Cariola's 2012 Reading Log

The Cholmondeley Ladies, ca. 1600-1610. Artist Unknown (British School).




January
Death and Summer by William Trevor
Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels
Mary Boleyn: The Mistress of Kings by Alison Weir
Girl Meets Boy: The Myth of Iphis by Ali Smith
Titus Andronicus by William Shakespeare
A Doll House by Henrik Ibsen

February
The Edwardians by Vita Sackville-West
The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams
Richard III by William Shakespeare
Zeitoun by Dave Eggers
The English American by Alison Larkin
Iago by David Snodin
The Flight of Gemma Hardy by Margot Livesey
The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare
Sister Queens: The Tragic, Noble Lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana of Castile by Julia Fox

March
The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare
The Awakening by Kate Chopin
Five Bells by Gail Jones
The Last Chronicle of Barset by Anthony Trollope
Bossypants by Tina Fey
A Town Like Alice by Nevil Shute

April
The Solitary House by Lynn Shepherd
Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare
My Life in Pieces by Simon Callow
Macbeth by William Shakespeare
Last Man in Tower by Aravind Adiga
The Tempest by William Shakespeare

May
Macbeth: A Novel by A. J. Hartley and David Hewson
I, Iago by Nicole Galland
No Tomorrow by Vivant Denon
The End of the Affair by Graham Greene
Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel
Time After Time by Molly Keane

June
Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel
Sarah Thornhill by Kate Grenville
Dancing with Mr. Darcy, edited by Sarah Waters
Sacre Bleu by Christopher Moore
The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes
Hark! A Vagrant by Kate Beaton
Effie: The Passionate Lives of Effie Gray, John Ruskin, and John Everett Millais by Suzanne Fagence Cooper
The Queen's Vow: A Novel of Isabella of Castile by C. W. Gortner
Painter of Silence by Georgina Harding
Imagined Lives: Portraits of Unknown People by John Banville, Tracy Chevalier, Julian Fellowes, Alexander McCall SMith, Terry Pratchett, Sarah Singleton, Joanne Trollope, and Minette Walters

July
The Lemon Table by Julian Barnes
The Light Between Oceans by M. L. Stedman
Seducers in Ecuador and The Heir by Vita Sackville-West
March by Geraldine Brooks
Good Evening, Mrs. Craven by Mollie Panter-Downes
The Mistress of Nothing by Kate Pullinger
The House on Fortune Street by Margot Livesey
The Chaperone by Laura Moriarty

August
Last Year's Jesus by Ellen Slezak
Yes, Chef by Marcus Samuelsson
Nocturnes: Five Stories of Music and Nightfall by Kazuo Ishiguro
Venetia by Georgette Heyer
Wild Dogs by Helen Humphreys
The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce
The Giant O'Brien by Hilary Mantel

September
The Man of Property by John Galsworthy
In Chancery by John Galsworthy
No Bed for Bacon by Caryl Brahms and S. J. Simon
Titus Andronicus by William Shakespeare (reread)
NW by Zadie Smith
Richard III by William Shakespeare (reread)
I Cannot Tell a Lie, Exactly by Mary Ladd Gavell
To Let by John Galsworthy
The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare (reread)

October
Zeitoun by Dave Eggers (reread)
The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare (reread)
Joseph Anton by Salman Rushdie

November
The Stranger's Child by Alan Hollinghurst
Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare
The White Monkey by John Galsworthy
Othello by William Shakespeare
The Edge of the Earth by Christina Schwarz
The Finishing School by Muriel Spark
A Possible Life by Sebastian Faulks

December?
The Tempest by William Shakespeare
The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton
Why Can't I Change? How to Conquer Your Self-Destructive Patterns by Shirley Shirley Impellizzeri
The Secret Life of William Shakespeare by Jude Morgan
Learning to Talk by Hilary Mantel

Welcome back!

Glad to see you back with us again, Deborah! I am looking forward to whatever painting you put up top.

Happy New Year!

HAPPY NEW YEAR, dear Deborah!
I"m bringing a star and a hope that 2012 bests 2011 in wonderful books and conversation!

Hi Deborah! Happy New Year and may you have many great reads ahead of you!

Happy New Year, Deborah! I'm eager to see what your reading plans are for 2012. Here's to a better year for the Booker Prize!

Happy New Year, Deborah! Wishing you all the best in 2012!

Happy New Year, Deborah! Every good wish and blessings for 2012. Love the Cholmondeley ladies up top!

1. Death in Summer by William Trevor

It has been a bad summer for Thaddeus Davenant. His wife--who he married for her money, never loved, but had come to appreciate for her kindness--has been killed in a road accident. Left alone with an infant daughter, Thaddeus advertises for a nanny, but when none of the respondents seem to be acceptable, his mother-in-law moves in to care for little Georgina. But one applicant, Pettie, surprised that she didn't get the job, becomes obsessed with the much older Thaddeus, his sad story, and his privileged lifestyle.

Although they come from two different worlds, Thaddeus and Pettie have one thing in common: an inability to love, at least in a normal way. Thaddeus's upper class parents were distant and critical while Pettie, raised in an orphanage, only knew the kind of love extended by a "Sunday uncle." Surprised by his own feelings for his new daughter, Thaddeus begins to open his heart and to feel for others, including Pettie and a former mistress who calls him to her deathbed. Pettie's obsession, however, takes them all into darker, more dangerous territory.

Trevor is a master at depicting the broad divide between the upper and lower classes as well as the depths of the human heart and the psychological effects of a loveless childhood. Part of his mastery is that he is able to unfold all this subtly, without whacking his readers over the head with a purpose and a moral. While Death in Summer may not be Trevor's best novel, it is well worth reading.

4 out of 5 stars.

I will give that one by Trevor a shot. I have only read 3 of his books, loved one of them, liked another and the third (Cheating at Canasta, a collection of short stories) I did not care for overmuch. Thanks for the recommendation, Deborah.

Great review, Deborah. You've certainly made me curious about this book, and I think I'll add this to my obese wish list.

10> I didn't care much for the first of his books that I read, Love and Summer, but I did enjoy The Story of Lucy Gault. This one falls in between, leaning towards the positive. I do like his subdued style and the way he gives insight into his characters.

11> Hope you enjoy it when you get around to it!

2. Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels

This is the story of a boy who survived the Holocaust and was raised by his Greek geologist rescuer, first on a small Greek island, then in Canada. The focus is not so much on trauma as on how it changes one's emotional life. Jakob Beer is haunted by his parents' murder, by not knowing what became of his beloved sister, and by months spent in hiding. As a result, he finds it nearly impossible to love; for example, his son feels his father takes more joy in a stone than his own child.

I'm somewhat less impressed by this book than were those who recommended it. I found the multitude of Greek words the author inserted--without definition--irritating, as if she was excluding me from fully understanding the novel. Ditto for a lot of geological jargon. Several readers mentioned that Michaels was first a poet and that the language here is therefore "poetic," but I found that at times the "poetic" bordered on flowery and/or incomprehensible. So much energy was being put into finding the perfect image or phrase that the story itself sometimes suffered. What she does convey well is a sense of loss and distrust, the lingering effects of trauma that can even be passed down to the next generation.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

>13 Cariola:: I couldn't get into this one when I read it 3 years ago. I just re-read my very short review, which said in part "The language was, indeed, lovely. Jakob's story in particular was well told and poignant in parts. But that wasn't enough for me. By and large, I failed to identify with the characters, and didn't care much about the outcome of their lives and relationships."

I tend to agree with you, Laura. It took me a long time to connect with Jakob, and about the time I did, she switched to his son as narrator.

#13 I started that book some years ago, and never finished it. I thought it was just me, glad to hear others have had issues with it to.

Enjoyed both of these reviews, Deborah.

16> I've been surprised that so many people have posted on my various threads that they felt the same way, since nearly all the reviews on LT are raves, and it was beloved by the critics. I thought it was just ME!

Oh dear. Oh dear. You make me wish I had spent my PBS credit on some other Orange. Oh well.

19> It wasn't awful--more disappointing. Maybe you will be one of the readers who love the book; a lot do!

Hi, Deborah! Happy New Year! Just found your thread and stopped in to see what you are up to. I read one Trevor a number of years ago (Felicia's Journey) which I remember thinking highly of, but I've not gotten around to reading anything else by him, though I always thought I'd like to. Perhaps Death in Summer...?

21> I really need to read Felicia's Journey, which is probably Trevor's best known novel. One of the things I like about his books is that they are so character driven, and his characters are both unique and yet identifiable.

3. Mary Boleyn: Mistress of Kings by Alison Weir

In a word: DULL. When a 400-page biography starts out by telling you that very little factual information is known about its subject, I guess you should know what to expect: a lot of repetition (to the point of irritation), endless debunking of what others have stated as fact, and vague speculations about what "may have" happened, been thought, or been felt. The result was a real bore. The writing is flat and, again, repetitive, not only in details but in phrasing, and the chronology is fractured. There is so little focus as she jumps between persons peripherally related to May's story that at times I even forgot that I was supposedly reading a biography of Mary Boleyn. I kept thinking that Weir was finally running out of Tudor-era women to write about.

A number of readers have defended Weir's tedious style, claiming that it is simply because the book is not fiction but rather "academic." As an academic specializing in Tudor England, I can attest to the fact that an academic book can indeed be an exciting read--as have been several of Weir's previous biographies.

I'm giving the book 1.5 stars on the basis of her research but was sorely tempted to downgrade the score to only one. After reading the other reviews posted here, I'm surprised that so many readers, after making many valid criticisms of the book or stating outright that it was boring, still gave it three or four stars, resulting in an inflated overall rating of 3.69. Since most had received LTER copies, perhaps they feared that giving the book a score below three would affect their chances of getting future ARCs?

1.5 out of 5 stars.

4. Girl Meets Boy by Ali Smith

Sisters Imogen and Anthea both work for Pure, a Scottish bottled water corporation. While Imogen anxiously competes with her male co-workers on the creative team, Anthea would prefer to be anywhere else. Leaving work early one day, Anthea encounters the most beautiful boy she has ever seen . . . writing socially conscious graffiti on Pure property. Only it isn't a boy. And Anthea is smitten.

Told in alternating voices, Girl Meets Boy details Anthea falling in love and finding herself while Imogen dithers over learning that her sister is "one of them" and fears that others at Pure will find out. In the end, Imogen, too, learns something about herself and the importance of staying true to that self.

Smith is having so much fun retelling the myth of Iphis that she manages to sneak in some feminisit and anti-corporate diatribe without it feeling overly heavy-handed. I've had mixed reactions to her 'experimental' style (loved it in There but for the and The Accidental, found it more overbearing in Hotel World and elsewhere). Here, where she is dealing with her characters' inner thoughts and immediate reactions, it works much better. Overall, a fast and fairly enjoyable read.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

____________________

5. Titus Andronicus by William Shakespeare.
6. A Doll House by Henrik Ibsen

>23 Cariola:: OUCH! hehe

7. The Edwardians by Vita Sackville-West

If you're looking for some insights into aristocratic Edwardian society, this is the book for you. Sebastian, a young duke and owner of a familial estate named Chevron, seems unhappy with his lot in life. Ah, the exhausting boredom of duty! Sebastian seems to want something more than the salons, fox hunts, coming-out balls and nights at the opera can offer--but he isn't really sure what that something more is. He begins to search for it through a series of affairs, telling us later that only four of the women he conquered ever really changed him in any way. The first, the renowned but much older beauty Lady Roehampton, taught him that people of his class in society will always put their position before everything else, even love. The second, a married doctor's wife who first encouraged but then spurned his advances, proved top him that middle class women had the same dull concerns with position. The third, the groundskeeper's daughter, was a lovely girl, but a girl who sucked her teeth could never be accepted by his peers. The fourth, a model, attracted him for her bohemian lifestyle, but in the end, she found Sebastian far too dull. Before long, Sebastian realizes that he has settled into exactly the kind of routine that the adventurer Angetil had predicted and warned him about. And he is trapped, with no means of escape.

Sackville-West, who certainly knew the ins and outs of high society, delivers a subtle but scathing critique of her own kind. While I can't say that I was blown away by The Edwardians, it was an interesting portrait of the duller side of the aristocracy, with even a little sympathy for their lot thrown in.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

Reread for classes I'm teaching:

8. The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams
9. Richard III by William Shakespeare
10. Zeitoun by Dave Eggers

Like you, not blown away, but I did enjoy The Edwardians.

>27 Cariola:: That's quite the line-up there! You may need a visit to a spa for some TLC after that.

28> And The Awakening is just around the corner!

#27 Teaching Titus - that'll be fun!

11. The English American by Alison Larkin

I've had this book in my audio library for at least five years. I'm not sure why I put off listening to it for so long . . . maybe because it sounded a bit chick lit-ish, or maybe because of the rather squeaky chick lit-ish voice of the reader, the author, Alison Larkin. So was it chick lit? Yes--and no. Pippa Dunn is a 28-year old single woman looking for love and looking for herself. It's her inability ot commit that leads Pippa, an adoptee, in search of her birth parents: she has abandoned a series of good relationships when she fears that her partner will reject her.

Pippa has know since she was 10 that she was adopted but knows nothing about her birth parents. The novel takes us through her journey: the complicated communications with the adoption agency, which is bound by law to withhold information; the arrival of a letter from her birth mother, written as she was being given up for adoption; the negotiations of an attorney who finally puts her in touch with her birth mother--an American! Eventually, Pippa moves to America to learn more about herself and her parents--and she gets more than she ever expected. In the course of her journey, she begins to question her own identity but ultimately finds herself.

This isn't the type of book I would normally read, but I did enjoy it. It's nice to take a break from more serious books every now and then.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

Hi Deborah, I'm making a late appearance, but wanted to say that I was pleasantly surprised to see your review of The Edwardians show up on the Hot Reviews column, as I had just finished reading (actually listening to) it myself. I resisted reading your review right away as didn't want to end up repeating what you'd said, but really enjoyed it after once I did get to it. I too didn't find it exactly gripping, but it was a good read all the same. Narrated by Carole Boyd, it was rather excellent!

12. Iago by David Snodin

Although I'm a Shakespearean, I'm not the stuffy kind who puts the bard on pedestal and thinks that taking any liberties with the plays is sacrilege. I enjoy spinoffs and productions that set the plays in unusual times or places. Heck, I even directed a version of Hamlet set in a 1990s North Sea oil conglomerate. So I was willing to play along with Snodin's extension of Othello and take it on its own terms. But I was sorely disappointed. On the syle: Maybe Snodin was trying to recreate in prose the feeling of an ornate 15th-century Venice. If so, it didn't work. The writing was clunky, stiff, and convoluted, and it was one of the main reasons that this books rambled on irritatingly for at least 200 hundred pages more than was necessary. I simply got bored with being bombarded by details that were neither necessary nor, in many cases, interesting. Every Shakespearean character here seemed to have twenty-five relatives, and we were dragged through descriptions of and exposition for each one of them, however insignificant. I got the feeling that instead of writing the story that needed to be told, the author kept repeating a mantra to himself while writing: "Epic--I'm writing an epic." The style was also the reason that the main characters, including Iago, never got off the page or engaged the reader's interest.

The initial premise is good: discovering what turned Iago into a villain. But again, we're given far too little to come to any valid conclusions. Snodin gets bogged down in writing a combination of crime story, coming of age story, historical novel, and thriller. It's all action--too much action--at the expense of any real insights or psychological depth. Just not my cup of tea, I'm afraid, and it took quite an effort to force myself to finish it.

1.5 stars out of 5.

Ugh! Well, that's one book that won't be getting onto the old TBR list. Good review, and thanks for the warning!

13. The Flight of Gemma Hardy by Margot Livesey

(If you've never read Jane Eyre and might want to some day, you should probably skip this review as it may have some plot spoilers.)

I really wanted to like this book. But while I admire Livesey's style, I was quite disappointed in the overall story. The novel's publishers describe it as a "modern-day Jane Eyre," and therein, for me, lies the problem. I rather enjoy spinoffs or re-visions of classic novels if the writer is both true to the feel of the original and creates something believably new. Here, however, Livesey sticks too close to Bronte. Instead of becoming engrossed in the novel, I felt like I was ticking off a series of similarities between the two. Gemma has a hateful aunt and three hateful cousins (tick). Gemma is blamed for a fight her cousin started and gets locked into "the sewing room" (tick) where she has some kind of cryptic vision that sets her into hysterics (tick). There's a kindly servant who tries to comfort Gemma (tick). The doctor recommends that Gemma be sent to boarding school as a "working student" (tick) where she makes friends with a sickly girl who later dies in Gemma's arms (tick). The cruel owner/headmistress extends a little kindness (tick) when she finally leaves for a new job as governess (tick) to an eight-year old girl (tick) in a remote, gloomy location (tick). She befriends the housekeeper, who seems to keep some secrets about the mysterious owner, Mr. Sinclair (tick). Her brother, a taciturn and creepy farmer, keeps hinting that he knows some secrets and that something untoward happened to the love of his life, little Nell's mother (tick--he's the Grace Poole character). Mr. Sinclair, a rather brooding, older man, appears to have the hots for a lovely socialite named Coco (tick), but he discovers an affinity with Gemma (tick) which leads to a proposal (tick). When his big secret (which isn't as awful as Mr. Rochester's) is revealed at the church on their wedding day (tick), Gemma flees (tick). She collapses by the side of the road in a strange town but is rescued by a scholarly young man (tick) who takes her to his sister's home where she a and her girlfriend nurse her back to health (tick). The brother later assumes that Gemma has accepted his proposal; he doesn't love her but figures they can study Latin together (tick).

OK, STOP IT ALREADY!!!! I'm sure you get the picture. In the final section, Livesey finally starts to write a story of her own. But as others have pointed out, Gemma becomes extremely unlikeable at this point. She decides to seek out any living relatives of her dead parents--in Iceland, her father's home country, the place where they lived as a family for a few short years. (Let me interject here that when Andrew asked, "Would you go to Iceland with me as my wife?", Gemma was so eager to get there that she said yes without hearing the last three words . . . ) Since she won't, after stringing him and everyone else along for weeks, marry Andrew (she's still in love with Mr. Sinclair, who really seemed to me to have no personality at all), how will she get to Iceland? Easy: she steals from the kindly grandmother who has hired her to help watch their grandson while she visits her hospitalized and obviously dying husband! Oh, but Gemma leaves a note of apology in the drawer where the money had been, promising to pay it back when she can. Nice girl. And of course, Iceland is perfect. Everybody knows everybody, and everybody loves everybody else. So it doesn't take long for Gemma, now called Fjola, to find her aunt and cousin. As she says goodbye to Iceland, she hears a voice calling to her over the ocean. Of course, it is Mr. Sinclair (tick). And here we go again.

I did like Livesey's writing style and will probably look for more of her novels. But this one, as you can see, was a real disappointment.

2.5 out of 5 stars.

14. The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare (reread)

5 out of 5 stars.

15. Sister Queens: The Tragic, Noble Lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana of Castile by Julia Fox

Julia Fox came up with a fascinating idea in writing a dual biography of the most renowned of Ferdinand and Isabella’s daughters: Katherine of Aragon, Henry VIII’s beleaguered queen, and Juana of Castile. The last work of non-fiction that I read (Alison Weir’s bio of Mary Boleyn) was tediously repetitious and digressive, a problem I’ve found with many historical biographies. Fox, however, has avoided that pitfall, creating an engaging and highly readable narrative.

Katherine and Juana have been reduced over time almost to caricatures, Katherine as the stubbornly Catholic wife who refused to let Henry go, and Juana as a wife so obsessed with her husband that his affairs and early death drove her to madness. But Fox shows that there was much more to each woman, and that, to a great extent, the restrictions of gender and the machinations of the men around them caused their downfalls. She details Katherine’s role as an ambassador concerned with the interests of both Spain and England, as well as her diplomacy and finesse in dealing with Henry. Fox does an admirable job of presenting fairly the events with which most readers will be familiar: her penurious widowhood following the death of Prince Arthur; the dispensation to marry Henry; the many miscarriages, stillbirths, and infant deaths; her displacement by Anne Boleyn. In the case of Juana, Fox’s research demonstrates that existing letters and reports from those permitted to see her following her confinement for madness demonstrate that she behaved sanely and graciously. Fox contends that her husband and father schemed to keep her from exercising sovereignty over Castile, Ferdinand in particular unwilling to give up what he had jointly ruled with Isabella after she died and left the crown to Juana, her eldest daughter.

Through no fault of the author’s, the space devoted to the sisters is not balanced 50/50, simply because there is less documentation of Juana’s life. Near the end, Fox poses a fascinating question: What would have happened if the sisters’ roles had been reversed—if Katherine, so good at diplomacy, had been Queen of Castile, and if Juana, who produced six children (two emperors and four queens) had been Henry’s wife?

4 out of 5 stars.

37> If you liked Sister Queens, you should give Four Queens by Nancy Goldstone a try (in between all your other reading). It's about the four daughters of Ramon Berenguer IV, Count of Provence, who all married various kings in 13th century Europe.

38> Thanks--I actually have that book on the shelf.

Off to discover whether I can get Sister Queens anytime soon even though I know that if it were sitting right in front of me I still wouldn't read it anytime soon. Thanks for steering me away from some and toward this one, Deborah! (And, of course, I haven't even glanced at Fugitive Pieces yet.)

40> I believe there's also a just-released work of fiction with the same title, so be sure you've got the right author.

I've added your recent read to the TBR pile. I can always count on a Tudor history recommendation when visiting here.

Deborah, I have just found your thread and very much enjoyed your reviews. I was particularly interested in your thoughts on The Flight of Gemma Hardy, as I will be attending a talk by Livesey in a few weeks, but have had doubts about whether to read the book. I'll wait to see if she changes my mind!

43> From what I've read, supposedly some of Gemma's early experiences mirror Livesey's life. It might be interesting to ask her if that influenced how closely she stuck to Jane Eyre, perhaps as a way of masking some of the more unpleasant things. You might like the book better than I did, as others have.

Rereads for classes I'm teaching:

16. The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare

17. The Awakening by Kate Chopin

18. Five Bells by Gail Jones

What a lovely novel! I read Sorry by Gail Jones several years ago, and her writing has gotten even better. This one is even more character driven, so if you're looking for big action, best look elsewhere. The novel focuses on four people, all a bit haunted, sad, and lonely in their own way, yet all but one also hopeful. Catherine can't seem to move past the death of her much-beloved brother. Ellie can't move past her first lover, James, and when they plan to meet again, her hopes are rekindled. But James is running from his own past and a tragic secret. Pei Xing was imprisoned and tortured during China's Cultural Revolution. While she is trying to shape a new life in Australia, she does so mainly be embracing the ghosts of her past.

Jones takes us inside each of these characters, each of them unique yet identifiable, and lets us feel their pain, their joy, their fear, their hope. Her style is perfectly suited to her introverted structure and to each of her characters. It's just lovely, spare, poetic, original. Here, for example, is Pei Xing remembering her father, a translator who had brought Doctor Zhivago to Chinese readers:

"Pei Jing's father, always a thin man, was becoming even thinner, living, it seemed, only on cigarettes, so that when the Cultural Revolution began and the Red Guards came to take him away, he was already half gone. As someone educated abroad and used to negotiating meanings in English and Russian, he was bound to be considered a class traitor and a running dog of imperialists. The weighty terms written in large letters on banners outside their house, the line on the door about the Four Olds, all seemed to bear no relation to her harried parents, but more especially to her father, whose skin was like parchment and who was already translating himself into another world when the Revolution began. He was already thinning in Chinese style, like lines of brushstrokes, a narrow falling vertical, and right to left."

This is a gentle but very moving novel, one I highly recommend.

4.5 out of 5 stars.

Oh, that sounds like a winner. I loved Sorry.

19. The Last Chronicle of Barset by Anthony Trollope

Trollope has really mastered the art of creating irritating characters in this last volume of 'The Barchester Chronicles'--which doesn't make it any less enjoyable. Some are familiar to readers of the earlier novels. There's Mrs. Proudie, for example, the bishop's wife, who seems to think that SHE is the bishop, yammering on about "the souls of the people" while she bullies her husband and everybody else. The namby-pamby bishop is quite irritating on his own accord: he never silences or reprimands his wife until near the end, and then it takes the form of whining and blaming. The focal figure of the novel, the reverend Mr. Crawley . . . well, I wanted to whack him over the head with a 2x4! I understand his forgetfulness and his adherence to principles, but refusing to hire a lawyer (even taking on a free one) when you've been charged with a crime, thus putting your family on the brink of total destitution and disgrace, is unforgiveable, not to mention just plain stupid. Then there's Lily Dale, abandoned in an earlier installment by her lover in favor of a wealthier woman. Devoted not only to him but to her role as martyr, she refuses the love of a good man, refuses to marry the now-widowed lover, and takes a vow reflected in her diary: "Lily Dale: Old Maid."

By now, you're probably wondering why I didn't hate this novel. Well, while all of these characters are maddening, somehow Trollope also manages to makes their trials and tribulations quite intriguing. And at least one of them gets his or her comeuppance. Trollope weaves in several subplots as well, inlcuding that of Grace Crawley, a young woman as principled as her father who refuses the proposal of the man she loves, reluctant to tie his family to her father's possible shame. And John Eames, who has loved Lily Dale forever. There are plenty of other characters to admire, among them those trying to help the beleaguered Mr. Crawley. (Most memorable is the goodhearted lawyer Mr. Toogood.)

As others have mentioned, the subplot surrounding John Eames's friend, the painter Conrad Darymple, doesn't quite fit. Perhaps it's true that Trollope stuck it in to come up with the number of pages required by his publisher. Nevertheless, The Last Chronicle of Barsetshire is an entertaining and engaging book, a fitting conclusion to Trollope's delightful six-volume chronicles.

4 out of 5 stars

20. Bossypants by Tina Fey.

Neither humor nor memoirs are my usual reading choices. But if you like Tina Fey, you'll probably love Bossypants. It's half memoir, half stand-up routine, which is why it may fare better on audio, read by Ms. Fey herself. As other readers have mentioned, it is a bit chronologically disjointed, as stand-up comedy often is, but I had no trouble following along. Fey regales us with stories of growing up half Greek/half Irish in a small, WASP-ish Pennsylvania town; her college days and first loves (including one she refers to as "Handsome Robert Wuhl," or "HRW"); getting her breaks with Second City, 'Saturday Night Live,' and '30 Rock'; her honeymoon on a cruise ship that catches fire; and the joys and icks of motherhood. She's tactful enough not to bash any of the SNL guest hosts and gives us insights into working with some of them, including Sylvester Stallone and Sarah Palin. Having just finished a massive Trollope novel, this was a fluffy, delicious piece of cake. Recommended for Fey fans; not sure how well it would sit with others.

4 out of 5 stars.

21. A Town Like Alice by Nevil Shute.

Initially, I was totally captivated by this story of Jean Padgett, a young English woman working in Malaya who became a Japanese prisoner of war. The hardships that the women and children endured during their trek to one nonexistent prison camp after another and the alternating kindness and inhumanity of their captors kept me reading (well, listening; this was an audiobook) at a rapid pace. Under such an unlikely circumstances, one wouldn't expect to fall in love, but we do sense that it is happening to Jean when she means a resourceful Australian named Joe Harmon. But the war intervenes . . .

The novel opens with the narrator, a solicitor, tracking down Jean to tell her that she has just come into an inheritance, and it is to Noah that Jean tells her story. After hearing all she endured, he could hardly be more surprised when Jean tells him her plans for the money: to return to Malaya.

I won't spoil the book by telling what happens next, but there are quite a few surprises in store. I have to admit that the last third of the novel--the part that reflects the title--was somewhat less interesting to me. Still, this is one of those books whose title was familiar but about which I knew nothing, and overall, it was worthwhile.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

You read some great books. I've added Five Bells to the tbr list.

Linda, I have another Pre-Raphaelite review to send you (as soon as I can find it in the ever-growing stacks of papers).

22. Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (reread).

>50 Cariola:: I keep seeing this title and wondered what it was about. Good review, Deborah.

23. The Solitary House by Lynn Shepherd.

Well, let me start with three confessions: 1) I don't much care for murder mysteries; 2) I've never read The Woman in White but have seen the dramatized version on DVD; and 3) I don't much care for the work of Charles Dickens. In fact, I'll make another more shocking confession: although I am a literature professor, I've never finished a Dickens novel. I've started several but could never get beyond the first 30-40 pages. So perhaps I am not the ideal reader for The Solitary House. If I had been able to make all the character and plot connections to Bleak House and The Woman in White--which no doubt were very clever, or at least intended to be so--perhaps I would have appreciated this novel more. I'll leave that conclusion to others more qualified than myself. Confessions aside, let me say that this isn't an awful book, just one that I didn't particularly connect with. If you're a mystery buff and a fan of Collins and Dickens, you might love it; check some of the other reviews below.

On the positive side, I rather liked the main character, Charles Maddox, a young detective removed from the police force and now working as a private investigator. He's quiet, kind, intelligent, and a bit melancholic, and he owns (or, rather, is owned by) a cat named Thunder. When he learns that his elderly uncle has begun to suffer bouts of dementia, Charles doesn't hesitate to abandon his bachelor rooms, moving in with old Maddox, a retired crack detective, and promising never to send him to an asylum. You have to admire a man like that. Uncle Maddox is another engaging character; he helps Charles to solve cases in the flashes of brilliance that come between his incoherent rages.

But a lot about the novel frankly confused me, perhaps due to my lack of familiarity with Collins, Dickens, and the mystery genre. The story seemed to have a few too many subplots and aidetracks. "Hester's Narrative," told in three chapters that seemed to be randomly placed, made little sense to me until the overly-speedy wrap-up at the end, and even then, it left me with quite a few questions. (I guess that's OK, since we are left to assume that Hester is insane.) While we finally find out who the murderer is, we're never given a clear motive for his crimes, nor are we told anything about the history that might imply what led him to murder. Also, I found the narrative voice rather grating, mannered but with a mocking air at times that seemed out of character and thus distracted from the story. All these added up to the fact that by the time I was 3/4 into the book, I REALLY wanted to be done with it Just not my cup of tea, overall.

3 out of 5 stars.

Too many shocking confessions so early in my day. I think I'd better go back to bed :)

Just catching up. Sister Queens sounds really good. That period has plenty of drama for an author to work with. I tried reading one of the Alison Weir books bout that period and also found it unaccountably boring, especially after reading Antonia Fraser's far more lively Wives of Henry VIII.

I'm so sorry that Dickens doesn't do it for you, Deborah. *sigh* On the other hand, you have made me itch to get a copy of Five Bells, and I was already aware of The Solitary House but had forgotten about it. No more! Onto the wish list they go with my thanks!

Aw, that's alright about you and Dickens; I'm a classicist and I've always hated Plato. Welcome to the club! :)

24. My Life in Pieces by Simon Callow

My Life in Pieces is not your typical autobiography. It's a compilation of "pieces" written by the actor Simon Callow for various newspapers, books, programs, memorials, etc. Most of them, of course, revolve around Callow's work in the theatre and on film. If his name isn't familiar to you, his face probably will be, from movies if not the stage: he played the Rev. Mr. Beebe in 'A Room with a View,' Schikaneder/Papageno in 'Amadeus,' and Gareth, the gay man who dies of a heart attack at one of the receptions in 'Four Weddings and a Funeral.' He's also well-known for his one-man show on Charles Dickens, which was televised in the UK and is available on DVD here in the US. Callow presents insightful essays on many of the great actors of the twentieth century, most of whom he has acted with, including Laurence Olivier, Ralph Richardson, Alec Guinness, Paul Scofield, Orson Welles, Vanessa Redgrave, Michael Redgrave, Ian McKellan, and more. In addition, he writes about several directors and playwrights, classic 'schools' and 'methods' of acting, and his own views on the status of acting on today's stage.

Callow is a wonderful writer and a great storyteller. He can be funny, charming, reverent, and insightful--sometimes in the same piece. The stories he tells of working in the theatre are delightful, but they also give one an appreciation for the true art of acting. I listened to this book on audio, and with Callow himself as reader, it was a wonderful experience. I've always thought he was a fine, underrated character actor, and my admiration of his work has grown after reading/listening to these 'pieces.'

Recommended for anyone interested theatre arts.

4 out of 5 stars.

25. Macbeth by William Shakespeare (reread).
26. The Tempest by William Shakespeare (reread)

I adore Simon Callow and agree he's underrated.

27. Last Man in Tower by Aravind Adiga

I picked up this book because 1) I enjoyed Adiga's first novel, The White Tiger, and 2) the synopsis reminded me of several other books I've enjoyed that center on the residents of an Indian apartment complex, notably Manil Suri's The Death of Vishnu. At first, the novel seems to fall into a similar category, revealing the various personlities and daily interactions of the diverse residents with a wry humor. But their generally peaceful relationships are disrupted by the offer from a developer who wants to tear down Tower A and Tower B. Initially, most of the residents of Tower A want to accept what seems to be a generous offer; but a few holdouts either suspect the builder's honesty or see no reason to leave the place where they have lived contentedly. The problem is that, under their rules, 100% of the residents must agree to sell. Using first logic, then legal technicalities, then bullying and rumors, then threats, the builder's henchman and the residents persuade all but one man to sign the agreement. At this point, any humor that remains is very dark, indeed.

Adiga seems to be making a comment about the extent of human greed, especially in a cramped former 'third world' city (Mumbai) where prosperity has flourished more rapidly than such values as morality, empathy, justice, and a sense of community can allow. Tower A began to remind me of a colony of rats trapped in a sewer, climbing over one another to reach the only means of escape and resorting to the most primitive enactment of survival of the fittest. It's to Adiga's credit that he creates characters that are, initially, so likable, as this only makes the metamorphoses wrought by greed more despicable. His epilogue shows that, sadly, these changes were more than tranistory--perhaps a reflection on the changes success is bringing to the national character. If there is any light for humanity in the ending, it is in the fact that one character, over the course of what occurs, seems to have found a conscience.

While I wouldn't rate Last Man in Tower as a "must read" book, readers who enjoyed The White Tiger or any of the many other books written in recent years that deal with the changing economic, social, and political landscape of modern India would probably find it worth their time.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

Can't wait for the end of semester so that I can hunker down with some good books!

I'm with you Deborah! It has been a tough semester and I'm ready for it to end.

My reading has slowed down as the semester crunch began, but I've squeezed in a little time to watch the Cornell Lab of Ornithology Heron Cam. Here's one of the newly hatched chicks falling asleep after a dinner of regurgitated fish:



Last exam was yesterday. I have stacks of grading to be done before next Thursday. And I'm close to finishing two books, Macbeth: A Novel and I, Iago. Reviews coming soon!

28. Macbeth: A Novel by A.J. Hartley and David Hewson

There seems to be a run of Shakespearean adaptations in fiction of late. In addition to this one, I recently reviewed Iago by David Snodden for LTER, and I'm just about done with another LTER book, I, Iago by Nicole Galland. Macbeth: A Novel is the collaborative creation of British crime writer A. J. Hartley and David Hewson, a professor of Shakespeare who writes thrillers in his spare time. Although I'm not a reader of either genre, I am a Shakespearean and know the play very well. I wasn't quite sure what to expect of Macbeth: A Novel; after all, no one can improve upon Shakespeare, and many of the adaptations I've read are either laughable or maddening. So I was pleasantly surprised and even enjoyed this one--perhaps particularly because I listened to the audiobook, wonderfully read by Alan Cumming, who for once was free to revel in his glorious Scottish accent.

Hewson and Hartley stick pretty closely to the bare bones of the plot that we are all familiar with, but they take free reign in filling in the "offstage" details. For example, the first third of the book puts readers right in the middle of the civil rebellion and Norse invasion that have been going on as the play opens. We see Macbeth and Banquo fighting in the field; we see Macbeth's capture of the rebel Macdonwald, the blow-by-blow fight to his bloody death preceded by a verbal exchange that prefigures Macbeth's own treacherous acts. Shakespeare, on the contrary, perfunctorily has messengers deliver the news of Macbeth's victories to King Duncan. Back on the home front, the authors give Lady Macbeth a name of her own (Skena). They provide an answer to the oft-asked question, "Where are Lady Macbeth's children?" And they give us plenty of chat between the couple that helps us to understand the powerful forces between them. Interior flashbacks also flesh out the Macbeths' individual biographies, and frequently we're made privy as to what is going on in their minds. Hewson and Hartley imaginatively--but not fantastically--fill in the blanks: why exactly Macbeth turns on Banquo, what happens to Fleance after his father's murder, who the weird sisters are and how they came to be witches, what daily life is like at Macduff's castle before the assassins arrive, and more.

I won't be recommending this book as a classic, or even a must-read. The style is probably better suited to crime novels and thriller: a bit too 'colorful' and 'overwrought,' shall we say, for my taste. Yet it fits just fine with the story of Macbeth. This was a fun piece to breeze through at the end of the semester, which is always a stressful time for me. If the idea of a thriller-crime novel version of Macbeth, read in a charming and authentic Scottish accent by a fine actor, appeals to you, I say, go for it!

3.5 out of 5 stars.

Nice review, Deborah!

ETA: Your link doesn't go to Macbeth: The Novel.

Thanks, Darryl, I fixed it.

29. I, Iago by Nicole Galland

This is the third novelized version of a Shakespearean play that I have read in recent months, and it is by far the best. Two of these have been based on Iago, the villain of Othello. I found David Snoddin's Iago to be a bit of a bore: too many peripheral details and characters and a stilted, overwrought style. Galland's I, Iago hits just the right note for lovers of historical fiction.

Galland begins her study with Iago's imagined youth. As the least favored of three sons, his life is driven by an overbearing, unaffectionate father and a desire to please the same. A boy who loves his books, Iago is taken from school at a young age and placed in training for the Venetian militia. Part of his task is to make up for the embarrassment of his eldest brother, who died of an accidentally self-inflicted wound. In time, he gains a reputation as a fine swordsman and becomes ensign to Othello, an exotic Moor newly appointed as general of the Venetian army. From here the story proceeds to its anticipated end.

Galland fleshes out Iago's history with some of the play's secondary characters, including a boyhbood friendship wtih Roderigo, a spice merchant's son who refuses to give up his suit of Desdemona. While Shakespeare's Iago seems to be trapped in a stale and perhaps loveless marriage to his wife Emilia, Galland creates passion and devotion between the couple. As for Michele Cassio, he becomes even more of a foolish, pompous fop than Shakespeare allows. And Venice itself plays a much more significant role in this novel, its splendor, pettiness, materialism, and competitiveness on full display.

Overall, I, Iago was an enjoyable read, and Galland succeeds in providing enough motivation for the main character's evil deeds that, although he remains a bit of a monster, he is at least a humanized and therefore more recognizable monster.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

Liked your review of I, Iago very much, Deborah. Yes, there does seem to be a spate of Shakespeare knock-offs, doesn't there. And is there anything as ugly as a baby heron, while managing to be cute at the same time?

70> You should see them in action--like a clutch of bobblehead Rod Stewarts!

30. No Tomorrow by Vivant Denon

This slim novel (more of a short story at only 32 pages in length) is an 18th-century French classic. The cover blurbs place it alongside Dangerous Liaisons, and while it does have its witty moments and is definitely in the libertine mode, it lacks the emotional drama of the former. A man recalls an episode of his youth, his seduction by a married woman. Initially, he assumes that the intrigue is in avoiding her aging husband, but as morning breaks, he learns that he has been a decoy, and perhaps a friendly provocation, for her lover, the Marquis.

The New York Review of Books includes both the French version and an English adaptation by fiction writer Lydia Davis, as well as a lengthy but informative introduction by scholar Peter Cook. While there are some wry, witty moments and several instances of fine, subtle writing, overall, I was not too impressed.

3 out of 5 points.

If there is sufficient interest, I plan to host a long weekend "drop in" readathon from 10:00 EDT Friday to 10:00 EDT Monday. Here's the original link. If enough people let me know by Thursday night that they'd like to participate, I'll post a signup thread. Hope you're all up for it!

Here's the link to join the May 11-14 Drop-In Read-a-Thon. Everyone is welcome to stop by for whatever amount of time feels comfortable.

31. The End of the Affair by Graham Greene

This was my initial plunge into Graham Greene, and I have to say that I'm left somewhat unsatisfied. The writing itself is fine enough, and the bitter, cynical, obsessive cast-off lover, Bendrix, well drawn. But I found much of the story forced, unbelievable, as if the concept Greene wanted to get across overwhelmed the plot: lust begets love begets jealousy begets hatred begets faith.

Much of the novel falls under the "if there's a God" speculation. Sarah prays for God, if there is one, to spare Bendrix from a bombing and promises to give up her lover if God grants her wish. Bendrix wonders, if there's a God, why does he take Sarah away, and later, he wants to believe that there is a God so that he can hate him for taking Sarah away.

Sarah seemed a cypher throughout, both to Bendrix and to the reader. I suppose Greene wanted us to be surprised along with Bendrix at what he later learns about her, but she seemed a rather vapid character to have inspired such raging emotions. The friendship that develops between Bendrix and Henry is certainly an odd one, but Henry, being the most honest (and perhaps simple) character in the novel, is also the most easily understood and most empathetic.

I listened to the book on audio, finely read by Colin Firth. Overall, however, I was underwhelmed by The End of the Affair. I'll probably give Greene another try, but not for awhile. He seems to be one of those writers whose work is firmly rooted in an era--not one in which I have a particular interest.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

Colin Firth reads audiobooks?! This is *excellent* news!

I was put off reading any Graham Greene after listening to a BBC podcast in which he was described as a misogynist. By a man, even.

Agree about Colin Firth!

Ummm, Deborah, for a teaching woman you're still doing a LOT of extracurricular reading. I own but have not read Dorothy Dunnett's take on Macbeth, King Hereafter. Have you read it? Should I?

78> I've never read anything by Dorothy Dunnett, but I've read a lot of praise of her work here on LT. I'll have to look up this one.

I'm a Dorothy Dunnett fan (at least of her historical novels) and have been in love with Francis Crawford (of the Lymond Chronicles) since I was a teenager. Although I have read and re-read all of these novels they are hard work and emotionally wrenching. King Hereafter, being based on real people, is one of those books that, whenever I read it, I find myself hoping against hope that this time it will all end well, but of course it never does.

32. Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel

I'm rather glad I didn't finish Wolf Hall last summer. Although I was enjoying the book greatly, it does, as many reviewers have noted, take some concentration, and I knew that once the rat race of a new semester began, I would have little time to devote to it. So I put it away and started over from the beginning a few weeks ago. One reason that I'm happy to have waited is that I have an LTER copy of the sequel, Bring Up the Bodies. And I am delightfully free now to immerse myself in Cromwell's world.

What can I possibly add to all the accolades that Wolf Hall has garnered? Yes, it is beautifully written, at times smart and snappy, at other times almost lyrical. Mantel's concept--to take a slice of popular and well-known history and revisit it through the eyes of one who watched and manipulated events rather than one of the direct participants--is brilliant. Thomas Cromwell remains enough of a shadow figure in the history books that the author is free to imagine his inner world, the ticking of his mind and the workings of a heart most would never suspect that he had.

Henry's court is a dangerous and exciting place, one where even a smithy's son can move upward on his merit but where everyone constantly has to watch his or her back and think before speaking. Cromwell's conversations with Anne Boleyn and with Thomas More read like a chess match, each player trying not only to outsmart the oppponent but to anticipate the next move. And Mantel provides planty of details to draw in her readers.

I rarely give books a five-star rating, but I'd give Wolf Hall six stars, if I could. It's everything one could hope a historical novel to be--and more.

33. Time After Time by Molly Keane

I'm not sure exactly what to make of this book, a rather dark comedy centered around decaying Irish gentility. The four elderly Swift siblings--Jasper and his fluffily named sisters, April, May, and June--live rather uncomfortably together, doomed by their domineering Mummy's will to share the decrepit family estate. Baiting one another seems to be their primary form of entertainment. Each has a particular handicap and a particular domain. Jasper, who lost an eye as a child due to Baby June's carelessness, rules in the kitchen and tends to his horticultural pursuits, often accompanied by Anselm, a lovely young monk. April, the only married Swift, now a widow, is deaf and spends her time coddling her dog and pursuing new health and beauty regimens. May, whose hand is deformed, presides over the local flower arranging club and restores Victorian doodads. And June, who didn't receive much of an education, lives for her smelly dog Tiny, her horse, and her pregnant pig. When their Jewish cousin Leda--who they thought had been killed in the Holocaust arrives on their doorstep, unexpectedly blind, the Swifts' world is thrown into chaos. Leda, it seems, is looking for a permanent residence; but she has revenge in mind.

This is the first novel by Molly Keane that I've read, and I have several others on my shelves. I will surely give them a chance. Although I can't say that I loved Time After Time, it had it's moments and kept me interested overall.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

Your link for the Keane book goes to another book.

I'm reading Bring Up the Bodies now and it is pulling me in just as Wolf Hall did. Can't the woman write!

83> Thanks--I thought I fixed that, but I guess not!

Yep, I'm also digging into Bring Up the Bodies and am having the same reaction. I'm already disappointed that it's 100 pages shorter!

Excellent summary of Wolf Hall, Deborah. I'm glad that you enjoyed it as much as I did.

34. Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel

Like many other readers, I was eagerly awaiting the sequel to Wolf Hall, and, overall, Mantel does not disappoint. Here, she again covers familiar ground, Henry VIII's dislluisionment with his second wife, Anne Boleyn, due in part to her strident and flirtatious personality, but more to the fact that she hasn't rapidly produced a male heir. The story is told again from the point of view of Thomas Cromwell, who is charged for the second time with the task of discovering a way to cast off an unwanted queen. Cromwell appears to be an ambitious man who (like so many Nazi officers claimed) is just following orders; but there is an undercurrent of revenge towards the men he brings down along with Anne. Mantel gives him an imagined inner life that balances the cold, calculating politican against a man who has survived both hardship and tragedy. Not without heart, her Cromwell nevertheless has the ability, when necessary, to turn that heart into stone.

Mantel brings in a number of details that I either was not aware of or had forgotten, such as the irony that Henry's marriage to Anne was annulled for the same reason as his marriage to Katherine, prior sexual relations with a sibling (in this case, Henry's affair with Mary Boleyn). And she successfully ties in to the events of Wolf Hall through memories, as in the recurrent appearance of the peacock wings worn by his deceased daughter Grace in a Christmas pageant. Again, the writing is at times almost lyrical--another way of humanizing the man whose own son says that he looks like a murderer.

Two responses to repeated comments by other reviewers: first, on the insertions of "he, Cromwell" as a supposed attempt to answer criticism of the sometimes confusing use of simply "he" in Wolf Hall. Overall, I found this less helpful than it was disruptive. It was often unnecessary, and the repetition grew irksome; it was as if I was being reminded that I was a poor, confused reader who probably couldn't figure out for myself who was speaking or being spoken about. I would rather be a little confused on occasion than frequently irritated. Second, I don't agree with those who feel that Bring Up the Bodies is far superior to Wolf Hall. It's an excellent book with a tighter frame of action, but overall, I'd give the first novel in the trilogy an extra half star.

Like everyone else, I'll be eagerly awaiting the third installment in this awesome series.

4.5 out of 5 stars.

Excellent review of Bring Up the Bodies, Deborah. I have it loaded on my Kindle and am savoring the anticipation of deciding to settle in and read it.

35. Sarah Thornhill by Kate Grenville.

Third in a series based on the Thornhill family's settlement in Australlia, Sarah Thornhill is the definitely weakest installment. While it was a fast and fairly engaging read, I kept thinking to myself that I had read it all before. Grenville traces again the tricky relations between the white settlers and the black native inhabitants. At times, the blacks (and half-blacks) seem to be accepted--up to a point; at other times, prejudice is rampant. Sarah's Pa, who was "sent out" (meaning he was sent to Australia as punishment for crimes committed in England), has made his way up in the world, accumulating money, land, and a bit of class, including a second wife with pretentions of joining the hoi polloi. The first half of the novel centers around Sarah's growing love for Jack Langland, a half-black young man who seems to be accepted into the family circle. The two have pledged to marry, but when they make this known, Pa and Ma Thornhill make clear where the social and racial lines are to be drawn. As things start to fall apart, family secrets start seeping through the cracks--secrets that tear apart not only Sarah and Jack but the entire Thornhill family.

On the plus side, Grenville draws a sharp portrait of the hardships of life on a new settlement as she focuses on Sarah's newly married life with Irishman John Daunt. What she has to say about black-white relations, while painful, is fairly conventional and has been handled more deftly in other works.

I have to agree with the reviewer who complained about the substitution of the word "of" for "have" (or, more accurately, the contraction 've) throughout. Maybe the reason it bothered me so much is that, as an English professor, it's one of the perennial errors in student papers that really grates on my nerves. Ex: "They must of took her to the cemetary, I said." It's true that Sarah is illiterate; but then she's telling her story, not writing it down, so why not use the common contraction? By the time I got to the end of the book, I found myself starting to count "ofs" with my teeth set on edge. If it hadn't been for this, I probably would have upped my rating by at least half a star.

3 out of 5 stars.

Hmph, I was initially really excited about this book but yours is the second review I've read that has put me off a bit. That's enough to send it way to the bottom of a "might read it someday" pile.

Nice review, Deborah. I'll probably read The Secret River in the near future, but I'll pass on Sarah Thornhill.

Way back up to 26: I haven't come across your thread in a while, Deborah, but I found it today, and I had to laugh at the first thing I read, which was your review of The Edwardians. I pulled that book off the shelf just this morning and paged through it, debating whether or not to read it. I decided "not right now" but I may rethink that!

36. Dancing with Mr. Darcy, edited by Sarah Waters

A rather ho-hum collection of short stories selected by Sarah Waters as the best entries submitted to a competition sponsored by the Chawton House Library in 2009. All the stories were "inspired" by Jane Austen's life, works, home at Chawton, or the Chawton House Library itself. In the winning story, "Jane Austen over the Styx," the author descends into hell, charged with creating older female characters who are either snobs, scolds, harpies, or selfish manipulators--some of whom are there to give testimony. This is perhaps the best of the lot. I was at times at a loss to see the Austen connections in others, such as the fantasy-like "Broken Words." Overall, not a bad collection, but very hit and miss.

3 out of 5 stars.

>92 Cariola: No thanks.

Great review of Bring Up The Bodies. I hope to obtain this book soon.
Anne Boleyn continues to be my favorite historical character.

Opps, forgot to ask if you have a summer break.

Yes, I've been on break for almost a month now!

37. Sacre Bleu by Christopher Moore

This was the first book I've read (actually, I listened to it on audio) by Christopher Moore, and it may be my last. It wasn't bad, just not the kind of thing I'd normally read. I picked this one up because it dealt with the Impressionist painters. I've heard that his books are hilarious; this one had a few rather juvenile snickers (e.g., Juliette's name for the color man, "poop stick"), but I didn't find it all that amusing. The 'mystery' of what happened to Van Gogh and so many other painters is not only a bit creepy but also borders on the fantastic, and fantasy is another genre that I really don't care for. If you're a fan of Moore, just ignore this review; it's a matter of taste. If you haven't read Moore before, maybe a different novel would be the place to start.

2.5 out of 5 stars.

38. The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes

I'm not sure that I would have admired this book quite so much had I read it several decades ago. But I'm now of an age where I'm thinking a lot about the past and about what I want to do with the years that I have left, so The Sense of an Ending really hit home with me.

The novel is written in two parts. In the first, Anthony Webster starts with memories--images really. As he says, "This isn't something I actually saw, but what you end up remembering isn't always the same as what you have witnessed." This is the first of Anthony's many insights on the passing of time. The section falls into reverie regarding his schooldays with three particular friends, Colin, Anthony, and Adrian; their efforts to keep their friendships solid while each continued on to a different university; and Anthony's relationship with his first love, Veronica. These memories are key to the novel's longer second part. "History," he tells us, "isn't the lies of the victors, . . . It's more the memories of the survivors, most of whom are neither victorious nor defeated."

As sometimes happens in real life, the unexpected can trigger questions about the past. In the sixty-ish Anthony's case, it comes in the form of a 500-pound bequest from Veronica's mother, a woman whom he had met only once forty years earlier. The deceased woman's handwritten note is more confusing than explanatory. In addition to the cash, the will also, oddly, bequeaths to him his friend Adrian's diary--which seems either to have disappeared or been deliberately withheld. Anthony's quest to recover the diary leads to a re-examination of himself and the past, and to the realizations that one's perceptions aren't always accurate, or at least not always shared by others. "When we are young," he says, "we invent different futures for ourselves; when we are old, we invent different pasts for others."

I'll leave the description at that, as I don't want to give away any of the events, suppositions, and revelations that ensue, all of which add up to a moving and unexpected ending. Barnes's insights into human nature are brilliant. Although this is a short book, I did not, like other readers, race through it in a single afternoon. One of the reasons is that Anthony's musings and memories often triggered my own, and I found myself trying to sort things out a bit before returning to the novel. The Sense of an Ending is chock full of the kind of philosophical nuggets like those quoted above. Here are a few more:

"But time . . . how time first grinds us and then confounds us. We thought we were being mature when we were only being safe. We imagined we were being responsible but were only being cowardly. What we called realism turned out to be a way of avoiding things rather than facing them."

"Sometimes I think the purpose of life is to reconcile us to its eventual loss by wearing us down, by proving, however, long it take, that life isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Anthony Webster may not be a man you particularly like, but he is one you'll grow to understand. This is one amazing book, full of insights, surprising, beautifully written.

5 out of 5 stars.

I thought I'd copy my comment about your review that I posted on your Club Read thread:

Deborah, your review of The Sense of an Ending is the one that most closely captures my opinion about and feelings toward this wonderful book. Now that I've surpassed 50, I find myself reflecting on past mistakes and a particular lost love, and this book resonated deeply within me, even though I did read it relatively quickly (in no more than two days). The quotes you mentioned, particularly the first one in the second paragraph of your review, made me literally gasp and pause in reflection for several minutes. It's one of the few books that I'll be able to associate with a particular location, as I read most of it while sitting in a London cafe on a rainy Sunday afternoon last September. As I had mentioned, I definitely want to read it again, but more slowly the next time.

Thanks, Darryl. This one is indeed a keeper, and I have a feeling I'll be going back to it--a rare occurence for me.

Thumbs up from me for your excellent review of The Sense of An Ending. I must read this soon. Happy Summer. It is hotter than blazes here today.

Hot here, too--and getting humid. I think you will enjoy The Sense of an Ending, Linda.

39. Hark! A Vagrant by Kate Beaton

Several years ago, a student emailed me a link to one of Kate Beaton's cartoons of Mary Shelley; we were reading Frankenstein at the time. Since then, I've browsed the Canadian cartoonist's work online, and I decided to indulge in this hardcover collection. Spending an afternoon reading Hark! A Vagrant was pure delight. Beaton takes on a number of literary and historical figures, including the Brontes, Jane Austen, Shakespeare, Goethe, Kerouac, Elizabeth I, Montcalm, Ben Franklin, and more. I particularly enjoyed the section where she reproduces a popular book cover, then creates a three-frame comic of what the cover suggests the book might be about. If history and literature are not your thing, never fear: there are plenty of pop culture comics here, too: Wonderwoman, Wolverine, pirates, Canadian sterotypes, and hipsters, to name just a few. Beaton's comics display a wry, somewhat sardonic humor. Many of them are accompanied by brief background comments which are often just as clever.

If, like me, you're not a regular reader of comics, give Beaton a chance--she's hilarious. You can browse them by topic on her Hark! A Vagrant website.

4.5 out of 5 stars.

40. Effie: The Passionate Lives of Effie Gray, John Ruskin, and John Everett Millais by Suzanne Fagence Cooper

Effie Gray was only twelve when she met the celebrated young art critic John Ruskin in 1841. A friendship developed, and within a few years, he proposed; the two married when Effie was nineteen, Ruskin 29. Effie imagined the two of them as the perfect couple, her social charm as asset to his brilliance. But on their wedding night, something went terribly wrong. Despite her innocence, Effie knew that there had to be more to marriage than taking walks along the riverbank: Ruskin either would not or could not consummate their union. In a letter to her parents, she wrote:

"He alleged various reasons, hatred to children, religious motives, a desire to preserve my beauty, and finally this last year he told me his true reason... that he had imagined women were quite different to what he saw I was, and that the reason he did not make me his Wife was because he was disgusted with my person the first evening 10th April 1848."

Ashamed, Effie remained in the marriage for six years before formally filing for an annulment. She was subjected to a physical examination to verify her chastity and humiliated by Ruskin's testimony that "though her face was beautiful, her person was not formed to excite passion. On the contrary, there were certain circumstances in her person which completely checked it." The doctor who examined her declared that she was normal in every way; it has been speculated that Ruskin might have been repelled by his wife's pubic hair, or that she was menstruating. As one would expect, the case created a scandal in Victorian England.

Fortunately, a happier future was in store. Effie had posed for Ruskin's friend, the artist John Everett Millais, who accompanied the couple on a trip to Scotland. The two fell in love and were married a year after the annulment was granted. Fagence devotes the first half of her biography to the scandal, but the second details Effie's 42-year marriage, which, despite some losses and difficulties, was a happy one. Effie continued to model for Millais (as did her siblings, her eight children, and later their grandchildren), and "Everett," as she called him, eventually earned great success as a painter, as well as a baronetcy. But her one disappointment was that the queen would not receive "a divorced person" at court. It seemed she would never quite shake the scandal of NOT being a wife to Ruskin. And Ruskin, who apparently never learned when not to speak, publicly blamed Effie for 'ruining' Millais's potential as an artist, the necessity of feeding a family turning him to a more lucrative style.

Cooper does an admirable job of presenting this slice of Victorian scandal and a peek into the world of art. We learn not only about the three persons mentioned in her lengthy title, but also about her travels in Italy, the elder Ruskins, Effie's family in Scotland, the Millais children, and the friends who stood by her. I did find the second half a bit confusing at times, partly because of the profusion of Johns, Georges, Sophias and Effies, but also because of the author's tendency to jump back and forth through time.

*Spoiler* There is a bittersweet ending to Effie's story. On his deathbed, a visiting friend asked Millais if there was anything that she could do for him. His answer, scrawled on a slate as he had lost his ability to speak: "Please see that my wife is invited to court." Effie was received at an official function soon after, the queen's daughter having interceded on her behalf. She outlived her husband by only 16 months.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

Lois (avaland) also enjoyed Hark! A Vagrant, so I'll add this to my wish list.

I'm going to be so sad when you start a new thread. I just love those two faces at the top.

106> Me, too! One of them looks like one of my students. Love the swaddled babies, too. But don't worry, I'll find another interesting portrait. And we've got a ways to go before I launch a new thread.

Thanks for your excellent review of Effie. I started this book before semester's end and was too busy to give it the energy it deserves.

41. The Queen's Vow: A Novel of Isabella of Castile by C. W. Gortner

Isabella of Castile was one of the most powerful rulers of her day. This novel begins with the death of her father and ends with her considering sponsorship of the explorer Columbus in 1492. In between there is a lot of political wrangling and warfare, not to mention romance and childbirth. That's all to be expected, I guess, when a book's protagonist is both a ruler and a woman.

For me, the most interesting chapters were those that covered Isabella's return to the court of her half-brother, King Enrique. A weak king with dissolute habits who was controlled by his favcorites and his promiscuous wife, Enrique constantly feared that Alfonso or Isabella was plotting to kill him and take the crown of Castile. The lengths to which he went to keep that from happening were intolerably cruel. But in the end, as we know, Isabella did become queen, and she also, despite Enrique's threats and devious plans, got her man.

Oddly, once Isabella and Ferando were married and took their respective thrones, the novel started to get a bit dull for me. Their relationship was rather stereotypical and romancey as portrayed, and the continual series of uprisings, invasions, and ambushes became tedious, as did the constant scrambling for money and the push to exile the Jews from Castile (which were, of course, tied together). Yes, these were some of the difficulties that Isabella and her husband faced . . . but they weren't interesting enough to take up so much space.

Since Isabella remained on the throne for many years beyond 1492, I suspect that a sequel or two are on the way. Obviously, I'm not as enthusiastic about this novel as others have been. The author effectively creates the atmosphere of late fifteenth-century Spain, and the characters are fairly well drawn. But the ponderous last third brought down my overall rating. I suspect this opinion may also reflect the fact that the last two works of historical fiction that I read were Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies, which were far superior to anything I've read in years.

3.5 stars.

I know what you mean. You almost have to read the cleansing sorbet of a zippy mystery between Mantel's books and anything else.

42. Painter of Silence by Georgina Harding

This very moving, beautifully written novel really SHOULD have won the Orange Prize. Set in Romania in a period covering roughtly the late 1930s to the early 1950s, Painter of Silence focuses on the life of Augustin, a deaf-mute with an astonishing ability for drawing, and Safta, a young nurse. The two formed a friendship as children, despite their differences in class: Augustin's mother worked as a cook in Safta's family's upper class mansion. At the beginning of the book, the young man, in terrible physical condition, arrives in the city of Iasi, looking for Safta, and collapses on the steps of the hospital where she works. When she hears that a deaf and dumb young man has been admitted, she feels certain that it is Augustin. The remainder of the book traces the events of their lives from their first meeting through the horrors of World War II and the Soviet takeover of Romania and, in the end, sets Augustin on his path towards the future.

This could have been just a typical war story, but it is so much more. It's a story about how we communicate, how we see the world, how we continue to strive for our best when those around us fall short. It's a story that is both unique and identifiable, and it's beautifully written. Harding does an excellent job of depicting the details of the landscape and daily lives of her characters, and she creates a voice that is soft yet powerful, a tone that is melancholic yet hopeful. Very highly recommended.

(Note: I listened to this book on audio; it will not be released until September in the US. It's one of those relatively rare books that I will undoubtedly read in print as well.)

4.5 out of 5 stars.

Hi, Deborah! If I had world enough and time, I'd latch onto *Effie* immediately! Meanwhile, I do have Painter of Silence loaded on my Kindle. I was happy to get it before they yanked it. Wonder why they did that? Anyway, your review makes me want to get to it very soon!
(I enjoy looking at the Cholmondeley ladies too!!)

43. Imagined Lives: Portraits of Unknown People by John Banville, Tracy Chevalier, Julian Fellowes, Alexander McCall Smith, Terry Pratchett, Sarah Singleton, Joanna Trollope, and Minette Walters

This clever little gem has found a special place on my bookshelf next to another, Helen Humphreys's The Frozen Thames. Published by the National Portrait Gallery in London, Imagined Lives is a collection of fourteen 'biographical' sketches based on sixteenth- and seventeenth-century portraits of unknown sitters. Eight well-known writers contributed to the book: John Banville, Tracy Chevalier, Julian Fellowes, Alexander McCall Smith, Terry Pratchett, Sarah Singleton, Joanna Trollope, and Minette Walters. Each has given the portrait sitter a name, and the sketches take the form of biographical entries, letters, and internal dialogues. One imagines the sitter critiquing his own newly-finished portrait. In another (my favorite), a young woman writes to her mother, asking for advice on a proposal from the man in the portrait. Tracy Chevalier's subject, an aging woman, muses on why she agreed to be drawn and on the passing of her years.

The book includes full color copies of the portraits plus a closeup of a significant detail in each. At the back you'll find a fine essay on how sitters in historic portraits are identified, using as models known portraits of Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, Mary, Queen of Scots, Anne Boleyn, and Michael Drayton. Details of each portrait's provenance, media, and dimensions are provided, along with a brief history of former identifications.

This is a lovely and fascinating book, the kind to reach for in quiet moments or to take you away from the not-so-quiet.

5 out of 5 stars.

Nice review of Imagined Lives, Deborah. I'll look for it when I go to London in September.

That is a neat concept for a book.

44. The Lemon Table by Julian Barnes

I picked up this collection of short stories on the strength of Barnes's Booker-winning novel, The Sense of an Ending. Similarly, most of these stories also deal with aging--but without the humor and touch of hope found there. Quite a few deal wiuth artists, musicians and writers who have lost their talent; several others involve elderly people who suffer from Alzheimer's and their caretakers. Overall, I found it rather sad and depressing, although finely written.

3 out of 5 stars

45. The Light Between Oceans by M. L. Stedman

Tom Sherbourne, a decorated hero of World War I, is a haunted man: he's haunted by the men he killed, by the comrades who died alongside him; and by an unhappy childhood--none of which he is willing to talk about. In an effort to find peace, Tom takes a position as a lighthouse keeper on Janus Island, 100 miles out from the coastal city of Partageuse. No one is more surprised than Tom when he finds love with Isabel Graysmarks, a beautiful and spirited local girl who is willing to marry him and move to the isolated island. Both of them grow to love the spare landscape and the magical light itself. But if there is one thing that blights their happiness, it is Isabel's inability to bear a child. She has suffered two miscarriages and, just two weeks earlier, a stillbirth, when a boat washes ashore, inside it a dead man, a woman's cardigan--and a live infant. As always, Tom feels obligated to do the right thing . . . but just what is the right thing?

Stedman has written a compelling novel, one that captivates the reader and moves him/her through a myriad of emotions, from sorrow to joy, from peacefulness to suspense, from anger to acceptance. Her characters are individual and believable (although I found the child Lucy just a bit too precious) and always deserving of empathy. Stedman's descriptions of the island and of the beloved lighthouse are so vivid that you can smell the salt sea, the polish, and the vapor. Overall, a fine novel--and an amazing debut. I look forward to her next endeavor.

4.5 out of 5 stars

Note: This would be an excellent book club selection.

You find such fascinating books. I've added Effie, Imagined Lives, Painter of Silence, and Light Between Oceans to my wishlist. Does Effie have photos/illustrations? I was almost tempted to do the one-click thing for my Kindle, but I don't like to put books with photos/illustrations on the Kindle.

118> Oh, I wish I could answer that question, but I 'read' (listened to) the book on audio. I looked at table of contents on B&N, and there is a page for "List of Illustrations," so I would expect there are quite a few photos of the people involved and significant places.

The Light Between the Oceans sounds interesting. I've always been fascinated by lighthouses although I don't think I'd want the job of lighthouse keeper. I think I'd get tired of climbing up and down all those steps!

46. Seducers in Ecuador and The Heir by Vita Sackville-West

The introduction to these two novelettes tells us that the first was written for Sackville-West's friend and fellow author, Virginia Woolf, and the latter was a tribute to her beloved childhood home, Knole, which she could not inherit simply because of her sex.In Seducers in Ecuador, Arthur Lomax is asked to join people he hardy know on a yacht cruise to Egypt. Well, why not? Arthur has taken to wearing blue, brown, or black lenses that not only protect his eyes from the sun but have changed his view of the world. Suddenly, everything seems fine with him. Marry a woman who was seduced and impregnated by a man who ran off to Ecuador? Why not? Poison a man who claims to have a terminal illness at his request? Why not? Unfortunately, not all turns out well for Arthur, but he accepts the consequences--why not?

The Heir is perhaps a bit more conventional, but I enjoyed it more. The author's love for her family estate and its gardens comes through in Peregrine Chase, a man transformed by the inheritance of a Tudor estate. Perhaps that is what she hoped for the cousin who inherited Knole as well. The descriptions of a fading way of life are lovely but bittersweet. Already, in 1922, the upkeep of a family estate was an expensive matter, and many took advice similar to that offered by Chase's aunt's lawyer: break it into pieces and sell it.

On the whole, these were less than stellar stories, more notable for their social and historical commentary than as literature.

3 out of 5 stars.

47. March by Geraldine Brooks

I seem to have had this book on my shelf forever, and I'm not sure why it has taken me so long to get around to it. As everyone probably knows, this is an imagined background story to Alcott's Little Women: instead of focusing on the daughters, about 3/4 of the novel is about the March family patriarch, and the last quarter is told from the point of view of Marmee, starting when she goes to the union hospital to nurse her desperately ill husband. Mr. March, bolstered by his wife's near-fanaticism, is an ardent abolitionist--to the point that he has lost his fortune to John Brown's schemes. Even so, he still believes in the cause, in part due to his encounters years earlier with an inteligent, attractive young slave and her brutal master. An influential pastor, March encourages the young men of Concord to enlist in the Union cause, and his guilt ultimately drives him to enlist as well. His civil war service begins by ministering to the soldiers on the field, but he is later assigned to teach freed slaves how to read and write on an experimental communal farm. When Marmee rushes to Washington to nurse her husband, who is suffering from a deadly fever, she has to come to grips with his secrets and her own guilt.

Brooks has obviously done her research here: the book comes alive with real-life characters, including Brown, Emerson, and Thoreau, and the pictures she draws of the nation at war, both on the field and at home, are powerful. The March parents lose some of their ever-optimistic facade--but that's perhaps a good thing. Here, they become real people, caught up, as so many Americans were, in the fury of the civil war and its effects on the individual, the family, and the nation.

The writing here is as fine as it was in Brooks's earlier novel, Year of Wonders (which remains my favorite). Strongly recommended.

4 out of 5 stars.

48. Good Evening, Mrs. Craven: The Wartime Stories of Mollie Panter-Downes.

The book's subtitle gives a clear description of its contents: a collection of stories written during the war years (1939-45). Most of them focus on the lives of British women and the minor and major inconveniences they experienced, from rationing food to finding a safe haven, from opening homes to refugees from the city to having to say goodbye (sometimes more than once). In her understated way, Panter-Downes brings to the fore the quiet--often silent--heroism of these women in wartime, adding a touch of humor and poignancy. While I can't say that I absolutely loved the book, I did appreciate many of the stories in it.

3 out of 5 stars.

49. The Mistress of Nothing by Kate Pullinger

Well, I was rather disappointed with this book. It begins with two interesting real-life characters, Lady Lucie Duff-Gordon and her maid, Sally Naldrett, but it soon resorts to conventional romance and a commentary on the hypocrisy of the British class system.

The ailing Lady Lucie Duff-Gordon has been sent to Egypt for her health, accompanied only by her long-time lady's maid, Sally Naldrett. The unconventional mistress (known for her travel writing and independent spirit) encourages Sally to follow her lead in removing her stays and adopting a semi-masculine Egyptian dress as they revel in what they consider the "free" life of the anceint country. Lady Duff-Gordon relies on male friends and letters of reference to secure help--most notably that of a very capable dragoman who not only guides and interprets but also cooks and shops for the two women. Soon my lady, Sally, and Omar form a triumverate as jolly as the three musketeers. That is, until Sally and Omar fall in love, and Sally gives birth to an illegitimate child. Omar is willing to take Sally as his second wife--but not to go against the wishes of Lady Duff-Gordon and lose his lucrative employment.

Perhaps the most interesting parts of the book are the descriptions of life in mid-nineteenth century Egypt, a seething political hotbed despite its placid surface. The current dictator, bent on building the Suez Canal, confiscates and taxes the property of the poor and conscripts young men into his work force. Lady Duff-Gordon happened to be one of the few Europeans to speak out against this regime.

I suppose it should come as no surprise when a liberal "free spirit" reverts to the snobbish conventions of her privileged class. But Sally's naivete was equally annoying. There was enough of interest here to merit a mediocre rating, but, sadly, most of that interest came from outside of the two main characters.

2.5 out of 5 stars.

I felt exactly the same way about The Mistress of Nothing.

I very much enjoyed March - so glad that you did too!

>126 scaifea:: me too!

Nice review of March, Deborah. I have it on the shelves and must get around to reading it.

The Light Between Oceans sounds fascinating!

I don't know when was the last time I added so many books to my TBR list in one fell swoop. I'm not sure whether to thank you or curse you, Deborah!

Thanking is so much nicer, so I'll say "Thanks for the recommendations!"

129> It was an excellent book; I think you'd love it.

130> I've had a pretty good spell of reading over the summer, with lots of books rating above 3.5. Hope you enjoy those you've added to your wish list!

50. The House on Fortune Street by Margot Livesey

Livesey uses an interesting structure: the book is divided into four parts, each from the point of view of a different character, all of whose lives are intertwined. First, Sean tells of his life with his girlfriend, Abigail, and their friend and neighbor Dara, his failed efforts at graduate school, his divorce, and his suspicions that Abigail may be cheating on him. Cameron, Dara's father, relates a tragic story from his youth, his years of hiding a dark secret, and his relationship with his daughter, Dara. The third and fourth sections focus on Dara and Abigail, two very different young women who have been friends since college. Overall, this was a fairly interesting character study--a good but not great book.

I hope you are having a great summer. The semester will be just around the corner and I hope it will be so much better than last year.

Congratulations on reading 50 books thus far.

Deborah, you have had a pretty good spell of reading over the summer. Since I agree with what you write about things I've read, March for instance, I'll avoid Mistress of Nothing, which had interested me, and be on the lookout for The Light Between Oceans. And I really do need to read V. S-W.
Keep up the good work!!!

51. The Chaperone by Laura Moriarty

This is one of those books that really hooked me in at first but fell off a bit towards the end. It's 1922, and Cora Carlisle, a respectable Wichita wife in her late thirties, is hired to accompany 15-year old Louise Brooks to New York City. Louise, who became a silent film star a few years later, had been accepted by the exclusive dance school run by Ruth St. Denis and Ted Shawn. Despite their age difference, it quickly becomes clear that it's Cora, not Louise, who is the more naive. Wherever they go, the beautiful Louise attracts male attention--and seems to know just what to do with it.

The story is more that of Cora than of Louise. The main reason that she wants to go to New York is to find out about her birth parents. She vaguely remembers a dark-haired woman holding her and singing in a foreign language, but her earliest clear memories are of the Catholic orphanage where she was raised to about age seven. Cora was one of thousands of orphaned children who were put on trains and shipped to potential parents in the plains states. Fortunately, her adoptive parents were loving and kind, but as she grew, Cora's life was not untouched by tragedy. In a day when adoption records were sealed, Cora attempts to find out who where she came from, who she really is.

The confrontations between Cora and Louise are exactly what one would expect, Cora constantly reminding her charge that she mustn't allow herself to be "compromised," Louise scoffing at Cora's old-fashioned Christian morality. This leads to a lot of self-examination on the chaperone's part, including the revelation of family secrets. But it isn't long before Louise is invited to join the Denis-Shawn company, and Cora heads back to Wichita--but not exactly to the same life.

The last quarter of the novel rushes through 50+ years of Cora's life, with occasional mentions and sightings of Louise. Overall, it seems rushed, and rather formulaic, all the 'surprises' too anticipated: hence the 3.5 rating. The rush is even more pronounced because the section on Louise seems rather dragged out. Think about the balance: 3/4 of the book focused on a few months in 1922 (plus Cora's memories), 1/3 covering the next 50+ years.

Overall, it's not a bad read, just slightly disappointing in the end. One thing I did get out of it was a renewed interest in Louise Brooks, one of the most distinctively stunning and most controversial actresses of the silent film era. Netflix will be sending me a documentary on her life, based in part on her autobiography, Lulu in Hollywood.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

Good review of The Chaperone, Deborah. Laura Moriarty visited the Iowa City Book Festival a couple of weeks ago, and it was interesting to hear about how she came to write this book. Louise Brooks' chaperone on this trip was mentioned in just a single sentence in her autobiography, which led Moriarty to create the character of Cora. I'm disappointed to hear the ending is rushed, but I'm still excited to read this one.

136> Oh, I'd definitely encourage you to read it! To it's advantage, the book does take on a rather unusual topic--not just the chaperoning, but Cora's life history. It kept my interest, at least until the last quarter or so.

52. Last Year's Jesus by Ellen Slezak

Since I was born in Detroit, grew up in the suburbs, and lived more than half of my life in the area, Ellen Slezak's stories brought back a lot of memories of persons and places: Bob-Lo Island, Ernie Harwell, the Ford River Rouge Plant, Sonny Eliot, Bozo, Jerry Cavanaugh, Woodward Avenue, Hamtramck, Tiger Stadium, etc. That said, I think there's plenty in Slezak's stories that non-Detroiters will relate to. They are very human stories. Two aging sisters stuck working at a GM plant are both rivals and best friends. A young boy, abandoned by his mother, moves in with his father and new wife and finds comfort in the friendship of an elderly neighbor. Three sisters whose lives have taken different directions quarrel over whether or not to move the body of a sister who died young to be near her parents' graves. A young woman who tries to turn an abandoned building into a European-style hotel gets more than she bargained for from a Russian tenant. These are stories with a lot of heart, and the characters ring psychologically true.

The "novella," titled "Head, Heart, Legs, or Arms," is narrated by nine-year old Mona, whose little sister DeeDee has been hospitalized. Mona doesn't know what's wrong with DeeDee, and no one will tell her; in a diary entry, she ponders:

"Possible things wrong with her: 1. Amputation, 2. Blindness (one or two eyes), 3. Retardation, 4. Heart murmur, 5. Other? Possible body parts affected: a. Head, b. Heart, c. Legs or arms."

In a prime example of children's magical thinking, Mona believes that if she doesn't see DeeDee in the hospital, her sister will come home. In the background are the 1967 riots, a serial killer on the loose in Ann Arbor (where her sister Rose will move to attend university in the fall), and the Tigers' shot at the American League title, as well as ongoing family issues. Slezak's Mona is a narrator who thinks like a child and sounds like a child--something rarely done so effectively.

Recommended--and I plan to look for more of Slezak's work.

4.5 out of 5 stars.

Your most recent read is now on the TBR pile.

Happy Sunday!

53. Yes, Chef by Marcus Samulesson

I don't usually read memoirs, but a recommendation from another LT reader convinced me to give this one a try--and I'm glad that I did. I knew the bare bones of Marcus Samuelsson's story--that he was adopted from Africa by a Swedish couple and worked his way up to become a top chef in America--and I had seen him on TV. But his memoir proves him to be both a dedicated chef and, as an author, a brutally honest man who examines his own mistakes unflinchingly.

Samuelsson doesn't remember much about Africa; he was less than two years old when his mother, who was suffering from tuberculosis, walked many miles to get treatment for him and his older sister. She died in the hospital, and the children were quickly adopted by a forty-ish Swedish couple. Most of his memories are of a loving home, and of the grandmother who first sparked his interest in food. But as might be expected, there were also times when it wasn't easy being a black boy in a small Swedish town.

Samuelsson's early years as rising as a chef were marked by absolute ambition, and he paid an emotional price. He missed the funerals of both his father and grandmother, and he neglected a daughter born out of wedlock until she was 14 (although his parents paid his child support--and billed him later--and kept in touch with Zoe). But there's no whining here: Samuelsson admits his mistakes and takes the blame for their repercussions. After he had achieved a good measure of success and had time to reflect on what was lost, it was too late to mend some fences. But Samuelsson worked to build a relationship with Zoe and with his newly-rediscovered Ethiopian family.

Samuelsson gives us a fascinating look into the world of elilte chefs, a world that is at one moment cutthroat and at the next takes the term "networking" to new heights. But Yes, Chef is more than a professional memoir; it's the very human story of a man I've learned to respect.

4 out of 5 stars.

I enjoyed reading your three most recent reviews, Deborah. I'll add Yes, Chef to my wish and gift lists; I bought his cook book The Soul of a New Cuisine for my mother and her younger sister, and they would probably like to read his memoir as well.

54. Nocturnes: Five Stories of Music and Nightfall by Kazuo Ishiguro

I've never read anything by Ishiguro, so all the gushing on LT was making me feel a bit guilty. I thought I'd start with this collection of short stories--which may have been a mistake. It's what I'd call a "concept" collection, and the concept really didn't engage me. Each of the five stories centers on a musician: a young emigré cellist from a former Soviet bloc country, a once-great crooner, an itinerant guitar player, musicians whose dreams of glory have faded into part-time gigs in Venetian cafés. On the whole, I just didn't care about them, their often extreme efforts to get ahead, and their somewhat seedy, down-and-out lives. The writing was OK, but not as glorious as I had come to expect. I am underwhelmed. But I'll give Ishiguro another chance down the road.

2.5 out of 5 stars.

I did enjoy Nocturnes, but nowhere near as much as The Remains of the Day, his Booker Prize winning novel, which is a masterpiece.

>143 kidzdoc:: I agree, The Remains of the Day is a superb novel, one of my all-time favorites.

I need to read The Remains of the Day. I loved the film version of the book.

Marcus Samuelsson will appear as a guest on PBS' The Charlie Rose Show tonight, and will talk about his memoir, Yes, Chef. The link below will take you to Charlie Rose's web site, where anyone who is outside of the US or who isn't able to stay up late to watch the show on their local PBS station can watch the video in a day or two.

http://www.charlierose.com/

Thanks, Darryl! I always tape Charlie Rose (even if I don't always like him or his guests), so if I'm too tired to stay up, I'll have it available when I return from my two-day mini-vacation. (I'm going to Brandywine country--I've lived in PA for 15 years but have never been to Longwood, Winterthur, Baldwin's Book Barn. etc.)

>147 Cariola:: It's a nice place to visit! Longwood and Winterthur are both excellent, and there are two nice art museums too: the Brandywine River Museum on Rt. 1 and the Delaware Art Museum in Wilmington. Oh, and the Book Barn ... haven't been there in ages but you could definitely lose yourself in there for a while. Enjoy!

#147: I hope you get a nice haul from the Book Barn, Deborah. It sounds like our kind of place!

Have a wonderful min-vacation.

150> The Book barn was pretty awesome--five big floors of books of all kinds. But I have to admit that I get a little overwhelmed by places like that, especially when the books aren't always logically ordered on the shelves and there are tons more laying around in stacks and bags on the floor. I wasn't able to find the fiction section! I found sectionson mysteries, sci fi, classics, and YA novels but could could not find a section of literary/conetmporary novels. I came away with only one book, a bio of Anne Boleyn by Eric Ives that I have had on my wish list for a few years. When I paid for it, I asked the salesperson where fiction was, and he said it was "Modern Literature" on the third floor. I was too hot (no A/C, and every floor I went up was hotter than the last) to go back up. I think I saw it, but to me, "Modern Literature" means classic stuff from the earlier 20th century: T. S. Eliot, Hemingway, James Joyce, etc. But I'll go back someday.

55. Venetia by GFeorgette Heyer.

This is the first Georgette Heyer novel that I've either read or listened to, although she has been recommended to me many times. I listened to an audio version, masterfully narrated by Richard Armitage; my only regret is that it was an abridged version. Overall, it was a nice bit of fluff, perfect for listening to while on a long drive. Generally, I don't care much for romances, but this was more like a witty Jane Austen romance instead of either gushy drivel or a bodice-ripper. Venetia is a sheltered young woman, shut away in a country home by her father after her mother's death. She (and everyone else) fears that she will end up a spinster as she has reached the ripe old age of 25 and is still not engaged; she has two suitors, but neither appeals to her independent spirit. But then the handsome local rake, Lord Damerel steps into her life . . .

As I said, there were a lot of elements that reminded me of an Austen novel: Venetia's care for her lame younger brother; the arrival of her elder brother's pregnant wife and her mother, who plan to take over the estate; Venetia's witty exchanges with Damerel and her brother Aubrey; the bumbling suitors. The novel has many twists and turns as well--it's not written according to a formula, as are so many novels of this genre. It's not great literature, but its a good, fun read.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

>150 Cariola:: yeah, you have to really hunt for the fiction, it's definitely out of the way. The last time I was there, it was November or December, and cold outside. It was no more comfortable in the modern fiction section -- brrr! It's clear their emphasis is on other types of books, but I did snag 7 Viragos there once so you never know. I'm glad you enjoyed your trip!

#150: Sorry to hear that your haul was not more extensive, but I am glad you got a book that was on your wish list for such a long time!

I get overwhelmed in places like that too. My brain just starts arcing and sparking, on overload. I have to have a list of what I would like and then ask for help finding them.

Winterthur and the light installation at Longewood were awesome!

Oh I'm so glad you saw the Light installation! We went one evening in June but unfortunately there was a thunderstorm so we didn't see as much as we'd hoped. Although that inspired us to get a membership because then we could visit anytime, without timed tickets.

56. Wild Dogs by Helen Humphreys

I am a huge fan of Helen Humphreys' novels, having read and adored The Frozen Thames, Coventry, Afterimage, and The Lost Garden. No one writes more beautifully, and few writers have such poignant insights into the human spirit. Those are characteristics apparent in Wild Dogs, too, although its plot is quite a turn from what I've come to expect from Humphreys.

Each night a group of six very different people meet at the edge of the woods behind Cooper's farm. There's Alice, a sad loner who has recently left her boyfriend; Walter, an elderly man who was recently widowed; Jamie, a 15-year old who believes that his stepfather hates him; Malcolm, an eccentric 40-year old who lives with his mother; Lily, a young woman who was brain-damaged in a childhood accident; and an expert on wolves. Though very different, they all have something in common: their former pets are now part of a wild dog pack. Some ran off, some were dropped off by family members who couldn't or wouldn't keep them. And each night their owners gather in hopes of catching a glimpse of their dogs, calling to them in hopes that their calls might be answered. These six people, all emotionally damaged and, like the dogs, in hiding for reasons of their own, form a tenuous pack of sorts--a pack that, like that of the dogs, can be both supportive and destructive.

Humphreys begins with a lengthy narration of events by Alice, but in the end, each of the six characters (plus the father of one) gets the chance to summarize what happened from his or her perspective. Each of their lives has been deeply changed by their shared experience. Although Wild Dogs is harsher and darker than Humphreys's usual fare, it nevertheless shines at its heart with a small glimmer of hope and the sense that we might, if we dare to risk it, be one another's salvation.

4 out of 5 stars.

Oh boy! A new Humphreys! Excellent review, Deborah, thanks! Three apostrophes in a row, I know.

I just love her writing. Nobody evokes a mood quite the way that she does.

Wild Dogs was the first Helen Humphreys book I read and I loved it!

You are so right! She is a marvelous writer.

Another Helen Humphreys that I have to look for! Thanks!

57. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller.

I didn't expect to care much for this book as I'm not all that interested in Greek myths and heroes--but what an unexpected surprise! I am so glad that I listened to the recommendation of other LTers and decided to give The Song of Achilles a go. Once I started, it was impossible to put it aside--a rare enough occurence, but rarer still when you already know how the story will end. That can only be attirbuted to Madeline Miller's gift for storytelling. Gone are the sometimes stilted characterizations of the original (due in part, no doubt, to weak translations). While the heroes here remain monumental, they are also complex men whose thoughts and emotions are all too human. Miller never lets us forget that Achilles himself is the son of a goddess, but we also see within him the vulnerability of the human condition.

The familiar story is narrated by Patroclus, Achilles's best loved companion. The son of a king sent into exile for making a tragic but shameful mistake, Patroclus befreinds the admired Achilles at the age of twelve. Miller takes us through their upbringing at the court of Peleus and their training with the centaur Chieron and on through the Trojan War, where both eventually meet their final fates. She fleshes out not only the shadowy character of Patroclus but also Thetis, Achilles's goddess-mother, his father Peleus, Chieron, Odysseus, Menalaus, Briseis, and others; and she even manages to make the exhausting battle scenes thrilling.

Perhaps the best compliment I can give to The Song of Achilles is that it has made me want to reread The Iliad. A truly remarkable read, well worth five stars and more.

5 out of 5 stars.

Isn't it wonderful? So glad you enjoyed it.

Great review of The Song of Achilles, Deborah. I hope to soon snag the library e-book. Over the last several years, I have attended a few lectures and dramatic readings from The Iliad that were very interesting and prompted me to purchase my own copy, although it still sits waiting. Hearing it "performed" gives it a whole new dimension.

164> Actually, I listened to the audiobook. The reader, Frazier Douglas, was wonderful! Now I want to read the book in print as well.

58. The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce

After receiving a letter from a former coworker announcing that she is dying of cancer, Harold Frye leaves home to post his reply. But when he reaches the postal box, he keeps on walking, believing that he can keep Queenie alive, at least until he reaches her bedside. Along the way, he meets a number of kindly people (and some not so kind) and sparks national interest. And he begins to reminisce about his life with his estranged wife and son.

I liked this book well enough but didn't love it. Many have compared it to Major Pettigrew's Last Stand, but aside from both main characters being men in late middle age, I see little similarity. There was a lot of wry humor in Helen Simonson's novel, her characters were much more developed, and, in the end, it was an uplifting story. By contrast, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry seemed bleak, if not downright depressing, although the ending hints at renewal. In addition, the main plot seemd to rely on many previous novels and films: Forrest Gump's walk, the man riding a tractor across country to see his ailing brother, etc.

I listened to this book on audiotape; it was admirably read by Jim Broadbent, with the exception of one particularly jarring mispronounciation ("skeletal," pronounced as "ska-LEE-tul").

3 out of 5 stars.

59. The Giant O'Brien by Hilary Mantel

Mantel has discovered quite an unusual pair in Charles O'Brien, an Irish giant exhibited as a freak in 17th-century London, and John Hunter, the anatomist determined to secure O'Brien's body for his studies. (They are loosely based on real people.) She creates a fascinating but brutal picture of a slice of the underworld, a world where it's not against the law to steal a body from the grave, as long as you leave its garments in the casket; a world where girls as young as nine are auctioned off by pimps, nd no one cares if they get pregnant or are beaten to death; a world where the unfortunate and disabled become forms of entertainment rather than objects of human empathy; a dog-eat-dog world in the truest sense of the phrase.

Charles is a a gentle giant, one with the Irish gift of storytelling. He's smart enough to insist on "terms" with his agent and to keep his purse by his side at all times. Initially trusting of his companions and of the doctor who seems concerned with his failing health, he soon learns the sad truth of living in a world where it's every person for his or her self.

While I was moved by The Giant O'Brien, I can't say that I liked it as well as Mantel's more recent novels (The Cromwell Trilogy). But she has given us a brutally sharp view of life in the so-called Age of Reason.

3.5 out of 5 points.

60. The Man of Property by John Galsworthy

I've been meaning to read The Forsyte Saga for years, having enjoyed both TV dramatizations (1967 and 2002). And even though I know the story, I very much enjoyed this first book in the saga. Galsworthy gives us a lush, detailed view of late Victorian England's upper middle class and their mania for property and respectability. Like every family, the Forsytes have their secrets and black sheep, and that makes them all the more intriguing. The focus here is the ramrod-spined solicitor Soames and his unhappy wife, Irene. Soames had courted Irene more for her beauty than for love, treating her like one of his exquisite objéts d'art. So determined was he to have her that he promised to let her go if she wanted her freedom. And here lies the crux of the story: Irene is dreadfully unhappy, yet Soames refuses to let her go.

Galsworthy has created a cast of one-of-a-kind characters (or if they now seem like sterotypes, they were one-of-a-kind when first created). There are the senior Forsytes, Old Jolyon, James, Roger, and the aunts; the "black sheep," Young Jolyon, who married beneath him and was cut off by his father; Winifred, married to the alcoholic bounder Monty D'Arty; June, Young Jolyon's philanthropic daughter from a first marriage, and her dashing architect fiancé, Philip Bossiney, secretly dubbed by the family "The Buccaneer"; and many, many more.

There's a reason why Galsworthy's novels were so popular--and why not one but two dramatizations have been made. Quite simply, The Forsyte Saga is a jolly good story. I'm looking forward to moving on to the next six books in the saga.

4.5 out of 5 stars.

61. In Chancery by John Galsworthy

This second installment of The Forsyte Saga didn't quite measure up to the first, The Man of Property, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. It is mainly taken up with the marital difficulties of the second generation; Soames's indecision over whether or not to divorce Irene, who left him twelve years earlier, and Winifred's decision to divorce her alcoholic, spendthrift, philandering husband, Monty Dartie. In between we have second cousins Holly and Val falling in love and marrying against their parents' wishes, and Irene, Soames, and Young Jolyn each give love a second (well, in the case of Jolly, third) chance. I missed Old Jolyn and the aunts, and old James grumbles towards death with slightly less charm than previously. But alas, times are moving on: Queen Victoria has passed, and the flower of England are fading away in the first world war. Nonetheless, I liked In Chancery well enough to continue with the series.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

No Bed for Bacon by Caryl Brahms and S. J. Simon

No Bed for Bacon, written in 1941, is believed by some to be the inspiration for the film 'Shakespeare in Love,' but aside from the appearance of a young woman named Viola who disguises as a boy player and falls for Will Shakespeare and the continuing struggle of the company to survive, there's not a lot of similarity. Nevertheless, the novel is a lot of fun. The title character, Elizabeth's taciturn Attorney General, longs to be given a bed in which the queen has slept--apparently a great honor. (Brahms & Simon suggest that he was the model Malvolio.) In between, London is preparing for a celebration marking the sixth anniversary of the defeat of the Spanish Armada, Henslowe and Burbage are scheming to destroy one another's theatres, Sir Walter Raleigh is about to introduce the potato, and the Earl of Essex has big plans of his own. While Shakespeare strives to fulfill a commission to write a play for the celebration, what he is really absorbed with is a new play entitled 'Love's Labour's Wonne.'

It's all in good fun, and I did indeed get some laughs out of it, but I have to admit that, as a Shakespearean, I found myself gritting my teeth at some of the anachronisms. The story takes place in 1594, but Sir Philip Sidney, who appears in several scenes, was killed at Zutphen in 1586--two years before the Armada. The timing of Love's Labour's Lost is right on, but Twelfth Night wasn't written for another six or seven years. And Bacon was not appointed Attorney General until 1613--ten years after Elizabeth's death. I apologize if all that sounds rather pedantic. But as a teacher, what bothers me is not the anachronisms--this is, after all, fiction--but rather that so many readers, especially students, take historical fiction more as historical fact than fiction. But I guess I should take solace in the fact that few of them will be reading a book written in 1941!

Overall, a fun piece of fluff for those who love the Elizabethan period and who are able to separate fact from fiction.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

#170: I am adding No Bed for Bacon to the BlackHole. Since I am not an Elizabethan scholar, I will probably not even notice the anachronisms.

170> Good thinking, Stasia. I'm sure you will enjoy it--really, it was quite fun.

63. Titus Andronicus by William Shakespeare

OK, I already counted this as a read back in January, but I really, truly did read it again along with my students. Since my reading time gets a bit limited during the semester (partly because I am reading so many student papers that I can't count here), I think it's fair to list it again, don't you?

#172: Unfortunately my local library does not have a copy. I checked already.

174> Would you like me to send you my copy?

#170 This has been one of my favourites, along with several others of theirs, and I have read it many times but I had never the noticed the date on which it must have taken place so the anachronisms have never worried me! In Don't, Mr Disraeli they actually comment in the introduction that the novel takes place in the literature of the Victorian period rather than in the Victorian period so perhaps they were trying to avoid complaints of anachronisms this time.

64. NW by Zadie Smith

Let me say first that I listened to the audio version of NW, and while it was masterfully read by Karen Bryson, it's the kind of book that probably is better read in print, due to the various stylistic devices that Smith employs. So I will definitely be reading it again.

Smith does an outstanding job of recreating the multicultural community of northwest London in all its grimness and glory. This is a district whose residents reflect African, Caribbean, Irish, Polish, Italian, Indian, Pakistani, Eastern European, you-name-it backgrounds, as well as a large number of mixed race and multi-ethnic persons. For most, life in NW has been hardscrabble, but two longtime friends, Leah and Keisha (who now calls herself Natalie), have somewhat broken out of the neighborhood. Leah, whose narrative opens the novel, has earned a degree in social work, and her decision has been to return to the neighborhood where she grew up. Long on empathy but perhaps a little short on common sense, Leah finds herself in the opening scene giving 30 pounds to Char, a former schoolmate and obvious junkie who knocks on her door with a story about her mother being taken to hospital. Leah's story reflects her confusion about who she is, where she belongs, what she wants out of life--and her marriage to Michel, a Jamaican immigrant. Natalie, on the other hand, has left the neighborhood and seems to have it all: a law degree, handsome husband, beautiful children, big house, trendy wardrobe. Yet she, too, finds that the ties to NW indeed do bind.

Although these two women are the heart of the novel, two young men, Nathan and Felix, also figure prominently and perhaps reflect the darker side of Leah's and Natalie's efforts to change themselves and the neighborhood. Nathan, once the bad boy every girl had a crush on, has gone over to the dark side, dealing drugs and pimping prostitutes. Felix, on the other hand, is cleaning up his act, due mainly to the love of a good woman that he hopes to marry. Their stories intersect with those of Leah and Natalie and with one another's in unexpected ways.

While there are moments of humor in NW, it is a more mature, more serious novel than Smith's first, White Teeth (which I also loved). Here, the consequences of the characters' choices are more severe, and the abiding influence of life in NW more bleakly inescapable. Overall, NW is a brilliant portrayal of life in London's struggling multicultural community. Smith has given us an original and compelling story. I'm happy to see her back on top of her game.

65. Richard III by William Shakespeare.

Another reread for my Shakespeare class. Don't know if it's "fair" to include the same book twice in one year, but hopefully I will go way over 75 books by December 31.

Great review of NW. Richard III is by my favourite Shakespeare play. It was on the news in the UK yesterday that archeologists think they may have found the body of Richard III under a car park in Leicester.

179> Yes, I saw that! I will have to share it with my students.

66. I Cannot Tell a Lie, Exactly and Other Stories by Mary Ladd Gavell

If you prefer your short stories to be rip-roarin', sexed up, or fantastic, you probably won't appreciate this collection. Gavell's stories are, for the most part, gentle slice-of-life tales of ordinary people; many of them are set in and around the small Texas town where she lived until her death in 1967. I first discovered Gavell's short story "The Swing" (included here) a few years ago, when looking for themed stories for a course I was teaching, and I liked it so well that I sought out more of her work. While "The Swing" remains my favorite, I also enjoyed all of the stories in this collection. They are small stories: a girl gives a doll to someone less fortunate; a couple makes their son's George Washington costume; a farmer's wife dupes a city couple; a family gathers at an old woman's deathbed; a teacher regrets not having praised a child's beautiful handwriting; a woman comes to appreciate the daughter-in-law she initially rejected. There's an apt quote form the Chicago Sun-Times on the cover: Everyone should have this book on their shelf . . . for the pleasure of reading a perfect story again and again. The Random House edition includes a fine introduction by Kaye Gibbons and a short essay by Gavell's son, remembering his mother.

4.5 out of 5 stars.

67. To Let by John Galsworthy

In this third installment of The Forsyte Saga, the missteps of the older generation fall back upon the next. The greatest strength of the series is Galsworthy's masterful creation of Soames Forsyte, a man who, while clearly despicable, also manages to evoke the reader's sympathy. In the first two novels, Soames's first concern was always his reputation--doing what was "right" in the eyes of Victorian society and the law, and holding on to his property with tight fists. Only in a few private moments did we see that he was also a man tormented by deep feelings of passion and rejection.

Eighteen years later, in To Let, Soames has poured all the love he can muster into his only child, Fleur, born of a loveless marriage that was made strictly for the purpose of producing an heir. But his relatively happy life is severely disrupted by a chance encounter: while visiting a gallery, he and Fleur come across his first wife, Irene, her son, Jon, and Jon's half-sister, June. (Irene, after being divorced by Soames, had married his cousin, Jolyn; Jon is their only child, and June is Jolyn's daughter from a first marriage.) Attracted to the young man, Fleur drops her handkerchief to force an encounter in what is probably the most devastating handkerchief loss in literature since Othello. She is surprised when her father exchanges a few words with June but coldly moves them on. All she is told is that these are people from another branch of the Forsyte family and that there had been a rift years ago over "property"--which intrigues Fleur all the more. And so it goes . . .

A thoroughly enjoyable addition to the series; I'm looking forward to the next.

4 out of 5 stars.

68. The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare--reread for my Shakespeare course.

#182 I can tell that you are listening rather than reading from paper! Irene and Young Jolyon's son is Jon, which is short for Jolyon (he was born after Jolly's death). It must be in one of the Interludes that Jon thinks about his name and how to spell it. He knows it isn't spelled 'John' and so tries 'Jhon' but his father explains why it must be 'Jon'. And Winifred and Monty's surname is not as exotic as D'Arty but is plain Dartie.

(I hope this doesn't sound nit-picky. I only mention it because Galsworthy himself made such a point of it, although I do have a bee in my bonnet about it, as my husband's name is Jolyon but he uses Jon for all but official documents.)

OK, corrections made and noted. Yes, I listened to the books on audio.

Just read about a kitten over on Darryl's thread. Any photos? How are your other kitties handling it?

Kerry's nit-picky-ness gives me the nerve to mention that "ska-LEE-tul" is commonly used in many territories, particularly those with a British heritage; it may be jarring but it isn't a mispronunciation. :)

And now to quickly change the subject---yes, kitty photos! Poor little thing, I hope you're both managing.

Hi, Deborah. I wish that I had been reading a lot of what you've been reading. I missed the information about kitties and am off to find out.

The kitty story: Sunday afternoon, I was mowing the lawn and was startled by some movement in the garden. It was a tiny kitten. I figured it belonged to one of the three ferals who hang out around here, so I left it be in hopes that the mama would come for it soon. Four hours later, it was still sitting in the thistles, crying.



So I brought it into the garage and put it in a carrier for the night. (It was fairly warm that night.) I went to Walmart and got some canned kitten food, but the baby was too small to know what to do with it. Nothing was open that would carry kitten replacement milk, but I found a recipe for an emergency formula on the web, mixed it up, and fed it with a syringe.

I was on Fall Break Monday and Tuesday, and it was my hope that I could find a rescue group that had a foster mom for the kitten. I live in a small, one-story, two-bedroom duplex with an unheated garage, no basement, no enclosed porch, and most of the rooms are open (no doors), so the only place I can keep it is a small bathroom. It would not be fair to Jasper and Suki to shut them out of either bedroom, since they sleep with me at night and keep me company when I'm working in my office. (I have to keep them separated because I don't know if the kitten could be carrying a virus, fleas, or worms.) In addition, since I live alone and work full-time, there's no one to share the care with, and the kitten will be on its own for 6-7 hours while I am at work. So it really needs a better environment to be properly socialized and cared for. Jasper and Suki were majorly stressed out but are now starting to calm down and don't pay much attention when I go in to feed it. I think it helps that we're going on with things as normally as possible; I am spending most of my time with them, as usual.

So far, most of the foster groups haven't even bothered to call me back. I finally heard from the group from which I adopted my kitties last year. They have no foster homes available at the moment but may soon. However, the catch is that I will have to get him dewormed, checked for FeLV and FeHIV, and start the distemper shots before they will take him/her (not sure yet which it is). None of the local vets will give discount care for strays being fostered.

So I really am not sure what will happen. I expect this poor little thing will have to spend the next 5 weeks or so in my bathroom, because I will not take it to a shelter that euthanizes, and I will not dump it back outside in the cold weather. Hopefully then I can find it a forever home. It's a very sweet little thing--purrs like mad, and today it started to play for the first time. I think it may have been too weak from not eating.

I will name the kitten when I find out what its gender is for sure. Since it was found amongst the thistles, I'll give it a Scottish name, probably either Fergus or Fiona.

Between work and kitten-raising and calling vets and rescues, I haven't been getting much reading done. I'm about halfway through Joseph Anton on audio and The Stranger's Child in print, both of which are excellent.

Good on you Deborah for rescuing the kitten. My wife and kids took in two a couple of years ago and one of them decided to attempt to fly from our 5th storey apartment. Bambi had a slow, painful and very expensive recovery but Hani (my wife) refused permission to allow the vet to put down the kitty. Whilst not exactly fighting fit (he walks crookedly) he is certainly happy with his lot now and happy with life.
Like Fergus as a name but with your Shakespearean bent I thought MacBeth might have resurfaced!

Aw, sweet Fergus/Fiona! They are lucky to have found you. Good luck finding a home Deborah.

Kudo's to you for saving the kitten. I have 4 grey cats, all were strays. The first two, two sisters, were about 5 weeks old when I first got them. I feed them 4 times a day, coming home at lunch to do so. They are now happy, health and 15 yrs old. You are blessed.

Lovely photo of the kitten, Deborah! And kudos to you from rescuing it from outdoors. Please keep us posted.

What a beautiful kitten! You are a good woman, Deborah, and I wish I were around to help you. We took in our Gray-White family (mother and two kittens) when the kids were only a bit bigger than Fergus/Fiona. I hope that you find a good forever home soon if that's truly what you wish!

It's hard not to get attached to the kitten, and it's obviously starting to get attached to me, but I don't know how I would fit another cat into my small place. I don't know how my daughter does regular fostering; I would find it too hard to give them up. It will be especially hard with this one, since it is being hand-raised.

I took the kitten to the vet today. It's a boy--so henceforth Fergus. He is about 3-4 weeks old and weighs just over a pound. He checked out to be healthy--no fleas or mites, and the FeLV/HIV screening was negative. I am still looking for a foster group to take him--no luck so far.

69. Zeitoun by Dave Eggers
70. The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare

Both rereads for class that I am teaching.

71. Joseph Anton by Salman Rushdie

Joseph Anton is Rushdie's memoir of the years he spent, mostly in hiding, under the Ayatollah Khomeini's fatwa. The fatwa, which was announced on Valentine's Day, 1989, has never been officially revoked; in 1998, the Iranian government proclaimed that it would neither support nor hinder attempts to assassinate the author, but there is still a $3 million-plus bounty on his head. The title of the book is the name Rushdie assumed while in Scotland Yard's protection and is taken from two of his favorite writers: "Joseph" from Conrad and "Anton" from Chekhov. In a recent interview, Rushdie claimed that during this time he felt as if he was watching another person's life from a distance, a person separate from himself--hence the book is written in third person.

It's hard to imagine what life would be like if you were forced to move at a moment's notice--dozens of times. To live with a squad of armed policemen (one of whom accidentally blew a hole through a wall). To be unable to visit a dying parent, have dinner with friends, attend a memorial or an activity at your child's school, or, as a writer, give public readings of your work. Rushdie details all of this, as well as his efforts to live as normal a life as possible. For this, he credits a cadre of trusted friends, including Christopher Hitchens, Paul Auster, Bill Buford, Martin Amis, Ian McEwan, and Bono, among others. Rushdie also engaged in a constant legal battle to get The Satanic Verses distributed worldwide in paperback format.

Of course, Rushdie's personal life suffered during this time. His greatest regret is the difficulty the fatwa caused for his son Zafar, who was 10 at the time it all began. Although divorced from his first wife, Clarissa Luard, the two remained friendly and strove to maintain as normal a relationship as possible for father and son. Marianne Wiggins, his second wife, to whom he was married when the fatwa was pronounced, does not come off so well; in fact, the American writer is depicted as a selfish, self-promoting wacko. Rushdie met his third wife, Elizabeth West, the mother of his second son, while under protection. Initially, West seems almost saint-like in her patience and devotion, but this image falls apart as the marriage falters due to her depression over not bearing more children and Rushdie's desire to move to the US, where he felt he could live a more open, normal life. Wife Number Four, model, would-be actress, and reality show host Padma Lakshmi,is referred to as "The Illusion," and Rushdie rather shamefacedly admits to falling into a fairly typical mid-life crisis (homely older man, beautiful younger woman), as well as pursuing a somewhat elusive American dream that she came to represent. Lakshmi, like Wiggins, comes off as self-absorbed and ambitious (when he attempts to visit her in LA after a new threat has been announced, she says she is going on a lingerie shoot), and Rushdie makes short shrift of her.

On the whole, Rushdie's memoir is insightful and engaging. If one thing is made clear, it is that he wouldn't have endured, had it not been for the love, help, and encouragement of his close friends, family, and associates. And it is this humanization of Salman Rushdie, more than his literary achievements or politicized position, that allows readers to relate to his plight.

Note: I listened to this book on audio. The reader, Sam Dastoor, was brilliant, with one caveat: his American accent, which never varied. Whether he was impersonating Bill Clinton, Kurt Vonnegut, George Stephanopoulos, or Susan Sontag, they all sounded like sarcastic cowboys.

4 out of 5 stars.

Great review of Joseph Anton, Deborah. I thought that Rushdie did a fabulous job of giving the reader a sense of his/Joseph's isolation, claustrophobia and unremitting fear of death, and the effects the fatwa had on his past and present wives, his children, and his friends and colleagues. As you said, Marianne Wiggins comes across as an unstable and potentially dangerous wacko, and Padma Lakshmi as a self absorbed bimbo, whereas Elizabeth West and his first wife are lovingly portrayed. He doesn't spare himself from criticism either, although I'd love to hear responses from Wiggins and Lakshmi about their views of Rushdie and this book.

Another interesting aspect of the story was the cowardice shown by several agents and publishers, along with government officials in Britain, particularly those who knuckled under to pressure from radical Muslims and the Iranian government and denounced him.

It's a shame that Rushdie wasn't the reader for the audio version of Joseph Anton. I heard him speak at the Carter Center in Atlanta several years ago, and I was captivated when he read several excerpts from The Enchantress of Florence.

Rushdie reads the preface in the audio version; yes, too bad he didn't read it all. He has a more understated style.

72. Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare. Reread for a course I'm teaching.

What a cute kitten!

He IS adorable. And I have a feeling he will be sticking around . . . none of the rescue groups have room for him. I really don't have room for a third cat, but I am getting attached to him, and so are Jasper & Suki.

>203 Cariola:: oh yay!!!

73. The Stranger's Child by Alan Hollinghurst.

It took me awhile to finish this novel, partly because life has gotten busy, but also because it just isn't the sort of book one rushes through. The prose is lush and needs to be appreciated. And there are little clues to the connections between characters in the four parts that take a bit of thinking to put together.

A family saga of sorts, The Stranger's Child is told in five parts, beginning with the 1913 summer visit of blossoming poet Cecil Valance to Two Acres, the family home of his schoolmate, George Sawle. Hollinghurst creates an atmosphere reminiscent of Atonement: the idle rich, the charming country home, the excessive passions of youth--and of course, the looming prospect of war. Sixteen-year old Daphne becomes enthralled Cecil, and it appears that he, too, is attracted to her; but his real love is her brother.

By 1926, Cecil has died a war hero; like Rupert Brooke, he has become an even more celebrated poet posthumously. Daphne, we find, is unhappily married to his younger brother. She is mother to two children and has fallen for a younger artist, Revel Ralph. Corley Court, the celebrated family estate, is about to be put on the market when the Sawle's--mother, son, and daughter-in law, as well as "Mrs. Cow," Freda's German friend, come for a visit. At the same time, a biographer arrives to interview all who had known Cecil.

The story moves through three more eras: 1967, 1977, and 2008, and Daphne, her descendants, her brother George, and others from the earlier sections appear. New on the scene is Paul Bryant, a semi-educated bank teller with a fascination for Cecil Valance, who dreams of writing a new and more reliable biography.

While The Stranger's Child is indeed a family saga, it's also something of a mystery, as well as a meditation on memory and truth and a commentary on class, celebrity, love, and endurance. A little slow at times, the book was nonetheless an enjoyable read. I do have to agree with other LT readers who were disturbed not by the homosexuality in the novel but by the fact that one comes away thinking that, here, only gay couples truly know how to love; the heterosexual couples are all cruel, self-seeking and/or unfaithful in their relationships. The reverse stereotype is a bit hard to swallow and rather unrealistic.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

74. Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare.

Reread for my Shakespeare course.

75. The White Monkey by John Galsworthy

The White Monkey is the third novel in Galsworthy's The Forsyte Saga. Soames is still with us, but he's getting on, and the story is moving more into the lives of Fleur and her husband, Michael Mont. Their marriage is threatened by a good friend's passion for Fleur, and Soames's financial stability is threatened by a bad decision made by the manager of the brokerage board upon which he sits. Galsworthy has brought in several lower class characters who are potentially more interesting than the extended Forsyte clan. Bickert, a clerk at Michael's publishing firm, is caught stealing books; he is selling them to provide for his young wife, Victorine, who is recovering from a serious bout of pneumonia. Their struggle to get by after his firing is more engaging than the Fleur's whining (although at several points I just wanted to whack Tony, who couldn't seem to get past his own pride to see how much his wife loved him). A second young clerk, Butterfield, is followed less closely; he is the one who broke to Soames evidence of the corruption of Mr. Elderson, the brokerage manager. Like Tony, he, too, is fired, but ironically, it's for his honesty.

While I enjoyed this novel, I don't find the younger set and their 'modern problems' to be as interesting as the old guard. Nevertheless, I will continue with the series.

3.5 out of 5 stars

76. Othello by William Shakespeare.

Reread for my Shakespeare course.

77. The Edge of the Earth by Christina Schwarz

I remembered liking Schwarz's Drowning Ruth when I read it years ago, so I was looking forward to The Edge of the Earth. Sadly, I was greatly disappointed. Perhaps it's that my reading tastes have changed . . . but I really don't think this is a very good book. The characters are stereotypes and the plot is predictable; the writing itself is rather pedestrian. I had to really push myself to plod through it, since I was writing a review for Book Browse.

The novel begins and ends in the present day. An elderly woman, who apparently lived in the now-famous St. Lucia lighthouse years ago, comes to visit with her grandson. As the tourists travel up the path, she prides herself on how much more she knows than their guide, and she launches into the central story. It's 1898, and young Trudy Swann travels with her new husband, Oskar, from Milwaukee to the California coast, where he has taken a job as assistant to the lighthouse keeper. Trudy is suitably naive and, of course, has a talent for science--particularly marine life identification and drawing--that no one has appreciated. As for Oskar, what is meant to be a rebellious nature comes off rather as petulant and spoiled. The family who lives at the lighthouse is, of course, made up of cranky oddballs, but, of course, their crankiness is only there to cover deep, dark family secrets--secrets that really aren't all that surprising. The Crawleys have a hoard of children who are a bit wild but sweet and eager to learn. But they know things that Trudy does not, and they have a collection of strange 'gifts' left to them by 'the mermaid.'

I won't go into this any further and spoil (if possible) the 'discoveries' for other readers. At this point, I became very irritated with the book--not just because what happens is so irritating (it is), but because it was so predictable and so obviously aimed at tugging at the reader's emotions and making a 'big statement'. (Can you feel the hammer?)

Another reviewer mentioned that those who enjoy Oprah selections would probably like this book. I'm not one to automatically pan anything Oprah recommends, as some do; in fact, I've enjoyed many of her selections, including Drowning Ruth. But The Edge of the Earth certainly wasn't worth the time it took me to plod through it.

1 out of 5 stars. I might have rated it a little higher, but I was really irritated that so many better books were waiting while I struggled to finish it.

Congrats on passing 75!

210> Thanks! I'd like to make 100, but I think I'm more likely to hit about 85 by the year's end.

Congratulations, Deborah!

Have a safe flight to Nashville tomorrow.

Congratulations on surpassing the 75 goal. Happy Thanksgiving. I hope your trip was a good one and that by now you are with family in Nashville.

Happy Thanksgiving, Deborah!

78. The Finishing School by Muriel Spark

The Finishing School, while not earth-shaking literature, was a good bit of fun: I laughed out loud at several points. A young couple, Nina and Rowland, with dubious finances run College Sunrise, a third-rate finishing school that moves to a new location every year. Rowland, who teaches creative writing, becomes obsessed with one of his young students, Chris Wiley, who is writing a novel based on the plot to kill Lord Darnley, husband of Mary Queen of Scots. The more he realizes how good Chris's novel is, the bigger Rowland's own writer's block becomes. While Spark relates other escapades involving other students and Rowland's wife, Nina, his relationship with Chris is this short novel's core.

So--certainly not a "Must Read," and it doesn't compare to Spark's best, but not a bad few hours of entertainment.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

79. A Possible Life by Sebastian Faulks

When I read "Geoffrey," the first of the five 'parts' of this 'novel,' I fully expected to be awed yet again by Sebastian Faulks. Sadly, this was not the case. I was awed by one part ("Geoffrey"), impressed by another ("Billy"), liked a third ("Jeanne") well enough, but two others ("Elena" and "Anya"), quite frankly, bored me to tears. Two great, one OK, two downright bad out of five--hence the two-and-a-half star rating.

"Geoffrey, 1938" is the story of a cricket-loving young man, somewhat of a loner, who falls into a position teaching French at a boys' school. As much out of boredom as a sense duty, he enlists soon after World War II begins. Faulks brilliantly describes the horrors of his war experience; the story haunted me for days. My only criticism would be that the book jacket implies that this is a love story. While there is a woman to whom Geoffrey is attracted who is the impetus of change in his life, this is no Birdsong.

In "Billy, 1859" an impoverished family is forced to send one of their sons to the work house, where he befriends two sisters. The story follows Billy's hardscrabble life for the next 20 years or so. It's a story that was fairly common at the time, a story of struggle, poverty, better times, more poverty, illness, and secrets. What makes it work is the narrative voice, which is straightforward and never self-pitying.

"Elena, 2029." Well, here's where things start to go terribly wrong. Elena is a tomboy with an extensive imagination, a passion for bike-racing, and a gift for science. Her parents worry about her odd habit of spending time in a treehouse hideaway and about the fact that she has no friends. So one day her father brings home Bruno, his newly-adopted son. At first, Elena hates him; then she loves him. He goes away. She becomes a brilliant scientist who helps design a machine that analyzes human emotions in the brain. (A lot of scientific gobbledygook here). I just never connected with either of these characters, and I got incredibly bored with the science stuff, which read like Faulks showing off his research.

In "Jeanne, 1822," we meet another impoverished person, an orphan who is taken into a wealthy household as a servant/nanny for nothing more than the cost of her bed and board. It's mostly another slice-of-life piece: Jeanne loves her charges, but Clémence becomes aloof as she ventures into society, and Marcel changes due to his war experiences.

"Anya, 1971." What can I say? I hated it. To me, it read like the author's middle-aged fantasy: commune-living hippie back-up band member/music producer Jack meets beautiful, mysterious (and, of course, extremely sexy and free-loving) folk rocker girl destined for stardom. Lots of drugs, sex, gin, and rock and roll, plus infidelity and burnout. These stereotypical characters struck me as insipid, self-centered, and foolish from the beginning, and I didn't care what happened to any of them. I felt like I was reading Faulks's indulgence in what he felt he missed out on in his now-fading youth. The inclusion of sappy lyrics that were supposed to be brilliant was equally irritating.

So . . . how are these five stories linked to make, as the title claims, "a novel"? The connections are pretty slim. Yes, each of these main characters makes choices that change their lives--but is that a theme? Isn't that what life (not to mention novels) is all about? A few references recur: Cheeseman, one of Geoffrey's students, returns as a lawyer in "Anya"; a lunatic asylum goes through various reincarnations; the artist Egon Schiele gets mentions in two stories. There simply aren't enough interconnections between the five parts to call it a novel.

Overall, a big disappointment, salvaged by the first two parts. I hope Faulks gets his game back for his next novel. I've read enough of his good ones that I'll give him another try.

2.5 out of 5 stars.

Oh that's a shame. I loved Faulks' Birdsong and was intrigued by this one.

217> Me, too! I've read and liked three or four of his other novels and was looking forward to this one. At least it was a quick read. Darryl (kidzdoc) is finishing it up today, and so far, we seem to be of the same opinion on the first three sections. I'll be interested to see what he thinks of "Anya" . . .

Here's a review by Helen Dunmore that is a bit kinder but still rather noncommittal.

As I mentioned in my thread I completely agree with Deborah's assessment of A Possible Life. Two good stories, one mediocre one, and two horrible ones.

Deborah, sorry your recent read wasn't as good as you would have liked. I hope you had a lovely Thanksgiving holiday!

80. The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton

The Forgotten Garden is a multi-generational mystery that takes place on two continents (three, if we count a brief sojourn in America) over more than 100 years, from Victoria's England to 21st century Australia. The mystery begins when Cassandra's grandmother and antique shop partner, Nell, passes away and leaves her the deed to a cottage in Cornwall. When and why had her grandmother gone to England. and why had she purchased a house there, only to return to Australia? The answer: to find out who she was. And now Cassandra embarks on the same journey.

Morton unpeels the layers of the story through alternating chapters set in alternating times that focus on Nell, Cassandra, young aristocrat Rose Mountrechet, and Eliza Makepeace, known as "The Authoress." It's an interesting structure, and Morton is a very competent writer. As a mystery (which I don't usually read), it kept me engaged, and although I figured out what was going on about halfway through, there were enough missing details to make it worth finishing the book.

Don't let my 3.5 rating deter you: I suspect that I would have rated this book much higher a decade ago, but my taste in books has changed considerably.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

Forgot the last one I reread for my classes:

81. The Tempest by William Shakespeare

82. Why Can't I Change? How to Conquer Your Self-Destructive Patterns by Shirley Impellizzeri

This book provided a lot of insights, and yes, I did recognize myself in many of the author's examples. I'm less sure that the strategies for overcoming one's learned reactions are helpful; sixty-plus years of avoidance and shutting down emotions won't easily be overcome. Nonetheless, I would recommend this book to anyone struggling to understand why they have such difficulty forming healthy relationships.

3.5 out of 5 stars

Happy Holidays to you Deborah!

I've added your recent read to my tbr pile.

Kitten Update

Fergus is still here. The rescue outfit has finally said they will arrange for him to be neutered before putting him up for adoption. The woman is asking if I REALLY want to give him up. The head says yes, the heart says, I don't know. Three cats is a lot of cat in my small place--as is becoming more apparent the bigger he gets. When he's naughty, I remember how peaceful it was with just Jasper and Suki. But when he's being adorable, I'm less sure I want to let him go. Have to make a decision soon . . . .

Oh my, he's so adorable. I'm sure it's a tough decision!

Deborah, wishing all the best to you and your loved ones this holiday season and beyond! Good luck making the right choice for you in respect to the little furry one.

Merry Christmas, Deborah! I look forward to meeting you in person at the Philadelphia spring meet up.

"

83. The Secret Life of William Shakespeare by Jude Morgan

As a Shakespearean by profession, I’ve read many works of fiction centered on the life of William Shakespeare. Most of them are pure drivel. Those by Robert Nye, in fact, so disgusted me that I trashed them rather than passing them on to some poor unsuspecting reader. But Jude Morgan is one of my favorite historical fiction writers, so I had high hopes for his latest book—and it did not disappoint. The title—which suggests something raunchy—is rather inappropriate; but I had experienced the same issue with the first Morgan book I read, Passion, which sounds more like something by Danielle Steele. Who would have guessed that it was a brilliant novel about the Romantic poets?

Instead of focusing solely on Will’s rise to fame, Morgan gives equal attention to his wife Anne. Too many authors take the easy way out, depicting the 26-year old pregnant Anne as the seducer of the much younger glover’s son (he was 18), who later turns into a wife so shrewish that her husband has few qualms about leaving her and his three children in Stratford while he pursues fame and fortune on the London stage. Or a greedy woman content with her husband’s long absences as long as he keeps sending home the gold coins. But Morgan takes a different path. He shows us the couple, each of whom is dissatisfied with life in the parental home, falling in love—and we believe it. And ironically, it is Anne’s love for Will that allows him to leave for London: he has told her that he will stay if she asks him to, but she realizes the strength of his desire for the stage and wants him to be happy. Either way, she will lose a part of him, but she believes it would be better to bear his absence and retain his love than to live day-to-day with his resentment and fading affection. But Will’s brief visits home are nearly as difficult as his long absences as Anne senses that he has become a changed man. At one point, she and the children move to London to live with Will, but almost as soon as they arrive, it becomes apparent that this was a mistake. The noise, the filth, the unhealthy air, the lack of friends, the ever-present violence, Will’s late nights, the company meetings in their house that keep the children awake—all this soon drives Anne and the children back to Stratford. On parting, their division becomes even stronger when Will says, “I have tried, Anne”—his tone clearly implying that she has not. Events follow that all but cement the differences between them, yet a small glimmer of what was ultimately remains.

Morgan’s depiction of Will’s life in London’s theatre world is low-key when compared to other novels, but he brilliantly characterizes Shakespeare’s cohorts: Burbage, Kempe, Tarleton, Kyd, Dekker, Nashe, Middleton, and most especially Marlowe and Jonson. It is the sly Marlowe who questions Will’s self knowledge (“So, who is Will? And what is he for?”) and provokes him to delve for the truth. And it is the stolid Jonson who encourages him to look beyond pleasing the masses to pursue a higher, everlasting truth in his work. But Will must find his own way, even if it leads to a divided self.

This is perhaps the best Shakespeare-based novel that I have read, and I highly recommend it to anyone curious to know more about the holes in his biography, especially his marriage to Anne Hathaway. Although the facts may be questionable, Morgan has done his research, and the emotional lives he portrays are as complex and recognizable as are our own.

4.5 out of 5 stars.

The Secret Life of William Shakespeare sounds like a good read! Thanks for the tempting review.

84. Learning to Talk by Hilary Mantel

This short collection of five stories is, sad to say, somewhat lackluster. In fact, the best past of the book was the last section, a preview of Mantel's memoir, Giving Up the Ghost, which I look forward to reading in full. The stories all depict episodes in the lives of children growing up in dreary villages in the north of England in the 1950s. They struggle with class barriers defined by their vowels, names, broken families, and aspirations. Apparently, Mantel was following the mantra of creative writing instructors everywhere: write what you know. She's much better, I think, as a historical novelist. The stories do have their moments of originality and humor, but I found them fairly bleak for the most part.

3 out of 5 stars.