I’ve discovered that my library is a haven for fluffy books. Serious literature and out of the way books, not so much. But potboilers, best sellers and all manner of romance novels, they’ve got in abundance. So, I guess it was no surprise that they had this one by Karen Joy Fowler (whom I’ve never heard of, but I guess has written a bunch of romance books).

Anyway. Basic plot: Six people — five women (two best friends, one eccentric old lady, one daughter and one high school French teacher) and one man — get together once a month to discuss one of Jane Austen’s books. Not much there. Still, it worked. Fowler’s basic premise (not to be confused with plot, because there really isn’t one: they talk, someone falls in love with the man, one woman’s husband leaves her then comes back, the French teacher’s mom dies… pretty mundane stuff) is that everyone has an Austen book. Each of the chapters focused on one person, and gave them a book to do it by. Jocelyn has Emma (she’s a matchmaker, always trying to set people up, and running the world). Bernadette has Pride and Prejudice (that chapter was set at a formal dance/fundraiser). And so on. It made me wonder what my Austen book is. (There should be an internet quiz for that: Your Austen is Persuasion. You are long-suffering and kind, but often put upon by your family and friends. You do your best given the circumstances. Don’t give up hope: it all will work out in the end!)

Oh, and a couple of the book group questions in the back got me thinking, too: ” Austen lovers and science fiction readers feel a similar intense connection to books. Are there more book communities you know of that engage with a like passion? Why these and not others?” and “Many science fiction readers also love Austen. Why do you suppose this is true? Do you think many Austen readers love science fiction?”

What do you think?

The Orange Girl, by Jostein Gaarder
Every once in a while, the Chinaberry magazine comes through with a truly wonderful read. This is one. It’s hard to tell the story — it’s a love letter, from a dead father to his son 11 years after his death; it’s a mystery; it’s a fairy tale; it’s an awakening. On top of all that, it’s really beautifully written, touching and powerful in the end. Gaarder (who is Norwegian) deals with space, time, life, eternity and is life worth it in the end. Maybe someday I’ll get a chance to recommend this one to a book group.

Ida B (and Her Plans to Maximize Fun, Avoid Disaster, and (Possibly) Save the World), by Katherine Hannigan
M brought this one home from her school library; I picked it up, read the back cover, and decided I need to read the book, if only because the character reminded me so much of M. And, while Ida B wasn’t exactly M, she was a great character. Hannigan has got fourth graders down perfectly. The story in a nutshell: Ida B’s homeschooled, because her one week of Kindergarten in a public school is horrible, until her mother gets sick with cancer. On top of being forced to go back to public school, her father has to sell off some of the family’s farmland to a developer who, horror of all horrors, cuts down some of Ida B’s tree friends. It’s a fabulous world to get lost in. From Ida B’s imagination, to her free spirit, to her expecting revenge when she is mean to a classmate, to how things resolve in the end. It’s a wonderful read.

First, a definition: Parnassusian (parnassus isn’t in my dictionary) — from the Greek parnasios; Parnassus, mountain in Greece sacred to Apollo and the Muses. Of or relating to poetry.

There. Now everyone’s learned something today.

This was a slim little nothing of a book, wrtitten in 1915 by Christopher Morely . But, it was totally enjoyable. I’m not sure I expected anything grand or life shattering; it wasn’t. The basic story: Helen McGill was completely content to live in the New England countryside baking bread (over 6,000 loaves, as she later calculates) and cooking meals for her brother. That is, until he decides to become “literary” and write a book. She gets increasingly put out with him and his escapades off to gather material for his books. So when Roger Mifflin stops by the farm with a wagon — the Parnassus — wanting to sell it to her brother, she up and buys it. And off starts her adventures. Which really aren’t life-shattering (though they are life-changing for her). It is amusing, though. And completely charming. I’ve been reading a lot of charming books lately, it seems. Not that there’s anything wrong with charming. It was actually quite refreshing to put down a book and think, “Now that was charming.” Maybe I wanted there to be something more — it did tie itself up quite nicely — but that’s quibbling.

Besides, I learned what a parnassus is.

Something about this post by Lisa made me want to read this book by Leif Enger. I went back and tried to pinpoint what it was, but couldn’t quite figure it out. Which is kind of what I felt about the book. There is something about this book, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint it. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about — people kept asking me that, and I couldn’t ever really come up with an answer. It wasn’t about anything. It just was. Not that that’s a bad thing. I’m usually a plot-driven person (I usually like my books to be about something!), but I found myself drawn into this one. And I can’t quite pinpoint why. Was it the miracles? Was it the characters? Was it the writing? Don’t know. But I did finish the book, and found myself mulling over it for a day or so after. I guess it must have been good.

So, I was happily engaged in reading the Deptford Trilogy when the libarary called and said I had a couple of inter-library loan books waiting. And since they aren’t renewable, I reluctantly pulled myself away from the Robertson Davies book and picked up this one by Kate Fenton.

And I’m glad I did. The premise: take Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice and not only update it, but completely switch the roles. Mr. Darcy becomes Mary Hamilton, big-shot movie director (who, incidentally, is filming a mini-series of Pride and Prejudice). Mr. Bingly is the lead actress Candia Mayhew. Lizzy is Nick Brevan, a witty, slovenly, novelist down on his luck. And Jane is Nick’s ex-brother-in-law John Simmonds: handsome, poor, yet with a heart of gold. And the rest of the characters were there: from Wickham and Lydia to Charlotte and Mr. Collins (even Lady DeBerg) and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Sounds trite? It could have been.

Aside from the language (I probably shouldn’t complain so much about the excessive use of the f-word in adult novels, but after a while it does grate on me. And I think it’s unecessary…), it was a funny, engaging and thoroughly enjoyable. Fenton did a good job updating the characters and situations and keeping it fresh while also keeping the spirit and the basic outline of the original. For one who loves the original, it was a lot of fun seeing how everything unfolded (even though I knew exactly what was going to happen).

In the end, it was worth the time away from the Davies book.

Admittedly, I am not a huge fan of crictics’ darlings, or even “English Lit” books. I keep trying, though, to broaden my horizons, guilting myself into checking out and reading various classics or critically acclaimed books. And every once in a while, I surprise myself by actually liking the book.

This was one of those times. I hadn’t even ever heard of A.S. Byatt (male or female?) or the book (hey, wasn’t that a movie with Gwyneth Paltrow?) until Laura recommended this one to me. It was slow going at first — I mean, really how much do I want to know about English PhDs in the late 1980s — but as the story progressed, I found myself more and more intrigued and involved in the story. I admit that I skipped most of the poetry (and probably missed out on some plot points, but I survived), but I read and enjoyed the letters, and honestly loved the feeling of discovery and chase. (Look: it’s a thriller for English Lit geeks! My husband commented one night, “Didn’t she kind of make English PhDs look cool?” Well, um, yeah.) Maybe it’s the journalist in me; maybe it’s a buried family historian. I don’t know. But I loved that Roland and Maud were discovering hidden secrets and stories. And I didn’t even mind the twist ending, or the three flashback chapters, though perhaps I would have preferred it all be discovered through the letters.

Granted, it’s not a perfect book in my opinion: too long, too many poems, too many minor characters (that really didn’t DO anything in the end). But, I’d say it was worth the time spent reading it.

Julie, who has read (by her own admission) most everything Orson Scott Card has written, was appropriately shocked when I had no idea what Basilica was when she mentioned it in a comment a while back. After informing me it was the city in Memory of Earth, she “assigned” me to read it, hopefully before we met up for not-coffee in Ann Arbor last weekend. Well, I didn’t quite make the deadline, but I did read it.

My first reaction on picking up the book was: “Oh, yeah, this one.” I was in college when it came out and I remember when it hit the bookstore. I took one look at the book jacket, and was put off by Card’s blatant stealing of the Nephi story in the Book of Mormon. I didn’t want to give it the time of day; the man plagerized scripture (or what I believe to be scripture) after all.

Now, though, I’m glad I was encouraged to give it a chance. Yes, the plot for any good, church-going, scripture-reading, LDS member is completely predictable. I knew what was going to happen, especially as the book got going. That said, the way Card adapted and fleshed out the story was completely fascinating. Basilica is truly a fascinating place; what city that has existed for 40 million years (my mind can’t even begin to wrap itself around that one) isn’t? But beyond that, I found that the motivations for Elemak and Mebbekew to be completly believable; no longer are they just punk, bullying older brothers. And Nafai’s whole “conversion” process is understandable. Of course he would have questions and doubts. Okay, there were some weak spots (aside from the obvious plot hangups) and Card did spend a lot of time on probably needless details. And Gaballufix wasn’t excatly totally believeable as a bad guy. But overall, it was a decent read. I haven’t decided, though, whether to read the others or not.