Blythe's Book 9: Quiet Strength

Tony Dungy's memoir, Quiet Strength, has been sitting on our bookshelf since I bought it for Nate, oh say, two Christmases ago. Maybe more. I've always liked Tony Dungy, possibly in part because I felt so badly when the Bucs fired him after he turned that team around. Just had to get that off my chest. Anyway, I was a Bucs fan until they gave Tony the ol' heave-ho... then I followed him to Indy, and have been a Colts fan ever since, even though he retired. With the Super Bowl upon us, it seemed an ideal time to read about Dungy's life which, he is quick to stress, is all about God, and only partly about football. And added bonus for my reluctant reader of a husband, Nate now won't have to actually read the book, since I've been tagging along after him all week, peppering him with "Did you know..."s about Coach Dungy's life and coaching philosophy.

As is the case with many memoirs, it is the content of Quiet Strength that kept me interested-- not necessarily the writing style. Dungy does have a co-author, Nathan Whitaker, but the writing is definitely more focused on delivering a message, and recounting a life, than it is on inspiring anyone with deliberate word choices or vivid images. It didn't really matter, though; I loved this book. I loved hearing about the old Bucs players, from Warrick Dunn to Derrick Brooks, and learning more about the organization. I loved learning little tidbits about Dungy's youth, and about his own experiences as a college athlete and an NFL player. And, as was promised in the reviews at the front of the book, I was inspired by Dungy's faith and focus. Here's a guy who, when the average workday for an NFL coach is 15 hours, refuses to let anyone in his organization make work a substitute for home, often giving them nights and weekends off. Here's a guy who encouraged players and coaches to pick their children up from school and bring them to the office or training field. Here's a man who adopted three children and even after the suicide of his oldest son, refused to question his role as a father or Christian. Tony Dungy had a million excuses to let go of his faith or to neglect his family given the career path he chose-- yet he has always made family and faith his top priorities. And he's quick to point out that there are plenty of men in the NFL who have made the same choices he has, from Derrick Brooks who buys homes for single mothers to Donnie Shell who held him accountable as a Christian when he was a rookie NFL player in the Steelers' organization. Where the media's quick to point out the eccentricities and poor decision-making of football players and coaches, Tony Dungy's memoir showed me how loyal, thoughtful and generous many of these men are. In some ways, reading this refocused me, making me reflect on my own goals and methods for accomplishing them. Dungy stresses that pointing fingers and getting angry very seldom solve a problem. He's big on responsibility and short on excuses, and emphasizes the importance of a positive attitude and commitment to personal excellence in every endeavor. If I'd been in the wrong frame of mind, I might have felt like this book was a bit hokey, but as it was, I'm walking away from it with a lot to think about, and an even greater respect for Tony Dungy.

Pam's Book 6: The Sweetness of the Bottom of the Pie

I confess: I love murder mysteries. Especially of the old school British variety. It all started with an Agatha Christie when I was around ten, and it's been all over since. I came across The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie in a literary review. It looked promising, so I got it from the library, and it met, if not exceeded, expectations. It had all the elements of a classic British murder mystery: a brilliant if off-beat heroine, the murder of a shady character (it wouldn't be good form to kill somebody we might like), red herrings, brilliant deductions, a suspenseful confrontation between the heroine and murderer, a happy ending, and some dry humor.

Flavia, an eleven-year-old amateur chemist, stumbles across a dying man in the cucumber patch. He whispers, "Vale," and expires. An adventure ensues, in which Flavia does her best to outwit the police and beat them to the identity of the murderer. She has to delve deep into her father's past and the lore of philately in order to identify the dead man and unmask his murderer, as well clear her father's name (he shouldered part of the blame in a past tragedy, both in his own mind and those involved in the unfortunate event).

The book was amusing, engaging, and well written. There were a number of quirky characters, a bit bizarre but believably drawn. The events flowed well. Flavia was plucky and brilliant, yet had failings common to preteen younger sisters. This book did not change my life. It is not a literary masterpiece. But I enjoyed the reading of it immensely. And I will recommend it to my friend Trish, which is the ultimate litmus test for any mystery.

Blythe's Book 8: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

"'I used to think the world was broken down by tribes . . . By black and white. By Indian and white. But I know that isn't true. The world is only broken into two tribes: The people who are assholes and the people who are not.'"
- Arnold "Junior" Spirit

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian follows the story of a young Spokane Indian who lives on a reservation but chooses to attend high school at the all-white Rearden High. On the "rez," he is Junior; at Rearden, he is Arnold. This duality spreads into each part of his life, making him an outcast in both the white world and the Indian one. At its heart, TATDoaPTI is about a kid experiencing what all kids experience: heartbreak, hormones, and a hell of a lot of insecurity. Junior loses his best friend, the approval of his tribe (although he has always been an outcast among them in some ways), and his identity as an Indian as he increasingly turns to the white world to find success and fulfillment. Junior finds comfort in his cartoons (artist Ellen Forney's drawings pop up throughout the book), his relationship with his parents, and in the friendships he starts to form outside of the rez. However, his is still a world full of conflict, guilt and tough decisions.




Sherman Alexie wrote this book for a young adult audience, and I think he's created a character and a storyline that really mirror the teen experience. I laughed at times, like when Junior admits he's good at masturbating (his defense is, "if God hadn't wanted us to masturbate, then God wouldn't have given us thumbs") and I almost cried at others, like when even his best friend, Rowdy, more or less abandons him as a "white lover" (see picture above). Any reader can empathize with the trials that Arnold faces, from being considered a little too "gay" because he's emotionally sensitive and artsy to trying to hide his poverty from his white friends, and his expanding world from his tribemates. White, black, or any shade in between, we've all had to hide our differences from others, either from fear of invoking their jealousy or their ridicule. However, the bonus is that here, rather than just confirming what we already know about adolescence, Alexie also teaches readers about life on the reservation-- the poverty, the overwhelming alcoholism, the limited opportunities for growth. I've never known much about reservations, but this book gave me a feel for what it must be like to grow up in a place where you and everyone you know always seems to have less than the rest of society.

This novel suggests that Indians have become great at coping, but less able to fight back: "'I realized that, sure, Indians were drunk and sad and displaced and crazy and mean, but, dang, we knew how to laugh.'" Unfortunately, the laughing never changes anything, and the drinking seems to outweigh every other action 5 to 1. Alexie doesn't solely criticize life on the rez; he also reminds readers that there is a huge gap in understanding between whites and Indians, and that white people have their share of issues too. Ultimately, what Junior learns and what I took away as well is that we all have a whole slew of problems, but we also have unlimited potential; there is a warrior in each of us that can only be realized if we own up to who we are and refuse to settle for anything less than what we truly desire.

Pam's Book 5: A Clockwork Orange

This book has been sitting on my bookshelf for years. It's sat on my bookshelf in Rockville, MD, two bookshelves in Melbourne, FL, and one in Merritt Island. Every time I browsed my shelves for reading material, I deliberately bypassed A Clockwork Orange. I expected it to be dense, hard to get through, graphically violent, and, most of all, impossible to understand as a result of the invented slang. The book met none of these expectations. I'd heard that you couldn't get through A Clockwork Orange without a lexicon because so much of the language was completely fabricated by Burgess. I wish I could remember specifically who told me this so I could inform them what dumbasses they are. Yes, many of the words were unrecognizable; however, Burgess always threw in plenty of context clues. He says in the preface to this particular edition that the purpose of the language was "to muffle the raw response we expect from pornography" and that it "turns the book into a linguistic adventure." I found both to be true. "The old in-out-in-out" is certainly less harsh than "rape" (although more graphic, if you think about it). I enjoyed learning this new lingo, and the pleasure of discovering what the words meant. Sometimes the meaning was immediately obvious; sometimes it took several uses. But you were never left completely hanging.

I disliked the main character in American Wife because of her moral ambiguity; I empathized with the main character of A Clockwork Orange in spite of his moral turpitude. Alex is a terrible person, an utter sociopath who takes extreme pleasure in committing, viewing, and fantasizing about violence. Even qualities that should, ordinarily would, be redeeming, like his passion for great classical music, are not. While lying in bed listening to "Ludwig van," Alex narrates his thoughts and actions as follows:
"...and then the human male goloss coming in and telling them all to be joyful, and then the lovely blissful tune all about Joy being a glorious spark like of heaven, and then I felt the old tigers leap in me and then I leapt on those two young ptistas." He then proceeds to rape the two young girls.

Yet I somehow connected to Alex. I didn't want him to get arrested, I didn't want him to be tortured, I didn't want him to be recognized for what he was. I rejoiced in his redemption in the 21st chapter that was left out of the original American edition and Stanley Kubrick film (all of this is in the preface by the author, so I don't feel bad mentioning it here), yet I would also have been just as happy had the book ended as it did originally here in the States.

Some philosophical musings from the book:

"But, brothers, this biting of their toenails over what is the cause of badness is what turns me into a fine laughing malchick. They don't go into the cause of goodness, so why of the other shop? If lewdies are good, that's because they like it, and I wouldn't ever interfere with their pleasures, and so of the other shop. And I was patronizing the other shop."

"Choice... He has no real choice, has he? Self-interest, fear of physical pain, drove him to that grotesque act of self-abasement. Its insincerity was clearly to be seen. He ceases to be a wrongdoer. He ceases also to be a creature capable of moral choice."

V's Pick #5: The Romantics by Galt Niederhoffer

I think it was Erin who mentioned picking books by their cover and I must admit, I do the same. With this one, the fake tape on the cover lured me in...as did reading about rich New Englanders and their Ivy League problems. After reading the back I knew I was taking a chance on this being a totally useless chick lit book but Nierderhoffer is a big-time indie movie producer and I figured at her pen, it at least would have some redeeming, if not wholly good, moments.

For that, I wasn't disappointed. The writing is a step above your standard chick book, but honestly, it hid stride near the middle and went predictably downhill from there. Toward the end I was dealing with lines like:

"But of course, the spectrum has no measure for the greatest of all carnal sins, the kind that occurs before skin touches skin, before wondering turns to yearning, yearning to having, having to holding for dear life, when two people cling to each other so desperately that even when they lie, inches apart, neither is fully satisfied until the light between them turns to darkness" (228)

and "love is an ocean" (277).

Granted, the title is The Romantics but still…even as a poet and a former Lit Major, this book was like trying to swallow cough syrup in its final pages.

All that aside, it did provide a clear break from the world of Vonnegut and wrapped me up in its pages for two days. I think I kept waiting for the turn, expecting an independent movie twist, which sadly, never came.

I then discovered it's to be a movie, coming out later this year, with Liv Tyler, Katie Holmes, etc. I'll probably see it, just because...but if you're curious, I'd say save your time and for once, don't read the book prior.

Erin's Book #5: Wishin' and Hopin' by Wally Lamb

Like several other readers on this blog, I'm a big Wally Lamb fan. I requested this book from the library ages ago, but it just came in. It's a Christmas book, so the delay was a little annoying, but oh well.

Lamb usually tackles pretty heavy material (Columbine, obesity, depression, dsysfunction...), so Wishin' and Hopin' represents a drastic change. Reminiscent of A Christmas Story in tone, this book is a harmless, delightful tribute to family and growing up in the 1960s.

Our narrator is 10 year old Felix Funicello, third cousin to Annette Funicello, a fact of which the entire family is immensely proud. Lamb proves as adept at writing as a child as he does writing as anyone else; Felix often speaks in a kind of tangential, stream of consciousness style, diverting along whatever paths strike him. He is fresh, honest, and innocent.

Wishin' and Hopin' isn't super plot driven - it follows Felix, his family, and his parochial school through one fall and winter. Along the way, we encounter an exotic, "salty" Russian student, Zhenya, Felix's arch enemy, Rosalie, a dramatic French-Canadian substitute teacher, several TV appearances, and various misadventures. It's a light read (2 days for me) - refreshing, nostalgic, and whimsical.

Erin's Book #4: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Blythe left this book with me when she visited Chicago last summer. She hadn't been too enthused about it, so I as a result hadn't been too enthused to read it. But it seemed like a quick read (and I'm eager to rack up some books to make room for my upcoming read - John Irving's Last Night in Twisted River, which looks hefty).

If it hadn't been for this blog, I would have given up on this book during the first part. I was bored to death. Guernsey is written entirely in letters, between an author, Juliet Ashton, and her publisher, her friend, and her new penpals - the members of the society of the title. What begins as a correspondence centered around the search for a particular book becomes a friendship and a study of the love of books, set during World War II. Juliet is intrigued by the society and begins corresponding with all of their members. I found the format dull, too loosely plotted and not revealing enough.

The second part is infinitely better. Things are actually happening and the book centers more on relationships. The letter format worked much better for me here. There's a lot of talk throughout about how great books are, which I found drab, but the aspects of the war were quite interesting.
The island of Guernsey was occupied by the Germans, which led to the creation of the society. Reading the characters' perspectives on the occupation and how they sacrificed, suffered, and coped was fascinating.

The ending is incredibly predictable, but satisfying. I still don't quite know if I liked this book, but once I got past the boring first part, it was enjoyable enough.

Pam's Book 4: This Is Where I Leave You

Leo Tolstoy said, "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." Jonathan Tropper writes excellent novels about unhappy families. They might never join the annals of great literature, but they are highly entertaining reads and full of insights into both the family dynamic and the individual human nature. I won't spend too long discussing this book because Blythe has already done so.

The book is about a man whose father has just died and whose wife has just left him. Not the happiest time in Judd's life. Judd, along with his three siblings, travels to his hometown to sit shiva for his father. Throughout the week, the family works through some of their problems, yet at the end they still have basically the same relationships they started out with. Have some grievances been aired and dissected? Sure. Has some progress been made. Definitely. Are all relationships fully functional. Of course not. Which is what's nice about Tropper's books. He realizes that there is no magic cure relationships that have been screwed up for thirty years, yet he does offer hope for improvement.

This Is Where I Leave You ends somewhat ambiguously, but, as I said, with hope. What comes before is both highly entertaining and highly moving. It was a great follow-up to my last book: light and fun with fully developed characters. Short, too. Definitely a great read; definitely an author I will continue to read.

V's Pick #4: Slapstick by Kurt Vonnegut

This is a book about family. By that I mean: incest, war, disease, deformation, drugs, wealth, middle names, The Chinese, loneliness, gravity, twins, Indianapolis and candlesticks.

This is my third Vonnegut book and it's by far, the most totally and wholly messed up novel I've ever read. I enjoyed every minute of it, finishing cover-to-cover, in less than 24 hours. It's the tale of The King of Manhattan (the last president of the United States) who is over 100 years old as he writes his memoir. He was born grossly deformed and shunned to a giant mansion in Vermont on the grounds of an apple orchard with this twin sister, Eliza. They share a touch-senstive mental connection which results in their inappropriate physical awareness of each other on multiple occasions. Until the age of 15, they are richly dressed by a colony of workers hired by their parents to care for them and in order to remain in their paradise, they pretend to be mentally retarded while secretly, their brains combined equal some form of genius. Their union is part Adam and Eve and thus the story of their "love" is doused with metaphor of The Fall. Upon the end of their secret, they face the most devastating of fates: separation.

Vonnegut writes in the Prologue that he thought of this novel on a place ride to Indianapolis with his scientist brother, an empty seat between them holding the NY Times which should have held their deceased sister, Alice. He gives meaning to the characters before they're introduced but as I read, I thought he was wrong. Who he said equalled what for him in the novel doesn't seem correct to me. Rather, I feel, he wrote this novel as a eulogy for his sister - an effort to exorcise the emptiness of being lonesome for someone. He says of Alice: "She was the secret of my technique. Any creation which has any wholeness and harmoniousness, I suspect, was made by an artist or inventor with an audience of one in mind."

My favorite line from the novel is as follows: "Perhaps I am the turtle, able to live simply anywhere, even underwater for short periods, with my home on my back."

So, say what he may about his reasons for writing it, but Slapstick (alternatively titled Lonesome No More) is a novel about grief. It's a novel about an old man looking back on his life and those who he's outlived, feeling somewhat guilty and somewhat glad. How does a deformed man of average intelligence become a Harvard graduate, the King of Manhattan, rename the entire country and make families out of strangers? He does it because he's lonely for someone. And like all Vonnegut I've read, that old man writes it in a tone that presents both hopelessness and true, amazingly deep, hopefulness.

It will be a long time before I forget this book...and Alice should be proud of her brother, for such a display of disgustingly beautiful grief in her wake. RIP, "Betty and Bobby Brown."

Blythe's Book 7: The Elegance of the Hedgehog

The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery was so bittersweet... and it's funny that I'm compelled to use an oxymoron to describe the novel, because it is about just that-- odd juxtapositions in life, and how they are what we ultimately derive pleasure and meaning from. While the exterior storyline is about a French concierge, Madame Michel, who has barred herself from the judgment of her rich tenants by acting like an unassuming imbecile only to eventually find happiness within her home (I know that's vague, but I don't want to give anything away!), the real essence of this novel is in examining the contradictions in our lives: art and ugliness, beauty and death, movement and stillness, poverty and wealth. As the two main characters, Madame Michel and her young neighbor, Paloma, each struggle to find meaning in their lives, they confront these opposites, only to eventually conclude that perhaps they are entwined in irrefutable ways.

I almost put this book down about 2,000 times. It is a short(er) read-- only 325 pages-- but the first 200 are PAINFUL. Leave it to the French to write a novel that is 75% philosophical babble... I kept thinking, "Must. Have. Storyline somewhere!!" In spite of this, I stuck it out because I just knew it was going to get better. How did I know? Two of my close friends, Pam and Trish, recommended the book and they don't tend to have similar taste, so I figured if they BOTH liked it, then something good had to be around the corner. And it was. Good, challenging, beautiful, heartbreaking. Madame Michel has settled for so little-- has shrunk her life so much because of what she thinks is expected of her-- that when she finally shows the slightest bit of trust, your heart just melts. Cheesy, but true. And I will admit, I even found myself ruminating on one or two of Barbery's philosophical musings-- so the first 200 pages weren't a total wash :)

Some of my favorite passages:

"For the first time, I feel utterly trusting, even though I am not alone. Even with Manuela, to whom I would gladly entrust my life, I do not have this feeling of absolute security that comes when one is sure that understanding is mutual. Entrusting one's life is not the same as opening up one's soul, and although I love Manuela like a sister, I cannot share with her the things that constitute the tiny portion of meaning and emotion that my incongruous existence has stolen from the universe" (224).

"Day after day we pace up and down our life the way we pace up and down a passageway" (232).

"If you have but one friend, make sure you choose her well" (263).

V's Pick #3: The Best American Poetry 2009 edited by David Lehman

I usually try to read this collection every year, but I'm very glad I did this year as it's stuffed full of poets such as Billy Collins (who I've seen read twice), Barbara Hamby (from my alma mater - FSU), Marty Doty (gay man poet crush), Sharon Olds (ahh-mazing), Mary Oliver (one of my favorite memoir poets), Andrienne Rich, Derek Walcott and Charles Harper Webb.

If you're interested in a dose of new and old, don't miss:

"Ringtone" by Bruce Bond


"How It Will End" by Denise Duhamel


"The Record" by Jennifer Grotz


"Mum's the word" by Bob Hicok


"How to Be Eaten by a Lion" by Michael Johnson


"What I Think of Death, If Anyone's Asking" by Maud Kelly (my favorite of the collection)


"Sweat" by Christine Marshall


"The Inset Collector's Demise" by Jude Nutter


"Self-Exam" by Sharon Olds


"Turn" by Keith Ratzlaff


"Love" by Martha Silano


"Forty" by Pamela Sutton


"I shall be released" by Kevin Young

V's Pick #2: Generation A by Douglas Coupland

The only other Coupland I've read was Life After God (which is a basically a letter to his daughter about the risks of a world without God and finding beauty in life). I remember liking it, but obviously not enough to read anything else from his prolific life's work until now. Generation A is a book I truly couldn't put down. I read the first 200 pages in one sitting and enjoyed every delicious minute of it. As the characters are introduced, there's this pitch-perfect cadence that's masterfully upset by a random monkey-wrench fact or detail...and you just KNOW Coupland has something up his sleeve that other writers only dream of being able to do to a reader. When a writer owns me like that, I'm in love.

Generation A takes place in the near future, a future where bees haven't existed for about 6 years...or so it is thought...until 5 people in 5 different places on Earth get stung around the same time. Immediately, I wished I'd seen The Happening because I thought maybe the premise was similar, but once the scientific mayhem started to unfold, I stopped caring - I'd heard that movie wasn't very good anyway and I'm pretty sure if it is the same premise, Coupland blew M. Night out of the hive anyway. There's a lot of reverie about flowers, pollination, plants, etc. Imagine trying to make an apple strudel in a world without bees...imagine a woman in high-heels and an apron in her front yard "self pollinating" her few dying plants. It's all in there - a postmodern glimpse into what may come... Throw in a dose of a drug called Solon which makes people want to be solitary and you've got my version of a society-hell.

Harj is a call center employee in Sri Lanka who lost his family to a tsunami. Zach is a dead-beat midwestern playboy with a rich uncle, a family history of drug use and a job involving soft-core porn and corn fields. Samantha is a 30-something single woman from New Zealand who's learned to not expect much. Julien is a young student from Paris who's stopped attending classes to hate the world and play WOW. Diana is a Canadian with Tourettes, a crush on a married cult-leader and a life that, up until the sting, no one would envy. She prays a lot and loves dental hygiene.

The story is told a chapter a piece by each character, but unlike some writers, Coupland doesn't do the per-character backward story-telling - he moves the prose along magically from one voice to the next. As these dynamic and incredibly real characters meander through their worlds turned upside down by bees, science and story-telling, you know they're on the brink of something that you cannot see coming. I won't give away the end, but I consider myself a pretty good critical reader and I was shocked.

A sample: "I caught a ride home with a Mexican who made me sing mariachi songs. The bed of his truck was filled with bags of onions."

Interesting side-note, I finished this book on Thursday night and yesterday on my commute home from Orlando, I heard about this on NPR. Coupland as fortune-teller?

Erin's Book #3: Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen

I have a confession to make. I completely and totally judge books based on their cover. Not just judge, but select. I do at least double check the rating on Amazon, but as long as it's at least a 3.5 of 4, I will read it if I like the cover. I don't always even read the summary to know what it's about it.

So I bought Water for Elephants, having no clue what it was about. Blythe mentioned to me that it was very well-researched, which actually made me less enthused to read it. But I'm really glad that I did.

Water for Elephants follows a traveling, Ringling-wannabe circus around America. The main character is Jacob Jankowski, a veterinary school dropout who ends up aboard the circus train. Occasionally, the book switches to Jacob in present-day, as a 90 (or 93, he can't remember) year old man in a nursing home. While the present day material served to ground some of the more bizarre occurrences of the circus world, for me it most often detracted from the story and I was irritated to have to spend time away from the fascinating circus.

Jacob quickly falls in love with the beautiful Marlena, a performer in the circus who is married to the alternately charming and evil equestrian leader. Their story is compelling, but the real magic of the book lies in the circus itself. Elephants is incredibly well-researched (and includes photos from circuses in their heyday), with many of the plot points based on actual events. I've never really cared for circuses and didn't think I was particularly interested in them, but this book revealed an engrossing and fascinating world. The filth, the animals, the acts, the class system between performers and workers, all of it is told in rich detail to make for a completely riveting read.

I couldn't put this book down; I was addicted to it. I read it in 3 days, the last half in one sitting. It's a beautiful tale of a strange world.

Pam's Book 3: The Children's Book

My first A.S. Byatt book was, of course, Possession. I was going to Europe for three weeks and needed one book that was long enough and dense enough to keep me going for nearly three weeks. I came across it in the library, but ended up deciding that a paperback was the way to go. I found the book fascinating, was caught up in the romance and the mystery. The next summer, when I returned to Europe, I decided to make a tradition out of reading Byatt and purchased The Virgin in the Garden for the occasion. The only mystery in that book was why I continued to read it. Every day my fellow traveler Felicia would ask, "Have you figured out what it's about yet?" Finally, on the plane ride home, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, I shook her awake. "Felicia, I finished the book." "Have you figured out what it's about yet?" "No."

The Children's Book, on an enjoyment level, fell somewhere between the other two. I feel that at 675 densely packed pages, it was a tad bit long. The story begins in Victorian England like many a good Victorian story: with two boys discovering a third, a talented yet penniless runaway hiding in the basement of what would later become the Victoria and Albert Museum. The runaway, Philip, is of course taken under the wing of the mother of one of his rescuers. He is a skilled artist and wants nothing more than to make beautiful pots. Later Philip is taken in by a temperamental master potter. Yet the story isn't really about Philip, although he makes regular appearances throughout the book, even up to the last page. The story is about Philip and the Fludds (the potter's family), the Wellwoods (two sets), the Cains, the Sterns. The elder family members are ardent political dissidents. One child (of course the unexpected child) follows in their footsteps. While the families are all interconnected (in more ways than we suspect at the beginning), each child, in the end, seems like he should belong to a different family, including the dissident child. Several die in the last fifty pages during World War I.

At first, reflecting on the book, I thought I was disappointed in the lack of strong woman characters. Then I realized that none of the characters was very strongly drawn. This is a book driven by characters, as there is only a faint thread of meandering plot. Yet, very characters seemed very three-dimensional. They all have a wispiness to them. I can't help but wonder, though, whether that might have been intentional. A recurring motif in the book is that of a fairyland, an "other" world, somehow connected to our own and accessed by some kind of magical portal. Characters in fairy tales are most definitely not realistically drawn. Did Byatt have the same idea here? I can't make up my mind.

This is a book of secrets, kept dark in the fairyland, regularly brought out into the light, only to be hidden again and acknowledged later. Some of the secrets are utterly dull and banal; some hold more interest. Sometimes the characters act as expected; some do not. Mothers hide them selves away, whether in stories, drugs, or society. Fathers become alternately sexually abusive and then loving. Or not. Two characters commit suicide. In the exact same way. Which annoyed me.

I think this will be my last A.S. Byatt book.

DeMerse's Book #1: Geek Love

Geek Love is the story of the Binewski family. Al Binewski inherited his family’s traveling carnival at age 24 and within a few years its popularity began to fade. The idea to save the carnival came to Al while visiting the Rose Garden in Portland, OR. He realized, like the roses in the test garden, that children could be designed. So, he and his wife, Crystal Lil, experimented with illicit and prescription drugs, insecticides, and even radioisotopes during her pregnancies. Papa’s ‘roses’ were Arturo (Arty), who had flippers for hands and feet; Electra (Elly) and Iphigenia (Iphy), the Siamese twins; Olympia (Oly), the albino hunchback dwarf; and Fortunato (Chick), the telekinetic baby with no physical deformities.

Oly is the narrator of the novel and the majority of the story is set during her childhood. It describes her familial relationships as well as those between the Binewskis and the ‘norms’. When Oly asks Arty if reading scared him he replied “These are written by norms to scare norms. And do you know what the monsters and demons and rancid spirits are? Us, that’s what. You and me. We are the things that come to the norms in nightmares. The thing that lurks in the bell tower and bites out the throats of the choirboys—that’s you. And the thing in the closet that makes the babies scream in the dark before it sucks their last breath—that’s me.” Although Oly narrates the story I would argue that Arty is the main character. Over time he takes control of the carnival and manages to manipulate just about everyone he comes in contact with. Even those who see his dark side are still enamored and loyal. This explains how he ends up starting his own cult.

The rest of the story occurs in Oly’s mid to late 30’s. She lives in the same building as her mother and daughter yet neither know that she is anything more than a neighbor - Crystal Lil because she’s lost her mind and Miranda because she was raised by nuns and never knew who her birth mother was. I liked these later years but didn’t like the fact that they were interspersed throughout the novel…I’m not a big fan of hopping back and forth unless it adds to the overall story and I don’t feel that this did.

Geek Love took me longer to read due to my frequent closing of the book and cringing, but I was compelled to continue - with the amputations, murder, topless dancing, and lobotomies - I wanted to know what was going to happen next! Unfortunately I was a bit disappointed in both the ending of the carnival and the book’s ending. When the carnival closed Oly was forced into a world of houses without wheels and explanations. Her answer to the what-the-hell-happened-to-you-looks was "My father and mother designed me this way" and she was proud if it. All of the 'freaks' were proud to be original instead of normal but never really seemed happy. None of them had normal romantic relationships. Iphy explained that "it's OK for me to love a norm like that. But if he comes to loving me it's because I've twisted him and changed him. If he loves me he's corrupted. I can't love him anymore."

Geek Love was both engaging and deeply disturbing. It had me disgusted, envious, frustrated, and sad all at the same time. I just finished last night and I'm still not sure if I feel relieved that it's over or bereaved.

Blythe's Book 6: What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running seems like the type of title that suggests there may be an inside joke or a deeper meaning hidden within the novel. However, if you read this book, you will not eventually reach an "Aha! That's how the title fits in!" kind of moment. It really and truly is a book about running. Haruki Murakami is a world famous author (I'm not exaggerating) who typically writes quirky, intellectual novels. Here he takes a break from novel writing, however, to share his thoughts on long-distance running, which he has been engaging in for twenty-odd years. His topics on running run from why he does it and what the process entails to how this makes him a better writer.

So, by now, most people who know me (well or even slightly) will be wondering WHY on earth I, of all people, chose to read this book. I have never been a runner or even athletic. However, my friend and fellow blogger, Pam, and I have been on a long and somewhat sporadic mission to "get in shape" (only offput by my frequent binges into Chinese food and Q'doba and my inherently slovenly nature). Trying to become runners has been an integral part of our regime. I use the term "runners" loosely-- at best, we are joggers; at worst, the term "plodders" comes to mind, in my case especially. When Pam saw this book on a website, she knew it would be a good Christmas present, as it involved two of our common interests: Murakami and running.

So here I am, I've read a book about runnning, and actually enjoyed it. Stranger things have NOT happened. Turns out that what I like best about Murakami's nonfiction is also what I like best about his novels. He writes like someone who has just entered a new world and is blinking, slowly taking it all in, amazed and a bit overwhelmed. There's this certain formality and self-effacement he possesses that I have come to link with the Japanese in general. I went to Japan this past summer and found the people to be the most humble and modest I've ever met. Murakami is much like this; he is always downplaying his successes and accepting rudeness in others. For instance, when he is repeatedly kicked, intentionally, before a triathlon, he says this must be expected. No anger or resentment; just acceptance. When he accomplishes just about anything, he feels relief or appreciation-- never self-pride.

What I came to learn about Murakami through his memoir is that he is a workhorse, obsessed with whatever he takes on, singular in purpose, and extremely gracious towards others. Aboce all else, he seems to value focus, patience, and endurance. He is first a bar owner, then a novelist, then a long-distance runner, then a translator and lecturer and a triathlete. He never starts with a coach or a class, instead preferring to do something on his own first, learning by trial through fire, and continuing simply because he has decided to.

If you've never read Murakami, but are interested in giving him a try, I wouldn't necessarily recommend this to start out with (unless it is the topic, not the writer, that you are interested in). His most popular works are probably Kafka on the Shore, Norwegian Wood, and The Wind-up Bird Chronicle-- all good samples of his work.

I've decided to share some favorite tidbits:
- On why it's better not to be stick-thin (which could suggest healthiness even if the person is not): "Some of my readers may be the kind of people who easily gain weight, but the only way to understand what's really fair is to take a long-range view of things. . . I think this physical nuisance [being heavy] should be viewed in a positive way, as a blessing. We should consider ourselves lucky that the red light is so clearly visible" (42).

- After finishing his first marathon: "I sit at a cafe in the village and gulp down cold Amstel beer. It tastes fantastic, but not nearly as great as the beer I'd been imagining as I ran. Nothing in the real world is as beautiful as the illusions of a person about to lose consciousness" (66).

- On follow-through: "If I used being busy as an excuse not to run, I'd never run again. I have only a few reasons to keep on running, and a truckload of them to quit. All I can do is keep those few reasons nicely polished" (73).


I almost feel like lacing up and going out for a jog-- and there are few books that can inspire such a reaction in this gal.

Erin's Book #2: The Middle Place by Kelly Corrigan

Trying to select my second book to read, I laid out a stack of contenders and asked my boyfriend for help. He suggested I select the one that would be the most uplifting and inspiring to help get the new year off to a good start. I chose a memoir about cancer, which may seem like an odd choice, but hey, there's a small girl in a yellow dress jumping on the cover!

I think it was the perfect choice. I. Loved. This. Book. Kelly Corrigan takes us through her journey with breast cancer, beginning with discovering a lump while bathing with her two young daughters. She also interweaves stories of growing up amongst her big, devoted family, from her earliest memories to meeting her husband.

Although death weighs heavily over the entire book, The Middle Place is an uplifting, emotional story. The title refers to the place between childhood and parenthood, being both a mother and a daughter, and the inevitable growing up. This book is ultimately about the people in our lives that make our lives what they are. I wanted to be a Corrigan, but this book also made me so grateful for my own family and friends. I laughed, I cried, I wanted to call my parents and hug my boyfriend repeatedly.

Corrigan's writing is vivid, beautiful, and honest, whether she's describing a high school fight with her mom over a pair of Guess jeans or shaving her head to protect her daughters from watching her slowly lose her hair. Obviously, stories like this make you grateful for your health, but they also help you appreciate the small things in life that make it worth living, the little moments with the people you love.

Blythe's Book 5: Lime Tree Can't Bear Orange

Lime Tree Can't Bear Orange (from here on referred to as LTCBO) is the story of Celia D'abadie, a Tobagan (is that even a word??) raised by her kind but naive aunt. Celia leaves Tobago for Trinidad after being raped, and there finds herself employed by the kind Dr. Emanuel Rodriguez, who later seduces her. It may feel like I'm giving away too much of the plot, but very little comes in this novel that you couldn't predict as soon as a character is introduced. You know Celia's uncle is no good; you know Dr. Rodriguez will eventually seduce her; you know the lovestruck gardener, William, will never be enough for our complicated heroine.

At first this bothered me-- the prose is beautiful, as are the descriptions of the lush (and at this time highly coveted as I'm freezing my wimpy Floridian ass off) tropics of Trinidad and Tobago-- but the story is just so danged predictable. However,after finishing the novel I was hit with a revelation. Amanda Smyth, the author of LTCBO, repeatedly stresses throughout the novel that we don't determine our own life, we simply follow the path that has been laid before us. Celia is told almost this exact thing by one of the secondary characters, Joseph Carr Brown: "I believe you follow your life, Celia. You don't lead your life. It's a mistake people make. We're not that powerful or important" (99). Even earlier in the novel, Celia runs across a soothsayer, Mrs. Jeremiah, who tells her that the path she will follow is a predetermined and hard one. This is not a prediction in Celia's eyes-- as it comes from the mouth of Mrs. Jeremiah, it is taken as truth. Smyth seemed to incorporate this same belief in her writing; the path laid before us, as readers, is clear. There are few surprises for us to stumble across in LTCBO. However, the story is still extremely interesting, reminiscent of Edwidge Danticat's work both in its style and subject, and I was compelled to finish it. (And this is saying a lot, considering for every book I finish there are probably two or three I toss aside halfway through.) Smyth suggests that the story she is about to tell is already laid forth; she cannot change it or stray from the path before her. No suprises, just life in all its complicated, messy, heartwrenching glory. Lucky for me, this didn't make it a less worthwhile read.

Blythe's Book 4: Half Broke Horses by Jeannette Walls

The last three weeks have been my idea of heaven on Earth: I've read four books, tried at least three new recipes, slept in often, tried several new beers, and spent much time with family and friends. Ah, the holidays.

There were four books in particular that I had been eagerly awaiting, and this, my friends, is the fourth and final one: Half Broke Horses by Jeannette Walls. I wish I had finished with The Lacuna, seeing as I absolutely loved it, or even This is Where I Leave You, which had me laughing nonstop. Half Broke Horses was decent, but it didn't live up to the hype. The hype was self-created, so it was my own fault, but still.

Jeannette Walls' earlier memoir, The Glass Castle, still haunts me. I loved that book so much that I was beside myself when I heard she's written HBH, a "true life" novel. What is a true life novel, you ask? Basically, she takes the stories and remembrances of her mother and her family members and weaves them into a cohesive story-- adding in dialogue and details as needed, I'm assuming. HBH is the story of Jeannette's maternal grandmother, Lily Casey (Smith). Lily is a hardworking, tough as nails character-- a horsewoman, school teacher, taxi driver, mother, and pilot. She lives most of her life on ranches out West, and it is fascinating learning about how life was in the early 1900s in cattle country. If you've read The Glass Castle, you'll also find Half Broke Horses informative as a background story. Jeannette's mother, Rosemary, is one of the most memorable characters I've ever encountered, so coming to understanding from whence she came was motivation for reading this novel. I feel like I understand her much better now. UNFORTUNATELY, I just didn't like the novel that much. Walls' writing was really boring. Repetitive, uninspired, dull. I think she was trying to capture Lily's voice, but truth is, I want authors to write well. I don't go to restauarants so I can eat what I make at home, and I don't read books that are written the way anyone could write them. Walls uses the phrase "crumb-bum husband" at least five times. Who says that?! It was kind of like reading a Patrick Smith novel, for those of you who've read A Land Remembered, or any of his other works. You don't read a Smith novel because the language is beautiful, or because he knows how to turn a phrase; you read Smith's work because the storyline is compelling. If you choose to read Walls' Half Broke Horses, go in with the same mindset. You'll thank me.

Anyway, I think I might just try to cram one more book in this coming week so I can head back to the grind with memories of something a bit more tasty.