Not necessarily due to lack of time, but really I haven't read anything worth reviewing in a few months. Isn't that depressing?
So -- here's your chance to participate! Have you read a fantastic book lately? Lay it on us, if so!
Posted 07-Apr-09 by:
Kama Sue Siegel
Schwabe Williamson & Wyatt
I think everyone in the U.S. should read this book. (Originally, that was going to be my entire review, but I figured my four regular readers would want me to justify why I think everyone should read it.)
Being a Barbara Kingsolver fan (I have read everything she's ever written), there was really no excuse for me not to have read this book sooner. Basically, I thought I already knew what she was going to say: something along the lines of, "eat locally-grown/produced food because it's better for the environment and your community." Well, yes. She does say that, but she (and her co-authors) give the reader the information, tools, and reality-based reasons to make such changes.
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle's plot is simple -- after living for most of her life in the Tucson area, Kingsolver decided to move her family back to her ancestral homestead in SW Virginia. Her reasons for this move were mostly environmental, but also familial -- she wanted her daughters to be closer to the Appalachian side of her family. A bucolic farm in a "holler" awaited their arrival, prepared to cultivate the bulk of the family's food needs. Kingsolver faithfully recorded the successes (and failures) of an entire year of sourcing their food from not farther than an hour's drive away. As it turns out, there were far more successes than failures. More importantly, the Kingsolver-Hopp family learned an uncountable number of lessons about what it means to be "locavores."
I won't lie to you. There is plenty of discussion about the politics of food in this country -- a rather hot topic right now, as evinced by books such as The Omnivore's Dilemma and The End of Food, films such as King Corn, and various bloggers, columnists, and organizations committed to improving our food. However, Kingsolver (a mom) manages to not sound like your mom telling you to eat your [local] veggies. She provides real-life examples and humorous anecdotes (not to mention delicious recipes from her daughter Camille) to illustrate just how realistic it is to support local and sustainable food producers. Kingsolver's writing -- as always -- is warm, engaging and colorful. Hopp's sidebars, sprinkled throughout the book, are not only informative, but encourage the reader to investigate what he or she can do in his or her own life to make such changes possible. Kingsolver and Hopp both make it clear that, no matter your paycheck or surroundings (urban or rural), there is something you can do to ensure the survival of the small, local farm/dairy/mill that you might not otherwise have known existed.
P.S. To get you started, here is a directory of farmers markets throughout Oregon and Washington.
Posted 05-Jul-08 by:
Kama Sue Siegel
Schwabe Williamson & Wyatt
This was another Powells Review-of-the-Day that I forgot about until it arrived at the library. It is a quiet, unassuming little book, cleverly disguising the wealth of storytelling it contains. It reminds me of a TARDIS or a clown car -- bigger on the inside than what it seems on the outside.
A Handbook to Luck is a three-part story concerning three very different characters. The first is Enrique Florit, a Cuban-American boy who is the voice of reason in his family, which consists of only himself and his flamboyant magician father. The second is Marta Claros, a desperately poor Salvadoran girl who manages to escape to El Norte through sheer will and fortitude (and, of course, luck). The third is Leila Rezvani, an Iranian girl who is born into privilege, but who is desperately unhappy with her situation. The book starts in 1968 and briefly touches down in each character's life every few years until the early 80s.
Each of these characters' lives is affected by one or more tragic situations. Enrique's mother dies in a bizarre accident during one of his father's magic tricks; he spends most of the book blaming his father for her death, but never quite finding the right time to talk about it. Marta, coming of age in war-torn El Salvador, witnesses military atrocities vicariously through the eyes of her brother, and despairs of ever finding her beloved father, who disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Leila sense of self and culture is deeply affected when she grows up in pre-revolutionary Iran, moves to the United States for a few years, and then returns -- in an arranged marriage -- to the repressive and occasionally terrifying Khomeini-controlled Tehran.
The three characters' lives also briefly touch, in unexpected and tender ways. Garcia wields her writing like an assortment of tools; sometimes she uses the blunt, hammer-y ones and other times she chooses the most delicate chisel. She clearly loves her characters, including the secondary ones (Enrique's father, Marta's brother and husband). Although each character speaks from a first-person viewpoint, the reader is given -- ever so subtly -- just enough insight into what drives their behavior that we gain complete understanding about their circumstances and the choices they make. Many times the characters' choices bring tears to our eyes; other times they make us laugh out loud.
This book doesn't so much have a neat ending, as it trails off -- albeit with a wonderful image. The reader is given to understand that the characters' lives will continue as they have so far, sometimes making poor choices and sometimes enjoying good fortune. I enjoy these types of endings, as it encourages me to think about the book after it has been finished, and -- to me -- shows how deeply Garcia invests the reader in the lives of her characters. I also found myself thinking about the aptness of the title of the book; "luck" can go both ways, and it certainly does for Enrique, Marta, and Leila.
Posted 10-Jun-08 by:
Kama Sue Siegel
Schwabe Williamson & Wyatt
I'm doing the English major thing again -- compare and contrast. I actually didn't have this planned, but after I read the engaging and affecting Nineteen Minutes, I picked up something light and fluffy. I couldn't help noticing parallels, even though the two books' styles could not be farther apart.
Nineteen Minutes is about a Columbine-style school shooting, told from the points of views of the major players. At the center of the book is Peter Houghton: the picked-on, maladjusted loner who commits the act that shocks and horrifies the small New England town in which the book is set. Also prominently featured are Peter's parents, whose self-doubt and despair are treated with great delicacy and empathy by Picoult. (Actually, there isn't a single character whom Picoult doesn't portray sympathetically.) Peter's former best friend-turned-popular girl, Josie Cormier, survives the shootings, but doesn't remember a thing; unfortunately, Peter's attorney needs her to rediscover her memory before he can put her on the witness stand.
This book could easily have fallen into the traps of stereotyping and preachiness, but Picoult's skillful writing keeps it from doing so. She treats the edgy subject matter with just enough pathos that the reader isn't put off. Not everything about this book was unequivocally great, however: a slow-developing romance between two characters seems not only out of place but is also really predictable. Peter's attorney is a white man with an African-American wife, which Picoult takes every opportunity to point out. She seems to have thrown in there just for the sake of PC-ness (it doesn't ever become a factor in the plot).
Overall, however, I very much enjoyed Nineteen Minutes. It is not the first book I've read (and enjoyed) by Jodi Picoult, but it might be her best so far, in my opinion.
I Love You, Beth Cooper, by contrast, is a day in the life of Denis Cooverman, a human punching bag similar to Peter Houghton. Denis, however, is the class valedictorian and rolls with the punches, as it were. This book is also laugh-out-loud funny (evidently Larry Doyle used to be a writer for "The Simpsons").
I Love You, Beth Cooper covers a 24-hour period in Denis' life, during which he spills his guts to the entire graduating class (hence the title), is beaten up by his own skeleton, makes out with "like, the best girls' basketball player in the state," gets his shirt stolen by a family of raccoons, and fends off three large, hostile military guys armed only with a wet towel. It is, for sure, a night to remember, and each chapter has a picture of Denis as he appears after his latest adventure -- so, for example, one chapter shows him looking terrified and sweaty, but the next chapter shows him looking the same way, but adds the black eye that he gets from ineptly opening a bottle of champagne.
Although Denis and Peter are similar characters (bottom feeders in the social ocean), Peter lashes out (or, it can be argued, fights back), while Denis' self-defense mechanism kicks in whenever he senses danger. The reader spends a lot of time in each boy's head, but while Picoult does a great job of making Peter's actions seem reasonable, Doyle has no compunction about making the motivation for Denis' behavior as ridiculous as possible.
I know it seems kind of silly to compare these two books, but I couldn't help but think about the sequence of events that makes the low guy on the totem pole turn out ok and what makes him (or her) snap. I know it also seems silly to compare fictional characters, but hey, I certainly have plenty of practice.
Posted 15-May-08 by:
Kama Sue Siegel
Bullivant Houser Bailey
Yes, an oldie but goodie. Unfortunately, I have been plagued by a couple of books that I just couldn't finish. They were boring. Powells Review-A-Day, you have let me down! So I decided to switch gears. I heard on the Intertubes that they are making yet another movie out of this SF classic. Of course, I really enjoyed the David Lynch version, but I understand I was in the minority. Who doesn't like nearly-naked Sting, though?
But I digress.
Dune is commonly held to be one of the best -- if not the best -- Science Fiction book ever written. If you Google it, there are all sorts of superlatives and gushing about it. It did win both the Hugo and Nebula awards, so you know, nothing to sniff at.
So what's Dune about, anyway? It certainly has all the right elements to make a great story -- violence, treachery, battle scenes, betrayal, political intrigue, religious fanaticism (and the list goes on). So basically, here's a synopsis: all space travel is made possible by a mysterious material called "Spice" which comes from only one planet (Dune, also known as Arrakis). Many factions are struggling for control over the planet, and therefore over the production of Spice ("He who controls the Spice controls the Universe" is a commonly repeated refrain). At the start of the book, House Atreides, headed by Duke Leto, has been given ruling control over Arrakis by the Emperor (presumably of the Universe), and is moving his entire household there: the royal concubine Lady Jessica, his son Paul, and all of his retainers and advisors. However, in the background, the generations-old feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen (and we are told in no uncertain terms who the bad guys are) is being manipulated by the Emperor himself, as well as by a mysterious quasi-religious sect of women called the Bene Gesserit. Lady Jessica, mind you, just happens to be a member of this sect.
Once on Dune, a loyal advisor to Duke Leto betrays the Atreides family for his own purposes, setting into motion the hostile and bloody takeover of Arrakis by the House Harkonnen. Paul and Jessica escape the massacre and are last seen crash-landing in the middle of the desert. Arrakis being a particularly harsh world for the support of human life, they are presumed dead by the Harkonnens. Of course they are not. They are taken in by the native population of the planet, known as Fremen, who have adapted to the nearly waterless environment. Herbert details much about the everyday lives of the Fremen. The mannerisms, dress, and religious fervor of the Fremen is remarkably similar to some of the tenets of Islam, it must be pointed out. Evidently there is a prophecy among the Fremen that a man will come from offworld and lead them in a jihad against the ruling classes. This will allow them to control the Spice production and their own destiny, rather than be forced to labor for offworlders.
Paul Atreides fits neatly into the language of the prophecy, which ends up not being such an accident, but rather engineered for dozens of generations by the Bene Gesserit. The Fremen embrace Paul as their messiah, essentially, and he leads them into battle to reclaim their planet from of the Emperor and the Harkonnens.
There are a bunch of sequels, written by Frank Herbert himself, in addition to some prequels, written by his son and another Science Fiction author. I have not read any of the sequels, but I think I probably will now.
Posted 25-Apr-08 by:
Kama Sue Siegel
Bullivant Houser Bailey
As usual, I read this book based on the Powell's Review of the Day, and totally forgot what it was supposed to be about before I picked it up at the library.
The Raw Shark Texts is a cross between Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Jaws. I don't think I can explain it any other way. If you read Life of Pi, you probably know the feeling of a book staying with you long after you've finished it. I don't want to spoil Life of Pi for those of you who have yet to read it, but there are two possible stories within one. This book is similar, and the two alternatives are just as suddenly presented to the reader.
The novel is ostensibly about a man named Eric Sanderson (or is he?) who is suffering from and being treated by a psychologist for dissociative fugue. This condition has been brought about by the death of Eric's girlfriend, Clio, while the two of them are on vacation in Greece. When the book opens, Eric Sanderson (?) wakes up in a house not knowing where or who he is, and he is forced to figure it all out. During the approximately yearlong course of his figuring out, he essentially falls down his own personal rabbit hole. Following the Alice analogy, Eric meets many interesting characters, real or imagined, and also has scary adventures that bend the laws of physics. The only constant in his life is his cat, Ian.
This young author has written an engrossing and unusual book that can be confusing, but also has enough of the human element in it that the reader can identify with what's happening. Eric spends most of his time being bewildered, and the reader can certainly relate. But he also ends up accepting most of the strange things that happen to him, and I think that part of the brilliance of the book is that the reader also is able to take these events in stride.
It is difficult to give you any further details about this book without divulging some of the surprises or without having to go into a big long explanation. Although you may scratch your head sometimes while reading it, you will probably also end up concluding that it was a satisfying read.
Posted 27-Mar-08 by:
Kama Sue Siegel
Bullivant Houser Bailey
I finally got around to reading this - I'm sure I'm the last person on earth to do so, but whatever. I hate detective stories, and I hate mysteries, and those two factors were barely cancelled out by Chabon's excellent writing. (It's the same with the Jasper Fforde/Thursday Next novels also.) So with self- and detective-hating loathing, I picked up this book, shortly to be made into another no doubt Oscar-winning movie by the Coen brothers.
And surprise, surprise, I was torn while reading it. For one thing, I'm Jewish, so some of it made me giggle at Chabon's poking gentle fun at a whole settlement of Jews based in Sitka, Alaska. Yes, Alaska. The book is essentially an alternative history from the end of WWII until the present day. Israel never came to be in 1948, and instead a settlement was set up in Sitka to accommodate the Jews fleeing Europe. At the present time in the book, Sitka is to revert back to American control in a couple of months, and the Jewish citizens are understandably uneasy about what might happen.
This reversion is just a backdrop of the rest of the novel, however, which is (as I mentioned) really just a fairly straightforward detective novel. You can correct me on that, if you like - I probably have no idea what a "straightforward" detective novel looks like. Anyway, it's a murder of someone whom I can't really describe, since it would give away one of the better-kept secrets of the book.
Fortunately for me, Chabon is not only a fantastic prose wrangler, but of character-building also. His protagonist, Meyer Landsman, is a depressed, alcohol-soaked excuse for a human being (and detective). We meet many other colorful characters (one of my favorites being Zimbalist, who reminded me of Brick Top from the movie Snatch) during Landsman's pursuit of the murderer(s). He is aided [mostly] in his quest by his partner -- and cousin -- a steady half-Tlingit, half-Jewish giant of a man, and his ex-wife-slash-boss.
Chabon makes this book enjoyable not only because of its twists and turns, but also because of its humor and poignancy. There is an undercurrent of desperation in the motivation of some of the characters - due to the reversion - but as one of the characters points out, the citizens of Sitka are just fooling themselves into thinking that they ever had control of their little piece of land. No one can touch Chabon when he is combining this kind of hopelessness and frustration with wry humor, and at the end of the day, I can safely say that I enjoyed this book very much. (And I also am looking forward to the movie.)
Posted 07-Mar-08 by:
Kama Sue Siegel
Bullivant Houser Bailey
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