book clubbing in May, part 2

The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins

I'd never heard about The Woman in White until its title appeared in the voting list for my online book club. I was quite intrigued when I learned that The Woman in White is generally considered the first English sensation novel. I was also extremely pleased to find that Librivox offers an audio version of the novel in their catalog.

I really enjoyed the book despite its length (The Woman in White is a behemoth). I was the discussion leader for May and I overdid it a bit with the questions (18 in total) after finding a few different discussion guides (1, 2, 3).

Just a few comments on the novel (things I can write about without including spoilers):

The Woman in White was first published as a serial so it makes sense that it reads a bit like a television show. There are lots of twists and turns in the plot, no real red herrings, but definitely some events I never saw coming.

I had a really difficult time relating to Laura who I thought was far too passive to be considered the heroine - things happen to her, but she rarely does anything to shape events (also, she's never a narrator). Marian on the other hand is an active participant in both the story and the events that unfold within it.

Anne (as titular character) not being a bigger part of the story was one of my disappointments about the book. Then again, now that I think about it, the titular character is the "woman in white" and Laura fills that role for at least part of the narrative so maybe that complaint is really a moot point.

I really liked the fact that the story was told from multiple viewpoints and diverse narrators. This technique allows readers to see the motivations of individual characters without the use of an omniscient narrator.

recent reading

I haven't felt motivated to post much on the blog recently because I've been having bad luck with my reading selections. There are lots of books that I've started and not finished. Some I've intentionally given up others are simply languishing partially read in one area of the house or other. Of the books I have finished it seems like I've felt decidedly ambivalent about the majority of them.

Last week I decided that I needed a bit of a pick-me-up so I grabbed my copy of The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde off the shelf. The Eyre Affair is the first book in the Thursday Next series, which is one of my favorites.

With this post I may be speaking too soon, but it does seem like with that reread my reading luck has reversed. I genuinely enjoyed reading my latest Library Journal review assignment, A Novel Bookstore. When I finished that book sooner than expected while out of town and away from my book collection I picked up a copy of Stephenie Meyer's The Host. I'm really enjoying The Host. It's much better than the Twilight books.

weekly reading recap

This week I finished reading A Reliable Wife by Robert Goolrick (see post).

I'm actively reading:

• Chef by Jaspreet Singh
• Little Women by Louisa May Alcott (in preparation for rereading March for my online book club)

I also have quite a few others books in progress including: If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things, Knitlit (Too), and Saint Julian.

A Reliable Wife

A Reliable Wife by Robert Goolrick

Rural Wisconsin, 1907. In the bitter cold, Ralph Truitt, a successful businessman, stands alone on a train platform waiting for the woman who answered his newspaper advertisement for a reliable wife. But when Catherine Land steps off the train from Chicago, she's not the simple, honest woman that Ralph is expecting. She is both complex and devious, haunted by a terrible past and motivated by greed. Her plan is simple: she will win this man's devotion, and then, ever so slowly, she will poison him and leave Wisconsin a wealthy widow. What she has not counted on, though, is that Truitt — a passionate man with his own dark secrets — has plans of his own for his new wife. Isolated on a remote estate and imprisoned by relentless snow, the story of Ralph and Catherine unfolds in unimaginable ways.

I had mixed feelings about this book. I really liked that the author built such rich backstories for his characters, but felt that there was far too much emphasis on sex in A Reliable Wife (I can see lust as a driving motivation for some individuals, but not for so many of the characters in the novel). I didn't find either of the protagonists particularly sympathetic, but I did want to keep reading to find out what would happen to them.

dandelions

Earlier this week I heard a segment on NPR about the New York Botanical Garden's new exhibition, Emily Dickinson's Garden: The Poetry of Flowers. (the story)

The man who designed the garden for the exhibit spoke about including dandelions, something that they'd never done before. Apparently dandelions were among Dickinson's favorite flowers and the bloom to which she most likened herself.

book clubbing in May

The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane by Katherine Howe

The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane was one of the books I was most looking forward to reading this book club cycle. I like historical fiction and tend to enjoy books that have both a contemporary and historical storyline. Witchcraft during the Colonial period is something that's fascinated me since elementary school when I read The Witch of Blackbird Pond and Tituba of Salem Village. I'd heard lots of good things about Physick Book so I was absolutely sure that I'd love it. Unfortunately I was disappointed in it. While I found it to be a quick and compelling read, I was frustrated by gaps in the plot and (more than anything else) how the author handled the contemporary protagonist. I can't get into more detail without including spoilers, but I felt like the author copped out. Physick Book had so much potential and the fact that it didn't live up to that potential was my biggest disappointment.

We did, however, have a really great discussion at book club. I-liked-the-book-but... seemed to be the general consensus of the book clubbers (though, of course, the degree of like varied from person to person). Though it is interesting to note that those who listed to the audio book seemed to have a better impression of the novel that those who read paper or e-book copies.

We discussed (among other things):

• the way the author portrays libraries and librarians in the novel
• the relationship between Connie and her mother
• whether we found Connie to be a sympathetic character or not (as well as strange aspects of her character)
• the lack of significant depth to the historical narratives and the disconnect between that lack of depth and the fact that the author is a scholar of Colonial New England
• how we felt the author's editor failed her
• the disjointedness of the historical narratives
• the actions of some of individual characters
• how much we'd guessed or suspected about the story's ending as we were reading the novel
• why the contemporary portion of the novel was set in 1991 (and the anachronisms we noticed)

Physick Book is Howe's first book. I'll be interested to see how she develops as a writer.

The Ice Queen

The Ice Queen by Alice Hoffman

I needed something to read yesterday when none of the books I had in progress seemed at all appealing. I grabbed The Ice Queen and decided to give it a try. That I read the entire book yesterday is probably sufficient evidence that it fit the bill.

The novel's narrator is someone who knows all too well that wishes do come true. As an eight-year-old in a fit of pique she wishes she'd never see her mother again; her mother is killed in a car accident that same night. She lives her entire life under the specter of her role in her mother's death. As an adult she distances herself from everyone, becoming an ice queen.

Though she should know better than to make idle wishes she one day without thinking she wished lightning would strike her. Not long after, it happens. While the strike doesn't kill her, it does give her a new lease on life. However it is only after months of physical therapy and depressed wallowing that the protagonist begins slowly to melt her frozen core.

The Ice Queen is concerned with death, fairy tales, the science and inexplicable nature of lightning, and what it means to care for someone. It's a relatively quick read and while the protagonist is not necessarily a sympathetic character as a reader I wanted to find out what would happen to her. The ending wasn't what I expected, but it was satisfying nonetheless.

weekly reading recap

This week I finished reading:

• Mapping the Edge by Sarah Dunant (see post)
• The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane by Katherine Howe, May's selection for the library book club
• The Ice Queen by Alice Hoffman (just last night; post to come)
• The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins, May's selection for the online bookclub (the Librivox version)

I also started and gave up on Tathea by Anne Perry after a hundred and fifty pages or so.

I'm currently reading:

• Chef by Jaspreet Singh (a book I received through the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program)
• Saint Julian by Walter Wangerin, Jr.

watching Book TV

Russell is a big fan of Book TV (a program that airs on C-SPAN2 on the weekends). I don't always watch with him as the series focus is almost always non-fiction (and more often than not concerned by politics and/or history). Sometimes, though, I do watch.

This morning one of the topics is what sounds like a really interesting book:
The World Turned Upside Down: The Global Battle Over God, Truth and Power by Melanie Phillips.

Here's the program blurb:
London's Daily Mail columnist explains how she believes the Western world has fallen into a soft totalitarianism by distorting truths, renewing hatred of Jews, and allowing rationality and science to dominate over spirituality and faith. The cult of Barack Obama, she says, is the greatest example of soft totalitarianism in the U.S. The event is at American Enterprise Institute in Washington.

The blurb makes it sound like Phillips is essentially polemical, but listening to her speak, she's not.
Her main concern seems to be with objective truth and with the fact that the collective opinion in the West on the topics she addresses in the book (among them global warming) is not based on provable facts. More significantly her concern is that debate on any of these topics is suppressed, that any difference of opinion ends in name-calling and demonization.

In any case, it sounds like The World Turned Upside Down would be a fascinating, thought-provoking read. We'll try to get our hands on a copy.

Mapping the Edge

I finished this book earlier this week, but being under the weather couldn't see attempting to pull my thoughts about it together. I'm still not particularly coherent, but I figure I might as well give it a go anyway.

Mapping the Edge by Sarah Dunant

One of the reviews of Mapping the Edge describes it as "like a European film--cool, highly sexual, creating a dazzling surface of translucence." Another said "but the subtext of the novel--how loyalties are strained, how relationships change--is every bit as important as the surface excitements".¹ Both are true and they really give readers an idea of what the book is like.

Anna takes a spur-of-the-moment trip to Italy and doesn't return on the day she's expected back. Mapping the Edge, the story of Anna's disappearance, is told through three different storylines. The first is that of those left behind: Anna's two best friends and her young daughter. The second storyline is one possible version of the events that happen in Italy: Anna is abducted on her way to the airport for her return flight and is being held against her will by a mentally-disturbed man. The third is an alternate version: Anna's married lover convinces her to stay on in Italy; she isn't aware that her delay is cause for concern.

At first I was quite put off by the two possible "away" narratives told simultaneously even though I understood what Dunant was trying to do. As I settled into the book, the jumps were less problematic and I started to get invested in Anna and her possible futures. Of course at the end of Mapping the Edge we don't know if either of the away-narratives were true (very foreign-movie like).

1. these are from the back-cover blurbs of my (British) edition), credited to Observer and Literary Review respectively.

hiding in the bookshelves #3

I found the following book in one of the book cases in the bedroom. (for an explanation of this hiding-in-the-bookshelves feature, see this post)

Saint Julian by Walter Wangerin, Jr.

This haunting medieval novella, set somewhat ambiguously in the period of the Crusades, tells the story of Julian the Hospitaller, drawn from ancient legend. Revered for his famous devotion to the church, Julian must hide a violent nature that leads him to love the hunt and the kill above all. Saint Julian follows the inexorable descent of this golden-boy hero from favored son of nobility to the depths of beggardom, and eventual sainthood.
Rich with fascinating historical detail and deft religious metaphor, this story is powerfully gripping and lingers long after the read. Wangerin's juxtaposition of the forces of tremendous privilege and duty with those of obsession and fate make for storytelling at its finest. His language is dark, spare, and vivid — as sure and sharp as the marksmanship of Julian the obsessed hunter.
Julian's terrible fate is inescapable — yet it is only when he can sink no further that the fantastical possibility of his transformation breaks through like a thunderbolt to gather up his broken life. Prophetic and lyrical, Saint Julian will transport readers to a distant time filled with meaning for our own.

I remember picking this book up at a local 70%-off-everything bookstore. I like historical fiction and have a healthy curiosity about the lives of the saints so it seemed like a good book for me. I started reading it quite a while ago, but abandoned it to the book case because I had a hard time getting into it. I should probably give it another try.

weekly reading recap

Strangely enough I didn't finish a single book this week, though I did post about The Poetry of Rilke, translated and edited by Edward Snow (see post).

I'm currently reading:

• Chef by Jaspreet Singh (a book I received through the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program)
• Mapping the Edge by Sarah Dunant
• The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins, May's selection for the online bookclub (actually I'm listening to the Librivox version)

hiding in the bookshelves #2

I found the following book in one of the book cases in the bedroom. (for an explanation of this hiding-in-the-bookshelves feature, see this post)

I really like Sarah Dunant. I first discovered her when I bought The Birth of Venus on a whim. I loved it and set out to pick up her other books. So far I've read In the Company of the Courtesan (another historical fiction, not as good as The Birth of Venus) and the Hannah Wolfe mysteries (Birth Marks, Fatlands, and Under My Skin).

Mapping the Edge by Sarah Dunant

People go missing every day. They walk out of their front doors and out of their lives into the silence of cold statistics. For those left behind it is the cruelest of long good-byes.
Anna, a self-sufficient and reliable single mother, packs her bags one day for a short vacation to Italy. She leaves her beloved six-year-old daughter, Lily, at home in London with good friends. But when Anna doesn't return, everyone begins to make excuses until the likelihood that she might not come back becomes chillingly clear. And the people who thought they knew Anna best realize they don't know her at all. How could she leave her daughter? Why doesn't she call? Is she enjoying a romantic tryst with a secret lover? Or has she been abducted or even killed by a disturbed stranger?
Did that person you loved so much and thought you knew so well did they simply choose to go and not come back? Or did someone do the choosing for them?
Dunant, a masterly British suspense writer, skillfully interweaves parallel narratives that are stretched taut with tension even as they raise difficult questions about motherhood, friendship, and accountability. In this compelling hybrid of sophisticated crime writing and modern women's fiction, Dunant challenges and unnerves us as she redefines the boundaries of the psychological thriller.

This one sounded intrigued so I started reading it this weekend. I have to admit that I was put off by the two possible storylines told simultaneously, but I decided to stick it out.

Here's a quote that struck me: "She had already begun to feel somewhat dissatisfied with her life, as if the inexorable march of feminism demanded that she always be better or braver than she was, not allowing her to rest or take pleasure from what had been achieved" (115).

The Poetry of Rilke

For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been entrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation.¹

The above is one of my favorite quotes. It's from Rainer Maire Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet.

I wasn't sure what book to use for the student services blog's book of the month for May, but my decision was made for me when a second review of the new Rilke collection showed up in my inbox.

The Poetry of Rilke, translated and edited by Edward Snow

One of the 20th century's most significant lyric poets, Rainer Marie Rilke was a modernist who never abandoned traditional modes. "Though Rilke was marginal in his own time, his lyrical waywardness is prized in our post-Romantic one; praised by only a small group of connoisseurs when he was writing, his poetry is now beloved" (Ange Mlinko, The Nation).

With The Poetry of Rilke Edward Snow offers a wonderfully substantive bilingual edition of Rilke's poetry to American audiences.

Snow is described by Craig Morgan Teicher (Virginia Quarterly Review) as "Rilke's best and most important ambassador to American readers." I think it quite possible, though, that Lady Gaga, with her Rilke-quote tattoo, may take over this role at least with regard to American youth.

Including more than two hundred and fifty poems, The Poetry of Rilke provides a thorough overview of the poet's oeuvre. It also contains complete translations of Sonnets to Orpheus and the Duino Elegies, Rilke's most significant work. The translations are printed side by side with the German originals for easy reference.

Regular readers of this blog will have probably surmised that I'm not a huge fan of poetry. I rarely post about it. It's not that I dislike poetry, but more that I'm not drawn to it the way I'm drawn to fiction. For me individual poems can be revelatory, but in many cases they feel like too much work.

In any case, I thought it might be nice to share one of the poems from The Poetry of Rilke. I didn't want to chose anything from the Duino Elegies or Sonnets to Orpheus, but rather a stand-alone poem.

Blue Hydrangea

These leaves are like the last green
in the paint pots—dried up, dull, and rough,
behind the flowered umbels² whose blue
is not their own, but mirrored from afar.

They reflect it tear-stained, vaguely,
as if deep down they hoped to lose it;
and as with old blue writing paper
there’s yellow in them, violet and gray;

Washed out as on a child’s pinafore,
things that are finished with, no longer worn:
the way one feels a small life’s brevity.

But suddenly emotion seems to flare
In one of the umbels, and one sees
A moving blue as it takes joy in green. (171)

I love hydrangeas (Hortensie in German, isn't that pretty?). Reading this I'm reminded of hydrangeas at the end of the summer.

1. The translation above is one I got online and tweaked a bit. "Liebhaben von Mensch zu Mensch: das is vielleicht das Schwerste, was uns aufgegeben ist, das Aeusserste, die letze Probe und Pruefung, die Arbeit, fuer die alle andere Arbeit nur Vorberietung ist" (14 May 1904 letter to Kappus).
2. umbel: a cluster of flowers with stalks of nearly equal length that spring from about the same point, like the ribs of an umbrella (umbel, umbrella: same root word)

The Magic Toyshop

The Magic Toyshop by Angela Carter

This novel was languishing on one of my bookshelves and I featured it last week in my first hiding-in-the-bookshelves post. It's a short book and I was able to read it over the weekend. The copy I have proudly boasts "now a spellbinding film" and I have to say I really have no idea how The Magic Toyshop would come off as a film and I can't imagine one that stayed true to the story being described as spellbinding. Yes, some scenes could be seen as spellbinding, but darkness pervades the novel. For example, the puppets in their intricacy and beauty could be magical, but they are so closely associated with Uncle Philip and his abusiveness that at least to me they are horribly tarnished.

I didn't particularly like The Magic Toyshop. It's not that The Magic Toyshop is poorly written or anything like that, it's just that I couldn't really appreciate it given my mood.

weekly reading recap

This week I finished:

• The Magic Toyshop by Angela Carter (post to come)
• The Memory Thief by Rachel Keener (see post)
• The Postmistress by Sarah Blake (see post)

I also posted about Rumspringa by Tom Shachtman (see post) and started a new feature for the blog, hiding in the bookshelves. Check out the first post.

I'm currently reading:

• The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins, May's selection for the online bookclub (actually I'm listening to the Librivox version)

The Memory Thief and some extra book clubbing

I know I mentioned the Rochester, NY bookcrossing meetup in a recent post. It's a group that meets monthly (though I only go every-other month when the meeting is on a weekend since it's a bit of a drive for me) to eat lunch, chat, and swap books. This month's meetup was a bit different, though, as we'd won an author chat after one of the members had registered the group with Reading Group Guides. The chat was with Rachel Keener and they sent us all copies of her latest novel, The Memory Thief, to read in preparation.

Because of a number of things beyond my control, I managed to arrive just in time to miss the actual chat (which was conducted over the phone). I did get a chance to talk to the group members about The Memory Thief and to hear their thoughts on the author and what she'd shared with them.

The Memory Thief by Rachel Keener

The Memory Thief has two protagonists. Hannah, the daughter of Christian fundamentalist missionaries, and Angel, the daughter of a "trailer trash" couple. On the surface the two girls have nothing in common. Interestingly enough, Keener told the group that The Memory Thief was supposed to be Hannah's story, but that Angel wanted to take it over.

At times I found both girls to be sympathetic and at others I felt I couldn't relate to them at all. Jumping between the two different narratives was disconcerting. I find this particular response particularly interesting because usually I have no problem with that kind of construction. I think part of my problem may have been with the fact that occasionally there were significant breaks in the timelines of one character or other, ones that left gaping holes.

I'm not sure what else to write about The Memory Thief. It's not that I don't have things to say, but so much of what I'd like to comment on would necessitate revealing spoiler-type information.

hiding in the bookshelves #1

In lieu of the friday find feature I've been doing off and on I thought it might be interesting to instead feature books that we have collecting dust around the house. This could be useful on a number of different levels. It'll help me rediscover what I already have and it will hopefully inspire me to either read or release bookcrossing-style (or read and release) the books I feature right away.

So, without further ado, the first book I've selected, this one from a bookcase dedicated to bookcrossing books I've picked up...

The Magic Toyshop by Angela Carter

A startling tale of the redemptive power of physical and emotional love.
One night Melanie walks through the garden in her mother's wedding dress. The next morning her world is shattered. Forced to leave the comfortable home of her childhood, she is sent to London to live with relatives she has never met: Aunt Margaret, beautiful and speechless, and her brothers, Francie, whose graceful music belies his clumsy nature, and the volatile Finn, who kisses Melanie in the ruins of the pleasure gardens. And brooding Unlce Philip loves only the life-sized wooden puppets he creates in his toyshop. This classic gothic novel established Angela Carter as one of our most imaginative writers and augurs the themes of her later creative work.

The novel's opening line:
"The summer she was fifteen, Melanie discovered she was made of flesh and blood."

Ok, I think this one is definitely worth a read especially considering that I remember it coming highly recommended.

The Postmistress

The Postmistress by Sarah Blake

The Postmistress follows a number of different American characters both at home and abroad during WWII, among them a doctor, a war correspondent, and of course a postmistress.

One of the ladies who attends the Rochester, NY bookcrossing meetup loaned me The Postmistress in March, telling me that I'd love it and that I should read it and return it to her when I saw her again in May. Because I'd just finished Exodus by Leon Uris (see post) I didn't want to read The Postmistress right away.

The problem with getting a book highly recommended is that one tends to have quite high expectations. It's much more difficult to like a book that one expects to love but doesn't than it is to like a book that one comes to neutrally.

In any case, The Postmistress isn't a bad book, but I wasn't crazy about it. I expected to find The Postmistress compelling (and compelling in a way that only tragic, WWII books can be), but I didn't. I wasn't particularly invested in the characters despite the fact that most were sympathetic.

bookclubbing in April (2 of 2)

Second selection for my online bookclub...

Rumspringa: To Be or Not to Be Amish by Tom Shachtman

Rumspringa is a book that Tom Shactman wrote following his work on the documentary Devil's Playground. I haven't seen the documentary yet, but it seems like Rumspringa has a much broader focus.

I definitely think that Schachtman strays a bit too far from the subject of rumspringa. I found the book fascinating and I'm glad that through it I was able to learn more about Amish culture in general, but it wasn't really what I expected. To some extent, though, maybe he really does stay on topic. The subtitle is "to be or not to be Amish" and all of the things he writes about (church governance, rates of abuse, etc) may actually play into an individual's decision of whether or not to formally join the church.

To some extent Rumspringa was eye-opening. What really surprised me was how many of the Amish work outside the community (and I don't mean in the tourist shops/restaurants), people who stay in the church but work in factories. I knew that some of them had to work outside the home/farm, but I guess I expected that they'd be working in places that operated under the restrictions the must follow at home. I suppose this ties into the way that non-Amish Americans idealize the Amish. I think non-Amish, who don't live in areas with Amish, think that the Amish are much more isolated than they actually are.

The other thing I wasn't really aware of was that there were different rules for people living in different areas/districts. I guess I assumed that all Old Order would follow the same set of rules, and the less strict orders would each have their own consistent set of rules. I can only imagine how frustrating it would be to know that your cousin who lives in the next county can use some tool that you yourself were reprimanded for owning.

I found Schachtman's narrative style problematic. Though he makes great use of personal stories, they are not told chronologically or all at one. Rumspringa is organized topically and bits and pieces of the stories are used when they help illustrate a point the author is trying to make about the topic at hand. Every time Schachtman wanted to discuss one of the characters again he had to remind us who that person was. Because we only saw bits and pieces of these individuals' lives spread out over the various chapters I found it hard to really connect with any one of them. And I imagine that if you read the book over the course of a longish period of time you would have quite a bit of difficulty remembering individual characters. I also found myself wanting to skim when Schachtman spent too much time on the non-personal story parts.

One final comment: One of the ladies in my other book club has read quite a lot about the Amish. I talked to her a bit about Amish and the way they are portrayed in fiction and I found something that she said very interesting. She reads quite a bit of Christian fiction and one of the things that she said was that in many of the books published by the main Christian publishers the protagonist becomes involved with a Mennonite (female character meets and Mennonite man then lives happily ever after with him within a Mennonite community). She thinks that the Christian publishers, who will use Amish settings because they draw in readers, see the Amish faith as not exactly the brand of Christianity that they want to promote to their readers and that the Mennonite faith is a more acceptable compromise. Interesting.

weekly reading recap

This week I finished Innocent Traitor by Alison Weir (see post).

I also posted about a few other books:

• The Calligrapher's Daughter by Eugenia Kim (see post)
• Sock Innovation by Cookie A. (see post)
• Under the Sabers by Tanya Biank (see post)

I'm currently reading:

• The Postmistress by Sarah Blake
• The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins, May's selection for the online bookclub
  actually I'm listening to the Librivox version

some historical fiction

The Calligrapher's Daughter by Eugenia Kim

The Calligrapher's Daughter is at once the story of the titular character and the story of a nation. Taking place between 1915 and 1945, the novel chronicles the end of the Joseon dynasty and Japan's occupation of Korea.
Kim focuses on this tumultuous period addressing issues of nationalism and the tension between traditionalism and modernity both in the national arena and as they play out on a smaller scale within the protagonist's family.

While the novel has a compelling opening line--"I learned I had no name on the same day I learned fear"--I had to start The Calligrapher's Daughter on a couple of different occasions before I was able to get into it. Once I became invested in the protagonist and her story it wasn't hard to keep going, but it took me a while to get to that point.

Reading The Calligrapher's Daughter I realized just how little I know of Korean history (now I understand the profusion of Korean Methodist churches in the US). As a window into an unknown country and culture The Calligrapher's Daughter was fascinating. I'm not sure, though, whether I can say that I liked the novel. Much of what happens during the course of its story is heart-breaking, but I didn't have a problem with that. There were other things that I found problematic. At times I had difficulty understanding the characters' motivations (for example why on earth would the protagonist's husband go abroad without her when her visa was denied?). I also found the reunion at the novel's end unrealistic. Yes, I realize that it could be explained by a happy accident of fate, but it read much more like a plot device.

All that being said, I think my mom will really like The Calligrapher's Daughter so I plan to give it to her next time I see her.


Innocent Traitor: A Novel of Lady Jane Grey by Alison Weir

Innocent Traitor, the first novel written by historian Alison Weir, chronicles the life of Lady Jane Grey from birth to death. While Jane is the protagonist, Innocent Traitor is narrated in turns by a number of different individuals including Jane's parents, her governess, Katherine Parr (Henry VIII's last wife), Mary I, and John Dudley.

Throughout the novel Jane is painted as a profoundly sympathetic character whose only guilt was in the accident of her birth. Weir brings the Tudor period alive, deftly portraying all the tensions of the period and the motivations of the many players involved in the rise and fall of Queen Jane.

As I was reading the final chapters of the novel I had a strange sense that I'd read it before. I'm assuming that's because I must have read some other novel in which the protagonist was executed under similar circumstances (or maybe I've even read another account of Jane Grey that isn't coming to mind).

Sock Innovation

Sock Innovation: Knitting Techniques & Patterns for One-Of-A-Kind Socks by Cookie A.

Unconventional, rule-breaking socks are part and parcel in this unique guide to sock knitting that includes 15 new sock patterns. The skills of the average sock knitter are increased through design exploration and advanced stitch manipulation, treating the sock as a knitted canvas where elements are strategically and intentionally placed. New designs of floral lace patterns, angular geometric shapes, and unusual cables are presented along with detailed instructions on modifications to suit needs and aesthetics. The incredible range of style and complexity in this guide runs from sweet and simple to delightfully imaginative.

I received this book for my birthday last fall and while there were a number of patterns in it that I knew I wanted to knit, I've only just now gotten around to trying any of them. For my first Sock Innovation project I decided to go with the simple, yet elegant design that is probably my favorite pattern from the book, Kai-Mei (pages 129-133).

I'm really pleased with the results.

Kai-Mei was inspired by a Renaissance woman. It features a lace panel that begins on one side of the heel flap and crosses diagonally across the top of the foot. Starting the panel from opposite sides makes the left sock a mirror of the right (pictured).

Project details and more photos are available here on Ravelry. If you are a knitter who doesn't have a Ravelry account, go join, you won't regret it.

bookclubbing in April (1 of 2)

Under the Sabers by Tanya Biank

Subtitled "The Unwritten Code of Army Wives", Under the Sabers looks at the culture of Army spouses by focusing specifically on the lives of four women whose husbands are stationed at Fort Bragg in North Carolina.

Author Tanya Biank is a journalist and Army brat who reveals only at the end of the book that she too is an Army wife. Under the Sabers was inspired by a rash of spousal murders involving individuals stationed at Fort Bragg. Those murders made Biank want to look more closely at the relationships between military men and their wives (was there something inherent in army life that could have led to the murders?). While Under the Sabers is not about the murders, its action takes place during that same time period and Biank does incorporate them into the book (one of the main characters is one of the murder victims and the other murders are mentioned when they occur).

They way Biank writes about the characters (characters probably isn't the best word as the individuals whose lives are chronicled in Under the Sabers are real, live people, but it'll do) makes it very easy for readers to become invested in them (I got teary-eyed when one of the husbands died in action even though I knew it was coming). That being said, it's hard to tell how true-to-life the depictions are. That Biank treats the murdered woman with the same level of detail as the other women despite never having talked to her makes one wonder just how much of what Biank wrote is "real". Also how much were the stories sanitized in order to get buy-in from the individual women (whose real names are used in the book)?

Only one member of the group had seen the Lifetime television show inspired by the book (Army Wives) and only after reading Under the Sabers. She reported that the characters seemed to be inspired by the individuals in the books, but that in the tv show they are all friends.

During our discussion we found ourselves straying from the book and talking more generally about military life and culture as experienced by us or those close to us. The one part of the book that we dwelt on the most was the death of Gary Shane (son of one of the four women). We understood that the death itself was inexplicable, but we were curious about what Biank wasn't saying about Gary Shane's family.

biweekly reading update

I haven't gotten much reading done lately, which I assume is obvious based on my lack of recent posts.

I have finished a few books:

• Dark Roots by Cate Kennedy (see post)
• Rumspringa by Tom Shachtman (online book club selection for April; we've just started discussion so I probably won't post about the book until next week)
• Under the Sabers by Tanya Biank (library book club selection for April; post to come later this week)

Right now the only book that I'm actively reading is Innocent Traitor: A Novel of Lady Jane Grey by Alison Weir. Of course I have a whole pile of books that I've started, but not yet finished, but really they are all languishing at the moment.

Dark Roots

I believe this is the first time I've used a short story collection as the book of the month...

Dark Roots by Cate Kennedy

Dark Roots is a short story collection by critically-acclaimed Australian author, Cate Kennedy.

In the volume's title story a 39-year-old woman begins dating a 26-year-old man. At first the love affair makes her feel invigorated, sexy and powerful, but slowly insecurities begin to take over to the point where she begins to unconsciously sabotage the relationship.

The seventeen stories included in Dark Roots are full of individuals like this, true-to-life characters confused and unsure about their futures. Their actions, though, range from eerily familiar (things you can imagine yourself doing if you were in that situation) and completely inexplicable (things that leave you wondering just how desperate you'd have to be to take such risks).

Dark Roots explores what it means to be human. In these stories there is comedy and there is tragedy and in many cases it is Kennedy's subtlety that is her greatest strength.

In the story I mentioned above, the protagonist is reading the list of side-effects of her new birth control pills, among them is a "tendency to hirsuteness". I didn't recognize the word and was intrigued when, in the following sentence, the character resolves to avoid alcohol except in moderation, something that didn't seem to relate to any of the other side-effects. So, I looked it up and it seems that alcohol doesn't relate to hirsuteness either, as hirsute means "hairy" or "covered with hair".

belated weekly reading recap

I really didn't get a lot of reading done this week. In fact, I only finished one book: The Calligrapher's Daughter by Eugenia Kim (post to come).

I'm anxiously awaiting the arrival of the two books I need to read for my book clubs this month: Rumspringa by Tom Shachtman and Under the Sabers by Tanya Biank.

In the meantime I'm currently in the middle of quite a few books:

• Dark Roots by Cate Kennedy (short story collection; to be the book of the month for April)
• If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things by Jon McGregor
• Innocent Traitor: A Novel of Lady Jane Grey by Alison Weir

I'm also finally knitting one of the patterns from Cookie A's Sock Innovation: Knitting Techniques & Patterns for One-Of-A-Kind Socks.

weekly reading recap

Finished this week:

• Day of Confession by Allan Folsom (see post)
• The Glassblower of Murano by Marina Fiorato (see post)
• Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll
  the LibriVox audio version (I found Through the Looking Glass horribly irritating, which is probably why it took me so long to finish it)

I'm currently reading:

• The Calligrapher's Daughter by Eugenia Kim
• If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things by Jon McGregor

The Elegance of the Hedgehog or book clubbing in March part 2

March was the first discussion month for the online book club my friend Lizzie started. The selection: The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery

Reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog was an interesting experience for me. After hearing all the buzz I was really looking forward to reading the book, in fact it was one of the ones I suggested for inclusion in the reading list, but tracking down a copy was a case in frustration (as per usual, at least for me, the "on the shelf" copy wasn't on the shelf in Lockwood. After checking twice, I put a trace on the book and it yielded nothing). Eventually I gave in and ordered a copy, which I didn't receive until after the discussion period had already started. I planned to read it right away straight through (as I'm wont to do) so I could participate in the discussion, but once I started it soon became apparent that The Elegance of the Hedgehog is not a book that can be read quickly.

When Paloma (the 12-year-old protagonist) on page 37, in only the third line of her narration, announces that she's going to be committing suicide in a few months I was shocked and horrified and I really wasn't sure whether I'd like the novel. Nevertheless I continued to read, persevering through all the dense philosophical passages, and ending up loving the novel.

Europa Editions has a really fantastic discussion guide available on its website. Our discussion leader brought it to our attention and pointed us to questions 1, 2, and 9 as starting points for our discussions.

The philosophical interludes, for me, were the most difficult portions of the book. I had to fight my desire to skim when they came up. Because of my educational background I have a better grounding in philosophy than many, but I was still overwhelmed by the amount and detail included the novel. I had to laugh, though, at the passing reference to Melanie Klein because I only know about her because one of the characters in Alexander McCall Smith's 44 Scotland Street books is obsessed with her.
The fact that Barbery is a philosophy professor explains the inclusion of the interludes (as does Renée's solitary and intellectually inquisitive character), but I do think they are off-putting to many readers. The philosophical musings decrease as the plot progresses, making the novel easier to read and Renée easier to relate to.

One of the most interesting things about the novel is how very easy it is to relate to the protagonists and how utterly unsympathetic they can be. Both Paloma and Renée are experiencing things we all experience--being misunderstood, un(der)appreciated, feeling alone even when surrounded by others--but they way that they act distances them from the reader. In particular, one can't help being turned off by the self-righteous way that both of them describe the others who inhabit their world. The Elegance of the Hedgehog is essentially about the humanization of Paloma and Renée so as each of them changes she becomes more sympathetic.

My favorite part of the novel, I think, is when Paloma puts Dr. T., the psychoanalyst, in his place:

'Listen carefully, Mr. Permafrost Psychologist, you and I are going to strike a little bargain. You’re going to leave me alone and in exchange I won't wreck your little trade in human suffering by spreading nasty rumors about you among the Parisian political and business elite. And believe me--at least if you say you can tell just how intelligent I am—-I am fully capable of doing this.' (209)

I have to admit that I think part of the reason I like this bit so much is because of how I feel about Dr. Fairbairn from the 44 Scotland Street books. I think Fairbairn is even more deserving of Paloma's vitriol than Dr. T.

I'm always interested in the meaning of books' titles, especially when it isn't apparent. In this case the title's genesis is Paloma's description of Renée:

Madame Michel has the elegance of the hedgehog: on the outside, she's covered in quills, a real fortress, but my gut feeling is that on the inside, she has the same simple refinement as the hedgehog: a deceptively indolent little creature, fiercely solitary--and terribly elegant. (143)

One of the reasons I was drawn to The Elegance of the Hedgehog was its intriguing title, but I appreciate the title even more now that I know that it's meaningful.

Day of Confession

Day of Confession by Allan Folsom

In Italy, the Cardinal Vicar of Rome is assassinated during a papal celebration. In Los Angeles, entertainment lawyer Harry Addison receives a desperate message from his long-estranged brother, Father Daniel Addison, a Vatican priest. Hours later a tour bus with Father Daniel aboard explodes on the road to Assisi.
When Harry arrives in Italy to claim his brother's body, he discovers that not only may Father Daniel still be alive, but he is the prime suspect in the murder of the Cardinal Vicar. In a sudden turn, Harry finds himself framed for the murder of an Italian policeman. Now on the run and on his brother's trail, Harry is thrust into a terrifying world of horror and deception where an international terrorist hunts Father Daniel as relentlessly as the authorities...and where a monstrous conspiracy arises from the very heart of the Vatican.

I've been listening to Day of Confession (read by Michael Kramer) while in the car for quite a while. I finally finished it this afternoon.

Day of Confession is another one of the inside-the-Catholic-church conspiracy thrillers. I liked the book overall, particularly how layered its plot is, but I'm not sure it's one that I would have chosen to read had it been in traditional book form.

The one thing that I found most interesting is that the two biggest villains both suffered from some sort of mental illness. I'm not sure if Folsom is using that instability to justify their actions. Is he trying to imply that people can't be evil by choice, that all depraved behavior is a result of mental imbalance?

The Glassblower of Murano

This book arrived in the mail on Wednesday and even though I had multiple books in progress I started it right away because it looked good.

The Glassblower of Murano by Marina Fiorato

The Glassblower of Murano is the story of Leonora Manin, a venetian-born Brit who decides to explore her roots after her divorce. It is also the story of Corradino Manin, Leonora's ancestor, a famous 17th century glassblower. While the majority of the narrative follows Leonora, Corradino's part is significant and does not exist solely as a foil to Leonora's storyline.

The Glassblower of Murano is both a historical mystery and a contemporary romance. The novel is full of Venice and Murano and the details of glass-making. Leonora in particular is a sympathetic character and her journey is realistic.

weekly reading recap

I finished two books this week:

• Casting Off by Nicole R. Dickson (see post)
• The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery
  the first selection for my online bookclub; post to come

I'm currently reading:

• Day of Confession by Allan Folsom (audio on cassette)
• If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things by Jon McGregor
• Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll
  the LibriVox audio version

book clubbing in March

Fantasy this month for book club!

Blue Girl by Charles de Lint

When Imogene, her mother, and her brother move to Newford, she decides to reinvent herself — this time she won't go looking for trouble.
She quickly gets to know two very different people. Maxine is a "good girl," following a strict life plan. Imogene helps Maxine loosen up and break a few rules, and in turn Maxine keeps her on the straight and narrow.
Imogene's other new friend is a little more unusual. His name is Adrian. He is a ghost. Adrian was killed when he jumped off the high school roof in 1998, and hasn't left since. He has a huge crush on her — so much so that he wants her to see the fairies that also haunt the school. The fairies invade Imogene's dreams, blurring the line between the unreal and the real. When her imaginary childhood friend Pelly actually manifests, Imogene knows something is terribly wrong. With Maxine, Adrian, and Pelly's help, Imogene challenges the dark forces of Faery.

I was really pleased when Blue Girl ended up on our reading list for book club. I've been reading de Lint since middle/high school (though I have to admit that it's been a while since I cracked one of his books open) and I've had a copy of Blue Girl sitting on my shelf since Russell bought it off my wishlist a couple of years ago.

Blue Girl got mixed reviews from the book club members, though I am happy to report that at least two of the book club members expressed interest in reading more de Lint. I liked Blue Girl, but I have to say that I thought that the ending was a bit anticlimactic.

During our meeting we discussed

• fantasy as a genre and urban fantasy as a subgenre (and I did a horrible job of explaining how urban fantasy has changed over time),
• what makes a YA/teen novel,
• whether we related more to the teenage characters or to their mothers,
• how we felt about the mothers (both in terms of their authenticity and whether we agreed with their outlooks),
• the nature of the faeries in novel, specifically the brownies/house faeries and how they were similar to house elves in the Harry Potter books,
• why Imogene has such difficulties believing in faeries when Adrian first tells her about them,
• the nature and role of angels in Blue Girl and how different it is from how angels are normally portrayed,
• how the various characters developed over the course of the novel,
• whether there was a happy ending for Adrian, and
• how we felt about certain decisions that Imogene makes during the course of the story, among other things.

Casting Off

Casting Off by Nicole R. Dickson

Academic Rebecca Moray receives a grant to do study both the history of Aran sweaters and the techniques and stories behind them. Her best friend Sharon grew up on the island* and Rebecca has been dreaming of this research trip for years. She also hopes that three months away will help ground her 6-year-old daughter Rowan, whose childhood has been marred by the loss of her father and frequent moves made necessary by Rebecca's career.

As soon as she and Rowan step off the dock, Rebecca begins to realize that she'll be getting more than she bargained from this trip. Everyone greets her and Rowan by name, treating them like long-lost relatives, but they all have very clear ideas about what Rebecca should be doing with her time. Amid all the friendly interference, the only cold reception comes from Sean Morahan, an enigmatic and troubled old man.

Casting Off is the story of Rebecca's research trip, of how the people of the island changed both Rebecca and her daughter, and how the Morays, in turn, changed them.

I originally wanted to read Casting Off because it is a knitting novel. I'm happy to report that it was much better that I expected to be. The story has real meat, the characters are sympathetic, the setting is bucolic and well-described, the knitting tidbits are interesting (the author even has a blog dedicated to the stitches featured in the novel), and the nothing that happens in the course of the novel is too terribly implausible.

I'm loaning my copy to a friend, but after that I think I'll keep it around for a while because I'm pretty sure that I'll want to re-read it.

* Casting Off is set on an unspecified Aran isle.

weekly reading recap

Finished this week:

• Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
  the LibriVox audio version; the book was much shorter that I remembered
• Exodus by Leon Uris (see post)
• The Girl with Glass Feet by Ali Shaw (see post)

Reading now:

• Casting Off by Nicole R Dickson
• Day of Confession by Allan Folsom (audio for car)
• Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll
  the LibriVox audio version

Exodus

Recently I forced Russell to read The Handmaid's Tale (Atwood) so it seemed only fair that I read one of the books he's been wanting me to read.

Exodus by Leon Uris

Russell likes Exodus because its plot is compelling (particularly with the inclusion of the various characters' backstories) and it's pretty accurate. He also appreciates the fact that Uris covers some parts of the history that are usually completely overlooked (like the evacuation of all the Yemeni Jews). When he first read the novel, it compelled him to do research on his own to find out what actually happened.

I have to admit that I was a bit intimidated by Exodus's page count especially when coupled with its small text and narrow margins. But, while it's not a novel you can tackle in one afternoon, Exodus is not a difficult read. That's not to say that there aren't some sections that are hard to read, but that's to be expected given the subject matter.

Overall I thought Exodus was a very good read. Uris is heavy-handed at time and the romantic aspect of the story is unexpectedly tame, but neither of these things keeps Exodus from being an extremely compelling read. The inclusion of the main characters' various backstories (in one case going back generations) is the novel's biggest strength, not only do those stories provide context for the individual characters, they also provide a framework for understanding the broader history of the Jews.

Reading Exodus also made me realize how much I don't know about the foundation of the nation of Israel.

Russell says, now you have to read Trinity...

The Girl with Glass Feet

The Girl with Glass Feet by Ali Shaw

I was really pleased when I was offered an advanced reader copy of Ali Shaw's debut novel. I was intrigued by the synopsis. It seemed like just the kind of book I enjoy most.

The Girl with Glass Feet is the story of Midas Crook, a young man who uses his camera to shield him from the world, and Ida Maclaird, the titular character (and if there is a single protagonist it is Midas not Ida). The novel is also very much concerned with its setting, the strange, snowbound archipelago of St. Hauda's Land. The Girl with Glass Feet is a love story and a fairy tale; its also a bildungsroman.

I found The Girl with Glass Feet extremely compelling and I know it's a novel that I will want to read again. While my favorite thing about the novel were the descriptions of the creatures that Henry (a secondary character) is raising, I was also intrigued by the fate of Midas' father's manuscript and the implications of said fate.

The Girl with Glass Feet is atmospheric and sometimes dreamlike. It's not a cheery book, but it is ultimately redemptive. St. Hauda's Land is vividly imagined and hauntingly beautiful. The novel's characters, even when faced with the impossible, are authentic.

When asked about his inspiration for the novel, he replied:

I remember being on an escalator in a railway station when I suddenly saw in my mind a girl with feet made of glass. I couldn’t tell you whether something prompted it – the image is the most vivid thing I can remember about that railway station. I got home and started exploring it, asking what kind of person had feet made of glass, and how on earth would she cope? And I loved the idea that she hadn’t always had feet of glass, but that slowly they had transformed into it. Which of course meant the rest of her body was in danger of turning into glass as well.

Shaw's sketches for the book on the publisher's website. The sketches don't appear in my advanced reader copy and I'm not sure that they'll appear in the published version, but they are quite interesting to see.

The Floating Brothel

Nonfiction for the student services blog this month...

The Floating Brothel: The Extraordinary True Story of an Eighteenth-Century Ship and Its Cargo of Female Convicts
by Sian Rees

The convict ship Lady Julia set sail from England in 1789. Its cargo was a bevy of “disorderly girls”, unemployed women reduced to petty thievery or prostitution, who had been sentenced to “Transportation to Parts Beyond the Seas.” These women were destined for Sydney Cove in New South Wales to provide companionship and children for the many male convicts already peopling the area.

Ostensibly the true story of the voyage, The Floating Brothel is also a work of imagination. Rees admits that the primary sources available to her were limited and that she relied heavily on probably-unreliable diaries of one of the ship’s crew. That being said, she does a fantastic job of bringing the 18th century to life for her readers. And, while The The Floating Brothel is not as salacious as its title suggests, it is a fascinating read.

Broken Glass Park

A review that appears in the latest issue of Library Journal...

Broken Glass Park by Alina Bronsky

This debut novel, which was nominated for the prestigious Ingeborg Bachmann Prize, reveals a strong voice that's simultaneously biting and accessible.
Its narrator, precocious 17-year-old Sacha, lives in a housing project in Berlin populated by Russian immigrants. She's at the top of the class in her exclusive private school and has two goals in life: to kill her stepfather and to write a book about her mother tentatively titled "The Story of an Idiotic, Redheaded Woman Who Would Still Be Alive if Only She Had Listened to Her Smart, Oldest Daughter." This modern coming-of-age story follows Sacha as she interacts with the characters that populate her world and ventures further afield.

It is unfortunate that Bronsky's depiction of the immigrant community veers into stereotype because, as an émigré herself, she is uniquely situated to critique her fellow travelers. Additionally, while translator Mohr's prose is pitch-perfect, the way his notes are inserted in the text distracts from the flow of the narrative.

Broken Glass Park is the kind of book one expects to see on high school reading lists. It faces difficult issues head-on and its edginess will appeal to teens.

weekly reading recap

I only finished one book this week: Vampyres of Hollywood by Adrienne Barbeau and Michael Scott (see post).

Reading now:

• Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
  the LibriVox audio version
• The Calligrapher's Daughter by Eugenia Kim
• Day of Confession by Allan Folsom (audio for car)
• Exodus by Leon Uris

word: mondegreen

A mondegreen is the mishearing or misinterpretation of a oft-heard phrase (usually something like a line in a poem or a song lyric), due to near homophony,* in a way that gives it a new meaning.
Like
"Our Father who art in Heaven, Harold be his name" for
"Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be his name"

The term mondegreen was coined by Sylvia Wright in a 1954 Atlantic article. As a child Sylvia had listened to a folk song that included the lines "They had slain the Earl of Moray / And laid him on the green," which she'd misheard as "They had slain the Earl of Moray / And Lady Mondegreen."


* the linguistic phenomenon whereby words of different origins become identical in pronunciation

Vampyres of Hollywood

Vampyres of Hollywood
by Adrienne Barbeau and Michael Scott

Hollywood, California: three gruesome deaths within two weeks and every one of them a major star - an Oscar winner, an ingenue, and an action hero. A serial killer is working through the Hollywood A-list and celebrities are running scared.
Each crime scene is worthy of a classic horror movie, and all three victims share a connection to the powerful scream queen, Ovsanna Moore. The stunning and formidable Moore is the legendary head of a Hollywood studio, as well as the writer and star of seventeen blockbuster horror films (and a few that went straight to DVD).
She's also a 500 year old vampyre... but this is Hollywood after all, and no one ever looks their age.
Beverly Hills Police Detective Peter King knows a lot about the City of Angels, but he certainly doesn't know that most of the famous actors in town are actually an established network of vampires. Or that secretive and seductive Ovsanna Moore happens to be their CEO.
Moore and King may be from opposite sides of the Hollywood Hills, but both have something to gain by stopping the killer who the tabloids have dubbed the Cinema Slayer. Ovsanna must protect her vampire legacy and her production schedule, while King just wants to keep his Beverly Hills beat as blood-free as possible. But when the horror queen and the cop with the movie star looks form an unholy alliance, sparks fly and so do the creatures of the night.

Vampyres of Hollywood showed up this week courtesy of BookMooch, a book trading site. Because its a "light" book, it got read right away (like most of the "light" or "fluffy" books that have come through our door lately).

A paranormal mystery set in the glamorous and tawdry world of Hollywood, Vampyres of Hollywood is both funny and gory. I'm not sure the authors' take on vampires is particularly novel (different types of vampires with different kinds of skills, vampires that change as they age, a society full of rules and complex power structures), but I enjoyed the idea of real vampires as the creators of vampire mythology and how the authors made connections with famous and historical personages (though there may be a bit too much name-dropping).

The narrative flip-flops between Ovsanna and Detective King and that change of perspective with each chapter is what propels the narrative along. That being said, Vampyres of Hollywood isn't so much of a page-turner that I had to stay up late to finish it. I didn't find the novel compelling. The writing isn't that great, it's finale tied things up too quickly, and the romance seemed tacked on at the end. Lackluster, in a word.

weekly reading report

Books finished this week:

• The Book of Lost Books by Stuart Kelly (this one wasn't what I expected)
• The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova (see post)

Reading now:

• The Calligrapher's Daughter by Eugenia Kim
• Day of Confession by Allan Folsom (audio for car)
• Exodus by Leon Uris (since I'm making Russell read The Handmaid's Tale it seemed only fair for me to read one of the books he's been wanting me to read)

The Historian

The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova

The Historian, Kostova's debut novel, was published to much acclaim in 2005. The novel is full of archival research (what I mean here is that the characters spend lots of time in archives, not that Kostova did archival research for the novel though maybe she did) so it's been on my must-read list. It's just taken me years to get around to it.

I started reading the 642-page novel last weekend. I didn't mind that it was long and mired in historical detail (like others have), I was just a bit disappointed in the ending. With all the build-up, the final encounter was a bit anticlimactic. Not to mention the fact that the climax, short-term tie-up, and epilogue are all accomplished in 25 pages. After reading 600+ pages of build-up, I felt a bit robbed.

There were a number of things I liked about the novel: the prominence of archives,* the fact that main characters were sympathetic (and many of the secondary characters full-bodied and interesting), pondering the meaning of the title (who is the historian), and the epigraphs. I enjoyed the interplay of the two storylines, but while I was following Helen and Paul I was wondering what the narrator was up to (and vice versa). That tension, wanting to know what was going to happen (especially wanting to find out what became of the narrator's mother) is what kept me reading, but based on my general dissatisfaction with the ending I don't think I'd recommend The Historian.

* One thing that I just have to share -
Dracula: "I will put many archivists at your disposal--the finest of them--and you shall bring more under our power" (577). Yes! who wouldn't want to serve evil if they were promised an army of archivists.

Friday Find #12

I'd heard about this book last month, but was reminded about it again today.

After reading all the dire predictions* of Taiga (courtesy of a thread on the ExLibris listserv), I was cheered to see How Librarians Can Save The World (an an NPR review of This Book is Overdue) shared by one of my friends on FaceBook.

Below is the publisher's blurb, but there's also an excerpt from This Book is Overdue available on the NPR site underneath Heller McAlpin's review.

This Book is Overdue: How Librarians and Cybrarians Can Save Us All
by Marilyn Johnson

Buried in info? Cross-eyed over technology? From the bottom of a pile of paper and discs, books, e-books, and scattered thumb drives comes a cry of hope: Make way for the librarians They want to help. They're not selling a thing. And librarians know best how to beat a path through the googolplex sources of information available to us, writes Marilyn Johnson, whose previous book, The Dead Beat, breathed merry life into the obituary-writing profession.
This Book is Overdue is a romp through the ranks of information professionals and a revelation for readers burned out on the cliches and stereotyping of librarians. Blunt and obscenely funny bloggers spill their stories in these pages, as do a tattooed, hard-partying children's librarian; a fresh-scrubbed Catholic couple who teach missionaries to use computers; a blue-haired radical who uses her smartphone to help guide street protestors; a plethora of voluptuous avatars and cybrarians; the quiet, law-abiding librarians gagged by the FBI; and a boxing archivist. These are just a few of the visionaries Johnson captures here, pragmatic idealists who fuse the tools of the digital age with their love for the written word and the enduring values of free speech, open access, and scout-badge-quality assistance to anyone in need.
Those who predicted the death of libraries forgot to consider that in the automated maze of contemporary life, none of us--neither the experts nor the hopelessly baffled--can get along without human help. And not just any help--we need librarians, who won't charge us by the question or roll their eyes, no matter what we ask. Who are they? What do they know? And how quickly can they save us from being buried by the digital age?

* Taiga Forum Provocative Statements (2006) and Taiga 4 Forum Provocative Statements (2009)

Margaret Atwood

Margaret Atwood was on campus on Wednesday as part of the University's Distinguished Speakers Series.

I went to hear her speak and I have to say that it really wasn't what I expected. Atwood herself was funnier than I imagined. Her talk was on the short side and its topic was "questions people have asked me and their answers" so the whole program ended up being like one huge question-and-answer session.

What she chose to include in her talk was interesting, particularly her discussion of how the questions she's usually asked have changed over the years. She touched on her hair, feminism, speculative fiction, and hope. Her answer to the question of which of her characters is most like her is Zenia from The Robber Bride because she's a pathological liar who's able to spin tales appropriate to her audience.

The audience questions covered a variety of topics. Atwood was asked about her arctic vacations and whether she had any advice for graduate students. Individuals requested that she comment about one character or another and share her feelings about the film adaptation of The Handmaid's Tale (she wishes they'd release an original cut because the voice-over bits were cut out and, while she understood that they had to change the ending, she didn't think what they decided to do was logical).

When Atwood was asked which genre she prefers to write she answered that if she really and truly enjoyed one more than the others that'd be the only genre in which she'd write. She continued that the bit of writing that she finds most difficult is the book review. As a result she reviews infrequently and only books that she likes. She mentioned reviewing E.O. Wilson's first novel Anthill.

She was also asked which authors she always snaps up: Alice Munro and Hilary Mantel. She also threw in a plug for Yann Martel's new book, Beatrice and Virgil (forthcoming in April).

When asked about the impending death of the book (in the wake of e-readers), Atwood mentioned that she'd written a post on her blog detailing three reasons to keep paper books: solar storms, energy shortages, and internet overload.

Books that were mentioned in the program (ordered, more or less, from most-mentioned to least) were The Handmaid's Tale, The Year of the Flood (which we'd expected her to talk more about than she did), Oryx and Crake, The Robber Bride, and Alias Grace. Atwood mentioned her poetry, but generally.

Of course I can't mention everything here, but that was a taste of it.

word: alack

Who doesn't like a good interjection? I know I do.

The word alack popped up in a book I'm reading (The Historian I think, though it could have been in The Blue Girl) and it seemed like a good word to feature. The phrase "alas and alack" comes to mind, but in the novel, alack was used on its own.

Alack is used to express sorrow, regret, or alarm

The OED adds:

Especially in phrases alack the day! alack-a-day! originally ‘Shame or reproach to the day! Woe worth the day!’ but in later usage of mere surprise, and aphetized* lack-a-day!

* aphetize, another good word. A linguistic term: having undergone aphesis (the removal of an unstressed initial vowel).

Weekly Reading Report

Books finished this week:

• Abhorsen by Garth Nix (3rd in the Abhorsen Trilogy; see post)
• The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
  one of my favorite books. I've convinced Russell to give it a try and will post about his reaction and our discussions after he's done
• Lirael by Garth Nix (2nd in the Abhorsen Trilogy)
• Moral Disorder by Margaret Atwood
  our February book club selection; see post

The two books that I'm actively reading now are The Book of Lost Books by Stuart Kelly and The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova.