight. (As an aside, I think someone turned off their creative genius when they titled this book The Neighbor. Seriously boring and not all that accurate. I would have titled it Steel Doors.)
I now have ten (10!) books in my to-read pile. What is next, I wonder? It is a mystery even to me!
Katherine Keith | Nonfiction memoir, 2020
Epic Solitude is a memoir by a woman who answers a call to find her purpose, her home, and her soul in the wilds of Alaska. She and her husband build a long cabin miles from a road, in the deep wilderness of Alaska. Alaska calls for so much strength, resiliency, sacrifice, hard work, self-knowledge, and the ability to stay warm ... I cannot even begin to imagine it! At one point, in the "Sheefish" chapter, Kat talks about her clothes, including boots that are three sizes too big, to get all her socks in, four tops, three pairs of long underwear, and mitts that are eight times her hand size so she can add so many layers.
Yes, she takes us on numerous dog-sled races across Alaska and into the Yukon Territory of Canada. And these are fascinating! And the book is much more than her physical adventures as a musher and an “iron-woman.” It is about her development from a young girl and a very troubled teen/young woman, struggling with depression, bulimia, and cutting. The first quarter of the book is hard to read at times, as Kat is really mentally unhealthy. But stick with it .... she does heal herself and grows into an unimaginably strong woman who faces and conquers many hardships in her adult Iife.
My three hearts is because I was looking for a wilderness adventure, and this is more the story of her life, and how the wilderness saves her. In truth, it is probably MORE than I anticipated. With that knowledge, you can begin this book with a clearer expectation of what you are taking on, and perhaps enjoy it at a four-heart level. I do recommend it, with that caveat.
Peter Heller | Fiction, 2019
This is the perfect book to read when you are housebound in hazardous smoke due to exploding wildfires. Wynn and Jack, friends since freshman orientation at Dartmouth, are spending a couple of weeks in August canoeing the Maskwa River in Canada, which eventually empties itself into Hudson Bay. Of course, it wouldn’t be a great story if all they were doing was fishing for brookies and picking blueberries. Instead, they rescue a woman who has a concussion, a dislocated shoulder, is bloodied and bruised, and is in shock. Is her husband the cause of these injuries? As they begin to paddle her downstream, they are about ten days away from a Peawanuck village and safety. Meanwhile, a crackling, smoky wildfire off the western bank grows closer and closer.
How they complement each other! Jack has a hunter’s instinct and can see movement on land far away; Wynn can read the water like a pro. As fly-fishers, Jack casts easily with grace; Wynn studies and calculates before he casts, cutting the water into quadrants. Wynn studies the arts at Dartmouth; Jack, engineering and math. But they both have an insatiable love of books, poetry, fiction, and of course, expeditions.
The writing is superb, visceral, urgent, terse. I couldn’t read it fast enough. Especially for those of you who are engulfed in smoke right now, Chapter 16 is amazing. It is when they are really IN the wildfire, and Heller writes about the brutal sounds of a wildfire. Spellbinding. I chose a quote that illustrates both his writing style and the intense love these two best friends have for each other, as Heller writes about paddling together. “Wynn notices that after a while he barely had to utter ‘hut’ before Jack switched and the paddles swung up and forward in perfect synchrony and their four hands changed position on shaft and handle midair and the blades hit the water at exactly the same moment ...” (chapter 11)
After finishing Nobody’s Fool, The River was a big breath of fresh air; a delightful and fast read. I highly recommend it. I want to thank Teresa for this recommendation ... AND for recommending Nobody’s Fool. Interesting, no, that we can agree so strongly on one book, and disagree so strongly on the other? I love that about books, and about friends!
Richard Russo | Fiction, 1996
Perversely, I finished it. It was in large part because I was confined to the house with the Air Quality Index in the 500’s. Thanks to the breath-stealing wildfire smoke, I finished it. However, I didn’t enjoy it at all.
The novel's main character is Donald “Sully” Sullivan, who is stuck in bad luck, as an unemployed construction worker with an arthritic knee that has him on disability, with a truck that is dying, a long-time mistress he doesn’t know what to do about, friends and a lawyer who are not very bright, and an estranged son, Peter, whose marriage is falling apart. And three odd grandsons. He does have an interesting relationship with his spry octogenarian landlady and eighth-grade teacher, Beryl Peoples (okay, I admit to a little bias in her favor due to her cool name).
Nobody’s Fool is mostly men expressing their caring for one another through negative humor. Sully, as the protagonist, does manage to pull himself out of this way of communicating occasionally, especially with the women in his life and his grandson, and you cheer him on every time he does so. Truthfully, I fell in love with Sully eventually. He kept trying to be human. In the end, however, there is no conclusion or obvious growth or resolution.
Sometimes I read reviews of books when I am partway in, if I am having difficulty either understanding the book or appreciating it. I did that with Nobody’s Fool and learned that Publisher’s Weekly loved it; felt it was “biting wit and potent insight” about blue-collar people in a small New York town. Kirkus was not so positive: “Russo's third <novel> is a slice of small-town life: thick slice, big cast, much bustle, but no story line, no climax, no epiphanies.”
I felt this compulsion to read this book, and I don’t know why. I struggled throughout its 549 endless pages. I know it is supposed to be funny (here I go again) but I did not find it funny to hear/read the interactions between not-very-smart men who often don’t understand a plethora of words or phrases, and who don’t get jokes, and who don’t know how to communicate, and who are decidedly not self-aware, and who are taken advantage of, and who devise their own wiles for surviving in a difficult world. I just didn’t find these interactions laughable. I found them tragic and difficult. Somehow, I was engaged enough to keep reading, all the way to the very end, but I cannot recommend this book.
Jodi Picoult | Fiction, 2018
Another Picoult masterpiece. She certainly doesn’t shy away from difficult subjects. A Spark of Light is about a single day at a women's health clinic that performs abortions.
We have wonderful characters in this book, such as Wren, who is at the clinic only to get contraception; her Aunt Bex who brings her; Joy, the woman who has an abortion this fateful day; Dr. Louie Ward, who performs abortions at the only remaining clinic in Mississippi where a woman can get an abortion; Janine, an anti-choice activist who is in the clinic under cover, trying to catch them on tape doing something wrong. A few other essential characters grace the pages of this story. Of course, there is George Goddard, the gunman who holds them all hostage, and Hugh, the police negotiator who is also Wren’s father.
The story of this fateful day, Hugh’s 40th birthday, is told backwards, hour by hour. We see what happens at 5:00 pm, then 4:00 pm, then 3:00 pm. It is an interesting design, I think. Instead of being focused on how the story turns out, we focus on how it is these individuals came to be where they are on this day. Effective, I think.
There was a time when I said “huh!” aloud, in the 1:00 pm section, when Dr. Ward muses, “This woman lying feet away from him would probably be surprised to know that she was not the first pro-lifer to walk into the Center. He had personally performed abortions on at least a dozen.”
There is a formula to a Picoult book. She takes a controversial ethical issue ... designer babies, high-school shootings, the death penalty, white supremacy, and, in this case, abortion, and she writes a novel with real people exploring both or all sides of the issue. I always feel just a little embarrassed when I am reading a Picoult novel ... interesting books; they make me think; but they aren’t exactly literature. Whatever the heck I mean by that. They seem to be written for the NYT Bestseller list ... Recall my posting (Nabakov’s Favorite Word is Mauve) about the NYT having “dumbed down” their target reading level to grade six from grade eight.
However, her books engage, educate, inform, and cause me to reconsider how much I think I “know” on a particular topic. I undeniably recommend A Spark of Light. Especially if you think you know a lot about pro-choice and pro-birth perspectives.
Richard Powers | Fiction, 2006
Mark Schulter, 27, has Capgras. Capgras is a psychological condition in which an individual believes someone they love and is important to them has been replaced by an imposter. Mark flips his truck on an icy road in February in Kearney, Nebraska and nearly dies, during the annual migration of the sand cranes landing on the Platte River and heading north for the spring and summer. Soon, his body is healing but this psychological condition remains. His sister, Karin, leaves her job the night of the accident to come care for him, and, yes, Mark believes Karin is an imposter ... a government agent who has been schooled in the ways and history of Karin and Mark, for reasons unknown.
We watch the sorrowful and frustrating story unfold, as Karin does all she can for Mark, who never trusts her and is sad and worried that his only sister has not come to care for him.
And then there is a note left by his bedside in the ICU. Who left the note? What do they know about how Mark flipped his truck? Did someone run him off the road? The note reads:
I am No One
but Tonight on North Line Road
GOD led me to you
so You could Live
and bring back someone else
So, there is also a mystery in addition to the dense relationship between brother, sister, caregivers, and lifelong friends in Kearney.
Also, there is a third major character, a neurologist, researcher, and best-selling author, who teaches at NYU School of Medicine, Dr. Gerald Weber. Weber, who Mark calls “Shrinky,” comes to study Mark, and perhaps to help. Many of us of a certain age just might relate to Weber's musings and discomfort. “Did I do enough in my career? Was my writing and publishing good? Did my research really inform anything? Did I exploit people in the process? How much of my work was just about my ego? Did my work matter? Can I actually do anything to help Mark? Am I done now? How do I know?”
I am becoming a Richard Powers fan. As with The Overstory, he writes smart. You don’t breeze through his books. There are times when I have to stop and reread sentences or paragraphs, especially, in The Echo Maker, when Weber is lecturing to his class or on the book-promotion circuit. Richard Powers is a physicist, which informs his writing in cerebral and intriguing ways. I must admit, I did research to fully understand the ending. I will be curious to learn if you understand the ending on your own!
I feel like, in reading this novel, I am reading something important; something that matters. Simultaneously I am drawn into Powell’s well-developed and differentiated characters. Yes, I fully recommend The Echo Maker. Yes, I am going to read another Richard Powers.
Cami Walker | Nonfiction, 2009
The author, Cami Walker, is diagnosed with MS just three weeks after her wedding to Mark. Two years later she is profoundly Ill, in debilitating pain, and struggling with many tragic symptoms of MS. After a move from San Francisco to Los Angeles, she begins to acquire new support, Western medical doctors as well as numerous Eastern and alternative practitioners. Her doctors decide, jointly with Cami and Mark, to take her off all but one of the 15 or 20 prescriptions she is on, and detox during an eight-day stay in a psychiatric wing. This is not the first time Cami has had to detox.
Along the way, her spiritual mentor and friend Mbali suggested she try 29 days of mindful giving. A gift a day ... the value is inconsequential ... it must be given with gratitude, from a place of abundance and not scarcity, mindfully, and from the heart. This is the story of Cami’s 29 days on this enlightening, healing, joyful journey.
No surprise, I found this book inspiring. I am intrigued by the idea of 29 days of gift-giving! Though I don’t know how to accomplish it during these days of seeing few people and not baking or otherwise touching objects to give away. I am camping right now, but when I have internet access again, I am going to www.29gifts.org and seeing what I can learn about how people embark on this journey during a pandemic. September 1 sounds like a good day to begin! This books was on some “how to feel better” list during Covid. I think it is worthwhile, though may not appeal to everyone.
Emily St. John Mandel | Fiction, 2014
This is a dystopian novel like no other. It will fill you with hope, gratitude for the world around us, and an appreciation for the relationships in your life.
Station Eleven moves back and forth between the current days, 20 years after civilization ends, and the weeks and months just before 99.9% of the world’s population dies of the Georgian Flu. Once infected with the Georgian Flu, people become sick within hours and die in one to two days. The flu arrives in Toronto the same night the famous actor, Arthur Leander, succumbs to a heart attack while performing King Lear at the Elgin theater.
And the stage is set for us to follow the characters who miraculously survive.
Survivors settle in small peaceful bands in abandoned towns near Lake Michigan and Lake Huron, in what was once Michigan. The Traveling Symphony is such a band, but it moves from town to town, playing classical music and performing Shakespeare.
This page-turner of a novel is haunting and melancholy, while simultaneously being captivating, tender, encouraging, and evocative. Emily St. John Mandel is a superb and elegant writer.
I absolutely recommend! Thank you, Carolyn for loaning me this memorable book.
Lily King | Fiction, 2020
Casey is 31. She is working as a waitress and has spent six years writing a novel. $72,000 in debt, she is living in a former potting shed in the Back Bay region of Boston. This is her story. Dating while being a writer is challenging – some writers won’t date other writers. Some share a passion and an ego. Casey has wonderful friends, male and female, who serve as supportive mirrors as she works to get her life together. Some reviewers call Writers & Lovers a coming-of-age novel. Coming of age at 31??? Well, actually, yes.
At first, I found the book and the writing trivial. It was so light, and so shallow to read about a young woman and her challenges with becoming an adult, finding a relationship, meaning, purpose, and success. And then I began to be pulled in. Her romances hooked me (Silas or Oscar?), and her challenges with writing were so very real. As the book progressed, I became more interested in her and more committed to discovering what she discovers. If you have any Boston in your background, you will find King’s descriptions of Boston and Cambridge delightful, as Casey travels by bicycle, so we see the river, the people, the squares, with a sense of photographic intimacy.
In addition to writing and dating, a major theme in this book is Casey’s grief over the recent death of her mother. Four of my friends/colleagues have lost their moms in the last year, and I have watched each work through their grief, with awe and intrigue. Like Casey, each experienced varying levels of sorrow, loneliness, anger, gratitude, maybe fear, and love. I have found their grief insightful and have learned from them. My mother died 41 years ago. I have yet to shed a tear or feel any sorrow over her death. Casey’s grief in this book is palatable, understandable, and educational, and for that I am grateful. I am a better person for having read this novel, with a better understanding of the possibilities for relationship between mother and daughter..
All told, I recommend Writers & Lovers: A Novel. It isn’t Herman Melville or even David Sedaris (though there is considerable humor in Writers & Lovers) but it is a book to enjoy. It will bring you hope.
N.K. Jemisin | Fiction, 2015
This was my second “alternative universe” read in the last few weeks, and I am quite glad I chose this one. I wasn’t looking for a science fiction or fantasy book when I happened upon The Fifth Season, I was looking for a fiction novel written by a Black woman, as part of my ongoing learning this season. And I found a distinct one, for certain. This is the first book in The Broken Earth trilogy. Jemisin earned a Hugo award for all three books in her series. She is the first writer ever to win a Hugo three years in a row.
On the continent, The Stillness, there are five seasons: spring, summer, fall, winter, and death. The people of The Stillness are always preparing for the fifth season which can last from months to more than a century. The main characters, sort of, are Syenite, Essun, and Damaya; strong and powerful women.
One of the elements of science fiction writing I don’t like is the endless war between factions. This was a relief from that tendency. There isn’t a battle, per se, in The Fifth Season, until right at the end. The people in this fantasy world, living on a fantasy continent, have powers. There are seven powers in all. The powers become like races, in that they distinguish and have their hierarchy of supremacy, one over the other. I began to get a sense how N.K. Jemisin’s race informed the essence of this tale. She speaks herself to this, here: http://nkjemisin.com/2015/08/creating-races/
Here is what one reviewer had to say, which I found after I finished the novel (Celline, NYX Book Reviews). ”A common thread throughout the novel is a commentary on race and Othering. To give a quick summary, theories around Othering try to explain how groups of people can be made to seem inhuman, not one of us, the Other. Throughout history, racial difference has often been used to treat groups of people horribly, a rhetoric employed to justify acts up to and including genocides. In The Fifth Season the racial Other is displaced unto the magical/powerful Other. It is not skin colour that sets people in this world apart (what we now would see as blackness or a mid-African phenotype is a point of beauty) but what they can do. While the characters face terrible injustices because of their capabilities, the reader feels that their powers are actually amazing and should be cherished.”
Reviewers who had criticism of this book didn’t like that the characters were not well-developed or very likeable. Somehow, that didn’t seem relevant to me. It didn’t feel like it was about the characters so much as it was about the society.
Part way through I wasn’t sure what she was talking about, and so I Googled some words: rogga, orogene, sessapinae. Imagine my delight to find that an author can make up her own words in her own book and with enough fame, Google and Wikipedia will define these words. How cool! Of course, when I arrived at the end of the book, I discovered there was a glossary of all her invented words. Oh.
I recommend this. It is a very odd read for me, and it will be for some of you also. The genre is officially “Science Fantasy.” I found the writing interesting, the tempo fast and engaging, the “not-knowing what is going on” a relief for my brain. I intend to read book two in the trilogy.
Neal Stephenson | Fiction
1992, 569 pages
I must have been in some interesting space during the building of my 20-book “the library is closed for the pandemic and I can’t get any books until it reopens” time. I have three “alternative universe” books currently in my pile.
I gave this one a really good try, 143 pages. The two major characters, Hiro and Y.T., are quite interesting. In Reality, Hiro delivers pizza and Y.T. skateboards by "pooning" on cars. Once I realized this book is about a possible time in the future, and I didn’t need to map it against current reality, I relaxed into the story. It genre is referred to as "cyberpunk."
Still, I reached a point where I asked, “Why am I reading this? I am not really enjoying it. The plot is very thin. If there is a message, it is probably hundreds of pages away. And what am I learning as I watch avatars interact with each other?”
And so, sadly, I hung it up.
Richard Powers | Fiction, 2018
The writing is exquisite. The range of characters is diverse and fascinating. The story line is ambitious, engaging, powerful, and thought-provoking. Except when it’s not (more on that later).
We meet nine (?) characters whose lives, in some way and at some time, are made richer and fuller by a tree. We learn how a tree(s) has shown up in their childhood, and the impact that tree has on their adult lives. Eventually, even though they enter a variety of lifestyles and careers, their relationships with trees cause each of them to become a “tree-hugging” activist, working against the destruction of trees, especially old growth trees in Oregon and the Northwest. This is where their lives, and our story, intersect. You will learn about trees, about people, about the sacredness of our planet, about passion and commitment, sorrow and confusion, love and longing.
As with many very long books, there comes a time when the book overwhelms. I think Powers veered off the path in a long section called “The Crown” where we follow our character’s Iives after the zenith of their time together as activists. I would have liked about 50 pages edited out around page 400. But, of course, eventually Powers gets back on track for the evocative conclusion.
I found the writing in this epic novel so mesmerizing, for 90% of the book, I decided to keep it at four hearts. Yes, definitely try this novel on for size.
Darynda Jones | Fiction, 2020
Sunshine Vicram was elected sheriff of her hometown, Del Sol, New Mexico. Which is pretty interesting, considering she wasn’t even a candidate, nor living there. So she and her daughter move from Santa Fe to the “guesthouse” her parents built for her behind their home in Del Sol, and both embark upon reestablishing themselves in a town that has buckets full of memories, some very painful.
We follow Sunshine as she searches for a missing girl, a missing boy, and, in the background, for the identity of the man who abducted her when she was 17. Okay, sounds morbid, eh? But it is not. This is a fun detective novel, reminiscent of Nevada Barr. Sunshine’s 14-year-old daughter Auri is a delightful, smart, major character, as in Sunshine’s BFF, Quincy. And the connections between and among the people of Del Sol are intriguing, reminding me of the town of Three Pines (Louise Penny).
I found the book surprisingly slow to start, but it picks up. Hence the three hearts. The last half is page-turning.
If Sunshine were a male main character, you would throw this book against the wall as offensive and misogynist. You will find you need to decide if you can actually like a main character who ogles every good-looking man she sees, and keeps a running commentary in her mind about his face, chest, muscles, ass. I enjoyed her hormone-driven fantasies, but don’t tell my friends. My feminism may come into question(!)
Colin O'Brady | Nonfiction, 2020
For someone with a deep fear of the cold (I have Raynaud’s and a slight drop in my core temperature means numb hands, toes, and tongue) this was armchair reading at its brilliant best! Colin O’Brady writes about his attempt to be the first person to cross Antarctica, unassisted and unaided.
I love first person accounts of epic adventures, such as Krakauer, Wells, Honnold, Strayed. O’Brady’s is marvelous. Well written, a page turner, and a powerful adventure sprinkled with some insights and memories. If you like reading about courage, commitment, grit, fear, and accomplishment in the wilderness (along with a potent love story), you will surely enjoy The Impossible First. Great on a hot summer day!!
Jason B. Rosenthal | Fiction Memoir
2020, 239 pages
Too saccharine for me. And Rosenthal can’t write.
This is the story of a widower whose wife published an article titled “You May Want to Marry my Husband” ten days before she died.
Toni Morrison| Fiction, 1970
I watched the PBS special on Toni Morrison, which is excellent, and it inspired me to reread The Bluest Eye. This is the story of Pecola Breedlove, a Black girl In America who has learned racial self-loathing at a very young age, and yearns for the pretty blue eyes that so many White girls have. While sad and insightful, rereading it was not as powerful or profound as I anticipated. If you have never read this first novel by Morrison, I do suggest it. As with all her novels, she tells the stories of being Black from the perspective of being Black. Black readers confirm they see themselves for the first time in literature when they read Toni Morrison.
Yoko Ogawa | Fiction 2003
(English translation 2009), 180 pages
This is a poignant and endearing tale about the Professor who was in an accident 17 years ago. He can remember things from before his accident, but since ... only exactly 80 minutes can he remember. Though many housekeepers don’t last long working with this odd man, one housekeeper manages to forge a brilliant relationship. The Housekeeper and her young son Root come to love this man.
The Professor is a mathematician, and though his short-term memory is gone, his mathematical brilliance remains fully intact. A central theme to this book is the Professor sharing mathematical principles and problems with his caretakers. It probably helps if you have a love for math like I do, or at least a willingness to enjoy its elegance.
Ogawa’s writing simply flows. An example. “I also like the way he wrote his numbers with his little stub of a pencil. The 4 was so round it looked like a knot of ribbon, and the 5 was leaning so far forward it seemed about to tip over.” Pg 62
I highly recommend this beautiful book for a summer afternoon.
Edward Carey| Historical fiction, 2018
Absolutely delightful. Mostly. I found Carey’s writing to be very readable and engaging. And throughout the book are drawings that truly inform the story. (You may not want to listen to this book, but see it visually …)
Anne Marie Grosholtz, soon to be nicknamed Little, was born in 1761 in Alsace, France. As a very young girl, her parents died and she is apprenticed to Dr. Phillipe Curtius, who becomes her mentor and who raises her. Curtius fashions body parts of wax, for use in the scientific and medical communities. But soon, he has an idea to make wax heads, and together Marie and Curtius move to Paris into the home of Widow Picot and her son Edmond, The Monkey House, where they make heads of local personages and also murderers.
Most of the book is about her years as a child, a teenager, and a young adult growing her professional skills, but hated by the Widow Picot. As news of her skill grows, Marie is called to the Palace of Versailles, where the royal family lives, and she befriends and teaches Princess Elizabeth. She lives in a cupboard ... apparently typical of "lesser" people at that time n the Palace.
Delightful writing and a delightful story. About two-thirds of the way in, the turbulent French Revolution throws everything into chaos, and Curtius and Little begin to fashion heads of men who were killed in the revolution. Here is where the book becomes a little less delightful. The author Carey explains the gore and the effects of the French Revolution, but gives no context ... no why, no understanding of the politics. It took him 15 years to write this book. I think he did so much research and knew so much that he lost sight of what his readers did and did not know. The Revolution was not explained, and I found that confusing and lacking.
Many reviewers call this tale macabre. I did not experience it as macabre so much as a story about creativity and innovation; about the development of a unique business proposition; and about bizarre relationships among very-well developed characters. Carey’s characters are rich and deep.
Around the same time that the book begins to explore the Revolution, I went on the internet, seeking to understand some terms and some people and only then discovered that Little is historical fiction, loosely based on the life of Madame Tussaud. I did not know that for most of the book!
I definitely think this book is worth your time. I remain somewhat astounded by the characters and the times in which they live. Little was recommended by my friend Mary who read it in her book club.
Robin DiAngelo| Nonfiction, 2018
I think I am behind my friends and colleagues in reading this book. It was on my list before the pandemic and before George Floyd, but I just read it now (in one Sunday afternoon). Yes, I believe we all should read White Fragility. You might not experience huge revelations, but it will definitely heighten your awareness about the white contexts in which we blindly live. Because I know my perspective is biased as a white, I looked for reviews written by people of color. One black reviewer said this book gave her hope. Another said he thought this book should be required reading for all BIPOCs because it explains so much about the dominant context.
DiAngelo explains what she sees as systemic racism and makes a case for it being systemic white supremacist racism. She sees white supremacy not as a fringe value, but something that is inherent in the system.
I really liked Chapter 10, which demonstrates fragility. How, if you must give me feedback about something I have said or done that might be construed as racist or race-ignorant, you should do so with kindness, and the right tone, at the right time, only after we have built trust, privately, ensuring I am safe, having acknowledged my good intentions .... otherwise I might cry (sucking all the energy and emotion to me instead of you, who felt the impact of what I said). Or walk away. Or get angry. Or sulk. Or disengage. Chapters 9-12, more specifically about fragility rather than systemic racism, are quite powerful and informative.
A difficult sentence I highlighted from the Introduction: I believe the white progressives cause the most daily damage to people of color. I define white progressives as white people who think they are not racist, or are less racist, or are in the “choir”, or already “get it.”
While I think her psychological, sociological, and interpersonal views are well-substantiated, some of the more factual components of our history are not her strong points. For example, DiAngelo says Affirmative Action never applied to private companies, only government agencies. Untrue. Private employers who do more than $50,000 business with the government, or who have more than 50 employees were required to develop Affirmative Action Plans. Where is her editor at Beacon Press, and who is fact-checking?
So, in conclusion, yes I recommend this book for anyone who is curious about themselves and their role in systemic racism. And it is neither a long nor a heavy. read.
Ivy Pochoda| Fiction, 2020
First, I digress. I wanted to say that this book is not good writing. But suddenly I realized, what does that mean? What is good writing? What is bad writing? How can I call a book good or bad writing? What the heck do I know?
So, I did some research. I found professors, authors, editors, publishers ... there is almost no agreement on what makes writing good. I often notice at book club someone will say a book was well-written, and someone else will agree. Now I wonder, what do they mean?
Here are six different lists of qualities of good writing ...
- Focus, development, unity, correctness, coherence
- Purpose, audience, clarity, unity, coherence
- Structure, ideas, correctness
- Voice, ideas, presentation, conventions, word choice, sentence fluency
- Bad writing is boring and defensive; good writing makes the reader vulnerable
- Good content, focus, precise language, good grammar
And here are some of the impacts of good writing ...
- Touches the reader
- Makes the reader richer
- Makes the reader want more
- Unveils the unexpected
- Gives insight
- Tells a story
- Makes the reader feel less alone
- Makes the reader ask for more
- Does something with the reader’s feelings
- Makes readers discover what they did not know
So, all of that does not help me assess what is “good” and what is “bad” writing. It feels rather scattered and somewhat subjective. I like writing to engage my mind and heart; interesting language; a sense of purpose; character depth (or depth of concept in nonfiction); ease; fast pace; a path to follow that builds on itself; correct grammar. How do YOU define “good writing”?
Now, on to These Women. We meet characters in bleak and gritty South LA who seem on the surface somewhat disreputable ... prostitutes, workers on the fringes of the sex trade, such as a dancer, a performance artist who douses her naked self with blue paint, the owner of a fish shack, and mothers and fathers of these professional women. And yet, they are all trying to survive in a violent and disrespectful world. Not all of them do survive.
That is where Esmeralda Perry comes in. Essie is a demoted vice cop who sees the patterns and recognizes a serial killer is at work in their midst. And then the mystery unfolds.
So, back to bad writing and good writing. I found the first half of These Women did not have much unity, coherence, connection, or focus. The characters, though deep and quirky, were presented individually, and were confusing. Dead hummingbirds, a white middle-aged female stalker, and a iPhone photographer add spice to their stories. Essie begins to tie the threads of their lives together, at the half-way point in this book, and then a story emerges. The killer, by the way, is not a big surprise, but does have a fascinating psyche.
Yes, it is worth a read about a slice of life you may be as unfamiliar with as I am. Just stay with the puzzlement of the first half. Recommended on NPR.
And let us know how you define “good” writing, please!
Trevor Noah | Nonfiction Memoir 2016/2019
I LOVE this book! If you want to read about a difficult subject, be sure you read it as written by a comedian. Born a Crime is Trever Noah’s memoir about growing up in South Africa during, and shortly after the end of, apartheid. With a black mother and a white father, Trevor was born mixed-race. It was illegal to be mixed-race, hence he was “born a crime.”
I read this book the Fourth of July weekend. It is absorbing. Noah tells such a good story, and you will learn much about the numerous and varied racial groups in South Africa, and the completely illicit distribution of power. It sounds depressing, doesn’t it? But not the way Noah writes it, through the eyes and actions of a child, teenager, and young adult. Noah is now the host of The Daily Show on Comedy Central, lives in New York City, and his book is truly educational and remarkable. I highly recommend it.
Two interesting facts. There is an adult version and a young adult version. Apparently there is little difference, except swear words like “shit“ are replaced with more socially acceptable words like “poop.” And my friends tell me the audio book, with Trevor Noah reading, is excellent.
Mary Lawson| Fiction, 2002
Crow Lake is described as a “slow-burning” novel. Set in rural northern Ontario, the story reflects the flat hardship of the terrain. Kate, her older brothers Matt and Luke, and her baby sister Bo are orphaned ... and survive together, alone, with the help of their local community. Twenty years later, the poignancy of their stories, and the ways they supported and abandoned one another in their tightly woven familial bonds, continue to impact their lives.
I enjoyed this story, though I won’t give it a wholehearted endorsement. It is a quiet story that will bring to mind your relationships with your siblings, if you have any. I was particularly enamored by the setting, as most of my family lives in Ontario. A personal favorite interaction, which may not bring a smile to your face unless you are Ontario-savvy, is this:
I said, “Haven’t you ever been up north?”
He pondered. “Barrie. I’ve been to Barrie.”
“Barrie! Good God, Daniel! Barrie’s not north!
Jenny Offill | Fiction, 2020
Recommended by my colleague and friend Dan, I don’t seem to understand this little book. Lizzie is a librarian in a University library. She helps her drug-addicted brother cope and maybe recover; she fantasizes about the end of the world and prepares for her “doomstead;” she clearly loves her son Eli and her husband Ben. Some reviewers say she is an amateur therapist, but I see no evidence of that in the book. She asks an insightful question sometimes. That’s all. There are many interesting sentences and paragraphs but no discernible plot. Reviews are mostly 5’s and 1’s ... not a lot of middle road. I will look forward to reading about what you liked about this book, Dan, and anyone else who read it and liked it.
Jennifer Finney Boylan | Nonfiction Memoir 2020
I thought Good Boy: My Life in a Seven Dogs was one of those sappy books where a dog and its owner fall inextricably in love and then at the end the dog dies and the reader weeps. Actually, I was hoping it was one of those books.
It isn’t. Instead it is exactly what it claims to be ... “my life.” It is a memoir of the author’s life, age 11 to age 60-ish. Dogs play an important role, but they are not the central characters. When the book begins, the author is James. When the book ends, the author is Jennifer. Remarkably, she spends nearly 30 years as James before she transitions.
This book is not the least bit preachy or political. It is simply an honest heartfelt story of one person’s life. There is nothing particularly remarkable about this person’s life, other than the obvious truth, and the fact that he and she had some of the most misbehaved and undisciplined dogs I have ever read about. Interestingly, this is at least the fourth memoir Boylan has written about her life (and her 16th book). She apparently tells her story though a variety of lenses, including parenting from both genders.
I enjoyed Good Boy very much. I don’t know how it would read if you have read any of her other memoirs, but this being my first, I found her writing style light, sometimes humorous, (especially about her crazy dogs), vulnerable, very self-aware, and insightful. I both learned and was entertained.
Beverly Daniel Tatum| Nonfiction, 1997/2017
Oh my, I thought I was in real trouble when I started reading this book. The first many pages were statistics and I kept falling asleep. Most of these statistics I already knew, but more important, they were boring to read. I finally wised up on page 44 of the 73(really?) page prologue to the new edition and flipped to the book itself.
I breathed a great sigh of relief. Here was the psychologist, the educator, the writer, the woman with a sociological perspective who wrote about people. Now I could engage with what she was saying. Beginning with differentiating between (individual) prejudice and (systemic) racism, Tatum sheds light on many nuances of racism, from how do you explain slavery to a four-year-old and an analysis of the voices in The Lion King to racial identity, Affirmative Action, and White Supremacy.
In the end, I went back and finished the prologue. The only reason to read the prologue first is if you are uncertain systemic racism exists and you need to be informed and convinced before you would care to read the book itself. Otherwise, save it for last.
I don’t want to recommend this book specifically. There is a plethora of books to read on this topic of racism, activism, identity, history. A library full. And I suspect you will find what I found. On a topic I feel I know something about, there is much, much, much more for me to learn. I don't care what you read. But if you do choose to read something, inspired perhaps by the murder of George Floyd and protests in most every town in our country and beyond, please tell us about it here.
Alix E. Harrow | Fiction 2019
I read a lot. I guess that is obvious if you are reading my blog. Sometimes, oftentimes, I will get into a book and then want to rush through to see what the next magic is in that pile from the library. When I find a book that invites me to slow down and savor every word, well, I simply fall in love. Such is my experience with The Ten Thousand Doors of January. I read it slowly, one chapter at a time. I didn’t want to rush.
January is a girl and young woman living in the early part of the 1900’s, who has a special connection to doors. She learns that doors are portals to “elsewhere.” Her father is off chasing artifacts around the world, while January is raised by a benevolent benefactor. But, of course, all is not as it seems.
This is another debut novel that delights. What is it about debut novels? There is something so fresh ... a new voice, a new intention. I usually have the sense that debut novelists choose every word and write every sentence very carefully.
I happened upon this book through one of those “if you liked that book, you will like this book...” references, with “that book” being The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern. The Ten Thousand Doors of January has less magic than Morgenstern’s books do, so I know that Harrow’s realism will appeal to some of my blog readers. I became a bit confused about what was happening around pages 250-300, but recovered by the end, and I sincerely recommend.
Sally Rooney | Fiction, 2018
This is the story of Marianne and Connell. We witness four years of their lives in Ireland, from school through university. They move in and out of each other’s lives, always good friends, sometimes lovers, sometimes not seeing each other for months. But yet, they understand each other. Deeply. In school, Connell was popular and well liked and everyone ignored Marianne. In University, the tables turned and Marianne came into her own, while Connell struggled with shyness and uncertainty. Both, by the way, are brilliant, which perhaps explains much of their attraction to one another.
I sometimes complain about lack of character development, and so I must give credit where credit is due. Sally Rooney has created two immensely rich and well-developed characters, both with flaws, both with gifts. The story is frustrating, as they cannot land on what relationship they want with each other. Sort of like a new jazz improv band that hasn’t figured things out yet. When they come together and play in unison, the music is good. Not yet great, but good. But when they spin off and do their own thing, nothing really clicks, everything is imperfect and out of sync.
My memory of my discovery of this book is indelible. It was March 15 and my friend Carol and I were in Dudley’s bookstore downtown for a cup of tea. We were sitting far apart and didn’t hug and yes, the next day Oregon went into lockdown. On this, my last excursion into the world for a long time, Normal People was propped open on a shelf with a recommendation from a Dudley’s staff member.
I didn’t know how I was going to rate this book until the last page. I give it three hearts. It comes with my recommendation, with a bit of hesitation. It is well-written and an interesting read, but is ultimately unsatisfying in some way. Oftentimes relationships do not fall into easy, explicable molds. This is true for Marianne and Connell. Normal People will make you think.
Chanel Miller | Nonfiction 2019
On January 17, 2015, Chanel Miller (known to the public as Emily Doe) was sexually assaulted outside a fraternity house at Stanford University. This is the true story of the next four years of her life, as told by Chanel.
Wow. I have not been sexually assaulted. I thought I knew intellectually what it was probably like to be living with this experience. What I didn’t know could fill a book. Literally. This book is powerful, educational, and a page-turner. It is an amazing crafting of a memoir. Chanel’s mom, a Chinese immigrant, tells her at one point, “Good and bad things come from the universe holding hands. Wait for the good to come.” (P 138). This statement foretells a long, difficult journey.
Miller’s victim statement was read aloud in the US House of Representatives. Miller was interviewed on 60 Minutes, and Know My Name graced the NYT best seller list, Washington Post’s Top Ten Books of 2019, and “best-selling books” in the Wall Street Journal and USA Today.
The story is not easy to read, truth be told. And her story must be read. It is important, compelling, and engaging. One reviewer called it “Unapologetically large.” I highly recommend Know My Name.
Mark Kurlansky | Fiction, 2006
A Review in two words: discombobulated and boring. I finished it only because it is a book club read. I kept telling myself I “should” enjoy this more. The title, The Big Oyster, is a play on the nickname, The Big Apple, which is a dead giveaway about the topic of this book. While I adore oysters, Kurlansky’s book is really the story of the history of New York, which is among the more boring topics I can think of.
A number of professional reviewers gave it high ratings. But I also like to peruse Goodreads, which is filled with reviews by regular people, not book reviewers. The Big Oyster has a pretty low overall rating on Goodreads, at 3.9. The readers who liked it became fascinated by the topic and were pulled in.
The one, two, and three star reviews on Goodreads were very similar to my assessment. Unfocused, with digressions stemming off from other digressions. This is more a history of New York through the lens of the oyster, than the story of the oyster itself, which would have been shorter, more pointed, less wandering. And IMHO, less boring.
The moments I DID like were the oyster recipes. Here is a bit from one of the oldest recipes in the book, from an anonymous writer, mid-1600’s. (Page 68). “Shelle oystyrs into a pott and the sewe therwith. Put thereto fayre watyr; perboyle hem. Take hem up; put hem yn fayre watyr. Peke hem clene. Blaunch ...”
Clearly, I cannot recommend this book. However, if you are fascinated by the history of New York City, you might love this book, for it tells the history in quite a unique manner.
Laura Lee Hope | Fiction 1913
Laura Lee Hope is the pseudonym for a group of authors who wrote The Bobsey Twins, The Outdoor Girls, and five other multi-book series for children. When my Aunt Helen died in 2009, I found a box of The Outdoor Girls in her basement. She had 19 of the 23-book series, published between 1913 and 1933. She signed them “Helen Sigetich” and often included a date, 1926 in the first one, or her address, 6550 McGraw. I bought three more to fill in the gaps, but have not yet put my hands on the rare 23rd volume, The Outdoor Girls in Desert Valley.
I read three of them over the last few days, to see what these century-old stories were like. I am impressed with the number of adventures the girls find themselves in, from discovering a lost $500 bill with a note attached, to finding the truth about the white ghost with chains on Elm island. The authors use big words like obdurate and auspicious, and, even as a mature adult in another century, I did not feel talked down to.
It was fun to explore this series of books, set in a time when telephones were not yet in every home, much less any other technology.
I am most curious to know if any of you read this series while a young person? I read The Hardy Boys religiously, and an occasional Nancy Drew, but never anything by Laura Lee Hope. What do you remember?
Nicholson Baker | Nonfiction, 1986 & 2010
It was funny! Yes, this is not a guest blogger! I, Andrea, found this book funny. It is allegedly the story of one escalator ride up to the Mezzanine where our narrator works, but of course that in and of itself would not create a book. So, instead, he goes back to his past, his childhood, to relay stories about the most mundane things. He begins by exploring the CVS bag in his hand, which has shoelaces inside and takes him back to learning to tie his laces. We move on to explore a multitude of items and actions, including, but not limited to, glass milk bottles and the brilliant discovery of coated cardboard with a little V that you make at the top; learning how to turn a t-shirt right side out; the grooves of LP records, and the grooves made by ice skates; how to put on deodorant when you are all dressed; Lorna Doones in the vending machine; the evolution of drinking straws, etc., etc.
We first learn his name when someone greets him as he is peeing at a urinal in chapter 10. It is Howie. Howie is OCD, analytical, and/or has an amazing memory for the little, intricate, repeatable stuff of life. This is all about the little stuff of life.
The Mezzanine has many footnotes, which were quite enjoyable, except a bit hard to navigate in an ebook. Because there was no plot, but only rambling observations, the book became a little tedious for me. Still, Baker is quite a clever writer. And I did laugh often!
Book # 20 during stay-at-home.
Emily St. John Mandel | Fiction, 2020
As The Glass Hotel opens, we meet Paul. We follow Paul from Toronto to a very small town (Caiette) on the very tip of Vancouver Island BC, and back again. And then the time changes. What year are we in? Mandel switches locations, time, and, most important, characters, in a manner that is scratch-my-head confusing. About page 100, I was ready to give up. But I persisted.
For a significant portion of the book, (maybe one-third?) we follow Vincent, Paul’s half-sister. Vincent is the most interesting character in The Glass Hotel. Or, more precisely, she finds herself in the most interesting circumstances. She leaves The Glass Hotel in Caiette, where she works as a bartender, with its wealthy owner, Jonathan Alkaitis, to go to New York and enter the “kingdom of money.” She and Jonathon pretend they are married for three years, until Alkaitis receives a 170-year prison term for designing and managing a Ponzi scheme. Later, Vincent decides to be a cook on a cargo ship.
Her circumstances are interesting, but I don’t think Mandel does a good job of developing characters. Her work with Vincent is the best, but I don’t know much about Vincent’s personality or her feelings or her inner thoughts. We only see her actions. And Alkaitis is just a caricature of a sweet rich guy running a Ponzi scheme.
It feels like Mandel’s book is making a statement, rather than writing a story. However, I am at a loss. The intention of the book in unclear to me, though some reviewers say it points to the capriciousness of life, and so is particularly appropriate for these times.
It wasn’t boring or particularly hard to get through. I just found it rather vapid. I can’t recommend it, I must admit. Though, as always, I look forward to hearing from those of you who loved it!
From The Atlantic, Ruth Franklin: The Glass Hotel is a jigsaw puzzle missing its box. At the book’s start, what exactly it is about or even who the major figures are is unclear…
Raynor Winn | Nonfiction 2018
I love reading journeys of people who walk long trails, whether one of the big three here in the US, in Canada, the Gobi desert, or the Via Francigena. But this is a different kind of long trail journey. There was no hiking with bricks in the backpack to get ready, no planning, no packages of food sent to stops along the way, no farewell party.
Ray and her husband Moth, in their 50s, decide to travel the 630 miles of the South West Coast Path in England when they lose the home and farm they had restored and where they raised their two children, due to a failed investment with Moth’s best friend. They used up all their savings fighting for their home for three years, but ultimately lost the battle. Suddenly, they were penniless and homeless. But four days before that fateful day when the bailiffs arrive to take their home, they had worse news. Moth was diagnosed with a debilitating and terminal disease.
This is their true story as they embark upon a journey to figure out what is next in their lives. And it isn’t a pretty journey. They are neither physically nor psychologically prepared, and they had only the mere basics of backpacking supplies, purchased from eBay. But they had grit. Boy, they had grit.
The Salt Path shifted again my view of homelessness. To a person (almost) the people they meet physically back away the moment Moth or Ray tells them they are homeless. As though it is catching. As though they must be drug addicts or lazy, or as one man says, “tramps.”
I thought Ray Winn’s words were a little long at times, as happens when someone writes their own story. But they were also beautiful, descriptive, artful even, especially as she describes in vivid detail the land, the birds, and the people they meet.
On page 268 I gasped aloud when a small monumental thing happens. I was moved by this book. It will stay with me for a while. It is a story of challenge, devastation, hope, deep love, truth and, of course, grit. Thank you to my wonderful friend Mary for, once again, recommending a real winner.
Lisa Wingate | Fiction 2017
I just reread this book in preparation for book club. (Earlier review below). Loved it the second time through. Book # 16 during stay-at-home.
The Tennessee Children’s Home Society operated a black market adoption agency in the first half of the 20th century, often kidnapping indigent children, glorifying and misrepresenting their pasts, and selling them for a huge profit to wealthy and often famous adoptive parents. This much is known to be true.
Before We Were Yours tells the fictional, though representative, story of five children who lived on the riverboat Arcadia and were kidnapped from their home in 1939 by the Tennessee Children's Home Society. Rill Foss, 12, is the eldest child. And, it tells the story of modern day lawyer Avery Stafford, the daughter of a US Senator, who discovers there may be some hidden secrets in her well-to-do and politically successful family.
This is an extremely well-told story that will hold your attention in the alternating chapters about Rill and Avery. It is sad yet ultimately hopeful. I recommend Before We Were Yours enthusiastically.
JK Rowling | Fiction
I have been rereading Harry Potter. Delightful in this time of seriousness and sadness and challenges. It feeds my soul.
I reread the first four and will now take a break and enjoy some other written adventures before embarking on the last three long books. Maybe the next time we are staying at home again (this summer, this fall?) I will reread Outlander for more good escapism!
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. 1997, 309 pages.
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. 1998, 341 pages.
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Askaban. 1999, 435 pages.
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. 2000, 754 pages.
Jane Harper | Fiction 2018
I read the four-page prologue to Jane Harper’s novel The Lost Man and, though I was sitting in my reading chair with my dogs at my feet, I was transported to the Australian Outback. I was slightly disoriented; her writing was so powerful, I was there, in the Outback.
Brothers Nathan and Bub Bright meet each other at the fence line separating their cattle ranches in the Outback of Australia, to find their third brother Cameron dead at the stockman’s grave. What was he doing out here, his Range Rover nine kilometers away, in a land where you can barely be outside your car during the heat of Christmas week and survive? How did he die? Why did he leave his car? Was it suicide? Something more nefarious?
The scale of the land and the scale of the story both impressed me. It takes four hours to drive from one end of Cameron’s land to the other, and Nathan’s land, not as large, abuts it. It is a very lonely place with dirt tracks for roads. The driveway to the family home where Cameron lives with his wife, two children, his mother, a longtime manager, and his younger brother Bub, is 29 km, 12 miles long.
The narrative is about family dynamics and the discovery of what happened to Cameron, but there is so much more in the story than Cameron’s ill-fated journey. Harper explores love, loyalty, family abuse, and the unique art of living isolated in very rough land, hours away from others.
One reviewer’s words: “part family drama, part indelible ode to the Outback.” I can’t help but recommend this book. Yes, I am enamored by the Australian Outback, which made it doubly pleasurable for me to read. Yes, there is mystery. Yes, it is a gripping story with wonderful rich characters. Yes, it is worth your time.
Louise Penny | Fiction 2007
As with my other two Louise Penny reviews, Still Life and A Fatal Grace, I enjoy the village of Three Pines near Montreal and it’s delightful residents, and Armand Gamache, the Chief Inspector who shows up for every murder; but I don't find her stories quite compelling enough. They are sweet mysteries. Again, I will use the word “gentle.” If you are a Penny fan, and I know some of you are, The Cruelest Month is as good as Penny delivers ... you will enjoy. There is an important denouement in this book.
This is my 11th book completed in the time of quarantine. I am looking forward to picking #12. I still have my (dwindling) pile of unread books stacked with their spines against the wall, so this afternoon I will pick at random my next read!
Lest you think I am just whiling away my shelter-at-home reading hours consuming delightful novels, I thought I would share the three non-fiction books I have read so far.
Reverse Mortgages by Wade Pfau, 2018, 142 pages
I have been considering a reverse mortgage for years. But now, with my retirement accounts down 16%, I am getting serious. I have been educating myself and found a really good resource that is not written by a mortgage broker or loan officer. Wade Pfau is a PhD, Professor of Retirement at the American College of Financial Services. His book debunks many of the myths associated with reverse mortgages and explains them in (mostly) lay-person language. The money available to us in retirement consists of our retirement portfolio + social security + pensions + home equity. Home equity has a large role in this equation for many of us, and need not be ignored. I am now definitely taking steps to initiate a reverse mortgage. This book is useful for any US homeowner.
Watercolor Without Boundaries, by Kathryn Holman, 2010, 176 pages
This is my second Holman watercolor book, and I must admit I like her style. Watercolor Without Boundaries is dense, with a lot of technique in it. The second half includes quite a bit about adding collage papers, etc., which I am not ready for yet, but I have a plethora of painting ideas to try from her lovely work! Only a few of my readers will find this book appealing.
Chess for Dummies by James Eade, 2016, 391 pages
I am really glad Marian and Lois and I decided to learn chess at Chess.com, as the lessons are visual, instructional, and interactive. Chess for Dummies, however, is great to have as a reinforcement and a reference, when you forget what a pin, a fork, and a skewer are. Only for those very few of you who have “learn chess” on your bucket list.
I own all three of these books, so if you want to borrow one, please let me know!
Anne Griffin | Fiction 2019
This is our Deschutes County community read for 2020. As always, the selection committee did a fine job. This is the 17th year we have had a community read, and I haven’t missed one. When All is Said is a short book, and a very sweet read. I cried at the end of the first chapter, and again at the end of the last. I think it is quite a testimonial to the author to have imbued such caring in me, the reader, that after just one chapter, I am emotionally affected.
This is Maurice’s story. 84 years old, each of the five middle chapters in When All is Said is a toast to someone very important in his life. Through these toasts, we learn his history and the history of his family. The toasts are to: his older brother Tony; the baby he and Sadie lost, Molly; his sister-in-law Noreen; his son Kevin; and, of course, his recently deceased wife, Sadie.
His life, which is in Ireland, is not all that extraordinary or unusual, yet Griffin tells it with such grace and sensitivity, it is moving. A beautiful and insightful book about grief, love, legacy, and joy.
This is another astounding debut novel. I wonder what will be next from Anne Griffin. She was supposed to present here in Bend in early May, flying over from Ireland. I know that will not happen now. I look forward to seeing what we substitute. I hope there is a video or a Zoom with her.
Madeline Miller | Fiction 2018
Circe is born to Helios and Perse as an odd child. She seems a god without power, without beauty, without much to make her attractive to her family or the sea of nymphs and gods who surround her as she grows up. But she discovers she is a witch and learns to love mortals who love her back. To resolve a feud, Helios and the great god Zeus create a pact, and a part of that pact is Circe is banished to the isle of Aiaia, where she is to live alone, amidst lions and pigs and laurels and flowers. It is here she really hones her occult skill of casting spells.
Of course, she is exiled, but that doesn’t mean she cannot have visitors. She crosses paths with many of mythology’s greats ... the Minotaur, Daedalus, Icarus, Hermes, Athena, and a central figure of this period of her life, wild, wise, and violent Odysseus.
This is a beautiful, intoxicating, and brilliant book, extremely well-written and a page-turner. Miller is an exquisite author. My only regret is that my book club did not select this book last year; it was recommended by Linda. Absolutely, Circe is a meaningful and powerful mythological read, and a tale of women's power. I recommend it highly.
Book #5 of the quarantine time.
Colin Cotterill | Fiction 2019
Dr. Siri Paiboun is the National Coroner of Laos, retired. In this book, set in 1980, Dr. Paiboun and his wife Daeng are first threatened through a note attached to the tail of their dog Ugly. It is written in English, so it takes a few days for them to find a translator. Suffice it to say, Siri, and everyone he knows and loves, could lose their lives to someone seeking violent revenge in the next two weeks.
But who wants him dead? To search for the answer, we travel back to Paris in 1932, Saigon in 1956, and Hanoi in 1972, though we spend most of our time in Vientiane, Laos, where Siri lives. Life goes on as usual. He and Daeng run a noodle shop, and Siri’s best friend Civilai, as well as the chief of police and other important characters, all work to find the revenge-seeker.
I like Cotterill’s writing! His story is good, well-paced and interesting, and his writing is captivating. I actually laughed a few times, and this isn’t designed as a funny book ... it is designed as a mystery. Here is one of my favorite examples of Cotterill’s writing, “It’s called brainstorming,” said Siri. “You just say things for no apparent reason until you accidentally stumble upon a truth. It’s like politics.” (pg. 153)
So, why three hearts instead of four? My fault, really. I didn’t realize this was the 14th book in a series! There isn’t enough character development or context for me to really understand the nuances of the relationships, their history, and the town. If you are interested in exploring the Siri Paiboun series, you might want to start with the first book, The Coroner’s Lunch, written in 2004.
Graeme Simsion | Fiction, 2014
Don Tillman is an Australian genetics professor who is obsessed with measurements, numbers, a high need for sameness and predictability, and schedules. He times and plans everything to the minute. The inference is that he is a highly functioning person with Asperger’s Syndrome. Since his interpersonal skills are very poor, a fact which he fully recognizes, he cannot find and hold on to a romantic partner. And so he creates a questionnaire in his “Wife Project,” designed to eliminate women who do not meet his exacting standards for a wife, and, surely, to find some good candidates.
Predictably, he meets Rosie, who does not meet the criteria ...
While I acknowledge that this novel provides hope for people on the autism spectrum, I am hard pressed to recommend it for the typical reader. I found it rather unimaginative. The professor laughs at himself and his faux pas over and over and over again. I might call it, well, “cute.” The outcome is fully present in the unfortunate title, so you know from page one what is going to happen. Now, I laughed once, so I suspect this book may be entertaining because it is funny. But, regular blog readers know me ... if it is funny, I can’t tell!
My apologies to my friend who recommended this. Life is interesting ... I am glad our tastes differ at times!
James Patterson & Maxine Paetro | Fiction 2019
Well, wasn’t this fun! I took my nine books from the library and put them on the counter, spine side to the wall, so I couldn’t read the titles. And then I picked at random. Monday’s pick was this New Women’s Murder Club Mystery, what fun!
As always with Patterson & Paetro, this was a very light read. A little murder and mayhem to brighten your day. The women in the Women’s Murder Club, and their spouses, are always heartwarming and delightful. In this mystery, a Christmas Day heist was in the making. The mastermind behind it, Willy Loman (yes, puns were intended) facilitated the placement of many false leads, driving the detective team, Including Lindsay Boxer, all over San Francisco, in their attempt to discover and head off the heist. Of course, in the end, the good “guys” win.
This is my third “isolation” book.
Bernardine Evaristo | Fiction 2019
This is an homage to what it means to be black, British, and female. It is an astonishing and daring novel, both in style and content.
Stylistically, each chapter is the story of one woman. Their lives overlap, but that isn’t really the core of the novel. (Though the magic of the overlapping does shore up the end.) The core is each woman’s life, and her challenges, joys, struggles, successes, and failures with education, friendship, love, sex, career, race, and family.
Evaristo uses no periods or beginning-of-sentence capitals. She claims it makes the novel a hybrid of poetry and prose, a nod to how we communicate on the internet, and a more lyrical way for the characters to interact ... Truth be told, I think she is correct. There is something freeing and flowing about this style.
The content, however, is what makes Girl, Woman, Other so powerful. Some reviewers marveled at how Evaristo presented different voices for her 12 main characters. I didn’t it experience it that way. I experienced it more as one voice, with many nuances, but an astounding number of similarities.
I think what made this book so intriguing for me ... and may make it so for you ... is that her characters barely overlap with my life experience. And so, it was fascinating. All(?) the major characters are black. Their ancestors came from Africa or the Caribbean to London. They are mostly feminist (that point I can relate to!) Some are very radical feminist. Most are lesbian, although a couple were only experimenting. Many became mothers. Most, though not all, are not terribly successful in careers. All had significant challenges to overcome with regard to race. Yes, there are also Muslims, trans people, and men in the stories! The character’s lives span a century, though most are set in the modern day.
Some reviewers call this book “hilarious.” I only laughed once, but you know me, this book may have been quite funny, and I could have easily missed it.
I wasn’t sure while reading it who might like this novel. I finally concluded that it is possible everyone, regardless of gender, orientation, race, or age, might find something to love. I sure did.
Washington Post, Ten Best Books of 2019
Timothy Egan | Fiction 2019
I am an atheist with an unhealthy aversion to history. So, how is it I could like Timothy Egan’s A Pilgrimage to Eternity at a three-hearts level? Because it is superbly written! And if you like history, you’ll give it four hearts. If you have a particular passion for the history of Catholicism, well, you will be in seventh heaven (yes, pun intended). I gave the other Timothy Egan I attempted, The Big Burn, a single heart, so this is real progress.
Timothy Egan takes off on the 1200 mile Via Francigena, from Canterbury to Rome, in search of his own spiritual beliefs. This is a trail of sorts, like the Camino de Santiago, only much less well-known. Egan walks most of the route, stays often at monasteries, and sees an inordinate number of statues, churches, Cathedrals, relics (yes, those are bones of saints), plaques, stones, arches, bridges, cadavers, and assorted other items that tell various tales of Catholicism and Christianity. You will read about battles and beheadings, popes and princes, intellect and instability.
And what kept me enthralled is how he mixes his experience of this ancient pathway with his current life. He connects his learning with our modern-day struggles and tells tales from his youth. Even more intriguing to me, he talks about the food he encounters along the Via Francigena, and the difficulties and joys his body experiences in (mostly) walking 1200 miles. So, it is a sort of long-hike travel journal, and we witness blisters and turning back when the weather becomes extreme and the joy of a stunning view. We read about pastries and cappuccinos and, of course, wines, as he travels England, France, Switzerland, and Italy. To give you a flavor, on page 138 he describes the items on a menu on Langres, France, which includes “frogs ... not frog legs, but the whole slain amphibian … and duck terrine with ‘trumpets of death’ “ All this and, too, we bear witness to Egan's search for his spiritual and religious beliefs. What does he believe? And why?
An essential message appears on page 64 and again at the end. It comes from Labre, the patron saint of wandering souls, “There is no way. The way is made by walking.”
Thank you to Ralph from water aerobics class for this interesting recommendation.
Ottessa Moshfegh | Fiction 2018
Some found it amusing, some bemusing. Let’s face it, this is a dark book about a privileged woman who is severely clinically depressed and designs her life so she can spend a year sleeping and popping an extraordinary number of pills prescribed by an irritating and unethical psychiatrist, who is devoid of values. The narrator’s sometimes boyfriend and best friend are nearly as dysfunctional as the psychiatrist.
I came back from yoga class this evening and couldn’t even pick it up. It was simply too depressing, and also too unrealistic. I was hoping the psychiatrist would be the real thing, and we would watch her attempt to help our narrator. Instead, the psychiatrist is a caricature, and the narrator takes advantage of this.
Someone recommended this to me, but I can’t for the life of me remember who, which is probably good.
Elizabeth Strout | Fiction 2019
Crosby, Maine is a small bucolic town right on the ocean. Olive, Again tells the story of many of the people who live there. If you read Olive Kitteridge, you will recognize the style. Olive, Again is actually the sequel.
As in the earlier book, there is no plot as such, but there are 13 stories of people in Crosby. Olive Kitteridge is the thread that ties these stories together. She is central in some chapters, an important character in others, and makes only a fleeting cameo appearance in some.
Caustic, witty, sad, kind, insightful, mean, opinionated, gleeful, loving, discounting, sometimes a deep listener, sometimes she doesn’t listen at all; we follow Olive as she ages from 73 to 86 in this book. Her edges have softened from the original Olive Kitteridge.
Strout’s tales are fascinating. The characters who live in Crosby Maine are not all that quirky or original, and yet they are each totally fascinating. We have Andrea, a former Poet Laureate of the US; a Somalian woman, Hamila, who works as a home health worker; Kayley, a teenager who cleans houses and allows an old man to see her breasts; a couple who have lived together for 42 years, but for the last 35 have used yellow duct tape on the floor to divide her space from his space and who talk with each other by making comments to their dog; a guest at a baby shower who goes into labor herself during the shower and has her baby in Olive’s car before the ambulance arrives. And of course we have Olive’s second husband Jack who gets a speeding ticket for driving his sorts car too fast and cannot understand why his daughter is lesbian. There is also a dominatrix and a few people who have gone “dopey-dope.”
As Olive and her connections in Crosby have aged, there are also quite a few widows and widowers, including Olive herself. Their stories left me feeling hopeful. They live normal, if lonely, lives.
This is a wonderful book. Sprout is a gifted and brilliant writer who won the 2009 Pulitzer Prize for Olive Kitteridge and has written five other well-regarded novels. Yes, definitely read Olive, Again.
Louise Penny | Fiction 2006
No one in Three Pines liked CC DePoitiers. But someone hated her enough to electrocute her in the middle of the Boxing Day curling match out on the lake. Armand Gamache is called upon to solve his second murder in the enchanting Canadian town of Three Pines. CC is an arrogant self-appointed guru who believes enlightenment comes from burying all emotions. No wonder she left enemies everywhere she went.
Once again, I found Penny’s writing fun and delightful. I read the entire novel as I was traveling from Bellingham Washington to home, a 14-hour trip, on Amtrak and a bus. Her writing is light. Maybe too light, given the plethora of books waiting to be read. This is the second novel in the series. I think I will read one more.
Unfortunately, I thought it was clear from the beginning who the murderer was, even though the reveal doesn’t come until the last couple of pages. Penny’s hints were too obvious to me. Of course, that doesn’t hurt the charm of the characters in Three Pines or the wittiness of the victim and why she was murdered. But the suspense was dampened.
Allen Eskens | Fiction 2015
The Lexus jumped the median In Minneapolis and crashed headlong into a Porsche. That’s what happens when you are busily having sex and driving at the same time. When the Highway Patrol arrived at the scene, they found the two occupants of the Lexus half-naked but still alive. The poor guy in the Porsche, James Erkel Putnam, was driving in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was dead. Only, it turns out, he was not actually James Putnam. Who was he? That’s when the mystery begins.
Detective Alexander Rupert was recently demoted to the Fraud unit, due to his suspected theft of cash from his dealings with dealers in Narcotics. But this juicy case lands in his lap, as he tries to figure out who was masquerading as James Putnam. And why Putnam was so rich.
The story is good; Esken’s writing again engaging. I read the whole book while Amtraking up to Bellingham, Washington. I marked it three hearts instead of four because the bad guy killed people gratuitously. There was just more murder than necessary. For example, he needed to get Putnam’s girlfriend out of their house for a day, so he killed her mother. To me, it felt like Eskens was simply being lazy. He could have had the assassin break Mom’s hip or some such.
All In all, a good story with a diabolical plot.
Blake Crouch | Fiction 2019
I learned a new phrase in reading about Recursion, “speculative fiction”.
The book opens on November 2, 2018, when Detective Barry Sutton arrives to the 41st floor of a New York City skyscraper and attempts to stop the suicide of a woman whose legs are dangling over the edge. Ann Voss Peters has FMS, False Memory Syndrome, and she can no long cope with the life in her false memory.
And then we meet Dr. Helena Smith, in October of 2007. She is a brilliant scientist whose mom has Alzheimer’s, and Helena is trying to build a machine that will allow Alzheimer’s patients to revisit and retain memories. Eventually, she builds such a machine, but it does more than expected. It allows patients to visit the memories and change them, with, of course, disastrous unintended consequences. And so we enter the world of speculative fiction. To enjoy this tale, you’ll need to be able to suspend your current reality and believe this alternative reality.
Over time, as we vacillate between current days and ten years ago, we discover that someone can change the past, but then, on the day they do so, they suddenly recall all the various paths they have created in their memories. Very disorienting.
So, though it was hard work sometimes to keep track of what year, and what memory path, we were in of our primary characters, Barry and Helena, I liked this book. It is smartly written, and it made me think, both because of the structure of the novel, but also because of the issues it raises about technology, values, consequences. It has suspense, terror, fear, love, and triumph amidst its fast-turning pages.
Recursion will soon be a Netflix movie and tv series but read the book first. If you can be intrigued by speculative fiction, pick this one up. It is a winner.
A "Top Pick of 2019" by AARP Magazine.
Amor Towles | Fiction 2016
I really want to like this book, but I keep falling asleep or getting distracted, or picking up my iPad to see if anyone emailed me in the last ten minutes. I am 100 pages in, which represents a significant commitment, and I think I must close the book and return it to the library.
I keep thinking that I "should" like it, and if only I were a more mature reader who could revel in the rather heavy-handed writing style, I would be a better person. There IS humor and some fascinating visual descriptions, but the theme .... a Count who is under house arrest in a hotel in Moscow in 1922 ... is boring. The inner flap tells me he will meet some interesting people, but he hasn’t yet.
An interesting review was written by Bill Gates. He said you do not have to be a Russophile to like this book. I think maybe you do.
I am surprised, because my dental hygienist Julie and I consistently agree about books we like and don’t like. I hope she remains gentle with my mouth when she discovers I abandoned this recommendation from her.
Camron Wright | Fiction 2012
This is a GREAT book. I am moved and hopeful.
Sang Ly, her husband Ki Lim, and their ill young son, Nisay, live in a shack at the edge of Stung Meanchey, the largest municipal waste dump in Cambodia. They make their living sorting through the trash the trucks bring every day, finding valuable scraps to sell to sometimes unscrupulous buyers. Yes, The Rent Collector reminds me of Katherine Boo’s Behind the Beautiful Forevers. The Rent Collector, however, is above all, a book of hope.
While this is a novel of life and death at the dump, the story line is about Sang Ly and her discovery of literacy and literature. It is as much a tale of the role of literature in our world as it is a tale of hardship, friendship, and love in the dump.
Here is a sample of the intelligent and visual writing by Camron Wright. “I always tell Ki that it’s a dangerous thing sending me to work at the dump, not because I’ll get run over by a truck, burn my legs and feet, or fall into a pool of toxic sludge—though all these are possibilities. It’s dangerous because my thoughts get away from themselves. Mixed with emotion, they pile up like the garbage that surrounds me. They stack layer upon layer, deeper and deeper, month after month—crushing, festering, smoldering. One day something is certain to combust.” (pg 25)
Mary—my good friend from high school—recommended this book to me. Once again, Mary, you are spot on. I will recommend The Rent Collector to my book club for 2021 because it is not only an excellent and enlightening read, but also because of what we can learn about literature.
Yes, blog readers, you might want to read this book. I recommend it without hesitation.
Allen Eskens | Fiction 2014
Joe Talbert is a college student with an English class assignment to interview a person and write their biography. With no living relatives other than his dysfunctional mother and a younger brother who has autism, Joe goes looking for someone interesting to interview. He finds Carl, a Vietnam-era war hero and an accused rapist and murderer who, after 30 years in prison, has been released to a care facility to die from cancer. Soon Joe is embroiled in Carl’s story and, believing Carl to be innocent of the rape and murder, he embarks upon a search to find the actual perpetrator and clear Carl's record and reputation before he dies.
This novel is fast-paced and an interesting twist on a suspense novel. Allen Eskers is a criminal defense attorney with an MFA in creative writing and writes excellent suspense. My friend Charlene recommended Eskers to me. She said he is one of her current favorite authors, and I can see why. I have already put another Esker’s book on my library list. Charlene recommended The Life We Bury to me, and I in turn recommend it to you.
Jane Bryant Quinn| Nonfiction 2015
Fortuitously, this book crossed my radar on the same day I took my very first payout from my retirement funds. Yikes! So, I decided to read it. And I am grateful that I did. I know Jane Bryant Quinn is the financial-advice-in-print wizard. Somehow, this book felt right at this time.
The book is well-designed. Quinn and her publisher provide excellent bold titles to every section, so you can pick and choose what to read. I skipped the section on when to take your Social Security, because that decision I have already made. I passed over the “implications if you are married” parts, because they are now irrelevant.
Yes, she does address preretirement planning, but she also writes a lot about post-retirement and how to plan your withdrawals and RMDs and re-balancing to ensure the greatest benefit. Two strategies I am quite intrigued by now are immediate-pay annuities and taking a reverse mortgage as a credit line very early in retirement, but not tapping it for a few years.
You will find something of value in here, if you peruse based on your own age, circumstances, and needs. I recommend a pause to reflect on your finances, with How to Make Your Money Last.
Ocean Vuong | Fiction 2019
On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous is a letter from a 20-something to his mother who cannot read. This book is emotionally difficult to consume ... it tells a painful story of being Vietnamese immigrants in this country, of family violence, and of mental illness unrecognized and untreated. Little Dog, the son, uncovers and shows us much about his mom and grandmother coming to America, with him in tow. It tells a personal story of a family, and not so much about the American culture or the society in which they struggled.
Vuong’s writing is like a big open flower. He uses beautiful words. You get the sense each and every word is chosen carefully. It is obvious this author is a poet. Here is a random example: “Being sorry ... is worth every self-deprecating feeling the mouth allows.” I loved reading his words. He engages us deeply and powerfully in a bruised story.
The one fault I find in On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous is the author’s digression into OxyContin. This large section (about 20% of the book) reads like a book within a book. It was as though Vuong went on an OxyContin rage. If he meant to connect it to the Vietnamese-in-America theme, I believe he failed. His victim to the opioid epidemic was not Vietnamese.
I took the liberty of reading some of Vuong’s poetry. His writing is stunning, and I look forward with anticipation to Vuong’s next novel.
Selected as one of the ten best books of 2019 by The Washington Post and by Book Riot.
Erin Morgenstern| Fiction 2019
I really enjoyed this book, the second book by the author of the highly successful The Night Circus.
There is a story line, a plot of sorts, though it is loose. Zachary Ezra Rawlins walks through a door and down into an entire world beneath the surface of the earth, having no idea that a new story has begun. This inner-earth world is mostly about stories. Everything and everyone is a story. There are stories that are people, and stories that are books, and stories that are folded pieces of paper. While we follow Zachary through his journey in this land of the Starless Sea, we also read many stories. There are threads that tie these stories together, and there are symbols that appear in all of them. Swords, keys, and bees are constant friends and mysteries in the stories, but also cats, rabbits, and owls. And ribbons and lanterns. And, above all, there are doors. Doors that open. Doors that are locked. Doors that simply appear. Doors that disappear. Doors that are drawn. Doors that are built. This world-beneath-our-world is Alice-in-Wonderland-esque.
To engage with The Starless Sea, you must be prepared to disengage with reality. I don’t know quite what to call the essence of this book. Fantasy? Magic? Imagination? And I wonder how she wrote the book and kept it all together ... I imagine she has created a big map of this land that Zachary is exploring, with rooms, and hallways, and caverns, a sea, stairs, characters, and doors.
I haven’t a clue who among you will enjoy this adventure, and who will find it too much of a suspension of reality. All I can say is I sincerely loved it and am delighted to have read it.
Novel of the week by The Week.
Anna Wiener | Nonfiction 2020
What a phenomenon! This book was published on January 14 and immediately the author was interviewed on NPR; Uncanny Valley was named book of the week by The Week; the SF Chronicle did an article on her; the book was reviewed by the NY Times, the New Yorker, and Atlantic Monthly. And today is only Jan 22!
Uncanny Valley is written by the niece of a colleague, so right from the start, I was a little nervous. I knew I would be completely honest in my blog posting, and I could only hope I wouldn’t find myself dissing this book or being brutal.
In the first chapter (or is it the second? I must admit to some level of irritation with books that have no chapter numbers or names), Ms. Wiener was incredibly naive, and I became scared. She never heard of eating snacks at work, of “ask forgiveness, not permission,” or of designing your own job. “Oh no,” I thought, “some millennial writing about corporate America who has spent all of five days in it.” Ahh, but that rapidly dissipated. She proceeds to communicate a smart, bright, funny, refreshing, and illuminating view of Silicon Valley and her first jobs in very small startups filled with young men in hoodies and company-logo t-shirts, traveling around the office on One Wheels.
One reviewer remarked positively about her short sentences. I, on the other hand, found myself actively watching for her long, complex, verbally staccato sentences, like this one, “In the other direction was Valencia Street, a living diorama of late-stage gentrification: third-wave-coffee shops selling paleo lattes, juice bars hawking turmeric shits, waifish Australians clutching branded paper bags from spartan boutiques.” (P 90). I adored these sentences!
In the second half, the section called “Scale” I thought her writing lost speed. It was like hiking partway up a mountain and losing momentum. The wondrous enjoyable hike becomes a bit of a slog. What she writes about when she joins a new high tech company in “Scale” is more serious (the company was trying to recover from a gender discrimination lawsuit), but it also feels like the author became jaded and less enamored by the crazy creativity and weirdness she is writing about. She writes more seriously about misogyny, racism, and meritocracy. It feels as though she is looking to solve a problem ... is Silicon Valley a problem? ... but with no real definition of the problem or vision or parameters for a solution.
“Scale” pushed my rating from four hearts to three, I am sorry to say. She will be speaking in Bend in a few days, and I will be interested to hear what she has to say about her energized colorful writing, and her duller, more frustrated(?) writing. I am sure she doesn’t think of it that way, but I will be curious nonetheless to hear what she has to say about the second half.
Virginia Kantra | Fiction 2020
I did some research and found the largest bookstore in the Miami airport, Books & Books. They didn’t have either of two upcoming book club reads, so I had to punt. I settled on this fun read, Meg & Jo. Yes, it is a modern-day version of two of the Little Women. It was fun to read, and Kantra provides more depth of characters than I was expecting. This is about sisters Meg and Jo, in their late 20’s, navigating careers, relationships, and, of course, family.
I was glad I saw the movie Little Women over the holidays, or I would have missed ALL of the call-backs to the original book by Louisa May Alcott. For example, here’s one I caught. In Kundra’s version, instead of Amy burning Jo’s manuscript, she deletes a letter Jo is working on. Modern twists and turns imbue this novel with a sense of realism and relevance.
The further I read, the more I appreciated how the author developed real characters for Meg and Jo. Depth, intimacy, personality, sadness, introspection, and a lot of humor. While it is not the East of Eden of 2020, I recommend Meg & Jo if you want a read that will entertain you, while you gaze outside at the snowy streets. And I will keep my eyes open for her next novel, Beth & Amy (the other two sisters).
Mary Pipher | Nonfiction 2019
Washington Post “100 Books for the Ages” Age 76 (and various friends)
It just didn’t interest me very much to read about the challenges of women growing older, even when the author threw in a few ideas for solutions. I don’t really want or need a self-help book at this juncture. I look forward to hearing perspectives from those of you who love this book!!
Ann Patchett | Fiction 2019
The Dutch House is about siblings Danny and Maeve, as told by the younger Danny, over five decades of their relationship. And it is about the quirky Pennsylvania mansion that defines their family relationships and, to some extent, their demise.
Maeve and Danny are close, loving, interwoven, and highly connected. It is truly a beautiful partnership to behold. With resilience, they maneuver their way through all the Dutch House throws at them: parents, step-mom and step-sisters, death, love, careers, expectations, disappointments, successes...
I found this book to be interesting, but not astounding. I give it three hearts ... it might tickle your fancy, but I make no promises.
John Steinbeck | Fiction 1952
East of Eden is the definition of a “classic.” Timeless. A story with depth, meaning, interest and intrigue. Excellently written. Worth every moment of its 800 pages. A book to re-read.
Melissa Albert | Fiction 2018
Alice Crewe Proserpine is seventeen and lives with her mother Ella as nomads, moving from place to place around the country for all her life. She never understood why there was constant upheaval, and why she lived in studio apartments, or converted barns, or someone’s couch, or other unsavory places until one day, suddenly, her mom would move them on.
And then Alice’s grandmother Althea dies, who has lived in an old beat up mansion called Hazel Wood. Alice learns that Althea has a cult of fans who latched on to the one book Althea wrote. But the book, Tales from the Hinterland, is impossible to find. It is as though it is destroying itself. Alice has been searching for it for most of her young life.
One day Ella disappears, and Alice takes off to find Hazel Wood, the one place her mother told her never to go. The adventure begins, as Alice enters Hinterland, the dark fairy tale land.
I found Hazel Wood on a list from Book Riot. The list was “ten books you might enjoy if you loved The Night Circus.” Well, I loved The Night Circus (Erin Morgenstern) and I picked one that sounded like an enjoyable mix of reality and fantasy. I enjoyed Hazel Wood, though I didn’t fall in love with it. I particularly liked the first half, where the real world and the fantasy world were interspersed, and we traveled from one to the other. Around page 200, just over halfway in, Alice bridges the gap to the fairy tale world and we are there for most of the rest of the book, until the resolution at the end. I didn’t care for the Hinterland story quite as much as the juxtaposition of fantasy and reality as told in the first half.
You might like this, if occasional magic is your thing. Albert is a good writer. Her pace is quick and sharp. She has a predilection for metaphors that sometimes don’t make sense to me, but that is a small complaint.
Melissa Albert | Fiction 2019
Time liked it and so did the Washington Post. I will have to take a pass on this one. I made it to page 80, but couldn’t bear another moment. To me, I read a compilation of words from a profession presented as ridiculously ego-maniacal .... psychiatry and analysis; psychiatrists, psychologists, and analysands. Characters were defined not by their qualities or values or even behaviors, but by what they said in analysis and how they described their dreams and their emotional outbursts. There is still no plot at 30% in. I am moving on.
Did you read this and enjoy it? I’d love to hear!
Min Jin Lee | Fiction 2017
Pachinko follows one Korean family through two World Wars, and their life in Japan as it evolves, away from their beloved homeland. It is not a story of a particularly tragic family, or a wealthy or powerful family. It is just a family. A poor family who lost their home in Korea during WW2 and made a life for themselves. You will follow this family through four generations and 80 years, and they will touch your heart, as well as teach you something about our world history. They endure catastrophe, tragedy, poverty, discrimination, and they manifest wisdom, joy, passion, laughter, and a powerful sense of self.
The word is difficult to find … but we will settle on “saga.” Pachinko is a 500-page tale of this small family and is an eminently readable saga. You will come to love the characters and cheer for their triumphs. I quite like this quote by award-winning author Darin Strauss, “Pachinko by Min Jin Lee is a great book, a passionate story, a novel of magisterial sweep.”
I do recommend this book. It is simply a good story. Yes, it is long; I read it over the first half of the Christmas break. A nice time to read such a tale, while it is cold outside.
Vanessa Diffenbaugh | Fiction 2011
I often read a book with a desire to move through it, to soak it up, and move on to the next interesting tale. But this book, The Language of Flowers, I wanted to savor. The writing, the story, and the exploration of flowers and their meanings all created a delicacy to enjoy slowly.
Victoria is a foster child, experiencing the worst of the foster system, traveling from a group home to a private home to a group home over and over. Then, at age eight she meets a possible new mother, Elizabeth. Theirs is a fast and deep bond. But the fates work against this relationship. While at its apex, Victoria learns from Elizabeth all about flowers – how to tend, harvest, and arrange them, and above all, the meaning of each flower. She is a fast learner and this learning is the most fulfillment she has experienced in her young life.
But circumstances interfere and Victoria leaves Elizabeth’s house to finish out her final youthful years in a group home until she is “emancipated” on her 18th birthday. With no skills and no family, Victoria becomes homeless, until Renata, a florist, discovers how brilliant Victoria is with flowers. Of course, Victoria has no reason to trust anyone. She doesn’t even know what trust is, much less love.
The book follows two journeys, one when Victoria is eight and living with Elizabeth, and the other when she is 18 and out on her own. And flowers and their meaning are at the center of both journeys.
This is a beautiful book, another debut novel. It is finely crafted and hard to put down, even though it wants to be relished. I highly recommend it.
David Lagerkrantz | Fiction 2019
Lagercrantz took over the Dragon Tattoo series with Lisbeth Salander and Mikael Blomkvist after Stieg Larsson died in 2004, so you may very well already be familiar with the primary characters in The Girl Who Lived Twice, Lisbeth and Mikael.
I believe Lagercrantz does quite a good job of carrying forward the Larsson legacy. That’s a hard task! The Girl Who Lived Twice is fast-paced, interesting, a mystery and thriller. I enjoyed it, especially the author’s ability to move the story forward at a good pace.
There are two plots that interweave. One is Lisbeth’s hate for and revenge for her sister, who Lisbeth THINKS she wants to kill. The other is Mikael’s search for the identity of, and the story behind, a homeless man who dies on the streets, but has a colorful Everest history! The Washington Post couldn’t resist this statement in the opening line of their 08/23/2019 review, “Salander irons an abusive husband's dress shirt with him in it.” Piques one's interest at least!
However, Lagercrantz has too many characters and not quite enough of Lisbeth and Mikael. He put a character list at the beginning of the book, but unfortunately, only included major characters. It is not the major characters that the reader has trouble keeping track of! So, I was confused at times. Hence, three hearts.
Sarah Winman | Fiction 2017
Ellis and Annie and Michael are in love with each another. It is a nearly perfect love. Tragic, yes, but also full of soul, depth, authenticity, tenderness, laughter, play, learning, exploration, and intensity.
If I were an English Professor, I would assign this book as a study of character and relationship development. Ellis and Michael are particularly strong souls, whom we discover so much about. Winman has done an extraordinary job of delving into the hearts and souls of these two men, and providing us with a window. Though the location and the timing, recent decades in Oxford, add much context and beauty to the tale, they are not central to the story line. In some ways, this could be three people anywhere.
The reviews on this are all-or-nothing. People love this book or hate it and are bored to tears. People think Winman did a superb job with character development, or a truly lousy job.
I wish this was a book club because I would like talk about the roles that were played by sunflowers, swimming, mothers, and floorboards. My friend Rene recommend this short novel. I will be eager to hear if you love it or hate it ...
Tracy Chevalier | Fiction 2019
The broderers did exist and did create embroidery for Winchester Cathedral. Louisa Pesel was renowned for her designs and she has a history of accomplishments before leading the project to embroider for the cathedral. Interestingly, embroidery was taught to men in WWI as a form of occupational therapy, to help them deal with their physical and mental trauma.
From the very first page I anticipated that this would be a novel that was finely written with much attention to detail. And I was not wrong. Chevalier (this is her 11th novel) is a master of character development and scenery description. She places you right in context, in her main character’s heart and mind. She is perhaps most famous for The Girl with a Pearl Earring.
The time is 1932. Violet Speedwell, 38, lost her brother and her fiancé in World War I. She is now one of the “surplus women” of her time. Too old to marry, not likely to have children, “spinsters” in the awfullest sense of that word.
But Violet strikes out on her own, leaving her hyper-critical mother behind. Moving to Winchester from Southampton, she takes a room in a boarding house, is a typist for an insurance company, and soon discovers the broderers, who are embroidering kneelers and cushions for Winchester Cathedral. She demonstrates her talent and becomes one of them. Of course, this action opens her to become self-sufficient (if quite poor), develop friendships, learn about the art of bell ringing, and perhaps even to fall in love.
This is a story of the times after WWI in England, of friendship, of the strict roles men and women held at this time, of maturing into one’s own person, and of the beauty of needlepoint. Though the topic might seem rather odd to some readers, its uniqueness is part of its charm, and I am giving it a full four hearts.
Recommend by numerous publications as one of the best books of 2019 including The Week, Time, Real Simple, Goodreads, and Overdrive.
Christine Coulson | Fiction 2019
It is my fault this book is receiving one heart. I seem to have misheard or misunderstood the interview I listened to on NPR. The author is a 25-year veteran of the staff of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. As I understood from the interview, this short book was filled with vignettes written by the pieces of art in the Met. It sounded as though the pieces of art were going to speak and tell a story. In the first chapter, this is what happens. A 1749 chair crafted for the Duchess of Parma is eager to attract a modern-day child to her lap, to drool and wiggle. She cheers this little guy on! But mom reaches out in the nick of time and grabs the little boy before he is able to put his rump or even his fingers on the chair. The chair was sad. Ingenious!
In the second chapter, the Director of the Museum is looking for a Muse to bring to a meeting. The curators of numerous exhibitions bring more than a hundred art pieces to the Director’s office. The Three Graces, naked, headless, and inextricably linked together, are sent back. “They shuffled out clumsily. The stuttering step of the conjoined, silent in their headless disappointment.” (pg 16) Zeus’s nine daughters disagree over whether the Director is “a real creep” or “hot” or “a total god.” (pg 17) Broken and naked women muttering among themselves arrive from the Romans and Greeks section, and the Director simply stares.
These chapters were absolutely delightful!
And then, they were done. I made it through 2/3rds of the book, but Coulson left her artwork behind and told stories of some of the 2200 members of the Met staff. Unfortunately, since she spent 25 years there, she must have assumed these stories were unique and bizarre and interesting, but you could tell the exact same stories (in a different physical setting) about the high technology and hospital organizations I have worked in. Not interesting.
Maybe she is inspired by her own Muse and creates other stories from works of art by the end of the book, but I perused to the end and didn’t see any more. She certainly seems to have the ability to do so.
I SO wish she had written what I though she had written, rather than what she actually wrote!
Heather Anderson | Nonfiction 2019
Heather Anderson was the fifth person overall and the first woman to hike the Triple Crown (the Appalachian Trail, the Continental Divide Trail, and the Pacific Crest Trail) in one year. She holds the women’s Fastest Known Time (FKT) on the Appalachian Trail, and the FKT on the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT), having bested the male holder of that title by four days. She is humble and not much interested in publicity. She tried marriage and a job for a while, but they just didn’t take.
This is the autobiographical story of her 60-day record breaking PCT hike. This is no Wild. Heather, whose trail name is Anish, is clearly a highly experienced hiker. Since 2003, she has hiked over 30,000 miles ... longer than the equator. Thirst tells her story on the PCT, a solo hiker who does things her way (she hikes in sundresses!) for an average of 42 miles a day. Aptly titled, she began in the desert at the south terminus on June 8 .... the hot dry desert. This is a serious hiker’s journey. As she is traveling alone, she is also quite introspective. I found her philosophizing to be insightful and timely, though her self-esteem could use some reinforcement. If you like wilderness adventures, you will eat this one up. (Or should I say, “drink” it up.)
Heard on OPB.
Joshilyn Jackson | Fiction 2019
The story opens at a neighborhood book club. Suddenly the woman renting the Air B&B down the street, Angelica Roux, knocks on the door and decides she is going to join. Pouring excessive amounts of alcohol for all who are in attendance (none of which does she contribute), powerful Roux takes over the book club, eventually getting the drunk women to play an adult version of “Never Have I Ever” and revealing secrets about themselves they would not reveal to anyone.
I thought at first, this was going to be rather silly. But it doesn’t take long to figure out that Roux is one very evil person, with her eyes set on blackmail. As the tale progresses, it actually becomes a thriller, with Roux manipulating our major character, Amy Whey, through her painful past that Amy has held secret, even from her beloved husband, Davis. Amy can neither give her what she wants – cash – nor reveal the sins of her past. So she must figure out how to out-maneuver Roux. And Amy has no experience at such detective work and maneuvering.
Roux's son Luca and Amy's daughter Maddy form another subplot, and scuba diving plays a major role in this drama from Pensacola, Florida. This book was recommended by Time magazine in an article called “Summer Thrills.” It is worth your time. About half-way through, you may be turning pages as fast as I did.
Linda Holmes | Fiction 2019
As Evvie is packing her car with her one blue suitcase on the day she has chosen to leave her husband, the phone rings. Tim, Evvie’s husband, has been killed in an auto accident. Evvie’s relationship with grief is, no surprise, rather confused and convoluted!
This is the story of her life after Tim’s death – not at all maudlin or sad. She decides to rent out the apartment in her house, and rents it to Dean, a former major league baseball pitcher who has the “yips.” He suddenly is no longer able to pitch and he gets fired from the Yankees.
Reviewers used words like “pleasant” and “smart” and “sweet.” These are rather accurate. This is a pleasant and uplifting novel. Holmes does a good job of exploring the friendships in the novel … Evvie with her best friend Andy; Andy with Dean – they have been friends since grade school; and, of course, the new relationship, Evvie and Dean.
Read this for fun, not for a big message!
Robin Sloan | Fiction, 2017
I found Sourdough to be foolish and a waste of time. Lois Clary is a programmer of robotic arms for a high technology company in San Francisco. Her favorite take-out restaurant shutters its doors because its owners have lost their green cards, and they will onto Lois, “their number one eater,” their sourdough starter. Lois proceeds to bake sourdough bread (perfect every time ... has Sloan ever baked at all?) and, of course, this action is life- and career-changing. I don’t think Sourdough has anywhere near the depth, interest, and charm of Sloan’s earlier novel, Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore.
Margaret Atwood | Fiction
It is 15 years after the events recorded in The Handmaid’s Tale and not all is well in Gilead! This is the story of the demise of Gilead, as told through the eyes of three women who lived it.
Two were young women. One grew up in Gilead as the daughter of an important Commander; the other grew up in Canada, a small distance from the borders of Gilead, protesting and marching against the horrors of Gilead that we learned about in The Handmaid’s Tale. The third woman is older – Aunt Lydia – probably the most powerful woman within the Gilead culture. The stories of these three characters come together in ways that are touching and difficult.
Atwood is a superb writer! Her sharp commentary and clear visuals will keep you engaged in this page-turner. How does Gilead come to its demise? The Testaments is suspenseful and, being dystopian, also psychologically scary at times. Atwood attempts to explain the inner workings of women (and a sub-culture) we may find difficult to understand, not being members of the oppressive Gilead society.
This is a fine sequel to The Handmaids Tale and I surely recommend it.
Bonnie Jo Campbell | Fiction, 2011
Washington Post “100 Books for the Ages” Age 17
It has been a long time since I was 17, and I don’t know a 17-year old, but I am struggling to understand why Once Upon A River was chosen by the Washington Post as the most important book for a 17-year old to read. Our hero, Margo, is 15 when the story begins. She is raped twice in the first 100 pages and is obsessed with guns, killing any male deer that happen by her home and cabin on the Stark River in Michigan. Reviewers laud her journey, her bravery, her coming-of-age when she leaves her family home and ventures out onto the river in her rowboat. However, she never travels more than 30 miles upstream on the river, only to places she has been before. She finds a roof for her head in two cabins that belong to her cousins, and she is overly reliant on men, living first with Brian and then Michael. And then taking succor from XXX (yes, that is all we learn of his name) and Smoke, during her not-very-adventurous trip downstream. And there are no women characters except for a few cameos, the mom who abandons her, and the angry and worried nieces of Smoke. This is no story I want a teenager to read and take wisdom from.
As an adult, it is an okay-interesting tale, but with so many books calling out to you from your dusty shelves, like mine, I would forgo this one.
I loved this book! I was searching for books on my finding my artistic style, when I ran across this gem in the St. Louis Art Museum. The first insight I learned from Ms. Congdon is that “style” is only one piece of the picture. Style is the look and feel of your work. Skill is the second component; and subject matter is the third. Media -- the substance and tools you use to give expression to your voice -- and consistency are the final two components of voice.
Your story, history, experiences, passions, culture, values, truths, dreams, fears, race, gender, identity ... all of these and more contribute to your “Voice.” What struck me in reading her perspective on Voice is that it isn’t just relevant to artists. It seems finding your Voice as an entrepreneur, as a community member, as a career person is vital.
As I read this book I recalled the first piece of art I ever bought. It was a pen and ink drawing sold at the Summer Festival in Ann Arbor, circa 1973. This memory contributes useful images to my own Voice.
This may not resonate with you, but if it does, pick up this little gem. It has lots of artistic illustrations in it, no surprise!
I expect great courtroom scenes from Grisham, but what surprised me is how powerful his war descriptions are in this book. Our major character and murderer (we learn this in Chapter 1), Pete Banning, kills the local pastor in his office in broad daylight and never for a moment denies that he did so, AND never explains his motives. In section one, "The Murder," we follow Pete’s imprisonment and trial.
Section two, "The Boneyard," provides us with a devastating back story of Pete in the Philippines during WWll, fighting as a soldier, and then as a POW in extremely brutal circumstances, and then as a guerilla.
In "The Betrayal," the third section, the story is satisfactorily completed.
This is a rich Grisham and yes, I recommend it.
Lisa Wingate | Fiction
(I have been traveling, can you tell? Three reviews at once!)
The Tennessee Children’s Home Society operated a black market adoption agency in the first half of the 20th century, often kidnapping indigent children, glorifying and misrepresenting their pasts, and selling them for a huge profit to wealthy and often famous adoptive parents. This much is known to be true.
Before We Were Yours tells the fictional, though representative, story of five children who lived on the riverboat Arcadia and were kidnapped from their home in 1939 by the Tennessee Children's Home Society. Rill Foss, 12, is the eldest child. And, it tells the story of modern day lawyer Avery Stafford, the daughter of a US Senator, who discovers there may be some hidden secrets in her well-to-do and politically successful family.
This is an extremely well-told story that will hold your attention in the alternating chapters about Rill and Avery. It is sad yet ultimately hopeful. I recommend Before We Were Yours enthusiastically.
Hallie Ephron | Fiction
It calls itself a “suspense” novel, but it is light reading. At first, I was concerned it was rather juvenile ... fits perfectly in the “written for grade 6” NYT list. It IS rather juvenile, easy to read and enjoy. About half-way in, we get to the murder and the plot thickens considerably. At this point, it becomes more intriguing and more “who done it?”
The plot is original. The main character, Emily, has just opened a professional organizing business, Freeze-Frame Clutter Kickers. One weekend, she and her business partner Becca acquire two new clients, Mrs. Murphy, who just discovered her recently deceased husband had a storage unit she knew nothing about, and Quinn Newell, a woman suddenly desperate to remove all of her belongings from her husband’s house. It turns out neither of these clients are quite what they seem; not at all. And a murder ensues.
I want to recommend Careful as beach reading, but it is October. It will do fine for a rainy autumn weekend, along with a cup of tea, when you don’t want to tax your brain.
Recommended by Jamie Lee Curtis in Time magazine
George Saunders | Fiction
I was intimated by Lincoln in the Bardo from the first I heard of it. Over 100 characters. But then my friend and college roommate Janet (Janet is an Abe Lincoln aficionado. She even belongs to a Lincoln book club. At which she met the author George Saunders) shared the secret with me ... listen to the audiobook. Audiobooks typically have one, sometimes two readers, but Lincoln in the Bardo made publishing history. There are 166 voices in the audiobook. All professionals.
I feel like I am writing a review of a play. Listening to all those voices drew a surprisingly vibrant picture of the Bardo; it doesn’t feel like a book to me.
The Bardo is the place souls go when they disconnect from their bodies after death, but before they are reincarnated again. The tale begins with the (historically accurate) death of Lincoln’s son Willie, at the age of 13, from typhoid fever. The thread that runs through the book is Willie’s experience in the Bardo ... his first full day.
I wondered if a greater knowledge of history was important, but two of the major characters, Hans Vollman (voice by Nick Offerman) and Roger Bevins III (voice by David Sedaris) appear to be fictional characters. We meet many other characters (another 160 or so!) in the Bardo. It is a rather disheartening place, where souls bring all the good and bad of their lives in the “previous place” to be examined and often judged harshly. But we keep returning to Willie and his father Abe, tying the story together.
There are wonderful interludes in which the narrator reads from a vast array of historical books and papers on whatever subject us at hand ... from the color of Abe’s eyes to Willie’s funeral. No two historical records seem to agree on much of anything!
I could have rated this book 2, 3, or 4 hearts, at various times in the listening. Truthfully, I don’t quite understand it. I wonder why Saunders found it so important to have so much sex and swearing, but he did. I do not know if there is a message, or even a plot. Yet, it is quite a vivid experience to read/listen to it. A week later, I keep thinking about it.
Go ahead, give Lincoln in the Bardo a try, and, do, for heaven’s sake, comment here!
Recommended by Sara in book club and reconfirmed by Janet.
Debut novels tickle me. Sometimes I want to shake the authors and tell them what few tidbits I might have on character development or grammar usage. And sometimes I simply delight in a new perspective, a new story, a new voice. Ayesha at Last is a delightful new voice.
The setting is a Toronto, which immediately captured my heart. The major characters, Ayesha, Khalid, and Hafsa are young 20-something Muslims trying to make their way in the modern world. Given their religion and traditional families, everything is called into question, from love, to arranged marriages, to women at work, to relationships with mothers.
Immature Hafsa is plotting to receive 100 marriage proposals ... a personal goal. But other people in her life can get hurt by such a strategy. Her cousin Ayesha, older and more mature, working as a teacher, is much more sensible and knows she doesn’t want someone else choosing a husband or a career for her. She gets herself drawn into a false identity, which stretches the credibility of Jalaluddin’s story a bit, but helps us to see Ayesha’s complexity and loyalty to family. Finally, Khalid, smart, conservative, educated, well-employed, judgmental, and awkward is also authentic, honest, and handsome — a worthy love interest!
Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed Ayesha at Last and it comes with my full recommendation. The back cover says it is “A modern-day Muslim Pride and Prejudice. Huh.
Wow, this is a great book! I find myself gravitating towards the word “mature.” It is a story of wisdom, honesty, friendship, love, loyalty, grief.
An unnamed narrator guides us in every chapter. None of the major characters have a name except for the 180-pound Great Dane, Apollo. The unnamed voice is grieving her friend, both of whom were/are writers and teachers of writing. This book is about literature and life at its core, not about a dog. The Friend is beautifully written from the view of the narrator, talking to her friend after his death. The narrator relays to us conversations she and her friend had, and then, more and more, as the chapters progress, she is talking to her friend in the present. The Friend is imbued with well-researched and appropriate quotes and stories from real authors, such as these: “Dogs are the best mourners in the world, as everyone knows.” (Joy Williams) and Rilke, who writes of love as “…two solitudes that protect and border and greet each other.”
Yes, Apollo plays a very important role in the tale, as he is abandoned by “Wife Three” to the narrator. Apollo and the narrator combine to form a whole; a whole experience of grief, as Apollo is mourning as much as the narrator. They become therapy dog and therapy human to each other. However, The Friend is not sentimental, nor mushy, nor predictable.
Thank you, Teresa, for this excellent recommendation. Don’t miss this one, blog readers!
Barbara Kingsolver | Fiction, 2018
I shelved this book in my suitcase, flying home from Baltimore. I became bored and frustrated. And then I decided to wait to write my blog posting until after book club. Hearing my friends’ view of Unsheltered, I picked it up again and finished the last 150 pages. It still is not my favorite book, for certain, and Kingsolver’s writing leaves me rather chilly.
Unsheltered follows two families living in the same house at two separate time periods in Vineland, New Jersey. The novel alternates between the 21st- and 19th-century stories, using the last words of one chapter as the title of the next one. In both situations, the house is falling apart. Willa and Iano are our modern-day couple, with extended family members living with them, holding a range of political and social allegiances. Thatcher and Rose are the 19th century couple, also with several extended family members living with them. This novel was written recently enough that we meet “The Bullhorn” who quips that “he could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and people would still vote for him.”
My book club members discussed the many metaphors, as well as the intentional analogies between the two families attempting to live in a falling-down house, 140 years apart. There are many, as Kingsolver gives us lectures on Darwinism, the beginning thoughts of evolution, climate change, recycling, the workings and failings of the financial systems, the roles of the educational system and religion, politics, racism, parenting, love, grief, inequality, and women wearing trousers (!) to name a few!
I can’t put my hand on what I don’t care for in Kingsolver’s novel. The parallel stories are interesting (most reviewers and Casting Crew Book Club members preferred Thatcher and Rose’s time period, the 19th century. ) Her characters are a bit cliché, especially given their strong political allegiances, but I don’t find them too shallow for the work she was writing ... the quantity and diversity of views were interesting in and of themselves. I didn’t need to know the intellectual or emotional source of their viewpoints. One reviewer describes Kingsolver as a “political novelist” who “has only the shallowest understanding of political reality.” I understand that review, but I wasn’t reading her for her political commentary. Sometimes, the “cliché-ness” was fun!
I guess I just found Unsheltered tedious. I became bored. Maybe it was just the travails of airport and airplane air. Finishing Unsheltered allowed me to upgrade my rating from one heart to two hearts reaching up tentatively towards three. It is worth a perusal to see if you like it; I think many of my readers would. My book club did.
Lee Child | Fiction
Another mindless but enjoyable Jack Reacher novel; a quick and engaging read. Reacher plans to travel across the country, from Maine to California, but becomes distracted as he passes the town where his father was born. He stops, detours and, to no reader's surprise, finds a whole lot of trouble as he meets interesting people in New England towns.
At the same time, a young Canadian couple begins to make their way towards New York City when their car breaks down at a lonely and remote small hotel.
Of course, these stories intertwine, and bizarre mysteries reveal themselves. Reacher tries to untangle his family tree at the same time the Boston Mafia begins searching for him.
I’d like to remember to pass on the next Lee Child novel. His writing is engrossing; his stories are creative; his ideas are novel; but once again the violence of the climactic moments leaves me a bit disturbed.
Louise Penny | Fiction
Three Pines is a remote village south of Montreal. It is a tiny and peaceful hamlet, where everyone knows everyone. Early one Sunday morning during hunting season, an important elderly community member, Jane Neal, is found dead in the woods, with a lethal wound from an arrow.
We meet Chief Inspector Armand Gamache and his team of investigators who eventually solve the mystery of Jane’s death, and of her secret artwork. Thus begins Louise Penny’s thirteen Armand Gamache mystery novels.
I found this book fun and delightful. Suggested by my friend Janet, it kept me company all the way from Baltimore to home, when I just couldn’t bear to open Unsheltered by Barbara Kingsolver again (more on that in a future blog post). I enjoyed Louise Penny’s ability to draw characters quickly and succinctly, and to explore both their inner and outer relationships. Her storytelling, however, didn’t quite compel me. It was a little slow, a little gentle.
That being said, I have decided to read book #2 in the series before I commit to read, or not read, all 13. More to follow after I read A Fatal Grace.
Chris Raschka, 1997
Washington Post “100 Books for the Ages” Age 4 *
I liked it! I read it three times. Of course, it is only 95 words. It truly is best read aloud, even if you are just reading for yourself. I don’t really understand what a four-year-old would like, so here are some words from some reviews.
“The brief text sings and swings and skips along, practically of its own volition, while the pictures add humor and just the right amount of jazziness ... " The Horn Book
“... Regardless of whether they’ve heard of jazz or Charlie Parker, young readers will bop to the pulsating beat of this sassy picture book. [A] read-aloud that’s hard to resist. And that’s no jive.” Publishers Weekly
Black is the Body is a captivating book written by a Black woman who chooses to live in Vermont.
What intrigues me about Bernard’s writing is what is not there. She is not the least bit preachy. I never feel like she is trying to make me understand the Blackness of her reality. Instead, she tells us stories, about her twin daughters, about her family and her White husband, about her profession, about Vermont, and because she is who she is, there are, of course, racial and cultural implications in the stories she tells. I feel she does an excellent job of enlightening us about her life and highlighting how she experiences life situations through the intimate and unavoidable lens of her race.
Yes, definitely four hearts.
Thank you, Claire, for this thoughtful recommendation. I began reading it on your birthday, in honor of you.