The Abstinence Teacher

I have a love/hate thing going with Tom Perrotta.  I loved Election and Little Children (although, strangely, I thought in both cases the movie was better than the book), was ambivalent toward The Wishbones, and really did not like Joe College.  The Abstinence Teacher is hands down my favorite of Perrotta's books.  The characters are believable and evoke sympathy, and the theme relevant (one of Perrotta's greatest strengths), highlighting the tension between secular and religious America.  I highly recommend it.

The Road

Bleak, depressing, and sad, The Road could fall into the genre of the dystopic novel because of its post-apocalyptic setting, but I consider it an allegory of the parent-child relationship.  The parent goes through hardship to care for the child and keep him alive.  The parent tries to explain why he is doing what he is doing, even though the child cannot understand, and the parent cannot adequately explain.  The parent tries to instill a sense of morality.  All of this done in the hope that the child will be equipped to care for himself when it becomes necessary.  While I didn't love The Road (so bleak, depressing, and sad), I am comforted by the message in the face of my own grief in the recent loss of my mother.

Highlights from the last year

The best books I've read in the last year:

• The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay (Michael Chabon)
• Suite Francaise (Irene Nemirovsky)
• The Nine (Jeffrey Toobin)
• The Abstinence Teacher (Tom Perrotta)
• George Saunders (Pastoralia, CivilWarLand in Bad Decline, The Braindead Megaphone)
• Interpreter of Maladies (Jhumpa Lahiri)

Other books I liked:

• All We Ever Wanted Was Everything (Janelle Brown)
• Lush Life (Richard Price)
• The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (Sherman Alexie)

A whole year?

I haven't updated this blog in over a year. I am a fly-by-night, follow-the-trend-then-abandon-it kind of girl. I had a facebook page for about six months too. Life has thrown me a lot of crap in the last year, last two years, actually, but there has been one constant: books. As long as I can still take refuge in a fictional world, the real world is a little easier to traverse. My reading over the last year has been spotty, and my views clearly colored by what I've been going through. I know The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao is an excellent novel, but because I was reading it as my mother was dying, it is forever tainted. I've abandoned a lot of books over the last year as well, some unable to hold my interest, others I've deemed a waste in a short life. My love of books has brought me back here, and I think I'm going to give mini-reviewing another go.

Falling Man--Don DeLillo

I think DeLillo isn't at the top of his game with Falling Man, which pains me as a DeLillophile (and thus frequent apologist). Plot summary: a couple struggles to make sense of 9/11, cut three years, they are better, but still messed up. The title falling man is but a small part, as are the disjointed scenes fictionalizing the radical conversion of Mohammed Atta. The elements of what DeLillo does well are still evident here--scenes of dense imagery that leave you breathless (the last few pages are particularly brilliant)--but the plot doesn't really go anywhere. Perhaps the lack of plot direction is intended to reflect that as a society we still lack focus and consensus about the meaning of 9/11, but maybe I'm giving DeLillo too much credit and it's just an unfocused novel.

She's Not There--Jennifer Finney Boylan

**Book Club Pick** She's Not There is the memoir of a transgendered English professor in the process of transitioning from male to female. I have mixed feelings about this book. By turns funny, sad, and intriguing (Richard Russo is her best friend!), I don't feel like I gained an overarching understanding of transgender from reading it. There were moments in the book where she had the opportunity to go a little deeper into gender issues, and I felt like she chose to stay superficial and focus on the chronology and the details of the transition and its effect on her friends and family. For example, shortly after she transitioned, she was chatted up by a drunk man who followed her out of the bar, got demanding, and ended up following her in her car. He passed on by when she stopped at a gas station, but she had quite a scare. To me, this was a great opportunity for her to discuss the fears women face every day, what it means to be a woman in this society, something like that, but she didn't even scratch the surface. Disappointingly, she just recounted it as a story. I must say, though, that this book got the discussion going in our book club like never before, trying to wrap our heads around gender, its meaning and implications.

Mao II--Don DeLillo

In Mao II, DeLillo delves into the world of a renowned author and later links him to terrorism, drawing a comparison between writers and terrorists as societal participants. He is also concerned with the crowd as a cultural function or force. DeLillo's cultural commentary is prescient and spot-on. His observations are unspoken universal truths and when coupled with his incredible, dense imagery, they are discomforting, to the point that at times I had to put the book down and take a breath to curb physical manifestations of anxiety. Yeah, his dialogue is stilted, but that has never bothered me that much. To me, it is meta-dialogue, dialectical in function. I can't describe the effect DeLillo has on me, except to say that he makes me look at the world differently.

The Killer Angels--Michael Shaara

**Book Club Pick** Traditional Civil War history is not my thing, due in large part, to its focus on military minutia and great men to the exclusion of other historical considerations. At the same time, however, I am greatly intrigued by the Civil War, arguably the single most important event in the development of our nation, as I believe that we are still dealing with its ramifications in this country today, in ways most of us are unaware. Unfortunately for me then, The Killer Angels, a fictionalized retelling of the battle of Gettysburg, focuses on great men and military minutia. My prejudice against this type of history, however, didn't prevent me from recognizing the work as a readable, well-told story of the personalities behind the battle and the significance of that battle in the larger military context of the war.

The History of Love--Nicole Krauss

I liked this one, although I kept getting characters mixed up, but I couldn't help thinking about how Krauss is married to Jonathan Safran Foer and how their books had similar themes, and then I wondered about what it would be like for two writers to live together. Do they borrow ideas from each other? Are they secretive with what they are working on? Do they bounce ideas off each other? Do they borrow discarded ideas from one another? I couldn't stop thinking about this, and it kept me from enjoying the book. Weird, I know.

I Am the Messenger--Markus Zusak

I loved the Book Thief so much that I had to pick this one up when I saw it glinting on the library shelf. Ed Kennedy is getting mysterious messages on playing cards, directing him to do things to help his fellow man. Without a lot going on in his life, he takes up the mantle and starts making people feel good. Quirky and hopeful, it's a nice story.

The Thirteenth Tale--Diane Setterfield

A story within a story, about mysteries (fictional and metafictional), authors, and the love of books qua books. Set in the English countryside, it has a gothic feel. When I finished this (back in May, I believe) I loved it, but in retrospect, some of the connections between characters don't totally add up for me. But still a good read, though I'd recommend it for winter, when you can curl up with it, and a blanket, and a cup of cocoa. There's a lot of cocoa drinking going on in it.

Confession: I have read thirteen books since my last post. I have no excuse but that I've had one crazy summer, replete with family and personal health crises, high school reunion planning, and a wild Harry Potter birthday party (wild for six- and seven-year-olds, that is). I'm taking suggestions for an appropriate penance.

I'm so far behind in posting (six books or so!) because of this thing called Goodreads.com, a social networking site for people who like to read. It is completely addictive. Check it out if you are so inclined. I'm posting reviews of books I read there, and soon will transfer them here, but I may abandon the blog all together in favor of goodreads. I'm still deciding.

I Am Charlotte Simmons--Tom Wolfe

I came to I Am Charlotte Simmons with trepidation. I had read the reviews that likened Wolfe to a voyeur and questioned his motivation in spending years "observing" typical college students fifty years his junior. It seemed creepy. But when I saw it in the bargain bin, I couldn't resist, and as it turned out, I couldn't put the thing down. Wolfe is a great writer and storyteller, and although there are some weird things about the book, like his linguistic obsessions over current uses of profanity, he presents a compelling story and a fascinating character in Charlotte. Charlotte, a brilliant student from the impoverished, rural North Carolina, earns a scholarship to the prestigious Dupont University, and dreams of intellectual stimulation unlike she has ever known. Instead, she finds a world of wealth, privilege, and debauchery. Although she wants to play the games of sexual intrigue of her classmates, she has none of the requisite accompanying hardness and cynicism, so her efforts are personally devastating. Wolfe deftly tackles big themes--purity, vanity, greed, social class. He may have gotten some of the details wrong, and if you are currently a college student I'm sure you will find much with which to quarrel, but the bigger story is superb.

About Alice--Calvin Trillin

In About Alice, Calvin Trillin pens a moving tribute to his late wife of nearly 40 years. He celebrates her passions and her quirks and their life together. Both sad and sweet, it is a true-to-life love story. Have tissues handy.

Black Swan Green--David Mitchell

**My Book Club Pick** Set in the early 1980s in a small English suburb, Mitchell navigates the treacherous waters of early adolescence, through the eyes of Jason Taylor. Jason's life is changing. His parents are fighting, his sister is leaving for university, and he works to control the "hangman" who makes him stammer. There is the usual coming of age fare here--dealing with bullies, avoiding appearing too interested in school, and sexual curiosity--but Black Swan Green's poignance and quirkiness set this one apart from similar works. Two enthusiastic thumbs up.

The Birthday Party--Stanley N. Alpert

In The Birthday Party former federal prosecutor Stanley N. Alpert recounts his random kidnapping in 1998, in which he was held for 24 hours and then released; his abductors wanted only to withdraw money from his bank account. They targeted him because of his expensive-looking trench coat. He was treated well, as far as these things go, and released unharmed, but the experience was still harrowing. That much of the story is interesting. I'll give him that. But this is not a good book. It is poorly written, very poorly, and Alpert comes off as a whiny, chauvanistic, elitist snob, frequently mentioning the cost of personal items he owns and the large amount of money he made as a law-firm lawyer, neither of which were relevant to his abduction. Further, he spent a great deal of time talking about how important he was as a federal prosecutor. If I didn't work with federal judges and prosecutors on a regular basis, I might have bought that, but I do, and most of them are not as egomanical as Alpert comes off in the book. If Alpert would have stuck to the details of the crime and later the investigation without the personal details that appear only to self-aggrandize, it would have been a better book. Avoid this one.

The Mighty and the Almighty--Madeleine Albright

Full disclosure. I love Madeleine Albright. She is a hero to me--brilliant, tough, and a successful Secretary of State. It makes me love Bill Clinton more for choosing her to represent America to the world. The Mighty and the Almighty was not the most fascinating memoir I've ever read (sorry Maddy!). But its strengths far outweigh its weaknesses. Albright talks about the Clinton administration's decision-making processes (which she speculates are far, far different from those of the current administration), and speaks candidly of both their foreign policy triumphs and errors. All in all, interesting thoughts of a fascinating American.

American Fascists--Chris Hedges

Last year, I read Michelle Goldberg's Kingdom Coming, about the rise of "Christian Nationalism," the political movement of evangelical Christians. I said it was the scariest book I had read in a while. Strike that, American Fascists is the scariest book I have read, possibly ever. Picking up on the same themes, but with more alarmism, Hedges describes the twenty-five year progression that began with Pat Robertson's and Jerry Falwell's early televangelism, and has led to enormous political influence over government from the local school board that mandates the teaching of creationism to the establishment of the Republican Party. Hedges makes a number of arguments, but his most paradoxical is that liberals who value a free society are harming that very ideal by tolerating the intolerant "Dominionists". He likens the movement, whose ultimate political goal is an American theocracy, to the Nazi party. Hedges--the son of a Presbyterian minister, graduate of Harvard Divinity School, and Pulitzer Prize winning journalist--has the street cred to know of what he speaks. If this interests you, read it, along with Michelle Goldberg's Kingdom Coming. It will send shivers down your spine.

The Book Thief--Markus Zusak

In the interest of getting caught up on my now seven-book backlog, I'll be brief. The Book Thief is wonderful. I'd even call it delightful, except that it deals with some difficult subject matter. Set in Nazi Germany, The Book Thief is narrated by the very busy angel of death, who tells in detail the story of Leisel Memminger, an orphan adopted by a working-class German family in the late 1930s. Leisel's coming of age (and her intense love of books) is set against the poverty of her circumstances and the uncertainty and fear that characterized Hitler's rise to power. I highly recommend it; one of my favorites so far this year. A shout out to briefwriter for suggesting it.

The Scarlet Letter--Nathaniel Hawthorne

I have posted before how I tended not to read the books that I was assigned to read in high school. The Scarlet Letter, however, I did read, but I didn't understand it. I have memories of reading the assigned pages, being rather confused, then getting to class to have Mrs. Nicholson tell me what I had read, and thinking, "that's not what I read." Luckily, I understood it this time around, and I'm very glad I gave it another try. On this read I realized that it is just a superb story, with the angry, craggy Roger Chillingworth, taking revenge on tortured Arthur Dimmesdale, and poor Hester Prynne faced daily with her indiscretion by the letter on her breast, and the child flitting about her, and none able to be happy because of repressed puritan society. Good stuff.

Libra--Don DeLillo

Due to my general malaise, and unforseen computer problems, I am a shameful and unprecedent five books behind in posting. Mea Culpa.

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Libra is Don DeLillo's take on the Kennedy assassination, and the life of Lee Harvey Oswald. DeLillo recounts Oswald's (fictionalized) life story, focusing on significant life events that impact his tragic choices and mythical end. DeLillo is so gentle with Oswald--revealing him to be idealistic and well-intentioned, albeit seriously misguided and somewhat dim--that I developed a great deal of sympathy for him. A parallel plot involves the role of the CIA in recruiting and directing Oswald. This is interesting as a theory, but because stories of CIA intrigue aren't really my thing, those parts dragged for me. But, DeLillo is an amazing writer, one of the best, and his unique descriptive voice enlivens this legendary piece of American history. The pages describing the assassination are excruciatingly beautiful and haunting, and they stayed with me for days.

The Uses of Enchantment--Heidi Julavits

The Uses of Enchantment tells the story of a middle-class suburban teenager, Mary Veal, who mysteriously disappears. When she turns up after a couple of months, she is taken under the wing of a therapist who determines that she faked her own abduction, and writes a book about this "syndrome" in adolescent girls. The story is told from different perspectives--that of the therapist, the present-day teenager (now in her 30s), and chapters entitled "What Might Have Happened," which recount the abduction (or do they?). There is also a parallel story of a teenager abducted in the 1970s under similar circumstances, and another one about a Salem witch. What actually happened is never made clear, which I guess is much of the point, but so frustrating! I'm not opposed to ambiguity in plot, and under certain circumstances find it refreshing, but there was so much ambiguity here that it obscured the story. Although Julavits is great at description, there is also some uneveness in tone, and I found some of the dialogue (exchanges with her sisters, in particular) excruciating. I have no sisters and therefore no personal experience upon which to judge, so perhaps talking to them is excruciating? All in all, an ambitious novel with some rough patches.

Everyman--Philip Roth

Why, oh why, did I pick this up at the library? I knew it would be utterly depressing, and it was. Utterly. But I loved The Plot Against America, and I couldn't resist Everyman's compact size for throwing into my lunch bag for reading on the train to work. (Indeed, my book choices are frequently informed by ease of carrying onto the metrolink.) In brief, the story begins at a funeral of the "everyman" main character, then Roth recounts the life that was, focusing in particular on old age, which he calls "a massacre." Roth is getting old and he's not happy about it. If you love Roth you should read this because the things that Roth does well--visceral orientation to time and place--he does well here, but it is a total downer. You have been warned.

Old School--Tobias Wolff

Old School is a coming-of-age story, set in a New England prep school in the 1960s. The unnamed narrator defines himself by his association with the prep-school literary elite--the editorial board of the school literary magazine. In the narrator's senior year, the school hosts Robert Frost, Ayn Rand, and the most admired author of the students--Ernest Hemingway. He and his classmates contend for a personal audience with each author through writing contests, in which they try to best themselves and each other.

I was surprised at how much I liked this novel. I picked it up at a library branch we don't usually frequent unless it's cold and Ben needs to get out of the house (it has an overwhelming amount of toys for a library), and I managed to read about 50 pages while he played. I love how Wolff describes being in love with literature, and the creative inspiration of youth. He makes palpable the feeling that nothing is better than writing the perfect sentence. Granted, it is one of too many novels about the white, privileged, east coast elite, and it loses points for that, but what is good about Old School outweighs what isn't.

Fahrenheit 451--Ray Bradbury

Ack! I'm four books behind in posting, so, the next few entries are going to be quick and dirty.

**Book Club Pick** Literature has no place in the dystopian world of Fahrenheit 451, where people spend days listening to eerily-iPod-like "shells," and watching reality programs on big-screen televisions. Fire no longer threatens homes, but firemen still exist for burning books, incendiary literature being the danger. Guy Montag (a superb literary name, I must say), one of these fireman, meets a young woman who makes him believe that there is more to life than distraction, that conversation and thought, long forgotten and suppressed, are the source of ultimate freedom. The book tells of Guy's personal journey in rejecting the system and searching for meaning, as the greater society implodes. I'd never read Fahrenheit 451. It made me think about control of information and my luddite fear that placing information in electronic files is a way of ceding ownership of that information, probably one of the reasons I keep buying books. Bradbury's predictions about distractions to keep society from thinking, have come to pass. I hope book burning isn't looming.

Black and Blue--Anna Quindlen

I would not have picked up Black and Blue, with its proudly-displayed "Oprah's Book Club" emblem, had it not been a quarter at the annual neighborhood yard sale, but seeing as it was under a dollar, and was written by a journalist I admire, I thought I'd give it a whirl. Basic plot: smart woman in abusive relationship almost dies from a beating, and finally leaves with her son. She starts a new life, but it is clouded by the threat of her husband finding her. Quindlen creates a believeable world that includes some very well-written supporting characters, and she made the point that smart women can end up in abusive relationships. Got it. Not an utter waste of time, but not really my thing.

Pastoralia--George Saunders

Tom recommended this short story collection to me, and seeing how Tom has made some great recommendations in the past--I still have his now dogeared copy of John Berger's Ways of Seeing--I decided to give Pastoralia a try. Good stories--funny and odd--with some nice pomo social commentary thrown in. I really liked the story "Pastoralia," and a few of the others. In fact, I liked them so much that I might pick up Saunders's more recent In Persuasion Nation.

A sad day

Molly Ivins, Columnist, Dies at 62

Treasuring the Wit and Wisdom of Molly Ivins

This Is Not Chick Lit--Elizabeth Merrick, Ed.

**My Book Club Pick** I chose This Is Not Chick Lit for book club because we don't usually pick anthologies, and I wanted us to read some contemporary women authors. I was also curious to see if the whole "chick lit" thing would provoke discussion. Indeed, a lively discussion was had. Most of us felt that although chick lit may not be high literature, it has its place and shouldn't be relegated to the Harlequin romance section, and that chick lit, as a genre, offers more than its stereotype. We also discussed the anti-chick-lit chick-lit cover.

High points in the anthology: "Volunteers are Shining Stars," Curtis Sittenfeld's exploration of the fine line between crazy and not crazy; Jennifer Egan's "Selling the General," in which a Central American dictator gets a PR makeover; Judy Budnitz's "Jean, Jeanne, La Pucelle, Maid of Orleans," wherein Joan of Arc's crusade is captured by a reality television crew; and Roxana Robinson's "Embrace," the tale of an evolving marriage forced to endure tragedy. Overall, I give high marks to This Is Not Chick Lit. As with any anthology it contains some stinkers, but there are also some thought-provoking stories.

Year-End Recap

So, I managed to read 52 books in 2006, a couple more than I set out to, and at a pace of roughly one book a week. While I feel I accomplished an admirable goal, there were times when I stressed myself out over reading, something I never wished to happen. Overall though, it wasn't that hard to achieve, the only sacrifice being some craptastic TV. This may be the year, however, in which Ben remembers his mother telling him repeatedly, "I'll be there as soon as I finish this paragraph." I will remember 2006 as the year I discovered the amazing Daniel Woodrell, the year Margaret Atwood's fabulosity became firmly cemented in my brain, and the year I became nearly obsessed with Harry Potter. Also high on my list of the 52: The Plot Against America (although I had read it before), Never Let Me Go, Veronica, Kafka on the Shore, The Thin Place, This Book Will Save Your Life, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, and The Keep.

In 2007, I'm not going to hold myself to the 50 book goal, but am going to attempt to read as many as I can of the books that I already own but have not yet read. There are many--probably 50 or so--that stand as a testament to my little book-buying problem. I do go to the library weekly, so I'm sure I'll pick up other things along the way, but hopefully by the end of 2007 I will have made a serious dent in the "yet to read" shelf. I'm also going to keep blogging as I go, so stay tuned, if you are so inclined.

52. Give Us A Kiss--Daniel Woodrell

I so enjoyed Winter's Bone (see below), that I set out to read another Woodrell forthwith. In Give Us A Kiss: A Country Noir, Doyle Redmond, a published but unknown author, leaves California in a Volvo stolen from his unfaithful wife, to return to his native Missouri. He sees his parents who dispatch him to find his brother, Smoke, and to convince him to turn himself in on outstanding arrest warrants in Kansas City. Doyle finds Smoke deep in the woods near their hometown of West Table, in the Missouri Ozarks along the Arkansas border, cultivating a cash crop of marijuana. Needing money to finish his next novel, Doyle pitches in on tending and harvesting the crop, a dangerous job due to a long-standing feud between the Redmonds and another hillbilly family. The perhaps autobiographical Give Us a Kiss is both more country and more noir than Winter's Bone. Woodrell's use of language is rougher and the plot is grittier and bloodier. But, I am more convinced after reading Give Us A Kiss, that Woodrell is doing something unlike any other current author in telling heretofore untold tales of the harsh realities of life in contemporary rural America. Brilliant, albeit disturbing.

51. The Keep--Jennifer Egan

I was really surprised by The Keep. I had read several glowing reviews and thought I knew what I was getting into. A story about two cousins, bound by a traumatic childhood event, who reunite as adults to renovate a decrepit castle in Eastern Europe. I also read that there was a parallel story, which I thought was about the childhood event. But I was all wrong. The parallel stories (which, following in the footsteps of those reviews, I won't give away) are much more disparate. The Keep is one of those novels where seemingly dissimilar characters and stories are brought together by the end of the book, and I must admit, I love those, especially when done well. And Egan does it well. I also loved the unusual Gothic feel. Overall, a well-structured, surprising read.

50. The Name of the Rose--Umberto Eco

I have owned a copy of The Name of the Rose for probably fifteen years, and I intended to read it many, many times, but my perception of it as an uber-intellectual novel kept me at a distance until now. Set in an Italian monastery in the fourteenth century, The Name of the Rose is both a murder mystery and a lesson in the history of the late medieval papacy. Mysterious deaths have occurred at the monastery and William of Baskerville, an English monk and scholar, is called by the abbot to lead an inquiry into the crimes in the hopes that he will find the killer or killers before the Pope's upcoming visit. William discovers that the murders involve the monastery's renowned but secret library and one book in particular so powerful that it leads to murder. The second storyline tells of the controversy within the medieval church between the wealthy church leadership and some of the monastic orders who pledged themselves to poverty. The two stories are told in alternate chapters. The chapters involving William's inquiry are page turners, and the chapters on the church controversy are, frankly, hard to get through, making the book something of a difficult read, but an excellent refresher in medieval history. Overall, the intrigue of the mystery kept me going and I really should challenge myself more with denser works like this one.

49. Winter's Bone--Daniel Woodrell

Ree Dolly's father put up his family home and property in the rural Ozarks for bail on a meth charge. When he misses his court date, sixteen-year-old Ree, who is responsible for her two younger brothers and her mentally ill mother, must find him before the bondsman takes the family home, so she goes on a quest into the seedy underbelly of the bucolic Midwestern ideal. Woodrell tells of a world unknown to most of us, where families who have lived on the same land for generations still hunt to put food on the table and who make their money cooking crystal meth, the modern equivalent of moonshine. I grew up in the Missouri Ozarks, but I did not know an Ozarks like the one in Winter's Bone. Woodrell's use of language is incredible; the characters speak an antiquated and un-evolved English that is unlike anything I have ever heard or read, and this dialect seeps into the third person narrative, creating an utterly unique literary hybrid. Winter's Bone is one of the best books I've read this year and is at the top of my all-time favorites list. Great stuff.

Click here for an interesting article on Woodrell in the Riverfront Times.

48. Moral Disorder--Margaret Atwood

Moral Disorder is a life told in stories (interestingly, quite similar in format to The Company She Keeps, reviewed below). In the first, Nell, the connective character, is a girl of eleven, knitting a layette for her mother's late-in-life baby. In the last, Nell cares for her dying mother. Atwood carries the reader through important passages in Nell's life--first love, independent young womanhood, settling down and creating home and family, downsizing, and finally caring for aging parents. Atwood exquisitely recounts the yearnings and struggles of each stage in Nell's life. This, I believe, is one of Atwood's greatest strengths as a writer--her ability to write incredibly affectingly by reminding the reader of personal and deep feelings and anxieties, but making the struggles seem at once universal and unique. Reading Atwood is a pleasure all should experience. Two enthusiastic thumbs up.

47. The Company She Keeps--Mary McCarthy

The Company She Keeps is the life of Margaret Sargeant told in short stories. Margaret, a cosmopolitan intellectual, lived a modern life in the 1930s as a single career woman with many interests, experiences, and lovers. I was struck most by the vibrant intellectual world portrayed in the novel. If you were an intellectual you were a Marxist and real debate was had on the various strains of Marxism and their political application in a period when communism still held promise. McCarthy has a distinctive voice that feels modern even today. This, McCarthy's first novel was controversial at its publication for its frank and open discussion of sex. But within that discussion, the work is also a cautionary tale. Margaret lived a fast life, twice married, and by the last story, she is marginalized as a childless, depressed woman. I really enjoyed The Company She Keeps and look forward to reading McCarthy's more popular and acclaimed works, The Group, and Memories of a Catholic Girlhood.

100 Notable Books of 2006

The end-of-year making of lists is at once ridiculous (contrived, so subjective, and rarely comprehensive) and compelling (like a little, neatly-tied package). Regardless of your take on the practice, the time for end-of-year lists is upon us starting with the New York Times's publication of its annual list of 100 notable books of the year. I have read only 3 of the novels--Absurdistan, Arthur & George, and Terrorist--and none of the non-fiction. Of the books that came out this year that I have read, (only 6 or 7) I think Daniel Woodrell's Winter's Bone (review coming soon) deserved to make the list, but I am most certainly biased in favor of my fellow Missourian.

• I'm looking forward to reading: The Keep (I've been on the library's wait list for ages! Please, someone, return it!), Eat the Document, and The Inheritance of Loss.

• My curiosity is piqued by: Intuition, One Good Turn, Suite Francaise, and The Uses of Enchantment.

• I will not be reading: Against the Day (I've successfully avoided Pynchon thus far--why start now?), Everyman (too depressing), The Road (too masculine), The Emperor's Children (too annoying), and Special Topics in Calamity Physics (we're bordering on Dave Eggers and Jonathan Safran Foer hype here).

Comments on books on the list or books published this year that should have made the list?

Excused Absence

Hi all. I've been out of pocket for a few weeks due to an unforseen event, but I've been reading and will post soon on The Company She Keeps, Moral Disorder, and Winter's Bone. Hope everyone had a happy turkey day!

46. Music for Torching--A.M. Homes

Elaine and Paul are two middle-aged suburban parents who are both ridiculously unhappy: unhappy with each other, with their station in life, with their friends, their parents, even their kids. In the first pages of the book, Elaine and Paul set fire to their own house in an attempt to get out of their suburban malaise. In the aftermath of the "accident" their lives spin wildly out of control. Music for Torching is populated with bitterly unhappy, id-focused people, and it's clear that Homes finds suburbia stifling and suffocating.

I loved Homes's This Book Will Save Your Life. But where TBWSYL is eminently hopeful, Music for Torching is hopeless, and it ends with an unexpected and horrible tragedy. Despite its negative patina, I didn't hate Music for Torching, on the contrary, it was surprising and unexpected and it gave perspective on the inanity of our perceived cultural anxieties. It is indeed a mixed up world where the pain we cause ourselves distresses us more than truly tragic external harms.

45. Persepolis and Persepolis 2--Marjane Satrapi

Persepolis is a "graphic autobiography" of Marjane Satrapi's coming of age during the Iranian revolution in 1979. Satrapi's westernized parents see the revolution as a chance for change from the controlling Shah, but become fearful for their homeland as Islamic extremists take over the country. Satrapi's simple (but not simplistic) drawings beautifully capture what it was like be forced under the veil from a child's point of view. The story ends with Satrapi's parents sending her to Europe for high school for her own safety and so she might gain a progressive world view not possible in oppressive Iran.

In Persepolis 2, Satrapi relates her life in Europe, and later of her return to Iran in the late 1980s. It is quite different in tone from Persepolis. While Persepolis is informed by the larger story of the revolution, Persepolis 2 is much more introspective and tells of Satrapi's self-focused adolescence. As a reader, you want to believe that because of the hardships she came through, she wouldn't fall prey to typical adolescent vices, but she does, and therein becomes a part of the western world. I am reluctant to pass judgment upon her though, because how on earth would I have fared having been removed from my home to fend for myself for four years from the age of 14? Not well. Overall, both books are excellent, and although short, manage to relate quite a lot about the recent political history of Iran. Oh, Persepolis was also a book club pick--good choice Katrina and Kate!

In my own state . . .

This from Critical Mass on Marshall, Missouri, banning Alison Bechdel's Fun Home from its local library, considering it pornography. Personally, the most affecting panel in the book was one depicting the truck that hit and killed her father. I'm sure that a graphic novel in which a man and a woman kiss would be just fine, you know, encouraging heterosexual values and all. I've seen more lurid drawings in X-Men comics. Sheesh.

44. The Robber Bride--Margaret Atwood

I'm becoming more technically savvy, so now you can judge a book by its cover, if you are so inclined.

How is it possible for a mere mortal like me to describe a work of Margaret Atwood? Her prose is superb and she can craft a story, but her brilliance to me is her ability to include feminist themes and ideas in thought-provoking ways. The Robber Bride is the story of three middle-aged female friends whose common bond is past experience with a hateful and destructive woman, Zenia, who lied to, stole from, and cheated each of them. When Zenia reappears after a number of years, each character recounts the pain Zenia caused and vows that she will not deceive and manipulate again. Feminism informs all of Atwood's work (see The Handmaid's Tale), and here Atwood questions the "evil" woman most of us have experienced. What breaks up the sisterhood? Are women our own worst enemies?* This one will have you thinking.

*A shoutout to Sarah for her insightful comments on the book!

43. A Long Way Down--Nick Hornby

Four distraught Londoners meet atop "Toppers House" on New Years Eve, each intending not to see the new year. They manage to talk each other out of jumping and make a pact to meet again on Valentine's Day. A number of odd adventures ensue and by the end, each of the four, with group support, make positive changes in their lives. That retelling of the basic plot makes it seem so contrived, and it is rather far-fetched. In less capable hands the story could have been a disaster, but for Hornby it works. You believe that these four people who would never have met under other circumstances, do help each other through difficult times. The story is recounted by each individual and Hornby deftly uses the form to quite hilarious results, despite the somber circumstances under which the characters meet. Overall, a light and entertaining read.

42. A Disorder Peculiar to the Country--Ken Kalfus

The reader meets Joyce and Marshall, an NYC couple enduring an acrimonious divorce, on the morning of September 11, 2001. Each believes that the other fell victim to the terrorist attacks and each is secretly relieved. But both survive, and the divorce continues against a post-9/11 backdrop as the traumas of the attacks are played out against the traumas of the divorce.

Kalfus knows of anger. He writes of the self-destructive lengths to which people will go in order to perpetuate animosity. This is not an uplifting novel, but an interesting one in that it explores fear and anger on levels societal, individual, and relational.

41. The Dog of the Marriage--Amy Hempel

The Dog of the Marriage is a superb little book of short stories. Amy Hempel's elegant and evocative prose is like poetry. Here is an example:

"I see the viewfinder swing wide across the lawn, one of those panning shots you always find in movies, where the idea is to get everybody in the audience ready for what will presently be revealed--but only if everybody will just be very very good, and very very patient, and will wait, with perfect hope, for the make-believe story to unfold."

I'm looking forward to picking up another of her collections.

40. Prodigal Summer--Barbara Kingsolver

**Book Club Pick** I believe I'm becoming a crotchety old woman because I didn't really like this one either. To save time, here are the elements of the plot: three women, moths, coyotes, chestnut trees, and the mountains of Kentucky. Prodigal Summer is a very well-structured novel. The stories of the three women are intertwined just enough for the parallels of their lives to be obvious but not overt, and their stories aren't wrapped up too neatly, which always bothers me.

As for plot, though, I'm reminded of the Catherine MacKinnon essay where she talks about the two dominant approaches to feminism as being like point and counter-point in a chorale, with the sopranos singing, "we are the same, we are the same" and the altos singing "we are different, we are different," and neither one of them getting anywhere, and neither one sufficient in explaining the practical problems women face. Prodigal Summer is clearly in the "we are different" camp.

Weird. As I'm writing this, though, I'm realizing that Kingsolver had this whole emphasis on biological/gender determinism, but the three main characters were involved in very masculine pursuits and were faced with their own biology as outside of their experiences in the novel. Crap, she's not in the "we are different" camp, she's in both camps. We totally should have discussed this at book club . . .

39. Absurdistan--Gary Shteyngart

Misha Vainberg, an obese melancholic, is the son of the 1,238th wealthiest man in Russia. Stuck in St. Petersburg, unable to return to the New York City he yearns for, Misha goes to the struggling former Soviet republic of Absurdistan hoping to obtain a doctored Belgian passport, and gets stuck in the middle of a civil war.

I didn't love this satire. I just didn't find funny the parts of American culture that Shteyngart skewers, because they are so disturbing. That American cultural exports are hip-hop, designer jeans, and perfume stores, just doesn't strike me as funny, and the idea that non-Americans struggle to obtain these things while being unable to feed themselves is not something to make fun of, but something to be ashamed of. We are a rich, obese, self-centered nation. Is our only legacy unbridled materialism? God help us.

38. Kingdom Coming--Michelle Goldberg

As I said earlier, The Ruins was pretty scary, but by far the most frightening book I've read recently is Michelle Goldberg's Kingdom Coming. Goldberg explains the theology behind the political movement she dubs "Christian nationalism," and how a small group of important players within evangelical Christianity are working to turn America into a theocracy. Make no mistake, the people to whom she refers seek nothing short of dominion. They have created a revisionist history where separation of church and state is a myth. In their world view, science is expendable and discrimination in the name of God is not only acceptable, but encouraged. Goldberg makes the point that Christian nationalists are far from becoming a political majority, and in fact don't even represent the majority of Christians, but they have been able to use a series of political wedge issues to get their chosen candidates (exclusively Republicans) elected. Kingdom Coming does get a bit heavy-handed in its comparisons between Christian nationalism and Nazism, but some of the quotes from Hannah Arendt's The Origins of Totalitarianism are chilling. Anyone who values a tolerant society should read this book.

37. Mockingbird--Charles J. Shields

Charles J. Shields wrote this biography of Nelle Harper Lee without ever speaking to her--she refused. So, he interviewed hundreds of people who knew her throughout the years and used those observations to fashion a story of how To Kill a Mockingbird came to be and why Lee never wrote another book. He dispels the myth that Truman Capote wrote or at least contributed to TKAM, and emphasizes Lee's contribution to Capote's In Cold Blood.

Mockingbird received a number of bad reviews. There was a consensus that Shields spent too much time on unnecessary background detail, and that it was a mistake to write the book without talking to Lee. I agree to a certain extent; the picture of Lee is still a bit blurry. But to his credit, Shields anticipated this criticism. In the introduction he lamented his inability to speak to Lee herself, but stated that he wanted to go forward with the book so that he might have the opportunity to talk to many of Lee's contemporaries while they were still alive. A bit morbid, perhaps, but I appreciate Shield's efforts. Who doesn't want to know more about the elusive Harper Lee? Overall, the book sheds much light on the environment that brought about TKAM, although it doesn't successfully answer the question of why Lee never wrote another book. Still, I enjoyed it a great deal.

36. The Ruins--Scott Smith

Two young American couples on a three week vacation in Mexico spend days on the beach and evenings getting drunk. They meet a trio of Greeks and a German and decide it might be fun to explore some nearby ruins. Then things start to get ugly. And creepy. I won't give any more detail in case you want to read this, because its best moments are in figuring out what you don't know.

I'm not opposed to the horror genre; I've had my moments with Stephen King. I picked this one specifically because Smith's A Simple Plan (made into a movie starring Billy Bob Thornton, Bill Paxton, and Bridget Fonda) is considered a cult classic by some. The first half of The Ruins was quite suspenseful, and I kept thinking it was building up to something really scary, but then the plot lost steam for me. The suspenseful turns weren't exciting enough, the story dragged, and some of the parts that were supposed to be scary seemed ridiculous. Maybe I should have read it in one sitting. I don't know. The bigger problem for me, though, is that the novel reads like a screenplay. I'm sure it will make a decent horror film, but as a reader, I felt shortchanged. It was scary enough, however, to keep me up for about twenty minutes after I normally would have fallen asleep. That's something.

35. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince--J.K. Rowling

Devastating . . .

34. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix--J.K. Rowling

Harry, now in his fifth year at Hogwart's, deals with the Ministry of Magic's refusal to accept the inevitable in the form of Dolores Umbridge who joins the faculty at Hogwart's and makes life for the students unbearable.

33. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep--Philip K. Dick

I am not normally a reader of science fiction, but a good friend has recommended Philip K. Dick numerous times, and I decided to give him a try. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep is a perplexing novel that raises many questions and, frustratingly, answers none. So, here's what I got from the book, it is probably wildly incorrect mind you, but here goes. We as humans have methods of differentiating ourselves from each other, inter alia, by appearance, by association, by intellect, and we have developed a complex set of justifications for unequal treatment based on these perceived differences. We use religion as part of the justification, which makes religion false, but necessary. Both the presence and absence of nature remind us of our manufactured criteria, and alienate us from our true selves. As a result, we trust nothing and no one. Pretty bleak, I know, but I have yet to read of a post-apocalyptic utopia. This is heady stuff, and if you are prone to searching for deeper meaning, this book could send you into a tailspin. Read it with caution.

32. The Man of My Dreams--Curtis Sittenfeld

The Man of My Dreams tells the story of Hannah Gavener, the child of an ugly marriage, as she matures and sets out to meet the title man of her dreams. Hannah's family issues, low self-esteem, and misjudgment of others lead to ups and downs in her romantic life.

I loved Prep, Curtis Sittenfeld's debut novel that met with much critical success, including being named by the New York Times as one of the 10 best books of 2005. So, I was looking forward to reading The Man of My Dreams, despite its chick lit title. Although I wasn't disappointed in TMoMD, part of what made Prep so wonderful to me was missing from TMoMD. Both novels were told from the perspective of sensitive, introspective young women, but Prep, set at a tony boarding school, and told by a middle-class outsider, provided a great deal of social commentary on wealth and privilege that had broader implications than the limited setting. Sittenfeld is brilliant at internal dialogue and she's one to watch out for in the future. But, if you're looking to read something from her, I definitely recommend Prep over this one.

31. The Namesake--Jhumpa Lahiri

Gogol Ganguli begins life without a name. In Bengali tradition, he was to be named by his great grandmother, who sent a letter bearing his name from Calcutta to his parents in Boston, but the letter never arrived. The hospital wouldn't allow baby boy Ganguli to leave without a name, so his parents gave him the informal name Gogol, after the author whose works had great meaning for his father. Before he starts school, his parents finally pick a formal name for him, Nikhil, but his kindergarten teacher insists on calling him Gogol, and the name sticks, despite his parents wishes. As he matures, the ambivalence he feels about his unusual and distinctly non-Indian name reflects his complex, mercurial feelings toward his family and heritage.

The Namesake is primarily a story of a child of immigrants trying to find his place within American society, but more broadly, it is a universal story of personal independence in the face of family expectations. Lahiri, winner of the 2000 Pulitzer Prize for fiction for her short story collection, The Interpreter of Maladies, has a gentle and distinctive literary voice. All in all, an enjoyable read.

30. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire--J.K. Rowling

The first three books of the series are, for the most part, light-hearted and sweet, but it's getting darker in the wizard world. Forces are aligning. Serious things are happening to Harry. He's growing up and is starting to realize his power. What evil lurks around the next corner?

29. This Book Will Save Your Life--A.M. Homes

This Book Will Save Your Life begins with Richard Novak, a wealthy Los Angeleno, having a health scare that sends him to the emergency room. The trauma causes Richard to look at the world and his outward success differently and he begins to make connections with the people he encounters--the man who sells him donuts, a woman he sees crying in the produce section, a neighbor he had never talked to--and with the people that he has spent a great deal of his adult life trying to avoid--his parents, his brother, his ex-wife, and the son he abandoned. By trying to pay just a bit more attention to what is going on around him, Richard's life changes dramatically.

I loved this book--one of my favorites of this year so far. It's quirky, has a weird title, but is unexpectedly uplifting. It makes you believe that small changes of perception can lead to big experiences. My highest recommendation.

28. A Girl Named Zippy--Haven Kimmel

**Book Club Pick** A Girl Named Zippy is the perfect summer read--quick, light, and funny. Haven Kimmel sweetly relates stories of her family and of an outstanding cast of supporting characters (and animals) in tiny Mooreland, Indiana in the 1970s. The tales feature the innocence and poignance of childhood lessons learned and the unconditional love of family. Overall, an uplifting memoir.

27. Terrorist--John Updike

I probably wouldn't have read Terrorist right away (it was released at the beginning of June) except that I walked into the library at the exact moment Charles (World's Greatest Librarian) was first putting it out on the shelf. It's my first Updike experience. I'm also not sure I would recognize his literary superiority from only this read. It is well-written, no doubt, but the characters, once introduced, play predictable roles, and you can pretty accurately predict the climax of the story from just looking at the cover. However, to me, this work is significant because Updike has touched on something all but ignored post-9/11. Namely, to attempt to understand what about our culture is held to be so detestable by those who wish us harm. Instead, we puffed out our chests, said "thanks, but no thanks" to the rest of the world, and set upon a course that may lead to truly disastrous consequences for our nation. No leadership encouraged introspection; instead we were told to go out and spend. These two responses reinforce what is already loathsome about us. Now, I'm not saying that we shouldn't be proud as a nation, that we should go about collectively mea culpaing. But pride, hubris, that isn't tempered with a little humility, compassion, and understanding is a dangerous thing. You might want to reference your favorite Greek tragedy if you need a reminder. I don't know if Updike intended all of what I got out of the book. But I do think that he was motivated by an attempt to understand the mentality of this hatred, and this is an obvious strength of the work.