My blog and I have turned another year older, but I think I've fared better in that year since I got to read all kinds of books and my blog came to a screeching halt in the summer when I moved. Note to self: never start a blog that depends on keeping track of the books you've bought and read each month when you have to box them all up for three weeks and wait five days to have internet connection.
While I really do want to keep tabs on what I get and what I read each month, perhaps a better approach is less formal. I'll blog what I want to blog (the BookMooch rant is coming) and when I want to blog. A running tally of monthly books will be kept in my sidebar. I may post monthly recaps, I may not. Am definitely going to work on my reviewing skills and try my hand at witty essays. If you're lucky, I might post them here, for the whole zero of you that read this blog.
As a swift recap, here are my top ten books read in 2008 (in no particular order):
1) Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman
2) Hogfather and the City Watch Discworld novels - Terry Pratchett
3) The Extraordinary and Unusual Adventures of Horatio Lyle (& sequels) - Catherine Webb
4) I Was Told There'd Be Cake - Sloane Crosley
5) The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
6) The Sweet Far Thing - Libba Bray
7) Holidays on Ice - David Sedaris
8) Northanger Abbey - Jane Austen
9) The Cabinet of Wonders - Marie Rutkoski
10) The Gun Seller - Hugh Laurie
So half the list is teen, most is fiction, and the rest is satirical. Pretty average year's reading, all in all. I've probably really enjoyed more than those ten, but it was hard to even remember enough to fill the list. And don't say I cheated by putting in whole series because I only listed them as one entry. So there.
The worst book of 2008 was Breaking Dawn. Stephenie Meyer's bad-fanfic opus should be burnt. Literally the worst ending to an enjoyable series. We pretend it doesn't exist. Also on the bad list is The Abstinence Teacher by Tom Perrotta. Enjoyable, yes, well written, yes, but the two main characters lacked real motivation and were too static for a lot of sympathy. The second biggest disappointment was Carol Goodman's The Night Villa. That's not to say I didn't enjoy it, but it wasn't as good as her older works. A tad too predictable, and it lacked a fully satisfactory ending. Sure, the bad guys got theirs, the herione feels older and wiser, but Goodman had set it up for a hero and romance and fell just short of giving it. Similarly was The Monsters of Templeton. Very different from what I expected, it was a little heavy-handed and lacking in development in some places. But I grudgingly liked it in the end. Enough not to BookMooch my copy? I don't know yet.
Hopefully 2009 is a good year for books. I'm looking forward to several books slated to be published in the spring, including a ghost story from Sarah Waters and a new Carlos Ruiz Zafon ode to books. And the fourth Horatio Lyle book, which I will be ordering from the UK. (Yes, my addiction is so bad that I'm importing books and mooching on top of my employee discount. It's like I get paid in books.)
Happy Birthday, This Is Your Brain On Reading. May you live long.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Sunday, June 15, 2008
May, Or The Month In Which I Do Not Read THE HOST
May 2008
Books Bought:
Enthusiasm - Polly Shulman
Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman
Books Received Gratis:
A Town Like Paris - Bryce Corbett
Heretic's Daughter - Kathleen Kent
Petite Anglaise - Catherine Sanderson
The Spiritualist - Megan Chance
Tigerheart - Peter David
Lost On Planet China - J. Maarten Troost
Books Read:
Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman
Enthusiasm - Polly Shulman
Evernight - Claudia Gray
Petite Anglaise - Catherine Sanderson
If it weren't for teen books, I would have only read two books this month - the amazing Neverwhere (which I lingered over) and Petite Anglaise. Teen books, or YA as they are also called, are oft looked down upon. Anyone over the age of 12 shouldn't be seen reading one if you want to appear smart and mature, is the conventional wisdom. Well, anyone who takes that snotty attitude is missing out on some very excellent books. Unfortunately, this month I didn't read any excellent ones (teen ones - Neverwhere is excellent), just one good one and one very bad one.
Polly Shulman's Enthusiasm is a sweet, enjoyable little volume. In this Pride & Prejudice-inspired tale of first love, Julie Lefkowitz's best friend Ashleigh's obsession with Jane Austen leads to the girls crashing a dance at the exclusive boys' boarding school in an effort to find their Mr. Darcys. At the dance, the girls meet Grandison Parr and his friend Ned and embark on a series of misunderstandings and suppressed emotions. Both Julie and Ashleigh fall for Parr, the Darcyish hero, only Ashleigh thinks Julie likes Ned and tries to set them up. Enthusiasm suffers only from a lack of complete plot and character development - the groundwork is there, and the story is adorable, but the characters need a little more fleshing out and the plot often gets it's base material confused with Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream.
I found Enthusiasm in the teen section of a bookstore in Salem. I bought it on a whim because it's blurbed by Stephenie Meyer, the author of the crack-like Twilight saga. Being the book lover I am, I'm always interested in the books and authors that my favorite authors like. Judging by Enthusiasm and her own books, Ms. Meyer loves chick-lit and romance. (Which is probably why The Host is a love triangle with only two bodies!! Side note: My boss and I were asked about The Host by a customer, and we didn't have much to go on other than the reviews and the first sentence: The healer's name was Fords Deep Waters. After the customer left, L turns to me and asks "What was that guy's name again? Fudge Dreamweaver?" I laughed for hours.)
Sadly, the other teen novel I read did not live up to it's promise, which is extremely disappointing. Evernight, the first in a quartet by Claudia Gray, sounded absolutely delicious from the jacket copy. Bianca, the heroine, begins attending this spooky, Gothic boarding school full of uber-perfect, menacing students and there are all these whispers and hints that soon...dun-dun-DUN!!!....she'll be one of them! Bianca hates it, and attempts to run away. Her attempt is foiled by Lucas, the predictably cute outsider/rebel. They fall for each other, but Lucas tries to stay away from Bianca, enigmatically saying that it's dangerous for her to be with him. And up until about the halfway point, the book is deliciously creepy.
Unfortunately, the Big Plot Twist occurs then, and it ruins the rest of the book. Turns out, Evernight Academy is a school for vampires. And Bianca is one of them. She was born a vampire (both her parents are vampires) and has known all along that one day she'd have to bite someone and become a full grown vampire. While it doesn't entirely come out of left field, the twist left me shaking my head. As did the direction the story took after Bianca bit - but not killed - Lucas. The entire first half is ruined by Gray's decision to have Bianca reveal she's known all along. Then, in what seems like a hasty measure to give her room to write another book, it's revealed that Lucas is descended from a long line of vampire hunters. Yep kids, it's Romeo and Juliet with fangs. After Lucas's reveal, there is a chase and utterly unsuspensful climax, resulting in a non-ending. I am so, so, so disappointed in Claudia Gray. Evernight could have been an amazing book as she clearly has some talent and imagination, but not enough to save the story. It really feels like two very different drafts were hastily edited together, rather than a cohesive book.
Petite Anglaise, my non-fiction read for the month, was an interesting experience. It is a book about a blogger, and having my own blog, where I am currently blogging about it made it kind of narcissistically reflexive and ironically voyeuristic. Catherine Sanderson, the woman behind PetiteAnglaise.com, parlayed her popular blog into a memoir about the start of her blog and the end of her relationship with her daughter's father. Living the French life she'd always wanted, Catherine found herself in Paris with a distant boyfriend and a secretarial job. So she begain a blog about her day to day life. As her alter ego Petite Anglaise rose in popularity, Catherine found herself in a bit of a double life, including an affair with a charming reader. Petite Anglaise the book is definitely real life chick lit, but it is an interesting glimpse into the blogosphere and how much cyberspace can mess with your private life.
And now we get to Neverwhere, the book I wonder why I didn't read a long time ago because it's JUST THAT GOOD. Neil Gaiman's tale of an alternate London is so brilliantly realized and lushly creepy and perfect. Having read Stardust and Good Omens, I knew Gaiman was capable of brilliance, but Neverwhere is just fantastic. Richard Mayhew, an average if a bit wimpy Londoner, finds himself simply erased from his life after helping a mysterious girl named Door. Determined to get his life back, Richard follows Door into the world of London Below where he is totally out of his league. An extremely dark Alice in Wonderland-type story, it will keep you up at night. The evil and gore-happy Messrs Croup and Vandermar are the stuff of nightmares but the Marquis was by far my favorite character, with such an ambiguous moral code and witty repartee that he stole the show, err, book. Simply excellent reading.
So May was a month of highs and lows, lots of advance copies but very little actual book buying (don't worry, I've made up for it with June's employee appreciation sale where we get an extra 10% discount on top of our already excellent discount). I've already read two books, and we're only halfway through June, so it looks very promising reading-wise. But I am working up to a second reading of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, which will take me quite some time. Oh, and why didn't I read The Host, you ask? Because there's only so much time to read, and well, she lost me at Fords Deep Waters.
Books Bought:
Enthusiasm - Polly Shulman
Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman
Books Received Gratis:
A Town Like Paris - Bryce Corbett
Heretic's Daughter - Kathleen Kent
Petite Anglaise - Catherine Sanderson
The Spiritualist - Megan Chance
Tigerheart - Peter David
Lost On Planet China - J. Maarten Troost
Books Read:
Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman
Enthusiasm - Polly Shulman
Evernight - Claudia Gray
Petite Anglaise - Catherine Sanderson
If it weren't for teen books, I would have only read two books this month - the amazing Neverwhere (which I lingered over) and Petite Anglaise. Teen books, or YA as they are also called, are oft looked down upon. Anyone over the age of 12 shouldn't be seen reading one if you want to appear smart and mature, is the conventional wisdom. Well, anyone who takes that snotty attitude is missing out on some very excellent books. Unfortunately, this month I didn't read any excellent ones (teen ones - Neverwhere is excellent), just one good one and one very bad one.
Polly Shulman's Enthusiasm is a sweet, enjoyable little volume. In this Pride & Prejudice-inspired tale of first love, Julie Lefkowitz's best friend Ashleigh's obsession with Jane Austen leads to the girls crashing a dance at the exclusive boys' boarding school in an effort to find their Mr. Darcys. At the dance, the girls meet Grandison Parr and his friend Ned and embark on a series of misunderstandings and suppressed emotions. Both Julie and Ashleigh fall for Parr, the Darcyish hero, only Ashleigh thinks Julie likes Ned and tries to set them up. Enthusiasm suffers only from a lack of complete plot and character development - the groundwork is there, and the story is adorable, but the characters need a little more fleshing out and the plot often gets it's base material confused with Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream.
I found Enthusiasm in the teen section of a bookstore in Salem. I bought it on a whim because it's blurbed by Stephenie Meyer, the author of the crack-like Twilight saga. Being the book lover I am, I'm always interested in the books and authors that my favorite authors like. Judging by Enthusiasm and her own books, Ms. Meyer loves chick-lit and romance. (Which is probably why The Host is a love triangle with only two bodies!! Side note: My boss and I were asked about The Host by a customer, and we didn't have much to go on other than the reviews and the first sentence: The healer's name was Fords Deep Waters. After the customer left, L turns to me and asks "What was that guy's name again? Fudge Dreamweaver?" I laughed for hours.)
Sadly, the other teen novel I read did not live up to it's promise, which is extremely disappointing. Evernight, the first in a quartet by Claudia Gray, sounded absolutely delicious from the jacket copy. Bianca, the heroine, begins attending this spooky, Gothic boarding school full of uber-perfect, menacing students and there are all these whispers and hints that soon...dun-dun-DUN!!!....she'll be one of them! Bianca hates it, and attempts to run away. Her attempt is foiled by Lucas, the predictably cute outsider/rebel. They fall for each other, but Lucas tries to stay away from Bianca, enigmatically saying that it's dangerous for her to be with him. And up until about the halfway point, the book is deliciously creepy.
Unfortunately, the Big Plot Twist occurs then, and it ruins the rest of the book. Turns out, Evernight Academy is a school for vampires. And Bianca is one of them. She was born a vampire (both her parents are vampires) and has known all along that one day she'd have to bite someone and become a full grown vampire. While it doesn't entirely come out of left field, the twist left me shaking my head. As did the direction the story took after Bianca bit - but not killed - Lucas. The entire first half is ruined by Gray's decision to have Bianca reveal she's known all along. Then, in what seems like a hasty measure to give her room to write another book, it's revealed that Lucas is descended from a long line of vampire hunters. Yep kids, it's Romeo and Juliet with fangs. After Lucas's reveal, there is a chase and utterly unsuspensful climax, resulting in a non-ending. I am so, so, so disappointed in Claudia Gray. Evernight could have been an amazing book as she clearly has some talent and imagination, but not enough to save the story. It really feels like two very different drafts were hastily edited together, rather than a cohesive book.
Petite Anglaise, my non-fiction read for the month, was an interesting experience. It is a book about a blogger, and having my own blog, where I am currently blogging about it made it kind of narcissistically reflexive and ironically voyeuristic. Catherine Sanderson, the woman behind PetiteAnglaise.com, parlayed her popular blog into a memoir about the start of her blog and the end of her relationship with her daughter's father. Living the French life she'd always wanted, Catherine found herself in Paris with a distant boyfriend and a secretarial job. So she begain a blog about her day to day life. As her alter ego Petite Anglaise rose in popularity, Catherine found herself in a bit of a double life, including an affair with a charming reader. Petite Anglaise the book is definitely real life chick lit, but it is an interesting glimpse into the blogosphere and how much cyberspace can mess with your private life.
And now we get to Neverwhere, the book I wonder why I didn't read a long time ago because it's JUST THAT GOOD. Neil Gaiman's tale of an alternate London is so brilliantly realized and lushly creepy and perfect. Having read Stardust and Good Omens, I knew Gaiman was capable of brilliance, but Neverwhere is just fantastic. Richard Mayhew, an average if a bit wimpy Londoner, finds himself simply erased from his life after helping a mysterious girl named Door. Determined to get his life back, Richard follows Door into the world of London Below where he is totally out of his league. An extremely dark Alice in Wonderland-type story, it will keep you up at night. The evil and gore-happy Messrs Croup and Vandermar are the stuff of nightmares but the Marquis was by far my favorite character, with such an ambiguous moral code and witty repartee that he stole the show, err, book. Simply excellent reading.
So May was a month of highs and lows, lots of advance copies but very little actual book buying (don't worry, I've made up for it with June's employee appreciation sale where we get an extra 10% discount on top of our already excellent discount). I've already read two books, and we're only halfway through June, so it looks very promising reading-wise. But I am working up to a second reading of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, which will take me quite some time. Oh, and why didn't I read The Host, you ask? Because there's only so much time to read, and well, she lost me at Fords Deep Waters.
Friday, May 23, 2008
April, Or The Month I Read Five Books But Take Forever To Post
April 2008
Books Bought:
The Secret History of Moscow - Ekaterina Sedia
Then We Came To The End - Joshua Ferris
Thud! - Terry Pratchett
Scandal of the Season - Sophie Gee
Books Received Gratis:
None
Books Read:
I Was Told There'd Be Cake - Sloane Crosley
Holy Cow - Sarah MacDonald
Carolina Moon - Nora Roberts
The Secret History of Moscow - Ekaterina Sedia
The Seduction of Water - Carol Goodman
When you take almost a month to post about the preceding month, it can be difficult to remember what you've read. Especially when your brain is likely to be mush from lots of work and you've already moved on to another couple of books. So while I stared at my shelves for a long while trying to remember that fifth book I read, I swore I would post about May as soon as it was over.
I started off the month very well. At least, book wise. I finished two books I had started in March thanks to the lovely spring cold I had. Spending a day or two in bed because you're so sick that you've got green shadows under your eyes is is the perfect time to polish off a few books. It was under these conditions that I read Holy Cow and I Was Told There'd Be Cake.
Sloane Crosley, the nicest publicist in Manhattan, debuted with her darkly hysterical collection of essays I Was Told There'd Be Cake. Her first story "The Pony Problem", had me hooked instantly. Getting a little "I spotted it first!!" thrill, I was eager to read and then recommend it. In fact, I sold my coworker D on it without reading any more than "The Pony Problem". Since then everyone else has discovered Ms. Crosley and I get to feel smug and self-satisfied. (Trust me, that's a rare feeling for me).
Riverhead, Ms. Crosley's publisher, hyped the book as "mordantly funny" and compared her writing to that of Sarah Vowell and David Sedaris. I'm a fan of Vowell - if you haven't, go read Assassination Vacation. Any book where a historical figure gets dubbed Jinxy McDeath is brilliant - but I'm not that thrilled with Sedaris (half my bookstore and nearly all of the book blogging/reviewing community just gasped and clutched their hearts). Sedaris is a popular writer and I enjoyed Dress Your Family In Corduroy And Denim, but it didn't make me laugh. Smart books - the type of book you want to love and be able to lord over your book hipster pals - should make you laugh. And I don't mean to yourself, no, you must laugh out loud and not be able to prevent the sound from escaping your body despite the potential for stares if you are in public. Between confessing to her secret shame toy pony stash and facing mystery poo left on her bathroom floor after a dinner party, Sloane Crosley's acerbic wit turned me into a fan girl.
(In fact, I was such a fan girl that when I discovered she'd be at our rival's store for a reading the same night I had an author event, I emailed her publicist and used all my power as an author events manager to beg for her to stop in and sign our stock. She did, and I was at the info desk when she came in. She really is incredibly nice and signed the few copies we had in store (it was flying off the shelves then) and signed my copy. As a thanks I gave her a candle shaped like a slice of cake, thinking she'd appreciate the irony. A few weeks later she sent me an email saying thank you and that she enjoyed the candle. )
Holy Cow, a travel/clash of cultures memoir by Sarah MacDonald, an Australian journalist who moved to India to be with her boyfriend and future husband who was stationed there as the Australian Broadcasting Co's correspondent, was our April book club selection. Despite her initial impression of India as a grimy, crowded, disgusting place during a trip in her 20's, MacDonald breaks her vow never to return when Jonathan is sent there for work and she realizes she can't stay behind in Australia. Struggling to adjust to Indian ways of life and fill her days while Jonathan is on assignment, Sarah begins a spiritual quest to experience all India has to offer. She visits holy sites and attends festivals and retreats and gets hugged by living saints as she samples Hinduism, Jainism, Buddhism, Sikhism, Parsisim....and every other religion India has to offer. Though the tour de force of spiritualism begins to feel like a "if it's Tuesday, this must be Belgium"-type trip, MacDonald's irreverent and realistic reactions are a nice antidote. She says what she - and let's admit it, we - thinks even if it's not the most politically correct response. However, she remains polite, open-minded, and optimistic as she slowly adopts India as her new home. When 9/11 breaks through her yoga-doing, navel-gazing cocoon and Jonathan faces real danger on assignment in Afghanistan, the story is quickly wrapped up as the newlyweds return to Australia.
(When the bookclub met to discuss Holy Cow, we had a very interesting discussion of the culture clashes and the criticism MacDonald drew from Parsis for her slightly satirical remarks on their burial practices. Several new members joined the club, including one woman who was very, erm, chatty. While B, K, and I were trying to escape her after the meeting, my favorite Red Sox player, Jonathan Papelbon, came into the store with his wife and bought books. I totally missed him, and was so jealous of L, who got to ring him up. And yes, I know what they bought, but that's a little secret we'll be keeping for them. Let the Papelbons have their privacy.)
Following HC and IWTTBC, I dipped into a guilty pleasure. Yes, my secret book shame is a predilection for Nora Roberts novels. They're like junk food, or as C's daughter puts it, "potato chip books". I had a full, two days in a row weekend off - something that has been a rarity for me since February - and several busy weeks and working weekends up ahead. I wanted a cozy book I could read in a weekend. Combining mystery, buried secrets, romance, and a wee bit of the paranormal, Roberts's novels are comfort reading without getting too trashy. She does write strong heroines and absorbing-if-shallow plots. I chose Carolina Moon, mostly because I had caught the made-for-TV Lifetime movie adaptation staring Claire Forlani and Oliver Hudson while channel surfing one lazy day. The story of Tory Bodeen, a survivor of an abusive, poor white trash upbringing who just happens to have The Sight, returns to her hometown to face the shame and secrets surrounding the murder of her best friend, little rich girl Hope Lavelle. As you can guess, Tory solves Hope's murder, faces backstabbing and whispers, makes friends, and outwits the killer stalking her while falling in love with Hope's brother Cade. This is one of the rare times when I will say this, but the movie was better than the book. (Blasphemy!!)
Next, I read Ekaterina Sedia's fantasy novel, The Secret History of Moscow. With a blurb from Neil Gaiman claiming the book to be "[a] lovely, disconcerting novel", and a very interesting premise, I picked it up despite my previous disappointment with Russian Fantasy (Night Watch by Sergei Lukyanenko). The novel follows Galina, a troubled young woman, and Yakov, a disillusioned police inspector, as they enter an Oz-like otherworld populated by folklore characters and people who have slipped through the cracks in history. Galina is trying to find her beloved sister Masha who was turned into a jackdaw and Yakov is investigating several similar disappearances. Joined by Fyodor, an alcoholic street painter, and some fairy tale characters, they discover a plot that threatens both Moscow Above and Moscow Below. Enjoyably creepy and unfamiliarly fresh, SHoM redeemed Russian Fantasy a little. Something got lost in translation (a common problem with these books it seems) or there is an assumption that the reader is very familiar with Russian history and folklore, but unlike Night Watch, SHoM had just enough explanations to keep my head above water. Sedia shows promise, and if the plot and characters had been fleshed out a little more the book would have been amazing. I will most likely read it again, and hopefully it will improve with a second look.
Rounding out the month and meeting my five books goal was Carol Goodman's The Seduction of Water. This was a reread for me. I 'discovered' Goodman when I first started working at the bookstore. There was an advance copy of The Ghost Orchid, and it sounded just interesting enough to make me go "hey, it's free, so if it sucks, who cares?" I ended up enjoying Ghost Orchid and went on to read all her other works which were much better. She's most famous for her Secret History-like The Lake of Dead Languages, but I prefer The Seduction of Water. Maybe it's the layers of Irish myth or the fairy tale motif or even the romance between main character Iris and her Irish ex-con beau Aidan. Whatever it is, Seduction of Water is a deliciously absorbing gem of an atmospheric literary thriller. There are not many books in that genre or authors that can pull them off, but Goodman is adept and pulls you in with that snuggle-under-the-covers feeling from childhood when mommy tucked you and told you a favorite bedtime story. On a second read, the fairy tale motif seemed much more heavy handed than before, as does the reliance on coincidence, but if you can suspend your disbelief, Goodman makes it worth your while. In August, her latest book - The Night Villa - is coming out and I'm looking forward to reading it.
May will soon be over, and I cannot say I will read as much as I did in April. However, I read something amazing (Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman) and am working on a book that pubs in June (Petite Anglaise by Catherine Sanderson) that I will enjoy reviewing for you. And I may also write about Lucie Whitehouse's novel due out in June, which would be two sneak previews for the price of one blog post. Unless I actually manage to write a monthly post plus reviews. Now wouldn't that be something?
Books Bought:
The Secret History of Moscow - Ekaterina Sedia
Then We Came To The End - Joshua Ferris
Thud! - Terry Pratchett
Scandal of the Season - Sophie Gee
Books Received Gratis:
None
Books Read:
I Was Told There'd Be Cake - Sloane Crosley
Holy Cow - Sarah MacDonald
Carolina Moon - Nora Roberts
The Secret History of Moscow - Ekaterina Sedia
The Seduction of Water - Carol Goodman
When you take almost a month to post about the preceding month, it can be difficult to remember what you've read. Especially when your brain is likely to be mush from lots of work and you've already moved on to another couple of books. So while I stared at my shelves for a long while trying to remember that fifth book I read, I swore I would post about May as soon as it was over.
I started off the month very well. At least, book wise. I finished two books I had started in March thanks to the lovely spring cold I had. Spending a day or two in bed because you're so sick that you've got green shadows under your eyes is is the perfect time to polish off a few books. It was under these conditions that I read Holy Cow and I Was Told There'd Be Cake.
Sloane Crosley, the nicest publicist in Manhattan, debuted with her darkly hysterical collection of essays I Was Told There'd Be Cake. Her first story "The Pony Problem", had me hooked instantly. Getting a little "I spotted it first!!" thrill, I was eager to read and then recommend it. In fact, I sold my coworker D on it without reading any more than "The Pony Problem". Since then everyone else has discovered Ms. Crosley and I get to feel smug and self-satisfied. (Trust me, that's a rare feeling for me).
Riverhead, Ms. Crosley's publisher, hyped the book as "mordantly funny" and compared her writing to that of Sarah Vowell and David Sedaris. I'm a fan of Vowell - if you haven't, go read Assassination Vacation. Any book where a historical figure gets dubbed Jinxy McDeath is brilliant - but I'm not that thrilled with Sedaris (half my bookstore and nearly all of the book blogging/reviewing community just gasped and clutched their hearts). Sedaris is a popular writer and I enjoyed Dress Your Family In Corduroy And Denim, but it didn't make me laugh. Smart books - the type of book you want to love and be able to lord over your book hipster pals - should make you laugh. And I don't mean to yourself, no, you must laugh out loud and not be able to prevent the sound from escaping your body despite the potential for stares if you are in public. Between confessing to her secret shame toy pony stash and facing mystery poo left on her bathroom floor after a dinner party, Sloane Crosley's acerbic wit turned me into a fan girl.
(In fact, I was such a fan girl that when I discovered she'd be at our rival's store for a reading the same night I had an author event, I emailed her publicist and used all my power as an author events manager to beg for her to stop in and sign our stock. She did, and I was at the info desk when she came in. She really is incredibly nice and signed the few copies we had in store (it was flying off the shelves then) and signed my copy. As a thanks I gave her a candle shaped like a slice of cake, thinking she'd appreciate the irony. A few weeks later she sent me an email saying thank you and that she enjoyed the candle. )
Holy Cow, a travel/clash of cultures memoir by Sarah MacDonald, an Australian journalist who moved to India to be with her boyfriend and future husband who was stationed there as the Australian Broadcasting Co's correspondent, was our April book club selection. Despite her initial impression of India as a grimy, crowded, disgusting place during a trip in her 20's, MacDonald breaks her vow never to return when Jonathan is sent there for work and she realizes she can't stay behind in Australia. Struggling to adjust to Indian ways of life and fill her days while Jonathan is on assignment, Sarah begins a spiritual quest to experience all India has to offer. She visits holy sites and attends festivals and retreats and gets hugged by living saints as she samples Hinduism, Jainism, Buddhism, Sikhism, Parsisim....and every other religion India has to offer. Though the tour de force of spiritualism begins to feel like a "if it's Tuesday, this must be Belgium"-type trip, MacDonald's irreverent and realistic reactions are a nice antidote. She says what she - and let's admit it, we - thinks even if it's not the most politically correct response. However, she remains polite, open-minded, and optimistic as she slowly adopts India as her new home. When 9/11 breaks through her yoga-doing, navel-gazing cocoon and Jonathan faces real danger on assignment in Afghanistan, the story is quickly wrapped up as the newlyweds return to Australia.
(When the bookclub met to discuss Holy Cow, we had a very interesting discussion of the culture clashes and the criticism MacDonald drew from Parsis for her slightly satirical remarks on their burial practices. Several new members joined the club, including one woman who was very, erm, chatty. While B, K, and I were trying to escape her after the meeting, my favorite Red Sox player, Jonathan Papelbon, came into the store with his wife and bought books. I totally missed him, and was so jealous of L, who got to ring him up. And yes, I know what they bought, but that's a little secret we'll be keeping for them. Let the Papelbons have their privacy.)
Following HC and IWTTBC, I dipped into a guilty pleasure. Yes, my secret book shame is a predilection for Nora Roberts novels. They're like junk food, or as C's daughter puts it, "potato chip books". I had a full, two days in a row weekend off - something that has been a rarity for me since February - and several busy weeks and working weekends up ahead. I wanted a cozy book I could read in a weekend. Combining mystery, buried secrets, romance, and a wee bit of the paranormal, Roberts's novels are comfort reading without getting too trashy. She does write strong heroines and absorbing-if-shallow plots. I chose Carolina Moon, mostly because I had caught the made-for-TV Lifetime movie adaptation staring Claire Forlani and Oliver Hudson while channel surfing one lazy day. The story of Tory Bodeen, a survivor of an abusive, poor white trash upbringing who just happens to have The Sight, returns to her hometown to face the shame and secrets surrounding the murder of her best friend, little rich girl Hope Lavelle. As you can guess, Tory solves Hope's murder, faces backstabbing and whispers, makes friends, and outwits the killer stalking her while falling in love with Hope's brother Cade. This is one of the rare times when I will say this, but the movie was better than the book. (Blasphemy!!)
Next, I read Ekaterina Sedia's fantasy novel, The Secret History of Moscow. With a blurb from Neil Gaiman claiming the book to be "[a] lovely, disconcerting novel", and a very interesting premise, I picked it up despite my previous disappointment with Russian Fantasy (Night Watch by Sergei Lukyanenko). The novel follows Galina, a troubled young woman, and Yakov, a disillusioned police inspector, as they enter an Oz-like otherworld populated by folklore characters and people who have slipped through the cracks in history. Galina is trying to find her beloved sister Masha who was turned into a jackdaw and Yakov is investigating several similar disappearances. Joined by Fyodor, an alcoholic street painter, and some fairy tale characters, they discover a plot that threatens both Moscow Above and Moscow Below. Enjoyably creepy and unfamiliarly fresh, SHoM redeemed Russian Fantasy a little. Something got lost in translation (a common problem with these books it seems) or there is an assumption that the reader is very familiar with Russian history and folklore, but unlike Night Watch, SHoM had just enough explanations to keep my head above water. Sedia shows promise, and if the plot and characters had been fleshed out a little more the book would have been amazing. I will most likely read it again, and hopefully it will improve with a second look.
Rounding out the month and meeting my five books goal was Carol Goodman's The Seduction of Water. This was a reread for me. I 'discovered' Goodman when I first started working at the bookstore. There was an advance copy of The Ghost Orchid, and it sounded just interesting enough to make me go "hey, it's free, so if it sucks, who cares?" I ended up enjoying Ghost Orchid and went on to read all her other works which were much better. She's most famous for her Secret History-like The Lake of Dead Languages, but I prefer The Seduction of Water. Maybe it's the layers of Irish myth or the fairy tale motif or even the romance between main character Iris and her Irish ex-con beau Aidan. Whatever it is, Seduction of Water is a deliciously absorbing gem of an atmospheric literary thriller. There are not many books in that genre or authors that can pull them off, but Goodman is adept and pulls you in with that snuggle-under-the-covers feeling from childhood when mommy tucked you and told you a favorite bedtime story. On a second read, the fairy tale motif seemed much more heavy handed than before, as does the reliance on coincidence, but if you can suspend your disbelief, Goodman makes it worth your while. In August, her latest book - The Night Villa - is coming out and I'm looking forward to reading it.
May will soon be over, and I cannot say I will read as much as I did in April. However, I read something amazing (Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman) and am working on a book that pubs in June (Petite Anglaise by Catherine Sanderson) that I will enjoy reviewing for you. And I may also write about Lucie Whitehouse's novel due out in June, which would be two sneak previews for the price of one blog post. Unless I actually manage to write a monthly post plus reviews. Now wouldn't that be something?
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
March, Or The Month In Which I Start Many Books But Only Finish Two
March 2008
Books Purchased:
The Girl Who Stopped Swimming - Joshilyn Jackson
I Was Told There'd Be Cake - Sloane Crosley
The Ordinary Princess - M.M. Kaye
Wildwood Dancing - Juliet Marillier
How To Seduce A Ghost - Hope McIntyre
The Color of Light - Karen White
Books Received Gratis:
The Lace Reader - Brunonia Barry
The House at Midnight - Lucie Whitehouse
Books Read:
The House at Midnight - Lucie Whitehouse
The Girl Who Stopped Swimming - Joshilyn Jackson
Books Started:
Holy Cow - Sarah MacDonald
The Lace Reader - Brunonia Barry
How To Seduce A Ghost - Hope McIntyre
I Was Told There'd Be Cake - Sloane Crosley
I have a problem. My bookshelves are bursting. I continue to buy (and be given) books. Always with the intention to read it next or just after the one I've been meaning to read but can't because I need to finish this month's book club selection first. Long ago I accepted the fact that there will always be more books that I want to read than I possibly can. I'm no Harriet Klausner, the Amazon super-reviewer who allegedly can read six books in a day. (Miss Harriet is the subject of much controversy. Some people, mostly Harriet-haters, think she's not a real person - one theory is that she's a syndicate, another is that she's a robot. Personally, I find her annoying and usually unhelpful as she likes everything she reads). But now my ratio of purchased to read is completely skewed and I'm losing ability to finish a book I've started before getting wrapped up in the next. In fact, this month it wasn't even the books' faults! I want to read all of them, but each time I started something, a better book came along. Well, except for How To Seduce A Ghost. That I stopped because I got bored.
March did start off auspiciously. I read a book in an entire weekend, something I do not normally get the opportunity to do. This particular book was an advance copy of Lucie Whitehouse's debut novel, The House At Midnight. When I found THAM unclaimed in the latest shipment of ARCs, I was thrilled. I did not know anything about the book, but the back copy sounded intriguing. Frankly, I had been hoping for an advance of Carol Goodman's next, The Night Villa. That wasn't in the box, but THAM seemed like an excellent substitute. I could not put the book down, and have already determined that it will be the store's recommended title when it pubs in June. In the vein of The Secret History, it's a haunting story of 30-something friends who spend the summer at a country mansion filled with secrets and tensions.
After THAM, I wanted more of the same. So I tried How To Seduce A Ghost. Not the right choice. Admittedly, this could have been a victim of the dreaded Follow Up Book Syndrome or FUBS (See January), but it was lacking. A worrywart ghostwriter named Lee lives an unsatisfying life until she gets caught up in the mystery surrounding a neighbor's death in a fire. Should appeal to me, right? Nope. Lee was too whiny, always complaining about her overbearing mother or how she didn't love her boyfriend Tommy as much as she should. I did a bad thing and peeped at the end. The creepy fruit and veg man dun it. Yawn.
Moving on, I chose Holy Cow by Sarah MacDonald. Changing tack usually defeats FUBS, so this memoir of learning to live in (and love) India seemed like a great antidote, and it was. At least until The Lace Reader came around. I will finish HC - I'm almost there, actually - as it was our book club pick for April. Kind of a hipper, younger Eat, Pray, Love, which seems to be the It Book that female-majority clubs are reading. I'd sent for TLR myself, half-interested and thinking it was free so who cared if it sucked. The night I received it, I read three chapters, all very promising. It may even be better than I'd expect - after all, Joshilyn Jackson, who I will talk about very soon, was raving about it at her reading. But alas, TLR was halted for The Girl Who Stopped Swimming.
For a long time, my friend LG has been praising Joshilyn Jackson and trying to get me to read gods In Alabama, Joshilyn's first book. I was hesitant - the book descriptions always sounded great up to a point and then I'd read a phrase or line that made me go "maybe...not...." Well, she finally got me. The Girl Who Stopped Swimming, Joshilyn's third novel, came out in March and she went on tour. This tour brought her to Boston, and we had just selected TGWSS as the March recommended title. Joshilyn didn't appear at our store, but at one across the river in Cambridge. I talked LT into going with me as cover for my "spy mission" - I like to attend events at other stores to compare with ours. Well, after listening to Joshilyn for half an hour, we both were hooked. Joshilyn was adorable and funny and I had to have a signed copy. After that I dived into TGWSS.
Kind of Jodi Picoultish, TGWSS follows Laurel, a suburban mom and quilt designer, after her "just so" perfect world crumbles in the wake of a neighbor teen's death in Laurel's swimming pool. Haunted - literally and figuratively - Laurel becomes obsessed with solving the girl's death. Enlisting the aid of her estranged sister Thalia, Laurel embarks on a mission that stretches the bounds of her sanity and her relationships with her husband, daughter, and parents. Thalia is an in your face Tasmanian devil of trouble who hampers Laurel as much as she helps. Family secrets - sexual abuse, murder, absolute poverty - simmer just below the surface of Laurel's investigation. All in all, highly enjoyable if somewhat predictable. Thalia was a brilliant character and Laurel, though somewhat trying, was a relatable character. Laurel's quilts, with their odd found adornments (one has a human tooth disguised in a flower with pearl petals) and hidden not-quite-rightness (like a bird skull peeking out of a pocket) were an excellent metaphor for her state of mind and her relationship with her family. I will read more of Joshilyn's works - after all, she's my 'twin' as a crazy guy in the audience made a point of informing me, her, and the rest of the audience.
Once TGWSS was finished, I had just enough time to read some more Holy Cow and then get one essay into Sloane Crosley's hilarious I Was Told There'd Be Cake. Both of those will be reviewed in full in April's entry. Rounding out my March purchases were two books I'd already read - Juliet Marillier's Wildwood Dancing and M.M. Kaye's The Ordinary Princess - and one book recommended to me, The Color of Light (K recommended it as a Carol Goodman-like novel after I'd hooked her on CG). I've nearly memorized The Ordinary Princess and already own a copy - it was my favorite book as a child, and given to me by a beloved aunt. Fantastically brilliant, it satirizes fairy tales while being a truly enchanting one in its own right. I'm planning to adapt it into a screenplay as a writing exercise. Wildwood Dancing is a retelling of the Twelve Dancing Princesses set in Romania and imbued with a bit of the Transylvania vampire legends. I read it in a day when it was in hardcover and now that it's in paperback, I had to have it.
I'm crossing my fingers that April goes better than March. I will finish Holy Cow and I Was Told There'd Be Cake. No more reading a book without finishing the one I'm already reading (unless it's dreadful, then abandon away!) In fact, I bet I can read five books in April. Anyone want to take that wager?
Books Purchased:
The Girl Who Stopped Swimming - Joshilyn Jackson
I Was Told There'd Be Cake - Sloane Crosley
The Ordinary Princess - M.M. Kaye
Wildwood Dancing - Juliet Marillier
How To Seduce A Ghost - Hope McIntyre
The Color of Light - Karen White
Books Received Gratis:
The Lace Reader - Brunonia Barry
The House at Midnight - Lucie Whitehouse
Books Read:
The House at Midnight - Lucie Whitehouse
The Girl Who Stopped Swimming - Joshilyn Jackson
Books Started:
Holy Cow - Sarah MacDonald
The Lace Reader - Brunonia Barry
How To Seduce A Ghost - Hope McIntyre
I Was Told There'd Be Cake - Sloane Crosley
I have a problem. My bookshelves are bursting. I continue to buy (and be given) books. Always with the intention to read it next or just after the one I've been meaning to read but can't because I need to finish this month's book club selection first. Long ago I accepted the fact that there will always be more books that I want to read than I possibly can. I'm no Harriet Klausner, the Amazon super-reviewer who allegedly can read six books in a day. (Miss Harriet is the subject of much controversy. Some people, mostly Harriet-haters, think she's not a real person - one theory is that she's a syndicate, another is that she's a robot. Personally, I find her annoying and usually unhelpful as she likes everything she reads). But now my ratio of purchased to read is completely skewed and I'm losing ability to finish a book I've started before getting wrapped up in the next. In fact, this month it wasn't even the books' faults! I want to read all of them, but each time I started something, a better book came along. Well, except for How To Seduce A Ghost. That I stopped because I got bored.
March did start off auspiciously. I read a book in an entire weekend, something I do not normally get the opportunity to do. This particular book was an advance copy of Lucie Whitehouse's debut novel, The House At Midnight. When I found THAM unclaimed in the latest shipment of ARCs, I was thrilled. I did not know anything about the book, but the back copy sounded intriguing. Frankly, I had been hoping for an advance of Carol Goodman's next, The Night Villa. That wasn't in the box, but THAM seemed like an excellent substitute. I could not put the book down, and have already determined that it will be the store's recommended title when it pubs in June. In the vein of The Secret History, it's a haunting story of 30-something friends who spend the summer at a country mansion filled with secrets and tensions.
After THAM, I wanted more of the same. So I tried How To Seduce A Ghost. Not the right choice. Admittedly, this could have been a victim of the dreaded Follow Up Book Syndrome or FUBS (See January), but it was lacking. A worrywart ghostwriter named Lee lives an unsatisfying life until she gets caught up in the mystery surrounding a neighbor's death in a fire. Should appeal to me, right? Nope. Lee was too whiny, always complaining about her overbearing mother or how she didn't love her boyfriend Tommy as much as she should. I did a bad thing and peeped at the end. The creepy fruit and veg man dun it. Yawn.
Moving on, I chose Holy Cow by Sarah MacDonald. Changing tack usually defeats FUBS, so this memoir of learning to live in (and love) India seemed like a great antidote, and it was. At least until The Lace Reader came around. I will finish HC - I'm almost there, actually - as it was our book club pick for April. Kind of a hipper, younger Eat, Pray, Love, which seems to be the It Book that female-majority clubs are reading. I'd sent for TLR myself, half-interested and thinking it was free so who cared if it sucked. The night I received it, I read three chapters, all very promising. It may even be better than I'd expect - after all, Joshilyn Jackson, who I will talk about very soon, was raving about it at her reading. But alas, TLR was halted for The Girl Who Stopped Swimming.
For a long time, my friend LG has been praising Joshilyn Jackson and trying to get me to read gods In Alabama, Joshilyn's first book. I was hesitant - the book descriptions always sounded great up to a point and then I'd read a phrase or line that made me go "maybe...not...." Well, she finally got me. The Girl Who Stopped Swimming, Joshilyn's third novel, came out in March and she went on tour. This tour brought her to Boston, and we had just selected TGWSS as the March recommended title. Joshilyn didn't appear at our store, but at one across the river in Cambridge. I talked LT into going with me as cover for my "spy mission" - I like to attend events at other stores to compare with ours. Well, after listening to Joshilyn for half an hour, we both were hooked. Joshilyn was adorable and funny and I had to have a signed copy. After that I dived into TGWSS.
Kind of Jodi Picoultish, TGWSS follows Laurel, a suburban mom and quilt designer, after her "just so" perfect world crumbles in the wake of a neighbor teen's death in Laurel's swimming pool. Haunted - literally and figuratively - Laurel becomes obsessed with solving the girl's death. Enlisting the aid of her estranged sister Thalia, Laurel embarks on a mission that stretches the bounds of her sanity and her relationships with her husband, daughter, and parents. Thalia is an in your face Tasmanian devil of trouble who hampers Laurel as much as she helps. Family secrets - sexual abuse, murder, absolute poverty - simmer just below the surface of Laurel's investigation. All in all, highly enjoyable if somewhat predictable. Thalia was a brilliant character and Laurel, though somewhat trying, was a relatable character. Laurel's quilts, with their odd found adornments (one has a human tooth disguised in a flower with pearl petals) and hidden not-quite-rightness (like a bird skull peeking out of a pocket) were an excellent metaphor for her state of mind and her relationship with her family. I will read more of Joshilyn's works - after all, she's my 'twin' as a crazy guy in the audience made a point of informing me, her, and the rest of the audience.
Once TGWSS was finished, I had just enough time to read some more Holy Cow and then get one essay into Sloane Crosley's hilarious I Was Told There'd Be Cake. Both of those will be reviewed in full in April's entry. Rounding out my March purchases were two books I'd already read - Juliet Marillier's Wildwood Dancing and M.M. Kaye's The Ordinary Princess - and one book recommended to me, The Color of Light (K recommended it as a Carol Goodman-like novel after I'd hooked her on CG). I've nearly memorized The Ordinary Princess and already own a copy - it was my favorite book as a child, and given to me by a beloved aunt. Fantastically brilliant, it satirizes fairy tales while being a truly enchanting one in its own right. I'm planning to adapt it into a screenplay as a writing exercise. Wildwood Dancing is a retelling of the Twelve Dancing Princesses set in Romania and imbued with a bit of the Transylvania vampire legends. I read it in a day when it was in hardcover and now that it's in paperback, I had to have it.
I'm crossing my fingers that April goes better than March. I will finish Holy Cow and I Was Told There'd Be Cake. No more reading a book without finishing the one I'm already reading (unless it's dreadful, then abandon away!) In fact, I bet I can read five books in April. Anyone want to take that wager?
Sunday, March 9, 2008
February, Or The Month In Which I Did Not Read P&P On The 14th
February 2008
Books Purchased:
I Capture the Castle - Dodie Smith
Solstice Wood - Patricia McKillip
The Female Quioxte - Charlotte Lennox
Books Received Gratis:
Resistance - Owen Sheers
Playing with Grownups - Sophie Dahl
Books Read:
Becoming Jane Austen - Jon Spence
The Dead Fathers Club - Matt Haig
The Female Quixote - Charlotte Lennox
Since I was in high school, every year I've read Pride and Prejudice for Valentine's Day. Elizabeth and Darcy's romance always seemed to assuage the fact that I didn't have a date. Honestly, most years I didn't care that much and preferred to cuddle up with P&P. This year, tradition changed.
Masterpiece Theatre was running The Complete Jane Austen, with the full 6-hour P&P miniseries starring Jennifer Ehle and Colin "Mr. Darcy" Firth. Pride and Prejudice, the way it was meant to be filmed. This is one of those few times where TV/movies come close to overtaking the book they're based on. So, I had my Valentine's fill of P&P. Plus, Masterpiece's adaptation of Northanger Abbey (in fact, the only Jane adaptation that Masterpiece has aired besides P&P that was not a piece of merde) had been a lovely confection, so with the adorable JJ Field in mind as Henry Tilney, I set out to read a different Jane than usual: Northanger Abbey. And earlier than usual, for as you know, I read NA in January.
For my follow up, I delved into Jon Spence's Becoming Jane Austen. BJA was the basis for the film of the same name in which Anne Hathaway played a character named Jane Austen, but was not the venerable Miss Austen who wrote those novels. That's the best defense I've been able to come up with for the film. It was based on reality, but was actually complete fiction. If Jane were alive today, the film would have begun "the names have been changed to protect the innocent and misportrayed."
Spence was a historical consultant on the film. He was also the historian who 'discovered' the importance of Jane's relationship with Tom LeFroy. Before Spence, most Austen scholars viewed LeFroy as a friend of Jane's when she was in her late teens and early twenties. They flirted at balls and assemblies - at worst it was meaningless fun, at most it was puppy love. Spence however, has evidence that LeFroy was much more to Jane, so much more in fact that he influenced her writing for the rest of her life. Most of Spence's claims revolve around some similarities between names and places in Austen's novels and the novel Tom Jones, which was LeFroy's favorite book. Due the commonality of names and travels at the time, most of Spence's evidence is suspicious. The most meaningful piece, however, is a question that a niece or nephew asks of LeFroy years later - if he had been in love with Miss Austen the novelist. Why, years later, would Tom be asked this unless is was known that he and Jane had been friends. If there had been nothing between them, the question would have been "Did you know Miss Austen?"
Aside from Tom LeFroy, Eliza de Feuillade is the other major influence on Jane in Spence's biography. Spence frequently points out that much of Jane's inspiration came from her family history and daily life. Persuasion it seems, was rooted in the tale of an ancestor, and the play scenes in Mansfield Park came from a home theatrical when Jane was young. As the glamorous, rich, older cousin, Eliza first enthralled then frightened Jane. Spence makes the case for Eliza being Jane's model for Mary Crawford in MP. When Eliza began to pursue Jane's beloved brother Henry, Jane was shocked and outraged. The theory is that she wrote MP to warn Henry away from Eliza/Mary by casting him in the role of Edmund, who ultimately marries Fanny. She named Mary's brother Henry and gave him some of her brother's more free spirited qualities also as a warning - if he wasn't careful, he could end up like Henry Crawford.
Most of Spence's theories were not fully convincing, however BJA was an enjoyable biography of Miss Austen. At least, that is, once you got past the first two chapters. Those comprise the histories of Jane's parents' families as far back as the 1600s. Cramming many facts into those chapters made them dry and at times highly indecipherable. I wanted to throw the book against the wall, but I stuck with it and was rewarded with many chapters full of Jane that will add to my future readings of her work.
After BJA, I picked up The Female Quixote by Charlotte Lennox. TFQ was a recommendation from my friend E. Much like Northanger Abbey, it is a satire of romance novels. In this case, the novels being skewered are French romances written by the likes of Scuderey, where heroines are carried off by ravishers and heroes must prove their worth by single-handedly fighting off armies. TFQ is the story of Arabella, a strong willed young woman who was raised in exile by her father, a Marquis. With not much else to do but read, Arabella fills her head with the romances favored by her late mother, and lacking the proper society and instruction, she believes them to be accurate portraits of the world beyond her manor house. When she meets the outside world after the death of her father, hi jinx ensue as Arabella mistakes would be suitors for ravishers, and even throws herself into the Thames to avoid being carried off. Much of her misadventures vex the poor Mr. Glanville, her cousin who loves her deeply for the intelligent woman she is when she's not in the throws of a romance-induced fit.
TFQ took me a while to read. Written in 1752, the language is even older than that of a Jane Austen novel, and I often had to read the same sentence several times before it made sense. Arabella's adventures were amusing, but after several hundred pages, they did become tedious. Mr. Glanville spends most of his time wishing for Arabella to be cured of her fantasies, and his sister spends most her time snitting because Arabella is more beautiful. However, The Female Quixote was very enjoyable, and I like to think if they had met, Arabella would definitely get along with NA's Catherine Morland.
The third book I read in February was our book club selection, The Dead Fathers Club by Matt Haig. An update of Hamlet, it has been lauded as Haddonesque, referring to the popular Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime (which I have not read, so I cannot say if that is accurate praise). TDFC is the story of 11-yr-old Phillip Noble, who is devastated at the death of his dad.
Even worse, his lecherous Uncle Alan is making moves on Phillip's newly widowed mum. Then Phillip's father's ghost starts appearing to him, urging him to revenge his death by killing Alan, who the ghost claims murdered him. Poor Phillip doesn't know what to do and finds himself beset by ghosts, well meaning but inept adults, his creepy Uncle Alan and Alan's cruel friends, and bullying classmates. Phillip's only solace is Leah, his girlfriend.
Haig does an excellent job of capturing Phillip's young, scared, inexperienced-yet-knowing voice. And as Phillip becomes deeper mired in the confusion and sadness that permeate the tale, events play out with freshness. Even though the story is Hamlet, each time the plot points meet, they come wholly unexpected. The ending, too, is much more ambiguous than Hamlet. In Shakespeare's play, the perfidiousness of the king is revealed at the end. In Haig's tale, one is left wondering if Alan is evil or if Phillip is mentally unstable.
So that was February. Once again, I read far less books than I thought I would. March, however looks very promising. In one weekend, I already polished off the advance copy we got of Lucie Whitehouse's The House At Midnight. But you'll have to wait until June to read about that one....
Books Purchased:
I Capture the Castle - Dodie Smith
Solstice Wood - Patricia McKillip
The Female Quioxte - Charlotte Lennox
Books Received Gratis:
Resistance - Owen Sheers
Playing with Grownups - Sophie Dahl
Books Read:
Becoming Jane Austen - Jon Spence
The Dead Fathers Club - Matt Haig
The Female Quixote - Charlotte Lennox
Since I was in high school, every year I've read Pride and Prejudice for Valentine's Day. Elizabeth and Darcy's romance always seemed to assuage the fact that I didn't have a date. Honestly, most years I didn't care that much and preferred to cuddle up with P&P. This year, tradition changed.
Masterpiece Theatre was running The Complete Jane Austen, with the full 6-hour P&P miniseries starring Jennifer Ehle and Colin "Mr. Darcy" Firth. Pride and Prejudice, the way it was meant to be filmed. This is one of those few times where TV/movies come close to overtaking the book they're based on. So, I had my Valentine's fill of P&P. Plus, Masterpiece's adaptation of Northanger Abbey (in fact, the only Jane adaptation that Masterpiece has aired besides P&P that was not a piece of merde) had been a lovely confection, so with the adorable JJ Field in mind as Henry Tilney, I set out to read a different Jane than usual: Northanger Abbey. And earlier than usual, for as you know, I read NA in January.
For my follow up, I delved into Jon Spence's Becoming Jane Austen. BJA was the basis for the film of the same name in which Anne Hathaway played a character named Jane Austen, but was not the venerable Miss Austen who wrote those novels. That's the best defense I've been able to come up with for the film. It was based on reality, but was actually complete fiction. If Jane were alive today, the film would have begun "the names have been changed to protect the innocent and misportrayed."
Spence was a historical consultant on the film. He was also the historian who 'discovered' the importance of Jane's relationship with Tom LeFroy. Before Spence, most Austen scholars viewed LeFroy as a friend of Jane's when she was in her late teens and early twenties. They flirted at balls and assemblies - at worst it was meaningless fun, at most it was puppy love. Spence however, has evidence that LeFroy was much more to Jane, so much more in fact that he influenced her writing for the rest of her life. Most of Spence's claims revolve around some similarities between names and places in Austen's novels and the novel Tom Jones, which was LeFroy's favorite book. Due the commonality of names and travels at the time, most of Spence's evidence is suspicious. The most meaningful piece, however, is a question that a niece or nephew asks of LeFroy years later - if he had been in love with Miss Austen the novelist. Why, years later, would Tom be asked this unless is was known that he and Jane had been friends. If there had been nothing between them, the question would have been "Did you know Miss Austen?"
Aside from Tom LeFroy, Eliza de Feuillade is the other major influence on Jane in Spence's biography. Spence frequently points out that much of Jane's inspiration came from her family history and daily life. Persuasion it seems, was rooted in the tale of an ancestor, and the play scenes in Mansfield Park came from a home theatrical when Jane was young. As the glamorous, rich, older cousin, Eliza first enthralled then frightened Jane. Spence makes the case for Eliza being Jane's model for Mary Crawford in MP. When Eliza began to pursue Jane's beloved brother Henry, Jane was shocked and outraged. The theory is that she wrote MP to warn Henry away from Eliza/Mary by casting him in the role of Edmund, who ultimately marries Fanny. She named Mary's brother Henry and gave him some of her brother's more free spirited qualities also as a warning - if he wasn't careful, he could end up like Henry Crawford.
Most of Spence's theories were not fully convincing, however BJA was an enjoyable biography of Miss Austen. At least, that is, once you got past the first two chapters. Those comprise the histories of Jane's parents' families as far back as the 1600s. Cramming many facts into those chapters made them dry and at times highly indecipherable. I wanted to throw the book against the wall, but I stuck with it and was rewarded with many chapters full of Jane that will add to my future readings of her work.
After BJA, I picked up The Female Quixote by Charlotte Lennox. TFQ was a recommendation from my friend E. Much like Northanger Abbey, it is a satire of romance novels. In this case, the novels being skewered are French romances written by the likes of Scuderey, where heroines are carried off by ravishers and heroes must prove their worth by single-handedly fighting off armies. TFQ is the story of Arabella, a strong willed young woman who was raised in exile by her father, a Marquis. With not much else to do but read, Arabella fills her head with the romances favored by her late mother, and lacking the proper society and instruction, she believes them to be accurate portraits of the world beyond her manor house. When she meets the outside world after the death of her father, hi jinx ensue as Arabella mistakes would be suitors for ravishers, and even throws herself into the Thames to avoid being carried off. Much of her misadventures vex the poor Mr. Glanville, her cousin who loves her deeply for the intelligent woman she is when she's not in the throws of a romance-induced fit.
TFQ took me a while to read. Written in 1752, the language is even older than that of a Jane Austen novel, and I often had to read the same sentence several times before it made sense. Arabella's adventures were amusing, but after several hundred pages, they did become tedious. Mr. Glanville spends most of his time wishing for Arabella to be cured of her fantasies, and his sister spends most her time snitting because Arabella is more beautiful. However, The Female Quixote was very enjoyable, and I like to think if they had met, Arabella would definitely get along with NA's Catherine Morland.
The third book I read in February was our book club selection, The Dead Fathers Club by Matt Haig. An update of Hamlet, it has been lauded as Haddonesque, referring to the popular Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime (which I have not read, so I cannot say if that is accurate praise). TDFC is the story of 11-yr-old Phillip Noble, who is devastated at the death of his dad.
Even worse, his lecherous Uncle Alan is making moves on Phillip's newly widowed mum. Then Phillip's father's ghost starts appearing to him, urging him to revenge his death by killing Alan, who the ghost claims murdered him. Poor Phillip doesn't know what to do and finds himself beset by ghosts, well meaning but inept adults, his creepy Uncle Alan and Alan's cruel friends, and bullying classmates. Phillip's only solace is Leah, his girlfriend.
Haig does an excellent job of capturing Phillip's young, scared, inexperienced-yet-knowing voice. And as Phillip becomes deeper mired in the confusion and sadness that permeate the tale, events play out with freshness. Even though the story is Hamlet, each time the plot points meet, they come wholly unexpected. The ending, too, is much more ambiguous than Hamlet. In Shakespeare's play, the perfidiousness of the king is revealed at the end. In Haig's tale, one is left wondering if Alan is evil or if Phillip is mentally unstable.
So that was February. Once again, I read far less books than I thought I would. March, however looks very promising. In one weekend, I already polished off the advance copy we got of Lucie Whitehouse's The House At Midnight. But you'll have to wait until June to read about that one....
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Mea Culpa
One and a half months into this blog, and I've already messed up.
I forgot Love Is A Mix Tape.
I meet an author, and I forget to include his book in my January recap.
Poor Rob Sheffield. If he remembers me from his book signing, and then he were to read this, I would understand completely if he hated me forever.
So yes, I read Love is a Mix Tape in January - mostly in one day, actually, which may have been why I did not include it. It certainly wasn't because it was the most horrid book I ever read - because it was not! LiaMT was a hilarious, touching tribute to music and Rob Sheffield's dead wife, Renee. While there was some generational gap-induced fly overs of cultural references (he was married for five years at about the time I entered high school. However, he looks like he's about 21 now, which is so unfair - I already have some white hairs, grr), the central core of the book rang clear. Rob Sheffield was in awe of two things: his wife and music. One has been gone for ten years, but he'll always have the mix tapes.
There once was a time I spent laboriously cataloging and tracking down all the songs used on a particular show I liked. It was the 90's, and I was a teenager with a radio and a dual cassette deck. I could make an entire tape of one song if I wanted, and I often taped hours of my then favorite radio station. Thankfully, my taste in music has improved and there are newer, better, faster ways of getting what you want in your music library. However, I still have yet to completely embrace MP3s and reject CDs - old habits die hard.
While I may not be obsessed like my coworker D is with Rob Sheffield, there is a part of me that will always be a geeky teen yearning to capture every second of Garbage's "Only Happy When It Rains" on my latest tape. So it was delightful to find myself in a room with about forty other music and mix tape devotees one January evening listening to Mr. Sheffield himself read from LiaMT. There were four of us, all in varying degrees of mix tape addictions. L was probably the least affected, while J and I tied for 2nd. I'd read the book, and thoroughly enjoyed it, but wasn't sure I wanted it signed, J got into it, but not enough to buy the book at full price (yes, we were at a competing bookstore....shh!). D was full on fangirling Rob, but she maintained a calm facade.
In the end, I gave J my book so she could have a signed copy. I was going to hang back with L, but she and D pulled me up to the front, where I tried to invite Rob to our store to sign stock, but he quite possibly thought I was hitting on him. Note to self: always have business cards in your wallet - ALWAYS. D and J introduced me as their coworker, and we chatted about how LiaMT is up for an award given out by the store we work for, how it was one of our Best Books of 2007, yadda yadda. And then I have to confess that I don't have a business card on me, which is why I'm going to hand him a piece of paper with my email and phone number on it. I swear, Rob, I was not trying to pick you up. Although, you were adorable, and D would have taken you home if she could.
I think I know why I didn't remember this in my January post. I was trying to block the whole embarrassing episode from memory. So I apologize to you, Mr. Sheffield, and vow to you, my reader, and myself never to forget a book again.
And yes, I still listen to Garbage when I'm in a bad mood.
I forgot Love Is A Mix Tape.
I meet an author, and I forget to include his book in my January recap.
Poor Rob Sheffield. If he remembers me from his book signing, and then he were to read this, I would understand completely if he hated me forever.
So yes, I read Love is a Mix Tape in January - mostly in one day, actually, which may have been why I did not include it. It certainly wasn't because it was the most horrid book I ever read - because it was not! LiaMT was a hilarious, touching tribute to music and Rob Sheffield's dead wife, Renee. While there was some generational gap-induced fly overs of cultural references (he was married for five years at about the time I entered high school. However, he looks like he's about 21 now, which is so unfair - I already have some white hairs, grr), the central core of the book rang clear. Rob Sheffield was in awe of two things: his wife and music. One has been gone for ten years, but he'll always have the mix tapes.
There once was a time I spent laboriously cataloging and tracking down all the songs used on a particular show I liked. It was the 90's, and I was a teenager with a radio and a dual cassette deck. I could make an entire tape of one song if I wanted, and I often taped hours of my then favorite radio station. Thankfully, my taste in music has improved and there are newer, better, faster ways of getting what you want in your music library. However, I still have yet to completely embrace MP3s and reject CDs - old habits die hard.
While I may not be obsessed like my coworker D is with Rob Sheffield, there is a part of me that will always be a geeky teen yearning to capture every second of Garbage's "Only Happy When It Rains" on my latest tape. So it was delightful to find myself in a room with about forty other music and mix tape devotees one January evening listening to Mr. Sheffield himself read from LiaMT. There were four of us, all in varying degrees of mix tape addictions. L was probably the least affected, while J and I tied for 2nd. I'd read the book, and thoroughly enjoyed it, but wasn't sure I wanted it signed, J got into it, but not enough to buy the book at full price (yes, we were at a competing bookstore....shh!). D was full on fangirling Rob, but she maintained a calm facade.
In the end, I gave J my book so she could have a signed copy. I was going to hang back with L, but she and D pulled me up to the front, where I tried to invite Rob to our store to sign stock, but he quite possibly thought I was hitting on him. Note to self: always have business cards in your wallet - ALWAYS. D and J introduced me as their coworker, and we chatted about how LiaMT is up for an award given out by the store we work for, how it was one of our Best Books of 2007, yadda yadda. And then I have to confess that I don't have a business card on me, which is why I'm going to hand him a piece of paper with my email and phone number on it. I swear, Rob, I was not trying to pick you up. Although, you were adorable, and D would have taken you home if she could.
I think I know why I didn't remember this in my January post. I was trying to block the whole embarrassing episode from memory. So I apologize to you, Mr. Sheffield, and vow to you, my reader, and myself never to forget a book again.
And yes, I still listen to Garbage when I'm in a bad mood.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
January, or The Month in Which I Buy One Book But Think About Many Things
January 2008
Books Purchased:
The Sweet Far Thing - Libba Bray
Books Received Gratis:
Angelica - Arthur Phillips
Books Read:
The Sweet Far Thing - Libba Bray
We Thought You Would Be Prettier - Laurie Notaro
Northanger Abbey - Jane Austen
I look like a slow reader. January 2008 is skewing my reputation as a fast reader. Admittedly, I'm not as fast as L or E, both of whom have train rides to and from work that give them additional reading time (and they have the ability to read on the T without getting motion sick, which happens instantly to me. Right. Overshare.) I swear I read more books in December. Despite the holiday craziness, I had more time to read because I was not doing my normal job, but just focusing on getting people to buy tons of books. Sure, I was working 10 hours a day, but when I got home it was much easier to read. And then I had lovely vacation time where I spent all day reading. Now it is back to the grind, and I'm reading less.
To be fair, The Sweet Far Thing - which I had (im)patiently waited all of December for - was 820 pages long. That will take me a while, especially when my body thinks snuggling down under my covers means it's time to sleep and I'm unconscious after three or four pages. TSFT was worth savoring, though, and it's length meant that for most of January, my nightly read was something extra special to look forward to. Even now, two weeks later, Bray's characters refuse to fade away into the background. TSFT was sumptious and brilliant, and I want to reread the whole trilogy again.
After TSFT, I felt spoiled. What book could I possibly read that I would enjoy as much? Sure, I've got a shelf full of old stand bys - Pride and Prejudice, Sorcery and Cecelia, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell... (Sensing a theme yet?) - but I wanted to read something new. So I picked Laurie Notaro's We Thought You Would Be Prettier off the shelf. It was a case of 'and now for something completely different', as We Thought is a collection of humorous essays and rantings of Laurie Notaro, the founder of the Idiot Girl's Action Adventure Club. While some of her essays were hilarious - like "National Stupidity Day" where screams at the stupid customer in line ahead of her at FedEx who wants them to track her package, for which she has no tracking slip and cannot even remember when she mailed it - most of the book was a let down. Quite possibly this was because I read it right after TSFT, and it fell victim to the curse of the rebound book - the one that you read after a really great book so that the following book has a better chance of surviving.
This time, I was smart. I turned to Jane - Jane Austen. Having seen Masterpiece Theatre's adaptation of Northanger Abbey as part of "The Complete Jane Austen", I knew what would pull me out of my post-TSFT depression. The story of Catherine Morland, a young girl with a head full of gothic novels and an overactive immagination, Northanger Abbey was a perfect foil to TSFT. While TSFT is a gothic, Jane's signature wit infuses NA with a loving critique of the genre. Indeed, Catherine comes to discover that gothic novels are often overblown fantasies, and her innoncent belief in them almost ruins her chances at love with the witty and charming Henry Tilney. Masterpiece Theatre's adaptation was cleverly done, with mini-fantasy sequences representing the effects of so much reading on someone with a fertile imagination like Catherine's (if she could've only read TSFT, her brain would have exploded from fantasy overload). Both the book and the movie were absorbing and satisfying, event if NA is not Miss Austen's best work.
Speaking of Jane, we're almost half way through "The Complete Jane Austen". Persuasion, Northanger Abbey, and Mansfield Park have all aired and tonight we get to see "Miss Austen Regrets", which is based on Jane's own love-life, a topic that many new books are delving into since Anne Hathaway's rather wretched attempt at portraying the venorable Ms. Austen in "Becoming Jane". Unfortunately, both "Persuasion" and "Mansfield Park" were terrible adaptations. While "Persuasion" at least had some watchable actors, "Mansfield Park" suffered from bad casting (Billie Piper did try, but she's no Fanny Price), bad direction, and a hideous script. "When did Masterpiece Theatre become Crap-piece Theatre?" my friend B asked after MP aired. Hopefully "Miss Austen Regrets" will be good, and possibly somewhat historically accurate (though Tom Lefroy is not mentioned at all in the write up, and even if he wasn't her Mr. Darcy like "Becoming Jane" suggested, he was a documented part of her life. And he was played by James McAvoy, mmm). Thankfully, they're not attempting to rewrite Pride and Prejudice and are airing the Firth-Ehle miniseries version.
So that is January, a month in which I bought only one book, but read three. Next I'll be reading The Dead Fathers Club for my bookclub and then hopefully tucking into Angelica, which I was thrilled to see at the bottom of the last ARC box we got. February's a short month, but I think I can improve upon my stats from January. We'll see if I'm right.
Books Purchased:
The Sweet Far Thing - Libba Bray
Books Received Gratis:
Angelica - Arthur Phillips
Books Read:
The Sweet Far Thing - Libba Bray
We Thought You Would Be Prettier - Laurie Notaro
Northanger Abbey - Jane Austen
I look like a slow reader. January 2008 is skewing my reputation as a fast reader. Admittedly, I'm not as fast as L or E, both of whom have train rides to and from work that give them additional reading time (and they have the ability to read on the T without getting motion sick, which happens instantly to me. Right. Overshare.) I swear I read more books in December. Despite the holiday craziness, I had more time to read because I was not doing my normal job, but just focusing on getting people to buy tons of books. Sure, I was working 10 hours a day, but when I got home it was much easier to read. And then I had lovely vacation time where I spent all day reading. Now it is back to the grind, and I'm reading less.
To be fair, The Sweet Far Thing - which I had (im)patiently waited all of December for - was 820 pages long. That will take me a while, especially when my body thinks snuggling down under my covers means it's time to sleep and I'm unconscious after three or four pages. TSFT was worth savoring, though, and it's length meant that for most of January, my nightly read was something extra special to look forward to. Even now, two weeks later, Bray's characters refuse to fade away into the background. TSFT was sumptious and brilliant, and I want to reread the whole trilogy again.
After TSFT, I felt spoiled. What book could I possibly read that I would enjoy as much? Sure, I've got a shelf full of old stand bys - Pride and Prejudice, Sorcery and Cecelia, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell... (Sensing a theme yet?) - but I wanted to read something new. So I picked Laurie Notaro's We Thought You Would Be Prettier off the shelf. It was a case of 'and now for something completely different', as We Thought is a collection of humorous essays and rantings of Laurie Notaro, the founder of the Idiot Girl's Action Adventure Club. While some of her essays were hilarious - like "National Stupidity Day" where screams at the stupid customer in line ahead of her at FedEx who wants them to track her package, for which she has no tracking slip and cannot even remember when she mailed it - most of the book was a let down. Quite possibly this was because I read it right after TSFT, and it fell victim to the curse of the rebound book - the one that you read after a really great book so that the following book has a better chance of surviving.
This time, I was smart. I turned to Jane - Jane Austen. Having seen Masterpiece Theatre's adaptation of Northanger Abbey as part of "The Complete Jane Austen", I knew what would pull me out of my post-TSFT depression. The story of Catherine Morland, a young girl with a head full of gothic novels and an overactive immagination, Northanger Abbey was a perfect foil to TSFT. While TSFT is a gothic, Jane's signature wit infuses NA with a loving critique of the genre. Indeed, Catherine comes to discover that gothic novels are often overblown fantasies, and her innoncent belief in them almost ruins her chances at love with the witty and charming Henry Tilney. Masterpiece Theatre's adaptation was cleverly done, with mini-fantasy sequences representing the effects of so much reading on someone with a fertile imagination like Catherine's (if she could've only read TSFT, her brain would have exploded from fantasy overload). Both the book and the movie were absorbing and satisfying, event if NA is not Miss Austen's best work.
Speaking of Jane, we're almost half way through "The Complete Jane Austen". Persuasion, Northanger Abbey, and Mansfield Park have all aired and tonight we get to see "Miss Austen Regrets", which is based on Jane's own love-life, a topic that many new books are delving into since Anne Hathaway's rather wretched attempt at portraying the venorable Ms. Austen in "Becoming Jane". Unfortunately, both "Persuasion" and "Mansfield Park" were terrible adaptations. While "Persuasion" at least had some watchable actors, "Mansfield Park" suffered from bad casting (Billie Piper did try, but she's no Fanny Price), bad direction, and a hideous script. "When did Masterpiece Theatre become Crap-piece Theatre?" my friend B asked after MP aired. Hopefully "Miss Austen Regrets" will be good, and possibly somewhat historically accurate (though Tom Lefroy is not mentioned at all in the write up, and even if he wasn't her Mr. Darcy like "Becoming Jane" suggested, he was a documented part of her life. And he was played by James McAvoy, mmm). Thankfully, they're not attempting to rewrite Pride and Prejudice and are airing the Firth-Ehle miniseries version.
So that is January, a month in which I bought only one book, but read three. Next I'll be reading The Dead Fathers Club for my bookclub and then hopefully tucking into Angelica, which I was thrilled to see at the bottom of the last ARC box we got. February's a short month, but I think I can improve upon my stats from January. We'll see if I'm right.
Monday, January 21, 2008
The Sweet Far Thing
WARNING: Do not read this if you don't want to see overt references to the events in The Sweet Far Thing by Libba Bray.
I have a problem. Readers will know it well. You've just finished an absolutely fantastic book and now you need something new to read....only, nothing will compare to what you just read. You could chose a perfectly good book to follow up the great read, but it will suffer a fate worse than a fate worse than death because it pales in comparison to the book you just finished.
The reason I have this problem is Libba Bray's The Sweet Far Thing. TSFT is the third installment in her brilliant Gemma Doyle trilogy. If you haven't read either A Great and Terrible Beauty or Rebel Angels, go out and buy all three books right now. Much like one of my all time favorite books, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, the Gemma Doyle books are confections of magic set in bygone eras of England. For those of you unfamiliar with Gemma and her pals, here's a primer: Girl living in India during the reign of Queen Victoria. Girl's mother is hunted down by a mysterious magic baddie. After Mum's death, Girl gets sent to spooky finishing school in England full of catty girls and long buried secrets. Girl discovers magical realms that she and her friends can enter, but all is not as it seems in this world and danger abounds.
TSFT, the long awaited finale to Bray's trilogy, was incredibly satisfying. As the novel opens, Gemma and her friends Felicity and Ann have returned to Spence after Christmas. Having defeated the big bad in Rebel Angels, all should be peachy for the girls as they head towards their debuts, or in Ann's case, a position as a governess. But Gemma is having doubts about the success of their victory and she cannot enter the Realms, much to Felicity and Ann's dismay. Time is quickly approaching for Gemma to make an alliance with the creatures of the Realms and return the magic that she bound to herself. The East Wing, which has long lain in ruin after the fateful fire during Gemma's mother's days at Spence, is being rebuilt.
Finding a hidden doorway in the ruins of the wing, the girls are once again able to enter the Realms and see their friend Pippa. Soon, however, Gemma finds herself in a struggle for the magic, the Realms, and her sanity as The Order, The Rakshana, and the inhabitants of the Realms grapple for control. As Gemma's tolerance and ability to fend off all threats and advances starts to wear, the girls hear whispers about the Tree of All Souls hidden deep in the dangerous Winterlands. This may be the answer they need - or their very undoing.
Publisher's Weekly called TSFT "a huge work of massive ambition," and at 819 pages, it is. Bray's masterfully crafted worlds and vibrant characters live up to all your hopes and fears for Gemma & co's adieu. Structured like a five act play - Bray, a theater major, was inspired by Shakespeare's tragedies (specifically Macbeth) - TSFT unfolds like those prize balls where you unwrap and unwrap uncovering little treasures on the way to a kick ass present in the center. As the suspense builds slowly and tantalizingly, Ms. Bray's genius emerges. Much like Gemma, who senses something is rotten in the state of Denmark but is unable to act, the reader is desperate for their suspicions to be confirmed as their thumbs start pricking faster than the speed of light.
With the corset metaphors, the heartbreak, and the kick ass girls, TSFT is pitch perfect. Gemma's confusion and isolation surround the reader and the horror comes on such quiet feet that you're terrified long before the climatic battle. All the characters played their roles with charisma, but it was Felicity, who I had been suspecting would betray Gemma, who was truly dazzling. Her acidic tongue and habit of prancing around the Realms in chain mail stole my heart. Fee is far and away my favorite character (sorry, Gemma!), and I am glad I was wrong about her.
As the final installment in a trilogy, TSFT could have been the weakest link. Often, I've been disappointed by authors who start off brilliantly, but succumb to the need for a neat ending. Bray was true to her characters and world in TSFT, and the result is a strong finale that surpasses the promise of A Great and Terrible Beauty and Rebel Angels. Had she gone with a more 'traditional' ending, TSFT would not have worked so well. In fact, Bray discovered that scores of her fans were a bit upset with the resolution to Kartik and Gemma's relationship. Many wanted Gemma to have a happily ever after, but that would have ruined the entire book. I'm thrilled that there is a gorgeous trilogy with tough heroine that isn't going to end up with the guy. While she deserves some happiness after all she's gone through, the end to Gemma's story is rightfully bittersweet, much like the feeling of finishing TSFT.
Finally, I have a moment of pure book geekdom to share. Among the many people thanked in Liba Bray's acknowledgements for TSFT are two authors I've had the pleasure of meeting - Jo Knowles and Cecil Castellucci. Not only was I chuffed to actually know two people in an author's acknowledgements, but I was the one who broke the news to Ms. Knowles. Moments like that remind me how much I love my job. Now, I'm off to read Ms. Austen's Northanger Abbey in hopes Catherine Morland can help me recover from TSFT. I think that if Catherine read Libba Bray's books, she'd die of imagination overload...
I have a problem. Readers will know it well. You've just finished an absolutely fantastic book and now you need something new to read....only, nothing will compare to what you just read. You could chose a perfectly good book to follow up the great read, but it will suffer a fate worse than a fate worse than death because it pales in comparison to the book you just finished.
The reason I have this problem is Libba Bray's The Sweet Far Thing. TSFT is the third installment in her brilliant Gemma Doyle trilogy. If you haven't read either A Great and Terrible Beauty or Rebel Angels, go out and buy all three books right now. Much like one of my all time favorite books, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, the Gemma Doyle books are confections of magic set in bygone eras of England. For those of you unfamiliar with Gemma and her pals, here's a primer: Girl living in India during the reign of Queen Victoria. Girl's mother is hunted down by a mysterious magic baddie. After Mum's death, Girl gets sent to spooky finishing school in England full of catty girls and long buried secrets. Girl discovers magical realms that she and her friends can enter, but all is not as it seems in this world and danger abounds.
TSFT, the long awaited finale to Bray's trilogy, was incredibly satisfying. As the novel opens, Gemma and her friends Felicity and Ann have returned to Spence after Christmas. Having defeated the big bad in Rebel Angels, all should be peachy for the girls as they head towards their debuts, or in Ann's case, a position as a governess. But Gemma is having doubts about the success of their victory and she cannot enter the Realms, much to Felicity and Ann's dismay. Time is quickly approaching for Gemma to make an alliance with the creatures of the Realms and return the magic that she bound to herself. The East Wing, which has long lain in ruin after the fateful fire during Gemma's mother's days at Spence, is being rebuilt.
Finding a hidden doorway in the ruins of the wing, the girls are once again able to enter the Realms and see their friend Pippa. Soon, however, Gemma finds herself in a struggle for the magic, the Realms, and her sanity as The Order, The Rakshana, and the inhabitants of the Realms grapple for control. As Gemma's tolerance and ability to fend off all threats and advances starts to wear, the girls hear whispers about the Tree of All Souls hidden deep in the dangerous Winterlands. This may be the answer they need - or their very undoing.
Publisher's Weekly called TSFT "a huge work of massive ambition," and at 819 pages, it is. Bray's masterfully crafted worlds and vibrant characters live up to all your hopes and fears for Gemma & co's adieu. Structured like a five act play - Bray, a theater major, was inspired by Shakespeare's tragedies (specifically Macbeth) - TSFT unfolds like those prize balls where you unwrap and unwrap uncovering little treasures on the way to a kick ass present in the center. As the suspense builds slowly and tantalizingly, Ms. Bray's genius emerges. Much like Gemma, who senses something is rotten in the state of Denmark but is unable to act, the reader is desperate for their suspicions to be confirmed as their thumbs start pricking faster than the speed of light.
With the corset metaphors, the heartbreak, and the kick ass girls, TSFT is pitch perfect. Gemma's confusion and isolation surround the reader and the horror comes on such quiet feet that you're terrified long before the climatic battle. All the characters played their roles with charisma, but it was Felicity, who I had been suspecting would betray Gemma, who was truly dazzling. Her acidic tongue and habit of prancing around the Realms in chain mail stole my heart. Fee is far and away my favorite character (sorry, Gemma!), and I am glad I was wrong about her.
As the final installment in a trilogy, TSFT could have been the weakest link. Often, I've been disappointed by authors who start off brilliantly, but succumb to the need for a neat ending. Bray was true to her characters and world in TSFT, and the result is a strong finale that surpasses the promise of A Great and Terrible Beauty and Rebel Angels. Had she gone with a more 'traditional' ending, TSFT would not have worked so well. In fact, Bray discovered that scores of her fans were a bit upset with the resolution to Kartik and Gemma's relationship. Many wanted Gemma to have a happily ever after, but that would have ruined the entire book. I'm thrilled that there is a gorgeous trilogy with tough heroine that isn't going to end up with the guy. While she deserves some happiness after all she's gone through, the end to Gemma's story is rightfully bittersweet, much like the feeling of finishing TSFT.
Finally, I have a moment of pure book geekdom to share. Among the many people thanked in Liba Bray's acknowledgements for TSFT are two authors I've had the pleasure of meeting - Jo Knowles and Cecil Castellucci. Not only was I chuffed to actually know two people in an author's acknowledgements, but I was the one who broke the news to Ms. Knowles. Moments like that remind me how much I love my job. Now, I'm off to read Ms. Austen's Northanger Abbey in hopes Catherine Morland can help me recover from TSFT. I think that if Catherine read Libba Bray's books, she'd die of imagination overload...
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
New Year, New Whatever...
A few months ago, I read Nick Hornby’s Polysyllabic Spree. A collection of essays Hornby wrote for his column in the Believer, TPS is a year in books. The premise, that Hornby - best known for his lad-lit titles About a Boy and High Fidelity - as an author and avid reader, has more books than he can possibly read. Each month he purchases heaps of books and only reads a few. Included in Hornby’s genial ramblings about literature, life, and the pursuit of more bookshelves are some gleefully brilliant witticisms like his realization that “if I’ve forgotten everything I’ve ever read then I can read some of my favorite books again as if for the first time,” and his demi-rant about the spare school of style which he asserts is an attempt to make writing a more masculine (and thus proper-er) job. All in all, TPS is more a collection of essays than a book. Lacking an overall coherency beyond the stated premise of man vs. monthly flow of books, it did not cover the theme I had hoped for - what does one learn from all this?
At the risk of committing one of the most egregious sins in writing (or at least journalism), I need to move on from Hornby before I do indeed bury the lead. TPS inspired me. I, too, suffer from Hornby’s particular strain of bibliophilia. Despite the fact that my bookshelves are dangerously overloaded and I have little time to read, I cannot stop purchasing books. I buy loads and loads, often at the risk of my bank account balance or my brain cells (this latter part comes into play in used bookstores and library sales where my oddly strictured willingness to read almost anything leads me to purchase trashy titles due to their relatively low cost). As the author events manager for a large bookstore in Boston, I’m constantly thinking about books and getting free advance copies of new titles. Combine these facts with the thought that had been rolling around in my head for a while that I’d like to try my hand at book reviewing (because who wouldn’t want to get paid to read books and then say what they thought about them?) and the end result was my desire for a book commentating blog.
What is book commentating? I won’t call myself a reviewer. Reviewers have two rules that I am willfully going to break in this blog because they do not suit my purposes: (1) Being Current - You can’t review a book that was published six months ago, let alone six years ago, and expect to remain a reviewer. They’re supposed to write about the newly published, newly released, or newly opened so that everyone else can stay home and form opinions from what the reviewer tells them so they can save time rather than risk that trial (and possible error) themselves; and (2) Remembering The Audience - Reviewers have to keep in mind that people will read what they say and possibly send them hate mail. Actually, they have a responsibility to be interesting and relevant to their audience. I could care less about that since this blog is about me and what I read. I don’t need to sell newspapers with this blog, and I won’t lose my day job if I don’t have any readers. Book commentating then, is reading a book and then reporting on said book (hm, sounds a lot like those horrid book reports we all used to do in school). With my qualifications, and just enough vanity to think what I have to say matters, this blog should be fun for me and hopefully entertaining for you, dear reader.
As this is the first of the new year, and invariably at this time I start thinking reading resolutions, it might be a good idea to set my intentions to paper, so to speak. Last year, I said I wanted to read more non-fiction and more classics. I succeeded with the non-fiction (although non-fiction was still a fraction of what I read compared to fiction), but failed with the classics (I never did get past the first page of Wives and Daughters, and I think that was the only classic attempted). Similarly this year I hope to broaden my book knowledge through three goals: (1) to read a better variety - non-fiction, classics, perhaps the odd book I’d turned up my nose at before; (2) to give new books a chance (but not to the point of forcing myself to read something dreadful, there is after all a finite amount of reading time for me so why waste it on anything less than fabulous?); and (3) to think about what I’ve read and write about it here.
So, with that said, on to the next…
(Many thanks to R for titling this blog. L, I loved your idea too, but I think you need to write that one!)
At the risk of committing one of the most egregious sins in writing (or at least journalism), I need to move on from Hornby before I do indeed bury the lead. TPS inspired me. I, too, suffer from Hornby’s particular strain of bibliophilia. Despite the fact that my bookshelves are dangerously overloaded and I have little time to read, I cannot stop purchasing books. I buy loads and loads, often at the risk of my bank account balance or my brain cells (this latter part comes into play in used bookstores and library sales where my oddly strictured willingness to read almost anything leads me to purchase trashy titles due to their relatively low cost). As the author events manager for a large bookstore in Boston, I’m constantly thinking about books and getting free advance copies of new titles. Combine these facts with the thought that had been rolling around in my head for a while that I’d like to try my hand at book reviewing (because who wouldn’t want to get paid to read books and then say what they thought about them?) and the end result was my desire for a book commentating blog.
What is book commentating? I won’t call myself a reviewer. Reviewers have two rules that I am willfully going to break in this blog because they do not suit my purposes: (1) Being Current - You can’t review a book that was published six months ago, let alone six years ago, and expect to remain a reviewer. They’re supposed to write about the newly published, newly released, or newly opened so that everyone else can stay home and form opinions from what the reviewer tells them so they can save time rather than risk that trial (and possible error) themselves; and (2) Remembering The Audience - Reviewers have to keep in mind that people will read what they say and possibly send them hate mail. Actually, they have a responsibility to be interesting and relevant to their audience. I could care less about that since this blog is about me and what I read. I don’t need to sell newspapers with this blog, and I won’t lose my day job if I don’t have any readers. Book commentating then, is reading a book and then reporting on said book (hm, sounds a lot like those horrid book reports we all used to do in school). With my qualifications, and just enough vanity to think what I have to say matters, this blog should be fun for me and hopefully entertaining for you, dear reader.
As this is the first of the new year, and invariably at this time I start thinking reading resolutions, it might be a good idea to set my intentions to paper, so to speak. Last year, I said I wanted to read more non-fiction and more classics. I succeeded with the non-fiction (although non-fiction was still a fraction of what I read compared to fiction), but failed with the classics (I never did get past the first page of Wives and Daughters, and I think that was the only classic attempted). Similarly this year I hope to broaden my book knowledge through three goals: (1) to read a better variety - non-fiction, classics, perhaps the odd book I’d turned up my nose at before; (2) to give new books a chance (but not to the point of forcing myself to read something dreadful, there is after all a finite amount of reading time for me so why waste it on anything less than fabulous?); and (3) to think about what I’ve read and write about it here.
So, with that said, on to the next…
(Many thanks to R for titling this blog. L, I loved your idea too, but I think you need to write that one!)
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