American Husband

Curtis Sittenfeld's American Wife is Alice, a bookish midwestern lady living a straight-arrow life. How does she end up with Charlie, a charming rich boy with the world at his feet and no real interest in doing anything with it?

(I'm working on keeping spoilers out of this post, and I'm doing okay with that regarding the specific events of the book, but the emotional path of the narrative is spelled out below, so be warned.)

So this is a novelization of the life of Laura Bush, and I had a hard time with it. I loved the first 100 pages, because she's such a likable character. I wonder, however much the circumstances echo real ones, how like Laura Bush she is in character. Then, she meets Charlie, and his charm and good nature win her over. Unfortunately, they totally turned me off, and I put the book down for a while.

In the meantime, Linden read it, and we had an interesting conversation. I don't want to give too much of the book away, but now that I'm further along (though still not yet done), I can see Linden's side of our argument a little better. I still hold the same opinion, though.

My opinion is that I hate Charlie. It's not just that he's clearly modeled on G. W. Bush, of whom I was and am no fan. I was able to pick the book back up by setting aside those similarities, and I could see, then how his charm could be, well, charming. But I still feel pretty solidly that I was rooting for her to dump him, even when he was still at his most adorable.

Later (seriously, I'm trying for no spoilers here), I understand Linden's assessment that it's a book about her marriage to a very flawed man. It's not about him being great, it's about him being good in some ways and not in others, and how that works in their marriage. I would push that a little further and say it's about her being married to someone who's pretty much an ass, but not such a complete ass---- that she has no choice but to leave him. So I guess I see it as being about a flawed marriage, but a marriage to a man who's somewhere worse than flawed--somewhere in the unlikeable range.

And I stand by my assessment that Alice lives precariously. She's about not rocking the boat, she's about doing things under the table, about keeping her true self--who she socializes with, the causes she donates to--off the radar of the people who populate her life. Because for the most part, her life is populated with people whose values she works very hard to respect, without ever quite getting there. She keeps her head down, she tries to see the good side of things; she wants a peaceable life, and she will hold on to that peace with white knuckled silence. She hates the fact that the country club doesn't admit Jews or blacks, but she doesn't consider leaving it, because everyone belongs there. Not because she wants to see them, or keep up with them, but because she'd have to explain to them why she's taking a stand, offend them, upset them. That pretty much sums up her marriage, too.

I still want her to dump him. I know, of course, that she won't, but I'm still rooting for her.

I think I put in more spoilers than I meant to. Sorry about that.

Welcome Home!

I went on vacation last week. I was going to bring 8 books, and at my sister's insistence ("That's a book a day, and two on Sunday") I winnowed it down to 7. Then I snuck another one in before I went and brought 8 after all.

I finished The Mysterious Benedict Society, which was clever and thrilling. I would say it's more of a sophisticated middle grade book, rather than a young adult book--I think it's aimed at 10 to 12 year olds, but those who are great readers. I read The Wolves of Willoughby Chase, by Joan Aiken. A kids' classic, with some truly, amazingly terrifying scenes of (unsurprisingly) wolf chases. Also Among the Imposters, the next of the Margaret Peterson Haddix Shadow Children series, which was both slight and serious, but managed to be okay.

When I got home, though, that big dent didn't seem like much. There are still 13 books waiting for me here. The good news is that I'm excited to read them; the bad news is that due dates are rolling around.

So, right now? American Wife, by Curtis Sittenfeld. Never read Prep, but this is a very good book. The only problem I'm running into is that I'm not a huge fan of her leading man, but I'm coming around to it. I'll have more to say about it, as I go, I think. The Other Queen, by Philippa Gregory, which is not bad so far. I've found her stuff to be hit or miss, but this is okay so far. A Curse Dark as Gold, by Elizabeth C. Bunce, is a retelling of the story of Rumpelstiltskin. So far it's good, but slow--I'm about a quarter of the way through, and the book so far is just about a tough situation getting tougher, and worse, and less comfortable. No real complications, just money troubles, personnel shortages, unpleasant relatives....I could use some magic.

So, that's where we are now. I returned some books to the library and didn't check anything out at all. I'm feel all discombobulated, being gone so long, so I'm not going to go for coherence, but just post this and try to say something useful later.

Adam's Favorite Books

In honor of a regular reader who's expecting, I would like to present a short post about the books that are most popular with my almost 8 month old son.

1) Bear Snores On, Karma Wilson. For some reason, he's always loved this book. Mike and I do it with different voices, and he loves both versions.

2) Where the Wild Things Are, Maurice Sendak. I don't quite know what he loves about this one, but I think it's the pictures.

3) Jamberry, Bruce Degen. Mike reads this one with a deep bear voice, which I've taken up because I think it's why it's so popular. I love the pictures in this one, which makes it something I can read again and again.

These are the top three. He also loves any board book, but mostly to play with, rather than read. I'm a big fan of Sandra Boynton, and we have some of Dr. Seuss's more picture-heavy, word-light books in board form. So when you're shopping, now you have some tips.

And hooray for all you parents and parents-to-be!

With Vigor and Determination

I have rescinded the permission I gave myself to read only kids' books for a while. Why? Well, I was at a party last night with some literary types, and I reached back, trying to think of something even modestly "worthwhile" that I've read in the past few months. Couldn't do it. Then I came home and looked at my lists--Goodreads, my journal--of what I've been reading, and realized that the total number of books that don't fall into the YA category in the past two or three months is about six. And at least two of those are medical memoirs, plus other assorted popular nonfiction. I guess what I'm saying is that they're still pretty light.

So, I've bullied myself into trying again. I think I realized that I'm not in the mood for Confederates in the Attic, and I don't have the intellectual hunger I'd need to get me through the political irritation of The Nine. So I'm going with American Wife, which is a novel, and apparently a good one. I don't know if it has the literary weight that would have made me feel less embarrassed not to have read (or want to read) Atlas Shrugged, but it's what I've got right now.

So, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, wish me luck.

Blurb Wars

On the back of The King's Peace, by Jo Walton, is a blurb by someone named Debra Doyle. It says, in part, "The King's Peace is the novel that The Mists of Avalon should have been."

Way to take a swipe at MZB. I think it's because it's an Arthurian story with a strong woman protagonist, but a little more historically accurate, maybe? Not sure, but great.

I read a contest in a fantasy magazine once for the best blurb that you'd give if you hated the book but didn't want to insult the author. "As tight and fast-paced as Tolkein!" "This author could not have written a better book." Etc. I wish I could think of some more. Anyone?

Reader's Block

I seriously just can't read anything serious right now. Not just serious, but substantial. I have three good, worth reading books that are due back because I've had them nine weeks, and I just can't. Curtis Sittenfeld's American Wife, Jeffrey Toobin's The Nine, and Tony Horwitz's Confederates In the Attic. I really want to read all three, but I can barely concentrate hard enough to keep myself into a 180 page book about a 12 year old hero, never mind a 360 page book about nine (or twelve or fifteen--it covers a stretch of time) Supreme Court justices.

I'm pretty disappointed in myself, especially since I had such good luck getting my hands on these books. But I think I'm going to have to return them and try again another day. I'm trying to aim low for a little while, remind myself that this is supposed to be fun--there's no reason to slog. It's not like I'm getting paid by the page, or the book, or the hour or at all really.

I will say that there is one book I'm giving up out of pure good sense. I like therapy books in general--nonfiction by psychologists who talk about their pet theories and their most memorable patients. I got a recommendation for a book called The Unsayable: The hidden language of trauma, by Annie G. Rogers. I checked it out, and it's very well written and looks pretty good. Then I flipped to a page at the middle and read a few lines about her asking a young patient who she trusted, who made her feel safe. Her horse was the first answer, and how much she enjoyed riding, followed by a neighbor who is kind to her. The author then elaborated on these feelings for the reader, mentioning casually the relationship between the neigh of a horse and the word neighbor. At this point I put the book down and stepped slowly away, and I hope you support me in that decision.

So: more Margaret Peterson Haddix, more Bloody Jack, maybe The Wolves of Willoughby Chase. And maybe, just maybe, I can sneak a Philippa Gregory novel past the blockade. I mean, there's nothing substantial about that, is there?