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On Chesil Beach, by Ian McEwan, is the best book I’ve read in a while. It was beautiful and breathtaking and melancholy and almost perfect. (I include the “almost” because it didn’t do my laundry.)
The novella takes place in 1962 on Edward and Florence’s wedding night. While the foregoing sentence is technically true, it actually covers a great deal more than that because of the flash backs. Still, the pivotal moments occur because the virgins have some unspoken issues that they will be forced to deal with on this momentous night. Here is the first line:
They were young, educated, and both virgins on this, their wedding night, and they lived in a time when a conversation about sexual difficulties was plainly impossible.
The plot and character development were done so deftly that I was always in the moment and yet always looking forward to the next point. Perhaps what I liked most was that Edward and Florence were normal people. They had no excessive horrors in their lives or personalities. They were everyman and everywoman with their own set of issues and fears and strengths and weaknesses. This book was ultimately human.
The writing was simple and yet complex in its beauty. I particularly liked this passage:
She watched him coming along the strand, his form at first no more than an indigo stain against the darkening shingle, sometimes appearing motionless, flickering and dissolving at its outlines, and at others suddenly closer, as though moved like a chess piece a few squares toward her.
Ian McEwan was impressively adept at writing both the male and female perspectives realistically. There is no easy answer to the questions before the newlyweds, and McEwan shows how differently they both perceive the same situation. McEwan also portrays their young love very realistically. He describes the two lovers retelling their first meeting, which was “by now enriched by a private mythology.”
Okay, I could go on and on. Just read this book! One note of caution, this book does deal with sex. While I personally thought the subject was treated respectfully and realistically, not voyeuristically, this book may not be for everyone.
On Chesil Beach, by Ian McEwan (35) * * * * *
I think I’m going to be unpopular with this one, but it is what it is. Here we go. The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly is indisputedly about the loss of innocence, of leaving the cocoon of childhood and becoming an adult. I get it. I just didn’t get it. I thought it was too dark – unnecessarily dark. An example, only one of many, is the story I’ve already alluded to elsewhere in which Little Red Riding Hood had a bit of a different encounter with the wolf and created a new species of man-wolves: Loups. Also, I feel like the revisionist fairy tale thing has been done. While I appreciate that the author was using the loss of magic in stories to illustrate the loss of youth, fairy tales can still hold magic for adults. It felt like desecration rather than authorial manipulation.
Despite the above objectons, there were many things I liked in the book. Connolly’s descriptions are awesome. Here is one of my favorite examples:
“Roland took a stick and poked at the fire, sending sparks flying upward into the night. They fizzled out before they got very far, like insects that were already being consumed by the flams even as they struggled to escape them.”
I also liked the very very end. I didn’t like the ending though, the official one. I just liked the aftermath. The aftermath saved the book, in my opinion, making it worth the read.
The Book of Lost Things, by John Connolly: (55) * * *
For other reviews, see Dewey’s review over at The Hidden Side of a Leaf and the links at the end of the post.
How to Read Literature Like a Professor: In honor of Professor Foster’s impending new book, How to Read Novels Like a Professor, I’m doing a casual rereading of the original. What a lovely book. The Introduction captures, for me, the feeling of sitting in an actual college literature class.
The Book of Lost Things: I requested this book from my library on the recommendation of several bloggers. The beginning of it just breaks your heart. I’m now only about 100 pages in and the plot is quickly moving towards fantasy – what with the weird wolf/humans created by Little Red Riding Hood’s more illicit activities appearing on the scene. I’ll be posting a review of this pretty soon, I’m sure.
Bible: Still plugging away at Numbers. And, for those of you wondering, the numbering of the people ends around chapter ten. Now we are into a lot of whining and striking by lightening.
The New Yorker: I currently have the May 26, 2008 issue stashed in my purse. Not too much has grabbed my attention as yet. I’m halfway through a short story by John Updike called “The Full Glass.” The story didn’t quite capture my full attention. We’ll see if the ending can rescue it. I also skimmed through an article by Jeffrey Toobin on a McCain Court. I was a bit offended by its extreme liberal tone, so Mr. Toobin lost a little of his credibility (earned by most of The Nine) with me.
BOOK CLUB REPORT
Both of my book clubs met last week. First up was a small book club that consists of myself and two other women. We read The Alchemist. I think everyone liked it. Discussion centered more around the individual ramifications of the message, rather than the writing itself. I like the concept of a Personal Legend. The problem is that everyone’s Personal Legend is, well, personal.
Next up was my regular book club. I hosted. About five people attended. We read The Shell Seekers. Unfortunately, I read the book back in January and had loaned out my copy, so I couldn’t review. I wasn’t much help in the limited discussion that ensued. Though I wasn’t much help on specifics, this much I know: READ THE SHELL SEEKERS! Goose Girl, by Shannon Hale is up for June.
In The Gathering (winner of the Man Booker Prize for Fiction 2007), Anne Enright tells the story of a bitter and bruised family in bitter and bruised prose. I was sucked in for the ride – even though I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to go.
Veronica Hagerty narrates the story about her Irish Catholic family of twelve children. She is particularly concerned with a disturbing event that occurred one summer when she and two of her siblings, Liam and Kitty, are sent to live with their grandmother. Liam never quite recovers from the events of that summer and some thirty years later has killed himself. Veronica, whose life is picture perfect on the outside, is deeply troubled on the inside. The novel is a sort of journey (though not quite a linear one) through Veronica’s imbittered and coarse memories straight on to dealing with the now of Liam’s death, wake, and funeral.
Despite the subject matter, I found the writing enjoyable. No, more than enjoyable, compelling. Ravenous Reader summed it up: “depressing, but compulsively readable.” I loved the insight into the Irish Catholic world. I was most intrigued by the character of the mother who had born twelve children and miscarried seven and who was so detached from life that she couldn’t remember Veronica’s name. I felt, overall, that the difficult subject matter of abuse was handled realistically but respectfully. Also, the ending, I thought, was pulled off particularly well. (See, there, I commented on the ending without spoilers. Go team.) Anne Enright has a gift, and I will be picking up something on her backlist in the near future.
The Gathering, by Anne Enright: (55) * * * *
Since I haven’t finished a book in the last few days and I have an itching to post, I’m going to write about my recent reading activities.
Bible: I’m currently working my way ever so slowly through the Old Testament at the rate of one chapter per day. I recently made it to Numbers. So far there is a lot of counting and census taking. I’m pretty sure that’s where the name of the book came in. My only question is how the numbering is going to be sustained for the next thirty chapters. Stay tuned.
So Brave, Young, and Handsome: Leif Enger’s latest book has recently been relegated to the bottom of the TBR pile. Please don’t think that it has anything to do with the quality of the book. Instead, it has been relegated only because I purchased it and I have a pile of library books to get through before the weekend. With that as a preface, the first one hundred pages were compelling, if a bit slow. More on that soon.
The Gathering: One of the library books with a deadline, this book, which I have heard about in almost every possible medium, is amazingly readable. Though depressing and pretty crude, I am fascinated by Veronica and her Irish Catholic world. Veronica is probably the most disillusioned, cynical heroine I’ve ever read.
The 3 A.M. Epiphany: Ironically, this is the book I read most nights right before I turn out the light. I like to read one or two of the prompts and ruminate on them whilst I fall asleep. The prompts in this book are original and thought provoking. I’d recommend it for writers and for anyone who needs a good bedtime story.
An interesting reading journal guide can be found here.
Leif Enger, who maddeningly does not have a website, made an appearance at The King’s English in Salt Lake City last night. Before we proceed, I must disclose that I LOVE Peace Like a River. It’s due for a rereading (right after I finish So Brave, Young, and Handsome), so I’ll likely post a review of it then.
As you might have guessed, Leif Enger’s new book is So Brave, Young, and Handsome. I haven’t finished it yet, but the fifty or so pages I have read were quite delightful. Quite.
Anyway, we (me with my husband and brother, neither of whom had heard of Leif Enger prior to being dragged to the signing) appeared at The King’s English and were ushered by Betsy into a small alcove of books with about twenty chairs. While we were waiting for Leif (which, by the by, I have always pronounced, incorrectly, as “Leaf”), the husband and the brother skimmed through books by Mary Roach, whose titles include Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex, Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers, and Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife.
Leif arrived and after a somewhat awkward summary of the new book (which included at least five uses
of the word “implacable“) and introduction by Betsy, the reading began. We were a little disappointed once he started talking that, as a Minnesotan, his accent did not in the least resemble that of the cast of Fargo. However, Leif was very amicable and invited audience participation in a way that reminded me of my favorite college professor. He read aloud to us in an engaging manner, almost but not quite as if he were reading to children.
Then Leif invited us to engage in a discussion (an interesting and more inviting way of saying “let us now commence with the obligatory Q&A”). The crowd consisted of mainly fifty-somethings, most of them obviously associated with the English Department at the University of Utah. Trust me, they were. The Q&A proceeded with the audience members making obvious and uncomfortable references to their books, writing groups, and writing students. The most exciting moment came when, asked who his favorite author was, Leif responded that it was currently Tobias Wolff (who also lacks a website) and his book Old School. (Old School, along with Peace Like a River, currently has a place in my current top five favorite books of all time.) Leif took it all in stride and politely answered the interminable round of insipid questions. Afterward, we were all offered coffee and wine while we waited in line to have our books signed.
Having attended two other book signings in the last week, I am a seasoned signing linestander. First, I prepped the books for signing by marking the pages to be signed, and then I made the hard decision to ask Leif to just sign the books without inscribing them to me (increasing their sale value one hundred years from now). Unfortunately, Leif just asked me my name and proceeded to both inscribe and sign my books while we made uncomfortable small talk about the rankness of the Great Salt Lake. I also turned into gushing reader and mentioned that Peace Like a River is one of my top five favorite books of all time. Blah.
The reading was great fun, and, as I’ve mentioned before, I like supporting my favorite contemporary, and therefore living, writers. Here here.
I requested Comfort Food from my local library after Trish’s pseudo-review of it. (In fact, she blames her inability to review other books on CF’s readability.) I have, of course, seen The Friday Night Knitting Club sitting on the bestseller’s shelf of my local Borders for months. Trish though, made me want to read CF first. I did, even though it took me a while to get into it. In fact, I read The Host and Maps and Legends after starting CF. However, once I got into the rhythm of the thing, I couldn’t put it down. Literally. I stayed up WAY past my bedtime last night finishing it.
Gus, our hero, is a food TV star who has hosted a number of her own shows. As she approaches her fiftieth birthday, she is informed that the ratings are way down on her current show, Cooking with Gusto!, and that she is to be part of a new show with the former Miss Spain. Hilarity, of course, ensues. The story is lovingly weaved by the author. Though the ending is wrapped up tight with a bow, I could tell that Kate Jacobs loved her characters too much to end it any other way.
The writing was charming and, at times, hilarious. I liked the behind-the-scenes feel to the TV show. Most of all, I liked the friendly tone of the novel. (Despite my overall positive reaction to the book, I must mention one pet peeve–everyone is thin!! Even the former tennis star turned junk food addict. I hate that.) CF has no pretentions and will likely appeal to a large (female) audience. It’s definitely not high brow literary fiction, but I’m okay with that.
Comfort Food, by Kate Jacobs (75) * * *
I’m not quite sure how to go about reviewing this fable of a book. Let’s start with the basics:
Title: The Alchemist
Author: Paulo Coelho (translated by Alan R. Clarke)
Date Published: 1993
Pages: 167
Genre: Fiction?? (Borders has all of Coelho’s books shelved under “Metaphysical Studies”)
My Favorite Quotes
“Now I’m beginning what I could have started ten years ago. But I’m happy at least that I didn’t wait twenty years.”
“I’m afraid that if my dream is realized, I’ll have no reason to go on living.”
Character List (in order of appearance)
- The alchemist
- The boy
- The merchant’s daughter
- The Gypsy woman
- Melchizedek, the King of Salem
- Owner of the bar
- The young thief
- The candy seller
- The crystal merchant
- The Englishman
- The leader of the caravan
- The camel driver
- The Bedouins
- Fatima
- The guard
- The chieftains
- Three armed Arabs
- Band of rival tribesmen
- The monk
- The refugees from the tribal wars
Settings (in order of appearance)
- Andalusia (Spain)
- Tarifa (Spain)
- Tangier (Africa)
- Oasis (Africa)
- Desert camps of waring tribes (Africa)
- Coptic monastery (Africa)
- Pyramids (Africa)
- Andalusia (Spain)
Summaries
Prologue - The alchemist reads a story about the lake who weeps when Narcissus is killed.
Part I – Shepard boy has a dream about the pyramids for the second time. He goes to a Gypsy woman who interprets the dream in exchange for a tenth of his treasure if he gets it. At the Tarifa village, the boy meets Melchizedek, the King of Salem who helps him start on the path of his Personal Legend. In Tangier, Africa, the boy is robbed. He meets the crystal merchant. The boy decides to give up on his Personal Legend.
Part II – The boy works for the crystal merchant for a year, making the business very profitable. He leaves the crystal merchant, once against following his Personal Legend. He joins a desert caravan and meets an Englishman who teaches him about alchemy. When the caravan reaches an oasis, he meets his true love Fatima. He listens to the Soul of the World and is told about a coming attack on the oasis. He warns the chieftains and is made counselor of the oasis. He meets the alchemist and leaves the oasis with the alchemist to head for the pyramids. Along the way, the boy learns to listen to his heart. The boy performs a miracle and turns himself into the wind after conversing with the desert, wind, sun, and “the hand that wrote all.” The pair reach a Coptic monastery where the alchemist turns lead into gold. The boy is left alone and goes to the pyramids. He is robbed and beaten by some refugees, one of whom tells the boy of his dream about a treasure in Andalusia.
Epilogue - The boy goes to Andalusia (to the church where he started) and finds a great chest of treasure there. He then heads back to get Fatima.
The Bottom Line: This story is presented in parable/fable form. While there are many benefits to telling the story in the parable format, plot and especially character development are somewhat lacking. However, it is hard to ignore the simple prose and the powerful message contained in this little book. The story is very readable. It made me think about my own “Personal Legend” in the context of my own life and beliefs. I think the universality of this book is what has made it such a success. It is definitely worth the read.
The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho (75) * * *
Is “Fiction Friday” too trite? Probably. Good thing I didn’t pick it. Plus, if I set up too many weekly features, I’ll have to come up with something everyday.
I have had a book-ridden week. Sadly, that left little time for reading. On Wednesday night, I went out with two women from my church to discuss the intricacies contained in The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands. See my review here. Last night, I hosted my regular book club. The book was Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson. We had a very nice discussion over tea. It was a perfect beverage and book for a blustery day. Anyway, I was very pleased with the discussion. It made me realize that there is a lot of redeeming qualities to the book, even though some of the writing was atrocious. See my review here.
My reading horizon is now quite cluttered. I started reading Emma after the PBS Masterpiece Classics presentation on Sunday. Then I put Emma on pause to read The Uncommon Reader, a novella by Alan Bennett universally beloved among booklovers and bookbloggers. See blogs here and here and here. I will finish The Uncommon Reader today, hopefully on my lunch break. Then it’s probably back to Emma, unless I decide to hurriedly devour the next book club selection, The Whaleboat House (also known as Amagansett) by Mark Mills. I also checked out Cannery Row from the library, so I’m going to try and squeeze that in before I have to return it in two weeks.
I like having so much to look forward to.
In The Uncommon Reader, the Queen of England suddenly, and quite by accident, becomes a book addict. This has interesting consequences for both her personal and her public lives. I’ll do a full review this weekend after I finish the book, but I have been thinking a bit about the Queen’s reading methodology. She always reads with a notebook and pencil in hand, jotting down passages that catch her attention.
I haven’t ever really read while taking notes, unless it was a textbook and I was reading it for a class. I have thought for sometime now that it would be interesting to start a kind of book journal in which I record my contemporaneous reactions to books, jot down good (or bad) quotations, and thereby keep a log of my reading activities. This has also been a subject of interest on other blogs of late. See here and here and here. How do you people out there read and record?
I finished Divisadero last night. I was glad to be done with it. I don’t really know how to accurately express how I feel about the book. Individual segments of it were engaging and interesting and very poetic and lyrical. BUT I didn’t feel like the whole book worked together.
The first part of the book, as I’ve said before, revolved around the little eclectic family on a farm in northern California. After a violent episode, Anna runs away, and Coop, after he recovers, also runs away.
The next part of the book deals with the individual and damaged lives of Claire, Coop, and Anna. At the end of the second part, Claire is driving Coop, who has amnesia, to see the farmer/dad.
The third part of the book focuses on the life of the writer that Anna is researching and the people in his life.
I just don’t know how to make it all fit together. Overall, I’d give it three stars.
Divisadero, by Michael Ondaatje: (35) * * *
