Book Sixty-Three: A Voyage Long, and Strange

Book Sixty-Three: A Voyage Long and Strange
Finished: December 25th
Pages: 445

While it took me a while to finish this book, it wasn't because I didn't find it fascinating. Tony Horwitz is fast becoming one of my favorite authors, much like his wife. I've already started The Confederates in the Attic, and find it just as well written.
The premise behind A Voyage Long and Strange is rather simple, but much more complicated when you think about the massive amount of research and preparation, not to mention time for travel. Mr. Horwitz begins his book at Plymouth Rock, the mythical birthplace of America, and then spends the rest of the book explaining just how mythical Plymouth really is. This exploration into the birth of America can be, at times, hilarious and often heart warming, while at other times you can't help but wonder at just how depressing the history of our nation really is. Horwitz doesn't seem to do anything by halves, taking up a trip that will cover all the various early explorations of America, from the Vikings to the Spanish to the French. It is a delightful way to look at history, and I must say that I probably would have done much better in history class if we had read this book instead of de Tocqueville.
I like narrative history so much more and can only hope to continue reading books this entertaining in the future.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Sixty-Two: Peace Like a River

Book Sixty-Two: Peace Like a River
Finished: December 9
Pages: 312

Let's be perfectly honest, I didn't actually finish this book, but I read more than half of it, and I read the last chapter, and that is as much time as I plan on giving.
I'm not sure what it was about the book that makes me so certain that I don't want to give it any more time, but there was definitely something. Maybe it was the mystical, supernatural element, maybe it was the heavy handed Christian allegory, maybe it was the obnoxious precociousness of the narrator's little sister, I can't really make up my mind. But, whatever the reason, I'm done with this book, and I'm actually getting rid of it, so whichever sin it was, it was an unforgivable one.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Sixty-one: The Grimm Legacy

Book Sixty-one: The Grimm Legacy
Finished: December 6
Pages: 325

This book is definitely a cute idea, of a library that contained objects instead of books, and this specific library contains the objects talked about in the Grimm Fairy Tales, like seven league boots, and the twelve dancing princesses shoes, not to mention the Evil Queen's mirror from Snow White.
This story follows the story of Elizabeth Rew, who becomes a worker at the library, and her adventures with the other young people working at the library. I would definitely read the book with a child of mine, but probably wouldn't read it again myself.
Pretty cute, definitely younger adult, but worth the read if you want a bit of fluff.
Thanks for the read, Lydia!

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Fifty-Six to Sixty: Young Adult Extravaganza

Book Fifty-six: The Hunter's Moon
Finished: November 3
Pages: 289

Super-lame, under-developed, fake mythology with a cast of characters right out of archetypes-r-us.
Bleh.
I would like my hour and a half back, please.



Book Fifty-Seven: The Naming
Finished: November 5th
Pages: 528

Wanna be Lord of the Rings with a girl protagonist. There are four more books in this series, I think. I'm not going to rush out and check them out of the library any time soon.



Book Fifty-Eight: Jinx
Finished: November 7
Pages: 272

Cute, girly, appropriately young adult. Plus, Meg Cabot is pretty adorable. The best I can say is "yay happy endings."



Book Fifty-Nine: The Ask and the Answer
Finished: November 18
Pages: 544

Seriously, this book could not have been more disappointing. Also, I am super tired of dramatic cliffhangers at the end of books just so you have to go out and get the next one. I suppose I should be thankful that the third book in this series is already out, so if I wanted to know what happens I could find out today, but quite frankly, I just could not stand to read another one of these books. There was no resolution whatsoever for any of the conflicts in the novel!
The only good thing was this quote: "To see the ocean once is to learn how to miss it" (156).

Book Sixty: All We Know of Heaven
Finished: November 22
Pages: 310

I have decided that one of the worst things in Young Adult Lit is when a woman old enough to have teenagers herself takes it upon herself to write in the voice of teenagers. It sometimes works perfectly, but in this case, it sounds fake and sad. There is nothing more embarrassing than reading a book like this one. It was overly sentimental, contrived, and quite frankly, outlandishly unrealistic. This coming from someone who loves fantasy! Two girls are mistaken for each other after a car wreck, and the resulting fallout of mistaken identity, guilt, and remorse. It could have been an excellent choice, but the lack of proper grammar, inappropriate use of slang, and ridiculous punctuation and capitalization of the dialogue of even the adults in the story made me regret ever starting it. I think that a story like this could really be used to inspire students to overcome obstacles, but it just made me want to punch every single character in the face for being the stereotypes they were.

"Good" reading,
Caitlin

Book Fifty-five: Keturah and Lord Death

Book Fifty-five: Keturah and Lord Death
Finished: November 2
Pages: 214

This National Book Award Finalist was a remarkably quick read, and yet, in those short pages, I was blown away by the imagery in the prose. I have always been fascinated by stories about Death, and this one was no less surprising, for all it's a story that's been told over and over again. A mix of Scheherazade's 1,001 Nights; the myth of Persephone; and traditional fairy tales like Beauty and the Beast, or Cinderella, whose retellings delight me even if they are a little too "kiddy" for me; I loved the characterization of both Keturah, our narrator, the other girls in her village, and Lord Death. I loved the twists and turns in the narrative. I love the ending, because you both expect and don't expect it, and I like to be kept guessing. I like that the story takes place over such a small portion of time, but you still feel close to all the characters.
Definitely more worth the read than anything else that I've read so far this month.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Fifty-Four: Like Water for Chocolate

Book Fifty-Four: Like Water for Chocolate
Finished: November 2
Pages: 246

I read this one at the behest of Lacey, I think, or Kathy, or someone who told me that The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake was a knock-off of this book. I think maybe if I had read Like Water for Chocolate first, maybe I would agree, but the books are so stylistically different that there really is little comparison except that food is involved with both.
I suppose I liked the book. I suppose, if pressed, I could come up with reasons why I liked it. In another frame of mind I might have loved this book, and I can't really come up with a good reason why I didn't love it. There was just something...off about it. Maybe it was that the book is organized into chapters by month, but the time goes by at a different rate: sometimes it seems like only a few days between chapters, sometimes it feels like several years.
I really didn't like some of the choices that the author made with the characters, made all the more difficult to understand toward the end because I didn't know how many years had gone by. I thought it had been only 2 days between chapters, but that time it was 22 years. A little shocking to discover that much time had passed, and the characters had not grown any wiser.
I really did not like Pedro, and I didn't understand why Tita did. What was so special about him? I mean, he married her sister! What a jerk. I liked her sister, Gertrudis, the most, because she seemed the most honest and true to herself. I liked John, because he was open and honest with Tita about his affections, and because he was a genuinely nice guy. Why would she choose to be with Pedro?
Ugh. Maybe I didn't like the book. It did make me want Mexican food with a vengeance, which was nice.
Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Fifty-Three: A Lesson Before Dying

Book Fifty-Three: A Lesson Before Dying
Finished: October 20
Pages: 256

I'm teaching this book to two of my classes at school, but I wish I was teaching it to them all. Reading this and The Help at the same time really makes me feel shitty about being white.
Sometimes I see myself as Grant, a cynical struggling teacher with no real talent that people respect because they aren't really aware of just how awful a teacher he is. Now, I don't beat my children with a ruler, but I think that all teachers are guilty of taking their anger and hurt out on students who did not cause those particular problems. Heaven knows when my students complained about writing a one page essay about the book I jumped down their throats. Sometimes I think that good literature is wasted on those who cannot appreciate it, but need to hear the message the most.
The suffering of Jefferson, having heard himself called a hog, having internalized his lack of worth, just breaks my heart. Even Grant, who I generally dislike throughout the book, I could only sympathize with him. If someone asked me to turn a person like Jefferson into a man before he was executed, I don't have the faintest idea what I would do to try to create that change.
My hope is that I would be like Paul, were I a white person in the 1940's. I think every white person wishes to be the most likeable white character in a novel like this. No one wants to be the actively racist Sheriff, or his wife, who pretends to be sympathetic but really just feels awkward. I suppose I would maybe like to be like Grant, who regains his faith and loses some of his cynicism by the end of the novel. I would like to give the grandiose speeches that reach into the soul of the person I am trying to reach, and open them up to new ideas and new self-respect.
I suppose that is the purpose of great literature, to show us how we could be better, to reflect back upon us our insecurities and doubts so that, when faced with impossible situations, we can try to figure out how to deal with them with grace.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Fifty-Two: The Help

Book Fifty-Two: The Help
Finished: October 19
Pages: 451

I am often hesitant to read books that everyone seemed to love. If too many people hype a book up, I am all the more likely to dislike it. Maybe it's just my indie cred sensibilities that make me want to dislike things because they are popular. Maybe it's that books can rarely live up to our expectations of them. In the same way, I don't want to hype up a book here and have people be disappointed in it, but you're just going to have to bear with me here.
I have been meaning to read this book since it came out. I was drawn first by the cover, the three birds and the yellow background is pretty eye-catching. I was just waiting for it to come out in paperback. Let me tell you, I'm glad that I didn't wait, because man, I'd still have several months to go and this book has been out for almost two years.
The story of three women in the divided South, The Help seems to me to be a story of the times. Although this story is told from the perspective of women, and the issues dealt with are almost exclusively in the realm of women, I think that this is a book that could, conceivably, appeal to anyone. The relationship between white and black women, and between the boss (I wish I could come up with a better word here) and the help is complex and perhaps in some ways glossed over in this book. I think that all people hope that, were we to live in the 1960's or 70's, we would be the "good guys" who were all for integration, and never said anything racist or participated in the active exclusion of others because of their differences. I'm no different. I would like to think that I would stand up against injustice regardless of the social ramifications, but I just don't know if that's the case.
I read several uncomplimentary reviews of this book, mostly due to the reader's dissatisfaction with the negative portrayal of white women, and the overly sweet portrayal of the black women as needing the white women to help them, and being understanding and appreciative of that help when they received it. I suppose I can understand this viewpoint because it did seem insincere at times that a white woman would wish the help black women, and maybe it was hard to understand that a white woman at this point in time would not understand the possible consequences of writing down the true stories of black women who worked in white households, and raised white children.
Some of these stories are so horrifying that they could only be true. There is no other option. And let's be honest, I don't have the least idea of what it means to deal with this kind of prejudice, and so I can't say if the struggles faced by these characters are accurate, or genuine. I can say that the characterization felt realistic to me, and I certainly identified with the characters and their actions at different points in the novel.
I'm certainly buying this for a few friends for Christmas, just so I can have more people to talk with about it.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Fifty and Fifty-One: City of Ashes, City of Glass

Book Fifty: City of Ashes
Finished: October 7
Pages: 453

Book Fifty-One: City of Glass
Finished: October 7
Pages: 541

So, I finished this series. I couldn't leave it half done. I needed to know where she was going with the story and characters. I must admit, I do love the world that she created. I like the way that the various fantastic creatures lived and interacted with the "real world" and I also enjoyed the layers of politics. I found many of the characters to be cliched and repetitive. Some of the ends were too neat. I don't really like stories that are happy endings; when there are so few sacrifices on the part of the reader, it doesn't make it easy to stay invested in the story.
I found the two main characters, Clary and Jace, to be pretty obnoxiously into each other, especially since they are supposed to be brother and sister through most of it. Even if it does turn out to be incorrect at the end, I still spent a large portion of the books being totally weirded out.
If you only read one Young Adult series ever, this is not the one to spend your time on, though I think this is definitely better than Twilight. If nothing else, it is a quick read.
Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Forty-nine: The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake

Book Forty-nine: The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake
Finished: October 1
Pages: 292

I feel sad after finishing this book. I've been told that I should just read Like Water for Chocolate, instead of it's knock-offs, but from what I know of that book, Lemon Cake seems to be quite a bit different.
I was a little disappointed. Things that I wanted to have happen, didn't. Things that I thought wouldn't happen, did. The stuff that I thought needed to be talked about wasn't talked about, and it didn't seem that the more mundane characters really suffered for their mistakes.
The idea of the book is that Rose, our protagonist, can taste the emotions cooked into the foods she eats by the people who make them. She first learns this when she eats the birthday cake that her seemingly perfect and happy mother makes for her. Seems interesting, right? There are even a couple of interesting supporting characters; my favorites are the crazy Grandma who sends the family weird objects from her house, and George, Rose's brother's best friend, who has surprised eye brows.
I don't know if I would really recommend this book to many people. Even now, I just feel depressed. I'm not sure what the point of the book was, or what lesson was learned. I just don't know.
Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Forty-eight: Eat, Pray, Love

Book Forty-eight: Eat, Pray, Love
Pages: 331
Finished: September 20

I would like to clear up a few things before I talk about this book. I am a little embarrassed that I read this book. I didn't read it because of the movie, and I didn't really read it because of all the hype. Mostly, I wanted to know what the big deal was, and I can't say that I really discovered it.
The premise seems like something that I should like. A woman writes a book about her journey through Italy, India, and Bali, recovering from a difficult divorce. I should even find commonalities between myself and Ms. Gilbert; we both are independent women, I am also not sure if I will ever really be ready to settle down and raise a family, we both like to travel. But there, I think, the similarities end.
I found the author to be overly sensitive, over-emotional, selfish, and often just grating. I know that many people appreciate her sense of humor, but I often didn't get it. I liked many of her stories, but she often fell back in to period of introspection that made me want to punch her in the face. I would have liked it if she had stuck to stories from her travels and left the deep spiritual conversations out of it. Not because I don't appreciate spirituality, but because I found her to be contrived and fake.
I don't want to read about the conversations that she had with herself written in a journal. They made me feel awkward, and creeped out. I don't want to read about her deep meditation, though I would rather hear about that then her conversations with "The god inside her" or whatever. I don't really appreciate the idea of a bunch of white people thinking that they have to go to India to really experience enlightenment. I find it pretentious.
But there were parts that I really enjoyed. I loved her stories of people that she meets and things that she does. I enjoy stories of difficulties and funny things that happen. I like the characters that she creates.

Last summer, right before I left the States, I went to visit my grandparents in upstate New York. My grandfather's wife...is this really nice old lady named Gale, in her eighties now. She hauled out this old photo album and showed me pictures from the 1930s, when she was eighteen years old and went on a trip to Europe for a year with her two best friends and a guardian. She's flipping through these pages, showing me these amazing old photographs of Italy, Venice. I go, 'Gale-who's the hottie?' She goes, 'That's the son of the people who owned the hotel where we stayed in Venice. He was my boyfriend.' I go, 'Your boyfriend?' And my grandfather's sweet wife looks at me all sly and her eyes get all sexy like Bette Davis, and she goes, 'I was tired of looking at churches, Liz.'

Personally, the book didn't do much for me. I guess I'm glad that I read it, because now I know what everyone is talking about. It's certainly not something that I would really recommend to anyone else.
Good Reading,
Caitlin

Books Forty-six and Forty-seven: Brightly Woven and Dead Until Dark

Book Forty-six: Brightly Woven
Pages: 354
Finished: September 17

Well, surprise, surprise! I read some more young adult fiction. I know, you're shocked! What can I say? It's the beginning of the school year, and I don't really want to read a lot of heavy stuff right now.
This is your basic Young Adult plot: Girl meets mysterious boy with secret. Girl is taken away from everything she knows on wild adventure with mysterious boy. Girl develops secret magic powers. Boy and girl have conflict. Girl runs away/gets kidnapped/gets in trouble. Discovers she is in love with Boy. Boy saves girl/girl saves herself. Boy and girl fall in love. The End.

Whoops, sorry. I just ruined every Young Adult Fantasy novel in existence.

Book Forty-seven: Dead Until Dark
Pages: 336
Finished: Sometime in the last three weeks

Many of my friends are obsessed with Trueblood. So, I decided to take the Charlaine Harris books for a spin. I was also checking to see if these were books that I would want to have in my classroom, since my kids are all obsessed with Twilight. Man, was I wrong on that count! I just don't feel comfortable having my kids read books with that much sex in them. If it had been a couple isolated incidents, I would not have minded, but these are definitely trashy books, with little redeeming value.
Did I enjoy this book? Certainly. When I need a trashy light read I will turn to the rest of this series, but I don't think I'll recommend them to my students.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Forty-five: Fire

Forty-five: Fire
Pages: 461
Finished: September 9

This is a companion to the world of Book Six, that I read back in January, called Graceling. I think that it is interesting how much the author had grown in many ways in the course of just one book. While this book takes place in the same Universe as the first, it isn't necessary to read the other book to know what is going on, and the action takes place many years prior to the first book. I like the character Fire, because she is strong, and independent, and I like female characters who are conscious of some of their faults, and also characters that are not entirely "good" or "bad." Fire has some very good characteristics, but she also has some very bad aspects, as any person with the kind of powers that she has would be tempted by. I like the large supporting cast of characters, and the descriptive quality of Cashore's writing.
It's a well-developed world, with a fight for the kingdom, just like most fantasy novels, and the well-written action means I'll come back to this author again to see where she goes from here.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Forty-four: Year of Wonders

Forty-four: Year of Wonders: A Novel of the Plague
Pages: 308
Finished: September 7

Any book where the title itself tells you it is about the Plague, probably isn't going to be a pick-me-up sort of book. Apparently I am drawn to morbid books. I was probably the most curious as to why a book about something as awful as Plague would have a title that sounds so positive. The title comes from Dryden, who called 1666 "annus mirabilis" which is Latin for Year of Wonders, although this was the year not only of the plague, but also the war with the Dutch, and the Great Fire. It should bring to mind God's words to Moses, "Thou shalt do my wonders," which included the many plagues against the Egyptians.
I like historical fiction that is well researched but not overly obnoxious about how well researched it is. (For a bad example, see The Dante Club.) Geraldine Brooks has yet to disappoint me with her fiction rooted in historical events. There really was a village in England that, when the Plague hit, closed themselves off from the world around them and tried to limit the spread of the disease.
This particular version of events is told through the eyes of Anna, a servant of the rector of the village. There is a lot that I was very familiar with in this story: the fear of witches, the way that people can be easily swayed through fear, but many of the more religious aspects of Puritan beliefs were new to me. It was also interesting to see the changes in Anna, and how her idea of faith changes throughout the book.

As I walked away from the croft, I caught my toe on a loose stone and stumbled, grazing the hand that I flung out to break my fall. My anger magnified this small hurt and I cursed. As I sucked at the injured place, a question began to press upon me. Why, I wondered, did we, all of us, both the rector in his pulpit and simple Lottie in her croft, seek to put the Plague in unseen hands? Why should this thing be either a test of faith sent by God, or the evil working of the Devil in the world? One of these beliefs we embraced, the other we scorned as superstition. But perhaps each was false, equally. Perhaps the Plague was either of God nor the Devil, but simply a thing in Nature, as the stone on which we stub a toe.

The only part of the story that I didn't particularly like was the neat and lovely way that the story wrapped itself up. I didn't really feel that a book that is so harrowing really needed to have a happy ending. I suppose I can't really fault the author for wanting to give her readers a bit of light at the end of the tunnel.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Forty-Three: Little Bee

Fourty-three: Little Bee
Pages: 266
Finished: August 30

Like all bookclub books, I wait to review the book until after we meet. While this keeps my fellow bookclub members from being subjected to my opinions too many times, the downside is that I don't always remember everything that I want to talk about. As I was reading this book, I often found myself thinking of a friend of mine who was living in Rwanda during the violence there. I was shocked by my reaction to the emotion and violence in the book, simply because you would think that by now, with all the books that I have read on the subject, that I would be less surprised by the reality of life in some parts of the world.
I was very impressed with Chris Cleave's skill in writing a female voice. Often when a male author attempts to write in a female voice it comes off strange, or awkward. That was not the case here. Although he is writing as two very different women drawn together by a mutual experience, neither character seems forced or unrealistic. I enjoyed the narrative style of Little Bee, the titular character, for a number of reasons that I have a tough time articulating. Let me just give you an example:

One of the things I would have to explain to the girls from back home, if I was telling them this story, is the simple little word horror. It means something different to the people from my village.
In your country, if you are not scared enough already, you can go to watch a horror film. Afterward you can go out of the cinema into the night and for a little while there is horror in everything. Perhaps there are murderers lying in wait for you at home. You think this because there is a light on in your house that you are certain you did not leave on. And when you remove your makeup in the mirror last thing, you see a strange look in your own eyes. It is not you. For one hour you are haunted, and you do not trust anybody, and then the feeling fades away. Horror in your country is something you take a dose of to remind yourself that you are not suffering from it.
For me and the girls from my village, horror is a disease and we are sick with it. It is not an illness you can cure yourself of by standing up and letting the big red cinema seat fold itself up behind you. That would be a good trick.

This is why I love Little Bee, both the book and the character, because there are paragraphs like this one. Little Bee is a survivor, and there is something in the earnestness of her words that makes me want to take care of her.
I really don't want to talk too much about this book, and what happens in it, because I wouldn't want anyone to be spoiled, even though I've never really cared too much about that sort of thing. One thing I will say, I hope that, if push comes to shove, I am more like Sarah than Andrew. I want to think that I am that sort of person, that I wouldn't rationalize the choices that I make. I worry that I would though.
I leave you with a quote. "I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived" (9).
Good Reading,
Caitlin

My summer of "reading:" Books Thirty-nine through Forty-two

Thirty-nine: The Sugar Queen
Finished: July 23
Pages: 294
A sweet (pun intended) story of a young woman who lives everyday with the specter of the horrible child that she was, and her unlikely friendship with two other women: a washed out waitress named Della Lee, who lives in her closet; and Chloe, a young woman haunted by her lover's infidelity. I didn't like this book as much as I did the other Allen books that I've read, and I can't really put my finger on why. Maybe it's that I can't associate a ski resort with the Carolinas, maybe because I found the twists more transparent than before. I'm not sure, but whatever it was, it didn't keep me from at least enjoying this book a bit.

Forty: Infidel
Finished: August 15
Pages: 350

Oh lord, I don't even want to tell you the horror and pain that this book put me through. There came a point when I just wanted to put the dumb thing down, and never pick it up again, but no, I had to win against the book. Two months after beginning it, I finally finished. It wasn't particularly that the narrator was overly self-important, or that the narrative was slow, because usually I can look beyond that. I can't really tell you. Maybe it was just the horror of what Ms. Hirsi Ali went through, and the unemotional way that she was able to talk about the awful things that happened to her that kept me from being overly emotionally involved.

Forty-one: Archangel
Finished: August ?
Pages: 390

So, I have this habit. If I find an author, and like a couple of their books, I then feel obligated to track down everything they have ever written on the hopes that I will like those other books just as much. Sometimes this works out really well for me, like Geraldine Brooks, or Sarah Addison Allen. Sometimes, like this time, I'm so disappointed that I am surprised that it's the same author.
This was an interesting concept, where angels take the prayers of the people they protect and sing them to god themselves, but I thought the religion a bit heavy handed, and at times I kept wondering, since the cover was so science fiction-y if the god they were praying to wasn't really god at all.

Forty-two: The Girl Who Chased the Moon
Finished: August 21
Pages: 269

This book reminded me of Big Fish: the small town, the magical pieces that fit into the Southern town without any trouble at all, the physical eccentricities. I love the imaginative touches that the author added, that I never would have thought of, like changing wallpaper. I can't decide if I like this one or Garden Spells more, but I think Garden Spells only because it was the first one I read. I like the Southern sensibility of young men in seersucker suits, and boater hats, and this particular story made me feel like sitting on a front porch in a rocking chair drinking an ice cold Coca-Cola in a glass bottle and watching fireflies though Spanish Moss.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Thirty-eight: The Knife of Never Letting Go

Book Thirty-eight: The Knife of Never Letting Go
Pages: 479
Finished: 4:25 a.m. July 28

So, you guys? I'm a little overwhelmed. This book is CRAZY. Seriously. Because, you guys? I totally just read it in two and a half hours. The WHOLE BOOK. That's 479 pages of normal sized Young Adult book text in less than three hours. You know how I read Catching Fire in one night because of how good it was? and how I can't read the last Harry Potter in anything less than 5 and a half hours straight through, don't call me I won't answer the phone, must cry for Snape insanity? This was like that, but a different kind of intense, plus there is a talking dog. Let me repeat that: There is a talking dog in this book and it is endearing as hell. It is pretty much exactly the way I picture dogs talking. Like in UP but cuter because I get to give the dog whatever voice I want.
PS. I've only read one other book all the way through in the past three weeks, and I don't understand why we can have all these really easy to read interesting books for young adults, but I feel obligated to slog my way through Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali to make myself feel guilty about being an American who didn't have to go through difficulties.
Issues with the book were not completely absent. Pretty much half the book is misspelled. This bothered me for about forty pages, and then I just tried to think of it like Huckleberry Finn, and it was fine. It makes sense that if you have a narrator whose words you can see, you would see them misspelled if he doesn't even know how to read. P.S. Super adorable when he tries to read. I mean it.
The premise of the book is also interesting. Human settlers leave Earth (or I'm assuming it's Earth) and land on a new planet. The new planet causes everyone to be able to hear all the thoughts of all the men. Different groups of people have different reactions. The story goes on from there. The way that they give you these bits and snippets of history and "truth" is also very vividly written.
Probably not for fans of sci-fi, but an enjoyable read, so maybe you should try it anyway.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Thirty-seven: Garden Spells

Book Thirty-seven: Garden Spells
Finished: July 21
Pages: 290

Obviously, I have been remiss in my posting. So, you'll have to stick with me as I try to remember what I wanted to say about a book that is now living at my mother's house, hopefully being read.
I liked this book. It was sweet, and light, and everything that you want in summer reading. It wasn't too realistic, it had that magical hint that can either make or break a light summer read. Okay, maybe it wasn't a hint of magic. Maybe there was an apple tree who was my favorite character. No, it didn't walk, or talk, or anything else, it was just a charming tree.
The story is reminiscent of other chick-lit-y books: two sisters separated by years and choices come back together in their home town and deal with all the drama that comes from that separation, both between each other, and between the family and the town.
I liked the interesting magical details: scorching hand prints, a man so full of love and lust that he glows at night...it was the little things that really made the story so delightful.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Thirty-six: Nine Parts of Desire

Book Thirty-six: Nine Parts of Desire: The Hidden World of Islamic Women
Finished: July 2
Pages: 239

When I was in Borders the other day, I was looking for another Geraldine Brooks book to read. Having read People of the Book, I wanted to read her other novels, so I grabbed this one. At the time I thought it would be similar to People, a fictionalization of real events. Instead I was pleasantly surprised to find a book that is a work of non-fiction, based on Ms. Brooks' experiences as a foreign correspondent living in the Middle East for 6 years. Her look into the lives of Islamic women of all different backgrounds and opinions gives a remarkably even-keeled informative look into this world, a world of which I am sorely lacking information.
I like learning about different cultures, and while all books, even ones written with journalistic integrity cannot help but be biased towards whatever beliefs the author holds, I feel that Ms. Brooks tried very hard to be open-minded and come with honest questions seeking honest answers. I must be honest, I was impressed by the obvious scholarship shown in her meticulous research, as well as being impressed by the caliber of interviews she was able to have over the course of her time in the Mid-East. There are conversations in the book with the wife of Khomeini, as well as his daughter; King Hussein of Jordan and his wife Queen Noor; as well as her ability to get regular women and men to talk to her, those people who are not in the spotlight but dealing with the same issues. She quotes the Koran and the hadith (stories about the life of the Prophet that are not strictly in the scriptures of the Koran, as well as the laws and regulations of a number of different countries, cases that have come before the various courts and the reactions of the people.
This one quote, to me, sums up the eloquence with which she speaks candidly about all her subjects:

It wasn't until I went to Cairo and started seeking out Muslim women that I realized I hadn't made a close female friend since I left school.
I'd forgotten how much I liked to be with women. And yet there was always a sourness lurking a the edge of even the sweetest encounters. Squatting on the floor of a Kurdish friend's kitchen, helping the women with their bread making, I realized what an agreeable thing it was to be completely surrounded by women, to have a task that was ours alone. As the women's deft fingers flung balls of dough under my rolling pin and the fire roared beneath a baking sheet of blackened metal, I felt contentment in shared work well done.
But an hour into the labor, as my shoulders ached and scalding sweat dribbled down my back, I began to resent the boy toddler who kept ambling up to the steaming pile of fresh bread and breaking off tasty morsel in his fat little fists. His sister, not much older, was already part of our bread-making assembly line. Why should he learn so young that her role was to toil for his pleasure?
The nunlike clothes, pushed to the back of my closet, remind me of all those mixed feelings. Every time my hand brushes the smooth fabric of the chador, I think of Nahid Aghtaie, the Iranian medical student who gave up an easy life in London to go home and work at low-paying jobs to advance the goals of her revolution. I remember her, in Qum, drifting toward me over the marble-floored mosque to tell me that she'd prayed for me "to have nice children." And then I think of her beautiful face-the small visible triangle between brown and lip-radiant on the morning of the murder of Rushdie's Japanese translator in July 1991. "This," she said triumphantly, "shows the power of Islam." I told her that, to me, it no more showed the power of Islam than an Israeli soldier's shooting of a Palestinian child showed the power of Judaism. Why not, I asked her, cite the "power of Islam" in the humanitarian work that Iran was doing for the flood of Iraqi refugees that was then pouring over its borders? "Because nobody notices when we do such things," she said. "But every news report in the world will note this execution."
Eventually I became worn out by such conversations. Friendships with women like Nahid were an emotional whipsaw: how was it possible to admire her for the courage of her convictions, when her convictions led to such hateful reasoning?

The title of the book comes from a quote said by Ali, the husband of Muhammad's beloved daughter Fatima and the founder of the Shiite Islam. He said, "Almighty God created sexual desire in ten parts; then he gave nine parts to women and one to men" (39). In the Catholic school of thought, she goes on to say, girls are seen as the less sexually active gender and so must therefore always be careful around those sex-crazed boys. Islam is the opposite, women must be careful because they are the sex-crazed ones. There are also a lot fewer rules in the Koran than in the Bible regarding sex. It is interesting to see how different and yet still repressive so much of any society can be.
Anyone who wants to learn about the different ways that Muslim society views women should read this book. It is exceptionally well-written and eye-opening.
Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Thirty-five: Five Quarters of the Orange

Book Thirty-five: Five Quarters of the Orange
Finished: June 21, 2010
Pages: 336

I have read one of Joanne Harris’s other books, Chocolat. That book is certainly similar in a number of ways to Five Quarters. Both set in France, with strange names for many of her characters, and food. Food always plays a huge role in her books. Little wonder that she has put out a couple of cookbooks.
Set during the German occupation of France, this story deals with the lives of three French children, their mother, and their interactions with a German soldier. The children (Boise is nine at the time, the eldest, Cassis is not even sixteen) spy on their neighbors in order to gain favor with Tomas: “We were wild animals, just as Mother said, and we took some taming. He must have known that from the start, the clever way he set out to take us one by one, making each feel special…Even now, God help me, I can almost believe it. Even now” (108). Over the course of the book, the relationships between all the various characters come to light as Boise, now an old woman, discovers her mother's recipe book and all the secrets it contains.

Woke at six this morning, for the first time in months. Strange, how everything looks different. When you haven’t slept it’s as if the world is sliding away bit by bit. The ground isn’t quite in line with your feet. The air seems full of shiny stinging particles. I feel I’ve left a part of myself behind, but I can’t remember what. They look at me with such solemn eyes. I think they’re afraid of me. All but Boise. She’s not afraid of anything. I want to warn her that it doesn’t last forever.

Many of the issues the characters face are ones that are of their own making. Although you would think that I would place the blame on the Germans, and the secrecy that didn't allow for free expression which led to the tragedy in the book, but I don't. I place the blame on the shoulders of all the characters, especially Boise. She causes a lot of the trouble in the book through her own choices to be trouble herself. Although in the end she regrets some of these actions, “Of course, by then there were to be no more oranges, ever again. I think even I had lost my taste for them” (222), I felt that she was not as remorseful as much as avoiding blame and consequences.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Thirty-four: The Disappeared

Book Thirty-four: The Disappeared
Finished: June 8
Pages: 235

How do you write about unspeakable things? How do you put into words the loss and despair faced by the survivors, by those who lived through these atrocities, who have families who go through them? How do you say these things, so that people will stop talking and listen?How do you put the loss of thousands upon thoughts of people into words?

This is the struggle faced by people who want to write about the Holocaust, the Rwandan genocide, or the killings in Cambodia under Polpot. How do you write about something so violent, so horrible that it defies all speaking of it? Because in a way to put it in words is to acknowledge that human beings are capable of such violence. To put it in words limits the horror to the words on the page, and I don’t think that any words can truly encapsulate the systematic murders of any number of people, much less thousands upon thousands of people. Kim Echlin attempts to put the horror into words in the book The Disappeared.

She attempts to humanize the victims, to give faces to those who are now nothing but dust. She also attempts to give voice to the horror of the survivors, those who truly survived, and the walking dead to survived but not completely. For, as horrible as it is for those who are dead; the true pain is felt by those who keep living. “The tortured stay tortured. After the bodies were cleared, imagine what people had to do. Imagine the stench that clings” (103). Her unique blend of the far past, the recent past, and the present, jumping back and forth in the narrative, disorients the reader while also allowing the reader to feel the whirlwind romance of our narrator, Anne, as she meets, loves, loses, finds, and loses Serey, a Cambodian student and musician who is trapped in Canada after the closing of the Cambodian borders. When the borders re-open, Serey leaves without the much younger Anne to search for his family. Ten years later, Anne follows his face, haunted by images on the television. Some aspects of this book I think were really well done. I like the impact of the occasional super-short chapter. Some of her prose is excellent, calling up emotions and images that perfectly capture a moment or feeling. For example, when talking about her childhood, being brought up by a single father, on page 11 she says:

When he read to me he sometimes looked at the black and white picture of my mother on my bedside table. The focus is soft on the young woman holding a baby, me, and our eyes are locked together. Papa’s voice would drift away and I learned to wait quietly until his attention flickered from the photograph back to the page. I think I began to read this way, studying the words in an open book, waiting for absence to be filled.

The only thing that really annoyed me was the narrator herself. Maybe I’m just not romantic enough to really think that if I had fallen in love at 16 with a man considerable older than me that ten years after he left me I would travel more than halfway around the world to track him down with no address, much less that I would learn a completely new language, brave a war-torn country that was dangerous to travel in, much less without any plan or contact. Sometimes the sap is just so overwhelming that it feels too romantic for a novel about genocide. “I saw the world more sharply with you, as if I had put on new lenses, the left a little stronger than the right, but worn together they shaped blurred edges into clear lines, There were moments I would have liked not to see so sharply. Borng samlanh,[my dearest darling] I wanted to know everything about you. I was young and but slenderly knew myself” (43). Or for example, the entirety of Chapter 45: “I can still see a particle of dust hanging in a sunbeam near your cheek as your slept” (135).

Overall, I think that considering the subject matter, Echlin did a superb job. I certainly couldn’t put the book down. Many parts of the book will stick with me, much like I can still remember many parts of the movie Hotel Rwanda for the same reason, they are too haunting to forget.

“Long ago, when they emptied Phnom Penh, closed the borders, people remembered things, the last time they slept in a bed, the last time they saw a loved one. There was that last telegram out of Phnom Penh before all lines to the outside world were cut: I ALONE IN POST OFFICE. LOSING CONTACT WITH OTHERS. I AM TREMBLING. HOW QUIET THE STREETS. NOWHERE TO HIDE. MAY BE LAST CABLE TODAY AND FOREVER” (170).

Good reading,
Caitlin

Books Thirty through Thirty-three: The Pagan Chronicles

Book Thirty: Pagan's Crusade
Finished: June 1
Pages: 256

Book Thirty-one: Pagan in Exile
Finished: June 2
Pages: 336

Book Thirty-two: Pagan's Vows
FInished: June 3
Pages: 336

Book Thirty-three: Pagan's Scribe
Finished: June 3
Pages: 368

Okay, as you might remember (or as you read below) I read Babylonne without realizing that it was a sequel to this series, so I decided to read the rest of them to see if I liked it better afterward. The answer is certainly "yes." There is something endearing about Pagan, the young Christian Arab who grows up in Jerusalem during the medieval Crusades, and the fall of Jerusalem to Salahadin. Pagan becomes a squire to a young Templar knight named Roland, and the first three books are told from Pagan's point of view as they adventure from Jerusalem to the south of France. My favorite book, however, is Pagan's Scribe, the fourth, partially because it introduces a new character, Isidore, who I had met previously in Babylonne. The endearing quirks of Pagan's character, the amusing sarcasm that is his irreverant nature, and contrasting deep love for his friends is much more apparent from an outsider's perspective. While I think that perhaps a teenager might enjoy these books more than I did, I certainly didn't hate them at all. They were funny, and the witty banter that Pagan keeps up, first with himself, then with Roland, and finally with Isidore, would be enough to keep me reading.

"Name?"
"Pagan Kidrouk, sir."
"Age?"
"Sixteen. Sir"
"Born in?"
"Bethlehem."
Rockhead looks up. The brain peeps out from behind the brawn.
"Don't worry, sir. It didn't happen in a stable."
Clunk. Another jest falls flat on the ground.

"Why did you leave?"
"It was the jokes, sir. In the guardroom. Not that I object to jokes as such. Some of my best friends are complete jokes. But I don't like leper jokes. Or dysentery jokes. Especially when I'm eating."

The grammar issues that I faced with Jinks' other writing is even more apparent here. The incomplete sentences, as well as multiple tangential phrases did at times make it difficult to keep up. During battle scenes in the first book, and then in other times of fast action, it is hard to keep track of who is talking, but often seemed purposeful, since in the heat of the moment it would be difficult to keep track of what was going on in real life.
I think that the characters were well developed, and certainly Babylonne would have made so much more sense had I read these in order, but at the same time, I had a good time figuring out the mystery that was Pagan in the same way that Babylonne herself did, through a whole lot of digging. I wouldn't recommend this book to a really high-minded Christian, since there is quite a bit of blasphemy, but anyone with a decent brain between their ears would see that most of the irreverence is directed towards stupid characters rather than God. All in all, pretty hilarious, and I'm glad I wasted my days reading them.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Twenty-nine: Babylonne

Book Twenty-nine: Babylonne
Finished: May 31
Pages: 384

Okay, I'll be honest. I picked this up on a whim, when I was looking for the second book in the Mortal Instruments trilogy at the library. Since they didn't have the book that I was looking for, I decided to go with a random book that had intrigued me for a while. Since it's my last week in the library at school for three months, I've been picking up a lot of these books since they are fast reads and generally entertaining. Besides, if they aren't entertaining, I don't feel bad about just taking them right back downstairs.
So, I didn't realize that this book was part of a series when I first picked it up. It certainly stands on its own, but I will say this, it probably would make more sense if I had read the others first. The story is of a young girl named Babylonne who lives during the 1200's in France, and her travels of discovery, both of herself and her absent parents. My hope is that if I had read some of the other books I would have a better understanding of the culture and characters. Babylonne is a member of a sect of Christianity called Cathars, and knowing nothing about either that faith, or the politics of the time, I was lost for a vast majority of the book. The style of writing also takes some getting used to, as most of the book is written in a stream of consciousness style that interrupts itself interrupting itself. Very hard transition to make from the more straightforward narrative I had been reading the past few books. To be sure, Babylonne's voice is very apparent, and she does seem to come alive once you get past the first few chapters and get into the swing of things. She has an entertaining and sarcastic view of the world that certainly does not fail to amuse. For example, when describing her grandmother's snore she says "She has a snore like an armored corpse being dragged across dry cobblestones" (11). I mean, can you really be more descriptive?
I have many questions about her father, Pagan, who apparently is the main character in all the previous books. I think that these questions would be answered already had I noticed that there was a particular order to them. Whoops. Perhaps I will hold off all further judgment of the narrative and its plot holes until I have read the other books. After accustoming myself to the style of prose, I had a good enough time, but we shall see. I certainly enjoyed it enough to read the rest of the series.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Twenty-eight: Catching Fire

Book Twenty-eight: Catching Fire
Finished: May 28
Pages: 391

Okay, so I might have been less than truthful about The Hunger Games in my last post. It might seem that I was a bit ambivalent about my enjoyment of the book. I checked out the sequel before I left work on Friday, went home, and finished Catching Fire before I went to bed Friday night. I couldn't put it down. I had to know what was going to happen with the main characters, Katniss, Peela, and Gale, not to mention their families. I wanted to know what would happen to the games themselves, and where the author was going with this world and the people in it. This book certainly delivered. This second chapter fleshes out the consequences to the actions taken in the first book. I like that the book doesn't pull its punches. When violence is called for, violence happens. You can love characters and then watch them hurt and maybe even die. If your government is willing to hurt the public, then the public does get hurt. The author gives brilliant descriptions of costumes, scenery, and technology that really help the reader to get a foothold in a world that is both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Having a sequel allows the author to flesh out the details that had been left fuzzy: the government, the other districts, and everything else that wasn't really explained well in the first one.
I'm not going to lie to you, these books are a real thrilling read, and I hope that more people will go read them, if only to be able to recommend them to their students, or their children. They are better written than Percy Jackson, but obviously the world is much less developed than either that world or Harry Potter. While I still wouldn't highly recommend this book to those who don't like science fiction, they're totally worth it if you do like science fiction.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Twenty-seven: The Hunger Games

Book Twenty-six: The Hunger Games
Finished: May 28
Pages: 374

The Hunger Games is one of those books that so many people have talked about that I wasn't really sure whether I even wanted to read it or not. Books have a hard time living up to the expectations that others give. But, since it's the end of the school year, and one of the alternative end-of-year assignments was a book study over the book, I thought "what the heck" and checked it out of the library yesterday afternoon. I finished it in about 5 hours, if that is any indication of the quality of the narrative. It's not the best young adult novel out there, but the idea is interesting, and well written.
Here is the basic plot: America has been destroyed and rebuilt into 12 districts and a capital. The Capital keeps control over the districts by having the Hunger Games each year, where a boy and a girl from each of the twelve districts engage in a fight to the death on live television, and there can be only one winner. Sixteen year old Katniss Everdeen takes her twelve year old sister's place in the Hunger games, and then must prove to herself and the world whether she can survive.
The idea of The Hunger Games in general reminds me of a few other things, this Japanese book that I can't remember the name of, and "The Lottery." It was a good read, and I definitely recommend it to anyone who likes dystopian novels.
Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Twenty-six: City of Bones

Book Twenty-six: City of Bones
Finished: May 27
Pages: 485

Okay, so I've seen these books on the shelves at the library and the bookstores for a few years now. Many of my students have recommended them to me, but I've never gotten around the actually reading one of them until now. To be perfectly honest, I was concerned that it would turn into another Twilight fiasco. I just don't see that much in the way of decent fantasy written these days, much less written for young adults. It tends to be either horrible trite or overly juvenile. I was pleasantly surprised by this book. I am not going to tell you that it is the greatest thing since sliced bread or anything, but definitely not as bad as the covers would perhaps make you suspect.
Although the premise (teenage girl discovers that she is "different" is drawn into a world where nothing is as it seems/discovers her secret past/powers/family she's never known) is as old as fantasy itself, the writing is interesting and humorous when it needs to be, and the description is vivid and appealing. If you like fantasy you wouldn't completely waste your time this summer reading it by the pool, but don't feel like you'd be really missing out if you read something else instead.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Twenty-five: People of the Book

Book Twenty-five: People of the Book
Pages: 372
Finished: May 23

This novel, written by Geraldine Brooks, tells the story of a haggadah, a Jewish prayer book, and the various people whose lives have intersected it in some way. While the novel is inspired by a true story, our fictitious frame story is that of Hanna, the Australian rare book expert who is called in to restore the Sarajevo Haggadah. She collects evidence from the book itself, pictures, stains, the binding, the clasps, even a butterfly wing, and uses this evidence to piece together the forgotten history of this book's travels across Europe. Each clue is then given a voice in its own chapter that addresses what "really" happened that caused that stain or picture to appear. The narratives fit together seamlessly, and travel backwards: beginning with the most recent stories and traveling back to the time to when only the pictures had been made and the book was not even a book yet.
Hanna's story is interesting; she meets and has an affair with the man who rescued the haggadah during the bombing of Sarajevo, deals with a distant and unloving mother, uncovers mystery upon mystery, both about the novel and about herself.
I was reminded most often of The Red Violin, a movie that came out in 1999. The idea is similar, a frame story of an expert trying to uncover the truth about a priceless artifact, and not all is as it seems. The ending of the book is quite a bit different, but there is certainly that air of mystery that pervades the novel as well. Many of the stories are heartbreaking, and it is remarkable that the real Haggadah survived similar circumstances.
The most poignant part of the story, to me, is that the real book, just like in the novel, is rescued under dangerous conditions not by a Jew, but by a Muslim librarian, who snuck into the library at night during intense shelling to reclaim and hide the haggadah in a bank vault until the violence ends. It seems a miracle that the manuscript could survive so much, and tell the story of so many different people.

I wanted to give a sense of the people of the book, the different hands that had made it, used it, protected it. I wanted it to be a gripping narrative, even suspenseful. So I wrote and rewrote certain sections of historical background to use as seasoning between the discussion of technical issues. I tried to give a sense of the Convivencia, of poetry parties on summer nights ain beautiful formal gardens, of Arabic-speaking Jews mixing freely with Muslim and Christian neighbors. Although I couldn't know the story of the scribe or the illuminator, I tried to give a sense of each of them...I wanted to build up a certain tension around the dramatic, terrible reversals of the Inquisition and the expulsion. I wanted to convey fire and shipwreck and fear.

I am really looking forward to finding and reading other books by Geraldine Brooks, especially March, a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel inspired by Little Women. Her prose is excellent and hard to put down. I can only hope that her other novels are as good.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Twenty Four: The Chosen One

Book Twenty Four: The Chosen One
Finished: May 10
Pages: 213

I read this book because the author, Carol Lynch Williams, is coming to school tomorrow and Lydia told me that I should read it. Now, I understand that Mrs. Williams writes young adult literature (emphasis on the young) so I am giving her some leeway about this book, The Chosen One.
For all I can understand the sentiment of being against the kind of fundamentalist mindset that is apparent within the first pages of the book. The black and white nature of the author's point of view and characterization of this group and these men was overbearing, and occasionally too preachy for me to handle. Although the book was written for 12/13 year olds, I think that is an appropriate time to kids to start seeing that not all the world is cut and dry.

These are the things that I really liked about the book: the format of the text, the voice of the main character, that the author didn't pull her punches as far as the violence and consequences. I did not get that the message of the book was about all cults, I really only focused on those crazy people living in West Texas, and in Utah.

Meeting the author did make me like the book a little bit more, knowing that it was partially based on true events, but not enough that I would really recommend them to anyone over the age of 13.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Twenty Three: The Secret of Lost Things

Book Twenty Three: The Secret of Lost Things
Finished: April 30
Pages: 349

I must be on some kind of Australian kick. This novel is the story of Rosemary Savage's search for identity and her father, who leaves her native Tasmania after the death of her mother, and travels to New York City. She finds work at a mystical-seeming used and rare book store called the Arcade. The story revolves around a lost manuscript of Herman Melville, and if I was going to be honest with myself, I would not have read this book because I do not care at all for Melville or his huge crush on an author I dislike even more: Hawthorne. Rosemary seems to collect strange and unusual characters, her landlady who ran from Argentina after her son became one of the desaparecidos, "the disappeared" who protested against the corrupt Argentine government; the halfway-through-a-sex-change Pearl, who longs to be an opera singer; Walter Geist, an albino who falls in love with Rosemary, but only gives her the creeps.
It seemed as though the author bit off a bit more than she could chew, and each character suffered for not being exposed to enough light. Her prose was at times delightfully complex and at other times flat and lifeless, as if she were trying too hard.

Here is a quote I found delightful:

"The books housed in one's first adult bookshelf are the geological bed of who we wish to become. And when I think of my few acquisitions, I have to admit how fiercelythe autodidact struggles for her educastion, and how incomplete that education remains. How illusory is any accumulation of knowledge!" (106)

All in all, I wouldn't bother with it, unless you were interested at all in Melville.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Twenty Two: The Spell Book of Listen Taylor

Book Twenty Two: The Spell Book of Listen Taylor (and the Secrets of the Family Zing)
Finished: April 28
Pages: 479

Okay, so I had heard a lot about the book The Year of Secret Assignments, but never got around to reading it. I didn't even realize that this book was written by the same person until I was quite a ways into it. When my students were at the library choosing books to read, I happened to see this one and thought "Huh, that looks interesting."
I"m not going to say that my initial reaction was wrong, but man, this book was a trip, totally different than I was expecting. Not just because it was written by an Australian, and therefore was a little bit of a culture shock, or because it took me about 100 pages to realize that the setting was Australia, and that was why I was so confused, and then that it was also

Some of the characters I absolutely loved. I adored Listen, and the middle school girl I once was identified totally with the struggles that Listen went through with the horrible girls at her school: Not understanding why the girls don't like her, thinking that it was something that she did, rather than just those girls being awful bitches.
I found the Zing family to be a little too quirky to really appreciate. As much as I enjoyed the craziness of the Zing Family Secret, in the end, it was just too unbelievable for me to really accept. Some of the characters I really enjoyed, but by the end of the novel I just found them to be obnoxious. After a while, I think I just expect people to act like normal human beings, or at least, that they would change and grow as characters. The other main character in the book, a second grade teacher named Cath Murphy, I originally liked quite a bit too, but she made one bad decision after another, and in the end I had little respect for her.
Part of the reason why I decided to read this book was this interaction between two of the characters on the first page:

"Little alien starships! Putting your elevator shafts on our--" She stopped as she reached the wall, and stared at its smooth surface.
"It was just here--" She turned back to Nathaniel, who was waiting patiently.
"Yes?" he prompted.
"Huh."
"Are you awake now?"
"I was sleepwalking."
"I know"
They both stood still in the moonlight.
"It's hot, isn't it?" said the woman, after a moment. "I wonder if we should--"
"It depends on whether Listen is awake," agreed the man, peering into the hallway.
"Yes." The woman raised her voice slightly. "I wonder if she is awake?"
"COULD SHE BE AWAKE?" boomed the man.
"I HOPE WE HAVEN'T WOKEN HER!" shouted the woman.
They both paused hopefully.
A twelve-year-old girl appeared in the hallway, linking into the darkness.
"Hot, isn't it?" said the girl.

The three characters then proceed to break into a middle school swimming pool, and go for a midnight swim. Quirky! I would probably recommend this book to my students, but I'm actually not sure how many, since thinking back, there were several parts of this book are a little more risque then I have perhaps mentioned in my review. Several affairs, and more sexual innuendo than would generally be present in an American young adult book.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Twenty One: The Truth-Teller's Tale

Book Twenty One: The Truth-Teller's Tale
Finished: April 27
Pages: 276

I've read a few other Sharon Shin books this year and they never disappoint. They are just what you expect: rousing fantasy with interesting and inventive magic, a few solid twists and turns of plot and a happily ever after that is moderately transparent without being overly sentimental.
Sometimes a girl just needs a happy ever after, and I was happy for these mischievous and sweet twin main characters. Mirror twins Adele and Eleda are girls gifted with the abilities Secret-Keeping and Truth-Telling, talents that get them in and out of all sorts of trouble, as well as in and out of love.
The book reminds me a lot of Robin McKinley's Beauty (my favorite of all the re-tellings of fairy tales) both in the voice of the narrator and the action being centered around everyday activities.
All in all, a delight.
Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Twenty: Mudbound

Book Twenty: Mudbound
Finished: April 20th
Pages: 340

There are no words to express the anger, frustration, tears, and surprising hopefulness that I feel after finishing this book.

I will not even attempt to.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Nineteen: Readicide

Book Nineteen: Readicide: How Schools are Killing Reading and What You Can Do About It
Date Finished: April 15
Pages: 150

Throughout the courses and activities I underwent in preparation for teaching, I have read numerous books that have infuriated and depressed me, and books which have given me great joy and a renewed passion in teaching. I would certainly place this book at the top of the list of books that did both. I found this book to be alternately infuriating and inspiring. I agree whole-heartedly with the author on most points in the book, and certainly plan to incorporate these ideas into my future planning and classroom activities.
Readicide is defined as “the systematic killing of the love of reading, often exacerbated by the inane, mind-numbing practices found in schools” (1).
Kelly Gallagher is no moron; he gives real world examples and some pretty hard hitting studies to back up his assertions. I agree that the way we teach, and the interactions that our students have with books kills the love of reading in them. If we were to teach differently and have different goals-lifelong readers rather than good test takers-we would have the higher tests scores and students prepared for college and the real world. His strategies are things that would make intelligent, modern teachers say “duh.”
His first, and loudest claim is this: “Making sure every student has a book to take home to read is the single most important issue in our quest to develop young readers” (46). He asserts that Silent Sustained Reading in classrooms helps to foster students who like to read. Students should split their time 50/50 between high level challenging academic texts and high interest age-appropriate texts. I also like the idea of augmenting books with authentic real-world text. This means that even if they are reading a novel, the students are also assigned an “Article of the Week” that pertains to the real world around them that they read outside of class. As a teacher I am constantly surprised by how little my students know about the world they live in. These articles give students a glimpse of the world that they will soon by members of, and hopefully create active citizens.
High-stakes testing, teaching to the test, and teaching only test-taking strategies at the expense of real in-depth teaching are some of the problems that help lead to readicide. Over teaching and under teaching are also issues that he discusses, that I think will help be to balance my class discussions and activities in the coming years.
What is the real goal of education?
I would say that, as Sternberg says, we should emphasize the skills that would make our students “creatively flexible, responding to rapid changes in the environment; able to think critically about what they are told in the media, whether by newscasters, politicians, advertisers, or scientists; able to execute their ideas and persuade others of their value; and, most of all, able to use their knowledge wisely in ways that avoid the horrors of bad leadership, as we have seen in scandals involving Enron” (25).
Considering that Mr. Gallagher advocates not following set standards, that following curricular guides, and having students stop and dissect books leads to a lack of learning and turns students off of reading, I find it ironic that Wendy received this book from our English facilitator. He posits that while students need to read academic texts, they also need to learn how to achieve “reading flow”-the point in which you become immersed in what you are reading. “No student ever achieved reading flow from analyzing every nook and cranny of a complex work” (65). Instead he suggests that teachers frame texts, give them meaning before they begin reading, and focuses on the meaningful lessons rather than the trivial. Gallagher tells us not to give them excerpts but rather whole novels, because they need to learn how to read long texts because it affects the brain differently. When students see real value in reading “It’s not just a story; it’s an imaginative rehearsal for living a productive life as an adult” (79).
I’ve read a lot of Nancy Atwell’s books, including In the Middle, and The Reading Zone, and I learned more from reading her books than I did in any college class. Mr. Gallagher has many similarities, and he talks about her quite a deal in this book. I did enjoy having something familiar when he talks about several theorists that I haven’t even heard of. I do not, however, agree with him on the subject of classics. I do not believe that all books that are considered “classics” are inherently good books. Many of these books do not add anything to a classroom, and if they are not within the sweet spot of being difficult without being unattainable, there is no purpose in teaching them. I do agree with this: “I never focus on whether my students will like the books. Sure, I’d like my students to enjoy the books as much as I do, but it is important that they take away something valuable after wrestling with them” (93). The difference that I would stress in his statement, however, is that the teacher has to see the validity and importance in what they are teaching as well. If they don’t, then there is no reason to teach it; the students and the teacher will only be frustrated with the text and with each other.
There are so many other things that I would like to talk about, but I would really just be copying the entire stinking book into my blog, and that doesn’t really serve my purpose. Most importantly, this book has taught me so many strategies that I plan on implementing in my classroom next year. The book made me so angry, because we are doing our students such a disservice, but at the same time, inspired me to become a better teacher. “If we are to find our way again…we must find our courage to recognize the difference between the political worlds and the authentic worlds in which we teach, to swim against those current educational practices that are killing young readers, and to step up and do what is right for our students” (118).

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Eighteen: The Lace Reader

Book Eighteen: The Lace Reader
Finished: March 30
Pages: 385

I was drawn to this book when wandering around Borders with a 40% coupon burning a hole in my pocket. Since they didn't have the book that I wanted to buy, I thought I would just look around and pick up something that struck my fancy. The cover, of a woman standing in water, with lace around the edges of the book, was intriguing, and reminds me a lot of other books that I have read and enjoyed in the past, mostly the ones by Alice Hoffman (Don't judge, I was young!). In retrospect, I feel that I should have maybe looked a little further for a better book, maybe one that I would not have thrown across the room.
At first, and even up to half way through the book I really enjoyed the narration, the description, and the supernatural aspects of the book. The idea of reading lace: telling someone's fortune by looking at them through a veil of lace is interesting, and more unique than reading palms or Tarot cards. I also liked the atmosphere of Salem, with tourism encouraging witchcraft in a town that once killed "witches" although it could be an accurate depiction of Salem, I wouldn't know.
I will be perfectly honest with you. If you judge a book as "good" by your inability to put it down, then this book is certainly "good" by that standard. Usually when I say that I couldn't put the book down, at the end of the review I would talk about how much I liked the book and would recommend it to others. I literally could not stop reading this book, because I had to know more about what was going on. This book was often confusing, and ultimately made me so angry I couldn't think straight. At the end of the book I felt very betrayed, because although I had picked up on the fact that my narrator was unreliable (she admits to being in a psychiatric ward) I still did not expect the lies to be so all-encompassing. Honestly, I feel like I have read something similar a few years ago, where the narrator is such a liar that you don't even realize that whole characters are completely made up. It made me hate the narrator, because now I'm not sure what is and isn't real, and why some characters would be willing to die for her. It just didn't make sense.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Seventeen: The Sparrow

The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell
Finished: March 28
Pages: 405

I’ve been sitting here for about fifteen minutes just waiting to have the words to talk about this book without sounding ridiculous. After going a month of reading purely academic essays, and then reading the campy hilarity that was The Somnambulist, it was a definite change to read The Sparrow, a story of what would happen if we found life on another planet and wanted to contact that life. The religious aspect of the book is that the mission to this planet is funded and populated by several Jesuit priests, whose response to new life was “Let’s go meet ‘em” The book begins with Father Emilio Sandoz as the only survivor of the mission to this planet, and it takes until the very end of the book for him to tell his story, both in the “present day” of the book at an inquiry, and through flashbacks told through the eyes of the different mission members.
The hardest part of this book is that you fall in love with so many of the characters, but you also know form the very beginning that they are all going to die. This isn’t fair. If everyone is going to die, you should be able to create a space between you and the characters. You shouldn’t think to yourself “I would like to meet/be friends with/simply be like these people.” You shouldn’t like them, or laugh at their jokes or enjoy watching them fall in love. It’s not fair. And I did. I like all these characters, especially Anne and George Edwards, these mid-50-somethings who are just so outgoing and hilarious. Let me give some examples. The first comes from your first interaction between Anne and Emilio, who at this point is her Latin professor.

“Are you allowed out of your room at night?” she asked. “Or do all the cute ones like you have a curfew until they’re senile?”
He flicked the ash off an air cigar and waggled his eyebrows. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well, I considered suggesting that we shatter our vows and run away to Mexico for a weekend of lust, but I’ve got homework,” she said, shouting the last word, “because some sonofabitch Latin prof thinks we should learn ablative way too soon, in my humble opinion, so why don’t you just come over for dinner on Friday night?”
Leaning back against his chair, he looked up at her with frank admiration. “Madam. How could I resist an invitation like that?” he asked. And leaning forward, “Will your husband be there?”
“Yes, dammit, but he’s very liberal and tolerant person,” Anne assured him, grinning, “And he falls asleep early.”

Or this:
“And yet,” Emilio said, “you behave like a good and moral person.”
He expected an explosion and he got it. She threw her fork down with a clatter on the plate and sad back. “You know what? I really resent the idea that the only reason someone might be good or moral is because they’re religious. I do what I do,” Anne said, biting off each word “without hope of reward or fear of punishment. I do not require heaven or hell to bribe or scare me into acting decently, thank you very much.”

Sometimes all the characters seemed a bit contrived, that everything came together too easily and cleanly. It's just to convenient that they had everything they needed, and everyone they needed in order to take a spaceship many light years away to Alpha Centauri: a person to be the doctor, and the linguist, and the ship captain, and the person who found the songs through the radio waves in the first place-"turtles put on fenceposts" they called it in the book, and that, therefore, it must have been designed by God. The final question of the book is, if God was behind all the good things, was he also behind the many ways in which the mission went wrong? Emilio spends the entire book trying to keep the truth away from his Father Superior because, he fears, that the truth will make them lose their faith much as he seems to have lost his, although the other priests on the trip with him are convinced that Emilio may very well be a saint. And I can see why they would have thought that at the time, and why Emilio, after all his suffering, would rage against that label as much as he possibly could. The book reminded me a lot of the movie Contact, and Emilio's struggle did have some parallels.

It was a difficult and dense read, and the subject matter and horrors it contained did not make it easier. I do think that it is a good modern sci-fi twist on the question of what would happen if we were faced with a "New World" to encounter and explore. I could certainly see that we would have similar difficulties were this to actually happen. And I could certainly see the Jesuits standing ready to be the first to go.

At the very end of the book, we discover the reason for the title:
“Matthew ten, verse twenty-nine,” Vincenzo Guiliani said quietly. “ ‘Not one sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it.’ “
“But the sparrow still falls,” Felipe said.

And the sparrow was Emilio Sandoz, Jesuit priest from the slums of Puerto Rico, who survived when he would have wished to die, and who was forced to tell the story of how he found and then lost his faith, and in doing so came even closer to God.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Sixteen: The Somnambulist

Book Sixteen: The Somnambulist
Pages: 353
Finished: March 25

I really, really liked this book. I don’t think I can fully articulate why I liked this book so much, but god, it was just so entertaining. Just as the narrator says on the very first page, “Be warned. This book has no literary merit whatsoever. It is a lurid piece of nonsense, convoluted, implausible, peopled by unconvincing characters, written in drearily pedestrian prose, frequently ridiculous and wilfully bizarre.”, but that doesn’t stop it from being a wildly entertaining page turner that was methodically researched and ridiculously funny. There came a point that I was glad my students were reading articles just so I could finish the thing. I loved all the literary allusions: Coleridge, and Shelley, and Wilde. Not to mention that I was thinking of Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock Holmes doing magic for the entire book. I don’t think that I can tell you all the things that I loved without spoiling the mystery of the book completely.
Oh wait, I forgot, I don’t care about spoiling things for you, my illustrious fans, because, to be honest, you have all read the book.

Anyhow, I loved the narrator, and I loved the narrator’s twisting nature. When you find out the true identity of the narrator? I nearly dropped the book and my jaw, I almost yelled out loud. I wasn’t expecting it at all. I think mostly because I was reading without really thinking about the bigger picture, instead just enjoying being wound up in the mystery. There were many times when I stared at the book in confusion but then it always resolved itself, though I am still confused about so many things, but we will talk about that in a bit.

Here are some of my favorite parts of the book:
On page 194, I love this exchange between Inspector Merryweather and Mr. Moon:
“Coleridge,” Moon said mysteriously.
“Is there some significance?”
“Are you a poetry-lover, Inspector?”
“Not seen a word of the stuff since school.”
“Then at least you’ve learnt one valuable lesson today.”
“What’s that?”
“Read more.”
Later that evening, lulled by the rhythmic snoring of his wife, just as he was about to go to sleep, Inspector Merryweather would think of rather an amusing retort to this. But he would know that the moment had passed, and would roll over instead and hope for pleasant dreams.

I also loved the tone of voice that the narrator employs:
“Forgive me if the above sounds condescending—I add this last detail only for the benefit of the ignorant and for tourists. I should hope my readers educated enough to recognize the significance of Wren’s achievement without it being explained to them, but regrettably it remains the case that one must always make allowances for dullards. I cannot police the readers of this manuscript and it is a sad and tragic truth that I have never yet succeeded in underestimating the intelligence of the general public” (92). I mean, how great is that? I also love that he blatantly lies to the reader on more than one occasion, and I find myself liking characters either in spite of his warnings, or because of his little warnings throughout the book. For example, when he says that we will like the albino before the end of the book, I find myself liking him in spite of his proclivities toward arson and intimidation. I also found myself liking Mr. Moon, himself, just to spite the narrator.

The characters of Hawker and Boon were disturbing and twisted, and yet I found the Prefects to be very funny, which it would seem, would be quite the mistake to make were I to ever meet these two characters. They were easy to picture, and they were easy to see as the dues ex machina that even they professed (accurately, I might add) to be.

I enjoyed Mr. Cribb, whose very existence confuses and baffles me much as it did Mr. Moon. Is the ugly little man the spirit of the city, or something else entirely? Why does he live life backwards? I don’t know and I dearly wish to, much as I feel about many parts of the book. Why are so many things left unexplained? Like Barrabas, and how he once was Moon’s partner, and then the Fiend? Why is the book called The Somnambulist? Who is the Somnambulist anyway? What was up with the end of the book. I need explanations, Mr. Barnes! I want to know so much more, but instead we get all these little glimpses into all the little lives of all these little characters that, in the end are either completely valuable and you are glad to know them, or they are completely invaluable, and you never know until the very end.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Thirteen: A Reliable Wife

Book Thirteen: A Reliable Wife
Pages: 304
Date Finished: February 4

Book club finished about an hour ago, so here is my review.

I am surprised that the cover of this book was not a picture of a woman with heaving bosoms and a shirtless man with abnormal abdominals. Once the author ceased to explain the raving lusts of our main characters, and settled down to the mystery of would she or wouldn’t she kill her husband, I rather enjoyed the book. Certainly it was full of detail, and description and everything else that a good historical mystery romance needs. Did the husband kill his first wife? How much of this was planned ahead of time? How did the son manage to find the father’s advertisement?
But there were many things about the book that I didn’t appreciate. I understand that a man wrote the book. I also understand that men think about sex a lot of the time. I do not really need this illustrated so violently or graphically. I don’t want to read about someone else’s dirty thoughts for a hundred pages. Or if I did, I would go to the romance section. I did like the reason behind his lustful thoughts; his mother was a crazy person. To not love a child because you can see the sin inside them, or to stab them with a pin to illustrate the suffering waiting for them in hell: that is just plain crazy. I can understand his predisposition towards sin with memories like that to begin his life with.
I can certainly admit that the writing in the book was captivating. I don’t have to like the story itself to appreciate the skill involved with writing something with that level of description and detail. And there were portions of the book where I was impressed by the insights that he was able to draw in these characters. For example, and the beginning of the book our heroine has this thought, which struck a chord with me, as well as many of the women in my book club:
“She believed in the miraculous. Or she had, until she reached an age when, all of a sudden, she realized that the life she was living was, in fact, her life…it shocked her now, like a slap in the face" (17).
However, when there are sections of text like this on page 151:

He put her hand on his sex and held it there. She felt it move beneath her hand, now soft, pliant as a fish, rising and falling like breath, “Swear.”
“I promise you.”
He got up, grabbed a towel and began to clean himself off. There was a wet pool in the bed where he had been. He never came inside her. He was terrified of children.

The twists and turns of the book are very transparent. You can see each revelation, and I didn’t find very many of them shocking even when they occur. I am glad that I read the book until the end, but the ending of the book is flat, and feels very rushed. I would have liked the book better if there had been more time given to the part of the story after Catherine’s return from St. Louis, and less given to the sexual repression and then sexual exploits of these characters.
I also think it would have been interesting to have the book narrated by different characters, rather than only Ralph and Catherine. Just an idea. It incited a lot of discussion from the book club, which to me is the mark of a good book club book, if not necessarily a book that I would give to other people.
As a side note, I just want to mention that I hate the interview portion in the back of books these days. It is dumb. I don’t really want to know these things about the author, and quite frankly often the author comes off as either pompous and self-absorbed, or they sound much less eloquent than their book. Both of these things are understandable, and I can’t blame the author either way. If someone cam to interview me right after I found out I was publishing a book I would be very excited to talk about my book and my ideas. And if I was put on the spot I would certainly sound less intelligent than I would in a book that I spent tons of time revising and fixing. Nevertheless, I wish that publishers would stop doing this. If I wanted to read more things from the author I would go to their website, or read other books.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Fifteen: Regeneration

Book Fifteen: Regeneration
Pages: 252
Finished: February 18

I suppose you could place this book in a similar category as Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo, for I was certainly reminded of that many times throughout the novel, but only in the consistant antiwar message of the novels, and the medical jargon used.
This novel explores the experiences of antiwar poet Siegfried Sassoon during the time when he was forced into a mental hospital rather than simply being court martialed for writing a declaration that the war "has become a war of aggression and conquest" rather than "a war of defense and liberation." He is declared insane and sent to a hospital in Edinburgh, Scotland, where he becomes a patient of Dr. William Rivers. While a patient there, he meets Wilfred Owen, who obviously worships Sassoon. I did like that the novel is told from several points of view, including Sassoon and Dr. Rivers.
Although well researched and very accurate of the times, I was at many different moments appalled at the techniques and opinions of the day. The idea of masculinity and duty and honor, and the stiff upper lip of Britain, in the face of such torturous experiences as those faced by the men who fought in the trenches made me feel a great deal of pity for these men, and the men who were trained to make them better and send them back to the place that broke them in the first place.
An interesting insight that Dr. Rivers had about the officers who were under his care and their relationships with the men in their command:

Rivers had often been touched by the way in which young men, some of them not yet twenty, spoke about feeling like fathers to their men. THough when you looked at what they did. Worrying about socks, boots, blisters, food, hot drinks. And that perpetually harried expression of theirs. Rivers had only ever seen that look in one other place: on the faces of women who were bringing up large famillies on very low incomes...It was the look of people who are totally responsible for lives they have no power to save.

I also enjoyed this quote by Ruth Head when Rivers is staying with she and her husband. Rivers is asking her advice about something, as well as the advice of her husband, a fellow psychiatrist,
"Is that what Henry thinks?"
Ruth laughed. "Of course not. You want perception, you go to a novelist, not a psychiatrist" (164).
I agree whole-heartedly that a novelist has greater insight into the human psyche than a psychiatrist, or at least the best novelists are also keenly aware of human interactions and motivations.
Since the book was supposedly about Sassoon, I don't feel that it did enough of a job focusing on his life and experiences; more than half the book was about Rivers, and most of the book was from Rivers' point of view. I also felt that the relationship between Owen and Sassoon was not focused upon hardly at all. I would have liked to see more from Sassoon's point of view about how he was inspired to write his poems, and the influence that he had upon Owen. I also would have liked for Sassoon's sexual proclivities and his relationships with Graves to have been more on the surface of things. Having the relationship so much an undercurrent rather than anything open made Graves' later announcement against it fall very flat. I understand the time didn't think much of homosexuality, and that the British are very reserved about romantic situations, but comparing their relationship to the relationship of one of the other patients at the hospital just makes it seem even more heartless.
I liked the book, but I can't say that I loved them. I'll probably read the other two books in the series: The Eye in the Door and The Ghost Road. My hope is that perhaps the other two books in the series will focus more on the poet and less on the psychology.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Fourteen: Outlander

Book Fourteen: Outlander
Pages: 627
Finished: February 6

While on a second honeymoon in Scotland following the end of World War II, Claire Beauchamp, an army nurse, takes a walk through the wilderness, finds a standing stone circle (think Stonehenge), and magically travels back in time 200 years. While stuck in the past, she falls in love with a young Highland warrior, and adventure ensues. This is a well written book, if a bit wordier than I would have liked. The historical accuracy is, as far as I can tell, pretty spot on. I did really enjoy the storyline. It was definitely in some ways a very stereotypical romance novel: the hero does have a delightful habit of showing up to save the day at the last possible moment, and without difficulty; the heroine is capable of saving many deathly illnesses without the modern conveniences of medicine or technology; and I can’t imagine that her more modern speech patterns (and Army nurse cursing) would be accepted quite that easily as they seem to be.
Claire’s husband, Frank, is also in Scotland to research his genealogical heritage, rooted in the area, and including a young Army Colonel named Jonathan Randall. Claire’s uncle, who raised her, was an anthropologist, which you think would make her ore interested in her husband’s scholarly work, but Claire instead decides to spend her time wandering over hill and dell looking at plants. In retrospect, when Colonel Randall becomes the main villain of the book, you curse Claire for her inattention to details that might have helped her out. What time she and Frank don’t spend talking about his ancestors, or quaint Scottish tradition, is spent in bed, reacquainting themselves with one another. This portion of the book seemed, when I was reading it, to take up quite a bit of the first section of the book, but upon re-examination, it turns out to only be about 30 pages before she travels back in time.
Claire spends much of the first few months in the past trying to get back to the stone circle that magically transported her, but when she is finally taken there, she suffers a few hours of internal struggle that seemed much less of a struggle than I anticipated (a few hours of soulfully staring at the rocks), and decides to stay in 18th century Scotland with her young Scottish hottie rather than return to her scholarly and loving husband.
I don’t know that I agree with Claire’s choice. Perhaps I have never been in this kind of love. Perhaps I couldn’t truly visualize how attractive and loving Jamie Fraser was. Maybe my imagination ran wild with the lack of proper sanitation and the violent tendencies of the people. Maybe the danger and romance of the situation made it more likely that Claire would choose to stay. I just don’t know that I would make the same choice, and that makes me less likely to appreciate the book as much as I wanted to.
All that aside, it was a well-written book. The description of the locations, characters, and action, as well as the character development was everything a girl could hope for in a time-travel romance novel. I enjoyed it, and might even read the sequel; even though it looks to be just as long, and I’m not really sure I’m ready for that yet.

Good Reading,
Caitlin

Book Twelve: Gwenhwyfar

Book Twelve: Gwenhwyfar
Pages: 404
Finished: January 30

Mercedes Lackey’s answer to The Mists of Avalon is an interesting look at the Arthurian legend through the eyes of Gwenhwyfar, a young Celtic warrior. I say interesting because Lackey found some interesting poetry that suggests that King Arthur actually married three different women over the course of his reign who were all named Guinevere. While the Welsh spelling of names drove me a little batty because I do not know how to pronounce them at all, the book itself was quite entertaining.
The premise, that Arthur had many wives with the same name, instead of one woman who did lots of different things, was a good idea. Chock full of facts about weapons, horses, battle strategies, and pagan beliefs, it was obviously well researched. I liked the narrative choice of a girl growing up during Arthur’s reign, and I liked the mystical additions. I don’t really like the Arthurian books that make it historically accurate, removing all vestige of romanticism and magic. I think that Arthurian legend isn’t worth reading unless there is a little magic in it. Even the movie, The Sword in the Stone, has magic in it, and you love Merlin for it.
Some of the characters were quite a bit more different than I was expecting and I didn’t like that. Was it sad to see the Merlin made into a bad guy, or at least a not so perfect wise man? Certainly. I also love this quote from the Afterword by the author “I think every fantasy writer decides at one point or another to tackle ‘the matter of Britain,’ otherwise known as the legend of King Arthur” (402). I think this is often the case, many authors seem to have spent some time with “the matter of Britain” these days.
Although I am partial to The Mists of Avalon myself, I did find this an interesting take on the subject.
Is the book perfect? Certainly not. I found many of the characters to be confusing to compare with the stories that I know, mostly due to the Welsh names, but also since the main character didn’t actually meet Arthur until late in the book, she doesn’t actually see many of the things that I would have recognized. Another problem that I had was the stereotypical characterization of many of the characters; evil characters are all evil; the heroine knows the bad guy from an early age; the good characters are wise and make astonishing, world-altering decisions.
Overall, I found the book an enjoyable romp through medieval Britain. A new idea, and a new way of looking at Arthur. I’d probably only recommend it to people who liked The Mists of Avalon and other books of it’s ilk, but I would recommend it, which is saying something.

Good Reading,
Caitlin