Goldengrove by Francine Prose

A short review as we’re on the slopes. Goldengrove is my first Francine Prose novel and compared to John Irving’s “Last Night in Twisted River’’s sweeping decades long drama and “In a Perfect World’s’ fascinating premise, this one was a sloooow as molasses. Devastated by the death of her older sister, whom she idolized, Nico, aged 13, spends the summer after Margaret’s tragic drowning accident moving through life with her parents in slow motion. None of them are quite able to function correctly, every room they enter, every day that goes by, reminds them that their daughter/sister has disappeared from their lives. “Our house had always been neat before, but now our possessions had taken advantage of our moment of weakness. … The only semi-comforting part was that we didn’t have to talk. We all dreamed of her. The mystery of death, the riddle of how you could speak to someone and see them every day and then never again, was so impossible to fathom that of course we keep trying to figure it out, even when we were unconscious.”

Nico becomes entangled with Margaret’s boyfriend Aaron, who, obsessed with the loss of his girlfriend, meets secretly with Nico, asking her to wear her sister’s shirts, put on her favorite perfume and watch the same movies they would watch. At first she finds Aaron a comfort, he’s the only one who truly understands what has been lost, but she soon realizes that this unhealthy relationship is turning into something very twisted. Maybe this particular subject matter during this happy holiday season wasn’t the best choice, but it was worth the time and I would recommend it to fans of good writing and intriguing topics.

Thirteen Reasons Why

I have been on a Middle Grade /Young Adult novel kick for a while now, beginning with the book Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, which I read to forget I ever read Twilight (sorry fans). It continued with Kate DiCamillo’s Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane and Cornelia Funke’s Igraine the Brave. I have read a bunch of Sharon Creech novels. Love that Dog. Hate That Cat. Granny Torelli Makes Soup. I actually read this one to my kids; it’s beautiful. In one part, Creech writes “Grandma’s eyes shine with tears” and I just pointed to my own to explain it to them. Walk Two Moons – how did I go so long without reading this book, the Newberry winner? Like the previous Kate DiCamillo post, there is really not a book here that would disappoint you. I am in the midst of When you Reach Me, which is intriguing so far. I think I could read at least three books a week if they were YA, but I will try to be a grownup next time, and attack the large and growing pile of yet-to-be-read books in my house.

But first let me tell you about Jay Asher’s debut novel Thirteen Reasons Why. This is a book I wish I had read freshman year of high school. It may have changed the way I looked at people; it may have helped me be a better person.

Hannah Baker has already committed suicide when the story begins, and her friends are left with this – a shoebox full of cassette tapes she made, that they must listen to and pass along. The author says in an afterward that he specifically chose cassettes since they would already be dated, as opposed to a CD that is current now but will date the story later and distract from the plot. Receiving the package is not a gift – there are thirteen painful sides to listen to, and, if you got them, you are one of the thirteen reasons Hannah is dead.

You listen to the tapes along with Clay, who gets them pretty late in the game, and cannot imagine why he is implicated. He has always had a crush on Hannah, and he is one of the few people to be devastated by her death.

The conceit the author uses to move the tapes along is the threat that there is an identical set that will be released to the public if someone breaks the chain. For some people, this will cause humiliation, shame, and even legal troubles. I found this device intriguing, though I didn’t really think it was necessary. The person Hannah chose to insure the tapes move along was an interesting character, but I could have done without the storyline. It was fascinating to read how seemingly little things could cause and effect a much larger problem. In Hannah’s words, the “snowball effect”.

The rest of the story develops in tandem – we hear Hannah’s voice as Clay hears it, but we also have the benefit of his reaction, which is sometimes agreement and sometimes clarification. The differences in their reconstructions of the same events allow you to intimately see how a person’s perspective can become skewed.

It is a frustrating book; you can only imagine how devastating it would be to know that if you could have taken back a silly comment or a stupid teenage act, things could be different. Suicide is a tricky subject. Tons of books about it, clinically speaking, yet it’s still taboo. I was a little bit jealous of these thirteen kids; despite the sorrows they would suffer, they ultimately knew why she took her life. And, I should also mention, she does not fully blame them. She does admit it is her choice in the end, or else you would be left with the huge unfairness that most of the kids, while they behaved irresponsibly, were just acting like normal teenagers – mean, insensitive and sometimes selfish. Which made me realize how we all behave that way at some point or other, and how lucky we are that people don’t always take it the wrong way.

As an adult, this is the first book I have read in a very long time that made me forget I am a parent, and brought back so clearly all of the angst of being a teenager. It was not necessarily a great place to be, but, as they say, it was better than the alternative.

Catching up...

Excuses, excuses... you know them all so I won't bother to write them. I'm not quite on track with a book a week... close, but not quite. I think that 2010 is going to be the year though...

Over the past few weeks, I have read A Fearful Symmetry which Vanessa reviewed earlier on this blog. When I heard that this book had real ghosts in it, I was fairly sure that I wouldn't like it. I loved Time Traveler's Wife so much though that I decided to give it a try and I'm so glad I did. You can read Vanessa's well written review here so I'll just agree- it is worth a read!

My past week was spent reading The Unhealthy Truth- not a very Christmassy read but a worthwhile one. The author, a mom of a child with an egg allergy, takes the reader through her learning curve after her daughter's diagnosis. The book is both eye opening and alarming. As a mom who spends a lot of time learning about the best foods to feed myself and my family, I learned a lot of new and unhealthy truths.

In an attempt to get back on a weekly schedule, I'm going to stop writing so I can read (Angle of Repose- thanks to Lucy's mention of it in an earlier post!).

Happy Reading and New Year to all!

In a Perfect World by Laura Kasischke

I rarely read books that haven’t been personally recommended by a friend. If I’m in the 3rd floor Fiction section of the library with no list in my hand I’m completely lost. A Jodi Picoult read used to be a pretty good go-to in a pinch but I’ve picked through her books and found them unsatisfying. So when I spotted ‘In a Perfect World’ on the new fiction table I’m not sure what prompted me to pick it up, maybe it was the length. After last week’s massive read I could tell that this 300 pager would be a quick one. I’m happy to report that my random choice turned out to be a good one. This is the story of Jiselle, a flight attendant in her early 30s who has been the single bridesmaid in more than her fair share of weddings. So when handsome pilot Mark Dorn takes an interest and eventually asks her to marry him, life is very good. The fact that he is a widower with 3 children (including 2 hostile teenage girls) seems like an issue she will be able to easily overcome with her spunk and easy manner. And that Mark, as a pilot, travels 5 days a week doesn’t concern her much at first. Time now to mention the underlying theme of the book: The world is coming to an end. Not in a Will Smith “Independence Day” apocalyptic kind of way, no, in Kasischke’s telling, it’s much slower and more painful than that. The Phoenix Flu is beginning to spread throughout the country. It starts in a nursing home where all of the employees suddenly fall ill and die. Then it happens in pockets across the country, seemingly spreading overnight. Even Britney Spears is not immune to this deadly flu (or Martha Stewart or Donald Trump’s son). Animals begin acting strangely; rats appear unafraid in the middle of the day, birds circle in the thousands overhead. Seemingly strange species of creatures cross their paths. Americans are banned from traveling out of the country. The story moves us slowly into life with quarantines, then without hospitals, schools or law enforcement.

Left alone with her 3 stepchildren, Jiselle finds her resilient side, learning to deal with love, loss and sacrifice. It’s not a stretch to say that with the recent swine flu hysteria this becomes a fascinating read. What would you do if you were left with the responsibility of keeping your family alive? What lengths would you go to?

Kasischke is a poet and does a wonderful job of finding beauty in the demise of Jiselle’s crumbling world. Questions are left unanswered about her fate but she makes peace with her life. Wherever it takes her.

Last Night in Twisted River by John Irving

Reading 554 pages in a week was a challenge but I was determined and somehow found the time between writing and researching and doing mom stuff. But before I get to thoughts on this book I need to re-visit the inspiration for this blog. An article in the NYT this fall featured a woman who read a book a day for one year. Three hundred and sixty five books in 365 days, she for the most part limited her book lengths to 300 pages (and yes she does have kids but I believe they are in school full time.. well they’d have to be wouldn’t they?) but after taking on our ‘book a week’ experiment for just 5 weeks I’ve begun to believe that she is lying. Let me explain. My goal with reading 300 page books in a week is to read 50 pages a day. Doable for a stay at home mom who works a bit from home and makes her own hours (and is a night owl). But sometimes, life gets in the way, Take last weekend for instance. We went ski shopping in the morning, had a basketball game in the afternoon and dinner out, far from a full day but our schedule made my 50 pages a challenge. So HOW IN THE HECK does ‘book a day’ blogger read 300 pages a day EVERY DAY for a year. That whole year did she never skied for 3 hours, then cuddled up and watched a movie with her kids? Or spent the afternoon with her sister shopping and then later getting drunk at dinner. How about visiting her ailing aunt for the morning? I know she’s gotten book deals and has a blog on The Huffington Post now because of all her reading and hooray for her, but what else did she accomplish that year? My guess is not much

I’ve always been a John Irving fan. “Prayer for Owen Meany” is laugh out loud funny and I also loved “Garp”, “Cider House Rules” and “Until I Found You”. All of his books are epic in length and tone, spanning decades. This one was no exception. It’s the 5 decade long story of Danny and his dad Dominick (“the cook”) who lived in the logging town of Twisted River until the 12 year old Danny killed Dominick’s lover, Jane, mistaking her for a bear. Unfortunately Jane was also the lover of the local, evil town cop, Constable Carl. This act sets Danny and Dominick off on the run, moving from Boston to Colorado to Toronto, living incognito for decades, with Dominick working in various restaurants, always fearful that evil Constable Carl would find them. Their adventures are typical John Irving fare; grisly accidents, obsessions with quirky women, oddball characters and of course bears.

That Danny becomes a best-selling author who writes fiction but is in fact writing the book we’re reading, makes it all the more fun for those of us trying to have a go at writing ourselves. He (Danny) writes: "In any work of fiction weren’t those things that had really happened to the writer – or perhaps, to someone, the writer had intimately known – more authentic, more verifiably true, than anything anyone could imagine? (This was a common belief, even though a fiction writer’s job was imagining truly, a whole story – as Danny had subversively said, whenever he was given the opportunity to defend the fiction in fiction writing – because real-life stories were never whole, never complete in the ways that novels could be.)” He writes his novels by writing his last line first and first line last. So the book ended, appropriately, back at the beginning…

His characters are endearing, like Ketchum, cook’s best friend who spent his life in sadness because he couldn’t save the lives of those he loved and Ketchum’s sometime girlfriend Six Pack Pam, a ‘hooker with a heart of gold’ who could take down any male in town. Danny eventually goes through multiple tragedies because of his and his father’s actions decades earlier but his journey, living (and writing) ‘in a world of accidents’ was worth the few late nights and skipped meetings in order to finish.

The Book of Dead Birds by Gayle Brandeis

This Bellwether Prize-winning novel, The Book of Dead Birds by Gayle Brandeis is about survival and the complexity of mother-daughter relationships.

Korean-American, Ava Sing Lo, has been unintentionally killing her mother's birds since she was a little girl. Now as a young adult, Ava leaves San Diego, where she has spent the better part of her life, for the Salton Sea, to volunteer helping environmental activists save thousands of birds poisoned by chemicals from farm runoff. Surrounded by death and painful memories, she must face her demons; fortunately she has the help of some special friends.

Ava's mother, Helen, has been troubled by her own past for decades. As a young girl in Korea, Helen was drawn into prostitution on a segregated American army base. Several cruel and brutal years passed before a naïve, young white American soldier married her and took her to California. After giving birth to a baby with dark skin, she's quickly abandoned by her new husband, and left to make a life for herself and her daughter in a foreign country.

The Book of Dead Birds is a very fast read, mostly because of its lyrical prose and engaging characters. It’s also a very intelligent, pungent and beautifully crafted novel. The relationship between mother and daughter is a complex one. This novel explores the deeply-rooted psychological exchange between women who share the same DNA. What passes between Ava and her mother is captured in Ava’s struggle to come to terms with her mother's terrible past while at the same time making a place for herself in the world.

The Book of Dead Birds was the second winner of the Bellwether Prize, established by Barbara Kingsolver. This award is the only major North American prize that specifically advocates literary fiction addressing issues of social justice. “It’s a thrilling search, every time we read the submissions,” Kingsolver said on the Bellwether website. “We always hope for a winner that perfectly embodies the standards and hopes of this endeavor: strong writing, a compelling voice, and clear moral vision."

Before beginning my book-a-week challenge, I also read Mudbound, which was the 2006 winner of the Bellwether Prize. Both of these novels were fabulous. I intend to read the remaining winning novels including The Girl Who Fell From the Sky, the 2008 winner.

When my daughters first began to read independently, I tried to screen which books made it into our home and into their hands. I wanted only wholesome books that entertained while showing respect for life, appreciation of beauty, and preference for goodness over evil. It wasn't long, though, before they began choosing their own books and their appetites for reading quickly outstripped my ability to keep up. I had to let go and trust their instincts for picking good books. Also, as they grew older, they were increasingly able to absorb and move on from bad books. That doesn't mean that I don't continue to come home from the library with a stack that I've selected for them, or ask them lots of questions about what they are reading. And, once in a while, I do like to pick up something they're reading and check it out for myself.

This week I read Elsewhere by Gabrielle Zevin. My sister had recommended it from her mother-daughter book group, and I checked it out of the library for my thirteen-year old. She liked it, so I decided to crack it open. The main character is a fifteen-year old girl named Liz who begins Chapter One by dying in a hit-and-run bicycle accident. She travels by boat to Elsewhere along with all the other people who have recently died and is met at the dock by her maternal grandmother, who died before Liz was born. Grandmother Betty is in her thirties, even though she died at fifty, because in Elsewhere you live backwards, growing younger every year until you are a baby again and make the trip back to Earth to start a new life.

The premise of the book is unusual, and at times gave me the same creepy feeling I had while watching the movie about Benjamin Button, in which the main character was born old and grew young. While I could sympathize with Liz's struggles between holding on to her life and embracing her death/life on Elsewhere, I never quite bought into the concept nor became attached to any of the characters. Having said that, I did shed tears at a few points and found myself wondering What if...Also, the ability of humans to converse with dogs in Canine was cool.

I definitely think this book is appropriate for only a mature 12-yr. old and up, due to some mature topics. While I didn't race to finish it, I did feel like it made me think about life in a different, topsy-turvy way--and that's always a good thing. When I turned the last page, I felt warm and fuzzy and complete, yet looser in my outlook somehow.

Brangelina by Ian Halperin

My intention was to read this trashy book and give y’all the sordid details that everyone wants to know but doesn’t want to get their hands dirty by actually reading it. But ever hear the expression ‘there’s 2 hours of my life I’ll never get back again!’? This was probably more like 4 but that expression applies here. But the whole reason I stuck with it was to get to the best part. The question all true blue Jennifer Aniston/Brad Pitt/tmz.com followers just want to know: (raise your hand if you know what I’m talking about..) How was it that Jen and Brad were on a lovey dovey vacation on a tropical island with their best friends Courtney Cox and David Arquette, holding hands and hugging and like TWO days later announced they were getting divorced? Didn’t get the answer here but did find out the following useless information:

*As 14 year olds, Angelina had moved her boyfriend into her house (where her mom also lived) she was also cutting herself with her knife collection. Meanwhile, Brad was having ‘makeout parties’ with fellow middle schoolers in his basement in Missouri

*Angie was diagnosed as psychotic in high school. Brad was acting in school plays.

*Angie was very close to her dad Jon Voight right up until the time when he announced on TV that his daughter was mentally insane.

*There is a very good chance that her first adopted child (Maddox) was actually taken from his home and ‘sold’ to the person she adopted him from.. sad.

* She was seen full on making out with her brother Jamie at various Hollywood events.

*And the whole blood thing with husband Billy Bob? Yeah it’s that weird.. She once said “He signed a contract in blood with a notary public saying that we’d be together for eternity. Some people think a diamond is really pretty. My husband’s blood is the most beautiful thing in the world to me.” Not so much now, right Ang?

*Despite all of their fawning and disgusting sex talk to the cameras, Billy Bob told the press after their divorce that sleeping with her was like ("not a nice word for making love) a couch."

*Sweet and poor unfortunate (but maybe better off) Jennifer Aniston talked to a reporter early on about kissing Brad: “The first time he kissed me, I stopped breathing. He literally took my breath away.”

*But apparently Brad and Jen spent a lot of time smoking pot together…

*Of COURSE Angelina and Brad hooked up on the set of their movie Mr & Mrs. Smith, contrary to her saying she would never be with a married man..ha!

*Their relationship now, as 'Brangelina', is as much about their ‘brand’.. doing good works around the globe with their squeaky clean reputation and constantly seen leaving restaurants and toy stores with kids in tow… will keep them together long after it’s over, which it probably already is.. the author predicts they will break up within 18 months. .. I give it 6

I won’t go on….

The Year of the Flood, by Margaret Atwood

I was listening to NPR last week, and I heard Margaret Atwood interviewed on the subject of her latest novel, The Year of the Flood. The discussion piqued my interest since I truly loved the first Atwood book I read, The Handmaid’s Tale, although it might have had something to do with the fact that I read it while in college, majoring in women’s studies, political science and philosophy, during my radical feminist stage. I’ve mellowed a bit since then – so I wondered if I’d enjoy this book as much.

The Year of the Flood is a fantastical novel – you might even call it science-fiction. It takes place in a future time when the earth has been plagued by a pandemic that wipes out most of the human population. Untouched by the bio-germ, the two main women characters, Toby and Ren, tell their stories, alternating from past to present, describing how they were able to avoid contamination and survive. Both were former members of a back-to-nature religious cult called the Gardeners, who were founded by “Adam One”. During their time with the Gardeners, they learn how to live simply, organically, and without eating anything with a face. Expressing values diametrically opposed to the greedy, chemically- and physically-altered culture of the ruling “CorpSeCorps”, the Gardeners predict and prepare for the “Waterless Flood” by caching supplies, learning how to grow their own food and foraging for resources.

Atwood presents a chilling, yet possible, outcome for our future here on earth – one that is not that far-fetched based on the current environmental, political, cultural and economic realities. There is just enough legitimacy in this dystopic novel to make you feel that Atwood may be a visionary. She certainly does make you think about what we have been, and are, doing to the natural environment; climate-change, genetically-modified foods, cloning, and all the other human-derived alternations to the nature world. This is a thinker’s work. She compels you to think about how far we can, or should, go in our desire for control over our environment and each other.

Once again, Atwood presents enduring friendships between women as a central theme of the novel. These are real friendships that transcend dishonesty, disappointment and jealousy and forge strong bonds that leave the reader with a sense of hope for the future. My feminist-self was pleased to see this Atwood novel running true to form.

I want to believe that we can reverse the damage we have done to this planet; and get on a course that has a longer-lasting vision for sustainability (for generations to come). I thoroughly enjoyed reading this novel; maybe partly because I can relate to the Gardeners. I, too, don’t eat meat, live in a 100% solar-powered home, grow some of my own foods, and try to limit my carbon emissions – all in an attempt to undo some of the long-lasting harm we have done as a species. Maybe Atwood readers will be encouraged to follow suit in an attempt to avoid some of the outcomes in The Year of the Flood. I can only hope!

Discovering Motherhood

While all you ladies are going out and reading real literature, I'm trying to clean out my bookshelves and return all the books people have lent me through the year. To that end, I read the book Discovering Motherhood by AnneMarie Scobey over the Thanksgiving break. Bet you can't guess the subject matter from the title.

The friend who lent this book to me also gave me the book The Shack to read. Which is why it took me about six months to pick this book up. I HATED The Shack from the first word to the last. The writing was contrived and painful and the strident spiritual message was grating. Having said that, I read every word of the book and still think about it. But that's a different review for another day.

Discovering Motherhood also heavily references the author's religion and spirituality. But in a less aggressive way. Her religion (which happens to be Roman Catholic - same as me) plays a prominent part in the book because it plays a prominent part in her life. At the end of each essay, she writes a one sentence prayer or devotion that relates somehow to the story she's just told. For her, I'm sure it would have been as strange to leave out her religion as it would have been to not mention her husband or one of her kids in the book. So, with that in mind, if any mention of religious beliefs or practices makes you uncomfortable, this might not be the book for you. And if you are not a fan of the RC church, this might not be the book for you.

But really, her subject matter isn't her religion, it's her kids. And her experience of motherhood from the time her second biological child was born through her experiences with the foster care system, ending after her family adopted one of the little girls entrusted to their care. The friend who lent the book to me said Scobey's writing reminded her of my writing, which frankly, also turned me off from reading the book for a while. What if I thought Scobey was a terrible writer - what would that say about my writing? My fragile ego couldn't take it. Luckily, Scobey isn't a terrible writer - she writes succinctly and introspectively. She delves deeper than I usually do in my writing. I aspire to write as well as she does but I'm flattered that someone thinks I already do.

She writes of watching her children grow up, of the toys she no longer has in her house, of the phases her children have passed through once and for all. She writes about tearing up while watching her son receive ashes on his forehead at Ash Wednesday mass. This story really hit home with be because I had the exact same experience when Christopher was a baby. When they trace the cross on your forehead with ashes, they say, "Remember you are from dust and to dust you will return". There's something about hearing someone say this to your kid that's just a little freaky. She writes about being afraid her kid(s) will be abducted. She writes about not wanting her sons to become priests. She writes about the pain of giving up a foster child she has cared for for over a year. She writes about the everyday, the commonplace, the ordinary. And, most importantly to me right now, she writes about parenting a newborn.

I'm not sure if I picked up this book knowing what it was about and needing to get some fortification for the road ahead or if I was led to this book by God or the Universe(depending on who you believe in). What I do know is that it was the right book for me to read at the right time in my life. The subtitle of this book is "An Extraordinary Journey through Everyday Life" and it was. It was a gift that has reminded me that I need to slow down and enjoy these last few days with my family of four, even as we eagerly wait for the day when we round ourselves out with our fifth member. It has reminded me that though my kids are so big these days, they will never be this small again. For the girl who, these days, has an attention span of no more than ten minutes, this book was a great choice. It almost made me forgive my friend for making me read The Shack.

Kate DiCamillo

Last week, our family shared coughs, fevers, ear infections, sinus infections and lot of time for reading. During that time, I became ambitious. I love reading children's books, almost as much as grown up books. Or maybe more? I guess that's a whole different blog post but anyway...

During our week of sickness, I began a Kate DiCamillo marathon. I decided I would read all of her books (not including the Mercy Watson series or Because of Winn Dixie which I had already read) and post here about them all. I envisioned a long and insightful post. I even thought this post could turn into an essay. I took notes. I underlined. I noticed striking similarities between each of the books and wondered if all authors share such strong themes among their books.

And then this week began. After being out of commission for a week, the week of catch up left little time for reading. I have spent the week trying to finish The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane while crafting my witty essay in my head.

The competitiveness in me requires that I write this post now- minus the wittiness in order to record that I have, in fact, read many more than one book this week.

While each of these books deserves a post of it's own and a reading by anyone who appreciates beautiful writing, each book will appear instead in a list to document that this week I read:

The Tale of Despereaux
Tiger Rising
The Magician's Elephant
And most of The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane

America America by Ethan Canin

My friend Kate, who has never let me down in the book recommendation department (Wallace Stegner’s Angle of Repose… need I say more?) told me Ethan Canin’s novel was a good read. 450 plus pages in a week is a stretch for me but I made it under the wire. This novel, set in the early 1970s Nixon era, tells the story of Corey Sifter, the only son of working class parents, who works as an errand boy on the estate of the town’s most powerful family, the Metareys. During his time there, as a young teen, then on weekends from boarding school (funded by the Metareys), he becomes involved with the campaign of their Ted Kennedy-esque senator friend Henry Bonwiller, who is running for president. Corey becomes intimately involved with the ins and outs (as well as the down and dirty) of the campaign while also becoming entangled in the lives of the two Metarey daughters. The Kennedy connection carries through the novel in the character of Bonwiller, a ‘for the working man’ beloved liberal whose fatal flaws, alcohol and the involvement in the death of a young campaign worker in a car accident, becomes the ultimate downfall of both his campaign and the dreams of those who believed in him. Canin’s story telling is amazing, he weaves no less than five different time frames of Corey’s life into the story, switching seamlessly (in no particular order) from his teens to the present day, to his boarding school years, college and post-college,. And he writes beautifully about being a son and later, a parent to three daughters: “I’ve watched our own girls move away now – first to sleepovers, then to summer camps, then to college and boyfriends, then to jobs and husbands. I wonder how we’ve fared with them. I wonder which of our idle words have wounded them and which, years later and a thousand miles away, have buoyed them; which of our hopes have lifted them over the daunting obstacles in their lives and which have pressed back against their own ideas of themselves.” This book is a wonderful mix of a compelling, page turner and the thoughtfully written story of a man’s reflection of his life.

Home: A Novel by Marilynne Robinson

As many of us prepare to go home for the holidays, Marilynne Robinson’s Home reminds us that there are times of both joy and pain when returning to the family and places of our childhood. This wonderfully written novel tells the story of the Boughtons, an Iowa family tormented by their past and unable to imagine a future. Glory, nearing midlife, returns to her childhood home in Gilead (the Gilead of Robinson’s Pulitzer Prize–winning novel of the same name) to care for her dying father. Her older brother Jack, the prodigal son, comes home to his family after a twenty-year hiatus to try and make peace with his plagued past. Jack and Glory form a new bond based on their shared family secrets, past and present; and as they watch their father slipping away they must come to terms with who they have been and who they could become.

Jack is a fabulous character; brilliant, endearing and rebellious. Perpetually at odds with his surroundings and with his preacher-father, this black sheep of the family struggles to return home to face his demons. Jack is one of those people who is loved greatly but constantly disappoints those who love him. Glory and her father make great effort to help Jack forgive himself and in the process heal themselves. Home is a memorable story of the deepest and most common emotions; love, compassion, obligation, pain and fear.

I was surprised to have enjoyed this novel as much as I did because Robinson’s Pulitzer-prize winning novel Gilead was one of the few Pulitzers that I didn’t like at all. Home definitely has that religious-speak that forced me to abandon Gilead before I was finished, but Home is less religious and more reflective in its nature, more readable. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m about to embark on my own return for the holidays, which gave me such empathy and compassion for the characters of Home.

Robinson writes, “And then their return to the pays natal, where the same old willows swept the same ragged lawns, where the same old prairie arose and bloomed as negligence permitted. Home. What kinder place could there be on earth, and why did it seem to them all like exile?” For many, and perhaps for Jack and Glory, we are no longer the people we were when we all lived at home with our families. We are different; different in ways that are not fully understood. Distance, time and life experience can sometimes create a disconnection that is keenly felt when returning home. Home is a universal paradox: where a familiar place intersects with an unfamiliar you.

May we all feel reconnected in the healthiest ways with home, family and ourselves this holiday season!

The Lost Symbol, by Dan Brown

I know exactly where I was when I read Dan Brown's book The DaVinci Code. We had flown down to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico to spend a week with Mark's parents in their timeshare. My mother-in-law was reading the book when we arrived, and she spent many hours sequestered in her bedroom with it. Then, she handed the book to Mark and he caught it like a virus, declining invitations to come out for lunch so he could just keep going. He was "out of it" for a couple of days, and then he rejoined the world of the living. It was my turn. From page one, I was hooked. I remember sitting on the patio with the ocean breezes chilling me, but not wanting to go inside where two little girls would demand my attention. I remember sitting by the pool, my swimsuit going to waste as I became caught up in the relentless pace of the story. It was OK, though. All the adults understood, and we raised our grand/daughters together that week so that, one at a time, each of us could surrender to the wild ride of this book.

So it was with great forethought that I purchased Brown's newest book, The Lost Symbol, for Mark's October birthday. It took him awhile to get around to reading it, but I wasn't bothered, as long as he finished it by the end of November. I had my eye on Thanksgiving week as the perfect time to come down with a bad case of Dan Brown. We would be in the car for 13 hours, then guests of my in-laws for a week (again!). There would be old friends in Oak Park to see, and pies to bake, of course, but if I timed things right, I could get swept away and recover in time to meet all of my obligations. It worked like a charm. I really enjoyed The DaVinci Code, so I tried to keep my expectations low. Once again, I found myself staying up 'til all hours and waking up early (unheard of!) to read. On Monday morning, Mark brought me tea in bed at 10:30, with a not-so subtle hint that I might want to think about getting dressed before too long. The family was beginning to ask after me!

I devoured the book in the course of two days, and enjoyed almost every minute of it (with the exception of the grisly, violent scenes Brown seems to favor). Professor Robert Langdon is back, along with familiar character types: the fanatical villain, the aging mentor, the smart and lovely heroine along with the government agent who is working against Langdon (or is she?). In fact, although the setting and context are completely different, the book does read exactly like The DaVinci Code in terms of the author's didacticism and frequent lapses into history lectures, and the breakneck speed of the plot which takes place over an extremely short period of time. While the themes surrounding the mystery are not nearly as controversial as those of the knights templar, Mary Magdalen, the Holy Grail, etc. from Brown's earlier book, they were equally compelling but more relevant, and potentially life-altering to me. Most importantly, I can't wait to travel to Washington, D.C. again and look at its famous landmarks with the new perspective and insight given to me by Dan Brown. I recommend The Lost Symbol, with this qualification: make sure you carve out a couple of days to read it undisturbed, because once you enter the first page, you won't want to come up for air until you read the last.

Meditations of John Muir: Nature’s Temple

A few weeks ago, I received a package in the mail from Amazon. Neither my husband nor I had ordered anything so this came as a pleasant surprise. As it turned out, a beloved friend had sent us Ken Burns’ new DVD series, The National Parks: America’s Best Idea. Since we are avid hikers and outdoor adventurers who happen to live on the side of a mountain, she thought we’d enjoy this wonderful, historical account of the country’s national parks. She was right!

Throughout the six-disk series, writers and historians recounted the words and sentiments of John Muir, a naturalist and patriarch of the American environmental movement. With every passage read, I became convinced that he was as close as I could come to finding a spiritual prophet. I knew John Muir was one of the founders of the Sierra Club and that he helped conceive the national park system, but I had no idea that he wrote such beautifully inspiring and poetic scripture. I was hooked. I had to have more.

For this Thanksgiving week, I thought it would be apropos to read some of his writings. Thankful that my friend had sent the series and thankful to rediscover this connection inspired me to devour Meditations of John Muir: Nature’s Temple by Chris Highland. This is a short book of passages of John Muir’s writing. Highland writes, “John Muir (1838–1914) made enticement a spiritual quality. His enthusiastic preaching for the natural world sprang directly from his joyful immersion in the soul of it all.”

Thankfully, Highland doesn’t spend too much time giving you his own impressions of Muir’s impact; instead he realizes that reading these passages will speak for itself. He does capture the essence of Muir by saying that, “Every spiritual lesson we need is subtly and spectacularly evident in Nature…mostly I have learned it in Muir’s teeming forest. He teaches that we can step out beyond the books, the traditions, the philosophies that restrict the free rivering of our minds and dam the creativity of our communities; we may follow our streams into forests yet to be found. “

This is a read for those who love nature and find peace and joy there. Muir captures in words what many find impossible to truly express when they peer upon such awe-inspiring sights as the Grand Canyon or Yosemite. He teaches us that in nature we can truly know ourselves in a way that only happens when you’re immersed in it. He writes, “Keep close to Nature’s heart, yourself; and break clear away, once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean from the earth-stains of this sordid, gold-seeking crowd in God’s pure air. It will help you in your efforts to bring to these people something better than gold.”

After you have your Thanksgiving feast, step outside and take a deep breath, feel the cool crisp autumn air on your skin, notice a tree mostly shed of its leaves, smell the change of season and the end of a cycle – you are part of the next beginning.

The School of Essential Ingredients, Part 2

Again without the picture... not sure why I was good at it at first. Beginners luck perhaps!

There is one benefit to having sick children at home- extra tv for them and extra reading time for me. Our tv time is so limited on a regular basis that it is freeing to have an excuse to say, "Sure, one more program is fine." Both girls have had fevers, headaches and coughs on and off since Saturday and truly all they have felt like doing is watching tv. As they have watched, I have read. Everyone seems well now so I will have to find more time in my day through other means. It has felt great to finish two books in such a short time- like a mini vacation- despite the bottles of Tylenol and Motrin lining the kitchen window sill.

Today I finished The School of Essential Ingredients. Even after turning the last page, I can't wrap my mind around this book. Many times, it felt over written. The imagery, similes and metaphors felt forced. The attention to the senses in all the descriptions felt overpowering. I longed for a sentence without description. I did feel, though, like I got to know the characters despite their fleeting appearances. One chapter was devoted to each student in Lillian's cooking class- barely enough pages to get to understand a person but in many cases I did.

My favorite line appeared early in the book. As Lillian's story unfolds, we learn that she cooked as a way to bring her mother out of herself after her father leaves them. Lillian's friend tells her that her skill as a cook is a gift from her mother. Shocked, as her mother never cooked and never cared for her, Lillian looks at Abuelita skeptically.

To which Abuelita wisely responds,

"Sometimes, nina, our greatest gifts grow from what we are not given."

The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down

A pediatrician friend who teaches first year medical students requires that they read The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, the true story of the clash between the Lees, a Hmong family from Laos, with seven children and medical staff in a small hospital in Merced, California. After reading the book it’s easy to see why. A few months after her birth the Lee’s infant daughter Lia began experiencing seizures from epilepsy (in Hmong, epilepsy translates to ‘the spirit catches you and you fall down’). Because the Lees spoke no English and were inherently mistrustful of both Americans and the medical profession, a series of misunderstandings and mistakes were set in motion that lead to the worsening of Mia’s condition. Author Anne Fadiman spent over ten years researching Lia’s case and getting to know the family as well as all of the medical personnel involved in the story. Beyond that she also tells the fascinating and heartbreaking history of the Hmong people, their hundreds of years of nomadic living as well as their belief in spirits, gods and shamans (in their culture those with epilepsy were actually seen as ‘fit for divine office, often becoming shamans. Their seizures were thought to be evidence that they have the power to perceive things that other people cannot see.”) The story of Lia and her family struggling to survive in America is interspersed with the history of the Hmong people who fought on our side in the Vietnam War but were treated as lower class citizens when they immigrated to the States a decade later.

There are no ‘bad guys’ in this book. When doctors prescribe medication to help ease Lia’s seizures and her parents refuse to give them to her, it isn’t surprising that authorities are called in to take Lia away and put her in foster care, if only to try to make her well. The Lees, however, strongly believed that through rituals (like animal sacrifices and shamans) and prayer they could make Lia better on their own. The language barrier issue is unquestionably the most puzzling piece of this puzzle. When doctors tried to talk to the Lees they used whatever Hmong translators they could find, whether it was a janitor who worked in the hospital or the Lees younger daughter, not realizing that communication was at the root of the problems they were experiencing. Each side questioned the others motive yet each passionately wanted to do what was best for Lia. The story of what eventually became of Lia and her family is both heartbreaking and enlightening.

Fadiman’s style of nonfiction writing in a storyteller’s voice makes this book captivating, absorbing and the story of the Hmong people stays with the reader long after the last page has been read.

The Housekeeper and the Professor

I have now tried three times to upload the pretty blue cover of this book and have decided that the 'three strikes and you're out' rule applies to this blog. I finished The Housekeeper and the Professor two days ago, ahead of the weekly schedule, and I think that technology shouldn't slow down my posting.

I discovered this title while reading the Indie Fall/Winter flyer. I can spend a lot of time reading over the titles and the recommendations written in these flyers. Each title is reviewed by an independent bookseller, their bookstore named below their recommendation. Sometimes the names of the stores are almost as fun to learn about as the books. As someone who dreams of having her own bookstore one day, I am always on the look out for a great name...

The Housekeeper and the Professor caught my eye immediately as the professor suffers from brain injury. I spent two years working as a speech pathologist with brain injured patients and found the work beyond fascinating. The twist in this story is that the professor suffered an injury that leaves him with functioning memory of the time before the car accident but only eighty minutes of memory for all after the accident. To compensate, this brilliant mathematician pins notes to his rumpled suits to remind him of important information.

Throughout the book, the professor teaches the housekeeper and her son about prime numbers, amicable numbers and the function of the elliptical curve. As a person who has always disliked math, even I became intrigued through the professor's teaching. I came to wish this man had sat across from me in seventh grade math. Had he, I might have gone down a very different road. A born teacher, the professor "seemed convinced that children's questions were much more important than those of an adult. He preferred smart questions to smart answers."

Yoko Ogawa's writing is translated from Japanese which at times effects the flow of the story. For the most part though, the writing is almost poetic despite the mathematical subject matter. We learn through this story much about not only math but humanity. We learn that perhaps math is truth in just the same way that love is truth.

The following is what I took away from this powerful book:

"The mathematical order is beautiful precisely because it has no effect on the real world. Life isn't going to be any easier, nor is anyone going to make a fortune, just because they know something about prime numbers. Of course, lots of mathematical discoveries have practical applications, no matter how esoteric they may seem...But those things aren't the goal of mathematics. The only goal is to discover the truth."

Her Fearful Symmetry... a Haunting Book by Audrey Niffenegger

I am posting an edited version of what I posted to my blog... hope this not a faux pas.

I am just finishing Audrey Niffenegger's latest novel, Her Fearful Symmetry. The subject matter is completely different from the Time Traveler's Wife, no time traveling, and no encounters between soul mates at different periods in their lives, but it has the same haunting effect on the reader. You will keep on pondering its premise long after you've put it down.

Aundrey Niffenegger interweaves four fascinating themes in this novel: twins, ghosts, obsessive compulsive disorder and grief. I wanted to read more about each of the themes, equally disturbed by twins who refer to themselves as "we" and a man who knows he is ill, but yet continues to wash the floor with bleach as his cracked hands bleed.

The novel begins with the death of Elspeth, a middle-aged twin living in London. She dies alone, unable to call out to her partner Robert who has just stepped out to buy a candy bar in the hallway. Elspeth had stopped speaking to her twin, Edwina, after she eloped with Elspeth's fiance, Jack. From beyond the grave, Elspeth manages to get her revenge, by leaving her London flat to Edwina and Jack's daughters (twins with a striking resemblance to their mother and her twin) provided they live in it for a year before selling it. The revenge lies in the stipulation that Jack and Edwina are not allowed to step foot in the apartment, thereby separating the girls from their parents for a year.

The two girls arrive in London and move into the apartment, still filled with Elspeth's books and furniture. Although the girls are in their twenties, they have not begun working, and seem to float in and out of colleges without ever finishing. Valentina is eager to settle down and finish her studies, but Julia, her listless twin, keeps forcing her to quit.

And so Elspeth begins to haunt them in earnest, attempting to connect with her nieces in death, as she could not in life. But the girls are haunted by more than the ghost of their aunt. There is also Robert, Elspeth's lover who refuses to make contact with them but follows them from a distance around town, Martin, their obsessive compulsive neighbor who scrubs the floors above their heads, as well as their own relationship as they struggle unsuccessfully to forge lives with some degree of independence from each other. All of this takes place on or around the grounds of Highgate Cemetary, with its elaborate Victorian tombs, where Elspeth is buried.

Her Fearful Symmetry is the type of novel that makes its way into your dreams because of the power of Niffenegger's story setting. As I read it, I could feel the fine London rain and could close my eyes to imagine the landscape of beautiful abandoned tombs and mausoleums. I normally loathe stories and movies about ghosts, but found myself cheering for Elspeth, believing in her life after death, and hoping that she would finally right the injustice she suffered, while teaching her nieces how to avoid the same mistakes.

I wonder if this novel, like the Time Traveler's Wife, will also be turned into a movie. Niffenegger's intriguing characters and exotic locales seem to lend themselves powerfully to that medium. However, if Hollywood does snap Her Fearful Symmetry up, I will certainly avoid seeing it, as I avoided The Time Traveler's Wife movie, preferring to keep the mental images she gave me with her words unspoiled.

Half Broke Horses, part 2

When Jeanette Walls wrote her first book The Glass Castle a few years back she was best known (to me at least) as the gossip columnist for msnbc.com, writing snippets about celebs like Paris Hilton and Jude Law. So it was surprising that she produced such a well written and touching memoir about growing up poor. Raised by parents she adored, Rose Mary and Rex, who by any standards would be considered unfit and even abusive, Walls and her siblings were frequently uprooted and moved to new places, each one in worse shape than the one they left behind. Her optimistic outlook on their dire circumstances and the way she writes, with humor, about overcoming her upbringing and becoming a success, was poignant. In particular her mother, clearly mentally unstable was a curious character. So in Walls’ new book Half Broke Horses, a ‘true life novel’ it isn’t surprising that she delves into the background of her mom when she tells the story of the life of her grandmother Lily Casey Smith.

The book, told in Lily’s voice, begins on an August afternoon on their family farm in west Texas. She writes, “Those old cows knew trouble was coming before we did.” When the animals started to act “all bothered, stiff legged and straight tailed” Lily pressed her ear to the ground and felt a rumbling. She got up, grabbed her brother and sister’s hands and ran for the tallest tree they could find and climbed to the top just as a flash flood slammed into the tree. Thus began her story. Written in short chapters, only about two pages each, it reads more like a diary than a novel which makes it a very quick read. She writes of her childhood breaking horses for her crippled dad, leaving home at age 15 to travel 500 miles on horseback for a teaching job on the frontier. Walls doesn’t lose her penchant for humor when she writes of Lily’s mom: “Mom didn’t quite know what to make of me. She feared she might have trouble marrying me off because I didn’t have the makings of a lady. I was a little bowlegged, for one thing. Mom said it was because I rode horses too much. Also, my front teeth jutted out, so she bought me a red silk fan to cover my mouth. Whenever I laughed or smiled too big, Mom would say, “Lily dear, the fan.” Lily lives life to the fullest, flying airplanes, driving a ‘taxi’ (actually a hearse), surviving the suicide of her sister and running a ranch with her husband.

Though worth the read, Half Broke Horses, doesn’t have the emotional impact of Glass Castle, maybe because even though it was her family’s story she was telling, it wasn’t her own and though she was careful to tell how brave, strong and tough her grandmother was, I wish Lily could have had a crack at telling her own story, just like her granddaughter did.

Laura Rider's Masterpiece

Please don't expect the typical, intense and deep Jane Hamilton novel from Laura Rider's Masterpiece because you'll be disappointed in this read. However, if you're looking for a light, amusing and short book (a little over 200 pages) you should give it a try. Jane Hamilton really knows how to tell a story!

Laura Rider, childless entrepreneur, has a secret desire to write a romance novel about the “Every” woman. Bored with her Midwestern life she decides marriage isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be and embarks on a selfish manipulation of her husband, Charlie, and her idol, Jenna Faroli, a public radio host; all to obtain material for her novel. Laura has decided to stop sleeping with her husband and so encourages an affair between Charlie and Jenna. This is an interesting new twist on the Machiavellian theme.

If you enjoy reading about the human condition and think you have an ounce of emotional intelligence you will find this novel interesting and fun to read. The characters are well developed and the story, as it unfolds, keeps you wanting more. For women in midlife who are beginning to experience the physical changes of aging there is much to consider from both of the female characters. And, for anyone who has secretly dreamed of being a writer themselves this book poses some important, and yet sometimes elitist, points.

As a 45 year old, childless entrepreneur, I found myself intrigued by this book. This is not your typical trashy novel about sex, love and adultery. Jane Hamilton, even though this is not her usually heady stuff, tells a compelling story with interesting characters. If you’re looking for an intellectual read stay away from this book.

Should you prefer something a lot smarter, you must read some of Jane Hamilton's other books. I highly recommend The Book of Ruth, The Short Life of a Prince, Map of the World and Obedience.

This Lovely Life

I love it when a book comes at just the right time. This Lovely Life, written by Vicki Forman, has been sitting in my pile since it's release but I just opened it's pages last week. I have followed Vicki's writing since first discovering her on Literary Mama and then on her own blog over a year ago. As I was familiar with her writing, I knew that Vicki's book would be a treasure, one that would stick with me. Given it's topic, the birth her extremely premature twins, the death of one and the early childhood of the other, I knew the reading would be intense. What I did not know were the lessons it would teach.

Caroline's anxiety was sky high this weekend. She is scheduled for her second sleep study on Wednesday and her mind is adrift with worry and the 'unfairness' of life. She lashed out at Katherine, at me and Rob. Never able to settle into play or even to relax as I read aloud to her. Needless to say, this was a long weekend for each of us.

For me, though, I took 'breaks' from my life to dive into Vicki's. This Lovely Life, being the book from which I couldn't escape. At one point, I followed Katherine as she rode her scooter, my book held up in front of me as I walked. She asked why I couldn't keep up with her and I responded that it was hard to walk and read at the same time. Even as I said this, I knew I should put the book down but I just couldn't.

As I read, I desperately needed the book to be over. I needed to run away from the suffering but also from the intensity of Vicki's persistence and love of her son. The emotions were too strong and I needed to shut them down. As I read though, I couldn't help thinking of the obvious. I could put this book down. Soon it would be over. But Vicki could not close her book. Living with a multiply disabled son was her life. And instead of titling her book, 'This Hard Life', the title is 'This Lovely Life.'

As I struggled to settle Caroline and remembered the annoyance of needing to sleep with her at the hospital as machines measured any improvements in apnea and restless leg, I thought of Vicki and her lovely life.

And embraced my own...my own lovely life.

Half Broke Horses

Last week, I began reading and writing for this blog- A Book A Week. I immediately fell in love with the idea and began to read feverishly. Always an avid reader, I was thrilled for the challenge. My reading has always been an aside. Something I get to when everything else is done. It's not like my writing though... I do eventually get to it- always. I always have a book. I can't remember a time in my life when I haven't been in the middle of a something. Each time I finish book, I feel the need to start a new one right away... scared of the nebulous purgatory of not having a "book."

With the idea of A Book A Week, there was a goal surrounding my reading. There was a reason to read before the dishes were done or the laundry folded. There was a reason to read instead of checking e-mail. There was a reason to sit with Katherine while she watched Little Bear- chiming in about Little Bear's foibles while quietly turning the pages of Half Broke Horses.

I read Jeanette Wall's first book the Glass Castle, with strong combined feelings of love and hate. The book feeling to me like the car wreck you just can't turn away from despite your fear. Half Broke Horses is a True Life Novel- a memoir that has too much invention to be a true memoir. The story told is of Jeanette's grandmother and within her tale, Jeanette's mother, Rosemary, was revealed. As a novel, the book fell flat. The language plain, the characters relatively under-developed. In reading, I felt Jeanette Walls should stick with memoir and journalism and leave fiction to others.

The School of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermeister

I have two daughters, 11 and 13, who read between 3 and 5 books a week. Often, when they finish a book, they tell me, "Mom, you should really read this. It's so good." I dutifully add the title to my list, knowing that I probably will never get to it. I have enough trouble getting through the Sunday New York Times newspaper that is delivered to my doorstep each weekend, the couple of magazines to which I subscribe, and the one book chosen by my book group for discussion each month. So when Lucy came up with the idea of reading a book a week, and blogging about it, I embraced the challenge. I've got to show my girls I can keep up!

When I climbed into bed at the end of a long day to read the final chapter of Erica Bauermeister's book The School of Essential Ingredients, I felt like tucking a napkin under my chin. I had fallen into the comfortable rhythm of this book, and was looking forward to savoring vicariously one last delectable Slow Food meal and the interwoven peek into the private life of the last of the eight students whom I had been getting to know. The conclusion did not disappoint, and when I closed the book, I had a satisfied feeling in both my stomach and my heart.

Each chapter takes the reader into the intimacy of Lillian's restaurant kitchen for one of a series of eight Monday night cooking classes, and also into the past of that night's student "helper". To call them cooking classes, however, is to miss the point. They are more like life lessons, intuitively aimed at exactly what that week's special student needs at that moment. Even in her childhood, Lillian is wise about life and food: "It was the cooking that occurred in her friends' homes that fascinated Lillian--the aromas that started calling to her just when she had to go home in the evening. Some smells were sharp, an olfactory clatter of heels across a hardwood floor. Others felt like the warmth in the air at the far end of summer. Lillian watched as the scent of melting cheese brought children languidly from their rooms, saw how the garlic made them talkative, jokes expanding into stories of their days. Lillian thought it odd that not all mothers seemed to see it--Sarah's mother, for instance, always cooked curry when she was fighting with her teenage daughter, its smell rocketing through the house like a challenge." It's no wonder her students look forward each week not just to sampling her food, but to being in her presence and listening to her voice, as did I each evening as I curled up to read. The descriptions of the meal preparations are a feast for the senses and the portraits of the students and Lillian herself are just as rich.

If you love food and are yearning for an escape from the busy-ness of your life, you'll delight in the slowness and deliciousness of this book. You might even find yourself dashing out, not to your favorite restaurant, but to the produce section of your favorite market to linger among the apples, holding them to your nose and inhaling deeply, as I did. Through reading this book, I became one of Lillian's students as well, wishing that I could stumble into her kitchen in my neighborhood and be nourished by her food and words of wisdom, like these: "It's not easy to slow our lives down. But just in case we need a little help, we have a natural opportunity, three times a day, to relearn the lesson."

Mudbound by Hillary Jordan, is an unblinking view of race relations in post WW2 Mississippi. Set on a remote cotton farm owned by the McAllan family and sharecropped by the Jacksons, a black family, it is written, chapter by chapter in the voices of members of both families.

Laura, married to Henry McAllan, the farm’s owner, begins her first chapter with the words ‘When I think of the farm I think of mud. Limning my husband’s fingernails and encrusting the children’s knees and hair.’ Raised in Memphis, her move to Marietta was not of her choosing when Henry surprised her with the news he had bought a farm. From there the story moves seamlessly through the voices of folks like Ronsel Jackson, son of sharecroppers Hal and Florence, just returned from fighting in Europe where black men were if not treated equally, at least left alone and given a measure of respect. Ronsel’s thorny transition, moving from a place where he could openly dance, spend time and fall in love with a white woman, to returning home where, as a black man, he was unable to exit a grocery store from the front door or ride in the front seat of his (white) friend’s car. (Unbelievable to read that this treatment was possible for any human being, much less one who was called to serve his country.) But the spotlight on racism doesn’t stop with the folks in the grocery store. Even likeable characters such as Laura and Henry believe in their hearts that blacks had their place, and it wasn’t on their front porches or in their homes, unless (like Florence and Hap) they worked for them.

The story takes us into the mind of Henry’s brother Jamie, also just back from the war, shattered by what he had done and seen as an army pilot, dropping bombs on innocent people. Says Henry: “The war broke my brother, in his head where no one could see it.” Jamie’s appearance on the farm sets in motion a series of events that would shatter the lives of everyone involved. Not surprisingly, the Klan shows up (though of course, they were there all along), and naturally Ronsel is on the receiving end of their sickening hatred.

The only voice not heard, without a doubt the least likeable character in the book is Henry and Jamie’s father Pappy. A racist from the inside out, he spews his hatred every chance he gets. Even his son Jamie is not immune from his extreme disgust.

A twist in the end, while giving hope for the future of those in the book, doesn’t successfully take the taste of sadness and gloom out of your mouth. Small acts of kindness could never erase the pain and hardships those on the receiving end of such misery felt every day for most of their lives.

Jordan, a first time writer, writes beautifully of redemption, sacrifices and ultimately some measure of forgiveness.

PLEASE don't wait to post if you've read a book you love! I won't get to my book review until wed... when my 7 days are up!!

Caroline and Lucy created this blog to challenge themselves to read a book a week then post reviews on books they have read.