pagesofjulia

I shall set the scene: Cassandra Mortmain is seventeen years old. She lives in an impressive but largely ruined castle that represents various historical periods, in the British countryside near the town of Godsend. Her household is composed of her father (known as Mortmain), who had one extremely successful novel and has been writer’s-blocked ever since; her stepmother Topaz, a free-spirited New Age-y retired artist’s model; her older sister Rose, who laments the lack of attractive, romantic, wealthy marriageable men in their neighborhood; her younger brother Thomas, a schoolboy; and the household help, Stephen, who is crazy about Cassandra. They live in rather abject poverty, about to scrape bottom when the book opens. Cassandra is an aspiring writer, and is practicing by keeping a journal; I Capture the Castle takes the form of three volumes of that journal, a fairly unique format for a novel.

The action of the book begins when a pair of American brothers arrive at the local estate, having just inherited it, and bring fresh life into the Mortmains’ little world. Rose finds men to work on. Stephen pursues Cassandra. The entire family tries to goad Mortmain into finally working again. Thomas matures; Topaz worries; everyone’s world is widened by a little bit of travel, made possible by a friendship with the new Americans; and Cassandra falls in love. I won’t give it away.

This book is rapturously admired by many readers, writers, reviewers, and bloggers whom I respect, and I was excited about it. My final reaction is disappointment; not because I didn’t enjoy the book, but because for me, it didn’t live up to the hype. Cassandra is indeed a sympathetic, clever narrator. I like her. I wish her the best. Her writing is witty, lyrical, reflective, and funny. The entire cast of characters is really great fun; I thought Mortmain and Topaz were especially amusing, and Stephen is poignant. I liked it, really I did, but I read this book much more slowly than usual (the holidays, me having been sick for three weeks now, general malaise), and I didn’t miss it when we were apart; that’s not a particularly good sign. I feel that I will quickly forget it. I’m sad that I didn’t receive the strong vibrations that so many readers do – and again I must stress that I did like this book! It just didn’t take me to the heights reached by others.

By the end of the book Cassandra has grown up a bit, and the family’s circumstances have changed. It’s a coming-of-age story, involving a charismatic young woman, and it comes in a unique format, with lovely, quirky writing. I liked it. If you read it, hopefully you’ll love it, as many do. I cannot give a resounding enthusiastic endorsement, but there are lots of those out there if you’re interested.

Filed under: book reviews | Tagged: misc fiction | 2 Comments »

Oooh, spooky! Just that cover alone, are you kidding?? I have been hearing about this book mostly just on the blogosphere for a while now (how come I never heard about it in real life, I wonder?) and was so excited to finally find time for it! Yum! My first lightbulb moment was in reading (on the cover, in the blurb, somewhere) that Shirley Jackson also wrote The Lottery, that hair-raising short story we read in school. Aha! Scary stuff, indeed.

This was a delightful little book, and I read its 146 pages in a day – not in a sitting, mind you, but over breakfast, lunch, dinner, and before bed. I didn’t want to let it rest any longer than I had to! I loved the way that Jackson meted out details; I just knew there was something waiting for me around the corner that was going to blow the whole story wide open, if I just turned one more page…

Our narrator, Mary Katherine or Merrikat, opens the book with her last trek into town for groceries and library books. It seems she used to make this trip twice a week; but after that last time, no more. In that prior time – the whole book is told in flashback – Merrikat lived in the big family house with her sister, Constance, and their Uncle Julian, an invalid. The townspeople hate them. It gradually becomes clear why, and only as the story continues to unfold do we learn why the past tense, and what’s different about the present.

Merrikat is a delightful narrator. She sees things her own way, which is the perk of living with two well-loved relatives and a cat (Jonas) and no one else. She has her own system of controlling her world, by burying charmed items, assigning special powers to special words (melody! gloucester!), and concentration. She tries to make Cousin Charles (an unwanted visitor) go away through her own brand of witchcraft, by removing and replacing items in the room he’s staying in. She is also a delightful narrator because her reliability must be questioned.

I don’t want to give any more plot details away. You must read this book! There is a whimsical tone, and a whole new set of rules. I really enjoyed learning how Merrikat viewed the world, what items had significance to her. There was definite suspense. Believe the hype, friends. Shirley Jackson will draw you into her world and tickle the back of your neck and you’ll love it!

Filed under: book reviews | Tagged: misc fiction | 3 Comments »

I enjoyed this book, but I finished it still unsure of what actually happened in the story.

This was my first experience with the acclaimed Louise Erdrich, and she writes beautifully. I easily got lost in each chapter’s character and events; she creates a world, a culture, seemingly without effort and so completely. It was a lovely experience. This book is a series of vignettes, or character studies. Each chapter is told in first person by a different character, or even several different characters within a chapter, which to some extent added to my confusion; but they had pretty distinct voices. All the characters are related by blood, marriage, and/or life events, so there is a cohesion to the book as a whole; it’s not a collection or anything. But I’ll be honest. I sometimes lost track of how the characters were connected & who was who, exactly. Sometimes I flipped around trying to resolve things but mostly (especially as I moved further into the book) I just let myself float around a little bit confused. It worked for me this way. If you do a better job than I did of keeping things straight, I’m sure you’ll find a very enjoyable sum of all parts; but even if you take it in as I did, I think you’ll find a string of remarkable evocative stories.

The characters come from several families of Native Americans (American Indians? I’m not sure what’s correct) in North Dakota. The families overlap and merge, through marriage, the production of children both in and out of (and across) marriages; and in local politics and interactions. Their culture – as Native Americans on “the rez” as well as in each distinct, and indistinct, family unit – is one of the framing elements of the book, and I found the cultural examination very interesting. Their relationship with the “outside world” of white Americans was an important feature, too. Mostly, though, the stories feature relationships between our characters: mothers & children, spouses, lovers, aunts & uncles and neighbors. Love is a theme, and sex, and the question of parentage comes up rather frequently. There is lots of heavy drinking and battling with alcohol.

There is sadness in most of the stories, and death, but there is hope and such a great deal of humor, too. Erdrich succeeds in placing me in a place and a culture and making me feel what her characters are feeling. Her writing is beautiful, musical. And so often funny! I pulled a few passages for you that describe one of our matriarchs:

She agreed, taking alert nips of her perfectly covered slice. She had sprinkled a teaspoon of sugar over it, carefully distributing the grains. That was how she was. Even with eights boys her house was neat as a pin. The candy bowl on the table sat precisely on its doily. All her furniture was brushed and straightened. Her coffee table held a neat stack of Fate and True Adventure magazines. On her walls she’d hung matching framed portraits of poodles, kittens, and an elaborate embroidered portrait of Chief Joseph. Her windowsills were decorated with pincushions in the shapes of plump little hats and shoes.

“I make these.” She cupped a tiny blue sequined pump in her hand. “You have a girlfriend? I’ll give it to you. Here.”

…several pages later, still talking about the same woman:

Lulu was bustling about the kitchen in a calm, automatic frenzy. She seemed to fill pots with food by pointing at them and take things from the oven that she’d never put in. The table jumped to set itself. The pop foamed into glasses, and the milk sighed to the lip. The youngest boy, crushed in a high chair, watched eagerly while things placed themselves around him. Everyone sat down. Then the boys began to stuff themselves with a savage and astonishing efficient. Before Bev had cleaned his plate once, they’d had thirds, and by the time he looked up from dessert, they had melted through the walls. The youngest had levitated from his high chair and was sleeping out of sight.

See, isn’t that funny and evocative?

I found Love Medicine a unique and enjoyable read, if unorthodox in its structure. I recommend it.

For those who have read this book: did I space out somewhere, or did anyone else have trouble holding the family trees together? Does it matter?

Filed under: book reviews | Tagged: misc fiction | 3 Comments »