2016 books - part 3
Only for a Fortnight: My Life in a Locked Ward by Sue Read
Sue Read spent a good chunk of her childhood in an adult mental institution, during the 1960s and 1970s. The book was published in 1989. She writes in a very raw way, and seems off-putting, but given what she'd been through it's not surprising. A good part of the book deals with her life for the few years after she'd left the institution.
What is striking is that diabetes, and inability to control it, are a relatively big part of the reason she was institutionalized. She was also struggling badly with the sudden death of her father, as was her mother who found it hard to cope. She was supposed to be in the institution "only for a fortnight." She was 12 when put into an adult ward, and suffered sexual, physical, and emotional abuse. There never seemed to be much effort to help in terms of medication or talk therapy.
Some medical notes are in an appendix at the end, and they shine rather favorably on the doctors involved, but those doctors were not the people who dealt with the patients every day on the wards. They are not medical notes in terms of health details we usually think of but mostly doctors writing back and forth about how it's not okay to have a child in an adult ward.
Bolivar: American Liberator by Marie Arana
This is a very detailed, thorough biography of Bolivar, which attempts to redress some of the misconceptions about him (both positive and negative mythologies).
It was a really interesting read, but maybe a bit too sprawling for me. My brain would probably do better with the history broken up into a few volumes with more specific focuses.
One of the things that stood out for me was a similarity between Bolivar and Julius Caesar, which isn't a comparison I thought I'd be making.
I'm definitely still digesting this one, and feeling like I'm not grasping all the pieces of the history. Hopefully it's the start of more reading about South America.
Alchemy and Meggy Swann by Karen Cushman
I've been reading Cushman's books since I was nine or ten and received Catherine, Called Birdy as my Scholastic book of the month. She's not a hugely prolific author, so I just check every few years for new books. However much I love Cushman's books I might have hesitated if I'd read the description of this one and realized it was about a physically disabled girl, as disability is often handled very poorly, particularly in historical settings. (I'm disabled myself.)
Cushman soon erased all of my doubts. She was so smart in how she went about writing this. First, she chose a real condition and researched it - hip dysplasia, which can be corrected without too much trouble, but if left means the legs don't develop in the usual way and the person is left crippled and in pain. This often results from a certain type of breech birth, and of course couldn't be corrected in the early Elizabethan period when this book is set. Cushman's choice to allow Meggy to be angry, at other people, not at herself or necessarily because of her disability, was equally wondrous. In fiction, there are two prominent disabled tropes - the Pollyanna and the bitter cripple. We are rarely allowed to be outspoken and angry and grouchy and be a protagonist. Meggy's disability impacts how she goes about things but it has little to nothing to do with the main plot of the book. Third, Cushman lets Meggy sometimes use typical historical perceptions of disability as a result of curses or demonic possession to her own advantage when trying to get people to leave her alone (I say historical, but the Catholic church still wasn't accepting men with epilepsy into the priesthood in the 1960s due to the old 'demonic possession' explanation).
After Meggy's grandmother dies, her mother sends her to London to live with her father, who she doesn't know. He's an alchemist and takes little notice of her, never even using her name. As she learns the streets and makes herself useful running errands, she befriends a variety of people. Soon she overhears men buying poison from her father with the intent of killing an Earl. She's shocked and tries to talk her father out of it, but soon must find a way to foil the plot herself.
I really loved this book, and I'm so relieved and pleased that Cushman took this representation seriously. My love for her remains undiminished. DISABLED CHARACTER DONE RIGHT
The Shepherd's Crown by Terry Pratchett
First off, please read all the Tiffany books before you read this one. Her development as a character is important, and these books do have a slightly different style to most of the other Discworld books (fewer pithy one-liners in the narration, a more traditional narrative style). I think because the Tiffany books have always been a bit different this one was easier to keep up to standard than some of the last adult novels (Raising Steam felt so odd to me, but I loved Snuff, so I'm not sure what was going on there).
The book opens with a pretty powerful punch to the reader, Granny Weatherwax's death (literally in the first 15 or so pages, not a spoiler, and Pratchett actually made it obvious that's where it was going in the dedication). She has chosen Tiffany to succeed her, a heavy burden which Tiffany tries to uphold. Add to that the elves are trying to break through again.
I think towards the end the pacing went off the rails a bit, but I have a feeling Pratchett knew this would be his last book. Otherwise I think it reads as solidly as the other Tiffany books, though I was dubious at using the elves again.
Griffin and Sabine by Nick Bantock RE-READ
I'm the baby of a big family, and my closest-in-age sibling is still four and a half years older than me. I worshiped her, and liked everything she liked, but the age gap meant she didn't particularly want to share her favorites with me and would actively try to prevent me reading her books.
She did, however, share Griffin and Sabine with me, when I was 13 or 14, and I fell in love with the books, the art, and the world Nick Bantock created. They will always have a special place in my heart.
Reading them as a proper adult, perhaps a rather cynical one, I found the nearly instant love between Griffin and Sabine a bit much. Going from strangers to explaining Sabine's strange gift of seeing what Griffin draws, to “you've made life worthwhile” in a few letters and postcards was too rapid for me. The art remains absolutely enjoyable though, and there's an extreme tactile glee I still feel pulling the letters from their envelopes.
Bantock remains a wonderful artist, with a true gift for creating unique books and combining his art and writing. I would most recommend the Griffin and Sabine books to the 12-24 age range, or older if the recipient is a sensitive romantic.
If I recall correctly, his The Museum at Purgatory, was more enjoyable as a slightly older kid (read when I was 21, so my memories are not that reliable).
A Woman in Berlin by Anonymous (possibly Marta Hillers)
An incredibly important account of life in Berlin just before and after the surrender. It is obviously the work of a practiced journalist, and she tries to keep a very even tone even throughout fraught events (basically the whole book!). Food is scarce, rapes are incredibly common and frequent, electricity and water are mostly cut, and many have been bombed or burned out of their homes.
The book was published in Germany in 1953 were it was either “ignored or reviled.” The author did not want it republished in her lifetime so the recent edition only came out in 2003. It is widely believed that the author was Marta Hillers, but only one person actually knows, so it's ridiculous that so many spaces on the internet credit it to Hillers without reservation.
Again, a work of great importance, documenting a period and events that are frequently glossed over or not studied at all.
Silas Marner by George Eliot
This is the book that put my dad off reading anything else by Eliot after it was assigned in high school, and a good reminder that choosing a particular book by a classic author because it's short. It's a shame, as I think he'd enjoy Eliot's work. I'm glad high school only ruined me on the work of Wade Davis.
Silas Marner is Eliot's third novel, published in 1861. I didn't enjoy it as much as I did The Mill on the Floss and it didn't always hold my interest in the first quarter, but I do like Eliot's writing. Marner's story just seems more traditional and certainly more predictable (as are most Victorian novels, frankly, and that's not necessarily a shortcoming but Mill stood out to me for being less so).
Definitely going to keep on with Eliot.
Burnt Offerings by Laurell K. Hamilton RE-READ
Seventh book in the series, trouble begins when the vampire council come basically to get rid of Jean-Claude and/or Anita. Much posturing, many clashes between Anita and Richard as she's still technically Lupa of the werewolves but he's forbidden them to talk to her and then there are wereleopards and an arsonist and coordinated attacks against all vampire owned businesses and Dolph (head of the preternatural crime division that Anita works with) doesn't like her anymore because she's dating a vampire etc etc etc...
Things start to get a bit too packed and silly and the crime aspect takes up less of the book (and without it I think the books are far inferior). This book and the next one are ones I've rarely re-read, but I'm looking forward to the ninth book, Obsidian Butterfly as it was a favorite. Anita leaves town to help Edward so it's basically all crime-based and that's the point where I will stop the re-reads.
Bellwether by Connie Willis
I've really enjoyed Connie Willis' time travel books, and had been planning to re-read one when I noticed my library had an audio edition of this title. So glad I picked it up, as it was immensely fun and funny. The narrator is a scientist who studies trends working for a relatively terrible company with a bad case of bureaucratic over-reach. She's attempting to figure out why suddenly millions of women bobbed their hair, and as the book goes along mentions various strange (and largely short) trends throughout history.
Published in 1996 you'd think the biting commentary on the current trends would be dated, but it's absolutely not. If you didn't tell people the actual publication date I think they'd believe 100% that it could have been written this year. Well, maybe you'd have to say it took place in a slightly alternate universe where cellphones aren't so advanced (or just give excerpts), but her commentary on restaurant trends, body modification trends, language, coffee, etc... is all totally on point.
I can't express how much I enjoyed this and I highly recommend it. WONDERFUL AND HILARIOUS
Sabriel by Garth Nix RE-READ
I absolutely loved this book when I read it in 2008 and time hasn't changed my feelings about it. Every time I review a book by Nix I say that he's the heir to L. Frank Baum when it comes to world building. Frankly, I don't understand a world where The Golden Compass (UK title Northern Lights) is more known and read than Sabriel, which I feel is a much more original and interesting book.
Sabriel is the first of a trilogy, since expanded into four with the publication of Clariel, which I thought lacked some of the thrill and even pacing of the original three. They are in the YA market, but suitable down to age ten or so, depending on the child, and just as enjoyable as an adult reader.
Two countries are divided by a wall, and on one side, in the Old Kingdom, free magic and charter magic are strong. To the south, in Ancesltierre, magic is only found at the border and is denied by much of the country. One necromancer under the title of Abhorsen keeps the undead and other forces in check. Sabriel's father has been the Abhorsen but when he falls and sends his tools, a set of bells and sword, to Sabriel, she must cross the border and stop Kerrigor, a powerful free magic necromancer.
I suppose that might sound typical, but it's a quality book, and really good YA/children's fantasy can be tough to find. This was initially published in 1995 and would have stood out HUGELY from the crowd then, as it did in the early 2000s when it became more well known in the US. I'm excited to re-read the other books in the series now.
Know the Mother by Desiree Cooper (Made in Michigan Writers Series)
I've been attempting to pay more attention to small press publications and thankfully BookRiot has a monthly series about small press books to watch for. This one was on their March list and caught my eye. Their description:
Michiganders will be especially interested in this collection from a Detroit community activist. Women will be especially interested because this book explores what looks to be some pretty gut-punching moments in the life of women (and women of color, specifically). Mothers are humanized in this collection; the archetype of Mother is explored against the complex needs of the individual.
These are all quite short vignettes, some only a page long, but they are extremely well done and powerful. Cooper comes at some angles sideways, and you need to be on your toes to catch all of the nuance or even the main point in some. Covering these in a writing class I think you could take two weeks discussing some of the vignettes. I'm really impressed with Cooper's skill in crafting these, and I know I'll want to re-read them.
Because of the shortness I feel less certain of giving a general recommendation. I'm not a huge fan of short stories, but these shorter pieces (they can't be called short stories, mostly) appealed to me more. Sadly, it's probably not a book that will be widely available in libraries, but if you see it, give it a go. The pieces being so short the book sucks you in, and much as I wanted to savor them I read it in two sittings. AMAZING FLASH FICTION
Vengeance Road by Erin Bowman
Maybe YA historical westerns are going to be the new trend?
Kate found her father hanged and their house burned and vowed to track down his killers. She disguises herself as a boy and kills one of the men from the gang responsible in the first ten or so pages of the book. So yeah, a quick start to old time western violence...
It wasn't the best book ever, but it was something a little different in the YA market and relatively fun. Bowman falls into a romanticized "wise American Indian guide/sage" trope, but doesn't compound it as horribly as she could have. I think she also complicated the plot a fair bit more than she needed to for a single book and I'm not convinced she did much research for it (too many aspects felt cartoonish).
Interesting to me that the author seems to have absolutely no connection to the American southwest. Her dialogue felt a little off, in terms of the dialect stuff, but I'm not the best judge for that area. She's doing another YA western, but I probably won't particularly look for it. Not a bad read, but I don't have enough interest to keep going.
China in Ten Words by Yu Hua
This is a selection of essays focusing on ten Chinese words (and frequently on how their meaning changed over the course of the author's life) and how they relate to Chinese culture and life. Yu Hua is primarily a fiction writer who came of age during the Cultural Revolution.
The essays are frequently autobiographical but drawn from a wider experience as well, and are well-written and considered. They generally end talking about the word's meaning in China today. It was a really interesting read, and I'd generally recommend it.
A Very Dangerous Woman: The Lives, Loves, and Lies of Russia's Most Seductive Spy by Deborah McDonald
As seems to frequently be the case, I think the author/publisher went a bit wild with the subtitle of this book. Maria (Moura) Budberg was born into an aristocratic Ukrainian family around 1891. She was very intelligent, reveled in being the center of attention, and was extremely charismatic, one of those people that others can't seem to help but like.
She certainly did some spying against Germany, set up as a bit of a double agent, during WWI, and did her share of whispering important tidbits down the line to the British throughout the years following the Russian revolution. However, facts about was she/wasn't she spying past the 1920s aren't really available. There was largely just an awful lot of rumor, some of which she created herself. Whatever hints we have, they are simply hints and there really isn't any hard evidence and there will likely never be any.
That being said, it was an interesting book because she was an interesting woman. While she destroyed all of her own papers, many letters she sent were kept and she was associated with many interesting people throughout her life, including Maxim Gorky and HG Wells. The book is well written and scrupulously end-noted. It took about a third of the way in to really grip me, but made for a good read.
Shadows of the Workhouse by Jennifer Worth
In this second memoir by the author of Call the Midwife, Worth focuses not on births but people met through her work whose lives were impacted by the Victorian workhouse system (relatively unchanged into the 20th century). These are individual tales, told at length. Some of them are so personal that I'm curious how Worth got these stories, but others she tells us. The only deviation from the workhouse theme is the story of Sister Monica Joan's petty thieving and the serious court case that came with it (pretty identical to how it's depicted in the TV show).
One of the few big changes from the books to the TV show is the story of Jane, a quiet, incredibly nervous person who worked in the convent/nurse's home. In the show it's changed pretty much out of all recognition to fit in with a story about homes for children and adults with mental and physical disabilities.
I'm grateful that Worth was a young person who valued these stories and was willing to listen, as there aren't very many records of workhouse life.
My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante
Sometimes seeing many reviews before reading helps me with my review, but in this case I think it's hindering me. I liked the book, but didn't love it (I'm not great with unlikable characters and the narrator and her brilliant friend are quite unlikable), which makes me feel slightly like an outsider.
I think I'd probably slate the idea of picking up the next book entirely, except that this one ended SO abruptly and Ferrante engaged me enough that I do want to know what happens to Lenu and Lila. The time and the place are interesting me more than those characters in some ways, and it feels like a realistic snapshot.
Ferrante has said that the four books making up this series should be considered as a single novel published serially, which I didn't realize at all before reading the book, and I think that is important to note. I don't know why I often rebel against reading multiple books by a single author in the same month, but I do internally find it troubling.
The Cracks in the Kingdom by Jaclyn Moriarty
I became devoted to Moriarty after reading her WONDERFUL and HILARIOUS YA novel-in-letters/faxes/notes on the fridge, Feeling Sorry for Celia, and that was cemented due to her excellent second novel The Year of Secret Assignments (UK/Australia title Finding Cassie Crazy, sorry, but the American title is so much better on that one). While I think she goes a bit too silly/magical realism-y in other works, I still love her books. I wasn't excited to read her YA full-on-fantasy books, but the first one dragged me in and was quite enjoyable.
This is the second book and it really had me in its grips! Moriarty has always excelled in getting me deeply invested in her characters and this is no different despite my low-level aversion to YA fantasy. Add to that, the fantasy world she created is quite original, which will always win my praise.
I'd start the third book immediately but it doesn't seem to be out in audio yet. The audio editions feature a few different readers and it's done very well. I want to read the last book so much that I went through the trouble of searching the author and sending her a message directly about the audiobook release date. QUITE NICE
Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin
I'd like to hold this review until my book club discusses the book, but I like my reviews to be in order, and probably my brain could use the exercise.
This is a classic of the LGBT genre, and considered one of the better portrayals of homosexuality of the period. Though I think we should stop saying that, because it mostly just makes you shake your head that THIS is the good portrayal that ends with misery and death, as most of them do. Given that gay characters (particularly women) are still being killed off TV and movies at a hugely alarming rate, it's even more frustrating.
I really enjoyed Baldwin's prose, but felt his dialogue writing was stilted and unnatural. Great dialogue writing is always difficult, and some issues with it stand out hugely when you're listening to an audio edition.
I don't have much to say about it, other than that I think the people putting the main character, David, in the bisexual camp are wrong. His encounters with women always spring from anxiety about the prevalent societal and cultural standards of masculinity and normalcy. Being able to get through a sexual encounter with your non-preferred gender is extremely common now, let alone in the 1950s when the pressure and rigid gender roles were much more intense, and does not negate identifying as gay.
The Colonel by Mahmoud Dowlatabadi
This was a interesting read, and a really well-written book. At times the magical realism moments, the narrator seeing the dead or people who aren't there or imagining whole scenes between others, were confusing, but I think overall it worked for me. Wikipeida says Dowlatabadi specifically never sought publication for the book in Iran due to political pressures, and Amazon says the book was banned in Iran but I think the former is correct. The book was written in the 1980s and not published in Germany until around 2009 (I believe). It was published in the US in 2012.
Set over the course of a single night but with many flashbacks, the colonel must bury his daughter who was tortured and killed by the current regime after the Islamic Revolution in Iran. One of the main themes is the murder and imprisonment of the leaders of change in Iran after a different group or movement takes charge. Dowlatabadi did this so well, though I know I'm not describing it well.
A very good read, and very skillfully written (and translated). VERY GOOD
Charity and Sylvia: A Same-Sex Marriage in Early America by Rachel Hope Cleves
This was a brilliant and refreshing read, just what I needed in all ways. It is positive, upbeat, and rigorously sourced. Charity and Sylvia moved in together, on their own, in the first decade of of the 19th century. They lived together for over forty years, and were integral parts of their town's life.
Dozens of nieces and nephews were named for the women, frequently Charity's family would name children after Sylvia and vice-versa Cleves fills in the detail and fills in why this was an unlikely turn of events (women were rarely able to set up households on their own, and unmarried women were frequently shuffled around between family members).
It's well written and I highly recommend it. BEST BOOK EVER
The Pharos Gate by Nick Bantock
This new volume in the Griffin and Sabine series fits right in between the two trilogies, filling in their journey to Alexandria.
I have perhaps lost most of the romantic idealism that I ever had, but I think it falls short of the original books and the emotion felt a little forced. I question whether the volume was really necessary, and I'm not convinced it adds to the series.
Unrelated to romanticism, while Griffin and Sabine are trying to elude Frolatti and his mystical agents, perhaps postcards are not the best form of correspondence... Likewise, how on earth is there enough time for the letters to reach them as they're both traveling towards each other. This world has a much more efficient system of mail delivery, apparently. Some of the details were less well-considered than in the originals as well, such as the type written letters. In the original books they're full of typos, adding to the realism (which is necessary in a fantastical series), but in this one they're perfect and in a less real-feeling typewriter font.
As usual, the art is absolutely beautiful, and the enchantment of opening the envelopes and pulling out the pages is lovely. For new readers maybe the extra volume is nice, and perhaps appreciated, though I rather assume the difficulty of receiving mail while on the go is part of why it wasn't done originally.
The Battle of Hastings: The Fall of Anglo-Saxon England by Harriet Harvey Wood
I've read a couple other books on the battle, including David Howarth's 1066: The Year of the Conquest. I found Wood's book to be superior in many ways, and it was a great read. Wood puts the Anglo-Saxon period into MUCH better focus, and the detail is fantastic without seeming dry.
Highly recommended to the history lover. The main focus is not the nitty gritty of the battle, though of course that's covered. GREAT
Chronicle in Stone by Ismail Kadare
After absolutely loving Kadare's The Siege, I had pretty high expectations for this one. It draws on Kadare's own childhood and sometimes verges into the surreal, which in some ways follows reality. The town is taken and lost back and forth between Italians, Greeks, Germans, etc... One group free the prisoners while the next rulers order the freed prisoners back into jail.
It has many comic notes, and many tragic ones, with the chapters alternating between a young boy's viewpoint and the formal tones of the town chronicler. It is a book which warrants a second reading, I think, in print for me as the audiobook reader was not good and impacted my enjoyment of the work. The translation history is a bit checkered, and one does feel that Kadare's including brief bits of Enver Hoxha (dictator of Albania from 1944-1985) towards the end was strictly a political move.
I'm certainly not done with Kadare though. A friend of mine is devoted to him, and I'll hopefully read Twilight of the Eastern Gods next. Kadare is such a good writer, and I'll be thinking about this one for a while.
Midaq Alley by Naguib Mahfouz
Mahfouz is one of my favorite authors, and this book in particular was recommended to me by a friend some time ago. Of course my library didn't have it, so I continued reading Mahfouz's other works. This past February I found an anthology of Mahfouz that included this book (also The Thief and the Dogs and Miramar).
One of the joys of reading many works by a single author is the fact that sometimes it takes a while to figure out why you enjoy their writing or pinpoint a specific skill. Of course it's difficult with works in translation, but I think Mahfouz is very gifted at writing his characters without judgement. Yet at the same I think he subtly lets us know when he disagrees with their behavior. The writing without judgement really shone in this one.
Midaq Alley is a poor area of Cairo, and our focus for the novel. Each chapter shifts focus to a different character making up a little microcosm. We follow them for some months, seeing their trials and tribulations. Mahfouz is an excellent character writer, with a very firm grasp on psychology. I believe many of his books also have a timeless quality, both in the sense of "this could have been written any time" but sometimes a sense of "this could be any time" as well (well, within a specific range of times).
Temples, Tombs, and Hieroglyphs: A Popular History of Ancient Egypt by Barbara Mertz
Barbara Mertz was a goddess among writers. I was trying to save this one for a rainy day, but I couldn't wait. She was brilliant and so incredibly funny. She's also rigorous about pointing out speculation and guesses and the various sides to various controversies among historians of ancient Egypt.
She was such a fun writer, and you can tell she was passionate about her subject. Yet didn't put it on a high pedestal and had no trouble adjusting to new information or accepting that we may never know certain things. She has her theories, of course, but she's incredibly upfront about them.
And again, she is funny! I laughed so much during this. NEW HISTORIAN CRUSH
Sue Read spent a good chunk of her childhood in an adult mental institution, during the 1960s and 1970s. The book was published in 1989. She writes in a very raw way, and seems off-putting, but given what she'd been through it's not surprising. A good part of the book deals with her life for the few years after she'd left the institution.
What is striking is that diabetes, and inability to control it, are a relatively big part of the reason she was institutionalized. She was also struggling badly with the sudden death of her father, as was her mother who found it hard to cope. She was supposed to be in the institution "only for a fortnight." She was 12 when put into an adult ward, and suffered sexual, physical, and emotional abuse. There never seemed to be much effort to help in terms of medication or talk therapy.
Some medical notes are in an appendix at the end, and they shine rather favorably on the doctors involved, but those doctors were not the people who dealt with the patients every day on the wards. They are not medical notes in terms of health details we usually think of but mostly doctors writing back and forth about how it's not okay to have a child in an adult ward.
Bolivar: American Liberator by Marie Arana
This is a very detailed, thorough biography of Bolivar, which attempts to redress some of the misconceptions about him (both positive and negative mythologies).
It was a really interesting read, but maybe a bit too sprawling for me. My brain would probably do better with the history broken up into a few volumes with more specific focuses.
One of the things that stood out for me was a similarity between Bolivar and Julius Caesar, which isn't a comparison I thought I'd be making.
I'm definitely still digesting this one, and feeling like I'm not grasping all the pieces of the history. Hopefully it's the start of more reading about South America.
Alchemy and Meggy Swann by Karen Cushman
I've been reading Cushman's books since I was nine or ten and received Catherine, Called Birdy as my Scholastic book of the month. She's not a hugely prolific author, so I just check every few years for new books. However much I love Cushman's books I might have hesitated if I'd read the description of this one and realized it was about a physically disabled girl, as disability is often handled very poorly, particularly in historical settings. (I'm disabled myself.)
Cushman soon erased all of my doubts. She was so smart in how she went about writing this. First, she chose a real condition and researched it - hip dysplasia, which can be corrected without too much trouble, but if left means the legs don't develop in the usual way and the person is left crippled and in pain. This often results from a certain type of breech birth, and of course couldn't be corrected in the early Elizabethan period when this book is set. Cushman's choice to allow Meggy to be angry, at other people, not at herself or necessarily because of her disability, was equally wondrous. In fiction, there are two prominent disabled tropes - the Pollyanna and the bitter cripple. We are rarely allowed to be outspoken and angry and grouchy and be a protagonist. Meggy's disability impacts how she goes about things but it has little to nothing to do with the main plot of the book. Third, Cushman lets Meggy sometimes use typical historical perceptions of disability as a result of curses or demonic possession to her own advantage when trying to get people to leave her alone (I say historical, but the Catholic church still wasn't accepting men with epilepsy into the priesthood in the 1960s due to the old 'demonic possession' explanation).
After Meggy's grandmother dies, her mother sends her to London to live with her father, who she doesn't know. He's an alchemist and takes little notice of her, never even using her name. As she learns the streets and makes herself useful running errands, she befriends a variety of people. Soon she overhears men buying poison from her father with the intent of killing an Earl. She's shocked and tries to talk her father out of it, but soon must find a way to foil the plot herself.
I really loved this book, and I'm so relieved and pleased that Cushman took this representation seriously. My love for her remains undiminished. DISABLED CHARACTER DONE RIGHT
The Shepherd's Crown by Terry Pratchett
First off, please read all the Tiffany books before you read this one. Her development as a character is important, and these books do have a slightly different style to most of the other Discworld books (fewer pithy one-liners in the narration, a more traditional narrative style). I think because the Tiffany books have always been a bit different this one was easier to keep up to standard than some of the last adult novels (Raising Steam felt so odd to me, but I loved Snuff, so I'm not sure what was going on there).
The book opens with a pretty powerful punch to the reader, Granny Weatherwax's death (literally in the first 15 or so pages, not a spoiler, and Pratchett actually made it obvious that's where it was going in the dedication). She has chosen Tiffany to succeed her, a heavy burden which Tiffany tries to uphold. Add to that the elves are trying to break through again.
I think towards the end the pacing went off the rails a bit, but I have a feeling Pratchett knew this would be his last book. Otherwise I think it reads as solidly as the other Tiffany books, though I was dubious at using the elves again.
Griffin and Sabine by Nick Bantock RE-READ
I'm the baby of a big family, and my closest-in-age sibling is still four and a half years older than me. I worshiped her, and liked everything she liked, but the age gap meant she didn't particularly want to share her favorites with me and would actively try to prevent me reading her books.
She did, however, share Griffin and Sabine with me, when I was 13 or 14, and I fell in love with the books, the art, and the world Nick Bantock created. They will always have a special place in my heart.
Reading them as a proper adult, perhaps a rather cynical one, I found the nearly instant love between Griffin and Sabine a bit much. Going from strangers to explaining Sabine's strange gift of seeing what Griffin draws, to “you've made life worthwhile” in a few letters and postcards was too rapid for me. The art remains absolutely enjoyable though, and there's an extreme tactile glee I still feel pulling the letters from their envelopes.
Bantock remains a wonderful artist, with a true gift for creating unique books and combining his art and writing. I would most recommend the Griffin and Sabine books to the 12-24 age range, or older if the recipient is a sensitive romantic.
If I recall correctly, his The Museum at Purgatory, was more enjoyable as a slightly older kid (read when I was 21, so my memories are not that reliable).
A Woman in Berlin by Anonymous (possibly Marta Hillers)
An incredibly important account of life in Berlin just before and after the surrender. It is obviously the work of a practiced journalist, and she tries to keep a very even tone even throughout fraught events (basically the whole book!). Food is scarce, rapes are incredibly common and frequent, electricity and water are mostly cut, and many have been bombed or burned out of their homes.
The book was published in Germany in 1953 were it was either “ignored or reviled.” The author did not want it republished in her lifetime so the recent edition only came out in 2003. It is widely believed that the author was Marta Hillers, but only one person actually knows, so it's ridiculous that so many spaces on the internet credit it to Hillers without reservation.
Again, a work of great importance, documenting a period and events that are frequently glossed over or not studied at all.
Silas Marner by George Eliot
This is the book that put my dad off reading anything else by Eliot after it was assigned in high school, and a good reminder that choosing a particular book by a classic author because it's short. It's a shame, as I think he'd enjoy Eliot's work. I'm glad high school only ruined me on the work of Wade Davis.
Silas Marner is Eliot's third novel, published in 1861. I didn't enjoy it as much as I did The Mill on the Floss and it didn't always hold my interest in the first quarter, but I do like Eliot's writing. Marner's story just seems more traditional and certainly more predictable (as are most Victorian novels, frankly, and that's not necessarily a shortcoming but Mill stood out to me for being less so).
Definitely going to keep on with Eliot.
Burnt Offerings by Laurell K. Hamilton RE-READ
Seventh book in the series, trouble begins when the vampire council come basically to get rid of Jean-Claude and/or Anita. Much posturing, many clashes between Anita and Richard as she's still technically Lupa of the werewolves but he's forbidden them to talk to her and then there are wereleopards and an arsonist and coordinated attacks against all vampire owned businesses and Dolph (head of the preternatural crime division that Anita works with) doesn't like her anymore because she's dating a vampire etc etc etc...
Things start to get a bit too packed and silly and the crime aspect takes up less of the book (and without it I think the books are far inferior). This book and the next one are ones I've rarely re-read, but I'm looking forward to the ninth book, Obsidian Butterfly as it was a favorite. Anita leaves town to help Edward so it's basically all crime-based and that's the point where I will stop the re-reads.
Bellwether by Connie Willis
I've really enjoyed Connie Willis' time travel books, and had been planning to re-read one when I noticed my library had an audio edition of this title. So glad I picked it up, as it was immensely fun and funny. The narrator is a scientist who studies trends working for a relatively terrible company with a bad case of bureaucratic over-reach. She's attempting to figure out why suddenly millions of women bobbed their hair, and as the book goes along mentions various strange (and largely short) trends throughout history.
Published in 1996 you'd think the biting commentary on the current trends would be dated, but it's absolutely not. If you didn't tell people the actual publication date I think they'd believe 100% that it could have been written this year. Well, maybe you'd have to say it took place in a slightly alternate universe where cellphones aren't so advanced (or just give excerpts), but her commentary on restaurant trends, body modification trends, language, coffee, etc... is all totally on point.
I can't express how much I enjoyed this and I highly recommend it. WONDERFUL AND HILARIOUS
Sabriel by Garth Nix RE-READ
I absolutely loved this book when I read it in 2008 and time hasn't changed my feelings about it. Every time I review a book by Nix I say that he's the heir to L. Frank Baum when it comes to world building. Frankly, I don't understand a world where The Golden Compass (UK title Northern Lights) is more known and read than Sabriel, which I feel is a much more original and interesting book.
Sabriel is the first of a trilogy, since expanded into four with the publication of Clariel, which I thought lacked some of the thrill and even pacing of the original three. They are in the YA market, but suitable down to age ten or so, depending on the child, and just as enjoyable as an adult reader.
Two countries are divided by a wall, and on one side, in the Old Kingdom, free magic and charter magic are strong. To the south, in Ancesltierre, magic is only found at the border and is denied by much of the country. One necromancer under the title of Abhorsen keeps the undead and other forces in check. Sabriel's father has been the Abhorsen but when he falls and sends his tools, a set of bells and sword, to Sabriel, she must cross the border and stop Kerrigor, a powerful free magic necromancer.
I suppose that might sound typical, but it's a quality book, and really good YA/children's fantasy can be tough to find. This was initially published in 1995 and would have stood out HUGELY from the crowd then, as it did in the early 2000s when it became more well known in the US. I'm excited to re-read the other books in the series now.
Know the Mother by Desiree Cooper (Made in Michigan Writers Series)
I've been attempting to pay more attention to small press publications and thankfully BookRiot has a monthly series about small press books to watch for. This one was on their March list and caught my eye. Their description:
Michiganders will be especially interested in this collection from a Detroit community activist. Women will be especially interested because this book explores what looks to be some pretty gut-punching moments in the life of women (and women of color, specifically). Mothers are humanized in this collection; the archetype of Mother is explored against the complex needs of the individual.
These are all quite short vignettes, some only a page long, but they are extremely well done and powerful. Cooper comes at some angles sideways, and you need to be on your toes to catch all of the nuance or even the main point in some. Covering these in a writing class I think you could take two weeks discussing some of the vignettes. I'm really impressed with Cooper's skill in crafting these, and I know I'll want to re-read them.
Because of the shortness I feel less certain of giving a general recommendation. I'm not a huge fan of short stories, but these shorter pieces (they can't be called short stories, mostly) appealed to me more. Sadly, it's probably not a book that will be widely available in libraries, but if you see it, give it a go. The pieces being so short the book sucks you in, and much as I wanted to savor them I read it in two sittings. AMAZING FLASH FICTION
Vengeance Road by Erin Bowman
Maybe YA historical westerns are going to be the new trend?
Kate found her father hanged and their house burned and vowed to track down his killers. She disguises herself as a boy and kills one of the men from the gang responsible in the first ten or so pages of the book. So yeah, a quick start to old time western violence...
It wasn't the best book ever, but it was something a little different in the YA market and relatively fun. Bowman falls into a romanticized "wise American Indian guide/sage" trope, but doesn't compound it as horribly as she could have. I think she also complicated the plot a fair bit more than she needed to for a single book and I'm not convinced she did much research for it (too many aspects felt cartoonish).
Interesting to me that the author seems to have absolutely no connection to the American southwest. Her dialogue felt a little off, in terms of the dialect stuff, but I'm not the best judge for that area. She's doing another YA western, but I probably won't particularly look for it. Not a bad read, but I don't have enough interest to keep going.
China in Ten Words by Yu Hua
This is a selection of essays focusing on ten Chinese words (and frequently on how their meaning changed over the course of the author's life) and how they relate to Chinese culture and life. Yu Hua is primarily a fiction writer who came of age during the Cultural Revolution.
The essays are frequently autobiographical but drawn from a wider experience as well, and are well-written and considered. They generally end talking about the word's meaning in China today. It was a really interesting read, and I'd generally recommend it.
A Very Dangerous Woman: The Lives, Loves, and Lies of Russia's Most Seductive Spy by Deborah McDonald
As seems to frequently be the case, I think the author/publisher went a bit wild with the subtitle of this book. Maria (Moura) Budberg was born into an aristocratic Ukrainian family around 1891. She was very intelligent, reveled in being the center of attention, and was extremely charismatic, one of those people that others can't seem to help but like.
She certainly did some spying against Germany, set up as a bit of a double agent, during WWI, and did her share of whispering important tidbits down the line to the British throughout the years following the Russian revolution. However, facts about was she/wasn't she spying past the 1920s aren't really available. There was largely just an awful lot of rumor, some of which she created herself. Whatever hints we have, they are simply hints and there really isn't any hard evidence and there will likely never be any.
That being said, it was an interesting book because she was an interesting woman. While she destroyed all of her own papers, many letters she sent were kept and she was associated with many interesting people throughout her life, including Maxim Gorky and HG Wells. The book is well written and scrupulously end-noted. It took about a third of the way in to really grip me, but made for a good read.
Shadows of the Workhouse by Jennifer Worth
In this second memoir by the author of Call the Midwife, Worth focuses not on births but people met through her work whose lives were impacted by the Victorian workhouse system (relatively unchanged into the 20th century). These are individual tales, told at length. Some of them are so personal that I'm curious how Worth got these stories, but others she tells us. The only deviation from the workhouse theme is the story of Sister Monica Joan's petty thieving and the serious court case that came with it (pretty identical to how it's depicted in the TV show).
One of the few big changes from the books to the TV show is the story of Jane, a quiet, incredibly nervous person who worked in the convent/nurse's home. In the show it's changed pretty much out of all recognition to fit in with a story about homes for children and adults with mental and physical disabilities.
I'm grateful that Worth was a young person who valued these stories and was willing to listen, as there aren't very many records of workhouse life.
My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante
Sometimes seeing many reviews before reading helps me with my review, but in this case I think it's hindering me. I liked the book, but didn't love it (I'm not great with unlikable characters and the narrator and her brilliant friend are quite unlikable), which makes me feel slightly like an outsider.
I think I'd probably slate the idea of picking up the next book entirely, except that this one ended SO abruptly and Ferrante engaged me enough that I do want to know what happens to Lenu and Lila. The time and the place are interesting me more than those characters in some ways, and it feels like a realistic snapshot.
Ferrante has said that the four books making up this series should be considered as a single novel published serially, which I didn't realize at all before reading the book, and I think that is important to note. I don't know why I often rebel against reading multiple books by a single author in the same month, but I do internally find it troubling.
The Cracks in the Kingdom by Jaclyn Moriarty
I became devoted to Moriarty after reading her WONDERFUL and HILARIOUS YA novel-in-letters/faxes/notes on the fridge, Feeling Sorry for Celia, and that was cemented due to her excellent second novel The Year of Secret Assignments (UK/Australia title Finding Cassie Crazy, sorry, but the American title is so much better on that one). While I think she goes a bit too silly/magical realism-y in other works, I still love her books. I wasn't excited to read her YA full-on-fantasy books, but the first one dragged me in and was quite enjoyable.
This is the second book and it really had me in its grips! Moriarty has always excelled in getting me deeply invested in her characters and this is no different despite my low-level aversion to YA fantasy. Add to that, the fantasy world she created is quite original, which will always win my praise.
I'd start the third book immediately but it doesn't seem to be out in audio yet. The audio editions feature a few different readers and it's done very well. I want to read the last book so much that I went through the trouble of searching the author and sending her a message directly about the audiobook release date. QUITE NICE
Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin
I'd like to hold this review until my book club discusses the book, but I like my reviews to be in order, and probably my brain could use the exercise.
This is a classic of the LGBT genre, and considered one of the better portrayals of homosexuality of the period. Though I think we should stop saying that, because it mostly just makes you shake your head that THIS is the good portrayal that ends with misery and death, as most of them do. Given that gay characters (particularly women) are still being killed off TV and movies at a hugely alarming rate, it's even more frustrating.
I really enjoyed Baldwin's prose, but felt his dialogue writing was stilted and unnatural. Great dialogue writing is always difficult, and some issues with it stand out hugely when you're listening to an audio edition.
I don't have much to say about it, other than that I think the people putting the main character, David, in the bisexual camp are wrong. His encounters with women always spring from anxiety about the prevalent societal and cultural standards of masculinity and normalcy. Being able to get through a sexual encounter with your non-preferred gender is extremely common now, let alone in the 1950s when the pressure and rigid gender roles were much more intense, and does not negate identifying as gay.
The Colonel by Mahmoud Dowlatabadi
This was a interesting read, and a really well-written book. At times the magical realism moments, the narrator seeing the dead or people who aren't there or imagining whole scenes between others, were confusing, but I think overall it worked for me. Wikipeida says Dowlatabadi specifically never sought publication for the book in Iran due to political pressures, and Amazon says the book was banned in Iran but I think the former is correct. The book was written in the 1980s and not published in Germany until around 2009 (I believe). It was published in the US in 2012.
Set over the course of a single night but with many flashbacks, the colonel must bury his daughter who was tortured and killed by the current regime after the Islamic Revolution in Iran. One of the main themes is the murder and imprisonment of the leaders of change in Iran after a different group or movement takes charge. Dowlatabadi did this so well, though I know I'm not describing it well.
A very good read, and very skillfully written (and translated). VERY GOOD
Charity and Sylvia: A Same-Sex Marriage in Early America by Rachel Hope Cleves
This was a brilliant and refreshing read, just what I needed in all ways. It is positive, upbeat, and rigorously sourced. Charity and Sylvia moved in together, on their own, in the first decade of of the 19th century. They lived together for over forty years, and were integral parts of their town's life.
Dozens of nieces and nephews were named for the women, frequently Charity's family would name children after Sylvia and vice-versa Cleves fills in the detail and fills in why this was an unlikely turn of events (women were rarely able to set up households on their own, and unmarried women were frequently shuffled around between family members).
It's well written and I highly recommend it. BEST BOOK EVER
The Pharos Gate by Nick Bantock
This new volume in the Griffin and Sabine series fits right in between the two trilogies, filling in their journey to Alexandria.
I have perhaps lost most of the romantic idealism that I ever had, but I think it falls short of the original books and the emotion felt a little forced. I question whether the volume was really necessary, and I'm not convinced it adds to the series.
Unrelated to romanticism, while Griffin and Sabine are trying to elude Frolatti and his mystical agents, perhaps postcards are not the best form of correspondence... Likewise, how on earth is there enough time for the letters to reach them as they're both traveling towards each other. This world has a much more efficient system of mail delivery, apparently. Some of the details were less well-considered than in the originals as well, such as the type written letters. In the original books they're full of typos, adding to the realism (which is necessary in a fantastical series), but in this one they're perfect and in a less real-feeling typewriter font.
As usual, the art is absolutely beautiful, and the enchantment of opening the envelopes and pulling out the pages is lovely. For new readers maybe the extra volume is nice, and perhaps appreciated, though I rather assume the difficulty of receiving mail while on the go is part of why it wasn't done originally.
The Battle of Hastings: The Fall of Anglo-Saxon England by Harriet Harvey Wood
I've read a couple other books on the battle, including David Howarth's 1066: The Year of the Conquest. I found Wood's book to be superior in many ways, and it was a great read. Wood puts the Anglo-Saxon period into MUCH better focus, and the detail is fantastic without seeming dry.
Highly recommended to the history lover. The main focus is not the nitty gritty of the battle, though of course that's covered. GREAT
Chronicle in Stone by Ismail Kadare
After absolutely loving Kadare's The Siege, I had pretty high expectations for this one. It draws on Kadare's own childhood and sometimes verges into the surreal, which in some ways follows reality. The town is taken and lost back and forth between Italians, Greeks, Germans, etc... One group free the prisoners while the next rulers order the freed prisoners back into jail.
It has many comic notes, and many tragic ones, with the chapters alternating between a young boy's viewpoint and the formal tones of the town chronicler. It is a book which warrants a second reading, I think, in print for me as the audiobook reader was not good and impacted my enjoyment of the work. The translation history is a bit checkered, and one does feel that Kadare's including brief bits of Enver Hoxha (dictator of Albania from 1944-1985) towards the end was strictly a political move.
I'm certainly not done with Kadare though. A friend of mine is devoted to him, and I'll hopefully read Twilight of the Eastern Gods next. Kadare is such a good writer, and I'll be thinking about this one for a while.
Midaq Alley by Naguib Mahfouz
Mahfouz is one of my favorite authors, and this book in particular was recommended to me by a friend some time ago. Of course my library didn't have it, so I continued reading Mahfouz's other works. This past February I found an anthology of Mahfouz that included this book (also The Thief and the Dogs and Miramar).
One of the joys of reading many works by a single author is the fact that sometimes it takes a while to figure out why you enjoy their writing or pinpoint a specific skill. Of course it's difficult with works in translation, but I think Mahfouz is very gifted at writing his characters without judgement. Yet at the same I think he subtly lets us know when he disagrees with their behavior. The writing without judgement really shone in this one.
Midaq Alley is a poor area of Cairo, and our focus for the novel. Each chapter shifts focus to a different character making up a little microcosm. We follow them for some months, seeing their trials and tribulations. Mahfouz is an excellent character writer, with a very firm grasp on psychology. I believe many of his books also have a timeless quality, both in the sense of "this could have been written any time" but sometimes a sense of "this could be any time" as well (well, within a specific range of times).
Temples, Tombs, and Hieroglyphs: A Popular History of Ancient Egypt by Barbara Mertz
Barbara Mertz was a goddess among writers. I was trying to save this one for a rainy day, but I couldn't wait. She was brilliant and so incredibly funny. She's also rigorous about pointing out speculation and guesses and the various sides to various controversies among historians of ancient Egypt.
She was such a fun writer, and you can tell she was passionate about her subject. Yet didn't put it on a high pedestal and had no trouble adjusting to new information or accepting that we may never know certain things. She has her theories, of course, but she's incredibly upfront about them.
And again, she is funny! I laughed so much during this. NEW HISTORIAN CRUSH