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 The Female of the Species: Tales of Mystery and Suspense by Joyce Carol OatesI've been reading more short fiction lately, and when another LT sent me this volume, well, I couldn't resist. I'm hoping to read more Oates this year anyway! The cover design of the hardcover edition of this collection should be a clue as to what this collection is all about. We can see a portion of the Caravaggio painting "Judith Beheading Holofernes" (1599) and this, along with the title, tells us exactly what these stories are all about --- the female of the species can be very, very dangerous. Most of these stories fall under the mystery or suspense category, although at least one, I think, would be classified as horror (you will never look at those mirrors in the store dressing rooms quite the same way again...). My favorite story of the collection is about a young girl who is haunted by rabbits in cages in the basement; however, while there are indeed cages in the basement where they live, they are empty. I found it interesting to read a series of stories where the women or girls are dangerous. And really, isn't it all about power? This is a good, outside-the-box sort of collection. Message edited by its author, Apr 5, 2009, 6:09pm.  Under the Frangipani by Mia Couto (fiction, Mozambique)When Mozambique became independent in 1975, Mia Couto interrupted his medical studies to become a journalist and newspaper editor. Later, he returned to his studies. He is now an environmental biologist and an author novels, short fiction, and poetry. (from the author bio in the book) Excellent extended bio HERE. In Under the Frangipani, a young police detective is called to an island fortress to investigate the murder of the magistrate. As he interviews the mostly elderly inhabitants, he finds him mired in a labyrinthine puzzle of sorts as each of the residents in turn seem to want to claim responsibility for the murder. As with other African writers I have read, Couto is using magical realism to integrate oral storytelling traditions and indigenous beliefs into his story, the result, is this case, is inventive language and storytelling. The division between the living and the dead is fairly porous in this story, as also the division between fantasy and reality. The inhabitants of the refuge, as it is called, speak in what I can only describe as part poetry, part puzzle, part lie, part truth. For the reader, it's like one of those Chinese finger traps, the more you struggle, the tighter it gets. The trick is, I discovered, is to stop struggling against it and read it more like poetry. If your patience allows, I'll explain. Come into the light a bit more. Don't be afraid of the smoke. Don't even fear getting burnt: There's no other way of listening to me. My voice grows weaker and weaker the longer I go on unravelling these confidences. Keep quiet as you listen to these stories. Silence makes the windows through which we glimpse the world. Don't write anything down, and leave that notebook on the ground. Be like water in a glass. He who is a drop always drips, he who is dew evaporates. Here in this refuge, your ears will grow bigger. For we live to talk. (from the inspector's first interview, p. 22). Ultimately, this original story has a lot to say about Mozambique, the present. There is something you come to understand in the telling. Once I settled into it, I really liked it, but it's probably not the kind of book for everyone. eta, this is a different kind of story than his Sleepwalking Land, more playful, I think. Message edited by its author, Apr 9, 2009, 8:58am.  Nadia by Assia Djebar, published originally in France as "La Soif" or "The Mischief," written in 1956.This is Assia Djebar first novel, written when she was just twenty years old. Perhaps I was judging a book by its cover, but I didn't have high expectations for it, but, on the other hand, this is the first novel of a woman who would win the Neustadt Prize and whose name gets mentioned in the same sentence with "Nobel" from time to time. Set in Algeria, Nadia tells the story of one young woman's summer escapades. Nadia has European looks and education, she is beautiful, arrogant, cynical, somewhat spoiled, and bored. She is rebelling against convention, and likes to think herself highly individual. She begins to play games and toy with the people around her in her own narcissistic way. But Nadia really doesn't have a solid sense of self and through tragedy she will be humbled and changed. I would be tempted to call this a coming-of-age novel, it certainly has many of those qualities, but her transformation feels a bit incomplete at the end. Nadia is a character who is difficult to warm to, although I did support her desire for freedom from convention, and was more sympathetic as her insecurities began to be revealed. What is remarkable about the book, is that it is nearly apolitical, with barely a mention of Algerian's war for independence going on at that time. However, some literary criticism seems to see in Nadia's quest for self-identity, a reflection of Algeria's own quest for identity. The book is interesting, but mostly, imo, because it is Djebar's first novel. I can see glimpses in this first, rather immature novel, of the writer that Assia Djebar will become. Message edited by its author, Apr 12, 2009, 1:35pm. Oh so true -- and 50s covers, especially pbs are so amazingly lurid -- like pulp magazines. Just a couple of examples that are totally inappropriate to the content of the books: This is Edith Pope's Colcorton, retitled Brutally with Love -- a serious novel about miscegenation and race relations in Florida:  and William Faulkner's The Wild Palms  I'm reading two hefty books now. The Seamstress is turning out to be a very good, detailed historical fiction set in early 20th century Brazil. And I've started, from the beginning, Elaine Showalter's A Jury of Her Peers: American Women Writers from Anne Bradstreet to Annie Proulx. I had been having some pain in my left thumb joints and it has recently occurred to me that this is from holding books open (I'm left-handed). These two books obviously require more careful handling . . . Early in the week, I bought a couple of new poetry books. Publishers put out a fair number of new poetry volumes in April because of the increased attention Poetry month gives them, so it's an ideal time to browse the shelves. I bought The Making of a Sonnet which features over 300 sonnets from the last 5 1/2 centuries. I also bought Poems from the Women's Movement, edited by Honor Moore. While I have quite a few of these poems in individual collections or anthologies, I like having them together in one volume like this. I expect to read this when I need a certain kind of inspiration. Finally, I bought Jay Parini's Why Poetry Matters. I'm looking forward to dipping into all of these...    Message edited by its author, Apr 15, 2009, 8:58am.  The Seamstress by Frances De Ponte PeeblesAs I mentioned elsewhere, I picked this book up first because of the title, second for the cover art (I have always loved to sew), and third because the story sounded interesting. The Seamstress tells the story of two sisters, Luzia and Emília, brought up by their aunt in Brazil's lawless northern backcountry during the early decades of the 20th century. Luzia is very tall, short-tempered, devout and has been cruelly given the nickname "Victrola" because an injury fused her elbow joint so that her arm is permanently in a bent position. Emília is pretty, even-tempered and forms her ideas of the world away from their small town through fashion magazines and romance novels. Both girls have been taught by their aunt to be seamstresses; their reputations as such are unrivaled. Both girls long to escape their situation. It is no spoiler to say that the girls' paths soon diverge when Luzia is taken by a gang of outlaw cangaceiros headed by the infamous "Hawk," and somewhat later, Emília unexpectedly marries very well and moves to live among nuevo rich in high society Recife. The story of each is riveting, for who can resist a story of a girl surviving among outlaws, or an unsophisticated girl surviving the throes of high society? It has been my experience that historical fiction seems to often fall in three categories. There is the kind of story which is totally character-driven with the historical setting a mere backdrop. There is the kind where the historical setting is so credible and prominent it almost figures as another character in the story. And then, there is the kind like The Seamstress which combines the very best of both. It is richly, detailed and offers the reader total immersion into 1920s & 30s Brazil - both the dry, lawless backcountry, and the rich, mannered high society of the city. And yet, it tells a similarly rich and detailed story of the sisters themselves and their relationships with the people around them. Like the two sisters, both parts of the story are inextricably linked. The Seamstress is a magnificent, mesmerizing historical fiction and debut novel. The reader very soon finds himself captive within its 650 or so pages, and is not released until the very end. But, unlike the cangaceiros, the story is merciful. . .  The Angel's Game by Carlos Ruiz ZafónWelcome to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books . . .This place is a mystery. A sanctuary. Every book, every volume you see, has a soul. the soul of the person who wrote it and the souls of those who read it and lived and dreamed with it. Every time a book changes hands, every time someone runs his eyes down its pages, its spirit grows and strengthens. In this place, books no longer remembered by anyone, books that are lost in time, live forever, waiting for the day when they will reach a new reader's hands, a new spirit... p. 461 Set in 1930s Barcelona, this gothic thriller tells the story of a writer named David Martin. As a boy, David has had a rough life, but his luck seems to change when, as a young teen, while running errands for the reporters at the local newspaper, he is noticed by one of the most notable of the reporters and a successful novelist, Don Pedro Vidal. A few words from Vidal and David is soon at the threshold of his own literary career. Soon he is moving into the strangely abandoned "tower house" that he used to see each day on his way to the newspaper. And before long, not content to write pulpish thrillers his whole life, David is soon drawn to the enigmatic and decidedly sinister foreign publisher, Andreas Corelli. Corelli makes David an offer that will make him rich and he is soon embroiled in something that he doesn't understand and must work to unravel. And yes, around page 100, we get to revisit the Cemetery of Forgotten Books, the place that enthralled so many of us in Ruiz's Shadow of the Wind. Ruiz is a terrific storyteller; he moves this thriller along and ratchets up the suspense so that the reader feels like she is on a train which is slowly accelerating until it is headed at breakneck speed towards the end of the line. This story (which has a high body count, btw) is decidedly gothic. It has the requisite crumbling old architecture, darkness, death, decay, dreaming, madness, secrets, and thwarted love...etc. (and it does seem to be raining quite a bit). Yet, I also thought it seemed sort of noirish --perhaps it was the tone of the first person narrative or perhaps it's the mostly 1930s setting --- I can't quite put my finger on it. The book is filled with great bits on religion, faith, fiction, literature and storytelling; and populated with more than a few book lovers. I suspect, the author owes a debt to Borges, to the gothic novels of the 19th century, and the pulps of the early 20th. It was a fun read, best saved for a rainy evening;-) Literature, at least good literature, is science tempered with the blood of art. -- David Martin in The Angel's Game, p. 205 Message edited by its author, Apr 27, 2009, 3:49pm.  The Year of the Flood by Margaret Atwood, forthcoming September '09Apologies in advance if this, because it is posted months ahead of publication, is a bit of a tease. It is year twenty-five, the year the waterless flood, a global pandemic, has swept across the earth. God’s Gardeners, a religious group who have dedicated themselves to the preservation of Earth’s plant and animal life, have long predicted it and have honed their survival skills for decades. Two women have survived the flood: Ren, a young trapeze dancer at Scales & Tails, a high end sex club, is locked in a comfortable isolation room at the club, and Toby, the manager of a luxurious spa, is barricaded there, and subsisting on some small food stocks and the edible spa treatments. Both women have lengthy past ties to God’s Gardeners. What will survival entail in a world which has become a strange, savage, and decaying place practically overnight? Atwood has created a inventive and riveting parallel story to that of Oryx, Crake and Jimmy, set in the same dystopian future in roughly the same time frame, except this story is set in the Pleeblands --- the rough urban areas outside of the secure corporate compounds we became familiar with in Oryx and Crake. The book is divided into thirteen chapters, each named after a holiday observed by God’s Gardeners (i.e. Saint Dian Day...as in Dian Fossey) and each with a short homily by the leader, Adam One, and an appropriate hymn for the occasion. In subchapters, the reader alternates between Ren and Tory’s survival in the present day, and the back story of their lives and that of God’s Gardeners. No twp stories set in the same time and place can be entirely detached from one another, and so this parallel story is not always, truly parallel and this and her previous novel slip back and forth across each other, but the “how” of this is best left to your own discovery. Atwood has created a mesmerizing story, filled with social commentary and a sharp gallows humor, yet also compassionate, thought-provoking, and ultimately hopeful. Message edited by its author, May 3, 2009, 9:02pm.  Leaving Tangier by Tahar Ben Jelloun (Morocco, Moroccan author)Leaving Tangier is a story about leaving one's country of origin. Actually, it's more about how one cannot truly leave their country behind. It tells the tale of a brother and sister, Azel and Kenza, both who wish to leave Morocco for greater opportunities in Spain. Azel has a degree in law and international relations but cannot find work. He drifts aimlessly, and becomes obsessed with leaving. When he meets a wealthy Spaniard who is attracted to him, he sees his way out of the country. Kenza will eventually join them in Barcelona. I thought this a powerful story of immigration, identity, disillusionment and danger. Azel struggles with a life that is not as he imagined it would be and his relationship with Manuel shakes up his sexual identity. Kenza, who is a trained nurse and talented dancer, is a bit more stable and adapts more easily. In alternating chapters the narrative gives us Azel and Kenza's stories while also telling the stories of other people who are connected to them. The picture we get of Morocco outside the tourist regions is that it is corrupt, exploitative, depressed and yet, through some of our characters we are drawn irresistibly to it. The book reminded me of two other books I'd read, Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits by Laila Lalami and Harbor by Lorraine Adams. The three books are complimentary, I think. Message edited by its author, May 12, 2009, 12:41pm.  The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yoko OgawaAfter recentlyreading and enjoying Ogawa's collection The Diving Pool, I was anxious to read more from this talented author, so I quickly picked up The Housekeeper and the Professor when it became available. This novel tells the story of an unnamed housekeeper, a single mother with a 10 year old son, who is sent by her agency to care for an aging mathematics professor. The professor had received a serious brain injury when hit by a car in 1975 and, as a result, his short term memory is limited to around 80 minutes. He can, however, remember before 1975 including his passion for numbers. Without giving any more details away, this is a beautiful story of living in the present, of the kind of families we create, and of the beauty and solace of numbers. note: I've never been much of a fan of mathematics. Only fairly recently did I enjoy a interdisciplinary class that included the fascinating connection between nature & mathematics. So, I felt a bit like the housekeeper in this story, piecing together what the professor was saying and discovering a kind of beauty, a kind of calmness.  Four Freedoms by John CrowleyThis is the story of the ordinary women and men who, for their various reasons, went to work for the war effort in a Oklahoma bomber factory during WWII. Crowley recreates the 1940s homefront in great detail; one almost might say in loving detail, as he tells the backstory of not only some of the workers at the Van Damme Aero plant in Ponca City, but also of the Van Damme brothers themselves, who masterminded the Pax B-30 bomber being built.* We hear how the war and the unusual opportunities it opened up affected people like Violet Harbison, a cattle rancher's daughter and talented baseball player; and Connie Wrobleski, a twenty year old single mom who comes to the factory looking for her husband; and especially Prosper Olander, a handsome, disabled young man whose legs are partially paralyzed due to spinal surgery in childhood. Crowley writes with skill, sensitivity and respect, and the book comes across as a kind of homage, a tribute to these women and men of the so-called "Greatest Generation." 4/5 *The Van Dammes, the Aero plant and the Pax B-30 are all fictional constructs. (was mostly offline for a few days, the router died...)  By the North Gate by Joyce Carol Oates (short fiction)The hardcover of this collection was published in 1963. This was Oates' first published collection and contains "In the Old World", her first published story, published in Mademoiselle in August 1959. My edition, recently acquired from BookMooch, is a paperback edition issued in 1971 after she had won the National Book Award. The fourteen stories contained in this debut collection, all written in the late 1950s and early 1960s, all have post-depression, rural American settings, many (or perhaps all) in the fictional and clearly ironically named "Eden County." Her characters are mostly the rural poor. Having read several of her more contemporary collections in the last year, I was struck with how often she tells a story in the voice or from the viewpoint of a child or adolescent. I was also, once again, struck with how amazingly observant she is and how eerily perceptive - and what a damn fine writer she was even as a college and graduate student. There were a couple of stories that bewildered me, and at least one I didn't care much for, but the others were very good and I thought two very powerful. In "A Legacy," a young girl named Laura is being taken by her father to see her brother a last time. As the story unfolds, the reader comes to understand, much better than Laura, just what the brother's situation is and why it is a "last time." But it is the child's perceptions and reactions as she struggles to understand which are so powerful (I'm trying to avoid spoilers here). The other story which stood out as both riveting and powerful turned out to be her first, "In the Old World" is a story of wrong, remorse and racism. The reader catches just a glimpse of something in the story, in one of the characters -- hope maybe, and then it's gone (many of these stories are written with a bit of mystery to them that Oates' slowly undresses). These collected stories seem to challenge American idealism and morality, and they seem to speak to the urges and desires secreted away in all of us.   The Robber Bride by Margaret AtwoodIn Grimm's tale of "The Robber Bridegroom", a cunning man lures young maidens away to his woodland lair and then cuts them up and eats them. Until, of course, he comes across a maiden who is more than a little skeptical and who, with the help of an old crone, avoids the trap and dramatically outs the murderer later on the day of their wedding. In The Robber Bride, Atwood turns the fairy tale on its head by creating a dastardly villain in the form of Zenia, a woman who skillfully manipulates other women and runs off with their husbands/boyfriends (which she then chews up and spits out). But Zenia is the foil against which she places Roz, Charis and Tony, now three middle-aged women who knew Zenia in college. Roz is a outgoing, assertive, successful entrepreneur and Tony is bookish history professor specializing in warfare. Charis is what one might call a free spirit, with an uncanny sense of knowing. She works in a shop which sells New Agey stuff like crystals and incense. The book begins by telling us that each of these women, although they hated Zenia for their own various reasons, attended her funeral five years ago upon the request of the dying woman (according to her lawyer). The women, who all live in the Toronto area, get together periodically for lunch, of late at a bistro named "Toxique". While dining and chatting, the women are shocked when Zenia walks into the bistro and takes a table across the room. This sets off a chain of events which Atwood slowly plays out for us, while giving us the backgrounds of Roz, Charis and Toni and their particular history with Zenia. The stories are not particularly upbeat, and Atwood laces the tale with some wicked and subtle humor which made me feel complicit so that I felt guilty everytime I snickered or giggled. We never hear Zenia's story except from the perspectives of the other characters, although she does speak in the book. There's a lot to think about in this provocative story, about power, moral choices, history, the difficulties of being 'liberated', our personal monsters, and especially about our relationships with other human beings. I think Atwood is also saying something about storytelling. As a final note, I add this excerpt from the beginning of chapter 17. Tony falls into thought while writing a presentation she will make at a future conference (we should note that Tony, who is a converted lefty, likes to write backwards, and enjoys palindromes): All history is written backwards.... We choose a significant event and examine its causes and its consequences, but who decides whether the event is significant? We do, and we are here; and it and its participants are there. They are long gone; at the same time, they are in our hands. Like Roman gladiators, they are under our thumbs. We make them fight their battles over again for our edification and pleasure, who fought them once for entirely other reasons. Yet history is not a true palindrome, thinks Tony. We can't really run it backwards and end up at a clean start. Too many of the pieces have gone missing; also we know too much, we know the outcome. Message edited by its author, Jun 12, 2009, 1:35pm.  Arctic Chill by Arnaldur IndridasonThis is the fifth of Indridason's urban Reykjavik police procedurals in English. A young Thai-Icelandic boy is found murdered, his body frozen to the January ice, in a garden not far from his home. His older brother has gone missing. Erlendur and his investigative team of Elinborg and Sigridur must piece together what few clues they have and dig for more through determined hard work and pavement-pounding. What lies just below the surface are simmering tensions around immigration and the issues involved, but are those tensions what leads to murder. Fans of the previous novels will enjoy these latest installment, if not for the satisfying police procedural and exploration of a contemporary issue that Iceland struggles with, then for a continuing look into the lives of our three detectives, particularly Erlandur who in earlier books came off as a bit of a loser. Message edited by its author, Jun 23, 2009, 9:31am.  If This Be Treason: Translation and Its Dyscontents by Gregory RabassaI started reading this over six months ago but set it aside to as not to distract myself from my project... thanks to rebeccanyc for this book. If This Be Treason is Gregory Rabassa's memoir about becoming and be a translator, and of the art of translating. Rabassa doesn't spend much time on his family or upbringing, but does, in hindsight, mention the things he experienced growing up as a child and as a young adult which seem to have contributed to his becoming a translator. He talks about the nicknames they were all given as children, his dabbling in languages in college, the cryptography he did during WWII. All of these stories laced with priceless bits about the art and occupation of translation. The second part of the book discusses each of the authors he has translated (he says 27, but I count 30 listed) and the fascinating challenges their particular work or works provided him. His first translation was Hopscotch by Julio Cortazar, which won the National Book Award (they once had a translation prize). I found the discussions of everything from word choice and style to the difficulty of translating slang and racial slurs all intriguing. While there are certainly some familiar authors here (e.g. Julio Cortazar, Gabriel Garcia Marguez and Antonio Lobo Antunes), there are certainly many I am not familiar with, including several women authors. "A piece of writing cannot be cloned in another language, only imitated." --Gregory Rabassa  My Driver by Maggie GeeClearly, I'm not going to get this review up before I leave for the convention... I've picked up The Mysteries of Winterthurn by Joyce Carol Oates... Message edited by its author, Jul 8, 2009, 8:05pm. Finally, I finished a book! (you know it's been too long when you can't find your thread on the list of Club Read threads!)  Living, Loving and Lying Awake at Night by Sindiwe Magona (South African author)This book is a collection of stories divided into two parts. The first part is a ring of connected, gossipy by black South African women working as domestic servants for whites. The pieces, which really highlight the different personalities of each women, and read like oral pieces (if that's possible) are written in first person and are directed to another of the women. I had the distinct feeling I had read these before, but I think the stories are similar to ones I read in '07 in a memoir called Singing Away the Hunger: The Autobiography of an African Woman by Mpho Matsepo Nthunya. The second part is comprised of several standard short stories set in the 60s through the late 80s, during the Apartheid system in South Africa, at least one story set during some of attempts at reforms in the 80s. The stories are bleak, often tragic, and several were very powerful. There was at least one I would deem "delightful". It was told by a young girl who detailed what her wonderful Fridays were like. This is an important collection, but I could not help but wonder about the stories now. I'm not so naive as to think that the vestiges of such a longtime segregation policy do not linger, but I wondered if the stories now were more hopeful. I will edit this post later to include an excerpt which I found wonderfully musical. I will probably return to the Oates, but one never knows. I seem to be drifting these days.   Being preoccupied with getting the first issue of Belletrista out, as fannyprice alludes to in #130, my personal reading has slipped considerably. On the up side, I have read some fabulous reviews and other writing for the 'zine; on the down side (if it really can be called a down side), my concentration for other reading has slipped somewhat. All that said, I recently completed the second in the mystery series by Spanish author Alicia Gimenez-Bartlett. In the second book, Inspector Petra Delicado and Sgt. Garzón are assigned to investigate the murder of a well-known television 'journalist' who made his living unearthing scandal on celebrities and those in power. It's a complicated case that straddles both Barcelona and Madrid. Our investigative twosome must tread delicately in some social circles, not something they are naturally inclined to do. Gimenez creates a lot of dialog between her characters, some of it business and some of it personal, and much of it laced with wit*. The twosome often bicker like an old married couple or pick on each other like siblings. Petra is outspoken and rarely obeys orders without some comment first. All this dialog serves to make her characters more credible and likeable; one can't help but develop an affinity for them. I'm a fan of Wallander, Rebus, Dalziel & Pascoe, Erlander, and Dalgleish (to name a few), and I'm adding Petra Delicado to the gang, she adds a bit punch and color. *Reginald Hill has some great wit in his mysteries also. Message edited by its author, Sep 29, 2009, 8:09pm. Continuing in a trend towards lighter or shorter reading:   My Soul to Take by Yrsa Sigurdardottir. Very good Icelandic mystery, 2nd in the series. Set in the countryside, and part ghost story, the 'detectives' are Thora, a city lawyer and divorced mother of two and her German boyfriend, a former detective, who is handicapped because he doesn't speak Icelandic. Not a police procedural, per se, as she's not the police, but the brainwork of an intensely curious person who is working without some of the usual information the police have is interesting (and yes, somewhat implausible). The author does a nice job infusing the book with bits of Iceland culture and history. "Genesis" (no touchstone) by NZ author Bernard Beckett. Novella-sized tale set in the far future. A young historian is being examined for four hours by a board. She hopes of being admitted to the esteemed Academy, the people who run their society. Her scholary expertise centers around a legendary figure known in their history as Adam, a young soldier who, when the island society walled themselves off from the rest of the plague-ridden world in the mid-21st century, failed to shoot on sight a solitary young girl who approached the sea fence in a small boat. In fact, he 'rescues' her. But the tale the historian tells is more about the consequences of Adam's actions, for, as punishment they lock the young man up with a robot-like artificial intelligence in an effort to allow the latter to interact and grow. What follows, once Adam gets over his anger and begins talking to the AI, is an extended conversation that leans towards the philosophical: what it means to be human, what is a 'machine', what is consciousness, what is a soul...and so on. I found some of this interesting, albeit tedious at times (for didn't we have these conversations in various Asimov novels and stories?). But Beckett, does have some interesting twists up his sleeve and an unexpected ending which made me forgive him for some of the tediousness I felt earlier. The book is hailed as 'original' which I was quite irked about at first. The intense examination of the scholar reminded me much of the academic review at the end of The Handmaid's Tale. The tale of a society walling itself off from the dangerous rest-of-the-world is not new, nor were the conversations between Adam & the A.I....but, it's not so much the components of Beckett's story that are new but it's the way he's mixed them together to tell the story for he tied it altogether quite nicely. Message edited by its author, Aug 30, 2009, 9:51am.  Decapolis: Tales from Ten Cities edited by Maria Crossan Authors & Cities: David Constantine/Manchester, Jacques Réda/Paris, Agúst Borgpór Sverrisson/Reykjavik, Empar Moliner/Barcelona, Aldo Nove/Milan, Dalibor Simpraga/Zagreb, Amanda Michalopoulou/Athens, Emil Hakl/Prague, Larissa Boehning/Berlin, Arnon Grunberg/Amsterdam I was introduced to this small, independent UK press (Comma Press) when I bought Rob Sherman's (shearrob) first collection Tiny Deaths. I admit I bought this anthology solely for the Amanda Michalopoulou story, which seems to be her only other publication in English besides her clever collection I'd Like which rachbxl and I so much admired. Ten stories set in ten cities by ten international youngish authors (most seem to be born in the later 60s and 70s). Many of the stories are translated. Except for references specific to the city of a story's setting, I couldn't detect any individual 'feel' for any one city or another. Thus, these stories come across as essentially urban tales and perhaps it is the commonality of the urban experience that stands out as a whole. As with most anthologies, there are some stories I liked better than others. The Michalopoulou story, "The Four Hundred Pleats" is one I liked. It's a tale of a graduate student, who after finishing her studies in the UK, reluctantly returns to Athens where she crosses paths with one of the stone-faced, elaborately dressed guards at the Parliament (I'll post a picture).  The story tells of her interaction with him (he's not supposed to respond while on guard...) and trails off into a kind of fantasy which I won't give away. Others I really liked were "A Man of the Streets" which follows one young man's interaction — relationship, if you will — with Georges Louis, a homeless man living on the streets of Paris. "The First Day of the Fourth Week" - is one day in the life of an unemployed man in Reykjavik. "Something for Nothing", set in Berlin, is about the relationship between a young woman and an older, overweight, middle-aged man she buys an "orangey red Swallow moped" from. At one point he takes her to an abandoned factory in what was East Berlin, a scene I found really interesting. I won't belabor my review by listing all the storeies :-) There were only a few of the ten that I didn't respond to. Overall, a nice collection and nice sampling of international writers (note to self: must look for more work by Larissa Boehning). Message edited by its author, Sep 7, 2009, 12:01pm.  A Peculiar Grace by Jeffrey LentI read Lent's earlier two superb historical fictions, but hadn't moved forward with his newer stuff which are contemporary stories — until the other day. The premise of the novel is laid out practically on the first page - damaged, immature and solitary middle-aged man meets screwed-up, possibly crazy young woman and both their lives are changed because of it. It seemed a bit of a cliched theme. Well, I thought, there's nothing more to say about it, is there? I was wrong. Hewitt Pearce lives the quiet life in rural Vermont. He's an artist of sorts, a blacksmith, pounding out iron on the old family homestead while he still lingers over thoughts of the girl he loved at 17 (the one who dumped him). His father was a painter, his mother an Irish immigrant. If Howard needs something in town, he takes the tractor, as he doesn't drive a car. Into his life one day comes Jessica Kearns, a twenty-something vagabond who hasn't had a bath in quite awhile, and who just might be a bit nuts. But that's just the first layer of a surprisingly multi-layered, beautifully written story about one middle-aged man's inner life (my husband assures me that this is a fantasy:-). The book is about processing, letting go, and growing up; about fathers & sons, inheritance, about rootedness and freedom, and about the healing powers of art and, yes, love. About the time you think you've seen everything in these people's lives, Lent peels off another layer, unveils another secret. There is a lot stuffed in this one book. The book is beautifully written. Lent has a remarkable ability to describe things - it's genuinely arresting at times. Although I wouldn't call his prose lyrical, it is poetic. It has certain organic rhythms and dispenses a kind of compelling, simple wisdom that comes from insightful observation. While at the bookstore, I hosted Lent twice, at least. I know he is a big fan of Faulkner, and I know he is often compared to Faulkner and other more contemporary authors. I haven't read enough Faulkner to comment on that, but I do think he is an under-appreciated author, who might get pegged as 'regional'. And that would truly be a damn shame.  2009 will go down as my Joyce Carol Oates year, I think. You know they say regular Oates helps your cholesterol go down. . . :-) It had not seemed like an entirely quixotic plan to write a sequence of "genre" novels linked by political, cultural, and moral (especially "feminist") themes, set in a long-ago/mythic America intended to suggest contemporary times: a Gothic family saga, a nineteenth-century 'romance," a saga of Gothic horror . . . and a "novel of mystery and detection." It had not seemed quixotic — but then, it never does, for otherwise we would not have outsized and unclassifiable works of art, of any kind — to hope that there might be readers for such novels, that seek to transform what might be called psychological realism into "Gothic" elements . . . Joyce Carol Oates in the Author's Afterword for Mysteries of Winterthurn. I include the excerpt above because the author herself does a fine job of describing this superb novel. Mysteries of Winterthurn is a collection of three inter-related stories - mysteries - cases 'solved' by the renowed American detective Xavier Kilgarven. Our narrator is a private collector of "Murder", as he puts it, an amateur expert, looking back upon the time of these 'cases' in the late 19th century. He tells the tales with a wonderful, heightened language and much omniscience (considering he is just a 'collector'). He leads the reader down a merry path (ok, 'merry' may not be the right word here) with many a short excursion hinter and yon. It's delightfully frustrating (of course, I know that is an oxymoron!) when the reader is anxious about the fate of our hero, or the verdict of a jury. Winterthurn is a small city, full of large family estates with their pedigreed occupants (the Kilgarvens are but one of them), and all of the other things a bustling American city of the late 19th century might have (i.e. mills, millworkers, boarding houses, cottages, churches . . .). Xavier is a young man who has not yet left the city to find fame and fortune in Manhattan in the first tale, and middle-aged in the last. There is something that plagues him internally about these mysteries in his home town. There is certainly a lot I could say about why I so enjoyed Winterthurn — in short,it is an wonderfully entertaining, thought-provoking novel. In the afterward, Oates talks briefly about why we are attracted to classic Gothic tales, a sort of acting out of an inner reality (my paraphrase). I find myself mulling that from time to time and really enjoying the mull when I do! Strangely, I read this book over the course of about two months. I would read a chapter or two and then set it aside while I read something else. I'm not sure why I did that, it certainly was not out of disinterest, but I don't regret reading it in such a way. This is a not-for-everyone novel, I suppose, but it has become, I think, my favorite Oates work. Message edited by its author, Sep 26, 2009, 8:41pm. The Hunter by Julia Leigh  I read Leigh's Disquiet some time ago and enjoyed it, so when I came across her first novel in a publisher's catalog, I was curious. The Hunter is the story of a man, known only to the reader as "M", who is hired to kill and obtain genetic material from what is believed to be the last Tasmanian tiger. His base camp, such that it is, is a rented room from a family who lives on the very outskirts of the jungle. The man of that house, a naturalist, who claimed to a few that he had seen the tiger, never returned from his last excursion and is assumed long dead. "M" uses the name Martin David and claims also to be a naturalist. The story follows M on his long excursions into the jungle in great detail. We are in this guy's head for nearly all 170 pages. There are some moments where I found myself completely mesmerized in this tale of obsession, survival — of predator-prey — and other times where I felt I was spending way too much time in this guy's head. But still, I kept on reading! I think this would be a fascinating book club choice, but I suspect most bookclubs might not be able to get past the cruder aspects of The Hunter (i.e the skinning of animal in detail). It's a fascinating character study, and I try to imagine the same story with the hunter as a female. What would be different? See, I love a book that gets me thinking. . .  Jamilia by Chingiz Aitmatov (Kyrgyzstani author)Published in 1958, Jamilia was the novel that drew the world's attention to Chingiz Aitmatov. My copy does not say what language it was translated from, but the author wrote in both Kyrgyz and Russian. Jamilia is a lovely story told to us by the young teenager Seit, who remains the only son still on the farm after his brothers have been called to war (WWII, I believe). Each day, Seit and his young, beautiful and high-spirited sister-in-law, and Daniyal, a former soldier who was wounded on the battlefield, load their wagons full of bags of grain for the war effort and haul them to the train station. With this as his set, and the Kyrgyzstan countryside as his backdrop, Seit tells us this love story, a story of which he has been a part of, but yet, also a story that feels older somehow. I think this is what I enjoyed most about this short book, the feeling that the story is something of folklore or myth. Message edited by its author, Sep 27, 2009, 8:46am.  Little Bird of Heaven by Joyce Carol Oates4.5/5 Zoe Kruller, a beautiful young mother and bluegrass singer, is found brutally murdered in her apartment which she shared with a woman friend. Taken into custody and questioned as "persons of interest" are her estranged husband, Delray, and her married lover, Eddie Diehl. As the investigation continues, neither are arrested and charged with the murder, and a cloud of suspicious hangs over both men which shapes their lives from thereon in. JCO loves tragedy, she considers it the highest form of art, and here again she explores it, like a knife probing an open wound. Not everyone is up for such a read, but I find her stories a bit like the equivalent for the brain, of rubbing a crisp, fresh, cotton towel across my skin - it's rough and hurts a bit, but ultimately is refreshing and invigorating. Little Bird of Heaven is told in basically two parts. The first is by Krista Diehl, now grown daughter of the murdered woman's lover. She tells the story beginning well before the murder and her voice seems to move back and forth from the little girl who adoringly loves her daddy to a teenager and back to adult. (Oates often tells her stories from the viewpoint of children and teens, it's an interesting discussion point... why?). While reading this I could not help but think about how unreliable our memories are, how we shape them and rewrite as we grow older. The other half of the book is told by Aaron Kruller, the son of the murdered woman and Delray, the other suspect. It is Aaron who finds his mother's naked dead body in the apartment and in his shock covers it with talcum powder. Aaron also begins his story well before the murder, and we see how the little boy Aaron becomes the troubled teen know as "Krull." It is a story of the fathers, the families, but it is more a story of the two children, imo, and both of these stories are mesmerizing in themselves. Despite each child being convinced that the other man, not their father, was the murderer, I found myself shifting my suspicion back and forth between the men. Both men's lives are slowly worn down and destroyed by just that, constant suspicion. There's so much in this book one could talk about. As I mentioned before, reading this is a lot like probing an open wound. There is violence and passion and oftentimes the two are so mixed as to be indistinguishable. The tragedy of the story seems almost classical, the ending cathartic. The reader cannot help be shaken — and stirred.  Hypothermia by Arnaldur IndridasonThis arrived in my mailbox Saturday just as I was looking for something to read. This is the fifth of Indridason's Reykjavík mystery series to be translated into English. There is no doubt now that I am hooked and not only that but I've been reading them in tandem with Yrsa Sigurdardottir's mysteries! The police are called to a countryside cottage to find a woman hanging from the beams of its sitting room, a clear case of suicide. The woman is from Reykjavik and soon Erlendur is called in to speak to the family and tie up any loose ends. When one of the woman's friends hands him a taped seance that involves the dead woman, Erlandur's curiosity is piqued and he sets about doing a little informal investigation off the record. Things are a bit slow down at the station apparently, because Erlendur starts to dabble in some missing person cases from the 70s, after he receives a visit from a father of one of the missing people. Anyone who has read the earlier books will under Erlendur's personal obsession with the search for missing persons. The story only has cameos from Erlendur's two sidekicks this time around due to the informality of his investigation, but the story is filled in with some family stuff as his daughter, Eva Lind, seems determined for her parents to get together and be civil to one another. And readers of the previous books we also understand just how well that should work out. This is yet another great, entertaining mystery in Indridason's series, in each, as with the Sigurdardottir's, we get bits and pieces of Icelandic culture and history in each (it's the food I noticed in this one). It occurs to me that maybe his translator is different now than the earlier books? (must check on that). Message edited by its author, Oct 4, 2009, 3:48pm.  Death Rites by Alicia Giménez-BartlettAnother installment in the Inspector Petra Delicado mystery series by Spanish author Giménez-Bartlett. I thought this was the third, but certainly the chronology places it at the beginning. We get the story of Petra's beginnings at the police departments and her first case with with the Sgt. - to find a serial rapist who makes his victims on the arm with something barbed and circular. There seems to be more personal information in this installment and at times I thought it bogged down the crime-solving story, but then, I'm now fond of the two characters, and Giménez-Bartlett goes for a bit more realism than most - she shows a lot of the footwork and frustrations, wrong turns and the rare moments of insight.  Nectar in a Sieve by Kamala MarkandayaNow considered a classic, this 1954 novel and bestseller tells the story of Rukmani, the 4th daughter of a village headman in Southern India who is married at the age of 12 to a tenant farmer. What follows is moving story of dignity in the struggle to survive poverty, various disasters and change as we follow her into old age. It's a quick read and I often felt I had read it before... Of note in the book is it's treatment of women's sexuality (it was written in the early 50s) and the character of Rukmani. It has been likened to Cry the Beloved Country, but it's been a long time since I've read that so I can't comment. It did remind me a bit of Buchi Emecheta's work, at least in theme. Message edited by its author, Oct 27, 2009, 9:15am.  This is a collection of short fiction divided into two sections. The first section is five stories, the second section is several interconnected stories. This is the most recent work of Neustadt Prize winning author Assia Djebar. The interconnected stories in part 2 center around the life of one French woman named Félicie who long ago married an Algerian man and lived in Algeria. In the first story, she is in the hospital in a coma and her son is talking to her. In the process we are told her story and his from his point of view. The second story is told from the youngest daughter's point of view. And so on. She eventually dies and there is a larger family conference to decide where to bury her - in France or in Algeria next to her husband. To do the latter, they must change her first name and declare her a Muslim. It's an enlightening story but it didn't really grab me in the way that the stories in the first part did... I read most of the stories in the first part of the collection while sitting in the jury room of Lowell District Court. The story "Burning" is about a young (married) woman, known only as Isma, who is in hiding from the authorities. She is asked to assist a young Somali man in recording the songs of Berber women. She falls in love with him. In "The Attack" a former professor of French has gone 'underground' and, despite attempts on his life, is still writing opposition pieces for the newspapers. The story is told from the point of view of the anxious wife. In "The Woman in Pieces", Djebar links a story from One Thousand and One Nights to the present (of the story) through a young woman teaching various translations of it. These are powerful stories about war, about identity and home, about women's lives caught in conflict - the external and the internal. And, as with most of Djebar's work, there is much about language. Three or Four of these stories have stayed with me over the last week... (I may have to revise this some later...it's awfully piecemeal...) Message edited by its author, Nov 10, 2009, 7:30am.  The Wordy Shipmates by Sarah Vowell (nonfiction, audio, US author)Sarah Vowell has perfected a kind of geeky, dry and deadpan humor that is only enhanced by her lispy voice (which is exactly why I had to listen to this on unabridged audio). But, that said, do not think that this tale of America's Puritan beginnings is any less researched and serious than, say, Nathaniel Philbrick's Mayflower. Vowell explores the Puritan settlement in New England using many of their own words (thus, the title - Wordy Shipmates). She tells us a well-researched story liberally including quotes from journals, letters and documented court cases. On audio, they have used several male actors' voices for the different men she is quoting. She injects her characteristic wit and personal anecdotes along the way. The point of her book, imo, is to show us that "there's nothing new under the sun" and that our national behaviors of today can seen way back in the early part of the 16th century. It's fascinating ...and very entertaining. I think one would have to have interest in early American history though to enjoy this. Why I read this now: (shamefully stealing this from Nickelini). I bought this for travel listening. I listened to half a few months ago and was able to finish it on a trip to Maine a few days ago. I spent parts of '07, '08 and the early part of this year studying in New England history and this book fits in nicely. Yesterday, I picked up a hardcopy of the book in case I need to refer back;-) I've been busy doing several creative projects since Belletrista's issue 2 has come out, and sometimes when I'm in these creative jags I find it hard to settle down with a book. I'm having a tough time getting into A. L. Kennedy's Day, but I seem to be able to settle into a good police procedural... On another note, my 27 year old daughter has decided that she will be spending her March spring break (from teaching 8th grade science) working on an organic farm in Sweden. She has not read any Nordic crime novels, so she still thinks the country is serene and scenic;-)  Sun and Shadow by Ake EdwardsonThis is the first book in Edwardson's series of Erik Winter crime novels translated into English. I commented on book 3 in #194. I knew from reading book 3 that Edwardson follows a fair number of police officers/detectives, sometimes referring to them by last name, other times by first name - so this time I kept a list. There were 7 officers mentioned, a few others in more minor roles and some family members. I did refer to it from time to time, so I think it helped. Erik Winter is the youngest DCI on the force and he is approaching his 40th birthday. His father is ill in Spain and his pregnant partner is moving in with him. In the midst of this personal turmoil, a gruesome double murder occurs - a middle-aged couple is found naked, sitting on their livingroom sofa, holding hands, and very, very dead. Thus begins a complex case that will delight fans of police procedurals like Mankell and P.D. James. Again, like in the previous book I read of Edwardson's, the footwork seems frustratingly slow - more for the police than the reader, of course - and the suspense builds slowly. Although, at the beginning I speculated "who dunnit" correctly, as it turns out, Edwardson succeeded wonderfully in making me doubt my own speculations. Message edited by its author, Nov 24, 2009, 11:38am.  American Salvage by Bonnie Jo Campbell National Book Award finalist.This is an excellent collection of short fiction that centers around the lives of rural Michigan people. The stories were so absorbing that I read it straight through - nearly in one sitting last night (I finished the last few stories first thing this morning). I may review it for Belle, so I'll leave it at that. >211 I think you might like it, rebecca. While not uplifting, I did not find it depressing - considering the down-and-out characters. It's amazing that in so few pages she can make you care about some of them...  Bright-Sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking has Undermined America by Barbara EnrenreichThis is a fascinating look at the positive-thinking philosophy in its various forms that has so permeated American culture. Ehrenreich explores the 19th century roots of this cultural trend and examines its pervasive tendrils into the atmosphere around breast cancer treatment, corporate America and the workplace, the newer forms of Christianity (i.e. Joel Osteen), trends in psychology and yes, our economics. She also examines the "science" being used to booster the philosophy and the commercial industry that has grown up to support it. While she is not against the idea of positive-thinking, she makes us aware of its dangers, both culturally and personally, and advocates a healthy skepticism and a 'vigilant realism.' It's a short, thoughtful 200 pages. Now, I'm going to peruse the latest "demotivators" catalog...  The Luminous Depths by David HerterAt the end of 2008 I read the first novella in Herter's trilogy, On the Overgrown Path which was a wonderful dark fantasy and mystery featuring the Czech composer Janacek. This second book begins in the early 1920s with the arrival of Dr. Brod and Franz Kafka at Janacek home. There Kafka is introduced and he produces a mysteries "stave flower" - a folded parchment with many points covered in what seems to be tiny musical notations. Kafka tells him that it fell from the sky and hit him in the chest. With it came an ominous vision of the future. Now forward ahead to 1930. Composer Pavel Haas, a former student of Janacek is working with Karel and Josef Capek on a revival of their play, R.U.R or Rossum's Universal Robots. After an evening of camaraderie with the Capeks at a local restaurant, Pavel is on his way home when what looks like a paper star flower floats down from the sky and hits him in the chest. He pockets it. Later the next day, when during the play rehearsal he unfolds it, the theater goes dark. . . What begins now is a gripping fantastical tale that I would prefer not to spoil for you. Herter is actually quite a fine writer. He has created a sense of place and character and - atmosphere rich with period details, musical details, historical details. You are there in the theater with Haas, the Capeks, the other costumed actors. You are there when the lights go out, and you are there for what comes after... Both books are very well done and I'm really looking forward to the third! 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