A recent review by The Cleveland Plain Dealer's book editor, Karen Long, convinced me that Elizabeth Strout had a way with words. Maybe even something like my current favorite fiction diva, Barbara K. Although I wasn't interested in the plot of the reviewed book (Olive Kitterage - a collection of short stories), I went looking for another title by Strout, and found Amy and Isabelle. And I returned it to the library before I finished it!
That's pretty unusual for me. I'm still trying to get over the guilt. It wasn't a TOTAL disappointment. The characters were three-dimensional; the setting was well-drawn; the plot appealed to me. The problem was the pace - it crawled! Sigh. I'll work on patience...later.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Historical Fiction Worth Reading?
In my formative years, I could count on one hand the number of "historical fiction" titles I deemed worth reading. Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House series (totaling eleven? or twelve? books) and The Witch of Blackbird Pond made the list because they didn't seem like history lessons; they simply told great stories.
As I've typed before, I have enjoyed every page of Team of Rivals but *sigh* I'm still turning its pages.
Browsing the stacks in the library's teen section recently, I picked up The Girls They Left Behind and was hooked on the first page. The historical fiction in a diary format introduced me to the main character, code name Natalie (because "My real name is not fit to print"), who gave me a glimpse of what it was like to be a 17-year-old girl in Toronto in 1943.
What was it like? Well, teenagers are teenagers: Beryl/Natalie has crushes (and kisses!), fusses with her hair, is quite delighted to leave school for a high-paying job, and loves/hates her eight-year-old brother. But as a teenager on the home front in WWII, she also hates watching (just watching) most of her male friends go off to war; at the same time, she's embarrassed to be seen with Carl, who is of age but unable to enlist because he's deaf in one ear. She also hides to trade ration coupons (it's illegal!), hates the blackouts, and struggles with the emotions letters from the front - and worse, telegrams - bring.
Author Bernice Thurman Hunter died (in 2002) before she completed the book; her daughter, Heather Anne Hunter, finished the job. And well. From now on, any kid who tells me they don't like historical fiction will get one more recommendation...
As I've typed before, I have enjoyed every page of Team of Rivals but *sigh* I'm still turning its pages.
Browsing the stacks in the library's teen section recently, I picked up The Girls They Left Behind and was hooked on the first page. The historical fiction in a diary format introduced me to the main character, code name Natalie (because "My real name is not fit to print"), who gave me a glimpse of what it was like to be a 17-year-old girl in Toronto in 1943.
What was it like? Well, teenagers are teenagers: Beryl/Natalie has crushes (and kisses!), fusses with her hair, is quite delighted to leave school for a high-paying job, and loves/hates her eight-year-old brother. But as a teenager on the home front in WWII, she also hates watching (just watching) most of her male friends go off to war; at the same time, she's embarrassed to be seen with Carl, who is of age but unable to enlist because he's deaf in one ear. She also hides to trade ration coupons (it's illegal!), hates the blackouts, and struggles with the emotions letters from the front - and worse, telegrams - bring.
Author Bernice Thurman Hunter died (in 2002) before she completed the book; her daughter, Heather Anne Hunter, finished the job. And well. From now on, any kid who tells me they don't like historical fiction will get one more recommendation...
Monday, March 24, 2008
Saturday
Ian McEwan's 2005 novel, Saturday, follows a British neurosurgeon on a typical Saturday that in fact becomes extraordinary. I finished it last Saturday :)
I hate to admit this was the first of McEwan's books I've read, but it was. While I enjoyed it, I'm not going to rush out to pick up another title by the acclaimed author (whose Atonement was adapted to screen and is in theaters now).
Saturday is full of multi-layered characters, so richly drawn you feel you know them better than most people you know in your real life - and yet the description doesn't bog down the book.
Where I fault McEwan is plot - there wasn't much, frankly. (Yeah, I realize it's a book about a 24-hour period; how much did I expect, right?) It involves a plane crash, a traffic accident, a homecoming of sorts with his two grown children and cantankerous and eccentric father-in-law, and a nasty run in with a couple of thugs. I won't give away the ending, because to do so would spoil the reading...and it really is worth reading.
While I love the author's ruminations on how our minds work - tangled up in this book with the way the brain operates, and how it can be operated on - in a few instances, there's too much looking inward (and too little action) for my taste.
That said, McEwan can write. And he writes "up" to his readers - a compliment, I think, and a welcome change from the many MG/YA books I've devoured in the past year. By the time I reached page 36, the author had discussed neurosurgery (the removal of a pilocytic astrocytoma, among other cases), (the comet) Hale-Bopp, the psychology/philosophy of commercial plane travel, politics, and Schrodinger's cat.
It's heady stuff. Had he given me a bit more of a story, and I'd be hooked for good, lamenting the fact that McEwan has "only" given us 11 novels to date...
I hate to admit this was the first of McEwan's books I've read, but it was. While I enjoyed it, I'm not going to rush out to pick up another title by the acclaimed author (whose Atonement was adapted to screen and is in theaters now).
Saturday is full of multi-layered characters, so richly drawn you feel you know them better than most people you know in your real life - and yet the description doesn't bog down the book.
Where I fault McEwan is plot - there wasn't much, frankly. (Yeah, I realize it's a book about a 24-hour period; how much did I expect, right?) It involves a plane crash, a traffic accident, a homecoming of sorts with his two grown children and cantankerous and eccentric father-in-law, and a nasty run in with a couple of thugs. I won't give away the ending, because to do so would spoil the reading...and it really is worth reading.
While I love the author's ruminations on how our minds work - tangled up in this book with the way the brain operates, and how it can be operated on - in a few instances, there's too much looking inward (and too little action) for my taste.
That said, McEwan can write. And he writes "up" to his readers - a compliment, I think, and a welcome change from the many MG/YA books I've devoured in the past year. By the time I reached page 36, the author had discussed neurosurgery (the removal of a pilocytic astrocytoma, among other cases), (the comet) Hale-Bopp, the psychology/philosophy of commercial plane travel, politics, and Schrodinger's cat.
It's heady stuff. Had he given me a bit more of a story, and I'd be hooked for good, lamenting the fact that McEwan has "only" given us 11 novels to date...
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Oh, the Piles!
After my son used the wicker magazine rack as a step-stool a few too many times, I sighed and decided it had to go. (The rack, not the boy.)
Which means I had to face up to the fact that about two dozen magazines had been collecting dust inside the rack. Among the National Geographics and various science mags, some Design News and NASA Tech Briefs were tossed in for good measure. I'm almost caught up...sigh...almost. I love reading those mags, I really do. But I love reading a lot of stuff. A lot.
Like books by Barbara Kingsolver. I have to admit the one I just finished, The Prodigal Summer, has been my least favorite of the Kingsolvers I've read so for. Animal Dreams and Pigs in Heaven were so much more...um, immediate? raw? I'm not sure what descriptor I'm searching for... even The Bean Trees, which was published before Prodigal Summer and the much-acclaimed Poisonwood Bible, was more gripping.
That said, I can't quit the darned book, of course. BK has quite a way with words - and even more talent with characters.
Maybe someday she'll write about a lady who keeps magazines piled up in her living room, as surrogate stepping stools...
Which means I had to face up to the fact that about two dozen magazines had been collecting dust inside the rack. Among the National Geographics and various science mags, some Design News and NASA Tech Briefs were tossed in for good measure. I'm almost caught up...sigh...almost. I love reading those mags, I really do. But I love reading a lot of stuff. A lot.
Like books by Barbara Kingsolver. I have to admit the one I just finished, The Prodigal Summer, has been my least favorite of the Kingsolvers I've read so for. Animal Dreams and Pigs in Heaven were so much more...um, immediate? raw? I'm not sure what descriptor I'm searching for... even The Bean Trees, which was published before Prodigal Summer and the much-acclaimed Poisonwood Bible, was more gripping.
That said, I can't quit the darned book, of course. BK has quite a way with words - and even more talent with characters.
Maybe someday she'll write about a lady who keeps magazines piled up in her living room, as surrogate stepping stools...
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Boyproof? But is it plot proof?
I really enjoyed Cecil Castellucci's Boyproof, but I have to admit it wasn't the story (primarily about the internal conflict of a 16-year-old who "struggles" through her senior year in high school) but it was author Cecil Castellucci's skillfully-created characters that kept me from putting the book down halfway through.
Also, just as important (and in my experience, even more rare) Castellucci created just enough characters to populate and tell the story, with no "extras" added because the author needed them to make a point or introduce an idea/conflict.
I had Boyproof on my to-read list for two reasons
The story takes place in a pretty well-heeled Hollywood (CA) suburb, where the kids can choose to protest genetically-engineered food or try out to be an extra in an upcoming movie or TV show. It's a little bit trite, but then again, isn't that the definition of teen angst? Perhaps. (However you feel about that, the fact is the book resonates with a lot of teens.)
Victoria is "boyproof," according to her actress-mother, because she eschews all feminine clothing/makeup/hairstyles and instead prefers to dress like (the made-up-for-this-book) sci/fi movie character, Egg. What's more, Victoria insists friends call her "Egg."
Max Carter moves in and breaks Egg's shell (ha, ha) because he's as smart as she is, giving her some competition for the Valedictorian race, and because he's cute, too - making her think maybe "boyproof" isn't what she really wants to be.
As a mom, I'd be OK with my tween reading the book because it treats the confusion that comes about during adolescence seriously, but not too seriously. Also, the romantic interludes are just kisses (with some musings about groping) - there are no sex scenes.
I'd be interested to hear from readers on both sides of sci/fi fandom as to how the sci/fi elements worked in this book. While it certainly helps to have an understanding of sci/fi techniques (in books and on film), Boyproof is firmly rooted in reality - that is, a safe, suburban Hollywood, teenage version of reality.
(((a longer version of this review appears on the Epinions website, here)))
Also, just as important (and in my experience, even more rare) Castellucci created just enough characters to populate and tell the story, with no "extras" added because the author needed them to make a point or introduce an idea/conflict.
I had Boyproof on my to-read list for two reasons
- I wanted to compare the author's style in a novel vs. her first graphic novel, The Plain Janes , and
- Castellucci's writing has been used as an example of how to say a lot about a character in just a few words.
The story takes place in a pretty well-heeled Hollywood (CA) suburb, where the kids can choose to protest genetically-engineered food or try out to be an extra in an upcoming movie or TV show. It's a little bit trite, but then again, isn't that the definition of teen angst? Perhaps. (However you feel about that, the fact is the book resonates with a lot of teens.)
Victoria is "boyproof," according to her actress-mother, because she eschews all feminine clothing/makeup/hairstyles and instead prefers to dress like (the made-up-for-this-book) sci/fi movie character, Egg. What's more, Victoria insists friends call her "Egg."
Max Carter moves in and breaks Egg's shell (ha, ha) because he's as smart as she is, giving her some competition for the Valedictorian race, and because he's cute, too - making her think maybe "boyproof" isn't what she really wants to be.
As a mom, I'd be OK with my tween reading the book because it treats the confusion that comes about during adolescence seriously, but not too seriously. Also, the romantic interludes are just kisses (with some musings about groping) - there are no sex scenes.
I'd be interested to hear from readers on both sides of sci/fi fandom as to how the sci/fi elements worked in this book. While it certainly helps to have an understanding of sci/fi techniques (in books and on film), Boyproof is firmly rooted in reality - that is, a safe, suburban Hollywood, teenage version of reality.
(((a longer version of this review appears on the Epinions website, here)))
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Where credit is due
It just occurred to me that you may have read reviews somewhere else that sound a lot like the reviews posted here. Ahem. It's time for me to admit that sometimes I borrow whole paragraphs from reviews that I post at Epinions.com.
So yeah, some of this stuff has been published before... and I wrote it all. (In spite of some really ugly exceptions that make the news from time to time, plagiarism is something journalists don't take lightly, folks.)
One of the reasons I started blogging here, and posting reviews there (Epinions) was to create a sort of catalog of the books (and articles, and other stuff) that I read. So, while I'm still sorting out my place in cyberspace, I am not "borrowing" the opinions, words, or reviews of any other writers.
So yeah, some of this stuff has been published before... and I wrote it all. (In spite of some really ugly exceptions that make the news from time to time, plagiarism is something journalists don't take lightly, folks.)
One of the reasons I started blogging here, and posting reviews there (Epinions) was to create a sort of catalog of the books (and articles, and other stuff) that I read. So, while I'm still sorting out my place in cyberspace, I am not "borrowing" the opinions, words, or reviews of any other writers.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Better Than Most Political Bios
Write It When I'm Gone: Remarkable Off-the-Record Conversations with Gerald R. Ford is not chock-full of remarkable remarks by the 38th president of the United States, but it is a fitting tribute to the man, who I believe was one of the country's truly great statesmen.
Unfortunately, the writing was sloppier than I'd expected from Thomas DeFrank, a Newsweek and Daily News reporter. With the author's considerable experience and credentials, I was stunned to find redundancies and out-of-sequence segments in almost every chapter, pluse a few just plain grammatical gaffes. Why it was allowed to surf through copyediting at publisher (Putnam) may be because they wanted to hurry to market, but still... the oversights were disappointing. (On page 12 readers can marvel at the gem, "Usually, we never knew which.")
Grumblings aside, the book is worth reading for those who like a little - but not too much - political perspective.
I knew how the story would end, of course - Ford died in 2007 - but I found myself surprisingly sad as I read the final chapters. Grumblings aside, I believe this redeems DeFrank's writing. I'm pretty sure (that is, I sure hope!) DeFrank could've written a better quality book, overall, I'm glad he wrote this one.
Certainly, what readers take away regarding Mr. Ford is subject to individual interpretation. Personally, I gained a greater appreciation for the man who seems to have lived every day, and served many decades, according to an (unfortunately) uncommon set of principals - and I think that's worth slogging through a few sloppy paragraphs.
Unfortunately, the writing was sloppier than I'd expected from Thomas DeFrank, a Newsweek and Daily News reporter. With the author's considerable experience and credentials, I was stunned to find redundancies and out-of-sequence segments in almost every chapter, pluse a few just plain grammatical gaffes. Why it was allowed to surf through copyediting at publisher (Putnam) may be because they wanted to hurry to market, but still... the oversights were disappointing. (On page 12 readers can marvel at the gem, "Usually, we never knew which.")
Grumblings aside, the book is worth reading for those who like a little - but not too much - political perspective.
I knew how the story would end, of course - Ford died in 2007 - but I found myself surprisingly sad as I read the final chapters. Grumblings aside, I believe this redeems DeFrank's writing. I'm pretty sure (that is, I sure hope!) DeFrank could've written a better quality book, overall, I'm glad he wrote this one.
Certainly, what readers take away regarding Mr. Ford is subject to individual interpretation. Personally, I gained a greater appreciation for the man who seems to have lived every day, and served many decades, according to an (unfortunately) uncommon set of principals - and I think that's worth slogging through a few sloppy paragraphs.
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