Teaser Tuesdays: Mountains of Light by R. Mark Liebenow

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just open your current read to a random page and share a few sentences. Be careful not to include spoilers!

Mountains of Light: Seasons of Reflection in Yosemite is a lovely contemplative book, both reminiscent of and different from my 2011 favorite, Fire Season. My review will come closer to the book’s publication date of March 1, but here’s a teaser for you now.

I lower my expectations for how glorious this dawn will be, wanting to regard whatever happens as a grace. To borrow a Japanese Buddhist image, I must empty my begging bowl in order to receive not what I think I need but what is being offered, and to regard whatever comes as oryoki–just enough.

Isn’t that a lovely image and concept? And it gives a glimpse into the tone of the book.

This quotation comes from an uncorrected advance proof and is subject to change.

Inferno: The World at War, 1939-1945 by Max Hastings


Max Hastings is a highly regarded war historian (primarily WWII) and author of a great many books examining his subject from various angles (most recently Winston’s War). His latest, Inferno, covers WWII through the lens of “regular people” as primary sources. In his introduction, he explains that his book does not seek to be a comprehensive study of WWII in all its events, bringing a reader from zero knowledge up to expert level; rather, it assumes some familiarity with the war and concentrates on people: “This is a book chiefly about human experience.”

Hastings did what he set out to do: he exposed the human experience of WWII, in all its horror and almost incomprehensible suffering and death, in its follies and incompetencies and cruelties and in its rare moments of black humor. The brief quotations from regular folks from dozens of countries are moving, illustrative, and diverse, both in viewpoint and in origin. They offer a valuable telling of the war, and serve as a great history lesson/review too.

This is a high-quality book; it has a lot to offer. At almost 700 pages, the reader’s motivation will have to be fairly high to invest the time and effort required to reap the full benefits. But for the interested reader, a treasure trove of honest contemporary accounts of this remarkable tragedy of history awaits.


This review was written for Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!

Sunday Salon

Sunday Salon: February 5, 2012


How’s everybody doing this weekend? Houston is having a recurrence of an old event we used to see around here back in the day. It’s been raining! I did some internet research the other day and learned that our annual rainfall is right around 50 inches; in 2011, Houston’s driest year on record, we had about 20 inches, of which we had seen only 12 by mid-October. It was those 8 inches in the last 10 weeks of the year that managed to bring us up to the still shockingly (record-breaking-ly) low number of 20. So far in 2012 we are close to 10 inches, which has come in a handful of one-day downpours. All of this is to say… 1) rain is very exciting for us these days; 2) Houstonians seem to have forgotten how to drive in the rain; 3) this is wonderful for our poor parched earth (gardens, farms/ranches, mountain bike trails, trees – of which we’re losing some 70 MILLION – you read that right – due to last year’s drought) but also 4) it’s wrecking my weekend. You see, I’ve been working on recovering from my knee surgery (in December) and hoping to make my comeback to mountain bike racing at the end of this month, and my training time is so precious to me… especially since we’ll be in Nashville next weekend to see our favorite band play two nights in a row! (Very exciting! Look for a Walk About Town post to follow that trip, hopefully.) So losing both days of intended mountain biking this weekend to rain is really bumming me out. I’m trying to stay positive and think of how much the whole city needs this rain, and be happy with yoga, the gym, and my shortened road ride yesterday. :-/

Weather aside, what’s going on? Well, I’m getting some reading done this weekend. (That’s the upside to all the rain.) I feel like I’ve spent all my reading time lately on books for review for Shelf Awareness, and none on pleasure reading; and all my audiobook listening time for weeks now has gone to Anna Karenina, which is a huge time commitment. So it was nice to pick up a few quick reads this weekend: Hemingway’s On Paris, for one – always nice to return to an old favorite – and then Edward Abbey’s The Journey Home. Abbey is an old favorite, too, and this is a gem; I’ve had such fun with it, including reading one short piece out loud to Husband and laughing out loud at it together. Good times. Reviews to come on both of these.

The weekend digest is rather boring, I guess: it rained, I didn’t get to ride like I wanted to, but I read some good short books. In the coming week I’ll be simultaneously prepping for our trip to Nashville and my upcoming race that I don’t feel prepared for! What are you up to this weekend? And what are you reading?

World Book Night: who else is in?

I got my email today! I’m going to be a book giver on World Book Night, which is April 23, 2012. I am hoping that I will get to give away my first-choice book, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. I feel that this is such an important, impressive book, in its subject matter (both medical and social justice), and in its highly engaging and readable narrative treatment (so friendly to nonfiction readers).

I put in my application that I wanted to give books away at Memorial Park, because it’s a space I love and sees high pedestrian traffic. But I’ve been reconsidering. It has occurred to me that the traffic there tends to be pretty affluent, and I’d rather give these books to people less likely to go buy one at the store. I may still be thinking about where to give my books away. I want to pick just the right place.

Did you sign up for World Book Night to be a giver? Did you get your email today? Which book did you choose and where will you be handing them out? Tell me!

And if you haven’t signed up yet – they’ve extended the deadline to do so! You still have until Monday, Feb. 6 (that is THIS Monday) to go here and sign up to give away 20 copies of the book of your choice (well, off their list – and don’t try for Hunger Games, it’s all full up). This is a great event, in my opinion, because it’s all about providing folks with reading material for free – with the idea that the book you put in their hands may change lives. Reading can be such an escape, an educational tool, such fun and comfort and solace, that I want others to be able to join in. Here’s a great way to help them do so.

book beginnings on Friday: River in Ruin by Ray A. March

Thanks to Katy at A Few More Pages for hosting this meme. To participate, share the first line or two of the book you are currently reading and, if you feel so moved, let us know what your first impressions were based on that first line.

This is the story of the Carmel River, a tiny river but apparently one that serves as a sadly typical example of what we’re doing to our rivers on a large scale. It begins:

On a summer evening between semesters at college, my friends and I gathered at Undertow Beach near the lagoon where the Carmel River enters Carmel Bay. The evening was nippy, a high fog hovered overhead, so in a tight protected valley of sand carved out long ago by an old cable-driven dredge we built a little campfire of driftwood and drank rank red wine.

Nature writers, take note: this is a great beginning. While the rest of the book promises to be well-researched nonfiction, it begins with a narrative that grounds the story and gives it significance. The author grew up in the area and remembers earlier incarnations of the river, thus showing his reader why she should care. Good stuff. Look for my review to come…

This quotation comes from an uncorrected advance proof and is subject to change.

The Chalk Girl by Carol O’Connell

Carol O’Connell’s Mallory returns to take on a case with nonstop twisting intrigues.


The little girl in Central Park has red hair, starry blue eyes and a dazzling smile; she reminds people of an elf or a fairy, and tells stories of blood raining out of the sky and an uncle who turned into a tree, and demands hugs from everyone she meets. The fairy tale halts abruptly, however, with the discovery of a body in a tree, hogtied and seemingly dead. And it’s not the only one. Coco, as she calls herself, presents a perplexing mystery. Where did she come from? Who does she belong to? Where did she get the strange explanations for the blood on her shirt and, most important, what kind of a witness will she make, if the NYPD ever manages to solve the homicides?

Detective Mallory, the protagonist of nine previous novels, is just back from three months of unauthorized down time and is none too stable herself; she and Coco may have more in common than meets the eye. But the case quickly grows bigger than a wandering child and a series of well-planned murders. Conspiracies and deceits connect Coco with the upper echelons of political power in the city, from high society to the DA’s office, even the police department–and Mallory’s investigation will reveal a chilly tale of torment stretching back 15 years. Unlike the spritely Coco, though, Mallory is a terrifying force to be reckoned with. Her methods are cold, merciless and conniving; her colleagues doubt she even has a heart. If nothing else, Coco’s tormenters can expect justice at Mallory’s hands.


This review originally ran in the January 20, 2012 issue of Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!

two-wheeled thoughts: H.G. Wells

two-wheeled thoughts

When I see an adult on a bicycle, I do not despair for the future of the human race.

–H.G. Wells

A classic.

Teaser Tuesdays: Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just open your current read to a random page and share a few sentences. Be careful not to include spoilers!

Still working on Anna Karenina (and I will be for a little while longer!). Today I had to give you this noteworthy teaser…

…she felt such terror at what she had done, that she could not face it; but, like a woman, could only try to comfort herself with lying assurances that everything would remain as it always had been, and that it was possible to forget the fearful question…

From Part 2, chapter 23. Anybody else a little offended?

My Life as Laura by Kelly Kathleen Ferguson

Kelly Kathleen Ferguson grew up in the belief that she was Laura Ingalls’s long-lost twin, or perhaps her reincarnation; she was bored and frustrated by her suburban upbringing and longed for the simplicity, beauty, and utility of the world of the Little House books. After earning an English degree and attempting to be a rock-n-roll star, she ended up waiting tables… for decades. At thirty-eight, unhappy with work and her love life and feeling like a failure, she sets out to follow in her hero’s wagon tracks across the United States, visiting the sites of the various Ingalls homes as represented in the books. My Life as Laura is the story of Ferguson’s travels, and her reflections on her own life and what lessons she can learn from Laura.

She dons a “prairie dress” (which mostly makes her miserable, but occasionally helps her get into the spirit of things) and drives her Camry west. Laura’s home sites sometimes feature the preserved original structure, sometimes a replica or a monument to the location; sometimes tours are available; but they seem to always feature a gift shop. Ferguson’s most adventurous moments involve interacting with hotel and gift shop staff while wearing her period costume; but these conversations are generally perfunctory. She spaces out during tours, but reads a few books purchased in the gift shops and learns more about the object of her admiration – like the disturbing news that there is some question as to Laura’s authorship of the books, and the level of her daughter Rose’s involvement. Ferguson discovers that, while she’s a first-class expert on Laura the character of the books, she really didn’t know Laura the (arguable) author of the books very well.

Nothing much happens in this book. If you’re looking for adventure, experience, the trying of new things (or any attempt to live the Ingalls’ nineteenth century lifestyle), look elsewhere. Rather, what action there is is inward-looking, as Ferguson contemplates and picks apart her own past through the lens of Laura’s experiences. At the end she has made some personal growth and undertaken to write a book (ta-da!). The changes she makes to her life are modest, but she’s honest about what she’s able to take on.

This book has its strengths, humility and honesty being chief among them. But I was disappointed with the action component, and had expected more brave and outgoing feats than registering for a hotel room in an odd dress and subsisting on junk food. It didn’t feel like Ferguson’s boundaries were expanded much, even in a cross-country solo road trip. Perhaps the greatest downfall of the book was Ferguson’s success in convincing me of her own weakness and tendency towards failure. I feel badly writing that, but it was my reaction; I don’t mean to be unkind, but she had me talked into the thesis of her underachievement. Also, I have to note her repeated reference to the Amish driving around in their minivans. In nonfiction especially, that kind of sloppy error really stands out to me. [The Amish don’t drive cars.]

In conclusion, this book has a mild feel-good effect, and there are certainly some positive reviews out there. Ferguson is always brutally honest about her own weaknesses, and I respect her for it. But its lack of action and growth, and a few sloppy details, left me decidedly lukewarm.

I received a copy of this book from the author and I’m only sorry I didn’t have a more positive reaction to it.

Fire on the Mountain by Edward Abbey

Oh my. I have difficulty beginning this review. I found this book very moving and beautiful. I’m glad to have found such joy in Edward Abbey this time around; I was disappointed in Black Sun, but I knew he had this in him.

Abbey tells us that this story was “inspired by an event that took place in our country not many years ago” but is fictional in its particulars. Billy Vogelin Starr has just arrived in southern New Mexico to spend another summer with his grandfather, on the ranch that has been in Grandfather’s family since the beginning. Billy is twelve, and he loves the land, the terrain, the work, the ranch, and his grandfather very much; they move something deep inside him. He only gets to be a cowboy for three months a year, but he takes this time seriously. He’s also very excited to see his friend Lee again; Lee is handsome, charismatic, a real cowboy, his grandfather’s best friend, and Billy’s hero. This year things are different, however; the United States government intends to take the Box V ranch away. The story is, they need it for national security. We’re fighting the Soviets, at least in theory and in spirit, and the land is needed for rocket testing (thus explaining the cover image, if you can see it that clearly). Grandfather’s response is that his land is not for sale. He was born here; his daddy died here, and he’ll die here, too. If he has to do battle to retain his right to his land, he’s willing. And of course, Billy wants to be right by Grandfather’s side.

A short book at under 200 pages, Fire on the Mountain is incredibly powerful. In few words – just like a cowboy – Abbey teaches his reader about old men like John Vogelin, whose tie to the land and to an older way of life is stubborn. The descriptions of the natural phenomena of Southern New Mexico are awesome, and I challenge you to resist respecting Grandfather’s final stand. Not for nothing is Abbey called (by Larry McMurtry) “the Thoreau of the American West.” This is a coming-of-age story for Billy Vogelin Starr, whose twelfth summer sees drama that will change his world forever; it’s also a lovely evocation of the beauty and power of nature, and the story of the classic, iconoclastic, Western loner resisting a world of change. An incredibly powerful and touching book, beautifully written, irresistible, exhibiting the greatness that I expect from Edward Abbey. More, please.