Showing posts with label 1920s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1920s. Show all posts

Saturday, June 02, 2012

more quick thoughts on more recent reads

The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree
by Susan Wittig Albert


Crime-solving highjinks set against the backdrop of Depression-era south.

The first in a series of cozy mysteries set in the early 1930s. The sleuths are members of Darling, Alabama's garden club. The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree features murder, bank fraud, a prison break, a haunting, twelve garden club ladies, and two cucumber trees. That's quite a bit to pack into one novel, but Albert juggles everything admirably. I enjoyed The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree and would be interested in continuing on with the series.

A Hope Undaunted by Julie Lessman

Never judge a book by its cover.

If I had realized that A Hope Undaunted was an inspirational romance (i.e. Christian romantic fiction) I would not have checked it out. I did read it the entire novel because I needed to find out whether the feisty young women's rights advocate would be convinced of the importance of unquestioningly obeying her father and (future) husband. I found it overbearing.

The Lace Reader by Brunonia Barry

Self-published novel turned NY Times bestseller.

Set primarily in Salem, Massachusetts, and its environs, The Lace Reader examines Salem's legacy in an interesting way at a time when witchcraft good PR not a crime. Its unreliable narrator is a professed liar, but it is unclear just how much of her story is fiction for the majority of the novel. Compelling reading.

The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh

A contemporary fictional meditation on the Victorian language of flowers.

I've been intrigued with the language of flowers since I first learned about it years ago. The problem with floriography is that the meanings of the flowers vary from source to source and the sentiments attributed to a particular bloom can be contradictory. One of the things that I liked most about Diffenbaugh's novel, The Language of Flowers, was the author's inclusion as an addendum of the floriography dictionary developed by her protagonist (and another character) during the course of the novel. The novel itself wasn't quite what I expected it (oh how the protagonist drove me to distraction at times with her inability to trust), but I appreciated it nonetheless.

Monday, February 07, 2011

Bright Young Things

Bright Young Things by Anna Godbersen

The year is 1929. New York is ruled by the Bright Young Things: flappers and socialites seeking thrills and chasing dreams in the anything-goes era of the Roaring Twenties.

I requested Bright Young Things from the library after I read this article. I figured it was worth a shot. I legitimately enjoyed reading The Great Gatsby in high school and I can't remember the last time I read a book set in 1920s New York.

I read Bright Young Things over the weekend. It was a quick read and while it was enjoyable, I don't know that I'll continue with the series.

Cordelia, the novel's primary protagonist, sometimes made decisions that made absolutely no sense to me and I'm not even sure that the decisions were necessarily in character for her. Some of them furthered the story, but for example, the book begins with Cordelia's wedding day (the aunt who raised Cordelia found out she'd had sex with her boyfriend John and forces them to get married; John is not unhappy about this and it appears that he genuinely loves her). After the wedding Cordelia and her best friend Letty run away to New York. Not days or weeks after the wedding, but hours. They'd be wanting to do this for years and had been planning and saving money.

I have to say that I really don't understand why the girls don't they leave before the wedding. There was time enough for Cordelia to make a wedding dress so it wasn't a complete rush job. While Cordelia doesn't want the life being married in small town Ohio would bring her, she does care for John. So, why would she go through with the wedding ceremony only to abandon him? It seems unnecessarily cruel.