2009 books reviewed on my first thread:

1. Agincourt, Bernard Cornwell
2. Couldn't Keep It to Myself, Wally Lamb, (ed.)
3. The Mistress of the Art of Death, Ariana Franklin
4. Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress, Dai Sijie
5. Ella Minnow Pea, Mark Dunn
6. The Book Thief, Markus Zusak
7. Medicus: A Novel of the Roman Empire, Ruth Downie
8. Ex Libris, Anne Fadiman
9. Unaccustomed Earth, Jhumpa Lahiri
10. The Color of Magic, Terry Pratchett
11. Collected Stories of William Faulkner
12. The Yellow-Lighted Bookshop, Lewis Buzbee
13. Soft Spots, Clint Van Winkle
14. The Wapshot Chronicle, John Cheever
15. The Convict and Other Stories,, James Lee Burke
16. Death at La Fenice, Donna Leon
17. Wintergirls, Laurie Halse Anderson
18. Good Omens, Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
19. The Worst Hard Time, Timothy Egan (no review)
20. Sanctuary, William Faulkner

2009 books reviewed on this thread:

21. Death in a Strange Country, Donna Leon
22. The Boys in the Trees, Mary Swan
23. Cut, Patricia McCormick
24. Dressed for Death, Donna Leon
25. The Shape of Water, Andrea Camilleri
26. The Wapshot Scandal, John Cheever
27. Sharpe's Fortress, Bernard Cornwell
28. Death of an Englishman, Magdalen Nabb
29. Death of a Dutchman, Magdalen Nabb
30. Complete Short Stories, Truman Capote
31. Field of Blood, Denise Mina
32. The Cellist of Sarajevo, Steven Galloway
33. Requiem for a Nun, William Faulkner
34. Death in Springtime, Magdalen Nabb
35. The Lovers, John Connolly
36. You Know You're a Writer When . . ., Adair Lara
37. The Light Fantastic, Terry Pratchett
38. Death and Judgment, Donna Leon
39. The Angel's Game, Carlos Ruiz Zafon
40. In the Woods, Tana French

Your host for this thread, as always, is the lovely and gracious Charlie.

Message edited by its author, Jul 26, 2009, 4:19pm.

Aah, a new start on a clean piece of electric paper without those unsightly erasure marks, coffee and soda stains, and the occasional drool when I nod off.

* * * * *

21. Death in a Strange Country, Donna Leon

Joycepa got me started on this series and I'm glad she did. This is the second in the series, and I think it was much better than the first one, Death at La Fenice. The latter was more Agatha Christieish, meaning there were only so many suspects and it had to be one of them.

Death, however, had twists and turns galore with no dearth of suspects—Italian (all of them), American (from an Army base), and Sicilian (who are not considered Italian by many Italians.)

Leon's superb writing displays her love of Venice, what pollution and industrial waste are doing to destroy it, and especially of her protagonist, Guido Brunetti—one of the gentlest detectives I've ever come to know. As he walks the streets of Venice to think and let off steam, we see the city through his eyes; he is a native and knows the city intimately, but he's delighted when he notices something new for the first time. And so am I, the reader.

Other characters in the series who provide relief and humor are Vice-Questore Patta, Brunetti's boss and the ultimate bureaucratic bureaucrat, and Brunetti's wife Paola, his lover and friend but also a no-nonsense woman.

I have the next three books waiting in the wings, just a tad off stage left, and reading them will be like returning to old friends.

4½ stars.

Let me be the first friend to say "Thank you for inviting me to your new thread!"
--BJ

"Light up that yellow star at the top of the page"? really??? you sure??? oh well. Okay. :P

Your star always burns brightly in my universe.

So, have you finished Boys in the Trees yet? That's one of those books that I picked for the cover and the first chapter and think I may read again--not because it's such a great book, but because...well, I want to read your comments first before I say anything more.

#3. You're welcome, BJ. What would I do without the LT Official Cheerleader? (Maybe they'll make a bobble-head doll out of you.)

#4. You know, Eliza, for someone who claims to be a nerd, you're kind of a smart-ass nerd. If turning on the yellow star causes you to sprain your arm or something, then just forget it. (Have someone do it for you.)

#5. I'm going to treat that as a sweet sentiment, Linda *blush*. If you don't mean it as a sweet sentiment, then refer to the first sentence of #4.

#6. I have about 70 pages left in Boys, so that will be my next review. Right now, I'm not really sure where it's going.

I'm lazy, I bookmark the page. I need to follow the fun and entertainment.

#7 I can be nice. Smart-ass is easier, but I can be nice.

We have a bobble-head doll of our favorite football player, Vince Young. He looks distinguished. Somehow I think that I would not look distinguished as one. But you never know!

By the way, did you know that it is only 4 1/2 months until football season?
--BJ

22. The Boys in the Trees, Mary Swan

Frankly, I don't quite know how to review this book without giving something away about the story and its characters. I can say that Swan writes lyrical prose, but her frequent use of allegory and symbols confused both me and the characters themselves: which events were real and which were not? I believe Swan did this intentionally, but it made the story non-cohesive because she left characters never to return and story threads hanging without explanation.

The story takes place in the late nineteenth century in the small fictional town of Emden, Ontario. All the publicity over this book refers to a horrendous crime that takes place there, but to me the crime is merely the catalyst for the real story: the effects it has on the friends and neighbors of the deceased.

The usual questions are asked: "Should I have seen it coming?" "Could I have done something to prevent it?" "Am I in some way at fault?" And most of all the question, "Why?"

Even though Swan writes in both the third person and (mostly) POV, she ignores the "Why" and the perpetrator altogether. Frustrating at best, given that Swan spends much POV time on a young woman who becomes an ardent WCTU-type, has nothing to do with the crime's aftermath, and is superfluously dropped.

This technique of Swan's, of dropping and picking up characters, may possibly be her genius and the theme of the book: dust to dust, we're here one minute and then we're gone, memories fade away and, ultimately, we're forgotten. In possibly the best chapter near the end of the book, an old man who was a boy at the time of the crime and his wife are talking:

"Think what you remember," Jenny said. "What do you really remember, of when you were five, or eight, or ten. Would it be what your parents thought you would remember? What they wanted you to?" And in the paper-strewn kitchen in the middle of the night they talked about how strange it was, that the person you were was perhaps formed most by all that you had forgotten. (Italics are the author's.)

So I finish this review as I began it: I don't quite know how to review this book. Is The Boys in the Trees a work of genius or is it a cobbled-together mish-mash of short stories? In either case it is a sad and depressing story, a confusion of people with little or no hope—except, that is, for the . . . trees.

3 stars.

One thing that I took from all the multiple points of views/stories was that we don't always know how or who is going to be affected by our actions. Also, it made me think sadly of how much we are impacted by, and even reenact, what happens to us as children, even as we are fighting to be different.

Good review, but I don't need another sad book for awhile.
--BJ

Terrific review, Charlie. And following right along in its spirit, I don't know whether I want to read the book or not. I suspect I'll have to satisfy my curiosity, though. I love the question "What do you really remember of your childhood?" There are things I think I remember that are probably just the product of my brain re-creating an event I've heard talked about or seen in photos.

#12. Yes! to both of your observations. We constantly make decisions, most of them little, but we may not give enough (or any) thought to the larger ones.

As children, we're pretty much locked in to authority figures—parents or caretakers, teachers, clergy. I think parts of what happens to us as kids stick with us throughout life—perhaps subconciously, but they are there.

Am I mistaken, or do you have a review of The Boys to post?

#14. Thanks, Linda, and I suspect you will want to satisfy your curiosity.

Your last sentence is quite true according to Swan. In a chapter titled "Long Exposure," our memories change even when we look at old familiar photographs—lighting, body language, and in Swan's story, the position of hands.

#15. Ouch! You caught me! :-)

Only because I'm interested in what you thought of the book, Bonnie. If you don't want to post one, that's fine—I'm not coming to Seattle to twist your arm or anything.

No, I'm laughing! I'm such an emotional reader. I should really post my comments while I'm reading, because I'm terrible at trying to summarize my thoughts and feelings at the end of the book. Then, later, the "gist" of what I read months/years before reflects more about me than the book itself, so I like hearing--and responding to--the reactions of others.

I have to post my comments right away. A day later I don't have the same feel for the book.

>20 Absolutely---if I wait, as I have now done with Confederates in the Attic, I'm on to something else, and may never get around to recording my thoughts. Oh well, today is a day at the office, so as Charlie has pointed out, I'll probably compose something in my "free time"!

I liked your review Charlie right down to the "mish-mash".
Also bonniebooks, I liked what you had to say. Sadly enough some of us fight that fight daily throughout the entirety of our lives. There are occurrences I remember from when I was 2 years of age.
laytonwoman3rd, enjoy your "free time" today. I never seemed to find much of that at the office.
wildbill, doncha know nothing feels the same the next day.
--BJ ***waves madly***
Well, need to get the grandsons off to school. Enjoy your day everyone.
Catcha later Charlie.

Belva,
***Waves Wildly***

Charlie, your thread is such the place to be!!! You are so much fun!!!
--BJ

I've been missing for a little bit because of some health issues (PC for feeling like crap), but I do have some comments on your comments.

As far as writing a review as soon as I finish a book, sometimes I do and sometimes I don't, depending how I feel on the emotion-o-meter. I usually need to sleep on a high-emotion book like The Boys in the Trees, Wintergirls, and The Book Thief so that I know what feelings "stuck" or maybe went unnoticed.

Other books, like mysteries, are pretty low on the meter, so I write those right away.

So what's with all this waving going on? I can feel the draft all the way from WA and OK.

jealous charlie?

Hey Charlie,
Watcha readin' since The Boys in the Trees? After my humbling "gotta put it down" of Crime and Punishment, I read Purple Hibiscus which was wonderful. It also had violence but of a different nature and one in which I am very well versed. But by then I was in such need of a soul soothing read that I went to my book shelves and dug through (literally, cuz they are crammed all hither and thither) until I found my copy of Anne of Green Gables. It is doing the trick and I am reading it very slowly and really savoring all of Anne's little quirky sayings and imaginings. I had forgotten how truly marvelous this one is.
dihiba and jfetting are reading along with me so it is like a little mini-group read which is fun.
I am so glad that I found LT. I appreciate it and whoever set it up because it is just amazing what it has brought into my life.
You take care Charlie.
We all care about you and want to be seeing your smart arse cracks on here, ya hear me?
N/B

Hey Charlie,
just me N/B again. I was skulking out and about on this challenge and came on to this and it made me think of you.
I stole it off destinyhascheatedme's thread. It was quoted from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night.

"take him and cut him out in little stars
and he will make the face of heaven so fine
that all the world will be in love with night. . ."

23. Cut, Patricia McCormick

McCormick's first novel (published in 2000) is a small book, both in format (5" x 7") and page count (151). Its intended audience is female 'tweens and young teens.

Callie, 15, is a "cutter"—she cuts her arms with her mother's Exacto craft blade and wears long sleeves to hide the scars. When she inexplicably cuts her palm, she ends up in Sea Pines, a residential treatment facility. For the first 50 pages, Callie talks to no one—not her therapist, her Group, or any of the attendants—no one. As one super-jerk reviewer said, the story is told from "inside Callie's own head." Unwilling to allow anyone to help her help herself, the story is more about her group-mates: one very obese girl, two anorexics, two drug addicts, and later on another cutter, Amanda, who proudly displays her scars and talks about the "exquisite pain" and "control" of cutting. Swell. Just the right message for thirteen-year-old girls.

McCormick writes well—she ought to, considering she spent three years researching and writing this tiny book—but the term "mental illness" is never mentioned. Not once. On page 4, Callie tells us about Sea Pines from inside her own head,

"We, by the way, are called guests. Our problems are called issues. Most of the girls are anorexic . . . Some are druggies . . . The rest, like me, are assorted psychos. We're called guests with behaviorial issues. The nurses are call attendants. And the place is called a residential treatment facility. It is not called a loony bin."

Swell doubled. Callie is a psycho in a looney bin. She does not have a mental illness, and she is not a patient in a hospital. We learn nothing about the etiology (cause) of Callie's cutting until we're ¾ through the book: **SPOILER** Callie cuts herself as punishment for causing her little brother's asthma. Can you say lame?

Cutting is a serious illness, but this book is not the place for either girls or their parents to garner any information about it. Despite 3 pages of "Raves for Cut" by idiot reviewers, I believe a more appropriate title would be Nancy Drew and the Case of Issues.

Boy, that was a close one: I posted my review and two minutes later LT crashed. Too many bells and whistles, folks, way too many needless database comparisons for a too-weak system.

So you don't yell at me again, Linda, the review was saved in Word and on the clipboard. **Charlie sticks out tongue**

#26. So what am I reading now? A couple of lighter things: a Donna Leon mystery and the third book in Bernard Cornwell's Richard Sharpe India trilogy. But I've got some heavier "stuff" coming up.

#27. Thank you, Belva, for the quote—I know exactly what you're referring to, but I hardly deserve it...

Wow, regarding your review; talk about how to get a wrong message across! And guess what????? This book is probably in most school libraries, wanna bet???
My dog chewing up a sock instead of her toy is an "issue". Someone harming or obsessing on harming themselves or another has an "illness".
Hey, wanna read Anne of Green Gables with me? Might put a big old smile on your face.
(and do any of us really deserve anything?)
Hi Martha! **waves madly**

Message edited by its author, Apr 23, 2009, 5:23pm.

And quit picking on Linda!~!

Sounds like another really sad book. I am reading books of comic strips myself these days to cheer up. They make me laugh. :D Hope you are feeling better these days. We love hearing from you. Take care.
--BJ

from Linda's post:

"#18. Hmm. I didn't know that Faulkner was your favorite author.."

Charlie, you kill me, you really kill me!~!~!

and again:

#32. You ought to wait until Monday to do your review: you'll be at the office then and have plenty of time to write. I mean, why waste your perfectly good free time?

No, I mean it. You really slay me. I am belly laughing out loud even as we speak and the old man is pissed cuz he is trying to watch/listen to the news so knock it off!~!

Message edited by its author, Apr 23, 2009, 8:17pm.

> 27 - Surely that's from Romeo and Juliet *googles it*... Yep, I thought so.

*waves* Hi Charlie and Charlie's angels! I've been keeping up with this thread for ages, but I never feel witty enough to post here. I watch the elite from afar.

Charlie's Angels---now THAT's witty. (I do bear a remarkable resemblance to Kate Jackson.)

#35. I agree, Kate. 'Tis nice to hear from you, Ms. Jackson.

#36. And welcome, CM. Yes, we indulge in some wit now and again, but we discuss some fairly heavy books too. Please jump in with a comment anytime—just watch out for Joyce and Kate Jackson.

>35 - phew, I feel like I've passed a rigorous initiation. Thanks :)

>36 - Thanks Charlie. Now that I've introduced myself I might be brave enough to comment every so often. You may call me Rena if you like. (The 'you' is general by the way.)

Hi, Rena! **waving wildly** Glad to see you here on Charlie's thread! :)
--BJ

Yeah, well, these days I feel like Caliban, myself.

Why, Joyce, do you feel you're conversing with imaginary friends here?

>37 Nice to know your real world name, Rena.

Actually, I was thinking more of the grumpy slave, myself. I'm too tired these days to be able to imagine anything, much less people with whom I'm having conversations!

#39. Who in blue blazes is Caliban?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caliban_(character)

Character in Shakespeare's "The Tempest". Also a character in Robert Browning's poem "Caliban Upon Sebethos":

http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poem/267....

#43. I knew it, I just knew it--either Shakespeare or Robert Browning, I told myself here at 6:30 a.m.

Unfortunately, and exposing my ignorance, I know squat about either Shakespeare or Browning.

Will you still talk to me, though, Eliza?

haha. Actually I'm not a fan either. I just know that because we had to study that godforsaken poem last semester. Browning is definitely NOT a poet I love and as for Shakespeare, I've read too little of him to have a definite opinion. Mostly I read little pieces of Shakespeare for the vocabulary - the man was incredible in that respect - with a dictionary in hand, obviously!

*still talking* :)

ETF: Browning is NOT a poem but a POET , duh.

Message edited by its author, Apr 24, 2009, 9:40am.

Here and I thought the "caliban" thing was somewhere Rudolph Valentino swept the ladies off to. (or was that the calaban?)
Did I just end that sentence with a preposition?

#46. Close, but no cigar. Twas the "Casbah". Or maybe it was the cash bar...

The rule about ending a sentence in a prep has been struck down—it is now acceptable to do so, and I've noticed it in recently published books. Personally, I never gave a damn anyway.

Well, you wouldn't Charlie. (give a damn, that is)

And oh, how silly of me.
caliban/casbah -- nothing at all alike>>I have only my depressed state of mind to blame and that will be improving what with the week end coming up and the old man off perhaps I will get swept off to the "Casbah".

Isn't Caliban also the name of King Arthur's sword in that Merlin book by Mary Stewart? I had to read it ages ago for Year 12 English, but I can't remember details. LT reminds me it's called The Crystal Cave.

There's probably some deep and meaningful reason behind the sword having that name, but I dunno what.

I haven't read Mary Stewart's wonderful books in ages, but I've never heard of Arthur's sword being called anything but Excalibur.

oh, ex-calibur... ex-caliban
po-tay-to po-tah-to

to-may-to, to-mah-to

regarding posts #49 & 50, The name of King Arthur's sword was indeed Excalibur. (Joycepa, you had it)

The lovely Mary Stewart's Arthurian legend books are a 4 pack: The Crystal Cave, The Hollow Hills, The Last Enchantment and The Wicked Day. I too have not read these in ages but me thinks I shall drag them out when my library "lends" (26, of which I have read 8) have been returned. I had forgotten how good they were. I think the last time I read them I was preggers with my 34 year old. eeeeeee-gads!~!
Speaking of Mary Stewart, not that she wrote it, but have any of you ever read A Child of the Sea by Elizabeth Goudge? It is about Prince Charles and the young girl Lucy Walter, he first fell in love with and supposed fathered 2 children by, but there was never any documentation to prove it. When I was young I read it over and over. That was the first time I ever hear the word celtie, (is that the right one) the seal who sings and becomes a young girl?

"Goudge depicts Lucy Walter as a warm, loving but wronged wife of Charles ll. We are led to belive throughout the novel that Charles truly adored his first "wife" and she was cast aside because of politics. The contents of the book have been denounced as historically inaccurate, however, that is insignifigant to the wonderful story-telling talents of Elizabeth Goudge. As an avid reader of historical facts and historical fiction, "The Child from the Sea" is the most well written account of a time long gone by. Truly, 'The Child From the Sea" is a novel that moves your heart while giving the reader a full account of life in 17th century London. You cannot afford to miss this one if you can find it!"

That from Amazon.com

Message edited by its author, Apr 27, 2009, 5:55pm.

I think the word you mean is "kelpie". As in this article . I loved Mary Stewart, too, long ago. And not just the Arthurian books, either. The Ivy Tree was one of my favorites.

Message edited by its author, Apr 27, 2009, 10:13pm.

Oh yeah laytonwoman3rd. "kelpie" That's the one. Damn, I keep getting these words screwed up!~! Must be suffering from "sometimers".
I also loved The Ivy Tree. Wasn't reading just the best part of childhood? It is still just about the best part of life. Good thing, cuz I spend at least half my time doing it. Ha

Have I perchance stumbled upon the wrong thread? It wouldn't at all be unlike me to do something stoopidly air-headed like . . . stumbling upon the wrong thread.

The fact is I've been on sick leave for a couple days and, to make a long story short (here, have a freshly-baked cliche), I'm still in the dumper. Or Dumpster. Or whatever.

There are a poopload of my starred threads to look at, so I'm going to get to a few of them now—probably not all of them, but eventually.

It makes me feel good that all of you gather here to chat, and remember this from Message 1:

"Your host for this thread, as always, is the lovely and gracious Charlie."

We've been creating the illusion that there's someone home so the burglars don't move in, Charlie. Also, we wouldn't want the insurance company to cancel your thread-owner's policy because the premises were unoccupied. Oh, and please feel better soon. We miss you.

Now we have to worry about Abandoned Thread Syndrome!

Hi, Charlie!
So glad to see you back. Hope that you are feeling right as rain soonest. And please stay away from that pig flu!
--BJ

Hey Charlie;
Yours is always the 1st one we check and ditto what "that one Linda said".
The squatters were literally hovering.
mental hugs.
HI MARTHA!~!

Good morning Charlie.
It's good to have you back and I hope your day is a good one. I am off to Olympia. Wish me luck.
Catcha later,
belva

Hi Charlie;
You would not believe the book I am reading right now. I am not sure I do. Well, duh, it is in fact fiction.
Big as Life by Maureen Howard. It's a book of short stories but there are only three so I guess technically they would be novellas.
Anyway I am on the third one and it is a "biography" of Jean Jacques Audubon, better known as John James or just Audubon. The main character is his wife Lucy (which I thought weird) so the story line is actually the telling of how the living of his life affected her's. According to this story he tracked the birds he painted for days, weeks, whatever and then killed them, stuffed them and painted them. And they were spit poor. It is interesting but I am definitely going to have to run right out to the library and get a "real" biography on Audubon. This has made me very curious.
What do you think?? Do you think he killed them before he painted them?

You people. Thread insurance, Abandoned Thread Syndrome (ATS), squatters (as opposed to pointers)—I cannot imagine what y'all will think of next. In the meantime, I have two—count 'em, two—books to blurb, both suggested by my ATS doctor, Joyce.

24. Dressed for Death, Donna Leon

This is the third book in the Commissario Guido Brunetti series and the third one I've read. Venice wasn't very appealing in this installment: it was the hottest and most humid part of summer, so I was sweating right along with the characters (an empathetic reaction).

Brunetti's family was smart enough to escape the city for the cooler mountains, so this book focuses more on Guido's crime-solving skills. It is a solid, satisfying tale involving a corrupt lawyer, a corrupt banker *wink wink*, and oh yeah: a flock of transvestites (or herd, or pride, or whatever they're called).

Leon sadly points out the ecological damage that is being done to Venice from the nearby industrial complex of Marghera. Pollution is rampant because of crooked politicians *wink wink*, payoffs, and a paucity (or complete lack) of laws. Imagine a country with a worse record than the EPA and Italy has a huge problem.

While the latter paragraph was disturbing, I give the book 4½ stars for Leon's writing and a satisfying read.

25. The Shape of Water, Andrea Camilleri

Translated from the Sicilian Italian, this is the first book in the Inspector Salvo Montalbano series. Camilleri writes more sparsely than Leon, so it took me a bit to adjust to the different rhythm (I was reading the books concurrently). His writing is direct, coarse, and has the ring of a man who knows Sicily and Sicilian ways intimately.

Montalbano is not unlike Brunetti, except the former is single; otherwise, their temperaments, procedural skills, and compassion are very similar. If graft is a usual part of business in Italy, it is doubly so in Sicily—and there's also the added aggravation of the Mafioso. But Montalbano, like Brunetti, is a pro at solving crime, and he does an admirable job in this rather complex procedural.

Some readers may have trouble with the Sicilian names if (1) they didn't go to Catholic school or (2) watch The Sopranos. I did both, so I had no problem reeling off names like Brucculeri, Cusumano, and Pecorilla. Actually, they're quite musical and fun to say out loud, unless your wife is trying to sleep.

Silliness aside, Camilleri is a fine writer and I give the book 4 stars for nice diversionary reading.

Those both look like pretty great reads. Thanks for the reviews!
--BJ

#63, #64: And let me assure you and everyone else that the food descriptions just get better! If I didn't know ahead of time that I wouldn't be able to get the ingredients here, I'd be tracking down a Sicilian cookbook I once had (I think it was The Art of Italian Cooking by Maria Lo Pinto) and stalking the Internet for anything that would gibe me the recipes for some of the dishes Camilleri talks about.

#62. Sorry, Belva, but I know zilch about Audubon. I have a Library of America volume of his writings (unread, obviously), but I doubt he wrote about murdering birds. Google or Wikipedia will probably give you some good insight into his life vs. his journals.

#65. You're right, Joyce, about the food. I like squid and there's a little place here that makes an excellent calamari salad, but I'm a little timid about octopus. Overall, even in Leon's books, the food always sounds so good, and some of it seems fairly simple to prepare.

Betcha can't wait until your eggplant is ready, can you.

Octopus is gooooood.

#68. Do you put ketchup on it?

(I can hear Joyce screaming in outrage already.)

D__m right, Joyce is screaming in outrage!! Ketchup! Only in Ireland.

And we've already had the first eggplant.

Here's a simple way to make octopus. Buy a baby one--NOT some hulking 4 pounder! The bag is usually cleaned out already in the US. Boil the octopus for about 10-15 minutes. When cool, cut up the octopus into small, bite-sized pieces. Season with salt, pepper, garlic, parsley, olive oil, and basalmic vinegar. Marinate for a few hours in the refrigerator. Truly delicious!

I can't eat octopus. I did try calamari once, but it was not my thing. But I surely do like shrimp!
--BJ

I myself am not fond of calamari, but I do love the octopus salad. Has the same name in both Spanish and Italian, pulpo. I can get fresh octopus here occasionally.

#69 I put ketchup on NOTHING. But to keep the world in balance, I am married to a man who enjoys it on eggs (including my matchless what-all-is-in-here-anyway omelets), french fries, mac 'n' cheese, scalloped potatoes, hot dogs, baked beans...*sigh* I have broken him of putting in on my meatloaf, which comes with a brown sugar and whole cranberry topping of its own. Oh, Charlie...were you trying to read? Sorry.

Message edited by its author, May 4, 2009, 7:36am.

So, where can I get that meatloaf recipe? Everyone here loves meatloaf. I have the only two children in the world who will not eat catsup/ketchup on anything. Not even fries. Amazing for American children. Hasta la vista!
--BJ

@73

LIES. You put ketchup on shrimp. Just because there's horse radish mixed in don't mean it's not ketchup.

#73: AHA! Caught out!

Ketchup is a worthy ingredient, in cocktail sauce, among other things. I never said otherwise. #75 I understand you have to defend the stuff on accounta the guy YOU'RE marrying. (And my cocktail sauce is more than just ketchup and horseradish.)

#74. I'll be happy to share the recipe, billiejean. I don't have it here with me at the moment, but I'll post it somewhere...maybe on my own thread. Poor Charlie. He's going to block us all any minute, now.

Charlie;
Once again you have been hijacked and not only that, they have turned your LT into a KT (kitchen thing).
Hmmmmmmmmmmm
belva

But at least all the appliances are working!
--BJ

26. The Wapshot Scandal, John Cheever

This is the sequel to The Wapshot Chronicle, which I reviewed as Message 157 on my first 2009 thread. Published seven years after Chronicle (1957 and 1964), it bears little resemblance to its predecessor, mirroring Cheever's tumultuous personal life of depression, alcoholism, and bi-sexual adultery.

This book too is a reread for me, but I had forgotten how dark it is. Humor is at a premium, as is the charming but faded fishing village of St. Botolphs, MA. Carryover characters are Honora, the aging Grande Dame of the Wapshots, and her two young cousins Coverly and Moses and their respective wives.

I won't waste your time recapping the story, but rather tell you that Cheever was a master writer of human unhappiness, boredom, loneliness, and the delusions we create to repress those feelings. At least three times he tells us that, in effect, we can't see the elephant in the living room of our life:

"(Coverly) had developed an adroitness at believing that what had happened had not happened, that what was happening was not happening, and that which might happen was impossible."

Despite Cheever's pessimism I love reading him, and I give this book all 5 stars.

Edited to correct a stupid spelling error.

Message edited by its author, May 7, 2009, 3:48pm.

Sounds like a good one.
--BJ

Cheevers sounds like an interesting individual and an astute one. And I know for a fact that we cannot see ( I have always called it the bear) elephant in our living room until we begin to look for it and even then it can take years.
You take care Charlie.
belva

Cheever's book sounds like a therapy session on personal honesty. At least you don't have to buy it by the hour.

I just noticed a new biography of Cheever. Do you think you'll read it?

#82. Or sometimes never, B., depending on the individual. Another term for it is "denial."

#83. You mean buying it by the fifty-minutes, Bill. You have the Cheever LoA volume--give the Chronicle the fifty-page test. (I must have fifty on the brain today.)

#84. The biography is getting rave reviews, but I'm going to pass it up. In Tui's words, it's an 800 page thumper. The fellow who wrote it, Blake Bailey, also edited the two Cheever Library of America volumes, and all three were released the same day.

Cheever's short stories are great, and they're available in a paperbound edition.

Since I won't be posting a review for a couple of days, I have a question instead for my fellow LTers. Hypothetical, I'm afraid, but an interesting one.

Why is it that most dedicated readers like us have, in addition to too many TBR books, a dog, a cat, an ant farm, or multiples and mixtures of the aforementioned critters?

My first reaction? We spend more time at home (because we're reading) to have pets to begin with, and it's also so much easier to hang out with non-talking friends while you're reading. Outside of family, it took me personally about twenty-five years to find a human friend who can be comfortable hanging out together and not starting a conversation every ten minutes when I'm reading--I'm marrying him by the way, of course. My family of readers has reptiles on top of the mammals too. Happy reading :)

I'm not sure how universal this is, but most readers are at least somewhat introverted. I am a misanthrope, so I go a bit farther than most. I think for many of us, animals are much better company than humans. They're usually a lot prettier, certainly! LOL

I love questions like this because they really make one think.
For myself, my animals provide freely to me unconditional love and acceptance. At least the dog does. She seems to know, even though she is only 6 months old, when I am in need of comforting and when my stress levels are running high and fulfills those needs as well. The cats usually allow me to cuddle and love on them when I need something squishy to hang onto and though the feline nation is very independent, when one has 7 of the creatures, one can usually find at least one that is willing to be squished and snuggled. So my animals, especially the dog, reads my emotional needs oftentimes before I am aware that I am in need. She is actually teaching me to read my moods and emotions. Pretty amazing stuff, huh?
Also, I do not feel the need to respond to or listen to my animals (other than to their physical needs) if I am in need of "alone and quiet time". They never interrupt my reading unless it is just to put a head under my hand for a petting or snuggle.
People (my loving family included) don't read me nearly as well as my animals do. They don't realize that when they interrupt me at my reading it is the same as interrupting a conversation. They fret over me and question me whereas my animals do not.
My Utopia would be an "English cottage complete with garden of course, 2 or 3 dogs, 7 cats, and a canary or 2. Though I love my family, I would live alone with my books, my music and my critters.
I think I love that the critters have no expectations of us and people have many.

I think that most people, readers or not, love the unconditional love of a pet. I think that about 90% of the houses in my neighborhood have a dog or two. There are cats, too, but they are harder to spot as they do not bark! :)
--BJ

Because:



(ETA: If that pic is too big, don't hesitate to tell me and I'll take it off... I tried limiting it to 200px, but it hasn't worked for some reason that is beyond me...)

Message edited by its author, May 15, 2009, 1:05am.

>89, My Utopia would be an "English cottage complete with garden of course, 2 or 3 dogs, 7 cats, and a canary or 2.

Make that one bulldog (they're enough trouble--and fun--for me), one cat who likes to cuddle with both of us; add someone to do the gardening when I don't want to, and a cook, then I'm in!

Beautiful cat! So what does that mean about limiting to 200 px?
--BJ

Hey ChocolateMuse,
How did you get my cat in your picture? I love that pic it is adorable. Unfortunately my cat doe not always sit still on my lap. I guess all of my years of picking him up and cuddling with him has made him not like to sit with me.

Now on to the question.

I can't say that I have animals because I love to read. I grew up with cats and just love them. They don't need as much attention as a dog, even though I love dogs too. I feel it is more of a calming factor for me more then anything. No matter how bad my day has been I come home and see the cats sitting on the porch, window or just there to greet me and it brings a smile to my face.

#89, Count me in too if you have a cook along with a gardener for when I don't want to do either one.

Monica

The muse has it exactly right. On my official "day off" (usually Monday), my dog will put up with my puttering around the house for just so long, and then she starts giving me that look that means "it's time to sit down and read now". (Yes, I'm SURE that's what that look means.) I get nicely situated in my chair with a bevvy of choice, and then she jumps up and gets nicely situated in my lap....and then, of course the phone rings, and since I forgot to bring the cordless over with me, we both leap up...oh, well, you get the idea. I don't think there's a picture of this, because it rarely happens when there's anyone else in the house.

Animals are very good company and they specialize in relaxing. My animals add to the atmosphere of relaxation when I am reading. Nothing like a cozy live hot water bottle snuggling you when you read.

As it turns out, this was a pretty good question because it evoked great responses. Lettuce see if I can summarize.

First, Rena, that's a wonderful photo and it fits the thread and screen perfectly. Thank you.

Next, I'm going to agree with Joyce that most readers are somewhat introverted. That, I think, can be a range from "slightly" to "wallflower." Friends and family are a necessary part of our lives, but we all crave alone and quiet time to read and reflect. Take Jennifer (#87) for example: it has taken her many years to find a guy who will shut up long enough to let her read, and she's dragging him to the altar before he gets away (I paraphrase loosely, Jennifer).

A comment of my own. Based on what I see all of you reading and your reviews, I believe we are sensitive and emotional people (don't start roaring, Joyce). Most of us have read The Book Thief, and how many of us have not wept over it, including me? Or worse, any animal story that turns out badly?

I'm no psychologist, but as sensitive and introverted people we "pick up" more easily on the incredible sensitivity of our pets. Belva (#89) puts it quite eloquently, except for the part where she squishes her cats. "For myself," she says, "my animals provide freely to me unconditional love and acceptance." Billiejean says the same thing.

Cuddling is a biggie, to the point where Linda's (#95) Sheltie decides when it's time to read (and to hell with the phone). Bonnie (#92) cuddles with her pussycat. I've been cuddling with my little terrier mix Molly for twelve years.

To finish up, a couple quotes I liked:

Belva: "I think I love that the critters have no expectations of us and people have many." (There you go, Miss Misanthrope.)

Monica (#94): "No matter how bad my day has been I come home and see the cats sitting on the porch, window or just there to greet me and it brings a smile to my face."

I don't think I've said anything profound, but it was fun anyway. Thanks for your comments.

Charlie

#96. Darnit, Bill, our posts crossed while I was composing my thesis. Your entire comment is a great quote.

"The Art of Relaxation," by Bill. Just plain Bill.

Very nicely put!
--BJ

Well said!~!
belva

(There you go, Miss Misanthrope.)

Ms. Misanthrope, Charlie, Ms.

He did that on purpose, you know.

just cuz he can. Kind of like the dog licking his *alls, ya know.

27. Sharpe's Fortress, Bernard Cornwell

This is the final book in the Richard Sharpe India trilogy, but I thought it was the weakest of the three battle-wise. Cornwell focuses most of the book on Sharpe and the British preparations for the siege of Gawilghur, an up-until-then impregnable mountaintop fortress.

Sharpe is a driven man, determined at all costs to get revenge on the men who have carried out various plots against him and one of whom killed a close friend of his. Sharpe, though, is a fictional character, so all of his retailiation has nothing to do with history.

Gawilghur, however, was a real place and a real battle; Cornwell, in his historical notes, marvels at how the British (actually the Scottish) were able to succeed. It's too bad that his awe didn't carry over to the story because the siege is given short-shrift in the final twenty per cent of the book.

Sharpe, in his maniacal desire for revenge, is a one-man fighting machine, a Superman, dodging musket balls, bayonets, cannon canisters, and some poor slob's kitchen sink. I've had enough of Sharpe's exploits and I'm going to pass on the other fifteen or so in the series. Cornwell is a much better historical writer than this book, so I'll return to the fourth book on the Danes.

28. Death of an Englishman, Magdalen Nabb

This is the third police procedural series that takes place in Italy, all of which were recommended by Joyce. I hesitate to say anything nice about Joyce for fear that I may upset her, but she is a very good PP picker.

Donna Leon writes the Commissario Brunetti series, a Venetian policeman who knows Venice and its environs like the back of his hand. Andrea Camilleri has Inspector Montalbano, a Sicilian whose turf is in Sicily. Nabb's sleuth is Marshal Guarnaccia, a Sicilian who is a member of the Carabinieri in Florence. The Carabinieri is not a police force per se, but rather a cross between the military and the state police; they do not interfere with local police forces, so I'm assuming they deal with international crime.

This is the first book in the Guarnaccia series (I am anal about reading them in order), but unfortunately the Marshal plays a small part due to a bad case of influenza. Nevertheless he solves the crime, giving me a potential taste of his investigative prowess.

It's still too early to tell who's the best writer of the three, except I was not overly impressed with Camilleri. I like Nabb for her brevity (a complicated case in a mere 172 pages), her ability to devise quirky characters and situations, and Guarnaccia's curmudgeonly outlook: the Florentines are generally idiots because they are not, and do not think like, a Sicilian.

I have great hopes for this series, two more of which will be delivered to my doorstep this week, and I have Leon's fourth and fifth waiting for me. I, like Joyce, recommend both series for light and interesting reading, as well as for their intelligent writing.

@104

Awww, dun give up on SuperSharpe yet. You have to wait at least until Invinci-Irish (Patrick Harper) shows up. Sharpe and Harper are a brilliant duo.

In seriousness (and the nicknames my former roommate and I gave our two favorite fictional 19th-century British soldiers aside), I do enjoy the Napoleonic Sharpe adventures more than the India adventures.

Tthe Carabinieri are not the international crime police corps--they're a military organization that does deal with certain types of crime in their neighborhoods. I think they have separate jurisdictions; in Venice itself, Brunetti is police, while in nearby Mestre, on the mainland, the Carabinieri have jurisdiction. don't know how its apportioned but there it is.

Cornwell wrote the India prequels after he had well started his Napoleonic series. I happened to like the India prequels very much, but several of the Napoleonic ones are better in that Sharpe has more latitude for action and yes, meets his Irish side kick.

Guranaccia does not come into his own until book #4. I really think that Nabb idd not have settled in her mind who would be the main protagonist--the Captain's role is bigger in the first few books--but by Book 4, she had definitely chosen Guarnaccia and the rest, as they say, is Italian police procedural history.

Leon writes like an American, Nabb wrote like an Englishwoman, and Camilleri writes like an Italian, specifically Sicilian. What can I say? :-) For me, Nabb is the best writer of the three, because she never ever wrote a bad book, and the other two have, although Camilleri's one and a half lapses are nowhere near so bad as Leon's atrocity and finally lack of interest. But Nabb just got better and better and better, until, sadly, she died of her second stroke 2 years ago, I think. Her first book, Death of an Englishman, is her "worst". Imagine what joys you have ahead of you! :-)

As for her brevity--she was often compared to Georges Simenon, who was a big fan of hers.

Glad you all liked the pic, I love the big smile on the cat's face :) It's not my cat, but it's exactly what he does whenever I sit down for long enough.

BJ, by limiting to 200px, I meant I used the code below. It means that the height of the picture should be no bigger than 200 pixels, and the width is supposed to fit in with the height specifications. I generally use this code (minus spaces) to post pictures, where IMAGE LOCATION is the URL or web link of the picture:



End of interlude, back to books, sorry Charlie...

ETA: changed "forbidden" to read "style", which is the correct code, sorry!
ETA2: ...which changed itself right back to "forbidden". If anyone knows why it does this, I'd love to know - message me on my profile if you feel poor Charlie's thread should not be Introduction to HTML 101.

Message edited by its author, May 18, 2009, 3:00am.

Thanks, Chocolate Muse!
--BJ

#107. Thanks, Joyce, for your input. Yes, the Italian police forces and the non-military role of the Carabinieri is confusing. I remember Brunetti working with the Carabinieri in Mestre because the US Air Force Base was involved.

Overall, I enjoyed the Sharpe India trilogy--I thought, though, that Sharpe was over the top in the third one. Since both you and Laura say the Napoleonic ones are better, and since Wellsley plays such a big part, I'll give SuperSharpe another try.

And the second and third Nabb should be here today!

You know, Charlie, it is a lot of fun for me watching you get excited about Nabb's books. I'm already enjoying, in anticipation, your relish as you start #2--I think that's Death of a Dutchman, as I recall. a GREAT story.

You'll see that all I know about the Carabinieri comes from Nabb's books. In many of them, dear Salvo sits patiently at his desk listening to tourists report stolen cameras, neighbors report various small crimes. There's a brilliant book in the series about a kidnapping that takes you into the hills around Florence, and you meet more of the Carabinieri, the small-town marshals who have to live in their community and yet somehow police it.

Guranaccia feels very protective of 'his' people. You don't meet Teresa, his wife, or his two small boys until later, but they are gems of characterization as well.

One of her books--and it may be The Marshal's Own Case but I don't remember--investigates the death of a Florentine transvestite. What Nabb does with that situation and what Leon does with it in one of her earlier books--I have it under the title of Dressed for Death, but there's another title as well--yes, the Anonymous Venetian is very illuminating. Nabb takes you into that world as it exists in Florence. Leon skims the surface.

Dear Salvo and his hat! :-)

#73 Cranberry meatloaf recipe over on my thread.

Message edited by its author, May 18, 2009, 9:35pm.

Already found the recipe over there and it looks great. I am going to teach my recent graduate a few cooking skills this summer before she heads off to college. (Few is the most that I can manage!)

Y'all have a great day!
--BJ

Hey Charlie;
I just wanted to pop over here and say "howdy" and let you know that we are all still here and thinking of you. Take care:)
belva

29. Death of a Dutchman, Magdalen Nabb

Instead of drinking Lite, I've been reading lite in between napping litely. The second book in Nabb's Marshal Guarnaccia series is just what the Doctor ordered. (That's a filthy lie: my Doctor has no idea what I read, but it sounded good when I wrote it.)

Unlike Nabb's first book, Death of an Englishman (Msg 105), Guarnaccia is the star here. A member of the Carabinieri, his rank of Marshal appears to be that of a Sergeant—he does the paper shuffling for crimes committed, but it's the officers who investigate and solve them. Don't believe it.

Guarnaccia, using guile and Sicilian common sense, conducts his own investigation of a complex murder. Along the way, Nabb introduces some wonderful characters: the Marshal's assistant Gino, a gem cutter, a blind man, and a difficult 90-year-old woman.

Nabb also has the ability to shock: there is a very unexpected scene toward the end of the book that is quite sad.

If you are a lover of police procedurals and mysteries, don't pass up Magdalen Nabb. She's much better than passing the Lite.

Ahhhhhh, so that is where you get your Sicilian expertise Charlie!~! I wondered. This sounds to be an interesting read. May have to try it.
Take care me hearty!~!
belva

The series just gets better and better and better, Charlie.

thanks for the tip on Nabb - I shall do some investigating! (laughing inwardly at what a bad joke I could make outta that)

...(and congratulating myself for resisting the impulse)

The world can always use another bad joke, Eliza.

I don't think I have ever read a police procedural before, so I want to give it a try.
--BJ

30. The Complete Stories of Truman Capote

“Yesterday afternoon the six o’clock bus ran over Miss Bobbit.”

So begins the story “Children on Their Birthdays,” and I dare any reader to put it down after an opening sentence like that.

Without reservation, this is one of the finest collections of short stories I have read. The designation “Master of the Short Story” seems overused, but Capote indeed qualifies for a piece of the title. Regrettably, he published only twenty of them during his long career, mostly for magazines between the years 1943 and 1951.

When Truman was a boy of seven, both of his parents deserted him to further their own “careers.” They dumped him on a houseful of elderly cousins in rural Alabama, one of whom, sixty-something Miss Sook Faulk, became his closest (and only) friend. Three moving stories evolved from this loving relationship: “A Christmas Memory,” “The Thanksgiving Visitor” and “One Christmas.”

Capote definitely has a Southern voice, especially in his early stories, but he also has a voice for the denizens of New York. The one thing that stays constant is the writing itself: crystal clear prose that conveys emotion with an economy of words and a rhythm that effortlessly carries the reader to story’s end. The endings, too, are unambiguous—poignant, wry, sometimes mildly shocking or amusing—thus leaving the reader with a satisfying understanding of the story:

“Good luck, Miss _____. Thanks for the peanuts.”

If you are a lover of short stories, do not pass over this collection.

I am so glad that you liked this one Charlie. When I read it I was like: "Wow, there is someone in my life exactly like that but their name is__________" or "So and So's aunt is this person!" In each one of his stories, I saw people I knew or had heard about.
I loved this read. He had a wonderful knack to enthrall people and I think everyone would find something to appreciate in this work.

10 thumbs up, Charlie. (Well, sometimes I FEEL as though I had 10 thumbs.) Capote wrote some of the most poetic prose I've ever read (every November I find myself looking out a window at one of those "leafless birdless coming of winter mornings"), and I marvel that he could capture simplicity and innocence so well. Sadly, I think his wider reputation is as a caricature of the flamboyant society pet with a tendency to bite that hand that feeds it.

#123. This was one you recommended, Belva, and I truly thank you for it.

I see on your thread that you're going through the "do the review" blahs. Reviewer's Cramp, or something like that. It too will pass, but just don't pass up some really good books (because I'm a selfish pig).

#124. I know you have this book in your library, but I didn't know what you thought of it. I think that he got his simplicity and innocence from Sook, whom he loved deeply. Sadly, most people only know him as the person you describe in your last sentence.

On another note, I hope the wedding plans are going well, and that you don't have me assigned to the lilac bedroom with eleven other strangers.

Oh my Gawd-------------I see a Wooster moment/event coming here!~!

#126. That's what I'm worried about. I don't want eleven strangers to see the holes in my socks.

*fumbles with room assignment chart* No, no Charlie. I see you are to share the Wistaria suite with two Pomeranians and a greyhound. Can you cope?

#128. The Wisteria Suite! With two Poms and a greyhound! I'm beside myself with hysteria over the Wisteria!

(Joyce owes me an "A" for lousy jokes.)

Uh, the Wisteria Suite isn't a fancy name for the kennels, is it?

31. Field of Blood, Denise Mina

When it comes to crime novelists, Denise Mina of Glasgow is near the top of my list (along with John Connolly of Dublin). I read and reviewed her first trilogy last year, the first of which, Garnethill, won a CW Dagger Award for 1998.

Field of Blood is the first book in her newest series and, like Garnethill, features a very different protagonist: Paddy Meehan, an eighteen-year-old female who lives with her poor Catholic family in Glasgow. She is fat and ugly by her own admission, dresses poorly, and works as a lowly "copyboy" for the Scottish Daily News. Nevertheless, Paddy has a dream: she is determined to become a journalist.

I won't recap the story, other than to say it involves the torture and murder of a wee lad (three-years-old) by allegedly two ten-year-old boys in 1981. Paddy does a bit of sleuthing on the side, but her amateurishness inadvertently causes the death of an adult.

Heady stuff, but that's Mina's forte. She has little respect for the police, who care more about making an arrest than finding the real perp—thus making this an anti-police procedural. Mina has a firm grasp on the darkside of Glasgow, its citizens, and the drunken, arrogant employees of the newspaper. She is profane and extremely humorous, but sometimes its difficult to tell because she writes in Scotts dialect and slang.

Best of all, however, is the depth to which we get to know Paddy. Having read the second book in the series first (stupidity, not choice), this unlikely heroine is one of my all time favorites.

I really didn't like the Truman Capote I saw on TV--he was such a snide little creature--but I did love his A Christmas Memory story. And now your review makes me want to read this collection.

#131. The Capote you saw on TV was heavily into drugs and in self-destruct mode. He was not the man who wrote the stories in the 40s and 50s.

Similarly, look at how many great American writers were drunks and/or committed suicide. We read them because of what they wrote and not who they were.

You're so right! Creativity and depression go together all too often when it comes to writers, huh? I just can't stand sarcasm and meanness in people though. There are so many good writers, it's not that hard to hold a grudge, but since he's dead--and I'm not--maybe it's time to give it up, huh? :-)

#133. I figure you have three choices, Bonnie:

1. Read his stories while you're alive.
2. Read his stories while you're dead.
3. Don't read his stories either dead or alive.

I suggest door number 1: His stories are excellent.

32. The Cellist of Sarajevo, Steven Galloway

Forget the politics of the three-year Siege of Sarajevo; rather, this is a story of the people trapped inside the city—and of four of them in particular.

This small, sparely written book revolves around a renowned but unnamed cellist who witnesses a mortar attack on a busy marketplace: twenty-two innocent people, standing in line to buy bread, are suddenly no longer people, but rather bits and pieces of gory body parts. The cellist makes a vow to himself: for the next twenty-two days at the exact time of the attack, he will sit in front of the market and play a piece in memory of each of the slaughtered.

The cellist has no dialogue, so Galloway introduces three characters. Arrow is a young woman who is a master sniper defending the city; Kenan is in his thirties and has a family to support; and Dragan, in his sixties and a baker, lives with his sister because his wife and son were able to escape Sarajevo before the siege. Three very different people who all witness, like the cellist, the atrocities of war.

Galloway uses a device that is quite effective: like war itself, time is out of sync. The cellist’s story takes place over twenty-two days, Arrow’s a few days longer, but both Kenan’s and Dragan’s last little more than a day each. With short chapters jumping between the three in no particular order, the effect is disconcerting for the reader.

Galloway tries his best to describe scenes of horror, but no written words can ever possibly come close to the experience of being there. We can feel compassion and sadness for these people, but only those who have been to war can truly relate and empathize.

Dr. Viktor Frankel, a Jewish psychiatrist in Auschwitz, said in his book Man’s Search for Meaning, that even concentration camp prisoners had choices: they could choose to live or they could choose to lie down and die—many of whom chose the latter. This is where Galloway excels: the soul-searching that goes on within each of the characters. They remember how beautiful and peaceful Sarajevo once was, they wonder if it can ever be put back together again, they ask themselves if life is worth living or if they would be better off dead, they question if this nightmare will ever end or if they will go mad first, they contemplate suicide, they lose hope daily . . .

. . . And I think that is what the cellist’s role really is: not only to memorialize the slain, but to engender hope in the survivors.

You make me glad I picked up The Cellist of Sarajevo today during a daughter-induced trip to Borders.

". . . And I think that is what the cellist’s role really is: not only to memorialize the slain, but to engender hope in the survivors."

Beautifully written review Charlie.
Thank you,
belva

I also loved the review and added it to my ever-increasing wishlist. I wonder if my daughter has this book?
--BJ

32 down and only 18 to go? Wow, nice going! :) Wanna read a few more books for me so I can reach my 75? ;) Nothing intellectual please; I have my reputation to protect.

135: what with you praising it and Stasia saying it's gonna be on her memorable reads for the year list, this is definitely one to keep an eye out for!

Great review of The Cellist of Sarajevo. It's remained one of my favorites this year.

I think I'll be looking for The Cellist of Sarajevo on my next library trip--it looks like a beautiful tale!

The way I look at it, it's better to be late than even later with my comments.

#136. Linda, I'm sure that Laura had to twist your arm out of it's socket to go to Borders.

#137. You know, Belva, we seem to have a mutual admiration for each other's reviews. You put a lot of you in yours, and it always shows.

#138. BJ, I think your TBR list must be several miles long. As a matter of fact, I think I see the tail end of it stuck to the orange tree. Or maybe that's my kite.

#139. No offense, Sara, but some of your books give me the shivers. How about The Little Engine That Could?

#140. It's definitely on my memorable reads too, Eliza.

#141. Thanks for the compliment, Bonnie. It's one of those books I find hard to get out of my mind; I definitely need to reread it.

#142. Welcome, Jenny. I don't think you'll be disappointed, even though it's a very sad book.

That is very enlightening Charlie. I wasn't aware that I do that. Hmmm.
I shall have to ponder that.
And we all look forward to your comments and reviews whenever they hit the old thread.
You take care and my best to Martha and the pups.
belva

33. Requiem for a Nun, William Faulkner

This time, Faulkner has written a novel that is part prose and part a play. The prose, introducing each of the book's three sections, is Faulkner at his best: he recounts the history of the town of Jefferson, MS, from its founding through modern times (about 1954). The history revolves around the town jail: a log cabin that, in the beginning, involves a fifteen-pound lock that is simply hilarious and, by the end, houses a sad character from the play.

Unless you've read Sanctuary, this sequel-of-sorts won't make a lot of sense. Temple Drake and Gowan Stevens are carried over as actors in the play, which I think is one of Faulkner's weaker efforts. It involves a horrendous crime and a lot of talk about the nature of evil (probably Faulkner's favorite subject), but that's all it is—talk without ever getting into the actors' heads. Gavin Stephens (supposed uncle to Gowan), is a lawyer and appears in several of Faulkner's novels, but here he is downright annoying: he insists on interrupting whomever is speaking, and is told several times to "shut up."

I have mixed feelings, then, about this book. I was fascinated by the history of Jefferson, but other than some shocking revelations of personal depravity, the play was a flop.

34. Death in Springtime, Magdalen Nabb

From Faulkner straight to a Marshal Guarnaccia crime investigation in Florence, Italy. This is the third in the series and, like the first one, Guarnaccia plays a very small role. According to Joycepa, Guarnaccia doesn't really come into his own until the fourth or fifth installment.

Nevertheless, this tale is as well written and tightly-packed as her first two with a more complex plot of a kidnapping and a slew of characters. Nabb is great at honing an odd or eccentric character, and in this case it's Substitute Prosecutor Virgilio Fusarri.

I have read three each of Nabb and Leon, and I cannot decide which one I like better. Nabb is the better writer, but I like Leon's Brunetti and Venice. What the hell; I guess I'll just keep reading both of them.

#144. Thanks Belva, and you do relate certain books to your own life experiences. I've read you do it several times.

#145 As usual, Charlie, your explorations through Yoknapatawpha County make me itch to re-read whatever you're reading. (Why "supposed" uncle? )

#148. That, Eagle Eye, is an error on my part. I'll leave it in so that (1) your question makes sense and (2) people will know that I'm fallible.

># 147;
Well, I guess I will have to pay more attention to what I am writing and cull out the "experiences". I am sure that I do exactly that or you wouldn't have mentioned it. Thanks for the enlightenment.
catcha later Charlie,
belva

#143: None taken. Simple Principles to Eat Smart and Lose Weight by Alex A. Lluch still gives me nightmares. ;) And yes, I love The Little Engine That Could! Or Walter the Farting Dog. Either one would be great. :)

Just doing a fly-by and LOL!~~!
I would love to read the latter.
belva

I will have to pay more attention to what I am writing and cull out the "experiences I can't speak for Charlie, Belva, but why would you leave out the connections you make to a book and how it relates to your life? To me, that's the reason for reading and why I like to hear people's comments and their experiences.

Just popping by to say Hi. My daughter does not have The Cellist of Sarajevo. Maybe I can get it before the big book budget goes into effect.
--BJ

Charlie,
I just knew you would not be able to resist "Walter". I hope you can find him somewhere. He will probably make you belly laugh! LOL
belva

#150, 153 Ditto what Bonnie said. I'm sure Charlie didn't mean that observation as a criticism. (As I'm sure he'll be thrilled to have me speaking on his behalf, ahem!)

Yup Linda, that man always loves it when you put words in his mouth. I'm certain he will be sure to thank you for it as well.
I didn't take it personally. I didn't even take it critically. I took it as an observation that I had not been previously aware of. I know that Charlie would never intentionally hurt nor attempt to belittle anyone. That is just not part nor parcel of his makeup. In fact he is just the opposite. He strives to build people up. So, I think I took it as he meant it. I hope I did.
But hey gals; thanks for having my back anyway!~! hee hee
belva

Hi Charlie,
*** she said, waving wildly***

35. The Lovers, John Connolly

John Connolly (not to be confused with Michael Connelly) is a very funny Irishman who, among things, writes a series of very dark thrillers featuring Maine P.I. Charlie Parker. The Lovers is the eighth in the series and Connolly's darkest one yet.

(No spoilers.) In the first installment, Every Dead Thing, we learn that Parker's wife and tiny daughter were murdered and horribly mutilated by someone who could hardly be called human. Parker resigns from the NYPD, both to grieve and to find the murderer.

The darkness? As the series progresses the antagonists, as well as the stories, become increasingly more gruesome. There is something cold and other-worldly about these people, not of the Hannibal Lector kind, but supernaturally. They all seem to be connected somehow, by something . . .

In The Lovers, Connolly pulls out all the stops. Best described as a prequel to the series, Parker investigates his own life as well as the deaths of his family. To say any more would be spoilage, so you'll have to be satisfied with a one-sentence review of this book.

I've met Connolly three times and he is very accessible to his fans. The critics dislike him, he says, because they feel the element of the supernatural has no place in the crime genre. "Those same critics don't have a problem with cats solving crimes," he adds, laughing and shaking his head.

The fact that Connolly is different is the reason why I like him so much; he is right up there on my list of favorite P.I.-thriller-crime-mystery list, and so I give him 5 stars for this latest book.

Those same critics don't have a problem with cats solving crimes.

That just cracked me up. LOL.
--BJ

BJ: He was talking about Lilian Jackson Braun, who has written 30 mysteries solved by her cat. Her first few garnered 5 stars each, but the last few are getting 2s.

I just noticed my last sentence where I used "list" twice. Sounds like I work for the Office to Eliminate Redundancy Office.

Is that a government post?
--BJ

#160 TWO cats, actually. And let's not forget Rita Mae Brown, whose cat, Sneaky Pie actually WRITES her mysteries.

#161. It's a pretend government office, BeeJay, or maybe it's real . . .

#162. You're absolutely correct, Linda. I forgot about RMB, who's written 13 or 14—or I should say, Sneaky Pie Brown's written.

>#s 162 and 163 (#162):

I did not know that her cat "wrote" her mysteries. That is too cool!~!

Wow I enjoyed reading all those posts. I didn't read the reviews all the way through because I have noticed that when I do that I start making over thinking my reviews if I plan to read the book. I skim through the reviews the first time.

I did not know that about Rita Mae Brown, I may have to take a look at one of her books sometime.

Happy Reading All!!

Monica

36. You Know You're a Writer When, Adair Lara

If you are a die-hard reader, chances are that you love books about books. Anne Fadiman's Ex Libris, for example, is a joyful celebration of long words, book collecting, and book ownership, while Carlos Ruiz Zafon's Shadow of the Wind is a thriller involving a peculiar rare book, its eccentric author, and The Cemetery of Forgotten Books.

Since no one reading this review is likely to be either Anne Fadiman or Carlos Ruiz Zafon, exactly none of us wrote those books. Are we all doomed, then, to be merely readers until the day we ascend to The Great Library in the Sky and someone hands us a pencil?

This is where Adair Lara's tiny book (4¼" by 6¼", 95 pages) comes into play. No, it's not another tired book on how to write or how to sell what you've written—hell, it doesn’t even mention the word “talent” because all us readers know that talent is not required to be published (c.f., Stephenie Meyer). Rather, it is a book of aphorisms to ascertain if one is a die-hard writer and not just a passive reader.

I know that I'm a writer from this one example:

You relish reading a junky novel because every paragraph reminds you of how much better a writer you are than the author. At the same time, you are sick to your stomach: this hack at least got published.

Every three weeks or so, Nora Roberts/J.D. Robb, the woman who never met an adverb or an adjective she didn't like, publishes a new piece of trash for twenty billion dollars. At the same time, I can't get anyone to take fifty years-worth of my perfectly composed grocery shopping lists, glue them together, and publish them in rolls for toilet paper.

Here is another one I like:

The doctor tells you that you have terminal cancer and you think, "I can use this."

I wonder how many readers qualify for this one:

Your work clothes are a ratty bathrobe and duck slippers, and your commute is ten seconds—thirty if you stop at the bathroom.

This book is a little pricey at $9.95 (hardcover) and you could read it in thirty minutes at the library or Barnes & Noble, but I'm keeping mine because it's a writing book about writing books. And it's great. Five stars.

I can't get anyone to take fifty years-worth of my perfectly composed grocery shopping lists, glue them together, and publish them in rolls for toilet paper.

Ha ha! Which reminds me, someone actually did publish a book kind of like that--Milk Eggs Vodka: Grocery Lists Lost and Found by Bill Keaggy. Well, minus making it into t.p.; but I suppose if you were in a bind. . . . ;) Anywho, it's not one I'd really recommend, but if you see it at a bookstore/library, flip through it for giggles. Or be a lazy, cheap bastard like me and read some of it on the net: http://www.grocerylists.org.

Btw, loved your review. I thumbed* it on the book's main page. And yeah, I wouldn't buy it at full price either. I think I maybe paid 50 cents or something for my copy.

(*Is there a better word for that?)

#167. Well, minus making it into t.p.; but I suppose if you were in a bind. . . . ;

Seems to me that when you're in a bind you don't need t.p.

In all seriosity, you should go into the rare weird books biz. The Cemetary of Weird Books might work.

I think thumbed is okay, and thanks.

I love the review Mr. BF. I always thought that you knew you were a writer when you had a rejection letter.
I already have the ratty bathrobe but I want a pair of Opus or Bill the Cat slippers plus a pad and pen to carry around writing down aphorisms.

#168: Ah, good point. And good name for a bookstore! But I could never part with my books. I'd just leave a permanent Closed sign in the window. And seal up the door. And turn off the lights, and read in the dark. Nooo, that's not creepy at all. ;)

#169: Nice image, bill. I need to get me a ratty bathrobe, too. Ratty pj's just don't seem to cut it.

Btw, Bill's right, Brain. You have to frame your rejection letters. Or use them as wallpaper if you have enough. Be proud of your rejection! :)

Hey, I tried to order your book Charlie. In point of fact, I did order your book, but they emailed me a couple of days later and said you had withdrawn it and gave me my $ back.
And it even had a good cover!~!
And with the writing thing, rejection is difficult if the only place you ever do it is in your journal, on grocery lists, and on TBR listing notebooks, which with as much as you-all make me write there, I don't know. That might take some rejection.
belva

Message edited by its author, Jun 27, 2009, 11:53am.

I'm new to LibraryThing and I must confess that since I discovered it (accidentally) I've spent more time reading reviews of and discussions about books than the books in my tbr pile! But it's been fun and this comment of yours struck home. I love Fadiman's Ex Libris and Zafon's Shadow of the Wind. They appeal to the booklover in me. I bought Setterfield's The Thirteenth Tale in part because I liked the cover art of a pile of beautiful old books and the marbleized endpapers. The book was good, but I confess my expectations for it were higher based on the fact that I had prejudged it by its cover. It did, however, suggest a classic for my tbr pile that I haven't yet read: Wilkie Collins's Woman in White. A friend (who reads more and faster than I do) got around to reading the Collins book already but didn't like it. Said it was too old-fashioned. I confess that her lack-luster report moved the book lower on my tbr list, but I still hope to get to it as I'm not opposed to old-fashioned books! I'll also look for Lara's book You Know You're a Writer When. Given that you mention it along with the Fadiman and Ruiz books, I'm confident I'll like it!

#169. Howdy, Wild Bill. That's how we talk out west here. We also wear twenty-gallon hats because of inflation.

So, would you wear your Opus/Bill slippers to your lawerly office? I mean, you never know when an aphorism is going to strike.

And speaking of your aphorism, "I always thought that you knew you were a writer when you had a rejection letter,", which is also a truism, peeple are thinking that it applies to me. It does not.

#170. Sara, I would never suggest that you sell your collection of weird books. That would be sacreligious, heretical, and anathema all rolled into one. Rather, you would be an expert at finding those types of books for the surf-lazy.

And doesn't anybody own any nightwear that isn't ratty? Do bathrobes and PJs come that way?

I have no rejection letters to frame, thank you.

#171. Belva, that was my first writing attempt and most of it was stinky—that's why I pulled it, but the idiots left it on their site. I will be dealing with that.

The nice thing about not being rejected is by not sending your scribblings in in the first place.

ET to change message #. I got confused, like that's big news.

Message edited by its author, Jun 27, 2009, 2:57pm.

#172. Welcome to LT, OwlCat, and to my thread. There are a ton of nice people on LT, and reading their reviews and recommendations starts to get addictive. I've scaled way back because I too was not getting much reading done.

Your avatar of the owlcat on your profile page is neat as hell. Oops. I cussed in front of a teacher. Sorry.

As far as Wilkie Collins goes, Rena in Austrailia just reviewed his The Moonstone and loved it. If "old-fashioned' is applied to the Victorian era, then all of us would be missing out on the world's greatest literature.

Her review is here:

Go to Message #76

#174: Strange thing, I get kind of attached to any book within my proximity, which makes working in a library a little nerve-wracking when it comes to weeding. Can you believe we just rip the covers off paperbacks and throw them away? No recycling, no donating. (sigh) What is this world coming to? So I doubt I'd be able to hand over a book to a customer without a little tug-of-war.

Do bathrobes and PJs come that way?

I think so. The manufacturers leave one loose thread on all their items, so when you get home, your pj's and bathrobes just fall apart. Same goes for underwear and socks. It's a conspiracy, I'm sure.

(hands Charlie her rejection letters) Here, you can have mine. I don't want them anymore. :P

#172> Hi, OwlCat! I have just started The Woman in White and I am enjoying it alot. There is a group read of it on the Group Reads -- Literature Group if you are interested. Here is the site (I think):

http://www.librarything.com/groups/group...

You can check it out if you are interested in moving it back up your tbr. Have a great day and welcome to LT!
--BJ (Sorry Charlie!)

#172> Welcome, OwlCat. I keep telling BrainFlakes that this is the modern version of the Algonquin Round Table and he is Robert Benchley. A lot of fun and it's free and legal.
#173> BrainFlakes, I have a rejection letter someplace, I sent a short story out and Playboy sent it back with a letter. Everybody else just trashed it. Just make sure to send a big SASE so they can send your submission back.

Hey Bill;
It was prolly the picture you submitted with the story that caused the rejection!~! LOL hahahahahahaha
belva

Sorry Charlie, I couldn't help myself.

Message edited by its author, Jun 28, 2009, 4:16pm.

Wow so many comments. Thanks for the laughs guys. I too have falled behind on my reading since I spend more time reading the threads and reviews then actual books.

I liked your review of You Know You're a Writer When, even though I don't consider myself a writer at all. I may just look for the book and stay at the store and read it one afternoon.

Welcome to LT OwlCat!!

Have a happy reading day all!!

Monica

37. The Light Fantastic, Terry Pratchett

Zany: entertainingly strange, amusingly unconventional or unusual.

You know, I haven’t used that word in eons (or the word eons either, now that I think about it). It’s a wonderful word for Scrabble, but I don’t even use it there because of the eons thing.

Zany is the best possible one-word description, however, of Sir Terry and his second installment of the Discworld series (there are thirty-three altogether). Back for an encore is Rincewind the wizard, Twoflower the tourist, and the Luggage. Their mission: to save Discworld from a catastrophic collision with an eerie red star.

Yeah, sure. Rincewind, a wizard so inept that he can’t do magic, is going to save the world. Forget Twoflower too: as the voice of reason, all he does is piss off Rincewind. It’s a good thing, then, that they will have some help. Introducing what I think is one of the best character-names in fiction, Cohen the Barbarian.

Cohen is the best warrior of all time, but like every human, he has his problems too. He’s eighty-seven, and every time he’s in a fracas, his back locks up. He stands, stiff as a board, until his seventeen-year-old bride-to-be Bethan rubs his back with liniment (it’s only his back that gives him trouble).

Part of Pratchett’s genius is his ability to cram so many scenes into a mere 240 pages. If I were to try to describe a tenth of what goes on in The Light Fantastic, I would sound crazy instead of zany. But Pratchett pulls it all off with aplomb—humor, action, profundities—and a touching scene at the end of the book.

So it’s on to the next installment for me, Equal Rites, with only thirty to go after that. Sigh.

I found myself laughing out loud as I read your review. You have such a way with words Charlie.

I too chuckled reading your review. Now you have me thinking about checking the books out in the Discworld series. (going to grab notebook to add to my list of books to possibly purchase.)

Good morning Charlie.

With an incompetent wizard and Conan at 87 it sounds like a book meant for laughs. You have piqued my interest Charlie. This is definitely going on my wish list. Sorry I missed the Cohen not Conan that makes it a little funnier

Message edited by its author, Jul 1, 2009, 4:36pm.

Curse you, Flakey Brain. If you get me hooked on this series....I'll....why I'll.....I'll just...read 'em, I suppose.

Good afternoon, Belva, and to the rest of you intrepid LTers.

For those unfamiliar with Pratchett, his books are indeed written for laughs—often hilarious laughs. He parodies SF and Fantasy, but with intelligence.

The first book in the series is The Color of Magic.

And Linda, why are you being so nice to me?

Because I'm a peach, Charlie...remember? I actually went to a second hand book store at lunch time (with my paycheck in hand), and looked for Pratchett, but they didn't have any of his books. I stopped short of asking them to order. I believe my future son-in-law is a fan of his work, so I can probably mooch a title or two.

Message edited by its author, Jul 1, 2009, 5:10pm.

Pratchett just gets better from here. The first few are particularly zany, and then Pratchett settles into the rules and ways of his Discworld, and the characters develop and the jokes get more nuanced and cross-referenced, and there are in-jokes and out-jokes, and he starts not only parodying SF and fantasy, but our own world too.

(Wow, that was a long sentence. Instant rejection letter for that... unless I was Di Morrissey...)

Thanks for your input, Rena. I take it you're a fan of Sir Terry like the Limeys.

I wish I could find my copy of The Light Fantastic! Your review makes it sound as wonderful as Pratchett's other novels.
Also, I highly recommend the Death cycle of Discworld. He's a great character, and I feel that some of Pratchett's best puns shine through in Death's realm and in the Reaper's interactions with the Disc's inhabitants.

#192. Thanks for the tip, Star. I already get a kick out of Death . . .

Now Charlie, play nice.

I went to my used book store next door and they had a copy of The Truth. It is number 25 in the Discworld series and is about the first newspaper in Ankh-Morpork. I realize it's best to read a series in order but at used book stores you take what you can get. I just started the book and zany is a good word to describe it, daffy comes to mind also. Looks like you have led me into another corner of the book world Charlie. Another aphorism " Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."

Message edited by its author, Jul 5, 2009, 10:24am.

#194. I always play nice, Belva, except I'm not allowed to have scissors.

#195. Thanks, Bill, I am flattered by your aphorism.

Daffy. You know, Daffy Duck slippers might look very becoming with your ratty bathrobe as you sit in the library of your home, Tara II, reading the huge tomes that you do.

38. Death and Judgment, Donna Leon

While reading Faulkner's Absalom, Absalom!, I snuck this one in for a little light, fluffed-up pillow bedtime reading. The problem is that this Commissario Brunetti mystery, the fourth in the series, is anything but light. When Martha threw me out of bed at midnight because the light bothered her, I sat on a kitchen chair to finish it.

Peopled with powerful people, an international white slavery ring (where many of the slaves are not white), a host of dead bodies, various sleazebags, and the making and distribution of snuff films, this is a tough book—replete with a killer ending.

For me, this was the best Leon to date and I recommend it highly to lovers of mysteries and police procedurals. I'm ready to read her next one, Aqua Alta, which Joycepa says is even better, so if anyone needs me I'll be in the kitchen.

Charlie,

"this is a tough book-replete with killer ending"

What a wonderful turn of a phrase.

If you're going to stay up like that at least try to find a comfortable chair.

Message edited by its author, Jul 5, 2009, 9:39pm.

#197: Well, you know--each of us picks favorites within a series based on personal tastes. Acqua Alta is my favorite because it's almost a straight thriller.

One of the biggest bangs got when rereading the series the last time was to do so using GoogleEarth maps. slows things down until you get the feel for Venice which, as Brunetti keeps saying, is a very small town. I have waiting for me the only Marshall Guarnaccia I didn't have until it came out in reprint, The Marshall at the Villa Torini, and I plan to do the same thing with Florence.

I'm such a bad stalker. Sorry, Charlie, I'll do better, I swear! :( I read your reviews (which are wonderful, btw), but I always forget to leave comments. Re: The Light Fantastic, I've been wanting to read Terry Pratchett for the longest time (though I have read Good Omens, the one he co-wrote with Neil Gaiman, but I wasn't too impressed with that one--it wasn't exceptionally funny, for me anyway); but I never find any of his books in the secondhand bookstores I haunt. Obviously he's that popular that no one wants to get rid of his books. I'll just have to keep looking . . . .

I hope you and Martha have a good weekend Charlie. And the little doggies too of course.

Message edited by its author, Jul 17, 2009, 1:24pm.

just missing your reviews and remarks.
hope all is well.
belva

Message edited by its author, Jul 17, 2009, 1:22pm.

Hi, Charlie,
I just returned from my trip. I wanted to stop by and let you know that I enjoyed your review of the Discworld book. This series is definitely on my radar. Have a great day!
--BJ

39. The Angel's Game, Carlos Ruiz Zafón

You know, I sometimes wonder about people. Unless a book's denouement is beautifully gift wrapped with a neatly tied bow and a cherry on top, readers complain about it. At least that is the case on Amazon.com, where many reviewers are confused, disappointed, and frustrated by The Angel’s Game ending.

Never mind that on the same product page Zafón says,

"The Angel’s Game has many games inside, one of them with the reader. It is a book designed to make you step into the storytelling process and become a part of it."

For me, I loved this entire book, including its ambiguous ending. The Angel’s Game is simply marvelous, a throwback to the “true” classics that require a reader to think. Zafón refers to one game with the reader; I believe the game is the book as a whole.

That said, attempting to recap the story in a paragraph or two is difficult.

Barcelona, the 1920s. David Martín, a talented writer, is the protagonist. Or is he? While writing a successful series of penny dreadfuls at breakneck speed for two penny-pinching men who publish them, Martín finds out he has a fatal brain tumor. Or is it? Enter Andreas Corelli, a publisher from Paris and an admirer of David’s writing. Corelli makes David an offer that is difficult to refuse: 100,000 francs, a fortune, in return for writing a book that will change the hearts and minds of its readers. When David refuses on the grounds of his short life span and his publishing contract, Corelli tells him not to worry. Martín stays the night at Corelli's, dreams of an operation, and when he wakes the tumor is gone. Or is it? Shortly thereafter, his publishers die when their office is set afire, thus voiding the contract. It is obvious (is it?) that Corelli is responsible for the cure and the fire—he must be some sort of supernatural creature and our antagonist. Or is he?

I must ask these questions because everything that occurs in this book is set in quicksand. David Martín is a man obsessed. Obsessed with the previous owner of his stone fortress home. With unrequited and tragic love. With freshly murdered bodies and he the suspect. With Corelli and Corelli's book. David is a man teetering on the edge of sanity and I, as part of the storytelling process, am standing right beside him.

I can prove it. From page 404 of The Angel's Game:

"I recalled how the old bookseller had always told me that books have a soul, the soul of the person who wrote them and of those who read them and dream about them."

A big fat thumbs up "fer ya" Charlie!~!
Great review and you sold me on the book. Not a genre I normally would pick up, but this one sounds like a real brain bender and I think I might like it.
Very well done sir! And my best to you.
belva

damn, double posted again.
sorry.

Message edited by its author, Jul 28, 2009, 1:02am.

Great review!

Wonderful review! I'm scheduled to pick it up next week once I get a bit further ahead in schoolwork...

40. In the Woods, Tana French

Tana French won the 2007 Edgar Award for this, her first novel. I cannot deny her achievement—her writing and characterizations are quite good—but the book left me lukewarm. At a hefty 464 pages, it was much too long for a police procedural—the same problem I have with Ian Rankin’s John Rebus series.

The story takes place in a suburb of Dublin, where twelve-year-old Katy Devlin is found murdered on an archeological dig. Partners Rob Ryan and Cassie Maddox are assigned to the investigation, which proceeds slowly—even with CSI-type technology and an incident room full of floaters and gofers. In the evenings, they get together with a third detective to hash out the day’s non-progress, reminiscent of Jonathan Kellerman’s Alex Delaware-Milo Sturgis very tiring ”what if” fests.

French’s twist involves Ryan: having grown up in the same suburb and the same woods, his two best friends, both Katy Devlin’s age, disappeared and were presumed murdered. Ryan was the sole survivor, found with his tennis shoes full of blood, but he has no memories of what happened that day. Much of the book is devoted to his attempts to recollect the events of that day and in the process tie the old murders to the new.

French makes it clear throughout the book that, underneath their cop exteriors, lay the hearts and emotions of every human being. Point taken. But by book’s end, I found that I liked neither Ryan nor Maddox as people—in my opinion, a fatal flaw.

I give In the Woods 3 stars out of 5.

Good review Charlie and good to see you back on here. We miss you.
belva

But by book’s end, I found that I liked neither Ryan nor Maddox as people—in my opinion, a fatal flaw.

It's hard for me to like a book when I don't like the characters--though "liking" them doesn't mean that they have to be always likeable, if you know what I mean. For example, I liked reading about Olive Kitteridge and the main character in The Yiddish Policemen's Union even though I didn't always like their behavior.

Well, Charlie, you're keeping this book in limbo for me. Every time I read a review of it, my intention changes----better read it/oh,why bother. There doesn't seem to be a consensus among the readers I trust, so the latest one holds sway. Right now, that's you. So....sha'n't.

#211 I know exactly what you mean about "liking" characters, Bonnie. I've just read two books (Home and Property) with characters I wouldn't want in my family or at my dinner table, but they were certainly wonderful to read about. And Olive Kitteridge was in that category for me too.

Message edited by its author, Jul 30, 2009, 8:23am.

I've not read Home nor Property, though one is due in the post and the other is on my list. But I think all of us know an "Olive"; we may even have one in our families (I actually do) and I totally know what both of you mean. She was that kind of a fit for me as well.

#211 & #212. This book is a tough call. Joyce liked it, I didn't, and we're both seasoned police procedural veterans. I wish I could give you my reasons, but I can't do that without spoilers.

Here's Amazon's count this morning, which is amazingly non-Bell Curvish.

348 Reviews
5 star: (79)
4 star: (71)
3 star: (62)
2 star: (74)
1 star: (62)

Hey to you too, Belva.

I wonder what this pirate bullshit is. On my blog, the widget which shows the books I'm currently reading precedes all the author names with "by the dreaded pirate" after the book title. I'm not amused, and it's probably time to move on outta here.

It's Talk Like a Pirate Day. You can turn it off by clicking the yellow "Turn Off Pirate Speak" message at the top of the page.

#215 Why don't you like fun?

#215: Aaww, don't leave us, Flakes!

#216: I was wondering what all the pirate hubbub was about, too. Thanks for clearing that up, lycomayflower.