Ok, so I started a little after Lucy on this, so I’m catching up. Here are the books I didn’t write about, but I read, to finish up my 52 for the year:
44: Beginner’s Greek by James Collins – ok, but not on my must read list
45: The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton – excellent, read it!
46: The Weight of Heaven by Thrity Umrigar – I love her, but this book is a huge downer. Read it if you absolutely must read about someone with worse problems than your own, but it’s a train wreck of a novel.
47: Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens – Just want to say I was way ahead of Oprah on this call, as you will see further down. Though, in all fairness to ME, I read these before she said anything! (I’m not bitter, because really, you should read it. I just don’t like Oprah telling me to! Though do support Donor’s Choose, it’s one of Oprah’s best for 2010)
48: The Whistling Season by Ivan Doig – another one I have my book club to thank for. A real gem of a book, particularly if you were a fan of The Great Brain or Little House books as a kid.
49: A Memory of War by Frederick Busch – this was a beautiful, sad, complex book.
50: Great Expectations by Charles Dickens – see previous rant
51: City of Falling Angels by John Berendt – How did I miss this one before I went to Venice? Great true story.
52: The Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore – sad, hysterically funny and wonderful
I already started my 53rd book, Hotel at the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford – on my new Kindle! Yes. The world is coming to an end as you may have feared. I still have quite a few books on my shelf, and I will never stop buying books, but the new kindle is so cute! Anyway, thanks to anyone who read this blog, and for Lucy who inspired me to read all those books collecting dust on my shelf. I’ve missed Barnes & Noble, Shaws, & Bookends, but I see a light at the end of that bookshelf, so maybe I’ll be back soon! READ MORE BOOKS!
This amazing book is the story of a 5 year old boy and his mother, told in the voice of the boy Jack. We slowly learn that Jack and his Ma live alone in a 11X11 ft. room. Because he doesn't know why, we don't know why, they never go outside or see other people (except the mysterious Old Nick). This room and his Ma are Jack's whole life, he was born there and knows nothing else. She keeps his days busy with games and exercises and a little bit of tv ('so our brains don't rot'). I don't want to give away too much but when we learn, as Jack learns, why they are there your heart will start beating faster and faster and won't slow down until the very end.
This book is going to be the one that everyone talks about, book groups will choose it, Oprah will feature it (if she has the guts.. there is a thinly veiled Oprah-like character in the book who is not portrayed kindly)
So that’s that. ... I set out to read a book a week for a year and my year's up! Here they are...
Mudbound Half Broke Horses The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down America America Brangelina Last Night in Twisted River In a Perfect World Goldengrove The Lost Symbol The Good Life Remarkable Creatures Game Change Too Much Happiness A Wrinkle in Time & When You Reach Me Interpreter of Maladies The White Queen A Reliable Wife The Invention of Hugo Cabret Artemus Fowl The Pact Lift Sara’s Key Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter Little Bee Vanishing Acts The Time Traveler’s Wife A Gate at the Stairs Caught Infidel Imperfect Birds The House on Salt Lake Road Crossing to Safety Incendiary The Road The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest Operating Instructions Tinkers To Kill a Mockingbird Slow Love: How I Lost My Job, Put On my Pajamas and Found Happiness Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand Island Light Surfer’s Code: 12 Simple Lessons for Riding Through Life Gift From the Sea Freedom Salem Falls Anna Karenina The Art of Keeping Cool Three Cups of Tea A Secret Kept The Hour I First Believed Shadow Tag A Gathering of Old Men
When we lived in Charlotte, NC in the late 1990s an amazing and eye opening event happened one October day. We were invited to a work party with Jim's colleagues at a hunting lodge about 45 minutes outside of town, in the 'sticks' I suppose you could call it. It started in the afternoon and included dinner and partying into the evening (and no we weren't actually hunting).
As dinner wound up and the sun started to go down a few people gathered their things and got ready to go home. We implored them to stay and enjoy the nice warm bonfire. No, they said, incredibly matter of factly, they had to start heading out because they were black and driving nice cars and it wasn't 'smart' for them to be driving in these parts after dark. They would undoubtedly be stopped by the police they said shaking their heads. What was almost more disturbing to this northeastern raised girl, wasn't that they were going to be stopped (which believe me was horrific enough) but that they took it in stride, it was just the way it was in the South, perhaps the price they had to pay for daring to be wealthy African American bankers. This affected me for months afterwards (years I suppose, I still talk about it). In almost the year 2000 this was still happening in our country, anywhere in our country. It made me question our choice of places to live and help me decide we'd leave and move up north as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
I say this because when reading this incredibly moving and powerful little book it's hard to believe that Gaines' story took place in the late 70s and not the 1940s. It takes place in a sugarcane plantation in Louisiana where, while not technically slaves, blacks were beholden to whites for their jobs and their homes. They are beaten, lynched and humiliated for not 'behaving' the way they should. When the story opens a white man lays dead in the grass and when the sheriff is called to investigate he finds a young woman, Candy and about 20 old black men standing over him with guns, each confessing to his murder. They are there to protect one man, whom Candy, one of the owners of the plantation, was practically raised by. She is fiercely loyal and will not give in and let him be arrested.
The old men have spent their entire lives backing down and giving in. One tells the story of his young brother who was in a race with a white man.. "I saw my brother win that race. But he wasn't supposed to win, he was supposed to lose. We all knowed he was supposed to lose. Me, his own brother, knowed he was supposed to lose. He was supposed to lose years ago and because he didn't lose like a nigger is supposed to lose, they beat him. And they beat him and they beat him. And I didn't do nothing but stand there and watch them beat my brother down to the ground."
Many more stories come out of their mouths; of sisters who were raped, land taken away ... 'bused me if I did it right and 'bused me if I did it wrong - my whole life. And i took it. But this is their moment, they were done with running and ready to die over this, knowing that the white man who was murdered had a father who would be on his way to find out who killed his 'boy'.
I first read this book in college in the late 80s... 10 years after the events of the book and 10 years before our experience in Charlotte. It makes me wonder how far we've come, or not come. Eloquently written, this book should be a must read for everyone.
Erdrich's words don't often have a lot of flourish, she writes with an unrepentant view of life. This book is the story of the marriage of Irene and Gil. Gil is a somewhat famous Native American painter who has made his career from creating portraits of his wife, also part Native American. After years of living through a tempetious marriage, Irene has fallen out of love with Gil and after finding out he has been reading her diary she decides to keep two diaries: One for him to 'secretly' read and one she keeps in a safe deposit box. The latter of the two tells the truth, the former she uses to manipulate her husband into thinking he's reading secret things about her but in fact she is planting seeds to destroy their marriage.
They are set on a course of destruction that will affect their 3 children as well as their own fates. This book is relatively short in length but deep in detail of the ruination of two people and their marriage. Well worth the read.
As you may have guessed, I am a fan of many authors. When I was young, I would find one I liked and then read everything they had written; even the dreck they wrote before they wrote something great, the stuff that gets published after the writer becomes famous. I am not one of those people who reads the same book more than once. I would, but I have so many other books to read on that giant heap, and that just seems too decadent.
Years ago, Anne Fadiman wrote a small collection of essays called Ex Libris, Confessions of a Common Reader. When I read it, I was comforted by the thought that Anne’s family was even more obsessed with books and proper grammar than mine. I remember to this day the idea of her family sitting down to eat in a restaurant, silent until someone found the first typo on the menu. Sadly, I found this to be something we had in common, aside from her obsessive love of books. Anne is the daughter of Clifton Fadiman, who was an author, editor, radio and television host, as well as one of the original judges for the Book of the Month Club. Her perspective on things seems a bit skewed by the quiz show atmosphere that pervaded her growing up, but she is a likable geek, and she made me feel incredibly normal by comparison. I read this book twice, and recommended it to everyone in my family. (I have her other book, The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down on my pile to be read.)
This newer book, subtitled Familiar Essays, almost picks up where the other left off. In it, the author explains the familiar essay — where a critical essay depends on the author’s expertise (brains), and a personal essay on their experience (heart) — the familiar essay attempts to have equal amounts of both. Fadiman’s brains seem obvious to me, especially in her vast vocabulary that made me wish I had the kindle with the built in dictionary. (What else would I expect from a family that loves sesquipedalians, or very long words?) Her heart is clearly involved, on topics ranging from butterfly catching, ice cream, coffee and arctic explorers. People familiar with Ex Libris will remember her obsession with the arctic, from the “odd shelf” in her library.
This was a tiny book, but not really a quick read. Her essays are filled with facts; I had to stop myself from telling my husband all about it as I read, since I want him to read it next. The design of the book itself is familiar, following the layout of Ex Libris. The illustration and design also call to mind my cherished little set of Winnie the Pooh books. It cries out to be held in your hands and enjoyed. Save the Jonathan Franzen for the kindle.
Big book. Literally and in scope. Weighing in at 740 plus pages I thought it would be a challenge to read in a week but turns out.. not so much. This is the story of Caelum and his (3rd wife) Maureen, he's a high school teacher and she's a school nurse. They have left Connecticut to start a new life in Littleton, Colorado, where they both get jobs at Columbine High School. While Caelum is back in CT tending to his dying aunt, Maureen is at school on that fateful day in April of 1999 when Harris and Klebold unleashed their devastating fury. (As an aside, a few years ago I poured through the book, Columbine by Dave Cullem, an almost minute by minute account of the tragedy, not for the faint of heart but an excellent read, giving some understanding to the tragedy)
Maureen was in the library that day, where some of the worst killings occurred, hiding in a cabinet, fearing for her life.. Caelum rushes back not knowing if she is dead or alive. Lamb uses this real tragedy, with real names and facts, along with his fictional characters to great effect. Instead of creating a Columbine-like school shooting, he has chosen to take on what really happened, to give faces to the victims and make their stories real again for us, 10 years later.
Maureen is shaken and in great pain, emotionally and physically after what happened to her, so the 2 of them hobble back to CT to take over his aunt's farm and to try to recover. With their marriage barely surviving and Maureen hooked on pills to numb her pain, their story takes twists and turns, ending up with Maureen in prison for vehicular manslaughter and Caelum on his own on the farm, eventually taking in Katrina 'refugees' as tenants and learning about his roots and family history.
I loved this book, so many timely topics and such thoughtful writing... It's been a while since I've read a Lamb book (in fact this one took him 10 years to write), well worth the wait and obvious struggle for him to produce this gem.
I first read about this book in the NY Times Book Review earlier this year, and I quickly added it to my list of books I would buy if I finished my huge pile of too-be-read books. Ok, so I cheated. When I saw this cute little hardcover half price at the Barnes & Noble, (you might ask why I was here if I’m not buying books… for the coffee? Never mind.) I had to buy it. For one thing, this is the kind of book that makes me think the idea of a kindle will never work for me. It is, in fact, almost the same size as the kindle, a relatively small little hardcover that just makes you want to hold it in your hands and read. Maybe if hardcover prices hadn’t doubled in the last ten years or so, people would be reading them instead of kindles, I don’t know. This book, all 237 pages of it, was originally priced at $23.95, which sounds kind of steep to me, but like I said, it really is adorable and it was half price. (yeah reviewer’s copies!)
Anyway, I cannot begin to explain this book. It is magical and romantic — all the things I hoped the Time Traveler’s Wife would be with half the pages and none of the confusion. It is the story of generations from decades and centuries past, told through the relationship between an Iraq war veteran and his physical therapist. Besides the detail that he fought in Iraq, there is no political statement in this book. You will travel back to ancient Turkey, and dance to the music of Count Basie at his 1936 Roseland debut. You are going to need to suspend your cynicism reading this, (there are many unexplainable things) but you will not regret it. Try this: call next Saturday a “lazy day” for your family, and tell everyone to grab a book, or a ball, or a fluffy pillow, and then run off and read (uninterrupted) this gem of a book.
This book was one of the few book purchases I made since attempting to tackle my giant too-be-read pile. When I had to admit that the summer was actually over, I wasn’t sure if I should skip this one and just wait till next summer. But, when I decided to read it anyway, I realized that the story seems to have an appropriate “the summer is over” feel to it after all.
I don’t like to summarize, but a quick description will do. Griffin is a college professor who prefers to consider himself in light of his past semi-glory as an L.A. screenwriter. But he is living in Connecticut now, for many years in fact, happily married to Joy. He has raised a beautiful and caring daughter, Laura, and done his best during their marriage to avoid two things: his parents and Joy’s. He has prided himself on the fact that he has done the opposite of his snooty college professor parents — um, wait a minute, didn’t I say he is a college professor? Oops, try as he might, Griffin realizes that in running away from his parents, he has become them.
I chose this book because really, what could be more fun than a book by Richard Russo set in Cape Cod? Having gone there for a few vacations myself as a child, Russo’s vivid descriptions brought me right back. Griffin and his wife have gone to the Cape to celebrate Laura’s friends wedding. As is typical, their own marriage is cast against the light of the others assembled — the newlyweds, the newly engaged Laura, the single guy who can’t get a break, and the unhappily married couple they share the meal with at the “leftover” table. (love this description for the motley crew leftover when the seating plans are made!)
As if there isn’t enough going on, there are various friends and lots of family, especially Griffin’s mom, who is her own Greek chorus in his daily life. His father, recently dead, still rules his life — literally, from the trunk of his car — as he drives along with his urn unsure of how to dispose of the ashes.
This is really a sad but beautiful depiction of marriage, in its many forms. Griffin and Joy have been together 34 years, and much of what has transpired was decided on a fateful day on their honeymoon, when they came up with what they refer to as the Great Truro Accord. It was their love-induced plan for the rest of their lives: careers, children, houses and other goals. Griffin has silently struggled with this pact throughout their marriage, unsure whether the goals he put forth (to teach, to write) were true to his nature or just something he said when he was caught up in the moment. It is a question we can all relate to — who hasn’t said something and then later thought, was that what I wanted, or what I thought my partner wanted me to be? For most of us, hopefully, we don’t wait 34 years to try and take it back.
A milestone week as this was the first book I've read on my new IPad!! Been fighting the Kindle thing for a looong time, but when it was plopped on my lap after breakfast in bed birthday morning how could i refuse? And the more I thought about it the more it made sense. Though I still love the feel of a 'real' book in my hands, I always feel sort of bad about buying a book then getting rid of it when I'm done. This way I'm saving paper and no unwanted books cramming my bookshelves!
And this one would be on the 'unwanted' shelf. Her first book "Sarah's Key" was good, not great. It helped pass the time at the pool in Florida last spring and the writing was better than ok. This one, in my humble opinion, is a typical second book... i.e. first time bestseller author is given a 2nd book contract, she collects her advance and sleepwalks through the effort.
Here's the Amazon re-cap of the book: Parisian architect Antoine Rey and his sister, Mélanie, celebrate her 40th birthday on the island where they vacationed as children with their mother, until she died there in 1974. Upon returning, Mélanie is gripped by a shocking repressed memory and loses control of the car. After a brief spell of amnesia, she tells her brother what it was she remembered: their mother had been in love with a woman. As a skeptical Antoine investigates this twist in their mother's past, an upsetting chain of events unfurls: his daughter's best friend drops dead of a heart condition at only 14 years of age; his teenage son is arrested; and he learns that his father is dying of cancer. Antoine gets support in his quest from a new lover, a Harley-riding mortician who teaches him how respecting death helps one to embrace life.
Lots to pick apart here... mom was a lesbian in the 70s and couldn't 'come out'? Mom died at a young age and half of the book is a who-done-it of sorts, except (sorry to spill the beans), burns out she wasn't murdered...oops, there goes the plot.
Anyway, a waste of a week though I see it has gotten decent reviews so i'd love to hear what others think?
When I saw this book on my shelf, I thought of all the hoopla surrounding Jonathan Franzen last month, and I remembered how he has often been compared to Paula Fox. (And how he admired her writing.) I have eagerly read Paula Fox since I was a teenager, and her adult novels have been even better. When I realized that the book I had taken away for the weekend was a YA book I was surprised, based on the grim-looking cover. (My copy is so old I couldn’t find a good photo of it online, this picture is of the paperback.) But I was not deterred. After all, I could, with a little luck, sprawl out on the couch and finish it on a lazy Saturday afternoon.
It was a reminder to me, reading this, how so many young adult books have edgier topics than most adult fiction. I agree with the focus, since my capacity for depressing, high drama stories was huge as a teenager. Now, empathizing with the parents in most of these books, I often feel wronged or misunderstood. Not so with Paula Fox. It is her gift to write a story that a 46-year-old can read and still relate to the 15 year old telling it.
At the start of the book we find Catherine, in her Canadian boarding school, waiting for her father to pick her up for their first extended vacation together since her parents divorced when she was three. He brings the concept of “late for pickup” to another level, arriving three weeks after the appointed day. The fact that Catherine never complains, or lets anyone call her mother, is testament to how much this rare time with her dad means to her. When he finally arrives, with a change of plans, she is admirably game, until the reality of day-to-day living sets in. Her dad, Henry Ames, is a failed novelist and an alcoholic, and, while this seems trite, the story never sinks to the level you might expect. At times, Catherine seems much older than her years, but when you factor in her parents, her boarding school existence, and her significant time spent alone reading, it’s possible that a fifteen year old might sound as smart as Paula Fox can write. As an aside, her school sounded fantastic; the first time in memory I thought it would be fun to go back to high school.
Here is an example of an observation Catherine makes early on that shows her youth, but also her wisdom:
“People claimed they spoke about their thoughts, their feelings. She had often wondered if another kind of conversation was taking place, wordlessly, at the same time. No matter what you talked about with Harriet Blacking, she was really saying—you can’t fool me—and you were always protesting—I’m not trying to fool you! Her conversations with Cornelia were partly about how much they liked each other. When she asked Cornelia if she could borrow a blouse and Cornelia said yes, but don’t get strawberry jam on it, they were both saying—you can have what is mine. And when Philippe talked in the café where she sometimes met him after his Thursday anthropology class, whatever they said, it was about being glad to see each other—there wasn’t anyone they wanted to see more…”
Catherine is a keen observer, and, while she may be tried over the course of the summer with her dad, she will not be damaged by it. She seems to have a healthy balance between her longings for a normal family, and her sense that normal is not really a word to describe hers. Again to Fox’s credit, there are no seriously bad guys here; even the characters you think are horrible manage to come through in the end. The book is recommended for readers 9-12, though I would guess the subject would be difficult for someone that young. Maybe wait until they’re 46 or so.
As a fan of Geraldine Brooks, I think I bought March without even reading what it was about. (Hey, my birthday is in March, I’ll buy that!) So, when I went to my overstuffed shelf to pick my next book, I eagerly chose it. It was good, but it was not what I expected. Ok, let me clarify this, if I had read the dust jacket first it might have helped with my expectations. Since I thought I was getting used to her style of combining real people in a historical fiction context, it was a little odd for me to wrap my head around the concept of this book. Brooks has taken a beloved story, Little Women, and basically written the other half — the story from Mr. March’s point of view. March is mentioned mainly as background in Little Women, he has gone off to war when the story begins, and the story ends with his homecoming. Brooks fills in all of the details in between.
The story is poignant and beautifully told, and includes all of the contradictions of the civil war — people of high ideals fighting for the end of slavery, alongside career soldiers trying only to thwart secession.March is naive to the extreme, joining the army as a chaplain at forty, and imagining everyone shares his idealistic views. We meet his good friends Henry Thoreau and Waldo Emerson, and we feel smart, knowing that little fishing pond is going to be very important to Henry a little further down the road.
But, whatever the reason, the device seemed to take away from the story Brooks has to tell. I know this has been done before, with Wicked, and the other books that followed, but I think they were different because they were fantasy. As a reluctant reader of non-fiction, I will make the bold statement here that I would have preferred the straightforward story, without the Little Women context. I think what’s weird is that we have this sense of knowing how it’s going to end, and, at times, you just want to get there already. I could have used a few less mentions of his “little women” at home, there was something creepy about it for some reason. The other concept that’s shocking is that here we have this chaplain, married to perfect Marmee, and he’s not so perfect. He is at times weak and cowardly; prissy and morally compromised. How can he go back to Marmee? What would all those “little women” think of him?
In the acknowledgements, the author gave more information about the background of the actual story, including the fact that Louisa May Alcott wrote the story about her family. Likewise, Brooks did extensive research on the war and on Alcott’s father, and based a large part of the character for March on him. The material available for research was daunting — Alcott recorded his life in sixty-one journals and his letters fill thirty-seven manuscript volumes. In the end, my favorite line of the book is on the last page of the acknowledgements, when Brooks tells how her mother gave her Little Women to read when she was ten. “Though she recommended the book, she also counseled that I take it with a grain of salt. Nobody in real life is such a goody-goody as that Marmee.” In the end, I am not sorry I read it, and I was, I must say, happy to see all of those goody-goodies brought down just a tiny bit closer to the rest of us.
Quick review as it's late and I want to get my weekly post in on time... LOVED Three Cups of Tea, the story of an amazing man who, after (literally) stumbling on an impoverished village in Pakistan after a failed attempt to climb K2, promised to come back and build a school for the kids who had no chance of a future without an education. Not only did he build a school there but after years of working on a shoestring budget, he built dozens and dozens of schools, traveling to this volatile area over 25 times.
When 9/11 hit he was in Pakistan, a hero to the people there who couldn't believe that a foreigner, an American, cared so much about their children. After we started bombing Afghanistan, where he was also helping to educate children, he saw all of his hard work crumble, as local people were killed by our blanket bombs. How, he wondered, did Americans think they were going to try to save these folks (win their 'hearts and minds') by destroying their homes and property? His humanitarian work did more for building good will then American soldiers there to 'free' these people from their oppressors.
An amazing book. I couldn't recommend this one more... an incredible man doing his part for world peace. God bless him and his efforts.
When my brother Bill urged me to read this book last spring, I did what I always do when someone recommends a book— I ran to the bookstore to buy it. (Hence, my still humongous pile of books…) Besides being recommended, it fulfilled my usual requirements: rave reviews, beautiful cover, and a nice hefty book (657 pages in paperback). But when I read the back blurb summary, it did not really interest me. I did the unthinkable, and left without purchasing the book. Fast forward two months, and there my brother is again, urging me to read it. I ask him the question even though I already know the answer, “Is it because it’s about twins?” (My brother is an identical twin). “Well, yeah, that’s part of it.” Aha! I felt so smart. He promised me that, even though he never cried during E.T., (my sister and I will never forgive him for that) he cried reading this book. So, of course, I had to buy it.
It took me longer than a week, just long enough to lapse into the new month. But it was so dense, not a quick read at all, and I did not feel so smart anymore. I really liked the characters. What’s not to love with a story that starts with the birth of conjoined twins, whose father is the surgeon who flees his small Ethiopian hospital when they are born, and the mother is his assistant, Sister Mary Praise, who dies while giving birth? Yes, conjoined twins, a doctor and a nun; sounds like the start of a great joke, right? It was not surprising to read in the acknowledgements that John Irving is an influence for Verghese – it sounds like a plot that Irving could really get into. Of course, there would be a wildebeest or at least a goat involved if he wrote it.
Anyway, I digress. I did love the story. The fact that everyone mentions the conjoined part is a little deceptive, since this is a problem corrected at their birth. The more interesting thing is that Shiva and Marion are mirror-image twins, which is a bit rarer to hear about. (My brothers are also mirror-image twins, one lefty, one righty, etc.) Their lives are the basis for the story, but there are so many characters orbiting around them that I could not possibly summarize the story in this space. Plus, I try not to do that – you can read a summary anywhere; especially good ones are on the Times or Amazon websites.
Verghese is an accomplished doctor as well as a writer, a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. But this book has a lot more doctor than writer in it, and it is not for anyone with a weak stomach. Vaginal fistula, female circumcision, aortic aneurism, anyone? They’re all here. I really love something I just read in the NY Times review, “One would, I suppose, be ill advised to use this novel as a textbook for liver transplantation or bowel surgery, but it might almost be possible.”
Anyway, if you can get through the graphic surgery parts, there is a moving story underneath. The settings, mostly in Ethiopia, but also in New York and Boston, were vividly described (ok, the hospitals) and the historical context was enlightening. There were characters I really cared about. I discovered many interpretations of the title, and I felt like I got a small medical education for the inexpensive price of a paperback, so really, what’s not to love?
My dad gave Jimmy this book for his 10th birthday this summer because it's written by a woman who lives in Little Compton, RI, where we spend our summers. Jimmy is an avid reader, he gobbles books up like candy, a trait which I'm particularly proud of.
This one, though, he read and seemed to have some reservations about. I hadn't picked it out for him and didn't know much about it but as he told me the story and how very sad parts of it were I decided I really needed to read it myself, if only to share the experience with him and be a sounding board if he had any questions.
So the premise is a small coastal town in Rhode Island (clearly our Little Compton) during World War ll. The narrator, 10 year old Robert, has recently moved to the town with his mother and sister, to live with his dad's parents while his dad is away in Europe fighting the war. The town is in a strategic coastal location so forts are built near the beaches, with hidden guns and secret hideaways. Robert's cousin Elliot befriends Abel Hoffman, an old German artist who appears in the town one day and makes his home in the woods living in an old boat frantically working on his art and also mysteriously seen on the beaches with a pair of binoculars. With the war raging and submarines spotted off shore the townspeople quickly become suspicious of Abel and his motives for living amongst them. Abel tells the boys his story, that he was an artist living in Germany targeted by the Nazis for his radical ideas and forced to escape to America.
The inevitable happens, Abel is attacked by the townspeople and is killed.... then Robert's dad's plane disappears over France.
SO this is what probably gave Jimmy pause about the book. Lots of different themes and events which are frightening for a 10 year old. Happily, Robert's dad is found and is ok (thank goodness) and Robert and his family are reunited.
No mention of the Holocaust which was just fine with me, there will be a time and a place for that and I'm thankful it wasn't included in the book. We talked about it and he seemed to learn from the book, sad lessons perhaps, that people aren't always kind to each other.
Even sadder, for me anyway, is that for him not every book can be Percy Jackson or Captain Underpants.
When Rita, (from the new book club I am so lucky to have joined) offered me this book, I declined at first, due to my previously mentioned humongous pile of to-be-read books. But, when I saw it was by Matthew Pearl, I changed my mind. The Dante Club is also on my pile, since my husband recommended it. For some reason though, this book called to me first. So, I cheated and it bypassed all of the others for a place in my bag while I was traveling last week. When I was younger, I loved mysteries. Now, many years later, ahem, I am more intrigued by a mystery that has some sort of historical basis. Ok, maybe that does have something to do with my age – I love stories about things much older than me.
The Last Dickens asks the question, “What if Charles Dickens really did finish Edwin Drood, and we only had to find it?” With Dicken’s untimely death, he literally left the world hanging — reading the sixth installment of an announced twelve in the serialized version of his story The Mystery of Edwin Drood. This story is told from the American publisher’s point of view; who, at the time, was in a precarious position. Because there was no international copyright protection then, virtually anyone who could get their hands on the overseas’ edition could go ahead and print a pirated copy in the United States. The official publisher, then, races against several unsavory characters to find the alleged manuscript. There were many moments in reading this that called to mind The Alienist, which is, to me, a favorable comparison. I love to read about old New York, and the parts that take place in London are vividly depicted as well. I’ve always loved reading Dickens, I just never knew what an interesting person he was. The facts surrounding his life and his great fame also provided a perfect backdrop for the story. There is even a little romance, though the less sexy, more New England kind (the publisher is based in Boston).
The question this book asks is one we sometimes ask ourselves, is a secret ever a good thing? But, in true mystery fashion, we wonder if there’s even a secret after all; maybe some things were just never meant to be, and some stories better left untold.
Two things:First, I didn't read this 864 page book in one week and second i read this one through DailyLit.com which sends subscribers a page a day of the book of your choice (thanks for the tip Kath!)... so though I have been pretty adverse to getting a Kindle I've now read one of the longest books in the history of fiction on my (relatively) small IPhone day after day since last january. Difficult to explain but I loved the idea of delving into a great work of fiction as an aside, as an adjunct to my regular reading. I was about 3/4 of the way through last week and decided to do the last 300 page final sprint as my book this week.
Of course this is book, often called 'the greatest novel ever written' is one of Tolstoy's best. He brilliantly interweaves the lives of several characters in 19th century Russia. I loved the descriptions of the upper class where visitors were invited to drawing rooms for drinks and stimulating conversation and after peeling away a few layers of a marriage they were found to have mostly unhappy, unfulfilled lives. When Anna Karenina makes the shocking decision to leave her husband for the dashing Count Vronsky she has made a choice which will be both freeing and unbearably painful.
The other main character, Levin, a 'gentleman farmer' spends most of the book going through agonizing moral dilemmas. Should he profess his love for the woman he wants to marry? When she rejects him should he pursue her again? Where is his place in the social class? Especially among lower class workers who make their living off of his land? He goes through chapters and chapters of religious revelations which were somewhat difficult to muddle through.
The writing, though, is classic and brilliant. Anna's tragic end is both stunning and haunting, it will stay with you long after the book is done.
I was a fan of Olive Kitteridge, so when Elizabeth Strout was a guest speaker at our library author lunch I did my usual thing and bought all of her other books. This of course only added to my giant to-be-read pile, but thank goodness she only had two others. Anyway, after hearing the author, who was a little sketchy as a speaker, I was a little tentative with my hopes for these books. I also read later that they were not as good as Olive. Well, I have to say that I really did enjoy this book. There were times that it was a little tough going – parts of the story were overwhelmingly sad. But, if you’re looking for a good cry, Elizabeth Strout does sad and depressed very well.
Tyler Caskey is the beloved pastor of a close-knit Maine community. After his wife’s early death, his life begins a steady decline that forces him to examine all of the things he once believed so strongly. For such a truly good man, this is a difficult thing to watch. He is not perfect, of course. He is not the best parent, not the best son, but he had always been a wonderful minister; so when that falls apart he is left with a bunch of unmanageable fragments of a life.
What I find so wonderful about Strout’s writing is the tremendous detail she brings to every character, and there is a whole town’s worth in this book. There are minor characters here that are better developed than the main character of other books I’ve read. I also love to read about these hardened northerners who are not overfriendly, but who will be there for you in a crisis, and will not remind you of it later. Even the title of the book was picked with such care. The hymn “Abide with Me” recurs as a theme throughout the book, and, when the organist plays it toward the end, I almost cried. Ok, maybe I did, but just a little.
Ok, I’m taking a ditto on this one. When I checked on this blog a week or two ago I saw that Janie had just posted the book I was about to finish. But, I am going to say it still counts for me, and put my two cents in here for what it’s worth.
I am a big fan of Nick Hornby, and I think I’ve read all of his other books by now. I even read One Day earlier this summer because people compared him to Nick Hornby. Yes, I will try to get a life.
Since Janie gave a summary already, I’ll be brief. I enjoyed this book, though I will say it wasn’t one of his best. I always read them for the charming characters and their smart and funny repartee. That was all here, but something about it seemed unfinished. When I read the last page it was so abrupt that I turned it over expecting more. So, while I enjoyed it as I was reading it, I’m still trying to figure out if it was worth all of the abuse I took from my daughters who could not stop giggling about the hilarious name of the book Mommy was reading.
Fell into the Picoult trap again this week when I was at the library looking for something to read, in a hurry I should add as Annie was in the car waiting. So once again if you've read one of her books you've read them all. Small town characters, one of them shockingly accused of a crime that he or she didn't commit. Family crisis ensues, big trial takes up the last 3rd of the book with the defense attorney becoming a major character... all coming together in a shocking ending and always, always an aquittal of the wronged defendant. And the topic is always provocative and often timely. Whether it's organ donations, school shootings, teenage suicide or in this case teenage rape (with some witchcraft thrown in), she changes the names of the characters and the topic but little else.
And not only is the story predictable, so is her writing... a few of her favorite phrases include: 'he shrugged on his coat', 'she tucked into her meal' and 'she padded down the hall'.. all used to excess.
Can't promise I won't pick her books up again, I will admit they are page turners. But next time I'm in a rush at the library I'm heading for 'staff picks' my new favorite section.
This book has been much talked about in the past few weeks. The New York Times has reviewed and mentioned it several times and authors such as Jodi Picoult have criticized the newspaper for giving so much attention to this one particular (male) writer. The popularity and 'hotness' of the book seemed to reach a frenzy when Obama was photographed coming out of a book store on Martha's Vineyard with a copy under his arm... 2 weeks before it's publication date!
So as a big fan of Franzen's last book "Corrections" written about 9 years ago I was anxious to read this one. He is nothing less than genius at getting deep into the minds and psyches of 'average' middle class families, who of course are completely disfunctional on many levels. This is the story of Patty and Walter, who met in college. She was a basketball star chasing after Walter's roomate, a guitar playing womanizer who threw her aside so that she could fall into sweet Walter's arms.
The story of their marriage is the story of this book. The characters are beautifully developed. Their friend Richard (guitar player) who Patty never quite gets over, son Joey and daughter Jessica are characters who we are bound to care about and live through years of pain with, all in one brilliantly written novel. Franzen has a talent for developing his characters, for good or bad, so that you care for them and want to know what kind of people they will become when the story ends.
This was a looong one to read in a week... 560 pages.. but well well worth the effort. Definitely on my list of one of the year's best (so far!)
I picked this book up in the bargain section of Barnes and Noble a while ago, and it sat on my shelf for a while more after that. When I bought it, it sounded like a moving story – Radziwill was the wife of Anthony Radziwill, Jackie O’s nephew, who died three weeks after John Kennedy Jr. After that, I kept thinking it might be too morbid, and I was afraid to read it.
When I finally picked it up again, I read it right after One Day, which centered on the date July 15th. Ironically, this book centers on the next day, July 16th, which is the day John Kennedy Jr.’s plane went down. But to say this is all it is about would be to limit it, and to put the focus too much on him; this is instead a loving portrait of his cousin, Anthony. I should say outright that I am not a huge Kennedy fan. Nothing against them, but just kind of oversaturated with all of them. I do however appreciate their place as an American sort of royalty, and, in this frame of mind, it is easy to feel a loss when reading this book.
What I was not prepared for was Carole’s hilarious family story. The outrageous stories of her family could fill up an entirely different, much happier book.
Since Anthony’s death was almost completely overshadowed by the deaths of John, Carolyn and Lauren, it is not surprising that I knew very little about Carole and Anthony. Had I heard more about her then, I probably would have liked them all better. After all, who could resist John Jr. asking his cousin, “Who would have thought we would have ended up with a couple of Caldor girls?” Carole, it turns out, grew up near here, in Suffern, NY. The places she worked (Caldor and Wendy’s in Ramsey) were all familiar. Carole met Anthony while working for ABC – having had a successful news career without the Kennedy name to help her. I was impressed while reading that she deliberately tried not to drop names, though, given her own career and the family she married into, this was probably not an easy task. Instead, she would refer to “Diane and Mike”, or “Joan and Pete”. I learned later they were Diane Sawyer and Mike Nichols, Joan Ganz Cooney (founder of Children’s Television Workshop) and Peter G. Peterson (former US Secretary of Commerce). I did find odd one reason she found John Jr. so charming — that, when he introduced himself, he said, “John Kennedy” and left off the “Jr”. Was there someone in his circle at that time who didn’t know him? I‘m pretty sure he didn’t need to add the last name.
So, I will not get into the marriage almost completely consumed by cancer, or the incredible sadness of that unexpected and unfortunate tragedy in the air. This offers a completely different perspective. Radziwill is not harsh – she is not dishing dirt here. Her portrait of the family is loving and respectful. She is not in their thrall, so she does not gush, except really about Carolyn Bessette, whom she apparently bonded with early on. She is the girl from the wrong side of town, who earned her place by taking on a heroic task. She married a person who was sure to die, and helped him live as much as possible in the short time of what remained.
I've never read "Fever Pitch", "High Fidelity" or "About a Boy", but I liked the movies pretty well, so when I read the review of "Juliet, Naked" and found out that the author, Nick Hornby had written those 3 novels, I was curious enough to hit "Buy now with 1-click - you can be reading this on your kindle within 30 seconds - send to Janie's Ipad" (this has nothing to do with the book - its just a comment on the millions that Amazon must be making off of impulsive shoppers like me).
LT
Here's the plot: As the book begins, the 2 main characters (an unhappy 40ish couple from a lifeless and timeworn English seaside village) begin a pilgrimage in the USA to visit sites that were supposedly significant in the life of a rock star named Tucker Crowe who has been in hiding for the last 20 years.
Duncan and Annie, the travelling couple, visit a toilet stall in a dark Minnesota bar, among other places to try to uncover the mystery behind Crowe's disappearance. Duncan is the stalker-like fan who fancies himself as the world's leading "Crowologist", aided by his blog and a handful of other Crowe fans worldwide who spend many hours analyzing the lyrics, music and known behavior of their idol.
As their trip progresses, Annie becomes more and more sick of Duncan's obsessive behavior and total lack of interest in doing any sightseeing not related to Crowe. Upon their return home, an unexpected new release of demos from Tucker Crowe is waiting in their mailbox. Duncan, anxious to one-up all of his blog followers by announcing the new release, listens to the CD once and posts an extremely positive review.
Annie has also heard the CD and quietly posts her own review on the website, disagreeing with Duncan. As their relationship deteriorates and ends, Annie gets a response to her review from the artist himself, Tucker Crowe, agreeing with her assessment.
I'm not great a synopsizing the messages within novels, so I'm just going to quote the NY Times Review of the book, which says it pretty well for me:
All three characters have dark views of themselves, and Hornby relies mainly on their self-criticism to make you smirk. Tucker, finding himself corralled into a series of reunions with his estranged children, thinks he’s becoming an expert on “paternal reintroduction” and wonders whether he should run classes. Annie tries to work out an algebraic equation that can tell her exactly how many real years she’s wasted with Duncan. Yet Hornby still gets you to sympathize with each one’s earnest quest for some belated emotional maturity.
Nick Hornby is again having fun with — making fun of — an obsessive music fan. What’s different now, 14 years after “High Fidelity,” is that fans live out their obsessions on the Internet, a place where distances shrink, time collapses, and it’s very easy to get lost. Hornby seems, as ever, fascinated by the power of music to guide the heart, and in this very funny, very charming novel, he makes you see why it matters.
'Gift' is a book I've read a few times and is fun to pick up after spending a summer on the beach. Lindbergh wrote this in 1955 after spending a solitary 2 weeks in a cottage by the beach. As a mother of 5 and wife of the famous aviator, she treasured her time alone with nothing but a few clothes, some books and her pen and paper. She writes about the overwhelming life of being a mom, and the 'trappings of modernity', which in the mid 50s included housework, being a good wife and mother.
One of the reasons why I enjoy re-reading this book, I think, is how much I envy and enjoy her ability to take those 2 weeks off, purely for herself, with no obligations or responsibilities. She writes: "The beach is not the place to work; to read, write or think. I should have remembered that from other years. Too warm, too damp, too soft for any real mental discipline or sharp flights of spirit. One never learns. Hopefully, one carries down the faded straw bag, lumpy with books, clean paper, long over-due unanswered letters, freshly sharpened pencils, lists and good intentions. The books remain unread, the pencils break their points and the pads rest smooth and unblemished as the cloudless sky. No reading, no writing, no thoughts even - at least not at first."
She writes a lot about relationships and marriage, partnerships and of course, making time for oneself. A lot of this is dated but still worth a read. At only 130 pages it's a quick one.
And I LOVE getting my Poetry journal every few months. It's filled with wonderful writings from current poets. In the July/August issue one poem "The House of Time by Stephen Edgar really stuck with me. In the poem he sees the life he has lived as rooms in a house:
A moving book, in three dimensions he could wander through At will, at any point, now, since, before, To feel, to listen and to look - A house, or suite Of rooms around a circling corridor, And waiting there, he knew, Were all the peopled days he'd not repeat.
(his rememberance of a 'lost' lover was particularly moving)
He recognized at once the face Of one who five years hence he would have bound As closely to him as a Siamese twin. How recklessly he would replace That loving care. Absorbed, now, in the dream of skin on skin, He whispered the profound And destined promises s she'd never share.
Love these poetry 'moments' I have every month with this publication.
Here is the reason why I love to be in a book club:
Someone picks a book they love, or thinks they’re going to love, and then they put it out there, and hope we share in their excitement. This month I read West with the Night. I had heard of Beryl Markham in a vague sort of way; basically I knew she was an aviatrix. The book is not new (written in 1942), but I had never heard of it. And, if it weren’t for my book club, I probably would never have read it. Instead, I got a copy at the library (still have those 84 books to read on my shelf), and, since the cover did not seem compelling, I waited quite a few days before finally cracking it open. (Full disclosure – I finished ten minutes before I left for the meeting).
I loved this book. The woman was amazing. I wanted to be her. She fought lions, trained horses, flew airplanes. Who wouldn’t want to be her? I think it should be required reading for teenage girls who feel they are not given the chances they deserve. Beryl Markham had no mother, and was raised in East Africa by a father who preferred to consider her his contemporary as opposed to his daughter.
Her writing is, in most places, pure poetry. The closest thing I can compare it to is Toni Morrison’s, but Morrison's writing was just too beautiful for me that it became a distraction. The writing also reminded me of Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s The Little Prince, and even more, Wind, Sand and Stars. I don’t know if it’s the similar topic of flying, or just writing about the thing you love. Do not read this book if you are looking for romance. She apparently had plenty of that, but this is not a book for that subject. This is, according to critics, the utopian view. Which brings me to the next part,
Here is the reason I hate the internet:
Because I read the book so late, I was lucky in that I avoided any google searches on this topic. It is apparently a hotly debated one, whether or not Markham even wrote this book herself. You can do your own research online. I refuse to come down from the high I got reading this book. I say, just let it be. This is not James Frey lying about rehab. Nobody got hurt, and it happened too long ago to interview the witnesses. Supposedly her third husband wrote it. So what? Maybe he loved her, and wanted her to look good, so he gave her adventures the words she did not have. I am tired of snopes! Let’s be naïve and trusting for a little while longer. This is an amazing book, a complete delight; a story of adventure that will give you chills. How could you not enjoy this, as she begins her historic solo flight across the Atlantic Ocean:
“We are bound for a place thirty-six hundred miles from here — two thousand miles of it unbroken ocean. Most of the way it will be night. We are flying west with the night.
So there behind me is Cork; and ahead of me is Berehaven Lighthouse. It is the last light, standing on the last land. I watch it, counting the frequency of its flashes — so many to the minute. Then I pass it and fly out to sea.”
If you need more than that, take Ernest Hemingway’s word for it, not mine:
"Did you read Beryl Markham's book, West with the Night? I knew her fairly well in Africa and never would have suspected that she could and would put pen to paper except to write in her flyer's log book. As it is, she has written so well, and marvelously well, that I was completely ashamed of myself as a writer. I felt that I was simply a carpenter with words, picking up whatever was furnished on the job and nailing them together and sometimes making an okay pig pen. But [she] can write rings around all of us who consider ourselves writers. The only parts of it that I know about personally, on account of having been there at the time and heard the other people's stories, are absolutely true . . . I wish you would get it and read it because it is really a bloody wonderful book.”
I picked this up for my summer “beach read”, and it was that and a little bit more. As I was reading, I couldn’t get past the idea that this was sure to be a movie soon, and the quote from Nick Hornby on the cover seemed to confirm this. This idea produced the odd effect of me casting the characters as I read.
It’s true, you can almost hear Hugh Grant’s voice every time Dexter Mayhew speaks. (You know it’s a beach read with a name like that.) Emma, of course, could be Renee Zellweger, or whatever young actress is considered the new Renee Zellweger these days. Ok, I guess Hugh Grant is too old too, but can Bradley Cooper do an English accent?
Dex and Em meet cute — and a little sheepishly — on the night they graduate from the University of Edinburgh. Emma Morley, the brainy, working class girl, is way out of Dex’s league, but he is attracted to her, and we are heartened that the privileged cad is kinder than we thought. We are not really given all of the details until later, but we assume that they’ve gotten drunk and spent the night together, perhaps, as Emma hopes, chastely. Dex, despite his initial instincts, does not run away the morning after. They spend what turns out to be an awkward and yet wonderful day together (July 15th), and then they part, not sure whether they will see each other again. Their paths cross in different contexts over the next twenty or so years, and the letters they send echo the strange friendship they have developed.
What sets this book apart from the typical “boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back” formula is the device the author uses to give us glimpses of their relationship. Each chapter takes place on July 15th, in each of the subsequent years. Sometimes we learn about what has happened in the interim, but more importantly we see specifics about that particular day; where they are, what they are doing. As time passes, the day develops a deep significance to both of them. I liked this format, though it did make me wonder how it would translate into what I believe is the inevitable movie.
The book has many flaws, but the banter between the characters is wonderful. You feel their pain in their constant sarcasm and deflecting comments, but they are hilarious at the same time. No two people could possibly have this many great comebacks, but I don’t care, it’s a novel. Plus, I love to read the words “posh”, and “does he fancy me” and pretty much any other cute expressions that you would find in a novel that takes place in England. Read this one for a fun story that may even surprise you.
So I surfed this summer. Yup, when I signed the kids up for a week of surf camp I decided to try it myself, 5 straight days of getting up and falling down... I don't think I have a bucket list but if i did this one would be on it. Very fun and in another writing forum I plan on putting together my own 'lessons i learned while surfing' piece. In the meantime I picked this book up in a surf shop in Newport.
The author was a world champion surfer in the late 70s when the sport struggled to fix its image, to legitimize what most folks thought of as something airheads did while between drugs and sleeping around. He and a group of fellow surfers formed a world tour, traveling around the world competing against each other and turning surfing into a worldwide sensation.
His writing won't win any awards and if I hadn't tried surfing myself and found it to be a pretty spiritual experience, none of this would have kept my interest. But he has some lines that hit home for this 'cool mom' surfer:
'Part of the appeal of surfing is that you never really know what you are going to get... surfing is all about uncertainty. That feeling of taking a risk, that leap of faith every time I jump into the ocean, that paddle among things unseen - all of these things make surfing special.'
'There is something very special about riding on a board while surrounded by moving water...'
'Surfing builds confidence. It builds confidence in the beginning stages, when young surfers paddle through those lines of white water and make it out to the lineup on their own; when they have the control to sit on their surfboards without falling off; when they learn how to judge approaching swells; and when they finally catch a wave and stand up for the very first time.'
'I learned to trust in all the steps that have gotten me where I am. The result is that I feel better about myself, and I have a lot of fun pushing myself into more challenging situations."
If nothing else, the experience taught me that old dogs can learn new tricks!
This is the third book in a series by Towler where the main 'character' is a place called Snow Island, which happens to, in fact be Prudence Island, right across the bay from Jim's family house in Portsmouth, Rhode Island. I so enjoyed reading the first two books, where Towler brings this small island community to life. What it's like when the summer folk leave in September and the Islanders battle winter and loneliness.
In this third book the magic was gone for me. I'd already gotten that it's difficult living in a town with only a few dozen people, one store, lots of secrets, not much new happens... in this new book she tries to liven it up, perhaps a bit too much, with 2 new inhabitants, each there for different reasons. One, a woman in her early 30s, there to check out the Inn she inherited from her aunt, the other, in her mid 70s on the island to decide whether to tear down the home her deceased husband had started to build decades before.
Both women just happen to be lesbians and Towler mixes things up a bit with some pretty explicit bedroom stuff with these women and their partners, as well as another island inhabitant, Nick and his married lover Rachel.
Didn't enjoy it this third time around. Not enough Rhode Island quohogging around the lighthouse details, too much lurid detail! Not what I wanted from this particular island read.
This book was on my to-buy list for so long, that when I actually purchased it I was a little afraid of reading it, since by then it couldn’t possibly fulfill my expectations. I finally picked it up this week at the lake, and I was not disappointed. From the beautiful cover design on the paperback (by one of my favorite children’s book artists, Matteo Pericoli), right through to the heartbreaking end, I loved this book.
I will give one caveat – I was not real keen on the author interview at the end. For me, the book was not a about politics, as much as a perfectly realized interpretation of a moment in time that, in contrast to today, makes a more subtle political statement than McCann does in his interview after. I do not really care about Colum McCann’s political views; and I certainly don’t read his books to hear them. In other words, Colum McCann being “interviewed”, by his friend and collaborator Nathan Englander, took away from my satisfaction at the end of the story. Maybe I should have just finished the story and slept on it, saving the notes at the end for another time.
Ok, so back to the book. If you haven’t heard about it already, Mccann uses the event of Philippe Petit’s walk on the high wire between the World Trade Center towers to tell the story of a large cast of characters. He doesn’t just pluck the characters from the scene beneath the walker — in some cases their involvement in the walk is only incidental. When I first read about the book in the NY Times book review, they noted that the plot is very much like the movie “Crash” in that one event brings all of the people together; but it is a bit different, in that the event is really just a common thread, they don’t necessarily interact with each other. It is a bit six-degrees of separation; two people from different worlds meet, then one of them goes out and is involved with a third, etc.
Through the characters we recall the many tumultuous events of the time: soldiers returned (and not) from Vietnam, the increasing poverty and high crime in the city’s poorest neighborhoods, the struggle between classes and the awkwardness that follows someone trying to prove it doesn’t matter. Philippe Petit is also a character in the story, but McCann never calls him by name – he is just the walker – mischievous, bold, and ethereal. He doesn’t walk on that wire, he hops, he dances, he lays down on it. His walk, for a brief moment in time, lifted us all up into the clouds. And, despite what people at the time may have thought, he made those towers beautiful.
LT
