tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61047079378675694572024-03-14T00:52:58.421-07:00Read, Talk, LaughSue Van Ettenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01990210584729005124noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-69415421018339859252012-09-24T15:18:00.000-07:002012-09-24T15:18:22.617-07:00Crow Planet by Lyanda Lynn Haupt<br />
<a href="http://www.hachettebookgroup.com/_images/ISBNCovers/Covers_Large/9780316019101_154X233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Crow Planet" border="0" height="400" src="http://www.hachettebookgroup.com/_images/ISBNCovers/Covers_Large/9780316019101_154X233.jpg" width="263" /></a><br />
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<i>Crow Planet, Essential Wisdom from the Urban Wilderness,</i> provides the reader with a message of environmental balance between greeting each day as a pollyanna or being a "hand-ringing nihilist". She provides helpful ecological bookmarks for those of us who vacillate between despair and hope.</div>
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When I ask a client the direction their home faces -- north, south, east or west -- and they don't know I feel despair. Then, when I ask, "where does the sun come up?" and they still do not know, I'm certain we are doomed. How can there be a thoughtful interaction with nature and humans when our human connectivity is so lacking, so damaged by our modern ways? This is when I become one of those hand-ringing nihilists. Then I look out my window and the world is so remarkable with the garden bursting in beauty, and I find myself singing my way into a Pollyanne state of mind. Back-and-forth, up-and-down, hopeful one day and in despair the next.</div>
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Haupt seems to have a handle on this and can see the strengths of wild and wilderness that survive the human onslaught as she mourns urbanization. She does so with a balance I strive to achieve. She honors the adaptive survival of the abundant crow population as hope for the future. She celebrates the crow's intelligence and adaptability. She observes and learns, not just about crows but about her world. She is alert.</div>
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The book is meditative and wise, fun and informative, sensitive and entertaining as Haupt's observations of crows blends their place in nature side-by-side with our human place in nature. She doesn't allow us to be "other" as we often pretend we are and she urges us to connect with a more-than-human world.</div>
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<i>Crow Planet</i> is a quick and thoughtful read by a local author. I recommend it. But then, I've always loved crows!</div>
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Review by Fran</div>
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<br />fredleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067499980692570586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-40758555946862256732012-09-12T10:26:00.001-07:002013-02-23T09:04:29.292-08:00Mississippi Mud by Edward Humes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://d1ldy8a769gy68.cloudfront.net/180/067/188/998/2/0-671-88998-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Cover art for MISSISSIPPI MUD" border="0" class="book_detail_cover" data-isbn="0-671-88998-2" height="400" itemprop="image" src="https://d1ldy8a769gy68.cloudfront.net/180/067/188/998/2/0-671-88998-2.jpg" width="270" /></a><br />
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I just finished the unlikely read of Mississippi Mud. My attention was drawn to this book because it took place in Biloxi, Mississippi. Ed spent his Air Force days in Biloxi teaching electronics (teaching being highly desirable to being shipped off to Vietnam), teasing my curiosity. </div>
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Mississippi Mud, A True Story from a Corner of the Deep South, is a tale of southern "justice" and the dixie mafia. A horrifying read with the unfolding of crime, gambling, murders, prostitution, corruption, nasty deals, unsavory politicians, corrupt judges, dirty-dealing lawyers and bribed prison officials. It includes prisoners making millions from their cell "offices" and the wonder that a US city could be so completely lawless. The Biloxi Strip was a hub of sex, drugs, and sleaze. </div>
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Are you ready to read this book yet? Well, for you mystery lovers, it is also a mystery as a daughter tries to find out who violently killed her Judge father and politician mother. She stubbornly pursues the answer from 1987 through 1993, with mixed success, while following a complex and fascinating trail. </div>
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This is a true story with the <a href="http://www.edwardhumes.com/">Pulitzer Prizewinning journalist Humes</a> providing extensive footnotes. It proves once again that the truth can be stranger than fiction and left me wondering about the health of our other innocent-appearing cities. Have I been living in a bubble?</div>
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Ed was definitely living in a bubble. As a non gambling, non drinking, non carousing military officer he had no idea, when I asked, that the strip was so famous for low life deals, even back in the 60's when he was there. I, of course, wonder if it's been cleaned up since. Biloxi still advertises night clubs, strip clubs and casinos, behind which any number of unsavory activities can still be taking place. </div>
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<a href="http://biloxistripclubs.com/images/biloxi-stripper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Biloxi Stripper" border="0" src="http://biloxistripclubs.com/images/biloxi-stripper.jpg" /></a></div>
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I'm not sure I recommend this book; I'm not sure I don't.</div>
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Review by Fran</div>
fredleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067499980692570586noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-18189113226097898732012-07-30T10:58:00.000-07:002012-07-30T10:58:19.031-07:00Goodbye Dorothy<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Goodbye...there's just no sadder word to say</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DSpbjMPlw6Y/UBbKk-xbwvI/AAAAAAAAJPQ/5APlQVdkN-s/s1600/IMG_7100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DSpbjMPlw6Y/UBbKk-xbwvI/AAAAAAAAJPQ/5APlQVdkN-s/s320/IMG_7100.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Dorothy</span></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>fredleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067499980692570586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-38286622727580127682012-07-18T18:18:00.000-07:002012-09-12T09:34:33.796-07:00Getting Those Green VeggiesI read about kale smoothies in that font of epicurean knowledge, <em>Parade Magazine</em>. The recipes sounded really weird, but since leafy greens are not a strong point in my kitchen, I gave it a try. Wow! So good!<br />
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Here's a basic recipe, but you can use whatever you have on hand. The banana gives the smoothies the underlying sweetness, so I always include banana. I've used a peach, a large handful of strawberries, etc.<br />
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<strong>Banana-Kale Smoothie</strong><br />
<strong>Serves 2</strong><br />
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1 banana<br />
1/2 cup of blueberries (if frozen, nuke for 20 seconds)<br />
1 large kale leaf, tough central stem removed<br />
(Can also use 3/4 - 1 cup of spinach leaves or chard)<br />
1/2 to 3/4 cup of water, milk, yogurt or soy milk<br />
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Blend in a blender or food processor. Kale requires a 30-45 seconds of blending, less for chard or spinach.martihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07654842941378800069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-62572949514654315962012-07-10T14:07:00.000-07:002012-07-11T10:52:23.370-07:00That Woman: The Life of Wallis Simpson, Dutchess of Windsor<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://encrypted-tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ-G6ATSua0GEFtsgmzT3iGAkxPI7xM6kmr53Uu6EI5kloOXd2dyw" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ-G6ATSua0GEFtsgmzT3iGAkxPI7xM6kmr53Uu6EI5kloOXd2dyw" width="131" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I can’t believe I spent as much time reading <i>That Woman: The Life of Wallis Simpson, the Dutchess of Windsor,</i> by Anne Sebba, as I did. Sort of like reading the People Magazine, or the online articles about celebrity breakups and marriages. . . I hope no one saw me reading it. . .</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Wallis Warfield Spencer Simpson Windsor was born in Baltimore in 1896 to precarious financial circumstances, and strove all her life to raise herself to a level of financial security. She finally reached her goal when the Prince of Wales, later Edward VII, later the Duke of Windsor, became totally, obsessively besotted with her and renounced his crown to be “with the woman I love.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Anne Sebba, however, seems to imply in her biography that the widely reviled Wallis really didn’t want to marry the King, that Wallis suffered from a disorder of indeterminate sexual expression, and that the King suffered from Asperger’s Syndrome (even though he was notably charming and quite the womanizer in his pre-Wallis days). In addition, the King comes across as a total dolt, ignoring any and all work of state in favor of repeated phone calls with Wallis every day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">This book is weighed down by poor writing, too much unfounded arm-chair psychoanalysis, and the fact that Wallis was sort of a nasty bitch from the word go<i>.</i></span><i> </i>martihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07654842941378800069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-78411167039837228832012-06-20T09:41:00.000-07:002012-06-20T11:26:48.909-07:00Things I've Been Silent About, Azar Nafisi<br /><div class="image-bounding-box">
<a href="http://img2.imagesbn.com/images/103480000/103489060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Things I've Been Silent About: Memories of a Prodigal Daughter" border="0" class="product-image image img book product-expand-view" data-bntrack="ProductImageMain" height="200" itemprop="image" src="http://img2.imagesbn.com/images/103480000/103489060.jpg" width="130" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">When one loves an Azar, how can one ignore a book written by
an Azar? That’s the dilemma I
found myself embroiled in, within my head. This book-by-Azar remained on my book group bookshelf,
unread, for months. It would jump
out at me as I skimmed the shelf, yet I passed it by, over and over again. It was both enticing and distasteful as
it stared back at me.</div>
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It’s interesting about that bookshelf. Here are the books I’ve toted home from
book group, lined up on the shelf, waiting to be read.
Some have sat there for an embarrassingly long time. Books that sounded
enticing, worthwhile, interesting, exciting, or important for one reason or
another. But, when the time came
to select one, were passed by.</div>
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Things I’ve Been Silent About by Azar Nafisi sat and sat
and sat on that shelf. How many months ago did I bring it home? I didn’t read it, but I couldn’t part with it. <i>Azar, Azar, Azar </i>stared at me. I had to read it and when I finally did
I greatly enjoyed it. Thanks Betty
<i>Azar</i> and thanks <i>Azar</i> Nafisi.</div>
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Much of my resistance to reading Things I’ve Been Silent
About was that it was about Iran, a country both fascinating and distasteful to
me. I didn’t want to read about ugly political turmoil, the suffering
of people, or the control of women’s freedoms. But that wasn’t what the book was about, although there was
that too.</div>
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Instead it was about an exceptional woman, marriage, and a
mother-father-daughter struggle.
It is an intimate look at Nafisi's family, the secrets she kept, and the
price of political upheaval to a family.
One word I came across in the description of the book was dissection,
and that fits. Nafisi dissected
her childhood experiences and relationships as she told her story.</div>
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Azar Nafisi is a good story teller, and the story, although
difficult, was not depressing. </div>
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Another admirable woman and another wonderful memoir.</div>fredleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067499980692570586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-14079253816342951902012-06-19T10:52:00.001-07:002012-06-19T18:38:56.291-07:00A Homemade Life, by Molly Wizenberg<a href="http://www.americanfeast.com/images/P/A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20Homemade%20Life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.americanfeast.com/images/P/A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20A%20Homemade%20Life.jpg" width="199" /></a>
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<span style="font-family: "Century Gothic","sans-serif";">I
have not followed Molly Wizenberg’s food blog, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://orangette.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Orangette</span></a></i>—but
reading this book, which arose from the blog, was very satisfying. It wasn’t
just that the food parts are both tempting and entertaining. I found
Wizenberg’s style forthright, funny, and reflective, with descriptive zingers
that startled me and made me laugh. Easygoing, likeable… these are the kind of
words that keep floating up. Even if you don’t care about the recipes, this
book is fun to read. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I expected <i>A
Homemade Life </i>to be enjoyable because I’d heard good things, but didn’t
anticipate that I’d be in the bath with it until the water got cold—<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">twice</i>—because even after deciding to
stop reading and get out (hence, not to add more hot water), a single sentence
of the following chapter would draw me back in. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Wizenberg's syntax is
admirable, something I notice and respect, and mention because one could be
forgiven for not expecting such able writing from a blog-born book. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Her recipes are
diverse, from the down-home (her father’s mayonnaise-heavy potato salad) to the
sexy (tarte Tatin). In fact, I cherish her take on the latter: </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;"><span style="font-size: x-small; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">…tarte Tatin is
essentially a sexed-up apple pie—a housewife in stilettos, you could say. <i>[Tantalizing
vision of deep amber carmelized apples and puff pastry here.] </i>Dolloped with
crème fraîche, tarte Tatin doesn’t dally with small talk. It reaches for your
leg under the table.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This is a gently
meandering memoir organized around food. The happy Oklahoma childhood. The
student years in Paris. The telling moment when, after her father dies of
cancer, she plunges back into her studies—in Paris—but realizes that Foucault’s
social theories no longer compel her. “My three years in graduate school, I now
know, amounted to one big excuse to go back to Paris.” By the second week
there, her research notes were being usurped by addresses for pastry shops and
kitchen supply stores, and she knew she was quitting grad school to write about
food. Now, as well as the blog, she writes regularly for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bon Appétit</i>, and has been featured on NPR.org and PBS.org. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Oh, and there’s a
love story in there, too. And, FYI, Wizenberg and her husband own and run
Delancey, a pizza place in Ballard. She’s local! Did everybody know this except
me? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Recommended for
everyone who enjoys eating. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">~ Paula</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12084791577067274667noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-43653180524520577932012-06-12T08:34:00.000-07:002012-06-20T11:27:23.998-07:00The Keep by Jennifer Egan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0b8RjhIUS90/T9dgWEcnvPI/AAAAAAAAJE0/QI-mz52BN7E/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0b8RjhIUS90/T9dgWEcnvPI/AAAAAAAAJE0/QI-mz52BN7E/s200/-1.jpg" width="127" /></a></div>
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Kim wrote in an e-mail:</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><i>OK - I'm not even going to try to write a review for the blog about this book because I don't know how I would.</i></span><br />
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<i>But, after trying - and quitting - so many books that were frustrating and disappointing (why is it that most of the shortlisters and winners of the Man Booker Award seem to be more for writers than readers, i.e., all about the writing and not so much about the story) I'm pretty charged up about "The Keep" by Jennifer Egan. I loved this book - it's extraordinarily well written and entertaining. You could say it's a gothic tale - or that it's a story of redemption - or a modern day crime story - or all of the above. And it's a mind bender - even now, I can't tell you what's real about it and what's not (i.e., there's a related web site that will keep you guessing!) It's gripping - and funny - and a cliff hanger til the end! I couldn't put it down!</i></div>
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<i>And with all that, it is still "serious fiction", i.e., the author was a finalist for the National Book Award for her first book, "Look at Me.</i></div>
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<i>Do you remember reading John Fowles "The Magus" - kind of uncategorizable? That's this book too. Try it! You'll like it."</i></div>
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~ Kim<br />
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(Posted by Fran, with permission from Kim, because her "review" sure did make me want to read The Keep!)<br />
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<br /></div>fredleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067499980692570586noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-29922228059848941682012-06-11T16:35:00.000-07:002012-06-11T18:43:14.552-07:00"Canada" by Richard Ford<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I read my Best Fiction of 2012 this week. <i>Canada by </i>Richard Ford is an outstanding work of art, made more so by the gentle, unhurried unfolding of its terrible tale. It begins:<br />
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“First, I’ll tell about the robbery our parents committed. Then about the murders, which happened later.”</div>
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So fifteen year-old Dell Parsons tells about the robbery that tore his family apart, dividing his life into “before” and “after”, and how his mother, his father, his twin sister and he each found their way into new lives. Told with Ford’s signature internal dialogs by the now-adult Dell, this is a haunting story of loss, broken trust, rebellion, the occasional kindness of strangers, and the shocking life decisions made by seemingly reasonable people.<br />
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There is nothing else to say: This is Ford’s masterpiece, a huge story, told by a heartbroken boy in a quiet, calm voice. Fiction doesn't get much better than this.martihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07654842941378800069noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-51006581924918729672012-06-09T19:40:00.000-07:002012-06-09T23:04:15.949-07:00Sitting Practice, by Caroline Adderson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.bookclubbuddy.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/sittingpractice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.bookclubbuddy.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/sittingpractice.jpg" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Century Gothic;">Ross and Iliana are an unlikely match, but they fall in love
and marry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is gregarious,
soft-bodied, a foodie who caters for the movie industry in Vancouver, BC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is quiet, athletic, a nurse who escaped her upbringing as child of a fundamentalist Christian minister.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both love their work, and love each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;">Six weeks into their marriage, a terrible car wreck changes
their lives forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Iliana suffers a
spine injury that leaves her wheelchair-bound with no hope of walking
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It takes agonizing months of
rehab just to be able to sit up in the chair without a body brace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sitting practice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ross still loves his wife, but is blown away
by guilt, helplessness, and the accoutrements of the new Iliana—brace, chair,
catheters—and his libido melts away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sitting Practice</i> follows
their marriage and the people who are close to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is the story of coping with a sudden,
stunning, irrevocable change—not just Iliana’s coping, but Ross’s, and the ripples
outward among the people who know them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When
Ross plunges into guilt and depression after the accident, an old girlfriend takes
him to a Buddhist retreat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is a hopelessly
clumsy participant but something stirs him, and he becomes an unlikely but
earnest novice Buddhist, even occasionally experiencing a valuable insight into
his own behavior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another sitting
practice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;">I had this book for months before finally opening it,
fearing that it would be more depressing than I could bear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was not depressing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor was it sentimental, or treacly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The characters pulled me in, page after
page.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even the most minor or annoying ones
were developed enough, interesting enough to care about and remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The humor was tough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I found the story to have an unexpected
rhythm, which I liked for the way it reflected the unpredictable veering of any
life. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No single thread dominates, yet
each is important to the weave—Iliana and her slow, frustrating rehab, her sudden
invisibility, and loss of herself as a sexual being; Ross and his panic and
guilt, his cautious reaching for a system that can contain and give meaning to
his life; the satellite characters (Ross’s narcissistic twin sister, Bonnie,
and her toddler son—his beloved nephew, Bryce—and many others).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each bumbles along; the story turns
unexpected corners. I kept second-guessing but didn’t quite anticipate the
twists on the way to the ending, which is another threshold moment, not sweet
but full of light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Century Gothic;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">~ Paula</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12084791577067274667noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-56090551597624280702012-06-05T19:28:00.000-07:002012-06-05T20:14:47.255-07:00Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I usually turn up my nose at historical novels. Why not just read an historical account? Or a rash of biographies of the period? But when the main character leaves only his accounting books and a few hundred enemies in his wake, I'm a patsy. In this case, it was Thomas Cromwell in Hilary Mantel's British tome, Wolf Hall. Winner of the Man Booker Prize in 2009, the novel uses rich, compelling language and gives the reader a keen sense of place. Mantel paints the famous characters of Henry VIII's court in realistic colors--most of them not very pretty but always witty. It's a brilliant attempt to get under the skin of the infamous Cromwell, solicitor and personal friend of Cardinal Wolsey. Instead of going down in ruin with his master when Anne Boleyn made it her business to destroy Wolsey, Cromwell sidled up to Henry, finally making it possible for the king to set aside Katherine and wed Anne. And you know where it went from there: monasteries looted, nuns begging on the roads, and the king getting richer every year. Thomas too.<br />
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Cromwell was a butcher's son, of no title and no lands, who ran away to France at 15 to escape his father's horrific beatings. The gentry hated him for having Henry's ear because Thomas had no pedigree, but he became a brilliant attorney and master of languages. He had worked in France and Italy, becoming fluent in French, Italian, German and Latin. With a prodigious memory and a smooth tongue (lawyers!), he became one of the wealthiest men in England, thanks to Henry. He outlived two wives and two beloved daughters. But the reason Mantel's book (532 fascinating pages) is so interesting is the picture she paints of the private man and daily life in the 1500s. I'd always thought Cromwell unprincipled and power hungry. His son tells him he looks like a criminal, which was part of his problem--men assumed he was up to no good even when he was relaxing by his own fire. The Cromwell I met was shrewd, wily, and tough, but he was also scrupulous in his accounts and never faltered in his belief in the protestant reformation. The harsh picture of Thomas More that Mantel paints makes it clear that Martin Luther was more than welcome as the one adult in a room of debauched ecclesiastics, self-styled martyrs, and charlatans. The book is a love letter to the Church of England--from Cromwell's point of view.<br />
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Mantel's writing is sure-footed when it comes to the historical facts that are available from Cromwell's accounts, and she never talks down to the reader. I had a rough few first pages with faulty pronoun references until I realized that "he/him" nearly always referred to Cromwell--a grammar "misuse" that made the lead character seem omniscient and and omnipresent. A neat trick. For anyone who loves history, England, or the Tudors, this was a great read. Oh, and the title? The last page of the book has King Henry and Queen Anne (with love already gone sour) going "on progress" through the countryside. Cromwell is planning the trip for them all and is looking forward to a 5-day stay at Wolf Hall--ancestral home of the Seymours. I can only hope the author is working on a sequel.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05752092623800658981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-54342057491287950282012-05-30T08:47:00.000-07:002012-06-20T07:07:44.757-07:00Wild - From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last night I turned out the light 10 pages from finishing Wild <i>From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail</i> by Cheryl Strayed. I've yet to finish it. I don't want it to end, so I'm saving the final words. Waiting. For what? The sequel? </div>
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As each of you reading this blog can imagine, I found Wild exceedingly poignant. With Brad's adventure unfolding on the Pacific Crest Trail running parallel to my reading of Wild, I couldn't help but compare Cheryl and Brad's adventures (<a href="http://homeonwhidbey.blogspot.com/">Fran's Blog</a>), both on the trail and in life (they were born in the same year, 1968). During Brad's <a href="http://www.teararoa.org.nz/index.cfm">Te Araroa</a> Trail tramp, Ed and I went to see <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hy54CpKeqk">The Way</a> at the <a href="http://www.theclyde.net/TheClyde_History.htm">Clyde Theater</a>, and found it to be equally poignant. </div>
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Cheryl's writing has a delightful story-telling mode about it, as well as being brazenly candid and forthright. She was so honest about her relationships, feelings, experiences (including sex and drugs), that I found it to be not only unusual, but refreshing and, at times, alarming. My mind often turned to Cheryl's mother, wondering what she would have thought, and felt, if she were still alive. Or, what Cheryl's former husband's reading emotions were. </div>
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The author's trail experiences, read in tandem with my son spending the year tramping, left me in awe and wonder. Cheryl was completely unprepared for her journey, yet the trail was forgiving and the other thru-hikers and trail angels along the way provided her with reassurance and support. I was left feeling both fear and relief. And, my feet hurt! Reading about Cheryl's boots and the pain they caused, made my feet ache. I too have lost toe nails, courtesy of my hiking boots, as recently as last summer's hike to Surprise Lake to join Brad on the Washington PCT. Yes, I walked toenail to toenail with Cheryl.</div>
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Cheryl seems to be able, with her story telling talent, to make each reader, in some personal way, identify with her adventure. I highly recommend Wild and will be following Cheryl Strayed's writing career.</div>fredleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067499980692570586noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6104707937867569457.post-83029225013861905962012-05-30T06:16:00.001-07:002012-05-30T06:16:38.005-07:00The Beginner's Goodbye<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I wanted to like Anne Tyler's latest, "The Beginner's Goodbye," and I did,
but there were things I didn't like at all. I didn't like the fact that
the main character, a man in his 30's, acts and sounds like a dude much
much older. I also didn't like how this ghost of his wife seems to
communicate with him but it is very dissatisfying for the reader. The
writing is really good and it is a smallish book which took me less than
4 days to read. I am and have always been a slow reader and usually
fall asleep after only a few chapters. Overall I cannot recommend this
book to anyone except maybe my friend, Susan who lost her husband. It
does address grief and what the grieving are going through while the
rest of us make insipid comments to them because we cannot help
ourselves because we are not grieving. (Review by Jamie)Sue Van Ettenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01990210584729005124noreply@blogger.com1