At long last...I have returned...

Why?  Why was my last posting in June?!  I have two problems with keeping this blog up to date: I prefer to write a review immediately after reading the book and do not like to start reading a new book until I have posted the review.  If a few days pass with no time for writing, I start another book and get too removed from the review.  Sigh…I am not obsessive on many issues, but writing is one of them.  This entry will be a quick review of one book with a brief mention of the prior novel read.

If you have never explored Book Riot, I highly recommend this site for honestly interesting articles and book recommendations.  Recently I read one of their recommendations, What We See When We Read by Peter Mendelsund; it is a thought provoking examination of our minds at work when we read and a deceptively quick read because you will want to read it again…and again.

Peter Mendelsund is the associate art director of Alfred A. Knopf, book cover designer, and a “recovering classical pianist” (book cover).  He approaches the topic through focusing on several famous works including Anna Karenina.  His love of music and art are also strong components.  It is a fluid use of examples familiar to most readers.  This reader found herself making some immediate connections with things she thought about while reading No Great Mischief by Alistair MacLeod.  I delayed writing about MacLeod’s novel because I needed to let it settle in my mind.  I thought, mistakenly, that Mendelsund’s book would be one I could read for a bit and put down.  But by page 19, I knew that was not going to happen:

Most authors (wittingly, unwittingly) provide their fictional characters with more behavior than physical description.  Even if an author excels at physical description, we are left with shambling concoctions of stray body parts and random detail (authors can’t tell us everything).  We fill in gaps.  We shade them in.  We gloss over them.  We elide.  Anna [Karenina]: her hair, her weight—these are facets only, and do not make up a true image of a person. 

Of course!  And it already had me thinking:  how much description of a character do authors really give?  How clearly do we see a character?  I’ve thought about this many times.  I don’t see characters clearly – just enough.  While reading No Great Mischief I envisioned body types and general features but not true faces.  Even books I love and have read multiple times do not create exact images of characters in my mind.  It is not important to know the exact features of Hester Prynne or Huck Finn; their beliefs and actions are the importance of character.  Character is not defined by looks.

Mendelsund discusses the issue of characters brought to life in films:  “One should watch a film adaption of a favorite book only after considering, very carefully, the fact that the casting of the film may very well become the permanent casting of the book in one’s mind.  This is a very real hazard” (41).  I stopped reading for a moment because one of my favorite novels, To Kill a Mockingbird, is a victim of this experience.  I saw the film before reading Harper Lee’s novel.  When I read it, all the characters were clear images in my mind: clear images of the actors performing the roles.  Those images were so real; years later, teaching it for the first time, I bought the film on VCR (latest technology of the time).  I was shocked to discover the snowman scene had been edited out.  Colleagues convinced me it was never in the film, but the actors/characters were so clear in my mind, I saw them while reading that scene.  Thinking about it now, I guess I was “reading a movie.”

His thoughts on reading are haunting me now in a wonderful way.  This book has not changed me as a reader, but it has changed the way I will discuss books.  “Words are effective not because of what they carry in them, but for their latent potential to unlock the accumulated experience of the reader” (303).  No one ever reads the same book twice; I may read a book I have read before, but I am a different person.  I have discussed this many times with students.  It is why I enjoy reading books multiple times.  “To read is: to look through; to look past…though also, to look myopically, hopefully, toward…There is very little looking at” (334-5).

Mendelsund, Peter. What We See When We Read.  Vintage Books: New York, 2014.  Print.

And…No Great Mischief by Alistair MacLeod is a marvelous, award-winning Canadian novel.  Unfortunately, MacLeod is one of the creative voices we lost in 2014.  The narrator, Alexander MacDonald, “guides us through his family’s mythic past as he recollects the heroic stories of his people: loggers, miners, drinkers, adventurers; men forever in exile, forever linked to their clan…beginning with the legendary patriarch who left the Scottish Highlands in 1779 for Nova Scotia” (from the back cover).

MacLeod, Alistair. No Great Mischief. McClelland & Stewart LTD: Toronto, 2001. Print.

Thinking about books and reading...

Normally this blog is dedicated to reviews, but my recent birthday gave me pause to think about what I read and how others perceive my choices.  Two different friends gave me these books for my birthday.  Both friends know of my love of literature and Canada.  The person who presented this lovely edition of poetry by Dylan Thomas actually sent a text asking if I liked this poet.  I am delighted to have this because previously I only had examples found in anthologies.  This New Directions edition even includes an essay on the Art of Poetry by Thomas.  The second friend took a chance that I would not have How To Be a Canadian * (Even If You Already Are One) by Will Ferguson and Ian Ferguson in my library; he was correct.  This is an amusing book; one to pick up, read a bit, skip around, and read a bit more.  But a book of poetry also requires the willingness to read a book a little at a time, even if the level or type of engagement with the text will be quite different.  As I tend to read from several books at the same time, it is nice to have some offering varying intensities of attention.

It is also nice as I am about half way through my reading year to reflect on my progress.  I always set myself a goal, and having challenged myself to 75 books in 2014, I am a bit behind.  I know why as life interferes and a different work schedule has changed my reading time.  But with less work in the summer and reduced teaching in the fall, I anticipate catching up and making my goal.  Unlike the past few years when I had categories to challenge my tendency to lapse into only fiction, this year I decided to start with a particular shelf of books and see where it took me.  

The year began with Canadian authors: two authors of YA novels and an adult novel on the "Canada Reads" list.  I was also reading short stories from the anthology for the Introduction to Literature class I taught.  I moved into a more recent novel, Life After Life by Kate Atkinson, followed by The Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder...again, for my class.  Together with a third novel,, the connections between time and where our lives take us emerged as a common theme.

As my annual pilgrimage to the Shakespeare Festival in Stratford, Ontario, Canada approaches, I usually revisit some plays by Shakespeare and perhaps one or two of the other plays I'll be seeing with my seminar group.  But over the past few years I've also enjoyed the liberty of reading some books inspired by Shakespeare.  It is fun to see how other people make connections with the plays.  Last year I discovered a wonderful novel, I, Iago by Nicole Galland in preparation for a performance of Othello, and will revisit Fool by Christopher Moore along with King Lear for this summer.  But two other books have also jumped off the shelf together with my beloved Pelican edition of The Complete Works of Shakespeare: A Midsummer Tempest by Poul Anderson and Shakespeare's Daughter by Peter W. Hassinger.

A Midsummer Night's Tempest is a classic from the genre of science fiction.  The back cover offers inviting promise: "Welcome to the world of Puck and Caliban, Oberon and Titania, Ariel and Neptune, to the world of Faery, where a single night can while away a century  and gold can turn to dross in the twinkling of an elfin eye...but what in the world of Faery is that steam engine doing there - and King Charles: he wasn't even born when Shakespeare wrote!"  Anderson has joined the worlds of A Midsummer Night's Dream and The Tempest with additional surprises.  It offers me a fun way to revisit the Dream.  And Hassinger has written a YA novel that creates a world for Susanna Shakespeare.  I always had some students who enjoyed historical fiction; after all, Shakespeare did not expect us to be treating his plays like the Bible.

And who knows...perhaps as I shift between the physical books on my shelves and the Nook Library I am becoming accustomed to, I may even take up the challenge of another friend and read a romance.  This morning I finished reading a classic ghost story on my Nook.  The world is full of marvelous things.

Three Short Reviews...

Back in January I posted a review of two novels by Tim Wynne-Jones; hence, this review briefly highlights what I love about his writing.   

Blink & Caution is a YA novel about two teenage runaways appropriate for ages 13+.  It takes place in Ontario, and Wynne-Jones’ knowledge of both the rural areas and Toronto make the settings and description vividly engaging.  In this novel the character of Blink alternates between the rare 2^nd person point of view and limited 3^rd person.  It is done so smoothly I was halfway through the book before I noticed.  Caution’s character remains in the 3^rd person.  The characters and story line are realistic and believable with enough ambiguity to make the happy ending acceptable.  I will definitely be looking for more novels by Tim Wynne-Jones.

Wynne-Jones, Tim. Blink & Caution. Somerville MA: Candlewick Press, 2011        

Another author whose work I will always return to is Ann Patchett.  Bel Canto kept me riveted, so when I saw her first novel available on my Nook, I added it immediately.  The Patron Saint of Liars is about a young pregnant mother and a Kentucky home for unwed mothers.  But Rose is not unwed, and there the story truly begins.

The novel is divided in sections with the first containing the story of Habit; the town that contained a miraculous hot spring.  This section is a history and provides the setting for the center of the story.  The center of the story is Rose.

Rose is not happy in her marriage, and upon discovering her pregnancy, she takes off.  She goes to a home for unwed mothers in Habit, Kentucky.  Rose, despite her closeness to her mother, says nothing to her or her husband:

But learning is easier than forgetting.  The fact that my mother, that Thomas, didn’t know where I had gone or the reason, made my life easier, but I liked to think it made things easier for them as well.  The world is full of things we’re better off not knowing. (37)

            To tell more of the story would break my rule of no spoilers.  But the world of Rose Clinton is thought-provoking, tantalizing, frightening, and convincing…totally convincing.  Now I want to read all of Patchett’s books.

Patchett, Ann. The Patron Saint of Liars. New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 1992. E-book.

Anyone who has entered my home realizes I probably have enough books to read, but sometimes a book is left behind.  Timmy Failure Mistakes Were Made No. 1 by Stephen Pastis came with a great recommendation – two in fact.  My Godtwins, Leo and Faye Stiffler, had both read it and said it was great.  They are correct.  If you are familiar with the “Pickles” comic strip, you know the work of Stephen Pastis.  This novel was written for elementary school level, but Pastis cannot help dropping a few lines for the adults in a child’s life.  For instance, Timmy explains that the family name used to be Falyeur.  And now I am ready to have a book discussion with the twins.  I hope to see them again soon.

Pastis, Stephen. Timmy Failure Mistakes Were Made No. 1. Somerville, MA; Candlewick Press, 2013. Print.

A book to avoid...

It is a rare day when I decide to stop reading a book; one of those days happened this week.  Usually I do not pick up a book unless I am fairly certain I want to read it.  Uppity Women of Shakespearean Times by Vicki Leon was a gift from someone.  I knew it was meant to be humorous and started reading it with the idea that I would have a laugh and pass it on.  I read about 37 pages and stopped.  The tone of this book was too flippant for me.  I cannot read about these women being treated as if they were simply amusing anecdotes.

A chapter entitled “The Better to Eat Chocolate With” discusses the Hapsburg family:

But the true family curse was The Lip (in point of fact, the entire jaw).  Populations of good-sized cities could have taken shelter under a Hapsburg chin.  Wobbly and red as cherry Jell-O, The Lip made many males of the family look moronic.  So you can just imagine how Princess Anna of Austria and all the other Hapsburg Annas, Marys, Elizabeths, and Christines felt when they looked in a mirror. 

Among other thankless tasks, Anna married King Louis XIII, produced a Louie heir, and ran France as queen regent from 1643 to 1661.  Spanish-born Anna brought new ideas to the French court.  Naturally they all tittered when she first lifted a cup of some dirty brown substance to those Austria-sized lips.  But Anna persisted, jutting out a chin that would stun Jay Leno into silence.  (34)

This description of hot chocolate is mild in its offense.  Imagine the chapters that make light of abuse including but not limited to women accused of witchcraft and used as brood bitches.

            I love satire and could accept well-written examples, but to show a reproduction of an ancient woodcarving with a man holding a leash attached to a metal cage over a woman’s face accompanied with the caption, “Hmm—is this what they mean by humanism?” is beyond acceptable (2).

            The book cover credits Ms. Leon with 26 books including Uppity Women of Ancient Times and Uppity Women of Medieval Times.  I will not be looking for or even at any other books by Vicki Leon.  “She enjoys giving workshops and speeches on the unsung women of history.”  No, thank you.  I do NOT want to hear what she has to say.

Leon, Vicki.  Uppity Women of Shakespearean Times. New York: MJF Books, 1999. Print.

Pagan Babies by Elmore Leonard

This review will be short and sweet because Elmore Leonard is not an author who requires note taking and analysis.  Do not take this as an insult.  Sometimes I read a book just to be entertained, and this one fits that description.

I originally purchased this novel for three reasons: the title, if you were educated in a Catholic school during the 1950s or 60s, you understand; the author, I had heard about Elmore Leonard but never read anything by him, and it was recommended by an employee of the late great Borders Books on Hylan Drive in Henrietta, New York.  It has waited patiently on my bookshelf.

What a fun read with quirky characters!  From the book jacket: 

Father Terry Dunn hears a lot of strange confessions.  After all, he’s the only priest for miles in the lingering aftermath of the worst massacre Rwanda has ever seen.  And Fr. Terry, who has forty-seven bodies in his church that need burying, has just heard one confession too many.  After exacting from them a chilling penance, Fr. Terry has to get out of Africa – pronto.  Now Terry is coming home to Detroit, where a five-year-old tax-fraud indictment is hanging over him.  Is Terry Dunn really a priest?

And that is the entire teaser I will give.  Throw in some hoodlums, a female stand-up comic recently released from prison, a not so powerful mob boss, and several people good at looking the other way, and together with Leonard's superb realistic writing, you have a hell of a good story.  And the best thing about it is…it is the only book I have read by this prolific writer.

Leonard, Elmore.  Pagan Babies. New York: Delacorte Press, 2000. Print

Glaciers by Alexis M. Smith

Back in September I read a book in one day, enjoyed it, did not take notes, or write a review.  When I started playing catch up with my writing, I realized I could not remember much about this little gem on my shelf.  Exactly six months later, I read it for the second time, took some notes, and now am able to tell you about a wonderful first novel: Glaciers by Alexis M. Smith.

This novel was one of those selected for World Book Night 2013, and when I went to pick up the books I was distributing, this one caught my eye.  This second time around, having just finished reading two novels written on a grand scope of time, I was mesmerized by a limited omniscient third person point of view telling the story of one day in the life of Isabel, a 22-year old woman residing in Portland, Oregon.  Isabel repairs books at the library and is fascinated by the past.  We travel through her day while learning about her past through a series of flashbacks.  Seamlessly written, the world of Isabel is poignant, thoughtful, exquisitely precise, and visceral.

Isabel loves vintage clothes – vintage everything.  Growing up in a small town in Alaska, she has dreamed of traveling to other cities since her first visit, as a child, to Seattle.  She has not visited them but collects postcards and dreams. She finds a postcard from Amsterdam in her favorite junk store:  

The postmark is dated 14 Sept 1965 and there is a message, carefully inscribed:  Dear L---  Fell asleep in a park.  Started to rain.  Woke up with my hat full of leaves.  You are all I see when I open or close a book.  Yours, M...She imagines the young woman (Miss L. Bertram, 2580 N. Ivanhoe St., Portland, Ore) who received the postcard, and how much she must have read between those few lines, how much she must have longed for him to say more. (11-12)

And thus begins our 24 hours with Isabel.  Her imagination is always at work.  She has a crush on a co-worker with whom she silently shares morning coffee on a daily basis, “It pleases her to see him like this, sitting at the kitchenette table first thing in the morning, his black glasses fogged with coffee steam.  It is as close as she has been to waking up with him” (42-43).  But her life lived in the imagination does not disappoint or keep her from experiencing life.

I look forward to more novels by Alexis M. Smith and will also be on the lookout for other books published by Tin House Books.

Smith, Alexis M. Glaciers. Portland, Oregon: Tin House Books, 2012. Print.

"One could lose everything in the blink of an eye, the slip of a foot."

While reading The Bridge of San Luis Rey, I was also reading Life After Life by Kate Atkinson.  Ironically, both novels deal with those “if not for this” moments mentioned in my previous blog.  But Atkinson does not explore the lives of five people all taken at the same moment; her exploration is much more complicated.

From the book jacket:

On a cold and snowy night in 1920, Ursula Todd is born to an English banker and his wife.  Ursula dies before she can draw her first breath.  On that same cold and snowy night, Ursula Todd is born, lets out a lusty wail, and embarks upon a life that will be, to say the least, unusual.  For as she grows, she also dies, repeatedly, in a variety of ways, while the young century marches on toward its second cataclysmic world war.

Ursula’s life begins and ends, and begins and ends, over and over, and affects the lives of those around her, including the reader.  I enjoyed the way Atkinson drew the reader into the story.  Ursula and her family are not aware of what is happening, but eventually she understands.  The novel explores the idea of changing history: a person’s history, the immediate world, the world at large.  And what happens if someone has the ability to change history?  Do you take that chance?  For those of us addicted to Star Trek, we know all about the prime directive against changing any single moment in time.  This novel is not science fiction, but the idea is clear from one of Ursula’s first successful moments with her mother:  “Ursula opened her milky eyes and seemed to fix her gaze on the weary snowdrop.  Rock-a-bye baby, Sylvie crooned.  How calm the house was.  How deceptive that could be.  One could lose everything in the blink of an eye, the slip of a foot.  ‘One must avoid dark thoughts at all costs,’ she said to Ursula” (32).

“One could lose everything in the blink of an eye, the slip of a foot.”  There it is staring the reader in the face again; the age old conundrum.  Faced every day by each individual person, this idea takes on a new life in Wilder and Atkinson though eighty six years separate the publication of these two books.  Wilder exploring the idea of who controls our fate, and Atkinson pushing it a bit further, if we have the ability, do we use it?  At what cost?

Looking for a novel with a happy ending: a feel good ending?  Do not read this novel.  But if you are a reader like me, a reader who wants to be disturbed by what is read or at least pushed to think about unanswerable questions, read Kate Atkinson’s Life After Life.  Like The Bridge of San Luis Rey, this is a novel I will read again. 

Atkinson, Kate. Life After Life.  New York: Reagan Arthur Books, 2013. Print.

The Bridge of San Luis Rey

We have literature forced on us for inexplicable reasons, but what we take away from the text is lasting.  Revisiting a work at the right moment in our lives is the pivotal key to understanding.

Back in the late 1980s, I was teaching at the high school level.  New to the district, I explored the storage locker in my room for class sets of books to use with my classes.  I was always willing to take a chance with something I had not previously taught; hence, my first experience with The Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder.  I do not remember how I convinced myself it would be worth teaching to 10^th graders or if I asked any of the other teachers about it.  Perhaps it was the length that enticed me.  For whatever reason, I gave it a try.  They hated it; I hated dragging them through it; I never taught the book again.

A few years ago while reading the works of Timothy Findley, he discussed his friendship with and admiration for Thornton Wilder.  My respect for Findley sent me back to revisit Our Town and read Wilder’s other plays.  Eventually I decided The Bridge of San Luis Rey deserved another reading.  Ever since then I have wanted to use it in a college course, and this semester has given me my chance.

Reading it for the third time, I savored the language and Wilder’s ability to create a text that has the tone of a moral fable with the occasional playfulness demonstrated in his plays.  The novel begins with this famous line: “On Friday noon, July the twentieth, 1714, the finest bridge in all Peru broke and precipitated five travelers into the gulf below” (5).  And thus begins Brother Juniper’s interest in the event.  “Why did this happen to those five? . . . .Either we live by accident and die by accident, or we live by plan and die by plan.  And on that instant Brother Juniper made the resolve to inquire into the secret lives of those five persons, that moment falling through the air, and to surprise the reason of their taking off” (7).  Wilder often writes of those moments; those “if not for this” moments in life.  This novel explores that issue and weaves around it the entanglements of love.

However, there are still those humorous moments, and this description cries to be shared in its entirety:

There is something in Lima that was wrapped up in yards of violet satin from which protruded a great dropsical head and two fat pearly hands; and that was its archbishop.  Between the rolls of flesh that surrounded them looked out two black eyes speaking discomfort, kindliness and wit.  A curious and eager soul was imprisoned in all this lard, by dint of never refusing himself a pheasant or a goose or his daily procession of Roman wines, he was his own bitter jailer.  He loved his cathedral; he loved his duties; he was very devout.  Some days he regarded his bulk ruefully; but the distress of remorse was less poignant than the distress of fasting and he was presently found deliberating over the secret messages that a certain roast sends to the certain salad that will follow it.  And to punish himself he led an exemplary life in every other respect (80-81).

And yet…none of my college students could tell me what they knew about the archbishop when I asked.  Sigh…well, I have again forced a piece of literature on my not so captive audience that they do not find as enthralling as I do.  Some students have shown interest during discussion in class and have even stopped by my office. They did accept the assigned topic of writing a two page paper on what they learned about love from reading this novel as doable.  I am looking forward to reading those papers.

Is this novel about a priest desiring to scientifically prove the power of God? Is the question of why these five answerable?  Is it possible that the reader needs to have lived through one of those powerful “if not for this” moments in life to appreciate this novel?  Is it meant to be another opportunity to explore the mysteries of love?  If you have not yet read this Pulitzer Prize winning novel, I encourage you to do so.

Wilder, Thornton. The Bridge of San Luis Rey. New York: Perennial Classics, 2003. Print.

A visit to Ireland...before the month of March has passed.

The dilemmas of writing a book review...what does one do when reviewing the work of a friend?  It is impossible for me to act like I don’t know Kay Thomas, but I believe my readers will trust me when I say she has a lovely gift for writing.

Last summer, Kay Thomas took her first trip without a traveling companion and was a bit nervous about it.  Since returning, many friends have asked her to write about her trip to Ireland.  Imagine, writing by popular demand, that is not an easy task.  So why does A Smidgen of Irish Luck: A Woman’s Musings on her Travels to Ireland read like it flowed off the pen effortlessly?

The first thing that struck me while reading this travel memoir was her concern over traveling alone.  As someone who usually travels solo, I have more problems adapting to a traveling companion.  But Kay has always struck me as a strong and independent woman, so it was odd to read:  “On top of it all, there is a constant nagging sensation about going it alone.  I use a mantra that will be invaluable through out.  Whenever I get panicky about a trip on which I have paid out hundreds of dollars, I say it over to myself. ‘You can do it’” (11).  And she did; in fact, she has planned another solo trip for this year.

One of the first essays in this collection is “Marking Time in 26D.”  I really enjoyed her ability to become a seat number on the flight over.  “A half look from busy flight attendants greets me at the open plane door…26D will be served two meals and occasional water service.  That’s their obligation.  No more. No less” (13).  What an enlightened way to travel.  Why set yourself up for disappointment with expectations and a heightened sense of self?  Excellent.

Reading of her travels, I found myself wanting to be with her or perhaps, feeling I was with her.  It surprised me that when visiting the grave of W.B. Yeats:

I have the spot to myself and pay my respects while the tumbling clouds of rain play tricks back and forth between the streaks of sunlight.  Such a life in Ireland, and it permeates into the soulful truths of the great thinkers. 

Cast a cold Eye

On Life, on Death

Horseman, pass by!. – W.B.Yeats  (51)

Whether looking for a four-leaf clover or deciding against kissing the Blarney Stone, Kay Thomas’ trip around Ireland has a place in my heart.  Perhaps it is the booklover in both of us, but I was thrilled to read how she lingered in the library of Trinity College.  Perhaps you will savor tipping a pint or walking along and looking in the shops.  Whatever your interest in Ireland, it will appear in the pages of this book.

Thomas, Kay.  A Smidgen of Irish Luck: A Woman’s Musings on her Travels to Ireland. 2014. Print

Another YA mystery by Tim Wynne-Jones

                Tim Wynne-Jones is a gifted storyteller, and this novel is no exception.  The main character, Jim Hawkins, first appeared in a short story.  After his father disappeared, Jim lost his voice; he regains it in the short story, but Jim’s story is far from over.

                In The Boy in the Burning House, Jim and his mom are holding things together at the farm.  Ruth Rose is the stepdaughter of the local minister, Father Fisher, and she tells Jim that Fisher killed his dad.  Like Burl Crow in The Maestro, Jim Hawkins has much to learn on hisjourney toward adulthood, and Ruth Rose does not always seem to be the best influence.  Eventually Jim realizes there are clear steps to take:  “It was a day of nevers.  A day he would never forget” (182).

                And that’s it for this brief review.  I’ll be reading another novel by Wynne-Jones later this month.  Some of his novels are available in the United States.  If you know any middle school or high school students, I highly recommend Tim Wynne-Jones.

Wynne-Jones, Tim. The Boy in the Burning House. New York: Farrar, Straus and

          Giroux, 2000. Print.

The Maestro by Tim Wynne-Jones

            The Maestro was recommended to me as an exemplary example of Canadian YA literature.  It was awarded the Governor General’s Literary Award and is not disappointing.  Interesting plot, memorable characters, and a unique viewpoint leave me yearning to work with middle school students again in the pre-Common Core days.

            A third person narrator tells the story of Burl Crowe, a 14-year old abused boy living in an extremely rural area of Ontario, Canada, but the world is seen clearly through Burl’s eyes.    Living in fear of his father, Cal, with a mother who escapes to her prescription drugged world, Burl explores his world with distrust and hesitancy.  It is when he runs away and meets the Maestro that the world becomes more accepting of Burl while offering him more challenges.

            The novel begins with Burl following Cal to his secret fishing hole; unfortunately, it will not be a safe place for Burl.  After being discovered, Burl runs off and never turns back.  Music draws him to the unusual pyramid cabin in the woods, and the Maestro, Nathaniel Orlando Gow, begins an uneasy alliance with the young stranger.  For the first time Burl has a male role model who may not be ordinary but is not abusive, and the wisdom he shares is invaluable: “Perfection is really nothing more nor less than getting the results you desire.  That is never a simple business” (51). 

            No spoilers here, although it is killing me not to give more of the plot, to say more would be to say too much.  There are several adults who care about Burl and try to help him.  One section that I do need to mention, without revealing plot, is his first trip to Toronto.  Living in a rural area, I found the descriptions of his experiences to be eye-openers and true to life:

Burl saw in an hour more people than he had seen in his whole life.  His eyes smarted with the strain of seeing and the stinging stench of the yellow air.  His head ached with the blare and discord.  His feet ached with the unrelenting hardness of concrete…He had never seen a pigeon before.  He had never seen a bird with so little self-respect.  (138)

A few pages later this line actually caused me to stop reading, “There were black people there.  He’d never seen one in the flesh” (141).  If you have lived in a rural area in New York State, there are still children able to have this experience.  With my understanding of northern Ontario, Wynne-Jones helped me experience Toronto in a new way outside of my experiences without being offended or feeling the story was dated.  It could still happen.

            The world of Burl Crow changes greatly in this novel.  At the end, a young man is emerging with a better understanding of his past, and a clearer vision of his future.  And I am already reading another YA novel by Tim Wynne-Jones.

Wynne-Jones, Tim. The Maestro. Toronto: Douglas & McIntyre, 2000. Print.

Half-Blood Blues by Esi Edugyan

This novel has been on a shelf since August 2012 and was recommended by my friends at Fanfare Books, Stratford, Ontario, Canada.  It was a finalist for several awards including the prestigious Man Booker Prize and was awarded the Scotia Bank Giller Prize for 2011.  Earlier reviews mention the beauty of the language and compare Edugyan’s use of dialect to the talents of Mark Twain. This year it is one of the novels chosen for Canada Reads, and that is why it finally got the reading it deserved.   Esi Edugyan has created a masterful tale bringing to light the world of Jazz in Europe during the horror of the Hitler years.

            From the liner notes: “Paris, 1940.  A brilliant jazz musician, Hiero, is arrested by the Nazis and never heard from again.  He is twenty years old.  He is a German citizen.  And he is black.  Fifty years later, his friend and fellow musician, Sid, must relive that unforgettable time…”  Passions fill this story: for Jazz, for life, for love, for success, but it is the realness of the characters that stands out for me.  Hiero, Sid, Chip, Pau, Ernst, and Delilah are real – REAL.  The friendships in this novel demonstrate love and betrayal.  The reader’s loyalties are tried along with the loyalties of the characters.  Along the way the reader is immersed in the experience of living in Berlin and Paris during the beginnings of World War II.

            Hiero is a black German unable to get papers in Hitler’s Germany, while Sid and Chip, originally from Baltimore, have been friends since childhood.  And the novel is not just about being black in Germany, “Cause blacks just wasn’t no kind of priority back in those years.  I guess there just wasn’t enough of us” (77).  But the friendships are uneasy in this novel and music, talent, and the love for one woman, Delilah, cause conflicts and jealousies.  Introduced into this world is Louis Armstrong, and his interest in this group of Germany based jazz musicians becomes an integral part of the controversy.  The recording of a song entitled “Half-Blood Blues” becomes an obsession for Hiero, and disc after disc is destroyed until Sid slips one in his vest: “…and it was like I could feel the damn disc just sitting in there, still warm.  I felt its presence so intensely it seemed strange the others ain’t sensed it too.  Its wax holding all that heat like an altar candle” (5).

            To say much more would give away too many moments I do not want to deny to anyone who chooses to read this book.  Just one teaser without spoiling anything, the trip to the zoo in Hamburg gave me a picture of life in Germany, not a result of Hitler but predating his power, a picture I wish I could erase from my mind’s eye.  Read it.

Edugyan, Esi. Half-Blood Blues. Toronto: Thomas Allen Publishers, 2011. Print.

Summing up 2013...

Well, I am almost finished reading another book and have decided to just post a list of the books I read but did not review in 2013.  If anyone would like to know what I thought of a particular book, please comment below or message me on Facebook.  I have rated them on a 1-5 star system with 5 being outstanding.  Bear in mind that if I start reading a book and do not like it, I do not finish it.

1. Pope Joan by Donna Woolfolk Cross - There is a historical basis for Pope Joan, and Cross has convinced me she existed. 5 stars
2. Basket Case by Carl Hiaasen - If you have never read one of his novels - either YA or adult - you owe it to yourself to read something by Hiaasen.  Good example of dark humor.  5 stars

Three Plays by William Shakespeare - no idea how many times I've read these over the years.

3. Measure for Measure 

4. The Merchant of Venice

5. Othello

And I do love reading the Harry Potter novels again and again...whenever needed.

6. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
7. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
8. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
9. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
10. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

11. In the Shadow of the Ark by Anne Provoost - This was not one of my favorite reads; a good subtitle could be Sex in the Shadow of the Ark.  3 stars
12. Shylock: A Legend and Its Legacy by John Gross - An excellent study of the character of Shylock in performance through the ages.  I highly recommend this piece of literary criticism.  5 stars
13. The Turning Place by Jean E. Karl - A YA novel.  Interesting piece of science fiction with "notes" at the end that add a level to the novel.  More appropriate for a stronger reader.  4 stars

Classics I Return to When in Need of Comfort Reading

14. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

15. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

16. Woe Is I: The Grammarphobe's Guide to Better English in Plain English by Patricia T. O'Conner - I actually read the first and third editions of this book.  It is excellent.  5 stars

17. I, Iago by Nicole Galland - A wonderful novel creating a life story/background for Iago.  I read this after reading and seeing Othello this summer.  5 stars

18. Glaciers by Alexis M. Smith - I loved this short novel, but I read it in September and neglected to take notes.  I'll be reading it again.  4 stars

19. Hanging by a Thread by Monica Ferris - One of a series of cozy mysteries by Ferris.  4 stars.

20. Understanding Rhetoric: A Graphic Guide to Writing by Elizabeth Losh, Jonathan Alexander, Kevin Cannon and Zander Cannon - Actually read this book several times and am using it as the text for my Freshman Composition class.  I love it.  5 stars

Graphic Novels

21. In Me Own Words by Graham Roumieu

22. Bigfoot I Not Dead by Graham Roumieu - Both of these are adult dark comedy.  4 stars

23. Blankets by Craig Thompson - Blankets was recommended by the American Librarian Association as one of the outstanding books for YA the year it was published.  This is a wonderful coming of age story for a young man, Craig, as he emerges from a childhood of conservative Christianity.  It would be nice to read this and The Fault in Our Stars with a class sometime.  Definitely 5 stars

24. Trickster Native American Tales: A Graphic Anthology edited and compiled by Matt Dembecki - Interesting collection of Trickster stories each with a different storyteller and illustrator.  5 stars

25. House Made of Dawn by N.Scott Momaday - I had never read this Native American classic and would love to have the opportunity to discuss it with other readers.  Challenging.  3 stars.

26. The Middlesteins by Jami Attenberg - This novel grew on me as I read it.  4 stars

27. Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloane - I loved this novel!  5 stars

28. Everything's Eventual 14 Dark Tales by Stephen King - And every one of these stories is a winner.  5 stars

29. Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo - A modern classic that I had not read.  Knowing the basic story line, I did not expect to be as moved by it as I was.  5 stars

30. Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination by Toni Morrison - A piece of literary criticism published in 1992 based on a series of lectures she had given.  It discusses how the presence of blacks affected the literature of the United States.  5 stars

31. Summer's Lease by John Mortimer - A delightful mystery set in the hills of Tuscany.  5 stars

Three YA novels by Michael Bedard

My blog will be jumping back and forth between what I am currently reading and what I read last year…at least for a while.  This entry begins my 2014 reading journey, so I will begin with an explanation of how the journey started.

            In my blog of 7 January, I mentioned the category system I used over the past several years to encourage reading on different topics, by different authors, fiction, non-fiction, etc.  Although the system served its purpose for at least five years, my compulsion to fill each category sometimes sent me on a frantic search through my collection as the year drew to a close.  This year I decided to start with something easy, recently acquired, and calling to me from the shelf: Redwork by Michael Bedard. 

            My first experience with Bedard was in 2012 when I read The Green Man and quite enjoyed it.  I am still drawn to YA books and love exploring the works of Canadian writers.  I will admit the title and cover called to me while in Fanfare Books; it was encouraged by my interest in Green Man mythology.  The book, a mystery involving time travel and magic, stands well on its own, but I discovered it was actually a sequel to an earlier book.  Finally this December I acquired Redwork, not the book I was looking for, and then found a used copy of A Darker Magic, which is now out of print.  And this experience is part of what I find important about my reading: one book leads to another.  Sometimes the connections are obvious, but other times the link of cause and effect is tenuous.

            Redwork was in my hands on the first day of 2014, and so my reading year began; this novel is the winner of the Governor General’s Literary Award, the Canadian Library Association Young Adult Book Award, and a co-winner of the IODE Book Award – National Chapter.  I never expected to be reading a mystery with a parent finishing up her dissertation on William Blake and an elderly man seeking to create the Philosopher’s Stone. 

            Cass is a young teenage boy struggling to help his mother survive on her part time cleaning job.  The novel begins with their move to a second floor apartment in an old house facing a park.  Cass is immediately interested in the mysterious unseen landlord living in the first floor of the house.  A gang of bullies rules the park, people seem to avoid walking on the sidewalk in front of the house, and as the plot line unfolds, Cass begins to see the suspicion surrounding the mysterious landlord Mr. Magnus.  It is a world filled with pain, both physical and emotional.

            Cass connects with Maddy, a girl down the street, and together they befriend and work with Mr. Magnus.  But the novel also has well-thought out subplots.  Cass works at the local movie theatre for another recluse who loves old films.  And there are the strange connections between Cass and Mr. Magnus; he hears old songs played on the phonograph directly below his bedroom:

He stared up at the crack snaking its way through the ceiling, following it from where it began as a tiny trickle of dark just above the bed, watching it widen as it went, till by the window it disappeared down a ragged hole in the chimney flue.  It had become a nightly ritual.  Following it, he seemed to fall asleep through that hole…but it seemed now that he was looking down on it from a great distance, and the crack was like a cleft of darkness snaking through a countryside.  Downstairs the music died.  He felt himself drifting downward, ever downward, saw the crack yawn open under him, and felt the darkness draw him slowly in” (51).

It was as I read these words that I realized how much the writing had pulled me into that room.  Bedard’s writing encourages a visceral experience. 

            The physical and emotional pain in this novel is frequently from bullying.  Perhaps I was more attuned to it having just finished reading The Fault in Our Stars, but this line in particular heightened the importance of the pain each character was feeling: “It was a funny thing with pain, the way it sort of wrapped you up in itself” (131).  And yet, this mystery ends happily. 

            Immediately after finishing Redwork, I began reading the mystery that inspired The Green Man: A Darker Magic.  Written in 1987, three years before Redwork, Bedard has some interesting parallels: magic, time travel, garages used for mysterious purposes, dysfunctional families, and a loner as the main character – quite independent and willing to take rational risks.  He obviously has the middle school audience in mind.

            But despite the similarities, this novel has a strikingly different tone.  Emily Endicott, like Cass, is about 14 or 15.  She is responsible for babysitting her three younger siblings, but her summer is changed when her teacher, Miss Potts, calls with a question.  Did she see the old paper in her desk advertising a magic show?  And so the mystery begins, with memories of a magic show for Miss Potts that seemed to spell death for the children involved.  And this year, August 8 is again a Saturday.  Magic, a magician who apparently defies time, and in a separate story line, two boys who know about it but are not in contact with Miss Potts all working, wondering about, and moving forward to the special night.  Unlike Redwork, A Darker Magic has a truly chilling ending.

            Now jump forward to Emily Endicott as an old woman learning to trust her niece, Ophelia Endicott.  Ophelia, or O as she prefers to be called, is another independent young teenager pulled into family responsibilities.  Emily became a poet, and finally returned to Caledon, where she obtained a part time job and later bought a bookstore: The Green Man.  As a poet, Emily creates a strong poetry section in the store and there are references to William Blake, Arthur Rimbaud, Emily Dickinson, and Ezra Pound.  Again Bedard’s interest in poetry is in evidence as O’s dad and Emily’s brother, Charles is a college professor in Italy for the summer researching Ezra Pound. 

            One of the things I enjoy about all three of these books is the timelessness of the setting.  Although there are references to dates, the novels lack the obsession with mentioning every current gadget that may be available.  It works as comfortable anachronism for me; a reviewer on Goodreads found this extremely frustrating.  However, I can imagine Bedard receiving letters from readers of A Darker Magic asking for a sequel and his desire for the connection of an elderly person connecting with a teenager:  it is a method employed successfully in all three novels.

            And in the end of The Green Man, O learns, “It was her business now to believe – in the power and beauty of words, in the spirits that move among us always, in the worlds of light and dark that neighbor us – to believe in the possibility of the impossible” (304).

            Michael Bedard creates an imaginative magical world but never loses sight of educating the reader of the source and/or history behind the story: people trying to create the Philosopher’s Stone, understanding the pain of a war veteran, learning the Green Man mythology.  He is an author I’ll return to…

Bedard, Michael. A Darker Magic. New York: Avon Books, 1989. Print

---. Redwork. Toronto: Stoddart Publishing Co., 2001. Print

---. The Green Man. Toronto: Tundra Books, 2012. Print.

A Memoir and Two Autobiographies...

For the past several years I have challenged my reading selections by creating categories and reading several books from each category.  This idea came from my use of library thing.com: in 2012 and 2013, I chose 12 categories with the plan to read at least six books for each one.  Using the categories, I enjoyed the way they forced me to think about what I was reading in new ways and see the connections between the books I read.  Because I did not write reviews over the past few months, I am posting comments on these books by categories.  Perhaps some of my readers will also enjoy seeing the flow of my reading.  I did not read one category at a time; however, as the year drew to a close, I did attempt to complete each one.

Each August during my annual pilgrimage to the Stratford Festival, I always make several stops at Fanfare Books on Ontario Street.   I have followed this bookstore through two locations and owners; it is my favorite bookstore.  This past year marked my 40^th year of annual visits to “Fanfare.”  Over the years I have developed an addiction to books written by Canadians.  Although some writers, like Alice Munro and Margaret Atwood, are readily available in the United States, many are rarely found here.  There are several Canadian writers whose work I purchase without hesitation; one is Helen Humphreys.  This past August two of her books made their way back to Dansville; Nocturne:  On the Life and Death of My Brother took my breath away.  Part of the attraction for me was the affinity I felt for her; reading her description of her relationship with her brother, I knew it as I know the feelings I have toward my own brother.  Although my brother is not a professional musician, his love and talent for music is strong.  Her reflection on the death of her brother was poignant and profound:  “Maybe when you died what left your body, following the last few staccato beats of your racing heart, the last harsh gasping of your breath, was not so much your soul as the last true notes of you” (91).  I want to listen to my brother’s notes for many more years.

Humphreys, Helen. Nocturne: On the Life and Death of My Brother. Toronto:  Harper Collins Publishers Ltd., 2013. Print.

                

                I am not sure when I purchased Dreaming in Color by Kaffe Fassett, but it was the first time I saw it advertised on Amazon.  Fassett was the first person to truly inspire my knitting, and he continues to do so.  When I first started knitting, all I wanted to do was plain stockinette: knit on one side; purl on the other.  I did not want to learn any other stitches like cabling or lace – just simple combinations of knit and purl.  Then one day I saw a book of knitting patterns by Kaffe Fassett, Glorious Knits.  Here was a treasure trove of gorgeous colors and patterns and designs.  All I had to do was knit on one side and purl on the other; I had no idea the technique with multiple yarns was called Intarsia, and far more experienced knitters felt it was too hard.  I just started knitting his patterns. 

                I met him once at a book signing in Rochester, NY held in a yarn store.  I was wearing one of his basic striped sweaters that I had knit.  I was astounded because there were many women in line, and none of them wore a sweater of his design.  He was very gracious and complimented me.  On my way out a woman stopped me to say she thought I was very brave to wear my sweater.  I told her how surprised I was to be the only knitter wearing a Fassett design.  She said most knitters were too nervous about their knitting to wear one in front of him.  I discovered when reading this book that was his first book tour, and he was nervous and overwhelmed by the reaction. 

                What I enjoyed about this autobiography was the choice Fassett made: he focused on his love of color.  I learned of his life including his family, upbringing, and education, but the focus was on color and how he sees it.  I learned different ways to look at the world around me.  The book is filled with color photographs and reassured me that my love of mixing colors is a creative gift.  It reminded me of William Whitehead’s Words To Live By.  Whitehead’s memoir focused on his love of words.  Neither book became a gossipy sounding, too personal expose.

Fassett, Kaffe. Dreaming in Color An Autobiography. New York: Abrams, 2012. Print

Finally the last autobiography I read in 2013 had been on my shelf since 2005.  I saw it on display at Borders and remember thinking it would be a good book to share with middle school students.  The Story of My Life: An Afghan Girl on the Other Side of the Sky by Farah Ahmedi with Tamim Ansary is not a great book, but it is an enlightening true story with an inspiring inception. 

When ABC News’s Good Morning America asked its viewers to write essays describing true-life experiences about romance, adventure, loss, and overcoming tremendous odds, the network never imagined receiving more than twenty thousand pages of inspiring, heartbreaking, and hopeful stories.  But that’s exactly what happened.  After a panel of bestselling authors and editors chose three finalists, America was given the opportunity to vote on which aspiring author would have his or her story published. (Back Cover)

I learned about life in Afghanistan from a girl who feared the Taliban.  As a child Farah Ahmedi was injured in a bombing incident and lost a leg.  She was taken to Germany for treatment.  After returning to her war torn country, she later lived through attacks that killed her father.  Her brothers disappeared.  She was forced to fend for herself and her mother. 

                When she describes the difficulties of wearing a burkha, which she calls a chadri, it is horrifying.  “That mesh at eye level lets you see only what is straight ahead of you.  You cannot really look down at your feet, and you have no peripheral vision….You have to study the path ahead and memorize the landmarks, because as you move forward, the path disappears from view into the blind spot near your feet and on your two sides” (98).  Imagine having this challenge in addition to a prosthetic leg.

                As soon as I finished reading this autobiography, I googled her name and found a video of the speech she made when becoming a citizen.  Hers is a remarkable story and definitely accessible to younger readers.

Ahmedi, Farah with Tamim Ansary. The Story of My Life: An Afghan Girl on the Other Side of the Sky.  New York: Simon Spotlight Entertainment, 2005. Print.

"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings." Julius Caesar (I.i.140-41)

For about a year I've heard people talking about John Green and how much young people love his books.  People raved about Looking For Alaska, and I was tempted to start with An Abundance of Katherines...then someone said, "Start with his newest book: The Fault in Our Stars."  John Green has a new fan.  In the back of the "Exclusive Collector's Edition," Green answers some questions readers have posed on his website.  When asked about the title, Green responded:

There’s a moment in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar when one Roman nobleman says to another, “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.”  And in the context of the play, that quotation makes perfect sense—these two guys did not suffer some unjust destiny; they made decisions that led them to their fates.

However, that quote has since been decontextualized over and over and used universally as a way of saying that the fault is not in the stars (i.e., fate/luck/whatever) but in individual people.

Well, that’s ridiculous.  There is plenty of fault in our stars.  Many people suffer needlessly not because they’ve done something wrong or because they’re evil or whatever but because they get unlucky. (4)

Green creates a world in which two teenagers, both dying of cancer, meet in a support group and fall in love.  However, the novel is so much more than a love story and certainly not meant to simply pull at the reader’s heartstrings.  It is about taking control of our lives and being strong while needing the support of others.  Hazel is an only child who sees the pain and sacrifices of her parents and worries about them.  Augustus has a brother but also knows the special ties that bind him to his parents. 

Early on in the novel Hazel says, “That’s the thing about pain.  It demands to be felt” (63.)  She has learned to live through it.  She earned her GED and is attending college classes, but she knows what the treatments have done to her and lugs an oxygen tank with her – a literal lifeline.  And as one character says, “There is no honor in dying of” (217).

There is so much more to this novel including a novel that is Hazel’s obsession.  And I never give spoilers.  The Fault in Our Stars has been made in to a soon to be released movie.      I will NOT see it.  Having seen a movie poster, I fear it will be the new Love Story: a sappy tear-jerker romance.  The story in my mind is the one I want to remember.  I do not care who plays Hazel or Augustus…read the novel.  Savor the intertwined strands of real life and the important characters not mentioned in this review.  Read The Fault in Our Stars.

Green, John. The Fault in Our Stars. New York: Dutton Books, 2012. Print.

Welcome 2014!

Well...I made progress in 2013.  I reviewed the books I read for just over half of the year, and then lost the momentum somehow.  I read 70 books...not the 75 I hoped for; however, reading Robertson Davies helped me understand what kind of a reader I am.  I am not a person who reads just for the sake of reading or to be entertained.  Writing reviews also reinforced or clarified something I had been telling myself for years, I am not interested in writing a novel.  I enjoy writing about reading and writing about writing.  I enjoy writing about the works of other authors.

This year I intend to write a review for every book I read...that is my only resolution.  I will also take the time to recap some of the books that did not get reviewed in 2013.  My first review will be published tomorrow and will be of the last book I read in 2013:  The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.

I hope that those of you who started to read my blog in 2013 will continue on my journey, and I hope that a few more people will join me on my journey.

Happy New Year!  I am currently reading Redwork by Michael Bedard.