Archive for the ‘review’ Category
Friday, May 14th, 2010
“The Wives of Henry Oades” (Johanna Moran) starts with the move of Henry and Margaret Oades (and their children) from England to New Zealand. They’re a young, happy couple with a comfortable, loving relationship that’s enviable in its closeness. But as these things go, tragedy strikes. Natives kidnap Margaret and the kids while Henry is out. Though he is determined to leave no stone unturned, eventually he gives them up for dead sending him further into a distraught state of mind. After mourning inconsolably for months, he flees to America, leaving New Zealand and the memories behind. There he slowly heals and eventually starts a new life, even marrying a young widow who has a new baby. They find happiness together…until Margaret and the kids escape and show up on their doorstep.
None of this is a spoiler. You can read a similar synopsis on the back of the book. What it doesn’t tell you is that the book doesn’t truly hit its stride until the reunion in America. That despite everything the young family endures – an uncomfortable journey, a horrific kidnapping & captivity, severe illness, and traumatizing searches – the real story, the true drama doesn’t start until the first and second Mrs. Oades stand face to face. From there the story finds its rhythm and catapults the reader headlong onto an emotional rollercoaster. As the narration switches between the two wives, it’s impossible to decide loyalty, to feel more sympathy towards one than another. It’s fascinating to watch from their eyes, to see how they view each other (and life) compared to how they see themselves. Despite the title, Henry Oades is almost a peripheral character. Obviously he’s necessary to the plot but it’s the women who drive the story. It’s the women who have to make the hard decisions. They don’t take the easy or the popular path (although there were a few points I almost WANTED them to, just to end the misery). They do what women have done for centuries; they consider what’s best for the children and husband and act accordingly despite their personal desires.
My husband asked me about halfway through the book if it was good. My reply was “NO! Well, kind of. Yes. I don’t know…” Then he leaned in closer and incredulously said “Are you CRYING?” This was not a comfortable story to read. I found myself wanting to cling to my husband a little more, inexplicably feeling a little possessive and protective. I ran the gamut of emotions from embarrassment to anger (both towards and for the characters). There’s no fairy tale ending and yet, it’s unexpectedly happy. This isn’t about plural marriage. It’s about respectable people, making the best of an unusual situation. I’m glad I read it. I would be interested to hear a male viewpoint on the book though.
Friday, May 7th, 2010
When I included “The Creation of Eve” by Lynn Cullen on my To-Be-Read list, it was a low priority addition. The synopsis sounded like a decent diversion but hardly something I’d be rushing out to find. If you’ve been reading here for a bit, you know my tastes generally lean towards fantasy/sci-fi/horror. “The Creation of Eve” is historical fiction based on the life of Sofonisba Anguissola, the first renowned female artist of the Renaissance era – not exactly my usual fare. I truly expected a story that centered mostly on the main character and her artistic pursuits. And though the narrative is told from the perspective of Sofi the focus shifts between several characters and situations, keeping the story from getting bogged down. There are enough art & history references to keep those enthusiasts enticed and yet, enough intrigue to keep the rest of us (ahem…me) from slipping an unintentional nap into the day.
I have a reoccurring issue when reading historical fiction; situations that the characters consider scandalous generally trigger giggles from me (or an eye roll). For example, when the Queen rebelled by uncovering her hair outside, and order Sofi to do the same, I could not sympathize with Sofi’s dismay or shame at being discovered. I WANTED to sympathize but was too fascinated by the absurdity that uncovered hair was indecent. I’m simply unable to immerse myself into historical culture enough to identify with the characters’ angst. However, Cullen wrote these scenes brilliantly. She brought characters (and their reactions) beyond academic and injected them with a passion and genuineness that truly brought them to life. Her flair for subtly adding depth and color was especially impressive in her portrayal of King Felipe. His character could have easily become the stereotypical dangerous, powerful king rendering a very flat personality. Instead Cullen artfully reveals his many dimensions until I wasn’t sure whether to dislike him, admire him, or both.
In the end I was pleasantly surprised by “The Creation of Eve”. Cullen took a little known historical figure and cleverly filled in gaps in the facts with plausible scenarios. The end result was a delightful novel that I enjoyed, despite the inappropriate giggles.
Friday, April 30th, 2010
Have you ever read a book that you enjoyed, then squirmed, then disliked, then cried and then, at the end of it all, you realized you really really liked it?
Now you know the journey I took while reading “American Taliban”. The book opens in August 2000 following a privileged young man’s journey as he moves from surfer/skater through his study of Islam and ends in May 2002. Perhaps because 9/11 and the Taliban tend to be such a core part of the American conscious now, it was easy to forget sometimes that I was reading fiction. There were quite a few uncomfortable situations in the book (see above: squirmed) and quite frankly, while watching the progression from privilege to Taliban, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to finish the book. But in the end, Abraham brings everything full circle. That’s not to say that the book finishes neatly wrapped up and shiny — not at all. But it does feel complete. After the rollercoaster held within, I closed the pages with a sense of peaceful sorrow.
Monday, April 26th, 2010
Fiction new releases:
04/27/2010
Cars from a Marriage (Debra Galant)
The Tulip Virus (Danielle Hermans)
The God of the Hive (Laurie R King)
Young, Restless and Broke: A Novel (Blossom Kan)
The Carrie Diaries (Candace Bushnell)
Reckless (Andrew Gross)
Return to Sender (Fern Michaels)
The End Game (Gerrie Ferris Finger)
Last Train from Cuernavaca (Lucia St. Clair Robson)
Island Beneath the Sea (Isabel Allende)
The Edge of Ruin (Irene Fleming)
Burned (House of Night Series #7) (P.C. Cast & Kristin Cast)
Ether: Seven Stories and a Novella (Evgenia Citkowitz)
One Man’s Paradise (Douglas Corleone)
Lover Mine (Black Dagger Brotherhood Series #8) (J.R Ward)
April 28, 2010
Being Nikki (Meg Cabot)
Necroscope: The Plague-Bearer (Brian Lumley)
*Added to my “to be read” list
Friday, April 23rd, 2010
“Pinion” by Jay Clark (sequel to “Escapement”) was released March 30. I picked up both novels at the same time and read them back to back. If you have not read Escapement, I suggest you do the same. Although Pinion has a completely different feel, a lot would be lost without the first half of the story.
“Pinion” picks up immediately where “Escapement” left off. Clark continues his system of dedicating a few paragraphs/pages to each character’s situation and viewpoint. It’s an effective method for maintaining the many threads of the storyline. There’s a lot of details & action to keep up with but I never felt bogged down. There was no time to get bored with a plot line before switching to simultaneous events. This was particularly enjoyable when he switched between two characters in the same place. It was fun to see how differently they experienced and reacted to the exact same elements.
The novel was chock full of battles, intrigue and magic but to label it as simply an adventure story would be a disservice. Clark also tenderly weaves love through the pages. And make no mistake, the love stories are just that – purely love. There is no romance, flowers or frills. It is pure emotion and dedication grown from shared circumstances and respect that bond these characters. And just for good measure, Clark tosses in spiritual implications as well, not so subtly touching on the characteristic s and purpose of a soul as well as human’s ability to play at being gods.
This was a multilevel book that had me contemplating it several days after I closed the cover. Taken at surface value, it’s a great escapade. Dig deeper and it will stick with you much longer.
Friday, April 9th, 2010
I was a little surprised to find Michael Crichton’s “Pirates Latitude” on the “New Fiction” table at my local library last week and snatched it up immediately. Apparently the complete manuscript was found after his death in 2008. Harper Collins is no fool; it was published last November. My library has it coded with a checkout limit of two weeks. I only needed two evenings. This is not a novel you’ll set down easily.
The narrative immediately transports one to Port Royal, Jamica in 1665 – a coarse English colony in the middle of Spanish territory. The story reads like a movie (and I mean that in the most positive way possible) which is good because rumor has it Steven Spielberg has already signed on to produce it. A cast of varied and interesting characters tumble throughout the pages where scoundrels, whores & ruffians command loyalty and cheers. Reading this novel is like riding the high sea itself: high & low, rough & smooth. You never know where you’re going to be tossed next. Crichton is an adept navigator though. The action starts with a hanging and doesn’t stop until you finish the last (unexpected) paragraph.
Friday, March 26th, 2010
The “easy” part about writing book reviews is that they’re opinion pieces. You may not AGREE with my opinion. You may even think my taste in books royally stinks. It’s okay; there’s no right or wrong. You can even TELL me you disagree – and why. (As long as you do it nicely. Mean/rude comments will be deleted).
The HARD part of writing book reviews is that sometimes I sit staring at a blank page trying to do justice to a truly delightful read. That’s the case today.
A Twitter contact recommended N.D. Wilson‘s “100 Cupboards” trilogy. I’m quite glad she did. (I’m also glad I didn’t discover the books until AFTER the third one was published.) Wilson has a gift for description that allowed me to immediately immerse myself in his world(s). The characters were introduced but their personalities weren’t presented in a heavy handed fashion. Instead I felt as if I grew to know them as the story progressed, much as if I were making new friends.
The story itself is not new. A young boy, orphaned in practice if not legally, is packed off to live with unknown relatives where he finds adventure that forces him to learn about himself, and grow, until evil is defeated and everyone lives happily ever after. What I enjoyed about Wilson’s version is the adventures in the last two books are caused by Henry (the protagonist) taking responsibility for his actions in the first book. While he has his share of trepidation, he usually grits his teeth and takes action. When his family & friends look to him as leader, it’s because he’s actively earned the position, not passively received it through circumstances.
The books have a little bit of everything: humor, danger, adventure, and magic. The joys of everyday, common experiences overlay the story and the importance of true family and friends intertwine with supernatural powers. I loved reading these books. Even more, I loved that I could recommend these books to my kids.
Friday, March 19th, 2010
The concept of John Banville’s The Infinities – Greek gods amusing themselves with a family while narrating the events – sparked my interest as soon as I heard about it. I wanted to love the book. I tried to love the book. But I couldn’t, a fact that, quite possibly, reflects on my abilities as a reader more than the abilities of the author. Banville writes beautifully but often I found myself tangled in his prose. Phrases that should have been simple enough (ex: “To us your world is what the world in mirrors is to you”) were usually lost within long passages of meandering descriptions. Events or places were frequently described in great detail that served no apparent purpose in the overall story arch leaving me to feel as if there were some profound meaning that I was unable to grasp, some grand point that hovered just outside my comprehension.
This is not an action novel. Everything that takes place here is within the thoughts of the characters. That fact alone is not a criticism; I was looking forward to how it all played out. Unfortunately, interactions are emotionless. The cast with all of their severe flaws should have been wonderfully complicated and troublesome but instead were colorless, save for a few (all too rare) scenes. The pranks the gods play are relatively tame. Banville commented in an interview that he used Heinrich von Kleist’s play Amphitryon as inspiration (and it is actually referenced within the book). However there was no comedy of errors in “The Infinities”. And though Banville says all his books are humorous, I found very little here. Perhaps that’s a result of my American tendencies to get distracted by details such as “tyre” instead of “tire”. Perhaps it’s because after re-reading passages for the first few chapters, trying to tease out the significance, I grew bored and began skimming for actual meaning while missing subtle points that would have made the novel worthwhile. I have read glowing reviews and profound summaries of this novel. The last few pages did make me sit up and take notice so that I finished thinking “Wait. Maybe that wasn’t so bad” instead of “Whew! That’s finally done!” I’m even tempted to re-read it if for no other reason than to prove to myself that I haven’t become completely lazy in my reading habits and do, in fact, have the capabilities to recognize whatever philosophical gist lay at the core of the pages.
Friday, March 12th, 2010
I hesitated for awhile before picking up “The Birth House” by Ami McKay. It just didn’t sound like something that would tickle my fancy. But then I started hearing good things about it — really good things. And I’ve been known to pick up books that I thought I would love but was extremely disappointed. Besides the rule is don’t judge a book by its cover, right?
Words cannot express how glad I am that I picked up this book.
McKay artfully wove the story of Dora Rare’s life with a simple poignancy that pulled me into the very fabric of pages. Starting with the knowledge that Dora is the only daughter in five generations of Rares and moving smoothly down the road of her life, there were no overly contrived plot twists or absurd moments that distracted me from the tale. Every detail felt authentic and served to further the story.
One of my favorite moments in the book takes place at Dora’s wedding shower. Her mother frets that she did not keep her wedding dress but used it to make christening clothes for Dora’s older brothers. Her aunts confide that they all did the same. It’s simple but sweet moment that helps develop the characters from merely words on a page to individual personalities.
McKay made it easy to forget I was reading a piece of fiction and not a biography. I was emotionally invested in what happened to Dora and those in her life. The only complaint I had was over something that is, alas, a problem in every great book. It eventually has to end. And while “The Birth House” ends in a satisfying and entirely appropriate manner, I was sad to say goodbye to Dora and crew.
Friday, March 5th, 2010
I’ve never read much of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s work. I’m pretty sure “The Great Gatsby” was included in my high school curriculum but that was a long time ago and I don’t remember much of those classes anyway. But awhile ago my husband and I settled in to watch the movie “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”. And I loved it. I loved it so much that I decided I had to read the original story.
At first I couldn’t decide if I was disappointed or not. And I couldn’t figure out, if I WAS disappointed, was it with the book or the film?
The book and the movie have exactly three things in common: the title, the name of the main character, and the fact that he grows younger as the years pass. I’ve already admitted I loved the movie. (Fans of the original short story are probably throwing rotten veggies at the screen right now.) But Eric Roth (the screen play writer) created an entirely new story. It was billed as “based on” Fitzgerald’s work. Quite frankly, that is a stretch. I can understand why his fans could be insulted by such a claim. But here’s the thing – I love the original work just as much.
The movie is a romance, a story about an enduring love that evolves & transcends age. I do so love a good love story. The book is much more tragic, full of selfishness & contempt, illustrating what difficulties would be encountered while living such a phenomenon. And I love darker considerations. So I’ve finally concluded I’m not disappointed in either. I can’t be. They’re NOT THE SAME STORY.
But I’m curious about YOUR opinion. Were you a fan of Fitzgerald’s story and disappointed with the movie? Did you fall in the love with the movie and hate the book? Something in between? Let me know!
