The School of Essential Ingredientsby Erica Bauermeister

Genre: General fiction
Publisher, Year: Putnam, 2009
Other Works: Debut
Flags: Teen angst, tenuous references
Rating: A+, or Must Read Now!
Challenge: Library, Outdo Yourself
Premise: A collection of stories about people and food, and how they go together.

Another book club pick, The School of Essential Ingredients is Bauermeister’s breakout novel. This is a book for foodies, but unlike some novels, I felt like the author paid equal attention to her storytelling as to her obvious love of food. And to top it off, she’s also a talented writer. A joy from beginning to end--if you are looking for the perfect summer read, this is your book.

The book begins with a little background of the teacher, Lillian, who runs a cooking school out of her restaurant. As a girl, she uses food to lure her mother out of a deep depression, and as a result, cultivates a deep tie to cooking and knows its power to change people. Then, we meet several strangers who come together at Lillian's restaurant to learn how to make good food. Each brings a fresh perspective, each with a unique life circumstance. And Lillian, acting as a sort of food therapist, finds a way to bring out the best in each of her students, simply by getting them to cook.

When I read (well, read some) of Julia Child’s My Life in Paris, I thought I had experienced that rare quality that foodies love: the description of cooking and eating that stirs something in the soul, meaning the words not only make you intensely hungry, but also make you appreciate food more, make you want to spend some quality time with a crab or some pasta or the perfect white cake. But this book really hit a chord with me because Bauermeister was not only able to make me appreciate good food, she made me realize that food affects every part of life. Yes, yes, we’ve all heard the term “comfort” food, but this goes so much further than something deep fried and dripping in grease. This is food that heals, gives courage, offers a fresh start, makes us better people. Food can do all that? Bauermeister thinks so, and I believe her.

She also made me understand that it’s not just the eating of food, but the creation of different flavors and textures that makes the difference. The act of cooking is a sort of balm--a natural, intuitive way to tap into our inner selves and to share those secrets with others, to connect with people. Okay, now this is really waxing philosophical.

This author knows her way around figurative language.  I’ve never read such beautiful and uniquely correct similes in my life. Her figurative language expressed the emotion of the characters as perfectly as could ever be hoped for. My ears were thanking me with the passage of each one--to the point where I had to laugh and actually go back and read them aloud to myself. And there are so many. You’d think with such a repetitious writing style that the descriptions would become stale--a parody of itself. Couldn’t be further from the truth. The richness of the language was almost good enough to eat.

And Bauermeister is able to accomplish all this AND have a little fun, too. This book is packed full of little anecdotes, sometimes tragic, sometimes whimsical, but always full of meaning. Each student’s chapter is narrated personally, and that’s sort of a pet peeve of mine. I have to say that it does get confusing, keeping so many voices straight. However, this book is so endearing, I can’t say that I minded it much--except that I wish I could have been privy to more of the storyline with some of the characters.  We get to know each one a little, but none a lot. And because of that, I didn’t really feel like I knew any of the characters well. But for all its charm, I just can’t see that as a fault. Instead, I think the construction reflects the main intent: that each student in the class is like unto an essential ingredient. There are so many ingredients to discover, we can’t spend too much time favoring just one or two because it’s the diversity of flavors that make a dish delicious.

An absolute delight. If you are looking for a vacation or beach book--this is it. And you’ll be happy to know that even though it’s a light and easy read, it’s not just fluff. This book will leave a lasting impression, too.

The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes

Genre: Fiction
Publisher, Year: Knopf, 2011
Other Works: England, England and Arthur & George
Flags: Moderate language, Explicit references
Rating: A+, or Must Read Now!
Challenge: 100 Books
Premise: Prompted by a curious package, an older man reflects back on his life and some events of his youth that may turn out to be very different than he remembers.

I got this book for Christmas last year, with a nice little gift certificate tucked in the front cover. I always get nervous when I buy a book that I haven’t read before (even though this one was technically purchased for me). Yes, it’s true—I will go and buy a book after I’ve read it from the library. That way, I spend wisely! Anyway, this one turned out to be not worth the nerves at all. It was a beautiful masterpiece, in my opinion, and completely deserving of the Booker prize. That being said, and as much as youth is discussed in this book, I would not recommend this one for younger readers.

The book opens with a group of boys, Tony being our narrator, in high school, debating ideas and philosophy. One boy, Adrian, is clearly the intellectual superior, which makes him the most popular of the group. His comments are always surprising, and yet somehow, spot on. As the boys grow up and go off the college, they grow apart, but each one tries to maintain a friendship with Adrian, Tony included. Tony experiences new things in school, the most important of which is that he gets his first girlfriend. When these two worlds collide, it will set in motion a series of events that will end in tragedy, which will come back to haunt him in his later years, revealing new information that will grip Tony with the realization that things have not always been what they seemed, that perhaps even he is not the person he thought he was.

[Disclaimer: I’m not going to talk about the actual plot points of this book because I feel you have to read them as Barnes intended. There’s an itching temptation to give away too much. And I hope that will be enough to entice you read it yourself!]

I think this book starts out sort of ordinarily pretentious. Those opening pages resemble what some have related to Dead Poets Society, and I have to admit that they did conjure up those images: standing on desks, clapping in a circle, ripping out pages, opening young minds. But it soon takes a turn, and by the end, I could see how every paragraph, every sentence was meticulously chosen—every moment a meaning. Not a word was wasted. And meaning poured forth, like a river of truth.

I love Barnes’s thoughts on the young and the old. The audacity of youth: the innocence, the dreams, the freedom. And that is juxtaposed against the reality of old age: the ordinariness of life, when dreams fall away and the everyday takes shape. He calls it comfortable, peaceable. Tony chose the peaceable way, but in the end, did he choose comfort over fulfilling his potential? Or did he really never have a lot of potential in the first place?

When we are young, we want to believe we are special; we want to believe we are good. When we think back on our memories, we see ourselves in the critical light of the time. We don’t analyze our actions and decisions with the wisdom that age brings, nor are we in any way unbiased. And Tony gets to experience the unpleasantness of questioning himself, after all those years. Here he says of youth: “What you fail to do is look ahead, and then imagine yourself looking back from that future point. Learning the new emotions that time brings. Discovering, for example, that as the witnesses to your life diminish, there is less corroboration, and therefore less certainty, as to what you are or have been.”

And yet, time marches on. It continues forward no matter what our regrets or fears. Whatever we have done with our lives, ordinary or extraordinary or rash, it is done. One event follows another, and each domino falls. And all those events are gathered in to produce a person’s character. The problem is, that the discrepancy between what I think my character entails and what others do, can be vastly different. And as time goes on, as we’ve established it inevitably will, those memories get hazy and misshapen. How can we really be sure of anything? Even something as personal as ourselves? Our own lives? Who we are.

I am going to go so far as to say that this book is genius. It’s a short read but so packed with meaning, I am still reeling from it. I know it will merit rereads in the future and continue to become only that more valuable to me. Oh, and the other thing: I loved it. I absolutely loved it.

The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova

Genre: Fiction, historical mystery
Publisher, Year: Little Brown, 2005
Other Works: Debut
Flags: Adult themes, tenuous references
Rating: A+, or Must Read Now!
Premise: A young girl finds some curious, old documents, which point to the past. When she asks her father about them, she unknowingly re-engages a journey that began many years ago.

I’ve been wanting to read this one for a long time and finally got the chance to do it. I kept putting it off because of the sheer volume—it’s a heavy lifter, this one.  I do wish, however, that  I’d read it in the fall—it’s a perfectly creepy Halloween book. Perhaps I’ll tackle Bram Stoker’s classic next year?  Mmm, perhaps.

A historian’s daughter, who remains unnamed, finds a mysterious book and some old letters one day while looking through her father’s library.  Inside the book there is a woodcut of a medieval dragon with one word: Drakulya.  As she asks her father about the books origins, she learns the truth of her own origin: the circumstances under which her parents met, and the deadly journey they embarked on many years ago to uncover an ancient mystery.

First off, I loved everything about this book—every page.  Most of the book is written in letters from various sources.  You do have to suspend some disbelief in this because to read all those letters would have certainly taken up much of the searching time. But, in this, I am able to concede.  The book is too brilliant to be bothered by it.

You can definitely tell that Kostova is an academic—her detail-oriented nature is deftly demonstrated. She is nothing if not thorough.  And although I learned a lot more about medieval Transylvania than I really cared too, in the end, I found all that detail to really enhance the story. Until the end, you don’t see how that historical backdrop is necessary for the reader to really understand the characters—their motivations would be stilted without all that detail. And what characters they are.  I loved each one.  I read one criticism that said that the characters voices were not distinct enough (a common problem with multiple narrator novels), but I must disagree.  I found Paul’s voice to be very different from his daughter’s and completely separate from Helen’s or Rossi’s.  The characters in this book are very distinct.  Paul is your inexperienced, shy, sweet hero, caught up in something so big, yet he can’t abandon it. Helen, the cold, hardened woman, with brick-wall defenses.  The two of them, an unlikely team. And our brave narrator, naïve, yet bold—she never backs down—a little bit of both her parents. I loved every moment with each of them.  The title is still, as yet, puzzling to me. Not that it’s not fitting, but I’m still not sure who THE historian is.  Is it Paul, Helen, Rossi, Paul’s daughter?  Or is it the master himself? There’s no telling.

I haven’t said anything about the most important character: Vlad, himself.  Do you get to meet him in the flesh, horribly preserved? Well, you’ll just have to read it to find out.  But I can tell you this. Nothing about this book disappoints. Nothing.

The Gendarme by Mark T. Mustian

Genre: Fiction, historical flavor
Publisher, Year: Amy Einhorn/Putnam, 2010
Other Works: Debut
Flags: Adult themes, explicit references
Rating: A-, or Good w/ Minor Problems
Premise: An old man is troubled by disturbing dreams--memories of a past he has never known as a gendarme, forcing Armenians out of Turkey. As the dreams continue, he is given a full picture of a past life, including a beautiful Armenian woman, who he loved. As he comes to the end of what he remembers, he is left with many questions. Questions that haunt him.

I found The Gendarme equal parts interesting and disturbing. I knew nothing about the Armenian genocide, and although I was glad to be enlightened to those events, it was definitely a tough read. But, this book left such a lasting impression that I’m glad I kept enduring.

Emmett Conn fought in WWI and was injured. Through some sort of twist of fate, he ends up recovering and moving to the United States, and he gets married and has children—a normal, unremarkable life by many. However, in his old age, as he’s becoming ill, he is beset by strange dreams where he’s remembering a past life. At first, he can’t understand how the cruel gendarme from his dream, ushering suffering Armenians out of Turkey, could be him. But the dreams begin to paint a picture that he knows must be true. And at the center of these memories lies a beautiful woman.

I thought this was a creative plot line, and although not a page turner, it kept my interest as I was shifted back and forth between present and past. With the amnesia, we were able to get inside a war criminal’s head without the inherent evil and hate. This fact leaves the reader with a difficult conundrum: what to do with Emmett? Do we hate him, or can we forgive him? By all accounts, Emmett led an ordinary life after his accident, even a benevolent one, considering that he faithfully took care of his ailing wife for so long. But, after he comes to know of his past, and us too, it’s hard to look at him in the same way. And yet, he’s still the same person. That dichotomy is what makes him such an intriguing character. I wonder that the author is somehow illustrating that piece of human nature—that we all have this part of our personalities there, ready to be activated . . . or deactivated, as with Emmett. Are we all of us capable of such heinous crimes? No matter what good a person does in the world, could that same person be capable of the same level of action on the opposite, the evil, side of the spectrum?

And then there’s Araxie, this arrestingly beautiful Armenian woman. Emmett somehow comes to believe he must protect her at all costs. And his dreams do not put his mind at rest about what’s happened to her. What should he do with this information now, that he’s in his 90s? What could he hope to do for her now? How could he go his whole life long, practically, as one person, to find out that he’s someone else entirely. Someone who probably should have spent his life in prison. He is decent enough to know that. He hasn’t abandoned all the values and morals that govern human decency just because he once had none. And yet there are sparks in his character, in his sordid past, that make you stop and wonder where in fact he went wrong. What along his path led him to be vicious, when he is capable of compassion, at least in Araxie’s case. Perhaps compassion could only be compelled from him in the face of a strong and beautiful woman. Although if he was to be as he should have been, as a gendarme I mean, a pretty face should have only made him the more cruel. It is his love for Araxie that becomes his saving grace. It redeems him as a character. When normally I would find him repulsive, in fact it is hard not to do so, I find his determination to save one woman very courageous.

By the book’s description, I was expecting the main part of the text to be somewhat of a travelogue. For Emmett/Ahmet to find out his true identity and make for Turkey in search of Araxie. To spend weeks and months there, leaving no stone unturned, and then learn of himself and his past as he went from place to place. But, I have to say that I find Mustian’s creation much more realistic and meaningful. What Emmett spent his whole life looking for, his past, is both terrible and beautiful. It’s a perfect puzzle, one which he will never be able to untangle. One he can only vaguely believe. One he will always regret. Perhaps that is the reason his dreams make him act crazy.

I have to say, this book took dedication to finish. It’s none of it easy to read. I enjoyed the pace, although I found some parts starting to lag. Overall, I found it a very thoughtful read, and I’m sure I’ll be thinking about it for some time still.

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

Genre: Fiction
Publisher, Year: Amy Einhorn Books/Putnam, 2009
Other Works: Debut
Flags: Moderate language, Adult themes
Rating: A, or Great Read
Premise: A young college grad collects stories from black maids working in 1960s Mississippi. As she tries to work on the sly, conflicts arise.

This was a book club pick, and I was able to get it read right before the movie came out. I actually got the book at our Christmas party, so it was ready and waiting for me in hardback, which I rarely buy.

Skeeter, a level-headed girl who doesn’t quite fit in, returns home after graduating college. Even though her mother hounds her to get married and her friends seem interested in little else besides their families and the goings-on in their small southern town, Skeeter wants to be a “serious” writer. When she learns that her beloved maid has mysteriously quit without a word, she decides to look into it and finds inspiration. She decides to give the black maids in her town the chance to speak their minds and see their stories in writing. But as she works with the maids and tries to stealthily find a way to publish the book, racial tensions mount.

I quite liked this book. Although it wasn’t a page turner for me, I really fell in love with the characters, especially the two main maids, Aibileen and Minny. Aibileen is a simple and wise woman. She’s experienced her own personal tragedies, which although difficult, have solidified her trust in God and her belief in herself. She’s a courageous, yet loving woman. Where Aibileen is quiet, Minny is loud. They are opposites in many ways. Although Minny knows how to speak her mind, she is still ruled over by a drunken husband, who finds a way to take out his frustration on her. She’s the no nonsense sort, though she considers consequences, weighs their importance, and always sticks her neck out for those she trusts and cares for. For me, the topic of racial inequality holds so much suffering that Minny provided a level of vengeance that I found satisfying.

The only complaint I could have is a sort of perpetuation of the white savior attitude. But with this book, it’s hard to determine if it was intentional, or if that idea even fits as it does with other books and movies. The black characters are given a voice only through Skeeter, a white woman. However, she doesn’t doctor what they say or editorialize. Other than wanting their stories to be heard and wishing she could live in an equal world, I don’t know that she’s really swooping in to save the day. However, the maids are still maids, while Skeeter is trying to make a name for herself (in a way) through their sacrifice. And although the situation for Skeeter is uncomfortable, it’s nothing in comparison to what the maids have to fear. It’s just something that didn’t quite sit right with me.

This book has many narrators, which I think can sometimes be a mistake. But Stockett was able to create very different voices with each of the characters, so that each was distinctly recognizable. I really admire that ability and find it to be rare. The writing was very polished and felt true to life. Although I didn’t live through the time of civil rights, I felt I could relate to the characters and their experiences. Their voices resonated with me, each in a different way. Overall, a good experience.

The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold

Genre: General Fiction
Publisher, Year: Little Brown, 2002
Other Works: Lucky
Flags: Adult themes, tenuous references
Rating: A+, or Must Read Now!
Challenge: Countdown, Library
Premise: A young girl is murdered. She narrates the story, looking down from heaven on her family and friends as they cope with her loss.

I’ve been meaning to read this book for some time now, but I’ve been almost scared to pick it up, given the premise. I was afraid it would disturb me, in a Law and Order SVU–sort of way. Really, you can’t broach the subjects of rape and murder without disturbance, but I was impressed with Sebold’s take. She definitely pushed the envelope, but in a way that made life just that much more meaningful and precious. I still can’t stop thinking about it.

The book starts out with an introduction: “My name is Salmon, like the fish; first name, Susie. I was fourteen when I was murdered on December 6, 1973.” A sinking feeling of dread follows this proclamation, as we know when Mr. Harvey approaches Susie and asks her to follow him that she won’t be coming back. But, she knows it, too. As she relates the story, she tells us, in hindsight, what she should of done and how she should have acted, if only she’d known. It’s heartrending, it really is. And there’s nothing to be done to change it. Unfortunately, it won’t be the last time, as the reader, that you’ll feel the burn of regret. +/-

Susie finds herself in heaven after the tragic assault. She can’t help but look down on her family almost every moment, to see how they are coping and living their lives after her demise. They try to move on, to get past it, without forgetting Susie. But, Susie never gets any older, never says or does anything new--she’s simply a presence and lurks in the dark corners of their minds. It’s hard for Susie to watch and be able to do nothing--all while her killer runs free.

It’s a heart-pounding tale; one you will find yourself unable to put down or stop thinking about. Although this book centers around a terrible death, the story is really about life and family and loved ones. It’s about making connections with others. It’s about how sadness can break us, and then faith puts us back together. Those relationships are never quite the same, but they are significant because they were not easily formed--that’s what makes them lovely.

The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson

Genre: Fiction, mixed with fantasy
Publisher, Year: Doubleday, 2008
Other Works: Debut novel
Flags: Moderate language, adult themes, explicit references
Rating: A-, or Good w/ Minor Problems
Challenge: Countdown, Library
Premise: A young, handsome man drives off a cliff in a drug-induced hysteria. While in the hospital recovering from major burn wounds, he meets an charismatic and slightly off-kilter woman who claims she was his lover in another life.

I’m really at a loss as to what to say about this book. It’s vastly different from any other book I’ve read before. I picked it up on the recommendation of Ann of Books on the Nightstand, whose opinion I like to take when I’m in the mood for something different or edgy. This books satisfied both criteria.

The Gargoyle is narrated by a man who careens off the side of a cliff and finds himself in the middle of a horrendous car fire, which destroys much of his body. As he recovers, a mysterious young woman begins visiting him and telling him stories about 14th century Germany. The only catch is, she believes he is a character from her story, that they met and fell in love in a medieval monastery, and she’s been waiting for him to come back for seven hundred years. +/-

There is a stark contrast that comes to the forefront during the book, and I’m still contemplating its significance. Before the accident, the narrator was a pornographer, so his livelihood depended upon his sexuality. Not only as a profession, we learn, but for sport as well; meaning, his entire life revolved around sex—like someone with an all-consuming hobby, such as an unhealthy obsession with Star Wars or hobbits. Sex was his hobby, his profession, what he spent all his work and free time doing. However, after the accident, he is no longer capable of those things. Not only is his physical appearance considerably altered, but he has also suffered damage to essential organs for such a profession. Thus, his entire world has been taken away from him. Part of his discovery is thus tied up in how he is changed in the aftermath of the fire--how he is reborn. He has to find new things to live for, and it’s not an easy task. He feels the burning of intense desire without the physical ability to act on that feeling. In his struggle, he also feels a little seed of love take root in his heart.

The mysterious woman, Marianne Engel, becomes his self-appointed teacher. She reveals to him, in parts, a history he can’t remember. He finds out that his latest accident is not the first time he’s been burned, that his heart is ready to remember things he’s felt in past years, a past life. She teaches him through short parable-type stories: a girl in Japan, a Viking in Iceland, an Italian couple, and a husband lost at sea. Each of these stories are wildly creative and tragic, too. Marianne also has a close relationship with religion and God. She believes she has a calling from God to carve gargoyles--to release ugly monster from stone and give them a heart from her own chest. She takes it upon herself to rehabilitate the narrator from the prison he’s created of his heart. Marianne reads to him from Dante’s Inferno, which takes on special significance. The narrator believes his burns present a punishment for his way of life, but it seems also to take on the form of a type of cleansing, a healing power to the pain he ran away from.

I found the writing style to be rather scattered, and it was a slow read for me, not because it didn’t hold my interest, but because of the density of the plot and helter-skelter timeline. For me, it was a necessity to read the book in chunks, so I could toss each episode around in my brain and digest it fully before moving on. By the end, I couldn’t go back and pick out certain parts that made more sense because of the final revelations, but rather, it was like all the events felt like memories, and they converged to create an entirely unique experience. That’s not something you find often, and what was really brilliant about it was that it wasn’t hard. The text was nice and smoothly pressed. It rolled right off the tongue (in my mind’s inner “reading voice”).

Although it’s not one I would have ever picked up on my own, I really liked this book. And it can creep up on you the way some books do--a few chapters in, I wasn’t blown away. But somehow I found myself very involved without realizing it. It’s not for the faint of heart, I will say that. Our nameless narrator had a difficult and painful childhood. He’s also an ex-porn star and is hopped up on drugs when he takes that fateful tumble--not to mention the excruciating descriptions of his accident, injuries, and recovery. And the subject matter can be sometimes disturbing and graphic. Normally some of these things would have turned me off the book, but this time was different, and I can’t exactly put my finger on why. I don’t think this book is for everyone, but I’m glad it was for me.

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini

Genre: General fiction (historical slant)
Publisher, Year: Riverhead, 2007
Other Works: The Kite Runner
Flags: Adult themes, tenuous references
Rating: A+ or Must Read Now!
Challenge: Countdown, Library
Premise: Two Afghan women a generation apart find their paths converge in war-torn Kabul. Together they find strength to face the cruelty of unjust government.

I loved The Kite Runner when I read it a few years ago, although I regret to say for which I have never written a review. I would have thought it difficult to follow up such a book with another of equal significanc--but it seems an easy task for Hosseini. This book usurped my attention for about a day and half. Yes, folks, that’s how long it took me to read A Thousand Splendid Suns simply because I could not, I did in fact lose my ability to, put this book down. Besides eating and sleeping, I could think of nothing else. Don’t start reading this beauty until you’ve got the time to devote your full attention, well, unless you are a masochist, because I promise you, once you start, it will take an enormous amount of self restraint to stop. (Indeed, I found it impossible.)

Mariam is the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy man. Because of the shame of her birth, she is hidden away with her mother, who had been a maid in his house, in a small shack in the hills. She dreams of living with a big family and of going to school with her brothers and sisters who she will never get to know. +/-

One day, she gets the nerve to visit her father at his rich estate. Mariam could not imagine how one simple act would change the course of her life forever. Laila is an unique girl, marked for beauty by her unusually light hair and her quick and clever intelligence. She has a bright future and people who love her, although her life is not without its sorrows. But, when war comes and the turbulence of a country in chaos takes its toll, Laila will find herself in an impossible situation, with only one choice ahea--one that will take everything she has to give, and more.

This story is one about courage. The courage of women at a desperate and hopeless time. This book has enlightened me with an entirely new understanding of the word oppression. Ruled over by tyrannical husbands and then by an even more strict Taliban, the courage and endurance of the women of Afghanistan are portrayed through Mariam and Laila, two of the strongest characters I believe I have ever read.

War--it seems there are so many books written based on that topic. It is infuriating to read how the power of a few can wreak the utter destruction of so many. It seems so petty, so juvenile--like a few kindergarteners fighting over the blue crayon or who gets to be first in line at the drinking fountain. But, I have to say, whatever gross crimes were inflicted--and they were just that, not to be marginalized--they paled in comparison with what the Taliban can do. The Taliban took that Little Rascals saying, “Boys rule and girls drool,” to whole new heights. Heights I didn’t even deem possible--that such things could happen, it’s just beyond me.

Incredible, incredible book and not one to be missed. What a beautiful tribute Hosseini has paid with this work. Every paragraph testifies of the author’s respect and devotion toward his chosen subject. In such a time, in the face of all that they were made to bear, these women survived. They found a way to weather the endless night, until the sunrise--until a thousand splendid suns could warm them and bring light to their lives again.

Austenland by Shannon Hale

Genre: General fiction, classical twist
Publisher, Year: Bloomsbury, 2007
Other Works: The Goose Girl, Princess Academy
Rating: A+ or Must Read Now!
Challenge: Countdown
Premise: Unlucky in love, Jane Hayes is looking for a modern Mr. Darcy to jump from the BBC into her life. To get over her unhealthy obsession with one last hurrah, Jane spends three weeks in Regency England. Will she find her own Regency gentleman, or will she finally wake up and smell the stark scent of reality?

I was skeptical going into this book because I’ve been burned by other “modern-day” Austenesque books in the past. But, I still had some confidence because I’ve been wowed by Shannon Hale before. I thought, if anyone can pull this off, it would be her. I’m so happy to report that I was right! If you’re a Jane Austen fan and you haven’t picked this book up yet, don’t delay! Or even if you’ve only seen Austen movies or just heard of Colin Firth’s Mr. Darcy, you will be able to love this book. It was a dream from page one! This book is screaming to be made into a screenplay—any takers? +/-

Jane is your typical disillusioned thirty-something, tired of love and tired of men. However, there’s something a little different about her: she’s head over heels for a fictional character of the Austen conjuring, an obsession that’s bordering on neurosis. In other words, Mr. Darcy is taking over her life. If she doesn’t act fast, she’s going to turn into a puddle of longing remorse. Luckily, Jane’s got an observant great aunt who just happens to leave her the chance of a lifetime in her will—a chance to step into a real-life Regency existence.

Pure gold. Seriously. I loved every minute. Somehow Hale is able to take those contrived moments, those catch phrases, and turn them into something new and fun. It was like being swept away in the “Regency” experience without being completely immersed—something that can never happen when “playing” at something. And yet, the experience beings out real parts of Jane and changes her in real ways. The reality versus the illusion: that classic battle.

Nearing the end, I was so hoping for a twist, but I was totally unable to see where one could possibly come from. And then BAM! it shows up—Emeril style. And I had the urge to immediately start reading from the beginning all over again! It was absolute perfection. Perfection, I tell you! This is a must read. It will not disappoint! I polished it off in two sittings. A great read for a day off!

Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

Genre: General fiction
Publisher, Year: Farrar Straus and Giroux, 2004
Other Works: Housekeeping
Flags: Teen angst
Rating: A+ or Must Read Now!
Challenge: Book Awards III, Countdown
Premise: A loyal preacher comes to the end of his life and writes a journal for his young son to have as a legacy after he's gone.

I’d heard about Marilynne Robinson’s first book Housekeeping from the Books on the Nightstand podcast and became interested in her. So, when I signed up for the Book Awards Challenge, I decided to make Gilead one of my picks. Unfortunately, I didn’t finish on time, but better late than never! I find it fitting that the last book was the one I enjoyed the most.

Gilead is written as a journal from the perspective of Reverend John Ames. John has a heart condition and know he won’t live long. He married late in life, and so has a young son, about six or seven. And so, he wants to leave his son something of himself behind. Throughout the book, John chronicles the lives of his grandfather and father (who were also preachers), a difficult relationship with his best friend’s son (who was named after him), and his own sad first marriage, where his wife and daughter both passed away in childbirth. Set in Iowa, Robinson takes the reader through several generations of small town life in a turbulent world. +/-

I loved this book down to the final words. What’s so wonderful about this book is that it’s simplicity itself. It’s about a simple man who lived a common life and strived for a peaceful and meaningful existence. In that, there is great beauty and wisdom.

Through each generation, Robinson explores the friction that evolves between father and son. Although times change, relationships do not. As long as the world turns, conflicts will arise. And as long as conflicts arise, fathers and sons will have differing opinions and will hurt and disappoint each other. For example, at one point John reminisces about traveling with his father to find his grandfathers grave in another state. The journey was hard and long and they didn’t have enough food. But, the lessons he learned on the trip were what he remembered: that his father loved him and sacrificed for him. Even though he has many disappointments in his life, I think the uplifting moments are more sacred to him than any disappointments can dispel.

Ultimately, I think Gilead is a book about forgiveness—about acceptance. About leaving history in the past and looking forward to a brighter future. About letting our circumstances be what they are and accepting them with quiet and confident resolve. John’s voice is one that resonates in my head, though I’ve turned the last page—a true American treasure.

The Hours by Michael Cunningham

Genre: General fiction
Publisher, Year: Farrar Straus and Giroux, 2002
Other Works: A Home at the End of the World
Flags: Moderate language, Adult themes
Rating: A or Great Read
Challenge: Book Awards III, Countdown
Premise: Three women go through the events of their day--strangers, yet inexpicably connected.

I think if I’d read Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway, it would have enhanced my experience with The Hours, but having that background was not essential in falling in love with this carefully crafted novel. I love how the title is so fitting and significant. Everything about this book was just right for me.

The book focuses on the stories of three women, all which are told chronologically, although each woman lives in a different time: Clarissa, a forty-something woman looking after a dying friend; Laura, a young mother in the 50s; and Virginia herself, writer and tortured soul. Through the events of a single day, each woman goes about her duties—seemingly insignificant acts, daily events, nothing special. Cunningham very adeptly shows us that those menial moments that we plow through everyday reveal something within us, an inner commentary, a million daily decisions that shape and change who we are, how we live—and how we die. +/-

The book begins with Virginia Woolf’s suicide. (And, I have to say, if death is not an interesting literary topic for you, this book may not be your cup of tea.) The thing I really admired about Cunningham’s take is how his exploration of the meaning of death also accentuated, by showing it in relief, an exploration of the meaning of life. And without the push and pull of trying too hard. Our lives are composed merely and simply of hour after hour after hour. Some of those hours are filled with a rapturous joy, more are filled with sadness. How does that rapture measure up in conjunction with our miseries? How do we move from the sad hours to the happy hours, and what happens to us during those hours in between the tug-of-war?

Needless to say, Michael Cunningham is indeed a talented writer of prose. The language in this book took me to another place. I didn’t find it a page-turner, per se, but I was surprised when I turned the final page. That is to say—the story ran and I hardly noticed the speed. It is a somber work, but a delight just the same. A contemplative work of art.

The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood

Genre: General fiction
Publisher, Year: McClelland and Stewart, 2000
Other Works: The Year of the Flood, Alias Grace
Flags: Adult themes, Tenuous references
Rating: A or Great Read
Challenge: Book Awards III
Premise: An old woman reflects on her turbulent life and that of her ill-fated sister.

The Blind Assassin is the type of reading experience that becomes an event. Although it may seem like chaos at first, it’s actually a perfectly choreographed affair, with every moment accounted for. Atwood brilliantly weaves together several stories, which seem unrelated. It’s as if the author took an old woman’s last memoir, a science fiction book, a private journal, and a bunch of newspaper clippings and threw them up in the air, gathering them into one big mess. Then, slowly, they merge and line up in your mind, and their connections suddenly appear. Then, the jumbledness of the text emerges in sharp focus, and the mismatched accounts seem so correctly in their places.

The book begins with the unfortunate report of the death of a young author, Laura Chase. Then, an abrupt shift to a sort of stream-of-consciousness, third person view into a secret love affair--one of the pair a storyteller. The bulk of the book is told from the perspective of a woman in the twilight of her years, Iris, who feels it’s time to put her memories to paper. +/-

I enjoyed Iris’s voice, accepting yet vigorous and dripping with sarcasm. Although, in the end I hated her. Which is unfair, because the reasons I liked her grew out of the choices she made for which I hated her. I didn’t feel a particular attachment to these characters, but that didn’t take away from my experience with the novel, surprisingly enough. I don’t think the author wanted us to connect with them--it’s like she built a wall there intentionally. So that we could look over it secretly, so we could be conflicted.

I found myself completely sucked in by the science fiction side-story, “the blind assassin,” in a sort of gruesomely creative way. And--what sets Atwood apart from others as one of the greats--she expertly turns something detestable into a tribute of beauty and life and love. However, the main story, Iris’s reflections, proved to be equally as compelling.

Atwood is an amazing connoisseur of language--she wove a web of words for which I’ve never seen the like. She is an unforgettable talent. This book is truly a masterpiece, one I know I’ll be thinking about for a long time.

The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand

Genre: General fiction (philosophy)
Publisher, Year: Bobbs Merrill, 1943
Other Works: Atlas Shrugged, Anthem
Flags: Adult themes, Tenuous references
Rating: A or Great Read
Premise: A young architect, Howard Roark, has just been expelled from school because of his refusal to conform to “traditional” principles. He sets out to create his buildings according to his own conscience.

“My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.” – Ayn Rand

I can’t say a necessarily enjoyed The Fountainhead, but I didn’t dislike it either. At the same time, I’m not indifferent. It was difficult to follow, and painstaking at that. But, not in an unpleasant way. It was dense and filled with meaning, and that’s what makes it hard to read. I felt sometimes that the characters actions seemed reasonable, and at others, I could not understand their motivation. At those moments, I felt like I was getting lost in the plot—I was losing what was meant to be gained. That’s not to say the story was not interesting or captivating—it was both. I had to plow through it slow and steady. It made me think. It made me question. It made me angry. But was also satisfying. It was a tangle, but it was worth the time, for me, in the end. It’s a perfectly conflicting book.

First, there is Howard Roark. The opening scene details his expulsion from architect school. Although he is a gifted artist, he’s rejected for his nonconformity. Instead of compromising his designs, he decides to become an apprentice to another washed up architect, whose designs have also fallen from societal favor. +/-

Second, there is Peter Keating. He’s the brown-noser, the guy just looking to climb the proverbial ladder. He doesn’t care about his work; he just does it because he knows where it could take him in society. Third, there’s Ellsworth Toohey. He’s a reporter, and he’s out to get Roark. Fourth, there’s Wynand. He’s the newspaper’s owner. A powerful and influential man, who’s got the world in his pocket. And last, there’s Dominique Francon, a debutant and a siren. She’s searching for something, and can’t tell where to find it. Each one of these characters take turns in the spotlight as the story moves forward, and we learn about their dreams and failings, and we see their decisions, and sometimes they induce pride, but most often, disappointment.

Objectivism, the “philosophy” of which Rand speaks, is the soul of the novel. So, it’s helpful to have a good idea of what objectivism is before reading her works. That is something I did not do, and after I turned that last page, I wished I had. I think it would have helped me put the characters into a certain perspective—to interpret their actions and understand their motivations.

So, here’s my understanding in the briefest of brief overviews. Objectivism is a philosophy which defines the world in three terms, things exist, things have an identity (in reality), and we comprehend things. These can also be expressed as: something exists, something exists as this or that, and we understand something to be this or that. How do these axioms affect the world? In a few ways: 1) Truth can only be discovered through reason, not through faith or emotions; 2) Ethics are defined by man’s free will through productive work, romantic love, and art; 3) A free, uncontrolled pursuit of happiness is the ultimate goal, though the government must protect individual rights (violence, theft, etc). Rand does the best thing she could to make this philosophy come to live—she breathes it into a story, into human beings.

I don’t think you have to agree with objectivism to appreciate this book. I think in actual practice, objectivism is sort of impossible. It’s one of those things that’s better left in theory, in its purest form, and perhaps in stories of fiction, where you can control all of the variables. It’s an interesting idea, an unusual way to look at human existence—and I can respect it for that. It is a masterpiece, that cannot be disputed in my opinion.

In the end, I concluded that it’s the kind of book that can only be truly understood upon further research—although I am not yet to that point where I feel like tackling it again. For me, it was worth the read, but I don’t know if it’s for everyone. I’ve heard good things about Atlas Shrugged, another of her manifestoesque novels, and I would like to see what it’s all about.

The Thirteeth Tale by Diane Setterfield

Genre: Fiction - Mystery
Publisher: Atria, 2006
Other Works: Debut novel
Rating: A+, or Must Read Now!
Premise: Margaret Lea is a self proclaimed bibliophile and a great writer as well. She gets on offer to write the biography of a lifetime--that of Vida Winter, a wildly imaginative and eccentric author whose past is shrouded in mystery.

I read this book for a book group and really didn't have any expections going in. I was pleasantly "wow-ed" by this author!

The book carries a feeling of mystery and ominousness, ghost-story-around-the-campfire style, that I found quite thrilling. Because of this, the dialogue could seem stilted, but instead the author has used the language to create a foreboading tone. This is something I enjoyed all the way through the book to the very last sentence.

A young, nose-in-the-books daughter of a bookshop owner, Margaret Lea, receives a request to become the biographer of a prominent author, Vida Winter, whose life story has been sought after by many. She's a stubborn and harsh woman, whose piercing green eyes Margaret cannot seem to escape. As much as Vida's life story is shrouded in mystery, even more so is one of her books, which was reprinted as having 12 tales, after being published a few times claiming to have 13. And so, the 13th tale was never uncovered. +/-

As Margaret struggles through the research for the biography, she not only discovers the truth about Vida Winter and her tales, but also more about her own history. She gains insight into her own painful and complicated life as she pieces together the twisted past of a pathological liar, otherwise known as a storyteller.

Thrilling until the last moment with no lack of twists, I would recommend this book to just about anyone.

Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen

Genre: Fiction, slightly historical
Publisher, Year: Algonquin, 2006
Other Works: Riding Lessons
Flags: Moderate Language, Adult Themes, VERY Explicit References
Rating: B- or Not Sorry I Read It
Premise: An old man looks back at his summer with a traveling circus: tyrannical ringmaster, beautiful horse dancer, Rosie the elephant, cantankerous little person, and a thatch of bright red hair. Finally, one fateful night brings Jacob’s adventurous three months to an end.

I surprised myself with this book. I actually ended up quite liking it, although I enjoyed the second half much more than the first. Gruen is an amazing and talented writer—I thoroughly enjoyed her style. She has a great vocabulary. I just got the feeling that every word I read was distinctly and perfectly correct, like each word had been pored over and debated, until just right: baby bear’s chair to Goldilocks. It was really something.

That being said, she lost me in the beginning. She’s lucky I made it past the 4th chapter, which contains an all-too-well-documented strip tease. And there were several more speed bumps to hit before I felt I was home free. I don’t think authors realize the power of the imagination. I don’t get why everything’s got to be so spelled out all time. +/-

A perfectly beautiful story, ruined by gratuitous sex (yet again). I can get the picture without every gritty detail. And I suppose that was the point—to paint a picture of just how gritty “circus” culture was, but I get it already. Leave something to the imagination. I just don’t think it adds to the story. But, I have to admit that I’m glad I made it past. I really loved these characters. They were engaging and interesting, and terrifying. And I can’t say I’m sorry I read it.

I loved the frame story, I thought it added so much to Jacob’s character. To go back and forth also gave me some sort of relief, as young Jacob’s life became more and more turbulent, I knew old Jacob would be around the corner, tucked in his wheelchair with a little cup of Jello. It led me to believe that everything would be alright in the end, and I think that made it possible for me to become more invested in the story and allow myself to connect with the characters.

That being said, elderly Jacob is not at all content, and I think Gruen did an amazing job of describing that period of life when the body begins to fail while the mind is still sharp. It’s hard for me to imagine such a time, and I think it’s hard for any young person to really grasp what that must feel like. Gruen captured it perfectly, and the tragedy of old age became so tactile for me.

I really enjoy a book that explores the differences between illusion and reality, and how they can get tied up together and mistaken for each other. There was so much deceit and trickery surrounding these characters, sometimes it was hard to know which way to turn. I want to say that we’ve changed since then, that things are better now: that humans act more human. But, then, there is just as much greed and selfishness in the world today as there ever was. It just manifests itself in different ways. I guess the comforting thing about that is, that if there is just as much evil, there must also be just as much benevolence. There must be as many caring, generous people, too.

I think Water for Elephants, although brutal and cruel, also carries that message of hope. A hope for mankind, but also on an individual level, a Ulysses if you will. There is always an adventure waiting to be discovered, no matter how what the circumstances. Because of the explicit content, unfortunately I would not recommend this book.

Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen

Genre: Fiction, with a dash of fantasy
Publisher: Bantam, 2007
Other Works: The Sugar Queen, The Girl Who Chased the Moon
Flags: Adult themes, Explicit references
Rating: B-, or Not Sorry I Read It
Premise: Claire and Sydney are sisters. Claire’s the hermit type; Sydney’s the free spirit. Both sisters have one thing in common: they come from a family who has magical gifts, especially concerning their garden and its mysterious abilities. When Sydney comes home after ten years on the loose with her secrets carefully guarded, she and Claire must find a way to reconnect.

I didn’t love this book. And, I was surprised by that only because I’d read a raving review about it from a website I trust. So, I felt a little disappointed, but on the whole, it wasn’t a bad read. It just didn’t live up to my expectations.

The setting is North Carolina in a little town called Bascom. In this town there is a family, the Waverleys, who are known for their unusual backyard. After Claire and Sydney’s mother takes off, their grandmother raises both girls. She teaches Claire, the older sister, the trade of their family: making meals from their mysterious herbs and edible flowers. But Sydney is a free spirit, and she leaves as soon as she can after high school. One day, Sydney appears, after ten years of no word, with secrets to keep. +/-

I really enjoyed the pace of the novel and the characters. Claire is a reserved, emotionally stunted woman, while Sydney lives with her heart on her sleeve. The two of them together make an interesting pair. Their cousin, Evanelle, has an odd way of giving people things that they will somehow need in the future. She’s a quirky old lady who enjoys a “good male posterior.” Tyler, the Waverleys next-door neighbor, relentlessly pursues Claire, with his floppy hair and wide smiles.

I was intrigued with the first half, but unfortunately, the story began to take a turn downhill. The author did a great job of setting up tension and conflicts, but then bungled them in the resolution. One of the things I enjoyed most in the first half were Claire’s constant cooking and baking, involving potions to influence people one way or another (chamomile for laughter, violets for serenity). But this seemed to taper off, and I found myself wondering why the garden was no longer taking a front seat.

Overall, it was an enjoyable read, and the premise was very creative and appealing to me. But I felt the story needed a little more development and a lot more revision.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows

Genre: Fiction, with a historical basis
Publisher, Year: Dial Press, 2009
Other Works: Ivy & Bean series (Barrows)
Rating: A, or Great Read
Premise: On the island of Guernsey, a small place in the English Channel, a group of neighbors and their story of survival during the German occupation in World War II are discovered by an English writer on the mainland.

This was another book club pick, and it was well worth the time. If I could sum up this book in one word, I think I would have to choose charming. I’ve read a couple of books now in the journal/letter format, and it works for me. I heard it described as Austen-esque, and I think that is a very apt description, as letter-writing was also then taken as a serious and authoritative, and also sometimes humorous, form of communication.

Juliet Ashton wrote a regular newspaper column during the war. We meet her as she’s touring to promote a book made up of her collection of columns. She soon receives a mysterious letter from a man named Dawsey. He lives on the island of Guernsey—a small island located in the English Channel—and found a book that used to belong to Juliet. They strike up a friendship through letters, where she learns about the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society and becomes intrigued by it. She ultimately decides that she must go to Guernsey and make it the subject of her next book. While visiting, she meets in person that unlikely circle of friends she’s been corresponding with. She finds herself welcomed into a community of people who epitomize the pain and loss of war, the healing power of friendship, and the strength of the written word. +/-

I really liked the main character, Juliet. Although, I’ve read reviews of people who thought her shallow, I quite liked her quick wit and adventurous spirit. And, although Guernsey was a place of sad stories and hard times, it was also a refuge for a strange mixture of people, bound by the ties of true friendship and community. I loved the cast of characters in Guernsey and how they could still find reasons to smile and laugh. It reminded me of how people can become great friends even when they have nothing else in common except for being thrown together in the same place. I also loved how they used literature for an imaginative escape from their dreary reality. And, Juliet jumps into this world feet first. It’s like she always belonged there, like she’s coming home.

Elizabeth, a strong, creative woman and young mother, was sent away from Guernsey during the occupation before Juliet gets to meet her. Although she is not a “voice” in the book, her presence is expressed through each member of the Society. I think it could be argued that Elizabeth is the central character in the book, rather than Juliet, although Juliet is our heroine. It was Elizabeth’s bravery and lust for life that kept Guernsey going and fueled her neighbors’ dying hopes. In the end, I think that sentiment is the one that shines through: hope for Guernsey and for us, too.

It was a quick, easy read, and I really enjoyed every minute of it. I would definitely recommend this book.

My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult

Genre: Fiction, or Lifetime movie fodder
Publisher, Year: Atria, 2004
Other Works: Plain Truth
Flags: Moderate language
Rating: F, or Don’t Even Bother
Premise: Kate is sick. She has a rare form of leukemia, and no one can help her except a sibling. Kate’s parents have Anna, the daughter who will save their daughter. Anna faces difficult decisions as Kate ultimately needs a kidney transplant.

So, I've said before that's it's hard for me to go see a movie that's based on a book if I haven't read it. I don't know, it's like I feel like I'm robbing myself of that experience, which is usually better for me than the viewing one. Well, I've been cured of this neurosis. I guess, at least in this case, I'm so UN-tempted to see the movie now that I won't waste my money. I guess that's a plus.

My first experience with Picoult was a good one, with Plain Truth. I loved that story, and I’ve recommended it to so many people. This is now my second BAD experience with her, so that's it. She gets no more chances. (Time out for you!)

First of all, honestly I thought the whole premise of this book was sort of ridiculous. A couple has a daughter, Kate, who gets cancer. In order to save Kate, they have another child, Anna, (exact match to Kate) so that child can donate needed blood etc. Maybe it's plausible, I really wouldn't know, but it seems fantastical at best, to me. But, hey, I thought, I'll bite. +/-

Unfortunately, it only got worse from there. Not only is the quality of writing just plain bad, but the structure was a complete mess. The story just goes all over the place. Each chapter is narrated by a different character, which is confusing enough, but on top of that, each chapter rewinds to the past and fast forwards to present and future--rewind, fast forward, rewind, fast forward--until I had whiplash. This can be an amazing technique with more skilled hands, but unfortunately . . . Picoult—she just don’t got it.

Think it can't get much worse? Think again. Each character digresses with their anecdotes into completely worthless details that really don’t add anything to the story. I got so bored halfway through I just started skimming, trying to get to the meat of the story, which I’m sorry to say was somewhat unrecognizable. I can’t even tell you which characters bored and annoyed me the most because they were all about the same, just in different ways. I have one more word for you: cliché.

And then the ending . . . please. I won’t even go there. I’ll spare you. Just suffice it to say that this one should not be in your “must read” pile. If you really want to see the movie, be my guest, but don’t waste your time on the book.

Suite Française by Irène Némirovsky

Genre: Historical Fiction
Publisher, Year: Knopf, 2006
Other Works: David Golder
Flags: Adult themes
Rating: A+, or Must Read Now!
Premise: The book is written in parts and follows the stories of several people as they flee and cope with the German occupation in France. The author was captured and killed before she could complete it.

Honestly, this book took me quite by surprise. I had all kinds of ideas of how it would play out before I turned the first page, but it was so different than any other WW II book I've ever read. I really got lost in Némirovsky's language; I can hardly believe it was a translation.

At first, it was a little difficult for me to follow all of the characters and keep their stories straight, but once I was past the first few chapters, it started to come together for me. I hardly even know what to write, seriously this book has me sort of bewildered. All of the people she profiles in the novel are so different but at the same time so similar. Such a stark picture of humanity, showing the good and the bad, the pride and the humility, side by side and tumbled together. +/-

The thing I liked about Dolce was how confusing it was. How different people viewed the occupation and their motivations. That was one thing I think Némirovsky captured so perfectly in both parts of the novel: people's motivation and nature. The occupation was such an emotionally charged subject, I think the author expertly presented how muddled and complicated it was.

In a way, it seems right that this book was written during the war, and not altered (even though I still wish it could have been completed). It seems like reality tends to get distorted when it's reflected on from memory. It's human nature to want to think of yourself and your people as brave and strong. But this book reveals something more intrinsic to our core values, something more selfish and self serving, especially in such desperate times. Perhaps that's why heroism is so treasured in society—because truly there are few who, when faced with such dire tragedy, would act unselfishly. That's a strong bit of truth to swallow.

It was hard for me not to think about Némirovsky's untimely death as I was reading the novel. Really the most heartbreaking thing about this book is that it is unfinished. It makes me wonder how her book would have evolved had she been given the time to finish it. At one point in the book, Jean-Marie, during his rehabilitation, finds time to write:

He wrote with a chewed-up pencil stub, in a little notebook which he hid against his heart. He felt he had to hurry: something inside him was making him anxious, was knocking on an invisible door. By writing, he opened that door, he gave life to something that wished to be born. Then suddenly, he would become discouraged, feel disheartened, weary. He was mad. What was he doing writing these stupid stories, letting himself be pampered by the farmer's wife, while his friends were in prison, his despairing parents thought he was dead, when the future was so uncertain, the past so bleak?

When I read that I couldn't help but wonder if that was how Némirovsky felt about her own life, about this book she was working on. I think she must have worried that no one would read it. But, she had to give life to it anyway, because this story wished to be born. And, I'm so glad she did. If you haven’t visited this site yet, I strongly urge you to do so. =)

This is definitely one I think I will re-read in the future—there’s so much I think I missed in my whirlwind reading.

Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweetby Jamie Ford

To start off, I just want to say that I really enjoyed this book. I think Jamie Ford is going to be an author to watch! I’m interested to see what he will come out with next.

This book was real and poignant, but at the same time incredibly pleasant and satisfying. I suppose that’s why the title is so perfect. The bitter and sweet tied together—such is life.

The book is set in the 1980s, but switches to flashbacks of Henry’s life in the 40s during WWII. In his youth he meets a sweet Japanese girl named Keiko, and they become fast friends. However, the two are separated when the Japanese are sent to internment camps away from Seattle. Henry fights against his strict Chinese parents to see and correspond with Keiko, much to their dismay. Years, later, when some possessions from Japanese families are uncovered from the Panama Hotel, Henry begins a journey that will mend old long-forgotten wounds.+/-

I really enjoyed the characters in the book, especially Sheldon. He’s a jazz saxophone player, and he and Henry develop a close friendship. Since Henry’s parents have a hard time understanding him (figuratively and literally, since he is only allowed to speak English at home when his parents only speak Chinese), Sheldon becomes a sort of pseudo-parent. He is the friend Henry could turn to when the rest of his life was falling apart. I also liked Mrs. Beatty and Mr. Okabe and, of course, Keiko.

Ultimately, I think the message of the book focuses on the crucial relationship between fathers and sons, and how that relationship can be a difficult one to develop. I think it’s interesting to contrast the relationships of Henry and his father with that of Marty and Henry. It’s amazing to me how similar they are, especially since Henry resented his father so much.

Henry’s father is controlling and manipulative and expects him to follow a certain pattern in his life, a pattern ruled by his Chinese heritage. And although Henry resents his father, he feels the immense guilt heavily when Henry fails to please him. No matter what Henry does to fight against it, he ends up entrenched in his father’s master plan. The mother was always the connecting thread between them, although Ethel’s death brought Marty and Henry closer in the end, while I think Henry’s mother’s death would have had catastrophic effects on Henry.

And while Henry always hated his father’s dictatorship, he still perpetrated some of those same expectations on his own son, Marty. It was obvious to me that, even though he disagreed and fought with his father as Henry had with his, Marty still desperately wanted to please Henry. He wanted Henry to be proud of him and accept him. I loved how Henry’s standoffish behavior began to change as he finally understood that Marty viewed him as the same controlling figure that his father had been. And as Henry opened up to Marty and shared his life with him and as Marty did the same, their relationship began to change. I think Henry and Marty were both able to let go of pain as their respect for each other increased. It’s unfortunate that Henry and his father were never able to come to that sort of truce.

Switching gears, I think the book did a good job of highlighting the realities of the internment of Japanese-Americans during WWII. It’s not something I ever remember learning about in school; in fact, I don’t think I actually knew it even happened until I was in college. And although I am happy that something like this did not happen after 9/11, I think this book is a good example of how prejudice works when a country is at war. The fear that makes people do things they shouldn’t, and wouldn’t do, if they were in their right minds. It’s frightening to me to think that it’s so easy to be ruled by that fear, even an entire nation that stands on a precipice of freedom.

I researched a little about the internment after I finished the book, and it really astonished me just how many camps there were; how many people were displaced and their lives were destroyed so that they had to start all over from nothing again when they were released. Ford’s descriptions of Japantown really made this come alive for me—how it was still there but it was never the same. I loved the part where Henry goes looking for Keiko in Japantown, and he describes all the mayhem of the neighborhood, finally finding her in the park among the cherry trees. And then, how that bustling chaos of community was gutted and abandoned. Only to be rebuilt an entirely different way. It made me understand the loss in absence. Keiko and her family could go home if they wanted to, but they’d probably have to buy their property again, since it had been seized and re-sold, and their neighborhood would be completely different. That happy time could never be recovered.

In a way, I think Japantown represents Henry. It was bittersweet to see Henry change from a scared and uncertain little boy, to a curious preteen, to a stubborn teenager, to a quiet and accepting adult. He had to grow up fast; I think every child living in that time had to. And although Henry endures the secret stabbing pain of what ifs, his life is still a full and satisfying one, though tinged with a certain sadness of a life turned down a different path. Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet is just that, but the end is a gratifying one, and we are all reminded to take joy in the sweetness of life, no matter at what time or how hard or easy it is to find.