Author: booknutgirls

booknutgirls http://thebooknutdotcom.wordpress.com I read. I blog. I sell books. I chauffeur my kids. What more do you need to know?

Sabriel

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I thought, after about the first third of this book by Garth Nix, that this was one of those books that was uncomprehensible, weird and just going nowhere. But I kept with it anyway. Call it stubborness on my part; a book has to be really bad before I’ll stop (unfortunately, that means there have been times when I wish I could have my time spent reading back). However, this was not one of them. It’s a pretty weird story — the world in which Sabriel inhabits is half “modern” half, well, fantasy. Sabriel is an “Abhorsen” in training — someone who “binds” the dead, that is, makes the dead stay that way. The first third is pretty creepy and confusing: dead things are chasing her, she needs to rescue her father, there’s this weird thing called Mogget, and by the way what is Charter Magic? Stick with it, though, and it becomes a straight-up fantasy/adventure, most of the questions you have during the first third are answered (or at least it makes more sense as you go on) and the creepiness gets less, well, creepy.

And Sabriel is a good girl-hero too. Strong-willed, yet she makes several mistakes that could be costly that she has to figure out solutions for. There’s romance, but she’s no damsel in distress, or silly head-over-heels in love maiden. By the end, you really like her and all the characters surrounding her. A good book.

Riding the Bus with My Sister

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There are times when I wish my life was more interesting so I could write a gripping, intriguing memoir. But, alas, I’ve lived a pretty normal boring life with no major catastrophes. Unlike Rachel Simon and her sister. This was a fascinating memoir. Not having much experience with people with metal handicaps (I learned you’re supposed to emphasize the people, not the handicap), it was a real eye-opener. I admire the way Rachel deals with her sister: she’s honest and blunt about her feelings of anger and resentment, yet, you can sense the very deep and unconditional love there. Her sister, Beth, is 11 months younger than Rachel, and spends her days (all day, every day) riding the buses of a Pennsylvania town (Rachel doesn’t ever say what town). As a holiday present, Rachel offers to ride the buses with Beth for an entire year. And during that year she learns a bunch: about herself, about life, about people, about her sister, about love.

It’s an amazing journey. The backstory about her childhood is both fascinating and heartbreaking. And what and how Rachel learns from her sister’s experiences (and from the bus driver) is so totally honest and true that you just want to cheer at the end.

My only beef is with our library again. This book was cataloged as a Young Adult biography and I think that’s misleading. Not that it isn’t appropriate for young adults. I just think putting it in that category would discourage many people from picking it up. And they really should.

Mandy

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I really hoped I would this book by Julie Andrews Edwards better than I did the last one. And I did, but only marginally. The basic plot — an orphan discovers an abandoned cottage and sneaks away to spend time in it, even lying to cover herself until she falls deathly ill when she discovers the people who own the cottage are wonderful and all she really needs is a family — probably could have been intriguing. And, I’m sorry to all those who loved Mandy as a child, the writing is just plain silly. Too much exposition, not enough action. There are probably many, many ways to show us that Mandy was unstable emotionally rather than saying, “Mandy had just had an emotionally confusing conversation” This wasn’t the bottom of the barrel — Edwards was attached to her characters, I think. I have read worse books. But there are also better ones out there.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

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Original Post:
Oh, wow.

I’m not going to spill the book’s secrets. But, oh, wow.

Let me do say that Rowling has gotten much, much tighter with her writing; that the book is not as grumpy as the fifth (thank heavens) though it it pretty dark; and that this along with Prisoner of Azkaban, is my favorite.

I am dying to talk to people about it, but I don’t want to write spoilers. Not yet, anyway. I guess that’s what I get for reading the book the day it comes out.

July 28th Update (with spoilers!):
Since more people have read it by now…. My thoughts.

First off, I LOVED the book. A bit of history: Prisoner of Azkaban has long been my favorite. I thought it had the most interesting story, and the writing was just enjoyable to read. I enjoyed the fourth — thought the ending was great — even though it was long, but I thought the fifth dragged. Even when I re-read it right before the sixth came out. It’s so depressing and angst-ridden. A decent story, though way too much exposition. But because of that, Rowling was able to get right to the point on this one and propelled the plot quicker. I’ve also read in interviews (on Mugglenet and in Time) that she really enjoyed the writing experience of this book, and it shows.

I loved that Harry finally figured out that Ginny was a great girl, and that Ron and Hermione (mostly) got their acts together. Well, Ron mostly. (Though the Lavender bits were funny, too. “Won-won” cracked me up. Didn’t we all know girls like that?) My husband and brother are down on the way the Harry-Ginny relationship ended in the book, but I didn’t mind. Mabye it’s a male-female thing.

I’m agnostic about Snape. When I first finished reading, I was pretty sure he’d declared his intentions and Dumbledore was wrong to trust him. But after very long discussions with Russell and other bloggers and reading the interviews, I’m not so sure. I find Snape to be one of the more fascinating characters in the book and I can’t wait to see what Rowling does with his character. Hopefully, it’ll live up to all our expectations.

The challenge now is waiting the two years until the next one comes out. This book has one of her best endings… what a cliff-hanger!

Becoming Naomi Leon

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I’m at a loss on what to write about this book by Pam Munoz Ryan. Not because it’s bad; on the contrary, it’s really really good. But, it’s not really “about” much of anything. It defies description — a Hispanic book? a coming of age book? a book about choices and destinies? yes, all of that and more — and when my husband asked what it was about, I was only able to answer, “Well, it’s about a girl named Naomi Leon.” And her finding herself. There’s really not much more to say. Except that I couldn’t put it down, and stayed up late last night to finish it, hanging on every word.

I love books like that.

The Whale Rider

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I loved this movie. We watched it a while back with our girls, and just enjoyed it thoroughly. It’s a great story about a girl wanting her grandfather’s love, and how she comes to earn that love and how he comes to realize her worth. And she learns to be a Maori chief and ride a whale (the girls liked that part). See it.

As a result, I was really excited to read the book by Witi Ihimaera. And, on it’s own terms, it’s a good book. I enjoyed learning the Maori legends, I enjoyed the language of the book. But, I had a few quibbles. The book’s point of view is from the girl’s — Kahu in the book, Paikea in the movie — uncle, which didn’t sit well with me. Especially if it’s a story about a girl who can talk to whales. The girl is age 2 through 8 in the book, too, and comes across as more of a mythic character, rather than a pro-active one. I think the point of the book was to focus on the Maori creation legend and to give the book a mythic quality. And I think Ihimaera succeeded at that.

But I think that by refocusing the story to the girl’s point of view, making her older, and making her more proactive rather than reactive the movie told a better story. It’s not often that I think a movie is better than the book, but in this case, it is. One last quibble, though this is with the library: they had this book in the juvenile fiction (ages 8-12) section. It’s not a juvenile fiction book. Not because of content or themes, but because of presentation. I’m not sure my almost 9-year-old would enjoy this very much.

All that said, I still think I’d like to give Ihimaera another try.

Aiding and Abetting

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After reading Julie’s review of Loitering With Intent, I was really quite intrigued to read a Muriel Sparks book. Unfortunately, being in a small town, the library didn’t have Loitering, so I was on my own to choose which one of the three books the library did have would be a good read. I did reasonably well. Aiding and Abetting didn’t quite live up to the book jacket description; I didn’t find it either “hilarious” or a “witty jab at the upper class”. It was an intriguing, though slightly werid, story though. It’s based on the case of Earl Lucan from 1974. I guess he murdered his children’s nanny, hoping to get his wife, and then has been in hiding for 30 years. Okay. Sparks took off on that and went into motives and means of support for his exile. But there were a couple of odd sub-plots that just didn’t quite fit. What on earth did the story of the stigmata fraud/psychiatrist have to do with anything? Or the whole sub story of Lucan’s old friend and the daugher of another friend going after Lucan to hunt him down? Didn’t get it. In short, I finished the book, but I don’t think I enjoyed it. Next time, I’ll just stick to the book recommended.

Under the Tuscan Sun

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I have come to realize that in many ways, books are like food. Nourishment for the soul. Some books can be devoured like cheap (but good) pizza or my personal favorite, cake. Other books are meant to be savored, each part for its own sake, like a fine meal. Under the Tuscan Sun, by Frances Mayes, is one of those to be savored.

I originally heard of this from the movie trailers I saw two years ago. I thought it was some sappy American-finds-love-and-herself-in-Italy love story. Sort of a white verson of How Stella Got Her Groove Back. And I didn’t think about it again, until I came across the book in the travel essay section of the book store. I had no idea it wasn’t a fiction book. It is a love story, though, but about a woman’s love with a house, a place, a dream. She already has a companion/lover/partner, Ed, who is compliant in all her dreams, though I think the house is technically hers. It’s a truly beautiful book to read, and I’m not one to usually read books for the sure pleasure of the language. Her descriptions of the land, the area of Cortone in Tuscanny, the house itself and all the rennovations, are fabulous and picturesque. I will never see the movie, because nothing can be as wonderful as Mayes’s descriptions of the place, except for probably the place itself.

All that being said, while this book is something to be savored, it’s not necessarily something I would want to read again and again. But, like the experience of a fine meal, it’s the memory of the book and it’s pictures that will linger on. It’ll probably make me wax poetic and be lyrical for a while. At least, until the next time I have cheap pizza.

Re-reading books or Tag, I’m it

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No, that’s not a book title. There’s a book meme going around, and Russell got it so he tagged me. I guess that’s what comes of being married…

The question is: What fiction did you read as a teen/young adult that you have re-read as an adult (or would like to)?

My problems: I have a crappy memory (hence the blog), so I’ve had to think long and hard about this one. I’ve come to realize that I read a lot of crap when I was younger. Tons of romance novels (many with the names of states and exclamation points– UTAH!, TEXAS! — on them. Don’t remember a bit of what they were about. I also wish, like one of the commenters on the Crooked Timber thread, I wish I could get back the time I spent on Piers Anthony.

I read every single Nancy Drew (even all the bad ones) that I could get my hands on, but I’m not sure I’d give those the time of day now. Though I would probably encourage my daughters to read them (in fact, since my mother-in-law has them all, I might just do that when we’re visiting over the next two weeks).

So, what would I re-read? In no particular order:

1) Ray Bradbury’s short stories. I discovered him in 7th grade, reading a work about life on Venus that haunted me (anyone know the title?). Over the next few years, I read everything I could find. Granted, I didn’t like it all, but some were quite engaging. I loved The Martian Chronicles and Fahrenheit 451. I haven’t re-read the former, but still love the latter.

2) Edgar Allen Poe. Everything. When my kids get a bit older, I want to read them “The Tell-tale Heart” on Halloween. And other times, too. I had “Annabel Lee” memorized at one point. I think the “Cask of Amontillado” was my absolute favorite.

3) Huckleberry Finn, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, and The Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, all by Mark Twain. I read the first two when I was 11, after we visited Hannibal as a family. I was assigned the last one in 7th grade (I must have had a really good 7th grade English teacher), and loved every minute of it. Perhaps that’s where my love of King Arthur started?? Which reminds me, why don’t we have a copy of The Connecticut Yankee here at home?

4) Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, by Dee Alexander Brown. Not fiction, I know. But very powerful in a 16-year-old’s mind. I loved that I got to visit the Badlands in South Dakota soon afterward, too. I’ve often thought that I should re-read that one.

5) The Secret Garden and The Little Princess, by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Still love these, and I’m glad my girls do, too.

Okay, I guess I didn’t read just crap. I hereby tag Julie at Bookworm and Julie at BestBooks and Amira when she gets back in town. And if Heather or The Wiz at Mormon Mommy Wars or anyone over at Conversation want to take on this one, they can consider themselves tagged, too.

Holy Cow

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I generally try to operate under two principles when it comes to books. One: I try to read the ones that have come recommended to me. Every once in a while, I manage to find a good book on my own, but it’s not exactly a common occurrence. Two: I only buy books I like or have come highly recommended to me.

I broke both of those when it came to Holy Cow, by Sarah MacDonald, and instantly regretted it.

In fact, I only got 3 chapters into it before I decided that this woman is a first-class snit (well, something else, really, but I want to at least be polite), and hates India and everything about it. I suppose that was the point of the book: she hates India at first but comes to love everything about the country. But, you know, I don’t care.

Thankfully, I still had the receipt and was able to get my money back.