The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky

William E. Elston, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (Self at 17 Yrs.), 1983

(November 5) Although it uses all the popular components of YA (teen) novels I’ve read lately -- the standard suicide, sexual abuse, confusion about sexual identity and an abortion -- it isn't a totally predictable book, and that's a redeeming feature.

Charlie is more than just a compendium of all the teen traits... he does have them all, but he’s really endearing. So the novel is quite likable overall.

But there's big question for me at the end: who is Charlie writing to? Apparently I am not alone, for this is a highly googled question surrounding the novel. No one has a convincing answer. Many suggest "you, the reader" ...which is... ::sigh::

A mystery set up as tantalizingly as this one should offer a clue to a satisfying answer... even multiple satisfying answers would be fine..."satisfying" is the operative idea here.

I liked Charlie's definition of a good movie: "you feel different afterward." Agree.

Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn

Buddy Nestor, Jana Brike, 2010

(September 30) So, so good. Inhaled this. First book I’ve read in a long time that made me want to call in sick to work in order to stay home and read it.

Very twisty and turny, not unlike Fingersmith -- but here the pleasure was in knowing that a surprise was coming ...or many surprises were coming... or maybe they weren’t! It was that kind of clever book. The hints that cast suspicions are so broad that you know there will be some kind of undercutting of that.... but there could also very well not be!

Psychological thriller, though, rather than just con-man gaming, as with Fingersmith.

Such acute observations of the difficulties that can arise in marriage.

I loved it but then read reviews at the Jezebel book club and had to agree that the last part is not as satisfying as the first... possibly because Flynn could not devote a proportionate amount to time to the denouement as she did to the set-up. Most everyone can come up with an ending clever enough to match the beginning, so Flynn could have, too... but she probably didn’t want to waste two brilliant ideas on only one novel.

But I really loved it and (maybe until I read the negative reviews) I was willing to forgive Flynn for copping out a bit on the ending.

I want to read more Flynn... apparently, there are two others: Sharp Objects and Dark Places.

The Limpopo Academy of Private Detection, Alexander McCall Smith

Chidi Okoye, Images of Face Series 27, 2005

(September 6) I really liked it. Ultimately, McCall Smith doesn’t disappoint, though I have complained about a little grinding in the past. 

A lot more happens in these later books than in the first few -- now people’s lives are really in jeopardy -- there are serious crises to avert. Still, it all remains so cozy and likable. There were several sweet scenes between Phuti and Mma Makutsi, e.g.

It was interesting, or an interesting premise, to have the Clovis Andersen twist... but I don’t think the talking shoes are as funny as McCall Smith thinks they are, and so on.

Finding Ultra: Rejecting Middle Age, Becoming One of the World's Fittest Men, and Discovering Myself, Rich Roll

(August 11) Got this because of Judy Aldridge’s comments on Atlantis Home... both there and on the Amazon website, the book comes off as a mid-life crisis thing... as if the author had been an average Joe who re-invented himself as an elite athlete... the Amazon intro says: “incredible-but-true account of achieving one of the most awe-inspiring mid-life physical transformations ever.”

So I thought this would be interesting because the person would have discovered the same thing I have -- that you can get stronger in middle (and older) age. You don’t have to get weak. But that’s not what it is at all -- Roll was never an average Joe -- he was an elite athlete as a youth and young man, then succumbed to alcoholism for a decade or so.

Mind you, when he brings himself back to health and fitness, he is healthier and more fit than he ever was in his youth, and he did it all as a vegan... which is pretty amazing. But basically he’s an extreme guy. Everything he’s done has been done extremely.

So not quite the narrative I expected... and, really, the point of the book is to get you interested in the endurance-training vegan products Roll sells. Kind of an extended commercial for those things. (He’s creating his muse, à la the Four-Hour Work Week guy, whom he mentions, although he doesn't hint that he’s setting up a "muse.")

Still, it was an interesting story and he’s competent at telling it... there’s a familiar formula with these kinds of books -- a series of detailed highlights from nadirs or zeniths on the journey, then background filled in. But it was fine, not annoying.

And this is the first time I've ever found veganism appealing. He makes it so. Kudos there. He made me want to eat more healthily, and to try coconut water and almond milk.

He did not make me want to take up endurance sports at all.

The Hundred Dresses, Erin McKean

Donna Mehalko, The Breakfast at Tiffany's, 2013

(July 24) I already like the author and have followed her blog A Dress a Day for years, because she talks very entertainingly about dresses, and it’s a huge subject. There’s a lot of interesting engineering and physics in the making and wearing of dresses, not to mention the fascinating threads of history, philosophy, cultural anthropology and art woven into them.

A Dress a Day hits all those notes and more, just as you might expect from a lexicographer, and is by times funny, uplifting, poignant and wise, just as you do expect from a good writer.

This book gives McKean a chance to talk about dresses in terms of a Big Theme, and she does make the most of it. At first, you might think there can’t be 100 different modern dresses, and even if you created such a listicle you'd swear there couldn’t be a great deal one could say about each them, but very soon you realize McKean had to leave out many iconic dresses and you wish she'd had room to go on and on about some of them.

I liked the book because McKean is an entertaining writer, but I probably really liked it because it is a species of feminist manifesto: “Here are 100 different kinds of interesting women and what they wanted to think and do... and, oh, yeah, btw, here’s what they wore.” It is much more than a look at fashion.

The illustrations by Donna Mehalko are amazing -- she nails the essence of each dress with just a few spare strokes.

Remarkable Creatures: A Novel, Tracy Chevalier

Mary Anning With Her Dog Tray and the Golden Cap Outcrop in the Background, Natural History Museum, London, by an unknown artist, dated before 1842

(July 13) Recommended by Andrea -- she quite liked this author after reading Girl With a Pearl Earring and pursuing all her other work. She really, really liked this book.

I liked this book, too, but my initial enthusiasm for it began to dwindle as I realized it was a fiction based on real-life characters rather than a fiction "just borrowing" from real-life miscellanea. These “recreations” of real people’s lives rarely sit well with me... I'm bothered by the strain to hit all the notes in the historical figure’s Wikipedia page and the pointlessness of imagining “what might have happened” to this real person, which usually involves giving them all kinds of sexual preoccupations (because those are interesting to readers).

If you really are inspired by a real life, just plagiarize it and write a full-blown fiction, fergawdsake. What is the advantage of the half-fake?

On the other hand, there is a bit of a history lesson here -- you learn some history in a palatable way. But when I realize that's the intention, I resent it; it detracts from a book for me. Note to authors: please hide your condescension. At the same time, it is a terrible shame that Mary Anning’s importance was never a proper part of history before now. The book is a redress of an injury.

But, basically, this is like Mistress of Nothing, in that a real life is “imagined” using a lot of “true facts” so that it all seems more credible.

Though Chevalier is a very competent writer, I was disappointed by a few choices in this book. For example, she had a character describing the way So-and-So “peppered the world with” something or other (papers or dogma or such like). I doubt people of the the early 19th century used that expression that way. The same character explains a problem by mentioning the “tensions between” two groups of people. Again, a modern turn of phrase, probably incoherent to a 1824 ear. These two incidents were quite close together and coming from the same character, so maybe that’s part of the issue, but it was a bit jarring -- elsewhere Chevalier tries to mimic an early-19th-century habit of expression. Note to authors: be faithful to the speech patterns of your historical period consistently or be consistently unfaithful, one or the other.

Chevalier also sort of undermined the charm of Jane Austen novels for me by parodying a bit of Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth from Persuasion.... and then, in case we didn’t get that reference, she fully spells out the possibility that Mary Anning's real life might have been a Jane Austen novel. Because Lyme Regis! Because 1820s!

So, yecch, I felt bit condescended to and lectured at -- over-guided --, and at the same time the discovering-fossils material was enjoyable and made me interested in the real-life person (not unlike The Mistress of Nothing). Grudging respect.

The Forgotten Affairs of Youth, Alexander McCall Smith

Jack Vettriano, Temptress, 2008

(May 23) Alas, these books are over too fast, this one in particular.

The concept is entering its Golden Age now.

The No. 1 Ladies' Detective series was my first love ...this series I read just to kill time in between... but now I find I am liking this series better.

This installment offers many lovely interweaving streams; there’s excellent tangentializing by Isabel; and Izz wasn’t disagreeable with anyone, really.

Garden Spells, Sarah Addison Allen

(May 16) This was mentioned on Gertie’s sewing blog... she was making a white eyelet sundress because of the references to white eyelet dresses in this book (in fact, a white eyelet sundress is mentioned only once and clothing in general maybe three other times, max... so, huh?).

But it was a New York Times Best Seller... and easy to get from the libraries.

Odd combo of Ya-Ya Sisterhood, Like Water for Chocolate, and the Bill-and-Nancy plotline in Oliver Twist (but without the death... so not as odd as it could have been).

Written cheerfully, so easy to read... the points of view lurch around a lot, though, and the plot combo **is** very odd... so I can’t say I loved it, but it was likable. I need a 2.25 rating.

This author gets “Enchanting” and “Magical” from her cover-blurbers, and that is very accurate cover-blurbing.

The Shack, Wm. Paul Young

(May 11) I got this out of the library because I thought it was sci-fi, and it was, after all, a “New York Times bestseller.” Why not give it a try?

When I realized what it was -- a modern-Christian version of a Consolation of Philosophy or Divine Comedy (man talks to God and gets things clearly explained and allegorized) -- I just kept reading it, because ...how often am I going to get that?

The Amazon reviews are strongly and extremely divided (as with Twilight reviews) but even those who give it 5 stars make a point of acknowledging the “poor writing.” It’s really cheesy, but I wouldn’t say the writing is “poor.” It’s C+ writing. I don’t think you should confuse writing and content. Yes, the content is poor.

What I found really off-putting was a rumour I read somewhere that the real spiritual crisis that sparked Young’s vision of Christianity was an extramarital affair (all the other details of the story being autobiographical). Though a rumour, it sounds true -- it would explain some of the guilt and shame “Mack” seems to need, strangely, to expiate, and it would explain why the story of the loss of the child is so unconvincing. It sickens that he tried to fake up a story of the abduction and murder of a child to drive his point home while keeping it “autobiographical.” It’s an insult to parents who have actually experienced this, and at least one Amazon reviewer said he had turned to this book looking for comfort because he had endured that tragedy in real life. The extra-marital affair would have been a much more interesting, because honest, story.

So, shame on you, Paul Young, for being so contriving with your heartfeltedness.

Writing the Revolution, Michele Landsberg

Vanessa Beecroft, VB 52, 2003

(April 30, 2013) I am so retroactively impressed with Michele Landsberg. This woman did a great job -- both originally when she wrote these columns in the ‘70s, ‘80s and ‘90s and was living the revolution, and again when she compiled this historical review. The book is the perfect blend of at-the-moment engagement with women’s issues and philosophical overview of suffrage afterwards.

Some of the issues are absolutely timeless -- her columns on women’s right to abortion feel like they were written yesterday. I was so riveted reading one of them once I missed my bus stop by two stops.

Actually, it was kind of unsettling to realize how necessary some of these hoary old protests were and still are.

Ai yi yi, it is so tiresome to undo the hatred and greed of 130,000 years of male-dominated human civilization, but clearly the will and the talent to complete the job is out there, and it will eventually happen.

Bejeweled: Great Designers, Celebrity Style, Marion Fasel and Penny Proddow

Joel Arthur Rosenthal, "Mogol" Flower Bracelet, 1987

(April 25) Beautiful, beautiful photos.

No organizing principle, really. The subtitle is “Great Designers, Celebrity Style,” and the book does cover those things, but with no apparent goal in mind. Research is thrown in randomly. You get the feeling there was a desire to do a scholarly inventory of 20th-century jewelry designers, but there was also a desire to gawp at celebrity jewelry -- and the two desires are not harmonized in any way.

It’s a testament to the importance of an organizing principle -- it’s hard to remember information when it’s not clear why and how it matters. I had to reread many passages again and again to understand why they were there. The research was interesting... but evanescent.

The big (beautiful) photos contributed to the disjointedness. The editors allowed the insertion of multiple pages of photo plates (with long cutlines) into the middles of sentences throughout the whole book. This made it very tricky to read.

Other signs of careless editing: at least three proofing errors.

The Book Thief, Markus Zusak

Alice, Little Paper Girl, 2010

(March 26) My biggest question about this book, an issue that puzzled me right from the beginning: Why is it categorized as Young Adult fiction? (It turns out it was a deliberate decision by the international publishers, who put a lot of faith in Zusak’s established reputation... but it is completely incorrectly categorized.)

 I liked it -- it is impossible not to be drawn in by the subject matter (being persecuted by Nazis; hiding a Jewish refugee) -- but didn’t love it enough to read it quickly. It certainly makes a good case in defense of the Germans who “allowed” Nazism to survive and thrive. They were already suffering enough loss and privation -- for the vast majority, the few precious people they had left were worth sacrificing everything else for, worth putting up with any kind of idiocy.

Recommended by Andrea, who was blown away by the persona of the narrator, and by the way he “spoiled” the events that were about to occur. This set-up seemed an old chestnut to me, and I’m not sure it added anything, though it wasn’t a drawback. ::shrug::

The Scottish Prisoner, Diana Gabaldon

Albert Kretschmer (1825-91), English and Scottish dress, 18th century

(January 25) I used to think of this series as "Claire and Jamie," but now I'm thinking of it as "John and Jamie."

I'm kidding.

I liked it just as much as I always like Gabaldon's books. They're rich and vivid, even if they do cause you to eye-roll a little bit every once in a while.

Letters From Egypt, Lucie Duff Gordon (edited by Gordon Waterfield)

Henry Wyndham Phillips, Lucie, Lady Duff Gordon, 1851

(October 23, 2012) This was just delightful -- to experience Egypt through Duff Gordon’s eyes -- to learn to share her love of Arabs... I loved the charming, charming Arabs and now want them to rule the world.

Lucie Duff Gordon herself seems to have been wonderful -- everyone about her clearly loved her (except for her stupid-seeming husband. Very odd.).

Strange disorientation arises because this was written in Victorian times and is exotically located: sometimes LDG will tell a story and make a comment and you don’t get it at all. You can’t tell whether she’s being humorous, insightful, reproving or what. It’s cultural disorientation, I guess, and the very Victorian style.

Took me a long time to read this, possibly because unconsciously I wanted to defer the conclusion... obviously, the further you went in the book, the closer to LDG’s death you were.

This made me want to read more about and by Caroline Norton, and LDG’s Amber Witch.

Sloppy Firsts, Megan McCafferty

DragoArt.com, How to Draw Gerard Way, My Chemical Romance

(November 24) I ended up liking this, but things did not start well. The close parallels to Spoiled were off-putting, (1) because it felt (retroactively) like the Fug Girls were maybe plagiarists as well as lazy and (2) because I had plot fatigue over stories of teen girls who react badly to tragedies, screw themselves up, then get redeemed (via twoo wuv).

But about five-eighths of the way through, Sloppy Firsts suddenly became quite captivating and compelling, mostly because of an interesting boy who sails in and steals our heroine’s heart out of the blue, and who is about as anti-hero as you can get. So that was original and compensatory.

But will I go on to read the rest of the (five-book) series? No, I will not. In the end, Jess, the heroine, the first-person narrator, is just not that compelling to me.

The main thing about this reading experience was that it confirmed an uneasy sense I had that I can't trust the taste of a certain someone who often recommends books. She raves about certain books, such as this series, and gets me all excited. Alas, I have tried four different recommendations from her without sharing any of her rhapsody over them. They were all “OK,” but not rave-worthy for me.

So this is good-bye, L.... on the book-recommendation front, anyway.

The Night Circus, Erin Morgenstern

Gabriele Iuvara, "Las Fura dels Baus in Dreams In Flight"

(November 12) Liked it a lot at first... it’s very rich visually... and pretty original... you don’t know where this concept’s going to go because it plays by its own rules... would make a lovely movie if they could recreate all the visuals... fun and compelling... imagery is amazing.

But

The concept never does go anywhere... the whole thing is conducted as though it’s a lot more profound than it actually is... it was disappointing that Morgenstern didn’t know fundamentals about Victorian or Edwardian life (for example, single ladies didn’t run into gentlemen on the street and then stop to have glasses of wine with them in little establishments) even though she took the trouble to set the whole thing in the late 1890s, early 1900s....

The novel does contain writing such as “holding her empty glass of champagne” …which was painful.... and I didn’t even notice all the passages mocked (gently but hilariously) by Amazon reviewers.

So it was a strange reading experience... "wondrous" morphing into "ridiculous" before your eyes.

Lucie Duff Gordon: A Passage to Egypt, Katherine Frank

Jean André Rixens, The Death of Cleopatra, 1874

(October 19) I want to give this high marks because of my great interest in the subject matter (The Mistress of Nothing was meh as fiction, but I could tell the source was fascinating). This biography was fine but I kept waiting and hoping for "the good stuff" and suddenly Lucie's life was over. And she wasn't re-animated at all -- she was still viewed from a distance by a third party. I wanted her to be more reverse-engineered than she was. I suppose (I hope!) I will meet the living Lucie Duff Gordon in the things she actually wrote.

Katherine Frank's search for Lucie Duff Gordon's story produced all kinds of huge mystical parallels with Lucie's life and with the Egyptian-god myths, which is all very cool and everything but really has nothing to do with a biography of someone else (in my opinion). She intrudes a bit with her own life and you have to wonder if her fascination with the numinousness of her research experience played a hand in how she shaped the biography.

But I can nonetheless tell that Lucie's was an interesting life.

Note on the plot choices in The Mistress of Nothing: it's so obvious to me why "Lucie" was harsh with "Sally" -- why didn't Pullinger see this? Or was it too obvious and boring? Or is there no way to work such a thing into a first-person narrative???

Spoiled, Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan

Pepstar, Dominique: Tonner Daphne Dimples Repaint, 2009-11

(September 14) I wanted to read this because I enjoy Cocks and Morgan's blog -- the Fug Girls have a talent for hilarious one-liners.

But I felt like this was really a draft for a screenplay -- a screenplay that would have led to a funny, semi-believable movie -- but, in the interests of time or money or whatever, the Girls decided to go with a Young Adult novel because that is I'm guessing the easiest thing to publish... and it just makes all the weird plot constraints all the weirder and more constraining, and more artificial.

Or -- maybe in an effort to do something “different” with the genre they felt they had to have all these weird strained plot points.

Basically, there is no true and deep and genuine love for the Young Adult genre here.

But there were lots of hilarious one-liners, which is what I really wanted, after all.

I agree totally with this reviewer on the technical fail of this novel.

The 4-Hour Workweek, Timothy Ferriss

Rosanne Kaloustian, Illustration for The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, 1990s (?)

(August 28) I liked reading this -- it made the idea of living like a trust-fund baby on four hours’ work a week seem totally doable, which is kind of exciting. It would be absolutely doable for someone like my brother... probably less so for someone in my situation... I really couldn’t reduce my office hours in my current job, but I suppose I could set up a “muse” (low-maintenance business that generates significant income).

Ferriss’s book is devoted equally to two topics, both how to reduce your work week and how to fill the resulting time. This seems strange to me. Why would people bother to free up their leisure time if they don’t have plans to do anything with it? I don’t need that half of the book, for sure. Did Ferriss have to pad in order to have a proper-length book?

Or maybe a "muse" is possible only if you’re the type of person who doesn’t have a busy off-hours life?

But it was fun to read anyhow.

Steve Pavlina recommended this.

The Mistress of Nothing: A Novel, Kate Pullinger

David Roberts, Luxor, Decr 1st, 1840

(August 17) I read this because it won the 2009 Governor General's Award for Fiction and I got several "live" recommendations for it... but I found it banal.

Pullinger uses a familiar device: taking up the point of view of a minor member of a cast (e.g., Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, Thomas Cromwell) of a well-known story (Hamlet, the execution of Anne Boleyn) and telling the more famous story from that point of view. I don't find Pullinger so clever with it. The book is not convincing from any standpoint -- class, time period, whatever. Sarah Waters has spoiled me forever for fictitious Victorian narrators, I guess. Sally's voice is too educated and nuanced for a girl brought up in service.

The actual historical details that spawned this "novel," the bare-bones source, are interesting, but I don't think Pullinger did much with them, and, furthermore, I don't get the feeling of having "seen something" of Victorian Egypt despite this being the time and place of the story.

However, I am now mildly enthusiastic about reading Duff Gordon's letters from Egypt, and Katherine Frank's biography of her.

Winter's Bone, Daniel Woodrell

Paul Murray, Cutshin Creek, 2008

(July 19) Really gripping. At first, I thought, “Oh, no, a raw, earthy conflict... somebody’s gonna get raped or brutally killed, or I am gonna be horrified in some unknown way.” Yet such is the talent of the writer that I couldn’t stop reading anyway. And things were a bit brutal. It’s modern hillbillies, running meth and other drugs instead of moonshine, and with all their crazy codes of honour and toughness. But again, it’s love that drives them onward and to do good and evil, and it’s their love that makes me want to keep reading about them. Also, the whole thing was like a trip to an exotic world.

The Jungle Book, Rudyard Kipling

Henri Rousseau, Surprised, 1891

(July 13) I love him (more for Kim than for this, but this was good, too). I don’t know why I never read any Kipling before; I certainly heard enough about him. I guess I thought he might be a bit clichéd, a bit jingoistic, a bit hokey. He is all these things (plus racist and imperialist), but the guy can tell a story! And every page or two he is so surprising in his style, his insight, or his plot that he takes your breath away. Like, he is a true creative. Not for nothing is he so popular and enduring.

Bossypants, Tina Fey

Jason Mecier, Tina Fey, 2010

(June 29) I heh'd at least once per paragraph and laughed out loud numerous times reading this. Very entertaining observations. I felt that I might be missing out on even more jokes because, though of course I know who she is, I never watched her on SNL or 30 Rock. Still was very entertained.

Not absolutely sure why she called it "Bossypants" since it's kind of an autobiography.

Some funny quotes:

I should have known he and I weren't going to make it when for my seventeenth birthday he gave me a box of microwave popcorn and a used battery tester. You know, to test batteries before I put them in my Walkman. Like you give someone when you're in love.

There are a lot of different opinions as to how long one should breast-feed. The World Health Organization says six months. The American Association of Pediatrics says one year is ideal. Mothering magazine suggests you nurse the child until just before his rehearsal dinner.

I have one top-notch baby with whom I am in love. It's a head-over-heels "first love" kind of thing, because I pay for everything and all we do is hold hands.

[W]henever someone says to me, "Jerry Lewis says women aren’t funny," or "Christopher Hitchens says women aren’t funny," or "Rick Fenderman says women aren’t funny... ", [I say m]y hat goes off to them. It is an impressively arrogant move to conclude that just because you don't like something, it is empirically not good. I don't like Chinese food, but I don't write articles trying to prove it doesn't exist.

The Tiger’s Wife, Téa Obreht

Milena Dragicevic, Supplicant 31, 2008

(June 17) I really, really liked this novel -- I liked the magic realism of it, a style I always associated with South America but which is nonetheless perfectly suited to this ancient part of Europe. Some very lovely myths are entwined into the narrative. I was inspired to learn a lot about the Bosnian war. Also inspired to read The Jungle Book.

How many books with “wife” in the title have I read lately?

The Notebook, Nicholas Sparks

Will Davies, Harlequin Romance cover

(May 21) OMG.

I wanted to read this because I’d heard so many mildly disparaging comparisons -- “oh, this is sentimental, like The Notebook,” or “this has same kind of blind devotion from fans as The Notebook.” I wanted to know exactly what kind of sentimental this was, or what kind of oxycontin it was. It seemed like a cultural touchstone.

But OMG it was so bad. The opening acknowledgements sounded like they were written by one of my former C students, which was very alarming.

However, the story itself was written more competently than the acknowledgements -- the expression of the ideas is quite competent, in fact. It’s just that the ideas aren’t very powerful or even interesting.

I kept waiting for something “big” to happen, but suddenly the book was over and nothing “big” had happened at all. Everything was just perfect in a Redbook magazine kind of way.

At the end we find out that Sparks based this story on his grandparents’ actual lives, and that makes you wince and think, oh that’s cute, and maybe it explains why Sparks kept everything so generic … he just didn’t want to go there about his grandparents.

But then he did go there -- or somewhere -- with several hot sex scenes. So.

And that’s all the characters do -- eat, have sex, wear nice outfits. There is nothing else going on. The “events” are like snapshots described to us -- which might be an interesting idea in the right hands, but here is just really only about the clothing, the food and the mild porn. Nothing deeper.

Maybe it made for a great movie -- I haven’t seen the movie and don’t want to now. Maybe the movie injected some life into the story... because it is a cute concept and could be really powerful... and I think the movie must be better and that that is what everybody thinks of when they think of The Notebook, because the criticisms are really mild. People have ragged on Twilight so harshly, and I think it’s superior, creatively, to The Notebook.

So either the movie is acceptable and that’s what people identify as The Notebook, or people feel bad that it’s about real-life old people and therefore let it off the hook. Maybe people see it as a blank canvas and inject their own powerful imaginations into it. I cannot otherwise account for its huge, huge popularity.

About a third of the way in, I started to think, “This is just like The Bridges of Madison County,” which is a real insult, ay. But by the end, The Notebook made The Bridges of Madison County look good. O_o

Where Angels Fear to Tread, E.M. Forster

John Singer Sargent Hylda, Almina and Conway, Children of Asher Wertheimer, 1905

(May 20) All these terrible things happen; and yet it is very funny. O_o

Silk, Alessandro Baricco, translated by Ann Goldstein

(May 13) What an amazing and powerful little book. It’s only 132 pages, but it packs the kind of wallop you might expect only from long, pretentious sagas or old masters.

And it’s written so sparingly! It’s like living in a haiku for a little while. Even though it’s a translation, the book is nothing but the plainest and most common words in English, so you suspect that in the original Italian it would also be plain, unadorned vocabulary. So it doesn’t feel like you might be missing nuances. Although with this kind of book you probably are.

The story seems completely original when you are in it, but within a few minutes of finishing it, I realized it was another form of “The Beast in the Jungle,” and a story about limerence.

Andrea (from whom I got this recommendation) thought it was like music -- the pacing, the repetitions, the flourishes -- and with this I agree.

Easy Way to Stop Smoking, Allen Carr

American Cancer Society, "Smoking Is Very Glamorous," 1972

(May 9) Well, it worked for me -- so, to be fair, I've got to give it 5 stars. I didn't particularly expect it to work, and I didn't particularly care if it worked, and it certainly didn't work right away -- but 11 days after I finished this book, I just spontaneously stopped smoking (and have remained non-smoking till now, four months later).

The "switch" flipped for me, the way the book mysteriously hints it will. I'm not sure just exactly which idea it is among all the ideas that Allen Carr drills into you that does the trick, but he does harp on some basic concepts over and over. Some of them are old chestnuts, but a couple of them were interesting new points of view for me ("a cigarette's sole function is to create the desire for the next cigarette" and "you think quitting smoking is hard because everyone tells you it's hard").

Still, none of these saws seemed transformative at the time of reading. Something unknown just kicked in after 11 days.

The Sentimentalists, Johanna Skibsrud

Jeff Greenberg, Silhouette of Man Fishing, Lake Erie, Lorain, OH

(May 2) I read this because it won the 2010 Giller Prize, but I am totally shocked that it did so.

Because it was one of these pointless wandering tales of people dealing with emotions that are never spelled out for the reader, other than to refer us to a boat or a swinging light bulb or a can of ham. How are we supposed to know what these things mean to characters when we never get to know them as other than shell-shocked?

It was like Housekeeping or Tinkers or The Patron Saint of Liars. The genre confounds me.

Lady Susan, Jane Austen

George Goodwin Kilburne (1839-1924), Penning a Letter

(April 20) I heard of this for the first time only a few weeks ago -- so glad to learn there was a Jane Austen I hadn’t read! Love her. This is great. Epistolary novel, which is such an interesting way of doing point of view.

Ah, how dull life would be without the unprincipled schemers among us.

The Thing Around Your Neck, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Bruce Onobrakpeya, Ibiebe ABC III, 2007

(April 13) I love Adichie’s voice and the way she describes Nigeria.

This is a collection of short stories, mostly about the interface of Nigerians and the U.S. (two or three are set in Nigeria only), but all are sad-sad-sad... bittersweet, really, for there is sweetness. But it’s often wives learning about husbands’ faithlessness, women being oppressed by men, everyone being oppressed by politics.

Nonetheless, I wished with each story that it would turn into a big long novel ::sigh::

The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party, The Double Comfort Safari Club, Alexander McCall Smith

Terry Kobus, Nguni - Sideways Glance

(April 4, April 17) Read these out of order -- was halfway through The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party before I realized I didn’t really remember what happened to Phuti’s foot nor that his aunt had a vendetta against Mma Makutsi. What does that say about how these books are going?

The “mysteries” are more and more Isabel Dalhousie-y every day... The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party was particularly like an Isabel story, not really about its title at all.

But I am not yet tired of these people and this scenario.

Kim, Rudyard Kipling

Edwin Lord Weeks, An Open-Air Restaurant, Lahore, 1889

(March 30) Enjoyed this book so, so much, and was totally surprised by this.

I somehow got away with never reading any Kipling till now, but you can’t help knowing who he was and what his most famous books were about. I was put off by an impression that Kipling would be sentimental and imperialist... and maybe too juvenile. But Kim was being discussed on BookCel and sounded interesting... and was easy to get... so.

I picked it up ...and was not able to put it down. There are maybe the slightest bits of sentimentality, imperialism and boys'-adventure-taleism to it, but it is not juvenile at all... and the reading experience is so rich.

First, Kim is utterly adorable and it feels like he would be no matter where or when he grew up. But, second, he is in India, which Kipling paints as this phantasmagoria, this kaleidoscope, this panorama, this feast! of vivid sights, sounds, smells, tastes and feelings, overflowing with culture and history... and drama and comedy... where people love their loved ones deeply but hide it behind amusing jokes and cheeky teasing... (A Fine Balance and A Suitable Boy do this so well, too)... it’s very endearing.

Basically, a great novel, and now I get why K. is so revered.

All the Living, C.E. Morgan

Matt Schwartz, Girl With Piano, 2008?

(March 22) Thought I got the recommendation for this from Decorno, but now I can’t find any reference to it on her blog. It was a New York Times Book Review Editors' Choice, one of the National Book Foundation's 5 Best Writers Under 35, and a finalist for the Hemingway Foundation/PEN Award for a distinguished book of fiction, and it won third place in Fiction for the Barnes & Noble Discover Award... so these may be reasons she recommended it.

I liked it a lot. It reminded me of Cool Water (backroads small lives) and Gilead (backroads community plus preachers plus American) and maybe a little Edgar Sawtelle (the wonders and beauties of farm life)... and it was so slow to start, and then over too fast. But Aloma’s choice was kind of riveting and it was never a gimme about how it would end... so that was very satisfying.

Symbolism is very, very strong -- in the weather, the scenery, the two houses, and on and on. Really sympathize with Aloma, even though she is a bit dissociated, as is Orren. They have good reasons to be.

The Zookeeper’s Wife: A War Story, Diane Ackerman

Vilhelm Dahlerup, Elephant Gate, 1901

(March 9) Really heart-warming and really scary at the same time... how did people live like that? Even though war stories were part and parcel of my childhood (TV, movies, Life magazine), it’s hard to go chapter-and-verse through the sufferings of a family you get to "know" intimately.

When I heard about this book through BookCel, I imagined it as a story of Jews and underground activists living beneath, or in, the cages of lions and elephants, having to crouch in fake caves or float under the surfaces of ponds and so on to avoid detection. But it’s really about how the Żabińskis were able to shelter people because of the large footprint and variety of buildings of a zoo. The exotic animals are long gone by the time the Żabińskis start harbouring people, and the people rarely stay in the out-buildings.

Actually, there are a lot of interesting stories about the exotic animals at the beginning, but what I found even more interesting and touching -- to my surprise -- were the stories about the very mundane, unexotic animals the Żabińskis managed to keep around them during the occupation of Warsaw... Borsunio the badger, Moryś the pig, Piotr the hamster, Wicek the rabbit, Kuba the chick, Balbina the cat... they had a mini-zoo going on during the war! And all these little animals’ activities are so heartstring-tugging.

Of course, the human activities during the German attack on and occupation of Warsaw are pretty amazing. It’s unbelievable what people can do with passion and numbers.

Ackerman has a strange style, though, one that took me a while to get used to. Strange imagery starts in the very first sentence: "At dawn in an outlying district of Warsaw, sunlight swarmed around the trunks of blooming linden trees..."

Sunlight swarms??

The brutal nature and weather imagery continues apace. According to Ackerman, nature and the weather are scarier than war, it seems, and she doesn’t drop this trope for long. The following tiny sample of strange imagery took me only seconds to gather:

p. 41 "...she realized that for Ryś the Baltic Sea he’d visited three years earlier probably existed only as a hazy memory that included the crashing surf and the glassy heat of noon sand."

Glassy heat? OK... just strange, not scary.

p. 51 "Tall lindens had begun turning bronze and oaks the burnt maroon of stale blood..."

There is so much blood in her nature descriptions -- this is just one of many images in which trees or plants are "blood red"! And not because of the war! Just because it’s autumn!

p. 125 "As the nights crackled with cold and frost feathered the windowpanes, winds knifed through the rinds of wooden buildings and slit life from the piglets."

p. 301 "Flocks of crows circled the sky before landing in the snow-covered fields, on one of those claggy, warm January mornings when dark tree branches glisten through fog and just breathing feels like inhaling cotton."

I, for one, don’t know "those" January mornings, don’t know what "claggy" means and can’t remember not being able to breathe in a fog. Smoke, car exhaust, hairspray, yes, they feel like inhaling cotton.

It all makes Ackerman’s book memorable, anyway (though not in the way I think she meant).

The Charming Quirks of Others, Alexander McCall Smith

Henry Raeburn, Mrs. Alexander Allan With Her Granddaughter, Matilda, 1815ish

(February 15) Love, love, love Isabel. But was a little disturbed in this book by how faithless she was about Jamie, and how she went to others first the moment she heard news that made her doubt him. Also noticing for the first time (or it feels like it) that Isabel is almost always 100 per cent wrong with her first conjectures. She is anti-Holmes, who always knows immediately who’s done the deed and only reveals it later. It’s a different way of keeping the reader in suspense, because you always want to agree with Isabel and her first conjecture.

Stories and misunderstandings were interesting as usual and Isabel is so charming in the way she thinks.

But she is always wrong and I think she always was and I just didn’t absorb it till now -- I gave her the benefit of the doubt.

Jamie cries a lot in this book. Thought that was going to come to something.

Also, garlic gets dwelt upon a couple of times, and I thought that was going to come to something, too.

Neither did.

And, in fact, a lot hinges on a visual impairment that we don’t know about till the very end... so... ::head tilt::.

Gunn’s Golden Rules: Life’s Little Lessons for Making It Work, A Guide to Taste, Quality and Style, Tim Gunn with Ada Calhoun, Kate Moloney

(February 4, February 16) I really like Tim Gunn -- he’s open, naive, he enjoys a good story, he loves pasta and meatloaf. In Golden Rules, he says he’s revealing his secrets for good manners, which surprised me -- I thought it was going to be a fashion book --, but really he wants to dish the dirt on people, well-known and anonymous, who have been rude. There is some anger there, some love of revenge, so it made me a bit squeamish... until this sentence at the end:

But let’s talk some more about the bad ones, because they’re the most fun to gossip about, and they deserve a little public shaming.

and he’s right, so, OK.

Contains the most unexpected sentence ever:

Sometimes it takes two years for these patients to build up the strength in their stumps so that the prosthetics will work.

O_o

A Guide to Taste, Quality and Style was much more the style guide that I expected with the other, but I still felt less style-guided than I did with the Nina Garcia books. This book is very witty and fun, like the other. His beliefs about posture jive with all my own beliefs about posture, and this was very gratifying.

The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley

The Forgotten Goddess, Blue Morgana

(February 19) This took months to read -- it’s an enormous book and I had to put it down several times to read other books that were on tighter deadlines at the library, but I kept on coming back to it enthusiastically.

What a saga -- not just because it’s long and has two or three perspectives (two major, one minor), but because Zimmer Bradley has incorporated all the old sagas known to English lit into one big ball of cohesive saga-material. I was really impressed by how she endeavoured to “make sense” of the many contradictions in Arthurian legends.

She tries to do the same with all Western religions while she’s at it.

I was also impressed by Zimmer Bradley’s ability to capture the “feel” of Old English narratives in speech and dialogue -- there was enough OE vocabulary and sentence structure to sound “right” but not so much as to become unintelligible or twee or ridiculous.

I called it “The Mists of Estrogen” in my head because it was dripping with '70s - '80s feminism -- the idea that women are run by (and have power because of) their menstrual cycles and birthing and breastfeeding and being receptacles of the creation of life -- the Gaia-Goddess-Fecundity-Vegetation Mystery Tour. From reading just a little background, I think she may in fact have had a big hand in creating that gestalt.

Anatomy of the Spirit, Caroline Myss

Fernando Vicente, Deslenguado, 2008

(January 19) This book was a roller-coaster ride, if a roller-coaster ride can be thought of as starting off in a mildly exciting way, then becoming totally disappointing, and then turning out OK.

A Greener Tea recommended this, and it sounded vaguely interesting (spiritual, in an Eat, Love, Pray kind of way), but when I got it home, it turned out Myss is an amazing mystic intuitive, able to diagnose illnesses and physical problems simply by meeting a person and even by just hearing about a person through a certain person. And she said that this book would teach you how to become one yourself!

But after a few amazing stories of her diagnoses and cures of various people, the book got severely disappointing. It suddenly appeared that she wanted to do an exercise in comparative religions -- she was going to show us how the seven Christian sacraments, the ten Jewish sefirot and the seven Hindu chakras were all the same thing. (She didn’t add in Islam because she doesn’t know anything about it. :/)

So she goes through all these moral truths and shows how they relate to the sacraments and the sefirot, etc., but she really isn’t teaching us to be medical intuitives! And some of the so-called parallelisms between the three religions were pretty forced. And what about those of us who don’t need to have ideas legitimized by Christianity, Judaism and Hinduism?

It was very strange. It was a sudden shift and a kind of incoherent one.

But then about two-thirds through, the stories about people who were sick or in trouble because of something they screwed up in their chakras seemed to become more interesting. So... OK.

Cool Water, Dianne Warren

Marlys Farn-Guillette, The Fence Is Down

(December 25) Got this when I heard it won a 2010 Governor General's Literary Award for Fiction. Can see why it won something -- it's very serious (reminds me of Ann Patchett) -- everything happens in one day and everything that happens echoes an event that occurred in the area 100 years ago (to the day) -- so the Saskatchewan landscape never changes and is the ultimate victor over puny human happenings à la Ozymandias -- and so on and so forth.

But a book like this -- you can never stop being aware that you are reading a book that has been carefully crafted to evoke all this symbolism -- it never lifts you out of yourself and out of the feeling that you are reading a carefully crafted book and into the realm of vicariously lived excitement, and that's what I really want from a book.

However, I was surprised and enchanted to learn that there's a desert in Saskatchewan. Everyone in the book acknowledges or comments fleetingly on the fact that no one knows there is a desert in Saskatchewan, and they are right. Which is kind of cool.

Cutting for Stone, Abraham Verghese

Aleka Gebre Selassie Adil, Mother Ethiopia, 1960

(December 6) Really liked it, especially at first: for about the first two-thirds, it was wondrous... vivid and evocative in a way that reminded me of Half of a Yellow Sun, with a mild hint of magic reality to it à la Gabriel García Márquez, which was lovely. (I'm thinking of the story of the parents, particularly.)

But then, once it left Ethiopia, the story seemed to think it was about medicine primarily; instead of being about people who also practiced medicine, it morphed into a creaking, artificial set-up for a medical drama. The symbolism groaned at you.

But the first two-thirds -- gold.

One Day, David Nicholls

Niki Sands, Love's Melody

(November 16) This book surprised me in two ways: first, I didn't realize it was a rom-com till I was well into it and really liking the characters. It was written by a man, after all! But it was totally rom-commy ... so light, so like a Sophie Kinsella book ... but with just a slight bit more.... complexity? I had to keep looking at the book jacket photo to make sure Nicholls was a man.

It was so likable. When at one point I had to return it to the library half-read, I really missed Em and Dex.

Second, this book blindsided me like no other in a long time. Well, Fingersmith blindsided me only six months ago... but, really, only those two books in my whole life, I think.

Ape House, Sara Gruen

Marc Johnson, Smoking Monkey

(October 21) She had me at "Ape," plus I already loved Water for Elephants.

This book was worth it for the information about bonobos alone, but Gruen also kept a few plot-plates spinning with great flair.

The book did devolve a bit into TV-sitcom territory eventually, but I was fine with that since the alternative might easily have been animal abuse and too much drama.

There were ironic-twist sub-stories showing how an L.A. lifestyle compels people to change everything that's unique and lovable about them (for example, the parallel between two characters who get a lot of plastic surgery, one because of injuries from an explosion and the other because she's trying to make it in Hollywood) and questioning whether prestige and integrity go hand-in-hand in the media (a writer only finds himself when he stoops to work for the worst rag in the country).

But mainly, it was the bonobos.

The Global Forest, Diana Beresford-Kroeger

Laura Milnor Iverson, Nature's Bright Peace

(October 13) Heard her interviewed on the CBC and was entranced with her descriptions of the biochemistry of trees, wanted to read more.

And this book is interesting, eventually... but I had a hard time getting past the style at times. She wants to invest her remarks with "ancient wisdom" and tries all sorts of methods of doing this -- writing in the style of fairy tales, children's readers, the Bible, and so on. (She even tries an erotic style once or twice.)

A favourite style is to machine-gun you with a lengthy series of short declarative sentences. I enjoy a short declarative sentence, but more than 10 in a row and you begin to think a writer's first language is not English. Sample:

There is a new violence in the world. This violence stands apart from all the other familiar forms. This one is silent and it shows no mercy to the young and the old. It is in the air we breathe. The air is no longer clean.

The new violence is measured in microns, a size smaller than a pollen grain. The violence is particulate pollution. This form of pollution is composed of tiny fragments of matter that will become airborne. Anything can become airborne if it is small enough or light enough or has the right kind of aerodynamic form to fly. These tiny particles are now finding a new name depending on their diameter, expressed as particle microns, or PM for short.

Size matters. Any pollution particles that measure PM 2.5 or less are lethal to the human body. They are also lethal to much of the rest of the animal kingdom.

The book is billed as a collection of essays, so I guess this entitles a writer to try different techniques of infusing grandiosity, but since none of the essays repeat information, you know they were intended to be published together, so "collection of essays" just becomes a license to not have a more intrinsic structural plan.

Plus, overall, there is this cliché of "we are destroying the planet" at every turn. I could maybe forgive her if the book were five years old, but the publishing date is 2010, and, lady, we've heard this refrain.

Don't know why the biochemistry of trees can't be treated as interesting for its own sake.

Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert

Pablo Picasso, Girl Before a Mirror, 1932

(September 29) Read this to be able to join in on the general sneering, for that's the only reaction to it I ever saw on my internet travels. Case in point: it was endorsed by Oprah, in some ways the worst thing that can happen to a book's credibility (though it means it will sell well).

But I liked Eat, Pray, Love quite a bit. I liked Gilbert's voice, I identified with her quest, I laughed out loud many times.

The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockingjay, Suzanne Collins

(September 15, September 20, September 25) This "Young Adult" series was getting all kinds of hype because Mockingjay came out in August... so I took it up in hopes it was the next Harry Potter or Golden Compass.

The Hunger Games was a bit disappointing, at first, because nothing can be Harry Potter or The Golden Compass or even Twilight, after all, and also because I found it really Young Adult, really teenagery... with teenage preoccupations (dating, clothes, rejecting authority). Collins worked hard to come up with a story that would allow her heroine to balance two amazing love interests forever.

But then, by Catching Fire, the story had built up momentum for me, despite the Contrive-o-matic Machine lumbering along in the background. It was interesting to see what Collins was going to do with this love triangle, after all.

Mockingjay took the series into darker and more horrific territory than I ever would have imagined. There were some really interesting points made about how a rebel movement can be just as corrupt as the government it attempts to overthrow; it wasn't just a Star Wars-style battle between good and evil. But the final book is one long blood-bath and the resolution of Katniss's love troubles is very anti-climactic.

Year of Wonders, Geraldine Brooks

Hendrik Kerstens, Shopping Bag, 2008

(September 5) I enjoyed this quite a bit, even though it is a tad grisly in its descriptions of plague victims and the day-to-day brutality of 17th-century village life.

It's a little like a Sarah Waters novel, in that the first-person narrator is crafted to have the preoccupations and language of a bygone age -- but Brooks is not as convincing with this as Waters was with her Victorians. On the other hand, if Brooks did try to make it as authentic as possible, no one would be able to understand it. See Pepys' Twitter account.

This is also a little like Diana Gabaldon's 18th-century novels with all the interesting details about medical knowledge and superstitions of the time.

What I really liked about it was that it set up certain expectations about the outcomes for certain individuals -- and then did not take us there at all! Quite surprising! In fact, the way the novel ends is basically a bolt from the blue. But an interesting bolt -- for our heroine is much better off and more empowered in the culture of "our enemy" than she ever was before.

What I found hard to take: all the sad dying. But, what are you gonna do? It's a novel about the Plague Year.

The Amazing Power of Deliberate Intent; Ask and It Is Given, Esther and Jerry Hicks

Goddess Selket, Pharaoh Tutankhamun, Egyptian Museum, Egypt, 1323 BCE

(August 31, February 20) This is another version of The Secret and The Science of Getting Rich; this one is a lot more sure about the way things are, especially death.

I really like Abraham's voice, actually -- "they" are very no-nonsense, balls-to-the-wall about everything.

Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov

Polixeni Papapetrou, Olympia as Lewis Carroll’s Beatrice Hatch before White Cliffs, 2003

(August 25) I am so surprised to be saying that this is a great book and that I enjoyed it. I never wanted to read about pedophilia and believed I'd never read this novel, but Lolita is always included on "best" book lists, including recently a "30 books to read before 30" -- which is really cutting it fine, right? -- so I gave in.

And so it is a great book -- an amazing book, all the more amazing because it makes an unsavory subject completely enjoyable. As Stephen Metcalf says, "with Lolita, you must work past its beauty to recognize how shocking it is", and it is sometimes very hard work to get past the beauty.