Amira suggested this one by Jill Ker Conway way back when, and I’m glad I finally got around to reading it. Conway led a very insteresting, and possibly uniquely Australian childhood, and it was fascinating reading about it. I enjoyed her vivid descriptions, both of the landscape around her and of the people she came in contact with in her life (a phrase she used in describing a friend — “dazzling cornflower eyes” — really struck me). I was amazed at the horribleness of her mother. It took Conway years to realize that her mother was being, in our current language, abusive and get the nerve to get out of the relationship (which isn’t easy when it’s your own mother!). Still, it never occured to her mother that she was being that way. Which led to some interesting reflection on Conway’s part. As did being a woman in a very male society. Her account of her discrimination when applying to and her ultimate rejection from the Australian Department of External Affairs was very insightful. A good book.
Author: booknutgirls
The Mommy Myth
I have to admit up front: I bailed on this book by Susan J. Douglas and Meredith W. Michaels after a chapter and a half. It’s an interesting idea: a couple of female professors (one at Smith and one at University of Michigan) study the effect of the media on motherhood and how it relates to the feminist causes from the 1970s. Why did I bail? I read The Price of Motherhood by Anne Crittenden a while back, and it seems to me that she had pretty much the same idea (motherhood is unrecognized by the government and society as a viable occupation) and went about it in a more interesting way. The thing that irritated me most about The Mommy Myth was all the snide and snarky comments by the authors. They assumed that whoever was reading this book was already pretty angry that society encourages mothers to stay home and not work, and set about mocking the non-feminist/liberal point of view. As a side note, though, it did deepen my resolve to get rid of the Barbies.
Once Upon a Marigold
I read, quite a while back, Love Among the Walnuts (Or How I Saved My Entire Family from Being Poisoned), by Jean Ferris. I don’t remember much about the book. What I did write was: Silly little happy book. Once Upon a Marigold (same author) could be described in much the same way. Ferris has a wonderful knack for writing stories that fundamentally make me feel happy. There isn’t much to Marigold: a guy, a princess, a troll, a wicked mother… what makes it so thoroughly enjoyable is the way she writes. The troll is constantly mixing his metaphors (“it’s all spilled milk over the dam” is my favorite). The princess loves telling awful jokes. And they all communicate by the “modern” p-mail (pidgeon). I couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t “hilarious” but it was sweetly funny and endearing.
Girl With a Pearl Earring
Okay, so this book was really popular 4 years ago. And it’s been on my “list” (neverending as it is) to read for about that long. As has the movie. But with a nudge from the book group (which is why I like them), I finally got around to reading Girl With a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier. It was well worth it, too.
I have seen Vermeer’s paintings, once. Unfortunately, I was suffering from morning sickness and the gallery was over crowded (it was at the National Gallery in early 1996, right after they re-opened after the famed Government Shutdown) so I really didn’t get a really good look at them. Still, I do remember some of them.
That’s important for this book. Because it’s written like a Vermeer painting. It’s all about description and feeling and atmosphere rather than action. Usually, that turns me off… I’m a plot person. But, there’s enough here to make me want to dwell on the pages, savoring each word. Chevalier does an excellent job of describing the paintings, the process of painting (at least how she imagined it for Vermeer) and a painter’s relationship to his subject. That’s what I found myself wondering about as I finished the book, and I mean to ask my artist brother next time I see him: how does an artist look at the subject he/she paints? Is it as a person, or mainly as the form, line and color they represent for the painting? Because, in the end, it’s that relationship that drives the novel.
It really is an excellent book.
Sarah
As I was reading Sarah, by Orson Scott Card, I began wondering what I really liked about Rebekah. Honestly, I couldn’t remember. I then decided I needed to be a lot more specific about what I do and don’t like about the books I read. Otherwise, it does me no good. Right?
So. I liked Sarah, but I wasn’t estatic about it. I liked the story Card wove; as seen through Card’s imagination, Abram and Sarai had an interesting life.
But, I also have problems. Because while Abram and Sarai were in an ancient surrounding, they were very modern. And, well, Mormon. It seemed to me that you could just pluck Abram and Sarai out of the book and put them into any ward as Brother and Sister so-and-so and their actions and language (from their prayers to the way they interacted with each other) wouldn’t seem out of place. It’s not that it bothered me while I was reading the book. But whenever I put it down, that’s what I dwelt on. It’s a good story. It’s also a very Mormon re-telling of the story. Though, I have to admit, that I’m quibbling with Card writing from his experience and for his audience here. Honestly, even though I found these at my library here (which I was suprised by), who else is going to read these books?
It is a good portrayal of a strong, faithful woman. Sarai was a strong woman with doubts and questions and yet is always willing to come back to her faith in God. She’s an honest and good woman, who loved her husband and was willing to stand up to and by him. And for that, I think it’s worth reading.
Eragon
I popped over to Amazon to see what people were saying about Eragon by Christopher Paolini before I sat down to write this. It seems this is one of those books where you either really like it or hate it. It was getting either 5 stars or one. With that said…
I didn’t like it. It’s not that it was bad; it was trite. With a bad book, you can stop reading after about the first hundred (or fewer) pages and go on with life. With a trite book, you keep reading hoping that it will eventually get better. And in the end you’re disappointed. So what didn’t I like? Obviously, Paolini is influenced by George Lucas, Tolkien and Anne McCaffrey. So much so that he used their plots, characters and world descriptions. The only thing original about this book is that he managed to combine all of them. Eragon-Aragorn carries a named sword, is in love with an elf princess and is chased by Urgals-orcs (with some Krull-Urukhai thrown in). The elves are tall and graceful and came to this world from another. The dwarves, short and stocky and live underground and have a terrible relationship with the elves. Eragon has to come to terms with his destiny (like Luke Skywalker), is accompanied by an old man who trains him and then dies 3/4 of the way through the book (too bad he didn’t talk to Eragon from the grave) and then is accompanied by someone slightly older than him that has a shady past. He also managed to rescue said elf princess from a dungeon before she betrays her people. And the Dragon Riders (of which Eragon becomes one) have fallen on hard times and aren’t respected by the people any more. Eragon, of course, has to change all that. And, of course, he will.
The real problem, though, is that I just didn’t care about the characters. Oh, Brom dies. How sad. Oh, Eragon gets attacked again. Whoopie. Oh, Eragon succeeds in killing off the bad guy. Wow. Neat-O. Big deal. So what? That, I think is the real disappointment: there isn’t any real tension or emotion in this book. Oh, I think there was supposed to be. But, Paolini started this when he was 15 and finished when he was 19. I guess you can’t expect a great novel from one so young.
However Long and Hard the Road
I picked this one up off our shelf of Church books one morning when I couldn’t sleep. I think I needed the boost Elder Holland gives in it. For all it’s worth, However Long and Hard the Road, by Jeffery R. Holland is essentially an extended pep talk: You can do it, keep it up, try harder, don’t give up. Which is something I really needed to hear. That, and to be reminded that everyone has trials and they’re there to make us stronger.
A much-needed (re)read for me.
Baghdad Without a Map
Actually the full title is: Baghdad Without a Map and other misadventures in Arabia, by Tony Horwitz. I picked it up for two reasons: one, I needed a break from fiction. And two, I really have liked Tony Horwitz’s other books (well, okay, I really liked one and kind of liked the other). I wasn’t disappointed. He’s a good journalistic writer, and has fascinating adventures. I guess I still have a journalist in me somewhere, because I find myself becoming nostalgic about reporting, even though he doesn’t paint it in a very favorable light, especially in the Middle East of the 1980s. It begins with his wife being transferred to Cairo and his desire to get free-lance writing work. The book is compiled from all sorts of adventures he had and paints an interesting portrait of the people he met over three years in the late 80s. So, it’s pretty out of date. That said, it’s still pretty interesting. He goes to pretty much every Arabic country plus Israel and Iran (he was covering Kohmeini’s funeral). The only updating he does is in the last chapter, when he re-visits Iraq during the first Gulf War. I’d like to know what he thinks of the area now. It also reminded me that I once read Nine Parts of Desire by his wife, Geraldine Brooks, and I’d like to find it and re-read it again.
Quest for a Maid
A while back, Amira was listing books she’s read and enjoyed. Naturally, I jotted the ones I’d never heard of (and sounded interesting) down and set about trying to find them at our limited library. Quest for a Maid, by Frances Mary Hendry is one of those.
I really liked it. I think I’m often surprised how much I like historical fiction. This one was a good Arthurian-style book: a bit of history, a bit of myth, some magic — but not overly so, and a lot of good adventure with a little bit of understated love story thrown in. I found the accent writing (I’m sure there’s a name for when the writer writes dialogue in dialect, but I’m not sure what it is) a bit disconcerting at first (I always do), but I got used to it.
The basic plot: It’s set in Scotland, though I’m not sure of the time period, my Scottish history being a bit lax. Meg, though some interesting circumstances, becomes betrothed to Davie, acquires Peem as a manservant and through the influence of her witch-sister Inge ends up on a boat to fetch the Maid of Norroway so she can marry Prince Edward of England. Of course, things go wrong, and Meg, Davie and Peem save the day. But I’m not going to tell you how; you’ll have to read it for yourself.
A good read.
Fiction Potpourri
Last of the backlog. I promise.
Watch with me: and Six other stories of the yet-remembered Ptolemy Proudfoot and his wife, Miss Minnie, nee Quinch, Wendell Berry
Berry is usually known for his essays on agriculture, environment and society (Sex, Economy, Freedom and Community is an excellent book, for example). But, he also writes fiction. This is a fun little book about community and marriage. I know I’ve read The Memory of Old Jack, too, but I don’t remember much about that one.
The Count of Monte Christo, Alexander Dumas
Adventure! Romance! Revenge! It’s Huge! Heard the movie sucked, though.
The Bean Trees, Barbara Kingsolver
She’s a good writer, and this was an interesting story.
The Lonesome Gods, Louis L’Amour
I was going to put this on my “all time favorites” list until the last few chapters. I was really enjoying the story about a boy’s growing up, learning, and dealing with hatred and revenge (and rising above it). That is, until the book dissolved into a bloody hunt and shootout where all the “bad guys” die. It would have been better had it not become so violent. (My father-in-law took issue with my objections, commenting, “How on earth could it have ended any other way?!”)
A Sudden, Fearful Death, Anne Perry
A good, well-told mystery set in the 1800s
The Princess, Lori Wick
I’d never read something so obviously “Christian fiction”. It was interesting. A romance – an arranged marriage and the couple working to learn to love each other – in which everyone in the book is either
praying, talking about praying for people, reading scriptures or going to church. In the end, though, the book’s just okay.
