Book Review: Her Fearful Symmetry

Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Audrey Niffenegger builds fantastical situations from a perfectly normal, realistic foundation. In Her Fearful Symmetry, twin sisters Julia and Valentina inherit their dead aunt Elspeth's estate, including a London flat (apartment) that overlooks High Gate Cemetery. Their aunt's will stipulates that they must live in the flat at least one year before selling it and that their parents (Elspeth's twin sister Edwina and her husband, Jack) aren't allowed to step foot inside. Nothing strange there.

Except Elspeth is haunting her flat.

From there, the story goes into Elspeth's attempted communications with the living, how the living respond, and learning about the building's other residents. It was a very delicate ghost story, I suppose, and I loved the way Niffenegger described Elspeth's world once she was caught between the living and dead. I also loved the other building tenents - Elspeth's boyfriend Robert, who develops a thing for Valentina, and Martin, an OCD crossword creator, and his radio-personality wife, Marijke.

What I didn't love were the attempts at mystery: Why were Edwina and Elspeth estranged? Why didn't Elspeth want the twins' parents in her flat? What was the big secret about Elspeth that Robert didn't know? And what did Robert mean when he told Valentina that Elspeth wasn't really a nice person when she was alive? Didn't he love her? But the answers didn't offer any real revelations or surprises.

As Valentina became more and more obsessed with Robert and talking with Elspeth, Julia became rather boring to me. I felt like Niffenegger was looking for something for Julia to do, so she decided to pick one of the strongest characters in the book for the girl to visit: Martin.

And I fell in love with the quirky man and his wife.

Martin and Marijke's relationship became way more interesting to me than what the twins or Elspeth's ghost were doing. Martin and Marijke, their incredible love, his impossible sickness, and her unimaginable strength. Now there's the story I want to read. So while Her Fearful Symmetry was beautifully written and introduced some interesting thoughts about the spirit world, I was disappointed in the end.




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Book Review: The Horse Whisperer

The Horse Whisperer by Nicholas Evans

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
(Originally read Sept. 6, 2004)

When my mother returned from the movie theater, raving about what a fabulous film The Horse Whisperer was and how she simply *must* read the book, all I could think was "Robert Redford... yuck!" It's not that Redford is a bad actor, rather that he appears in films that are too touchy-feely for my tastes. So for a long time I associated this book with the movie, assuming I would be no more interested in its story than I would a Redford film.

I was wrong.

This is perhaps one of the most beautiful books I've ever read. Nicholas Evans balances life's extremes perfectly in his less-than-perfect characters, and gives such vivid accounts of America's western frontier that it make me want to saddle up and ride to the other side of the Mississippi.

Young Grace Maclean and her steed, Pilgrim, are involved in an accident that leaves both horse and rider mentally and physically scarred. What follows is the gentle recovery of more than just those immediately involved in the accident -- Grace's parents, Annie and Robert, also undergo a healing process.

But Tom Booker, whose kind understanding of both horses and humans helps to mend the Maclean family's wounded relationships, finds himself in a difficult position. He and Annie are overcome by an undeniable attraction, and though their affair takes away from the healing focus of the story, I think it's appropriate for Evans to show that life goes on despite us and that new scraps and bruises are acquired, even as we lick our wounds.




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Book Review: The Paris Wife

The Paris Wife by Paula McLain

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


Ernest Hemingway was a brilliant shit.

I first encountered his works in college, and though they weren’t my cup of tea, I could appreciate their literary significance. But The Paris Wife is about Hemingway’s life before he became the world-renowned writer whose work is studied by students. It’s a fictional story that follows the true events of his life and tragic marriage to Elizabeth “Hadley” Richardson, Hem's first wife.

Told from Hadley’s perspective, the first part of the story is all about the couple — who they know, where they travel, what they do. I enjoyed Hadley as a narrator through these descriptions. She was steady and honest and so much more practical than the crowd she was running with. It’s perfectly boring, except for the colorful nicknames everyone has and a handful of interesting escapades.

But once they left Spain something happened. The situations Hadley and Ernest found themselves in were more volatile, more stressful, and yet our narrator was hardly emotional. She’d note her difference of opinion with Ernest and move on. No biggie. At first I couldn’t put my finger on this near ambivalence of hers, but once I figured out what was going on with Pauline, it genuinely pissed me off.

That Hadley didn’t cancel her vacation plans when she learned her friend was actively trying to steal her husband was outrageous. Her tolerance of Pauline’s intrusion was unthinkable, but the pseudo-friendship and delusional correspondence that continued was even worse. Hadley seemed to shrink into herself, and even after her accounts of the love triangles and destroyed relationships around her, she continued to tolerate Ernest and his other woman.

And Hem. Oh, Hem. The brief moments when he’s allowed to narrate were well-timed. Paula McLain must’ve known that he needed to defend himself, to speak up just a little and remind the reader that he was a troubled, sensitive soul, and that none of this was easy for him, either. But those brief jaunts into his perspective accomplished the opposite for me. What kind of delusional idiot was he? Was Pauline? Was Hadley for not sticking up for herself for crying out loud!

Hadley shows a little more emotion toward the end — she makes a few scenes, a few demands. She calls Pauline a whore, calls Hem a coward. But so was she. Finally she makes the only decision she can; she lets him go.

Throughout the chapters about life as a threesome, there were dark, serious mentions of suicide. If anything could make Ernest seem more sympathetic after what he puts his family and friends through, it would be reminding readers of his eventual suicide, right?

It also showed the main difference between Hemingway and Hadley. They both mention at various points in the story how alike they become, but when their thoughts turned to suicide, Hemingway was making plans, whereas Hadley was just playing with the idea. She determined quite quickly that she wanted to live. Even in the epilogue, her optimism shines through—she calls herself “the lucky girl.” The Paris wife who got to see Ernest at his best self: “an incomparable friend and a sonofabitch.”




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Book Review: Small Wonder

Small Wonder by Barbara Kingsolver

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This is actually a re-read for me, and though I liked it a lot then, I appreciate it more now. The first time around, I had difficulty with the first few essays - "Small Wonder," "Saying Grace," were very well written, but didn't speak to me nearly the way the others did. They each have a message, a lesson, an opinion that some have interpreted as preachy, pretentious; to me, they're proof that it's possible to live differently and happily, but that the later is the more important of the two.

The part that surprised me the most about this collection, though, was how moved I was by the essays about people and relationships, not just about nature and environmental policy.

"Lily's Chickens" makes me smile when I think about it, as does "Going to Japan."

"Letter to My Mother" is a powerful selection of mini-essays within the essay; things Kingsolver recalled or felt from her childhood and her relationship with her mother, the beautiful and the complicated.

"And Our Flag Was Still There" captures Kingsolver's thoughts about the post-September 11th world and her reaction to her fellow citizen's reactions. I know some read a lot of negativity in this section, but I heard at least as much hope as disappointment in this passage. One quote in particular sticks with me: "There are as many ways to love America as there are Americans, and our country needs us all."

As the mother of a one-day teenager, "Letter to a Daughter at 13" was one of my favorites. Kingsolver shares stories from both her teenage years as well as experiences with her teenage daughter, particularly where guys are concerned. Her observations are so simple and so true - from liking what your boyfriend likes because of this inexplicable feeling that it's the only way you'll be able to stay together (and what worse fate than to be single!) to recognizing that no matter how much we love our children, eventually we have to accept the fact that with any luck they will become grown ups, on their own.

That essay also contained my favorite quote: "When you, my dear, were about two and a half, I carefully and honestly answered all the questions you'd started asking about reproductive organs. For several months thereafter, every time we met someone new... you'd look up earnestly and ask, 'Do you have a penis or a vagina?' If you are ever tempted to think my presence is an embarrassment to you, please recall that I stood by you during the 'penis or vagina' months, July to September 1989."

Oh, Barbara - you slay and inspire me.





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Book Review: You Are a Lion! And Other Fun Yoga Poses

You Are a Lion! And Other Fun Yoga Poses by Taeeun Yoo

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The first time I attempted reading this with my daughter was right before bed. While the colorful illustrations and the familiar animals kept her interest, she didn't seem that into it.

So the next day, instead of saving it for a bedtime story, we read it before dinner and tried to follow along with the pictures. It was quite amusing watching my daughter's interpretations of the yoga poses, and she had a lot of fun making the animal noises if nothing else. Her favorite part is a tie between the dog (every time she looked at me upside down, she laughed so hard she'd fall over) and the mountain, which actually surprised me because it was the easiest of all poses and didn't have an animal noise for her to make.

So I'd highly recommend reading this at a time when your little one can interact and get silly while following along. You'll both enjoy it a lot more that way!




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Book Review: Boy and Bot

Boy and Bot by Ame Dyckman

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I picked this one up based on the colorful, clean illustrations alone - and it turned out to be a good selection, as my daughter found them just as captivating as I did!

The story is cute - a boy meets a robot in the woods and they have fun playing until the bot's power switch gets turned off. The boy believes the bot is sick and takes it home to make it feel better. But when the bot's power switch is turned back on, the boy is asleep. The bot mistakes this for a malfunction and takes the boy home to fix him. It's cute, clever symmetry that parents can appreciate (and two particularlly witty bits about oil and an instruction manual had me laughing out loud!) as well as children.

My 2-year-old didn't quite grasp the comedy, but she thoroughly enjoyed listening to the story and following along with the pictures.




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Book Review: American Gods

 American Gods by Neil Gaiman

My rating: 5 of 5 stars
(Originally read May 11, 2006)

The idea behind the story is simple enough: Gods exist because we — people — believe in them. When Europeans began migrating westward, they brought their gods with them to America; when Africans were transported to this continent, they brought their gods with them. So, for a long time, America didn't have its own gods, just borrowed deities from the old countries.

After years and generations past, however, the old gods were replaced. As people's faith in the gods of old faded, so did the gods themselves. Native-born Americans developed their own beliefs, which created shiny new gods — "new gods of credit card and freeway, of Internet and telephone, of radio and hospital and television, gods of plastic and of beeper and of neon."

For some reason, I assumed Gaiman would spend most of his time building up the new generation of gods, preparing them to take over where the old gods left off. After all, the old gods were Big Important Dudes in their home countries, but in America they were small potatoes.

It didn't take long to realize Gaiman'd fleshed out the old gods much better, though. He gave them more interesting backstories, made them stronger and smarter, more well-defined. But that fits. After all, the old gods had been around long enough to build up reputations and carve out their niche in mankind's faith market. They're used to each other, and the hierarchy of most powerful (Mr. Wednesday/Odin) to most pesky (Mad Sweeny/leprauchans) has been established for centuries. By comparison, the new gods seem juvenile and superficial. (Even the "leader" of the new gods — Mr. World/Loki — who seems the most experienced of these newly developed deities, turns out to be an old god.)

And then there's Shadow.

Our narrator is aptly named, no? Much like staring at your own shadow, the basic outline of the character is there, but the details — how far apart are his eyes set? Does he have any scars? Do dimples flash when he smiles? Does he smile? — are all missing. As the readers' tour guide, he is an objective reporter, stating exactly what happened, how it happened, and occasionally why. But how do these events make him feel? What are his own reactions to what, how, and why? He doesn't say. Shadow is definitely one of the most distant and private main characters I've ever come across.

But the other characters in the story were perfectly willing to talk. I learned a great deal by listening to them — including the gods in the side-chapters, who I found distracting until I realized the purpose they served (For Sandman fans: Did you catch the reference to Delirium? She's the confused girl with the dog in San Fransisco!) — and I was entertained quite a bit by their antics and what I took as the writer's own brand of humor (the Egyptian pantheon running a funeral home in Cairo, Ill. — brilliant!).

I actually finished reading this in February (I know, I'm a Slacker, with a capital "S") and just didn't have time to journal my thoughts then and there. Three months later, however, it's apparent that this book made *quite* the impression and is still making me think. That should speak volumes for Gaiman's work.



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Book Review: The Hunger Games

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I used to giggle at women who read young adult novels. When my own mother started reading titles like the Twilight series, all I could do was wonder what she was thinking.

I'm 30 now. I get it. You go to work, you come home and do chores, you take care of your husband/wife, your child(ren)/pet(s). Your life becomes pretty routine. With age comes responsibility, and that responsibility overshadows any of the passion or energy of youth. Until I became a middle aged woman, I didn't understand what they saw in young adult novels like The Hunger Games. Apparently, no matter your age, nothing beats a good love triangle.

But there is so much more to the book than Peeta (Katniss' fellow District 12 tribute) and Gale (Katniss' best friend), so I won't spend many words on them. This is one of the few recent YA novels I've read that doesn't come with the typical whiny, annoying female lead. Katniss Everdeen is fierce and competent and clever. And she's not the only strong female. There are quite a few bad-ass girls in this book, who can fend for themselves and compete in a coed arena - Glimmer and Clove, who have the advantage of coming from the favored Districts closest to the Capital, where it's an honor to train and volunteer to compete in the Games; nimble and elusive Fox Face is constantly outmaneuvering the rest of the tributes; and darling Rue, whose youth and appearance are misleading, as she's both sharp and resourceful.

This strength is bred by the bleak, post-apocalyptic world in which they live. The United States are no more - the oceans have risen, swallowing up portions of North America, and food has become scarce. This new country is called Panem. It is led by the Capital and contains 12 Districts (apparently a 13th, rebellious District was destroyed years ago), each of which offers up one girl and one boy between the ages of 12 and 18 to fight to the death in the annual Hunger Games. These Districts are without cell phones and computers, without distractions such as designer labels and beauty magazines. Each district serves a purpose, and everyone does what they need to do to get by and feed their families.

The Capital, by contrast, is a place of lavishness and overindulgence - a futuristic version of our present state, where everyone is concerned with what you're wearing and who you know. It's clear that Suzanne Collins has no use for these things, and when confronted by the pageantry of the Capital's citizenry, it's pretty obvious that Katniss doesn't either. Nor does Collins seem to be a proponent of the type of violence she inflicts on her characters. Even the strongest of these children are still children, and Collins has a masterful way of reminding readers - at just the right times in the book - that these children are fighting for their lives.

The story is fast-paced, action-packed, filled with interesting characters, and, yes, of course, includes the Peeta-Katniss-Gale love triangle. But I will leave that for others to describe and dissect - I just don't have it in me to compare it to the famed Twilight trio, Edward-Bella-Jacob.



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Book Review: Dear Zoo

Dear Zoo: A Lift-the-Flap Book by Rod Campbell

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


My 2-year-old daughter loves animals and flap-books, so it's really no surprise that she fell in love with this little board book.

The story is repetitive, which can be a little tedious for the reader, but it's also very easy for the listening non-reader to follow along and start "reading" on their own. It's been in my daughter's library for half a year now, but it's still the most requested book at bedtime. And more importantly, it's become her go-to book when she just wants to sit and "read" by herself for a while.




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Book Review: The Monster at the End of this Book

The Monster at the End of this Book by Jon Stone

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This is one of my husband's favorite books from childhood, so he had to pick up a copy for Peep's personal collection. I was never a big Grover fan. Not that I had anything against the blue fur ball, I was just more into the Fraggles than the Muppets when I was younger. But Emma loves the Sesame Street gang, and I'm always up for a new book, so I had no problem adding this one to our bedtime book list.

I laughed out loud. It was just so silly, so panic!!!!! ridden, and so - well - Grover, that I couldn't help myself.

Peep thinks it's hilarious, too. I've taken to reading it in a panicky, ridiculous sort of voice that garners additional giggles, and she's just starting to get into the fun, adding fake scared faces and dramatic "Oooh nooooos!" at select moments. It's just so much fun to read, and it's created such wonderfully silly moments in our house that I couldn't give it anything less than a perfect rating.




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Book Review: The Time Traveller's Wife

The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
(Originally read June 28, 2006)

Clare and Henry rank with Mr. and Mrs. Max DeWinter as my favorite couple of all time, and this is by far the best book I've read all year. The love between Clare and Henry is so real and so strong, and it somehow develops naturally, despite the strange time-travelling disorder that brings them together.

Audrey Niffenegger impressed me with her organization -- I can't imagine how she kept track of all the pasts, presents, and futures! (which makes me wonder how she wrote the story -- linearly or as it's presented in the book?) -- but where she really shines is in the language. She's funny, subtle, and it brings the characters to the forefront. The time traveling is such a foreign concept, so weird and different that it could easily overshadow everything else, becoming a distraction. But Niffenegger manages to make Henry's exits and entrances simple. The reader is aware these leaps are happening, but is so caught up in the relationships and interactions that the time travel almost takes a backseat.

My favorite passage was one of the shortest entries: Wednesday, July 12, 1995 (Clare is 24, Henry is 32), on page 103. So much was communicated in so few lines...

Overall, I cried much more than I laughed, but I didn't want the story to end. I'll be keeping an eye out for other novels by Niffenegger. Meanwhile, I'm going to hit the bookstore and get a hardcover copy -- this book is definitely a keeper.

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Book Review: And Then There Were None

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie

My rating: 5 of 5 stars
(Last read March 31, 2004)

In the book world, Agatha Christie is to mystery what Stephen King is to horror. It’s simply not possible to discuss good mystery stories without bringing her name into the conversation, and chances are some of her memorable characters, such as Hercule Poirot or Jane Marple, also would be mentioned. But And Then There Were None -- also published as Ten Little Indians -- was Christie’s masterpiece.

When I was in middle school, I bought a copy of And Then There Were None from a library fundraising drive. It was yellow, dog-eared, and some of the pages had come loose because most of the spine’s glue had lost its stickiness, but the words were still legible, and the book’s decrepit state certainly didn’t take anything away from the story’s genius. I read it three times in a row, cover to cover, determined to figure out who the murderer was, who had killed those people on Indian Island.

I had all kinds of theories, one I was absolutely certain of, but always thought Christie gave it the best ending by giving it no ending at all. Of course, the reason I never knew who the killer was is because my copy, with the deteriorating spine and loose pages, lacked the final chapter! So, nine years later, I read a different copy, whose pages are all accounted for and whose spine still has its integrity, only to learn that the theory I spent so many years refining, what I thought was as good as fact ... couldn’t be further from the truth.

She's a tricky one, that Agatha Christie!




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Book Review: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking Glass

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll

My rating: 5 of 5 stars
(Last read January 13, 2005)

Classics are classics for a reason. Lewis Carroll creates, on the surface, a child's fantasy land, populated with memorable creatures and characters -- each just as extraordinary and odd as the next. I wish my college professors had seen this story fit to dissect, for I'd love to delve into what I believe is Carroll's distaste for structure and authority, absolute contempt for conformity, and bleak opinion of humankind, especially where its imagination is concerned.

Alice's search for normality in an imaginary rabbit hole (or through a mirror) is no different than our own searches. We cling to things that appear familiar; because they are familiar, they must be safe. But we can only hold on to those things for so long, because sooner or later we find that things aren't really as they appear (babies turn into pigs, flowers can be painted red, and just because you're bigger than a house does not mean you're bigger than a dog). And until we deal with the reality, we're left to wander "wonderland" indefinitely -- playing games that don't make sense, being threatened by people with no real authority, and looking for things we'll never find.



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Book Review: Rebecca

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

My rating: 5 of 5 stars
(Last read December 4, 2003)

This is one of only two books my mother recommended to me in my youth that I actually enjoyed — so much that it’s become my favorite story.

Daphne du Maurier’s characters got my attention, and her beautiful imagery kept me rapt. And it’s not just that famous opening line, either; the ending is just as beautifully written, but receives much less attention. Her subtle hinting throughout the book is well done (especially in that last chapter), though you can’t really appreciate its significance until you’ve finished reading (all the more reason to start it over again!).

Our unnamed heroine, the second Mrs. de Winter, was always hard for me to like. I didn’t not like her, as was the case with Rebecca, but I’m shocked at just how shy and spineless this girl is. I’m sure I’m not the only person who’s fought off irrational bouts of paranoia or fantasy, but hers are so extreme! But I guess that’s typical of the character.

Our leading lady is the opposite of Rebecca in most respects — shy, quiet, scared — but I’ve often played out one particular scene, which is more temper-tantrum than timidity, in my head: I envision her throwing a Cindy Brady-like fit (“It’s always Rebecca, Rebecca, Rebecca!” she tells Frank Crawley) while walking up the drive to Manderley (something I certainly couldn’t imagine Rebecca doing). And, now that I know the BBC2 has made a movie of it, I’ll have to search the library and local video stores to see if Joanna David does as good a job at this scene as the actress in my imagination!



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Book Review: Tuesdays With Morrie

Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom

My rating: 5 of 5 stars
(Originally read May 9, 2004)

Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), commonly known as Lou Gehrig's disease, is one of the worst diseases I've ever read about. It's an illness that hijacks your neurological system and freezes your motor skills, leaving you motionless. Despite the deterioration of your body, however, your mind stays in tact, keeping you painfully aware of every movement you can't make.

But Morrie, Mitch Albom's beloved teacher and story subject, didn't let his fight with ALS get in the way of teaching one last class about life's greatest lesson: If you lead a fulfilling life, you've nothing to fear or lose in death.

Morrie makes some great points about life, death, and society, but the most poignant, I think is this: "Death ends a life, not a relationship." You are remembered by those whose lives you touched. Chasing fame or wealth isn't going to win you any friends. Morrie says to "Invest in people. Build a little community of those you love and who love you."

The way we treat death -- mourning a loss instead of celebrating a life -- is tragic. Tuesdays is a very honest chronicle of death, but despite that I was able to close this book with a smile on my face. Because Morrie continues to touch people's lives (like mine), even after his death.



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Book Review: On the Road

On the Road by Jack Kerouac

My rating: 5 of 5 stars
(Last revisited in August, 2004)

On the Road has shown me many sides of America that I’ve never seen. More to the point, however, it makes me want to see it for myself. The flustered, hurried, constant pace of Kerouac’s epic expresses even better than his words how “Beats” lived, lived, lived. The way this novel was written also adds to the can’t-stop-gotta-move-don’t-want-to-miss-anything itch — it was typed on 35 m of paper in a 21-day marathon — all at once, so Kerouac didn’t have time to forget details or leave things out.

My favorite line comes nearly 100 pages into the story, when Sal leaves Terry, his Spanish senorita. She gives him a kiss, then “We turned at a dozen paces, for love is a duel, and looked at each other for the last time.” It’s such a simple sentence, but it so perfectly, so eloquently describes one of the most complex human emotions.

The “scroll,” as the first draft of On the Road is often called, was bought (for $3.1 million) by Jim Irsay, owner of the Indianapolis Colts, but has spent a lot of time on display for the general public. Irsay has sent it back on the road from which it came. The 13-stop, four-year tour ended in 2007 at the New York public library, and I'm very sorry to report I wasn't there to see it.



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