Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter by Seth Grahame-Smith (audio)

Posted on November 28, 2012 by pagesofjulia

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter is an alternative history with fantasy/paranormal elements thrown in. It reexamines Abraham Lincoln’s life, his presidency, and the American Civil War, with a twist: the US is overrun with vampires, mostly unknown to the public, who are secretly pulling the strings that shape Abe’s life, the institution of slavery, and war. The book opens with a charming sequence in which a would-be novelist in a small town on the Hudson Valley meets a new resident and gets a book idea from him. The foreboding sense in the idyllic setting reminded me of Stephen King, which is a compliment.

It is a rather fascinating concept. I had my doubts at first – again, the whole vampires-in-pop-fiction trend gave me pause; it’s not a trend I have bought into in the past. But as soon as I began the book, I was drawn in. So full points for intriguing me early on. I loved the parts about Abe’s early life; the atmosphere, the mood of tension, of Abe’s efforts against long odds, his determination in the face of tragedy, are all well executed.

But I think the middle section of the book dragged on far too long; it’s a great concept that Grahame-Smith indulged in for too many pages. All of which is to say, it probably made a great movie! That may be the proper format.

Another concern: I had some misgivings about the use of vampires to explain some of the evils in our national history. Slavery, secession, civil war, all belong to vampires in this book (with a quick mention of WWII’s genocide apparently coming from the same source). While Grahame-Smith struck me as careful to always treat these heavy topics with due sobriety, it still makes me a little uneasy to play with them in this way. Slavery and civil war are unsettling, terrifying, gruesome, disturbing enough in fact; it rather feels like diminishing their somber import to make them the fictional playthings of entertainment in this way, no matter how carefully treated. And again, the tone of this book is serious and in always respectful. But I’m just not entirely sure. It gives me pause.

Late in the book, I really missed our narrator of the beginning section: the writer, that is, who is approached by the mysterious stranger and given the lost diaries of Abraham Lincoln. The quick sketch of small-town life and the birth of this novel was a definite strength, and I regret that we never returned to that early narrator at the end of the book. I was looking forward to revisiting him.

So I have my criticisms, as you can see; but I really did enjoy this audiobook, and never considered putting it down. I think Grahame-Smith could have executed his rather genius story concept in less space: my audio ran to 9 CDs, and he could have kept it under 6, in my opinion. But again, this only makes me more interested in the movie version. Apparently the screenplay is written by Grahame-Smith as well, which is a good sign; and hopefully that format will push for a little more condensed action, which the book could have used as well. Call this a rare case where I am excited for the movie after reading the book.

The audio narration by Scott Holst was good. He emphasizes mood as a narrator should; he varied the voices of his characters a little, was not overly theatrical, but lent atmosphere where it belonged.

As always when I read historical fiction, I found myself contemplating the line where fact meets fiction. In this case, I’m sad to say (and it’s far too often that I’m sad to say this!) I don’t know the subject well enough to judge for myself; but here are a few notes of interest. At the end of my audiobook is a short interview with the author, in which I learned: first, that he was in fact quite purposefully following the aforementioned trend of vampires in pop fiction; and secondly, that he had great respect for his subject and did a fair amount of research. Now, this is a subjective measure (and he’s judging himself, which makes the judgment even more subjective), but I still find it encouraging. Finally, he mentioned a particular source of nonfiction inspiration: Doris Kearns Goodwin’s Team of Rivals, which I have in my iPod just waiting my attentions. And that was the most encouraging detail of all. 🙂

Rating: 6 fangs.

Filed under: book reviews | Tagged: , , , | 2 Comments »

Teaser Tuesdays: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter by Seth Grahame-Smith

Posted on November 20, 2012 by pagesofjulia

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!

I confess I thought this looked a little silly. Maybe it’s the whole vampires-in-pop-fiction trend? But I confess, I like it. And there’s a movie, you know… Here’s a teaser.

I shouted after him: “Why haven’t you killed me!” His answer came calmly from the next room. “Some people, Abraham, are just too interesting to kill.”

And maybe that’s how the book is striking me, too. Too interesting to kill. 🙂

What are you reading this week? Do share.

Filed under: tuesday teasers | Tagged: , , , | 5 Comments »

Rules of Civility by Amor Towles (audio)

Posted on October 12, 2012 by pagesofjulia

I have one to proselytize for, friends. Rules of Civility will certainly make the list of the greatest books I discovered in 2012.

The book opens with the story’s narrator, Katey, and her husband Val at an art opening in 1966. A few pages set the scene and the style of this book – and oh, the style! – before we’re whisked back into Katey’s reminiscences, beginning just a few hours before the new year of 1938 will be rung in. She and her best-friend-and-roommate, Eve, are out on the town, and they meet a man who buys them champagne for the toast at midnight. And then we follow Katey through the year.

Katey’s life changes a great deal in 1938, in all its aspects: career, home life, relationships, love, aspirations, her understanding of herself and of her world. I don’t want to mention any more of the plot, because I found such joy in discovering its twists myself, and you should too.

This book has many strengths. Its story is interesting: a single year, 1938, in the life of an ambitious young woman in New York City. And there are such surprises that I dropped my chin on my chest more than once. But the plot alone would not have made the book what it is. The characters are strong as well: Katey is pretty fabulous, as are a number of others. But neither is this the shining facet that draws the eye. I think the real victory is in the writing. You may have noticed (and I hope you’ve forgiven me) that I used not one but three teasers to whet your interest (here and here). It’s very evocative: I could see, hear, smell the New York City described; and further, I felt all the emotions Towles wrote. Driving to and from work and listening to this story (and Rebecca Lowman’s masterful, perfect narration), I arrived at my destination confident and optimistic, hopeful for the future, downcast, flabbergasted, or whatever that chapter called for. It was one of those very rare books that engaged me completely, made me lie awake at night worrying, wishing for certain events to transpire, caring deeply about fictional characters. It was amazing. And of course I have no great understanding of 1938 New York City; but Towles (and Lowman) have me utterly convinced that it sounded and looked and smelled and tasted exactly as described here.

And while I’m praising the writing, the style with which Katey’s voice comes alive, I must praise the reading of this audio version as well. Lowman has a frank, languid tone that feels precisely right for Katey; I love that she slows down. Her pacing is sometimes indolent and sometimes despairing, but it always adds to the sense of nostalgia in the beautiful piece of art that is Rules of Civility.

Oh, and it’s worth adding too that Katey is a reader, and literary references abound, which enriches the overall effect considerably for me and perhaps for you too.

Without having given away much plot, then, I assure you that the setting, the sense of style, and the writing on display in Rules of Civility are all remarkable. This will definitely be one of the best books I read this year, and the audio version is superb. Run out and get a copy.

Rating: 9 martinis.

Filed under: book reviews | Tagged: , , , | 6 Comments »

Teaser Tuesdays: triple-dipping from Rules of Civility by Amor Towles

Posted on October 9, 2012 by pagesofjulia

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!

Forgive me, friends! I am having too much fun with Rules of Civility not to quote from it for a second week in a row – and twice today. (See last week’s teaser here.) It was too hard to get it down to even these three teasers, I could have done more…

First for today, a bookstore-lover’s teaser.

…I stepped into a used bookshop a few doors from the salon. The shop was aptly named Calypso’s. It was a little sunlit storefront with narrow aisles and crooked shelves and a shuffling proprietor who looked like he’d been marooned on MacDougal Street for 50 years. He returned my greeting reluctantly and gestured at the books with an annoyed wave as if to say, “Peruse, if you must.” I picked an aisle at random and walked far enough into it that I would be out of his line of sight. The shelves held highfalutin books with broken spines and ragged covers – the usual second-hand bohemian fare. In this aisle there were biographies, letters and other works of historical nonfiction. At first it seemed as if they had been stuffed on the shelves willy-nilly, since neither the authors nor the subjects appeared to be in alphabetical order. Until I realized that they had been shelved chronologically. Of course they had!

Author Amor Towles has graciously shared still more about Calypso’s on the “Baedeker” section of his website. Hover over #8 to read about this little real-life bookstore, including references to a few of my favorite literary figures. Not to mention the allusions built into the Calypso’s name, and Towles’s used of the verb “marooned”…

And nextly, how about a little linguistic confusion:

In front of me, a broad-shouldered man with the twang of an oil-producing state was trying to communicate with the maitre d’, an impeccably groomed Chinaman in a tuxedo. Though both men could travel the normal distance from their accents to the neutral ear of the educated New Yorker, they were finding the distance between their respective homelands difficult to traverse.

I love this image (not to mention the coy use of “oil-producing state”).

Review coming soon, but as you can see, I’m smitten.

Filed under: tuesday teasers | Tagged: | 2 Comments »

Teaser Tuesdays: Rules of Civility by Amor Towles

Posted on October 2, 2012 by pagesofjulia

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!

I have chosen slightly longer than the standard teaser-length quotation for you here today. I feel that it perfectly sets the scene for the opening action of the book; and it’s also a great example of Towles’s writing, which I already love.

In the 1950’s, America had picked up the globe by the heels and shaken the change from its pockets. Europe had become a poor cousin – all crests and no table settings. And the indistinguishable countries of Africa, Asia, and South America had just begun skittering across our schoolroom walls like salamanders in the sun. True, the Communists were out there, somewhere, but with Joe McCarthy in the grave and no one on the Moon, for the time being the Russians just skulked across the pages of spy novels.

America in the 1950’s: there you are. I love the style of this paragraph. It’s so evocative. I’ve only begun this book, but I like it very much so far. And Rebecca Lowman’s narration feels perfect.

What are you reading this week?

Filed under: tuesday teasers | Tagged: | 5 Comments »

Bride of New France by Suzanne Desrochers

Posted on August 29, 2012 by pagesofjulia

A heartfelt novel about a 17th-century young woman’s journey from Paris to the Canadian wilds.


As a young girl, Laure is torn from her parents’ arms on the streets of 17th-century Paris–destined for the SalpĂŞtrière, a notorious institution housing destitute, insane and criminal women. She grows up with minuscule rations, sickness and tragedy, dreaming of becoming a seamstress and marrying to improve her station. Instead, she finds herself on a ship bound for the colonies of New France in Canada, as a fille du roi (“daughter of the King”)–not an opportunity but the worst of punishments.

Laure’s new life is in some ways worse than she’d imagined. She is to serve as wife to a fur trapper or soldier, doing her part to increase the population of New France, but learning how to make fine lace has left her unprepared to chop wood or defend herself in an uncivilized world of deadly cold winters, wild animals and savages. Her ill-suited husband immediately leaves her alone in a rough-hewn cabin to fend for herself, and she must turn to one of the feared Iroquois for her survival.

Suzanne Desrochers’s well-researched debut novel captures Laure’s challenges and complexities admirably, with a candid account of an era that is often glorified. The settings of squalid Paris and feral New France are well evoked, and Laure’s emotions and frustrations are easily understood. Though flawed, she is a fully human character; the future that she and her counterparts face is bleak, but hopeful as well.

This review originally ran in the August 7, 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!

Rating: 5 furs.

Filed under: book reviews | Tagged: , | 2 Comments »

The Red Queen by Philippa Gregory (audio)

Posted on July 26, 2012 by pagesofjulia

Ah, Philippa Gregory, my choice “fluffy” historical fiction author. A slightly guilty pleasure, yes.

In a nutshell, this is the (fictionalized) life story of Lady Margaret Beaufort. She is a very pious young girl, married off against her wishes first to Edmund Tudor, who widows her before she gives birth to his son at the age of 13, and then to Henry Stafford. After she’s widowed a second time, she makes her own marriage of politics, not love, to Thomas Stanley. The Tudors’ fortunes have shifted, and her son has been raised by his paternal uncle Jasper, as the House of York holds the English crown. Margaret works to promote her own son’s claim to the throne through various machinations and deceptions, pretending service to the York King Richard III and his Queen Anne. Richard is defeated on the battlefield and her son does finally take the throne himself as King Henry VII. The story is told in Margaret’s voice in first person, aside from a few passages of third-person narration towards the end, describing battles and events that (presumably) Margaret could not have described as she would not have been present.

I found Margaret unlikeable. This does not necessarily preclude me liking the book. She was self-consciously pious to the point of being self-righteous and often hypocritical: as in, “my piety is so great and God loves me so that I am deserving of the highest of honors, you should make me an abbess although I am only 13 years old,” etc. She demanded a life that was unavailable to girls or young women of her time and of her social standing; this struck me as anachronistic. I am certainly fuzzy on my historical accuracy for 15th century England! But I suspect it is unlikely that this young lady, nearly from the cradle, as it were, would be demanding such an unknown level of independence and control over her own destiny. On the other hand, perhaps the point about the young Margaret is just this: that she was odd, demanded unusual or unheard of honors. After all, the book opens with her having visions of herself as Joan of Arc. She certainly saw herself differently. So, my criticism here is qualified. And it didn’t particularly take away from my enjoyment of the book; it’s something I noted, as I continued to listen with interest in what would happen next. Did I like Margaret? Not for a moment. But I enjoyed and was held captive by her story.

There were weaknesses. The political intrigue aspects tended to be painted with a broad brush, in the fairly lazy literary convention of having a character recite the action in a monologue with explication that would not realistically be necessary if she were really making this speech. In other words, an info dump in the voice of a character. [Late in the book, we do get some passages of narration in a third-person-omniscient voice. Unfortunately, this didn’t improve things for me, particularly in this audio format, because a different reader took over; I found it a little jarring. But maybe by that point I was becoming difficult to please.] I felt that the book was most concerned with Margaret’s feelings and internal action, and it was occasionally necessary to fill us in on why so-and-so is riding into battle with so-and-so, and Gregory did it as quickly and easily as possible. This stands out in contrast to a historical fiction author I really like, Sharon Kay Penman, who takes her historical accuracy very seriously and takes the time to spell it all out very meticulously while keeping her characters very lifelike. Now, Penman and Gregory create very different reading experiences, and readers – entirely validly – are likely to prefer one or the other, and both are okay. Gregory’s books are fast-paced, emotional, hopefully riveting, and lighter on historical accuracy. Penman’s are longer, rather denser, accurate, and engrossing in that they bring the world in which they are set fully to life. One is not “better,” but they are different.

A few character developments felt rushed and unexplained to me. There is a certain man with whom Margaret suddenly shares a seeming bond of love, but I missed the progression of feelings; they were just there and then suddenly… staring into each other’s eyes and making declarations (or worse, references to an unspoken but understood shared feeling). And again, Margaret’s loyalty to and passion for her Tudor line came out of nowhere for me. When the book began, her mind was focused on God; and a little later she is full of loyalty to the Lancasters and rebuking those whose loyalty wavered. Again, I seem to have missed the part where she discovered the strong tie she felt to her relatives.

And yet I remained intrigued and kept reading. I was occasionally exasperated, but overall my experience was overwhelmingly one of enjoyment. Verdict? I am more a Sharon Kay Penman reader than a Philippa Gregory reader! I seem to be left feeling like I need to do a little research when I finish a Gregory book. But they’re good fun. And I haven’t found any audiobooks of Penman’s work yet!

Rating: 4 haughty sniffs.

Filed under: book reviews | Tagged: , | 4 Comments »

Kristin Lavransdatter: The Cross by Sigrid Undset (trans. Tiina Nunnally)

Posted on July 19, 2012 by pagesofjulia

Kristin Lavransdatter is a trilogy, comprised of The Wreath, The Wife, and The Cross. As my single volume runs nearly 1200 pages, I thought you might permit me three book reviews. 🙂 Here is book three; book one was reviewed here and book two here.

In my reviews of the first two books of Kristin Lavransdatter, I went heavy on the spoilers. It felt difficult to discuss the plot, the action, even the development of the characters – let alone my reactions, without taking that route. I’m going to try to keep this one spoiler-free, though, which also keeps it brief.

In this final installment of Kristin’s life, I felt that she changes more than she did in the first two books. Her children grow up; her circumstances change significantly. Her family grows smaller, between the loss of her children (eventually eight) to death, marriage, and travel, and the deaths of many of her loved ones as she ages. Having done battle with Erlend until the very end, she is left with a sense of remorse that she didn’t appreciate him more, that she focused on the faults. As her world narrows, she’s relegated to the place of an old lady whose values (she’s told) are out of touch; she ends up retreating to a smaller world and focuses on her relationship with God. Kristin experiences a few reunions, towards the end, but the mood of the story continues to withdraw, becoming introspective, turning away from the world.

I found the ending a little strange, circling back as it does to Kristin being an object of admiration… but it did accomplish what felt like the right tone. Kristin Lavransdatter is a fascinating, thought-provoking study of one woman’s life in a time (and place) foreign to me, and to today’s readers generally. It was hard to believe, on finishing, that the trilogy spanned well over 1000 pages. It didn’t feel like it went on that long; it was just one lifetime. But it dealt with all the phases, moods, and issues one could hope. And it was a lovely glimpse into medieval Norway that I would not have otherwise encountered.

I agree with Erin that this is a unique and beautiful book. I also agree that the translation was of high quality, and I’m sorry for those (like my father) who tried older versions and were turned off. It’s long, but it’s an easy read. Check it out.

Rating: 5 babies (whew).

Filed under: book reviews | Tagged: , | 10 Comments »

book beginnings on Friday: The Red Queen by Philippa Gregory

Posted on July 13, 2012 by pagesofjulia

Thanks to Rose City Reader 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 a bit of a guilty pleasure for me, but in the lighter area of historical fiction: Philippa Gregory! We begin…

The light of the open sky is brilliant after the darkness of the inner rooms. I blink and hear the roar of many voices. But this is not my army calling for me, this whisper growing to a rumble is not their roar of attack, the drumming of their swords on shields.

I am intrigued so far.

And what are you reading this weekend?

Filed under: book beginnings | Tagged: , | 4 Comments »

guest review: Out Stealing Horses by Per Petterson, trans. by Anne Born – from Pops

Posted on July 9, 2012 by pagesofjulia

Pops joins us again! You can see other contributions from my dad here. He says he wrote this one just to get me interested in reading it myself. 🙂 It’s on the stack, Pops. Thanks for the review!

This is one of the better books I have read in a very long time. I hesitate to use words like “spectacular!” because it’s not that kind of book. Rather, it is quite simply unique, heartwarming, insightful, and a joy to experience. I could also cite this book’s bestselling credentials (from 2005), and its broad acclaim in reviews – but let’s face it, that doesn’t always count for much.

I am also reluctant to describe what the “story” is, because in fact a summary may in itself sound spare and unremarkable – and spoil the real value here. What’s special is the way the story is told and how it is revealed, the author’s voice and the narrative structure he uses. This is a reading experience; I found myself rereading a paragraph to “taste” it anew each time: the content, the style, the implications. I liked the mood his tale creates – relaxed and thoughtful; the endearing characters, and the story’s sense of place.

Trond Sander is 67 years old as the 20th century is coming to a close and he has just moved into a small Norwegian cabin in the woods for his remaining life. In his first person narrative, we gain glimpses of his life from two perspectives: first, as he reflects while establishing a simple routine around the cabin, in the little village, on walks with his dog. His reflection also takes us back to a few formative years of his youth during & just after the German occupation of Norway, and key events that happened then.

His story unfolds in pieces between these times separated by 50 years. The narrative pace varies, sometimes relaxing and melancholy in short and simple sentences, then sometimes without warning winding up into a rush of action, revelation or redirection all in one long continuous sentence that had me holding my breath by the end. I quickly gave up any temptation to decipher “where is this story going?” – quickly I became deeply invested in the journey, it was so delicious; the destination mattered little.

And in fact, there is no conclusion, or closure, or any such catharsis. Against a simple but rich background, we learn a lot about the man, his life, his influences – and are left to contemplate the rest. Similarly, the narrative style leaves ample “work” for the reader to understand, appreciate, interpret. At the risk of confusing my point, in this way I was reminded of John le Carré – which in my sense is high praise; I love such work.

Finally, a word about the translation from Norwegian. I am always intrigued by wondering what a story was like in its original language. It seems the burden of good translation is great, and the results may be anywhere from great to disappointing; the translator essentially becomes a co-author. I don’t know Norwegian; I can only assume that such distinctive narrative style is from the author, and that its wonderful success in English reflects a skilled and faithful translation. Kudos to Anne Born for that. And, just so we get the author’s name right: Per is like “par” and Petter rhymes with “letter.”

Thanks for those final pronunciation tips. We don’t always know when we read, do we.

Well, I’m talked into it. Lovely review, Pops. Thanks for contributing!

Filed under: book reviews | Tagged: , , | 2 Comments »

« Previous Page — Next Page »