Speak

by Laurie Halse Anderson
ages: mature 12+
First sentence: “It is my first morning of high school.”

I was wandering through the bookstore a couple months back, and I chanced upon a display with the 10th anniversary edition of this book. Some part of my brain recognized it (aside from “Hey, that’s the woman who wrote Chains!”) as an important/noteworthy book, and willed me to stop. I picked it up, read the back and the first section, and was hooked. I didn’t walk away with it that night (ah, self control!), but went home and put it on hold at the library. (I think I may have to go buy it now, though.)

Melinda is beginning her freshman year as a complete and total outcast because she called the cops on a party a few weeks prior to the beginning of school. And the year goes downhill from there. Melinda spends the year trying to survive (and not always making it), while her grades fall and she spends more and more time locked inside her head. As it turns out, calling the cops wasn’t so much a tattling thing (as one might initially suspect) but a real cry for help from Melinda, who was raped at the party. As the year progresses, Melinda comes to terms with what happened to her that night, as well as the person who did it to her.

Jen Robinson pointed out two things in her review that I thought were worth mentioning. One, that it’s a scarily accurate portrayal of someone who is monumentally depressed. Melinda is hopeless, and while she spends much of the book living in her head, and trying to escape her world, it’s not a hopeless book. She’s funny on occasion, and her powers of observation are keen, especially about the stupidity of the high school world. Secondly, Jen mentioned that Anderson hopes that teenage boys will read this book, if only to get a sense about what a young woman who has been raped would possibly go through. One of the things I liked most about the book was realizing that while Melinda was suffering in silence, she wasn’t necessarily the only one suffering; her actions caused her parents, teachers, and, yes, even old friends (at least the ones who noticed) worry, and while that worry was often misdirected and misapplied, they were affected by her.

But the thing that got me most was that Anderson was able to take something as harsh as rape and put a human face on it, and make you feel something (depression, anger, triumph) for Melinda. That’s a mark of a good writer. And a good book.

2009 Challenge #1: Well-Seasoned Reader

I figured I was about done with my challenge, so I thought I’d post my wrap-up. I didn’t read any of the food books I set out to (they were checked out and not due before the challenge ended!), and I think my favorite overall was the first one I read: A Year in the World. I also think the best part of the challenge was hosting it, and reading all your wonderful reviews!

What I did read:

Food:
Dear Julia, Amy Bronwen Zemser
Chocolat, Jeanne Harris

Travel:
A Year in the World, Frances Mayes

People:
Captain Alatriste, Arturo Perez-Reverte
Rosewater and Soda Bread, Marsha Mehran

Rose Water and Soda Bread

by Marsha Mehran
ages: adult
First sentence: “Mrs. Dervla Quigley, perpetual widow of James Ignatius Quigley, was the self-proclaimed arbiter of all that was decent and holy in the coastal village of Ballinacroagh.”

I had high hopes for this one. I wanted to like it as much as I loved Pomegranate Soup, I wanted to be captivated by the Aminpour sisters again, to be transported by the food and the tastes and the atmosphere of it all. I was happy to jettison it to the top of my reading pile (due to a 14 day checkout rather than the normal 4 week period), and happily began.

I don’t know if it was my mood, or if it was the book, but I just couldn’t get into it. All the elements were there: Marjan was still cooking, and her sisters Bahar and Layla were still as exotic as ever. But there was something off. Bahar was less sad, finding solace in religion — she converts to Catholicism — but in her devotion to a new religion, becomes intolerant, which was disturbing. Marjan finds love, and in so doing, loses the magic that she had in the previous book; she is often scatterbrained and at loose ends trying to make everything work. She is also trying to face her past — she was in love before, and was arrested during the Iranian Revolution — as well as deal with this stranger that washed up on the beach and that their Italian landlord, Estelle, has taken under her wing. And Layla; all she’s interested in is finding a moment to have sex with her boyfriend. She lost her magic, her appeal and became a (uninteresting) teenager. I didn’t like most of the minor characters, either: Dervla was irritating, Father Mahoney was superfluous, and the rest of the town isn’t worth mentioning.

I did, however, like the new characters: Julian, Marjan’s love interest, whom I spent the whole book anxious that he not turn out to be a cad. And the mysterious girl who washes up on the beach; she was fascinating (Is she mermaid? How did she get pregnant? Why was she trying to abort the baby? How did she end up on the beach?) and mysterious, though I have to admit that the mystery got a bit old. It wasn’t until the final third of the book that I even became interested in the story enough to really care. But the final third was interesting and the ending was nice. And the food, while not as wonderful as the first book, was okay.

Maybe it wasn’t my mood, after all.

Teaser Tuesday, March 17

  • Grab your current read.
  • Let the book fall open to a random page.
  • Share with us two (2) “teaser” sentences from that page, somewhere between lines 7 and 12.
  • You also need to share the title of the book that you’re getting your “teaser” from … that way people can have some great book recommendations if they like the teaser you’ve given!
  • Please avoid spoilers!
  • Happy St. Patrick’s Day!! (I suppose this post should be in green…) I’ve got the perfect book today: Rosewater and Soda Bread, by Marsha Mehran (the sequel to Pomegranate Soup), the continuing adventures a family of Iranian sisters who end up in Ballinacroagh, County Mayo, Ireland. The quote is from page 105:

    She must make an effort to eat more from the list of hot foods Marjan had written for her, Estelle told herself. The darling had meticulously charted the best ingredients and dishes to take at such times, times when she felt not only the pain of her joints but the darkness that came from watching your body turn slowly to stone.

    The roundup is as Should Be Reading.

    OCOC Giveaway: Just One Wish

    Thanks to all who entered last week’s drawing… Amazingly, at least one person wanted all of last week’s books! (I was very relieved; I hoped beyond hope that someone would want the Christopher Reeve book, and someone did!) The winners were: Amy, PopinFresh, and Wanda

    Since I loved it, but as M said, it’s a book that one can really only love once, I thought I’d share the love in this week’s OCOC giveaway.

    Thus, I will give one of you
    (Here’s some more thoughts on the book: Becky, Jen, and Reviewer X.)

    It’s an ARC, and like always, the drawing is open to all — US, Canada, and international — until Thursday, midnight. If you’re interested in the book, just leave a comment with a valid email address (if it’s not on your blog). The drawing will be held bright and early Friday morning, and the winner will be notified.

    Well-Seasoned Reader Challenge Roundup #10

    Only seventeen more days… how are you doing? Finishing up?

    This week’s quote, from Travels With Charley, by John Steinbeck (thanks Becky; there’s a link to her review below!):

    When I very young and the urge to be someplace else was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch. When years described me as mature, the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age I was assured that greater age would calm my fever and now that I am fifty-eight perhaps senility will do the job.

    Finishers this week are: Corinne and Sandra. Congrats! We’re coming to the end… remember to put links to your finisher posts (or just leave a comment saying that you’re done) here.

    As for reviews… I was surprised that two people — Becky and Sandra — provided the bulk of them for the week!

    Callista was our lone other review, reading The Polygamist, by Ndabaningi Sithole. Callista writes, “I picked this book up at a local thrift store because the title caught me. This was an incredibly interesting book and fairly well-written, considering it was written by a man in a Rhodesian prison.” She goes on to say that the publisher is now defunct, and the book is unavailable for purchase. “I wish this book was available to a wider public because I most definitely recommend this to everyone.”

    Becky went on a Steinbeck reading binge, and counted two towards the challenge: Tortilla Flat and Travels with Charley. I liked what she said about Tortilla Flat: “I recommend this one to folks wanting to read a classic…but who feel somewhat intimidated and bored by more traditional ‘classics.’ It was just a joy to keep reading.” She almost (almost!) has me convinced to read Steinbeck, an author I’ve avoided for decades.

    She also read Tropical Secrets, a novel in verse by Margarita Engle. She writes, “I don’t know about you, but I’d certainly never heard about Cuba in regards to the Holocaust. It’s interesting to see how this one island, small in size especially when comparing it to Canada and the United States, was able to provide some shelter to Jews fleeing Hitler.” And also: “This book is fascinating. It’s absorbing. Read. This. Book.”

    Sandra checked in with The Madonnas of Leningrad, by Debra Dean; The Rabbi’s Cat 2, by Joann Sfar; and The Seamstress, by Frances de Pontes Peebles. She liked Madonnas and Seamstress best, writing this about Seamstress: “Richly detailed, the writing is good and the characters as real as they get. Highly recommended.”

    Read all the reviews here.

    So Many Books, So Little Time

    A Year of Passionate Reading
    by Sara Nelson
    ages: adult
    First sentence: “Call me Insomniac.”

    This book will not be liked by everyone. Contrary to what the jacket flap says, I also do not think this book will make a “passionate reader out of anybody.” In fact, I think that in order to enjoy this book one has to be a passionate reader already. Otherwise, Nelson will sound uppity (a book a week? How absurd!), snobbish, and insufferable in her blathering about books.

    Admittedly, I was suspicious intially — a book a week? Bah, that’s nothing! — but, soon after beginning, I discovered that writing about reading a book a week isn’t what Nelson was trying to achieve. In fact, the book is not a record of the books that she read over the course of 2002 so much as it is an ode to book love, to those who are passionate about reading, and the process of book choosing, sharing and reading.

    And, as someone who is passionate about reading, that I could love.

    I have to admit that at first I felt wildly unsophisticated and un-read, since I haven’t even heard of half of the books she was writing about. But I realized, after a while, that this book in many ways is like Reading Lolita in Tehran: the author writes so much about, and with such love, the books that she is reading and thinking about that you feel like you’ve read them. And, then, you’ll either figure that was enough exposure to the book, or you’ll stick it on your to be read list, just to see what made the author so giddy about it.

    I also marked so many passages; it was full of bookish truisms that I felt hit home with me. A sampling:

    People notice what you read and judge you by it. Which is why if I were goig nto read Danielle Steel, I wouldn’t do it at the office. But Nine Parts of Desire speaks to anyone listening: I’m smart, it says. I’m concerned with current events, it announces. I am a serious person.

    Clearly she knew that between book lovers, a novel is not a novel is not a novel. It’s a symbol, an offering, and sometimes a test.

    It seems to me that rereading — or claiming to reread — is just another way for some people to trumpet their intellecutal superiority. To wit: have you ever known someont to say they’re “rereading” the oeuvre of, say, Jackie Collins?

    On reviewing:

    His [Anthony Bourdain] subject is food and mine is books, but the same principles apply: you have to treat your subject with fearlessness and attitude and energy. Whether your industry’s sacred cows are beef, or, say, novels that are just said to be “well-done”, you have to skewer them.

    You know you’re in a bad patch when the most interesting part of the book is the acknowledgments page.

    That’s probably more than you wanted. But, maybe you can begin to see the charm the book had for me. She also tackles choosing a book (or having a book choose you), that headlong falling into love, erotic scenes versus erotica, first sentences (but not book covers), and (that problem we all have?!) the embarrassing problem when an author wants you to read their book and “tell them the truth”. Yes, Nelson does come off as a New York elite (which she is), and a bit of a snob (ditto; I worried when I got to the chapter titled, “Kid Stuff”, but it turned out okay), but she’s also observant, insightful, and passionate. And those three outweighed the previous two, and made this book an absolute delight to read.

    Book to Movie Friday: Inkheart

    About a year ago, I put up a books and their movie adaptations post. Since it seems that I’ve been seeing quite a few movies (mostly intentionally) lately that have been based on books, I thought it would be fun to post my thoughts on them on occasional Fridays. I have to add that I’m a horrid movie reviewer — I generally like everything to some extent — but I can compare them to the books, which I’m pretty good at. The links are to my review of the book.

    Inkheart: I have to say, first, that I like anything Brendan Fraser’s been in (that I’ve seen). Some I like more than others, but generally, I find him imminently watchable. That said, I really liked Inkheart. It’s different than the book, but in a way that makes it a good movie.

    They kept the basic elements of the story (from what I remember; it’s been a while since I read the book, and that could have affected the way I saw the movie), but fleshed it out and changed it in a way to make it a decent movie. (Unlike the Harry Potter movies, which are generally scenes from the book splashed on the screen.) They contained the story to a single movie — there’s no need for sequels, like the book — and moved elements around so that it kept up a fairly brisk pace. And, as I think Jen Robinson noted, it truly is a middle grade movie: it is Meggie, more than Mo, who drives the plot and comes up with a brilliant solution to the crisis they are all in. I thought it was well cast: Andy Sirkis was perfect as Capricorn, as was (surprisingly) Brendan Fraser as Mo, and Eliza Hope Bennett as Meggie, and Paul Bettany as Dustfinger. But the show stealer was Helen Mirren as Elinor. She was brilliant. She was perfect. I loved her.

    One more note: I took M to see the movie, and after finishing it, she wanted to read Inkspell (she had no desire to before that, even though she’s read Inkheart). That’s got to say something.

    Verdict: Not as good as the book, but pretty darn close.

    Geeky Quote Redeux #7

    And because it’s C’s birthday, I thought I’d finish with a quote from one of the books in her favorite series:

    “In a way, it’s nice to know that there are Greek gods out there, because you have somebody to blame when things go wrong. For instance, when you’re walking away from a bus that’s just been attacked by monster hags and blown up by lightning, and it’s raining on top of everything else, most people might think that’s just really bad luck; when you’re a half-blood, you understand that some divine force is really trying to mess up your day.” — Rick Riordan, The Lightning Thief, p. 168

    Geeky Quote Redeux #6

    I suppose this isn’t true anymore, with the Kindle and everything, but I still like it:

    “A wonderful thing about a book, in contrast to a computer screen, is that you can take it to bed with you.” — Daniel J. Boorstein