Hyper radiance?

The Uses of Enchantment - Heidi Julavits
New York: Doubleday, 2006

So I actually went and looked up Bruno Bettelheim when I found out that Julavits borrowed the title from him. Fairy tales allow children a safe way to come to terms with fears and darkness. Do we ever really stop being children? In Julavits' novel, which I'm not totally certain I can discuss coherently, most of the characters are engaged in similar acts of attempting to empower themselves to be the masters of their story.

There are three narratives, set in 1985, 1986, and 1999. In the "present," Mary Veal is back in New England for her estranged mother's funeral. Her family has yet to forgive her for what happened over a decade ago, but she has held out hope that maybe her mother understood and forgave. This is juxtaposed with "What Might Have Happened" in 1985, when Mary disappeared, a willing participant in her abduction, and the notes taken by her therapist during a series of sessions early the next year, when he notices inconsistencies in her story, decides it is all a lie, and makes her the case study for his theory of hyper radiance. So it's difficult enough to tell what really happened, if a phrase like "what really happened" even makes sense. But then you realize that pretty much everyone is lying, or at least willfully ignoring what doesn't fit. And by the end you are kind of dizzy. And yet.... Julavits is smart and interesting and so are her characters. I was engaged start to finish. Frustrated as often as not, but engaged.

Pause. This isn't precisely what I want to say about this novel. I started writing in one place, and ended up somewhere entirely different. (Which is maybe not unlike what happens to some of these characters are they lose and regain control of their own narratives?) But rather than edit and re-think and try to get it right, I'll just end with the recommendation to read it for yourself.

Regency Vacation

Austenland - Shannon Hale
New York: Bloomsbury, 2007

I hadn't been to the library in ages. (Like since February probably.) So I was really excited a couple weeks ago to trek up to my local branch and see what from my "to read" list was in stock. And I was in the mood to find a book that I could read that afternoon. Hence, Austenland. (And how awesome was it when two hours later my friend e-mails and says, "My mom says hi. She wants to know what you're reading," and I had to respond, "um, Jane Austen fan lit.")

This was cute though, and a lovely weekend afternoon read. Jane (not the name I would have chosen, but whatevs) is about my age, and totally identifiable to a reader like me. She's single, relatively successful, and might be slightly obsessed with Mr. Darcy. Her great-aunt decides that Austen is keeping Jane from finding happiness in the real world, and bequeaths a vacation to an English resort where guests live in an Austen novel. With actors, and love affairs, and all sorts of ridiculousness. Jane goes, with the plan of getting Mr. Darcy out of her system forever, and being able to move on. And really? Do I have to say any more of the plot?

Another nice touch was that each chapter begins with the tale of one of Jane's loves, which run the gamut from the boy who kissed her in pre-school to her former fiance.

While nothing inspired by P&P can ever possibly be Bridget Jones, much less the real thing, this was a charming effort.

Like reading a dream

The Vine of Desire - Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
New York: Anchor Books, 2002

When I was in college, I went through a phase where it almost felt like I could get enough literature by South Asian female writers. Really this was pretty much just Divakaruni and Arundhati Roy, but in my head it was much more. Anyway, I heard both authors give readings on campus, which was lovely. And what I really liked about Divakaurni was that she was based in the East Bay, so everything had an extra tinge of familiarity. And there was a lyrical quality to both writers, where things seemed lush and rich beyond themselves. (This is also a trait I have ascribed to Canadian writers, thanks to Michael Ondaatje and Joy Kogawa.)

I digress. Vine of Desire is a follow-up to Sister of My Heart, which I read in college and do not remember AT ALL. Fortunately, the novel stands alone just fine. The main characters are friends, sisters essentially. At the opening, one has lost the baby she was carrying and is adrift. The other has lost her husband, so that she could keep her baby, and is likely drifting. Anju, the former, insists on bring Sudha and the baby out to California. This despite knowing that her husband has nurtured a desire for Sudha. So now you have three injured souls (and an adorable baby) in a single apartment. And no one is capable of communicating in any truthful fashion. And obviously things go badly.

The plot isn't much of a surprise. But the writing is simply lovely. Chapters come in different forms, different styles, and we see the perspectives of not only Anju and Sudha, but also Anju's husband Sunil, Sudha's suitor (if that's the right word) Lalit, and even the baby Dayita. Divakaruni is extremely compassionate toward her characters, and you ache for each of them, over the pain they feel and the pain they cause.

Welcome back Erin

This has been a strange spring. Not in a particularly interesting sort of way. But strange. And thanks to things like Twitter, I spend too much time on the internet as it is. Which makes blogging seem a lot less enticing.

Anyway, there have been books in the last 6 weeks. A couple. All by female authors. So posts to come right now...