Rebeccanyc Reads in 2011, Part 1

I'm excited about another year in Club Read.

I moved my best books of 2010 post down to post #5 so I can save this post for the books I read in 2010. An asterisk at the end means the book was a favorite.

40. Faith by Jennifer Haigh
39. Fatale by Jean-Patrick Manchette
38. The Sojourn by Andrew Krivak
37. A Drop of the Hard Stuff by Lawrence Block
36. The Eichmann Trial by Deborah Lipstadt
35. Life and a Half by Sony Labou Tansi
34. Ice Road by Gillian Slovo
33. The History of the Siege of Lisbon by José Saramago*
32. The Looking Glass War by John le Carré
31. A Murder of Quality by John le Carré
30. Call for the Dead by John le Carré
29. Soul and Other Stories by Andrey Platonov*
28. Rewilding the World: Dispatches from the Conservation Revolution by Caroline Fraser
27. The Fierce and Beautiful World by Andrei Platonov
26. Nineteen Eighty-Three by David Peace*
25. Nineteen Eighty by David Peace*
24. Nineteen Seventy-Seven by David Peace*
23. Nineteen Seventy-Fourby David Peace*
22. Iphigenia in Forest Hills by Janet Malcolm
21. Irretrievable by Theodor Fontane
20. Shadow Tag by Louise Erdrich
19. Time of the Hero by Mario Vargas Llosa
18. Our Spoons Came from Woolworths by Barbara Comyns*
17. The Vet's Daughter by Barbara Comyns*
16. Open City by Teju Cole
15. The Lost Steps by Alejo Carpentier*
14. Bogeywoman by Jaimy Gordon
13. Matagiri by Ngugi wa Thiong'o*
12. Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead by Barbara Comyns*
11. Wandering Stars by Sholem Aleichem*
10. Conquered City by Victor Serge*
9. Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak*
8. Just Kids by Patti Smith*
7. She Drove without Stopping by Jaimy Gordon*
6. The Maias by José Maria Eça de Queirós
5. The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman
4. Vacant Possession by Hilary Mantel*
3. Every Day Is Mother's Day by Hilary Mantel
2. Tun-huang by Yasushi Inoue
1. Bait: Four Stories by Mahasweta Devi

I moved my analysis of 2010 reads down to post 6 so it could follow the list of my best reads of 2010.

Rebecca, I'm reading Great House at the moment and the writing is beautiful. I liked Krauss's The History of Love a lot, but I think this is even better.

Glad you are liking it, Amanda. I haven't read The History of Love, but was inspired to get Great House by a NY Times review that said it was as beautifully written and as insightful as The History of Love, but was tragic without any of the "exuberance" of History. I'm a sucker for grim, depressing books!

I have moved my list of best books of 2010 to this post from post #1 so I can leave post 1 for the list of books I read in 2011.

At an even 100, this probably wraps it up for 2010, since I won't finish the other book I'm reading, The Collected Stories of Jean Stafford tomorrow. So, after much thought, here are my favorite books of 2010. I struggled mightily to reduce this list even more, but this is the best I can do. What can I say? It was a great reading year!

New and Recent Fiction

The Best
Lord of Misrule by Jaimy Gordon
Great House by Nicole Krauss
A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan
The Siege by Helen Dunmore
Where the God of Love Hangs Out by Amy Bloom

Runners Up
Q Road by Bonnie Jo Campbell
The Last Brother by Nathacha Appanah
The Betrayal by Helen Dunmore

Classics and Older Fiction

The Best
Shadow Country by Peter Matthiessen
Conversation in the Cathedral by Mario Vargas Llosa
The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov
The Balkan Trilogy by Olivia Manning
The Long Ships by Frans Bengtsson
The Mountain Lion by Jean Stafford
Captain Pantoja and the Special Service by Mario Vargas Llosa

Runners Up
School for Love by Olivia Manning
Wolf among Wolves by Hans Fallada
Terra Nostra by Carlos Fuentes
The Green House by Mario Vargas Llosa
Hotel Savoy by Joseph Roth
Wish Her Safe at Home by Stephen Benatar
The Feast of the Goat by Mario Vargas Llosa

Honorable Mention
Burning Secret by Stefan Zweig
Doctor Glas by Hjalmar Soderberg

Nonfiction

The Best
Bloodlands by Timothy Snyder
Murder City by Charles Bowden
The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich byWilliam Shirer
Nothing to Envy by Barbara Demick
The Road by Vassily Grossman (this collection includes both fiction and nonfiction, but the essay "The Hell of Treblinka" is the brilliant, horrifying heart of the book)
Travels in Siberia by Ian Frazier
Hitler and Stalin by Alan Bullock

Runners Up
The Whites of Their Eyes by Jill Lepore
The Eitingons by Mary-Kay Wilmers
Dreams in a Time of War by Ngugi wa Thiong'o
Great Plains by Ian Frazier
In Search of a Lost Ladino by Marcel Cohen
Operation Mincemeat by Ben Macintyre

I've also spent some time analyzing my reading for 2010 and thinking about my reading for 2011.

41 books (conveniently, 41%) were by global authors (defined as books not from the US, the UK, or Canada)

Of these, 8 were by German or Austrian authors, 7 by Russian authors, 7 by South or Central American authors, 5 by French authors, 3 by Swedish authors, 2 by Central European authors, 2 by African authors, 2 by Asian authors, 1 by an Italian author, 1 by a Caribbean author, and 1 by an Estonian/Finnish author.

Clearly, I need to make more of an effort to read works by non-European authors in 2011.

37 books (conveniently, 37%) were by women. Interestingly, ALL of my new or recent fiction favorites were by women. Most of the global fiction books I read were by men; I need to make more of an effort to read global fiction by women (Belletrista, here I come!).

A significant part of my nonfiction reading was focused on my "evils of the 20th century" project (basically the Hitler and Stalin eras, although there was plenty of evil elsewhere in the world and at other times in the 20th century). There are still some books I want to read for this project in 2011, and I also want to continue my reading about contemporary issues, but I'd like to get back to some more fun nonfiction too.

ETA I also plan to participate in the Author Theme Reads and Reading Globally theme reads this year.

Sounds like you had a wonderful reading year in 2010. I look forward to seeing your thoughts on the authors at Author Theme Reads considering you've already had a great start on Llosa! Best of luck in the new year. :)

1. Bait: Four Stories by Mahasweta Devi

This is a collection of strange, terse, angry stories about ordinary people caught in the criminal underworld of Calcutta and its surroundings in the '60s - '80s, an underworld that is very much in league with politicians and businessmen. Devi, who is a well known and respected writer and political activist in India (her work involves so-called "tribal" communities), writes in an almost telegraphic style, with little description, focusing on the actions and the thoughts of the characters. Because of their work -- as killers, "fishers" of bodies from water tanks, prostitutes, etc. -- the characters are not sympathetic, but the reader sees them as partly unwilling cogs in a larger system, people dehumanized by their work. While most of the stories deal with men, the women in them are particularly oppressed.

The stories are not easy to follow because of the terse style, and I found the lengthy introduction by journalist and translator Sumanta Banerjee helpful in explaining their political and historical context. The book is part of its Indian publisher's "What Was Communism?" series, but the only connection I see to communism is that, according to Banerjee's introduction, some of the victims of killing in the stories were Naxalites (and he himself was jailed for being one); according to Wikipedia, the Naxalites were/are a Maoist group.

I reviewed a Devi non-fiction work for Belletrista, a biography of the Queen of Jhansi who played a role in the 1857 Rebellion. Thanks for reviewing these stories - it's interesting to know about her fiction.

Nice review of Bait: Four Stories, Rebecca; I'll have to look for this one.

Your review, Char, and the queen herself are very interesting; I think it is very worthwhile to try to reclaim the history of women and others whose stories are not often told, even if some of Devi's method is irritating to those who like sources for their history. I am going to look to see if I can find some of Devi's writing about the "tribal" communities she works with.

ETA I bought it at Book Culture, Darryl, and I believe the publisher (Seagull) is distributed in the US by the University of Chicago Press.

8 - Sounds really interesting, but I'm really upset you mentioned Book Culture. I have to pass it tomorrow on my way to the farmer's market, and it takes great strength of character to resist its siren call.

Jane, I resisted it yesterday when they had a 20% off sale because I had been there about two weeks earlier and stocked up. But I understand the feeling because it is very hard (impossible?) for me to pass a bookstore and not go in.

I was so unimpressed by Look at Me that I can't imagine I'll like A Vist From the Goon Squad, but am going to read it because people have assured me it's lots better. Good title for sure! I loved The History of Love and dark novels, so am looking forward to Great House, but it will be awhile since it's so popular in hardback, darn it! Got The Siege though--yeah! Nothing to Envy keeps coming up on Friends' lists so will probably read that this year too. Happy reading! Have always enjoyed your posts in the 75-Book group.

eta: Or, I don't see you there, so maybe followed you here?

Lord of Misrule and Great House are sitting on my physical TBR pile and I'm going to look to the library for A Visit From the Goon Squad. I heard Egan read a chunk of the first chapter on some podcast this summer and was intrigued.

I also happen to catch a New Yorker magazine "book discussion" podcast (I'm a runner and I'm always listening to something) about Where the God of Love Hangs Out, which prompted me to read the book. This was my first by Amy Bloom and I really enjoyed it. Loved the Clare and William stories, but it was the Lionel and Julia stories that got to me. Have you read other things by Bloom?

Looks like you had a good reading year. Here's to more.

#14, Bonnie, I never read Look at Me, but I did read The Keep, which I had mixed feelings about. But I was eager to read A Visit from the Goon Squad because I had read versions of some of the chapters as short stories in the New Yorker and had been impressed by Egan's ability to develop characters and their psychology, with compassion, and without saying much.

And I am in 75 books, but I don't have one of the really chatty threads, so it tends to be harder to find.

#15 Where the God of Love Hangs Out is the best book by Amy Bloom that I've read -- she's a good example of writers getting better as they get older/more experienced (maybe Jennifer Egan is too). I enjoyed her earlier book of stories that I read, A Blind Man Can See How Much I Love You, which includes two (?) of the Lionel and Julia stories, but it is not as strong God of Love, and I both enjoyed and disliked her novel, Away -- I think she tried to cram too much into it, and I didn't like the ending, but I loved her imagination and ambition.

Thanks, both of you, for stopping by.

2. Tun-Huang by Yasushi Inoue

In 1026, Chao Hsing-te falls asleep in a courtyard and misses his call for an all-important examination that will land him a coveted job in the Chinese civil service. With his life plans turned upside down, he wanders aimlessly and then a chance encounter makes him decide to travel westward so he can learn the language of the Hsi-hsias, a neighboring people who are threatening the western boundaries of China. Over the subsequent years, he wanders, frequently changing course on what seems to be spur of the moment: fighting battles with the vanguard Chinese unit of the Hsi-hsia army, falling in love with a princess caught in a captured city, learning to write the Hsi-hsia language and creating a Hsi-hsia - Chinese dictionary, traveling with an arrogant andsuccessful trader, studying and becoming enamored of Buddhism. All of this leads up to his role in an actual historic event, hiding thousands of Buddhist scrolls in the caves at Tun-huang, scrolls that were not rediscovered until the 20th century.

While I found Hsing-te's personality a little difficult to understand and Inoue's focus on the nobility of characters with royal blood a little irritating, I really enjoyed the depiction of the environment, people, and the interactions among warriors, traders, and scholars in the western regions of China and central Asia nearly 1000 years ago. And it is an adventure story too; I definitely kept wanting to find out what was going to happen Inoue's writing is deceptively simple, but well suited to what reads almost like a history, a history with fascinating characters.

#17 -- Ha, I have just gotten hold of this from the library! It's sitting on Mt. TBR right now... I also have Where the God of Love Hangs Out, so maybe I'll bump that up on my list, too.

#17 At some point I intend to do a China-themed reading year...I'll try to keep this one in mind.

Dan, a few years ago, I read a bunch of contemporary Chinese novels, of varying quality, including Wolf Totem by Jiang Rong (disappointing), Serve the People by Yan Lianke (who I see has a new book out) (moderately fun satire, but a little heavy-handed), and Life and Death are Wearing Me Out (by Mo Yan (fun but could have used some serious editing). I have Brothers by Yu Hua on the TBR.

It is interesting (to me, anyway) that Tun-huang was written by a Japanese author.

Rebecca - I have mostly non-fiction in mind. The "reads almost like a history" catches my attention.

rebeccanyc> I agree with you on Life and Death are Wearing Me Out. That said, I find that (what seem to me to be) overly-long novels are a feature of Chinese fiction (Beijing Coma also comes to mind here).

That said, Su Tong is one Chinese novelist who writes terse but excellent novels. I recommend Binu and My Life as Emperor.

Enjoying your reviews, Rebecca.

Thanks, Amanda.

And thanks for the Chinese novel recommendations, Trismegistus.

I hope to get to Tun-Huang soon--my art group is currently studying ancient Chinese art (Although in this segment of our study, we'll only get to about 200 A.D.).

I read The Vagrants last year, which although the author lives in America I thought gave a real, gritty and compelling look at life in a Chinese industrial town, with real and sympathetic characters. It wasn't too long either. I have Beijing Coma and also Brothers on my shelf and hope to get to them this year.

aruba -I also enjoyed The Vagrants and thought it was a very compelling, upsetting look into Maoist China and the social dynamic.

I agree with Deborah's and Karen's assessments of The Vagrants. Beijing Coma and Brothers are high on my TBR list, as well.

Another fan of The Vagrants here! I reviewed it for Belletrista ages ago and still think about it.

I believe the author of Vagrants has had another book out since this one...

I'm curious, Rebecca, how does your analysis of your 2010 reading compare with 2009?

The author of The Vagrants has a new collection of short stories that appeared late last year, Gold Boy, Emerald Girl. It's sitting on my Kindle, awaiting me... Thanks for the great Chinese novel rec's; I've added several to my wish list.

As always, Rebecca, you put titles on my list that I probably never would have encountered otherwise. Thank you, thank you.

Thanks, everyone. I've been caught up in family stuff and have been away for a while, but I'm going to post reviews of the books I've been reading. I hope to catch up with everyone's threads over the next week or so. Lois, I would have to go back and analyze my 2009 reading because I don't think I did it at the time; it's an interesting question, so I will go back and do that.

3. Every Day Is Mother's Day by Hilary Mantel
4. Vacant Possession by Hilary Mantel

Every day is mother's day because Mother (Evelyn), ostensibly the "normal" one in the Axon home (although she is in touch with a variety of evil spirits within the house), rules the life of her daughter Muriel, who is somewhat retarded or somewhat crazy (or both), but definitely uneducated and tormented, with an iron hand. Into this mix comes a new social worker, Isabel, who just happens to be having an affair with the unhappy married brother of the woman who lives next door. With her usual perception and wit, Mantel raises the tension until this cauldron of troubles bubbles over.

However, the sequel, Vacant Possession, is much better: funnier, creepier, and more tightly plotted. Possibly this is because Muriel, by far the most interesting character, is the star of this novel. After years in a mental institution, where she received some education but learned more from her fellow patients, Muriel is ready to seek revenge and reclaim what she believes is rightfully hers. Mantel creates vivid characters (especially the "insane" ones), skewers conventional middle-class life, and toys with the definition of sanity in this dark, dark, comedy. Some may find her reliance on coincidence occasionally strains credulity, but for me this was an extremely enjoyable fable, and a fantasy, not a realistic representation of life.

5. The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman

I read this book because lots of people here on LT loved it and because someone in my favorite bookstore recommended it. Alas, for me, it was a failure on several levels. The characters seemed one-sided, occasionally even caricaturish; their stories often predictable; and the writing, while easy to read, made me feel the author picking his words. The overarching "plot" of this series of linked stories/portraits of a newspaper in decline didn't grab me either, and I am somewhat at a loss to understand why this book has received such high praise.

But what bothered me the most were Rachman's portraits of women, especially those focused on their careers. Spoiler alert! They are driven and controlling, and pathetic idiots when it comes to men, picking losers they have to support, or who steal from them one way or another, all from fear of being alone. One woman, who has abandoned her career to live a domestic life with an editor, likewise picks a loser for a lover, and one is so desperate for romance (or at least for sex) that she attempts to pick up a man she has just caused to be fired, and who apparently doesn't know that she was behind the decision. Does Rachman really hate women this much?

#33. There you go again! I recently read Every Day is Mother's Day, but I didn't know there was a sequel. I heartily agree that Muriel was the most interesting character in it, so naturally I will want to read Vacant Possession. Oh, it's dangerous to come here.

6. The Maias by José Maria Eça de Queirós

The Maia family is old and rich, but by the 1880s has shruk down to a grandfather and grandson. Trained as a doctor, the grandson Carlos (whose parents, both dead, had a tragic romance) lackadaisically sets up a Lisbon practice, but mostly spends time hanging out with friends of various sorts and having casual affairs with married women. before setting off a complicated chain of events by falling in love with one particular woman.

The novel, considered Eça de Queirós's masterpiece, paints a broad, often satiric portrait of the Portuguese upper classes, their prejudices, the world they lived in, their political and artistic controversies, and their place in the larger European context. While I found this insight into a world long gone (and deservedly so) fascinating, I became irritated by Carlos and his superficiality by the end of this lengthy book, and found the coincidence on which the plot turns a little contrived and melodramatic. Nonetheless, the characterizations are wonderful; all kinds of people, at least people of the nonworking classes, spring to life in Eça de Queirós's writing.

7. She Drove without Stopping by Jaimy Gordon

What a thrilling mixture this book is! Partly a road trip story, partly a coming-of-age tale, partly a portrait of the poet as a young woman, this novel interweaves sexual exploration, exploitation of women and feminist anger, race and class issues, money and its real and imagined significance, the impact of family, and questions of loyalty and friendship.

Jane Turner, the product of an unhappy childhood, decides she can no longer stand living in the dorms in her college and sets off on what she hopes will be the life of an adventuress. Of course, adventure in reality isn't what it seems to be from the outside, and over the course of the novel Jane encounters a variety of charming or dangerous characters (who largely fall into the category of people who would appall her parents), drives cars on the verge of falling apart, struggles with her writing and with her father's hostility, and questions herself every step (or mile) of the way.

As with her National Book Award winner, Lord of Misrule, which was one of my favorite books of last year, Gordon's writing is gorgeous and allusive, and her compassion for her characters is clear; however, this book is less structured and "conventional" and much more personal and brave than her latest work.

Fantastic reviews. I found your description of Rachman's portrayal of women in The Imperfectionists to be similar to my feelings about Larsson's portrayal of women in Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Both books were wildly popular in general. Is this a common occurence? If so, what does that say about society's acceptance of the depiction of women in popular fiction?

You've been busy, Rebecca! Great reviews & comments...

I do understand your points about Rachman, but I still ended up enjoying the book. Perhaps because -- and it's scary to say this in the wake of your comments -- the situations and the personalities are so akin to people I've known in the newspaper world. No, not in terms of the specific plot elements, but in that mixture of arrogant brashness and internal insecurity. And perhaps also because I've spent much of my life as some kind of expat, and part of what drew me to these linked stories was the way Rachman captured that.

Can't wait to read Lord of Misrule. At the current pace in the Brooklyn library system, I should have it by the end of March...

Oh oh! I downloaded The Imperfectionists onto my iPad the other day based on some other LT reviews. Oh well, it only cost me 5 bucks--guess that's why it was so cheap?

Great reviews, Rebecca. I have The Imperfectionists on my Must Buy list but now I can cross it off. (That leaves only 4,999.)

Thanks, everyone. Bonnie, you may like The Imperfectionists as Suzanne and other people did. Lisa, I haven't read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (and don't intend to), but I realized at the end of last year that all my favorite recent and contemporary novels for the year were written by women (see post 5 in this thread). I do read plenty of books by men, but I guess the ones I really liked were classics and older works; I'd have to look back to see what contemporary work by men I read and why they didn't make my favorites list.

In defense of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo: I am constantly puzzled as to why some women think Larsson hates women. According to everything I've read, including interviews, he didn't--in fact, quite the opposite. Also, if ever there was a strong woman, Lisbeth Stalander is it. She's not just a survivor, she fights back. AND in the course of the trilogy, grows and changes--but is always strong--and incredibly moral. Yes, she's a flawed character, but so is everyone else, and she comes out head and shoulders above everyone else.

Of course, it's a police procedural or whatever you want to call the genre or subgenre, but it does not lessen Lisbeth. And the movies, so far, have been terrific--the actress who plays Lisbeth--Noomi Rapace--is adamant about Lisbeth's strength. In fact, she threatened to shut down the first film because the director wanted to rewrite a scene that Rapace thought lessened Lisbeth's character--and she refused to go along with it. They stuck with the original screenplay.

Lisbeth is the strongest, most moral character in that book. And the other women are no 50's housewives, either.

All three books are violent, and many may object to that, but I do NOT understand the objections to the Larsson books on the basis of misogyny.

About the others I can't say, but I find myself avoiding current fiction, particularly by British and American men.

I had a similar reaction to The Imperfectionists, and particularly his portrayal of women. I agree with Joyce that Larsson's treatment of women in The Girl books is much different, and that they are strong characters who can stand on their own. Larsson seemed quite feminist to me, and although he did perhaps linger a bit too long in the scenes of sexual violence, my takeaway was that he wanted to do his part to expose violence against women in the hope of change.

Sorry to hijack your thread, Rebecca, with a book you're not going to read!

rebecca, Just posting to say great reviews yesterday.

Well said, Joyce.

Not to worry, Chris; all discussion is welcome!

So long as REbecca doesn't mind... :-)

According to something I read--I believe it came from the woman he lived with for 30 years--when Larsson was an adolescent, he witnessed a gang rape of a teen-aged girl, and didn't do anything to stop it. The guilt stayed with him for the rest of his life. And yes, Chris, that is something he hoped to see changed. I've never read any explicit statement that he was a feminist, but certainly his companion talked about his admiration for strong women. What I loved about all 3 books was that NONE of the {ETA: main character}women are victims.

I think that Rapace is the perfect Lisbeth. I can't wait until the 3rd film is on DVD and I can download it.

And now to retunr the thread to its rightful owner! :-)

Oh and as a P.S.: Rebecca has already made it clear that Vargas Llosa "speaks" to her, so to speak, (sorry!). I can add another Latino name to anyone interested: that of Luis Alberto Urrea, whose books also have very strong women in them.

Perhaps I should elaborate on my comment in #38, since it seems to have stirred up heated responses.

I disliked The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo in part because of the relationships between men and women. The character in the book with the most face time, Blomkvist, seems to me to be a sexually insecure middle-aged man's alter ego. He has sexual relationships with nearly every woman in the book, regardless of status or age. Yet he is a mediocre person at best: disgraced, broke, and physically unattractive (according to the book). *Potential spoiler* Yet young Lisbeth sleeps with him, he has a long-standing affair with a successful married woman, and a sexual interlude with an older woman who just can't keep her hands off him. *End spoiler* Why would strong successful independent women sleep with him? To me it implies that a woman without a man is not "complete", or that what women really want is to be with a man, or perhaps that we are so desparate for sex that anyone will do. In any case, ick.

As far as Larsson the person, I'm sure you are correct in that he wanted to expose violence against women in hopes of preventing it. I was only speaking of his portrayal of women in the book. Personally though, I feel that his strategy is not successful because I believe that graphically violent depictions only stimulate more of the same. But that is a separate issue.

I too found Lisbeth an interesting character. I wish she had played a larger role in the first book. I thought the strongest thing she ever did was *Spoiler* leave him behind and try to find peace on her own. Unfortunately, she went back.

Interesting, because I had a completely different response to Blomkvist. His "disgrace" is actually that he was set up, and couldn't defend himself without betraying sources. (Kind of a journalist's nightmare.) Broke -- well, because of the former. Physically unattractive? Well, probably 2/3 of men over 35 are in some way. Then there is personality, intellect, charm/charisma and all the stuff that draws one person to another. The sexual relationships? Perhaps because I've numbered some Swedes among my closest friends since I was a teenager (I'm now in my 40s) I wasn't too surprised or shocked; sexuality there is viewed in a completely different light. I could see reasons for all the relationships you cited: the on-again/off-again affair with his married friend is a relationship that is primarily a friendship with sex thrown into the mix; neither could really let go of the other and each served an important role in the other's life. I thought Lisbeth slept with him because he was someone who viewed her as a person, and a person with a brain -- and yes, that can be very attractive, especially since it's clear that Lisbeth has a younger person's attitude to sex -- if it feels good, why not? (I get the sense he was more hung up on her, ultimately, although it was she who made the moves and was definitely in control of that relationship.) And the third woman -- well, that was the classic fling, with maybe a bit of manipulation on her part.

I actually saw all the women in the book as strong, independent characters who make decisions about their relationships very much on their own terms. And actually, I suspect if I met a Blomkvist in real life -- someone intelligent and determined -- I'd probably be very drawn to him! Not because anyone would do, but for precisely the opposite reason. Because so many of the men who "could do in a pinch" end up boring me witless after a while. But then, I don't see that "disgrace" as disgrace (I'm a journalist myself) and there are things I value a lot more than good looks and money in a man.

I do agree that the graphic nature of the sexual violence was disturbing, and that those people who are going to be intrigued by that could be stimulated by it. But then, I also suspect that many of those people won't have very far at all to go to find and read far more disturbing stuff. I don't think many will turn to Larsson to be titillated, and anyone who in reading Larsson discovers his tastes do run in that direction would, I suspect, have made the same discover in some other way. I winced while reading, I had to leave the movie theater during the scene in question (Lisbeth's rape), but I don't think he could have or should have pulled his punches.

The relationship in the books I find sickening is between Lisbeth and her father. I simply can't understand it, and keep wondering if that is so extreme as to not be plausible -- was he exaggerating it for dramatic effect and to explain Lisbeth's character?

Nicely put, Suzanne.

Although I agree with you that Blomkvist was set up, and acted honorably in not betraying his sources, I still didn't find him an appealing character. I felt like he slid into doing the right thing, almost by accident. Perhaps, though, I should view his weakness in character as a foil for the women's strength, rather than as a symptom of theirs.

As for his sexual relationships, your point about Swede's/European's difference in perspective regarding sex is a good one. Perhaps Larsson saw him as acting normally, rather than as an insecure man seeking status through sex. I wouldn't sleep with him in a million years, but to each her own!

Graphic violence is very difficult for me to handle, so I am definitely prejudiced here, but just as violent video games increase testosterone and violent thoughts, I think violent books and movies do the same. I wonder if some borderline psychos aren't pushed over the edge by watching scenes of sexual violence. I can't help but wonder if the story could have been told without the graphic depictions of Blomkvist in the cellar and achieved the same aims.

I never read beyond the first book, so I didn't get to meet Lisbeth's father. Sounds like that's a good thing for me. *shudder*

#51: OK, so now I know that Chatterbox's real name is Suzanne! Thanks for that piece of info.

Interesting, Suzanne, your reaction to the relationship between Lisbeth and her father. I didn't find it extreme, but perhaps I've just read too many noir thrillers/procedurals/whatever.

I agree that a case can be made against graphic violence. In fact, I agree that a case can be made against verbal violence as well. I'm all for the Sheriff of Pima county, AZ. No need to go to a movie theater or a bookstore for your violence--just listen to the politicians.

But what exactly are the authors of such books--and movies--really after? There is no question whatsoever that some are simply out to make money off of it because violence sells, certainly in the US where violence is endemic in the culture. Still, you can usually spot the gratuitous stuff. But in others?

I'm not so sure about Europe. I read a great deal of mystery/thriller books from europe and Africa, and it doesn't seem to be the same level of sadism. Larsson, in my reading experience (granted, limited) seems to have been an exception. For that reason, I really give him credit for his motives. It's very hard to reconcile Larsson's books with the stereotype of the Scandanavian countries. But I have read not one single Swede claim that such violence does not exist. In fact, I have read mostly praise for Larsson's courage in exposing the Swedish underbelly.

I don't think one can make categorical statements about what should be portrayed and what shouldn't be. How, for instance, would the US have reacted in the 60s if the NY Times and other mainstream newspapers had not rather graphically (for the times) reported what was going on in the US South? The picture that assured the Civil Rights laws--the little girl being attacked by a police dog. Gruesome descriptions of lynchings and burnings. I lived through those times and can tell you what effect it had on me. The photo that at least helped turn the tide of US public opinion against the war in Vietnam: that of Vietnamese villagers burning alive, running, from napalm dropped by US warplanes. Graphic? You bet.

It says volumes about my sympathies when I say that the violence against Blomkvist didn't even ruffle one of my eyelashes, while I was gritting my teeth at Lizbeth's rape.

I don't read Blomqvist's actions as being by default. He made conscious decisions, knowing full well the consequences of his actions. I viewed him as being a flawed but decent, strong man.

I'm not one who confuses freedom of speech with license, but it is a hard line to draw. Fiction will many times reach far more people than will news accounts, and given the incredible self-censorship of the US mainstream media, at least, fiction is sometimes the only vehicle that can get the truth out.

Suzanne is absolutely correct--believe me, you can read far worse. I would advise against reading Lehane's Kinsey/Gennaro series; some of them are so dark that I can not reread them. Yet I think that Lehane raises moral questions that are difficult to answer. His are serious books.

Where to draw the line given the realities of today's world?

As far as I'm concerned, there is NO ACCOUNTING for the sexual attraction between human beings, no matter what the combination! Just as well--if it were all rational, life would be pretty boring! :-)

there is NO ACCOUNTING for the sexual attraction between human beings, no matter what the combination! Just as well--if it were all rational, life would be pretty boring! Ain't that the truth! My grandmother's response to an unlikely pairing was always "Well, there's a lid for every pot!"

Well, you all have been busy here -- thanks for an informative and entertaining conversation!

#53: Honestly, where would 3/4 of my gossip come from if all were demure? Of course, I don't gossip, but others do, and out of politeness, I'm forced to listen. Otherwise all we'd do is complain about construction and the rain. Believe me, talking about human relationships is lots more fun than griping about the fact that there isn't a decent plumber in the province of Chiriquí.

Rebecca, you're a gracious hostess! I've vastly enjoyed the differences of opinion. Don't you hate it when everyone agrees? More boredom. Life's too short.

Oh yes, the tedium of universal agreement... LOL!

I think I have read similarly dark books set in Europe -- Val McDermid's books spring to mind, particularly the Tony Hill series. I tried reading Box 21, a book I got from Amazon Vine, and I was so utterly repulsed by the sexual violence I made it less than halfway through. (Another Swedish author.) I haven't read Lehane's books yet, so can't really comment on those.

It's something to ponder -- is violence (or sex, for that matter) more or less powerful when it's explicit? I applaud authors who can write well about sexual tension between two characters effectively -- that's far more intriguing than the anatomical descriptions of sex, particularly when it comes to advancing a plot and character development. I hadn't thought about this re violence, however. I wonder if some authors might argue that being explicit about violence in, for instance, rape forces us to acknowledge ugly truths that we otherwise choose to shy away from? I've worked as a rape crisis counselor, and one of the things I heard people say over and over again is that many of those closest to them couldn't bear to hear them describe what had happened. Probably there are various reasons for that, but many of those survivors felt that they had to be still stronger to compensate for that. Just random musing here...

#56: That is a powerful point you've made, about people not being able to face up to the ugly realities of the world. I think that is particularly true in the US where, until 9/11, everyone lived in blissful ignorance of the fact that the world is not a safe place, never has been, and never will be. Europeans and Latin Americans, to mention what I know best, are far, far more realistic. It is educational, to make the ironic understatement of the year, to sit in a friend's kitchen and listen to the story of how her brother was dragged from their parents' home in the community where I now live, and tortured and killed by Noriega's thugs. She lent me the book she and the families of other victims received from the Panamanian government's Truth Commision; my Spanish was good enough to read it. We're talking 25 years ago. It is an ugly story. it's not fiction. And let me tell you, there are many in certain sectors of Panamanian society who would rather not have that story told. Too many of Noriega's protogés are politically influential today. that is not just true of panama, but other countries as well. (Look at what happened in Germany after WWII.) so ordinary people here understand the realities of life very well.

I do believe that fiction reflects the times. And I think that serious authors will use different genres to get their points across. After all, it's not much practical use to write a dense, philosophical treatise that explains every dilemma if no one is going to read it! many of what we now consider masterpieces of literature by authors such as Dickens, a slew of Russians, to name ones that come to mind immediately, wrote exposés of the conditions of their times which most of the middle class and higher chose to ignore. After all, as Dickens and others wrote, English opinion of the times was that the poor deserved their lot. And worse. That it was genetic and therefore nothing could be done.

In fiction, there are too many Latin American authors to even bother to list. One that comes to mind because I've been reading him lately is Mario Vargas Llosa, but there are many, many others. You want explicit violence? Not hard to find there.

Different times viewed different topics as unmentionable or outrageous.

Thank you, suzanne, for telling us of your experiences; that's precious information that more people should know.

As many of you know, I read a lot of grim books, from around the world and from different periods in history. I can certainly say that I have learned as much about the sad history of violence in this world -- be it political, racial/ethnic, sexist, psychological, or whatever -- from novels as from nonfiction, although I read that too (and often it is a novel that has stimulated me to read more about a topic). By and large, people are often not very nice to each other (or at least that makes a better novel than one in which they are -- broad generalization).

That said, for me I can usually take the violence in a novel if it seems to fit in with what the author is trying to do, but not if it seems gratuitous in some way. I'm afraid that since it's a little early in the morning, and since my brain has been addled by a cold, I'm not able to come up with good examples of this. And I feel the same way about sexual scenes in novels, although -- in another broad generalization -- I do think writers find it more difficult to write well about sex than about violence. Much as with older movies versus newer ones, it's generally a lot sexier to suggest the attraction between people than to describe/show what they actually do. (Think of the original The Postman Always Rings Twice versus the remake.)

And I do agree with you 100%, Joyce, about the ignorance of many people in the US; in fact, my sweetie and I talk all the time about how people here are so ignorant of history, including our own history. For example, while 9/11 was terrorism from outside the country, there has been terrorism within the country for decades if not centuries. Aside from the obvious examples like the Oklahoma City bomber, how else to describe lynching if not as terrorism, supported by the powers that be?

I have no adjective strong enough to describe the American ignorance of their own history; appalling ain't in it. I know of no other country in which such ignorance is so widespread. Here, where the educational system is a disaster, Panamanians are very, very aware, very knowledgeable of their own history.

What is even worse is that Americans DON'T WANT to know. I can not think of, at the moment, a nation that is so willingly self-deluded as the US, which is one reason, I suppose, that the nation is so easily led into war.

Every time ANY President, including Obama, for whom I voted, starts yakking self-righteously to ANY nation, including China, about human rights I have to change my reading to the comics.

>59 Joycepa: well, that was a post to end my day with!

I really think you all should consider moving the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo conversation to a separate thread where others, who may want to join in, can find it. Seems we were talking somewhere else in this group about it as the result of a recent NY Times (Guardian?) article that mentioned some of the book/books themes, including that it's a revenge fantasy (and yes, he mentioned feminism). Honestly, perhaps someone could copy and paste the relevant posts here and open the discussion up to the rest of the group. I have not read the books (nor do I intend to), but I'm always fascinated with the response to bestsellers like this - you know, why the general reading populace goes crazy over a certain book at a certain time (i.e. Pollyanna{the HP of its time}, The Da Vinci Code, Bridges of Madison Country, the John Jakes's "Kent Family Chronicles"...). Of course, I could only participate in a Steig Larsson thread as a cultural observer...:-)

#59 and others
I should not get involved in the discussions about Americans not wanting to know about their history, being a European and never having visited the States. It is fascinating to read your views however.

I do have a view on violence in novels and I think the bottom line is Violence sells books. To take two recent examples of books both based in Europe. The DaVinci code which I read and thought was absolute tripe and the latest sensation the Steig Larsson books, which I will try and avoid. It would seem to me it is the fantasy of violence that turns people on and people are turned on by these books. There is no fantasy in violence just look at the news broadcasts.

#60, Lois, did you have a particular thread in mind? I'd be happy to paste the discussion somewhere else if you think others would be interested in it, but maybe I should start a new thread???

>63 rebeccanyc: a new one, of course! I think the link to the ariticle might be over on Cait86's thread. It was a fascinating piece. Hubby & I had a nice chat why readers who claim they can't read JCO because she's "too dark" gooble up this book like it is candy.

Your wish is my command, Lois! Here it is.

#58 & #59: You are not alone. Theres plenty of ignorance in Australia about our own history. And the part that involves Australia's Indigenous people is just plain disgraceful.

Amanda, at the risk of offending anyone--and I don't mean to--I've thought for many years now that the people most like Americans are Australians. This conclusion came much more out of contact with quite a few Australians. After reading The Fatal Shore, if so, I can see why. And that book very clearly states that there has been a deliberate distortion of your history up until about the 1980s, because of the convict stigma.

Joyce, you're not offending me. I don 't think that anyone cares about the convict past any more. I think Australians are, perhaps, more like the English than the Americans. But the massacres of Aboriginal people and the attempts to breed them out is terrible. And their problems, caused by European settlement, continue to this day.

#68: Thanks, Amanda--I was a little worried at so abrupt a comment of mine. Many times I fail to take in account that perhaps two sentences do not adequately describe or even begin to summarize hours or even years of thought on a subject! :-) It's a really bad habit of mine.

I have never visited Australia, and my comment was based on those I met--who were, of course, in the US (I know two here, one of whom has left). I thought that those I knew, one a very close friend from Melbourne, shared certain characteristics with Americans, such as a very optimistic, open, can-do attitude, an overt self-confidence that I have not seen in other foreign nationals (speaking from an American point of view). Of all the people I met, I thought that Australians fit into the US better than any other nationality.

Hughes' book was one of the hardest I've ever read {ETA: Norfolk Island, Van Dieman's Land}. I could not read it through--I put it down 3 times, once for several weeks. The only other books that affected me that way were Taylor Branch's books on the Martin Luther King years. At one point, it was months before I could start reading it again. As it it, I'm resting before reading the 3rd book.

Hughes was, I thought, excellent on the subject of the aborigines. And while he was careful to keep within his set limits of history--the period up until 1855--he did make several comments throughout the book about the impact of policies and continuation of attitudes to his present day (the book has a 1979 publication date). The "modern" attitudes toward the aborigines was one of them.

I'm going to put in here what I think is an exact quote (I'm not 100% sure of one word) from Taylor Branch's books (he quotes it in both the first and the 2nd) on the US Civil Rights era; Branch is quoting a Mississipian in 1961:

We killed 2 month old Indian babies to get this land {possibly country}. And now they want us to give it to the niggers.

No country has the corner on the market for genocide. Or attitudes towards indigenous peoples. Plenty of blame to go around.

By the way, Amanda--can you give me a link to what you consider a representative, online Australian newspaper? I read extensively in the Latin American and European presses every day, but that's it. I know nearly nothing about what's happening in your part of the world.

8. Just Kids by Patti Smith

This is a book about art and becoming an artist, and about love. Patti Smith, the rock singer, artist, and poet, and Robert Mapplethorpe, the artist and photographer, met when they were "just kids" in 1967, having both come to New York City with dreams of becoming artists. They were lovers, friends, each other's muse and biggest supporter until Mapplethorpe died of AIDS in the late 80s. In this book, Smith tells the story of their young explorations of art, portrays the 70s scene in the Chelsea Hotel and Max's Kansas City, mentions a lot of famous and not-so-famous people, and speeds through their becoming the artists they are famous for being, he as a photographer who shocked people with his depictions of sadomasochistic and gay sex, and she as a rock star.

The most moving parts of the book are the places where, through her words, Smith illustrates what it means to be an artist, describing how both she and Mapplethorpe were driven to create, driven to find meaning in all sorts of objects. I don't think I've ever read a book (which says more about my reading) that so vividly captured the essence of being an artist. I also found their devotion to each other over the years touching, and the insight into the art "scene" interesting. This is a poetic book.

I've seen several interviews with Smith about this book and have found her to be real and substantive. I'm so glad that you can confirm that the book is as good as I had hoped. I can't wait to read this.

I too really enjoyed Just Kids, and it has stayed with me. I lived in NYC during the mid-late 70s and Smith's depiction of the city, particularly the Village, resonated with my experience -- altho I certainly didn't travel in her social circles.

The only period I haven't lived in NYC was from 1971-1975; from 1978 to 1989 I lived downtown, so a lot of the NYC stuff resonated with me as well, and I particularly liked remembering the old 5th Ave. Scribners (and Brentano's), which like so many of the bookstores of my childhood and youth are no more. I too didn't move in those circles, although when I lived downtown I passed CBGB (also no more) all the time, and I had a friend in high school who lived a block away from the Chelsea Hotel.

#70

Your review of Just Kids has finally made me add this to my wish list as I have read other good reports about it. I have coffee table book of Mapplethorpe's black and white pictures (although I'm careful about which pictures I leave the book open at) which I love. I have always found Patti Smith interesting her CD's "Horses" and "Easter" are brilliant and I have been to a couple of her concerts. At both the concerts Patti said that Fred "Sonic" Smith (guitarist with MC5) was the love of her life and I didn't realise she had been so close to Mapplethorpe.

Nice review, Rebecca.

Joyce: www.smh.com.au

#74 Patti Smith married Fred "Sonic" Smith and had two kids with him, but she barely discusses him in the book, not because he wasn't the love of her life (or, as she describes him in the book, "a prince among men") but because the memoir is about Mapplethorpe and her, a book he asked her to write as he was dying.

Hi Rebecca, I've had my eye on Just Kids for a while, despite having discovered Patti Smith's music only relatively recently and knowing nothing about Robert Mapplethorpe or New York in the 70s (though, as a huge Blondie fan, I did make sure I walked by CBGB as was on my one and only trip to NYC). Do you think this book would appeal to the uninitiated wanting to learn about this "scene" or am I liable to get confused?

Edited to remove illogicality!

You would certainly get a feel for it, although I wouldn't consider it a guidebook.

That's OK. It really caught my eye purely because Patti Smith, from the little I know of her, seems like an interesting person, but I was concerned that my lack of prior knowledge of the context might spoil my enjoyment/understanding of the book. It sounds like it has general appeal though.

Starting tomorrow, I'm going to be on vacation and away from my computer for a week; I hope to mostly sleep and read. Some of the books I"m considering bringing are Doctor Zhivago (the new Pevear-Volkhonsky translation), Conquered City by Victor Serge, Wandering Star by Sholem Aleichem, The Traveller's Tree by Patrick Leigh Fermor, and The Real Life of Alejandro Mayta by Mario Vargas Llosa. Subject to change! See you all when I get back.

Have a great time, Rebecca!

Impressive list. I hope you get to read them all! Rest and enjoy.

Have a good trip!

And a safe one, too!

I am definitely reading Dr. Zhivago -- I've been saving it for this trip -- and probably Wandering Star and The Traveller's Tree; not sure about the others.

Just wanted to say that I have finally got round to catching up with your thread, and there is some excellent and varied reading their, as well as some fantastic reviews. I have it noted as one of the threads that may get expensive for me.

9. Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak

Doctor Zhivago is a wonderful, complex, and moving novel, but not at all what I imagined from my impressions of the movie, which I've only seen in parts and never in full. I more or less expected a traditional epic love story set against war-torn Russia, but I found instead a very modern portrait of a world falling apart and people struggling to survive -- both in general and in Russia in particular, from just before the 1905 revolution through the first world war, the two 1917 revolutions, the civil war, Stalin's early years and, in the epilogue, up to the turning point of the second world war. Through not only the protagonist and his circle, but also secondary and even incidental characters, Pasternak portrays the chaos, randomness, coincidence, hypocrisy, hunger, opportunism, and suffering of these times, with occasional glimpses of love, art, honor, nobility, and human decency.

The edition I read is the new translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volkhonsky; in his informative introduction, Pevear notes that Pasternak was trying, as Tolstoy had, to capture the feeling of life as it is lived, and I believe he does so, with the episodic nature of the novel, the multitude of characters, the digressions from the "plot" and the protagonists, and the broad encompassing vision of the soul-destroying effects of war, power, and ideology.

Many themes and images run through the novel, but I was most struck by three. First, and again like Tolstoy and many other Russian writers I've read, Pasternak has a beautiful feeling for nature, from the red berries of the rowan tree to the way snow falls, the behavior of wolves, and a horse neighing because she senses another horse is nearby. The vast, harsh, and stunning expanse of Russia is another character in this novel. Second, trains play a big role, and are often not running: several characters trek huge distances through barren or forested land and one of the most striking images in the book is of dozens of trains buried under the snow, a reality nobody is supposed to acknowledge. Third, there is a religious theme, with frequent references to aspects of Russian Orthodox services and prayers (which I would not have recognized without the helpful end notes), a continuing and cyclical presence throughout the devastation of historical "progress." Along with this, several of the characters who are believed to be dead subsequently reappear, sometimes the same, sometimes dramatically changed.

I have written at length, but I feel I've only scratched the surface of Doctor Zhivago, without any discussion of the characters or the story. It is an amazingly rich and provocative experience.

10. Conquered City by Victor Serge

The conquered city is Leningrad in 1919-1920, ruled by the Communists (Reds), but threatened on all sides by the White Russian army and its western supporters, the "Green" fighters gathering in the forests, hunger, lack of fuel for heating or cooking and, perhaps most of all, by exhaustion from years of fighting. Against the backdrop of Leningrad itself, founded as St. Petersburg by Peter the Great as Russia's window to the west, and its glorious imperial buildings and natural setting, Serge presents interlocking vignettes of the population of the hard-pressed city: the hungry, frustrated, railway plant workers threatening to strike; the enthusiastic and dedicated converts to the communist cause; the cold and hard-working "Special Commission;" the spies, plotters, and informers; the criminals and prostitutes; the soldiers near and far; the remains of the intelligentsia, and more. In terse prose mixed with the language of official proclamations, Serge, a committed socialist who had to flee Stalin's Soviet Union, vividly depicts the philosophical and actual confilcts of the time, the hypocrisies and betrayals, the pressure to conform, and the struggle for individuality and meaning. Of the the three novels by Serge I've read, this is certainly the most intense.

Thanks for your comments, Andy.

As you all can see, I had a relaxing, book-filled vacation. It will take me a while, but I'll eventually catch up with all your reading threads.

I'm glad to hear you had a relaxing vacation. Two wonderful reviews. I too remember the screen version of Doctor Zhivago more than the book, especially since I watched it again this past year. Your review has inspired me to want to read it again. Conquered City sounds intense but worth it. It will be interesting to read it so soon after The Siege by Helen Dunmore. She does a fair job of depicting the city and its people. Maybe I'll start a Leningrad-themed TIOLI next month.

Wow, Rebecca, great post-revolutionary Russian reads! When I was studying Russian, I tried Zhivago in that language, encouraged by some early successes with short stories. Yup, idiocy of the first order. I should take a look at this translation, I think.

btw, I'm now reading Zennor in Darkness by Helen Dunmore -- I'm perhaps a third of the way into it and think it's excellent. I seem to remember there was one of hers that you read that you didn't like -- what was the title of that one? I'm going to try to get hold of the rest, but may put the one that left you cold at the bottom of the heap!

>87 rebeccanyc: So glad you like Zhivago. Now you know how I could give one of my children, one of the character's names:-) Interesting, though, the themes and motifs you picked up on. I need to reread it, perhaps the new translation which is in the TBR, but I am a little reluctant because it has been such a powerful novel in my past.

Welcome back, Rebecca! I just started A People's Tragedy: The Russian Revolution 1891-1924--I think you've just given me a good start on my follow-up reading list!

Thanks, Lois and Chris. Lois, I have to say I had mixed feelings about Lara as a character, but Larissa is certainly a beautiful name. Chris, reading about the Russian revolution(s) in fiction has now made even more interested in reading about the French revolution in Citizens than I was before. So it will probably be next up when I'm ready for a tome!

I've been planning to read the new translation of Zhivago soon, since I received it for Christmas. It will be my third read of the novel, I believe, and I'm a little wary of it, as Lois said, because of my memory of the "feeling" of the book. Something akin to reading a modern version of the Old Testament when you're accustomed to the language of King James. At the moment I am reading Chaim Potok's Gates of November, which I think makes a good foundation for the novel, since it covers all that same history in a succinct sort of way.

great review of Zhivago, Rebecca, and a most fascinating thread. I shall try to visit more often so I don't miss all the drama, all the gossip!

I'm very late to your thread, Rebecca, but I love your review of Zhivago. Another one to add to my ever-growing TBR pile.

Rebecca, have you read A Captive of Time? it's the memoir of Olga Ivinskaya, Pasternak's mistress, and the model for Lara? It's about their years together, and a fascinating and moving account of their relationship and their life under Stalin.

I believe it's out of print now and hard to find. My copy is ancient, but if you can find it, it's really worth reading.

Lots of copies of A Captive of Time on offer on e-Bay, very reasonably priced. (One less than there was a few minutes ago, of course!)

Thanks for stopping by, Murr and TineOliver, and no, I haven't read A Captive of Time. Alas, it sounds very interesting, and I'll have to track it down, although who knows when I'll read it. I have to say I was not totally enamored of Lara as a character.

I have never read Dr Zhivago but since both you and Lois have cited it recently I shall have to put it on my list.

11. Wandering Stars by Sholem Aleichem

What a wonderful story-teller Sholem Aleichem (the pen name of Solomon Rabinovich) is! And how vividly his secondary characters jump off the page! Together, these make Wandering Stars a book that is hard to put down, even as the plot, such as it is, wanders as much as the characters and even disappears as much as one of the two main characters does.

The book starts in the tiny Bessarabian (now part of Moldavia) shtetl of Holeneshti when a traveling Yiddish theater comes to town. While this is by far the most exciting thing that has ever happened there, it is clear to the reader that it is also far from the top level of theater. Nonetheless, the town is enchanted, especially two teenagers: Reizel, the poor cantor's daughter, and Leibel, the son of the richest man in Holeneshti. Together, they fall in love with the theater and, on a starry night, pledge their undying love to each other.

The rest of the book chronicles their separate wanderings, especially Leibel's, who becomes Leo, through much of Jewish eastern Europe and then to Vienna, London, and ultimately New York where (SPOILER ALERT) they ultimately meet again, 10 years later, he as the biggest star in Yiddish theater acting, she as Rosa, an internationally renowned singer, each with complicated relationships.

But that is only the plot. On top of this thin thread of a love story, the novel spills over with the energy of the theater, the poverty of many Jews in eastern Europe, the competition of theaters and newspapers, the varied characters, the constant scheming, the plotting, the back-biting, the ambition, the betrayals, the love and friendship -- above all, the vibrant life. Admittedly things slowed down a little at the end, but overall this is just a fun, fun read, largely because of the amazing writing and vivid imagination of the author.

It is enhanced by an enthusiastic introduction by playwright Tony Kushner and a scholarly afterword by Dan Miron.

I've seen this twice in the bookstores recently, but passed it by. After reading your review, I'll be sure to pick it up next time!

Getting caught up on your thread, Rebecca, and loving your review of Doctor Zhivago. I'm going to have to get around to reading the book soon, but then, the film is one of my favourites, and I would hate to find that it differed greatly from the book.

Wandering Stars sounds lovely too - you always read such wonderful books :)

Thanks, Cait and Lisa. Cait, I discussed the book with my sweetie, who's seen the entire movie, and it sounds like the movie took one part of the book and focused on the romance with Lara, while the book includes a whole lot more, and that the movie also both adds and changes material from the book.

I'm going to rent the movie (once I watch the movie I've had from Netflix for over a month!) because I've never seen the whole thing and I'm curious.

But the book was wonderful!

I'm having trouble deciding what I feel like reading next. This hasn't happened to me in a long time and I find it disconcerting, although I know it will not go on forever. I keep picking up books I thought was eager to read and not getting excited by them. Oh well, maybe I'll catch up with the newspapers and magazines, but I do need to pick some books to bring on a train trip to DC this weekend and back.

I had the same problem yesterday. This happens to me a couple of times a year, usually when I try to read a challenging book or two when I'm tired. Hopefully we'll both find something compelling to read in the next day or two.

read some Tales by Hoffmann. They always work for me. short, evocative. not much of a commitment until something longer comes along, but diverting and often lovely.

>107 rebeccanyc:: When I run into that problem, I pick up a short story collection since, as #109 notes, it's not a big commitment. Or I catch up on the magazines that pile up.

I'll sometimes try reading a book by a favorite author, whose writing style I think I'll appreciate at that moment. I was thinking of reading The Singapore Grip by J.G. Farrell if I couldn't get into my current novel, as I loved The Siege of Krishnapur and Troubles.

Thanks, everyone for the advice and consolation. Darryl, as you know I loved Troubles and The Siege of Krishnapur too; The Singapore Grip isn't quite up to them but was fascinating for me because I was unfamiliar with the history of Singapore during World War II.

I ended up buying some more books today, but still am not sure what to read . . .

Still in my book funk, but facing train trips to DC and back this weekend, I am packing more books than I can read in the hopes that several stick, and amfollowing some of your good advice.

The Real Life of Alejandro Mayta by Mario Vargas Llosa -- favorite author
Matigari by Ngugi wa Thiong'o -- favorite author and short
Bogeywoman by Jaimy Gordon -- favorite author
Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead by Barbara Comyns -- short
The Lost Steps by Alejo Carpenter -- planning to read for Reading Globally theme read on journeys
Gulag by Anne Applebaum -- next up on my reading about the Stalinist era and just in case I feel like something really grim

just in case I feel like something really grim Oddly enough, sometimes when I can't decide what to read, something slightly heavy will engage me, simply because it demands full attention. Good luck.

#113: I'm interested to get your take on the MVL (which I haven't found yet) the Carpenter (I've added it to my wish list), and the Ngugi (I read it last year). Have a great trip!

Wandering Stars sounds very good, and is available on Kindle, so I just downloaded a sample. I hope you're having a good trip!

Back. Read Matigari, Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead, and Bogeywoman and will post reviews tomorrow. Started The Lost Steps and Gulag. The train was delayed by engine troubles so I had additional reading time, except that the overhead lights didn't work so I had to squint all the way from Philadelphia to NYC!

12. Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead by Barbara Comyns

As soon as I heard the title of this book in a thread here on LT, I knew I had to buy it. Taking place in a small English village towards the end of the 19th century, this is a strange and absorbing hybrid of a story: hand in hand with a pastoral delight of a river and ducks and cows and cabbages lurks a tale of unsettling if not sinister events, notably a flood (which, among other less pleasant effects, allows the ducks to swim into a living room) and a mysterious illness that makes people mad before it kills them, but also a death in childbirth that leaves an unexplained daughter, unplanned pregnancies, a happily promiscuous baker's wife, and a cat killed when a mad woman falls on it. Sex and death abound beneath the surface of this traditional country village.

The story focuses on the Willoweed family -- the deaf and controlling grandmother, the lazy, widowed son, his three children -- as well as on the two young sisters and one elderly man who are their servants and on some of the townspeople. Aside from the flood and the epidemic, nothing much happens: life goes on, mixed as it it is with death, people interact with each other, mostly in their habitual ways, and yet, as in life, things change. What is fascinating in this book -- which above all is a lot of fun -- is how Comyns portrays both the beauty and the horror so calmly and objectively and how unobtrusively yet precisely she depicts her characters and their pretensions, fears, unhappiness, dreams, hopes, and loves.

13. Matigari by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o

Although I've been a Ngugi fan since reading 1026301::Wizard of the Crow a few years ago, I hadn't heard of Matigari until Andy/depressaholic and Darryl/kidzdoc highly recommended it here on LT. A satire, an allegory, and a fable, it tells the tale of Matigari, which means "the patriots who survived the bullets," who emerges out of the forests after an unseen but epic fight with the colonizers to find that his unnamed but now postcolonial country is under the thumb of the former freedom fighters in league with western corporations and the military, particularly by His Excellency Ole Excellence, the Minister for Truth and Justice, and the specialists in Parrotology. Matigari is searching for his house, the house he built but that the colonizer lived in before the and the colonizer and the colonizer's African flunky fled into the forest to fight.

In mythical fashion, and in accordance with oral tradition, this story is repeated in various forms throughout the book as Matigari arouses the people, is hunted and jailed by the powers that be, and struggles to promote the people's right to own the products of their labor and live in freedom. This is not a straightforward tale. Time is fluid and Matigari is mysterious -- sometimes old, sometimes young, sometimes even the resurrection of Jesus. All in all, the novel is a compelling combination of a traditional form with modern literary styles and a vivid exploration of disillusionment, hope, and the necessity to continue the struggle.

14. Bogeywoman by Jaimy Gordon

Bogeywoman, the third book by Jaimy Gordon I've read, is a compelling, intense, clever coming-of-age story told by Ursula, the self-named Bogeywoman, a very smart but very troubled teenage girl -- troubled most of all by her realization that she is a lesbian but determined to be one "Unbeknownst to Everybody" and to never even mention the word but represent it by a star symbol. Soon after she has gotten herself into a bit of a problem at summer camp and used a knife to write on her arms, she winds up in an upscale mental institution, a place where her fellow teenage inmates are mostly no more crazy than she is: no psychotics here, just children, with a few exceptions, who are too much for their rich parents to handle -- a girl who sleeps with every man she sees, a boy who takes every drug he can find, and so on. Eventually, a new and mysterious doctor arrives, Ursula falls in love and, as many of the book's subtitles proclaim, "love got me out of there."

We as readers are inside Ursula's mind, and the book is full of her own language, words (often very funny) that she uses in place of the ones we know: psychiatrists are dreambox mechanics, for example, and men and boys are fuddies. It takes a little getting used to, as does the her combined fascination and disgust, as an adolescent, with bodily functions. For me, as with Gordon's Lord of Misrule (which I loved), the ending was a little forced, if not on the melodramatic side, but that's a quibble. It is Gordon's brilliance with words and language, her ability to subtly tie together different threads and themes, and Ursula's individuality, strength, and determination that make this an unusual but rewarding read.

As a PS, for those who have read Lord of Misrule, Ursula is the sister of Maggie Koderer in that books, and a version of Maggie, as Margaret, is a secondary character in Bogeywoman.

Great reviews! Have added the Comyns book to the pile.

unexplained daughter, unplanned pregnancies, a happily promiscuous baker's wife, and a cat killed when a mad woman falls on it

It sounds a bit like Valeria's Last Stand. Odd characters, a town in the midst of change, objects and animals playing key roles. Have you read it?

I'm adding the Comyns book to the wishlist--everything I've read by her has been unusual and compelling. I already have Matigari on my shelf.

Interesting reading as always, rebecca.

#122, I'm going to look for other books by Comyns now that I've read this one, although it will be hard to top.

15. The Lost Steps by Alejo Carpentier

This is a fascinating, multilayered novel that I discovered when it was recommended for the Reading Globally theme read on Journeys. The outline of the story is simple: an educated and cultured musician, originally of European parentage but living in New York shortly after the second world war, has been reduced to working in advertising to support his wife, an actress whom he almost never sees because of their different schedules, and himself; he also has a mistress who is devoted to astrology and various poorly thought out bohemian ideas. Frustrated, dissatisfied with his life, he accidentally encounters someone from his past, a museum curator who decides to send him on an expedition to the South American jungle to find some primitive musical instruments. The core of the novel is the narrator's journey up a nameless river, through the jungles, to a hidden village; his somewhat unwilling return to New York, and then a failed attempt to return to the hidden village.

But that is only the outline. The real journey is one of time, time both in the sense of going back through history to earlier eras, because there are people in South America still living as people did centuries and millennia earlier, and in the musical sense. Music, myth, and a stunning, rich, almost hypnotic, use of of language dominate this book; I needed to look up a lot of words and terminology. Carpentier's depiction of the jungle is dramatic and beautiful, based partly on a trip he actually took up the Orinoco.

As the narrator goes up the river and back in time, he recovers a sense of who he really is, independent of the trappings of modern "civilization," and falls in love with a woman who is at once both primitive and modern. He even begins to compose again, and believes he wants to spend the rest of his life there. But first his former life intervenes, in the form of rescuers sent by his wife, and then later, when he returns to South America, he discovers that the people of the remote village always saw him as an outsider. The introduction to the edition I read, by Timothy Brennan, makes clear, as does Carpentier's writing itself, that Carpentier did not believe in romantic notions of the "noble savage" but rather that people must live as best they can in their own world and time period.

This book is one of those books that, when I finished reading it, I felt I should start again at the beginning, because I understood much more of what it was about at the end. I really enjoyed it.

The lost Steps looks interesting. I enjoyed your review. I noticed it was originally published in 1953 and other reviewers seem to have fallen in love with the book. Definitely one for me to read.

From your description, The Lost Steps sounds so lush and layered. Was there a Conrad-esque element to it at all?

I like the idea that people must live as best they can in their own world and time period. How often literary characters/we are frustrated trying to recapture the past or escape to a different life. There are whole sub-genres of literature that deal with this desire: time travel, alternate universes, switched identities, reincarnation even. But I don't think people usually want complete change, just the opportunity to lose themselves and start over. Characters always seem to want to bring something of their old life with them. It sounds like the kind of book I would like reading in a discussion group. Nice review.

Lisa, it is decades sine I read Conrad so I don't have a clear enough memory of his style to say whether this is Conrad-esque. Writing-wise, I would say that even though I read an English translation, there is something very Latin-American about his style (some have gone so far as to say that Garcia Marquez couldn't have written the way he did if Carpentier hadn't come before him).

You are so write that "characters always want to bring something of their old life with them" -- in this case, it is the narrator's renewed desire -- and ability -- to write music, and in this case it is part of his undoing because he realizes he wants to combine "out there" with "in here."

And, thanks.

#125 - Reading your thread always opens doors I didn't know were there. Through your review I'm fascinated by this book.

Dan, what a lovely thing to say! Many of the books I read, including this one, are ones I wouldn't have known about if it weren't for LT, so I'm happy to be able to recommend them to others too. LT is a wonderful place!

Ooh, you have some delicious reviews. Following your recommendations, and after c.10 years on my Must Buy list, I will be reading a novel by Mario Vargas Llosa next month.

Amanda, I hope you love Vargas Llosa. What book do you plan to start with?

16. Open City by Teju Cole

I have been puzzling over what to say about this widely and enthusiastically reviewed debut novel, partly because I was a little puzzled by it myself, partly because I didn't warm up to it as much as I hoped I would, and partly because I found it unsettling, and still do so a day after I finished reading it.

Very little happens in this novel. The narrator, a 30-ish psychiatrist resident in New York City, the son of a German mother and Nigerian father, wanders around New York City and Brussels, thinks about his childhood in Nigeria, encounters people of all sorts, meditates and converses on a wide variety of topics from literature and cultural theory to history, current events, and the horrors of the past and the present. Through this, the author explores alienation, immigration, war, racial and other oppression and prejudice, and memory and its illusions. Some mysteries are never resolved; one startling revelation at the end seems out-of-place.

I wish I liked this book better, because Cole writes well and explores interesting and important ideas. And yet, and yet . . . At times, especially in the narrator's early walks through the city, I felt it was almost a travelogue of a particular time, the latter part of the first decade of the 21st century, in New York, although this feeling diminished as the novel went on. The continuing references to the works of writers, artists, critics, and musicians were well integrated into the novel, but often made me stop to look up who someone was. The narrator and the author are familiar with all these people, but I was not. All in all, I enjoyed wandering through Julius's mind and thinking about the issues he discusses, but Open City didn't quite gel for me.

I'm sorry that you didn't like Open City, Rebecca. I'll probably read it later this month or in April.

I didn't completely not like it, Darryl; I guess I was a little frustrated by it. I wanted to like it more than I did and it may have been a matter of my temperament that I didn't respond to it more enthusiastically.

17. The Vet's Daughter by Barbara Comyns

This is a haunting and powerful story told by a young woman, still a teenager, living under psychologically oppressive conditions, her life barely her own. Alice lives with her father, the vet, a bitter, hateful, cruel, and nasty man; her mother, who is dying of an unmentioned but unbearably painful disease and who, under the influence of painkillers, reminisces about her happy childhood on a farm in Wales; and a varying menagerie of animals left at the vet's to heal or to board. Her only comfort is visiting her friend Lucy, who is deaf; they communicate in sign language. After her mother dies, the household and Alice's life change, but every slight opportunity she has to escape ends up making things worse and, naive as she is, she winds up in some scary and unhappy situations. Along the way she develops a strange power that at first the reader suspects is psychological and not real, but this too is taken out of her control, leading to a shocking conclusion.

Barbara Comyns is an amazing writer, who brilliantly creates these horrifying conditions so that the reader feels as oppressed as Alice. Not a detail escapes her, either psychologically or descriptively, and yet not a word is wasted. This is the second book I've read by Comyns, very different in mood from the first, but just as unique. I'm looking forward to reading more by her

Well you have convinced me to add a Barbara Comyns book to my wish list

>125 rebeccanyc: The Lost Steps sounds fascinating. I'll be looking for it, too. Thanks!

#125: ditto to #138. I've just added a couple of other books to my wishlist based on your fine reviews.

Thanks, Barry, akeela, and Steven. I love discovering new authors, and after discovering both Comyns and Carpentier through LT recommendations (of Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead and The Lost Steps, respectively), I'm happy to pass along the recommendations and I've already bought more books by both of them. LT is so dangerous . . .

18. Our Spoons Came from Woolworths by Barbara Comyns

Another winner from Barbara Comyns, this novel (apparently slimly disguised autobiography) is told by a now happy Sophia, recalling her first marriage and the years when she suffered from grinding poverty, a selfish husband, medical problems, and a not-so-devoted lover. Despite the rigors of Sophia's life as a working artist married to a nonworking artist in depression London, her never-expected pregnancies, her husband's aversion to children and responsibility, and the day-to-day hardships and indignities of never knowing how to to feed the children or pay the rent, Comyns tells Sophia's tale in her wonderful matter-of-fact, no words wasted, piercingly perceptive style. The novel is also enlivened by a very British love of odd pets and the English countryside. Home with a cold, I read this book in one day and enjoyed every minute of it.

I enjoyed that one, too, Rebecca. The only Comyns I've read so far, I believe.

When I read that I was so sad to realise that it was so autobiographical - the story really is not a happy one, although like you, I really enjoyed it.

Some of it is made up, though. In the introduction to the edition I read, Comyns' daughter is quoted as saying something like "why did you kill me off?"

19. Time of the Hero by Mario Vargas Llosa

Vargas Llosa's first novel demonstrates many of the techniques and themes of his later novels, including multiple (often confusing) narrators, class, race, and sex, but for me it was a less thrilling read than his later works. Set in a military academy for cadets (one which Vargas Llosa himself attended), the novel is a scathing indictment of such academies and implicitly the military itself, leavened by satire. I found the first third or so of the book difficult to read as it details the sadistic and horrifying way the cadets treat each other and introduces many characters all at once. Then, once one of the cadets has been killed, the book becomes more readable, and explores betrayal, loyalty, honesty, and hypocrisy. The story of what happens in the academy is mixed with scenes of some of the cadets back in their homes, both before and after their time in the academy. As I neared the end of the novel, I found it hard to put down.

Incidentally, Vargas Llosa is said to have disliked the English title; the Spanish title translates literally as "The City and the Dogs" and is a much better title ("dogs" is the nickname of the first-year cadets).

20. Shadow Tag by Louise Erdrich

Every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, Tolstoy wrote, and the family in this book is a train wreck waiting to happen. Irene, an aspiring academic, drinks too much, manipulates her husband by writing in a diary she knows he reads while keeping another in a safe deposit box, and longs to leave him. Gil, a successful artist who mostly paints pictures of Irene, has streaks of meanness and violence, but keeps the household organized and tries to think of treats for everybody. They both love and hate each other. The three children have their own problems, and each is a real character in the novel: one is a math genius, one obsesses about being able to save her family in the case of a disaster, and the youngest wishes he were an animal because it so hard to be a human.

Although I like a lot of Erdrich's writing, I wasn't sure at first whether I was going to like this book, but I got drawn into it by Erdrich's psychological insight and my interest in learning just how this marriage was going to self-destruct. It is ultimately a very sad book.

ETA There is a truly shocking typo in my paperback edition in which Irene is referred to as Louise!!! Where were the editors? And this is the paperback!!!!

>146 rebeccanyc: I have Shadow Tag waiting to be read. Apparently, it is influenced by the dissolution of Erdrich's own marriage to the author Michael Dorris. They had a nasty divorce, and I believe he committed suicide not long after. I think I'll need to be in the right frame of mind to get through this one. I am both fascinated and repelled by stories of incredibly dysfunctional relationships.

Nice reviews, Rebecca. I liked The Time of the Hero a bit more than you did, I think. I completely agree with MVL and you about the horrible and meaningless English title; the literal translation ("The City and the Dogs") was perfect (why do publishers do this???).

I need to read some of Louise Erdrich's books; I have The Plague of the Doves here somewhere. Better yet, I'll plan to read the Art of Fiction interview of her in the next to last issue of The Paris Review (#195, Winter 2010).

Darryl, I was so put off by the beginning of The Time of the Hero that I think it colored the rest of the book for me. As for Erdrich, I hadn't read her in years until I read The Plague of Doves last year, and really liked it, except for the ending which seemed forced.

Touchstones don't seem to be loading right now.

21. Irretrievable by Theodor Fontane

Although the blurb on the back of the NYRB edition that I read describes this book as the story of a married couple drifting apart, that is only part of the novel set in the second half of the 19th century in Schleswig-Holstein, the part of Germany that juts up into the Baltic and borders Denmark (and has, in fact, gone back and forth between them over the years). The bulk of it, which takes place mostly in Copenhagen, where the husband is temporarily serving as lord-in-waiting to an aging Danish princess, vividly depicts the frivolity and triviality of the aristocracy with nothing but time on their hands. Further, in my opinion, it cannot be said that the couple "drifts" apart; it seems more that after their differences become more apparent after years of marriage, the husband, weak-willed and self-indulgent, rationalizes his behavior based on the idea that his wife is "cold" to him.

Fontane, who was much admired by Thomas Mann, is a wonderful writer, whose dialogue and descriptions bring the characters, their psychology, and the natural and constructed environment to life. I was drawn into this novel, especially the parts that take place in the castle the couple built overlooking the sea, less so by the parts in the Danish court, although they were equally well written.

Touchstones still not loading.

Nice reviews, rebecca. I was particularly interested in your comments on Open City as I saw it in a catalog and was tempted by it. Ultimately, I suppose I considered my unread books and passed it by. Still, perhaps someday...

Number of broken marriages here. I love Erdrich, but I can't say I'm very drawn by Shadow Tag.

#151 Ultimately, I suppose I considered my unread books and passed it by.

That sometimes happens to me too, Lois. Sometimes in a bookstore I'm actually able to tell myself that I know it will be a long, long time before I get to a book because of all the unread ones I have, but still . . . I more often than not yield to temptation.

Edited to fix typos.

>153 rebeccanyc: Yes, I understand such impulses completely!

>146 rebeccanyc: - drinks too much and still manages to keep two diaries? How is that possible? Drinking too much requires a lot of time and effort.

22. Iphigenia in Forest Hills: Anatomy of a Murder Trial by Janet Malcolm

In this brief, readable, and thought-provoking book, Malcolm tells the tale of the trial for a murder that made front-page headlines in New York. Dr. Mazoltuv Borukhova, a doctor and a Bukharan Jewish immigrant, was accused of hiring a hit man to kill her estranged husband, Dr. Daniel Malakov, a dentist and also a Bukharan Jewish immigrant, in a playground in front of their 4-year-old daughter, Michelle, because a judge had given custody of Michelle to Dr. Malakov. Malcolm, a journalist, observed the entire trial for The New Yorker and interviewed many of the participants, as well as members of both the victim's and the defendant's families.

In just over 150 pages, Malcolm examines the nature of evidence, how juries behave and think, the individual personalities that lawyers and judges bring to a trial, how people do things that seem counterproductive, how one decision can lead to a whole chain of events and, above all, how we all turn life into stories and how these competing stories frame how we look at the world. This was a fascinating and troubling book.

It's disturbing how many people--who don't otherwise seem that crazy or evil--are willing to kill their spouses, ex-spouses, or soon-to-be ex-spouses because they don't want to lose control over money/material things, their children, or even that person, themselves. But the absolute saddest cases are when children are involved. We, especially, don't want to think that women could do this.

*shiver* I think if you are going to be a crazy homicidal person, you should look like a crazy homicidal person. It is very scary when the person looks, and otherwise acts, sane.

The book sounds quite thoughtful, not what I might have expected from a type of story that provides fodder for The Enquirer, et al.

23. Nineteen Seventy-Four by David Peace
24. Nineteen Seventy-Seven by David Peace
25. Nineteen Eighty by David Peace
26. Nineteen Eighty-Three by David Peace

I was inspired to read this crime quartet by Deborah/arubabookwoman's superb review. In her summary, she wrote "These four novels are amazing. They are not, however, for everyone. There are obscenities on every page. Brutality and violence abound, sometimes graphically described. Everyone is corrupt. The novels are bleak, gritty, cynical and despairing. If this description doesn't bother you, I highly recommend these books. Read as one, they are a masterpiece."

There is little I can add to this, except to say that Peace's writing is exceptional. Even though it can often be difficult to know who is talking or thinking, the way Peace gets inside people's heads so that his writing replicates how they think is astounding and, indeed, often poetic, despite the obscenity and graphic violence. I couldn't put these books down, even as they horrified me.

>159 rebeccanyc: I added the four Pearce books to my wishlist after reading Deborah's review, too, and now you've clinched it for me. Moving them to the top!

Fascinating reviews!

>159 rebeccanyc: I have only the first two novels in the series. Should I round up the other two before I start, or can they be read semi-independently?

Each novel ends with a big "bang," answering some questions partially and posing new ones, so I think you'll be frustrated if you finish the second one and don't have the third around. However, you might want to read the first and make sure you like it before ordering the third and fourth. The books may seem initially to be independent, but in fact everything is connected.

28. Rewilding the World: Dispatches from the Conservation Revolution by Caroline Fraser

(Yes, I skipped #27, The Fierce and Beautiful World because I'm going to review it together with another collection by Platonov, Soul and Other Stories, when I finish the second book.)

I was eager to read this book after reading a review of it, and I wasn't exactly disappointed, but I read it in bits and pieces over the course of several months and I think that reduced its impact on me. Fraser travels around the world to investigate "rewilding," the attempt in a variety of ways to reintroduce native plants and animals to areas that have been destroyed by human activities. The motivation behind this is the importance of healthy ecosystems to our own human health and livelihood, not tourism or do-gooding. As a journalist, she provides the science behind the activities in palatable doses, and mostly introduces the reader to people who are working on a variety of projects in Central and South America, Africa, Asia, and Australia.

One of Fraser's main points is that bridging the differences between local people who are trying to earn their livelihood and scientists and conservation supporters is central to making rewilding work. As she notes, "Conservation exposes the fault lines between property owners and the landless, between colonizers and indigenous people, between rich and poor. This piece of the jigsaw puzzle is not visible on the map. But it is, perhaps, the most significant piece of all." She illustrates situations in which the connections between local people and the conservationists have not been made and others in which involving local communities seems to be providing a way to make reserves work.

This is a readable book, with a lot of interesting information, and some valuable points about the significance of biodiversity and healthy ecosystems to human well-being.

Nice review of Rewilding the World, Rebecca. I should read more books about biodiversity and conservationism, so I'll add this to my wish list.

27. The Fierce and Beautiful World by Andrei Platonov
29. Soul and Other Stories by Andrey Platonov

As I was reading The Fierce and Beautiful World, a collection of one novella and several short stories, it occurred to me that the novella, "Dzhan" (which means "soul"), must be the same as the one included in Soul and Other Stories, which I also own. So I read the very insightful introduction to Soul and Other Stories by one of the translators, Robert Chandler, and learned that while they are the same, the version in TF&BW was a censored version that was published in the Khrushchev era, while Chandler had access to the full text of the novella and other stories. So I decided to read the later collection after I finished the first even though the majority of the stories in it, along with the novella, were ones I had read in the first collection.

Although I was impressed by Platonov the first time I read the stories, I was even more so the second time. I can't tell how much this was because they sank in more and how much because the translation was better and because Soul and Other Stories includes explanatory notes. Other than for the novella ("Dzhan," "Soul") I didn't notice any dramatically different material in the stories but there were definitely noticeable differences between the censored version of "Dzhan" and the full version of "Soul" -- not only additional material in "Soul" and references to Stalin that had been deleted in "Dzhan" but also other graphic or disturbing material, even material that doesn't seem to be politically sensitive. For example, a young woman who is described in "Dzhan" as having "sad eyes" is described in "Soul" as having a horsey face with boils covered by makeup.

Platonov is a beautiful writer, with infinite compassion for the poor and the outcast; the bulk of "Soul" involves a group of people living in the desert who are so poor and starving all they have left is their souls. He explores how people struggle to find happiness and what that is. He is fascinated by technology -- railroads, especially, and electricity -- with some of his characters able to work with machinery by feeling it, and at the same time deeply observant of the natural world, including both plants and animals, and how we humans react to it. Without his saying anything overtly political, it is clear to the reader that Platonov puts the individual and his emotional needs first. The stories require and deserve close attention.

Platonov died young, and Vassily Grossman, one of my all-time favorite authors spoke at his funeral. They are very different writers, but both are superb.

27. The Fierce and Beautiful World by Andrei Platonov
29. Soul and Other Stories by Andrey Platonov

As I was reading The Fierce and Beautiful World, a collection of one novella and several short stories, it occurred to me that the novella, "Dzhan" (which means "soul"), must be the same as the one included in Soul and Other Stories, which I also own. So I read the very insightful introduction to Soul and Other Stories by one of the translators, Robert Chandler, and learned that while they are the same, the version in TF&BW was a censored version that was published in the Khrushchev era, while Chandler had access to the full text of the novella and other stories. So I decided to read the later collection after I finished the first even though the majority of the stories in it, along with the novella, were ones I had read in the first collection.

Although I was impressed by Platonov the first time I read the stories, I was even more so the second time. I can't tell how much this was because they sank in more and how much because the translation was better and because Soul and Other Stories includes explanatory notes. Other than for the novella ("Dzhan," "Soul") I didn't notice any dramatically different material in the stories but there were definitely noticeable differences between the censored version of "Dzhan" and the full version of "Soul" -- not only additional material in "Soul" and references to Stalin that had been deleted in "Dzhan" but also other graphic or disturbing material, even material that doesn't seem to be politically sensitive. For example, a young woman who is described in "Dzhan" as having "sad eyes" is described in "Soul" as having a horsey face with boils covered by makeup.

Platonov is a beautiful writer, with infinite compassion for the poor and the outcast; the bulk of "Soul" involves a group of people living in the desert who are so poor and starving all they have left is their souls. He explores how people struggle to find happiness and what that is. He is fascinated by technology -- railroads, especially, and electricity -- with some of his characters able to work with machinery by feeling it, and at the same time deeply observant of the natural world, including both plants and animals, and how we humans react to it. Without his saying anything overtly political, it is clear to the reader that Platonov puts the individual and his emotional needs first. The stories require and deserve close attention.

Platonov died young, and Vassily Grossman, one of my all-time favorite authors spoke at his funeral. They are very different writers, but both are superb.

>167 rebeccanyc: Sounds like a great collection.

#167 on my wishlist they go!

#169 You really only need to read Soul and Other Stories. If I had known that it contained fuller versions of almost all the same works, I never would have read The Fierce and Beautiful World,

After Chris/cabegley mentioned reading Call for the Dead by John le Carré on her thread, I was inspired to read the early George Smiley novels (pre-Karla trilogy, which I loved). (I skipped The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, the novel that brought le Carré to fame, since I had previously read it: Smiley is a peripheral character in it.)

30. Call for the Dead by John le Carré

This slim novel, which was le Carré's first, is more a murder mystery than a spy story, although it involves some characters who may or may not be spies. It introduces not only George Smiley but also other people who figure in later books. I particularly liked getting some of the back story about Smiley's on-again, off-again wife Ann. As with other stories by le Carré, there is a dark mood, and themes he explores later with more complexity appear here too: loyalty, betrayal, the impact of history on behavior, exile from home, loneliness, and love. I enjoyed it, although it certainly isn't up to le Carré's best works.

31. A Murder of Quality by John le Carré

In le Carré's second novel, Smiley, temporarily retired, gets involved in a murder at a prestigious boys' boarding school. Like A Call for the Dead, it is a detective story rather than a spy story. In it, le Carré explores the particular closed world of the classic British school -- its class consciousness, its snobbery, its cliquishness, and its nastiness -- as well as his usual themes of loyalty/betrayal and loneliness. Again, not his best, but interesting nonetheless.

32. The Looking Glass War by John le Carré

Definitely a spy novel, or at least a would-be spy novel, this book introduces the Department, a military intelligence group that has faded in power and resources since its successes during the second world war -- a group that is competing unsuccessfully with George Smiley and Control in the more politically oriented Circus. Then they see an opportunity to recover their former glory and embark on a project that the reader can see is doomed to failure. Le Carré brilliantly captures a variety of characters, all flawed, from the young spy wannabe torn between his loyalty to the Department and his loyalty to his family to the ill, cynical old hand to the politically savvy but somewhat delusional Director to the former German-speaking Polish spy, now in Britain, who is lured back through his admiration of the English and his own memories, and many others. This is a "typical" le Carré novel with its gray, gloomy atmosphere, its cynicism, its focus on loyalty and betrayal, and its look at the decline of British power. Smiley is a peripheral character but significant character in this bleak but suspenseful novel.

33. The History of the Siege of Lisbon by José Saramago

I am grateful to the Author Theme Reads group for making Saramago the mini-author for January-April; otherwise I would not have read this wonderful book. Saramago interweaves the story of a 20th century Lisbon proofreader, an isolated, serious, professionally responsible man, who unexpectedly inserts a "not" into a history of the siege of Lisbon, indicating that the Crusaders did not come to the aid of of the Christian Portuguese laying siege to the Moor-held city of Lisbon, with an alternative history of that 12th century siege told through the eyes of the participants, and with a love story. He is not only a wonderful story-teller, but an amazing writer with a magical way with language, almost piling words on to bring out very slightly different shades of meaning, finding the telling detail to illuminate character and place, exploring multiple facets of both contemporary and medieval life, and implicitly drawing parallels between them.

Through this story, Saramago plays with the meaning of history and the writing of history, the role of individuals, the centrality of daily life, the use and abuse of language, the grittiness of war, and the transformative power of love. His writing style is sometimes difficult to follow, requiring and rewarding careful attention, but is beautiful (and, I must assume, beautifully translated). I have to believe Saramago had fun writing this delightful book. This was my first Saramago, but it will not be my last.

172 - Nice review. I stuck it on the wishlist.

re 172 - Rebecca - You have made this sound so interesting.

Thanks, Jane and Dan.

Nice review of The History of the Siege of Lisbon, Rebecca. I'll probably read it over the summer.

34. Ice Road by Gillian Slovo

Although I liked a lot about this book (which I first heard about here on LT), I found it disappointing. Only in the last few pages about the ice road across Lake Ladoga that relieved the siege of Leningrad (despite the title and the blurb on the back on my copy), the novel covers a group of interconnected people in Leningrad from the early years of the Soviet Union until the second world war, and particularly focuses on the time of Stalin's murderous purges in the late 30s. Slovo is ambitious, and tries to portray the feelings of people who believed in the goals of the Russian revolution, if not always in its methods, and who tried to further those goals even while making compromises with their own values and feelings. I admire her for trying to do this, even though I didn't find it entirely convincing. She does a good job of interweaving the different stories and creates some potentially interesting characters.

There are several reasons why I was disappointed in this book. Perhaps, the biggest one is that I have read a fair number of novels and nonfiction about this same time period, and this felt light weight compared to them. I am thinking here of writers like Vassily Grossman, Victor Serge, and Andrey Platonov, as well as books like Doctor Zhivago and Helen Dunmore's The Siege. Additionally, I never warmed up to most of the characters because they never seemed completely fully formed as characters and at times seemed like they were there to fill a role. And I got tired of their endless thinking and worrying, especially since very different characters seemed to express themselves with the same type of language, although expressing different thoughts. (For example, one character, who started out illiterate, keeps talking about how uneducated she is but expresses herself just like more educated characters.) Also, although I admire Slovo's historical research, at times it was a little heavy-handed; as a reader, I felt she was trying to make sure she mentioned the real historical facts a little too often. Finally, I thought the book was too long; I think it would have been more powerful if Slovo had condensed it.

I didn't hate this book but I had higher expectations than it was able to fulfill.

#34 - Very nice comments. This book was on my wishlist, but I'll take it off--at least until I've read Dunmore, Serge, etc.

Isn't Saramago great? I haven't read this one yet, but I have it on the teetering pile.

Thanks for the tipoff about Ice Road. It sounds like a book I would have picked up. Now I know not to!

Two thumbs from me :-)

Thanks, Steven and Lisa, for stopping by and for your nice comments. For some unfathomable reason, I haven't been following your two threads! I just found yours, Lisa, since you included it on your profile, and will be working my way through your interesting reading when I have more than a few moments to spare. Steven, I couldn't find yours -- could you point me in its direction?

OK, you got me to put two books on my wish list--the Rewilding the World book, as well as Saramego's. I thought his use of punctuation in Blindness played an important part in creating a sense of blindness for the reader as well, so I was very admiring of it. Normally, punctuation--or lack thereof--doesn't seem to bother me as much as it does other people, but we'll see.

#180> Here it is: http://www.librarything.com/topic/107443 . Thank you for asking. I guess I should put a link on my profile page.

Bonnie, did you do the group read of Blindness? I didn't but should try and find the thread. I bet it was interesting. So far all six of Saramago's books that I own are sans punctuation. I didn't find it an impediment either, once I got past the first few pages. I would think it would make things more difficult for the translator though. Do you like e.e.cummings, another famous punctuation-less author?

Interested to hear about The History of the Siege of Lisbon. I liked The Double very much.

Ironically I'm reading another book without much punctuation though there's some: the Sound and the Fury. It makes sense here with the stream of conscience writing.

The History of the Siege of Lisbon had very long sentences, but it did have punctuation, so I'll have to wait until I read more Saramago to encounter the lack of punctuation.

He doesn't really lack all punctuation. Mostly just those pesky quotation marks.

#185 I applaud your current reading choice. Why don't you mosey over to the Faulkner group from time to time and tell us what you think of it as you go. Spark a little discussion. Nobody's doing anything but spittin' tobacco over there at the moment.

#185/188 I'm reading that next! I'll have to drop over to your thread when I'm done.

35. Life and a Half/La vie et demie by Sony Labou Tansi

This remarkable book is unlike anything I have ever read and I really don't know what to make of it or what to say about it. Sony Labou Tansi (I don't even know which is his first and which his last name) was a Congolese author who, in the 70s wrote what he calls a fable "about" a murderous dictatorship in Congo. As far as I can tell, "life and a half" refers both to people who die but still live on in some way as well as people who are both alive and dead. People come and go and get all mixed up with each other in this satiric novel, which is both totally fantastical in terms of actual events and people, but realistic in terms of the horror of brutal, corrupt dictatorships: time periods stretch out and are contracted, lots of impossible things (mostly bad) happen, the human body carries out largely unimaginable functions. Sony Labou Tansi's language is dense and confusing, vivid and shocking all at the same time. The translator (from the French) notes in her introduction that "language itself becomes a field of battle . . . this presents a challenge to the translator." I can't say I enjoyed this book, but I'm glad I read it, especially since it is "regarded as one of the 100 best books on Africa" (at least according to the blurb on the back of my edition).

I haven't vanished off the face of the earth, but Real Life is keeping me very busy these days, and I've had limited reading time. I hope to resurface soon.

Hope it's busy in a good way. I too have been kept away from LT and reading by RL. I'm hoping to get caught up on reviews soon, but the pile seems to stay constant: write one, read one, but with three others in between. Sigh

>191 rebeccanyc:: I've seen your posts on other threads, so I know that you've been around. Any idea what you'll likely read next?

Lisa, all good, just very busy and a little exhausted.

Darryl, I'm still reading Gulag and The Eichmann Trial. I am hoping to read Five Bells soon; I am eager to continue my reading of Platonov with The Foundation Pit and to read Citizens by Simon Schama about the French Revolution and A Savage War of Peace, I need to find some war/conflict fiction for the Reading Globally theme read, I want to read more Vargas Llosa, Carpentier, and Saramago, and I want to broaden my global reading -- and I guess I need to find some lighter reading too! But my time for reading probably won't up until at least June. So many books, so little time!

>194 rebeccanyc: a new Jennifer Haigh coming...

So tempting . . .and I forgot to say I saw the new Linda Grant in a bookstore the other day . . .

As to posting today, just taking a quick break, but no time to do more than drop by and, alas, not enough concentrated time to read.

Oh please no! I haven't read my first Jennifer Haigh, or my second Linda Grant. I can't keep up with you people.

36. The Eichmann Trial by Deborah Lipstadt

It is now 50 years since the Eichmann trial (and nearly 35 since I read the famous, contemporary, and controversial Eichmann in Jerusalem by Hannah Arendt, the work for which she coined the phrase "the banality of evil"). In this short book, Lipstadt, an historian, revisits the trial, its impact, and its implications from the perspective of half a century.

Unlike the Nuremberg trials, which were held in defeated Germany, were run by the victors, and took place in the exhausted and devastated aftermath of World War II, the trial of Eichmann took place in a country that didn't exist at the time of the Holocaust, was run by the victims, and riveted the world. Lipstadt is excellent at setting the stage (international views of Israel, internal politics, the tentative Israeli relationship with Germany) and analyzing some of the legal issues (the "kidnapping" of Eichmann from Argentina, the right -- and fairness -- of Israel holding the trial, the varying goals of Ben-Gurion, the prosecutor, and the judges, and the scope of the crimes to charge Eichmann with). One of her major themes is the importance (and the controversy) of victims themselves testifying, not necessarily the direct victims of Eichmann, but survivors of the Holocaust as a whole. She also stresses the efforts by the prosecutor not only to avoid blaming the victims for not resisting or even for "collaborating," but to demonstrate the state of terror, horror, and chaos European Jews found themselves in. The trial showed the world what the Nazis really did, in a very personal way that had not previously been presented.*

The heart of the book is the trial itself, its dramas, and its ups and downs, as well as the characters of the key players. Lipstadt was given access to a sealed memoir Eichmann wrote in jail before he was hanged, and is able to show that he was indeed an anti-Semite and that he played a key role in orchestrating rounding Jews up and shipping them to death camps, even if he wasn't the architect of the final solution as prosecutors claimed. She then goes on to analyze Arendt's work, in a both critical and even-handed way, and to discuss the continuing impact of the trial even today.

She concludes with a meeting at Yad Vashem, the Israeli memorial to and research institute on the Holocaust, between young survivors of the Rwandan genocide and then quite elderly French-speaking Holocaust survivors. The Rwandans, too, want to tell their tales so that the "generations who were not there remember." This is a fascinating and thought-provoking book.

*It can be, and has been, argued, notably in Bloodlands by Timothy Snyder that even the testimony of survivors is inadequate to show what the Nazis really did, because the vast majority of their victims not only were dead but also died in territory captured by the Soviet Union and thus inaccessible for years to Western historians.

37. A Drop of the Hard Stuff by Lawrence Block

I have long been a fan of Lawrence Block's Matthew Scudder series, partly because I love the characters and the realistic New York feel, so I was delighted to see a new book in a series I thought was complete. In this book, Block goes back to Scudder's early years as a private investigator, to the time when he was nearing the end of his first year of sobriety. In fact, this is more a novel about Scudder's personal challenges than it is a detective novel, although there are enough twists and turns and interesting characters to keep the reader puzzling. It provides insight into the thoughts and fears of someone struggling to stay sober and build a new life. I enjoyed it, but I would not recommend this the book for someone new to the series to start with.

Rebecca, thank you for that review of The Eichmann Trial. This book is sort of off topic for me right now, but it sounds like a book I should read sometime.

I remember watching the Eichmann trial (or parts of it) on television when I was in Junior High School. It was one of the socially defining moments of my life, certainly because at about the same time I first read The Diary of Anne Frank. It definitely made the Holocaust absolutely real.

38. The Sojourn by Andrew Krivak

I have mixed feelings about this coming of age/war story. Yes, it is beautifully written, moving, and hard to put down. I was quickly drawn into the story, starting with a brief prelude about a horrific event in a Colorado mining town in 1899 that led to a Slav immigrant father taking his infant son back to his home town in the Carpathian Mountains of what was then the Austro-Hungarian empire; the rest of the book is the tale, told in old age by that infant son, of his childhood and young manhood, including his army service in the first world war, back in the old country. The boy's relationship with his father and adopted brother, the sense of place and time, especially up in the mountains sheepherding or working as a sniper, and the meditations on life and death are lovely. The sense of the devastation of war, and the horrible horrible waste of life, is palpable.

But . . . as the story developed I had a problem, and that was that the language is so beautiful, and the writing so good, and the choice of words occasionally so arcane that I just couldn't believe that someone who had been an uneducated young shepherd/soldier could be telling the tale, even though he was in his 70s and living in Pennsylvania, and even though his father had taught him English by reading Thoreau and Melville. I just couldn't mesh the writing with the character. Another slight problem was the incredible geographic detail; it felt a little bit as though it came out of a book (and, indeed, Krivak cites several sources in his acknowledgments).

My sense is that Krivak took a family story and wove this novel out of it. He is an excellent writer, and I can see why he wanted to write in the first person, but the book didn't completely work for me.

39. Fatale by Jean-Patrick Manchette

I wouldn't have bought this book if it weren't an NYRB, and I wouldn't have finished it if it hadn't been only 91 pages, but even though it isn't really my kind of book, I'm glad I read it. A broad noir-ish satire, it tells the tale of Aimée (as she calls herself for much of the novella), a woman who has transformed herself from an abused wife into a proud, professional killer after discovering how easy it was to get away with murdering her husband. She takes her work seriously, training physically and mentally and learning multiple ways to kill. The novella focuses on her efforts to create a situation in which the leading citizens of the town are willing to pay for her services, leading to a violent and, in some respects, unbelievable conclusion (however, I don't think we're supposed to take the story literally, anyway). I enjoyed the way the author skewered the pretensions of many of the characters, and I mostly enjoyed the character of Aimée, as well as that of the slightly derange Baron Jules, but the ending was a little too violent and chaotic for me.

I think I need that book.

Thanks,

Robert

I need it too. I'll just have to keep it away from my wife. She might get ideas on how to keep me from buying so many books.

Great review of The History of the Siege of Lisbon back at #172. I've wanted to read that book for years, and it's been on Mnt TBR for too long, but in between I read Blindness, which really turned me off. Your comments have restored my faith in Saramago.

#184 Interested to hear about The History of the Siege of Lisbon. I liked The Double very much.

The Double is another one I buried in the deep caves of Mnt TBR after reading Blindness. I'll pull it out too. Thanks.

#205, Very funny, Steven, but despite the charisma of the sexy professional killer, the book really satirizes the corruption and self-absorption of the leading citizens of the town.

#206 Thanks, Joyce, I am looking forward to reading more Saramago, but you are not the only person who has made me want to skip Blindness. I already own The Stone Raft so that's the one I'll probably read next. Maybe I'll look for The Double too.

40. Faith by Jennifer Haigh

I became a Jennifer Haigh fan when I read her third novel, The Condition, and promptly ordered her two earlier books. It was exciting to see how her writing became more interesting with each book, and I was eager to read her next one.

Alas, I have mixed feelings about this novel I am still impressed by Haigh's writing, her ability to tell both individual and family/intergenerational stories, and her psychological insight. But several things about this book didn't work well for me.

First, I think it's very difficult to write a good novel about a topical issue, and this is a novel about the priest child molestation scandals in Boston and how they affect the family of a priest who is accused. At times, Haigh provides background in a way that seems more journalistic than novelistic; her research, for example on the priest training process, shows. Also, some aspects of the characters seemed designed to further the plot in a way that seemed too obvious: when the father in the story, now suffering either from Alzheimers or from alcoholic brain deterioration, makes a slip that reveals a secret, I couldn't help thinking that Haigh decided he should be mentally confused so he could do this.

Second, I had a problem with the way the novel was told in the first person by the somewhat estranged daughter, Sheila. Some of it is clearly what she found out as she returned to the Boston area to support her brother, the accused priest, and began to uncover family secrets. Some of it could conceivably be "as told to" her. But some of it is just plain stuff she couldn't have known -- in fact, she begins the novel with a story that she says her mother never talked about. I think Haigh tried something challenging here -- to mix together what Sheila knew/found out with what she made up -- but it didn't quite work for me.

All this said, I enjoyed the book on many levels, including the portrait of a varyingly observant Irish-Catholic Boston family and the look inside the church hierarchy, as well as the individual characterization and the writing. I still am eager to read Haigh's further work, even if this novel didn't excite me as much as The Condition.

Rebecca - Thanks for your thoughts on Faith (can't find touchstone???) and Jennifer Haigh. I have two of her books - Baker Towers and Mrs. Kimble - but have yet to read either...

Katie, no touchstone for yet Faith (I inserted the url for the book page to create the link). Baker Towers, her second book, is better than Mrs. Kimble (her first), and The Condition, as I mentioned, is better than both of them.

I'm happy to hear you liked The Condition so much. I just picked that up at the library book shop for $2.

I have a copy of The Condition, too. I've been wanting to read something by Jennifer Haigh, so I'm glad that you found it to be a good exemplar of her writing.

I will have to find a copy of Fatale. Just because.

202: Coming-of-age and beautiful writing--that's enough for me. Adding The Sojourn to my wish list. I'll have write a note about the "arcane" language and your rec, so I can come back and talk about that. In the meantime, I wondering if the book is a translation? Or maybe the author was purposely using the language of the time. When I read books written even as recently as the fifties, I'm struck by how many words present in those books aren't used in more current literature.

#214, Bonnie, No, not a translation, and didn't seem like it was language typical of the time; just odd words, and especially odd for a supposedly uneducated character.

I have started a new thread. Please come over and visit.