The Art of Keeping Cool by Janet Taylor Lisle

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.

The Last Dickens by Matthew Pearl

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.

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

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.

Abide with Me by Elizabeth Strout

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.

Juliet Naked by Nick Hornby

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.

Salem Falls by Jodi Picoult

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.

Freedom by Jonathan Franzen

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!)

What Remains by Carole Radziwill

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 15^th. Ironically, this book centers on the next day, July 16^th, 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.

Juliet, Naked by Nick Hornby

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 from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh and Poetry (July/Aug 2010)

'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.