Remember when I used to write about books on a fairly frequent basis? Remember when I wrote I was going to start writing entries about books individually in an effort to get me back in the habit of reviewing them? And then I stopped writing about them altogether?

Um, yeah. Here’s an effort at starting to catch up. I read this back in January…

The Heroines by Eileen Favorite

From the jacket: “Although a true lover of books, Anne-Marie Entwhistle prefers not to read to her spirited daughter, Penny, especially from the likes of Madame Bovary, Gone with the Wind, or The Scarlet Letter. These novels, devoted to the lives of the Heroines that make them so irresistible, have a way of hitting too close to home — well, to the Homestead actually, where Anne-Marie runs the quaint family-owned bed and breakfast…. Penny and her mother encounter great women from classic works of literature who make the Homestead their destination of choice just as the plots of their tumultuous, unforgettable stories begin to unravel. They appear at all hours of the day and in all manners of distress…. Knowing that to interfere with their stories would cause mayhem in literature, Anne-Marie does her best to make each Heroine feel at home, with a roof over her head and a shoulder to cry on. But when Penny begins to feel overshadowed by her mother’s indulgence of each and every Heroine, havoc ensues and the thirteen-year-old embarks on a her own memorable tale.”

My take: The concept of the story — a 1974 middle-America home set during the hear of the feminist movement where female protagonists from across the realms of literature stop for some rest and relaxation in the home of three women (the Entwhistle mother and daughter and their German-born housekeeper, Gretta) — is a strong one.

Add to that back story, though, the fractious coming of age of a teenage girl, and things start to unravel. Penny runs off into the woods to escape a mother who simultaneously pays too much and not enough attention to her. While there, she encounters a wild, unknown stranger who piques her interest. She knows he’s in search of one of the Heroines. No one quite knows how to reasonably explain that to the police her mother called in her fright — and a hospital visit and incarceration in a mental facility ensue.

Combining these overlapping tales felt awkward and didn’t work for me. While I understand the intent of the author, it felt like the book lost momentum after Anne-Marie allows Penny to be locked up. I’d give this one a pass.

Pages: 233

You may have noticed: My plan to wrap up reviews of books read in 2008 and begin on those I’ve read so far in 2009 derailed before we got out of the train yard. I still plan on catching up… Here’s hoping it’s sometime soon.

I read many of these stories in December and finished up early last month:

Miracle and Other Christmas Stories, by Connie Willis

From the jacket: “This enchanting group of eight tales … begins with the title story, ‘Miracle,’ in which an office worker hopes that her handsome colleague will finally notice her at the company Christmas party. But her carefully devised plans go awry when her guardian angel takes it upon himself to show her the true meaning of love…. A treasure to cherish anytime of the year, this collection boldly reimagines the stories of Christmas and serves as a testament to Connie Willis’s unique genius and skill in bringing the extraordinary to life while conveying the power of human compassion and love.”

My take: I’m pretty sure Connie Willis was a recommended author by some of you way back when, so when I discovered a brand new copy of a collection of holiday short stories by her on the freebie cart at work, I snapped it up.

Generally, I’m not a huge sci fi fan. I find it trends too much toward the dystopian, which I find bleak and depressing. But if this collection of Willis’ is any indication of her other work, I may have to seek more out. These stories, which (mostly) took place in modern time where the supernatural (generally) isn’t expected, tended far more toward the hopeful than I had expected.

The book was comprised of eight stories, and I liked five of them. Three just weren’t my speed, rather than being bad. “Cat’s Paw,” a Sherlock Holmesian murder mystery features talking apes and a biotech lab on Christmas Eve. “In Coppelius’s Toyshop” is about a mean fellow who gets a deserved, if dark, punishment for his outlook on life at an FAO Schwartz-like store. And “The Pony” also seemed a little creepy — making Santa seem more like a stalker than a kindly elf.

Luckily, those three were overshadowed by the other pieces. “Adaptation” is about a divorced bookseller whose seasonal colleagues include Marley and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. “Newsletter” takes on a much mocked Christmas tradition. In it, Nan boasts of the month she’d just had, when everyone around her (except a coworker or two) became eerily cheerful — and started wearing hats. “Miracle” is another office drama. At the office, Lauren is pining for some attention from the hunk down the hallway, hoping he’ll finally notice her at the annual Christmas party. In the meantime, at home, she’s being terrorized by a surfer dude guardian angel, sent by her sister, who wants her to toss her pre-printed holiday cards and prewrapped generic gifts and find the joy of the season embodied by her favorite Christmas movie.

The two best stories, though are “Inn” and “Epiphany.” Oddly enough, both are religious stories. In the former, a choir member at a rehearsal for the Christmas Eve service finds herself at odds with the associate minister of her church on the issue of the homeless and the definition of charity. The story follows what happens when she lets in two young drifters.

In “Epiphany,” Mel, a minister, has abandoned his congregation because of a sudden insight that Christ has arrived for the Second Coming and is in need of him. He battles his own doubts, his agnostic best friend’s concern, winter blizzards, and traffic woes, as he heads west on his pilgrimage. His journey is made only more absurd by the unseasonal caravan of carnival trucks he seems to be following. Yet, “Epiphany” is the story that sticks with me the most. That could be because it’s the final story of the collection. Or because its own ending is the most ambiguous of the bunch. But I think it’s because its characters’ quest parallels our own quest for meaning in the modern world.

A great collection. I’ll be keeping this to re-read during future holiday seasons.

Pages: 328

Hillary invited folks to discuss books by posting a survey result and a meme on her blog. It was about books. How could I resist?

It’s true. They do.
(more…)

…with the library.

Earlier this month (well, technically it’s last month now, since the clock has switched past midnight, but let’s go by my old college definition that it’s not tomorrow until you’ve slept…), I took back some overdue library books, paid my tithe, and returned to the good graces of the DCPL. They are truly the most forgiving folks. They know — every record indicates it — that I will be truant probably 75% percent of the time when I borrow from them. I am perhaps less tardy than I once was now that they email me notices that my books are about to come due, are due today, and are now overdue, but, nonetheless, I cannot seem to grasp deadlines, or, at least, to take them seriously enough to meet them in polite society.

So, to return to my tale, the library workers took down my Most Wanted poster, tore it up, and offered me their entire store of goods. I was restrained … that day. Only two books hopped in my bag and insisted on riding home with me. I read one over the course of a few days. It was okay, but not good enough to be read straight through on its own. The other merited a chapter in the bathroom, but was not interesting enough to come off the cart in there. Don’t worry. I always read to the chapter around the 50 page mark before swearing off. What if an author, like Michael Chabon, is brilliant but inadequate at introductions?

I could see the winter nights looming large in front of me. Once the Christmas tree comes down, things just get … harder. They are less difficult this year, but that doesn’t mean the days flow before me like water. They just don’t freeze me in place with ice.

So I hopped online and started requesting some books. Some were books I’d read about on the web, recommended by online friends whose opinions I respect. Others had made the list of contenders for the Rooster Tournament sponsored by The Morning News. I’ve watched passively by the last two years as the books face off one against the other — and it was rare that I had an opinion, since I hadn’t read most of the nominees. Obviously others had similar grouses, since this year they announced the list early so folks could make a stab at reading more. I’ve requested all the books on the list that had waiting lists, so, of course, the library emailed me this week to announce that eight of them had arrived and were waiting for me at two different branches.

So much for trying to outfox the library.

I picked up the books at the main branch on Thursday and added another tome (written by a fellow Conn alum) and three dvds to the haul. (Erik, you’ll be glad that one of those is The Queen. I know you considered it a flaw in my character that I hadn’t seen it yet.) I was in the midst of finishing a mystery Gramma had lent me at the time, so I didn’t start a new book until yesterday — and picked the Conn book merely by the fact that it was the thinnest fiction of the group to take to work with me yesterday.

It’s good, but not great. And I knew that while I’d probably stick with it, it wasn’t what I was searching for.

Late this afternoon, Rudi and I headed out to Virginia to run some errands, stopping by the hardware store and the branch library closest to the Burrow on the way out. Four more books came into my possession. And, as they did, I recalled that in the first bunch was a book I’d heard such good things about that I’d almost bought it as a Christmas present (for you, Karen) without reading it. I’ve done it once before — with The Book Thief and The Thirteenth Tale — but wasn’t sure if I should trust to the fates twice.

I started the book when Rudi went to bed. I forced myself to pause a couple of times — mostly to make tea — but could not put it down for good tonight until 3 a.m. And really I’d read through until dawn if I didn’t think I really ought to see the sun tomorrow.

And, no, I’m not going to tell you what book it is. I have to decide if I should head to Powells first and buy hardcover copies to send to you all…

It’s that good.

Aren’t libraries great?

If you haven’t read Pride and Prejudice and don’t want the plot spoiled, skip this link. Otherwise, have fun!

My goal for the four-day weekend is to find all the books I finished in 2008 and to write quick reviews of them for the blog. In the meantime, I’ve decided for 2009 that I’m going to write the reviews one at a time in the hope that I’ll be better about blogging about them in a timely fashion.

Of course, I just finished book #3 for the year today. But let’s proceed as we mean to go on:

The Sisters Grimm: The Fairy-Tale Detectives, by Michael Buckley

From the jacket: “For Sabrina and Daphne Grimm, life hasn’t been a fairy tale. After the mysterious disappearance of their parents, the sisters are sent to live with their grandmother — a woman they believed was dead! Granny Relda reveals that the girls have two famous ancestors, the Brothers Grimm, whose classic book of fairy tales is actually a collection of case files of magical mischief. Now the girls must take on the family responsibility of being fairy-tale detectives. Their first case? A roller-coaster ride of an adventure to stop a giant from destroying their new hometown.”

My take: As those of you who have read these book reports before will already know, I love literary adaptations, particularly those of a fairy tale nature. Shannon Hale and Jasper Fforde are favorites of mine because they can take material we all know backwards and forwards and make it fresh again. So when I saw this series a few years ago, I made note of it and promised I’d get back to it. And I have.

Buckley is not as talented as either Fforde (who writes for adults) or Hale (whose adaptive work is predominantly aimed at the younger set), but the first in the series of sister mysteries suggests he is adept enough that I’d like to keep reading. Each girl has an authentic personality. Sabrina, who’s nearly 12, is protective of her younger sister and masterminds their escapes from all sorts of unsuitable foster homes, while Daphne, at a mere seven, already knows that the way to get around her sister is to pretend to humor her.

When crazy things start happening around them, Sabrina is ready to bail, understandably believing that the woman who claims to be their grandmother is another huckster they need to flee. After all, pixies don’t really exist; those had to have been a particularly nasty swarm of mosquitoes. And it’s much more likely that there was a freak earthquake that flattened that farmer’s house rather than a giant.

But when the woman claiming to be their grandmother and her friend, Mr. Canis, are kidnapped right before their disbelieving eyes, it seems like there’s nothing for the girls to do but start trusting their street-smarts and get to work figuring out the mystery. Along the way they’ll have to get past the likes of Mayor Charming, Police Chief Hamstead and his two porky deputies, Jack (who hasn’t outsmarted a giant in years), neighbor Puck, and other refugees from bedtime tales to solve the case. But will they be in time?

I think kids in the 6-12 range would enjoy this story, so if you’re looking to buy for that age group, consider this series. The copy I read includes a reader’s guide that encourages kids to write their own fairy tales — either on their own or as a group activity — and to check out the original source material.

Pages: 284