enjoying the books.

Posted on April 13, 2011 by pagesofjulia

I just want to post a quick note that I’m really enjoying my reading life these days. (This is probably due in part to having just finished the semester and thereby finding some unaccustomed free time.) I have just a few pages left in Hotel du Lac (Anita Brookner) and will finish today, probably to go back to the final pages of By-Line: Ernest Hemingway that I left unfinished. I’m listening to Gone Tomorrow (Lee Child) in the car which is a guilty but delicious pleasure. It’s a good life. That is all. 🙂

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Love You More by Lisa Gardner

Posted on April 13, 2011 by pagesofjulia

My first experience with Lisa Gardner was an overwhelmingly positive one. I’d been attracted by reviews and descriptions of this recent release for weeks, and was excited to find it available to me right before leaving for our road trip to Arkansas at the beginning of the month.

A few key elements:

  • female detective with personal life. Detective D.D. Warren’s former boyfriend is also her former work-partner, and in this book she has to work with him once again. Her current boyfriend is largely off-screen. She’s pregnant and in denial about it.
  • female state trooper has apparently shot her husband who has apparently been beating her. Tessa’s six-year-old daughter is missing. Tessa is well acquainted with processes of criminal investigation, etc., and therefore very able to assist, or thwart, D.D.’s efforts to figure out why the husband is dead, why Tessa shot him (she did shoot him, right?) and most importantly, where’s little Sophie?
  • suspense!! edge-of-my-seat, staying-up-too-late-on-Thursday-and-Friday-nights-before-my-big-race-on-Sunday (thank goodness I finished it before Saturday night), thrilling, adrenaline-junkie suspense.
  • police procedural with all the details, including interdepartmental pissing contest.
  • strong sense of place. I’m not real familiar with Boston but the details felt authentic to me; neighborhoods, social strata, housing trends and home values are discussed. This was very much a real place.

These are some elements that make me very, very happy about genre fiction. This is some of my favorite stuff. As I’ve mentioned repeatedly in this blog, I have a theory that the current trend in fiction (apparently even in my beloved bloody-violent genre) is themes of maternity and family, and it tends to annoy me a bit. These themes were present here: D.D. is panicking over her unwanted pregnancy and the idea of reconciling it with a career in law enforcement; Tessa provides a perfect example of how wrong this combination can go. The two women’s situations are clearly not only entwined but allegorical. This didn’t bother me a bit. D.D. is all business, no mushiness, no sentiment. Tessa loves her daughter very much, but it’s not mushy for her either. They’re both strong women, and I was fine with the maternal angles in this case.

This was a murder mystery that had everything I ask for, including wild plot twists (I was so caught off guard! repeatedly!) and surprises, and a wild build-up of action and violence to the finish. And yea, okay, some of the final crescendo of action and gore was a bit unrealistic but come on, I don’t read this kind of book because it’s realistic in its minutia. It was well within my ability to comfortably suspend disbelief.

All the thumbs are up. I shall be seeking out more Lisa Gardner. Well done!

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The Mapping of Love and Death by Jacqueline Winspear

Posted on April 11, 2011 by pagesofjulia

It’s that time again! Time for the Maisie Dobbs Read-Along!

This week’s book is The Mapping of Love and Death, and of course the title is significant. Our mystery is the questionable wartime death of a young American man who enlisted with the Brits (in WWI) as a cartographer; he was allowed to do this because of his extraordinary skill and training in the field, and because of his father’s British origins. Maisie is struck by the young man’s very likable family, who are attacked in their hotel immediately after meeting with her, and land in the hospital in critical condition.

Maisie tracks the mystery of what turns out to be a murder in the trenches (characteristically, delving into the war-related past to solve a mystery of the present), as well as the question of what happened to the cartographer’s sweetheart. As a bonus, of course, she solves the attack on the parents, too. In what is almost becoming a predictable format, the past – in this case, the father’s familial past in Britain before his emigration – plays an important role. We see some tragedy in this book, but things are ultimately resolved to general satisfaction in terms of the mystery.

Two important things happen in Maisie’s world: Maurice Blanche, her lifetime mentor, friend, and father figure, dies. And she takes on a new beau, far more promising than anyone we’ve met so far, because she has a truly emotional reaction to him rather than being detachedly “fond” as she was of Dr. Dene. The new beau is James Compton, son of her patroness the Lady Rowan, and I suppose I’m (naturally) naive to the difference in their social classes being such a big deal, but I couldn’t help but be a bit impatient with this question. I thought it couldn’t help but be resolved – as it was – by Lady Rowan’s demure acceptance of the inter-class question. She’s always been a nonjudgmental friend to Maisie. I was a bit surprised at her protest, which was unrelated to social class, and now I’m especially impatient to see Maisie declare her intentions and continue to “walk out” with James. The book left us hanging on this point. I suppose I’ll look forward more anxiously than usual to A Lesson in Secrets, the new Maisie book, released just a week or two ago. (It’s en route to the library now and I shall read it first thing.)

So let’s review. Another mystery was solved, satisfactorily but also according to a pattern I’m becoming very comfortable with – if not perhaps a touch bored. Maurice died, which is a very real personal tragedy for Maisie, as well as being one of those silver-lining opportunities for greater personal growth and independence, much as Simon’s death was. Ah yes, I didn’t say that she is now a quite wealthy young woman! Thanks to being the overwhelming heir to Maurice’s fortune. She has a new man, one I find very promising, if she can quit being wishy-washy and say YES Lady Rowan, I adore your son! I suppose it’s hard to think about remaining an independent businesswoman and get married, especially in her time. But James seems so wonderful, surely he’d be supportive?

I have left out any consideration of Billy Beale, generally one of my favorite characters. His family life & drama didn’t play quite such a strong role in this book; but that’s good for them, the reason being, that they had less drama. Billy’s still dreaming of emigrating to Canada, and I have a feeling Maisie’s new-found personal wealth will trickle towards the Beales; but there may also be a new mouth to feed around that household soon! So who knows. I continue to hold Billy and his family close to my heart and look forward to meeting with them again soon.

I believe that sums it up. I enjoyed this Maisie book, as all the others. But there is very much a pattern to the structure that can be comfortably rhythmic and predictable but has thoroughly ceased to make me gasp. For truly suspenseful, edge-of-my-seat mystery novels, I have learned, I must look elsewhere. That’s okay. There are lots of good suspense writers out there. I can’t wait for the new Michael Connelly to arrive! And I recently really enjoyed my first experience with Lisa Gardner; and there’s Elizabeth George… she hasn’t settled into any kind of predictable pattern, yet, to me. Although, come to think of it, her Barbara Havers character frustrates me in the same way Maisie does: I want to shove them or shake them into realizing the teeny tiny steps they could make that would get them so far… it’s taking awfully many books for these women to realize their own worth in certain areas. But don’t get me ranting. 🙂

Still loving Maisie and still loving the read-along! Check out our fearless leader Book Club Girl for discussion of The Mapping of Love and Death.

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Main Street by Sinclair Lewis

Posted on April 4, 2011 by pagesofjulia

This is a real star. I’ve been so pleased to take in this witty, bitingly satirical story of small-town life. The setting is the fictional town of Gopher Prairie, Minnesota, based on Lewis’s hometown of Sauk Centre; but as he says in the introduction, “the story would be the same in Ohio or Montana, in Kansas or Kentucky or Illinois, and not very differently would it be told Up York State or in the Carolina hills.”

This is my first experience with Sinclair Lewis, and I’m sorry I waited so long. Certainly his other work is now on my long list TBR.

It’s the story of Carol Kennington (née Milford), who as a college student has some vague and lofty ideas of improving small towns, before she marries and settles in Gopher Prairie. This small town (patently representative of small towns everywhere – Lewis all but beats us over the head with this statement) does not want to be improved, does not believe it needs improving, and disapproves of Carol on every level. It’s a painful story, and it drags along, not becoming boring, but definitely oppressive in Carol’s pain. She’s no pristine heroine, repeatedly distracted from her lofty goals of uplifting Gopher Prairie and the human race; she’s decidedly flawed. And yet I don’t think the reader can help but sympathize with her.

She tries to implement her idealized improvements but is rejected in her theater group, her improvement of the town library, her crossing of social, economic, and class lines. She tries to escape in a few cheap flirtations, but none is consummated – her choices of love are disillusioning. She finally makes her husband take her on a trip to leave behind the doldrums, but her relief is temporary. From page 393:

Yes. She was back home! Nothing had changed. She had never been away. California? Had she seen it? Had she for one minute left this scraping sound of the small shovel in the ash-pit of the furnace? But Kennicott preposterously supposed that she had. Never had she been quite so far from going away as now when he believed she had just come back. She felt oozing through the walls the spirit of small houses and righteous people. At that instant she knew that in running away she had merely hidden her doubts behind the officious stir of travel.

Finally, just when I thought we were going to wallow forever, Carol up and leaves town with her three-and-a-half-year-old son for Washington, D.C., where she starts a new and relatively satisfying life. But she is still not ultimately fulfilled… Relatively quickly, she ends up back in good ole GP with good ole Will Kennicott. The book ends with Carol resigned to GP, with an oddly comfortable but not entirely content feeling. I found this a ending a little strange. So much of the book had been writhing discomfort and dissatisfaction and dreaming and planning for something different. Then we finally – very late in the game (by which I mean the book) – saw Carol go to DC for a life that I do see was not entirely suited to her, but also seemed very much an improvement. And then she went back… home? Do we call it home? She makes a few final defiant statements at the end of the book; but her defiance is in spirit and not in action or even, I feel, in emotion. I’m not disappointed with the ending. I suppose I’m a bit surprised. I’m awfully removed from Carol’s world. I will see my 30th birthday a good 95 years after hers; and I’m if anything a bit independent in my own time. Her life in DC looked pretty interesting to me but I realize that I am not Carol. And who on earth could I have been in her day? But I digress.

Lewis’s criticism of Gopher Prairie and by extension, all of the U.S., is almost cruelly biting, but also wonderful, witty, and funny. I was entertained from the first page. Besides American hypocrisy, or maybe even before it, its largest social issue is definitely feminism and women’s place in the home. But there is also tangential treatment of war (World War I), communism, workers’ rights, religious hypocrisy, class structures… and Carol doesn’t escape criticism, either. Lewis reserves a sneer for the out-of-touch artsy do-gooder in her. But in the end I think he retains something of a loving touch for most of his characters at the same time.

The writing was delightful. I laughed out loud and I felt Carol’s pain, and I felt for the ridiculous Will Kennicott (who mostly, I did not like) when he stoically handled Carol’s infidelity-in-spirit. But I also gloried in the turns of phrase. I loved “that amiable contempt called poise” and that Carol “picked [the book] up carelessly, with a slight yawn which she patted down with her fingertips as delicately as a cat.” Does that not paint a portrait?

I was interested to find, in the Afterword (by Mark Schorer of the University of California, in my Signet Classic paperback edition of 1961), discussion of this book in relation to Madame Bovary. Apparently my repeated comparison of the two, while I was reading, has a strong precedent. Schorer writes,

Madame Bovary is more than a study of provincial manners in a certain time and place in France; that much is only the setting for a highly dramatic presentation of human catastrophe. But Main Street cannot be lifted out of its historic setting, which is, in effect, the whole of it.

Perhaps this is what I was saying above, about trying to put myself in Carol’s shoes. At any rate I found the Afterword to be a few thoughtful pages, worth the time I spent on it.

I picked this up as a casual read and it was very enjoyable and worth my time and interest. I’m going to apply it towards the Classics Challenge at which I am so miserably far behind, so there we go. More to come!

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The Postcard Killers, by James Patterson (audio)

Posted on March 31, 2011 by pagesofjulia


Well, my feelings on this one are mixed.

First let me speak to the format: I listened to this book on audio cd, in the car while commuting, and also brought it in to the house two nights to listen some more. I don’t listen to audio books very often at all. The Husband and I enjoyed some together on our last long road trip, and I think that’s an excellent application. But mostly I find that I enjoy reading actual, physical books. One of my main concerns is that I like to go back and reread a sentence or a paragraph that strikes me or that I want to understand better, and rewinding a cd is just not the same. The voices of the characters or the inflections aren’t always what I would imagine in my reading experience. Sometimes this bothers me. On the other hand, I’ve just “read” another book in the last week that I wouldn’t have gotten to read otherwise; I have a good hour a day spent driving that I can spend listening to audiobooks. Despite my complaints and concerns, I think it’s likely that I’ll be picking up another audiobook next week. 🙂 I guess that’s a net win for the format. But I most definitely prefer reading.

Now, on to the book in question. As I said earlier this week, I picked up this James Patterson novel – my first (I know!) – just to expand my horizons as a reader and (more importantly) librarian and readers’ adviser. I came in with some bias: I have an understanding that Patterson writes “fluffy” novels, that he really cranks ’em out (or rather, puts his name alongside numerous co-authors to crank ’em out), that maybe his mysteries are less intellectual than some. All of this is very snobby of me and I’m not proud of it, but I’m trying to address this bias honestly here.

After finishing The Postcard Killers, I remain conflicted. I had a number of real problems with this book. The plot was somewhat simplistic; there weren’t layers of meaning or action; there were no real surprises. (Of course, there was no mystery for the reader to solve, just some loose ends left to curiosity til the end of the book. We met the killers in chapter 1 and knew them all along; it was just the detectives that didn’t.) The sex was foreshadowed from the first moment; some tension was allowed to build up, but once the dam burst, so to speak, a formerly strong woman just followed the man around like a puppy dog, which I found a bit silly. The police detectives in Stockholm were incompetent beyond comedy to the point of my great frustration. I thought it was totally unrealistic. These are police officers! The characters didn’t have hobbies, interests, or personality characteristics. They were flat. It was rather a flat book in general, in many ways. Michael Connelly may be “fluffy” too, in a way (light, entertaining, pleasurable reading for the beach), but his Harry Bosch is a many-layered complex character, and he meets interesting, complex people and solves complicated cases. I’m afraid I was unimpressed by the Patterson & Marklund team in many ways.

However! I was engrossed! I knew from the start who the killers were, but couldn’t figure out how they had accomplished things. The question of motive was left open, too, although I found the solution unsatisfactory. I was anxious to get back in the car to hear what was going to happen next. And however tired and predictable the sexual tension and eventual release was for Jacob & Desi, I waited anxiously for them to get around to it. So I guess what this says is, for all my criticisms, Patterson’s predictable, flat suspense still got me interested and page-turning (so to speak). I’m not impressed, but I was entertained in the short term. I would probably even grab another one of his novels again – that is, if there were nothing better lying around, at the beach; or if the Husband and I needed an audiobook for a road trip. At any rate, I’m very glad to have exposed myself to this author and know his style. (At least in combination with one of his co-authors. There’s probably a lot I still don’t know, thus the need to pick up some more.)

As it happens, we’re hitting the road this weekend, for a drive to Arkansas and back. I’ve picked out four audiobooks, but no Patterson this time. I have:

Extreme Measures, by Vince Flynn

Gone Tomorrow, by Lee Child

Shoot Him If He Runs, by Stuart Woods

The Pied Piper, by Ridley Pearson

The Husband and I are both fans of Lee Child and his bad-ass character Jack Reacher. The other three are in further pursuit of my well-roundedness in the mystery/suspense genre, and in the hopes of discovering more authors the Husband can appreciate. (He likes Connelly but I’ve read all of his novels and didn’t want to do repeats on this trip.)

So, I give the audio format a “meh” with strong likelihood of repeat use. I give The Postcard Killers a “meh” with medium likelihood of repeat use. I’m open to compromise. 🙂

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Dethroning the King: the hostile takeover of Anheuser-Busch, an American icon, by Julie Macintosh

Posted on March 30, 2011 by pagesofjulia


Wow. Where to begin? I found this book riveting, cover to cover. I took my time, and I took breaks, and I read other books – all this is true. But my interest in this one never waned. I have been raving a bit manically to anyone who will listen ever since I finished it last Friday night. I’ve taken my time writing about it here because I was trying to be less hysterical in my praise.

I’ll give you a quick synopsis if the subject area is unfamiliar to you:

Anheuser-Busch was the last U.S.-owned big beer company in 2008, and was also still family-controlled, by the Busches. (Coors was already part of Canadian-owned Molson-Coors, and Miller was part of South-African-owned SAB-Miller.) A few Brazilian bankers had started, years earlier, by buying out Brazilian Brahma beer, but they quickly grew into a large brewing concern known as AmBev who then joined with Belgian brewers Interbrew to become InBev, which ended up Belgian-based, but mostly Brazilian-controlled. In 2008, AB was suffering, and InBev made their play by offering an impressive bid. AB made a rather half-hearted effort to defend itself by merging with Mexican brewing powerhouse Modelo, but ended up selling to InBev to create Anheuser-Busch InBev (ABI).

Macintosh is the journalist who covered the takeover of Anheuser-Busch by InBev, for the Financial Times. She had me right from the start, when she described (in the Author’s Note) her experience as a woman – and a visibly pregnant one, at that – in the doubly male-dominated worlds of finance and beer. This resonated with me, as I’ve worked in beer and in bicycles in the past and am also familiar with the concept of male-dominated industries. This personal relationship to her work foreshadowed to me that she was going to handle her subject from a human perspective, and she did. I like my nonfiction full of narrative and personalities – human characters. This was a fascinating treatment of a story I was already prepared to be interested in. My ties to beer, and the beer industry, originally drew me to this book. But I stayed for the human element.

This story is full of characters. (Forgive me for broadly generalizing, but people in Big Beer and finance are wealthy, and wealthy people tend to be eccentric, yes?) Macintosh kindly includes a “Cast of Characters” (and I also referred to the index to flip back to the earliest mention of a character here and there) to help us keep them straight; but really I had minimal trouble. They’re all so quirky and real (notice I didn’t necessarily say likeable! but interesting, yes). Like I said, the beer got me in the door; but the people and the plot twists kept me in my seat.

The world of finance is thoroughly new and mysterious to me. (I have been harassing my finance-friends to help me understand certain concepts. They have been mostly helpful; or, unavailable. Probably on purpose. That’s you Will.) But it speaks to my engagement in this book, that I am now hyper-motivated to learn all about mergers & acquisitions (independent v. dependent board members… fiduciary duty… private equity firms…) JUST so I can better follow the action in this plot. For me to have found a book of finance this unputdownable seems rather a feat. I can’t recommend it enough.

The more I try and explain my appreciation, the more I think this story wears several hats. It’s actually suspenseful and full of intrigue, like a lot of the novels I enjoy – like a murder/mystery/international intrigue. It also has certain elements of classic tragedy – ambition and hubris being (among) the tragic flaws of the Busch players. And the fate of Anheuser, in mid- and late-2008, is also an allegory for what the United States went through simultaneously. Our national hubris and feeling of this-can’t-happen-to-us led to a shocking (to varying degrees I suppose) downfall. Of course I’m just paraphrasing Macintosh in this; she says on page 22,

Anheuser’s hubris and naivete had led to its fall from grace, and it provided an apt comparison to the broader state of American at the time.

Or again, page 341, in the words of an (unnamed) advisor to AB,

The way this played out was Shakespearean in nature. I haven’t decided which play. The dynamic between father and son was just Shakespearean and tragic.

(The father and son referred to here are August Busch III and IV.)

My notes at the end of reading this book say, “I ❤ gray areas." It's always easy to love and hate characters in books when they're all good or all bad; but isn't it more satisfying to feel conflict? Aren’t they more human and thereby more evocative of complex emotions, when they have redeeming characteristics, or confuse us a little bit? These are, of course, real humans; but it’s Macintosh’s journalistic thoroughness that rounds them out. I didn’t find it easy, in the end, to see any of these characters in black and white. Instead, the complexities and gray areas make it echo for me.

If you’re interested in big business, or finance, or the beer industry, or the consolidation of the world market into very few giant conglomerates, or U.S. businesses’ place in an international world, or if you enjoy readable nonfiction… I really can’t overestimate my recommendation of this book.

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Among the Mad by Jacqueline Winspear

Posted on March 28, 2011 by pagesofjulia

It’s that time again! The sixth Maisie Dobbs book is entitled Among the Mad, and takes place within London (and surrounding environs, of course). Maisie is conscripted formally into the machine that is New Scotland Yard when she’s mentioned by name in a threatening letter aimed at the government. As is usual, this case involves the aftermath of WWI and its veterans, in the context of the depression in England. Also as usual, there is a personal embodiment in Maisie’s own life: Billy Beale’s wife is still struggling to process the death of their young daughter. The general issue is shell-shock, or what we would now call post-traumatic stress. Maisie is touched by the plight of veterans who are still suffering less obvious wounds, like psychological, mental, or emotional ones, and who are unable to find work or meaning in a changing world.

This was, for me, perhaps a lackluster episode in Maisie’s story. It had all the familiar elements: themes of social and economic injustice and the sobering reality of depressed post-war England; Maisie’s search for belonging in between social classes (although she’s more and more integrated into the middle class; more on that in a minute) and with few real friends; the immorality and futility of war, with foreshadowing of the next world war to come. Maisie does continue to grow. She displays a work of art in her home, a tapestry we can assume she made in the weaving class she was attending in the last book. At the end of the book, she buys a camera, which I interpret as both another artistic/creative outlet, and a connection to other humans. She displays photographs as a means of reminding herself of her relationships. She also starts seeing more of Priscilla, and seems to open up more; but I’m bothered by her acting as Psychologist & Investigator (and therapist) in their friendship. It may not be sufficiently different from her day job, if that makes sense. But these are all positive developments. And then there’s the big one, at the end of the book, when she declares (to herself at least) that she has regained her soul. The healing suggested by Simon’s death seems to have begun.

About Maisie’s social standing: did anyone notice that Catherine Jones accused Maisie of not knowing want, and Maisie didn’t correct her? And later, in considering the possibility that a foundling could have become a successful scientist, she concludes that such social/economic climbing would be impossible – “unless, of course, he was something of a chameleon. Like herself.” It sounds to me like Maisie’s made a pretty successful climb, but it’s left her as isolated as ever.

She does see some developments in her romantic life. It seems that Stratton continues to be interested, but frankly, I never saw him as a serious option. I know some of my fellow readers-along liked him as a candidate for love in Maisie’s life, but I felt he was a bit one-dimensional from the start, and a bit patronizing of Maisie as female detective. He’s come a long way in respecting her professionally, I’ll give him that. But still, aside from being a single parent, I don’t think we know anything interesting about him. I liked Dr. Dene, for his sense of humor and personal connection via Maurice; but that didn’t take. It was too early for Maisie. Our new friend MacFarlane, though, is more of a firecracker. He has more personality. I like him as an option for Maisie very much. I like his style, and I like that she fed him dinner in her apartment (!) and they shared really a very intimate evening. I hope to see more of him.

The mystery was engaging, too, and Winspear continues to twist her readers’ heartstrings with the criminal-as-victim and really very sad national situation that breeds situations like this one. It’s very poignant, powerful stuff. Still, I guess it’s beginning to be a bit patterned for my liking. I hope she’ll mix things up a bit in the next installment, The Mapping of Love and Death, which we shall discuss in another two weeks.

We saw less of Maurice in this book – really hardly saw him at all. There is discussion of he, and Maisie’s father Frankie, aging. She has precious few close friends, and I notice she’s not very forthcoming or honest with her father about her life. It really bothered me that she didn’t tell him about her injury at the start of the book. I know she likes to be a tough guy, and independent, but really. A single woman with a father who loves her should let him take care of her when she’s hurt at Christmas! At any rate, I’m glad she’s drawing closer to Priscilla, but hope she continues to expand her little circle, especially with the hinting at Maurice & Frankie’s mortality.

I still adore Billy, and find his family’s situation one of the stronger points of every book, actually. They feel very real to me, and perhaps because we follow them for the whole series (as opposed to the characters in each case, who come and go), they feel like Winspear’s best representation of the national malady. I think I am most anxious for them between books. The Beales, and Maisie’s love life, are my greatest concerns going into the next installment. I do like the mysteries, but I would like to see a little variety in the structure & subject of the next one.

Let’s discuss covers, briefly. For those of you also reading the series: the first image, above, is the standard hardcover design. It matches the rest of the series (at least the copies I’ve picked up), and I like the continuity; it’s recognizable. I like her cloche, too. 🙂 (remember, I got my own in Maisie’s honor!) But this time I accidentally picked a large print edition (that was weird; had to turn pages much faster), whose cover you also see above. Although it’s not visually recognizable as belonging to the series, I think it expresses the subject matter (at least of the mystery part of the book) better. I guess the usual series covers are more about Maisie; the large print cover is more about post-war madness. What do you think?

Despite some gentle criticisms, I still like Maisie and can’t wait to see her through! We have just two books left – the last having been released just last week. I’m so glad I’m involved with this series, and am so glad to have a group of people to share her with. Don’t forget to check in with Book Club Girl, where this book is being discussed. And we’ll meet again in two weeks for The Mapping of Love and Death.

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the daily post’s prompt

Posted on March 25, 2011 by pagesofjulia

Briefly, because I couldn’t resist….

This site offers a daily prompt for those bloggers who want to blog every day unfailingly but may lack for topics. I could not let today’s prompt pass me by as the answer is so obvious!

What non-exercise activity do you wish would keep you fit?

Duh! READING! So many hours spent on my back on the couch with a little dog on my belly… ah how flat that belly would be…

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Main Street by Sinclair Lewis: a study of covers

Posted on March 24, 2011 by pagesofjulia

I’m not finished reading this book yet – I’m still splitting my time between Dethroning the King and Main Street. They’re both delightful! And a bit long, but mostly I’m just very busy right now. (School is ramping up for the end of the semester, and my big race is in a week and a half…) So, thanks for your patience. Anyway – I haven’t finished Main Street, and I haven’t written much about it here; I’m waiting to finish and write up all my thoughts at once. (I have lots of thoughts.) But in the meantime, I went looking for different covers.

There have been many editions of this book, and many different covers. I’ve got a collection of them here for you. This won’t mean much to you if you haven’t read the book yet, but I wonder about your thoughts. Some of these cover designs seem to emphasis the titular Main Street, and I guess that’s a nice picture, and plays into the title. But I feel that the real Questions (capital Q) of the book deal with the People who color the street, if you will. The cover of the edition I’m reading is the very last one pictured here, and I actually think I like it the best. (It’s a charming little paperback that requests to be sold for 75 cents!) It concentrates on the people, leaving Main Street out altogether, and the fact that the two people (overlapping, and presumably “together”) are turned away from each other, and each seeming to hail someone else, seems especially appropriate to me. The book indicates that the inhabitants of Gopher Prairie, Minnesota are overly concerned with the opinions of others. It all fits, to me.

With no further ado, lots of Main Street covers for you! Do you have any thoughts? Any favorites? Or have you not read this book and I’m boring you completely? (My full write-up will come eventually. I promise.)







my Signet Classic edition

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movie: The Lincoln Lawyer (2011)

Posted on March 23, 2011 by pagesofjulia

I didn’t let being sick stop me! I made the Husband take me to a movie Friday night! So I saw the first Michael-Connelly-book-made-into-a-movie on opening night! This is especially momentous because the Husband does not Do Movies. This is the second movie we have seen together in a theatre. (He has a slightly higher tolerance at home on the couch. Like maybe 10 movies, ever.)

It was pretty great! I was excited, because it’s Connelly, and it’s a great story, and I thought McConaughey had some potential as Mickey Haller. (I hadn’t thought of Haller as being quite that pretty, myself, when I read the book, but I was open.) But I was also concerned, just as in reading The Paris Wife (which I loved! did you notice?), because I love Connelly and the movie is never as good as the book, and there was a high risk of disappointment.

cute Maggie McFierce

But I liked it! Yay! (The Husband did too. Remember he’s a part-time Connelly fan.) Of course, being a two-hour Hollywood movie, it cut significantly from the book. I was tolerant. It stayed with the feel of the plot; Haller was a baller, and his being pretty worked, and I thought Marisa Tomei was the CUTEST Maggie McFierce. It was enjoyable. Was it a Connelly novel? Heck no, but it followed his atmosphere, and I enjoyed it. And then I went to bed.

McConaughey with Connelly

I wonder if maybe he sold that book for a movie, first, to see how it would go, rather than any of the Bosch series. I figure once he releases Bosch to the big screen, he will have committed, and will have to let them keeping making Bosch, for better or worse. Which led to a question: who do we like to play Bosch? Anybody? The Husband had an idea, but I didn’t know the actor so it hasn’t stuck in my head. I have no ideas because I’m not very good at Hollywood. :-/ Please share! Who is Bosch? I see him as being stout and muscled, not terribly tall, with dark hair, and weathered by violence and stress, but still a touch ruggedly handsome while NOT being pretty. Who is this?

Filed under: book reviews, musings | Tagged: , | 5 Comments »

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