Monday, May 20, 2002 09:47 a.m.
Tears of the Giraffe was as good as its predecessor. :) These books are so light and fun... I've started the third one, Morality for Beautiful Girls but haven't finished it... I've been reading it on my lunch break at work. I think this author is best in small bites... the language is simple enough to be devoured too quickly (if you're an impossible devourer like me) and so I've had to impose some limits. But it is difficult to keep to them... I dunno how long I'll be able to keep it up.

Right now I'm reading Lord of the Silent because I am behind in my Elizabeth Peters reading. I bought my mother the newest one in the series for mothers' day and I can't read it until I read this one. :) Elizabeth Peters is delightful popcorn for the somewhat overly romantic (though not unintelligent!) sort... handsome men and determined women and archeaology and Egypt and intrigue and murder... :) I've been reading them since high school and I can't give them up. Her Ameila Peobody series is her largest and most popular, and so she seems to come out with a new book every year (right around mothers' day...) They are chronological, (so you should start with Crocodile on the Sandbank), following the independant Amelia and her archeologist family throughout her many troubles and pyrimids and dead bodies. I believe the series begins at the end of the nineteenth century (haven't looked at the dates in a while) and this newest one takes place in 1915, well into WWI.

She's written several other books as well, including a series centered around an art expert in Munich named Vicki Bliss. I miss them a bit (I've read them all twice). And the last one seemed fairly final, so I don't hold out much hope for a new one. They are not set back in time, and the main character isn't independantly wealthy with gentry for friends and family... so its a bit less impossibly romantic (only a bit though). Highly entertaining (but still most definitely chick stuff).

Saturday, May 11, 2002 09:31 a.m.
Anyone who wants to know how nuts I was in high school should pick up the pair of fantasy books, Mirror of her Dreams, and A Man Rides Through by Stephen R Donaldson, and realize that I loved them so much that the memory of them compelled me to buy them again and read them immediately.

I really loved these books, and still believe them to be at the top of their particular niche. The high handed sexism and arrogance and delusions of grandure are fairly subtle, insidious. The book is all intrigue, little action... a cerebral book for smart adolescents who don't want to admit they're facinated by sex and violence. I think it's the use of the rape threat that really gets me... Its used to tantalize. The only explicit sex in the book is sex with a touch of violence, the good guys go off camera whenever things get interesting. And it tinges the whole book with this aura of sneaky dark pleasures. Which- not being a teenage nutcase anymore- strikes me as dumb and a bit nasty. This in a book where the main themes are of psychological suffering and hardship.

And my god. Its not like the plot ever actually makes a great deal of sense. Being the sort of thing where you start thinking about it- trying to figure it out, seeing plot holes looming- and feel distinctly that you are wasting your time.

But I know, I remember, that the plot wasn't what made it compelling. Its the fact that it's long (very very long... really one 1200 page novel in two volumes), its got likeable heros, a heroine whose uncertainty is familiar, and a slow inexorable exploitation of vulnerablity with a happy ending tacked on for good measure. The girl gets a nice guy in the end and triumphs over her desire for the icky nasty bad guy. And this was the sort of thing I read with obsessive compulsive need for entirely too long way back then. I enjoyed it.

Ugh.

Wednesday, May 1, 2002 10:59 a.m.
The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency is wonderful! Simple, warm and with a fabulous leading lady. This book is at once a story about an African woman... her growing up, her choices, her father, her husband... and the big and little mysteries that trickle into the only detective agency of Botswana. She is intelligent and curious in a mothering, heartwarming way. Her love of her country and its people glows throughout the novel, and the pains of her personal experience as well of the more general pains of Africa lend depth to her story. Her father worked in South African mines to make money for his family. She married the wrong man and never became a mother. And still the book is positive. The way this detective approaches difficulties and speaks of her country lends warmth to a sad day. Its a book that lifts the spirits and lends light and perspective to the daily grind.

Wednesday, May 1, 2002 08:36 a.m.
The mystery that I read and then forgot all details of I found this morning... (Mom took an interest and was a bit annoyed that all I could remember about it was that it was good)

Its called Lazarus Arise and it's by Nicholas Kilmer. It's not amazing in a literary or big picture sort of way, but for a fun mystery it's great. The man has a vocabulary for one thing; it doesn't feel like the same twelve words are being used over and over, which is nice. And the setting (the main character is an art buyer for a rich collector) is interesting. Basically it's mid-high end bubblegum for hungry literature/mystery lovers. I think it's aimed at people who are a little tired of the run of the mill mystery series... need a step up... but aren't looking to commit to too much... looking for a beach or vacation read. There's art and history and a good plot. The book is short and the main character is pretty cool. And there's a series of them- probably not chronological but with the same main character- so there's more if the first one leaves you wanting more.

It is published by a small press... so I'm not sure how available they are. But our bookstore will be trying to get a couple paperbacks in... though Amazon's only showing the hardcover available. Perhaps they'll be out soon... not sure. Amazon also shows a fairly negative PW review, which has its points. I still think the book is a fun read though.

(after looking at amazon's "People who bought this also bought...") He's not as good as Perez-Reverte (at least in The Flanders Panel, The Fencing Master, or The Club Dumas), and he doesn't come close to Iain Pears. (my new idol)

Monday, April 29, 2002 08:41 p.m.
The long delay in blogging about a serious book was due, in part, to the curious and to me somewhat baffling, Haunting of L by Howard Norman. Norman is amazing and the book is incredibly well written, but there are things that escape me, and I don't feel quite able to write about it. It's a close, exact, depiction of three tormented individuals... pained by bizzare circumstances in part, but mostly by their inner lives. The book is about true life long pain sustaining itself in the hearts of these characters... never abating, but finding ways to be more comfortable. Shifting and selectively manifesting itself until the conflicts are over and the haunting can continue, welcomed somehow by the haunted.

Though an easy book to read- the writing is flawless and the characters are interesting- it is terribly difficult for me to get a handle on. It is a cerebral novel, full of big patterns and points and metaphors, but about the basest and deepest of emotions. And still it centers around the palest leading lady ever. A ghost... and for no particular reason. And her lack of depth is as disturbing as it is difficult to understand and accept. Or rather, it is difficult to understand how other characters accept and even need and want her. How can something so insubstantial be made the keystone of a life?

The novel is about the pain that makes ghosts out of men and women. Makes them want nothing more than to go back to the beginning of the end and live there forever.

Or at least that's where I am at the moment. I'll be thinking about this one for a good long time.

Monday, April 29, 2002 08:16 p.m.
Just finished The Dream of Scipio by Iain Pears. And have actually bothered to link to Amazon this time simply because you must read this book. Especially if you are a johnnie looking for diversion...

Weaving together the stories of parallel men in fifth, fourteenth and twentieth century (WWII) France, this author explores the notions of civilization, right action, virtue, love and necessity, while creating a love story and murder mystery that have you begging for the ending.... hating at the same time that the book will end... the depth and clarity of his conclusion will make you gasp (and gush to your husband while reading excerpts out loud... Andrew's probably about had it with this book) And the scope of the novel is simply astounding. It's sustaining and masterful in that way you feel in your gut... exclaiming while you read... fervently attempting always thereafter to compel people to read it, just so they'll understand what you mean.

Trying to push the gushing aside a bit... The novel specifically looks at the Catholic church, a greek notion of civilization/philosophy/learning, and leadership in general. Specifically how both leaders and smaller citizens deal with catastrophic and impossible circumstance... namely the beginning of the end of the Holy Roman Empire, the plague, and the Nazis of WWII. Personal attachments are pitted against the scholarly love of ideas, centering, in the end, on what the right course of action is when the choices are all terrible...
Do we, should we, choose the lover or the good or the necessary for survival?

And with all those big questions, seamlessly, in the end you still want to know, need to know, whodunnit.

Friday, March 29, 2002 08:09 p.m.
Ok... I'm going to finish a real grown-up book soon. Very soon. But for now, I must talk about picture books.

The Three Questions, adapted for children from the Tolstoy short story by Jon Muth, ISBN: 0439199964, just released, is wonderful. Beautiful illustrations, good story, great last page. Not quite as elegant as Miss Rumphius, but what is. ;) And its comforting to see in print a message to children about what is important in life without wanting to throw the book on the ground and jump on it again and again. Good point. Good pictures.

Along the same lines is The Old Turtle by Douglas Wood (been around for a bit, came out in '92). The illustrations are perfect and are presented as small squares in the middle of the white pages... like a museum presentation, so you really feel the effect of the color. (trust me, it works) The story is a creation/culture story. A little more heavy handed than The Three Questions maybe, but the style is different, stiffer... its meant to feel old. It works.

Other picture books currently on my good list:

Cinder-eyed Cats by Eric Rohmann
Score One for the Sloths by Helen Lester
Great Escape From City Zoo by Tobby Riddle
Polkabats and Octopus Slacks by Calef Brown

Animal week at story time. Can't go wrong with a book about sloths, and The Cinder-eyed Cats has beautiful pictures and has the most lyrical, excellent writing... better than your average, and even above-average children's writing. And the Polkabats book contains the funniest childrens' poetry ever! Find it. Open it. Check out Funky Snowman and the Visiting Slugs. You will laugh.

Thursday, March 21, 2002 09:38 p.m.
I don't like The Unbearable Lightness of Being. At all. Can't stand it. Couldn't finish it. Somehow it's one of those books though where I feel at fault.

I apologize?

Monday, March 18, 2002 08:52 a.m.
The beginning of The Museum Guard by Howard Norman (ISBN:0312204272) makes Edgar Mint look really bad. The main characters seem similar to me... both traumatized early on in childhood resulting in a somewhat frozen reluctance/inability to interact with the world. Norman writes it better. Its immediately obvious that the man knows what he's doing. And this is supposed to be the least impressive of his novels. The Bird Artist is supposed to be wonderful. Can't wait to read the newest one; my manager says its fantastic.

He's coming to our store too! Its the first reading we've had that I'm really excited about. I'm not sure if I'm working or not...

Monday, March 11, 2002 09:49 a.m.
Frida, by Jonah Winter, Ill by Ana Juan, ISBN:0590203207, is a beautiful hardcover picture book about Frida Kahlo and how important her art was to her. The illustrations are magnificent.

Thursday, March 7, 2002 10:13 a.m.
Ahhh... Re: The Miracle Life of Edgar Mint
The paperback ed. will be out soon. (May 2002) Published by Vintage, which is part of Random House, which is why the RH rep had an advance copy to give us. The hardcover was indeed published by Norton in 2001. All is clear.

Thursday, March 7, 2002 08:58 a.m.
I was actually motivated last night, after finishing The Doctor's House (By Ann Beattie, ISBN: 0743212649) to read it again immediately because it's so good. (a fairly unusual circumstance) However, I should temper that statement with the fact that I took a break in the middle of it, not able to finish it without something else (in this case several days) in between. It doesn't have the emotional energy to pull a reader through... to demand to be finished. That said...

The Doctor's House is a portrait of a family dominated and tormented by the father, an aggressive, abusive doctor. The story is told in three points of view: sister, mother, brother. Three seperate sections. The current state of their lives is presented together with their memories of the past, all after the fact, suggesting causes and effects. Beattie is detailed and intimate and natural in her writing. The dialogue between characters is masterfully juxtaposed with inner thoughts. The reader is allowed to make inferences and connections, to put the big picture together, as the point of view is always limited to one of the three family members. And the characters always appear real. Their rememberances do not dominate their narritives to the point where they seem artificial or obsessed. They truly seem like people one might know, and the everyday situations they find themselves in are familiar.

The characters are this book. There was potential for them to be needy, demanding of the reader's feelings, but Beattie chose to make them independant, interesting. This drew me in, the fact that I was allowed to feel sympathy and be involved without feeling that I should be sharing in their pain. (a bizzare concept I always thought) Or in other words, though the subject matter may suggest otherwise, it's not an Oprah book.

Inspiring both admiration and respect. In me at least.

Wednesday, March 6, 2002 11:29 p.m.
A Single Shard by Linda Sue Park (ISBN: 0395978270), the new Newberry book, is fabulous. Its a novel about an orphan in 12th century Korea. It made me cry its so good. You should read it.

Wednesday, March 6, 2002 11:05 p.m.
I finished The Miracle Life of Edgar Mint: A Novel by Brady Udall today. (ISBN: 0393020363) I didn't think it was out yet but amazon says otherwise. Amazon also says Norton put it out.. and I was thinking... nevermind. The advance copy I had is no longer at hand. (also the advance copy had a much more dynamic cover than the released HC... which I find bizarre)

In any case. The book is tremendously clever and unique and flawlessly written. And yet it just somehow didn't make me feel enough stuff to be satisfied. I think the right person(s) will find it hilariously funny, but for some reason I felt it a little flat the whole way through. I think its hard to make clever, bizarre scenarios the basis for a novel... even if they make for great short stories. (keep in mind this is a full length 384 page fictional bio) Edgar was distant from me as a reader... he wasn't close enough to be sympathetic. Which is not to say there aren't great characters in the book... or great scenes... or even great relationships... there are. It just felt to me that there were layers missing.

I'd be interested to see how this book would read with other people I know... The experience of reading/finishing it reminded me of Catcher in the Rye, a favorite for many (Elise!) and another book that left me feeling rather distant. Edgar seems similar to Holden to me, but I can't put my finger on why. I think I may feel rejected by both in some way. Maybe a fan of both books will be able to explain it to me.

Sunday, March 3, 2002 09:35 p.m.
A new favorite children's book for me, The Lost Flower Children (by Janet Taylor Lisle, Puffin 2001, ISBN 0698118804) is reminiscent of the Secret Garden but smaller, and notable in its own right. The two little girls in the story are painted flawlessly, carefully. Their actions and words and thoughts and feelings are genuine, very much the Big sister and Little sister. Their mother has died, leaving them out of place, rigid and alone. An elderly aunt has the unwanted pleasure of their care, a once famous gardner. She brings the children back to life, subtly inspiring motion and activity where bfore there could only be frightened, safe routine. The book is brief and so lacking in commentary it begins to seem to glow near the end. The actual writing is entirely transparent, leaving the warm and mysterious journey of its characters clear and perfect.

Sunday, March 3, 2002 09:07 p.m.
This chapter sold Misadventures (by Sylvia Smith, pub. by Canongate Books 2001, ISBN 1841950955) to me.
...
The Indian Shopkeeper

I saw a beautiful green handbag in the window of an east London leatherware shop, but without its price tag. I entered the shop and asked the Indian shopkeeper how much it cost. He reached for the bag and passed it to me, saying, ‘this is an excellent handbag in a very soft leather that I imported from France and I want seventy-five pounds for it.’ It was much more than I had expected and I told him so. He showed me various cheaper bags but I didn’t like any and left the shop.

I walked along the High Road and the Indian shopkeeper caught up with me. He fell into step beside me and we strode along the main road together. He asked, ‘Can I take you for a coffee?’ I replied, ‘No thank you.' Undaunted he asked, ‘Can I take you for a drink?’ Again I replied, ‘No thank you.’ He then asked, ‘Would you like to be my wife?’ I was very surprised but once again I replied, ‘No thank you.’ He returned to his shop as I continued on my way.
...

The whole book is like this. Inelegant, emotionless, exquisite, unique, bizarre and terribly terribly funny. But only if you like that sort of thing. It takes deadpan humor to its absolute limit and puts a slanted spotlight on small, overlooked moments.

Saturday, March 2, 2002 10:23 a.m.
...
I see your dry currents move,
I see interrupted hands grow,
I hear your oceanic vegetation
rustle shaken by night and fury,
and I feel leaves dying inward,
joining green substances
to your forsaken immobility.
...

From Pablo Neruda's Entrance to Wood, translated by Donald D. Walsh. Mmmm.... fabulous. Neruda isn't my favorite, but I'm in love with this book. (Residence on Earth, New Directions Pub., ISBN 0811204677). I get struck sometimes with a craving for fairly unfamiliar poetry and this was incredibly satisfying. Simple language, good images. Repetative at first but beautiful upon close reading. And an interesting, welcome contrast (even in translation, though this ed. does have facing spanish text) to poems written in english. I will have to buy it. Even though Andrew will frown and say I have too many books. (Ha!)

Wednesday, February 27, 2002 01:50 a.m.
Testing test test test....

On the face of it, The Seal Wife (by Kathryn Harrison, due out May 2002 from Random House, ISBN 0375506292) is about a sexually frustrated weather man. It makes no apologies. It takes no pains to explain that its subject is more complex. It simply, cooly, waits for you to come to your senses and appreciate its beauty.

Reflected in the expert language of the novel is its true subject: not mindless, emotionless lust, but the idea of meaningful interaction. This novelist paints the subtleties of need, contact, personal identity and language, and does it with a government scientist alone and new to the north, the entirely silent women who become central to his life, a forgettable chatty whore and a perfectly conceived and constructed kite. Words and lines and image and movement and emotional, phyisical language are all explored seamlessly in this cold, clear fiction. A satisfying glimpse of something real.