Madame de Staël, The First Modern Woman, by Francine Du Plessix Gray

Back when I could keep the threads of several plot lines alive at the same, I had a book I was reading in the bedroom, one in the living room, and yes, sometimes one in the bathroom. Now, I have the high-tech version of that. My work vice (ok, one of them) is that I read DailyLit every day on my computer. If you haven’t already heard about it, it’s a terrific service where you receive an email with five minutes of reading a day. You choose the story, the length, and the frequency of the installments.

When I first started using this service, it was free for most classics, and more current fiction was offered for a fee. Today, everything’s free. But, I was nervous. Wuthering Heights, with one hundred and forty-five installments, seemed a little ambitious, and could take half a year! Now, in the year or so that I’ve been a member, I have read over a dozen classic novels, as well as several short stories.

Madame de Staël, The First Modern Woman, by Francine Du Plessix Gray, would not have been something I picked up at Barnes & Noble. I am not a huge fan of historical biography, especially when it comes heavily footnoted. But, in a recent note from dailylit, I was alerted to the book that Diane Von Furstenberg was “sponsoring”. Each installment came with a tiny DVF band at the top, but honestly, I will support anyone who gives free literature to the masses.

The book, for me, was truly remarkable. I was not quite sure who Germaine de Staël was at the start of the book, and, by the end, I could not believe I’d only vaguely heard of her before. She was an immovable force – by sheer will and conversation she brought some of the greatest men in modern France (and Europe) to their knees. Most remarkable was the long string of lovers and worshippers she left in her wake – despite her oft-noted plain, and even ugly, overweight appearance. I loved reading about these famous men who met her, complained openly at the sight of her, and then the next day were begging for her attention!

A little history, for those so inclined. Germaine de Staël (1766 – 1817) was the daughter of Jacques Necker, Minister of Finances to Louis XVI. She was born into a life of politics, where intellectual conversation was considered an art. She became a best-selling novelist and the mistress of one of the most celebrated salons in France. During her impassioned battles with Napoleon, she was repeatedly exiled from her beloved Paris, and forced to stay at her family home in Lake Geneva. (honestly, “Coppet” sounded very luxurious so I didn’t feel quite so sorry for her.) If you are a history buff, you will enjoy the countless famous men and women who people her amazing story; including many whose careers she orchestrated. She was a political figure, but also a humanitarian, and she did whatever she could to save lives in the time of the “Terror”.

Before her marriage, at twenty, to de Staël, she said, “I regret that I have not joined my fate to that of a great man; it is the only possible glory for a woman.” In truth, it was the great men who found glory in joining their fate to her.

Game Change by John Heilemann and Mark Halperin

Obama is smart and charismatic, Clinton is bitter, Palin is clueless and McCain didn’t really want to run. On the surface there doesn’t seem to be much new to say about the 2008 campaign but reporters Heileman and Halperin, writers at New York and Time magazines, dug deep and found some

Tidbits like: Elizabeth Edwards, whom I have always admired (except for her choice in husbands, yuck) is a witch and a nightmare, described by insiders as: “abusive, intrusive, paranoid, a condescending crazy woman”. What bugs me about this revelation is that it may, in some twisted way, be used to justify her husband's disgusting behavior.

At the infamous moment in their debate when Palin walked up to Biden and said ‘Hey can I call you Joe’, she did so because, during rehearsals for the debate, she couldn't stop calling him ‘O’Biden’

And one of my favorites: In private with his staff, Obama loved to mockingly repeat Palin’s signature phrase “You betcha!’ Can’t you just seem him winking an eye and giving the thumbs up as he’s doing it a la Tina Fey? Priceless.

This gem of a book is filled with details like these and ends with the unimaginable moment when Obama offered Clinton the Secretary of State job and she accepted. “Obama had pulled off the greatest game changer of them all. On the brink of great power and awesome responsibility, he and Clinton were on the same team.” Brilliant politics.

The Secret Scripture by Sebastian Barry

The title of this book, The Secret Scripture, made me think I was about to read a religious novel. I found this not to be the case. Of course, the root of the story does have religious underpinnings that are crucial to understanding the plight of the main character, Roseanne Clear; but mostly it’s a story of tragedy and mystery.

Roseanne, a 100 year-old mental patient at an old Irish asylum, is writing her autobiography. She tries to piece together from memories (which often change with time and trauma) the story of her life and people who impacted her. The deep love she has for her father, Joe Clear, and her loss of him in childhood, plays a major role in the woman she becomes. She writes, “How I would like to say that I loved my father so much that I could not have lived without him, but such an avowal would be proved false in time. Those that we love, those essential beings, are removed from us at the will of the Almighty, or the devils that usurp him. It is as if a huge lump of lead were lain over the soul, such deaths, and where that soul was previously weightless, now is a secret and ruinous burden at the very heart of us.”

Dr. Grene, the institution’s psychiatrist and Roseanne’s caregiver, shares his story as he investigates the reasons why Roseanne was committed. The asylum is scheduled to be destroyed and all those in it must be moved or set free. As Dr. Grene examines Roseanne’s life and how she came to be in such a place, he begins to unravel a gripping mystery born of ill-fated tragedies.

This Irish novel is beautifully written. As you read the lyrical prose you can almost hear the musical brogue in your head. The Secret Scripture, a finalist for the Man Booker Prize in 2009, in its search for truth shows us how unreliable memory can be; whether the uncertainty has to do with human motives, or the act of writing itself, is up to you to decide.

I cracked open THE HUNGER GAMES by Suzanne Collins on the recommendation of my 13-year old daughter, my 15-year old neice, and my sister (I won't give her age ;-) Within a few pages, I had my doubts and almost bailed. The setting of this young adult book is post-apocolyptic North America in which an all-powerful Capitol is ringed by 12 subjugated Districts. The plot centers around an annual set of games in which each of the Districts randomly selects, at "the reaping," one boy and one girl between the ages of 12 and 18 who are then released into an arena to kill each other. The winner brings honor and riches to his or her District, and the entire games are viewed on television by all the residents of the Capitol and Districts. It is a reality show of the most sinister kind: part Survivor, part Roman gladiators, part Tri-Wizard Tournament from Harry Potter #4. The main character and first-person narrator is 16-year old Katniss Everdeen, a courageous and resourceful, but bitter young woman from the poorest section of District 12, in which mining is the chief industry. I liked Katniss and admired her survival skills and sharp wits, which serve her well when she finds herself a reluctant "tribute" in the Hunger Games.

I dragged my heels through the first half of the book, the chapters that contain the build-up and preparation for the games. My sense of dread and anger at the injustice of it all was second only to Katniss', and I kept asking my daughter how she could possibly have gotten through this and come out loving the book. She told me to be patient, stick with it, and try to put my feelings aside. I had difficulty getting past the fact that a central government could inflict such a horrible and inhumane punishment on its citizens: the required sacrifice of their youngest and brightest, their sons and daughters, their very future, to this barbaric game, and the passing it off as entertainment. Once the games began, however, I couldn't put the book down and I read the second half in one sitting. I had to grudgingly agree with my daughter that the excitement of the hunt, the complexities of the game, and the alliances that are formed made me (almost) forget what started it all. The 24 tributes must defend themselves against each other as well as hidden dangers in their environment. The "arena" containing miles of wilderness--forest, desert, lake, meadow--is actually fabricated by the gamemakers and constantly being manipulated to keep the games interesting. Ponds suddenly dry up, temperatures are dropped at night, and poisonous berries grow in plain sight. Hidden cameras are everywhere and spectators place bets. Sponsors may pay for special supplies to be dropped by silver parachute to their favorite tribute: a soothing salve for bee stings, a kettle of soup, a suit of armor.

I won't tell you how the games turn out, but I will say that the climax is worth the build-up, and that I've had some interesting discussions with my daughter after reading the book. We agreed that we don't know any teen (or adult) who could survive three minutes, let alone three weeks, of The Hunger Games. We also had fun trying to decide which tribute we most resembled in terms of our (real or imagined) skill sets. I recommend this book for anyone 13 and older, with some reservations for sensitive types, like me.

THE HUNGER GAMES was Book One of a trilogy. Book Two, CATCHING FIRE, came out in September and my reservation already has been placed at the library. I'm hopelessly hooked.

A Reminder

A few weeks ago, Lucy made a reference to the book Angle of Repose. Her post was actually a review of America America but the same friend had recommended both books to her and she suggested her friend never went wrong. At the time, I was making a wish list for Christmas gifts and included Angle of Repose on my list. The book tells the tale of a disabled professor who returns to his childhood home to write the story of his grandmother who was an early western settler.

As I read, I was reminded of how rarely I read stories of times past. Susan's story was a fascinating glimpse into our country's past. I was also reminded of the fact that Pulitzer Prize winning writing (as Angle of Repose is) can be at times, dense and harder to read than some of the lighter fare that I tend to prefer. I rose to the challenge but there were certainly nights when I craved something "easier."

I should finish my latest easier read shortly with a review to follow. A hint: I did move onto to lighter writing but I stayed in the past. There will be much royalty in my next review...

Remarkable Creatures by Tracy Chevalier

Chevalier was once a reference book editor, which I love, having been a fact checker myself. She paid attention to historical detail in “Girl With a Pearl Earring” and does so as well in her new book “Remarkable Creatures”, the story of 2 women in the English seaside town of Lyme Regis in early 19th century England, Mary Anning, a young working class girl and Elizabeth Philpot, a ‘spinster’ at age 25. Elizabeth is moved to Lyme from London (with her unmarried sisters) after her brother marries. She quickly becomes fascinated with collecting and classifying fossils on the beach. She also has a unique way of categorizing people she meets. “I have long noted that people tend to lead with one particular feature, a part of the face or body. My brother, for instance leads with his eyebrows. It is not just that they form prominent tufts above his eyes, but they are the part of his face that moves the most… My sister Margaret, leads with her hands. She is given to waving her hands about when she dances.. My sister Frances has been the only sister to marry and leads with her bosom – which I suppose explains that.” Wonderful, wonderful descriptive writing throughout the book.

Mary Anning, who was struck by lightening as a baby, has an eye for spotting unusual fossils embedded in cliffs and on the beach. The two women forge an uncommon friendship, which sees them through the tongue wagging of townsfolk and Mary’s fossil finds which throw into question the very nature of religion. How could God create creatures that no longer exist? How could these fossils once have been animals that existed hundreds of thousands of years ago when the earth is only 6 (or so?) thousand years old. Because of the time period and because Mary is a woman, she is not given credit for her discoveries and when men of science step in and try to take credit for her findings, the result is a wonderful story of friendship and resilience between these two women.

Chevalier discovered the real Mary Anning while touring a dinosaur museum in Lyme Regis, took the ‘bones’ of her life, much of which is recounted here (Elizabeth was also a real person) and put together a wonderful story of loyalty, camaraderie and a fascinating moment in history. I loved this book.

The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery

The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery is a wonderful, intelligent book that pays tribute to Beauty in many forms; language, art, music and literature. The two eccentric voices of the story, Renee, a fifty-four year old concierge, and Paloma, an adolescent with intellect and wisdom beyond her short twelve years, share a kindred soul. Both of these fascinating, yet unbelievable, characters challenge the reader with philosophical reflections on the meaning of life and death, beauty and art, language and literature, and love and hate.

The story takes place at 7 Rue de Grenelle, a Parisian residential building of eight luxury apartments, owned by several wealthy and elite families. Much of the beginning of the book contains Renee and Paloma’s daily observations about the people and pets who occupy the building; weaved into their remarks are their own personal philosophies and sensitivities. Not until the end of the book do Renee and Paloma form a friendship which is life-altering for them both.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book! I must admit, at the start, I was a bit concerned about the ostentatious language, but quickly realized that it was part of the character development and not an obnoxious attempt at a work of great literature. I particularly enjoyed the way in which Barbery weaves life’s deeper questions into the story. Of course the answers to those questions depend on your perspective; but one thing is certain, none of it means anything without meaningful relationships.

Thrumpton Hall, A Memoir of Life in My Father's House by Miranda Seymour

Thrumpton Hall, A memoir of Life in My Father’s House, is at once a strange tale and an understandable story of love for a beautiful house. George Fitzroy Seymour, the author’s father, was captivated by Thrumpton Hall at a young age. Forced to move there as a child of two, George found himself living with his Uncle Charlie (Lord) Byron and Aunt Anna while his father took an international assignment. Charlie, already an owner of several estates, inherited Thrumpton Hall later in life, and was courted not only by Anna, but her mother Ismay as well. Anna, at 35, was desperate but shy; the stalemate was broken only when her older brother literally locked Charlie in the billiard room until he proposed to her. This is the foundation for George’s early years – the “adopted” child of a prosperous landowner (distantly related to the poet) and his good-hearted wife. The fact that they were childless encouraged his fantasies of one day owning the house himself.

And, after a very odd and complicated fight, he eventually did. But the house did not come without a cost.

The story of George’s early life details his infrequent interactions with others, mostly involving his attempts at being at the “right” parties and events, to meet the “right” kind of people. He cannot invite the friends he has made at boarding school to visit, because, even after he moves back to London with his parents, he has yet to tell them that Thrumpton is not his home. He is house-proud at a very young age.

The driving force in George’s life becomes the tenuous connections he makes to trace his family to royalty. In the club books he listed items like “mother sister of 10th Duke of Grafton”, or “wife daughter of the 8th Baron…”, without any real title of his own. This fact saddened him throughout his life, though the connections were a consolation.

Any book that begins with a complicated family tree page does not fare well in a summary review. Miranda Seymour, current owner of Thrumpton Hall, is a widely published British author, with novels, biographies and children’s books to her credit, and it is evident in her telling. She writes compellingly of her father’s early life with the aid of his many diaries and letters – another obsession for this eccentric English gentleman. A much-commented upon structure of the book is the fact that she writes and rewrites with her mother “looking over her shoulder”. Rosemary Scott Ellis wants to defend her dead husband’s honor, and so she picks up the manuscript throughout, and voices her concerns as we read along. In some ways, I thought this was a creative device to hear another side to the story. But in other ways I felt that the author was never really able (or willing) to be as open as she could have been if her mother weren’t reading it. The idea that her father was gay, while touched upon at times throughout the story, seemed obvious to me from the beginning, and I wondered if the author had written it after her mother died if she would have been more forthcoming. I am not actually sure she would have, since she seemed, even as she supplied irrefutable facts, to be in denial.

In truth, Thrumpton Hall was the abiding love of George’s life, and all the other people in it were merely decoration. How else would you explain the family portraits painted for the house with both Miranda and her mother required to wear wigs to cover up what George felt was their unappealing hair? Throughout the book I was expecting some sort of climactic confrontational scene, but the only thing close to this happens “off-stage”, between her mother and father, and her mother does not share this story with us. In many ways, her father was a disappointment to her, but, in the end, Miranda Seymour gives him the best gift of all – she immortalizes his beloved house.

The Good Life by Jay McInerney

I’m all for reading a good ‘love among the ruins’ novel. A doomed couple, pledged to others, meet in the backdrop of war and fall hopelessly in love. No matter how much they try, no matter who it hurts, they can’t stay away from each other. Works well for a Civil War setting (Gone With the Wind) or World War ll (Suite Francaise) but I’m not ready for such a tale to be told among the ‘ruins’ of 9/11. Maybe it’s still to recent, too raw, to imagine a setting such as this for a couple of well to do New Yorkers, both stuck in unhappy marriages, to meet and fall in love while working at a soup kitchen at ground zero. Corrine and Luke spend their evenings serving coffee to rescue workers and cops while lusting after each other. Luke is a well to do banker whose wife, a beautiful socialite, screws around on him and his daughter, 14 going on 25, is living the fast life in Manhattan. Corrine, the mom of twins, has a husband who has also cheated on her and is moving unhappily through her life. Until 9/11 happened. Secret trysts, stolen trips all the stuff of illicit affairs. Yes, I poured through the book and read it in 4 days instead of 7, but I still didn't feel good about it. Not yet, maybe not ever.

This book has been on my list ever since I heard about author Ayelet Waldman's controverial Modern Love essay in the New York Times (I still have not read it), in which she wrote that she loves her husband more than she loves her kids. It landed her on Oprah, on the set of which she was reportedly almost attacked by an audience member, so strong was the sentiment against her. She also grew up in Ridgewood, NJ, where I live. I have to admit, that piqued my curiosity. Finally, after hearing first her husband, writer Michael Chabon, and then Waldman herself interviewed on WNYC's The Leonard Lopate show, I decided "Alright already!" and moved her book to the top of my list. Now that I know how to correctly pronounce her name (I-yell-it), I can talk about her with confidence.

Bad Mother: A Chronicle of Maternal Crimes, Minor Calamities, and Occasional Moments of Grace is a set of 18 essays about being a mother, wife, daughter and woman. Each one stands alone, but as a series, they crescendo towards the conclusion that there are many ways to mother, that we all make mistakes, that we all judge without fully understanding, and that we all need to cut ourselves and each other some slack. The essays are filled with big highs and lows, as well as the mundane stuff of life in between. Waldman covers everything from her girlhood to her marriage, from her feminism to her maternalism, from living with bipolar disorder to having an abortion, from her mother-in-law to her children, and much, much, more.

I found Waldman's essays both very funny and heartwrenching, and filled with truths. I definitely recognized myself in them--as both the judger and the judged. I felt ashamed at the times when I have made other mothers into "bogeymamas" (Waldman's word). I felt defensive when she seemed to be judging me, who genuinely enjoyed day after day of Music Together, library story hour, and playground meetups, when my girls were little, and felt no need for a career. All in all, my spirit rallied around Waldman's thesis that the media/popular culture/society is much harder on mothers than on fathers, and women are a big part of the problem because we fail to support each other. I also felt, however, that although she is the first to admit that she married the perfect man for her, she underestimates the rarity of men who set out to be stay-at-home fathers and domestic gods. Her marriage strikes me as very unique, and not the most likely position from which to advise other women. Ditto, her home in Berkeley, CA, the mecca of progressivism and diversity.

I'm not big into celebrities, but this literary couple has captured my imagination (reportedly, they begin each work day by wandering out the back door of their Craftsman-style bungalow to their studio, where they write at a pair of back-to-back desks). I can't rest now until I've read Chabon's new book Manhood for Amateurs: The Pleasures and Regrets of a Husband, Father, and Son. I want to hear his side of the story.

Kissing the Virgin’s Mouth by Donna M. Gershten

Kissing the Virgin’s Mouth by Donna M. Gershten is a beautifully written novel that artfully describes the duality of life. The voice of the story, Magda, details her life growing up poor and later acquiring affluence in a costal resort community in Mexico. Her story is one of contradictions: she is distrustful of men but she still yearns for love; she longs for faith yet she discards religion; and she lives life by her own rules but also respects tradition. She recounts both her childhood and adulthood with detailed accounts of abuse, neglect, manipulation, and mistrust. Determined to prosper, to move beyond her family’s plight, she finds ways to survive in patriarchal cultures where she does not fit in.

Gershten's spirited, debut novel is the first winner of the Bellwether Prize for a work of socially or politically engaged fiction. It has strong feminist overtones and lots of cultural references. Like the last Bellwether I reviewed, The Book of Dead Birds, this is another story of strong women, mothers and daughters, and how they influence one another. The Spanish colloquialisms create a powerful atmosphere and help to make the characters more real and deep.

I’m always intrigued when authors write novels about cultures to which they don’t belong. I did a little research about the author and discovered that she was born in eastern North Carolina and later lived for some years in Sinaloa, Mexico, where she ran a fitness and community center. I wonder if someone of Hispanic origin would think she did a good job portraying the culture in this novel. So I tried to find out. I did discover this interesting post on amazon.com from icolibri; “In reading the novel I realized that Ms. Gershten had done nothing more than to re-interpret what she might have seen while she lived in Mexico. The first obstacle in her narrative is her misuse of the Spanish language. She makes the common errors the English speakers make when speaking Spanish, and not the errors of the poor, uneducated Spanish speakers. Then you come across her off hand treatment of the Virgin of Guadalupe. While Magda may be the only exception to the way the millions of Mexicans venerate their patron saint, it was difficult accept that Magda would disrespect the Virgin by calling her Lupa. If she wanted to use an endearment, she could have used Lupita, but then only Mexicans know this. These are just the basic problems that I found. Limitation of this review prohibits an in-depth criticism of her misinterpretation of the Mexican woman psyche.”

So, I guess if you’re a non-Spanish speaking, white, feminist woman you might like the book!

The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown

I took this one with me on our ski trip, knowing that, even at 500 pages, it would go quick as Dan Brown’s chapters rarely run over 2 pages so with all of the blank half pages, it's really like 350 pages. Having read Angels and Demons and The Da Vinci Code I was prepared for another adventure for professor Robert Langdon where he would inadvertently discover some sort of secret religious symbol while being chased, with a beautiful but brilliant female sidekick, by a madman. It all happened here, this time in Washington D.C.

Lots to learn here about the secret society of Masons and their influence in the building of D.C. and of course there is a deadline for Langdon. He MUST find the lost symbol by 10 pm or the madman will release a very embarrassing video involving senators, the speaker of the house, supreme court justices, agency directors and, is that the vice president? If he doesn’t get there in time the video will be released to the media and all of these poor unfortunate folks will be out of jobs..but.. as my Annie would say "And that's a problem because...?"

I had forgotten about Brown’s liberal (and annoying) use of italics on every page. Like this one: “Langdon came to an abrupt halt in the tunnel. ‘Hold on. You’re saying this pyramid is a map…?’” or: “Not quite. The Young man paused. ‘He told me to ask you a question.’ …A very strange question…. ‘He said he needed your response right away. Love this from NYT’s Maureen Dowd: The author has gotten rich and famous without attaining a speck of subtlety. A character never just stumbles into blackness. It must be inky blackness. A character never just listens in shock. He listens in utter shock.

Not trashing the book here, it kept me hooked, but the story dragged on beyond the unexpected twist… more than we needed to know about Masons and their influence on Washington. Brown seems to have trouble deciding when to stop writing, not a problem for me.

Christmas Medley

Rather than reading any new books, I spent the last two weeks steeped in Christmas lit, travel guidebooks, and old familiar volumes. Fueled by my favorite seasonal sweets and bottomless pots of tea, I renewed my spirit with hours on end of feel-good reading.

Along with the tree ornaments and holly-bedecked Lenox china, one of the most welcome sights for our family at this time of year is the basket full of Christmas books that we have collected over the years. My tween and teen (and I) become children again, as we listen to each other read aloud our favorites: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, The Polar Express (I always cry at the end), Star Mother's Youngest Child, How Six Found Christmas, Mr. Willoughby's Christmas Tree, all of Jan Brett's books and too many others to list. In recent years, I've introduced A Christmas Carol and A Child's Christmas in Wales. We find chapters in our favorite books that relate to Christmas: the Little House books, The Wind in the Willows, and Little Women.

During Christmas, we also begin to talk about trips we want to take this year and head to the library to check out DVDs and guidebooks to assist us in making our decisions. As this is the season of wishing, we like to cast the net wide, exploring the many possibilities out there on this amazing planet of ours, before zeroing in on one or two corners of the world. Guidebooks with their intriguing maps and Suggested Itineraries, as well as back issues of Travel and Leisure with their glossy pictures and promises of Off-The-Beaten-Path paradises fill our coffee table.

Finally, sometime during Christmas, I find myself pulling off the shelf a book or two that I've enjoyed before, like an old friend who always makes me smile. This year, Santa brought me the remastered Blue-Ray DVD of PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, starring Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle, and there was nothing to be done but to watch it all the way through and then pull out the book and reread it. Next, we watched PERSUASION, also an adaptation of a Jane Austen novel, which I reread as well. My daughters have watched these movies with me before, but for the first time, they also slipped away into corners of the house with the books tucked under their wings and devoured them. The language of Austen was challenging for them, but the heroines fed their souls in a way that the TWILIGHT books never could. It was a joy for me to watch the blossoming of the next generation of Austen fans.

A Change in Altitude by Anita Shreve

I read this novel before the holidays but with all the travelling and relaxing I didn’t have any time to make the post. I’m back at home and with the start of this New Year, I’m recommitted to reading a book a week.

Anita Shreve’s A Change in Altitude takes place in Kenya, Africa. It’s the story of a photojournalist, Margaret and her doctor husband, Patrick, who travel to Africa for Patrick’s research work. The couple drifts apart after a climbing trip to Mt. Kenya goes fatally wrong. Margaret's freelance work for a controversial newspaper, a handsome co-worker, and personal loss drive the couple further apart.

Besides the interesting travelogues there is nothing else appealing about the story. I was attracted to the title because I like to climb mountains and because my husband lived in Africa while in the Peace Corps and climbed Mt. Kenya. As I read the mountain climbing passages I kept checking in with my husband to see if her technical details were right on. Some were and some were not. She did nail the physical challenges of taking on that type of a climb. I also enjoyed reading The Pilot’s Wife, another Shreve book, so I thought this might be comparable. Wrong.

The story is shallow; it attempts to approach some evocative topics, like the political unrest in east Africa and the complexities of cultural differences, but falls short of any real meaningful message. The unraveling of the story line is choppy and lacks direction. It felt like I was reading Margaret’s dairy; her immature lessons of self-discovery and romantic dilemmas. I recommend you skip this one.

Sorry about the quick review but I’m still in a holidaze! Happy New Year!