Surrender

Well, it's been the literary equivalent of a cloudy, drizzly, cold and damp week or so. Not a dry spell--that's different. This has just been the kind of stretch that makes you think God has a head cold and is taking it out on you. Metaphorically.

First, I have to admit that I gave in to an inexplicable urge to read a book by a woman named Lurlene. Perhaps I shouldn't judge, but that doesn't seem to be stopping me. In a search for fiction about Amish people, I wound up with a young adult romance novel called Angels Watching Over Me, by Lurlene McDaniel. I did not realize how awful it would be; I would have stopped reading it but the whole thing took about two hours, so by the time I realized how bad it was, it was too late to stop. Embarassingly, I realized when I read the blurbs in the back of the book, she also wrote a number of books I recall fondly from my youth, including Too Young to Die, I Want to Live, and Six Months to Live. Do we see a common theme?

For my future Amish literature needs, instead of reading the rest of this trilogy (Lifted Up by Angels and Until Angels Close My Eyes, and aren't you glad I read these books so you don't have to?), I'm going to go with Jodi Picoult's Plain Truth. I think that'll fill my Amish needs.

In other sadly abortive attempts at bettering myself, I had to surrender The Diary of a Country Priest, as well. With this one, I can't be fully sure it wasn't that I just wasn't in the mood to work that hard. It's a sad book, first of all, about a priest who finds his small country parish to be uninspiring, and who doesn't manage money well and seems a little less than admirable himself. But the problem with the book, really, was the long, uninterrupted paragraphs of description and characters with long monologues about the nature of the priesthood, etc.

It's hard for me, but I think I might as well just let it go. I have to remember that if I die not having read every book that ever crossed my path, it will not be the end of the world. It's all about mortality, you know?

And finally, I also gave up on The Last Report of the Miracles at Little No-Horse. This book might have been good, actually, but it was really very much not up my alley. I'm always suspicious of a book with a geneology chart in the front. And long paragraphs rhapsodizing about music don't usually win me either. It doesn't actually have any magical realism in it (not in the first 36 pages, which was the 10% test I gave it), but it came very close--they removed the wall of the house to get the piano in, and the woman plays the piano nude in the middle of the night, with the whole world flowing around her. Then there's a flood and she dresses as a man and becomes a priest.

I don't know. I feel like maybe I should try--the story had promising things in it. It was very much my kind of book in many ways. But I just wasn't enjoying it.

Well, what're you gonna do? I'm reading other books now, and enjoying them. I went to the library and have 12 items checked out now (according to my account). There will be others.

In Absentia

Where have I been? What have I been doing? Don't I know how you worry? Don't I care that you've been pacing the floor wondering if I'm okay, or if I'm dead in a ditch? You don't think I care at all about your feelings.

Well, I'm very sorry. I was away for a weekend, and then I was pushing a major course live, which I'm proud to say was pulled off by various magical tricks and diverting slight of hand techniques.

So there's what I've been reading, and my (for me) exciting upcoming experience. Regarding the first, I'll just say that I've been testing a number of books only to discover that I don't actually want to take them on. More on this later, and possibly a little cosmetic update to the klog (as Mike calls it--for booklog).

But the upcoming event--never let it be said that you haven't seen karma in action--I'm going to the Public Library Association National Conference at the Hynes this week! Though I have rather given up on my little dream of being a librarian (seriously, I've not even organized enough to be a project manager--if I'm going to jump careers, I'll really need to do something LESS rigorous, not more), I'm so thrilled to get to wander their exhibition halls and see what happens. I understand there are a lot of publishers there with books--and maybe swag! I'm all tingly.

And this wonderful thing came into my life because I volunteered to do a favor for an internet stranger. I almost didn't, either, because it seemed presumptuous to answer a request for help that was tossed out into the blogosphere intended for actual librarians. But I live in Boston and have a car, so I'm delivering boxes for Bill Barnes of Overdue Media, creators of the excellent webcomic Unshelved. I understand I'm going to walk away with a T-shirt, and I hope, a really great glimpse inside the world that brings me all the things I treasure--BPL, Minuteman Library Network, my beloved Malden Public Library, etc.

On, to glory!

Done and Done

So what have I finished? I reread Ender's Game last week--excellent stuff. Orson Scott Card may be a bigot and a crackpot fundamentalist and may have a really hard time figuring out how to end a book, but darn if he isn't a gifted storyteller. Like his super-genius characters, the secret to his gift is great empathy. You know the character as he knows himself, and therefore can love and despise him all at once.

Our Man in Panama, by Graham Greene (or was it The Tailor of Havana? No, I remember--Our Man in Havana, an Entertainment. But I've said too much already). Seriously, John Le Carre totally stole from Green, but Greene is better. Well, I've never read Le Carre....but Greene is so funny! I like the subtitle, too: An Entertainment. A comedy of errors, really.

My Sister's Keeper, Jodi Picoult. The romatic subplot was thin (you really need a better reason than that to keep people apart for 15 years), and the reader of Julia's character being horrible didn't help. (You know how on SNL you can tell they're reading off cue cards? Like that, only in audiobook form. LONG pauses at weird moments.) The core conflict and story, the family's story, were good. There were parts where I wanted more meat, but I will say formally that I enjoyed this book a lot and would recommend it.

Am I going to get into trouble if I admit that I just finished Too Good to Leave, Too Bad to Stay, which is designed to help you decide whether to break up with your significant other? I'm not considering anything like that, as I warned Mike. But how does the book tell you what to do? Turns out, with a series of "diagnostic questions." And it was an interesting view into the mind of someone who's staying in a miserable relationship, or who thinks of leaving every time a problem comes up. I think I would recommend it to someone who was looking for advice on this subject. But again (DISCLAIMER), this is not me.

So now I'm reading Crossin Over: One Woman's Exodus from Amish Life. First of all, it's accurate in that it's really just the one woman's story--it's barely about the Amish, it's barely about anything except this twenty year old girl falling in love with a fifty year old, thrice divorced man with gout. Also, I'll tell you--she hates the Amish. Loves her family, hates Amishness. Sounds like her dad was verbally abusive. I don't know if you can blame all the Amish for that, but you can barely tell from this amateurish book.

I'll finish it though. It's shorter than this blog entry.

WTF!!!???!!!

What. The. Heck??? I can't go into this without spoilers, but I will try by not telling you what book. But WHY did you end the book like that? Why? Why did I read about all those things, all these people, why did they go through all these specific trials and torments to end up like that? Unlikely! Even perverse fate is not so perverse.

Did you ever see City of Angels? At least when they used that ending, it made a certain thematic sense. That movie was requesting that I think about certain things, and that ending made me think about those things in a different way, more complex. The issues this book was asking me to consider were THROWN OUT THE WINDOW with this ending.

If you know what I'm talking about and have read this book (hint: I've mentioned it here before), and you get why it ended like this, please let me know.

I've actually finished a bunch of books in the past few days, but that will come later, so I don't give away what book makes me want shake the author.

Edited to add: You know what it's like? It's like on TV whenever someone gets pregnant and they're thinking about getting an abortion, and then before they can go to the clinic they have a miscarriage. So you don't have to deal with the fallout of a real, difficult choice with no easy right answer. It's a cop out, I tell you. Grr.

Them Wacky Amish

I'm not worried about insulting the Amish in my post, because they don't use the internet or read blogs.

I'm on about page 2 (literally it's page 10, but the text started one page ago) of Crossing Over: One Woman's Exodus from Amish Life, and I can tell that this is not a book about someone who loves the Amish. I don't know what else I would expect from these leaving religion books that I'm getting into now, but I was a little surprised.

But what I've learned already! Apparently the Amish were founded in 1693 by someone who left the Mennonite church because he felt they "did not carry shunning far enough." Hear that Amish? Be more shunny!

But the best part is that this guy who founded the Amish later excommunicated himself from the Amish.

This is already fun.

ps. Can one woman have an exodus? In a related grammatical nitpick, can you really have a "mass exodus," or is that redundant, like (nod to Becky) "very unique?"

Drunken Librarying

At the work party on Wednesday, I did a little too much open barring, if you know what I mean. I always assume wine isn't going to do anything, but it hits me much harder than I expect. Anyway, after the party, I went to the library to return some stuff. Then...I went a little nutty. I was clutching the bannister to keep from spinning down the stairs. But the wonderful thing about being drunk at the BPL--you're never the only one. There's always a hobo.

So when I go to the library but am not in complete control of my faculties, it turns out (surprise, surprise) that I check out a buttload of books. Like ALL the books. And the really horrible part is that, counting them in the sober light of day, even after ready all 8 of the book I checked out, I won't bring my list below 50. I used to have a goal of staying below 30. I am really not being good with goals this year.

I went nutty on the "religious subculture" books--several on the Amish and the Hisidic Jews. Also, a relationship book that has nothing to do with my life but that I was really curious about (it's called Too Good to Leave, Too Bad to Stay). Not because I have that question, but because I see people online recommending it all the time, and I'm curious--how does a pop psych writer answer that question? So far, she's said that you should leave if you've been physically assualted more than once or if you can't ever remember a time when your relationship was good. And the funny thing is, I can imagine people who need that advice, and I'm glad this lady is there to give it.

Also: rereading Ender's Game. Closing in on the end of My Sister's Keeper (I find the lawyer/guardian ad litem (sp?) romance subplot to be a) poorly read and b) totally useless; otherwise, a very lovely and emotionally thoughtful book). Setting aside The Subtle Knife for a couple of days anyway, because you want to spread those things out. And Our Man in Havana is desperate and hilarious.

I keep myself busy. And tipsy. Good combo!

Error in Judgement

Yeah, so I finished Morality for Beautiful Girls (Alexander McCall Smith, another Mma Ramotswe novel, excellent) and started Our Man in Havana, by Graham Greene. First of all, he's very sly and brilliant and jaded, this Graham Greene person. "Isn't it lovely how you always get what you pray for?" I had to read that sentence twice before I spotted the "r," and then I laughed out loud on the train.

But I did make a mistake that screwed up my initial understanding of the book. When Wormold tells his friend that they're going out to buy a bottle to celebrate Milly's 17th birthday, I was a little grossed out that his wife was so young. It didn't really surprise me that much, though. But then he starts talking about her at the age of 13, and I'm so skeeved out! Yes, skeeved! And then he tells the guy she's his daughter so he doesn't look like the gross old letch he is...

No wait. I flip back through the first 23 pages of the book. Nowhere does it say he's married to Milly. She is his daughter. That's why he's known her since she was 4 (and, presumably, before). So when he refers to her mother, it's not about him buying her off some poor woman when she was 12, it's that he was married to her mother, and fathered a child with her.

I am DISGUSTING.

Giving Up My Indie Cred

I just don't like David Sedaris.

Admittedly, this is more based on his readings on the radio, and he does have the most annoying voice in the world, so there's that. But I think it's less his voice than his tone--irony drips from every word, there's just no sincerity whatsoever in there, no emotion that he isn't mocking even as he claims it. And as we all know, I'm a huge proponent of the New Sincerity.

This brings me to the book I finished this weekend, The Age of Innocence. That is sincerity taken to the most poignant, rending conclusions possible. To give up your life, your chances of joy in life, for the sake of "what people would think." It's so hard for me to imagine how it would feel to be constrained by everyone around you from something that might seem innocuous.

And the insanity is that, after being denied the ability to make the reasonable change--breaking off an engagment--he's almost driven to something that even today would be tragic--running away and leaving all his life behind for his true love.

An excellent, sad, poignant book.

Ode to Book Club

You know, despite my mezze mezze feelings about book club, I have to admit, I've been introduced to some good writers through it. Richard Yates and Graham Greene come to mind as two people I would never have read (in the case of Richard Yates, possibly never even heard of) if they hadn't been book club picks. And now I've got one of each on my Borrowed shelf.

So thank you, book club. You done good.

Mixed Blessings

Well, it's always very sad when this happens, but it also makes my life a little easier. I just started to read Bookends, by Jane Green, which I selected because a friend likes the author. I have to say, I just can't get into it. There's a weakness to the storytelling--I keep losing track of how much time has passed--that I just can't get past. I'm sorry, Tracy. I do love trash, you know that. I guess this just isn't for me.

Let me give an example, though, because, well, because I critiquing fiction last night and I'm in the zone. So, the main character is at work and on the phone with her best friend, Simon. She says she has an appointment and needs to go, so they hang up. Then the book segues into her thinking about her friends and introducing them to me. So far so good--I don't need to go with her to her business meeting. But when it segues back into the "now," to what's going on around her, it's because the phone rings and it's her friend Simon who wants to tell her about something. So there's no indication at all of whether her appointment already happened or if he's calling her back five minutes later. They have a leisurely conversation. I read the passage twice trying to figure it out. If it was Joyce, or Toni Morrison, even, it would be compelling to be drawn back to reread and figure out what's going on. Not what I was looking for though. (Again, Tracy, I'm so sorry!)

But, I do get to cross it off my list, bringing that down to 54 again. And I think I might have discovered a useful new standard. When I realized I wasn't getting into it right away, I checked how many pages in the book (350) and decided to read 35 pages before giving up. Ten percent; that seems fair, right?

So: one down, 54 to go.

Brokenest of Hearts

Sorry for the long delay in posting--Blogger's been a pain this week, and work has been (gasp!) busy. But let me tell you of yesterday's tragedy.

A few weeks ago, I bought a boxed set of His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman. I've been so excited to start it, but busy. Finally, for the past week, I've made it my before bed book. Such fun! And Saturday morning, just at the part where Lyra has been caught in Bolvangar and is going to be severed from Pantalaimon, I discover...missing pages!

Yes, the signature containing chapters 15 and 16 appears twice, while the sig containing chapters 17 and 18 is entirely missing.

Do you UNDERSTAND my AGONY???

Tomorrow I'm going to head back to Barnes and Nobel to see if I can get a replacement that doesn't have the problem. I hope! Thank heaven we live in our own filth, and I hadn't thrown away the bag with the receipt in it.

In other news, I finished listening to Drowning Ruth by Christina Schwarz. It wasn't bad, but I don't think I'd recommend it. The shape of the story was just kind of strange. I wouldn't say I'd have liked it better if I'd been reading it (Blair Brown's reading was excellent), but I think that not knowing how far along in the story I was really affected my understanding of what was going to happen. There was a chunk in the middle where I thought I was approaching the end, but was actually approaching the halfway point. I guess the middle lags, is the problem. The crisis/semi-mystery is set up at the beginning, and then the middle is spent establishing a life for these people. The events of that life come to a head fifteen years later, but going from Ruth's five-year-old life to her eighteen-year-old life is a little choppy. At the point where her father ceases to be useful, he conveniently becomes a merchant marine. Well handled, but, again, convenient.

I think it was a middle-of-the road, reasonably good book.

The Age of Innocence is quite good. I'm curious about a lot of the euphemisms and generalizations that Newland uses--what "life experiences" is he missing, what "dangerous knowledge" is kept from his naive fiancee? I'm not even sure he knows. But I think that if I were to actually see the society he lives in, I would be startled by the restraint and boredom. I think Wharton does an excellent job, in his character, of examining his world as both an insider and an outsider. He loves it, but can see its flaws, and feels constrained by it and supported by it at the same time.

I need a copy of The Golden Compass right now!

Moving On

Why do they close at 5 today? Why? I was going to go at lunch but I got distracted and then was working and then it's too late and when I get out of work the library will be closed and I can't go to the library. It makes me so sad.

I finished The Tiger in the Well, which I really enjoyed by the end, but I have to say, Philip Pullman has ruined it for himself with His Dark Materials. He can't top that. What's he going to do? His only choice is to go on hiatus for ten years and then have his next novel come out in fifteen. By then everyone will be salivating and no one will care if it's good.

I'm reading The Age of Innocense now, which I might have to set aside for more pressing tasks and unpublished works, but which will carry me through the commute nicely. I'm really enjoying it--Wharton is very funny, and she does a good job of critiquing the upper class and their propriety subtly while writing from the point of view of someone who completely buys the whole worldview completely, and yet without being derisive. I think it might run into trouble with a modern reader, though, because her aloof criticism, mild as it is, might not seem scathing enough for a modern reader.

I remember reading Emma with Book Club Incarnation 1. It was one of the first ones we read. A lot of people didn't like it--not because of the old fashioned writing, but because of the ideas about class. The idea that there is someone who is beneath someone else--that Emma's friend (I can't remember the names in the real book, so we'll use Clueless)--that Ty acutally isn't good enough for Josh. It's funny, and I should have brought this up at book club, darn it!--because when you translate it into modern times, you see that Ty isn't clever enough or deep enough for Josh--even though she's a lovely person. They don't have common interests. That's exactly how it was back then, only they had this shorthand called class. And yes, that would have been used to keep a clever Ty down, but face it, that girl (Harriet, I think was her name) was not clever.

I think it's interesting how hard it can be to read a novel from another era through the lens of that era, and combine that with your own views, and still enjoy it on all levels. That's what makes classics "classic" I guess.

NOT GOING TO THE LIBRARY

But it's so hard.

Martha Beck, who wrote Expecting Adam and Leaving the Saints, two books that I enjoyed very much and which really affected me, wrote another book called Finding Your Own North Star. She's what she calls a Life Coach, and I'd really like to look at what she has to say about finding your calling and your place in life. From her column in O, I suspect that she's kind of touchy-feely and much more about giving you permission to feel things you're resistant to than she is constructive in suggesting a life-goal to a mediocre project manager, but I want to hear what she has to say.

But. When have I ever checked out one book? Mhm. You see? So if I did that, I'd end up getting the Hasidic exiles book, and the next Mma Ramotswe book, and that Groucho Marx autobiography, and, and, and.

I resist. I'm reading The Tiger in the Well, which, I'm terribly sorry Katie, is no His Dark Materials. (If he knows all those details about Sally's life, of COURSE he'll recognize her assistant when she comes to spy on him.) I'm rereading The Lark and the Wren, which I might quit in a chapter or two because the last third has little to do with the very enjoyable first third. It's good, but a different book. I'm going to read The Age of Innocense before anything next. Plus Erin's novel for writer's group, and soon Katie's novel...and...and....

If someone would pay me for all this, I could live a long, happy, wealthy life.

Who's Afraid of Blair Brown?

Drowning Ruth, my current book on tape (well, mp3, we are in the 21st century here, people) is read excellently by Blair Brown. I chose it based on her sample reading of a book I really wasn't interested in--she's very good. It's kind of a harsh book, about crazy people. It's interesting that I thought I must be coming close to the end and am only halfway through. There's no way for me to tell how far along I am unless I plug my mp3 player into my computer.

My misjudgment was not based on boredom but on the arc of the story. The child is growing up, years are passing. I'm starting to realize in a way I hadn't before that the story is full of crazy people.

Change of topic: Kathy was telling me about a book called, I believe, The Last Record of the Miracles at Little No-Horse. This reminded me of the story of Pope Joan, which I read about in a novel by Donna Cross (I believe), but which may or may not be a true story. Apparently Pope John VIII reigned for two years and then surprised everyone by giving birth on the side of the road (in the novel, she actually just starts to hemorrhage, if I recall correctly). Anyway, if it's a true story, all documentation of it was destroyed/suppressed for about three centuries, and she was only mentioned in the 1500s, 350 years after she supposedly reigned. So who knows?

But it's an interesting story--there's a lot of fiction (esp. YA, I think) about girls who disguise themselves as boys and beat the system; I'm about to reread The Lark and the Wren by Mercedes Lackey, one of my favorite such stories. But such a true-life scandal! It's very exciting to think that the world can be so unpredictable, the system so beaten.

Sorry; this is a little stream-of-consciousness. I'm a little edgy today. Monday's going to be a rough day at work; wish me luck.

She's Back!

Vacation is so wonderful, but it drifts away so fast when you settle back into your day-to-day. Which day-to-day has been seeming particularly overloaded lately, but who's surprised by that? No one.

Anyway, there's of course book club drama--I'm very sensitive to the unpopular feeling of people not being able to come to MY meeting. I do understand that I didn't remind anyone till yesterday, and I'm aware that I'm being unreasonable. Still. Anyway, rescheduled (Monday, everyone!) and I'll have more time to gather resources for the meeting. Mmmm....resources.

But I'm reading On Beauty by Zadie Smith, at Mike's suggestion. I appreciated White Teeth and saw how good it was, but I'm really happy to say that I'm both appreciating and enjoying this book. It might be that the setting is American (Boston, in fact), or that I'm familiar with the nature of the elite liberal arts institution, or that I've been waiting for ten years for an educated insider to tell me how silly deconstructionism can be. (I also love that she never calls it that.)

But she does so many interesting things. Though race is clearly present in the story (and it's by Zadie Smith), it's a little while before I realized that it would be a major theme. Though the title is On Beauty, it was a while before I realized how it would shape the story. She lifts chunks of the plot directly from Howard's End, characterization and all (even sneaking in a walk-on character named Wilcox). She cuts away at the beginning of a major climax, to resume the story months later when all the characters have gotten used to the aftermath of the incident. It's really excellent.

Highly recommended. I'm resisting the library, though perhaps not for long, having just bought Collapse by Jared Diamond and the His Dark Materials trilogy. I have so many books I must read at home, but I've been seized, after seeing a bit on CNN at the airport, with a need to read books about people who are leaving isolated religious communities. For this, I need the library.

I could really stand to be under house arrest for a few months. Or bedridden (God forbid).

Slacker

Working ten hour days not only cut into reading time, I don't post as often, either. It's been just over a week of working till 6:30 or 7:30 or 9 every night. I know some of you do that every day, but a) I don't know how, and b) you're lawyers; you knew what you were getting into.

This bonanza of productivity included Sunday (8 to 5, baby!), which means I've been reading the same two books for about two weeks; I don't know if I've finished a single book this year! The Doomsday Book, by Connie Willis, a classic of sci-fi that mostly takes place in the middle ages (time travel, don't you know) and Four Ways to Forgiveness, by Ursula LeGuin, who I like but don't have a real handle on yet, I think. I haven't read any of her classics (Earthsea), but I read Gifts, which was a small, sweet book.

Forgiveness is actually a series of interlinked novellas. It's pretty good, though I don't think I'm much of a fan of novellas. I think Katie had the best definition; a novel is about something that happens, a novella is usually about the time leading up to something happening. The real meat begins as the story ends. I don't know if this is a universal definition, but it definitely relates to how I feel about them.

Anyway, I'm stealing time and have to get back to work. Maybe one more entry before vacation next week; if I have something new to mention!

Personal Library Renaissance

We've been here before. I certainly know I've been here before, and I think I've dragged you with me. I have shelves groaning with books I haven't ready yet, a gift card burning a hole in my pocket (my half of the card, anyway), and I need to STOP CHECKING THINGS OUT.

So when I finish what I have now, no more libraries till at least after vacation. I have a short list of books from the shelves at home that I want to read before I check out again. It's time to rediscover my collection. Also, to finish reading all those books I've borrowed! So: The Age of Innocence, Edith Wharton. The Tiger in the Well, Phillip Pullman (at Katie's suggestion). Crispin, by Avi (Christmas present). Fitzwilliam Darcy, Gentleman: Volume 1 (Christmas gift). And a collection of Richard Yates' short stories that Brenda lent me. All these and much much more (I hope) before I lunge into my next library collection.

I just finished rereading Never Let Me Go (Kazuo Ishiguro) for book club, and I really hope everyone's willing to get on board with the discussion. A lot of people might not be able to come to the meeting, to the point where I'm thinking of rescheduling. But I think this book is deceptively simple, and I really hope there's a lot of good discussion.

And now I'm reading The Doomsday Book by Connie Willis, a classic sci-fi novel, to be followed by My Last Library Book for a While, Four Ways to Forgiveness, by Ursula LeGuin.

I fell down the stairs this morning and my back hurts. Wish me luck.

I Clearly Don't Know Myself

Well, I don't know what I was thinking, but I finished it.

Overall, I'm not too sorry. It was a bit of a slog there, but I don't think it was a real misdirection of the author's intention. In fact, I think that 100 pages shorter, the book would have been very good. I could have used a lot less of Nan's point of view--it was the weakest-written portion of the book (everything she thinks is spelled out and repeated and simplified), and adds the least to the story. Sara's viewpoint doesn't add very much, either, but she gives a dash of perspective on the family, since she's the most unlike the Setons. There's only a dash of Sara--there's WAY too much Nan.

Anyway, I did it. And then today we went to the Middletown library used book store. I got Inventing the Abbots, short stories by Sue Miller (I've never seen the movie), The Rapture of Canaan, which was the first Oprah book I ever read, and pretty good, and another Kazuo Ishiguro book (though I don't have The Remains of the Day yet).

But before I start those, I'm going to reread Never Let Me Go for book club. Next goal--go!

To Be or Not To Be

Yeah, this book (Before You Know Kindness) is just way too heavy-handed. Nan, the grandmother, likes having a therapist for a daughter-in-law because she's good with people, "even if sometimes it made them all more comfortable discussing their feelings than she'd like." Big flashing neon sign around how private and cool this character is? What about this one; she asks her son if he regrets leaving private practice to become a public defender. He says no, people need him in his new job and he likes that. "She found herself smiling because her son was happy...but also because he hadn't allowed their conversation to grow intimate with the sort of disclosure that just might have made both of them uncomfortable."

I don't need any more info about this woman, thanks. But in every passage about her--there are about seven characters the story follows--I get this poing HAMMERED home. Enough, already.

So I'm in a position that I find pretty rarely--I can't decide whether or not to finish the book. I'm on vacation, so my supply's a little limited--a couple of YA novels, a short Thurber book, C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity. Actually, I could and ought to get to rereading the book club book. But this isn't quite bad enough to give up without a qualm.

I think I'll switch over. If I find myself coming back to Kindness, I will, but otherwise, I'm going to leave it up to my gut. It's good for so little else.

Happy holidays, everyone!

Hello Kathy

Just to bug Kathy, this entry is all about her.

First, Jodi Picoult. Kathy recommended her, and for someone I've never read, a whole bunch of her books are suddenly on my "To Read" list. This is partly because, looking at the Amazon descriptions, half of them look interesting, and half of them sort of don't; I think that the family dramas sound less interesting than the more complex stories. They sound like they all center a bit around court battles and family issues. I've picked My Sister's Keeper, about a girl who was conceived as a bone marrow donor for her sister and sues her parents for medical emancipation, The Pact, about two teenagers who appear to have had a suicide pact, though only one of them is dead, and Plain Truth, as it is about Amish. I have a thing for Amish in the same way I have a thing for nuns.

Which, by the way, Kathy, I would like to specifically recommend The Nun's Story to you. I don't know if nuns are up your alley, but this book has the rich description and mediation coupled with a pretty engaging plot that I think would make it a recommendation. Also, just about my favorite book. It's by Kathryn Hulme--check it out.

Kathy is also the one who pointed out something that I was just beginning to notice about the book I’m reading, which she just finished. Before You Know Kindness, by Chris Bohjalian. I’ve decided he’s hit or miss. The Midwives was wonderful, and The Law of Similars was worth reading. But this book just drags and drags. I can only handle so many pages of closely observed family life and character studies, touched with some very heavy-handed characterization (he’s vegan, no one understands why. I get it.) before I start to wonder when the plot described on the flap is going to start. And it sounds like the answer is: it doesn’t exactly start--it happens, suddenly, about a third of the way through the book, and then the rest of the book is closely observed family life and character study in the aftermath of this information. I’m not convinced I’m going to finish this book; life’s too short.

That is all for now, I suppose. In conclusion, hi Kathy!