Reading Notes

Deep winter months are in need of a good book and a hot drink. Ahhh delightful.

Recently I dabbled in some non-fiction:

How to Change Your Mind by Michael Pollan is an excellent if somewhat controversial read. Just what are we dealing with when we poke around in our subconscious? Just because we can, should we? Although I am intensely curious about it all, I can't help but feel it's better left alone. Regular, everyday, conscious life is confusing enough, no? Still it's fascinating to read about someone else's experience, especially someone as engaging as Michael Pollan.

Books like Pollan's I get from the library as I am trying to keep my own shelves at a reasonable capacity. And unless it is a particularly noteworthy or keepsake kind of book, or a book that I pick up for a few bucks at a sale, I'd really much rather borrow it than buy it. And, besides, isn't a library visit just a lovely experience anyway? I'd say, yes. Yes it is.

 

But now I am all in with some classic, old school authors and their wonderful fiction. For these I had to rummage through my long neglected, used-book-sale-acquired TBR shelf - also an enjoyable endeavour - and came up with The Pursuit of Love by Nancy Mitford (a double bill along with Love in a Cold Climate, which I will get to soon as I so much enjoyed Pursuit ) and Glimpses of the Moon by Edith Wharton, which I am reading right now and enjoying immensely.

But when fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he had been and things he has done since the last time he saw you.

~Stephen King, Salem's Lot

Reading Notes

Ooff. Well. I finally finished this gem a few weeks ago. It started out a lovely story, so well written and evocative of a time and place in history that makes reading historical fiction such a pleasure. But the tangents! Oh man. The first one came and went almost unnoticed as I was in such a haze of delight with the characters and story, but by the third and fourth one I was on to Charlotte's methods and started skipping large swaths of text just to get back to the actual timeline. It's too bad, really. I wanted to like this book so much that I broke with my rule of no guilt abandonment when tedium sets in (life is too short etc. ) Is there any truth to the old custom of paying authors by the word back in the day? or by the weight of the book? One can certainly see why tangents were popular for them.

Anywhoo. I'm on the fence with Villette. It's a lovely historic read if you can tolerate disorienting tangents.

So, as an antidote to classic literature, I chose this piece of modern fluff just for the sheer, easy reading fun of it. I like Gillian Flynn. I've read all three of her twisty psychological thrillers, especially Gone Girl the one that made her famous. Her writing is decent and well-paced and covers some pretty interesting aspects of human nature, although I find her use of gruesome imagery a bit much.

And then there's this one. I don't know if I qualify as an insomniac per se, but I do flirt with it on a regular basis. My nights are a series of intense but brief 'naps' interspersed with wakeful periods in which I usually read on my phone or ruminate in the dark over life's trivialities. So it was one night at 3am when I perused the website Brain Pickings on my phone and this book Sleep Demons by Bill Hayes came up as a feature of interest. It sounded like something I needed to read. I found a copy the next day at my library (actually, it was an interlibrary loan so although I 'found' it in the catalogue, it had to be brought in from another branch.) A few days later I had it in my hands and have been reading it ever since. It's wonderfully engaging and oh-so interesting! The author recounts his own experience with sleep, or the lack thereof, and weaves in some history, lore, and scientific studies. Just the kind of non-fiction I like to read.




After these? I don't know. I'd still like to keep going with the classic authors, I just need to hook up with one that clicks. I had my hand on Mark Twain's Innocents Abroad at the library the other day. Anybody read it? It looks like something I'd enjoy.

Happy Halloween

Just a few of my favourite spooky classics to wrap up the season. These are all well worth a read. You may find, in fact, that they are so good you'll be wanting to re-read them every October.

I'd also have to give Stephen King an honourable mention here, but he and I had a small falling out when he got too gory. I don't do gore well and think it is quite unnecessary when the story is good and has a solid creep factor.

Reading Notes

Not sure where I'm going with any of these: some of them were given to me, and one is from my own bookshelf. Being Mortal is so far winning my attention right now. It's an eye opening read for anyone facing old age either for themselves or through a parent or other loved one. What am I saying? EVERYONE will be confronted with this at some point in their lives. It's quite an important subject in a well written book by world renowned physician and author. He knows of what he speaks.

Alaska is an epically fun weekend read. The fictional story behind it is kind of dated and cheesy, but the rest is packed full of history and geology and other stuff that makes your brain expand with all the knowledge.

The Illegal is one I've not yet picked up but looks like a ripped-from-the-headlines good read.

Onward.

Torch by Cheryl Strayed

I love this book. I immediately passed it on to others I know who would appreciate an honest in-depth look at grief and what it can do to a family. A heavy topic, I know. But wow. After reading Wild and loving it for the honesty and insight into human nature, determination and vulnerabilities, I knew that anything else she wrote would be well worth reading. Her characters and settings are just so real you can feel their presence.

In her debut novel, Torch, bestselling author Cheryl Strayed weaves a searing and luminous tale of a family's grief after unexpected loss. Theresa May Wood has fled a bad marriage and rebuilt a life with her children, Claire and Joshua, and their caring stepfather, Bruce. Their love for each other binds them as a family through the daily struggles of making ends meet. But when they receive unexpected news that Theresa, only 38, is dying of cancer, their lives all begin to unravel and drift apart. Strayed's intimate portraits of these fully human characters in a time of crisis show the varying truths of grief, forgiveness, and the beautiful terrors of learning how to keep living.

Reading Notes

Even though I made it over half way through Jonathan Evison's The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving, I just couldn't finish it. Ugh. It was predictable, for starters, and also just too . . . oh I don't know . . . trying too hard to be tender but 'real'? It was a forced kind of authentic. I'm usually wary of books with long convoluted titles (The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, anyone?) so Revised Fundamentals must have snuck in under my reading radar. Isn't there a writing rule somewhere that recommends using fewer words whenever possible? A less-is-more kind of thing? I think that should apply to titles as well. The books themselves might be okay, it's just this one wasn't.

Anyway, moving on.

Before Wild, Cheryl Strayed wrote a novel called Torch, an emotionally heavy book about how cancer can wreak havoc on a family. I loved Wild and knew I would be reading everything else this author writes. So here I am reading Torch and loving it so far.

Crime and Punishment in a Nutshell

Although I read Crime and Punishment a few years ago and like it well enough, here's a hilariously snarky review  boiled down to eight key elements.

It is possible, though, to read this weighty tome for no other reason than to enjoy some international time travel of the armchair variety, with excitement and drama provided by unseemly characters in thorny situations. The Russian authors of old are quite accommodating in this regard.

The Round House by Louise Erdrich

How is it that Young Adult books like this are sitting alongside adult fiction? The storyline of Round House certainly has mature elements, but with a thriteen-year-old boy as the protagonist and hero of the story (and all the accompanying fascination with breasts and boners that come with that particular demographic) this book is soundly in the YA category. But because it was on the library shelf with other adult fiction, I kept expecting the teenage main character to grow up and conclude the story as wiser more enlightened, perhaps also more jaded, adult. But no. I'm increasingly baffled at the preponderance of teen books in mainstream reading lists. I don't get it.

Anyway, the story is touching and heartbreaking and compelling enough to see through to the end, but left me annoyed that it didn't go deeper.

(back cover)
In this bittersweet coming-of-age tale, Erdrich returns to the fictional setting of many of her novels, a North Dakota Ojibwe reservation. There in the spring of 1988, 13-year-old Joe's mother is raped; when efforts to bring the attacker to justice are thwarted by a labyrinth of laws applying to Indian lands, Joe considers taking action himself. Nominated for a National Book Award, the novel is another of Erdirch's haunting portraits of Native American life, tender but unsentimental and buoyed by subtle wit.

The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann

This is one of the most wonderfully thought provoking books I've ever read. It took me several months to get through all seven hundred pages and then another month or two to finally commit some thoughts to print, and even then I couldn't begin to do its depth and scope any justice. There is so much going on within the layers of the story I can well imagine some devoted scholars spending years studying all the characters and themes. For me, though, it was a purely recreational endeavor; I just blissed out with the evocative writing, the beautiful Swiss Alps setting, and the cast of quirky charaters with their oddly funny sense of humor and lengthy existential musings and discussions. It had me thoroughly captivated well into many, many a night. It was remarkable. I loved it. The only thing that keeps me from giving it a perfect 5/5 stars, though, is the ending, which I found unnecessarily bogged down with "one more thing" and "one more character" as if the author did not want to stop writing. Perhaps I didn't *get* the ending? Totally possible, I don't know. What I do know is that I am eager to get to more of Thomas Mann's books. I have Buddenbrooks, Doctor Faustus, and Confessions of Felix Krull already on my TBR shelf, all out-on-a-limb purchases from a community fundraiser book sale last fall. So far so good, I'd say.

(back cover)
With this dizzyingly rich novel of ideas, Thomas Mann rose to the front ranks of the great modern novelists, ultimately winning the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1929. In The Magic Mountain, Mann uses a sanatorium in the Swiss Alps - a community devoted exclusively to sickness -  as a microcosm for Europe, which in the years before 1914 was already exhibiting the first symptoms of its own terminal irrationality.
To this hermetic yet intrigue-ridden world comes Hans Castorp, a 'perfectly ordinary' young man who arrives for a short visit and ends up staying seven years. For on the Magic Mountain, Hans will succumb both to the lure of eros and to the intoxication of ideas. Newly rendered into English by acclaimed translator John Woods, The Magic Mountain is a monumental work of erudition and irony, sexual tension and intelectual ferment, a book that oulses with life in the midst of death.

Medicine Walk by Richard Wagamese

I so thoroughly enjoyed this book that I've had to give it a day or two to settle within me before I could commit any thoughts to words. Medicine Walk by Richard Wagamese is a contemplation on how we are all products of not only our own histories but those of our parents, grandparents and a wide array of extended family, friends and other influential people in our lives. As much as some would like to deny this, or parts of it, not at least acknowledging these connections serves no useful purpose. There is no one thread, one storyline, to anyone's life. Blame without facts or empathy is as easy as it is crippling. What Frank set out to do began as an obligation, more to his stepfather than Eldon himself. But what emerged through Eldon's stories in the midst of their wilderness solitude was Frank's understanding and acceptance of what his father's demons had been. Eldon, too, came to appreciate the impact his actions had on Frank's childhood. Although not perfect, both father and son gave each other an opportunity for closure before Eldon's death.

Apart from there being so much material for discussion in this story, the writing put me in mind of the old-school authors who don't embellish their prose with unnecessary words. The writing is sparse and yet I felt the tension and the trees and the moss and the wilderness as if I had been there with them. What a remarkable book.

(back cover)
Franklin Starlight is called to visit his father, Eldon. Having been raised on a farm by someone he knows as the old man, the kid, Frank, is sixteen years-old and has had only the most fleeting of relationships with his father. The rare moments they've shared haunt and trouble him, but Frank answers the call, a son's duty. He finds Eldon decimated after years of drinking. What ensues is a difficult journey through the rugged and starkly beautiful backcountry of the BC Interior and a vivid journey into the past as the two push forward. From a poverty-stricken childhood, Eldon leaves home abruptly, and soon after goes to fight in the Korean War. Later he finds work in various mill towns until he is taken in by Bunky and his woman to work on his land. Eldon relates to Frank the desolate moments in his life, and he tells of sacrifices made in the name of love. In doing so, he offers his son a world the boy has never seen, a history he has never known. Written in clear, luminous prose, Medicine Walk looks squarely into the dark corners of the soul, into the human capacity for love and goodness, no matter the stakes. Richard Wagamese's insight and compassion are matched by his remarkable gifts of storytelling and ability to create characters that will live in our hearts long after the last page is turned. 

Run by Ann Patchett

This was only so-so for me. I listened to it as an audiobook and found the narrator to be all wrong. I also had a huge problem with all the backstory. The book itself only takes place in a 24hr period and yet we keep getting looped back into these people's former lives, being brought up to speed with who they are now and why they're doing/thinking/feeling All The Things. It got to the point I was sure I had missed a chapter or some important scene because, huh? how did we suddenly get here? What just happened? Ugh. I don't know. I'm not a fan of randomly stitched together chapters. The premise of the story is good, though: adoption, multiracial families, and setting an example of a greater responsibility towards the people in one's community. I could see the stars aligning towards a pretty predictable end by the middle of the book but was compelled to continue just to confirm my predictions. And, ehn, yes, sure, the ending is good, exceeding my expectations, even. I just couldn't get around the clunky patchwork of chapters.

(back cover)
Since their mother's death, Tip and Teddy Doyle have been raised by their loving, possessive, and ambitious father. As the former mayor of Boston, Bernard Doyle wants to see his sons in politics, a dream the boys have never shared. But when an argument in a blinding New England snowstorm inadvertently causes an accident that involves a stranger and her child, all Bernard cares about is his ability to keep his children - all his children - safe. 

Child of God by Cormac McCarthy

Oh golly. Not for the faint of heart or squeamish, this one. As much as I love all things McCarthy, dark as they often are, Child of God will not go down as one of my favorites. The writing, of course, kept me glued to the page, and the story did have elements of his later book Sutree, a book I loved, but the scant 200 large-type, short-chapter pages felt more like a Hitchcock or Poe horror story of the kind I read as a teenager at Halloween than anything I would devote energy to absorbing now. As with most McCarthy books I'm sure there is a lot going on under the very weird surface here, but it was all to short and undeveloped for me to find.


(back cover)
Falsely accused of rape, Lester Ballard - a violent, dispossessed man who haunts the hill country of East Tennessee - is released from jail and allowed to roam at will, preying on the population with his strange lusts. His everyday actions are transformed into stunning scenes of the comic and the grotesque. And as the story hurtles toward its unforgettable conclusion, McCarthy depicts the most sordid aspects of life with dignity, humor, and characteristic lyrical brilliance. 

419 by Will Ferguson

Will Ferguson's 419 is a fascinating look into an email scam coming out of Nigeria. I hadn't realized how wide reaching these correspondences were when I first received one in my inbox a few years ago. A quick read-through informed me that it wasn't anything more than a ham-handed attempt to get a hold of my banking information and part with my money. I deleted it, of course, but not before taking a closer look. The writing sounded so earnest, so sincere, so desperate, that it got me to wondering about its origins and if anyone ever does indeed fall for it. After that I didn't think of it again until this book came out exploring the what-ifs on the victim's side and the complex background of the perpetrator's side. I say 'what-if' because I've never actually heard of anyone falling victim to the scam, but supposing they had . . .

Anyway, it's part fiction and part non-fiction, part murder (suicide?) mystery and part revenge story. And although it brings up some interesting cultural and historical parallels and paradoxes it isn't really much more than a quick weekend read. I found Laura's going solo to Nigeria to exact revenge on a shadowy internet scam cartel exciting but highly improbable. Grief and anger can make people do some pretty foolish things, I suppose, but the ending was a bit of a reach for me.

(back cover)
From internationally bestselling author Will Ferguson comes a novel both epic in its sweep and intimate in its portrayal of human endurance. 
A car tumbles through darkness down a snowy ravine.
A woman without a name walks out of a dust storm in Sub-Saharan Africa.
And the seething heat of Lagos City, a criminal cartel scours the internet looking for victims.
Lives intersect. Worlds collide. And it all began with a single email: "Dear Sir, I am a daughter of a Nigerian diplomat, and I need your help..."
Will Ferguson takes readers deep into the labyrinth of lies that is "419," the world's most insidious internet scam. 
When Laura Curtis, a lonely editor in a cold northern city, discovers that her father has died because of one such swindle, she sets out to track down - and corner - her father's killer. It is a dangerous game she is playing, however, and the stakes are higher than she can ever imagine.
Woven into Laura's journey is a mysterious woman from the African Sahel with scars etched into her skin and a young man who finds himself caught up in a web of violence and deceit. 

Gemini by Carol Cassella

Gemini by Carol Cassella was so surprisingly good, I've added her previous books Oxygen and Healer to my reading list. And by 'surprising' I just mean, how is it that this author is not already on my radar? I enjoy stories of the medical mystery sort, especially when combined with family issues, relationships, and ethics. There's a lot going on in here. The writing put me in mind of Ann Patchett or Barbara Kingsolver; it is clear, well paced and lean, which given Cassella's medical degree and English literature degree, could have been easily overdone. She presents the reader with a compelling story, some interesting medical detail and a beautiful West Coast setting and then steps aside to allow it all to unfold organically. One of the things I very much appreciate and look out for in fiction is this trust between author and reader, reader and author. Gemini is a mature and thoughtful read, highly recommended.

(back cover)
In Seattle, an unidentified and unconscious victim is admitted to Dr. Charlotte Reese's intensive care unit. As Jane Doe's condition worsens, Charlotte finds herself becoming increasingly consumed by her patient's plight, both medical and personal. Who is this woman? Why will no one claim her? Who should decide her fate if she doesn't regain consciousness - and when? Charlotte is forced to confront these issues head on - especially when her boyfriend, Eric, a science journalist, becomes involved. In their In their pursuit of the truth, in their quest for solutions, Charlotte and Eric find their relationship put to the test. It is only when they open their hearts to their own feelings toward each other - and toward life itself - that Charlotte and Eric will unlock Jane Doe's shocking secret. 

Where'd You Go Bernadette by Maria Semple ~ DNF

Ehn, I just couldn't do it. First off, it's a book written through letters and emails and messages and whatnot, a style I already have a hard time accepting. Secondly, precocious kids. I don't know, call me curmudgeonly, but I found fourteen year-old Bee to be a tad too *smart* and brash. Kids like this are neither clever nor cute and I certainly don't believe they should be calling the family vacation shots no matter how stellar their report card is. But then I'm of the old-school belief that parenting is a benign dictatorship and not a friendship of equals. Not, at least, until said kids are well on their way to supporting themselves.

Anywhoo, I digress. Perhaps it's a fun and quirky book to read for some, but I wasn't enjoying it enough to keep going.

War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy

And once again Tolstoy blows me away with his writing. After reading and falling in love with Anna Karenina last year, I knew War and Peace was possible. It's too bad it gets such a bad rap for being "too hard" and "too long" because really, it isn't. The scope of the story is huge, yes, but the chapters are short, the settings are beautiful and the characters are interesting, personable, complex, real. Just start reading and see if you don't find yourself a hundred pages in and still going strong. Then two hundred, then five... It got to the point, towards the end, that I actually didn't want it to end because I felt part of the extended Rostov family and I wanted to continue being with them, being part of their activities and debates and evolution during such a time of change.

I have to admit, though, there were are couple of times I flagged. As interesting as Napoleon and his plans to take over Europe were, I couldn't keep up with all the political and military strategy and analysis, although I can certainly see how a reader with a military background might be enthralled. War and Peace is packed with history, both social and political, and would, could, should be part of every reading list, if not for the fully complete content then for the simple pleasure of reading such sublime writing. It is one of the few books where I wanted to go straight back to page one and start all over again.

I would love to be able to read the original Russian, but alas. The reading of War and Peace for me relies on English translations, of which, thankfully after being in print for over a century, there are many. I picked the newest translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky because they had done such a wonderful job with Anna Karenina, at least so I thought as it was the only copy I had on hand. I did a quick check online of opinions of this particular duo and it seems they are indeed quite popular, so I bought their version of War and Peace and didn't think of it again. Once I got into the story, though, I realized I needed to download the free e-book, the digital version of a 1923 translation by Louise and Aylmer Maude, for reading on my phone, all 4729 tiny pages. No matter, though. I was falling in love with this book and needed to have access to it at all times. I then came across a fat little 1991 paperback at a used book sale -translated by Ann Dunnigan- and had to have that one for beside my bed. So now I have three different versions of the same book -one upstairs, one downstairs and one in my purse. Since I was reading them all regularly it didn't take me long to realize that each one had its own . . . tone? feel? voice? I'm not even really sure what to call it, but I was gravitating more towards the old paperback and the e-book than I was to the new Pevear and Volokhonsky version. I can't think what else it could have been other than the translation. Their choice of words, interpretation and structure didn't touch me the way the others did. It's so fascinating that language can be so pliable. If Tolstoy's writing can still be so lovely translated untold number of times 140 years after he wrote it, what must it be like for native-speaking Russians to read it in Russian? For more on translations of War and Peace, check out the new blog Tolstoy Therapy. Lucy has yet another version of this most wonderful book and much more in depth to say about it.

War and Peace is such a fantastic reading experience, I can't recommend it highly enough. There's so much going on within these pages I could say, take your time, savor it, but if you're like me you'll want to keep reading and reading and never put it down.

(back cover)
War and Peace broadly focuses on Napoleon's invasion of Russia in 1812 and follows three of the most well-known character's in literature: Pierre Bezukhov, the illegitimate son of a count who is fighting for his inheritance and yearning for spiritual fulfillment; Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, who leaves his family behind to fight in the war against Napoleon; and Natasha Rostov, the beautiful young daughter of a nobleman who intrigues both men. As Napoleon's army invades, Tolstoy brilliantly follows characters from diverse backgrounds - peasant and nobility, civilians and soldiers - as they struggle with the problems unique to their era, their history, and their culture. And as the novel progresses, these characters transcend their specificity, becoming some of the most moving -and human- figures in world literature. 

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

This book is . . . I can't even . . . what on earth? . . . holy crap.

I haven't been this wowed by a contemporary book since, oh I don't know, ever? It had me absolutely gripped from the opening credits -I listened on audio, all 15 disks- until the very last passage. It was just bad timing that I started it before the holidays when I had to take long breaks to attend to domestic obligations, power outages, ice storms and polar vortexes. I was stranded, I tell you. Stranded. A piece of advice? Clear your calendar for this one. Set in supplies and take the phone off the hook because Gone Girl is unputdownable.

What's it about? It's about a guy looking for his missing wife. It's a psychological thriller. I can't say more or I might give something away. And really, it's best read without expectations or assumptions. There. That's all I'm going to say. Get your hands on a copy to read or listen to before the movie comes out in October. Apparently they've rewritten the ending for the movie...? Hmm. Curious. I thought the ending of the book would be perfectly serviceable on the screen. Whatever. With the cast they've got lined up, I'm sure it will be splendid.

As good as it is, though, I have some questions about what appear to be holes in the plot. Not many. One or two. The overall story is so gripping, so good, that I'm willing to let a couple things go. But still. Anyone else? I don't want to get into specifics here because that would be spoiler-y, but perhaps email to discuss . . .

The Museum of Extraordinary Things by Alice Hoffman

Here's an author I can always count on to take me away to other times in history. In Alice Hoffman's latest book, The Museum of Extraordinary Things, the reader is transported to 1911 Manhattan and the attractions at Coney Island. With all the rapid social and industrial changes in North America, early 1900s is one is one of the most interesting eras to read about. And what Alice Hoffman does so well (as she also did with The Dovekeepers) is to set her narrative to the backdrop of actual places and historical events, in this case the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire and the Coney Island Dreamland fire, two tragedies that frame the story of Coralie Sardie and Eddie Cohen.

Coralie was born with deformed, webbed hands and has been her father, professor Sardie's, freak show project her entire life. He is the owner and curator of a Coney Island boardwalk attraction called the Museum of Extraordinary Things where he houses and displays various  animal and human curiosities from around the world, many of which are Coralie's only friends. The professor builds a large tank and fashions a 'fishtail' for Coralie's lower body to display her as a mermaid. He also pushes her to practice holding her breath and to swim the icy waters of the Hudson river in all weather, an activity she comes to enjoy for the solitude it affords her. Coralie's life is very much prescribed, exploited and hidden but she gains a sense of the world outside her father's grasp, from books and stories brought in to the museum by the other performers and employees, and from Eddie, the mysterious young photographer she spies on the banks of the Hudson.

Eddie Cohen's narrative alternates with Coralie's beginning with a seemingly unrelated event. He takes photos of the devastation at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory after a fire on the 8th, 9th, and 10th floors kills 146 mostly immigrant women and girls, many of them jumping to their deaths on the street below. One of the girls is not accounted for and Eddie believes he might be able to find out what happened, for he too has spied a mystery on the Hudson.

Part history, part murder mystery, part love story, The Museum of Extraordinary Things is all Alice Hoffman. The only issue I have is not so much in the alternating viewpoints (a former peeve of mine that I have come to accept and even appreciate when the writing is good) but in the alternating perspectives between the chapters as well. Some are written in first-person, others in third. I found it a disorienting way to absorb the story. However, the writing is lovely, the characters are well developed and the attention to place and detail is spot-on. Hoffman addresses the harsh realities of life for young people and immigrants, factory workers and circus performers early in the last century. I think fans will recognize and enjoy the human touch Hoffman so often brings to her works of historical fiction.

The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides

Even though this book represents a number of my reading peeves, I really, really enjoyed it. Normally I don't tolerate too much back-story or backtracking because, why can't authors just tell a story in a normal, chronological, linear way? And I've recently sworn off coming-of-age stories, so really, the fact that I kept eagerly reading The Marriage Plot is a testament to this author's skill. But then, of course, Jeffrey Eugenides.

It's also curious that the protagonist, Madeleine, although I love that she is an English major and peppers her narrative with myriad literary references, is such a vapid and spoiled young woman. She keeps being referred to as 'whip-smart and beautiful' but I found her spineless and whiny and disliked her more and more as the story went on. Her parents, too, weren't particularly likable but were easier to forgive being of an older, perhaps more repressed generation. They loved their daughters but, the mother, Phyllida, "all hairspray and handbag" found it especially difficult to accept the realities of modern relationships, especially across class lines. Leonard, Madeleine's boyfriend, is one of the most complex characters I've come across in contemporary fiction in a long time. Suffering from bipolar disorder (at the time known as manic-depressive), he is both endearing, infuriating, and I'm guessing, a pretty accurate and humane representation of mental illness. No wonder it's such an elusive condition to treat. That leaves Mitchell, as odd and flawed as he is, as the winsome afterthought. When everyone else's cards are on the table, it looks like perhaps he's the one to root for.

So why did I like this book so much? I can only attribute it to the author's handling of such complicated and volatile social issues. I appreciate his trust in the reader's ability to apply a mature perspective to relationships that on the surface look straightforward, but in reality are considerably more problematic. I also found it interesting that it he chose 1982 as the year this all takes place. It's distant enough to feel dated (no cell phones or internet!) but recent enough to feel relevant. And finally, as a reader, he made me realize that my 'peeves' and prejudices are really quite unfounded.
5 out of 5 stars.

It's the early 1980s, the country is in a deep recession, and life after college is harder than ever. Madeleine Hanna, dutiful English student and incurable romantic, is writing her thesis on Jane Austen and George Eliot, authors of the great marriage plots. As Madeleine studies the age-old motivations of the human heart, real life - in the form of two very different men - intervenes. Leonard Bankhead, brilliant scientist and charismatic loner, attracts Madeleine with an intensity that she seems powerless to resist. Meanwhile, her old friend Mitchell Grammaticus, a theology student searching for some kind of truth in life, is certain of at least one thing - that he and Madeleine are destined to be together.\
Over the next year, as the members of the triangle in this funny, wise, and heartbreaking novel enter the real world, events force them to re-evaluate everything they learned in school. With wit and an abiding understanding of and affection for his characters and the drama of life, Jeffrey Eugenides creates a story so contemporary and fresh that it reads like the intimate journal of our own lives. (back cover)