Review: GHOST LIGHTS, by Lydia Millet

Ghost Lights, by Lydia Millet. Published 2012 by W.W. Norton & Company. Literary Fiction.

Ghost Lights is the second volume of Lydia Millet's "Extinction" trilogy and like many second volumes it serves as a transition from the first to the third. The first book, How the Dead Dream, tells the story of T., a man who goes from capitalist to conservationist and then gets lost in the jungles of Belize after a storm destroys a resort he's trying to build. The second book picks up the action after T.'s disappearance but is told from the point of view of Hal, the husband of T.'s assistant Susan, and Hal is a ghost light of a kind, a transient figure who is seen and then disappears.

Hal has never had a high opinion of T., but he volunteers to go to Belize to find T. after Hal finds out that Susan has been having an affair with a younger coworker and that their daughter is working as a phone sex operator. Confused and feeling like a ghost in his own life, he makes the trip thinking it will just be a chance to get away and that he won't find T. at all. He feels like an invisible presence in the life of his family, whom he doesn't recognize anymore.

Millet is an excellent writer, kind of like a mid-career Margaret Atwood before speculative fiction took over her canon. Ghost Lights isn't as flashy as How the Dead Dream, or the splendid final volume of the series, Magnificence, which I read when it came out and plan to re-read. Those two were unforgettable for me, and I can't say I loved Ghost Lights though I think it plays an important role in the series. It is a crucial pass-through point, not just answering questions asked in the first book and setting up the third, but spotlighting a man who feels unobserved in his own life, a shadow of what he imagined he would be. Hal is a man who's been passed through, passed by.  It is a quiet and quietly profound study of family, mid-life crisis and what happens when you realize the people you love aren't what you assumed they were, and find out they are the people they have always been after all.  If that makes sense, I strongly recommend the whole series.

Rating: BACKLIST

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

Review: THE INFINITE WAIT AND OTHER STORIES, by Julia Wertz

The Infinite Wait and Other Stories, by Julia Wertz. Published 2012 by Koyama Press. Graphica. Memoir.

I've been a fan of Julia Wertz since reading her first book, The Fart Party, which I reviewed here back in 2008. I got to interview her once for this blog, and when my husband went on a business trip to Brussels, the thing he found to bring me was a French translation of her comics.  This book isn't her most recent (that would be 2014's Museum of Mistakes, a collection of Fart Party comics) but it's a great introduction to her style and sensibility.

The Fart Party books are about her relationship with and breakup from a man named Oliver, as well as about her life in San Francisco and moving to New York City. (I just moved to New York so maybe I need to re-read that one.) They are crass, childish and full of swears. They are also very very funny and I love them. This book has less scatalogical and swear-word content than the Fart Party books but it's still definitely one for the grownups. I say this because there are still lots of people who think graphic-books are for children.

The Infinite Wait is comprised of three stories- two longer stories, one about working in restaurants and the other about how she started writing and drawing comics after coming down with Lupus at the age of 20, and a short about her love of libraries. As a librarian this last story warmed my heart of course but I loved the first two for telling me more about the woman behind Fart Party. Her adventures in restaurant work remind me of mine in retail and I'm grateful that she shared her personal struggle with chronic illness. Chronic illness is an issue that is often misunderstood and the people who suffer from it don't always get the understanding they need and deserve. I hope that Wertz's story can go some way to changing some perspectives.  She tells her story, plain and unpretentious, and that's what I've always loved about her writing.

So, I think you should pick this up if you like graphic memoirs and slice-of-life style graphic books. Obviously if you're a fan of hers you should read it. I'm a fan, so.

Rating: BEACH

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

Book Review: SEVEN HOUSES IN FRANCE, by Bernardo Atxaga

Seven Houses in France, by Bernardo Atxaga. Published 2012 by Graywolf Press. Trans. from Spanish. Literary fiction.

Seven Houses in France is not like any book you've read in a while, no matter what you read. Set in the Belgian Congo in 1903 at the height of Belgian colonial presence, it's a satire about a bunch of pretty unlikeable people- racist, violent, ignorant- and the story tells of sex, murder, revenge and greed. Captain Lalande Biran smuggles mahogany and ivory to satisfy his wife Christine's voracious need for money and status; the "seven houses" are hers. Fawning Donatien wants to open a brothel back in Belgium and is haunted by the voices of his possibly non-existent siblings. Coco lusts after the captain's wife after seeing a photo in the captain's quarters and schemes to win her for himself. Livo, their African servant, seethes with hatred and the new guy, Chrystosome Liege, is an uptight and fervently religious sharpshooter from the sticks (Brittany) who throws everything out of whack with his piety and his love for an African girl.

That said, the book is essentially a comic farce in which comeuppance comes in heaping bowlfuls and revenge is a frozen dessert.

I really enjoyed this book for the satire and the character studies. It's like Atxaga threw his characters in a blender, flipped the switch and just tells us what happened. It's more accessible than Obabakoak, the last book of his I read, which was a collection of loosely-related anecdotes and stories, but reading Seven Houses makes me want to give Obabakoak another chance. Atxaga is a Basque writer but doesn't always set his books in the Basque region, although he writes in Basque and either translates to Spanish himself or collaborates on the translation. His books typically come to English from their Spanish translations. Which doesn't mean anything, but it's interesting. Seven Houses isn't a book I'll keep forever, but I'm glad I read it, and I want to read more Atxaga. He's different, and fun.

Rating: BEACH

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

Review: CLIMATES, by Andre Maurois

Climates, by Andre Maurois. Published 2012 by Other Press. Literary Fiction. Translated from the French.

Climates was originally published in 1928 but not brought out in English until 2012. Author Andre Maurois was an acclaimed biographer, historian and writer who wore many hats; this novel is a somewhat melodramatic story of a marriage, or two marriages, each destined to founder due to nothing more than the vagaries of the human heart.

The novel is told in two parts, the first from the point of view of French industrialist Philippe Marcenat, who falls in love with the mercurial, beautiful Odile and makes her his wife. But the lively and changeable Odile can't content herself with bourgeois life. Philippe watches while she falls for another man and their childless marriage comes to an end. Philippe is devoted to Odile but is almost passive as she moves in society and takes a lover right under his nose.When she leaves him, it's almost like she was never there.

And yet she remains a strong presence in his life, a ghost who infects his subsequent relationships. The second part of the book is told from the point of view of Isabelle, Philippe's second wife, who could not be more different from the playful and outgoing Odile. Isabelle had a harsh childhood that has rendered her into an introverted and un-confident adult, a woman who dreads social engagement and wants above all to live a quiet life with her husband, whom she adores. She also watches her beloved fall into an affair with the very Odile-like Solange Villiers, a married woman and formidable society figure who does as she pleases, seeing her husband only a few weeks each year. But Isabelle isn't so passive as Philippe after all, and her fate is going to be different from either that of her husband or his first wife.

Climates is a very engaging and psychologically astute novel, about love and the sacrifices people are willing to make for their beloved and for their ideal of love, as well as how they handle the reality of love. It reminded me of a soap opera in that it is primarily about people who have little to do except worry about their love life, about women with little to occupy them to who turn to intrigue and gossip, and people who let their imaginations run wild with jealousy and the constant struggle to interpret their beloved's every word and action. It is a very romantic book in that it depicts the vagaries of romantic love, its moods and appetites and the different ways it shows itself. Solange Villiers is a very intriguing character, a sexually frank woman who controls her life rather than letting it be controlled, and such a contrast to either the girlish Odile or the pathologically timid Isabelle. Climates would be a wonderful literary beach book- smart and fluffy at the same time, perfect for daydreaming on a languorous summer's day when you don't have a care in the world.

Rating: BEACH

FTC Disclosure: I received this book from Other Press.

Review: WHY BE HAPPY WHEN YOU COULD BE NORMAL? by Jeanette Winterson

Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? by Jeanette Winterson. Nonfiction. Memoir. Published 2012 by Grove Atlantic.

So it seems to be Jeanette Winterson Week here on Boston Bibliophile. Could be worse. I mean, Winterson is one of the best living writers in English. I bought this book, her memoir, when it came out but it took me until late last year to read it. After I read The Daylight Gate I knew I couldn't wait any longer, and I'm sorry I waited as long as I did.

Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? is really the story of Winterson's three mothers- Constance Winterson, who raised her and who is referred to throughout as "Mrs. Winterson," Winterson's biological mother, and her third mother which is literature, which first saved her life and then gave her a living.

Winterson is adopted as a baby by a working-class Manchester couple who are religious fundamentalists and abuse her horribly. Mrs. Winterson locks her out of the house repeatedly, beats her, instructs her husband to beat her and torments her psychologically. Young Jeanette takes refuge in books and reading, forbidden in her house as all she's allowed to read is the Bible. She has a relationship with a female friend and soon realizes what she's always known, that she has to leave home. As a teenager Jeanette runs away and with the help of teachers gets accepted to Oxford. From there she begins to develop as a writer and as a person. Not surprisingly she has a lot of anger to deal with.

As adult Winterson decides to take on the task of finding her biological mother, and this process occupies the final third of the book. The narrative structure is more or less chronological but not strictly so, and the tone and style of the book feels similar to much of her fiction, at times highly descriptive and impressionistic and at others more focused and forward-moving. Winterson's painful relationship with Mrs. Winterson is hard to read sometimes; my heart broke repeatedly for the little girl looking for love from a mother incapable of giving it.

The book has obvious appeal for adoptees but I think Winterson's search, which is for home in many senses of the word, is something almost everyone can relate to in some ways. The depth of alienation she feels from her parents is profound, and she does not find much solace in her biological family, but I got the impression that she has found a home and a family in her adult relationships and the book ends on notes of hard-earned peace and contentment. I was very moved and affected by her story, and I would recommend it to her fans and those of memoir but also to any reader looking for a beautifully written, if sometimes dark, family story.

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

Review: DANIEL STEIN, INTERPRETER, by Ludmila Ulitskaya

Daniel Stein, Interpreter, by Ludmila Ulitskaya. Published 2012 by Overlook. Literary Fiction. Translated from the Russian.

Daniel Stein, Interpreter, is a "novel in documents," a kind of epistolary fictional meditation on the life of a Polish Jew named Daniel Stein who survives the Holocaust and World War 2 by, among other things, translating for the Gestapo. Then during the war he saves the lives of 300 Jews during a raid and eventually becomes a Catholic priest and moves to Israel. Daniel's story is based on that of a real man, Oswald Rufeisen, and while the character Daniel is based on him, Daniel is not he himself. Award-winning Russian writer Ludmila Ulitskaya tells Daniel's story through letters, diaries and official documents and thus the story shifts both in time and perspective. Over the course of the novel connections form between the characters, who seem disparate and diverse at first but who are all connected through a small Polish community torn apart by murder.

The book starts with Ewa Manukyan, a Polish woman searching for information on her father. Her mother Rita is a difficult, unlikeable woman, aging and needy, who had in her youth a reputation as a ferocious soldier. Ewa cannot relate to her at all, and she begins a friendship with Esther Gantman, a wealthy exile living in Boston who, together with her late husband, worked in the Polish ghetto of Emsk during the war. Ewa and Esther's story connects with others, who then connect with Daniel Stein, the enigmatic man at the center of this very complex story.

Brother Daniel's story starts as one of shifting identity. He hides in plain sight by pretending to be Polish; a gifted linguist, he speaks German and Polish fluently and is an accomplished horseman. He works for the Gestapo but tries to undermine them at the same time; he finds both danger and friendship in this life, and has to make heartbreaking choices with consequences that will haunt him for the rest of his life. After the war he establishes a church in Israel that attempts to return to a time before Christianity split from its Jewish founders and then with itself.

In doing so, he steps into the quagmire of Israel's many religious sects and their zealots. He runs afoul of the Catholic Church with some unorthodox preaching and he runs afoul of the state of Israel by asking for Israeli citizenship as a returned Jew. But he has friends. His followers love him; his assistant Hilda, a German woman who has made a home for herself in the desert, would, it seems, follow him to the ends of the earth but her love for him isn't romantic. That she shares with Musa, an Arab Christian who also assists Brother Daniel's ministry. And Brother Daniel has a powerful friend in his boyhood acquaintance Karol, who ascends to the highest office the Church has to offer. Over the years his life intersects with many lives, and Ulitskaya tells their stories alongside his; they embellish each other and create a detailed panorama of life during and after the war.

I loved this book, and so did many, but it has been criticized, too. Some have said that Daniel is a distant figure, that we never get close to him, and because this is an essentially epistolary novel we see Daniel either through the eyes of others as mediated by whatever form Ulitskaya is using, or through his own public statements, so I think that's a valid observation but it doesn't limit the book's power for me. I think she means to hold him at a distance, to make him unknowable even as she meditates on him. The book has also received criticism for its negative portrayal of life in Israel in the years following World War 2- the inflexibility of its government and the fractiousness of its people. I would agree that she does not portray Israel as a paradise but I'm not sure that's a valid critique of the novel as such.

So yeah, I loved it. Reading Ulitskaya is always a treat and unfortunately only four of her many books are available in English. I've read two others and I have the fourth on the shelf. I almost don't want to read it right away because then I'm all out! I loved this book for its characters and the way Ulitskaya unwinds their relationships, and I loved the way they evolve and grow. The characters have distinct voices, problems, perspectives and limitations; Daniel himself lurks in every story even when he's not mentioned explicitly. Ulitskaya uses these other people as lenses through which to see and understand him, to work out what made him tick and how he became this strange and unusual person. And I drank in every word. It's very character-driven as you might guess, very emotional too. Ulitskaya deals with a lot of heavy issues that will raise strong emotions in many readers. As a Catholic with a Pope who seems to value compassion as highly as dogma, it was fascinating to read about a priest similarly inclined, set at a time when religious movements were actively staking claim to land and followers based on dogma. And I want to learn more about Rufeisen, the man behind the story. And I want to read more Ulitskaya. Actually, I can't wait to!

A serious and moving literary novel, Daniel Stein is definitely one of my favorites of 2013.

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

Review: LONDON UNDER, by Peter Ackroyd

London Under, by Peter Ackroyd. Published 2012 by Anchor. Nonfiction.

So I figured I didn't really have time for Peter Ackroyd's massive London: A Biography, but I wanted to get some background of the city before I visit in the fall, so I picked up his companion volume, a short book about the history of the city under the city- the rivers that flow beneath the streets, the ruins, and of course the Tube. Due to some sedimentary features of the city and environs there are layers upon layers of stuff down there. Ackroyd gives us a little tour.

It's pretty interesting, too. I learned a little about Roman London, about the network of rivers that mirror the streets above, the history of the sewer system, the growth of public transportation and with it urban life, and more. Ackroyd writes in a lively and entertaining style, treating the city like a character with secrets and a past- which it does have. He talks about excavations that were done during this or that period of construction and the things that people found- as well as the things that people buried, like other people, neglected Tube stations, emergency-preparedness centers and more. Some of these places you can visit today; others are barred or restricted, or too dangerous for the public.

It's all fascinating. If you're interested in London and have read about it or been there, I definitely recommend the book but it seemed like it was better for someone with a little experience of the city. I think I should have waited to read it until I knew more about the city, maybe until after my visit, and I may very well re-read it once I've been there. It's neat and you'll learn a lot though!

Rating: BEACH

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

Review: DOUBLE CROSS, by Ben Macintyre

Double Cross: The True Story of the D-Day Spies, by Ben Macintyre. Published 2012 by Broadway. Nonfiction.

Earlier this year I read the great book Agent Zigzag, about World War 2 double agent Eddie Chapman, an Englishman recruited by the Germans to spy on the British, then recruited by the British to spy on them. Chapman was part of a program run by MI5 called Double Cross, a system that  MI5 used to feed misinformation to the Germans throughout the war, involving many agents from different walks of life. These agents were used in a variety of operations, the most spectacular of which was the deception leading up to the invasion of Normandy, the crucial turning point for the Allies on their way to victory.

Double Cross tells the story of the program and the way that five agents planted the deception and helped it grow. Dushko Popov, a Serbian playboy, Lilli Sergeyev, a Franco-Russian artist, Elvira Chaudois, a Peruvian socialite, Juan Pujol Garcia, a Spanish civil servant, and Roman Czerniawski, a Polish military intelligence officer, worked independently with MI5 handlers to manipulate agents of the Abwehr, the German intelligence agency, into believing that the D-Day landing would take place on the Pas de Calais and not the Normandy beaches. A sixth agent, Johnny Jebsen, was also pivotal to the deception and could be said to be the true hero of the Double Cross system; Macintyre also tells his story here, and it's one you won't forget.

The story of Double Cross is really the story of the relationships between the spies and their handlers, both German and British, and Macintyre tells us much about how both intelligence services worked. We meet characters like Thomas Argyll "Tar" Robertson, head of the Double Cross system and other handlers like John Masterman and Guy Liddell. How they did or didn't get along with their charges would have a big influence on the success of the deception. Macintyre goes into each agent's story in detail so by the time they are needed for the D-Day operation, we know their stories in depth. Macintyre also tells us about other aspects of the deception, such as the story of the double-agent pigeons and various crises that threaten to blow the whole thing.

I loved this book. I was hooked on it from beginning to end and hung on every word. John Lee, narrator of the audio, does a great job holding the listener's attention. He brings the characters to life with accents and mannerisms that flesh them out without being distracting. He is particularly effective with the more comic elements of the story also. There is just so much to enjoy about this book. Macintyre's writing is fresh, engaging and accessible; he combines the thorough research of a top-notch journalist with the punchy writing of a detective novelist into a thoroughly enjoyable, fascinating and memorable package. I've already bought his book Operation Mincemeat and can't wait to get to it. There are so many crazy stories behind World War 2, so many improbable, unlikely and just plain bizarre things that went on and Macintyre illuminates a corner of the espionage game here and in his other books.  If you are interested in World War 2 history you have to read this guy!

Rating: BUY!!!!

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

Review: WINTER JOURNAL, by Paul Auster

Winter Journal, by Paul Auster. Published 2012 by Henry Holt. Nonfiction. Memoir. Audiobook narrated by the author.

I've been a fan of author Paul Auster since college; after I read The New York Trilogy I was hooked for life. Which is not to say I've kept up with his fiction completely because I haven't but every now and then I dip in to his work and always enjoy it. Naturally I was intrigued by his memoir and the good reviews it got. And it did not disappoint.

Auster tells the story of his life (so far) in the second person- "you," which was alarming at first but I settled into it quickly. If anything, and maybe particularly because I listened to the book, it was nice not to hear "I, I, I" over and over. Narrating it in the second person created an intimacy and an immediacy the first person could not, because it forced me as the listener/reader to place myself within the story.

And it's a very engaging story. For the first part of the book, Auster uses the many places he has lived as a framing device. We go with him from his parents' house to various apartments both in the United States and France, where he lived on and off for years, to his home with his first wife (unnamed in the text but she was Lydia Davis, the renowned author and translator), then his second (respected writer Siri Hustvedt), along with his two children. All this comes to an end with the death of his mother, clearly a central event in his life. After the death of his mother the narrative loosens and becomes a series of anecdotes and stories about her, his father, his childhood and his later life with Hustvedt and the family they create.

I followed every word with interest. Auster tells his story beautifully, full of detail and character and personality. He also reads it very well; he's an excellent narrator of his own story. Sometimes I get a little nervous when I see "narrated by the author" on an audio book because narration is a particular skill that's sometimes best left to professional actors, but Auster carries it off with polish.  In the end Winter Journal is a very moving and engaging meditation on life, love, family and coming to the end of life. For memoir and biography fans, and fans of Auster, I can't recommend it highly enough.

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

REVIEW: Never Mind, by Edward St. Aubyn

Never Mind, by Edward St. Aubyn. Published as The Patrick Melrose Novels, 2012, Picador. Literary fiction.

Never Mind is the first of five novels by English writer Edward St. Aubyn to focus on the highly dysfunctional Melrose family- paterfamilias David, a monster of the declining British upper class, his fragile and drunk American wife Eleanor whose money props the family up, and little Patrick, just five as the story opens.

The book covers just a day and a night at the family home and gives enough back story to set the reader up comfortably. You might not be as comfortable with the people, only because they are so unfortunately awful. Really awful. If you need to like the characters you read about, or approve of their choices, or sympathize with their point of view, this isn't the book for you, although you probably will feel for little Patrick, at the mercy of horrible David and useless Eleanor.

The setting is a dinner party, and the cast of characters includes, in addition to the nuclear Melrose family, an older aristocrat and his young girlfriend, and a philosophy professor and his very nice lady friend. Each of these people has a complicated relationship with the others, and St. Aubyn's economical and stylish prose establishes these relationships crisply. He switches perspectives often, so we get to know how they see themselves and each other. It was fascinating.

And then there's the writing. Oh my, the writing. St. Aubyn is a marvelous stylist. On some pages I wanted to quote every other line. Describing David Melrose's appearance, and his personality, St. Aubyn writes, "the expression that men feel entitled to wear when they stare out of a cold English drawing  room onto their own land had grown stubborn over five centuries and perfected itself in David's face." Describing the Melrose marriage he says "At the beginning, there had been talk of using some of her money to start a home for alcoholics. In a sense they had succeeded." Sometimes St. Aubyn's tartness takes on the tone of horror, like when David muses that his only crime as a parent was "to set about his son's education too assiduously. He was conscious of already being sixty, there was so much to teach him and so little time." This reverie will sound innocent enough until you read the book and understand exactly what he considers educational.

As horrified as I was by the behavior of the Melroses, I really enjoyed this book and I look forward to reading more. I love that Picador published the compendium of the first four books. The final installment, At Last, is out in paperback now. If you're up for some adventurous and edgy literary fiction, check out Never Mind.

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

REVIEW: Magnificence, by Lydia Millet

Magnificence, by Lydia Millet. Published 2012 by W.W. Norton. Literary Fiction.

Magnificence is a quiet novel, luminous and strange, about a woman dealing with grief and making a new life for herself after the sudden death of her husband in a foreign country. This premise did not sound promising to me as I picked the book up, as I'm not overly fond of coming-to-terms-with-grief stories about husbands dying, but once I gave it a chance, i found it to be a truly remarkable and lovely novel.

Susan Lindley goes to meet her husband Hal at the airport. He's supposed to be coming back from a trip to South America to rescue her errant boss T., midlife-crisis victim. With her is her daughter Casey. Casey is disabled following an accident and this is important because Casey's side of the story is also about finding her place in the world. But we'll get back to Casey later. So, Hal does come back, but he comes back in a box. At the same time, a distant relative of Susan's has also died, and he has left her a surprise- an inheritance in the form of a mansion filled with taxidermy.

Susan decides to live in the house and little by little learns its secrets and takes it on as a way to immerse herself in something. Susan has a lot of issues to deal with, including her own serial adultery and guilt concerning her daughter. But Casey is better than her mother thinks, and may even surprise her by the end of the book. Meanwhile the house becomes a kind of gathering place for misfits of various kinds- Susan's new lover, T.'s mother and Susan's envious cousins who want to take the house away from her.

I don't want to say much more. I didn't know anything about this book when I picked it up and found that I really just loved it, and I loved all the twists and turns and surprises it offers. The writing is beautiful and literary in style; it's driven by character first and foremost but Millet is a lovely stylist and offers some nice insights into what it means to be a wife, mother, lover, and woman. I felt kind of sorry for Susan and her transgressions didn't bother me because they seemed to be a way of searching. The house is really what she was looking for all along, the house and what's housed in side, who's housed, and what it all means. Magnificence is the third book in Millet's series about these characters; the previous two, How the Dead Dream and Ghost Lights, focus on T. and Hal respectively, and I do want to read those and see how they all fit together. I would say though that Magnificence stands beautifully alone.

It'll almost certainly show up in my top favorites of the year.

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

REVIEW: The Eyes of Venice, by Alessandro Barbero

The Eyes of Venice, by Alessandro Barbero. Published 2012 by Europa Editions. Literary Fiction. Translation.

The Eyes of Venice is a very long, very detailed historical novel set in 16th century Venice and its environs, about the diverging fates of a husband and wife separated by chance. Michele is a master mason and just married to the lovely Bianca; the family was doing okay until Michele's father died while being pursued by the police. Michele, also pursued, escapes by jumping on board a ship and impulsively volunteering himself as a galleyman, a rower. Before long he's set sail for parts unknown, leaving his wife behind- his wife who has no idea where he is or if she'll ever see him again.

The narration then alternates between Michele and Bianca in long sections. Several chapters will focus on one, then the other, then back again. Michele adjusts to shipboard life, with all its privations and difficulties. Barbero's passages about life on ships, its rules and customs, were fascinating. He meets people from all over the Mediterranean, opening his mind and altering his perspectives. And he gets himself involved in a grisly plot to steal a great deal of money, which will put him in a great deal of danger. Meanwhile, Bianca is trying to keep herself employed and fed and avoid the abuses that await unattached women. After some false starts, she finds a good position as a maid to an influential and kind Venetian noblewoman who may even be able to reunite her with Michele.

I'm not going to lie to you. I did not read the whole book. I skipped three chapters towards the end that narrated some detailed Venetian politics not wholly germane to the central plot. This is a very long book with a great deal of historical detail concerning the social customs and politics of Venice, and students of Italian history will relish the depth Barbero brings. For me, the best parts of the book had to do with Michele's encounters with the non-Christian world and Bianca's chapters. Michele is a rather passive person- things happen to him but he takes little initiative.

I'd recommend the book to readers of the Sarah Dunant type of light, plot-driven historical fiction. I liked the book, and I learned some things, and I think it would be a great book for a vacation or a time when you can really carve out the space for it.

This is my second book for the 2013 Europa Challenge!

Rating: BACKLIST

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

REVIEW: Have You Seen Marie? by Sandra Cisneros

Have You Seen Marie? by Sandra Cisneros, with ilustrations by Ester Hernández. Published 2012 by Alfred A. Knopf. Nonfiction.

I had to read and review this because I love Sandra Cisneros and because it's a Marie book. It's also about a cat, a fact I discovered once I flipped through it a little. So, that's shooting fish in a barrel right there.

But humor aside, Have You Seen Marie? is actually a beautiful little book, easy to read in a sitting and filled with lovely pastels by San Francisco artist Ester Hernández. Think of it as a picture book about grief and loss for adults. The book tells the story of a woman named Sandra who loses her mother, then loses her cat Marie.

She and her friend Roz go looking for the cat. The two women poster, knock on doors, and call and call, searching for the cat. Along the way they touch base with neighbors and old friends, and get to know their entire community.  After her mother's death, Sandra "felt like a glove left behind at the bus station." Roz is the only person she knows in Texas, but after a day of searching that's not true anymore. Losing the cat forces her other loss to the fore and she has to begin to experience loss in order to begin to learn to live with it.

"There is no getting over death," Cisneros writes in the Afterword, "only learning how to travel alongside it." This book would be a lovely, thoughtful gift for yourself or for anyone you know who is experiencing loss. I know I'll keep it on my bedside table probably forever.

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

REVIEW: The Islanders, by Christopher Priest

The Islanders, by Christopher Priest. Published 2012 by Gollancz. Science Fiction.

The Islanders is one of the strangest and most challenging books I've read in a long time. Let's just say if you thought Cloud Atlas was easy and kind of dull, The Islanders would be a great book for you.

Christopher Priest is one of our greatest living writers of science fiction, not that I even know enough about SF to say that, but I'll say it anyway, and I challenge anyone to dispute me. Go on, bring it. He started off writing pretty standard SF but has progressed over the years to difficult puzzle books, books that you can't say you've read until you've read them at least twice. With The Islanders, I think three times is probably the minimum.

I picked it up after hearing it described as "Nabokovian" and Christopher Priest is one of the few authors who actually deserves the comparison. The book starts immediately, and I mean before the first page, with the dedication. The Islanders sets itself up as a gazetteer of a fictional place called the Dream Archipelago, a huge chain of islands stretching around an imaginary globe. No one knows how many islands there are in the Archipelago, their exact terrain, population, etc.; some of the islands have multiple names and it's hard even to say which is the "true" one. Then there's that word, "true." It's one that you'd best let go of, since absolutely nothing is what it seems in Priest's twisty universe. Or is it? Maybe some of it?

The book starts out with an introduction by a man named Chaster Kammeston, who later, um, seems like he wouldn't be in a position to write it at all. (Or...?) Then we go through many islands, one at a time, and slowly a narrative emerges about a murder and more. Characters who don't seem important turn out to be crucial; misdirection abounds. The style varies. Dry reference alternates with weird short stories that intersect and overlap. In one, Priest invents the thryme, a horrific creature which will haunt your nightmares as it has mine. Later he'll chill you to the bone with a  Lovecraftian tale of madness and solitude. We learn about a process enabling immortality, an enigmatic painter who leaves a trail of bodies in his wake, a temperamental theater performer, a writer and his twin, and a woman who wants to turn the islands themselves into musical instruments. And then there's that murder.

If you've read Priest before you'll recognize some of the motifs, like twins and the theater, artists and what it means to create. If not, buckle up. This book confounded me, confused me, flipped me around and landed me back on the ground only to want to start the whole crazy ride all over again. I've only read the book once so by my own standards I can't be said to have read it at all. I need to go back to this wonderful, puzzling and infuriating book. I have to. And you need to get started on your first go-through, like right now.

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

REVIEW: The Colour of Milk, by Nell Leyshon

The Colour of Milk, by Nell Leyshon. Published 2012 by Ecco. Literary Fiction.

"this is my book and i am writing it by my own hand."

So begins the testament of Mary, a young girl aged fifteen as she writes. It's 1831 and, instilled with a sense of urgency that we don't understand right away, she tells us she's the daughter of a bitter man with a house full of girls, cast off to be the servant of a pastor and his reclusive wife. Bright, a hard worker and just a little rebellious, Mary endeavors to work hard- making bread, cleaning, taking care of the "mrs." as she calls the pastor's wife, suffering from a nameless illness and confined to her bed. Hard work is the only life she's ever known, and all she expects to know.

But Mary has some adjustments to make at her new home. She misses her family, especially her grandfather, the only person to ever show her love. She misses her sisters, especially one who is pregnant by the pastor's son. And she has a hard time assimilating the relative luxury of the new place. She also has a hard time with the pastor, who doesn't abuse her exactly- at least not at first- but who doesn't seem to understand that Mary is not an automaton, that she has feelings and a will of her own. Too bad for him. But he does teach her to read and write, and so she is able to tell us her story.

The Colour of Milk has been compared to Margaret Atwood's Alias Grace in the way Leyshon deals with themes of power and submission, and class and gender conflict. The comparison is apt but The Colour of Milk is a much less complex book than Atwood's searing masterwork. There's no real ambiguity here, no real question about what happens- just Mary telling her tale in that naive, straightforward style. The writing strikes me as the literary equivalent of folk art- simple but masking a rich inner life. I enjoyed reading the book, watching Mary's world unfold and the course of her life along with it. The action moved at a smooth pace and the suspense, though muted, whispered its presence throughout. At a mere 176 pages, it's a relatively quick read and lots of readers will be intrigued and won over by Mary's simple story, as timeless and universal as it is unique.

Rating: BACKLIST

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

REVIEW: Quiet, by Susan Cain

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, by Susan Cain. Published 2012 by Crown. Read by Kathe Mazur. Nonfiction. Business.

Like 1/3 or so of you, I'm an introvert. I like to be alone; I enjoy solitary activities like crafts and reading; I need my "down time" after a lot of time interacting with people. I always eat lunch by myself, for example, and appreciate time to unwind alone before my husband comes home from work. I was drawn to Susan Cain's fascinating book because I think I was looking for validation, and while I certainly found that, I also found a lot more.

Cain's discussion is quite wide-ranging. She starts out with a discussion of the history of the "extrovert ideal" in American culture in the late nineteenth and early 20th century, with the rise of cities and corporate culture. All of a sudden, the quiet, contemplative life was replaced with the go-getter fast track. People were told to be outgoing, forthright, aggressive self-promoters- and told that this was the only way to be, that anything else was unacceptable. Advertising grew by creating new reasons for Americans to feel insecure; personal hygiene and appearance mattered suddenly, and so did personality. Dale Carnegie started the self-help industry with his classic How to Win Friends and Influence People, which continues to be influential today with its tips and tricks for the shy and socially awkward. I've used the book myself to help learn easy ways to start conversations. Cain continues by profiling several prominent organizations, including Harvard Business School and Tony Robbins' seminars, that encourage and promote the extrovert ideal. Then she spends the rest of the book examining the psychological and physiological underpinnings of introversion, extroversion and introversion on a broader cultural scale and finishes by discussing how personality styles can influence family dynamics.

All in all, I found the book to be really interesting. I found most of it to be well-argued and supported, and I really appreciated the thoughtfulness she brings to the subject. As I was listening (I listened to the audiobook) I was thinking about where I fit in in all this, which personality traits and habits I recognized in myself. I can be quite outgoing when I'm doing something I care about, like when I'm at work, and I love having big parties and lots of friends, so I'm not 100% introverted, but I still saw myself in a lot of Cain's insights about how introversion works. And I don't think my extroverted side is really inconsistent with my introverted side after hearing the theory about "free traits" and how introverts (and extroverts) can adjust their personalities to their present circumstances. I was also thinking about my husband, a lawyer like Cain, and how he might appreciate her insights about their shared professional background.

I'd definitely recommend Quiet to introverts who could gain a better understanding of themselves but also to extroverts, who could better understand the quieter half of the room and appreciate what they have to offer. Even though she's quoting studies and talking about some pretty serious science, her style is accessible and no special background is needed. It's informative, fun to read and chock full of information for people all along the personality spectrum.

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

REVIEW: The Twelve Tribes of Hattie, by Ayana Mathis

The Twelve Tribes of Hattie, by Ayana Mathis. Published 2012 by Knopf.

I usually don't think of myself as the "Oprah Book" type- I'm way too snobby for that, right?- but the truth is I love that Oprah Winfrey does so much to encourage reading and sometimes I even love the books she picks out. The last time I read an Oprah pick that wasn't a classic I knew, like Anna Karenina, was way back when she picked Anne-Marie MacDonald's Fall On Your Knees. I don't know exactly what it was, but something about the way she described that book really made me want to read it. And you know what? I really enjoyed it.

And I really enjoyed her latest pick, The Twelve Tribes of Hattie. Last Friday Shelf Awareness announced the pick, and that the book would be going on sale ahead of its scheduled January 2013 release. That very day I was visiting Odyssey Bookshop in South Hadley, Mass., and decided to pick it up.

The story follows the life and family of Hattie Shepherd and her husband, August. Hattie comes north from Georgia to Philadelphia has part of the great migration of African-Americans so well documented in the recent bestseller The Warmth of Other Suns, by Isabel Wilkerson.  That book was compelling history; this is compelling fiction building on that true story. She marries August when she's still a teen and their difficult relationship and many children form the backbone of the book. You could almost approach the book as a collection of short stories. Each chapter focuses on one or two people and bumps forward a little in time, giving the book both personal and historic scope. Settings range from church revivals in the South to a wealthy suburban home to Vietnam to one woman's skewed interior life; among Hattie's children are a musician, a soldier, a housewife, and more. They all struggle with secrets, illnesses, loneliness and a desperate need to be loved.

Hattie herself is like a shadow in many of these stories, her echo sounding in each difficult, painful life. There's hope too- there's an unexpected recovery, a peace that comes after much heartache, and finally the chance that the future will be better for some. Mathis's writing is beautiful and confident; she moves from one voice and scene to the next with ease and creates rich characters and vivid settings. She gets to the heart of these people, gets their voices just right and gives each one a unique perspective and personality. The chapters she devotes to Hattie in particular made me feel like I really knew this person, this frustrated and tired and disappointed woman who was never able to show her children any love. On the surface she might almost be unlikeable, except we know her too well for that.

I think even without Oprah's imprimatur this book would have done well and reached a lot of readers but now it will be the hit it should be. Literary readers will enjoy the craftsmanship and emotional reach, and it's a natural choice for book clubs with lots to talk about. It's really terrific and deserves a broad audience. It's a beautiful work with more than a dash of heartbreak and hope.

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

REVIEW: Rock Your Ugly Christmas Sweater, by Anne Marie Blackman & Brian Clark Howard

Rock Your Ugly Christmas Sweater, by Anne Marie Blackman and Brian Clark Howard. Published 2012 by Running Press. Nonfiction. Christmas.

So here's something fun for your coffee table or stocking this holiday season.

Do you like wearing "ugly" Christmas sweaters? Well, here's your ultimate ugly-sweater-style-guide. Divided into helpful chapters like "Homemade Hits and Misses," "Pets Rocking Ugly Christmas Sweaters" and "Rock Christmas in July," this book displays a wide array of the crazy, the tacky and the just-plain-wonderful when it comes to Christmas sweaters.

There are sweaters with Santas; sweaters with trees; sweaters with crazy garland and sweaters on dogs and kitties. Truly, there is something for everyone, at least for everyone who likes Christmas sweaters.

I love Christmas sweaters. I wear them without irony and with a smile on my face. I love the different reactions they bring out, as long as it's a good reaction. One of my favorite stores, The Garment District, recently had a sale of so-called ugly sweaters and I found some real treasures. (They're also having an ugly sweater contest!) Then I found this book, and realized that I actually own the red cat vest the guy on the cover is wearing. I feel so proud!

You should get this book for yourself or a friend this season, just for a laugh. Or, if you're like me, as a style guide and a way to validate your silly penchant for all things glittery.

And yes, I will post a photo of my entry into the contest!

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive this book for review.

REVIEW: The Yellow Birds, by Kevin Powers

The Yellow Birds, by Kevin Powers. Published 2012 by Little, Brown.

First of all I have to apologize for the absurdly long time it's taken me to write this review. I thought I had reviewed it already but turns out no.

A war novel set in Iraq and elsewhere, The Yellow Birds is a haunting, poetic and elegiac prose poem about the unknowabilities of war, life and death. John Bartle tells the story of his friendship with Daniel Murphy, a fellow private stationed at Al Tafar, Iraq. Chapters move around in time, from the war to their training in New Jersey, a stint in Germany and Bartle's life after discharge in the Blue Ridge Mountains with his mother, where his disaffectedness and alienation will remind some readers of the furloughed servicemen of Ben Fountain's brilliant Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk. But mostly, this book won't remind you of any other book you've ever read.

I think what stands out for me most is Powers' direct tone. He's chosen every word with care, every nuance of phrase with intention. You can open it up to any page and find quiet, simple sentences that get under your skin with their fluid movement, an almost liquid quality to his writing. I don't even know what paragraph to pick out to show you the best, since just about the entire book has this suppleness to it. I feel like Powers worked this material over for a long time, with a poet's eye for detail.

And the story itself is of course profound and profoundly sad, disturbing and real. The difficulty of the material combined with the silkiness of the writing produce a dissonance, maybe like the mental disconnect felt by Bartle as he tries to come to terms with all that's happened, and with the future, too. It's a relatively short book that still takes a long time to read, because of this detail and the slow pace at which Powers rolls out the story of Bartle and Murphy and whatever became of the promise he made to Murphy's mother to bring back her son. Once you pick it up, you'll want to stay to find out, and when you do, you'll be changed in some way too.

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I received this book for review from the publisher.

REVIEW: The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, by Rachel Joyce

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, by Rachel Joyce. Published 2012 by Random House.

So, after a spate of dark and heavy books, I was asking around on Twitter one night for some what-to-read-next suggestions. One of my Twitter friends mentioned a book she loved, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, by Rachel Joyce, which had been longlisted for this year's Booker Prize and a galley of which happened to be nestled in my piles of books somewhere. I'd dipped into it earlier in the year and was interested enough to keep it around, but this recommendation was enough to get it out of the pile and into my hands.

I really loved it.

One day Harold Fry gets a letter in the mail from a nurse caring for his old friend Queenie Hennessey. Queenie and Harold had worked together at a brewery; Harold was an introverted salesman, a loner in a jocular, hyper masculine culture, and Queenie the lone woman. They share a secret, a secret of Harold's; a long time ago, she did him an unfathomable favor, and now, as she lay dying from cancer, Harold feels a need to see her, to thank her, to make sure she's okay, so, without really meaning to, he starts walking the many miles from his home to her bedside.

As Harold's walk progresses, Joyce tells the story of Harold and his wife Maureen, a late-middle-aged couple whose marriage has basically disintegrated. Harold is a good man but emotionally stunted by abuse and abandonment by his own parents; Maureen had expectations for her life that were different from the way things turned out. Their relationship with their son David is at the heart of their troubles as a couple, and their story is explored gradually and quietly as Harold embarks on his pilgrimage.

Joyce alternates her narrative between Harold's walk and Maureen's own, private journey at home, as she reevaluates herself, her marriage, her husband and her son. The past and the present intermingle as Harold and Maureen make their way through terrain interior and exterior. Maureen starts off in denial of what's going on; she tells her neighbor that Harold is inside. Harold likewise has no idea what he's gotten himself into and finds himself beset by injury, hunger, loneliness and cold. He tells people what he's doing as he goes and soon finds himself to be a kind of celebrity, while Maureen actually starts to miss her husband and rethink their relationship.

I found the story, which is actually quite dark, to be moving but what I really admire about the book is how tightly it's structured. Everything is a metaphor for everything else; Harold's physical journey mirrors his psychic journey, his physical injuries and lack of preparation mirror his development from childhood to adulthood. The lack of affection and direction from his parents left him unprepared for adult relationships, for parenthood, for success at work. Now that part of his life is over and he has to figure out how to face his remaining years, what remains of his marriage and his understanding of his only child. And he's hanging it all on the success or failure of the visit with Queenie.

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry has the potential to be a big success with lots of different kinds of readers. It's a natural fit for people who liked Major Pettigrew's Last Stand by Helen Simonson, or Natasha Solomon's Mr. Rosenblum Dreams in English but it's a good deal more melancholy than those books. A meditation on grief, on what it means to succeed or fail, and on what it means to grow up and love other people, it's a wonderful and wonderfully engrossing story of an all-too-human man and his struggle to accept himself and what life has dealt him.

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I received a review copy from the publisher.