First, to get it out of the way… Andi heard my plaintive cries (ha!), and put up the September issue of Estella. Go read: we’ve managed to bag an interview with The Book Thief‘s author, Marcus Zusak (take that, Stephenie Meyer!), who sounds like one fine fellow. Eventually I will get around to reading his book. 🙂 I contributed a book tour of Salt Lake City (figured I could squeeze that in while on vacation), and a review of a couple of Jane Austen “sequels”. Coupled with seeing Becoming Jane, which I quite liked, I spent a lot of time in Austen-land last month. Like always, Andi and Heather (who’s less than a week away from giving birth!) put together a fabulous issue.

After finishing Eclipse, I swore off romances, and instead (after a brief adventure with Hugo Cabret) started to read The Outermost House, by Henry Beston for the Armchair Traveler challenge. I didn’t give up on that; I just discovered (after falling asleep a few times), that it’s not the sort of book I can pick up and devour in one sitting. It’s more Wendell Berry-eqsue, something to be taken slowly, bit by bit. And so, I’m reading it a section at a time, one per day. At this rate, I’ll have it done sometime next week. I needed something else to read, though. Something I could get in to, and enjoy. And I found that in L.M. Montgomery’s very charming book, The Blue Castle.

Valancy Sterling is an old maid (it’s the 1920s, people), living with her mother and a widowed cousin, is part of a stuffy old-money clan in Deerwood, Ontario. She is mousy, fearful, and adores the “forbidden” nature books of John Foster. She comforts herself with dreams of heroes and beautiful things in her Blue Castle. On the morning of her 29th birthday, she realizes (yet again) that she’s never even had a life, let alone had someone to love or who loves her. And she realizes that this is something she really wants. She goes to the doctor, who diagnoses her with a fatal heart disease and gives her a year to live. It’s when faced with death that Valancy realizes that she needs to live, and breaking all conventions, she sets out to find it.

I was thoroughly charmed by this book. Valancy is a cross between Anne Wentworth and Anne Shirley: like Anne Wentworth, she’s so nice, she’s so long-suffering that you just ache for her to have something of her own. And when she does finally break out of her shell, you discover the same sort of passion for life and imagination that Anne Shirley has. Montgomery wonderfully portrayed a woman coming into her own, learning to love, being loved in return, and enjoying herself thoroughly in the process. And Valancy’s relatives: oh, they were fabulously awful. I hated them all, the entire book. They were base, they were mean, they were snobs (Valancy accuses them, correctly, of being part of a snobocracy. I loved that.), and they deserved to have Valancy speak her mind to them. One of my favorite scenes was Valancy’s cousin retelling the events of Valancy’s departure:

“The last words I said to her,” said Cousin Stickles pathetically, “were, ‘Who will rub my back at nights now?’ And she said — she said — but no, I cannot repeat it.”
“Nonsense,” said Uncle Benjamin. “Out with it. This is no time to be squeamish.”
“She said” — Cousin Stickles’ voice was little more than a whisper– “she said–‘Oh, darn!'”
“To think I should have lived to hear my daughter swearing!” sobbed Mrs. Frederick.

I howled.

It is a good romance, after all. Even if the ending gets a bit predictable (I bet you could guess the ending right now), and everything turns out quite pat. I didn’t want it any other way. And it still makes me smile just to think about it.

I just spent a most delightful hour reading this graphic novel by Brian Selznick.

I know I’m behind the times, that this has been raved about in the kidlitosphere for ages, but I finally picked it up at the library yesterday on a recommendation from a friend in my in-person book group. I’m so glad I did.

I didn’t read any of the reviews (just enough to know that it was loved by everyone), I had no idea what the book was about. And I appreciated that. So, I’m not going to tell you anything. Just that you should get your hands on a copy and spend some time getting to know the amazing Hugo Cabret.

You won’t regret it.

Given: I have a bit of a grudge against Little Brown right now, since they wouldn’t let me interview Stephenie Meyer back in June. Yes, I’m being a bit petulant about it. Mostly because I got the feeling that it wasn’t that she didn’t have time for interviews, it was that she didn’t have time for an interview with a stay-home mom in Kansas who writes for a fledgling online lit magazine. So, yeah, I’m a bit bitter. It’s my right.

Given: I’m annoyed with the hype comparing Stephenie Meyer to J.K. Rowling. Meyer may be a lot of things, but Rowling she is not. And the hype is just irritating.

Given: I’ve read many of the reviews out there and know that some people like it and some hate it, but most people agree it was better than New Moon.

Given all that, I wasn’t expecting to like Eclipse all that much. And you know what? I closed the book and thought, “Meh. Not that great.”

I liked Twilight. A lot. I thought it was a brilliant concept: normal girl falls in love with vampire. New Moon, I had problems with. Lots. Mostly because I liked Jacob — I liked Bella with Jacob — and I thought that their relationship was a much healthier one. I hated it when Edward came back into the picture. In Eclipse, I had to deal with Edward being, well, insufferably nice and terribly boring (he feels guilty for “putting Bella through” the ordeal of separation. Bah.) and Jacob being, well, a jerk (at a certain point you just have to think “give it up already”) and Bella being, well, insufferably annoying (whine, whine, blame, blame, pity, pity). (I’m using that adjective a lot. Maybe I should get out my thesaurus.)

In addition, there hasn’t been any chemistry for me between Bella and Edward since Twilight. So all the almost sex-scenes just fell flat. I can understand Bella’s hesitancy for not wanting to get married, but if Edward’s the love of her eternity, then what’s the big deal? Why not get married? And I wanted her to stop throwing herself at the man, please. It’s degrading. I liked the Jacob of New Moon, but Jacob here was manipulative and harsh and completely unlovable. And his little heart-to-heart with Edward was, well, predictable.

I think that’s what bothered me most about this book. It was long — too long — and predictable. I figured out how it was going to end halfway through, and while I enjoyed the buildup to the vampire fight (the only part I enjoyed, as a matter of fact), the fight itself was a bit of a let-down. (It’s not much of a fight when all you get out of is “they danced around each other then Bella cuts herself then Edward kills everyone” for seven or so pages.) And the end… someone tell me: if it wasn’t for the Volturi (I have no memory of why they want Bella dead anyway), why would there even need to be a fourth book?

I’m starting to think I should have been one of those that stopped after reading Twilight.

I really wanted to like Pretties. I did. Especially after enjoying Uglies so much. I did know, going into it, that in both Becky’s and Inkling’s opinions, that it wasn’t as good as Uglies. But I didn’t expect to have such an indifferent reaction to it.

We pick up the story after Tally has been turned into a Pretty (okay, that’s a bit of a spoiler, but you kind of know it going in, since the second book is titled “Pretties”, it’s how she gets there that’s interesting). She’s happy-ish, and trying to join a clique called the Crims. Then, on her initiation night, she receives a visit from Croy, a friend from New Smoke. And from there, with her new-found love, Zane, her life takes some very unexpected twists and turns as she tries to regain control.

I enjoyed Tally as a main character in Uglies, but here she just grated on me. Part of that is on purpose, I recognize; being a pretty now, she’s not as intelligent as she was when she was ugly. But the language drove me to distraction. “Bubbly”, “oxygen-missing”, “pretty-making” and an excessive use of like and totally just drove me nuts. I wanted to just let it go, but I couldn’t. Then there was Zane. I wanted to like his relationship with Tally, but it really didn’t work. I didn’t dislike him; it’s just that I didn’t really care about him. Maybe that’s the point of the book: once you’re a pretty, there’s hardly a point to anything. Love, anger, life… it’s all pretty hollow. If it was, then Scott Westerfield portrayed that beautifully.

I’m not sure I agree with Inkling’s assertion that Westerfield was just writing for the movie deal, though there are certainly shock-worthy, and movie-worthy elements. I just think this part of the story isn’t as good as the original premise. (We could digress and ask whether or not any second book in a trilogy is as good as the original… If there is one, I’d love to hear about it because I can’t think of one right now.)

And, yes, I will read Specials. Kind of have to… Westerfield is really good at writing cliff-hangers. And I want to know how the story ends.

This one’s going fast and furious in the book blogosphere right now. Not to be left out (I’m sure there’s some sort of desperation jab here, but I don’t know what it is)…. I saw it first at Bookworm and Slow but Steady, just to be fair.

What are you reading right now? I’m trying to finish Letters from Pemberly, by Jane Dawkins before Saturday so I can write a review of it for the September issue of Estella. Surprisingly, I’m actually liking it.

Do you have any idea what you’ll read when you’re done with that? Oh, yeah. I’ve got Pretties that’s due at the library on August 31st, Eclipse (which I only have for 2 weeks), The Blue Castle, Eggs and the Bartimeaus Triliogy. Nothing like having a huge pileup on the bedside table.

What magazines do you have in your bathroom right now? None. I’m still at the parenting stage where I can’t go to the bathroom by myself (the kids have to follow me), so reading in the bathroom (well, while going to the bathroom) is an impossibility.

What’s the worst thing you were ever forced to read? Anything by any Russian author. Seriously depressing.

What’s the one book you always recommend to just about everyone? Right now, it’s Austenland by Shannon Hale. It changes whenever I get a new favorite.

Admit it, the librarians at your library know you on a first name basis, don’t they? Yep. Not as well as the librarians in Jonesboro did, but they know me well enough to hassle me every time to join the Friends of the Library (I did, about a month ago.)

Is there a book you absolutely love, but for some reason, people never think it sounds interesting, or maybe they read it and don’t like it at all? Hmm… I don’t know. Usually, I’m the one who doesn’t like the books that everyone else does. I can’t stand book hype.

Do you read books while you eat? While you bathe? While you watch movies or TV? While you listen to music? While you’re on the computer? While you’re having sex? While you’re driving? Eat, no. I used to, but it’s not a good thing for my weight. (I tend to crave food when I read. Not a good habit when I do as much reading as I do.) Bathe, yes. What other point is there to bathing? The rest, no. We do try to listen to books when we take long drives, though.

When you were little, did other children tease you about your reading habits? No. (Well, maybe, but I was oblivious.) My best friend was as avid a reader as I was, and we just tuned everyone else out. At some point, I noticed that people usually didn’t read, but by that time, I didn’t care.

What’s the last thing you stayed up half the night reading because it was so good you couldn’t put it down?
Harry Potter. (But I was done with it by 10 pm, so it was more like what did I spend and entire day reading…)

I found this meme over at turtlebella‘s while I was gone on vacation, and I saved it to do when I got back. It was too much fun to pass up. I did change one from “I want to marry” to “I have a crush on” since I’m already married, and I don’t believe in polyandry, even with fictional characters. 🙂 Feel free to take this one and pass it on.

Legend:

I’ve read it
I want to read it
I’ve seen the movie*
I have it on DVD
I have a crush on the leading man/lady!
Holy smokes, I didn’t know this was a book!

1. Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë, 1847

2. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen, 1813*

3. Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare, 1597*

4. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë, 1847* (though I need to re-read it, and I want it on DVD)

5. Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell, 1936*

6. The English Patient, Michael Ondaatje, 1992

7. Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier, 1938*

8. Doctor Zhivago, Boris Pasternak, 1957

9. Lady Chatterley’s Lover, D.H. Lawrence, 1928

10. Far from the Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy, 1874

11. My Fair Lady, Alan Jay Lerner, 1956*

12. The African Queen, CS Forester, 1935*

13. The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald, 1925*

14. Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen, 1811*

15. The Way We Were, Arthur Laurents, 1972

16. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy, 1865 (Though I should probably want to read this.)

17. Frenchman’s Creek, Daphne du Maurier, 1942

18. Persuasion, Jane Austen, 1818*

19. Take a Girl Like You, Kingsley Amis, 1960

20. Daniel Deronda, George Eliot, 1876

Additions:

Maurice, E.M. Forster, 1971 (posth.)

Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy, 1877

A Room With a View, E.M. Forster, 1908*

I do have to admit that I spent the first few chapters wondering why I liked the book so much. It opens in a monastary in the desert, with Brother Francis of Utah on a Lenten fast. The world has blown itself up, purged itself of all intelligence and started over. Isaac Edward Leibowitz, scientist and unwilling perpetrator of the first nuclear holocaust, decides to help save the knowledge, and organizes a group of monks into bookleggers and memorizers, a group which eventually becomes a monastery devoted to the work of Beatus Leibowitz. Anyway, back to Brother Francis…. he discovers, with a help of a wanderer, a fallout shelter, a shopping list and a blueprint of Leibowitz’ which guarantees his sainthood.

By the second part, set 600 years in the future from the ending of the first section (I think we’re at 3175 by this point), I remembered why I liked it. It’s a compelling story of human history. The second part, age if you will, is telling of learning, of discovery. The Age of Reason, when people are not discovering electricity, but re-discovering it. There are some very interesting and involved passages in this section between Thon Taddeo, a respected scientist and natural philosopher, and the abbot of the monastery, Dom Paulo.

However, by the third part, I realized that while this is a very deep and profound and possibly important book, it is also a very hopeless and depressing one. By 3781, human society has advanced enough to have space travel and computers and, yes, nuclear weapons again. And because human nature is primarily a violent one, they are set about trying to kill each other again. In spite of its depressing nature (really, isn’t there any hope for us? Are we really doomed to repeat history? Can’t we learn?), I found it incredibly relevant. The opening passages of this section are a press junket with a defense minister, that could be something that some upper level administration flunky gave yesterday. And there are some challenging passages about euthanasia, too; heart-wrenching ones after a nuclear bomb was launched on the city where the monastery is.

It’s not a perfect book; just when you get involved in one character, Miller up and kills him. There is very little compassion, and as I’ve already said, hope. It’s a dark, depressing look at what the future might hold, especially if we can’t get past our current violent tendencies. It’s a very anti-war book, which as a pacifist I can totally sympathize with; but it’s also an anti-technology and anti-progress book. At least progress for progress’ sake. And I’m not sure I totally agree with that. Are we really better off when the knowledge is in the hand of a few, even if (especially?) they are devoted to God? Isn’t it better that we know more, and have learned more?

I guess the rub is that it is, only if we use it responsibly. And we so seldom do.