There's something special about reading a book in which the characters are experiencing nature's worst, getting frostbitten, being bitten by malarial mosquitoes, falling down mountains. The nice part, for the reader, is the fact that he or she is usually sitting in a warm room, in a comfortable chair, usually with a hot or cold drink at the ready. I really enjoyed reading Into The Silence: The Great War, Mallory, and the Conquest of Everest, by Wade Davis. It's not really an ideal book -- it's far too long, goes into almost exasperating detail, and the author tends to repeat himself a lot -- but for a reader who craves vicarious adventure, it is irresistible. The lengthy backstory, while unnecessary, does give the reader a great deal of insight in the motives and behavior of the climbers who so disastrously attacked Mt. Everest in the early 1920's. Davis spends a great deal of time and detail on the Great War experience (or lack thereof) of the climbers. It's patently obvious that this had a massive impact on each one; he does not spare his reader on the bitterness and futility of the British soldier's experience. I found it interesting, but it can be safely skipped by a reader who wants to cut to the chase -- the three attempts on Everest.
Through ignorance, stupidity, pride, and sheer klutziness, the expeditions are not successful. The death toll was significant in today's reckoning (at that point in time, deaths of natives were not quite as important -- an avalanche that cost seven Sherpas their lives was reported at the time as, "all whites are safe"); several members of the expedition who should not have been fit for travel at all died en route or on the way home. Mallory and Irvine, in their third assault on the summit, disappeared. Mallory's body was found in 1999.
If you're going to attempt the above, it's a good idea to read Into Thin Air at the same time. By Jon Krakauer, it tells the story of the 1996 Mt. Everest climbing season, which ended in the deaths of eight climbers. It's a good companion to the Davis book, as is this Youtube video which addresses the mystery of whether Mallory and Irvine actually reached the summit. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nBH6NeyFpw&feature=related
The next selection I read this week I absolutely could not put down, and it's been a while since I could say that about a book. The Mirage seems to be a typical alternate history-type book with a political agenda, but turns out to be more like a fantasy novel. By Matt Ruff, this book sucks the reader into a world in which 9/11 never happened, and the world is completely different. I'll admit that when I first began reading, I assumed that the author had a political message, but that's not the case. I can't say much about the book, because so much of what makes it gripping is its unexpectedness, but I found it very satisfying indeed.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
You Can't Win Them All
Shortly after I finished my previous post, I came across a new book by an author whose previous book was critically acclaimed. Of course, I immediately took it out and began reading it. Alas, it's difficult to churn out magnum opus after magnum opus, as City of Fortune: How Venice Ruled the Seas proved. By Roger Crowley, the author of Empires of the Sea, this new book seems to be merely a magazine article plumped out by arcane factoids. Empires of the Sea was a masterwork illustrating the lever on which the fate of the western world turned; City of Fortune is a biography of a city (a beautiful and important city, but just a city).
I had a similar experience with one of my favorite mystery authors, P.D. James. She recently published Death Comes to Pemberly, presented as a murder mystery sequel to Pride and Prejudice, and I was very anxious to sample it. Well, after a long wait, it became available and I read it in one sitting. What a disappointment. Not only is it mostly a rehash of Austen's original work, with little original material, the mystery is not terribly mysterious. I'm not in the habit of trying to figure out the endings, but I had the culprit, the situation, and the deadly secret all figured out halfway through the book. Stick to Adam Dalgliesh, P.D. James.
I did manage to find some decent reading material, however. Turn Right at Macchu Picchu, by Mark Adams, is a nonfiction account of his travels in Peru, combined with a history of the discovery of several hidden Inca cities. The Inca still inspire fascination; a mountaintop people, rich in gold, who fought bravely and to no avail against the Spanish conquistadores. Adams includes the story of Hiram Bingham, whose (pigheaded) determination led him to the discovery (and, possibly, pillaging) of these beautiful and mysterious empty cities. The writing is readable and comfortable, and Adams is even humorous at times, calling to mind Bill Bryson's brand of travel writing.
Last of all, I'll come to this week's fiction selection. It gets more difficult to find decent fiction every week; if any of you have recommendations I'll be thrilled to try them. This book, The Flight of Gemma Hardy, is by Margot Livesey, and I started reading it without looking at the blurb at all. I think it actually made the reading experience more interesting, because it wasn't until chapter two that I realized that this is a book written exactly in the pattern of Jane Eyre -- and it's meant to be a "homage and modern variation" of it.
Jane Eyre's story lends itself well to parts of Gemma's life tale, but other parts make less sense. This story takes place in the modern era, and situations in Bronte's book that were obviously morally problematic seem less so here. Nevertheless, it's a good read.
I had a similar experience with one of my favorite mystery authors, P.D. James. She recently published Death Comes to Pemberly, presented as a murder mystery sequel to Pride and Prejudice, and I was very anxious to sample it. Well, after a long wait, it became available and I read it in one sitting. What a disappointment. Not only is it mostly a rehash of Austen's original work, with little original material, the mystery is not terribly mysterious. I'm not in the habit of trying to figure out the endings, but I had the culprit, the situation, and the deadly secret all figured out halfway through the book. Stick to Adam Dalgliesh, P.D. James.
I did manage to find some decent reading material, however. Turn Right at Macchu Picchu, by Mark Adams, is a nonfiction account of his travels in Peru, combined with a history of the discovery of several hidden Inca cities. The Inca still inspire fascination; a mountaintop people, rich in gold, who fought bravely and to no avail against the Spanish conquistadores. Adams includes the story of Hiram Bingham, whose (pigheaded) determination led him to the discovery (and, possibly, pillaging) of these beautiful and mysterious empty cities. The writing is readable and comfortable, and Adams is even humorous at times, calling to mind Bill Bryson's brand of travel writing.
Last of all, I'll come to this week's fiction selection. It gets more difficult to find decent fiction every week; if any of you have recommendations I'll be thrilled to try them. This book, The Flight of Gemma Hardy, is by Margot Livesey, and I started reading it without looking at the blurb at all. I think it actually made the reading experience more interesting, because it wasn't until chapter two that I realized that this is a book written exactly in the pattern of Jane Eyre -- and it's meant to be a "homage and modern variation" of it.
Jane Eyre's story lends itself well to parts of Gemma's life tale, but other parts make less sense. This story takes place in the modern era, and situations in Bronte's book that were obviously morally problematic seem less so here. Nevertheless, it's a good read.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
For Downton Abbey Watchers
The latest new series, now being shown on PBS, is a series called Downton Abbey, set in the years leading up to and including the Great War. With a screenplay written by Julian Fellowes, it features a very Upstairs, Downstairs-like storyline, focusing on both the upper crust characters and the people who live to iron their shoelaces and bring up their tea. Although it is a bit ridiculously soapy, it has become extremely popular watching for those who love gorgeous costumes, divine interiors, and the wonderful Dame Maggie Smith. When it's over, one immediately goes into withdrawal, so here I am with a proposed antidote.
For watchers who want more of the atmosphere of the times of the Great War, take a look at the Loss of Eden series by John Masters. This may be hard to find, as it's out of print, but your local library should have it. It begins with Now, G-d Be Thanked, and it is a trilogy featuring a series of families in Kent, their servants, and their experiences throughout the war. It reads an awful lot like Downton Abbey, and some of the situations are just as ridiculous.
Love the servants' hall? Try Below Stairs, a memoir by Margaret Powell, a woman who spent most of her life "in service." Unusually articulate, Powell paints a vivid picture of life belowstairs, and does it with a great deal of charm and humor. The Remains of the Day, a novel by Kazuo Ishiguro, also paints a vivid picture of the life of a butler whose life has been dedicated to the service of a somewhat delusional master, but it's a much darker picture. (This has also been adapted as a movie, which is not bad).
If you want the laughs, P.G. Wodehouse's Jeeves novels are the way to go. Bertie Wooster, Jeeves's master in name only, is ridiculously simpleminded, and his silly escapades always lead to a conclusion where Jeeves, the perfect servant, saves the day.
Oh, and if you want something else to watch: Julian Fellowes wrote the screenplay for Gosford Park as well. Also the Upstairs, Downstairs type theme, also Dame Maggie Smith, but it's a murder mystery. Great fun!
For watchers who want more of the atmosphere of the times of the Great War, take a look at the Loss of Eden series by John Masters. This may be hard to find, as it's out of print, but your local library should have it. It begins with Now, G-d Be Thanked, and it is a trilogy featuring a series of families in Kent, their servants, and their experiences throughout the war. It reads an awful lot like Downton Abbey, and some of the situations are just as ridiculous.
Love the servants' hall? Try Below Stairs, a memoir by Margaret Powell, a woman who spent most of her life "in service." Unusually articulate, Powell paints a vivid picture of life belowstairs, and does it with a great deal of charm and humor. The Remains of the Day, a novel by Kazuo Ishiguro, also paints a vivid picture of the life of a butler whose life has been dedicated to the service of a somewhat delusional master, but it's a much darker picture. (This has also been adapted as a movie, which is not bad).
If you want the laughs, P.G. Wodehouse's Jeeves novels are the way to go. Bertie Wooster, Jeeves's master in name only, is ridiculously simpleminded, and his silly escapades always lead to a conclusion where Jeeves, the perfect servant, saves the day.
Oh, and if you want something else to watch: Julian Fellowes wrote the screenplay for Gosford Park as well. Also the Upstairs, Downstairs type theme, also Dame Maggie Smith, but it's a murder mystery. Great fun!
Monday, January 2, 2012
Reading My Way into 2012
This week turned out to be a bonanza, reading-wise -- nearly every book I brought home from the library was at least readable! I started with a nonfiction selection midweek (I try not to get into fiction during the workweek, because it doesn't do to get too attached when one is busy) called Cocktail Hour Under the Tree of Forgetfulness. By Alexandra Fuller, it is the companion book to Let's Not Go to the Dogs Tonight, and is a memoir of much of her life and her mother's life living as a white African. Nearly everyone in this book is certifiable, which is what gives the book its entertainment value. Yes, I know mental instability is no joke, but Fuller certainly seems to find a lot of humor in the rampant manic-depressive behavior of her relatives. Most of the book just verges on the unbelievable, but it's an engrossing read all the same.
Speaking of humor, I recently rediscovered a mystery series by Donna Leon that I'm finding hilarious. Her Commissario Guido Brunetti series, set in Venice, is full of Venetian atmosphere, as well as Italian in-jokes. I'm sorry to say that most Americans are not going to fully appreciate the humor; I think you really have to either be Italian or know Italian culture intimately to get the "laugh out loud" benefit of these books. However, they are written nicely, have interesting characters, and feature compelling mysteries that are not too complex to be solved by the reader. I'm currently enjoying Acqua Alta; I have no idea of the order in which they are written but it does not seem to matter.
If you enjoy the books of Fannie Flagg (previously reviewed here), you'll appreciate The Homecoming of Samuel Lake, by Jenny Wingfield. Set in the American South in the 1950's, featuring a cast of incredibly quirky characters, this book bears a great deal of similarity to Flagg's stories. One difference, however, is that while Flagg's villains border on the ridiculous, Wingfield's villains are far more seriously evil. There's a happy ending, but not quite as rainbow tinted as you'd find in a Flagg book.
I know you're probably waiting for this week's chick-lit selection, and here it is -- Kindred Spirits, by Sarah Strohmeyer. It has all the usual ingredients: four friends, martini recipes, memories, at least one family feud, and everyone has something to hide. The predictability is downright soothing. As an antidote, one can turn to a somewhat more literary selection, and this one comes with a pedigree. The Silver Lotus is written by Thomas Steinbeck, the son of John Steinbeck. Flipped open at random, this book seems as though it would be dreadfully boring, but attempt it from the beginning and you won't want to put it down. Oddly, the entire book is written as a narrative; there is no dialogue whatsoever. Steinbeck simply tells the story of Lady Yee, a very unusual Chinese woman of the turn of the century. This story is strangely compelling, even though it's not suspenseful or even exciting. I can't really explain it; perhaps talented writing is all it takes? Let me know what you think.
Speaking of humor, I recently rediscovered a mystery series by Donna Leon that I'm finding hilarious. Her Commissario Guido Brunetti series, set in Venice, is full of Venetian atmosphere, as well as Italian in-jokes. I'm sorry to say that most Americans are not going to fully appreciate the humor; I think you really have to either be Italian or know Italian culture intimately to get the "laugh out loud" benefit of these books. However, they are written nicely, have interesting characters, and feature compelling mysteries that are not too complex to be solved by the reader. I'm currently enjoying Acqua Alta; I have no idea of the order in which they are written but it does not seem to matter.
If you enjoy the books of Fannie Flagg (previously reviewed here), you'll appreciate The Homecoming of Samuel Lake, by Jenny Wingfield. Set in the American South in the 1950's, featuring a cast of incredibly quirky characters, this book bears a great deal of similarity to Flagg's stories. One difference, however, is that while Flagg's villains border on the ridiculous, Wingfield's villains are far more seriously evil. There's a happy ending, but not quite as rainbow tinted as you'd find in a Flagg book.
I know you're probably waiting for this week's chick-lit selection, and here it is -- Kindred Spirits, by Sarah Strohmeyer. It has all the usual ingredients: four friends, martini recipes, memories, at least one family feud, and everyone has something to hide. The predictability is downright soothing. As an antidote, one can turn to a somewhat more literary selection, and this one comes with a pedigree. The Silver Lotus is written by Thomas Steinbeck, the son of John Steinbeck. Flipped open at random, this book seems as though it would be dreadfully boring, but attempt it from the beginning and you won't want to put it down. Oddly, the entire book is written as a narrative; there is no dialogue whatsoever. Steinbeck simply tells the story of Lady Yee, a very unusual Chinese woman of the turn of the century. This story is strangely compelling, even though it's not suspenseful or even exciting. I can't really explain it; perhaps talented writing is all it takes? Let me know what you think.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Not Quite Chick-Lit, But Close Enough
I'm glad to have finally found some engrossing fiction; I was seriously contemplating burdening you all with a posting on a veritable doorstop of a book (Jerusalem: A Biography by Simon Sebag Montefiore. Fascinating, but not for the faint of heart). Fortunately, this week's random grab at the New Books section came up trumps.
First, Falling Together, by Marisa de los Santos. This looks a lot like chick-lit; the cover features a small cafe table with three teacups, two grouped together. The story itself is more complicated. Yes, there is an enduring friendship thing going on, as well as an on-again, off-again relationship complicated by custodial issues. The requisite cute-child-perpetually-wearing-tiara is present also. However, something about this book sets it (just a little) above that genre. Three friends meet at college. One is male, two are female. They share very little in terms of character traits, but Pen, Will, and Cat become fast friends. Fast forward a decade, and they are no longer in touch, and the reader does not discover why for many pages. There's friendship, trauma, travel, and enough humor to leaven the whole thing.
When I first opened the cover of The Time In Between, by Maria Duenas, I wasn't altogether sure that I would stay the course. The jacket blurb mentioned the Spanish Civil War, and that is a period about which much has been written, very little of it easily readable (think Hemingway, think Falangists, think various Communists and all the death and destruction and depressing ideology. What a bore. And I firmly believe that more people claim to have read Hemingway than have actually made it through an entire Hemingway novel). I was pleasantly surprised by this book -- it starts a bit slowly in a messy failed romance sort of way, but it turns out to be a really excellent spy novel. The main character, a Spanish woman called Sira at the beginning and Arish when she begins her career as a dressmaker/spy, develops quite a bit over the course of the plot. The book is 609 pages, which is a real treat -- when I am enjoying a book, I want it to go on as long as possible.
Last of all is a confection of a book that is more like a graphic novel than a work of writing. The Scrapbook of Frankie Pratt is exactly that -- a scrapbook. Circa 1920's dance cards, photos, advertisements, postcards, and typed commentary by the eponymous Frankie Pratt fill this book, as the reader traces her story from Cornish, New Hampshire, to Vassar, to Greenwich Village, to Paris, and then back to Cornish.
This is a book that can be read in one sitting (marvelous bathtub book), requires no intellectual exertion whatsoever, and has a movie-like happy ending. Didn't you love picture books when you were little? It's written (or should I say assembled?) by Caroline Preston. Enjoy!
First, Falling Together, by Marisa de los Santos. This looks a lot like chick-lit; the cover features a small cafe table with three teacups, two grouped together. The story itself is more complicated. Yes, there is an enduring friendship thing going on, as well as an on-again, off-again relationship complicated by custodial issues. The requisite cute-child-perpetually-wearing-tiara is present also. However, something about this book sets it (just a little) above that genre. Three friends meet at college. One is male, two are female. They share very little in terms of character traits, but Pen, Will, and Cat become fast friends. Fast forward a decade, and they are no longer in touch, and the reader does not discover why for many pages. There's friendship, trauma, travel, and enough humor to leaven the whole thing.
When I first opened the cover of The Time In Between, by Maria Duenas, I wasn't altogether sure that I would stay the course. The jacket blurb mentioned the Spanish Civil War, and that is a period about which much has been written, very little of it easily readable (think Hemingway, think Falangists, think various Communists and all the death and destruction and depressing ideology. What a bore. And I firmly believe that more people claim to have read Hemingway than have actually made it through an entire Hemingway novel). I was pleasantly surprised by this book -- it starts a bit slowly in a messy failed romance sort of way, but it turns out to be a really excellent spy novel. The main character, a Spanish woman called Sira at the beginning and Arish when she begins her career as a dressmaker/spy, develops quite a bit over the course of the plot. The book is 609 pages, which is a real treat -- when I am enjoying a book, I want it to go on as long as possible.
Last of all is a confection of a book that is more like a graphic novel than a work of writing. The Scrapbook of Frankie Pratt is exactly that -- a scrapbook. Circa 1920's dance cards, photos, advertisements, postcards, and typed commentary by the eponymous Frankie Pratt fill this book, as the reader traces her story from Cornish, New Hampshire, to Vassar, to Greenwich Village, to Paris, and then back to Cornish.
This is a book that can be read in one sitting (marvelous bathtub book), requires no intellectual exertion whatsoever, and has a movie-like happy ending. Didn't you love picture books when you were little? It's written (or should I say assembled?) by Caroline Preston. Enjoy!
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Back With Some Decent Reading
Sorry for the long break between posts; I hope to post regularly now that we're settling into a routine once more. I recently re-read a good book, nonfiction, by Alexander Stille. Best known for his book about the complicated relationship of Italy's Jews with the fascist regime, Benevolence and Betrayal, Stille also wrote a riskier and more complex book about Sicily's mafia. The book is called Excellent Cadavers, and if that sounds odd to English speakers, it makes a lot more sense in Italian. The "excellent cadavers" refer to the trail of murdered magistrates, prosecutors, law enforcement officials and politicians who had the nerve to challenge the mafia's boa constrictor-like hold on Sicily's infrastructure. Having insinuated their way into every profitable facet of life in Palermo, Sicily's capital, the mafia even had allies within the very organizations designed to combat its pernicious influence. If you enjoyed The Godfather (and that's one movie that is far better than the book) you will like this book; however, it makes the fictitious Corleones look like mildly criminal juvenile delinquents.
For those of you who read crime fiction, you have probably noticed the recent flood of translated mysteries from Scandinavian writers. Most popular seem to have been the series of three from Stig Larsson, whose predilection for graphic and gratuitous violence and detail is shared by nearly every other Scandinavian mystery writer I've sampled. Hence, I was pleased to read Asa Larsson's (I'm assuming she's no relation; it's a ubiquitous name up north) Until Thy Wrath Be Past. It's a nicely written and well-translated mystery with its roots in World War II era Sweden, and Larsson does not hesitate to dig up the painfully equivocal details of Sweden's relationship with Germany. It's a satisfying mystery in every way, once you get past the complicated names.
I've mentioned Leah Cypess and her popular Young Adult fantasy novel, Mistwood. This week I finally got my hands on Nightspell, her second book, and though I had to read it fairly quickly (my teenager was waiting to read it) I liked it a lot. I hope I don't insult the author if I say I enjoyed it more than the first -- somehow, Nightspell drew me more into the story and I liked the characters better. Perhaps it's just that I have an easier time dealing with ghosts than with shapeshifters. In any case, it's a good pick if you like fantasy, and I'd recommend it to teen girls as well. It's a pleasure to have female protagonists in fantasy stories who aren't waiting pathetically to be rescued.
For those of you who read crime fiction, you have probably noticed the recent flood of translated mysteries from Scandinavian writers. Most popular seem to have been the series of three from Stig Larsson, whose predilection for graphic and gratuitous violence and detail is shared by nearly every other Scandinavian mystery writer I've sampled. Hence, I was pleased to read Asa Larsson's (I'm assuming she's no relation; it's a ubiquitous name up north) Until Thy Wrath Be Past. It's a nicely written and well-translated mystery with its roots in World War II era Sweden, and Larsson does not hesitate to dig up the painfully equivocal details of Sweden's relationship with Germany. It's a satisfying mystery in every way, once you get past the complicated names.
I've mentioned Leah Cypess and her popular Young Adult fantasy novel, Mistwood. This week I finally got my hands on Nightspell, her second book, and though I had to read it fairly quickly (my teenager was waiting to read it) I liked it a lot. I hope I don't insult the author if I say I enjoyed it more than the first -- somehow, Nightspell drew me more into the story and I liked the characters better. Perhaps it's just that I have an easier time dealing with ghosts than with shapeshifters. In any case, it's a good pick if you like fantasy, and I'd recommend it to teen girls as well. It's a pleasure to have female protagonists in fantasy stories who aren't waiting pathetically to be rescued.
Monday, October 10, 2011
On the End of Children's Literature
No time for a post -- things are a bit hectic (in a good way) and I'll resume posting in a week or two. However, I read this New York Times article this morning, and it gave me food for thought:
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/10/opinion/no-more-adventures-in-wonderland.html?_r=1&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha212
What do you think?
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/10/opinion/no-more-adventures-in-wonderland.html?_r=1&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha212
What do you think?
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