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The Book’s The Thing

June 3, 2008

One of the books I wish I’d written…

Gosh diddly darn it (edited for delicate ears), why didn’t I think of this idea first? I’ve been moaning about this exact topic, not that I have any answers, but I have asked myself a lot of questions about how the distractions of modern, everyday life will affect the future.

I look at my children, like most kids they’re in love with YouTube, video games, etc. Though they do read, and enjoy it, I worry about their constant need to be entertained.

When I was a kid I spent many long stretches bored out of my skull. I grew up in a small town, one so tiny you could practically throw a rock on one side of town and hit someone on the other (preferably someone you had a grudge against). Okay, maybe it wasn’t THAT small, but I did have a graduation class numbering less than 30. That’s pretty darn small.

My kids live in suburbia. Their schools are huge and getting more overcrowded by the day. Between all their activities and their love of entertainment they hardly know boredom at all. That’s a distinct disadvantage. It’s in times of boredom we come to use our creativity to think of things to do, simple things not involving electronics or even spending money at all. In my small town we rode our bikes to the dime store, or even to nowhere in particular, when we were bored out of our skulls. We played with things like big cardboard boxes. That was high entertainment. Heck, I even spent time hanging out in a big, decorative pot my mother had outside our house, looking at the sky and listening to the birds. Then again, that was the time ‘Isis’ was on TV, and I firmly believed I controlled the weather. But that’s a topic for my therapist.

But today? There’s no boredom. There’s text messaging, the internet, and in our house and many others satellite TV. No one spends time just hanging out anymore, or at least few people do. I lounge around reading a lot, but I’m a bibliomaniac, not the average sort of person at all. I also write, whether columns, essays or just in my journal. I fill potential boredom gaps with things that require actual brain power beyond which button to press on the Wii remote.

How will this generation’s lack of attention span affect all of our futures? What could even be done to change it? Those are questions that drive me out of my mind sometimes, especially when trying to convince my kids going to Ravinia and sitting on a picnic blanket, eating cheese, crackers and sushi while listening to lovely music is a good use of time. Or, God forbid, visiting the Chicago Botanic Gardens (though I’ll admit when I bring my camera along that can be excrutiating even for adults) just to see “stupid flowers.”

It’s a real problem, and this book seems to address that. I haven’t read it, but I’ve put it on my list. It may be a good summertime read, for those hours here and there I’m able to scrape together. My kids will be busy with video games anyway, so maybe free time will actually happen, between taking an online MLIS course and all the other things I’m involved with. It could happen.

I just wanted to call your attention (hopefully not limited) to this book. I think this is an extremely important issue. One we would all do well to think about.

posted by Lisa at 11:47 am | Comments (0)

November 5, 2007

Touristic Guidings to Glorious Nation of Kazahstan, and Touristic Guidings to Minor Nations of U.S. and A.

It may be prudent to sidestep any questions as to taste, when it comes to the topic of Borat. If you can actually use the words “taste” and “Borat” in the same sentence, that is, without having to evoke a clause from the Geneva Convention or something.

Or, maybe I won’t evade the topic, actually, considering the profession I’m in (or studying to be in, to be more technical), and my hardline stance against censorship. But I will, in this case, tread lightly out of respect for the sensibilities I can understand being a little threatened by such an obnoxious character as Borat.

Objectionable humor notwithstanding, his book, or, more accurately, the book Sacha Baron Cohen’s character inspired, landed on my desk this morning. It came to me via Random House, whose publicity department sent it out to me for potential review on my other blog. However, no interview with Sacha Baron Cohen is likely to be forthcoming here. For one thing, he doesn’t need the publicity. For another, he’s out of my reach without benefit of some really Herculean effort, and frankly, I’m too busy right now for anything that single-minded and time consuming.

I’ve seen the film inspired by Cohen’s character. I have a pretty tough hide, so it didn’t offend me, but that’s not the case for everyone. I wouldn’t even say I recommend the film, except to others similarly impervious to any kind of insult whatever. I’d recommend it to armadillos without equivocation, but to anyone else I’d probably pause a really long time before admitting what I personally thought of it. It’s just that weird, and unclassifiable. I know, there’s so much in it to offend, but it offends everyone pretty much equally. If you offend everyone equally, you essentially offend no one.

Or something like that.

Borat’s “travel guide” will be out in bookstores tomorrow. I’m one of the lucky (?) elect to have it in my hands today. If you enjoyed the film you’ll definitely enjoy the book. If you didn’t? Well, you may not want to put this one on your holiday list.

I hope you like very much!

posted by Lisa at 11:31 am | Comments (0)

July 5, 2007

‘End in Tears’ by Ruth Rendell

As Barbara Vine, Ruth Rendell does creepy like nobody’s business. I generally prefer her Vine titles to her Rendells. Though she uses great psychological complexity in both guises, she tends to get more inside the head of the disturbed characters when she writes as Barbara Vine. And to my mind, that’s the more interesting style.

I haven’t read all her books, but I have consumed the vast majority, including several featuring the indomitable Chief Inspector Wexford. Before reading End in Tears I liked him well enough, but really hadn’t enjoyed a Wexford novel as well as I’d hoped. With this latest addition to her oeuvre, I was more impressed.

The plot of End in Tears begins to thicken very early on, after the body count starts piling up a bit. Shortly after what on the surface appears to be a random act of highway violence, a beautiful, unmarried, beautiful mother dies. Then a friend of hers, similarly young, though not the beauty Amber was, is dead. The connection between them is friendship, but considering Amber dies with a thousand pounds in cash still in her pocket, and more stuffed in her desk drawer, Chief Inspector Wexford begins to think there’s more than friendship between these two girls, and whatever they were involved with it included large cash payments. The more he digs, the more disturbing details he finds.

Meanwhile, his own daughter is going through trials of her own. Divorced, she finds she’s pregnant by her ex-husband, who’s steady girlfriend seems likely to shortly become his wife. Dora Wexford is beside herself, understandably, and the family seems on the verge of being ripped apart.

At the home of Amber’s father and step-mother, her young child toddles around, calling “Mama, mama…” Inspector Wexford feels he owes that sweet little boy the resolution to his mother’s murder, though the final denouement turns out to be more shocking than he’d even imagined.

Ruth Rendell has crafted another taut, gripping tale with End in Tears. I’m still not as big a fan of her Rendell books, but this one had me in its grasp. A worthy entry to the world of Ruth Rendell.

posted by Lisa at 11:33 am | Comments (1)

An Interview with Author Susanne Dunlap, author of ‘Liszt’s Kiss’

When an author is very familiar with her subject matter, it shows. Author Susanne Dunlap’s life has been dedicated to music, and her passion for that comes through so clearly in her writing.

Liszt’s Kiss is a historical novel set in 19th century Paris, where art and music reigned supreme. It’s a world peopled by the rich and famous, at the same time that the city was gripped by a cholera epidemic. Anne de Barbier-Chouant is a young musical prodigy, a girl taught her love of the pianoforte by her own music-adoring mother. But once her mother falls prey to the deadly disease Anne must turn elsewhere for support in her musical endeavors, as her father doesn’t think it’s a proper occupation for a young lady.

Fortunately for Anne, her mother’s very good friend Marie d’Agoult takes it upon herself to continue her musical education. When Franz Liszt introduces himself to Marie she in turn leads him to Anne, the gifted prodigy. But it’s not Anne that has his eye, and an interestingly convoluted romantic plot ensues, involving misunderstood meanings.

Meanwhile, in the background, a family secret looms large, and Anne’s father struggles to keep that hidden, at any cost.

An Interview with Author Susanne Dunlap

1. What was it about Franz Liszt that captured your attention? What drew you to focus on him, and on this particular period of history?

Franz Liszt is one of the most colorful characters in music history. He truly was the original “rock star” of music. He was handsome, romantic, and he took risks in his life and his music. It was very easy for me to imagine how it might feel to be a young woman and be completely enchanted by him as a man and as an artist.

Musically, Liszt was a little bit of a late bloomer compared to Chopin and Schubert. So his early life, when he first came to Paris, is not as well documented as later on when he was touring heavily and then when he settled in Weimar to teach master classes. I always look for the cracks, for the potential of a “might have been,” when I’m writing my historical fiction, and this early part of Liszt’s life seemed ideal.

As to the time period, I’m a pianist myself, and there is no more wonderful era for the piano than the romantic one, which started roughly with Schubert in the 1820s and continued through the 19th century. I was able to play out (excuse the pun) a little of my own fantasy of being around when the composers who were my heroes were alive.

2. How much time did you spend researching the history in order to write this novel?

That’s always a difficult question. I spent eleven years in graduate school studying music history and writing about music in a more scholarly way. I have been able to rely on that background research for quite a bit of the material of my books.

But there’s such a difference between the research one does in a very particular field and the research one must do in order to recreate a period in history. Whatever I thought I knew, for instance, I was not really aware of the devastating cholera epidemic until I read more widely for the sake of the story.

3. The main female character, Anne de Barbier-Chouant, is a very spirited young lady. Was she based on an actual historical figure, or is she entirely fictional?

Anne is entirely fictional, but I hope true to the period. Her choices were limited. Yet as a member of the aristocracy she would have had a little more freedom and options than women in other classes. On the other hand, the strictures of society also placed expectations on her that a shopkeeper’s wife would not have had.

4. What authors do you feel have most influenced your writing? Which authors do you admire most?

Influence vs. admire. That’s an excellent question. I am a passionate devotee of Virginia Woolf, Henry James, and all the Bloomsberries.

Then there’s F. Scott Fitzgerald, William Kennedy, Elizabeth Bowen—there are too many to list. But my writing is not like any of them.

It’s hard for me to identify any definite influences. Perhaps Anya Seton would be a good example. Problem is, I’d never read any Anya Seton before my first novel was published!

I cut my teeth on Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers and am a huge mystery fan. I always love a book that keeps me turning the pages.

5. Do you keep a strict schedule in your writing? How difficult is it to balance writing and the rest of your life?

I do keep a strict schedule, which is based on the principle of writing whenever I have a spare minute. I set my alarm for 5:15 am and aim to be at my computer by 5:30. That gives me an hour and a half before I have to start getting ready for work.

Which answers in part the other question. I have a very demanding day-job, but in a peculiar sort of way, I think it helps to focus me.

That said, I always accomplish a lot over the weekend and when I go on vacation. I’m extremely fortunate to have a very understanding partner, who not only gives me the time and space I need rather than demand I pay attention to him, but also loves me to read aloud as I finish things. (It also helps that I’m an empty nester. I have tremendous admiration for the people who can write while they raise families AND work.)

6. Have you always wanted to be a writer, or was there one defining moment when you made that decision?

It’s taken me a long time to find my vocation. I was a musician first. I made a few attempts at writing (which I always enjoyed doing) in my 20s, when I gave up the idea of a career as a pianist and started working in advertising.

Then I left advertising to go to grad school and I thought would have a career teaching music history at the college level.

I didn’t really discover that I had inadvertently groomed myself to write historical fiction based on musical subjects until I found out how difficult it would be to get a job I could actually take (meaning in the northeast), even with the credentials of a Yale PhD.

7. If you could no longer be a writer, what career would you choose to pursue?

Well, since I’ve been through so many careers to get to this point, I might just throw my hands up in the air. And in any case, the only thing that would ever prevent me from being a writer would be some mental incapacity—which would make me unfit for any other career anyway. I could no more stop writing than I could stop breathing.

8. What other projects are you working on currently? What’s next for you after Liszt’s Kiss?

More musical subjects, of course! I have two novels simmering: one that takes place in the early 17th century in Florence and Paris, and another in the late 18th century in Vienna. The wonderful thing about music history is that I don’t think I’ll ever run out of stories.

9. As a public library employee myself, I have to ask if libraries played a significant role in your love of books and reading. Do you have any early memories of the influence libraries had on you?

I LOVE LIBRARIES. Did I say that loudly enough? Let me repeat myself. I LOVE LIBRARIES! If I could spend all day every day in a library, I’d be the happiest person on earth.

When I was little, almost one of the first things I was allowed to do by myself (with friends) was to go to the public library. I don’t remember all the books I used to take out, but one or two: The Witch of Blackbird Pond, practically everything Mary Stewart ever wrote. I still remember the local library in Kenmore, New York , right across Delaware Road from the junior high school. I remember the children’s library on the lower level, and the adult library on the main floor. I can still see myself wandering there, an armload of books ready to check out.

I developed a taste for rare books and manuscript archives when I was in graduate school. Days in the British Museum , leafing through Handel manuscripts, or in Vienna at the Staatsbibliothek with Mozart and Salieri’s works, and less well-known composers too.

I should stop now, before your readers start to think there’s something odd about me . . .

——————————————————————————–

Thanks so much to Susanne Dunlap, and to her publicist as well, for sending me a review copy of this book and arranging the author interview.

posted by Lisa at 10:51 am | Comments (0)

July 3, 2007

‘The Opposite House’ by Helen Oyeyemi

From The Opposite House by Helen Oyeyemi:

“I need my Cuba memory back, or something just as small, just as rich, to replace it, more food for my son, for me. I think I will pretend that I am not from Cuba and neither is my son. The boy and I started a race from that other country, and I got here first.”

The Opposite House reads like a book written by the love child of Virginia Woolf and Gabriel Garcia Marquez, assuming either had been from Cuba. It’s a story filled with yearning for a native country, or for the memory of a native country, despite the fact the main character, Maja Carmen Carrera, only has one memory left of her childhood. Twenty years later she’s pregnant with her boyfriend Aaron’s baby, and living in London. Still, that one memory goes along with her, haunting her dreams.

The book is shot through with so much internal conflict the pain is often palpable, and sometimes raw. An African Cuban, she doesn’t feel she fully belongs in either the world with her memory of Cuba or in an England that doesn’t completely feel like home, either:

“I was seven years old when we came here. I’ve come to think that there’s an age beyond which it is impossible to lift a child from the pervading marinade of an original country, pat them down with a paper napkin and then deep-fry them in another country, another language like hot oil scalding the first language away. I arrived here just before that age.”

It’s the lushness of the language, though, that’s the dominating factor in what makes this such a wonderful book. The sensuous language is woven throughout:

“The day was hot but gentle; beneath its healing steam lay granite, decrepit wood, rocks gloved in blanched sand. The harbour water caught sunlight in layered hoops of petrol-coloured dirt and tried to keep its clarity secret, but the divers told. Small, earth-brown boys kept bobbing up, their backbones hacking out of their skin, hair plastered to their heads, coin pouches around their waists rattling as they added new handfuls of slick bronze to their store.”

The Opposite House is told in alternating narrative, flashing between Maja’s story and the fantastical, alternate reality of a girl named Yemaya, whose connection with Maja really is never completely spelled out. Rather, it’s a more spiritual connection, a reaching across the dimensions between two souls who don’t feel fully at home, or at ease, and whose searchings lead them almost to each other, in a sort of alternate reality that lies between them. It has a lot to do with feeling alien, never able to feel you fit into a culture, but not able to go back, either, because that door has closed. It’s this door, between the two worlds, that seems to be Oyeyemi’s target, this ethereal, intangible “door” that won’t open for either Maja or Yemaya, and it’s this reality that frustrates the both of them. Yet, neither can forget the past, and they carry the weight of it with them while trying to make their lives elsewhere. They are a part of several cultures but don’t completely belong to any one:

“I strip to my underwear and I study myself in the mirror; it is a bronzed sorrel woman with a net of curly hair who looks back, and she does not look Jamaican or Ghanian or Kenyan or Sudanese - the only firm thing that is sure is that she is black. Mami says only Cubans look like Cubans; put three Cuban girls together - white, black, Latina, whatever - and you just see it.”

Ultimately, both women are strong. They are survivors. Despite their feelings of disconnection, they carve out lives for themselves in an adopted land that at the least is rich in opportunity and the potential for making a good life. And it’s through the beauty of Oyeyemi’s prose that the reader is able to explore not just the complexity of Maja and Yemaya, but also the tenuous link that binds them to each other. And the result is a gorgeous book, rich in luxuriant prose that’s a treat to read.

“She fled to be born. She fled to be native, to start somewhere, to grow in that same somewhere, to die there. She didn’t know just then that she wasn’t quickening toward home, but trusting home to find her.”

From Random House website:

HELEN OYEYEMI was born in Nigeria in 1984, and has lived in London from the age of four. She completed The Icarus Girl just before her nineteenth birthday, while studying for her A-levels. She is now a student of Social and Political Sciences at Cambridge University. She has written two plays, Juniper’s Whitening and Victimese; The Icarus Girl is her first novel, and she is at work on her second.

posted by Lisa at 3:11 pm | Comments (0)

‘The Interloper’ by Antoine Wilson

From The Interloper by Antoine Wilson:

“The word ghost should be like the word pants - it should never be singular. No one leaves behind one ghost. Everyone who dies leaves behind at least as many ghosts as people they knew.”

The Interloper was an impromptu read for me. I didn’t intend to read it right now, with all the piles of review books accumulating around me like ants at a summer picnic. If my hand hadn’t happened to touch this particular book, while I was pawing through a bag of books, who knows when I’d have gotten to it. I didn’t get a review copy of it, so there was no sense of true urgency, but I had an idea it had been lauded as a really good read. And far be it from me not to be influenced by that.

So I picked it up, and read the first couple of pages. Then I read a few more pages, then I said “Hell with it. I’m taking this one to my reading lair…” And the rest is history. It was as close to unputdownable as it gets.

The main character, Owen Patterson, is a man whose worsening mental state pulled me in and wouldn’t let go. As his obsession grew so did mine, and before I knew it there was no escaping until I knew how all this resolved itself.

What would the average man do if his wife felt tortured by the knowledge her brother’s murderer wasn’t paying all that stiff a price for his crime, if the pain and sadness of it had turned her into a person he no longer recognized, and he felt himself powerless to help?

The average man may not be willing to go to the lengths Owen Patterson did, starting up a correspondence with the killer, posing as a beautiful young woman, trying to win his heart and then break it, just as his wife’s heart had been broken. The further Owen gets into his plan, the more his sanity takes a dive, plunging him into obsession. The need for revenge becomes so overwhelming he puts everything on the line, risking his job and his relationship with his wife, hoping against hope that once all is said and done he’ll be able to say he’d maybe not righted the wrong, but that he’d at least balanced it out a bit. And his wife, he reasoned, would feel better knowing he’d loved her enough to do that for her, and maybe, just maybe, she’d snap back to herself again, and everything between them would be as great as it had been before her brother was senselessly and brutally murdered. That’s a lot of maybes, but when maybe is all you have you may just take a chance and grasp at anything.

“Every moment contains within it the seeds of its own destruction.”

The Interloper’s a fascinating read, especially if you love books that delve into the darker side of the psyche, like I do. The prose is beautiful, and the plot grabs you by the throat. A fine, fine book.

Author Antoine Wilson

Check out his website and his blog.

posted by Lisa at 11:03 am | Comments (0)

February 21, 2007

Review: Mississippi Sissy by Kevin Sessums

Kevin Sessums’s memoir Mississippi Sissy was one of an armload of review books the Holtzbrinck group sent me recently. In that pile of general and genre fiction, this one leapt out at me immediately. Not only was it the only work of nonfiction in the box, but it’s not everyday you see a title with Mississippi in the title, much less one with as engaging a word as “sissy” to go with it. It gets the attention, it really does.

Just a catchy title isn’t enough, of course, if the book itself doesn’t engage. In this case the style engaged me immediately, and the authentic Mississippi voice was one I could identify with, coming from that state myself.

Sessum’s book tells the story of growing up gay in 1960s Mississippi. It may take a moment for the immensity of that to hit home, but considering this is KKK territory you may rest assured this was one rough ride. Mississippi isn’t exactly a state noted for being liberal, nor especially tolerant of anyone the slightest bit “different.” It was a rough ride made worse by Sessum’s uber-macho father, whose disappointment with his son played a major role in his growing up. Imagine being everything your father despises, yet wanting so badly to be a good son and make him proud. The difficulty of his childhood is painful and poignant, and Sessum reacts by shutting down his emotions, in an attempt not to embarrass his father further.

In contrast, his mother thought his cross-dressing cute and funny, at least until her husband began reacting more violently. If Sessum’s father hadn’t been killed in a car accident the violence and anger would surely have escalated.

Closely following his father’s death his mother also died from cancer, leaving the boy orphaned from a young age. With his mother Kevin had enjoyed a much closer relationship. She gave him the feeling of being loved and wanted, and there was also a certain playful camaraderie between them. They shared secrets, as well as private jokes. Her death left Kevin adrift, disconnected from his immediate family.

Mississippi Sissy is a courageous, warm, and often poignant memoir of what it is to be different from the mainstream in an unforgiving environment. It’s also a testament to Kevin Sessum’s spirit that he was able to weather it all and go on to become a writer known for his celebrity interviews. He’s an interviewer celebrities seem to trust implicitly, and there’s a quality to his writing in his memoir that may give the reader a good idea why that is. He has a genuineness, as well as an unforced honesty, that lends an especially compelling quality to his writing. I’d recommend Mississippi Sissy without hesitation as a truly well-written memoir.

posted by Lisa at 10:36 am | Comments (0)

February 7, 2007

Review: Kockroach by Tyler Knox

I can get really jaded after reading so many review books. The big publishers send me a lot of first novels and thrillers, with the occasional yummy literary fiction from a more established author thrown in for good measure. They also send a little nonfiction and memoir, for seasoning. After reading and reviewing a few of these I usually find myself pretty desperate for something really good, and really original, but at the same time I hardly believe anything is good or original after reading so many predictable, mainstream, cookie-cutter books. That’s a sad statement on publishing these days, but I don’t think it will really shock anyone to know a lot of books are just plain tripe, not worth the time and effort spent on them, and not likely to be remembered a week after they’re published.

The shelf life on a new work of fiction is only about three or four months, for the average book. After that point everyone’s moved onto something else. Unsold copies of these “older” books go back to the publisher, to either be remaindered and sold at cut-rate (authors get no royalties for these remainder books) or to be shredded and recycled. Such is the life of your average work of fiction, at least if it doesn’t manage to make a name for itself really quickly. It’s no wonder so many writers are turning to self-publishing. You have to do your own marketing and publicity either way (unless you’re a household name), and at least with self-publishing you control the inventory. That’s something.

Enter Tyler Knox’s brand new book Kockroach. It was like a breath of fresh air after a long, stale winter. Kockroach is basically a twist on Kafka’s classic novel Metamorphosis, turning the premise of that book on its head. Instead of a man morphing into an insect, in Knox’s book an insect turns into a man, to his dismay and occasional disgust. But, as one of the most adaptable creatures on earth, the cockroach very quickly learns how to imitate humans in order to survive and even thrive among them. “Greed and fear, greed and fear” is a statement Knox repeats over and over as the two primary motivating factors in a cockroach. Whether it’s motivating for just the cockroach is a whole other issue.

Most people the cockroach meets assume he’s foreign-born, trying desperately to assimilate. Knox uses the situation of this bug/man to make comparisons with a foreigner in modern American society. He covers all the bases, including language barriers (the cockroach imitates the patterns, before he eventually learn what the words mean), to clothing, to the inability to find a job due to the fact he can’t fully understand these “foreign” humans, etc. Often the humans see the cockroach’s strange antics but they tune him out, thinking it’s not their problem, so why should they worry? This is a damning indictment of modern society.

The one person to treat the cockroach differently is a small-statured man name “Mite,” or Mickey Pimelia. Mite gives the cockroach his name, Jerry Blatta, a name created partly due to the strange noises the man/cockroach makes. Mite is very street-wise. He lost his parents at a young age, forcing him to survive by his own wits. He shares his wisdom with Jerry Blatta, taking him under his wing, teaching him how to work the system until eventually the student surpasses the master.

There’s also a love interest in the book,which sounds weird but it’s actually developed very naturally. It’s not the conventional sort of love interest, but it definitely works in the context of the book. The woman’s name is Celia, and with her Jerry comes about as close to being fully human as he’s really capable of being. They share an on-again, off-again relationship throughout the book, providing Knox with an opportunity to explore the universality of love. As with everything in this novel, this is extremely well done.

Knox makes a lot of fairly damning statements on modern American society through Kockroach, playfully using the strange contrast of the cockroach vs. the human as his structure. It’s skillful and impressive, never hitting you over the head with a MESSAGE, always staying just this side of preachy by use of his wonderful humor. The scientific detail in the book is also remarkable. Knox obviously did a lot of research on his subject. Everything from eating habits to social habits to even sex is detailed, sometimes a little more than you want, but that goes with the territory. I had to do a little looking away at times. I don’t always have a very strong stomach, but the detail is there for those who do.

This is an extremely rich and wonderful book. I’d give it my highest recommendation as one of the most original, impressive debuts I’ve read in a while. It’s smart, funny and edgy, exactly what a book must be these days if it’s going to stay out of the shredder. In the end, Knox throws in a bit of irony I very much appreciated. The cockroach eventually ends up in politics. How’s that for justice?

posted by Lisa at 8:33 am | Comments (0)

January 11, 2007

Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem

I finished Motherless Brooklyn last evening. Reading it slowly proved to be a futile effort. Once you’ve passed the midway point there’s no way to put on the brakes.

I can now officially report the book’s quality never wavers, start to finish. Any worry there’d be a sag at the 3/4 point (my complaint with a huge number of contemporary books) was completely unfounded, and in fact the 3/4 point was every bit as exciting as all the other quarters.

Lionel Essrog is one of the most inspired characters in contemporary fiction. I’ll go ahead and put that out there. His determination in the face of his challenges is inspirational, and even if it was completely impossible for me not to laugh at many of his outbursts, that didn’t diminish the respect I had for his character. Rather, it endeared him to me even more. Jonathan Lethem had me completely in the palm of his hand the whole way through, and Lionel is probably the biggest reason he was able to achieve that feat so easily.

Motherless Brooklyn reminded me, in some ways, of the Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. In both books a heavily challenged person is attempting to solve a mystery. I enjoyed both books, which probably says a lot about my love of characters who overcome physical/mental obstacles by sheer force of will in order to accomplish their goals. I enjoy these characters largely because their complexity ensures a surprise around every turn. As a reader, that keeps me on my toes and interested, and both Jonathan Lethem and Mark Haddon have the knack for creating just such a character.

So, that’s Book # 3 for me for the year, Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem. And I really have to give it a perfect 5 out of 5 stars rating. It’s early in the year to declare a perfect read, but there was absolutely no other option. I loved this book.

posted by Lisa at 12:18 pm | Comments (1)

November 1, 2006

Review: Kate Williams’s “England’s Mistress: The Infamous Life of Emma Hamilton”

England’s Mistress: The Infamous Life of Lady Emma Hamilton by Kate Williams

Not every historical biography is as compulsively readable as this. If they were a lot of school children would be much more happy.

Many biographies claim to be as compelling and fascinating to read as novels, but I can’t recall a single other biography I’ve read that’s lived up to that very big claim. Kate Williams manages to strike the perfect tone between the feel of fiction prose and an informative and engaging history lesson. She grabs the reader immediately, partly due to the fact her subject is, to put it mildly, an interesting figure. But it’s more than that. Williams writes in such an approachable style, and it’s probably what I’d consider the absolute perfect style for writing a historical biography. There are no places interest flags in this book, so perfectly has Williams paced the material. From start to finish it’s as gripping to read as the best literary novels, and it’s made all the more fascinating knowing every word of it is true.

As for Lady Emma Hamilton herself, what a woman! Whether you think her bold and courageous or a gold-digging tramp, you have to give the lady credit for having her wits about her. She reminds me of Daniel Defoe’s Moll Flanders, though Moll never hit the big time the way Emma did. Moll was crafty, it’s true, but lacking the stunning beauty and obvious and unflagging street smarts of Emma. As far as fictional characters go, though, I think Moll would be as near the mark as they come.

What an amazing cast of real-life historical characters pepper this book. Not really knowing much of the hard history behind Lady Emma’s life, I didn’t realize her relationship with Admiral Nelson beforehand. That very likely made me even more riveted to the book, but I can’t imagine any fiction being any more compelling than the truth of this woman’s life. What a lot of cheek, on the one hand, but what a brilliant use of her resources, too. And I DO mean all her resources…

Whether you end up loving or reviling the woman, it’s inarguable that she was hugely influential in 18th century society. How much she actually did help write history could be debated, but I’d personally be willing to bet her imprint was vastly influential. After all, the woman had the ear of so many of the elite, not to mention the heart of the national hero. Her moral scruples may not have been enviable, but her cunning is something if not to admire, at least to acknowledge as being very much out of the ordinary. However you feel about Lady Emma going into the book, by the time you’re done you’ll have had such a good history lesson, and an entertaining one at that, you’ll ultimately know how you stand on the issue. Kate Williams presents all the facts without prejudice, and with such a flair, there will be no lukewarm reaction.

I can’t imagine anyone who loves to read well-written historical prose, whether fiction or non-fiction, wouldn’t find something in this book. Whether your genre is fiction, biography or history this book fits the bill. It’s simply one of the most impressive, and satisfying, first efforts I’ve ever seen, and I can only hope Kate Williams is working on a follow-up book.

It’s been a while since I’ve been this smitten with a work of biography, and I came away with so much more knowledge on the 18th century, a topic I already thought I knew a bit about having spent a good deal of time reading the fiction of that period, and also a burning desire to read everything else that’s out there on the topic of Lady Emma Hamilton. However, whatever else I do wind up reading I know I’ll consider Williams’ work the benchmark by which I judge the sheer readability of the other works. The simple fact is, a book’s readability determines its appeal, and judged by this England’s Mistress is one of the absolute best works of biography I have ever read.

Well done, Kate Williams!

Author and Historian Kate Williams

Kate Williams’s website

posted by Lisa at 9:41 am | Comments (0)

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