I Love You, Beth Cooper by Larry Doyle

I know what you're thinking. "I thought Abby was dead or struck illiterate or something. Isn't she a workaholic who's busy neglecting her family and friends? Where does she find time to read?!?!"

Good question. I blame Meg of A Practical Wedding. I went to her book talk (for a completely different book, obviously) last Thursday in Atlanta and took the following day off work. Thus I had an entire Friday with nothing to do other than nurse a hangover. And read as it turns out.

Now, if you've ever consumed more Jack Daniels than is strictly advisable, you know that heavy thinking is not on the agenda for the following day. I wandered around the house avoiding eye contact with my Kindle (home of 2/3rds finished The Count of Monte Cristo) and hoping to find a copy of People Magazine. Instead I snuck up to the "To-Read" shelf and noticed I Love You, Beth Cooper. My husband had purchased and enjoyed it some years ago and I have been not reading it ever since.

So I read it in a day while sipping Perrier and eating an entire loaf of dry french bread. (What? That's a doctor recommended hangover diet.) A quick googling reveals that the author, Larry Doyle is a former writer for both Beavis & Butthead and The Simpsons. This comes as no surprise. The book is quite funny and the teen characters are both angsty and awkward in the best way. Ever chapter starts with a sketch of the protaganist, Dennis Cooverman (The Coove!), who becomes more beaten and brutalized with every scene, and a quote from a classic teen movie. Any book that quotes Lloyd Dobler is okay by me.

It's beyond easy to see why this book was made into a movie. Doyle's television sensibility comes through with vivid action sequences that I imagine translate well to film. I'll definitely be adding this to my Netflix queue. After I saw the movie poster I remembered that the movie stars Hayden Panettiere, but while I was reading I couldn't stop picturing Dianna Agron. Same diff?

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

I finished The Book Thief on Saturday, and I've been trying to figure out how to write about it ever since. I enjoyed the audiobook immensely. Allan Corduner's performance is fantastic, and listening to his performance may actually have made me more emotional than had I read the paper version of the book.

I wanted to include some quotations from the book in my review, because Markus Zusak's writing is very lyrical. Some could argue that it's overly-flowery, but I think it works, especially considering our narrator. However, since I listened to the audiobook, it's hard to actually remember the quotes I liked, since it's not like I can just bookmark the page and come back to it later. I tried googling for quotes, but most of the good quotes I found were all super spoilery. So you'll just have to live without examples of Zusak's prose.

The Book Thief is told from the perspective of Death. An appropriate narrator for a book that takes place in Germany during World War II. Death is a compassionate and actually quite witty narrator. Death tells the story of Leisel Meminger, the titular book thief. The first book Leisel steals is The Gravedigger's Handbook, which she finds in the snow next to her little brother's grave. She later goes on to steal a book out of a fire at a Nazi book burning, and a bunch of books from the wealthy mayor. Books are the most important things in Leisel's life, next to her best friend and next-door-neighbor Rudy, and her foster parents Hans and Rosa.

I don't want to spoil any of the plot of the book, but should you choose to read The Book Thief, I would recommend keeping a box of kleenex nearby. I'm just saying. I know it's hard to believe, but a book narrated by Death in Nazi Germany has some sad parts.

Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

Read by Debra Wiseman and Joel Johnstone

After my last audiobook, which was violent and difficult to listen to, I decided to pick a cheerier subject for my next listen. I picked Thirteen Reasons Why, which is about a teenage girl who commits suicide. I'm awesome at picking books.

In Thirteen Reasons Why, our protagonist is Clay Jensen. Two weeks after one of his friends, Hannah Baker, commits suicide, he receives a package in the mail (no return address) with 7 cassette tapes. When he plays the first tape he is shocked to hear the voice of Hannah Baker. Hannah made these tapes as a sort of suicide note. Each side of each cassette is about one person who directly or indirectly contributed to her decision to shuffle off this mortal coil. The first person mentioned on the tapes was the first to receive them, and when he's done he sends them on to the next person. Basically, if you receive the tapes, it's partially your fault. Well, sort of. Clay receives the tapes, but he didn't really do anything bad to Hannah. I was wondering how Jay Asher was going to keep the protagonist of his novel sympathetic after we find out how he contributed to a teenage girl's suicide. But since this is a YA novel, I wasn't really surprised to find out that Clay is a super good guy instead of an anti-hero.

It's an interesting book that focuses a lot on bullying, rumors, peer pressure, that sort of thing. There's a short discussion about what is or isn't rape that I found interesting. The phrase "victim blamer" is used at one point, which was awesome. My biggest problem with the book was the performance of Debra Wiseman, who performs Hannah's tapes in the audiobook version.

I'm not sure how it comes across while reading the book, but for several discs I had myself convinced that Hannah was punking everyone and didn't really commit suicide. I mean, it's specifically mentioned that there wasn't a funeral, so it wasn't impossible for her to have faked her death. (Yes, I was raised on Soap Operas, why do you ask?) The whole theme of rumors getting out of control actually could have contributed to my version of the story. But, no, Hannah really did die. Debra performs Hannah as being damn near cheerful on the first few "tapes," which was disconcerting when you consider that you're supposed to be listening to the voice of a girl who commits suicide just after finishing the recordings. The performance just didn't fit into what I imagine a depressed, suicidal teen sounds like. Also, she sounds kind of old. Maybe they wanted Hannah to sound like an old soul, I don't know. And she says "repercussions" in a way that sounds weird to me, and as you can imagine in a novel like this, "repercussions" is said quite often.

In case you're wondering: Audiobooks are pretty much going to dominate my posts for the foreseeable future. I'm in grad school, so all my reading time is dominated by book-learnin'. But, since I have a little over an hour commute each way to class, I can use that time to power through audiobooks for fun. I can pretty much knock out one disc each way. It's great.

Peep Show by Joshua Braff

Braff's Peep Show is a strange read. I didn't love it, it left a bit too much unresolved. Not in that "it makes you think" way but in a "and then he stopped writing" way. But it is an interesting story full of bizarre, flawed characters and it definitely dropped me into unfamiliar territory. I think this one sentence from Amazon's summary pretty much sums it up: In the mid 1970s, 16-year-old David Arbus is caught between his mother, whose Hasidic faith is becoming more and more central to her life, and his father, who runs a Times Square porn theatre.

So basically young David is thrashed back and forth between these two strange and polar opposite worlds, neither of which seems like a healthy environment for a young man. He's essentially unwelcome in his mother's life because he's refused to join the Hasidic faith, but he's not sinner enough to want to jump into the family business on dad's side either. David and his father cause a bit of a rukus and David is unceremoniously ousted from his mother and sister's new life and forced to take up with his father and his father's stripper/former porn star girlfriend. The book sticks pretty closely to the major events in the father's life over a 3-year period, but only as they're experienced by David, which feels odd. There's a lot of insight into changes in the porn industry in the mid-70s and also into the lives of Hasidic Jews. A jarring comparison to say the least, and an interesting one.

I was disappointed with the ending which resolved nothing (even negative resolution would have been more satisfying), but it's an interesting read from a young author. Braff has a good voice and an enjoyable writing style. His characters are well-developed and believable in their strengths and flaws. I'm thinking of picking up his first novel, The Unthinkable Thoughts of Jacob Green.

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

The Help is not a bad book, but it does deserve some criticism for falling into the "White Savior" trope. One of the three main characters in the book is Eugenia "Skeeter" Phelan, who has just moved home to Jackson, Mississippi after completing her college degree. She wants to be a writer, and eventually she gets the idea to write a book about what it's like for black women working as maids for white families. She enlists the help of her friends' maids, Aibileen and Minny, and eventually 10 more maids join. And they write the book, change the names, publish it anonymously, and everyone lives happily ever after. Well, that last part isn't 100% true.

I can see why this book became so popular with reading groups. It's a really quick read (downloaded it to my Nook from the library Thursday night, finished it this afternoon) and there's really no controversial material. I mean, it's clear who is right and who is wrong. These characters don't really have layers. The protagonists don't have any real flaws, and the antagonists don't have anything but flaws. Celia Foote probably has the most layers of anyone in the book, both good qualities and bad, and she's a tertiary character at best. The only controversy could be whether or not Minny actually put shit in Miss Hilly's pie. That is not a euphemism.

So, while it certainly wasn't a perfect book, it was enjoyable. This was Kathryn Stockett's first novel, and she clearly shows talent for pacing and an ability to tell a story. This wasn't exactly a mystery or a thriller, but there were still times that I had to keep reading and reading just to find out what happened next. However, there were some stylistic choices that grated on my nerves. The book is told from three different perspectives: Skeeter, Aibileen, and Minny. Stockett writes Aibileen and Minny's chapters in a Mississippi accent, but not Skeeter's. Now I'm sure there was some dialect differences between society girls and the domestic help, but it really bothered me that the white girl apparently thinks and speaks in perfect standard English, while the black women speak like caricatures. There was also a moment in a chapter told from Minny's point of view where we get Skeeter's inner monologue. That's just sloppy writing, and something that should have been taken care of in the editing stage. She also does that thing that you see all the time in historical fiction where the writer points out something (for no reason) that was new or meaningless in the setting of the novel but has significance to the reader thanks to historical perspective. Like having Skeeter watch the news and hear about a conflict in Vietnam that probably won't last too long. Vietnam is never mentioned again and has absolutely nothing to do with the story. Writers just throw stuff like that in because they think it's clever, but more often than not it comes out clumsy.

I chose to read this book because my mom and grandma read it and really liked it, and I want to take them to see the movie when it comes out at the end of summer. It's not the best book I've ever read, but it was really good. I know I've kind of picked at the faults of the book a lot in this review, but I think it's a worthwhile read. A solid B, even a B+ in parts. I didn't live in Mississippi in the early '60s, so I can't tell you how accurate the storyline is or isn't. So if you're a nerd like me and you have to read the book before you see the movie, go ahead and pick up The Help. The trailer looks like the film will be a decent adaptation. I saw the trailer before reading, so I had the actresses' faces in mind while reading, and I think they did a decent job casting.

The Church of Dead Girls by Stephen Dobyns

Well. That was interesting. I picked this book off the library shelf because I was intrigued by the title. I thought it would be a simple whodunnit serial killer mystery, but it's really not. It's more about how the suspicion infects the members of a small town, and how it escalates as each girl goes missing. Also, it's very slowly paced, which isn't normally something I would expect from a mystery novel. But I don't read a lot of mysteries, so maybe the pace isn't actually that unusual.

While the pacing does help build the suspense, I really think the book could have been fifty pages shorter. I know the author was trying to give the reader a sense of the town, but honestly, at some point you just want to know who the killer is. And it took forever. By halfway through the book only one girl had gone missing.

The book starts with a prologue describing the room in which the girls' bodies are found. It sets a gloomy mood for the rest of the book. As each of the three girls go missing, you read about the parents and town members searching and praying for the girls' return, but you know the truth. The girls are dead, tied to chairs in someone's attic, dressed in weird decorated robes, surrounded by melted candles. It's the "church" of the title, and it's a very creepy mental image. The most suspenseful part of the book is wondering if Sadie, the young girl whom the narrator lives near, is going to be one of the dead girls.

The book really spends most of its nearly 400 pages describing how the anxieties and suspicions of a small town grow and grow. At first everyone assumes that it must be someone from outside of Aurelius, because certainly none of their friends or neighbors could have done it. As each successive girl disappears, the townspeople become more and more suspicious of anyone whom they perceive as different. It's really a great examination of how a small town turns on its own members. And the big reveal in the last few pages was definitely unexpected. I found myself thinking "how on Earth did these people live with this psycho and not suspect something was up?" And then I remembered that I live in a small town where a three-year-old was stolen out of her own home and murdered, and the president of our library board was convicted of possession of child pornography in Canada. Those incidents are unrelated, btw. There are evil people everywhere, even if you don't suspect them. Terrible things happen all the time. I mean, Criminal Minds has to get its plot ideas from somewhere, right?

The Graduate - Charles Webb

I picked up this classic several months ago at an antique store. I think I paid $2 for the 1963 hardcover edition. It has an inscription To Susie ~ xmas 1969 ~ From Katie Yeatts. I love inscriptions. Note to self, write shit on the first page of all those books you give as gifts.

So! It's a classic, I think everyone is familiar with the plot either from the book, the film or the Simon & Garfunkel song. No need to dwell on it.

Charles Webb's style is distinctive, very minimalist. Not Hemingway-sparse, but the language isn't flowery and he doesn't waste pages on the touchy-feely bits. In fact the story is told from a 3rd-person objective point of view and the narration only follows our dubious protagonist Benjamin Braddock. The effect, for me at least, lent to the idea that young Ben has no idea what the hell he's doing with his life. He's never able to properly explain himself to anyone and he acts with seeming disregard for, or possibly unawareness of, his relationship to his world.

The cover advertises hilarity, which I think is an overstatement as most of the humor is quite understated. Actually some of it felt really stale, but I imagine it's because it's been frequently copied. Not to spoil the story, but somebody's gonna break up a wedding. It is funny though, and easily worth the short 191 pages that it sets you back. One of my favorite funny things is the fact that months into their affair Braddock is still addressing to his lover as Mrs. Robinson. Hee.

The theme though is a bit dark in a quaint "what does it all mean" way, which I'm inclined to appreciate. The characters all seem weighed down by their upper middle class lifestyles and intellectual boredom, but that stiffness in no way drags on the story. I also like Webb's resistance to judging his characters for their actions. Though he certainly suffers the inevitable consequences of his decisions, Braddock is never written off as a villain or a boy in need of saving. He just is who he is.

On a slightly different note, I'm finding that a lot of "modern literature" is starting to feel really dated to me. Benji Braddock watches TV until the stations stop broadcasting. Anything that happened before the invention of infomercials seems like it would have little bearing on my life.

Why Girls are Weird by Pamela Ribon

My first version of this entry didn't have any sort of description of the plot of the book, it just started straight out with what is now the 2nd paragraph. But since I realize it's dumb to assume that the 7 followers who aren't Abby already know the plot, here's the summary from Amazon: "When Anna Koval decides to creatively kill time at her library job in Austin by teaching herself HTML and posting partially fabricated stories about her life on the Internet, she hardly imagines anyone besides her friend Dale is going to read them. He's been bugging her to start writing again since her breakup with Ian over a year ago. And so what if the "Anna K" persona in Anna's online journal has a fabulous boyfriend named Ian? It's not like the real Ian will ever find out about it. Almost instantly Anna K starts getting e-mail from adoring fans that read her daily postings religiously. One devotee, Tess, seems intent on becoming Anna K's real-life best friend and another, a male admirer who goes by the name of "Ldobler," sounds like he'd want to date Anna K if she didn't already have a boyfriend. Meanwhile, the real Anna can't help but wonder if her newfound fans like her or the alter ego she's created. It's only a matter of time before fact and fiction collide and force Anna to decide not only who she wants to be with, but who she wants to be."

I first read Why Girls are Weird when I was 19. Nineteen is a weird age. You're out of high school, so you feel like you should be all grown up. You think of yourself that way. But really, you're still a teenager. Judging by the passages I had underlined my first time reading it, I was most definitely a teenager, in every sense of the word. I'm pretty sure this is not the first time I've reread Girls, because I remembered some of the passages too clearly for this to be only the second time I've read it. But for the intents and purposes of this review, we're going to go ahead and pretend that I'm rereading it for the first time in 6 years. It feels that way, at least.

I bought this book the first summer I worked at my favorite summer camp. Something you must understand about camps is that they are almost entirely staffed by young people, late teens to mid-twenties. Hormones, sunshine, close quarters... you see where I'm going with this. I had my fair share of unrequited crushes, which really colored my first reading of this book, and when looking at the passages I underlined, it shows. Ribon wrote that Anna K was feeling left out of love while all her friends are getting married, and I underlined it. I laughed at myself when I saw that underline this time through because I'm pretty sure I only had one friend who got married by the time we were nineteen, so it's not like I was being left behind in anything. I was just being dramatic. And immediately after laughing at 19 year old me, I was overcome with mortification. Not only had I underlined passages that don't actually pertain to my life in any way, but I underlined them IN PEN, and I have LOANED THIS BOOK OUT. I'm... I'm so embarrassed. But to those of you who read this book and saw my underlines and wondered what the hell I was on about: I was nineteen, and being a teenager is weird.

So how did I react to the book now, now that I'm really a grown up (mostly), in a healthy romantic relationship? I wasn't as affected by the romance plotline. It was still interesting as it ever was, and I had actually forgotten a lot of the details of Anna and Ian's relationship. And I think with the added perspective of actually having been in real relationships, the actions of the characters make much more sense. But the biggest difference of all: This time, I was much, much more affected by the stories of Anna and her dying father. Three months ago I lost my beloved grandfather, and I would come across parts in the book that would make me want to shout to those around me "This! This is how I feel!" There is a part not too long after she finds out her dad is really dying where she says she wishes she could go back to when "things were simpler, [...] when being a daughter had nothing to do with watching someone slip silently away. I wanted to go back to when a father was someone big and strong, an invincible man who never let anything get in his way." Yeah, I know how that feels. I loved the part where she wishes she could wear a sign that says "I'M IN MOURNING" so people don't give her strange looks when she's crying in front of frozen foods. Maybe I should make a sign like that, because I'm going to have to brave the Fathers Day section at Target next week to buy my dad a card. All those cards for Grandpas...

Mourning is weird. Even though it was sad, reading about Anna's mourning was cathartic. I don't remember crying during the gynecologist scene the first time I read this book, but this time I was sobbing. Anna has to go to a new doctor for the first time, and the doctor has to take a medical history. For the first time she has to say, out loud "My father died of heart disease," and she breaks down. I haven't had to say it yet, but eventually I will have to do some sort of medical history or something, and I will have to say it. Out loud. "My grandpa died of lung cancer." It's weird just to type it.

I don't know what my favorite single line was the first time I read Why Girls are Weird, but I know now. When Dr. Sanji tells her: "It's sad when our daddies die. Makes us one less person inside." :'(

And I have to say, Tiny Wooden Hand is still freaking hilarious. Also, if you want to turn this post into a drinking game (and really, why wouldn't you?), drink every time you read the word "weird."

Bombay Time by Thrity Umrigar

Bombay Time is a novel about a group of old friends who live in the same apartment in Bombay. It's sort of a coming of age novel, not just for the characters, but for their city. The city is growing and changing, it's more violent more impoverished than when the residents of Wadia Baug were young.

The story is told through a series of flashbacks. Each chapter is presented from the point of view of a different character. In the present, the group is gathering for the wedding of one neighbor's son. In the flashbacks, characters are taken back to a pivotal moment in their life, generally when they were in their teens or twenties. For some characters we are taken through a many years and others just a few traumatic months. The juxtaposition of these wide-eyed, ambitious youths with their faded, wrinkled present day ghosts is paralleled in the changes in the city from a bustling, hopeful place to a violent, dirty, dangerous city. The shine is certainly off of both.

The character development and relationships of this group is certainly Umrigar's strength. She investigates the tense and difficult moments that change the trajectory of each life. The style is good, each character has their own voice, their own perceptions which are confirmed or shown to be false in other chapters. I found the only disappointment was in the ending, which was narrated by the same character as the first chapter. He is the only person who finds closure or redemption. I was left feeling a bit unfinished, I wanted that final resolution for each Wadia Baug resident. But possibly the author's point is that the second look isn't necessary. The old men and women are set in their ways. The emotion of the wedding and the brief brush with violence they see there leaves them unchanged. We know the characters well enough to know what they'll be doing in the morning.

Umrigar does an excellent job bringing Bombay to life for an outsider. Made me want to see more into India.

Going In Circles by Pamela Ribon

pamie's third book!!

This is a novel about Charlotte Goodman whose marriage is breaking up after only a few months. She's moved out and become unhinged. She's so detached from her life that she internally narrarates the action. And then she makes a new friend and discovers roller derby and is able to eventually start living again.

Going in Circles is, I think, a departure from Ribon's previous novels. It still has that very personal aspect, the reader is fully inside the neurosis of the protagonist. It's believable in the details and well-written in that signature Ribon style. It lacked the hilarity though. I think this book was sadder. Not sad like Why Girls are Weird with the death of a parent that left me sobbing in the backseat of my parent's SUV as we roadtripped to Iowa. But, gloomy.

Charlotte is really Broken, just like her derby name - Hard Broken. And it's sad. And you feel for her. There are some scenes sprinkled with humor, the dark scenario lighened with some silliness, but overall this is a much more somber look at someone's life. Alternatively, Charlotte is a grown-up. She doesn't seem petulant or irresponsible or moody. She seems like she's been run over by a Mac truck. She also isn't as insecure as previous Ribon characters, possibly because her circumstances are so much more dire. I think this story shows growth from Ribon.

Totally enjoyable reading (contrary to what I just wrote about it being sad). I read it in a day and I learned about roller derby and I laughed out loud once and cried a little, and what more do you really want in a book? I heart pamie, and as always look forward to her next endeavor.

Her Fearful Symmetry - Audrey Niffenegger

This is the second UBC book from Niffenegger. This chick is into the supernatural.

Her Fearful Symmetry is sort of a mystery books. It features two sets of twins, American twenty-somethings Julia and Valentina and their English mother and aunt, Edie and Elspeth. At the opening Elspeth dies and leaves her apartment in London to the younger twins. Edie and Elspeth are estranged, haven't seen each other in decades, and Edie is forbidden from visiting Elspeth's apartment if the girls move in.

The girls are sort of a codependent dichotomy, Julia is strong, healthy and forceful and Valentina is ill and weak-spirited, but longs for independence. Elspeth the ghost is ever-present in the apartment and Niffenegger spends more time than you'd expect on the science side of the afterlife. She explains it from Elspeth's perspective as Elspeth discovers her ghostly nature.

As the story develops, there's an expected rift between the twins as Valentina falls in love with Elspeth's depressed boyfriend who lives in the apartment below and Julia befriends the obsessive compulsive that lives in the apartment above. Eventually, the story takes a bizarre supernatural twist and the truth behind the Edie/Elspeth rift is revealed.

I am not really a mystery-reader, so I'm not totally familiar with the usual plot devices, but I was pleasantly surprised by this book. There were some obvious red herrings and some leading foreshadowing, but the twist was still a surprise. While I had guessed the truth, I hadn't guessed the whole truth, nor did I see the ghostly hijinks coming. It was fun and I was amused by all of it.

As with The Time Traveler's Wife, Niffenegger gives the characters what they want and then makes them suffer for it a bit. The ending was far from happy, but when I finished I realized I wasn't sure who the protagonist was. The characters are each flawed, but their actions often belied their character so it was hard to root for anyone in particular.

I definitely recommend this book, it's a quick read but has a lot of interesting perspectives on death and truth and hurting the ones you love.

If they decide to make this into a craptacular movie like they did with Time Traveler, I'm hoping they cast the Olsen twins as Julia and Valentina. They are the right age and look and it would be an awesome way for them to reunite on screen. In what would definitely be a horrible movie.

Little Women - Louisa May Alcott

Abby experiences nostalgia through literature. I don't remember what age I was when I read Little Women the first time, but the second reading gave me weird deja vu. I must have been pre-teen because the parts of the story that stuck with me then were parts that would barely register now.

Little Women is the story of the March sisters, Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy. The story follows the girls for about 13 years - opening with all the girls in their teens and closing with the girls as adults, married and with children.

The theme centers strongly around Christian values and especially the role of a woman in a good home. The story is set at the end of the Civil War and at the beginning the four March girls and their mother are running the household alone while their father contributes to the war effort. I think the book is forward-thinking in its way and in its time. The women are portrayed as strong, multi-dimensional, capable and diverse. Meg is mothering, Jo is the "boy" of the family, Beth the saintly homebody and Amy the ambitious, precocious artist. While Little Women certainly doesn't break down any walls with a feminist message, it does an excellent job of showing the depth, difficulties, and strength required of a woman in that traditional role. The women and men alike struggle with the mold they are expected to fit, and at times rebel and act against self-interest when they find that mold uncomfortable. The novel loses its revolutionary edge in the end where each character finds happiness in their own way in a very traditional life. Each girl reaching adulthood ends the book married to a respectable man and finds happiness and fulfillment in bearing children and being a good wife.

As an interesting point on growing up, I was very amused by the parts of the story that were the most familiar on the second read. I assume these were the bits that resonated the most strongly with younger me. In my days as a young reader, I was more into action, more sensationalist. At one point Amy falls through some ice on the river and nearly dies. This chapter I could have recited the plot at the opening. I think its been 15 years since I read this book, but I remembered exactly how this exciting scene played out. I also remembered the scene when Jo cuts off all of her hair and sells it, so I must have been vain in my youth. The book also deals with death, and reading the passages about the long illness of one character filled me again with dread and confusion.

What I did not see on my first read were the really obvious messages. The book was clearly written for the betterment of young women, and Mrs. March speaks to the faults and triumphs of her four girls as a lesson to the reader. Any girl could identify with one or more of the sisters and take that girl's lessons as her own. From a strictly stylistic standpoint, the character development is the opposite of subtle. After a break in time Alcott often describes the changes in character in detail, up front and relays the reactions of other characters in equally plain language. As a tool to teach young girls it is probably really effective, but for an adult reader it sort of took away the mystery when we're reunited with a character.

Anyway, I can recommend this book to readers young and old, its a good story and well-written. If I were handing it to my own daughter, I'd probably include a disclaimer that the book is a period piece. While I do believe that happiness is found in the love of one's friends and family, the book only acknowledges one type of family - man, wife, chilluns. Not exactly the message I'd want to send my daughter.

Juliet, Naked by Nick Hornby

- Miranda

I finished Juliet, Naked last night, and at the time I was really disappointed. Now that I've had some time to let the last chapter sink into my brain, it's not as bad as I had originally thought. It's no About A Boy, but it's a good read and the emotionally stunted main characters and music themes are signature Hornby.

The plot is a little convoluted, but essentially it's about three people who, through a series of ridiculous yet not totally unbelievable circumstances, realize they have sleepwalked through the last 15+ years of their lives. The main characters are: Tucker Crowe, a singer-songwriter from the early '80s with only one notable record to his name (Juliet) who hasn't been seen or heard from since halfway through the Juliet tour. Duncan is one of only a dozen or so people left in the world who not only has heard of Tucker Crowe, but actually considers him a musical genius. And Annie, Duncan's long suffering girlfriend. And by "long suffering" I mean that they've been dating for 15 years and have very little in common aside from hating the small seaside town in which they live.

One day Duncan recieves a copy of the first new Tucker Crowe album in 20+ years, a demo version of Juliet dubbed "Juliet, Naked." He listens to it and writes an embarassingly glowing review on his TC fansite basically saying that Naked is like the greatest thing ever and definitely better than the original Juliet. Annie listens to it (actually, she listens to it first, which pisses Duncan off royally) and writes her own review basically saying that the accoustic demos are nice and all, but the original Juliet is superior because the finished, polished product is always better than the rough draft. Tucker Crowe sends Annie an email thanking her for being the only reasonable person on the fansite (apparently he reads his own fansite. I totally would, too). Hijinks ensue.

One of my first complaints was the fact that Tucker's 6 year old son Jackson's dialog doesn't really read like an American 6yo speaking. I can't put my finger on which part is off, the American part or the 6yo part, but it's definitely not quite right. My other complaints are actually about the very last events in the book, and therefor obvious spoilers, so I'll just stop now.

Juliet, Naked was a decent read from a great contemporary author. I recommend it, but not too strongly. Solid B.

Next up: Under The Dome by Stephen King. I'm about 60 pages in and there's already been a lot of blood and gore and explosions. Basically, so far so good. :)

The Age of Innocence - Edith Wharton

This novel won the Pulitzer Prize in 1921, Wharton was the first woman to receive that honor. I've read another of her books, Ethan Frome and I decidedly preferred The Age of Innocence.

Our protagonist, Mr. Newland Archer, is a well-to-do young man in Old New York. He's a respected member of society, about to become engaged to a lovely, nice girl from one of the best families in the city and he values the old New York propriety and tradition. Of course, that all goes straight to hell right from the get-go. The night he and May announce their engagement, Newland falls in love with May's cousin the Countess Olenska who is recently estranged from her Polish husband.

Wharton writes with one eye on the excruciating detail necessary to give the reader the true picture of the structured and suffocating New York society and the other on the complex characters who are each lovable in their conventional and unconventional strengths and weaknesses.

I find it interesting that the story is told from Newland's perspective, not that of his loyal and proper wife or his troubled love. Perhaps it is telling of the opportunities for philosophy and freedom that were the domain of men at that time. Anyway, despite his determination to buck convention and abandon the society that carefully raised him, Newland is after all a slave to propriety. He cannot even articulate his desires to anyone but the Countess, who remains largely an enigma in the story. Their meetings are infrequent, and though they are passionate and emotional the two are never physical. This is actually the one thing I recall from Ethan Frome, Frome is in love with someone other than his wife and the culminating act of betrayal in the novel is when the two hold either end of a handkerchief.

I enjoyed this book, and would recommend it. Wharton's tone conveys irony and disgust with the conventionalities of the society she was raised in and there is a subtle humor that is really enjoyable. Lastly, though the plot is far from complex, it kept me guessing and I found the ending to be quite a surprise. It was sad, part bittersweet part disappointment, but it doesn't pander.

Incidentally, I'll move the film to the top of my Netflix queue and do a follow-up on the movie interpretation. The film was directed by Martin Scorsese and stars Daniel Day-Lewis, Michelle Pfeiffer and Winona Ryder. Generally I dislike the film version of books I enjoy, but the cast and Scorsese factor have me a bit excited.

The Rum Diary - Pt 2

I finished this. I missed my big 100th post opportunity. Sigh.

Okay, so review. I enjoyed this book. In the end there was no more solid plot than the beginning. It truly was like a Diary. Just a record of events, without rhyme or reason.

Like other Thomson, the protagonist is self-destructive, big on substance use. The situations are outrageous, the only woman in the story is treated horribly and has some serious issues.

It's an interesting look at the media as well, the behavior of the reporters is less-than-professional. It makes you wonder who throws together the things you read. And who chooses the stories. And how it all gets paid for.

I recommend The Rum Diary for lunch hour reading. It isn't heavy or long. It isn't exactly light-hearted or particularly funny, but it was a nice distraction from life. A quick transport to another place and time is always nice.

The Rum Diary - Thompson

I started this book over the weekend, I'm nearly half-way through.

Hunter S. Thompson wrote Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (which I've read, seen the movie a dozen times--its an excellent representation). The Rum Diary is sort of similar in tone, though slower in pace. Fear and Loathing sort of lurches aimlessly through the drunken, drug-addled haze of nonsense. The Rum Diaries is more of a drunken meandering about Puerto Rico.

Both books have an interesting lack of plot. This one seems more focused on the situation of the other characters in the same bizarre environment as opposed to the influence of the environment on the anti-heroes of Fear and Loathing. Both are filled with purposefully purposeless nomads seeking some sort of elusive fulfillment. Happiness is certainly beyond them, but a vague peace may be attainable.

I love Thompson, I'll let you know how it all finishes out.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle

-Miranda

Despite a perfectly creepy title, Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle isn't really very creepy. The book follows the three surviving members of the Blackwood family, all of whom are varying levels of crazy. Uncle Julian is the eldest surviving Blackwood, he spends most of his days trying to remember every last detail from the day the rest of the Blackwoods died (arsenic in the sugar bowl). Weakened from the poison, he is confined to a wheelchair and is often confused. Sometimes he thinks Constance is his late wife, Dorothy, and sometimes he thinks Merricat is dead. Constance is a very quiet girl who never goes too far away from the house (never past her gardens). Since she didn't have any of the sugar, she was accused of killing her family members, but was later aquitted at trial. She avoids leaving Blackwood Estate because she knows the town still thinks she's guilty. Merricat (Mary Katherine) is the narrator, and is the youngest Blackwood, 18, and she is the only member of her family that goes into town. People in the town stare and whisper, and young boys tease. Merricat is clearly a little crazy, and seems to not have matured passed the age of 12.

The book is subtle, a lot happens but it's not really a plot driven book. It's really mostly a character study of these three people, the lives they lead after a terrible tragedy. It's not really a mystery, it's fairly obvious who the murderer was, but it's a decent read. And, at 214 pages, it's a nice quick read. But, if you want to read something by Shirley Jackson, I recommend The Haunting of Hill House, a much better and creepier book.

Bridge to Terabithia

-- By Miranda

Let me start by explaining precisely why I was reading Bridge to Terabithia when I could have been reading something a) that was written for someone my own age and b) that I haven't already read. First I'll tackle the second point, because that's how I roll. I can't remember when I first read Bridge to Terabithia, but I would say guessing I was about 8 wouldn't be that far off. So it's easily been fifteen years since I read the book, and while I remembered the major plot points, there really wasn't a whole lot I remembered about the book itself. So the fact that I've already read it is, as Joey Tribiani would say, a moo point. As for the first point: when I got home from work yesterday at 5 I had been awake for 14 hours, running on only 3.5 hours of sleep. I was tired, but I knew it was too late in the day to take a nap and stay on an appropriate sleep schedule. So I decided to grab a book off my shelf that I wanted to read and would hold my interest but wouldn't be terribly involved reading.

I'm going to be discussing some spoilers in the next paragraphs, in Orange.

I remembered from the first time I read the book that the ending was sad, but I don't remember crying as hard as I did rereading the book last night. Maybe I was an emotionally stunted 8 year old, or maybe my femotions (that's a combination of "female" and "emotions" if you're unfamiliar with the term) were conspiring against me, but I cried harder last night than I have ever cried at the end of a book. I may have been more sobby than I was the first time I watched My Dog Skip, which is really saying something.

One thing I know I didn't pick up on the first time I read it is how well-written it is. It's targeted at children, but aside from the length (it's only 128 pages, with fairly large print) and the fact that the main characters are 10 years old, there's really nothing childlike about it. The book deals with family, friendship, fears, and death in a way that doesn't talk down to the intended young audience. Reading it now and knowing how it would end, I was able to pick up on the foreshadowing in the earlier chapters: Leslie's essay on scuba diving as her favorite hobby and Jess's fear of water all become significant when Leslie drowns in the creek on her way to Terabithia, the make-believe kingdom where Leslie and Jess are Queen and King. Jess's reaction to his only friend's death is the most heartbreaking thing I have ever read. His anger, confusion, and mourning all feel completely genuine.

I've seen this book on lists of the most frequently banned books, and I can't even begin to fathom why. Because it deals with difficult situations honestly? To paraphrase my friend Katie, is it so wrong to expose children to the bad things that happen in the world? Bridge to Terabithia is a fantastic book that doesn't talk down to the children but also won't fly over their heads. I hesitate to use the phrase, but it's a damn-near perfect book.

Black Girl/White Girl by Joyce Carol Oates

- Miranda.


Oh, bother.

This was not a good book. I had high hopes for it, but... no. Spoilers in blue.

The basic storyline is this: Genna Meade, a moderately wealthy daughter of a radical political activist, is in her freshman year at Schuyler University. Her roommate is Minette Swift, a black minister's daughter from D.C. Hijinks ensue. Hijinks that eventually lead to Minette's death.

I'm not really sure what to spoilerfy here, because I'm not going to recommend this book. I'll just put the rest of the plot in blue, but by no means am I telling you to skip ahead.

Genna Meade is weird. She's incredibly needy, but it's so strange. She desperately tries to be friends with Minette, even though Minette seemingly has no interest in her. It's not like Genna doesn't have any other friends, she mentions on more than one occassion that other girls in the dorm like her. She's also bizarrely protective of Minette, for reasons I don't quite comprehend. Genna's parents are bat-shit crazy and her brother ran away to live with relatives when Genna was 11, which I guess could explain why she so desperately tries to create some sort of familial relationship with Minette. Her mother is an alcoholic nutcase. Her father is a radical anarchist who may have connections to criminal enterprises.

Minette Swift is weird. Everybody, except Genna, hates her. Steadily throughout the book she is subjected to more and more acts of racisim, from racist pictures being left under the door, books stolen and vandalized, even the word "NIG" being scrawled in black marker across their dorm door. I know this all sounds terrible, and I felt sorry for her, until it became clear that she was doing it all herself. I'm not sure why, but I think it may have been to get attention, to get a private room, and to get extensions on papers. Once she gets a private room in another campus builing, Minette dies from a fire resulting from all the freakin' candles she left burning.

This book is so confusing. I don't like any of the characters, the plot doesn't really make that much sense, and Oates' sentence structure is awkward. It really feels like she started the book without knowing how it would finish. From the blurb I thought it was going to be about Minette's murder at the hands of the people who were harrassing her and the way Genna and the college deal with the aftermath. My version sounds kind of interesting, right? Like a murder mystery with some racial/political aspects. But no.

I'm willing to give Oates another shot. She's written 119 books, I'm just going to assume that I picked one from the shitty end of the bell curve. Sigh. I give it a D+.

Girls in Pants by Ann Brashares

-- Miranda

Yeah, this is the third book in the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series. I'm not ashamed to admit that I read the first two books and enjoyed them greatly. I read them before the movie came out... I know I was still at Juco, so this was probably three to four years ago. So it's been a while.

This book is sort of the same as the others, it tells the story of four friends' summer vacation. In the first two books, Lena, Tibby, Bridget and Carmen are all separated for the summer and the pants are a way to keep them all connected. But in this book, Bridget is the only one away and the other three are all at home. It's the summer before they leave for college, and Bridget is coaching at a soccer camp in PA, Lena is taking Art classes, Carmen is babysitting Lena's Grandma and preparing for the birth of her half-brother, and Tibby is... well, she kinda starts dating her friend and her little sister falls out of a tree, but I can't remember what else she does for the summer. The summer before college is an interesting time, because for the first time the girls aren't going to be together again when Fall rolls back around.

One problem that this book faces that the others didn't is that they aren't separated. The whole purpose of the pants in the first books are that they make the girls feel a connection to each other even though they are all far away. The girls deal with the sort of problems that make them wish their friends were there (first love, first hearbreak, a parent remarrying, self-discovery and the death of a friend (all in the first book!!)), and having the pants was a way to make them feel the bonds of their closeknit friendship. The pants gave the girls strength and courage, the same way a pep talk from your closest friend would. The pants would be mailed to each girl in a set pattern where they would keep them for a week and then pass them on to the next girl, usually with a letter. It was a very interesting and effective storytelling device.

In this book, not only are they not separated, but the pants are almost an afterthough. Since three of the four girls are in the same town, the pants don't really serve the same purpose as they did in the previous books. Bridget is the only one who really needs to have the feeling that her friends are with her, but the only time I can remember her wearing the pants is at the game where the team she coached wins a tournament against the other teams at camp. She mentions when she's gettting ready that she puts the pants on, but she doesn't mention if they at all affect the way she feels. I can't even remember when the other girls have the pants. I think Tibby is wearing them when Carmen's brother is born. Lena... maybe when she decides to go to art school? Carmen... I have no idea. I get that the whole pant thing is really cheesy, but it's kind of the cheese that holds everything together.

All in all, it's an OK book. It's targeted at teen girls, so it's not really aiming to be a pulitzer nominee. But I remember the first two books being much better than this one. I give it a grade of C. It was this close to being a C+, and could have even earned a B or higher if Ann Brashares had stuck with the themes of separation and magical pants.

Next up: Black Girl/White Girl by Joyce Carol Oates and Forever in Blue: The Fourth Summer of the Sisterhood