RidgewayGirl Reads in 2015 -- Part One

There's something about a fresh year. I'd put up old political cartoons about suffragettes in 2014 and enjoyed tracking them down, so this year I thought I'd try posting sexist advertising. There's no shortage. It was that or advertisements using babies drinking hard liquor or handling firearms. There are plenty of those as well.

This year's goal is to increase the percentage of women authors to at least 60%. And that's it. My reading has been a mixture of the noteworthy, the proven classic and pure junk. I don't expect that to change.

In addition to book reviews, I'll also be posting reviews of art exhibitions and museum visits. Munich has a quantity of excellent art museums, from the enormous to the tiny, with an busy schedule of temporary exhibits. Writing about what I've seen keeps me from mixing them up and forgetting what I saw.



Currently Reading



Recently Read



Recently Acquired

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Read in 2015

January
Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons
The Handsome Man's Deluxe Cafe by Alexander McCall Smith
The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson
The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace by Jeff Hobbs
In Matto's Realm by Friedrich Glauser
Lovely, Dark, Deep by Joyce Carol Oates
Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel
Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer
The Prestige by Christopher Priest
Being Mortal by Atul Gawande

February
All the Birds, Singing by Evie Wyld
After I'm Gone by Laura Lippman
A Thread of Grace by Mary Doria Russell
Dept. of Speculation by Jenny Offill
The Silkworm by Robert Galbraith (J.K. Rowling)
Adam by Ariel Schrag
Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng
Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes
Us by David Nicholls

March
The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins
Longbourn by Jo Baker
Stone Mattress: Nine Tales by Margaret Atwood
Mansfield Park by Jane Austen
So You've Been Publicly Shamed by Jon Ronson
Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay
The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters
Outline by Rachel Cusk

Starring your thread, Kay. I'm looking forward to seeing the advertisements you choose. As for the Van Heusen guy, don't you just want to shake him?

>1 RidgewayGirl:

Who on earth lies in bed in a shirt and tie? Is that some kink I haven't heard of?

>4 VivienneR:

But the tie is so helpfully provided for a bit of impromptu strangling!

:)

This is gonna be another great thread.

Starring your thread, Kay.

That advert is just so "Mad Men".

>1 RidgewayGirl: Excellent goal. It's a bit sad that one has to determine to read a greater proportion of female authors, isn't it? Love the ad. I can't help but notice she's kneeling.

>5 LolaWalser: LOL! Perhaps PJs don't carry enough authority?

You just want to get my heart started, don't you, posting those advertising pictures.

I couldn't watch Mad Men because I experienced way too much of the sexist attitude and the series brought to mind too many situations I'd rather not remember.

No doubt I'll make some snarky comments about these. Be prepared! :)

Wow. That ad is beyond belief, especially the woman's submissive posture. I can't imagine that the older women in my family (my mother, aunts, great-aunts or grandmothers) would have ever given a thought to doing anything like that. Any idea when it came out, Kay?

Can't wait to see what you read in 2015, and here's an ad for you:

>10 mabith: oh, another "so awful, it's good" ad. :)

>10 mabith: If my father said that to my mother he would be wearing the contents of that pan.

Hi, everyone! Mad Men era advertising provides a wealth of choices for me. They're not that different from the political cartoons of fifty years earlier.

It really is incredible to think that that advertising actually existed and appealed to people/men? to whom it was directed.

10 -

I must admit that advert made me laugh and brought back some memories. I wanted to cook a nice meal for my boyfriend since he was a chef and always did the cooking. When he arrived he found me crying over the rice I ruined and laughed at my over emotional response to rice. I was going through that time of the month so he comforted me and the second batch of rice ended up being the best rice I had ever cooked.

>15 lilisin: I have definitely cried over food and been comforted with alcohol before. Christmas 2012 I forgot to add baking powder to biscuits I was making (the first and only time I've ever done that) for the whole family, and I was so incredibly upset (while my mom was trying not to laugh at my reaction). That ad mostly amuses me, and doesn't rank too highly on the "what were they thinking" scale.

It's going to be great watching these ads, and I do think we should allow ourselves to be amused by some of them. After all, some of them where meant to be funny, not taken seriously. But I agree the Van Heusen ad is appalling and the man looks a complete idiot. The ads are useful in reminding ourselves of what life used to be like not all that long ago, and how most people accepted these things as normal.

The BBC recently showed a programme called "It Was All Right In The Seventies", which consisted of clips from perfectly respectable British programmes which were broadcast in the 1970s but by modern sensibilities are just shockingly, jaw-droppingly, sexist, racist, etc. Tracking the representation and acceptability of gay men on tv through the decade was also interesting. If you get a chance to see it, do.

I work with someone who has just turned thirty and has no knowledge of the Mad Men era, let alone the seventies, and it makes it difficult for her to understand things happening now as a consequence of what people did then. So, lest we forget, bring on more of those ads!

(I still rather hanker after one of those frilly edged half aprons, but I can't think of a reason to wear one. Were people messier back then? Were their clothes harder to clean?)

O, I get stuff all over me when I cook. I wear a full apron, although I'm keeping my eye out for a nicer one. On the other hand, at least I have never burnt the beer.

Happy New Year!

Jan Constantine (sp?) does (or did) a full apron with retro embroidery on the pocket. Possibly an apron to be kept for best.

>20 Oandthegang: I always wonder about embroidery on dish towels for that reason. No hand embroidery would survive the way I use dish towels, even if I only ever dried my hands on it!

I always love (cringe at?) the cartoons and ads you find . . . and of your recent acquisitions (in addition to the van de Wetering), I've always loved Cold Comfort Farm.

Yeesh, that first ad!!??? Sounds like there will be a lot of laughing/cringing at some of them. Besides your reading, also looking forward to your reviews of art exhibits.

Books Read by Year of Publication

I thought it might be interesting to see where this leads. Two of the books I'm currently reading were first published in the 1930s. I think that most of the books I read this year will have been published in 2014 or 2015, but it will still be interesting (to me, at least) to see it laid out.

1814 Mansfield Park by Jane Austen
1932 Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons
1936 In Matto's Realm by Friedrich Glauser
1995 The Prestige by Christopher Priest
2005 A Thread of Grace by Mary Doria Russell
2012 The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
2013 All the Birds, Singing by Evie Wyld
Longbourn by Jo Baker
2014 Adam by Ariel Schrag
After I'm Gone by Laura Lippman
Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer
Being Mortal by Atul Gawande
Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes
Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson
Dept. of Speculation by Jenny Offill
Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng
The Handsome Man's Deluxe Cafe by Alexander McCall Smith
The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace by Jeff Hobbs
The Silkworm by Robert Galbraith
Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel
Stone Mattress: Nine Tales by Margaret Atwood
Us by David Nicholls
2015 The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins
So You've Been Publicly Shamed by Jon Ronson

>24 RidgewayGirl: That's an interesting idea, Kay. Most of the books I read last year were from the 19th and 20th centuries, but I did read some newer books, especially nonfiction, but some fiction too.

It is interesting to see the spread of years. That's part of why I still add my books to Goodreads, though I don't participate in groups there - they'll show you a graph of the publication years of your books (but only by year which means you have to enter in a "date read," slightly annoying, but seems easier than looking up everything myself).

Rebecca, we'll see how long I remember to keep it up.

Meredith, I think that if I enter it when I'm adding the book to my thread, it shouldn't be too onerous. I thought about doing this with my 2014 books and then I laughed and laughed.

I tracked by reading by year published a couple of years ago. Last year I looked up and wrote down the publishing date for each book I read and included it in the end of my review, but I never went back and charted them all. Maybe I'll still do that. It is interesting to see what era of books you read most and which you like most.

If you've already gone to the trouble of keeping track of the publication dates, it would be a pity to not see where that takes you.

You already noticed, but I did go through and add it up. I'm always surprised in some way by any stat I track!

Miss Flora Poste would be perfectly at home in a P.G. Wodehouse novel. In temperament, she's more Jeeves than Wooster, but she's a woman who likes to go to dinner and out dancing with interesting companions, and she's aware of the importance of dressing for the occasion. At the beginning of Stella Gibbons' excellent novel, Flora discovers that she possesses every art and grace save that of earning her own living. She determines that her best option is to go and live with relatives and so she ends up arriving at Cold Comfort Farm, in deepest Sussex, aware of nothing but that they feel that they owe her a debt due to some wrong done to her father decades earlier.

Cold Comfort Farm is a damp and depressing place, where emotions run higher than Charlotte Bronte would be entirely at ease with.

Judith's breath came in long shudders. She thrust her arms deeper into her shawl. The porridge gave an ominous, leering heave; it might almost have been endowed with life, so uncannily did its movements keep pace with the human passions that throbbed above it.

"Cur," said Judith, levelly, at last. "Coward! Liar! Libertine! Who were you with last night? Moll at the mill or Violet at the vicarage? Or Ivy, perhaps, at the ironmongery? Seth -- my son..." Her deep, dry voice quivered, but she whipped it back, and her next words flew out at him like a lash.

"Do you want to break my heart?"

"Yes," said Seth, with an elemental simplicity.

The porridge boiled over.

And into this seething cauldron of family passions and unsanitary conditions, marches Flora, who quickly sees that she has her work cut out for her, to bring light and happiness and order to the denizens of Cold Comfort Farm, Howling, Sussex.

A parody of the long forgotten genre of the rural melodrama, Cold Comfort Farm remains as approachable and humorous as it was when it was first published. Really, this was just a great deal of fun to read. Flora is a protagonist worth cheering for and her relentless good will and determination to set things to right have the reader hoping for happy solutions for every dour character.

I'm almost sorry that I got my book club to choose Cold Comfort Farm because it means I won't get to read it until July (well, I could read it sooner, but then I'd have to read it again in July to be able to talk about it).

You'll have something good to look forward to, Meredith. It's really good.

Cold Comfort Farm is a good one, Kay. I read it last year, and really enjoyed it.

As I said above, I love Cold Comfort Farm and reread it every now and then when I need a (sorry about this) comfort read.

Fun review. I own it, but haven't read it.

>1 RidgewayGirl: fun thread, lol I echo both of Darryl's comments.

I've tracked the orig publication date for the last few years. I should do a roundup, but just looking at 2014 motivates me to read something outside the 21st century!

The Handsome Man's Deluxe Cafe is Alexander McCall Smith's fifteenth installment in the Number One Ladies' Detective Agency, and Smith does not deviate from his usual formula. This time, the almost incidental mystery is the identity of a woman who has been taken in by a kind family when she appears claiming amnesia. In the absence of any identification, she'll be deported unless Mma Ramotswe can discover who she is. Mma Makutsi is opening a restaurant and is discovering that she may not be up for the task and Mr JLB Maketoni realizes that he has to fire the feckless, careless Charlie, despite Mma Ramotswe disagreeing with him.

If you like the series, you'll like this one exactly as much as you've liked the previous books.

I still have a few of the Number One Ladies' Detective Agency books to read. Last year I read two of them back to back, and found I didn't enjoy them as much doing it that way. I will try to catch up eventually. I love the descriptions of the scenery and the people.

They do follow a pattern, Colleen. Which is probably more obvious and less comforting when read back to back. But they are fun and are welcome when life is busy and reading is necessarily done only in short bursts with interruptions.

I didn't expect to like The Song of Achilles as much as I did. I didn't expect to like it much at all, it being a well-regarded book about a mythological warrior, whose story was already familiar to me in broad strokes, if not in the details. Not only would there be a lot of battle scenes, but I knew how the story ended. But Madeline Miller tells the familiar story in a fresh way and her love of Greek mythology shows through.

While Achilles himself remains a bit of a cipher, his companion, Patroclus, is vividly real, and it's from his point of view that the story is told. The world Miller writes about is very different from our own, with centaurs and sea-nymphs, myth-makers and men who prefer to die young and violently, but leaving behind a glittering reputation, than to die old and have lived a life of obscure prosperity. But the fears and emotions, Miller tells the reader, were the same, with people struggling to survive and to know what the right thing to do is.

What results is a compelling, unputdownable story. We know the end before we begin, but so does Achilles himself, lending added weight to the decisions he makes. And Patroclus is a worthy narrator, as he changes from an uncertain, tentative boy into a man willing to take risks and make hard decisions.

I really enjoyed The Song of Achilles too, a few years ago. I like what you say about how "The world Miller writes about is very different from our own, ... But the fears and emotions, Miller tells the reader, were the same, with people struggling to survive and to know what the right thing to do is." I suppose that is one of the reasons we read fantasy, sci-fi, historical fiction, etc. - to see places so different from 2015, yet people who are so similar.

Excellent review - you made me want to reread this book.

>41 RidgewayGirl: Kay, your review will push me to finally get to The Song of Achilles which I have on my kindle. Great review.

Nice review of The Song of Achilles. Once get through the OT, i want to dedicate some time to Homer and I'm hoping this will make a nice pairing.

I like your idea of charting your reading by publication date. I always note that date, so it would probably be easy for me to go back and do that for the past five years or so. Fun!

I'm going to steal the publication date tracking, too. I always have it in the post where I put my comments, but I'm going to add it to the "read" list too.

Having just read the Iliad of Homer a couple of months ago, my attention is suddenly attracted to books like The Song of Achilles, which is going straight to the wish list based on your comments. Thanks for bringing it to my attention!

Suzanne and Daniel, I would be very interested in hearing what you think of The Song of Achilles, and comparing it to The Iliad. I'd like to read both The Iliad and The Odyssey now, but I know I won't get to them for a while.

Colleen and Joyce, it's interesting, and now I'm thinking of adding other factors like the nationality of the author. I suspect it could become an ever expanding project, but will make the end of the year stats a breeze!

Cait, I'm holding onto my copy. I was lucky in getting a used copy in excellent shape that is also a signed first edition. I'd be tempted to keep it in any case, as the cover illustration is so striking, but it will be worth keeping to reread.

Brown Girl Dreaming is the story of Jacqueline Woodson's childhood. It's structured as a series of vignettes told in free, unrhymed verse that lends an immediacy to each memory. Woodson was born in Ohio, but grew up in Greenville, SC and Brooklyn, NY in the 1960s and 1970s. There's a great deal about the Civil Rights Act and how it affected her family, as well as about her learning difficulties and how she nonetheless dreamed of being an author.

All of which makes it sound like a very worthy kind of book, which it is, having won the National Book Award. But it's also enjoyable to read. Woodson's memories rely on smells and tastes and sounds as much as any other sense; the feel of the red dust of South Carolina against bare feet, the joy of eating a lemon chiffon ice cream cone on a hot summer's day, the security of having a best friend. This is an immediate and accessible book and Woodson is an excellent companion through both the trials and tribulations of childhood in general and the experience of growing up as an African American during a very specific time in American history.

>47 Poquette: I've moved the opposite way. Having read Song of Achilles and The Penelopiad and enjoyed both of them (SofA especially) I now have both The Illiad and The Odyssey on the TBR pile!

>49 RidgewayGirl:
vignettes;
free, unrhymed verse;
civil-rights era childhood.

Onto the wishlist!

>50 Helenliz: My only regret is that I waited so long to read Homer. I should have read them decades ago, and I wish I would take the time to read them again because so much of our literary heritage grows out of these two epics. I was amazed at all the literary references I recognized, and not merely the obvious ones. It is difficult to explain but I am sure you'll see what I mean when you get to them.

>50 Helenliz: >52 Poquette: I've been putting off reading Homer for too long. I've asked this before, but perhaps not here: do you recommend any particular translations?

>53 rebeccanyc: I read Robert Fagles' Iliad and Robert Fitzgerald's Odyssey. These are two very different translations although they are both in blank verse. I found Fagles easier to follow although I warmed up to Fitzgerald as I went along. I used Samuel Butler's prose translation extensively to help me with Fitzgerald's Odyssey, and I had it handy for Fagles' Iliad but never used it.

Bottom line, off hand I would recommend Fagles as the most transparent contemporary translator. If it matters, the reason I didn't read both in Fagles' translation is that I read the Odyssey first. I happened to have the versions I read on hand which is why I happened to read Fagles' Iliad.

If I may be so immodest, you can read my Robert Fitzgerald Odyssey review here in which I talk about translation, and my Robert Fagles Iliad review here. There are other long-winded reviews as well which may or may not be helpful. ;-)

The Fagles has been recommended to me before, so I think they're the ones I'll get. I'm warming up to read them this year. And thanks for the link to your reviews -- always a pleasure to read.

And the compulsion to compile more and more statistics of negligible meaning continues:

Nationality of Author

American
Atul Gawande (Being Mortal)
Jeff Hobbs (The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace)
Laura Lippman (After I'm Gone)
Madeline Miller (The Song of Achilles)
Celeste Ng (Everything I Never Told You)
Joyce Carol Oates (Lovely, Dark, Deep)
Jenny Offill (Dept. of Speculation)
Mary Doria Russell (A Thread of Grace)
Ariel Schrag (Adam)
Jeff Vandermeer (Annihilation)
Jacqueline Woodson (Brown Girl Dreaming)

Australian
Evie Wyld (All the Birds, Singing)

British
Jane Austen (Mansfield Park)
Jo Baker (Longbourn)
Stella Gibbons (Cold Comfort Farm)
Paula Hawkins (The Girl on the Train)
David Nicholls (Us)
Christopher Priest (The Prestige)
Jon Ronson (So You've Been Publicly Shamed)
J.K. Rowling (The Silkworm)
Alexander McCall Smith (The Handsome Man's Deluxe Cafe)

Canadian
Margaret Atwood (Stone Mattress: Nine Tales)
Emily St. John Mandel (Station Eleven)

German
Friedrich Glauser (In Matto's Realm)

South African
Lauren Beukes (Broken Monsters)

And the compulsion to compile...

Well, of course!

Nice reviews of The Song of Achilles and Brown Girl Dreaming, Kay. I loved both books as well.

Thanks for your review of Brown Girl Dreaming, Darryl. I'd keep running into it, but the idea of a memoir told in verse had me sure I'd dislike it. Instead, it turned out to be fantastic.

I know the street where her grandparents' house was - it's just on the other side of a ravine from the YMCA my kids played soccer at. That part of Greenville (the old part) is interesting in that there are a bunch of big homes and then tucked in the streets behind them, are the smaller houses where "the help" lived. The Woolworths that her grandmother wouldn't shop at is the same one that Bone breaks into in Bastard Out of Carolina. It no longer exists, but everybody knows where it used to be.

I picked up The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace by Jeff Hobbs because I kept running into it and it seemed like it might broaden the perspective I picked up in The New Jim Crow. The book tells the story of Robert Peace, who was born to a single mother in a particularly bleak part of NJ. He may have been born into poverty, but he was also born to a father who loved him and even after he was arrested and given a life sentence for murder, would call and help his son with his homework. His mother was determined to give him every advantage she could, working long hours in order to send him to a private Catholic school, where the teachers were dedicated to helping each student succeed. But what Robert Peace really had going for him was a fierce intelligence and a strong work ethic. It got him into Yale, where he met the author of this book, who was his roommate for all four years.

The author was a friend of Robert Peace, although it was only after Peace's death, as he researched the book, that he really got to know him. Previously, it seems as though Hobbs, who was white and from a privileged background, was more an admirer of Peace, who sailed through Yale with an insouciance that allowed him to both deal and consume marijuana while working in a chemistry lab and majoring in one of the most demanding science majors Yale had to offer. It seemed that Peace would succeed at anything he set his mind to.

But Peace was living for the first time in an almost entirely white environment, one in which his peers were generally wealthy and entitled, only to return to another world when school was not in session. He was adept at "facing"; presenting a different personality to each world he encountered, but it took a toll. He would end up being primarily known at Yale as the Black guy from Newark, while in an increasingly dangerous suburb of Newark, he was careful to hide his Ivy League education.

The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace is a fascinating book about a complex and interesting person. Hobbs liked Peace a great deal, and the book reflects that friendship, while not glossing over Peace's faults and miscalculations. While I wish that the outcome had been better and don't think that Peace couldn't have made better decisions, there's no question that he was a remarkable individual and his fate is one worth reading about.

I see you are currently reading Er ist wieder da. I'm curious to see your opinions on it as that book has attracted my attention time and time again due to that amazing cover. Probably the most striking cover of 2014 I find.

It's a gorgeous cover, lilisin. I'm enjoying it, but it's slow going, and the book has currently migrated to my SO's side of the bed.

Excellent review of The Short and Tragic life of Robert Peace

I've looked at the Robert Peace book in the store and am not sure that I will read it, but I appreciated your review.

Great review of The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace, Kay. I was born and grew up in nearby Jersey City, where we lived until we were 13, but my circumstances were considerably better that his were. I'll almost certainly read it later this year.

It's interesting how in NJ the relatively affluent areas abut the poverty-stricken ones. My SO was born in Summit, in a comfortable area, but that's just a few miles from Newark.

Friedrich Glauser is a German writer who spent much of his life in psychiatric hospitals before dying at the age of 42. Glauser is also a classic crime novelist and Germany's crime fiction award is called the Glauser Prize.

In Matto's Realm is part of a series involving Detective Studer, this installment taking place in a Swiss psychiatric hospital. The director and a patient have gone missing and Studer, who has been demoted and disgraced, has been sent there to discretely make inquiries. The acting director has requested him personally. What Studer walks into is a complicated web of close, but not always friendly, relationships, with each person hiding something, none more than the enigmatic acting director, a psychiatrist who alternates between seemingly sincere friendship and a smiling mask.

First published in 1936, In Matto's Realm shows the living and working conditions in a supposedly modern institution. Glauser also says quite a lot about the difficulty the ordinary working man had in just making ends meet, and how that was often an insurmountable task. He has great sympathy for ordinary men broken by circumstance. In this, the book is interesting and an important memory of the past. On the other hand, the mystery itself was convoluted and required a lengthy explanation at the end of the book, which is where most of the action occurs.

This is a worthwhile book if you're interested in Europe during the interwar years or in the history of the German mystery novel. Nonetheless, as a crime novel it falls short, although there are a few intriguing characters and Glauser writes with real empathy for the people at the bottom of society.

When I started reading your review I was wondering how a German crime novel compared with a British, American, or Scandinavian one. Not very well it would seem.

Bas, it was published in 1936. Of course, the contemporary German crime novel I read last year (Snow White Must Die by Nele Neuhaus) was really dreadful, but no more dreadful, really, than that sort of quickly written stuff that will automatically become a bestseller in the US.

As a crime novel, In Matto's Realm wasn't great (although I seem to remember a fair number of Agatha Christie's that ended with a longish explanation of the crime, so maybe it's a feature of the time in which it was written?), but as a look at a psychiatric institution in the 1930s, it was interesting.

Joyce Carol Oates's short stories are unsettling and often have a creepy feel to them. Her newest collection, Lovely, Dark, Deep, is unsettling, but less creepy than usual. Here, she takes ordinary people and shows them undergoing ordinary ordeals; a retired couple are annoyed by the loud neighbors behind them, a wife discovers that her husband has gotten rid of his bicycle, a young woman goes with her cousin to get a small tattoo. It's in Oates' hands, that these events become menacing and portentous, with the characters unable to change the patterns of a lifetime.

The opening story, Sex with Camel, was my favorite and was the kindest of the stories. In it, a seventeen year old boy accompanies his grandmother to the hospital where she is to undergo some testing. The boy is a typical teenager, with his smart phone and his sly attempts to be a little shocking. His grandmother is also typical, over-dressed for a medical procedure and determined to be casual about their reason for being there. But what shines through is the real affection they hold for one another, despite the years between them.

There are a few stories that return to Oates's favorite themes of women with Daddy-issues and of women living in the shadow of a famous male relative, but here she is allowing her protagonists a bit of rebellion and independence, even if the men haven't altered their expectations. I'm not sure what I think of the title story, however, as it took as its target a real person. I've enjoyed stories that have done that (for example, Lydia Millet's Love in Infant Monkeys), but this story felt mean-spirited, despite footnotes indicating that the story was closely based on a real encounter. The final and longest story, Patricide, was the strongest in a strong collection.

I've become a big fan of Oates's short stories and this collection is an excellent example of what a master at the top of her game can do.

>70 RidgewayGirl: I haven't read any of Oates short stories, and only a couple of her novels. I read Black Water so long ago, that I barely remember it, but I read Blonde more recently, and found her writing fascinating.

Colleen, it took me a few books to get into her mindset (avaland's continuing project to read and report on everything JCO wrote helped with this), but now I'm a fan -- of her short stories, at least. I have a few of her novels that I'd like to read soon. She certainly has a unique world view.

>72 RidgewayGirl:. I have two more of her books to read. Bellefleur, which seems to be liked on LT, and The Falls which seems to have reviews that are so-so. I'll get to them eventually.

Well, this was a surprise. I hadn't expected much from Station Eleven since I'm not a big fan of dystopian novels and I'd already read another book by Emily St. John Mandel and had thought that, while it was written well enough, it was not particularly good. I didn't expect to ever read another book by the author as there really are a lot of books out there. But it was listed for The Morning News Tournament of Books and a few people here liked it a lot, so I started the first chapter and I was hooked.

Hooked in the housework-undone, bills-unpaid, personal hygiene-ignored kind of way.

Station Eleven centers itself around Arthur Leander, an aging actor who has a heart attack on stage while playing King Lear. His collapse coincides with the arrival of a terrible pandemic that leaves very few people alive and those who survive are largely those who managed to isolate themselves while the virus speeds through the world. Afterwards, after those first few chaotic years, the area in which the book is set calms down, although the small communities that form are wary of strangers. The Symphony is a traveling group of actors and musicians who perform classical music and Shakespeare to a world that is gradually forgetting things like the internet and air conditioning.

What makes Station Eleven so compelling is that Mandel is less concerned with the details how people survived physically than with what that survival, coupled with their memories of how the world used to be, had done to them psychologically. What they now value is more interesting to her than the logistics of day-to-day survival (although there is some of that as well). I'm unwilling to give anything away about this book, but I did find it utterly compelling.

Well, that clinched it. Station Eleven is now on my wishlist Kindle.

>75 NanaCC: Same here... despite some interviews from the author.

>74 RidgewayGirl: Very intriguing!

>74 RidgewayGirl: Fantastic review of Station Eleven. I loved it and your review describes exactly why.

>74 RidgewayGirl: It hadn't occurred to me to read Station Eleven until I read your review!

I'm going to have to check out her interviews, Annie. What is more fun than cranky and/or pretentious authors?

Nancy, it was so good, wasn't it? I thought it did a great job of exploring how different people would handle the changed world and setting the action at the before and years after meant that could be looked at without having to spend most of the book describing how the communities formed, how necessities were provided, etc., like most apocalyptic and dystopian fiction. She references The Passage in the book and Cronin kind of does something similar.

Also, what did you think of the ending? And the dog?

I'm just going to take a moment and enjoy the revenge of adding to other people's wish lists; you've all added to mine. Station Eleven is shorter than most of Trollope, however.

What do you think of the new advertisement up at the top of the thread. Love how it combined the infantilization of the wife and endorsed domestic violence. The tie guy looks not so bad in comparison.

>80 RidgewayGirl: http://www.nationalbook.org/nba2014_f_mandel_interv.html :) For some reason they way she kept saying literary in places got on my nerves...

Ha, yes, she seems very New York Writer. But much less pretentious than, say, Franzen. And less convinced she's the next great American Author, like Nicholas Sparks.

There really isn't a definition of "literary fiction", is there? And we do love assigning genres. I would never have called Last Night in Montreal a crime novel, though. It was more MFA with a side of perfect quirky girl the guy cannot forget because she was so perfect and quirky. And the writing was good and I read through the whole thing in a few days, but I never expected to like anything she wrote so much, and really never even thought of reading anything by her again.

MFA? To me that's a master of fine arts, or a museum of ...

You have me very interested in readibg about Robert Peace.

>1 RidgewayGirl: I wonder if the advertisers thought that their image was erotic.

Yeah, that, Daniel. Haven't you noticed that sometimes you can read the first chapter of a literary novel and think, "MFA," flip to the author blurb and find out they went to Iowa or Cornell for an MFA in creative writing? It's by no means all MFA authors, but there is a specific feel to the debut novels of a portion of those holding an MFA degree. For awhile I was picking them up at a ridiculous rate, usually marketed as a fresh new voice in literary fiction.

Bas, have you been reading de Sade again?

>85 RidgewayGirl: no!, that was steventx

>82 RidgewayGirl: Well... I guess there is a reason I do not read either of those two - I might at some point but... :)

See - this is what always gets me. A new author that can write decides to distance themselves from the genres and starts on the whole literary fiction nonsense - and you are right, when you turn to the back the MFA is almost always there. When the novel IS a genre one. For some reason, new authors think that this is a bad thing -- so they simply start explaining how it is not like the others. It goes downhill from there... Just my personal pet rant...

I know, Annie. Do you think that if they lived today, Dostoevsky and Poe would be explaining that they didn't really write crime novels? I think that maybe we do ourselves a disservice by categorizing everything so much. And then worrying about what category we're put into.

Who knows... but then if they were living today, who knows how some of the genres would have looked like and who would have built the genres back in the days (without their influence on subsequent writers... not sure that a lot of other classics would have been around). I think that they would have just called it "novels" and left it at that though... But then, being a genre author sounds like an insult to new authors (or so they believe)...

>85 RidgewayGirl: I knew that Cornell had an MFA in writing, but I didn't know that anyone actually paid attention to it.

Robert

>70 RidgewayGirl: I have not bought that particular collection. I looked at it but there seemed to be a fair bit of older stories, and I feared duplicating. Very glad to have your nice review of it, though!

>74 RidgewayGirl: Great review of Station Eleven, which I bought a few weeks back. I was not familiar with the author but the premise intrigued me (and I am intrigued with post-apocalyptic tales). Sounds like I won't be disappointed when I finally get to it. I have a copy of another post-apocalyptic novel coming out this year that has a big marketing push behind it....The Country of Ice Cream Star by Sandra Newman. And finally, I have the next Mary Doria Russell, a novel of what really happened at the O.K. Corral. (my literary appetites definitely exceed my ability to consume)

>82 RidgewayGirl: re: NY writers. Believe it or not, in recent years I have avoided buying a book if it touts the author as living in Brooklyn, in particular. It suggests to me a certain type of novel (not sure I can articulate what that is though), or a certain kind of literary inbreeding.

I'd somehow missed the changes in ad at the top of your thread. What were Chase and Sanborn thinking???

Lois, I'm going to have to grab a copy of the new Mary Doria Russell, since I liked Doc so much.

I didn't realize that the stories in Lovely, Dark, Deep were pulled from older collections. They were thematically linked, so maybe I should have suspected as much. As a newer fan of her short stories, though, there was no risk of running into something I'd read before.

And, yeah, that NYC thing. If I were a young writer who could afford to do so, I'd certainly migrate to where all the other young literary things were (that Algonquin Round Table mythology!). But I agree that it can lead to a sameness to their writing.

Annie, if the genre marketing thing had never happened, I wonder if the science fiction written, especially in the golden age of science fiction, would have been as inventive or if the world building would have been deemphasized so as to appeal to a wider audience.

O, I wonder if the Chase and Sunburn ad was even noted as being risqué at the time?

Annihilation is the first of a series of novels by Jeff Vandermeer called The Southern Reach Trilogy. It's an excellent and imaginative beginning. Four women, a psychologist, a surveyor, a biologist and an anthropologist, are sent out as the twelfth expedition into Area X, which was abandoned and cordoned off decades earlier due to reasons that are never quite clear. Narrated by the biologist, who has personal reasons for undertaking this dangerous task (the first expedition reported that all was fine, the second shot each other, the third killed themselves...), Annihilation follows the women as they settle into the base camp and set off to survey the surrounding area.

Annihilation is a frightening and thought-provoking book. The biologist is an isolated and stand-offish personality, which is reflected in how the story is told. The other characters remain cyphers and the biologist herself is difficult to understand, as the environment influences the way the four women interact and behave. There is a sense of foreboding to this story, which the flashbacks to the biologist's earlier life enhance.

To me, Annihilation read less like a stand-alone novel than as the first section of a larger book. It's short and there are so many questions left unanswered and issues left introduced but unexplored that I'm left dissatisfied. The rest of the story was also published in 2014, which leads me to think that there was some sort of marketing decision that publishing three short novels would be better than one large book.

>95 RidgewayGirl: so are you going to buy the rest of the books in the series? I have read Shriek: an afterword by Vandermeer which was very good. From your review I might be tempted by the southern reach trilogy

Bas, it felt kind of Lovecraftian. I thought it was very good, but I'm irked at the idea of having to buy three books in order to get one. Harrumph.

>95 RidgewayGirl: Great review of Annihilation, which I agree wholeheartedly with. I read the three, pretty much one after the other, with perhaps a book or two in between. I thought Authority was also quite good, as it provided the viewpoint of a new director of the Southern Reach—a viewpoint from the outside of Area X—as he tries to make sense of what little and conflicting information has come out of the exploration of Area X (never mind the workings of the organization itself). The mystery deepens. But we as readers are still looking for the answer (or answers) in the third book, which features four viewpoints. I'm not sure VanderMeer gives us exactly what we want (and in the way we want it) in that last book.

When I finished The Prestige, I wanted to flip back to the beginning of the book and start the whole thing again. You'll understand if you've read Christopher Priest's intricate historical novel about dueling magicians.

Borden and Angier both set out to make careers in the magic business in England at the end of the nineteenth century. They should have been friends, but both circumstance and their personalities turned them into enemies, each seeking to both outdo and to ruin the other. Then Borden comes up with an illusion called The New Transported Man and Angier is desperate to find out how he did it and to exceed it, which he goes to some length to do.

There's a familiar pattern to The Prestige; the historical tale framed by a modern discovery and of a story that only becomes clear as all the various threads come together. But the expected structure helps to give firm footing to an unbelievable series of events, that Priest guides the reader through in such a way as to make the most fantastic of events seem reasonable.

The Prestige is a fun read that insists that the reader keep their mind fully engaged as a moment's inattention will leave you floundering.

Enjoyed your comments regarding The Prestige, which has been on my wish list for a couple of years. You make it sound very good indeed!

I absolutely loved The Prestige when I read it a couple of years ago. I thought the structure was excellent giving the two sides of the story separately. I'd seen the film a few years before and loved that too, but it was still hard to stop reading the book.

I like that structure, too, valkyrdeath. Having an unreliable narrator, and then another one and getting to figure out where the truth might lie is a fun exercise.

Suzanne, it's excellent, intelligent escapist literature.

I have The Prestige on audiobook. You've pushed it way up the TBR mountain.

It might be interesting on audiobook, Colleen. I recently watched the movie and while there were substantial differences, it kept the heart of the novel. I don't like Christian Bale, I don't know why, but he skeeves me out.

Atul Gawande's newest book, Being Mortal, is about those topics that we'd really rather not discuss until we are forced by circumstance to do so, at which point we are no longer in the best place to make the right decisions. How we'd like to die, how we'd prefer to be cared for when we are old enough to need help with our daily lives, and what standard of living do we need in order to make living worthwhile, are all questions Gawande raises and then looks to various institutions, doctors, medical personnel and the people and the families most affected for answers.

There's a lot of information in this book. As the child of aging parents, what I took out of it is different from what my father did, or that any other person would, depending on where they are in their life's journey. My main take-aways were learning which questions are important to ask, primarily in determining what my parents want at each point along the way. It's not really important what I see as the best thing to do; and when parents age and aren't perhaps as sharp as they once were, it's easy to take over decision making. Doctors are also prone to pushing medical procedures that may prolong life, but at the cost of the person being able to enjoy the time they have left. Gawande looks at whether people prefer to live longer, or whether they prefer to live for a shorter time, when that extra time is spent in a bed, unable to do the things that once brought their lives meaning. We all have a story, he says, and we need to be able to shape that story to its end. He looks at how our desire for safety has made the elderly less independent, and our desire for our parents to receive the best possible care takes away our parents' privacy.

Gawande takes us through the experiences of various people, and how the decisions they made, or that were made for them, made them happier or reduced their independence. He also looked at some new ideas in how to care for the aging and what has had an impact in making people content with where they are.

This is an important book, especially for anyone with aging parents, or who are aging themselves. We may not need the lessons learned in Being Mortal yet, but the more we discuss and plan for the future now, the easier it will be.

Many thanks to Darryl (kidzdoc) for the recommendation. My father is reading it now.

I would not have thought about reading this myself, despite the positive reviews. But your comments have me wondering about it ... a lot.

>104 RidgewayGirl:. I had no desire to see the movie, but the book is another matter.

>105 RidgewayGirl:. I know that I should start thinking about this, and maybe the book is a good place to start. I haven't reached 70 yet, and keep telling myself that I have plenty of time. But....

>31 RidgewayGirl: The BBC has a series of his lectures on this topic here http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/articles/6F2X8TpsxrJpnsq82hggHW/dr-atul-gawande-...
I heard Lecture 3 driving home the other night and it was the first I had heard of Gawande, so good (and an odd coincidence) to see your positive review. I was wondering about finding out more about him and his ideas and now I know where to go.

SL, I missed that he was giving the Reith Lectures last year. I really enjoyed the series on art that Grayson Perry gave, but skipped the next year because it was Niall Ferguson. I'll certainly listen to them soon.

Colleen and Daniel, one of my take aways from Being Mortal is that it's useful to have thought through some of the questions he asks well ahead of time, which is when we're most vulnerable to just doing whatever the doctor tells us to, or we make decisions based on fear or unwarranted hope. Despite the subject matter, this is also an optimistic book, asking us to plan for a future that we are happy and empowered for as long as possible.

>105 RidgewayGirl: Enjoyed your review of Being Mortal. It's one of those subjects that are important yet difficult to deal with!

Thanks, Poquette.

So, in Long, Drawn-Out Encounters with Hideous Corporations...

I've had a problem with amazon in which one of their vendors fraudulently charged me. My bank caught it and I thought it was all sorted until I tried to log into my amazonPrime account. It was blocked. I called, and explained and customer service heartily agreed to reopen my account. Then I got a form email from their accounts department telling me to pay or else. I called amazon and the customer service representative and her supervisor told me my account would be reopened within 24 hours. Then I got a form email from their accounts department telling me to pay or else. This cycle continued until I gave up. This was in 2012.

Meanwhile, before they were owned by amazon, or at least did not advertise their connection, I subscribed to audible.com. This was great for years, until last summer I was unable to log into my account. They quickly fixed that and all was well. Then, last month, I was again unable to log into my account. I called and was told my account was on hold although they could not see why. I was still being charged each month and the customer service person told me that account services would get back to me within 24 hours. Crickets.

I called back. Audible could not access any information on my account, so they'd transfer me to amazon, which promised a call back within 24 hours. The next time, they were a little annoyed that I doubted that account services would call me back within 24 hours. The next time, I spoke to a supervisor who wanted to transfer me back to audible. Audible couldn't access my account and helpfully transferred me to amazon. A different supervisor has, once again, taken down all my information and promised me an email or a call within 24 hours. Meanwhile, I am charged for another credit I can't use. Neither company's customer service is able to cancel the subscription. But account services totes can, and will happily call me back within 24 hours.

Would anyone like to bet on them contacting me?

>111 RidgewayGirl:. I'm sorry you are having troubles with Audible, Kay. So far I've not had any issues and I've been a customer for years. I had two issues recently. In one I ordered a book that was abridged instead of unabridged by mistake. They credited back my account within minutes. I used the online chat function in both cases. I didn't speak on the phone. I also don't use my Amazon sign on. I still use my original Audible account login.

Colleen, I used the original audible sign on as well. I'll try the online chat and see if I get someone further up the chain.

>95 RidgewayGirl: It seems to be happening quite a bit lately in the genre fiction - a few books in close succession (instead of the customary year between them). Usually these end up closely related and the lack of the gap helps a lot - and the size does not scare the younger readers...
I have the three of them waiting for me to get around to them - maybe I should...

It seems to have taken complaining on LT to solve my problem. Received a terse form email stating all was fixed (and some mysterious order would soon be delivered). And all was fixed. It was interesting looking at my amazon wish list from 2012.

Annie, I hope they end up publishing a single volume edition some day. And, yeah, I'll probably cave and read the other two. It will be interesting how the judge decides to handle Annihilation in The Morning News Tournament of Books. If you treat it as a stand-alone novel, I would not expect it to do well, but if you take the trilogy as a whole, is that fair?

>115 RidgewayGirl: I'm really enjoying your reviews, particularly the one of Atul Gawande's Being Mortal. I'm trying to work up to reading that: it seems like the kind of book you should pay attention to, so I want to read when I'm not distracted by other things. Sorry to hear about your troubles with Amazon; I've actually never used them (we have a competitor in India, called Flipkart, which I've not had trouble with so far), and I'm increasingly hoping that I never will.

>115 RidgewayGirl:
They might - but it won't be soon most likely...

It is not that different from some of the other first novels in trilogies lately - except that this one at least had the next one coming out fast... I miss the days of the standalones - but I've said that before :) It is an epidemic of first novels that set the worlds so that the next 2 stories end finish the initial story.

No clue how this thing will be handled in the Morning News thing.

Even Margaret Atwood's not above spending a few books in an inventively created world. I guess I'll have to adjust! I'm sure I'll read the other two books in the Southern Reach Trilogy, but it will be awhile - it takes me some time to get past all the other books calling my name.

I'm working my way through some of the books that will be in The Morning News Tournament of Books, of which All the Birds, Singing by Australian author Evie Wyld is one. Telling the story of Jake, a prickly, anti-social Australian woman, the book moves back and forth between her present, where she owns a small farm on an isolated British island on which she raises sheep, to the near past, where she works as a shearer on a northern Australian sheep station, and the far past, when she became the woman that she is. All the Birds, Singing is a relatively short book, with each chapter taking place in a different time and place, with the chapters set in the past not necessarily following in chronological order. This could be confusing, but Wyld's writing, as well as the vast differences between each segment of her life, means that I was able to orient myself within a few sentences.

There is, it seems, a terrible secret in Jake's past, a secret that she's on the run from and while the book seems to be heading in the direction of that secret being both sordid and expected, Wyld refuses to do the predictable thing. There's also a looming danger in the woods on the outskirts of her island farm, with her sheep being killed, although it's only a few each month. Jake has ideas about what is lurking, but it's never entirely certain what is happening and what is imagined.

All the Birds, Singing is an inventive, well-written and compelling novel. It's not one that releases its answers easily and Wyld is telling only the story that needs to be told; there are no unnecessary scenes and some things are left ambiguous. I suspect I'll be thinking over this book for some time to come.

>119 RidgewayGirl: Sounds like my kind of book! Wishlisted.

>119 RidgewayGirl:. All The Birds, Singing sounds good. I'm adding to my wishlist which is ridiculously long at this point.

I enjoyed catching up with your reading!

>119 RidgewayGirl: All the Birds, Singing sounds intriguing. It has gone on my wishlist.

Sorry to hear of your troubles with Amazon and glad it has been resolved. I haven't had a problem like that since I joined a children's book club back in the old days. It was a nightmare to handle - by snail mail and long distance phone.

Laura Lippman writes mainstream crime novels, a genre I usually avoid as predictable and usually featuring the protagonist putting themselves in needless peril so as to provide a good climax for the story. Lippman's stand-alone novels don't fall into those traps, although the writing can be workmanlike. The qualities that make her novels worth reading are an ability to create three dimensional characters and to make the reader care about them, even the not very likable ones, and that Baltimore is a character in the best of her books. Lippman clearly cares about this city and knows its history and geography with the kind of detail that only someone who loves it could.

In 1976, Felix, facing a few years in prison on a federal racketeering conviction, disappears instead. He leaves behind his wife and three young daughters, his friends and a serious girlfriend, who is the one who helps him flee the country. Ten years later, the girlfriend's body is found in Leakin Park, that infamous dumping ground. Nearly three decades later, a retired police working cold cases chooses that murder to look into. Going back and forth in time, and alternating point-of-views between the various characters, After I'm Gone tells the story of what happened to the girlfriend, the wife and the daughters of the fugitive.

This was a fun book to read, with the history of Baltimore's neighborhoods changing through the decades was interesting. While not serious literature, or even serious fiction, After I'm Gone was an entertaining way to spend a few snowy evenings.

When Italy surrendered to the Allied Forces, it's soldiers retreated from the portion of France it had occupied, followed by Jewish refugees who had relied on Italy's disinterest in persecuting them. German troops in Italy became occupiers and began to enforce their own racial purity policies.

Mary Doria Russell sets her novel in a fictional valley that leads into the Alps during these final years of the Second World War. A Thread of Grace follows a few families that, after having been unwelcome refugees in France, cross the Alps in street shoes and carrying the last bits of their former lives in battered suitcases, with the help of Italian soldiers who see these families as people desperately needing their help. And in a small city at the other end of the valley, a Rabbi and his family who have been instrumental in caring for the Jewish refugees from eastern Europe, face the decision of whether to go into hiding themselves or to stay in order to continue to help the Jews in Porto Sant'Andrea.

Russell knows how to tell a story. A Thread of Grace weaves together several narratives, with a large cast of characters, but she always manages to make each character real and memorable, from Claudette Blum, a teenager coming of age missing her mother and younger brothers and forced to endlessly adjust to her changing circumstances, to Meisinger, an equally young German soldier who driver to the Grüppenfuhrer in the last days of the German occupation. This is a difficult book to put down. There's a great deal of derring-do, from the priest hiding money under his cassock to give to those households hiding Jews, acting against orders from Rome, to the Calabrian soldier who remains in the Alps in order to help the refugees and avoid conscription by the German Army, to a Grandmother who undertakes a dangerous task because sitting safely at home is too boring for her, there is always something going on, usually several things at once. And Russell never lets the reader forget that this isn't an adventure story and that the ending for far too many of the people involved isn't a celebration at the end of the war.

>125 RidgewayGirl: This sounds interesting: I haven't read anything by Russell before. Thank you for the review.

>125 RidgewayGirl:. I have A Thread of Grace on my shelf. Another book I would like to read right away.

I am at my daughter's house in Massachusetts this week, and not reading as much as I'd like to. There is always too much fun with the kids.

Not my kind of books right now, but enjoyed your reviews of After I'm Gone and A Thread of Grace.

Ditto what Dan said. Enjoyed Russell's The Sparrow and Children of God, but the subject matter of her later books never grabbed me enough to actually seek them out.

I've had A Thread of Grace on the TBR since someone mentioned it several years ago on LT, but it hasn't called to me . . . so far. Thanks for the reminder.

Poquette, some reviewers were very upset that she followed those two books with what is straight up historical fiction. I like an author who is willing to leap from topic to genre without getting stuck in one, though.

Rebecca, Colleen, rv88 (I'm refusing to call you a C.O.M. until you provide evidence); I have read only two of Mary Doria Russell's books and they were both wonderfully done. I'd like to go and read all of her others in quick succession, but as she writes very slowly, I am going to wait before reading another one.

Thanks, Dan.

What did you do today, you'd say when you got home from work, and I'd try my best to craft an anecdote for you out of nothing.

In Dept. of Speculation, Jenny Offill leaves plot behind in favor of brief, beautifully written vignettes in a woman's life. The unnamed protagonist begins the book as a young woman, ambitious and determined to be an "art monster," living entirely for her writing. Along the way, she gets married and has a child, entanglements that complicate and enrich her life. And that's the book, really. Her thoughts and experiences as she lives her life; not the milestones, but what it feels like to stand behind an elderly woman at the drug store, to care for a cranky infant who will not sleep, to work, resentfully, toward forgiveness.

How has she become one of those people who wears yoga pants all day? She used to make fun of those people. With their happiness maps and gratitude journals and their bags made out of recycled tire treads. But now it seems possible that the truth about getting older is that there are fewer and fewer things to make fun of until finally there is nothing you are sure you will never be.

Dept. of Speculation is a short novel, almost a novella, but it feels like a much larger book. The woman is prickly and often irritated and I like characters like that. The writing is wonderful; vivid without being ornate; there isn't a superfluous word in the thing.

>131 RidgewayGirl: I like an author who is willing to leap from topic to genre without getting stuck in one, though.

No argument there. In my advanced years, I find that my reading interests have perhaps narrowed, so the problem, if there is one, is with me, not with her. She is a great writer and an interesting person. I once went to hear her speak and was a big fan.

>132 RidgewayGirl: Just reading this now, and was trying to find the person who recommended it in the 75's group, and instead found your thread.
Such a wonderful book - reminds me of Vikram Seth and Don Paterson - as you say vivid without being ornate - captures it perfectly.
You have recommended so many books that I'm going to add to my wish list, but a thread of grace I'd not come across at all, and it's even at my local library :-) Thank you!

(ed. to correct my spelling of Paterson)

>132 RidgewayGirl: Dept. of Speculation sounds great. Wishlisted.

>132 RidgewayGirl: Oh, that sounds lovely. Added to my list, too.

Suzanne, more focused reading is a good thing.

Hi, C, I can't believe we haven't already met around LT before now. Our taste in books is not dissimilar. Do you have a thread somewhere? I love Vikram Seth, but I haven't read anything by Don Patterson. The link takes me to a guy writing adventure stories about the RAF?

It's a beautifully written book, rv and Florence.

Argh. I should have checked the link (and my spelling). Apologies.

Don Paterson finds the right author. He's a poet, but Dept of Speculation particularly put me in mind of a book of aphorisms he published (it seems from LT records there is more than one now, so back to my wish list I go to add them). It's the same quality (I think) of stripped down text that manages to convey so much. He's an amazing reader too - I heard him speak a couple of times at the Scottish Poetry Library and couldn't recommend him enough. Witty, modest and generous to audiences.

I'm over in the 75s. I've been on LT for a long while, but have only discovered the talk settings very recently, enjoying finding so many readers with great recommendations for books.

Thanks for the reminder that I've been wanting to get to Maria Doria Russell for ages now. I do want to read The Sparrow, but this one sounds like one I might enjoy.

Dept of Speculation has gone on the wishlist too.

Just noticed the label in 1 above yesterday and wondering what clothing it belonged to. The label looks custom made, given the absence of standard symbols. I don't really expect you to know the details, but all in all , quite intriguing, and that's before any comment on the message!

Rachel, I've had an oddly good reading year so far. I'd like to read another by Russell soon.

SL, the label is real and from a British company called Madhouse. Here's the article about them:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/technology/twitter/9125574/Sexist-trousers-are-below-...

The Silkworm was exactly what I wanted it to be; another well-plotted detective novel similar to the first in the series. Here, Cormoran Strike and his assistant Robin investigate the disappearance of a near forgotten writer. His wife doesn't want to go to the police as he has made a habit of these dramatic disappearances. She just wants Strike to find him and to tell him to come home. He's just written a new novel, one whose characters are thinly veiled caricatures of actual people in the publishing world, so when his disappearance turns into a murder investigation, there are no shortage of suspects.

J.K. Rowling, (writing as Robert Galbraith, is good as creating off-beat characters and putting together a tightly plotted book. It was a very satisfying and entertaining read. She's less than kind in her characterizations of certain of her characters, saving the worst for the wives and children of Strike's friends, but her mean spiritedness is entertaining and kept under control. Rowling clearly has fun poking at the publishing industry, from the author who self-publishes her fantasy erotica to the head of a major publishing house.

There's no new ground broken, but Rowling respects the genre and plays brilliantly within its strictures. I look forward to the next one.

>142 RidgewayGirl:. I enjoyed The Silkworm when I read it last year, and look forward to the next. I agree that Rowling has created a credible series with this one.

Did you read her first adult novel Casual Vacancy? While I didn't hate it, I felt that she tried to overdo everything, throwing in practically every plot device she could think of. Fortunately, she hasn't done that with her new series.

>132 RidgewayGirl:. Dept. Of Speculation is another for my wishlist.

>142 RidgewayGirl: I enjoyed this one more than its predecessor - I think because Robin got to do more. Looking forward to Number III.

>111 RidgewayGirl: That's awful!!!!

>125 RidgewayGirl: Very nice to revisit A Thread of Grace through your terrific review.

Charlotte, she did, although not until the second half of the book, which had me worried because I had been excited about them as a working team. I have got to learn to just trust Rowling on that!

Lois, it eventually all worked out and it's not a bad thing to have been forced to learn how to live without amazon! It's surprisingly easy, really. And Russell is a fantastic writer. I'm looking forward to the books I still have ahead of me, but I'm going to pace myself--she's not a speedy writer.

Adam is seventeen, lives in an affluent suburb of Berkeley, California and attends a private high school. He's also directionless, insecure and hanging onto inclusion in the popular group through the skin of his teeth. He's looking to escape all of that when he convinces his parents to let him stay for the summer with his college-age sister and her roommates in Brooklyn. His sister, Casey, is a lesbian and through her Adam meets a variety of lesbians and trans men. Adam is preoccupied with sex (he is seventeen, after all), but also dreams of romantic love, which he finds with a pretty red-haired girl.

Adam is a young adult novel, and Ariel Schrag is writing for older teenagers. I'm no longer the audience for this book, and had to set aside my irritation with the simplicity and repetition of the genre. In many ways, this reads like a Very Special Episode, but airing on late night HBO. Which is not to downplay the importance of a book about lesbian and transgender issues that is aimed at heterosexual teenagers. Schrag treats her characters like real people, so that just because a character is a trans man doesn't mean he can't also be an oblivious jerk. Adam, himself, is a complex guy, with his insecurities and concern that he look and behave in exactly the right way as well as the real affection he has for the girl he likes and his relationship with the sister he admires and worries about.

On the other hand, there were a few serious flaws in this novel. There's a secret Adam is keeping from his girlfriend, a secret which forms the central conflict in the book. Yet, at the last minute, Schrag pulls her punch here and makes that secret not a big deal, and that secret is revealed in a scene in which there is a question of consent that should have been treated as more than not a big deal, especially considering the personalities of the characters before that point. There were two fairly significant issues dropped into the novel towards the end that were there as far as I could see only to provide a bit of interest as the novel wrapped up, and a lot of lessons about gender issues that felt like they'd been copied directly from the author's research notes.

Adam is not a novel without merit, but it's too flawed to be able to recommend it whole-heartedly. It will be interesting to see what Ariel Schrag writes next, as she shows potential and a willingness to dive into difficult issues.

This is another book that I read solely because it's slated to compete in The Morning News Tournament of Books. I'm enjoying how much this shortlist is stretching my usual reading, even if I don't love all of the books I've read for it.

I didn't know that Schrag had branched into YA fiction writing. She drew comics chronicling her four years of high school which started being published while she was still in school. They were written so close to the events though, that I think they appeal less and less the further away you get from the "this stuff is SO important!" teenage mindset. It's also kind of interesting that she hasn't continued with drawing, apparently.

Celeste Ng's novel, Everything I Never Told You, is a simple story about a quietly unhappy family that is clearly and straightforwardly told. It's also a nuanced, beautiful, understated and heart-wrenching read. At the center of the story and the center of the Lee family is Lydia, middle child but oldest daughter, who becomes the repository for both of her parents dreams, from her father's desire for her to fit in and have the social life he was denied as the only non-white child at a private school in early sixties, to her mother's thwarted dream of becoming a doctor. Lydia sees the fragility in her family and makes it her job to keep everyone happy. Lydia's brother, Nath, bears the sins of both not being the daughter his mother wants and in reminding his father too much of his own childhood. And Hannah, much younger than her siblings, is simply forgotten.

It took me a lot longer to read this book than normal, because everyone loves each other and everyone is making each other unhappy. There's so much sadness that I had to push myself to keep reading. But Ng isn't writing a book about misery, but about family, and as the book wraps up, there are moments of grace that redeem the earlier chapters. Ng is sometimes heavy-handed with the symbolism, but the novel is nevertheless well worth reading.

That ad at the top of your thread is crazy. What were they thinking.... :)

Not only the picture, but the text underneath is wild as well. I'm pretty sure that the expressions "he man" and "slacks" cannot co-exist in the same sentence!

I'm pretty sure that the expressions "he man" and "slacks" cannot co-exist in the same sentence!

Not today at any rate.. :)

>149 RidgewayGirl:: Enjoyed your review. I keep coming across this book - think I will have to add it to my wish list!

Colleen, were slacks ever sexy? Even the name is terrible. Slacks.

Alison, it's well worth reading. It's one of the books up to compete in The Morning News Tournament of books and it won amazon's best book of the year, so it has gotten some buzz. It's Ng's debut novel and I think her next book will be even better.

I'm glad someone commented on the ad as I always click on the unread messages and so never see the top of someone's thread. But I couldn't help but laugh at that ad; it actually feels like a modern photoshop parodying advertisements of that era. How absurd it is!

Oy, that ad is a rough welcome to your thread*. Makes me want to claw someone's eyes out. Is it advertising slacks? (I can read the Leggs, but I thought it might be the panty hose—which I remember showing up around '69 when I was in 8th grade).

*I fear I still read posts the archaic way by going to the person's thread and then down to the unread posts....

Enjoying your reviews

Lois, it is for slacks. The kind of slacks that cause women to want to be your carpet, apparently. Have slacks ever been sexy?

Thanks, Bas.

>158 RidgewayGirl:

*ahem* A great fitting pair on the right man? *ahem* Yes. Tres sexy.

But slacks, lilisin! That word has to rank up with "moist" as the least pleasant word ever.

I'm going to disagree there. Moist is a fabulous word. Paired with cake it's even better. >;-)

But please do not pair it with "slacks."

'Moist slacks' I tried googling it for images and didn't get anything interesting, but NPR put the two words with 'dude,' a word I find abominable, in this article: http://www.npr.org/2012/04/26/151470781/slacks-moist-dude-the-worst-words-ever

Robert

That was a fun article. Interesting that there is so much agreement on what the worst words are.

Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes is set in a decaying, crime-ridden Detroit, a city of urban ruin, but is also where artists are finding freedom to work and to come up with interesting ways to display their work. Broken Monsters follows Detective Gabi Versado, divorced mother raising her teenage daughter alone and a woman working in a field dominated by men who are not all pleased to work with a woman. She gets the call out to where a rookie patrol officer has found a gruesomely mutilated corpse and ends up leading a politically charged and difficult hunt for the murderer, a case subject to frenzied media attention as they speculate on whether or not they are looking for a serial killer. Added to this is Layla, Gabi's teenage daughter, who is struggling to find her way in a world where she doesn't fit in, although she does have one dubious friend; TK, who works for a homeless shelter and is known as someone who will always help, and Jonno, a journalist from New York who is trying to put his life back together and reignite his career with a series of YouTube videos.

Most of Broken Monsters is a solidly plotted crime novel, with interesting, well-developed characters and an atmospheric setting. While the identity of the murderer is made clear early in the book, it doesn't lessen the tension as the police struggle to figure out what exactly they are dealing with. Toward the climax of the book, supernatural aspects turn up, which were not entirely needed or as successfully integrated as Beukes did in The Shining Girls. It feels a little tacked on, as does the eventual explanation. Supernatural themes aside, the book would have been an outstanding read for me had not the protagonist behaved both stupidly and out of character in order to force the climactic scenes. I really hate the overused trope of having the protagonist put themselves into unnecessary danger in order to make the story more exciting. But with that glaring exception, Broken Monsters was a fun book to read.

I liked your review but I'm not going to read the book.

>165 RidgewayGirl: Nice review - I started this on my kindle but it just didn't grab me. I hope she'll revisit Jo'burg soon instead of shifting her settings to the US (despite enjoying The Shining Girls).

Thanks, Dan. It's an entertaining book, but not substantial.

Charlotte, Beukes really evokes the atmosphere of Detroit and I enjoyed reading a book set outside of the usual cities (NY, London, etc...). I haven't read her earlier books set in South Africa, but I would like to.

>169 charl08: Ooh, highly recommend Zoo City. I don't read much fantasy / dystopia, but this is just fantastic. Clever, funny, and the main character is compelling. Plus that whole Philip Pullman thing with the animals accompanying people.

>165 RidgewayGirl: Thank you for this review. I really wanted to read this book, but the more I read about it, the less enthusiastic I get!

>163 Mr.Durick: (as in 'moist slacks, dude') I was surprised to see 'reach out'. Whence came this expression? In business nowadays virtual strangers seem to be constantly 'reaching out', which seems rather desperate, something to be done "when you feel like you can't go on, because all of your hope is gone...". Are the people 'reaching out' to me desperate themselves, or are they under the impression I am in dire circumstances? If the former I can't help them, if the latter I resent the implication. Besides, they are generally miles away, so it's pointless. Sometimes when they 'reach out' they want to set up a time to 'jump on a call'. I don't want people thrusting their arms at me or crouching by their desks ready to land with both feet on phone. The words 'moist', 'slacks', and 'dude' hold no fear for me, but if you want to 'reach out' to me before 'jumping on a call', especially if you are going to tell me you are 'conflicted' about anything, you won't see me for dust.

Anyway, to return to the subject of the ads, I look forward to your next amazing discovery.

Us is the story of a family. Douglas, the father, is of that repressed and careful character that is a staple stereotype of English men. He loves his wife and son, he really does, but he shows it in reprimands and awkwardness. He's also a biochemist who is frustrated and confused by his seventeen year old son's love of photography and sloth. He doesn't mean to be unsupportive, but he does think that Albie should really look for a field of study that he is more likely to be successful in than photography. His wife, Connie, had seen him at the beginning of their relationship as reassuring, like the Shipping Forecast, but now seems to regard him more as just dull. She has suggested that they separate when their son leaves for university, but not earlier. Leaving them to face one last family vacation; a Grand Tour of Europe.

David Nicholls, like Nick Hornsby and Helen Fielding, writes entertaining books that aren't quite literary fiction, but also aren't easy to dismiss as trifling. Nicholls has an easy style of writing, which allows him room to explore difficult themes and ideas lightly. Here it's the end of a marriage, the inability of people who love each other to communicate, even when they truly want to. This should be dire, but it's enjoyably readable. There's also a great deal about art, from the point of view of someone who has a hard time seeing more than what is concretely on the canvas, who has the misfortune to travel with two people who have made visual arts their primary interest. There's a fair bit of slapstick comedy here, but it doesn't overshadow the heart at the centre of this story.

Charlotte, I'll look for a copy of Zoo City.

rv88, it depends on your taste for horror jumping into crime novels. I'm a difficult customer for horror; while there are a few authors who can frighten me, usually there will come a point when I just find it all silly. In the case of Broken Monsters, I didn't think it was silly, I just didn't believe it happened. But her previous novel, The Shining Girls, had me along for every unlikely twist and turn.

O, I really dislike "perquisite." It irks me. I don't mind "dude" which is a good thing, having a young son, and I'm slowly adjusting to "bro." But no one I have ever liked has ever worn slacks.

I love the idea of marrying the Shipping Forecast, but I can see that it would be a mistake. David Nicholls is new to me, and I'm supposed to be drastically reducing the booklog, but I will try to keep 'Us' tucked behind my ear for the future.

I described my relationship with my ex as being like an old of slippers, you know you should throw them out, but they're worn in and comfortable - if falling apart at the seams. There's a reason we didn't stay together...
I think you're description of David Nichols' books is good - they're not heavy reads, but neither are they trivial. One day did annoy me in its high level of co-incidence required for it to work, but it was a good read.

Enjoyed your review of Us. I've only read One Day - it was a few years ago, but I seem to remember enjoying it.

Sometimes this kind of book is just what you need - an easy read that doesn't take itself too seriously.

>171 Oandthegang: that made me laugh

O, I love to hear the Shipping Forecast. It's a detail in the novel that stuck with me since it let me see immediately why Connie could be attracted to him. Us is told in Douglas's voice and he does not make himself sound attractive.

Helen, I think Nicholls would like your description.

Alison, I seem to be reading an awful lot of lighter novels so far this year.

The Girl on the Train is Rachel, an unemployed, newly divorced woman with a serious drinking problem. Traveling to London every day on the train, she passes the back of her old house, now filled with her ex-husband's new wife and baby. But what fascinates her are the inhabitants a few doors down, a young couple who are clearly so in love and happy.

Paula Hawkins has written the first big bestseller of 2015. It's been compared, over and over, to Gone Girl, which is mainly due, as far as I can tell, to being an entertaining, page-turning psychological thriller that the publishers hope will sell just as well. It is those things. Otherwise, there's no connection to Gillian Flynn's novel.

The Girl on the Train is narrated by three women; Rachel, herself, desperately unhappy and hanging together by the thinnest thread, she's still the linchpin of the novel as she tries to put the pieces back together into some sort of coherent narrative. Then there's Megan, the woman she watches so closely and whose disappearance is the central mystery of the novel. She's not as happy as she appears to be. And, finally, there's Anna, the new wife, who feels menaced by Rachel's constant appearance on their quiet street. She's got a family she loves and she won't let Rachel hurt it.

Overall, I enjoyed this suspenseful novel. While Megan and Rachel's voices and the way they experience the world are so similar, it's hard to tell them apart, each chapter is clearly marked with who is speaking and when that chapter takes place, so that the reader can follow the story as it jumps from narrator to narrator and through time. The Girl on the Train has the feel of a debut novel and there are missteps along the way, but it's a fun book with an ending that doesn't feel like a cheat. I look forward to seeing what Hawkins writes next as this novel showed promise.

>179 RidgewayGirl: I've been avoiding this successfully so far, but your comments make me want to read it. There are 219 reservations ahead of me though, so it might be some time before I get the chance!

Charlotte, it's a fun book. I worry that the amount of hype it's getting will lead to a backlash, but I liked it a lot. I was pretty far down on the hold list, starting at 19th (219 reservations! Maybe they should get a few more copies!), but because it's such a quick read, it reached me in just a few weeks.

>179 RidgewayGirl:: oh, glad you enjoyed this. In a couple of weeks Paula Hawkins is talking at a local book shop, and I'm hoping to get myself a signed copy. I've been holding off on buying it in the meantime - glad it'll be a worthwhile purchase!!!

I haven't heard of this book (where have I been???), but I do tend to avoid books with a lot of hype. Sounds like this one is worth it!

>179 RidgewayGirl:. I have seen several good reviews of The Girl on the Train, and have managed to avoid adding to my wishlist. But, not this time. On to the wishlist it goes.

Margaret Atwood's newest collection of short stories, Stone Mattress: Nine Tales, is every bit as good as one would expect. My only disappointment is that there were only nine stories.

The collection starts off with three loosely connected stories, one involving a popular and eccentric fantasy novelist, one about a former lover who is a minor poet and the final story follows an ex-wife of the poet. There's a story, originally written for The Walrus, that continues the story of Charis, Roz and Tony from The Robber Bride, which is wonderful. I got the feeling that Atwood loves those three women as much as I do, and her story, in which Billy returns, is very well done. Many of the stories are about people approaching the end of their lives and several of them are writers of one sort or another, but despite the common themes, each story is different from the others.

I've always preferred Atwood's short stories to her novels, so look forward to this. I particularly liked the humour in her early work, but it doesn't sound like there will be too much of that in this collection.

There's a gentle humor, O. She's not overly serious, in any case. But no giant hairy cysts, if that's the kind of humor you're looking for (that will live with me forever).

>185 RidgewayGirl: oh, I loved this, especially the connected ones about the fantasy series. She did the ego of the poet very well, I thought.

I've just discovered, too late, that Atwood will be at the V&A this Friday for a talk on Fashion and Fiction. It's sold out. I'm sure that would be fun. http://www.vam.ac.uk/whatson/event/4061/margaret-atwood-fashion-and-fiction-3981...

Charlotte, Gavin was a treat, wasn't he? I loved his comeuppance.

O, I have a long history of discovering that favorite speakers, bands, authors, etc, will be appearing somewhere convenient a day or two after they were in town.

Mansfield Park tells the story of Fanny Price, a poor relation of the Bertram family, who was brought to live with them when she was ten as an act of charity. Fanny is an odd heroine for a novel by Jane Austen. She lacks spark. Which is no wonder given that she was removed from her home while young, dumped into a strange environment and largely ignored. Her Aunt Norris is one of the worst characters ever put down on paper; all of the evil stepmothers of fairy tale fame would do well to take lessons from her. She makes certain that shy, insecure Fanny will only become more withdrawn and hesitant as she grows up and that the Bertram family will not forget to treat her as an unwelcome charity case.

And that is the strength of this novel. Along with the amazing aunt Norris, Austen has created a whole host of wonderful characters and breathed life into them. From the dull idiot Mr. Rushworth, who is so taken by being given a role in the play the young people decide to put on that involves him learning forty-two speeches (which he is then unable to learn), to Lady Bertram, who approaches a sedentary lifestyle with the dedication of an Olympic hopeful; each character is so interesting in their own right that I wanted several times in this book for Austen to have written other novels following each of them.

Fanny is such an interesting character. She's been systematically berated and ignored until by the age of eighteen she is anxious in any situation where attention might be paid to her, but also resentful when it isn't. She's been ordered to be grateful for substandard treatment so often that she rarely speaks and when she does it's often in an Eeyore-ish passive aggressive way, not that it does her any good. Unless her cousin Edmund happens to be listening, her wishes are entirely disregarded. And so she sits, largely silent, with years of pent-up judgements and opinions inside of her. She's not an easy character to like, although Austen makes clear that while she is silently thinking the worst of the people around her, the face she shows is so quiet and unassuming, that people attribute great kindness to her. It helps that being so shy makes her a very good listener to all the narcissists that surround her, and that she is very pretty. Her improved looks are noticed first by her uncle who, after having spent some months away in Antigua, at the sugar plantation that provides the Bertram family their wealth, begins to talk about her and to her quite a bit, she now being worthy of his notice. It's all a little skeevy, and Fanny, quite rightly, remains terrified of him.

This being Austen, there is a question of the central characters, here Fanny Price and her cousin Edmund, finding spouses. Edmund, a solemn man, plans to enter the clergy and live a rural life, is simultaneously entranced and repulsed by Mary Crawford, who is light, quick-witted and bubbly. She tends to say any witty thing that pops into her head and she often shocks and insults Edmund inadvertently. Of course they can't leave each other alone, and they are each constantly reassessing whether they could be happy together. Then there's her brother Henry, who begins the novel as a flirt who is always looking for new ways to entertain himself and others. He determines to pay court to Fanny as a way of passing the time after all the other eligible young ladies have left the neighborhood, making a contest to himself of winning her affection. Instead, he falls in love while Fanny remains hostile to his advances. His admiration for her causes him to renounce his rakehell ways. Unfortunately, Fanny bore witness to his worst behavior and is disinclined to give his reformation any credit. She attempts to get rid of him several times, but between her inability to speak clearly enough for him to understand and his own determination to win her no matter how long it takes, they are often in each other's company.

We all know how things should turn out -- with a double wedding at the local chapel in the best Austen style, but she throws a curve ball in Mansfield Park, refusing, in the end, to satisfy the reader. And this is where I ran into a problem with this book; I wanted a different ending. I knew what would happen. I'd read the book before. But until the final chapters, I was hoping for it.

I have still to read Mansfield Park a pleasure to come I think. Enjoyed your review.

Did the ending spoil a little of the book for you. Would it have been better with a happy ever after ending?. I might be missing the point having not read the novel.

I very much enjoyed your comments on Mansfield Park.

Fantastic thoughts on Mansfield Park. I was going to join in the discussion over in the category challenge without rereading this, but I don't think I can resist. I think that after I finish my current book, I'll reread it.

I don't think so, Bas. I enjoyed seeing what Austen was doing and disagreeing with her. In my mind, the events of the final days of the novel played out very differently.

Thanks, Joyce.

Jennifer, that's what I did for the Pride and Prejudice read, but it's more fun to discuss it with the book fresh in my mind. And Mansfield Park will elicit a more interesting discussion, I think, since it's not a book we all revere.

>191 RidgewayGirl: - great review. Another one that I need to get to. I've read P&P and one other Austen , but I'm damned if I can remember which one it was. I think maybe Emma (or was it Sense & Sensibility... it was a while ago now!!).

>191 RidgewayGirl: This is a lovely review of Mansfield Park, and it made me want to re-read the book.

>191 RidgewayGirl: Really nice comments on Mansfield Park. It's probably a travesty to admit on LT, but I prefer the film version (1999) which takes great liberties with the book but in a way that turns Fanny into JA, in lots of ways that I enjoyed.

I have been listening to Juliet Stevenson read Persuasion an old favourite - amazing how many rereads Austen will take, I think. I wondered if you had seen the tutored read of MP over in the 75 book challenge? I have been learning much (including exactly what a Ha Ha looks like....)
https://www.librarything.com/topic/188460#5091335

Alison, I'd recommend reading Northanger Abbey if you haven't. It's about a girl who reads too much and is a lot of fun.

reva8, Austen always reveals something new every time I reread one of hers.

Charlotte, I'm planning to watch that version soon - Jonny Lee Miller! And I'm following the tutored read quite happily, although my original plans to read at the pace it's being discussed fell through.

>199 RidgewayGirl:: thanks for the recommendation. Another one goes on the wish list!!! It's probably 25 years since I read an Austen novel, so might have to move that one up the (now very long) list.

"With my group," Starlee told me, "the first man said that his secret was that he hadn't paid taxes in ten years. Everyone nodded and looked disappointed that his secret wasn't so sensational. Then the next man said that his secret was he had once murdered a man. He was in a truck with a man and he punched him in his head and threw him out the guy was dead and another car ran him over. And he didn't go to jail and he never told anyone."

"What did Brad Blanton say?" I asked her.

"He said, 'Next. Great.' So then it got to the next woman. She said, 'Oh! My secrets are so boring! I suppose I can talk about how I have sex with my cat.' Then the murderer raised his hand and said, 'Excuse me. I'd like to add that I also have sex with my cat.'"

Jon Ronson is an expert in getting people to talk to him. In So You've Been Publicly Shamed, he takes on people whose lives have been ruined through a single tasteless joke, or an act of plagiarism that the internet refuses to let them move on from. Ronson is interested in how people recover from their public shaming, but also in the shamers - what triggers the internet to attack someone? How are ordinary people complicit in this? Along the way, he looks at the way shame affects us, how people fight shame and why some people are able to move on from a public scandal, while others remain targets.

Ronson's inspiration for this book was his reaction when his name and photo were used by a twitterbot. He found himself feeling powerless and angry. He got the guys, university lecturers, to agree to an interview and Ronson was gratified by the responses he got when he posted the interview on YouTube and felt victorious when the twitterbot was taken down.

I can see why people who are otherwise reluctant to talk to anyone, let alone a journalist, would speak with Ronson. He really is the least threatening person on earth. This is emphasized when you listen to him, which I have and while reading this book, I heard it narrated in his voice. Here, he talks to a writer whose plagiarism was revealed, and the journalist who unmasked him. He talks to two women who made tasteless jokes, one on twitter and one on Facebook. And he talks to Max Moseley, a wealthy, prominent Brit who was unmasked as a frequenter of a sex club with a Nazi theme. Moseley survived his scandal, and was able to continue on with his life and Ronson wants to find out why he managed to reinvent himself, when so many people whose transgressions were much smaller were still trapped in their houses, unable to move on.

So You've Been Publicly Shamed sounds fascinating and relevant...my thoughts are now churning.

So You've Been Publicly Shamed was already on my wishlist, but it is now climbing up it even higher.

>165 RidgewayGirl: I tried to read Beukes The Shining Girls as she was getting a lot of buzz in SF circles, but it just didn't do anything for me.

>185 RidgewayGirl: Good to hear the Atwood collection is excellent. I usually jump right into an Atwood when I get them but didn't this time. New novel coming out this fall, though.

>191 RidgewayGirl: Nice review of Mansfield Park. I recently read Val McDermid's modern retelling of it. And there is a recent UK audio production of it that stars Benedict Cumberbatch, David Tennant and Felicity Jones (I'd link to it, but this decaying laptop doesn't let me cut and paste anymore. Easily found on a Google search though)