Shadow Tag by Louise Erdrich

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.

At Large and at Small by Anne Fadiman

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.

The Hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb

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.

American Music by Jane Mendelsohn

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.

That Old Cape Magic by Richard Russo

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 Secret Kept by Tatiana de Rosnay

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?

The Moonlight Man by Paula Fox

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.

March by Geraldine Brooks

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.

Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson

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.

Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese

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?