The Summer Before the Dark - Doris Lessing (Knopf, 1973)
Huh. As a non-yet-married third wave feminist without children, I found this book totally foreign. Maybe forty years is a surprisingly long time, or maybe I just haven't made it to the place where I can fully understand how a middle aged woman can have such trouble figuring out her "self" as an identity separate from how she is seen by others.
Kate's husband and children all go off for a long summer. She gets a job as a translator for some NGO that throws conferences and channels all the energies she spent running a household into that. And then with her free months she falls into an affair with a younger man and travels. Except one after another they are afflicted with some sort of illness that is explicitly considered existential as well as physical.
Throughout the course of the novel, Kate has a recurring dream, in which she is trying to rescue a seal. It's crucial that she let the dream run its course, and it has that metaphorical quality dreams do. But whole swaths of the novel felt the same way to me -- I'd be reaching out, trying to grasp the meaning behind what was going on in the moment, but it kept slipping through my fingers. And I was hugely annoyed to not be able to tell whether or not this was Lessing's intention, or if I was just too far away from Kate's existence to be able to understand it.
Monday, March 24, 2014
Creating citizens
History Lessons: How Textbooks from Around the World Portray U.S. History - Dana Lindaman and Kyle Ward (The New Press, 2004)
After a few drinks (and sometimes even before), I have been known to wax philosophical about the role of education in shaping our attitudes and beliefs about our country, our history, and the world. I wrote research papers on it in grad school, it was a big part of why I spent my 20s working in civic education, and I continue to find it utterly fascinating.
So no surprise that a book like this would make its way to me. Honestly, I would have liked the monograph version of this book. The one that was rich with analysis about the different ways international textbooks tell our nation's story, and what that says about their own national identity. And how the differences illustrate what our textbooks say about our own. Instead, Lindaman and Ward present lightly annotated excerpts -- oodles of them -- from an array of nations. They let the books tell the story, which is enlightening, but raised way too many questions for me. How well am I remembering the details of American textbooks? They books are mostly from the mid- to late-1990s -- how are American textbooks of that era different from the ones I read a decade earlier? How are they different today? And how much am I particularly interested in Canadian textbooks and Caribbean ones? How much is their national identity shaped by their different relationship with the United Kingdom? And with the United States itself?
(Oh, and also how interesting was the editors' note, which discussed the difficulties in translating adjectives that literally mean UnitedStates-ian and what relationship do other countries have with the adjective American?)
All of which is to say that this book was really cool. I liked it. But now I want much much much more.
After a few drinks (and sometimes even before), I have been known to wax philosophical about the role of education in shaping our attitudes and beliefs about our country, our history, and the world. I wrote research papers on it in grad school, it was a big part of why I spent my 20s working in civic education, and I continue to find it utterly fascinating.
So no surprise that a book like this would make its way to me. Honestly, I would have liked the monograph version of this book. The one that was rich with analysis about the different ways international textbooks tell our nation's story, and what that says about their own national identity. And how the differences illustrate what our textbooks say about our own. Instead, Lindaman and Ward present lightly annotated excerpts -- oodles of them -- from an array of nations. They let the books tell the story, which is enlightening, but raised way too many questions for me. How well am I remembering the details of American textbooks? They books are mostly from the mid- to late-1990s -- how are American textbooks of that era different from the ones I read a decade earlier? How are they different today? And how much am I particularly interested in Canadian textbooks and Caribbean ones? How much is their national identity shaped by their different relationship with the United Kingdom? And with the United States itself?
(Oh, and also how interesting was the editors' note, which discussed the difficulties in translating adjectives that literally mean UnitedStates-ian and what relationship do other countries have with the adjective American?)
All of which is to say that this book was really cool. I liked it. But now I want much much much more.
Friday, March 14, 2014
Shopgirl
The Makeup Girl - Andrea Semple (Kensington Books, 2005)
The Bridal Season - Connie Brockway (Island Books, 2001)
A Kiss at Midnight - Eloisa James (Avon, 2010)
All of the heroines in this trio of novels are working girls. In Semple's, Faith works at a makeup counter, and also happens to make up most of the facts of her life, including a sexy and successful boyfriend named Adam. But when she meets a guy by the name, she starts to wonder if she can make her lies a reality. Fairly standard British chick list. Breezy, sweet, fun, although the love story feels only partially formed. (Maybe due to the short short chapters? 100 in just over 300 pages.)
Brockway's heroine, Letty, is a song girl on the run, who finds herself masquerading as a celebrated wedding planner to the Victorian elite. Unfortunately the area is under the jurisdiction of a stickler for law and justice. Except she awakens in him desires he thought had long been extinguished, and he gives her hopes of a life more glorious than the one she had eked out in London.
And lastly, there's Kate, or shall we call her Cinderella? She's been hard at work trying to keep her father's estate afloat while her stepmother squanders their wealth on jewels and dresses. Don't even ask why and how Kate ends up (also pretending to be someone else - yay for helpful plot devices) at the English castle of a Prussian prince. He's betrothed to a princess whose money will keep his eclectic collection of relatives afloat and she's not much interested in the arrogant sort. And yet they are drawn like magnets. It can only be flirtation -- both recognize their responsibilities -- until a magical ball leaves them wishing for more. (Oh, plus archeology!)
All three were charming, but I think I may finally need to take a break from the sweets.
The Bridal Season - Connie Brockway (Island Books, 2001)
A Kiss at Midnight - Eloisa James (Avon, 2010)
All of the heroines in this trio of novels are working girls. In Semple's, Faith works at a makeup counter, and also happens to make up most of the facts of her life, including a sexy and successful boyfriend named Adam. But when she meets a guy by the name, she starts to wonder if she can make her lies a reality. Fairly standard British chick list. Breezy, sweet, fun, although the love story feels only partially formed. (Maybe due to the short short chapters? 100 in just over 300 pages.)
Brockway's heroine, Letty, is a song girl on the run, who finds herself masquerading as a celebrated wedding planner to the Victorian elite. Unfortunately the area is under the jurisdiction of a stickler for law and justice. Except she awakens in him desires he thought had long been extinguished, and he gives her hopes of a life more glorious than the one she had eked out in London.
And lastly, there's Kate, or shall we call her Cinderella? She's been hard at work trying to keep her father's estate afloat while her stepmother squanders their wealth on jewels and dresses. Don't even ask why and how Kate ends up (also pretending to be someone else - yay for helpful plot devices) at the English castle of a Prussian prince. He's betrothed to a princess whose money will keep his eclectic collection of relatives afloat and she's not much interested in the arrogant sort. And yet they are drawn like magnets. It can only be flirtation -- both recognize their responsibilities -- until a magical ball leaves them wishing for more. (Oh, plus archeology!)
All three were charming, but I think I may finally need to take a break from the sweets.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
One more circle
Life After Life - Kate Atkinson (Little, Brown and Company, 2013)
This is one of those books that you want to tell people about, but you can't quite find a concise way to do so. If you are like me, your pitch goes a little like this:
But the reincarnation thing is a really awesome point, since a character even explicitly mentions the Buddhist notion that we keep living over and over again until we get it right. And while I've always understood that as living other lives throughout one chronological experience of time, there's no reason it couldn't be living the "same" life again and again.
But if that's the case, what is "getting it right" and is that something that's even possible? Atkinson dances up to this question, but I'd say she engages with it more implicitly than explicitly. She raises far more questions that she answers.
It's funny, reading how Ursula dies again and again mitigates the pain and sorrow of those deaths, but only to a point. You still grieve when awful things happen to her (and they do) and when a life that seems to be going well comes to an end before its time. And you grieve even more for the loved ones who are lost along the way, particularly when they appear to be collateral damage in Ursula's half-conscious attempts to alter her fate. Oh, while some sections (and lives) are short, other scenes are much longer and a huge chunk of the book is comprised of Ursula's varying experiences during World War II. And it should come as no surprise that there are an awful lot of (terrible) ways to die in that war.
So the book is really something. For the beautiful writing and the way that the premise never feels gimmicky first and foremost, but also for the metaphysical questions that it raises. I'll be thinking a lot about what the implications would be if we did indeed live our lives time after time.
This is one of those books that you want to tell people about, but you can't quite find a concise way to do so. If you are like me, your pitch goes a little like this:
So there's this girl, and she keeps living her life over and over again. Like, she's born, but she dies in childbirth, and then she's born again... [interjection: reincarnated?] no, the exact same life, but this time the doctor arrives in time to save her, but then she drowns, and then she's born again but hesitates in the water and so is saved but then... and then there's the flu epidemic after World War I and...This is the point where my FH admitted, "I lost you awhile ago and haven't really been paying attention." My mom tried, but was also stuck on the reincarnation point. Or then parallel universes, except they are not parallel since Ursula seems to maintain ghostly remembrances and premonitions relating to past lives, often in ways that help her save herself or a loved one. (And since it's nearly impossible to discuss this novel without reference to Groundhog Day, RIP Harold Ramis.)
But the reincarnation thing is a really awesome point, since a character even explicitly mentions the Buddhist notion that we keep living over and over again until we get it right. And while I've always understood that as living other lives throughout one chronological experience of time, there's no reason it couldn't be living the "same" life again and again.
But if that's the case, what is "getting it right" and is that something that's even possible? Atkinson dances up to this question, but I'd say she engages with it more implicitly than explicitly. She raises far more questions that she answers.
It's funny, reading how Ursula dies again and again mitigates the pain and sorrow of those deaths, but only to a point. You still grieve when awful things happen to her (and they do) and when a life that seems to be going well comes to an end before its time. And you grieve even more for the loved ones who are lost along the way, particularly when they appear to be collateral damage in Ursula's half-conscious attempts to alter her fate. Oh, while some sections (and lives) are short, other scenes are much longer and a huge chunk of the book is comprised of Ursula's varying experiences during World War II. And it should come as no surprise that there are an awful lot of (terrible) ways to die in that war.
So the book is really something. For the beautiful writing and the way that the premise never feels gimmicky first and foremost, but also for the metaphysical questions that it raises. I'll be thinking a lot about what the implications would be if we did indeed live our lives time after time.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Oh Valentine
The Trouble with Valentine's Day - Rachel Gibson (Avon Books, 2005)
How to Marry a Marquis - Julia Quinn (Avon Books, 1999)
It's February, so how could I not pick up the first book? And it's another one of those books where the protagonist is a former hockey player. Teemu Selanne even makes a brief appearance, on the television, where Katie astutely points out how hot he is. (This is during his Avalanche days though, so ugh.) But there really isn't much hockey. Katie has retreated to her grandfather's home, to help the widower run his store and get away from stresses back home in Las Vegas. Rob has retreated to the town where his mother now lives, following a shocking incident that ended his hockey career. And I feel like that's all I need to say.
Oh, except the Valentine's connection: the book starts on Valentine's Day, when Katie hits on a hot stranger in a bar on the way to town, is rebuffed, and later humiliated when the hot guy turns out to be her neighbor. Or, and he didn't turn her down for the reasons she expected.
Going back in time was a bit more fun. Elizabeth needs to marry money in order to care for her orphaned siblings, and when she comes across the embarrassingly titled "How to Marry a Marquis," she can't help but look through it. Funny thing is, there actually is a marquis around, except he's masquerading as an estate manager for spy-ish reasons. (As one does.) When they meet and sparks fly, she's sad that she's falling for a guy who can't solve her money woes, and he's not sure whether he ought to reveal his true identity. And when she finds out, the ensuing bedlam seems like something out of a Moss Hart/George Kaufman play. Delightful. Hard to believe, but delightful.
(Don't expect my romance reading pace to fall off anytime soon.)
How to Marry a Marquis - Julia Quinn (Avon Books, 1999)
It's February, so how could I not pick up the first book? And it's another one of those books where the protagonist is a former hockey player. Teemu Selanne even makes a brief appearance, on the television, where Katie astutely points out how hot he is. (This is during his Avalanche days though, so ugh.) But there really isn't much hockey. Katie has retreated to her grandfather's home, to help the widower run his store and get away from stresses back home in Las Vegas. Rob has retreated to the town where his mother now lives, following a shocking incident that ended his hockey career. And I feel like that's all I need to say.
Oh, except the Valentine's connection: the book starts on Valentine's Day, when Katie hits on a hot stranger in a bar on the way to town, is rebuffed, and later humiliated when the hot guy turns out to be her neighbor. Or, and he didn't turn her down for the reasons she expected.
Going back in time was a bit more fun. Elizabeth needs to marry money in order to care for her orphaned siblings, and when she comes across the embarrassingly titled "How to Marry a Marquis," she can't help but look through it. Funny thing is, there actually is a marquis around, except he's masquerading as an estate manager for spy-ish reasons. (As one does.) When they meet and sparks fly, she's sad that she's falling for a guy who can't solve her money woes, and he's not sure whether he ought to reveal his true identity. And when she finds out, the ensuing bedlam seems like something out of a Moss Hart/George Kaufman play. Delightful. Hard to believe, but delightful.
(Don't expect my romance reading pace to fall off anytime soon.)
Friday, February 14, 2014
The Butterfly Net
Speak, Memory: An Autobiography Revisited - Vladimir Nabokov (Wideview/Perigree, 1966)
I have really mixed feelings about Nabokov. I am pretty sure I like his fiction, although I find it challenging. I definitely don't like his opinion that it makes no sense to try to translate Eugene Onegin in verge (why is Pushkin so popular on this blog lately?). And I am not a fan of his decisions on how to transliterate. Ys in confusing places, and the rendering of the Cyrillic "Х" (normally "kh" as in "Khrushchev") as "H," the decision to just use the masculine form of the last name for women (Anna Karenin, instead of Karenina).
Oh wait, I'm digressing. In his autobiography, he also just doesn't seem like the most pleasant guy to be around. Arrogant, homophobic and with a clearly complicated relationship with his gay brother (11 months his junior), and certainly convinced he was the smartest guy in the room (which, unfortunately, he usually was). Plus early in this autobiography (composed of a series of essays and revised over time) he discloses that he read and wrote in English before he did in Russian. So English was virtually a native tongue to him, and my awe of his prowess has to be played down just the teeniest bit.
All that said, this is a masterful work. I've seen it said (and of course I can't provide citations, bad librarian) that this is the best autobiography of the twentieth century. I'm willing to believe it. What he does with language... I'm not sure anyone can beat him. In whatever tongue. But while I admire him all the more for having read this memoir, I'm not sure I like him.
(Not mentioned above but also worth noting: a glorious look at late imperial aristocracy/intelligentsia, and a vivid portrayal of how those folk fled for their lives as the Bolsheviks took control)
I have really mixed feelings about Nabokov. I am pretty sure I like his fiction, although I find it challenging. I definitely don't like his opinion that it makes no sense to try to translate Eugene Onegin in verge (why is Pushkin so popular on this blog lately?). And I am not a fan of his decisions on how to transliterate. Ys in confusing places, and the rendering of the Cyrillic "Х" (normally "kh" as in "Khrushchev") as "H," the decision to just use the masculine form of the last name for women (Anna Karenin, instead of Karenina).
Oh wait, I'm digressing. In his autobiography, he also just doesn't seem like the most pleasant guy to be around. Arrogant, homophobic and with a clearly complicated relationship with his gay brother (11 months his junior), and certainly convinced he was the smartest guy in the room (which, unfortunately, he usually was). Plus early in this autobiography (composed of a series of essays and revised over time) he discloses that he read and wrote in English before he did in Russian. So English was virtually a native tongue to him, and my awe of his prowess has to be played down just the teeniest bit.
All that said, this is a masterful work. I've seen it said (and of course I can't provide citations, bad librarian) that this is the best autobiography of the twentieth century. I'm willing to believe it. What he does with language... I'm not sure anyone can beat him. In whatever tongue. But while I admire him all the more for having read this memoir, I'm not sure I like him.
(Not mentioned above but also worth noting: a glorious look at late imperial aristocracy/intelligentsia, and a vivid portrayal of how those folk fled for their lives as the Bolsheviks took control)
Thursday, February 06, 2014
Fake engagements!
Dukes to the Left of Me, Princes to the Right - Kieran Kramer (St. Martin's Paperbacks, 2010)
Crush on You - Christie Ridgway (Berkley Sensation, 2010)
Sorry folks, this is how it's going to be for awhile. In spite of all my past, present, and future mockery, few things are as stress-relieving for me as light-hearted romance novels.
And this time, instead of fake marriages, there are fake engagements! (Well, sort of.) Huzzah! First up is Poppy, who has gotten out of a slew of proposals by talking up her imaginary beau, the Duke of Drummond. This gets awkward when he shows up and pretty much backs her into a corner for his own purposes. Hence they are engaged, which infuriates Poppy, until it doesn't. Oh, and some Russian twins have their amorous eyes on the two of them as well. Good times.
Next is Alessandra, who deals more in almost-weddings. Tragedy marred what was supposed to be her wedding day, so it seems a little weird that she's refitting her family winery into a hot new wedding locale. But that's what you have to do to save the family business, sometimes. And then there's Penn, whose backstory is absurd, but he's the handsome host of one of those heartwarming home remodeling shows, and has reasons to help out with the winery. But they are not the most interesting couple in the book. The B plot here is superb. Clare's upcoming nuptials are the winery's path to salvation, but she's starting to look at her long-time BFF in a new way. So yeah, the fake engagement isn't particularly obvious from this synopsis, but it's sort of there, I promise.
And I'm going back to the library tomorrow :) On the other hand, I'm also reading Nabokov's memoir, so I think they even each other out.
Crush on You - Christie Ridgway (Berkley Sensation, 2010)
Sorry folks, this is how it's going to be for awhile. In spite of all my past, present, and future mockery, few things are as stress-relieving for me as light-hearted romance novels.
And this time, instead of fake marriages, there are fake engagements! (Well, sort of.) Huzzah! First up is Poppy, who has gotten out of a slew of proposals by talking up her imaginary beau, the Duke of Drummond. This gets awkward when he shows up and pretty much backs her into a corner for his own purposes. Hence they are engaged, which infuriates Poppy, until it doesn't. Oh, and some Russian twins have their amorous eyes on the two of them as well. Good times.
Next is Alessandra, who deals more in almost-weddings. Tragedy marred what was supposed to be her wedding day, so it seems a little weird that she's refitting her family winery into a hot new wedding locale. But that's what you have to do to save the family business, sometimes. And then there's Penn, whose backstory is absurd, but he's the handsome host of one of those heartwarming home remodeling shows, and has reasons to help out with the winery. But they are not the most interesting couple in the book. The B plot here is superb. Clare's upcoming nuptials are the winery's path to salvation, but she's starting to look at her long-time BFF in a new way. So yeah, the fake engagement isn't particularly obvious from this synopsis, but it's sort of there, I promise.
And I'm going back to the library tomorrow :) On the other hand, I'm also reading Nabokov's memoir, so I think they even each other out.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Drama in Verse
The Golden Gate - Vikram Seth (Faber & Faber, 1986)
It's a novel. Composed of sonnets. 300 pages of sonnets. All of the ababccddeffegg rhyme scheme, although he fudges some rhymes. Oh, and at the end, we see "pain" over and over again. But we also have rhymes for words like Dinkelspiel (hey Dink!) so I can be in a forgiving and still admiring mood.
Here's the thing. This book languished on my shelf for years because I am bad at reading poetry. I get bored, I meander. But when I finally picked it up, I was shocked at how quickly I got into the rhythm of reading it. Occasionally I'd have to stop to admire the construction, or I'd trip over some perceived awkwardness of meter, but the story is so compelling.
I kept saying it was like "Eugene Onegin meets a CW show," but in fairness, Onegin itself is like a great big soap opera. (Seth takes a moment to ask the reader's forgiveness for presuming to follow in Pushkin's footsteps.) My fiance quickly gave up as I tried to get through the interweaving story lines (this guy is dating this chick and his friend is with her brother except then there's a cat and also... etc.) which was disappointing, because I wanted someone to join me in fascination of the train wreck of these people's lives.
People, by the way, who weren't all that different from me. It's the early 80s, so the economic and political climate is a little different, sure, but you're still dealing with highly educated men and women in their late 20s, trying to figure out their place in the world, often colliding together and breaking apart.
So as not to ruin the fun of the plot for anyone who might actually pick up the book one day, I'll leave it there. But I found it shockingly moving. And also quite funny. Much of a chapter concerns the battle between boyfriend John and the grumpy cat who first laid claim to Liz, years earlier. (Made me glad my two boys love each other.) And you can pretty much guess who's going to win that one.
It's a novel. Composed of sonnets. 300 pages of sonnets. All of the ababccddeffegg rhyme scheme, although he fudges some rhymes. Oh, and at the end, we see "pain" over and over again. But we also have rhymes for words like Dinkelspiel (hey Dink!) so I can be in a forgiving and still admiring mood.
Here's the thing. This book languished on my shelf for years because I am bad at reading poetry. I get bored, I meander. But when I finally picked it up, I was shocked at how quickly I got into the rhythm of reading it. Occasionally I'd have to stop to admire the construction, or I'd trip over some perceived awkwardness of meter, but the story is so compelling.
I kept saying it was like "Eugene Onegin meets a CW show," but in fairness, Onegin itself is like a great big soap opera. (Seth takes a moment to ask the reader's forgiveness for presuming to follow in Pushkin's footsteps.) My fiance quickly gave up as I tried to get through the interweaving story lines (this guy is dating this chick and his friend is with her brother except then there's a cat and also... etc.) which was disappointing, because I wanted someone to join me in fascination of the train wreck of these people's lives.
People, by the way, who weren't all that different from me. It's the early 80s, so the economic and political climate is a little different, sure, but you're still dealing with highly educated men and women in their late 20s, trying to figure out their place in the world, often colliding together and breaking apart.
So as not to ruin the fun of the plot for anyone who might actually pick up the book one day, I'll leave it there. But I found it shockingly moving. And also quite funny. Much of a chapter concerns the battle between boyfriend John and the grumpy cat who first laid claim to Liz, years earlier. (Made me glad my two boys love each other.) And you can pretty much guess who's going to win that one.
Friday, January 17, 2014
You bear the unbearable because you have no other choice
The Book Thief - Markus Zusak (Alfred A. Knopf, 2005)
You have to know this book is setting you up to carry a heavy weight. The setting: Nazi Germany. The narrator: Death. That's all you really need to know, yes?
Liesel steals her first book at her brother's graveside. Her brother, who died beside her on a train as her mother accompanied them to a new foster home. Her father? A Communist, so who knows where he was. Liesel gets new parents, a harridan of a mother and a gentle musician father. And a new life. She learns to read, makes friends, all against the backdrop of a gathering storm, that breaks out in Poland, and then everywhere.
And then... her new Papa owes his survival in the First World War to a comrade who lost his life. He vowed to the widow that he would be there to repay the debt. And so the family finds itself sheltering a young Jewish man in the basement.
Because it's Nazi Germany, even the glimmers of joy are against a background of dread, destruction, and death. Speaking of death, the narrator helpfully softens the blow by foreshadowing much that befalls them. And yet, each time the dagger falls, it cuts. Reading this book is a devastating experience.
And yet, there are those glimmers of joy and beauty. For one, you discover that beneath the carping facade of Liesel's foster mother is a loving, giving, and strong woman. Zusak offers a plausible depiction of a town where many of the people (with a capital P if you like) do not subscribe to the policies and beliefs of the Nazis, and perform their own small acts of rebellion. Everyone was culpable, but maybe some did all they could.
You have to know this book is setting you up to carry a heavy weight. The setting: Nazi Germany. The narrator: Death. That's all you really need to know, yes?
Liesel steals her first book at her brother's graveside. Her brother, who died beside her on a train as her mother accompanied them to a new foster home. Her father? A Communist, so who knows where he was. Liesel gets new parents, a harridan of a mother and a gentle musician father. And a new life. She learns to read, makes friends, all against the backdrop of a gathering storm, that breaks out in Poland, and then everywhere.
And then... her new Papa owes his survival in the First World War to a comrade who lost his life. He vowed to the widow that he would be there to repay the debt. And so the family finds itself sheltering a young Jewish man in the basement.
Because it's Nazi Germany, even the glimmers of joy are against a background of dread, destruction, and death. Speaking of death, the narrator helpfully softens the blow by foreshadowing much that befalls them. And yet, each time the dagger falls, it cuts. Reading this book is a devastating experience.
And yet, there are those glimmers of joy and beauty. For one, you discover that beneath the carping facade of Liesel's foster mother is a loving, giving, and strong woman. Zusak offers a plausible depiction of a town where many of the people (with a capital P if you like) do not subscribe to the policies and beliefs of the Nazis, and perform their own small acts of rebellion. Everyone was culpable, but maybe some did all they could.
Fake marriages, there were none
The Duke is Mine - Eloisa James (Avon, 2012)
Rescue Me - Rachel Gibson (Avon, 2012)
So here's the thing. I always thought I preferred contemporary romance, and maybe I do, but I'm starting to get the appeal of the period romances. Nineteenth-century England is an exciting place.
As I mentioned, no fake marriages, although marriage is a driving force in the plot. A wedding brings Sadie back to Texas, where she meets ex-Navy SEAL Vince, in town to see his aunt. Since their stays are both temporary, they figure they would be good company for one another. And you know where this is going, except you might be surprised at how much time they spend apart, each battling their own demons.
Olivia is betrothed, not a situation she particularly craves. But that's not the marriage in question here. The real involved Tarquin [really?] who has allowed his mother to pretty much select his bride and who thus finds himself playing host to two eligible ladies, one of whom is Olivia's sister. And Olivia is along for the ride too. Just go with it. And there is much banter and adorableness. So much banter. Why aren't romance novels all banter?
Rescue Me - Rachel Gibson (Avon, 2012)
So here's the thing. I always thought I preferred contemporary romance, and maybe I do, but I'm starting to get the appeal of the period romances. Nineteenth-century England is an exciting place.
As I mentioned, no fake marriages, although marriage is a driving force in the plot. A wedding brings Sadie back to Texas, where she meets ex-Navy SEAL Vince, in town to see his aunt. Since their stays are both temporary, they figure they would be good company for one another. And you know where this is going, except you might be surprised at how much time they spend apart, each battling their own demons.
Olivia is betrothed, not a situation she particularly craves. But that's not the marriage in question here. The real involved Tarquin [really?] who has allowed his mother to pretty much select his bride and who thus finds himself playing host to two eligible ladies, one of whom is Olivia's sister. And Olivia is along for the ride too. Just go with it. And there is much banter and adorableness. So much banter. Why aren't romance novels all banter?
2013 Year in Review
Time to quickly look back at 2013, before I mention that I've already read 3 books in 2014. So here goes:
Books read: 47 (decent)
Of those, how many were:
*Romance novels: 9, let's say
*Owned by me: 15 (down a little from last year, but still respectable)
*YA: 9 (mostly trilogies)
*Written by female authors: 28 (60%, down from 70% last year. Additionally, if you take out the YA trilogies and the romance novels, we're down to 11 of 30. Hmm.)
Books read: 47 (decent)
Of those, how many were:
*Romance novels: 9, let's say
*Owned by me: 15 (down a little from last year, but still respectable)
*YA: 9 (mostly trilogies)
*Written by female authors: 28 (60%, down from 70% last year. Additionally, if you take out the YA trilogies and the romance novels, we're down to 11 of 30. Hmm.)
*Non-fiction: 9. Plus 4 were histories! Good work
Favorites:
Was one of those a clear "best read of the year"? I don't think so. But each of them not only compelled me to keep reading and reading, but they also raised questions that kept me thinking well after the book was over.
Goals for 2014? None yet. This is going to be a busy year - good heavens wedding planning is a project - but I want to keep carving out reading time. I'm trusting myself to follow my instincts on what I should be reading. Hopefully that will mean continuing to whittle down that big "to-read" shelf a bit too.
Goals for 2014? None yet. This is going to be a busy year - good heavens wedding planning is a project - but I want to keep carving out reading time. I'm trusting myself to follow my instincts on what I should be reading. Hopefully that will mean continuing to whittle down that big "to-read" shelf a bit too.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Wait, what?
Breakfast of Champions - Kurt Vonnegut Jr. (Dell, 1973)
Last night, the Stanford Prison Experiment came up in conversation, which led me to the Milgram experiment, the Third Wave, and the blue eyed/brown eyed exercise. These all dated to the 1960s and early 1970s, which led me to wonder what exactly was going on in the air those days.
(I mean, I sort of know the answer, but seriously...)
Which leads me to Vonnegut. It's been a long time since I've read him, and I guess maybe I had forgotten how eccentric his writing could be.
The novel is the lead up to a momentous meeting between a crazy old science fiction writer and a prosperous businessman that ends with the businessman going postal and eventually (after the action of the novel) the author achieving acclaim and winning a Nobel Prize for Medicine.
Oh, and a huge supporting cast. Including Vonnegut himself, in town to watch his creations on their collision course.
The important part: every character matters and has a real story. No minor character should be treated as minor. In fact, "so many Americans [were] treated by their government as though their lives were disposable [...] because that was the way authors customarily treated bit-part players in their made-up tales." None of this for Vonnegut. Which makes for a whole lot of story. And also illustrations, and commentary, and a matter-of-fact telling of some of the less attractive parts of American culture and history, the way someone in hundreds of years might explain it to a child, or to an alien visitor.
Seems a reasonable way to ring out 2013, I suppose.
Last night, the Stanford Prison Experiment came up in conversation, which led me to the Milgram experiment, the Third Wave, and the blue eyed/brown eyed exercise. These all dated to the 1960s and early 1970s, which led me to wonder what exactly was going on in the air those days.
(I mean, I sort of know the answer, but seriously...)
Which leads me to Vonnegut. It's been a long time since I've read him, and I guess maybe I had forgotten how eccentric his writing could be.
The novel is the lead up to a momentous meeting between a crazy old science fiction writer and a prosperous businessman that ends with the businessman going postal and eventually (after the action of the novel) the author achieving acclaim and winning a Nobel Prize for Medicine.
Oh, and a huge supporting cast. Including Vonnegut himself, in town to watch his creations on their collision course.
The important part: every character matters and has a real story. No minor character should be treated as minor. In fact, "so many Americans [were] treated by their government as though their lives were disposable [...] because that was the way authors customarily treated bit-part players in their made-up tales." None of this for Vonnegut. Which makes for a whole lot of story. And also illustrations, and commentary, and a matter-of-fact telling of some of the less attractive parts of American culture and history, the way someone in hundreds of years might explain it to a child, or to an alien visitor.
Seems a reasonable way to ring out 2013, I suppose.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
All good things...
Allegiant - Veronica Roth (Katherine Tegen Books, 2013)
I feel like I had heard this book had a rather controversial ending. I get it - I mean, how can you [REDACTED] and not expect people to be upset? I'll admit, my suspicions ran in a different direction. As a result, I felt okay about Roth's decisions, although I suppose I will have to go look around for some press where she talks more about it.
Throughout the series, the motivating force is the desire for agency as it comes into conflict with a world that wants to use the characters as puppets. And the circles just keep expanding. Here we go outside the only world Tris has ever known, and discover that what has seemed high stakes has pretty much been child's play. Again, they have been tools in someone's grander scheme.
I find myself at a bit of loss for what else to say. I'm frustrated by the YA staple of 16 year olds being placed in positions of great authority. Um, no. (Maybe this is why it's a dystopia? :P) I wonder about the relationships, and how they would look if they were being nurtured by less apocalyptic times. And how the film will adapt the major plotlines. And what on earth was going on behind the science, which generally just made my head hurt. But it was a really fun ride, especially Divergent. I look forward to the alternative world trilogy in which the stakes stay a little smaller, and people carve out what it means to have agency and be human without overthrowing regime after regime after regime.
I feel like I had heard this book had a rather controversial ending. I get it - I mean, how can you [REDACTED] and not expect people to be upset? I'll admit, my suspicions ran in a different direction. As a result, I felt okay about Roth's decisions, although I suppose I will have to go look around for some press where she talks more about it.
Throughout the series, the motivating force is the desire for agency as it comes into conflict with a world that wants to use the characters as puppets. And the circles just keep expanding. Here we go outside the only world Tris has ever known, and discover that what has seemed high stakes has pretty much been child's play. Again, they have been tools in someone's grander scheme.
I find myself at a bit of loss for what else to say. I'm frustrated by the YA staple of 16 year olds being placed in positions of great authority. Um, no. (Maybe this is why it's a dystopia? :P) I wonder about the relationships, and how they would look if they were being nurtured by less apocalyptic times. And how the film will adapt the major plotlines. And what on earth was going on behind the science, which generally just made my head hurt. But it was a really fun ride, especially Divergent. I look forward to the alternative world trilogy in which the stakes stay a little smaller, and people carve out what it means to have agency and be human without overthrowing regime after regime after regime.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Undiscovered County
The Lost Continent: Travels in Small-Town America - Bill Bryson (Perennial, 1989)
This was my other travel book, although I didn't get to it until the plane ride home. But it was nice to "return" to America with Bryson and his journey from the center of the country out to the edges and back again.
This isn't my favorite of the books I've read - the humor seems a little meaner somehow - but it was fascinating to live vicariously as he drove down little roads and got lost. His search for the perfect small town was marred by bland, homogenous motels and diners as well as by crassly commercial tourist traps. And yet he regularly came across beautiful and interesting sites.
Coming from California, I have to remind myself (if I bother) that there's a whole rest of the country that sees my state as pretty much a foreign land. And this was likely even more the case a quarter century ago. So I'm glad for Bryson's reminder that there's a pretty fascinating (and boring, or fascinatingly boring) land out there between the coasts.
This was my other travel book, although I didn't get to it until the plane ride home. But it was nice to "return" to America with Bryson and his journey from the center of the country out to the edges and back again.
This isn't my favorite of the books I've read - the humor seems a little meaner somehow - but it was fascinating to live vicariously as he drove down little roads and got lost. His search for the perfect small town was marred by bland, homogenous motels and diners as well as by crassly commercial tourist traps. And yet he regularly came across beautiful and interesting sites.
Coming from California, I have to remind myself (if I bother) that there's a whole rest of the country that sees my state as pretty much a foreign land. And this was likely even more the case a quarter century ago. So I'm glad for Bryson's reminder that there's a pretty fascinating (and boring, or fascinatingly boring) land out there between the coasts.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Lad lit!
The Calligrapher - Edward Docx (Houghton Mifflin, 2003)
Vacation reading. In fact, I was on a cruise line resort "in" Haiti when I finished this book. And I made everyone else in my cabana (#firstworldproblems) listen to my wtf explanations when I got to the last page and realized that there was no next chapter.
But if I complain too much, I'll probably give away too much, and I'm sure plenty of people will be perfectly satisfied with this ending anyway.
Jasper is this suave superior London calligrapher, who is working on a series of John Donne love poems. Along the way, his philandering ruins one relationship and sets him on a collision course with his sexy new neighbor. He pulls out all the stops to win her over, but will his past misdeeds catch up with him?
I saw the plot twists coming, and didn't find Jasper particularly sympathetic, but yet was perfectly happy to come along for the ride. Jasper was a prick, but an interesting storyteller, and you reached the point where you'd be fine seeing him either weasel his way to victory or receive a humiliating comeuppance. Either way. I saw the plot twists coming from pretty far away (and perhaps that was the intention) but they were still nicely delivered. In the end I was willing to accept that Docx's ending was probably better than the one I was waiting for. Or the other one I was waiting for. Or the third.
Vacation reading. In fact, I was on a cruise line resort "in" Haiti when I finished this book. And I made everyone else in my cabana (#firstworldproblems) listen to my wtf explanations when I got to the last page and realized that there was no next chapter.
But if I complain too much, I'll probably give away too much, and I'm sure plenty of people will be perfectly satisfied with this ending anyway.
Jasper is this suave superior London calligrapher, who is working on a series of John Donne love poems. Along the way, his philandering ruins one relationship and sets him on a collision course with his sexy new neighbor. He pulls out all the stops to win her over, but will his past misdeeds catch up with him?
I saw the plot twists coming, and didn't find Jasper particularly sympathetic, but yet was perfectly happy to come along for the ride. Jasper was a prick, but an interesting storyteller, and you reached the point where you'd be fine seeing him either weasel his way to victory or receive a humiliating comeuppance. Either way. I saw the plot twists coming from pretty far away (and perhaps that was the intention) but they were still nicely delivered. In the end I was willing to accept that Docx's ending was probably better than the one I was waiting for. Or the other one I was waiting for. Or the third.
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