Finally catching up

I'm just now finishing up books I bought in London this past Christmas. The dog days of summer aren't upon us just yet, but it's hot enough that I've been hiding indoors with this pile of books.

I finally read the second half of Frances Hodgson Burnett'sThe Making of a Marchioness. The two halves were originally published as separate books anyway, so the 7-month gap didn't bother me too much. The tone of the second half is very different: if the first section is a kind of Cinderella story, the second is much more like The Turn of the Screw. I'm not entirely sure what to think of it all, though I did enjoy reading the book immensely.

Another beautiful Persephone book I'd bought in London and just now read is Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, by Winifred Watson. It's a perfect Cinderella story, a lovely fairy take about a woman who's never before had a chance to shine, and what happens to her when she does. Plus it's written in tremendously hip and funny language.

Last and now on my all-time favorites list is The Dud Avocado, Elaine Dundy's novel about an American girl in Paris. Sally Jay is my perfect heroine--kooky but not tragic like Holly Golightly, funny and sarcastic, worldly but naive. I imagine scores of girls read this book and think she's exactly like they are. I'll admit, I certainly did. And then, underneath all that, there is this perfectly structured piece story that never even tries to let on how brilliant it is; it just sits back there quietly being a genius of plot and pacing, and if you never even notice it, it's not at all bothered. If it were up to me, this novel would immediately become part of the canon and get taught in all modern literature classes.

Now that I've got those off my to-be-read shelf, the only London books left are a Christian Dior guide to style (less of a reading book and more of a reference book), some selected Henry James, and some poetry by Keats and by... someone else. Whom I've forgotten.

Book: Looking for Alaska

by John Green (2005).

A seemingly simple story that is so much more powerful than the plot alone can describe. I adore John Green's characters, I love that he sets his books in the South, I love that he makes me cry while I'm reading. I can't say enough good things. The man is amazing.

Book: Specials

by Scott Westerfeld (2006).

The totally awesome end to the Pretties trilogy, which I basically raced through. I love that conditions for our main character changed so radically from book to book; Westerfeld is certainly not afraid of mixing it up, or making drastic decisions in regards to his characters and worlds. I admire this immensely.

Ending a trilogy can be tricky, but I think this book pulled it off pretty well. The action was great, and nearly nonstop, and the end was a nice stopping place for a story that obviously goes on in its own world.

And, of course, there is the fourth book left to read.

Book: The Turn of the Screw

by Henry James (1898).

This is really more of a novella, I suppose, but we'll call it a book just for fun. I read it based on a reference by Jessa on the Bookslut blog, about reading something scary for Halloween.

Scary is definitely a word you could use to describe this book. But not scary in a horror movie way. Scary in a quiet, foreboding way. Very gothic. The last line is worth the entire 120-odd pages that comes before it.

Book: Pretties

by Scott Westerfeld (2005).

I am thoroughly addicted to this series. I'm liking it more and more as I read. This book might have felt very much the middle bit of a trilogy, but it was still awesomely fun. We learn more about the world outside the cities--that big wide world is hiding a lot--and about who are our lead characters are as people. The slang was used a little too repetitively, but all that annoyance got lost once the action scenes would kick up again.

I'm making myself wait for the third, but I'm very excited to get there.

Book: Uglies

by Scott Westerfeld (2005).

Once again, Westerfeld comes through for me when I'm stuck in comic book limbo.

I don't think I'll end up loving this trilogy as fiercely as I love the Midnighters. But it's really good in its own way, and definitely worth taking the time. In fact, this book was pretty addictive. Everyone is likable, and everyone is flawed in ways that make them seem very real. The scifi stuff isn't bothersome (I'm not a huge fan of scifi in book form), and the dystopian society is really neat. Mostly, I just think it's awesome to teach kids about radical democracy and anarchism in the guise of a nail-biting thrill ride of a book.

Book: Zeroville

by Steve Erickson (2007).

I broke my book-buying ban for the new Erickson novel, because he is truly one of my favorites. This book was good, definitely worth buying, but not quite as powerful and relevatory as The Sea Came in at Midnight. Erickson deals with a lot of the same set pieces here: LA, punk music and the punk scene in NYC, the historical era of the 70s and 80s. But the plot is a little confusing, possibly because it tricks you into thinking it's realistic when it's actually surrealistic.

Still, this was an immensely enjoyable read, and I'll keep following Erickson's work.

Book: If on a winter's night a traveler

by Italo Calvino (1979).

I adore Calvino, ever since I read Invisible Cities in a writing class at Pratt.

This book is wonderful metafiction, writing about reading, ten unfinished novels, and the story of the Reader and the Other Reader, whose lives intersect as they keep chasing down books which have no endings. Calvino is a master--each novel is written in a different style, flawlessly, and at the same time, intertwined with larger hints and reflections of the big picture he's painting. I'll bet it's a favorite among grad students, one of those novels you could analyze and chart endlessly. For my part, I'm happy to note the stylistic sophistications as they pass underneath my eyes, and just keep reading.

Book: White Walls

by Tatyana Tolstaya (2007).

Brilliant, beautiful short stories. Tolstaya transforms normal situations and motivations into the bizarre, the fairytale, the sublime--she's very nearly the Russian Kelly Link. Favorites include: "Okkervil River," "Sleepwalker in a Fog," "Seraphim," "Limpopo," and the masterful "See the Other Side." (Actually I have even more favorites, but I don't have the table of contents in front of me.)

Unfortunately, in a volume with two translators, one is clearly the better at conveying both the feeling and the sense of a story.

Book: Lady Chatterley's Lover

by D. H. Lawrence (1928).

I loved the beginning of this book, with those little author asides (grand statements about the nature of women and freedom and all that). The middle bit was good as well, but a little less fun in that way. The British class and rank stuff is all foreign to me, but interesting. The sexy passages are indeed sexy. And, surprisingly, it ends on a hopeful note. I wasn't expecting that.

Book: Magic for Beginners

by Kelly Link (2005).

This one has been on my radar since before it was even published. Then I actually read a Kelly Link story ("The Faery Handbag," in The Faery Reel), and I cried and knew that I had to read more. I read a bunch of other stuff, then finally bought the book earlier this year, started it, put it down, came back and finished it in one night.

These stories are absolutely amazing. Heartbreaking. Simple, spare, intense. Weird. I don't know that I can describe them in more than single word sentences. They pull you along, you can't make sense of them but it doesn't matter--the images and ideas are so beautiful, so resonant, that you never really stop to question.

My favorite was the title story, which deals with a group of friends and their love of an underground TV show called The Library (which is like Buffy on crack), a boy who inherits a phone booth and Vegas wedding chapel, and his father who writes books about giant spiders.

***

Small Beer Press has made Link's first story collection, Stranger Things Happen, available as a free download.

Book: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell

by Susanna Clarke (2004).

A delightful and long (really long) novel about the Restoration of English Magic. It's been described as Tolkien meets Jane Austen, and that's pretty accurate, except Clarke is vastly more interesting than Tolkien. Indeed, few other authors could make 1000-plus pages of story consistently compelling. I didn't want to finish this book and leave this world, in the end.

(I'll just have to reread The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories for my English Magic fix.)

Book: The Historian

by Elizabeth Kostova (2005).

Bargain bin buy so I'd have a beach read when I went on vacation. Turns out I loved this book. I'm a big geek for historical research, monasteries, and really old books, so it's no wonder, really. This book reminded me of A.S. Byatt's Possession, and that's a big compliment. The story drags a bit in the middle, but picks back up again pretty quickly. The end in awesome, in that it subverts what you think the climax will be, and turns everything from a monster-hunting story into a family drama about people who are really lovely and worth being invested in.

Book: Firebirds Rising

edited by Sharyn November (2006).

Not a terrific anthology, but it had a few moments. The Kelly Link story, "The Wizards of Perfil," was probably my favorite. "I'll Give You My Word" by Diana Wynne Jones and "In the House of the Seven Librarians" by Ellen Klages were my other favorites. Some of the stories I skipped outright. The Francesca Lia Block story was nothing special. "The House on the Planet" by Tanith Lee surprised me, in a good way. Emma Bull's "What Used to be Good Still Is" not only has a really cool title, but it got me excited for her new novel, Territory.

Book: The Spiderwick Chronicles vol. 1: The Field Guide

by Holly Black and Tony DiTerlizzi (2003).

Super-fast but fun little read. The illustrations really made this book for me--reminded me of old Nancy Drew volumes (where the pictures have a quote from the text and then you read the chapter, wondering when you'll get to that sentence).

I wonder how many of the five books the movie will cover. The first book could be done very quickly onscreen, but who knows how it'll actually play out. Anyway, I'm excited to read more.

Book: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

by J. K. Rowling (2007).

Once upon a time there was a boy and a girl, and they were in many, many stories. They were in love, like really totally in love, but one or the other (or both) were charged with a Quest. And at the conclusion of this Quest, circumstances were such that they just couldn't be together, no matter how much love there had been.

The final book in the Harry Potter series is, thankfully, not that kind of story. It's a big story, and I could say a lot of things here about it. But the only really important thing, for me at this moment, is that it ends with love, with friendship and hope and life going on.

Of course, as another Hero once said, "The hardest thing about this world is having to live in it."

Book: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

by J.K. Rowling (2005).

I come really late to the Harry Potter fandom, mostly due to the fact that the books and movies became wildly popular while I was in college, and I didn't allow myself time to get hooked. But between the new movie, the last book of the series, and all my friends who adore HP, I wanted to jump on the bandwagon, for once, so as not to miss out.

12:01 am Saturday morning saw the release of the 7th book, but I had to read the 6th (the only story I knew nothing about), while waiting for Jenny to finish with her copy of the 7th. I plowed through book 6's 650-odd pages in less than a day.

I had been spoiled on one major thing back in 2005, but it didn't ruin any of my enjoyment--and that's a testament to how good these books are. Also compulsively readable, which I had forgotten in the 6 or so years since I read 1 through 3.

The story of the Half-Blood Prince works, in some ways, like part one of a two-part tv episode. Thinking back on it, there's not a huge amount of separate plot (as opposed to the first book, for instance). But it didn't read like that at the time. I guess it is also the story of the old guard imparting vital knowledge to the younger set, then stepping back and leaving them to the do the real work on their own. It's also about deception, double-crossing, and how maybe everyone is just as terrible as you had hoped they weren't (and I mean that all across the board, from Malfoy to Snape to Hermione and Ron)--much in the same way the story of book 5 is about how everyone is an orphan.

I said in my entry about the 5th movie that it had to be the loneliest sustained place in the plot; that prediction definitely bore out here. Everyone gets to have someone, even if they don't know it yet, even if they have to end it before taking the next step on the journey. Thank goodness for Rowling and her believable 16-year-olds. Thank goodness, also, for the quiet maturity and determination of Harry himself. I think he's earned that hero title a million times more than Frodo ever did.

And now I'm resuming my complete media lockdown, so I can finish book 7 without being spoiled.

Book: The Ruby in the Smoke

by Philip Pullman (1985).

Quick-reading Victorian mystery story from the author of my favorite series of fantasy books ever. This book in no way held up to the amazing-ness of His Dark Materials, but it was thoroughly enjoyable in its own right.

Sally Lockhart is a Victorian heroine after my own heart: smart, tough, capable, afraid but almost never paralyzed by her fear. She gets thrown into the middle of a double mystery, and rather than turn away from it, she plunges herself in with determination. A little bit of a Victorian-era Veronica Mars, you might say.

(This quality comes up in a lot of my favorite stories, and the best response, I think, is always to dive in straightaway. Your life is probably going to get fucked up anyway, if that mystery is knocking on your door, so there's no point in playing ostrich and thinking you'll stay safe. Just turn around and face it head on, and you save yourself the time, the crying/denying/hiding/etc. Plus your dignity.)

And now I get to watch the BBC filmed version of the story, starring Billie Piper, my all-time favorite companion.

Book: A Natural History of the Senses

by Diane Ackerman (1994).

One of my new favorite works of non-fiction. Ackerman plumbs the depth and expands the breadth of each of our five senses. She uses poetry, science, art, analysis, and many wonderful anecdotes to tease out truths (as opposed to mere facts) about human sense and sensation.

She clearly embraces her own senses, and emerges in the book as lovingly devoted to creating and capturing moments of sensual delight. When she writes about seeing, or smelling, or tasting, something particularly wonderful, she enhances the reader's own sense of sensing.

This book left me feeling very inspired, and that's something I both appreciate, and desperately want more of.

Book: Strapless

John Singer Sargent and the Fall of Madame X by Deborah Davis (2003).

Madame X is one of my favorite paintings, but until I heard about this book a few years ago, I never knew there was the story of a scandal behind it.

Virginie Amélie Avegno Gautreau, called Amélie by her friends, originally appeared in the portrait with one strap of her luscious black dress hanging off her shoulder. When exhibited at the Paris Salon of 1884, it shocked and offended the fickle French. Both painter and model were disparaged in major news sources.

Davis tells the story of Amélie and Sargent, the history of the painting, and what happened at the end of it all. She evokes late 19th century Paris with style and grace, making the book a compelling read. And yet, little actually happened. No lives were ruined, only hampered briefly.

Still, it's refreshing to read this story, which was lost to history until rather recently. Sargent repainted the strap to sit demurely on her shoulder, and only a photograph and an engraving of the painting as originally displayed survive today. Davis does well to leave out any feminist implications, instead letting her work of uncovering Amélie's history speak for itself.