Book to Movie Friday: Julie and Julia

I expected a nice, light chick flick when I got a group of foodie-minded friends together to see this last weekend.

What I got was half of a brilliant movie. The other half was fun– more fun than I expected — but not nearly as brilliant.

The half that I adored was the Julia Child half. Based on My Life in France, it took the best parts of the book — the beginning, when she was discovering France and French cooking — and played them for all that they were worth. Meryl Streep did a fantastic job channeling Julia, but it was more than that. Stanley Tucci was absolutely perfect as Paul Child, and you could feel the affection between the two of them as a couple. I was a tad bit disappointed that they didn’t do more of my favorite bits from the book — I liked her classes at Le Cordon Bleu, and her experiences with the Gourmandes — but what they did do was absolutely perfect. They got the Valentine’s cards in; they captured Julia’s determination and scientific approach.

And if the movie had just been about Julia Child, I would have loved it.

But, they needed — maybe because too much Julia Child would have been too much? — to juxtapose that with something more modern, and who better than Julie Powell? It’s not that I didn’t like Julie and Julia; I did well enough. And there were moments of her story that I did like, too (specifically the lobster). But, she came off as real needy in the movie; an attention-seeker, where everything was building up to a particular moment: the moment when the World noticed that she was a Writer. Sure, Julia Child was an inspiration, and a project, but she was also a stepping stone to something Bigger. Something Julie.

I’m not sure if that’s what she meant to portray when she wrote the book, but that’s really how it came off in the movie. And that soured the joy that was the Julia Child sections.

Verdict: see the movie! Read My Life in France, too. The other book’s optional.

When You Reach Me

by Rebecca Stead
ages: 10+
First sentence: “So Mom got the postcard today.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

I knew — knew — that I had to read this book back in April, when Betsy wrote about it. (Go take a moment to go read it, if you already haven’t. It’s one of the ones that leaves me in awe of Betsy’s writing ability. Then come back, and be kind to my review.)

It has the feel of those books about precocious kids in the 1970s, books that I loved growing up: The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler, The Westing Game, Harriet the Spy, and — most of all — Wrinkle in Time. The last one, in fact, plays a major role in the novel: our main character, Miranda (named for the Miranda Rights) adores Madeline L’Engle’s classic, preferring to carry around and read her beat-up copy rather than the books with the spunky girls on the cover that her teachers put in front of her.

There is so much to love about this book. From the tight writing — as Betsy pointed out: Stead is not only amazing at capturing characters with minimal descriptions, but also at foreshadowing — to the plot itself, there is not a wrong moment in the book. For me, the best part of the whole book is puzzling out the mystery along with Miranda. It’s not a completely implausible puzzle, once one gets over the initial conceit, and it’s fascinating to see how all the pieces fall into place.

Fascinating doesn’t cut it: it’s a remarkable book all around.

Library Loot #31

I went to check out; the librarian scanned my card and started scanning my books. I said, “A week without holds? Really?” She checked again, grinned, and said, “Nope. You’ve got a few.”

They know me. 🙂

For A/K:
Wally and Mae, by Christa Kempter/Illus by Frauke Weldin
Thank You Bear, by Greg Foley**
A Birthday Cake Is No Ordinary Cake, by Debra Frasier
A Penguin Story, by Antoinette Portis**
The House Across the Street, by Jules Feiffer
Josephine Wants to Dance, by Jackie French/Illus by Bruce Whatley**
The Plot Chickens, by Mary Jane and Horm Auch**
Oliver’s Milk Shake, by Vivian French/Illus. by Alison Bartlett

For C:
Bridge to Terabithia, by Katherine Patterson

For M:
Let It Snow: Three Holiday Romances, by John Green, Maureen Johnson, Lauren Myracle*
Just Listen, by Sarah Dessen*
City of Glass (Mortal Instruments), by Cassandra Clare*
Access Denied (and other eighth grade error messages), by Denise Vega

For me:
When You Reach Me, by Rebecca Stead* *squee*

The roundup is either at Reading Adventures or A Striped Armchair.

*Ones that M eventually read.
**Picture books we really liked.

The Forest of Hands and Teeth

by Carrie Ryan
ages: 12+
First sentence: “My mother used to tell me about the ocean.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

I think it was Leila and Jen who first made me decide that I needed to read a zombie book. This zombie book in particular. So, I stuck it on my library list, and waited. While I waited, it’s hit the book blogs, with mostly positive results. Because, you see, this zombie book is more than a zombie book: it’s a full-on zombie-dystopian-love story. And that makes it totally and completely Awesome.

The basic plot for those of you haven’t heard of this one yet: Mary’s village is isolated in the forest. As far as they know, everyone was killed after the Return, and they’re the only people left alive. They’re surrounded by the Unconsecrated, who are a constant threat in the lives of the villagers. Mary’s mostly happy there, except for dreams of seeing the ocean brought on by her mother’s stories. The set-up for the story is slowish; after Mary’s mother is infected, and later released into the forest, Mary spends many chapters restless in the service of the Sisterhood, the religious sect that evolved in this village. She also falls in love with a boy she’s not supposed to; he’s betrothed (and betrothal always leads to marriage) to her best friend. Once the story gets going, though — there’s a breach in the village’s fence, and the Unconsecrated attack, but Mary and a few others get away — it really gets going. Ryan does intensity incredibly well, especially since the book is anything but gory. There are moments when the action is so tense and suspenseful that it’s impossible to put the book down: you have to know what’s going to happen next.

The other thing that Ryan does exceptionally well is desire. Mary’s palpable desire for answers to her unspoken questions, for a life that is more than what the Sisterhood doles out for them in the villages. That’s not her only desire; her love for her best friend’s betrothed literally leaps off the page in a way I haven’t seen since Twilight. (Which may or may not be a good thing, depending on what you think of Twilight.)

It is true that the story, while it is mostly self-contained, peters out at the end. But, it’s also the first of a trilogy, so that can be forgiven. Besides, how could you not want to read a zombie-dystopian-love story? Really?

The True Adventures of Charley Darwin

by Carolyn Meyer
ages: 10-14
First sentence: “Odd, isn’t it, how a trivial thing can turn out to be a matter of greatest importance in one’s life.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

I had high hopes for this one.

I found it at the library while reading the evolution book, and I thought: a historical fiction book about Darwin. That’s got to be fascinating. Maybe it’ll shed more light on the whole evolution debate. Maybe it’ll be good historical fiction (Carolyn Meyer is a good writer). Maybe I’ll like it.

And I did. Well, the first third anyway. Meyer begins with Darwin being sent to boarding school, chronicling his education and interests. Education, he despised and (even though quite smart) did little for. Interests, though, he had many of. Including collecting, shooting, walking… but nothing that (he or his father thought) would lead towards a suitable career for a well-off but not noble English man.

Then, when he was 22, he was recommended to go on a surveying voyage around the world with a Captain FitzRoy. It was on this trip that he not only began to formulate the theory of evolution, but figured out what he wanted to do with his life. But, it’s also where the book fell apart for me. I enjoyed learning about Charley’s childhood. He’s a fun and fascinating kid, and Meyer has captured his voice in such a way as to bring him to life. But, once on the voyage, he’s bogged down in seasickness and collecting that it became much less interesting. And so, by the time the four year voyage was over, I had completely lost interest in the book.

Yes, it is really the adventures of Charles Darwin. It’s just too bad that they’re not terribly interesting.

10 Questions for Elle Newmark

One of the perks of doing blog tours, I think, is getting to “meet” the authors, eve if it is via email. Elle Newmark, author of The Book of Unholy Mischief (my review here), was gracious enough to answer a few questions I had about the book and her approach to writing.

MF: Was there anything in particular that prompted you to write this particular book?

EN: I had been searching for a novel idea, and one night I watched The Name of the Rose. As you probably know, it’s about a mentor/student relationship between a medieval monk, his novice, and a book. I went to bed with that movie in my head and woke suddenly at 4 a.m. with a foggy notion about a chef, his apprentice, and a cookbook.

My subconscious had substituted a chef for the monk because my father was an Italian chef and I grew up in a family where food was a centerpiece of life. When a writer grows up with a chef, food as metaphor is inevitable. I didn’t yet know what adventures the chef and his apprentice might have, or what mystery the book might hold, but that evolved into The Book of Unholy Mischief over 3 years of writing and many, many drafts.

MF: What drew you to Venice and this particular time period?

EN:Venice is a gorgeous and mysterious place. My main character says: “The water still whispers tales of death as it laps against decaying palazz. Men in capes still appear out of the darkness and dissolve back into it. Venice has always been the perfect setting for secrets, seduction, and the melancholy thoughts of the poet.” Venice is unique. And the early Renaissance was the perfect time for this tale because it was the beginning of man’s emergence from centuries of intellectual darkness. The printing press had recently been invented, and knowledge of all types (including much that was deemed “heresy”) was becoming more available to the general public. Great thinkers discovered that the earth moves around the sun at the same time that you could be put to death for saying as much. Forget the Alamo; remember the Inquisition. The combination of Venice along with the political/social/religious turmoil of the early Renaissance presented a huge tapestry of colorful people, places, and events. I found it irresistible.

MF: What kind of research did you do in the process of writing this book?

EN:Both research and personal experience informed the writing of this book. I visit Italy often because I have family there—in fact I have cousins named Luciano and Francesca who allowed me to use their names—and I have always considered Venice to be Italy’s most intriguing city. I did months of historical research, using libraries and the Internet, reading loads about the people who lived in Venice in 1498, what the politics were like, and how a kitchen might be run in the palace of the doge. I did further research into the odd little details like whether or not they used a paring knife or whether the common folk wore underwear. That stuff is harder to find. But it was only by being in Venice that I discovered how the damp night air felt clammy on my skin, how the Rialto market smells of fresh vegetables, how the greedy gulls swoop and cry, and how a gondolier’s oar cuts through a sluggish green canal like a stiletto. When readers call this book evocative, I believe they’re responding to my personal impressions of Venice.

MF: Did any of your expectations about the time period change during the process of writing?

EN: Oh, yes. I didn’t realize how much political clout the church had in those days. In 1498, the pope was Rodrigo Borgia (Pope Alexander VI) a rich Spaniard who bought the papal throne—and it truly was a throne. He wielded as much military muscle as any king, and he was ruthless. Italy was not yet a unified country, and the papal states were as rich and powerful as any other kingdom. A corrupt religious leader with sweeping political power is an insidious combination; it leads to no end of outrages and intrigues.

MF: I enjoyed all the evocative descriptions in the book, especially those of food… what kind of food experiences did you draw on writing this? Where did you get the information on the dishes you described in the book?
EN: As I mentioned, my father was a chef, and I fondly remember him stirring pots like a mad alchemist, defying gravity with one-handed omelette flips, and presiding over the annual family ritual of making ravioli from scratch. There was always something festive and almost magical about the preparation of food in our home. My mother was also a good cook, and I know our way around the kitchen as well, but the dishes I describe in the book were concocted for their metaphorical value. I tried to invent dishes that would illustrate whatever concept I was trying to get across. For example, the soufflé illustrates the beauty of a moment, the fleetingness of time. Veal is innocence, a black sauce is death, soft cheese is comfort, etc, etc, etc.

MF: Do you have a favorite character or scene?

EN: I like all my characters for different reasons. I like Luciano’s earnestness and the chef’s integrity, but I also like the truthful depiction of Guiseppe as a bitter drunk. I sympathize with Francesca’s dilemma about whether to follow her heart or her head, and there’s a horrible charm about the suave sophistication that covers Landucci’s murderous nature. Also, I am fascinated by the notion of a pope who was a jovial sociopath. I don’t think characters necessarily have to be likable to be interesting.

MF: What do you hope that readers will get out of the book?

EN: First, a good read. I love to hear from readers who tell me they did not want the book to end. Second, the message that we should honor our own uniqueness by thinking for ourselves. Follow no one blindly. Question everything.

MF: How did you become a writer; was it something you’ve “always” wanted to do?

EN: Yes, it was something I always wanted to do. As a child, I was a bookworm, haunting the dusty, one-room library in our neighborhood. I practically lived there. By the time I got to college (as an English major, of course) I devoured novels and secretly wrote little stories. I thought it would be really cool to write a whole book, but I didn’t think I could. It seemed too big. John Steinbeck is the author who really got me questioning how novelists do what they do. Of Mice and Men devastated me, and I put the book down wondering how ink on paper could make me sob with despair. How could I mourn a fictional character? And how does a writer, who is not present in the room, force me to turn the pages obsessively? I wanted to learn how to do that. I took creative writing classes and attended workshops. Then I found a group of talented writers willing to read and critique my work. But most important of all, I kept writing. They say it takes ten thousand hours to really master something. That’s a lot of writing, but it sounds about right. I wrote for almost thirty years before I published The Book of Unholy Mischief.

MF: Do you have a particular place or method when you write?

EN: When I work in my studio, I like to be comfortable. I sit in a cushy chair with my feet up on an ottoman and my MacBook Air on my lap. I don’t want an achy back getting in the way of my thoughts. But I also like to write outdoors and in foreign places. A certain sense of displacement seems to kick my creativity into high gear. Perhaps that’s why I started writing my first book when I lived in Europe.

As for method, I start with a concept and a few characters (whose life histories I write simply for my own information) and then I begin writing the story. After a while, I need to stop and make some sort of outline so I don’t get lost, but the most important thing is to keep writing. I allow myself to ramble on and on; I write truly terrible first drafts so that I have something to work on, which is much less intimidating than a blank page.

MF: What are five books you love/would highly recommend?

EN: OMG only five? There are so many great ones, but I’ll give it a shot.
1. Sophie’s Choice (a masterpiece)
2. The Book Thief (because Death as the narrator is brilliant)
3. People of The Book (Gorgeous writing, wonderful characters)
4. Wicked (Clever!)
5. Bonfire of the Vanities (satire doesn’t get any better than this)

MF: What can we expect from you next, if you are willing to share?

MF: My next book is a tale set in India. I spent all of last March in India, researching, and once again, my experience enriched the writing. The title is not yet decided, but the story involves two love stories, one hundred years apart, both set against the backdrop of war. An American woman, Evie Mitchell, accompanies her husband to India with their young son. He is going there on a Fulbright Fellowship. Evie hopes the shared adventure will bring them back together. Their marriage has been strained every since he returned from WWII, and she imagines the color and pageantry of India will distract them.

However, they are quickly caught up in the trouble surrounding the imminent partition of India between Hindus and Muslims. Violence begins, and they cannot flee. They are forced to remain in the small, fictional village of Masoorla. Stranded, Evie discovers a packet of letters hidden in a brick wall of her colonial bungalow. The letters hint at a strange and compelling story of love and war involving two young Englishwomen in 1857. Intrigued, she embarks on a mission to uncover the Victorian story. Her search leads her through the bazaars and temples of India, and into the dying society of the British Raj. It also exposes her husband’s dark secret and challenges everything she every believed about the man she married. This book is due to be released in 2010.

Thank you so much for your time! You can visit Elle on her webpage.

Growing Up

M is 13 today.

(I’m mildly freaking out because that means there’s a teenager in the house. Eek!)

She was 8 when I started this blog, and has been the one daughter to feature prominently on it (I love C, A, and K, and as they grow — if I’m still blogging — I’m sure they’ll find their way onto the pages here). But M has been here because she’s a reader, and that is something I love about her (among others).

I know it’s not a tradition for moms to make birthday wishes, but I’m going to make them just the same:

I hope that because we share the love of books, and in many instances the love of the same books, that we’ll be able to weather the next 5 years or so better than I weathered them with my mom.

I hope that as she goes on in school that she won’t forget the love of reading, that she’ll be able to make the time to continue to read, and be willing to continue to come to me and say “Mom! You HAVE to read this book! It’s awesome.”

I hope that I’ll always make time to hear her.

I’m blessed and lucky to have the girls that I do. I hope I can treat them as well as they deserve. (I love this song…)

Happy Birthday, M!

My Antonia

by Willa Cather
ages: adult
First sentence: “I first heard of Antonia on what seemed to me an interminable journey across the great midland plain of North America.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

The thing that struck me most about this classic — which I remembered being my favorite of Cather’s work when I went through all her books about 10 years ago — was the amount of affection in it. Affection not only for the characters, but for the immigrant situation, the land, as well as the friendship that develops between the two main characters.

There isn’t much of a plot — it follows Jim Burden, the son of some Virginians who ended up living in Nebraska with his grandparents, and his friendship with Antonia Shimerdas, the daughter of some Czech immigrants. They, like all children, have ups and downs and as their paths go in different directions as they get older, they drift apart. It’s not an easy life for Antonia; she has to work hard for everything she gets, especially after the suicide of her father (who did not take to immigrant life very well).

But the plot seems to be immaterial here, and I found I didn’t mind (which is strange for me; usually without a strong plot, a book just seems to drag.) because the affection just leaks out of the book. That, and Cather is one of those writers that just captivate you. She’s not complex or flowery in her writing, but rather opting for a very straight-forward, yet descriptive prose. Here’s my favorite passage:

When spring came, after that hard winter, one could not get enough of the nimble air. Every morning I wakened with a fresh consciousness that winter was over. There were none of the signs of spring for which I used to watch in Virginia, no budding woods or blooming gardens. There was only — spring itself; the throb of it, the light restlessness, the vital essence of it everywhere; in the sky, in the swift clouds, in the pale sunshine, and in the warm, high wind — rising suddenly, sinking suddenly, impulsive and playful like a big puppy that pawed you and then lay down to be petted. If I had been tossed down blindfold on that red prairie, I should have known it was spring.

See? Simple, yet incredibly evocative.

But, really, it was the affection that made the book for me. I enjoyed being a part of Jim and Antonia’s life, and the final section — where Jim makes it back to visit Antonia 20 years after last seeing her — really touched me. A true classic.

The Book of Unholy Mischief

by Elle Newmark
ages: adult
First sentence: “My name is Luciano — just Luciano.”
Review as part of the Pump Up Your Book Promotion book tours.
Support your local independent bookstore!Buy it there.

It’s Venice, 1498. The dawn of the Renaissance, when the conflict between knowledge and religion is at it’s peak. The Catholic Church has ultimate control, peasants are ignorant and suspicious. In the midst of all this, there are rumors of a book, one that has a love potion, or an elixir of life, or the formula to turn metal into gold. With it, someone could have great power, and so those in power are searching for it.

This is not the story of the book, or at least not directly. It’s the story of Luciano, an orphan street-rat who was plucked out of his life by the doge’s chef and into the life of a chef’s apprentice. He wants the book, convinced that it will make his life better. Except, the deeper he gets into his new life, the more he realizes that getting the book is not the point.

That’s the basic gist of the plot, but it’s really not an easy one to pin down. There is one, and there is character development, but about a third of the way in, one realizes that plot is not the point of the book. The book works more like a tapestry: rich, lush, gorgeous, layers upon layers. The plot is only the nails to hang the tapestry of the words on the wall. The things that stood out in this novel were not the characters, or even what happens — though the homage to knowledge and the Guardians of such was quite fascinating — but, rather the descriptions. From the food to the streets of Venice, it was all very sensuous, very evocative. Like the tapestry, it sometimes got overly busy, and even a tad sparse and slow at other times, but overall, the effect was stunning.

Eighth Grade Bites

The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod, #1
by Heather Brewer
ages: 11+
First sentence: “A tree branch slapped John Craig across the face, scraping his skin, but he kept on running and ignored the stabbing of pine needles on his bare feet.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

Vlad is not your typical eighth grader. Well, he is in many ways: he’s got a massive crush on Meredith, who seems to like his best friend, Henry. He doesn’t do spectacularly well in school, but manages okay. His parents died in a freak accident three years ago, and so he has that to deal with.

Oh, and did I mention? He’s a vampire.

His mom was human, and his dad was a vampire and (without all that messy Twilighty swoony vampirey stuff) Vlad’s been raised as a vampire. Granted, he’s a humane one: aside from biting Henry when they were eight, he’s never actually fed upon a human, but rather eating donated blood (in very creative forms) or raw meat. (This book was written in 2007, before the Twilight phenomenon, so no unfair Breaking Dawn comparisons, please.) As if his life wasn’t complicated enough — it’s no fun being a creature of the night when you’re forced to go to school during the day! — it looks like his substitute English teacher — brought in after his teacher, the Mr. Craig of the opening sentence, disappears — is figuring out Vlad’s secret.

It was billed as “ghoulishly funny”, but I didn’t really find it that. I did find it fascinating, and I liked Brewer’s take on the vampire world from the get-go. But, I guess I wanted more than a sullen eighth-grade boy (do all vampires need to be sullen?) trying to get over his dad’s death. Stick with the book, though: the ending few chapters are quite exciting. Enough so that I’m willing to give the other books in the series a try. Maybe Vlad will perk up a bit.

I do have to note that the library copy I read had pages with dried blood on them. Creepy, yes, but also very annoying. Can we make it a policy to not bleed on vampire books. Please?