#23: New Moon, Stephenie Meyer

So I'm looking at this book sitting in front of me and I'm having a hard time remembering what it's about. I did like New Moon, but it hasn't stayed with me the way Twilight has. Perhaps because it doesn't have the same level of narrative tension. Like the first book, not a lot happens. For the most part, Bella retreats into a shell because Edward has left her. He breaks it off with cruel words and she believes him, and then spends hundreds of pages in a total funk. She kinda starts liking Jacob Black, newly ordained werewolf. (Yes, I know: Girl meets, likes vampires and werewolves? Insert eye roll.) And then Alice shows up and they're off to save her beloved Edward. Part of the problem, I think, was that I was pretty sure that Edward was coming back; it's just not the kind of story where the main character moves on and settles for someone she doesn't love. So I kinda got a little impatient to move through the sad part, which at times struck me as filler. (Interestingly, Stephenie Meyer encourages you to read this book twice; she thinks people overlook the middle section because they just want to know what happens.) My other issue is that I have little idea of what's going to happen in Eclipse; I don't think this book really set up (or even hinted at) the next conflict at all.

But whatever, I'm still into the series. So thank god, my copies of Eclipse and Breaking Dawn have already made their way into my possession, thank you library. I've just got to finish Time's Arrow before I can jump back into the mythical adventures taking place in Forks, Washington.

Oh, before I go, I do have to give Stephenie Meyer props for injected a little more humor into this one. My favorite lines, courtesy of page 477: "I looked at Aro [the Italian vampire] blankly. Was he joking? Or was he really asking me if I wanted to stay for dinner?" Heehee.

Seinfeld's Head on a Plate

In poking around the Internet just now, I came across a new story about Jessica Seinfeld, Missy Chase Lapine, and veggie-gate. Apparently, Lapine filed papers on Tuesday explaining why she was suing the Seinfelds in the first place, in preparation for a December hearing.

Lapine charges that Jessica Seinfeld knowingly plagarized her cookbook, The Sneaky Chef, when she published her own, Deceptively Delicious, about six months later. From what I've read, it's not even possible that Seinfeld stole from the book; publishing schedules are such that Seinfeld's book was basically done and on its way to the printer when Lapine's came out. I've also seen arguments that since the idea isn't original to Lapine, you can't accuse someone else of taking it. When this first developed last year, I did see a story that convincingly argued that perhaps HarperCollins took the idea, which Lapine had pitched them, and gave it to Jessica Seinfeld, knowing that her celebrity would sell the book. (And it did; Seinfeld's only qualification to write a cook book to feed kids is that she's a mother who cooks.) But more recently, that theory seems to have been debunked.

But still, I hope the Seinfelds get their asses handed to them in court. Their behavior, their arrogance, has just been abominable since this story came out. Personally, I've been shocked with what they've been able to say about Lapine; even more, I'm surprised that people like Barbara Walters and David Letterman have allowed the Seinfelds to come on their shows and say what they want about this woman, when Chase has virtually no media voice at all.

In these recent papers, Lapine explained that her daughter was alarmed after Jerry Seinfeld's stint on Letterman last year, when the so-called comedian said that people with three names turn out to be assasins. He also labeled Lapine a wacko. In a statement, Seinfeld's lawyers this week said, "As a comedian, Jerry has a right under the First Amendment to tell jokes. Ms. Lapine, on the other hand, was not joking when she maliciously accused Jessica Seinfeld, who also has young children, of plagiarism, a charge that is demonstrably false.'' But the thing is, I saw that Letterman episode. If Seinfeld was making jokes, it didn't come across as humor; it seemed pretty clear to me that he used his opportunity on national television to defame this woman and shoot her down. But you can decide for yourself; watch the clip on, ironically, Defamer: http://defamer.com/hollywood/revenge-comedy/seinfeld-to-letterman-whats-the-deal-with-that-crazy-woman-my-wife-stole-all-her-cookbook-ideas-from-316797.php

Twenty days later, Jessica Seinfeld went on The View to promote her cookbook and make more snide allegations about a woman who does have a legitimate gripe with her. (It may not be true, but there are striking similarities between those books that shouldn't just be brushed aside.) Jessica told Barbara and clan that Lapine is just jealous because she, Jessica, got to promote her book on Oprah. You can watch Jessica's tour-de-force here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2007/11/19/jessica-seinfeld-on-plagi_n_73306.html

All I can say is: unbelievable. I used to love Seinfeld but I find this feeling of revulsion welling up in me whenever I see his mug now. He needs to go away and take his attention-seeking wife with him.

Further Fictionalizing Twilight's Fiction?

I saw a trailer for Twilight last night and I'm kinda thinking I'm not going to go see it. Granted, I just finished the book so the details are fresh - and probably won't be at the end of next month - but in the three-minute trailer, it looks like the screenwriter took a lot of liberties with the storyline. Some are minor - in the book, after Edward saves Bella from nearly getting run over in the school parking lot, they lie on the ground together and she questions him, trying to figure out how he was there in a split second. In the trailer, it looks like he saves her and dashes off. The trailer also suggests that the ending will be a big showdown between Edward and James; that's a necessary change that I understand - you can't just have your main character black out and miss everything - but still, it's different.

I'm also not buying Cedric Diggory as Edward Cullen, mostly because I don't think he's good-looking enough. It's a mean thing to say but I think the point is well driven home in Twilight that Edward looks like a god. So I'm kinda surprised that they didn't pick someone who was just devastatingly handsome...though I suppose the white cake makeup doesn't help. (C'mon y'all, vampires are pasty.) Having said that, you know who I have always pictured as Edward Cullen, besides my friend of almost-the-same-name? Chuck Bass. And he's not handsome at all, but I can't help it...there was something in the early descriptions in Twilight that just locked in that comparison. Now when I see Gossip Girl, that's all I can think of...Chuck Bass as a vampire.

Alas poor Chuckles. Well, despite my lack of enthusiasm for the trailer, that hasn't dampened my curiousity for book two...I need to know what happens with Bella and Edward! So I caved today and bought New Moon. No doubt I'll be done shortly. :)

#22: Twilight, Stephenie Meyer

Yes! It's October 12 and I've just finished book #22. Maybe I'm just kidding myself, but I finally feel like I'm on track to reading 30 books this year, after multiple years of failure...thank god.

Helping me along the path is Twilight, which I just finished this morning. I really enjoyed it and see why it's a phenomenal bestseller (although a surprising number of readers on Amazon seem to disagree). Also, after poking around Stephenie Meyer's website, I have to say I am totally impressed with how down-to-earth and normal she seems, and I totally want her to come over for coffee.

I found Twilight to be shockingly simple, although not in a bad way; Meyer's writing is really basic and uncomplicated, and while that's something that bothered the Amazon people, I found that it enabled me to slip into the story and envision the scenarios for myself. I'd never really thought of writing that way, and would compare it to another book I love, Michael Ondaatje's In the Skin of a Lion...with that book, you can't really get ahold of the images until you parse through the writing to decipher what he means. Anyway, the simplicity of Twilight was something that struck me early on.

So the basic storyline, for anyone who doesn't know, is the love story between ordinary Bella Swan and vampire Edward Cullen. Bella moves from Phoenix to Forks, Washington in the middle of her junior year and suddenly finds herself as the center of much male attention. (As a side note, I think I liked the story immediately because I could totally personally relate: Our family moved to another state in the middle of my sophmore year; it was annoying, nerve-wracking, and also very strange to be the center of attention in a town where nothing ever really changes.) Despite her newfound popularity, Bella only has eyes for Edward, her gorgeous, abnormally pale lab partner. (As another side note, I have a college friend whose name is very similar to Edward Cullen and it was a weird mental image. Sorry Ed.) Bella and Edward spend the novel trying to be in love and stay out of love, for Bella's sake, until the end - when vampire James enters the picture and decides he wants a challenge and tries to steal Bella for himself.

It's kind of a funny book because not much happens, even though it's about 500 pages long. For the most part, it's a lot of push and pull between Bella and Edward...she tries to figure him out and he tries to resolve his feelings. But it was still captivating, and sweet, and I was entranced with their love story. At times, some of the bigger, unresolved questions bothered me - I don't know if Stephenie Meyer tackles them in the next books, but I found it was better to let them go and not think about them. Like, for example, how can Bella and Edward sustain this relationship? It seems to me that she's going to have to become a vampire - and she wants to - but so far, it's not in Edward's character to do it (and he gave up his opportunity in Twilight to let fate make it happen). But then do you really want her to become a vampire? Their age difference also kind of bothered me; it's fine at the beginning when Edward is supposed to be 16-ish, but then I realized that no, he's really a mature adult man having a relationship with a teenager. But again, I tried to put aside these little nitpicky questions; I don't know, I guess I think that a young adult novel doesn't have to stand up next to War and Peace, and that's okay.

So anyway...I devoured (haha) Twilight in less than 48 hours and am now eagerly awaiting New Moon to come into the library. In the meantime, I will probably get back to Witch of Portobello by Paulo Coelho. I had started it just before I got Escape and was entranced with the first 10 pages I got to read of it. :)

#21: Escape, Carolyn Jessop with Laura Palmer

I really didn't intend to read two memoirs about the FLDS in a row, honestly I didn't. But as soon as I was done with Stolen Innocence, Escape had arrived for me at the library and I wasn't going to be able to renew it. As you know from my post on Stolen Innocence, I hated it - it disturbed me that Elissa Wall played the victim, poor her, and she just wanted to put it behind her until everyone forced her to come forward and be the star witness and save the day. Blech. So I was a wee bit nervous about Escape, but I really liked it. I thought she did a far superior job of just laying out the story without heaping on the judgment, and also of just illuminating the general practices of the FLDS, mixing that in with her own personal story. She really struck me as a normal, level-headed woman who was born into the wrong household.

And what a story. It's riveting and horrifying, much like a car crash that you can't look away from. The day after her wedding, she comments: "My happiness, in their [her parents'] view, was dependent on my willingness to do the will of God, no matter how painful that might be to me." I'd say that sentence pretty much sums up the book and the FLDS philosophy. Since God's will comes through a man, be it prophet, father, or husband, a woman has to do what the man in her life commands, with no argument or question.

Carolyn is married to 50-year-old Merril Jessop when she's 18. He asks the prophet for her specifically, thinking Carolyn is the name of her prettier sister, in the hopes that her father, his business partner, will drop a lawsuit against him once they're family. He already has three other wives and soon acquires two more. He truly loves one of the wives, Barbara, and while he "does his duty" with the rest, he treats Barbara like the only wife...which in turn gives this woman the power to order them around (she's supposedly passing on Merril's "will") and take out any disobedience on the children. It's sick and it's so frustrating to read about that I can't imagine what it must have been like to live in that situation. Not surprisingly, the six women are constantly fighting amongst themselves, hoping to undermine each other and gain Merril's favor. The book is basically about Carolyn's struggle to survive in the household and later, to escape it.

Escape contains example after example of overwhelming ridiculousness. I'll limit myself to just one, otherwise we'd be here all day. "When I ordered shrimp, Merril threw a fit. Merril doesn't eat shrimp, which meant I couldn't either. It was wrong for me to like something he didn't. As his wife, I was to become one with him in every way...A devout wife would never even desire to eat something her husband disliked." And in the end, she gets the steak. Seriously?

Speaking of steak, it's also crazy how they treat medical care...when someone gets sick, it's not biology, it's a correction from God that they're not living in harmony with the husband. When second wife Ruth's son is hospitalized after a dirt bike wreck, the doctors try to contact her and Merril, concerned that he might need an operation. Merril dismisses it, and forbids Ruth from going. When another son and later Merril go to visit him in the hospital, both times they disconnect the IV and take the kid out for a steak dinner. Seriously? And the thing is, I'm not sure that I believe someone as powerful as Merril Jessop believes that medicine is fake. I see him a bit like Henry the 8th, which I realize may sound totally random. But after 60 years of holing absolute power over 6 women and like 60 kids, he has a distorted, puffed-up view of himself and his personal power. He can no longer see himself, or life for that matter, realistically. The whole thing is just crazy.

However, Escape does contain some editing mistakes that hurt the book because the story gets confusing. For the most part, it was little details on the page, but they made me stop and go, huh?, which hurt the flow. For example, on page 69: "I didn't know Brigham at all. We had never been in school together, plus he was a year ahead of me. But at the public school, we had a class together..." The only problem? Carolyn is a senior. So how can he be a year ahead but still in school with her? The detail stuck out to me because a few pages back, it had been a big deal when she returned to high school after being forced to take correspondence classes, and she was happily placed in as a senior.

But overall, I enjoyed it and would recommend it.

Next up: Twilight

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

I saw the trailer for this movie the other day, although I can't remember where (on TV, maybe?). My first thought was: Wow, the cinematography looks amazing, much in the style of The English Patient. My second thought was: Gee, this story sounds incredibly familiar, but the title of the book I'm thinking of has nothing to do with Benjamins or buttons. Hmm.

The Brad Pitt/Cate Blanchett film - out December 25- is about a man who's born old. Unlike everyone else, he ages backwards. According to IMDB, he starts out in 1918 as a wrinkled 80-year-old man, and no doubt goes through some very bizarre experiences as the world changes and he gets younger.

The storyline sounds very much like Martin Amis' novel Time's Arrow, published in 1991 (I think). It's been years since I've read this book, so my memory is a bit fuzzy, but it's about a doctor on his deathbed, at the end of a cruel and disastrous life. Part of him is reborn, an innocent, unknowing part, and travels backwards from the present. It turns out that the doctor worked at a concentration camp, but to this new part, traveling backwards, the doctor gives life instead of taking it away. It's very weird but as I recall, I really liked it.

I'm thinking I need to read it again. But with a little Googling, I'm also realizing that The Curious Case of Benjamin Button has its own source: an F. Scott Fitzgerald short story. I love Fitzgerald, I wish I had had the chance to pal around with him and Ernest Hemingway in Europe in the 20s. So I'm thinking I should read this story too and see how they compare. Then I'll blog again...

Sex and the City goes Gossip Girl

I've decided to branch out a little bit: I'm going to start blogging here about anything book related that catches my fancy. And since there's no time like the present, here we are to talk about the recently announced new Sex and the City books.

HarperCollins announced last week (what can I say, I'm behind) that they have signed SATC novelist to write two young adult novels called The Carrie Diaries, for a 2010 release. I've pasted the press release below, although it doesn't say much, except that the books will take us back to Carrie's high school years.

I'm appalled, and also shocked that I haven't heard cries of horror from any other source. Why am I shocked and appalled? Because Candace Bushnell didn't create the Sex and the City that we know; Darren Star and a team of writers, including Greg Berendt and Cindy Chupack, did. Personally, I think Bushnell is a bad writer; I tried to read both Sex and the City and 4 Blondes, and couldn't stomach either of them. I think Bushnell writes to shock (rather than, say, enlighten, or produce great work) and her style is not my cup of tea.

But personal opinions aside, Candace Bushnell DID NOT create the Sex and the City phenomenon. Her book is a collection of newspaper columns she penned about her life; she didn't really create any of the storylines that people so loved about the show. (See The Guardian link below for more on that.) For the most part, the show stuck to the present-day, but there were hints about Carrie's past - most memorably, the return of her high school boyfriend Jeremy (played by David Duchovny) who was in NYC for out-patient looney-bin treatment. So does Bushnell use that storyline that she didn't create because fans know it? For that matter, does she use Carrie-the-TV-character's characteristics, even though that's not the woman in her original book? I don't know who proposed The Carrie Diaries to whom, but I do know that Candace Bushnell was the wrong choice to pen these novels. What, was Cindy Chupack not available?

Here's The Guardian to enlighten us further:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2008/may/29/candacebushnellismoreimpor

Press release:
http://www.time.com/time/arts/article/0,8599,1842013,00.html

#20: Stolen Innocence, Elissa Wall

No need to beat around the bush: I HATED THIS BOOK. The use of caps should tell all. I was curious if other people felt the same way so I looked up the reviews on Amazon; I'm totally surprised to see that most people enjoyed the book, although like A Mighty Heart, I wonder if people are not separating the intriguing and heartrending subject matter from the quality and tone of the actual work.

I'm going to try to keep this short, as I could go on and on with my complaints. At first, the book captivated me - and I couldn't put it down - up until I hit the middle section, when Elissa is married off to her cousin, Allen Steed. After that, I found it intolerable; by the time I reached the last 70 pages or so, I basically raced through it, just wanting to get to the end. I've purposely waited a few days since finishing it to write this post so I wouldn't go off - and who would've thought a non-fiction book could make a girl so angry?

The book's subtitle explains the plot in a nutshell: "My Story of Growing Up in a Polygamous Sect, Becoming a Teenage Bride, and Breaking Free of Warren Jeffs." Elissa grows up outside of Salt Lake City in a polygamous household; her father has 24 kids with three wives. But there are problems within the family and her father is stripped of wives at various times as punishment. Eventually, Elissa's mother, Sharon, is married off to another man in Hildale, where the church is essentially headquartered. Throughout it all, Elissa's siblings question the faith and the kids are labeled as troublemakers. Then one day, her new father tells the family (he has 15 wives living there!) that the prophet has had a revelation from God that 14-year-old Elissa is to be married. She freaks, and then freaks out even more when she finds out it's to her first cousin Allen, whom she despises. After the wedding, which happens in the middle of the book, Elissa tries to fight off her husband's sexual advances, suffers several miscarriages, takes breaking church rules to a whole new level, meets someone else, gets pregnant, and flees the church once Warren implies that she's going to be sacrificed to pay for her sins. The book ends with Warren Jeffs' trial and conviction.

POOR ME, THE VICTIM
The title should have been the first clue, but I found Elissa's willing victimization of herself infuriating. She presents herself as a complete, 100% victim - that is, until she starts presenting herself as a martyred hero. Yes, Warren Jeffs is the devil, but that doesn't automatically make Elissa a saint; life does not happen in black and white. The book uses the passive tense constantly (everything happens to Elissa and her family) but the unfolding of events contradicts her own argument that she was totally helpless. As a result, it makes her an unreliable narrator; once I realized she was twisting the story, I had a hard time believing what she had to say. She definitely, purposefully broke the rules of the church, over and over again, from little things like watching banned movies to big things like having an affair when she's already married. And while, from the outside, her actions seem justified (or, at least, she justified them) because the church's dictates are absolutely ridiculous, she was a willing member of that church. She saw siblings and friends leave, and while it would have been a difficult choice, she could have made it; she chose to stay. And she stays until the end, until she's about to get booted out or sacrificed. It reminds me of that scene in Cold Mountain, when Renee Zellweger's character says, "They call this war a cloud over the land. But they made the weather and then they stand in the rain and say, 'Shit, it's raining.'" I could go on, but I won't, so I'll just say this in closing the point: Elissa chooses to remain a part of the FLDS. She keeps breaking the rules (and disobeying her husband and the prophet's orders on that subject), and then can't understand why she's being punished. I am certainly NOT, NOT, NOT justifying Warren Jeffs' actions - rather, it's that Elissa courts trouble and then gets upset when she gets in trouble. If she wants to break the repressive rules, fine. If she wants to run away, fine. I applaud both those courses of action; she's grown up in a brain-washing cult. What bugs me is that she wants it both ways: She wants to stay in a church that says the prophet dictates all, but when she doesn't like what the prophet has to say, she tries to circumvent the "revelation"...and never recognizes her own responsibiliy in the situation. It's this lack of awareness that I found completely infuriating.

POOR ALLEN
He's a tough one to talk about, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that the book unfairly crucified him. So basically, Elissa hates him because she feels he bullied her when they were younger, and is hysterical from the moment she finds out he's her intended. Although it's never explicitly stated, the book implies that the prophet is marrying Elissa off to keep her in check. Allen's duty is basically to make her fall in line - and he's supposed to do this is by impregnating her. (The FLDS controls women by keeping them uneducated and pregnant, and telling them that they can't get to heaven without their husbands.) Since Elissa hates him and knows absolutely zero about sex, she freaks on their wedding night. He ends up forcing her time and time again and she comes to abhor him. It's tough to talk about him because he's raping her; automatically, you're supposed to feel like he's evil (and in the book, he's equated with Warren Jeffs). But I think that's an easy label from the outside: After the book spends hundreds of pages on how the prophet controls the flock, I think you also start to see how Allen too is being forced. He's 19 years old when they get married; he's emotionally immature and pretty uneducated, having been raised in this isolated community. His entire life, he's been taught and experience has shown him that he's responsible for what the wives do, and he can be stripped of his home and family at any time on the prophet's word. And the thing is, Armageddon isn't some vague future event; no, Warren Jeffs starts telling them that it's coming, and like, tomorrow. It just seems like Allen was under an enormous amount of pressure. Elissa gives many examples where Allen would bring her flowers or write her a love note; in every instance, she says it was an insincere gesture, a lie, but when you take away her editorializing, you see a guy who really tried to make an effort in his arranged marriage. Elissa, on the other hand, NEVER makes an effort even though she lies to the prophet (and herself) when she says she does...which leads right back up to the lack of awareness. I could add some quotes but I'm going to stop now as I'm getting riled up thinking about it.

Yes, Allen Steed does some awful things. But so do a lot of other people in that book, in the name of religion and salvation. Her mother leaves one of her sons on the side of the road after he gets kicked out due to bad behavior; Elissa's current husband, Lamont, signs an affidavit that helps an FLDS man regain custody of his children after his wife takes them and flees, as Lamont thinks it will help him get back in Warren's good graces (it doesn't). And for God's sake, no woman in that church is married to a man of her choice, including her mother. Elissa never seems to recognize that her situation is no different than any other woman's; she's "raped" and the others "submit" and it's semantics. (I believe that it's wrong, ABSOLUTELY, but I have also never agreed and would never agree to be a member of that church and uphold that belief system.) Elissa never recognizes that these practices have been happening since the church was founded; Warren may have tightened the prophet's grip but he certainly didn't invent the basic tenets. So why does every ordinary person get a free pass except Allen? I guess I feel like if you're going to write a book, you need to try and be objective about the situation. And even with a ghostwriter (and an editor, for that matter), Stolen Innocence doesn't make an effort -- it's like one big Burn Book.

Alright, I'm seriously going to stop now. I will say, though, books like this are why I started this blog. I really wanted to talk about works that I loved or hated. Out of school, people read different books at different times (or no books at all), so it's so hard to have a conversation. I decided that if I have to be content with talking with myself, then so be it.

#19: The Zoo on the Road to Nablus, Amelia Thomas

I was so excited to get this book - my city library didn't have it, and I had to request it through another route - but unfortunately, The Zoo on the Road to Nablus didn't live up to my expectations. I'd seen it in a publisher's catalogue some months ago and become intrigued with it mostly because of the title. The logic, however, is random: I loved, loved, loved Anita Diamant's The Red Tent and the city where Dinah is "stolen" (to be kind) is Shechem, or Nablus today. I tend to be pretty fascinated with how towns change through the eras, and this one has always stuck with me. Since it's not often that you see Nablus mentioned, I became intrigued.

So, back on topic...The Zoo on the Road to Nablus garnered generally good reviews, but I thought the book really lacked narrative tension. Reading a book is like riding a wave: You paddle out and pick the one you're going to ride, then you get carried along as it builds, builds, builds until the wave finally breaks in one glorious, crazy moment. Not this book, though: Thomas just kept paddling and never picked her wave.

The book is about the Qalqilya Zoo in the West Bank, the only public zoo in Palestinian territory. The zoo's dedicated veterinarian, Dr. Sami Khader, dreams of turning it into an international zoo - and while it's a noble cause, the idea doesn't seem feasible and makes Khader immediately appear naive. But that's okay, the region is in for some rough times; the problem is, the goal never gets replaced with a more realistic path and as a result, there's no trail laid out for the reader. Multiple times I wondered where the book was heading, as the situation became more dire. And what happens in the end? I would say that things are worse at the end than at the beginning: The sheep and remaining giraffe have been poisoned, the camel's been shot, and Khader doesn't get his promotion or pay increase. And while a happy ending isn't essential (and can't be forced), I never felt like she offered any great lesson that emerged from the bad times, either.

So my advice? Read Babylon's Ark instead.

#18: See Jane Write, Sarah Mlynowki and Farrin Jacobs

In other words, "A Girl's Guide to Writing Chick Lit." I picked this one up on a whim at the library after flipping through it at Borders. Despite the egregious title, I have to say it's one of the better "how to write" books I've read. It covers both the basics and also gets into nitpicky detail, and while I already knew a lot of the points, it got my brain churning and made me realize a couple of things about pacing and character development. It also reads incredibly quickly. And, probably most important, it avoided my biggest pet peeve in books with sidebars: The sidebars fall naturally within the text, at breaks. I seriously hate it when you have to flip back and forth between the pages, or stop in the middle of the main text to take in the sidebar...so annoying. So I highly recommend this one.

I did have to laugh though in reading the Grammar and Punctuation chapter. The authors spend a couple pages detailing the differences between words like "effect" and "affect" and "bear" and "bare." Now, I'm not generally a snob about these things, but I'm thinking if you don't already know the difference between these words, a novel isn't in your future. Dentistry or astrophysics, maybe. I'm not sure that I even remember how to figure out the volume of a cube (length times width times height?), but I also realized early on that the sciences were not my calling. You know what I mean?

Next up: I've started reading Brideshead Revisited but it's slow-going. I'm not sure I'm going to make it through. I just found out that The Zoo on the Road to Nablus is waiting for me at the library (finally!), and I might be tempted to switch over. The only problem is, when I drop a book, I rarely go back. So we'll see if Brideshead and I can tough it out...maybe I'll just go see the movie. :)

#17: Slammerkin, Emma Donoghue

I've just finished Slammerkin today and I really enjoyed it. I had it on my to-read list for years but never seemed to get around to it until I suddenly found about two weeks ago that I wasn't terribly thrilled with anything on my bookshelf. So I picked it up at the library, and glad I did.

It's certainly an interesting book. Young Mary Saunders grows up poor, the daughter of a London seamstress, but hankers for the finer things in life. Her biggest desire is to own a red ribbon that she's seen one of the prostitutes wearing. She tries to get one from the peddler by giving him a kiss, but instead he rapes her; when her mother discovers Mary's pregnant, she throws her out of the house and Mary ends up becoming a prostitute to survive. Light reading, huh? The weirdest thing, though, is that I never particularly liked Mary and yet I still really liked the book. She's intelligent and unlike most of the girls she keeps company with, she gets multiple chances to escape prostitution and have a chance at a "normal" life -- but instead, she throws the opportunities away, and for no real discernible reason besides momentary whims. I didn't particularly like Wuthering Heights because I thought the characters were silly, so I'm not sure why the same thing works here, but it does.

Next up: I'm not sure what book I shall pick up next, although I have the two about polygamy and Mormons that recently came out (Escape and Stolen Innocence, I think). I also have some Chick Lit book that I read a good review of in People, though can't remember the title. The Olympics has been throwing me off, so time will tell I suppose!

#16: The Heretic's Daughter, Kathleen Kent

The Heretic's Daughter comes out next month, and I had an advance reading copy that I decided to actually, er, read. In short, Kathleen Kent reimagines the true story of her ancestor Martha Carrier, hanged as a witch in Salem, and her daughter Sarah. When the family moves to Andover in 1690, they bring with them smallpox; it sets them off on the wrong foot with the townspeople and once the witch frenzy begins, sharp-tongued Martha and her children stand accused and are thrown into jail.

I thought the book was okay. It reminded me a lot of Geraldine Brook's Year of Wonders in both topic (a community tries to survive after a tailor brings the plague to town) and tone. Both are written in a style of the past, to make it seem like you are reading something from the 17th century, but I don't think that device totally works in either book, or in, say, The Crucible. These writing styles have simply fallen out of favor -- as tedious, restrained, and boring. The Heretic's Daughter also relies much too heavily on simile and metaphor for description (there must be one per page, at least; now I know why English teachers were always trying to make us stop!), as well as one-dimensional characterizations of people as either good or bad, with little in-between.

Well, after all that, it sounds like the book was terrible, but it's not. It's just simply okay. It's obviously not the best book I've read, but it's certainly not the worst. So, moving on...

#15: Basic Black, Cathie Black

I interviewed Cathie Black, president of Hearst Magazines, for a story a couple of weeks ago and read her book, which came out in hardcover last year, in preparation. Although I'm generally not one for the business books, I liked Basic Black. Her writing style is friendly and straightforward, and it's as much a memoir as a how-to. But even more, her anecdotes about mistakes she witnessed and learned from jived pretty well with things that had been happening at my now-former workplace. And honestly, it felt gratifying to see these situations basically replicated and have Black say, no that was wrong, we should have done x or y instead. Because no one actually wants to work in an office like The Office, you know? But I'm getting off topic.

I'd recommend Basic Black and plan to give my copy to one of my former co-workers. So two thumbs up.

#13 and #14: Double Love and Secrets, Francine Pascal

In case you don't immediately recognize the titles (whaaa?), Double Love and Secrets were the first two Sweet Valley High Books, published in 1983. Random House began rereleasing updated versions of the series earlier this year (I thik #4's just about to come out) and a friend and I started reminiscing about reading them way back when, which led me to track down some used paperbacks on Amazon...and here we are.

Sadly, the books aren't great, mostly because the characters are stereotypes and the writing is pretty bland (breaking Composition 101 rule #1: Show, don't tell). At age 12, of course, I didn't realize this; I just wanted to be a blond, move to California, have a twin magically appear beside me, and just get to high school already! I don't remember how far I got into the series before I grew out of it, although I'm guessing likely into the 70s, at least. But seriously, these books pretty much taught me everything my tender mind thought it knew about boys and s-e-x in the 6th grade. They were so influential, in fact, that I can still remember being given the first copy: I was at a sleepover at my best friend Alison's house, and I can still totally picture standing there in the bedroom when she gave me the hand-me-down from her older sister.

So I won't criticize the writing style or the plots; Francine Pascal and her team of ghostwriters likely never intended for the books to be read by adults. So I'll just smile and remember what it was like to be 12. Ah, 12...how fast it all goes.

But, should you want to be an adult and live (or re-live) the magic of Sweet Valley High, but don't want to go it alone, check out this blog: http://thedairiburger.wordpress.com/category/sweet-valley-high/ There you'll find one dedicated blogger and many fans wanting to do the same thing!

#12: Love the One You're With, Emily Giffin

Usually my mother and I don't share the same taste in books, and she didn't like this one at all. She said, and I quote, "I don't understand how someone could be so obsessed." And while I disagree with that point, I thought Emily Giffin's 4th novel just lacked the character development that could make you believe someone could be so obsessed. I really liked her first two books, I thought Baby Proof was good but not great, and this one falls into the average Chick Lit category. I'm not sure now I will be so enthused to pick up her next book.

I almost always fold down pages that have some thought - a new vocabulary word, an idea - that I want to go back to and remember. Not this book, though. I only folded down pages that contained examples of things I wanted to point out here. This book just lacked substance; the characters were so cookie-cutter and one-dimensional.

Here's the basic set-up (with the spoiler, sorry): Our heroine Ellen dates Leo, a committment-phobic man, in NYC. She's devastated when he dumps her, and basically can't forget about him - even though she ends up marrying the rich, handsome, but boring brother of her best friend. She pretends like she's happy, and she is, at least passably. Until she runs into Leo on the street. He wants to revive their friendship, she starts fantasizing, she sees him in secret, and this time around, he treats her like a princess, telling her everything she ever wanted to hear. It eventually comes to a head: She has to choose between her husband and Leo. What does she do? She's about to do the dirty deed when her sister calls and tells her it's the wrong decision. So she leaves. And then spends the remaining 5 pages justifying why, in fact, she had never settled in the first place, despite the previous 200-odd pages to the contrary. So predictable, so boring!

Ugg. Seriously.

#11: Babylon's Ark, Lawrence Anthony

I don't have too much specifically to say about this book, except that I really enjoyed it. Subtitled "The Incredible Wartime Rescue of the Baghdad Zoo," it's basically about this guy - author Lawrence Anthony - who decides that you can't just leave captive animals to die in a war zone. And he's absolutely right. As he writes (with his cowriter, I should add, just because) toward the end of the book, "Our inability to think beyond ourselves or to be able to cohabit with other life-forms in what is patently a massive collaborative quest for survival is surely a malady that pervades the human soul." At times the chronology was confusing, but overall, Babylon's Ark is just a fascinating account of one man's quest to put things to right. I totally want to go visit his game reserve, Thula Thula, in Africa now.

The only thing I have to point out, though, is the factual error about halfway through about Patton's rescue during WW2 of Austria's famed Lipizzanner horses. The book says that the horses rescued from Hostau, Czechoslovakia were shipped to the United States, but that's not true - and the only reason I know this is that I just wrote a story on a herd in Illinois. The horses were actually returned to the Austrians (hence the continuation of the Spanish Riding School in Vienna today).

Anyway, overall, two thumbs up...

#10: A Long Way Gone, Ishmael Beah

Subtitled "Memoirs of a Boy Soldier," this book was an interesting and autobiographical look at Sierra Leone's Civil War. Overall, I thought it was well-written, but I'm not sure if I totally agree that the chosen format was the best way to go. The author decided to tell the story the way that he experienced it, and since he was 12 years old when his village was engulfed in the fighting, he really only understood the war as it personally affected him. He didn't know anything about the politics, and as a result, you the reader never really understand why they were fighting in the first place. (I suppose you could say that about all wars over ideology and selfishly wanting to hog resources, but that's a different story.) I ended up Googling the subject about halfway through the book, and it helped, but I think the book suffered a little bit from the lack of contextual info. On the other hand, Beah would have lost that aimless, innocent quality that leads him through the book. So I don't know - maybe an introduction would have helped? (After all, you can't just rely on what you learned from Blood Diamond, right? One of my most favorite movies by the way, and an inspiration toward that rough but mighty path that is journalism.)

I was also struck by how ridiculous all these wars in Africa have been - Darfur, Rwanda, and Uganda come to mind. It really makes you wonder what people are thinking. I don't think that there are any fundamental differences between Africans and Americans (and you can hardly lump one continent all together as sharing the same motivation), so what is it that possesses people to turn into total barbarians? What is it that possesses adults to drug young children and use them as weapons? Especially in these third-world communities that were formerly so family-oriented. I definitely don't think that we're inherently more civilized (hello, Hiroshima; hello, Guantanemo Bay), but there's something about the structure that we have built that keeps the general population from such base actions. It makes my head hurt trying to think what exactly the difference is.

I guess, too, that I always sort of saw these situations in terms of the good guys and the bad guys, and this book pretty much flips that naive idea on its head. In Sudan, Al-Bashir and his government are evil and the Darfurians are helpless victims just trying to fight back; in Uganda, Joseph Kony is enlisting child soldiers and the government is just trying to keep the madman at bay. Likely not true, I realize. In Sierra Leone, they're all just warped. Beah ends up on the government's side simply because he and his friends wander into their camp first; they easily could have been picked up by the other side. It was total chance, but regardless, the children on both sides end up drugged out of their minds, indoctrinated by Rambo, and spilling blood for reasons they couldn't tell you. They can't see that they're doing what people did to them - stealing their innocence, destroying lives and villages. And of course they can't - they're children. The whole thing just makes me so angry.

There's an interesting fable at the end of the book. One of the village elders would tell it to the children: "There was a hunter who went into the bush to kill a monkey. He had looked for only a few minutes when he saw the monkey sitting comfortably in the branch of a low tree...Just when he was about to pull the trigger, the monkey spoke: 'If you shoot me, your mother will die, and if you don't, your father will die.'" And then the children would have to figure out what they would do. Beah says that when he was a child, before the war, no one would ever answer, as all the children were sitting in the presence of their parents. But now, at the end of the book, he presents the answer that he silently came up with at age 7: "I concluded to myself that if I were the hunter, I would shoot the monkey so that it would no longer have the chance to put other hunters in the same predicament."

Huh. It's the same sort of question that you've heard was often presented to Jews during the Holocaust. But I'm a little troubled by Beah's answer...I think he's saying that you take the aggressor out so that the situation can never be replicated. But who's the aggressor here? It seems like you'd have to have taken out an awful lot of people in Sierra Leone to stop the madness...but isn't that what caused the madness. It's a troubling ending, but I guess it's easy to judge from my shiny happy American bedroom.

So what's the right answer? I always thought in this game of logic that the hunter was supposed to choose himself. But I guess that's not how it works out in real life.

#9: The Sanctuary, Raymond Khoury

Supposedly Khoury's first novel, The Last Templar, was quite good, following a well-marked path to success laid out by The Da Vinci Code. But The Sanctuary? Not so much. This isn't a genre I particularly enjoy reading, but I feel like if I've taken the time to read a thriller, then the author ought to take the time to thrill me. Is it just me?

I'd say the main flaw is that the story is totally predictable. While I didn't have every detail exactly right, I had the main arc figured out from about page 20. It also lacked the strong historical story, which is what separated The Da Vinci Code from your run-of-the-mill paperback. There was a little something about alchemy, and how the quest to turn base metals into gold eventually led alchemists to try their hand at eternal life, but that's hardly got the heft of Jesus makin' whoopie with Mary Magdalene in a 2,000-year old conspiracy.

Ah, conspiracy. I thought I had learned something here about how the government can use our cell phones to spy on us by remotely turning on the microphone. Page 224 instructs us, "Most cell-phone users didn't realize that their phones weren't necessarily fully powered down, even if they were switched off. You just needed to set the alarm on your phone for a time when it's switched off and watch it light up to see that." I can't tell you how excited I was to learn that tidbit - I even told my brother. But guess what? I've just tried it, and it doesn't work. My phone didn't do anything. I'm both disappointed and relieved, but thank you Verizon Wireless for protecting my American right to privacy.

On one last, bitchy note that added some humor: The book jacket says that author Raymond Khoury is, "an acclaimed screenwriter and producer for both television and film." I know Dutton's got to sell the book, but that's not exactly true. According to IMDB, he's only worked on 3 shows, none of which I've heard of and none of which lasted terribly long. Sure, he's the screenwriter of the mini-series version of The Last Templar, but that's sort of a given, no?

#6: R is for Ricochet, Sue Grafton

Huh, looking over my previous blogs, I see that I forgot to blog this one. (Hopefully I haven't forgotten any others.) Well, it's been at least a month since I finished it and I don't remember it terribly well...Kinsey is hired by an older gentleman to pick up his daughter from jail and watch over her the first few days and help her readjust. Okay, now that I'm thinking about it, it's coming back.

Anyway, can't go wrong with Sue Grafton. This is the third or fourth one I've read in the series -- I don't seek them out, and instead read them when they come to me. (My dad gave me this one; I bought another one in a used bookstore on the tiny island of Paros, Greece; etc.) But they're always enjoyable, and isn't that what matters?

#8: Killing Mr. Griffin, Lois Duncan

I finished this one last week, pretty quickly. It was good but not great - which is not so surprising, considering it was written for pre-teens. I was crazy about Lois Duncan's books when I was that age and was curious to see how I would feel about my childhood favorites now (I picked up Madeline L'Engel's A Ring of Endless Light and put it down just as quickly; I have high hopes for the Sweet Valley High series, the books that taught me about boyfriends and sex and bad girls, that I plan to pick up next).

Anyway, the most interesting thing was realizing how much my life had changed. Killing Mr. Griffin is set in Albuquerque, a city that was as foreign to me as Algiers when I was a kid (although perhaps just as dusty). I had no conception of it, I'm sure. And as an adult, I've lived in Santa Fe, just an hour north. It was just so strange to read the book and be able to picture the Sandias, knowing that as a kid I had no idea that one day I would be able to do that. No doubt this is more than Lois Duncan ever intended for her book, but it was an interesting trip down memory lane nonetheless. Moving on...

Next up: Raymond Khoury's The Sanctuary. I'm somewhere around page 50 right now. It's not great -- the language is a little overwrought -- but maybe it will go quickly and perhaps even improve.