briefly, paperbacks for the plane

Hello folks. Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you spend it in a way you enjoy.

I’m still working on Running the Books during my lunches, and I’m still enjoying it and staying involved, but only marginally. I guess because of the anecdotal structure, I’m going to leave it here at the library when I take off for my 5-day weekend. This is unusual and generally a sign that a book failed me on some level; I should want to finish once I’ve started. So I’m still failing to be swayed one way or the other about the worth of it; but at this rate I will eventually finish it. Not all bad.

I’ve been working on reading for the plane, and have chosen two paperbacks by authors I know I like: One Shot by Lee Child, and Cadillac Jukebox by James Lee Burke. I might need to supplement these with some paperbacks I have at the house as well.

Enjoy your holiday! I’ll let you know how the reading came out at the other end!

I’d Know You Anywhere by Laura Lippman, and Running the Books by Avi Steinberg

I had some trouble selecting a new book to read over the weekend, and ended up taking home Avi Steinberg’s Running the Books: the adventures of an accidental prison librarian. But before I could get to it, while putting new books up on my new books display, I came across Laura Lippman’s I’d Know You Anywhere, and got involved in it!

I’d Know You Anywhere is about a woman with a pretty good life: husband, two kids, nice house, generally serene, other than her daughter’s beginning to be a teenager. Then she gets a letter from the man, on death row, who abducted, raped, and held her for six weeks when she was 15. Her life is disrupted by corresponding with him, which she feels powerless to avoid. Years of carefully constructed anonymity are threatened.

It was a fun book. I read it almost straight through; it was gripping and interesting; the characters felt like real people. I found a certain theme of family and motherhood, that’s a little new and different to me in the mystery/thriller genre; this was present in Lisa Scottoline’s Look Again as well. I’m not as excited or sentimental about motherhood as some, so this theme could potentially get a bit tiring for me, but in both of these examples the authors have pulled it off. Barely. I’d Know You Anywhere is fast-paced and realistic and raises some interesting questions about victim’s rights and the death penalty, but remains an easy read (it could be a thinker only if you choose it to be). I was glad to spend my time on it.

Then yesterday I got around to Avi Steinberg’s Running the Books. It’s biographical; he’s telling his own story: former Orthodox Jew, then Harvard student, then underachieving freelance obituary writer, finally turned prison librarian. (Whew.) I haven’t gotten very far in, but I’m walking a tightrope: enjoying his clever writing style while worrying that he’s getting a bit pretentious. There’s not much question that there are some interesting stories here, but so far they’re unrelated anecdotes. Let me say this book shows potential to be fascinating and amusing, or tiresome. Jury’s out.

I’m also housing a big, fat Sharon Kay Penman paperback called When Christ and His Saints Slept, and I enjoyed The Reckoning by the same author so much that I’m excited, and hope not to be disappointed since my expectations are so high! So that’s in the queue. Also, I fly to Belgium in just 3 days for a short vacation and will need ratty paperbacks that I can leave behind on the trip. (Not sure Penman’s qualifies for this job.) There’s always more to read…

Enjoy your holidays and please do let me know what you find!

Inkheart and the failure of McCarthy’s The Road

This week I read Inkheart by Cornelia Funke. This is a children’s book, but I’ve had several (adult) patrons here who have enjoyed it, and also some that haven’t; so I’ve been interested to see what it was like. I can occasionally enjoy children’s lit, although I generally need to follow it with something with a little harder or sharper edge to it. NoveList recommends Inkheart for grades 4-12; our heroine is 12 years old, so that probably tells us who it’s intended for. But again, plenty of adult fans exist as well.

I enjoyed this book. It’s fantasy set in our real world, although our real world doesn’t interact much with that of Mo and Meggie. Mo is a bookbinder and, along with his daughter Meggie and aunt Elinor, general bibliophile. Books are an important element here, which of course I appreciate. There are good guys and bad guys and fairies and fire-breathers, and Meggie gets to be a hero. It’s enjoyable, with good imagery and satisfying good vs. evil action, and it’s the first in a trilogy, so it won’t be giving away too much to say the ending doesn’t leave everything tied up too neatly! I liked it. I would certainly pick up the second book if it crossed my desk at the right moment, but I won’t go requesting a hold at my local library or anything. That’s about a B score, same with J.D. Robb’s series. I’d pick up another but won’t go seeking them out.

When I finished Inkheart I picked up Cormac McCarthy’s The Road because, duh, everybody raved, so it must be good! Wrong! As I like to tell my patrons when they ask “did you like it?”… there’s room for all kinds of tastes in this world. How boring would it be if we all liked the same things? And how long would the lines be? There would have to be like two bands playing the same concert 6 nights a week to crowds of thousands. I think that sounds dull. So, we don’t all like the same things, and The Road is not for me. I was immediately upset by the sentence fragments, and McCarthy’s disregard for certain elements of punctuation. (Maybe he’s the next ee cummings, but I’m not impressed.) I failed to get involved with the father and the son in a few pages, and started skipping around throughout the book to see if I could find some action or interest or chapters or structure or quotation marks or commitment to complete sentences. None of the above. I spent about 30 minutes skimming cover to cover, read the beginning and the end and some parts in between, and I’m ready to say I don’t like this book. As one of my volunteers here at the library says, we’re adults now, we don’t have to finish books we don’t like!

Perhaps the enjoyment of this book lies in considering it as a poem (a la cummings, again, poetic license) or as inspirational fiction; a few reviews have pointed out the elements of faith and love as an important message, but I’m not looking for McCarthy’s version of either. This is a popular and highly reviewed book; clearly there’s a time and a place and a mindset for it. But I’m not there, and that’s ok.

So what’s next? I’m considering Secret Historian: the life and times of Samuel Steward, professor, tattoo artist, and sexual renegade by Justin Spring, or else Running the Books: the adventures of an accidental prison librarian by Avi Steinberg. Enjoy your weekend and I’ll tell you what I chose next week! Thanks…

Edit: Logged onto Librarything and asked it to predict whether I would like The Road or not and it said I probably would not, with very high confidence. Very good Librarything!!

readalike: Henrietta Lacks and The Spirit Catches You

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot, and The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, by Anne Fadiman, read almost like partner volumes to me. These two nonfiction works share author/narrators who get involved in their subjects, spending a great deal of time with the families involved and forming personal bonds. Both Fadiman and Skloot are bothered by a sense of, if not wrongdoing, something having gone awry. The subject of both books is medicine, and the interaction of the institution of western medicine with a culture that doesn’t fully understand it. Humans are important. Ethics are involved, and there are no clear rights and wrongs – or perhaps it would be better to say it’s easy to see where we went wrong, but difficult to see what the right path would have been. Even the structure and tone of the two books are similar: to understand the subject at hand, we are often taken back a step or zoomed out, to a perspective where we can see the history or the culture’s role in a specific situation. The reader learns medicine, science, history without feeling lectured. I strongly recommend both.

Lee Child’s Echo Burning, and some more nonfiction: The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down

Sorry I’ve been absent for a bit. But I have been doing some good reading.

Last week, my workday reading was Lee Child’s Echo Burning. Child and his character, Reacher, were recommended to me in my RA class, and I picked up Echo Burning because it’s set in the vast west Texas desert, an area I’m a little bit familiar with.

Child’s series starring Jack Reacher was compared by my classmate and teacher to Connelly’s series starring Harry Bosch, of which you might have noticed I’m a fan. I really read Connelly to get more of Bosch, and Reacher does share some resemblance. Bosch, while an anti-authority loner type, does actually work for the authorities as a police detective, although he’s always at odds with his bosses and occasionally leaves the fold just to make things interesting. Reacher is a former military policeman (MP) turned rogue do-gooder, in a violent sort of way. Neither has a great deal of respect for authority or the rules that dictate the way they should go about solving crimes or problems, although Harry grudgingly plays along, most of the time, at least in the clues he leaves behind, because he has to present a prosecutable case to his DA.

Reacher doesn’t have a mission like Bosch does; in this book, and I get the impression in all, he’s merely drifting, moving through town, and gets caught up in problems he then goes about solving. Bosch has a job to do, and does it well and willingly; Reacher is just taking what comes up. Actually, in many ways the Reacher story reminds me of a western, especially with this setting; he’s the lone ranger rolling through town, taking care of business and moving along. He has an endearing, chivalrous care for the ladies, but he’s awfully rough around the edges, and starkly violent.

I loved it. It was just similar enough to Connelly to get me excited – the characters were similar but different, and would probably respect one another, although they wouldn’t stick around to get to be friends. I enjoyed the setting and recognized it, which is always fun (we all enjoy realistic settings in our own hometowns, right?). I guess it had a number of my requirements: strong sense of place; moody, gritty, dark tone; and a certain “type” of main character. I think I’ll be looking for Reacher again.

This weekend I got involved in another work of nonfiction, and I have to say, I find it remarkably similar to a recent read (but I’ll tell you about that another day, so as not to ruin it). I’m about two-thirds of the way through, now, with The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, by Anne Fadiman. (There’s an excellent chance I’ll finish tonight.)

This book is about a little girl and her family’s experience: Lia Lee is a Hmong child, born in Merced, CA to recent immigrants from the Hmong people’s extended journey through China and Laos. She has severe epilepsy, and the book centers around the conflict between her family and culture, and western medicine, in their two very different understandings of what her illness is, what causes it, and how it should be treated. In addressing Lia’s story, Fadiman gives us a brief history of the Hmong people’s culture and history. It is absolutely fascinating, and for me, the cultural aspects make this book special.

It’s an educational book because it provides lots of information and facts, properly cited, about medicine and epilepsy, as well as about the Hmong people in history (and the U.S. involvement in Vietnam and Laos), their immigration here, and the treatment of refugees by our welfare and other systems. But like I said, the cultural interactions are most interesting to me. The local hospital and medical system struggle to treat Lia and give her the best possible life; her parents likewise want her to be happy and healthy. But they have such fundamental differences… it’s not like two doctors debating two courses of treatment; we’re talking about two absolutely non-compatible, to the extent that they’re not really translatable, understandings of what’s wrong with her and the causes of her disease. Translation is almost not possible in the traditional sense because of cultural norms that don’t allow for direct translation. Californians and the Hmong have so recently met that there’s no precedent for much of a need for translation; there hasn’t been time for much bilingualism to develop, nor has their been much interest, on either side. (I should note this book is more than ten years old, so the current situation is a little different.)

I’m totally engrossed in the story of Lia and her family, but equally so in the story of the Hmong people in history. I’m also intrigued by the involvement of the author/narrator and her experience in researching the book. One lesson or concept that I’m coming away with is the ease with which we can condemn someone as having done the Wrong thing, and the difficulty with which we can come up with the Right thing. This is something that always occurs to me in politics. I can clearly see policies or politicians with whom I disagree because they’re Wrong; but in such a big, complicated, diverse world, with such intertwined goals, interrelated causes and effects, and various goals, I have an awfully hard time clearly seeing The Right Way. This is why I am not running for public office! Anyway – Lia’s story might well make you realize that nobody was entirely right or entirely wrong (certainly not wrong in their intentions and best efforts) and yet, Lia did not get optimal care. These cultural exchanges are, whew, hard.

I recommend this book and hope you’ll join me in enjoying it. If you haven’t already guessed what recent read I’m comparing it to, stay tuned. To me it’s just as obvious as anything but we’ll see. Feel free to post your guess here… Til soon, enjoy your week and your books.

unrelated

In other (non-book related) news, check out my latest musings

weekend reading: a few mysteries

This weekend the Husband and I had a relaxing time at my parents’ weekend home in the country. I finished last week’s lunch book pretty quickly: that was The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, and I guess I was ready for it to be over. It was cute, entertaining, and kept me guessing through the middle portion of the book, but its momentum flagged a bit for me toward the end. Once we knew for sure whodunit, author Bradley was just a little too relaxed in tying up all the loose ends, for my taste. But, I came to really appreciate our young hero Flavia, and look forward to meeting her again late in the series. The dual frames of chemistry/poisons (Flavia) and stamp-collecting (her father) were unique and intriguing even though I share neither interest. I’ll look for more of Flavia.

For a second book I had brought along two choices: Inkheart by Cornelia Funke, and Fantasy in Death by J.D. Robb. I read the backs of both aloud to the Husband and he chose for me, the latter. Inkheart is a children’s/young adult (YA) book about a girl named Meggie whose father, by reading aloud, can bring characters to life, including the bad guy Capricorn. I can’t tell you much more about it because I haven’t read it yet! But I intend to.

So I read Fantasy in Death yesterday (had to stay up a little bit later than intended, but ah well, I was so close!). J.D. Robb is Nora Roberts’s mystery-writing nom de plume. I have read exactly one Nora Roberts books (The Stanisklaski Sisters, thanks Gala) and don’t consider myself a reader of romance. Sometimes I find them mildly amusing (recently, Julia Quinn’s The Viscount Who Loved Me). But, I confess I did find Stanislaski a bit too fluffy, and I was concerned about the forcefulness with which the men pursued and conquered the women. Some of the scenes were not far off sexual assault, and the fact that the heroines were won over by force seemed to seriously confuse the issue of “no means no!”

Because of this past experience, I was a little bit leery, I confess, and I have no experience with the romance/mystery crossover genre, so what’s that about? A few things about this book surprised me. For one, are all of J.D. Robb’s books set in the future? This was romance/mystery with sci fi thrown in too! (Answering my question, according to my new favorite online resource NoveList, yes, Robb’s series does use the same future setting.) In Fantasy in Death, Lieutenant Eve Dallas is joined by her filthy-rich gaming-mogul husband Roarke in investigating the murder of a young gaming star-on-the rise. I give Robb full credit for keeping me engaged in the gaming and tech stuff even though I don’t care one bit about either. It wasn’t super complex, but Eve and Roarke were likeable and not flat characters, and I didn’t know whodunit til the very end, and I cared, so it worked fine for me. Fluffy, yes, but enjoyable. I may very well pick up another Robb.

There wasn’t a huge amount of sex, but what there was seemed out of place, gratuitous, and sort of awkward. Eve and her sidekick Peabody discussing penises while driving around on the case was forced. I guess this is where we get the romance crossover? Actually, the relationship between Eve and Roarke was pretty realistic and heartfelt, did not feel forced to me, and made me care more about both of them, so well done there. I’m not offended by sex in books, but for dog’s sake please make it naturally a part of things.

All in all it was a fine weekend of reading books, and the Husband did some reading, too. He’s following my lead into Raymond Chandler’s The Long Goodbye. I wish you all a week of reading and recommending good books 🙂 and I wish for myself, plenty of time for the same!

moving slowly along

Bear with me, gentle reader. I’ve only had time the last few days to read over lunch. I’m slowly enjoying The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley, which is a mystery with a young amateur detective named Flavia de Luce. She’s a youthful chemist, and her father, accused of the murder of a red-headed stranger in their cucumber patch, is a passionate philatelist (student of stamps), so there are a few frame elements for you right there. This book is cute; Flavia is our first-person narrator, which poses the usual challenge  of trying to get the voice of a eleven-year-old girl right, but Bradley does passably well. She has a charming and pretty accurate self-importance to her that I find amusing, simultaneous with despair that no one else notices how great she is (least of all her two older sisters). It reminds me of other young-girl-detective novels I’ve read, like Hotel Paradise by Martha Grimes. There are some interesting secondary characters (Dogger, the gardener, sort of, is pretty complex and sympathetic) and I’m moving right along to see whodunit. There’s an intimidating librarian figure too. 🙂 I’ll let you know what else comes down the pipeline, but for now, be assured that I’m slacking a bit but not forgetting about you.

long day.

So I’m pretty tired but also really pumped at the excellent, exciting, educational trail building clinic I attended today. (Need to sleep soon because we start early tomorrow and do the REALLY hard work.) But I have two pieces of book news: 1, I purchased a copy of IMBA’s Trail Solutions manual which is pretty cool (that’s the International Mountain Biking Association). 2, the classroom portion of our class took place in a local library, so I had the chance to stop in and buy a complete set of Encyclopedia Britannica from 1981!! So cool. I bought it with this awesome project in mind, but I confess, they’re such nice books, and in such mint condition, that I might have to finger them a bit first. We shall see.

That’s all for tonight – no time to read this weekend – catch up later. Go find some trail!

discovering something new in “pop fiction”

Happy Friday, gentle reader.

I don’t often find myself reading recently released pop fiction. I’ve never read anything by Nicholas Sparks; I’ve never read Eat, Pray, Love (ok, that’s not fiction, but you get the drift); I haven’t tackled Stieg Larsson’s trilogy yet; and until this week I had not read any Jodi Picoult. (Side story: I so enjoyed Lionel Shriver’s We Need to Talk About Kevin that I began to be interested in Picoult’s Nineteen Minutes which is on the same subject; but Shriver’s book came out ~4 years before and they looked so similar I worried that Picoult was not being perhaps entirely original!) However, after reading my friend Amy‘s blog post about Handle with Care, I became interested in My Sister’s Keeper, which is discussed in that post. (Sorry if this story is a little convoluted.) Because I trust and respect Amy even though she reads and writes sci fi 🙂 I picked up My Sister’s Keeper and started it this week. So.

My usual reading routine is to keep (at least) one book going at work, which I read on lunch breaks, and almost always bring home to finish over the weekend (if I don’t, it’s not a very good book). I simultaneously have one (or more likely several) books going at home. My Sister’s Keeper has been doing so well, though, that I took it home with me last night – on a Thursday – to read at the park before a trail work session. That’s a good sign.

I spent a couple dozen pages being a little, mm, irritated I suppose, by the conversational and youthful style. The story is told from varying viewpoints, a chapter at a time in first person from a variety of characters; but we start pretty heavy on Anna, the thirteen-year-old protagonist. I think perhaps her voice was authentic for her age, and maybe that’s what bothered me a little. I pushed through my grumpiness, though, and I think I’ll take full credit for that grumpiness; I just needed an adjustment period. I like this book! The moral issues at stake are pretty interesting, and while I’m not extremely torn – I’m pretty clear on what I think “should” be – I definitely appreciate what Picoult is doing to illustrate the complexity of the question.

Quick plot synopsis: Anna was genetically engineered and conceived specifically to match older sister Kate’s needs for a tissue donor. Kate has a very complex and aggressive cancer. By the time we meet Anna (13), Kate (16) has lived a decade beyond expectations. Parents Sara and Brian (such prosaic names!) have always just drawn from Anna when Kate has needs; but now, in the face of kidney donation, Anna hires a lawyer and sues her parents for medical emancipation. If she wins, her sister dies. You can see the complexity there. No plot spoilers for now because I’m not done reading yet 🙂 although I did read Amy’s spoilers! (It’s okay, I don’t care, a good book should stand up after spoilers.)

My reaction to the dilemma is entirely on Anna’s side. Kate will die with or without a kidney transplant; Anna has much more to gain or lose in this question, and it’s high time someone took her rights into account. Here’s a kicker: read all the synopses you like of this book, and tell me, how many mention the third (eldest) sibling, Jesse? He doesn’t count at all; and Anna only counts as a body-parts donor. Sara is heard to say “stop acting like a five-year-old” to a five-year-old; she guilt trips her other two children, even at very young ages, that at least they’re not in Kate’s shoes; she rejects many pleas for normalcy because everything has to be about Kate. She accuses Jesse of injecting drugs when in fact his track marks are from donating plasma to his little sister; Sara’s so busy martyring the world that she wasn’t aware of his donations. I don’t think there’s much question here of what’s right or wrong; but for a thirteen-year-old girl to make the decision for her sister to die is pretty heavy stuff. It’s heavy for the mother, too, but I can’t believe she doesn’t have a little more concern for her other daughter.

So even though I find myself a little disgusted with one character, I like what Picoult’s doing. All of the characters are very believable; to not like a character is certainly not to not like a book or a writer’s work.

Sorry I waited so long to give this one a try! I’ll have to be a bit more open-minded in the future.

Just to keep you up to date, I’m working on Alan Bradley’s The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie at home (thanks to an RA classmate for the recommendation), and yes I will read Stieg Larsson’s trilogy one of these days, but what’s the rush? I’ll wait til there aren’t lines of people waiting for them and buy them off the used rack in a year or two. 🙂

Enjoy your weekend! I know I will, with so many good books in the world. Ahhh.