Review of The Bookseller

The Bookseller by Cynthia Swanson
Publisher: HarperCollins
Publication Date: March 2015
Length: 352 pages
Source: TLC Book Tours

Synopsis from Publisher: A mesmerizingly powerful debut novel about the ways in which past choices can irrevocably define the present—and the bittersweet confrontation of what might have been.

1962: It may be the Swinging Sixties in New York, but in Denver it’s different: being a single gal over thirty in this city is almost bohemian. Still, thirty-eight-year-old Kitty Miller has come to terms with her unconventional single life. She was involved, once—with a doctor named Kevin—but when things didn’t work out the way she had hoped, she decided to chart her own path. Now she dedicates herself to the bookstore she runs with her best friend, Frieda, returning home each evening to her cozy apartment. Without a husband expecting dinner, she can enjoy last-minute drinks after work with her friends; without children who need to get ready for school, she can stay up all night reading with her beloved cat, Aslan, by her side.

Then the dreams begin.

1963: Katharyn Andersson is married to Lars, the love of her life. They live in a picture-perfect home in a suburban area of Denver, close to their circle of friends. It’s the ideal place in which to raise their children. Katharyn’s world is exactly what Kitty once believed she wanted . . . but it exists only when she sleeps.

At first, Kitty enjoys her nighttime forays into this alternate world. Even though there is no Frieda, no bookstore, no other familiar face, Kitty becomes increasingly reluctant to open her eyes and abandon Katharyn’s alluring life. But with each visit to her dreamworld, it grows more real. As the lines between the two worlds begin to blur, Kitty faces an uncertain future. What price must she pay to stay? What is the cost of letting go?

My Thoughts: In The Bookseller, a debut novel from Cynthia Swanson, a cat-owning spinster bookstore owner named Kitty Miller begins to have odd dreams that hint at an alternative life.

Kitty seems to have an enviable, although quiet, life in early 1960s Denver. She owns a small bookstore with her best friend. Though the bookstore is struggling and may need to relocate, Kitty seems satisfied with her life as a single and independent woman. Then she begins to have tantalizingly strange dreams . . . dreams in which she lives in an entirely different house, with an attractive and loving husband and adorable children. Everything in Kitty's dreams seems wonderful and trouble-free; do the dreams represent what Kitty's life might have been if she had pursued a different path? Soon Kitty finds herself seeking out the dream life, almost as a refuge from her real-life problems. But is the dream life as perfect as it appears? Which life is better . . . and which life is more real?

The Bookseller is an engaging, sometimes haunting read. I polished it off quickly, wanting to know what Kitty's strange dreams would ultimately reveal. Although I began to guess at the ending before the completion of the book, I still found the novel's resolution to be satisfying.

The "what if" scenario Swanson uses is interesting, although as other reviewers have pointed out, it has appeared in other novels, as well as movies, before. There is certainly a parallel to be found in the 1998 movie Sliding Doors. I was reminded, as well, of the novel The Post-Birthday World by Lionel Shriver, which presents two alternate outcomes for the life of the main character. Nevertheless, if The Bookseller's structure is not wholly original, I think most readers can relate to the question of how their life might have turned out differently if they had made other choices.

I'd offer a few other criticisms of The Bookseller. Although the novel hangs on Kitty and her growing realization of what is important in her life, I felt her character was underwritten and would have benefitted from further development. In addition, I could perhaps have used less detail about furniture and housing developments; there is not much historical context other than those sorts of details, which for me, didn't add much to the story.

Bottom line, The Bookseller is a quick and highly readable novel. Although I may not rank it as one of my favorite books of the year, it could prompt a great book club discussion about choices, the nature of reality, and how we perceive our own lives.

I received a complimentary copy of this novel from Harper Collins through TLC Book Tours. Thank you to TLC Book Tours for the opportunity to participate in the blog tour for this book. You can visit the other stops on the tour at the official tour site here.

About Cynthia Swanson: Cynthia Swanson is a writer and a designer of the midcentury modern style. She has published short fiction in 13th Moon, Kalliope, Sojourner, and other periodicals; her story in 13th Moon was a Pushcart Prize nominee. She lives in Denver, Colorado, with her husband and three children. The Bookseller is her first novel. Find out more about Cynthia at her website and connect with her on Facebook.

Some Thoughts on the Best Book I've Read So Far This Year . . . A Little Life

The best novel I've read so far in 2015 is--hands-down, no questions asked--Hanya Yanagihara's flawed but absolutely compelling, astonishing, challenging novel, A little Life.

This isn't so much a review as a reaction piece. Somehow, I don't really feel like I can offer a full review of the novel. For one thing, I don't want to inadvertently include any spoilers. In some ways, I feel as though readers are better off going into this novel without many pre-conceived notions about the characters or the plot. It's better to just experience it with a fresh, open mind.

For another thing . . . my God, I'm not even sure how to think about adequately reviewing it in a traditional sense. If you've read the novel, you may know what I mean.

So, here is what I posted on Goodreads about A Little Life just after finishing the novel last month: Whoa... This book will wring your heart out. You don't READ A Little Life so much as experience it on a primal level. The novel includes some disturbing, emotionally harrowing material, and in that sense, it can be difficult to read. So why is it racking up 5 star reviews from many literary fiction fans? I think because Yanagihara makes readers feel so deeply connected to the characters, so positively immersed in their lives ... she has a way of creating a bond between the reader and her fictional characters that is nothing short of astonishing. Therefore, add me to the growing collection of people singing the praises of A Little Life--even though I do think the novel has a few flaws. Ultimately, it's a truly thought-provoking book that raises questions about the nature of love and friendship, how people can overcome trauma, and how far any of us is prepared to go to help a friend or loved one experiencing pain.

Back to me in the present.... So yup, this is quite a powerful book. I devoured it--it's over 700 pages, but I flew through it in a couple of days. Yanagihara grabs ahold of you with her complex, rich characters and will NOT LET GO. I think I have a completely fresh definition now for a book that you "can't put down."

I do think there are a few things that aren't perfect here. To start, Yanagihara really hits Jude hard, over and over again ... It's relentless. Was it necessary for this character to experience so much pain and heartache? I think Yanagihara clearly exaggerates his pain for a reason--to force us think about the nature of physical and emotional trauma, about our responsibility for others, about the limits of love and friendship, etc. But .... is it too much?

Secondly .... women? Women characters are almost completely absent in this novel. I know--there's Julia, a social worker, a few female friends, but they are cardboard cut-outs compared to the men. I have to say I noticed this and wondered why. Interestingly, Yanagihara's previous novel, The People in the Trees, also lacks any deeply developed female characters. So, two novels, with only men as fully-realized characters . . . I'd love to know if that was a conscious decision on Yanagihara's part.

I think, in the end, everyone should just experience the novel for themselves. It's a powerful and thought-provoking book, and it would be fabulous for a book club. This is a book that cries out to be discussed over a few glasses of wine. I'll be eagerly anticipating the discussion on The Socratic Salon!

I received a complimentary copy of this novel from the publisher, Doubleday Books, through NetGalley, for review consideration.

What do you think . . . Have you read A Little Life? If not, do you plan to?

Review of A Reunion of Ghosts

A Reunion of Ghosts by Judith Claire Mitchell
Publisher: Harper Collins
Publication Date: March 24, 2015
Length: 400 pages
Source: Publisher, through TLC Book Tours

Synopsis from Publisher: Three wickedly funny sisters.

One family’s extraordinary legacy.

A single suicide note that spans a century …

Meet the Alter sisters: Lady, Vee, and Delph. These three mordantly witty, complex women share their family’s apartment on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. They love each other fiercely, but being an Alter isn’t easy. Bad luck is in their genes, passed down through the generations. Yet no matter what curves life throws at these siblings—and it’s hurled plenty—they always have a wisecrack, and one another.

In the waning days of 1999, the trio decides it’s time to close the circle of the Alter curse. But first, as the world counts down to the dawn of a new millennium, Lady, Vee, and Delph must write the final chapter of a saga lifetimes in the making—one that is inexorably intertwined with that of the twentieth century itself. Unspooling threads of history, personal memory, and family lore, they weave a mesmerizing account of their lives that stretches back decades to their great-grandfather, a brilliant scientist whose professional triumph became the sinister legacy that defines them.

Funny, heartbreaking, and utterly original, A Reunion of Ghosts is a magnificent novel about three unforgettable women bound to each other, and to their remarkable family, through the blessings and the burdens bestowed by blood.

“What if the man who invented chemical weapons was also a grandfather, and what if his great-grandchildren grew up to be three hilarious, introverted, deeply-haunted sisters? And what if those sisters co-wrote a fascinating, funny, and deeply sad 350-page suicide note? Then you’d have A Reunion of Ghosts. This is a triumphant, beautiful, and devastating novel about coincidences, family, and the sins of our fathers.” — Anthony Doerr, New York Times bestselling author of All The Light We Cannot See

My Thoughts: I thoroughly enjoyed Judith Claire Mitchell's intriguing and startlingly original novel A Reunion of Ghosts. Both literary and humorous, this was a novel I absolutely devoured; I truly did not want to put it down. Mitchell has crafted a story that entertains as well as prompts the reader ponder the nature of memory, family ties, sin, and mental illness.

Mitchell deftly alternates between the lives of Lady, Vee, and Delph Alter, a trio of sisters living in Manhattan, and the lives of their great-grandparents in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The witty and complicated Alter sisters struggle under the weight of a unique family history. Their great-grandfather, Jewish scientist Lenz Alter, invented chlorine gas... the very stuff which resulted in the development of chemical warfare in World War I and Zyklon B (the gas used in Nazi concentration camps to kill Jews and other prisoners). Talk about a troubling family legacy.

The terrible invention of Lenz Alter reverberates through the generations in the Alter family. Young Lady, Vee, and Delph are taught by their mother from an early age that "the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children to the 3rd and 4th generations." The Alter sisters believe that their family has been cursed, in a fashion, like the famous Kennedys. While this curse at times seems a bit overly fantastical (does anyone truly believe they must pay with their lives for the sins of their forefathers?), the saga of the Alter family provides a good means for contemplating the most dark and troubled parts of the history of the twentieth century.

Mitchell's well-written novel is emotionally engaging throughout, and filled with much more warmth and humor than you might expect in a novel about a family prone to suicide. I felt myself more deeply connected, at times, to the characters of Lenz and Iris Alter, as well as their friends Albert and Mileva Einstein, than to the modern-day Alter sisters. But overall, I found A Reunion of Ghosts to be a fascinating and worthwhile read. It would be a good choice for book groups; the mix of weighty themes and dark humor will please a range of readers and provide plenty of topics for discussion.

I received a complimentary copy of this novel from Harper Collins through TLC Book Tours. Thank you to TLC Book Tours for the opportunity to participate in the blog tour for this book. You can visit the other stops on the tour at the official tour site here.

About Judith Claire Mitchell: Judith Claire Mitchell, author of the novel The Last Day of the War, is an English professor at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, where she directs the MFA program in creative writing. A graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, Judy has received fellowships from the James A. Michener/Copernicus Society, the Wisconsin Institute for Creative Writing, the Wisconsin Arts Board, and elsewhere. She lives in Madison, Wisconsin, with her husband, the artist Don Friedlich.

Review of The Clever Mill Horse by Jodi Lew-Smith

The Clever Mill Horse by Jodi Lew-Smith
Publisher: Caspian Press
Publication Date: August 15, 2014
Length: 424 pages
Source: Historical Fiction Virtual Book Tours

Synopsis from the Publisher: A young woman’s gift could weave together the fabric of a nation . . .

1810, upstate New York. 21-year-old Ella Kenyon is happiest gliding through the thick woods around her small frontier town, knife in hand, her sharp eyes tracking game. A gift for engineering is in her blood, but she would gladly trade it for more time in the forest. If only her grandfather’s dying wish hadn’t trapped her into a fight she never wanted.

Six years ago, Ella’s grandfather made her vow to finish his life’s work: a flax-milling machine that has the potential to rescue her mother, brother, and sister from the brutality of life with her drunkard father. The copious linen it yields could save her struggling town, subjugate the growing grip of southern cotton. Or it could be Ella’s downfall. If she’s not quick enough, not clever enough to succeed, more than her own life rests in the balance . . .

My Thoughts: Jodi Lew-Smith's historical novel The Clever Mill Horse piqued my interest when I first read the synopsis. A young heroine who is equally comfortable throwing a knife and inventing machines? Well, ok, that got my attention. I love strong female characters, and a novel centered on a young woman's invention in the early nineteenth century sounded unusual enough for me to give it a try.

And I enjoyed the book overall. The Clever Mill Horse read, in my opinion, like a Young Adult novel, although it doesn't seem to have been marketed that way. But I think many teens and other YA readers would find it appealing, with its adventurous plot, hint of romance, and intelligent, headstrong, Katniss Everdeen-style heroine. I'm a former American history teacher, and I'm always on the lookout for books that can entice young readers into learning more about periods in the past which may seem . . well, a tad dry (gasp!) in the classroom.

The Clever Mill Horse, fortunately, is anything but dry. Lew-Smith packs a lot of plot into her story of Ella Kenyon's flax-milling machine: kidnapping, horse-theft, fire, blackmail, and a drunk and violent father, for starters. And that's not even including the forbidden love between a Native American man and white woman, a dark and long-suppressed secret about Ella's parentage, and the lesbian who can never share the truth about herself and her desires.

At times, all of that added up to perhaps a little too much action and adventure for me, when I might have wished for deeper character development or more about the flax machine itself and how it could have changed early American society. But YA readers who appreciate a plot-driven novel will find much here to keep them turning the pages and, I hope, might encourage them to read more about the early years of the new American republic.

I enjoyed participating in the blog tour for The Clever Mill Horse. You can check out the rest of the tour stops here. In particular, you may enjoy an interesting guest post Lew-Smith wrote on Just One More Chapter about why Americans stopped using flax for linen. I received a complimentary copy of this book from Historical Fiction Virtual Book Tours.

About the Author: Jodi Lew-Smith lives on a farm in northern Vermont with her patient husband, three wonderfully impatient children, a bevy of pets and farm animals, and 250 exceedingly patient apple trees which, if they could talk, would suggest that she stop writing and start pruning. Luckily they’re pretty quiet.

With a doctorate in plant genetics, she also lives a double life as a vegetable breeder at High Mowing Seeds. She is grateful for the chance to do so many things in one lifetime, and only wishes she could do them all better. Maybe in the next life she’ll be able to make up her mind.

For more about Jodi and about the lives and world of the characters in the novel, visit her website or blog. You can also connect with her on Facebook and Goodreads.

Review of Reunion by Hannah Pittard

Reunion: A Novel by Hannah Pittard
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Publication Date: October 7, 2014
Length: 288 pages
Source: Publisher, through NetGalley

From the Publisher's Synopsis: Heartbreak and hilarity come together in this story of a far-flung family reunited for one weekend by their father's death, by the author of the highly acclaimed The Fates Will Find Their Way.

Five minutes before her flight is set to take off, Kate Pulaski, failed screenwriter and newly-failed wife, learns that her estranged father killed himself. More shocked than saddened by the news, she reluctantly gives in to her older siblings' request that she join them--and her many half-siblings, and most of her father's five former wives--in Atlanta, their birthplace, for a final farewell.

Written with huge heart and bracing wit, Reunion takes place over the following four days, as family secrets are revealed, personal deceits are uncovered, and Kate--an inveterate liar looking for a way to come clean--slowly begins to acknowledge the overwhelming similarities between herself and the man she never thought she'd claim as an influence, much less a father.

My Thoughts: Hannah Pittard's second novel, Reunion, is a quick read and a pleasant book. It centers on the reunion of a dysfunctional family, from the perspective of a troubled thirty-something woman whose life is starting to fall apart. Complicated family dynamics are always a good bet as a topic in fiction. There is such drama present in all of the tangled aspects of how we grow up, and then, in many cases, how we grow apart from those we love. A good novel about a dysfunctional family allows a writer to probe deeply into the characters' inner lives, emotions, secrets and relationships.

And Reunion does delve into the inner lives, emotions, secrets, and relationships of Kate Pulaski and her siblings .. . but never, I thought, quite enough.

While I enjoyed reading the book, I often felt like there was something essential missing from the story. Pittard doesn't fully explore the elements of what makes this family complicated and dysfunctional. I wanted more backstory on the Pulaski siblings' childhoods. Given the centrality of theme (the return to the hometown, confronting the ghosts of the past, etc) Pittard offers very few details on what Kate's childhood was actually like, and how it affects her in the present. Why did Kate think her father was such a terrible parent? Her father is a mysterious and unknowable presence in the book, and therefore I couldn't connect with Kate's strong emotions about him. Without understanding Kate's relationship to her father, it was hard to comprehend or care about Kate's epiphany that she is more like her father than she had realized.

I felt the same about Kate's relationships with her siblings Elliot and Nell. Pittard tells us they have a very strong bond, and this seems to be a key element to the story, but she doesn't provide a very deep or nuanced portrayal of their relationships. I wanted to know more, and felt frustrated with the surface-level characters of Kate's siblings. They seemed flat to me. I never felt Pittard provided enough to immerse myself in the family's dynamics or feel emotionally connected to the characters.

Pittard, however, does a good job with the character of Kate, a woman who is facing the breakup of her marriage and her own responsibility for it, and struggling to find a way through her own years of deception. Kate is a complex and often unlikeable character, and yet Pittard makes the reader feel empathy toward her, and hope that she will find the path to a better future.

It's interesting that Kate is a screenwriter; as I read this book, I wondered several times if the story might have worked better as a movie than as a novel.

Pittard's prose style is fluid and readable, and sometimes absolutely beautiful. I do think Pittard is a talented young writer to watch; I will certainly be willing to read her next novel. Many other bloggers and book lovers have had a more positive reaction to Reunion, so don't take my opinion as the final word.

My Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

I received a complimentary copy of this novel for review consideration from Grand Central Publishing, through NetGalley.

Review of The Underground Girls of Kabul by Jenny Nordberg

The Underground Girls of Kabul: In Search of a Hidden Resistance In Afghanistan by Jenny Nordberg
Publisher: Crown
Publication Date: September 14, 2014
Length: 368 pages
Source: My own copy

From the Publisher's Synopsis: An investigative journalist uncovers a hidden custom that will transform your understanding of what it means to grow up as a girl.

In Afghanistan, a culture ruled almost entirely by men, the birth of a son is cause for celebration and the arrival of a daughter is often mourned as misfortune. A bacha posh (literally translated from Dari as "dressed up like a boy") is a third kind of child--a girl temporarily raised as a boy and presented as such to the outside world. Jenny Nordberg, the reporter who broke the story of this phenomenon for the New York Times, constructs a powerful and moving account of those secretly living on the other side of a deeply segregated society where women have almost no rights and little freedom.

My Thoughts: Swedish investigative journalist Jenny Nordberg's book The Underground Girls of Kabul is magnificent. Have I used that word in a review this year? I don't think so, but trust me, it applies. I'm somewhat embarrassed to sound so gushing here, but I can't help myself. What I really want to say in this post is, "Read this book--it kicks ass!" But, uh . . . let's see if I can come up with something a little more cogent and well-considered to persuade you to read the book.

The Underground Girls of Kabul is revealing, complex, and utterly fascinating through-out. Nordberg conducted many interviews with women who have dressed as boys--and some who still present themselves as men even as adults--and these stories are enormously compelling. Nordberg's research into Afghan history and culture is impressive and extensive, and Nordberg presents her findings in a direct, readable way. Nordberg's absorbing book sheds new light on what it is like to be female in Afghanistan, a country that has been called the worst place in the world to be born a girl.

I was completely enthralled by the story of Azita, the central character in Nordberg's book. When Nordberg meets her, Azita is a member of the Afghan Parliament, representing a rural district--an impressive feat for a woman in male-dominated Afghanistan. Azita herself had been fortunate enough to receive an education as a girl, although her father married her off to an illiterate farmer at the age of nineteen. She and her husband have four children, all girls; this is a problem for Azita both personally and politically. In Afghan culture, the lack of sons indicates a lack of strength, and is seen as a serious failure on the part of the mother.

Azita decides to transform her youngest daughter into a bacha posh; the girl born as Mahnoush is now presented as a boy named Mehran. Mehran can now play outside and experience other freedoms unavailable to his sisters; he receives favored status inside his own family, even though everyone knows he is really a girl . . . and will be expected to live as a girl once again by the onset of puberty. Azita has many reasons to transform her daughter into a temporary boy, including her own complicated personal history, and Nordberg made me care deeply about this woman and her family.

In addition to Azita and her family, Nordberg presents other case studies of bacha posh, including Zahra, who at age 16 has no interest in transforming herself back into a girl and losing the freedoms she has discovered while living as a boy, and Nader, a woman in her thirties who managed to avoid marriage and still lives as a man. Nordberg uses these women's stories as the basis for a nuanced exploration of the meaning of gender, the oppression of women, and life in contemporary Afghanistan more than a decade after the defeat of the Taliban.

I highly recommend The Underground Girls of Kabul to all readers interested in gender, women's rights, Afghanistan, and life and culture in other countries.

Ok, why don't I just end with what I wanted to say in the first place? Read this book--it kicks ass!

My Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

Review of The Lost Book of Mormon by Avi Steinberg

The Lost Book of Mormon: A Journey Through the Mythic Lands of Nephi, Zarahemla, & Kansas City, Missouri by Avi Steinberg
Publisher: Nan A. Talese
Publication Date: October 21, 2014
Length: 288 pages
Source: Publisher, through NetGalley

Avi Steinberg’s The Lost Book of Mormon is a tough book to characterize, a hybrid of memoir, travelogue, literary and cultural criticism, and humor. Steinberg, a non-Mormon, sets out on a journey, both literal and figurative, to explore some of the landscapes important in the Book of Mormon. Along the way, he considers the meaning of scripture as a kind of uber-fiction, and makes a case for treating the Book of Mormon as an important work of 19th century American literature. Steinberg’s book is thought-provoking, interesting, and even hilarious in parts, but contains perhaps a few too many distracting tangents.

The Story: In 1823, Joseph Smith, the son of a backwoods farmer, swore that a visiting angel told him to dig in a hill near his family’s farm in upstate New York. Smith dug, and allegedly found the hidden history of America engraved on a series of gold plates. Smith “translated” these gold plates from an ancient hieroglyphic language into English, and published this as the Book of Mormon in 1830. The book became instantly popular with an American public deeply fascinated by both Indian lore and treasure-hunting.

Steinberg, who grew up in both Israel and Cleveland, Ohio, describes himself as a lapsed Orthodox Jew and professes to a fascination with religious texts in general, and the Book of Mormon in particular. In The Lost Book of Mormon, Steinberg travels the path of the characters in Joseph’s Smith’s text, from Jerusalem to the ruined Mayan cities in Guatemala and southern Mexico, and Hill Cumorah in upstate New York.

At every location along his journey, Steinberg offers an analysis of Smith not as a religious prophet but as a writer, a “regular Joe” as Steinberg calls him, who wrote a story and then had the tremendous audacity to publish it not just as a work of fiction or nonfiction, but as a bible. To Steinberg, Smith should be considered as one of 19th century America’s literary giants along with Melville, Hawthorne, and Twain. His Book of Mormon, Steinberg argues, is a quintessential American literary epic with a picaresque hero, Nephi, who predates Melville’s Ishmael and Twain’s Huck Finn; perhaps it’s even the Great American Novel. And yet few literary and cultural critics have given serious consideration to Smith’s work.

My Thoughts: I confess to a strong fascination with Mormonism as a cultural phenomenon, although I’m not a Mormon myself. It’s hard not to be fascinated with a religion less than 200 years old, whose origins seem like something out of a science fiction tale. Therefore, I jumped at the chance to read a copy of this book for Nonfiction November.

And I did find The Lost Book of Mormon truly interesting. Steinberg writes movingly of his interest in Smith as a writer and of the process of writing itself, that amazing act of creation that brings to life the stories that become so important to us. Steinberg can be enormously funny, as well. The middle of the book is a long set piece about a bus tour of Mayan archeological sites, with Steinberg as the only non-believer among two large clans of Mormons; it had me laughing out loud and quoting lines to my somewhat bemused family.

The book, however, is a tad heavy on personal anecdotes. Steinberg deviates frequently into lengthy, sometimes meandering digressions that don’t add much to his argument about Smith’s place in American literature. The book is, sometimes, a bit of a glorious mess. Maybe it’s best to go into The Lost Book of Mormon without expecting too much of it as a work of literary or cultural criticism . . . Just let Steinberg take you on a strange and amusing journey, and enjoy the ride.

In the end, Steinberg is not very interested in whether the stories in the Book of Mormon—and by extension, ALL stories--are literally “true” or not. Instead, he’s concerned with what those stories tell us about ourselves, and how the tellers of those tales find their inspiration and bring the stories to life. “The world is full of buried books,” Steinberg tells us, and writers, like Joseph Smith with his gold plates, must unearth them and tell the tales for their readers. “They’re there. That’s no bullshit. Other people don’t need to believe in that, but if you want to be a writer, you do. You must have faith. The gold plates are real: every book is a translation of them.” As readers, let's hope that writers keep finding those gold plates of inspiration and telling us their wonderful tales.

My Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars.

I received a complimentary copy of this book for review consideration from the publisher, Nan A. Talese, through NetGalley.

Review of Certainty by Victor Bevine

Certainty by Victor Bevine
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Publication Date: October 21, 2014
Length: 358 pages
Source: Publisher, through TLC Book Tours

Synopsis from Publisher: When you’re fighting an injustice, can it be wrong to do what’s right? Inspired by the scandalous true story that shocked a nation at the close of WWI.

With America’s entry into World War I, the population of Newport, Rhode Island seems to double overnight as twenty-five thousand rowdy recruits descend on the Naval Training Station. Drinking, prostitution, and other depravities follow the sailors, transforming the upscale town into what many residents—including young lawyer William Bartlett, whose genteel family has lived in Newport for generations—consider to be a moral cesspool.

When sailors accuse a beloved local clergyman of sexual impropriety, William feels compelled to fight back. He agrees to defend the minister against the shocking allegations, in the face of dire personal and professional consequences. But when the trial grows increasingly sensational, and when outrageous revelations echo all the way from Newport to the federal government, William must confront more than just the truth—he must confront the very nature of good and evil. Based on real-life events, Certainty recalls a war-torn era when the line between right and wrong became dangerously blurred.

My Thoughts: In Victor Bevine’s novel Certainty, a civilian minister and a group of sailors are accused of sodomy by a special unit of Naval Intelligence in Newport, Rhode Island just after the end of World War I. The homophobia of that time comes as no great surprise, of course. What makes this book interesting is Bevine’s exploration of why these events occurred and how they played out in court in what came to be known as the Newport Navy Vice Scandal.

While I thought the case itself was fascinating, Certainty didn’t completely succeed for me as a novel. Many of the characters felt flat and undeveloped to me. Bevine portrayed the minister, Rev. Kent, as a man too good to be true; I would have found him to be a much more interesting character if he had a few believable flaws. William Bartlett, the young lawyer defending Rev. Kent, did not come alive for me as a character, either. The motivations of Chief Petty Officer Arnold, the homophobic leader of the unit pursuing the “fairies” (to use the term popular at the time), are murky, so he comes across as nothing more than a cardboard villain.

The most complex character in the novel is Charlie, one of the sailors who testifies in court against Rev. Kent. Bevine presents him as a young man on the make, an opportunist who always puts himself first, in his career in the Navy and in his relationship with Dottie, a local prostitute. Only Charlie really comes off the page as a fully developed, multi-dimensional character. I would have loved to read more about Charlie; to me, the sections of Certainty that focus on Charlie are the strongest and most nuanced parts of the novel.

Bevine indicates in his Author’s Note at the end of this novel that he first wrote about the Newport Navy Vice Scandal as a screenplay. I don’t know if there are plans in the works to produce Bevine's screenplay, but I think Certainty would work much better as a movie or TV mini-series than as a novel. As I read the book, I kept thinking to myself that I could see each chapter enfolding as a scene in a movie; the narrative structure really felt more like a screenplay than a novel. I would love to see a well-produced movie based on the events detailed in Certainty.

I would rate Certainty a 3 out of 5 stars. Despite my criticisms of the novel, I do think the topic is interesting and worthwhile, and many readers would enjoy the story.

I received a complimentary copy of this novel from Lake Union Publishing through TLC Book Tours. Thank you to TLC Book Tours for the opportunity to participate in the blog tour for this book. You can visit the other stops on the Certainty tour at the official tour site here.

About Victor Bevine: For over thirty years, Victor Bevine has worked as an actor, screenwriter, audio book narrator, director, and more. A graduate of Yale University, his acting credits include many prestigious roles onstage as well as roles in the film version of A Separate Peace and countless television shows. He has read over one hundred and eighty titles as an audiobook narrator; in 2010, he received an Audiophone Award for his narration of the Pulitzer Prize–winning book The Beak of the Finch. He has written several screenplays, including Certainty, which was chosen for two prestigious writers’ conferences and which served as the basis for his first novel. His thirty-minute short film Desert Cross, which he wrote and directed, won accolades at the Athens International Film Festival. Currently, he serves as CEO of the World Freerunning Parkour Federation (WFPF), of which he is co-founder. He resides in New York City.

Review of Without You, There Is No Us by Suki Kim

Without You, There is No Us by Suki Kim
Publisher: Crown Publishers
Publication Date: October 14, 2014
Length: 285 pages
Source: My own copy

Without You, There Is No Us is journalist/novelist Suki Kim’s interesting memoir about the year she spent teaching at a college in North Korea. North Korea, of course, is one of the most closed societies of modern times, and Kim’s book sheds light on the strangeness of that world under dictator Kim Jong-il. Without You . . . is a fascinating and intensely personal account of life in an intimidating and repressive regime.

Kim, who was born in South Korea but moved to the US as a young teen, posed as a Christian missionary in order to get a job teaching at the all-male Pyongyang University of Science and Technology (PUST). During most of the year 2011, Kim taught English to the privileged sons of the North Korean upper class—young men likely to become the future leaders of the country.

As a teacher at PUST, Kim had the deeply disorienting experience of giving up her own personal freedoms. She was kept a virtual prisoner on the university grounds, with her movement on and off campus tightly controlled, for example. Kim had to provide each lesson plan for review, and felt under constant surveillance by the “minders” provided by the regime. At the same time, Kim kept up the charade that she was an evangelical Christian, because PUST is funded, in large part, by Korean-American Christian churches. Kim operated, in a sense, like a spy, secretly taking notes for this book and hoping that no one—either the North Koreans or the missionaries at PUST—would unmask her true identity as a journalist.

Kim found her young North Korean students to be bright and enthusiastic, and yet oddly uninterested in learning about life outside of their own country. The students had been brainwashed all of their young lives into believing that North Korea was the best and most powerful nation in the world. At a university for science and technology, these students were unaware of the Internet—and Kim, frustratingly, was not allowed to tell them. It is sobering, indeed, to think of these young men as the future of North Korea. They seem quite unlikely to question the regime or stage protests for democracy, as young people have done in other regions of the world.

Kim’s book will no doubt anger the regime of Kim Jong Un, the son of Kim Jong-il and the current leader of North Korea, as well as the leadership of PUST. Kim changed the names of PUST staff and students so that they would not suffer reprisals from the regime. She notes that, although her book will cause waves in North Korea, she felt obligated “to tell the stark truth” about what she witnessed, “in the hopes that the lives of average North Koreans, including my beloved students, will one day improve.”

I thoroughly enjoyed reading Without You, There Is No Us. As a reader very interested in the topic, I would have appreciated a bit more background on PUST itself and its funders, as well as, perhaps, a chapter at the end of the book with Kim’s thoughts on the new leader of the North Korea, Kim Jong Un. Nevertheless, this is an unsettling and powerful account of life in a frightening and restrictive world, and I do recommend it to anyone interested in learning more about North Korea.

Review of Stone Mattress by Margaret Atwood

Stone Mattress: Nine Tales by Margaret Atwood
Publisher: Nan A. Talese/Doubleday
Publication Date: September 16, 2014
Length: 268 pages
Source: Library

Margaret Atwood’s new collection of short stories is sharp, imaginative, juicy, and strange—quintessential Atwood, in other words! The nine tales of Stone Mattress all deal, in some way, with the theme of growing older, but Atwood also considers relationships, marriage, identity and art. Atwood is both darkly humorous and deadly serious in these stories. For Atwood fans, this collection is an absolute must-read. And for those who have never read Atwood before (and, oh my goodness, why is that?), her latest short fiction may provide the perfect entry to her work.

The Stories: Every one of these nine stories is well worth the read, but I will just highlight a few of my favorites. In the title story, “Stone Mattress,” Verna, while on a cruise of the Arctic, meets up with a man who had humiliated her high school five decades ago. She plots her revenge in the icy landscape of 1.9 billion-year-old stromatolites. In the strange and highly affecting “Lusus Naturae,” a girl born with genetic abnormalities is believed by her family and village to be a vampire. Atwood revisits the memorable characters from her 1993 novel The Robber Bride (one of my favorite Atwood novels) in the story “I Dream of Zenia with the Bright Red Teeth;” Atwood brings Tony, Roz, Charis, and even Zenia (!) back to life perfectly, and creates a highly satisfying epilogue to the original story. In the powerful final story, “Torching the Dusties,” Atwood follows an older man and woman trapped inside a retirement community while a violent, anti-elderly protest rages outside the gates.

My Thoughts: I don’t read short fiction very often. Like many readers who love novels, I sometimes find short stories overly abrupt. I fear getting emotionally involved with characters and then having my ties to them cut too quickly. But lately I’m finding that short fiction can be a welcome alternative to a novel. I read this collection just after Dewey’s 24-Hour-Readathon, and I only tackled one or two stories per night. It proved to be the perfect way to ease myself back into books after the post-readathon reading hangover. Short stories, I’m learning, can also help you sneak in a little fiction reading at times when you feel too stressed or busy to commit to a novel.

In any case, I loved this collection—maybe because I’m developing more of an appreciation for short fiction, or perhaps I was just so darn happy to read something new from Atwood. To me, these stories represent a return to the vintage Atwood of the 1990s, the era of Alias Grace and The Robber Bride—meaning a return to fiction that is psychologically insightful and emotionally gripping, but not overly fantastical. I highly recommend Stone Mattress for readers of literary fiction.

Review of The Book of Strange New Things by Michel Faber

The Book of Strange New Things by Michel Faber
Publisher: Hogarth
Publication Date: October 28, 2014
Length: 512 pages
Source: Publisher, through NetGalley

Michel Faber’s The Book of Strange New Things is an unusual and disquieting novel about love, faith, alienation, and the nature of humanity. Faber’s book, a genre-bending mash-up of literary and science fiction, is full of “strange new things,” indeed. Strange, perhaps, sometimes even outlandish, but always oddly enthralling, this original and thought-provoking novel is one I will not soon forget.

The Story: Faber begins his story as Peter, a minister, prepares to leave his home and his beloved wife Bea and embark upon a mission. Like countless missionaries before him, Peter hopes to convert the natives in a strange land to Christianity. But unlike all the missionaries who have gone before him, Peter’s destination is another planet. A rather shadowy global corporation known as USIC has recruited Peter to travel to their colony on the planet Oasis and to minister to the aliens who live there. As Peter struggles to adjust to life on Oasis and to bring the word of God to the native Oasans, he begins to receive troubling messages from Bea back on Earth.

My Thoughts: I have to admit I that I’ve procrastinated something fierce on writing this review, because I felt like I was still grappling with the issues raised by The Book of Strange New Things a few weeks after completing it. In all honesty, I think I am STILL processing it. This novel is full of big ideas, and possibly it would take me another read to sort all of them out.

For some readers, the meaning of religious faith—and how much a person’s faith can truly be tested before they lose it--may be the most important theme in the novel. But to me, Faber’s exploration of love, emotional distance, and alienation are what really hit home. As Peter gets increasingly involved with the strange alien creatures on Oasis, he begins to adapt their ways of talking, living and thinking . . . and becomes increasingly emotionally distant from his wife Bea on Earth. This growing alienation between the couple, at first so united in their missionary zeal and support for the project, seemed to me a perfect representation of the alienation that any couple can experience over time. At the end of the book, the reader roots for Peter and Bea to overcome the forces pulling them apart, and somehow find their way back together--both physically and emotionally--again.

On the press tour for The Book of Strange New Things over the past few days, Faber has indicated that he does not intend to write another novel. While completing this book, Faber’s wife Eva died of cancer, and he has said, “I wanted this to be the saddest thing I’d ever written.” Knowing about Faber’s loss adds another layer to my interpretation of the novel; it is clear that the grief of loved ones forced apart is a key theme to the book.

I have a few minor quibbles that keep me from rating The Book of Strange New Things as a 5 star book. I felt like some of my questions about the USIC and the purpose of the Oasis colony were never fully answered, and the novel, while mostly absorbing, is a touch long and became plodding in a few sections. I would rate the book a 4 out of 5 stars.

But overall, the novel is a fascinating read that I think will please fans of both literary and science fiction, and leave many readers (including myself) hoping that Faber will, indeed, write another novel—perhaps even a sequel. In the meantime, it is quite clear to me that I need to read Faber’s much acclaimed novel about a Victorian prostitute, The Crimson Petal and the White.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher, Hogarth, for review consideration, through NetGalley.

Review of 2014 Kirkus Prizewinner Euphoria by Lily King

Last night the first winners of the Kirkus Prizes were announced. This is a brand new set of prizes in the literary world, with one of the richest awards--$50,000 each for the winners of the fiction, nonfiction, and young readers' literature categories.

And the very first winner of the Kirkus Prize for Fiction is Euphoria by Lily King, a wonderful novel that I read and loved over the summer. This intelligent and satisfying novel, published on June 3, 2014, by Atlantic Monthly Press, is loosely based on a real-life love triangle of anthropologists studying tribes in Papua New Guinea in the 1930s. I am so glad this book was recognized with a major new literary award; I feel like it flew a bit under the radar this summer. Therefore, I decided to re-post my review of Euphoria, which originally ran on this blog on July 13th of this year. I highly recommend this novel to readers of both literary and historical fiction.

Euphoria by Lily King is an intriguing and sophisticated novel about three anthropologists studying tribes in Papua New Guinea in the 1930s. Loosely based on a real-life love triangle involving Margaret Mead, this piece of literary historical fiction offers an exhilarating mix of the cerebral and the passionate. King considers love, marriage, jealousy, as well as issues of cultural relativism and cultural imperialism.

The Story: King opens the book with a married team of anthropologists beating a hasty retreat from a violent New Guinean tribe called the Mumbanyo. As the couple departs by canoe, a tribe member throws something at them. “'Another dead baby,' Fen said. He had broken her glasses by then, so she didn’t know if he was joking.”

The man and woman are Nell and Fen, clearly modeled on the famous anthropologist Margaret Mead and her second husband, Reo Fortune. Nell has recently achieved fame from her work, and Fen struggles with resentment at her sudden success. Searching for another tribe to study, Nell and Fen meet up with another anthropologist, an emotionally damaged Brit by the name of Bankson (based on Mead’s real-life third husband, Gregory Bateson). The three social scientists begin an intense intellectual collaboration and, soon, fierce desires threaten the balance between them.

My Thoughts: I found Euphoria to be an interesting and deeply satisfying read. The subject, to me, was fascinating; I’ve retained an interest in anthropology since college. King thoroughly researched the lives and work of Mead, Fortune, and Bateson, and ably represents the controversies and issues in the field of anthropology in the 1930s.

But the novel isn’t completely focused on anthropology—far from it. King includes plenty of messy human emotions and complicated relationships. I think this is why the book resonated with me so much. It isn’t often that a literary novel combines big ideas with such an engrossing plot and fascinating set of characters.

Novels based on the lives of real people can be a tricky proposition. Of late, I have found some of these sorts of novels to be disappointing because, often, the writer seems constrained by the real-life trajectory of the characters’ lives. King makes the decision here to deviate from the facts of Mead’s life and create a new ending for Nell, Fen, and Bankson. I will admit that I did not particularly LIKE the ending King chose for her characters, but regardless, I appreciated the suspense of not knowing exactly what would happen.

Euphoria has been compared to Ann Patchett’s State of Wonder, Hanya Yanagihara’s The People in the Trees, and Fieldwork by Mischa Berlinski, all novels in which anthropology plays a central role. Of these other works, I have only read State of Wonder, and I think that Euphoria is the better novel—it is tighter and more focused than Patchett’s book. I do want to read the novels by Yanagihara and Berlinski.

I would rate Euphoria a 4 and a half out of 5 stars. I highly recommend it to those who read literary fiction.

Review of Ghost Horse by Thomas McNeely

Ghost Horse by Thomas McNeely
Publisher: Gival Press
Publication Date: October 6, 2014
Length: 260 pages
Source: Publisher, through TLC Book Tours

Ghost Horse by Thomas McNeely is a powerful debut novel; it is both a deeply moving coming-of-age story and an intense psychological portrait of a family in crisis. McNeely weaves an intricate web of a plot against the backdrop of the racial and class tensions of Houston of the 1970s, and explores themes of love, lost innocence, loyalty, and broken families. The tale of eleven-year-old Buddy over one unsettling year of his adolescence makes for a compelling and worthwhile read.

Synopsis from Publisher: Set amidst the social tensions of 1970s Houston, Ghost Horse tells the story of eleven-year-old Buddy Turner's shifting alliances within his fragmented family and with two other boys--one Anglo, one Latino--in their quest to make a Super-8 animated movie. As his father's many secrets begin to unravel, Buddy discovers the real movie: the intersection between life and he sees it and the truth of his own past. In a vivid story of love, friendship, and betrayal, Ghost Horse explores a boy's swiftly changing awareness of himself and the world through the lens of imagination.

My Thoughts: Ghost Horse is beautifully written. McNeely’s dialogue is sharp and believable, and he skillfully creates a suspenseful, dark atmosphere that fits the intensity of the story perfectly. The characters are richly drawn; Buddy’s two grandmothers, each controlling and difficult in her own way, his hardworking and hopeful mother, his volatile father swinging wildly from one extreme to another, the cold-eyed bully at Buddy’s new school—they all come startlingly, fully to life.

Importantly, McNeely gets Buddy’s adolescent voice exactly right. Buddy is on the cusp of change, sitting at that precarious transition between childhood and adulthood; I’ve read precious few novels that capture that charged passage so exactly. Buddy's anxiety and angst, as he struggles with difficulties at home and at school, are palpable. As the adults all around Buddy make bad decisions, tell lies, and prove themselves to be mostly unreliable, Buddy must learn--at far too young an age--to make his own choices and guide himself through the rough times ahead.

McNeely touches on many themes in Ghost Horse—race, class, sexuality, lost friendship, bullying, and abuse, to name a few, and I could hold forth about how McNeely sheds light on all of these. But one issue that struck me in particular as I read Ghost Horse was that of broken families, and the tumult that divorce causes for children. Divorce felt like a great and terrible scourge to those of us who grew up in the 1970s; at least half of the kids I knew suffered through the break-up of their parents, and the rest of us feared it. McNeely demonstrates how Buddy tries to make sense of his parents’ arguments and actions, but of course he can’t fully understand the complexity of their emotions. He’s trapped in a chaotic situation that is none of his own making, forced to choose between his parents and to deal with issues that no child should have to consider. As a reader, I wanted leap into this story and hug this boy, and give him back a carefree childhood with no greater concern than creating an animated movie with his best friend.

And the “Ghost Horse” itself—what a haunting image. The Ghost Horse, from the Super 8 movie that Buddy and his Latino friend Alex create, appears like a mythological creature . . . symbolizing, perhaps, escape, freedom, and strength. The Ghost Horse represents a world in which things are still black and white, while Buddy’s world has turned to confusing and constantly shifting shades of grey. If only the Ghost Horse could fly in and save Buddy; but Buddy, must, of course, find a way to save himself.

I could go on, but this is becoming a lengthy review, indeed. Let me sum up by saying that Ghost Horse is a gripping read—I turned the pages feverishly, desperate to know what would happen and if Buddy would be okay. This is a story that unsettled me at times, but will stay with me. I highly recommend this novel for readers who love literary fiction and complex family stories.

I received a complimentary copy of this novel from Gival Press. Thank you to TLC Book Tours and Gival Press for the opportunity to read Ghost Horse and participate in this blog tour. You can visit the other tour stops on TLC’s website here.

About Thomas McNeely: A native of Houston, Texas, Thomas H. McNeely has received fellowships from the Wallace Stegner Program at Stanford University, the Dobie Paisano Program at the University of Texas at Austin, and the National Endowment for the Arts, as well as from the MacDowell Colony, the Helene Wurlitzer Foundation, and the Vermont Studio Center. His fiction has appeared in The Atlantic, Ploughshares, The Virginia Quarterly Review, and Epoch, and has been anthologized in Algonquin Books’ Best of the South and What If?: Writing Exercises for Fiction Writers. His non-fiction has appeared in Ninth Letter and The Rumpus. Ghost Horse is his first book. He teaches in the Emerson College Honors Program and the Stanford Online Writing Studio, and lives with his wife and daughter in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Find out more about Thomas at his website.

Review of Lila by Marilynne Robinson

Lila by Marilynne Robinson
Publisher: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux
Publication Date: October 7, 2014
Length: 272 pages
Source: Library copy

Marilynne Robinson’s newest book Lila is a beautifully written, character-driven novel about a remarkable woman and her journey from suffering and abandonment to love and grace.

The Story: Quite simply, Lila is the story of a woman named Lila who has lived her life on the road as a poor, itinerant laborer. Lila doesn’t know her real name; a tough woman named Doll stole her away from her neglectful home when Lila was a small girl. Doll and Lila eke out a hand to mouth existence filled with much hardship, and sometimes with joys; but as an adult, without Doll, Lila finds mostly loneliness and desperation.

Sometime in the 1940s, Lila arrives in the small town of Gilead, Iowa, and forms an unlikely friendship with the town’s minister, Rev. John Ames. Although Ames is much older than Lila, and although Lila has lived a life untouched by religion, these two lonely souls marry, surprising the residents of the town as well as themselves. Lila, uncertain she can bear to remain in this settled life, so different from her rough past, soon finds that she is carrying her husband’s child.

My Thoughts: I’ve never read Marilynne Robinson before. Some readers and reviewers have suggested that you should not attempt Lila before reading Gilead, because Lila is in fact a kind of prequel to Robinson's 2004 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel. Robinson has also written another novel, Home, with some of the same characters. But to be honest, Gilead never appealed to me; the novel is written as a letter by Rev. Ames, now dying at the age of 77, to his 7-year-old son. Despite the praise and critical acclaim, I simply didn’t feel drawn to the subject matter.

When I read about Lila, though, I felt compelled to hear the story of Lila’s strange and nearly feral upbringing. I wanted to experience her story and know something about her process of coming in from the wild, so to speak, and how she decided to marry a man several decades her senior.

If you know anything about Robinson, you know that religion is a major theme of her work. There are many of scriptural references in this novel (Ezekiel and Job—not, perhaps, the most accessible Biblical stories), and Lila wrestles with the concepts of baptism and salvation, and the question of whether those she loved in her previous hardscrabble life would be harshly judged by God. The religious elements, truthfully, weren’t what kept me deeply engrossed in Robinson’s story.

Instead, it was the beautifully drawn and nuanced character of Lila herself that interested me throughout this book—Robinson skillfully brings this woman to life. Lila’s surrogate mother Doll is a wonderful, richly drawn character as well. I was fascinated by Lila’s childhood on the road, by her complex relationship with Doll, and by her difficult experiences as a young woman in a St Louis brothel. I found myself absolutely riveted by the question of whether Lila, a survivor of much trauma and too little kindness, could learn to give and receive love and lead an ordinary domestic life.

And Robinson’s writing is a delight—subtle and fluid, but with many layers of meaning. Some reviews have faulted Robinson for telling Lila’s story in the third person, suggesting it would have had more power as a first person narrative, similar to Ames’s direct first person voice in her previous book. I can’t compare Lila to Gilead, but I thought Lila’s story as Robinson chose to tell it was enormously powerful indeed.

And, let me say, I disagree that you must read one of the other Gilead novels before Lila; I think Lila can stand alone as a work of fiction without connection to the previous novels. I would recommend this novel, but mainly to those who love literary fiction and are comfortable with character-driven novels. I would rate Lila, which has been shortlisted for the National Book Award for Fiction, a four out of five stars.

Review of Some Luck by Jane Smiley

Some Luck by Jane Smiley
Publisher: Alfred A. Knopf
Publication Date: October 7, 2014
Length: 416 pages
Source: Library copy

The Story: Some Luck, the new novel from Jane Smiley, is the first of a planned trilogy called “The Last Hundred Years” about the Langdon family. The five children of Walter and Rosanna Langdon, each very different from one another, grow up on an isolated farm in Denby, Iowa in the 1920s and ‘30s. Their childhoods are spent leading the same kind of rural life that their parents and grandparents did, bound by time-honored agricultural rhythms. The country is on the brink of sweeping social and economic change, however, and the Langdon children will find themselves spreading out from the Midwestern heartland, experiencing things that their parents could never have imagined.

By the end of the book, in 1952, some of the Langdons have found themselves in Washington DC, New York City, and San Francisco, while some remain in Iowa. Their experiences have been as enormously diverse as their personalities. Three of the Langdon children have married and now have children of their own. With the Langdons, Smiley provides an intimate, and often poignant, portrait of an ordinary American family through the decades.

My Thoughts: I’ve read quite a number of Jane Smiley’s novels, most of them back in the 1990s (strange that the 1990s seems so long ago now!). I’ve always appreciated Smiley as a natural storyteller, and for the fluid nature of her prose. A good Smiley novel--like A Thousand Acres, my favorite of her books--immerses you completely in the lives of her characters, and you don’t want to leave that world when the novel ends. But the last Smiley novel I read was disappointing for me (Ten Days in the Hills). When I heard that Smiley had written a new novel, a multi-generational story about an Iowa farm family, I knew that I wanted to experience it.

And fortunately, Some Luck is a marvelous, engrossing read. I found this story of one family’s life through the years to be unexpectedly riveting, and I wanted to savor every last bit of it.

Smiley doesn’t follow the familiar structure used in many novels, of exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, resolution, etc. Instead, each chapter of Some Luck covers a year in the life of the Langdon family, starting with 1920 and ending in 1952. Every year Smiley gives you a good sense of the rhythms of the Langdons’ lives with a few vignettes about some of the characters. Sometimes a big change happens in a particular year, and sometimes not; small moments sometimes reveal themselves to be significant only with the passage of time. I thought Smiley’s year-by-year structure was a brilliant device to allow readers to fully immerse themselves into the experiences of her characters.

I imagine that some readers will find this structure hard to take, and will wonder, “but where is the PLOT?” Well, to put it simply, the plot is these characters’ lives. As in most real people’s lives, there isn’t one climactic moment that changes everything or a single dramatic resolution. Rather, Smiley seems to say, for the Langdons, as for all of us, there is life, every year—life, with its day-to-day struggles and joys, with its continual cycle of births, passions, and disappointments--until finally, there is death. What greater plot, really, is there?

I would rate Some Luck a 4 out of 5 stars—not a 5, because I do think the start is a little slow. I recommend Some Luck to readers of literary and historical fiction, especially those who like to sink their teeth into a good multi-generational family saga, and I will look forward to the next book in Smiley’s trilogy about the Langdon family.

Review of We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons
Publication Date: May 30, 2013
Length: 310 pages
Source: My own copy

Plot Synopsis from The Man Booker Prize 2014 Website: As a child, Rosemary used to talk all the time. So much so that her parents used to tell her to start in the middle if she wanted to tell a story. Now Rosemary has just started college and she barely talks at all. And she definitely doesn’t talk about her family. So we're not going to tell you too much either: you'll have to find out for yourself what it is that makes her unhappy family unlike any other. Rosemary is now an only child, but she used to have a sister the same age as her, and an older brother. Both are now gone - vanished from her life. But there's something unique about Rosemary's sister, Fern. So now she's telling her story; a looping narrative that begins towards the end, and then goes back to the beginning. Twice.

My Thoughts: Oh, I loved this novel, and I’m having a very difficult time expressing why. We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves is a work of literary fiction that is both intelligent and highly readable. Fowler tackles some very big, thought-provoking topics—What does it mean to be human? What does it mean to take responsibility for our loved ones? How can we atone for our inevitable failures? Big topics, indeed, and those are just a few. There is also much to think about in this novel about memory, family, and the ethics of scientific research. And yet, with all of that, Fowler keeps the plot moving quickly, with plenty of action (even some almost mad-cap comedy), and manages to keep the tone lively and even jaunty at times. The result is a witty and engaging novel that entertains as well as makes you think.

This is a book that I couldn’t put down, and it hasn’t left my thoughts since I finished it a few weeks ago. It is a terrific achievement for Fowler, and I’m glad the novel received a spot on the Man Booker Prize shortlist (first time for an American woman, folks, so that alone will, I hope, encourage more fiction readers to give this book a try).

I think one reason I have hesitated about writing a full review is that too many reviews have spoiled the surprise—and, in fact, even the back of my paperback copy spoils it! I can’t understand why the publisher, and then many reviewers, didn’t allow Fowler to reveal key plot elements in her own way. This is why, after worrying about whether I could write about this book without spoilers, I decided to use the short synopsis from the Man Booker Prize website. I’d recommend that anyone interested simply read the book, without looking at any further reviews or descriptions beforehand. I will say, though, that I knew the “surprise” before starting the novel, and I still loved it. Nevertheless, I would have loved to experience the reveal (or really, series of reveals) as Fowler no doubt intended.

My rating for We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves is 5 of 5 stars.

Mini Reviews of Fall Reads

Lately, my reading seems to be far out-pacing my blogging, and I’m behind on writing reviews. In order to catch up a bit, I decided to post mini reviews for a few of the books I’ve read recently, so I can at least record my thoughts. I’m gradually coming to the realization, which I know some of my fellow book bloggers have discovered, that I may not be able to post a lengthy, well-considered review of every single book I read.

So here are a few thoughts about some of my recent reads this fall:

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

I have certainly NOT been in the market for more post-apocalyptic/dystopian novels; in fact, I am quite ready for some POST-post-apocalyptic fiction! Please, writers, please. But I decided to read Station Eleven after Mandel’s book landed on the National Book Award longlist. And I do see why this novel has received mostly flattering reviews. Mandel’s premise of a traveling troupe of Shakespearean actors and musicians, moving about the countryside and performing two decades after the great flu pandemic has decimated the population, is absolutely fascinating. In fact, I wanted to hear more about the woman who established the group (the Conductor) and the other itinerant players in the Traveling Symphony. I felt like Mandel had an amazing idea but didn’t fully develop it.

Instead, she takes the story back and forth between the Traveling Symphony and the time before the flu pandemic, but to me, the sections in the novel before the flu lacked interest. The characters in the pre-flu period seem to exhibit a great deal of malaise and unhappiness; no doubt Mandel is making a point, but it doesn’t make for very gripping reading. The heart and great strength of her story, I think, lies with the players of the Traveling Symphony and their efforts to not merely survive, but to create art and beauty in a harsh and unforgiving world. These sections make the novel a worthwhile read. My rating for Station Eleven is about a 3.5 stars out of 5.

How to Build a Girl by Caitlin Moran

Caitlin Moran’s coming-of-age novel was released in August of this year, amid much fanfare (a bestseller in the UK! Gushing blurbs from Lena Dunham and Helen Fielding!). Moran, of course, is known for her essay collection, How to Be A Woman, which I have not read. How to Build A Girl was for me, a perfectly pleasant read. Sometimes I found it laugh-out-loud funny, and that is always a welcome surprise in a novel. I think, though, that perhaps the buzz for the book outpaced the novel itself, and at times I felt that the plot and characters were lacking something. I felt, too, that it seemed less like a novel than a sort of fictionalized memoir of Moran’s teen years in the 1990s. I appreciated Moran’s voice, but it didn’t quite click with me as a work of fiction—at least, not as much I had expected. I would rate it as 3 out of 5 stars, but still note that I think many readers will find it an amusing and enjoyable read.

Review of Rainey Royal by Dylan Landis

Rainey Royal by Dylan Landis
Publisher: Soho Press
Publication Date: September 9, 2014
Length: 246 pages
Source: Library copy

A teenage bully, a talented artist, a loyal friend, an abandoned daughter, an abused child—Rainey Royal is all of these things. In her new novel Rainey Royal, Dylan Landis tells 14 stories about her title character and her passage to adulthood. But this hypnotizing and unnerving novel is more than the tale of one girl; through Rainey, Landis sheds light on the complex, precarious experience of girlhood.

The Story: In 1970s Greenwich Village, teenage Rainey Royal lives in a deteriorating brownstone with her father Howard, a jazz musician so revered that young acolytes arrive to learn from the master . . . as well as to sleep in the master’s home (often in the master’s bed), share his drugs, and eat his pizza. A musical commune is a strange place indeed to raise a child, and Howard’s approach to parenthood is one of, at best, benign neglect. Residing in the townhouse is also Howard’s good friend and fellow musician Gordy, with whom Howard “shares everything,” even, apparently, his wife, Rainey’s mother . . . that is, before she abruptly de-camped to an ashram in Colorado. Now Gordy comes unwanted to Rainey’s bedroom at night, to brush her hair and give her back rubs.

While Rainey fights off creepy Gordy’s advances, she finds solace in visits to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in pleas to St Catherine of Bologna, the patron saint of artists, and in her friendship with a tough girl named Tina. Together, Rainey and Tina torment weaker girls at school, cause mischief great and small, and experiment with their blossoming sexual power (“engaging with the male teachers” inappropriately, as the school psychologist delicately puts it; Rainey and Tina call it The Private Game).

Landis follows Rainey--fierce, reckless, wounded Rainey--through her teens and early twenties, as she acts out, tries on different personas, and . . . somehow . . . survives her strange childhood and begins to grow into the woman and artist she was meant to be.

My Thoughts: I galloped through Rainey Royal, mesmerized by the intensity and heart of this book and wanting to consume every word of Landis’s fluid and elegant prose. Landis’ portrayal of Rainey is deeply nuanced and absolutely spot on; she has created a character that practically leaps off the page. Her Rainey is, quite convincingly, both prey and predator. Landis perfectly captures the crazy combination of deep vulnerability and sharp cruelty that teen girls can have. Rainey and Tina are nauseatingly, frighteningly powerful as they run emotional roughshod over classmates, and even teachers, at school, and delve into even more terrible behavior outside of school. They are desperately in need of adult guidance; without it, they must, in a sense, create themselves.

For me, Rainey Royal was a wonderful and entertaining read, although I felt the novel lost some of its power when Landis shifted the focus away from Rainey herself. Landis tells several of the final stories from the perspective of Rainey’s friends Tina and Leah, and while I appreciated those voices (especially Tina’s), I longed for more of Rainey’s singularly compelling voice as the novel drew to a close.

I hope Landis will write another novel book with these characters; I would love to know what happens to them as they pass out of new adulthood and into their thirties and beyond. Landis’s story collection Normal People Don't Live Like This, published in 2009, focused on Leah and her mom, and of course Rainey is the star of Rainey Royal; perhaps in Landis’s next book, it will be time for the young Dr. Tina Dial to take center stage.

Review of A Sudden Light by Garth Stein

A Sudden Light by Garth Stein
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Publication Date: September 30, 2014
Length: 416 pages
Source: Publisher through NetGalley

Garth Stein's A Sudden Light, a multi-generational family saga set in the Pacific Northwest, offers a promising premise, but Stein fails to deliver a nuanced and compelling novel. An improbable plot and unconvincing characters make this novel one that all but the most devoted of Stein's fans should probably skip.

The Story: It is the summer of 1990, and fourteen-year-old Trevor Riddell is hoping to save his parents’ troubled marriage. While his mother returns to her native England for the summer, Trevor has traveled to Seattle with his father, Jones, to prepare the family’s ancestral estate on Puget Sound for sale. Trevor’s great-great-grandfather Elijah Riddell, he learns, earned a fortune in the timber business, and built a massive home, Riddell House, out of giant, whole trees. Still living in the crumbling mansion are Trevor’s grandfather, who seems to be either senile or perpetually drunk or both, and his sultry, manipulative aunt Serena. There is dysfunction aplenty in this strange family, and tensions among its members mount as they attempt to sell the estate to developers. And it turns out there are other complications as well . . . namely, the ghost of a former ancestor who wants the estate returned to forestland. Trevor seeks to unlock the mysteries of Riddell House and his family’s past.

My Thoughts: When I read the publisher’s description of A Sudden Light, I thought the story seemed to have all the elements of a big, juicy novel: a coming-of-age story, a multi-generational family saga, and a Gothic, possibly haunted, house full of secrets to discover. I was interested in the Pacific Northwest setting, and imagined an interesting view into the timber industry of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. But despite the promising premise, these elements never come together to create a cohesive novel.

Trevor’s voice is never fully believable as that of a fourteen-year-old, so the novel falls flat as a coming-of-age story. The other characters are one-dimensional and sometimes sink to the level of mere caricature; the character of Trevor’s aunt Serena, especially, the only major female character, struck me as utterly implausible and, frankly, ridiculous. Stein’s dialogue is stilted; the characters interact in odd ways and periodically launch into soliloquies, but none of it sounds like something actual people might say.

The plot, moreover, seems to be missing something essential. Elijah Riddell, the family patriarch, has allegedly cursed the family with his many sins . . . but Stein never spells these sins out. Ok, he was a timber baron and cut down a lot of trees—that alone isn’t much to hang a good curse on. I couldn’t help thinking of Philipp Meyer’s excellent novel set in Texas, The Son; Meyer clearly unveils the family patriarch’s transgressions, and the fact that his actions reverberate through subsequent generations makes sense. In A Sudden Light, readers are asked to take for granted that Riddell’s ancestors must all pay the price for his unnamed actions.

As for the ghost . . . well, I don’t read many novels with supernatural elements, I’ll admit, so perhaps I’m not the best judge. But for me, in any case, the ghost story part in A Sudden Light didn’t come together very convincingly. The ghost seemed to me mostly a device to further the plot whenever a little additional explication was needed.

Although much in this novel didn’t work for me, I do think there are positive elements here. I was interested in the story of Ben, his lover, and his surprisingly understanding fiancée—I wanted to hear more about them, and perhaps to travel back in time into their world. It seemed to me that these characters alone might have made an intriguing basis for a novel. Stein writes movingly about nature and conservation; clearly he is passionate about the environment.

I haven’t read Garth Stein before. His previous novel, The Art of Racing in the Rain, of course, achieved phenomenal success, but I have to admit I can’t tell from A Sudden Light what endeared Stein to so many readers. With all of the wonderful new books available this fall, I would not recommend this novel.

I received a complimentary copy of this book for review consideration from the publisher, Simon & Schuster, through NetGalley.