TBR Challenge: Fantasies of a Bollywood Love Thief, by Stephen Alter

Fantasies of a Bollywood Love Thief, by Stephen Alter. Click on
the cover to buy from your local Book Sense-affiliated independent bookseller.

I got Fantasies of a Bollywood Love Thief as a gift, and having only seen two Bollywood films I'm definitely a newcomer to those phenomenally successful and popular movie musicals from India. The book is about the making of the film "Omkara," a remake of Shakespeare's Othello; author Stephen Alter, a writer and former MIT writing professor who lives and works in India, is probably as good a guide as any to this colorful world.

But sometimes, through no fault of its own, a book just doesn't work out.

I read this book for the TBR Challenge, but I was unable to finish it, at least for now. I got about halfway through it when I just had to admit that I have more compelling reading to do at the moment and for the foreseeable future. I'd like to see the movie, and perhaps then I'll come back to the book but for now I have to call it quits and move on.

There's nothing really wrong with the book, and it's gotten good reviews elsewhere. Personally I just found it busy and a little hard to follow, but I think my reaction is due to my overall lack of familiarity with Bollywood in general and the film in question in particular. Fans of the book seem to be fans of the movie as well. I enjoyed references to the few Bollywood films I do know, but I think I just don't know enough. I've heard other people say it's too light for real Bollywood aficionados, but it struck me as a touch confusing for newbies as well. The writing is pretty solid and I'm sure its good reviews are merited.

I have a lot on my plate right now but I'll hang on to the book for now and who knows, maybe over the summer I'll get back to it.

REVIEW: Jackie Ormes: The First African American Woman Cartoonist, by Nancy Goldstein.

Jackie Ormes: The First African American Woman Cartoonist, by Nancy Goldstein. Published: 2008 by the University of Michigan Press. Nonfiction.

I read this book as part of LibraryThing.com's "Early Reviewer" program.

As the title might suggest, this book is a biography about Zelda Jackson "Jackie" Ormes, the first African American woman to be a professional newspaper cartoonist. She drew four strips, Torchy Brown in "Dixie to Harlem", Candy, Patty-Jo 'n' Ginger, and Torchy in "Heartbeats" from the late 1930s through the late 1950s, at a time when there were few women in newspaper work at all, much less working as cartoonists. Her work appeared in newspapers aimed at the African-American community of that era, such as the Pittsburgh Courier and Chicago Defender and her work is known for its timeliness, humor and broad appeal. The Patty-Jo character was even made into a successful upscale child's doll for a number of years, and is now a sought-after collectible.

It's the Patty-Jo doll that got author and collector Nancy Goldstein interested in Jackie Ormes. For someone who is not primarily a scholar, Goldstein does a pretty good job of researching and telling the life story of this interesting, multifaceted woman. Jackie Ormes was an artist, fashionista, activist and social butterfly, mixing with the likes of Lena Horne and Eartha Kitt through the hotel managed by her husband Earl, and her comics ranged from cute gags about clothes or kids to romance to biting social commentary. She was also investigated by the FBI for possible Communist sympathies, one aspect of her story I found fascinating. Goldstein acknowledges the gaps in the available material about Ormes- there are, for example, no personal letters and little original art extant to help round her story out, and Goldstein's purpose in writing the book is in part to call out for anyone owning such material to donate to specific archival institutions, to enable further study. As such, the story sometimes feels like little more than a bare outline of dates and places, with little of Ormes's personality coming through. Goldstein also has a tendency to speculate openly when she doesn't have all the facts, which I found a little annoying.

Even with these gaps, Goldstein has done a decent job bringing together the material which is available. Unfortunately, her research is undercut by her writing and presentation, both a little bland. Even the chapter on the Patty-Jo doll, for which I had high hopes considering Goldstein's background as a collector, is a little dry. It took me a little longer than I hoped to get through the book, in particular the sections devoted to the comics, which seem dated. Goldstein's analysis is sometimes helpful in providing historical context but I think much of the true flavor of the comics has probably been lost with the passage of time. Torchy in "Heartbeats" series has aged the best of the bunch- its themes of pulp romance and environmental activism aren't as dependent on the day's headlines as the smart one-liners in Patty-Jo 'n' Ginger, for example. People who read these comics when they were published might enjoy the trip down memory lane, though, and doll enthusiasts will enjoy the helpful tips for identifying genuine Patty-Jo dolls in the chapter devoted to her, as well as some interesting information on the history of African-American dolls in general.

For the casual reader, though, the book is probably a pass. It's not bad, but I think Jackie Ormes: The First African American Woman Cartoonist is best suited for either dedicated fans of the Patty-Jo doll or those with a serious, academic interest in cartoon- or African-American history. Jackie Ormes seems like an important figure, and I think Goldstein has done her a service by calling attention to her work- and preserving a taste of it- in this volume. More personal material is needed, though, to really make Ormes come alive in print. Hopefully those with information to share will come forward and allow a more detailed biography to be written in the future.

Rating: BORROW

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

REVIEW: People of the Book, by Geraldine Brooks

People of the Book, by Geraldine Brooks. Published 2007 by Viking. Literary Fiction.

People of the Book is the latest novel from Pulitzer-Prize winning author Geraldine Brooks, author of March and other acclaimed novels. I enjoyed it a lot.

The term "people of the book" usually refers to the Jewish people, and the book is usually the Hebrew Bible. Here, though, the book is the haggadah, the ceremonial text used during Passover celebrations, and the people are everyone from an African artist to a German art historian to a Muslim librarian and a Jewish diplomat- and more. The plot centers on the Sarajevo Haggadah, an old, gorgeously illuminated version of the Passover story whose origins are murky and whose survival has been tenuous and chancy over the years. The book is real, and some of the events in the book are real, but for the most part the story is fiction. The haggadah was saved twice in the last century, both times by Muslim librarians- during World War II, a Muslim librarian in the Sarajevo National Library hid the book in an Islamic library, and later, during the Bosnian War, another Muslim librarian risked his life to save it again.

The story opens in the spring of 1996, shortly after the end of the Bosnian war, when fictional conservation expert Hanna Heath arrives in Sarajevo to restore the book before it is put back on display. From here, the narrative alternates between Hanna's forward-moving adventures and the backward-moving story of the book's creation and lifespan, from its rescue during World War II back to its origins in pre-Medieval Spain.

Brooks uses the little physical clues that Hanna finds in the book itself as the basis for each of the short stories comprising the book's back story- a butterfly wing, a white hair, a blood stain. Each object leads to an element of the book's history, as well as the stories of the people connected to the book- the "people of the book" to whom the title refers. Each of these stories is an individual marvel of short fiction- Brooks paints whole worlds in vivid miniature, with intriguing characters and detailed settings. The best of these stories is the last, "The White Hair," a gorgeous mini-novella in which we learn the book's earliest origins and meet a fascinating, wonderful character in the narrator whose now-quiet life is the result of a tumult of drama and intrigue. In all of the stories, the characters are complex and full, and just about everyone has a secret- important secrets that impact the book directly. But the narrator of the final story has the best secrets of all.

Everyone has a secret, that is, except our Hanna, an open book so to speak. I enjoyed Hanna the most when Brooks had her playing the intrepid investigator and dedicated professional- off duty, Hanna struck me as whiny and unappealing; Brooks gives her dysfunctions in place of a personality. The action of the book- tracking down clues and rescuing the book once again- is well-paced and engrossing, and much more interesting than listening to her complain about her mother. The family drama adds little to the story, and had there been nothing at all about her family the book would have been fine, perhaps better. The love story felt a little forced as well, like something that Brooks perhaps wanted to include but did not spend a great deal of time perfecting. The supporting characters in Hanna's time line are mostly appealing and add enough to the plot to keep it going. Towards the end, the past and present come together, hinting at discoveries to come.

Overall I found the book to be compelling, addictive reading. I read it from cover to cover in about three days and could barely put it down. The writing is solid and polished; it's not a literary masterpiece but it's not light reading, either. The themes, about the traces that history leaves behind and the secrets you can never know, are illuminated beautifully. It is a terrific book for anyone looking for a good meaty read mixing action, intellectualism and history.

Rating: BUY

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

REVIEW: Megillat Esther, by J.T. Waldman. Jewish Literature Challenge, 5 of 5

Megillat Esther, by J.T. Waldman. Published 2005 by the Jewish Publication Society.

Click on the cover to buy via IndieBound.org. I'm an IndieBound affiliate and receive a small commission on sales.

I'm still here. It's been a busy week but I should have some new reviews soon.

For my last entry in the Jewish Literature Challenge series, I chose a graphic novel-style interpretation of the Megilla, the story of how Queen Esther saved the Jews from slaughter by King Achashverosh and his advisor, Haman, in ancient Persia. This story forms the basis for the Jewish holiday Purim, which begins tomorrow. Not your standard children's-book interpretation, this version of Esther's story is full of intrigue, conspiracies and reversals, not the least of which is the physical reversal of the text which occurs halfway through. At this point, the reader needs to flip the book over and read it right to left, all the better for the Hebrew but possibly jarring for readers unfamiliar with reading Hebrew or (in my case) Japanese manga. But I digress.

This Megillat Esther is a treasure- a beautiful and thoughtful retelling of the Book of Esther. The story is told in English and beautifully-lettered Hebrew, and includes rabbinic footnotes and a bibliography, as well as a section explaining the importance of citations and explaining the term midrash, the orally-told stories that expand on the Hebrew Bible. This section seems aimed at children, but this is no children's book. Waldman's rich, detailed black and white illustrations reward careful attention and a slow, deliberate pace, and there is some racy sexual content and innuendo which would make the book much more suitable for older teens and adults interested in Judaism and/or graphic novels.

Waldman's Megillat Esther is a real treat. I had a hard time tracking down a copy through my local public library system, but it's worth a read, at Purim time or anytime.

Rating: BUY

FTC Disclosure: I did not receive a copy of this book for review from the publisher.

REVIEW: Dreamers of the Day, by Mary Doria Russell

Dreamers of the Day, by Mary Doria Russell. Published 2008 by Random House. Literary Fiction.


I first heard of Mary Doria Russell as a fantasy writer- my husband, a serious science fiction/fantasy buff, has several of her books in his to-be-read pile- so I wasn't sure what to expect when I picked up Dreamers of the Day. The book is a fictionalized account of the 1919 Cairo Conference, where Lawrence of Arabia and Winston Churchill joined with other Western leaders to divvy up the Middle East, told from the point of view of a fictional onlooker, a middle-aged woman on the trip of a lifetime.

The title refers to those influential personages who have the dreams that change the world, and it's not exactly a compliment. Russell's point about the Cairo Conference is that major, history-altering decisions were made for millions of people by outsiders who didn't really have to deal with the consequences, and that the problems we face today are the misbegotten children of those decisions. Meddling in history, it seems, is a dangerous business indeed.

The narrator, Agnes Shanklin, a maiden Ohio schoolteacher, has lived her life serving others, especially her angry mother. She has never married, and only fell in love once, to a man who dropped her for her beautiful, gifted sister Lillian. Following the influenza epidemic of the early 20th century, Agnes is left alone but wealthy, and decides to take a trip to Egypt and the Middle East, in part to see where her sister lived as a missionary. Luckily for Agnes, her sister was close to T.E. Lawrence, and Agnes is welcomed into his circle and given ringside seats for some of the most exciting political negotiations of her time. She also attracts the attention of a charming, accommodating spy named Karl. In the Middle East, Agnes experiences independence and a sense of importance for the first time, and it changes her life.

I enjoyed the book quite a bit. Russell's writing is engaging and well-paced, and Agnes was an appealing, likable character despite being a little bit of a doormat when it came to her family. I think this tendency of hers is forgivable and understandable given the time and place she lived and the limited opportunities available to women. Once she has the means she relishes her independence and the large section of the book devoted to her time in the Middle East is fun, lively reading. Russell rushes through the rest of Agnes's life but it's interesting to watch her fortunes rise and fall with the waves of American history. The preaching Agnes does at the end dragged it down a little for me, but overall I thought Dreamers of Day was a lively read that would appeal to people who enjoy historical fiction with a dash of romance and a mid-life coming of age. And I might just take a second look at those other books of Russell's that my husband has been hoarding.

Rating: BACKLIST

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

TBR Challenge: Death in the Truffle Wood, by Pierre Magnan

Death in the Truffle Wood, by Pierre Magnan. Published in 2007 by St. Martin's. Fiction. Crime Fiction. Translated from the French.

I got a galley of Death in the Truffle Wood at the 2007 annual conference of the American Library Association; it was one of several advance-reader copies I picked up on the exhibit hall floor and then left in a pile. Trouble is, I don't really read mysteries, but I couldn't resist the premise- black humor in Provence, peppered with truffles, scandal, and murder.

Starring Magnan regular Commissaire Laviolette, it's a fun book. Laviolette is a (typically?) dry investigator; he arrives in the small village of Banon to investigate a series of unusual disappearances which are quickly revealed to be a series of unusual murders. Actually there are two sets of murders, and two murderers, but one of the murderers is known and the suspense lies in whether this individual will get caught. Banon seemed like a pretty typical French country town- a little isolated, a little inbred, and very, very old. The characters are divided between indistinguishable townies and a few principals who dominate the action- Laviolette (of course), truffle farmer Alyre Morelon, his unfaithful, jewelry-loving wife Francine and his treasured truffle-sniffing sow Roseline, buxom innkeeper Rosemonde and Lavoisette's friend Bredes. Clues are scattered throughout like the truffles in Alyre's woods, and you don't need to be Roseline to sniff them out.

The tone of the book is dominated by a kind of blasé black humor. Roseline's travails are an important part of the plot and the murders, while somewhat gruesome, have a comic aspect as well, especially the where-and-when of the discovery of the first body. There is some real suspense as the net closes around the killers although the action lagged now and then. Magnan includes a lot of great descriptions of the local color- the food, customs and geography of Banon are described with affection and attention to detail. Overall it's a fun, entertaining light read. If I ever have time I'd love to read more of Commissaire Laviolette's adventures outside the Truffle Wood too.

Rating: BEACH

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

REVIEW: The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak

The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak. Published: 2005 by Random House. Literary Fiction. Young Adult.

The Book Thief, by Australian writer Markus Zusak, is going to be a tricky book for me to review because I'm not sure what I can say that hasn't already been said. On the back cover it appears that the list of awards it's won is almost longer than the plot summary- The Book Thief has been lauded by everyone from the American Library Association to Publisher's Weekly to Book Sense, and that list doesn't include everything. The Book Thief also won a Sydney Taylor Book Award from the Association of Jewish Libraries and has been used in at least a few One Book programs across the country and it seems to me that I can't open a library journal without seeing that Zusak is somewhere accepting laurels.

I was also a little nervous about reading The Book Thief, since I tend to be a little on the contrarian side. If everyone else liked it, there would be a pretty good chance I wouldn't. Not this time, though. I loved it. Let me repeat: I loved it. It's a beautiful, compelling novel about the power of love (and reading) to help and heal.

Narrated by the figure of Death, The Book Thief is the story of little Liesel Meminger, a young girl orphaned in Germany during World War II, who goes to a Munich suburb to live with a couple named Rosa and Hans Hubermann, whose own children are grown. Rosa, a professional laundress, is frosty and difficult on the surface, but Hans shows himself to be a warm father to the scared little girl and she begins to blossom under his care, as, among other things, he teaches her to read. The story mixes a coming-of-age plot focused on Liesel and her best friend, Rudy Steiner, with the ever-present and ever-growing hostile atmosphere of Nazi Germany. Liesel also develops a crucial relationship with one of Rosa's customers, who helps nurture Liesel's passion for books. There are twists and turns right up to the end as Hitler's grip tightens on Germany and the family and though some twists are given away by the grim narrator, there are plenty of bittersweet surprises all the way through.

The book starts off a little slow but picks up steam rapidly; once it gets going, it's absolutely un-put-down-able. Liesel and all the characters are beautifully drawn with believable dialogue and tender, human relationships. Zusak displays remarkable control throughout- during some of the really grim and heart-rending passages, such as when groups of Jewish concentration camp prisoners are paraded through town, he uses a firm, deft hand to convey the characters' feelings without going over the top or being melodramatic. When the story takes a couple of surprising turns, they feel real and justified by the characters' personalities. Justice, such as it is, is meted out with the haphazard randomness of real life- nobody escapes unscathed, in body or in mind, and you can't take anything for granted. It's a very, very good read.

The Book Thief is an interesting example of how marketing can impact a book's audience. In Australia Markus Zusak is generally considered an author of books for adults and The Book Thief was marketed to adults there, and the heavy subject matter of Nazi Germany and Holocaust warrants that classification. In the United States, I understand that Zusak has a solid reputation as a writer for teenagers, and it was in the young-adult section of my local bookstore where I found the book. That classification is also justified because the writing, while well-done, is not done at a high degree of difficulty, the story centers on a pre-teen girl, most of the violence takes place off-stage and death is presented as inevitable but gentle. In a way it's too bad that it hasn't been marketed more to adults in the U.S. because I think a lot of people may miss out on a great read because they think it's a kid's book. On the other hand, it also has a great deal of potential for a teenage audience. So what to do? Zusak said once in an interview (and I paraphrase) that when he sits down to write, his goal is not to write an adult book or a young adult book, but to write someone's favorite book. I think for a lot of readers he has (and will have) succeeded admirably with The Book Thief.

Rating: BUY

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

Jewish Literature Challenge, 4 of 5

Such a Prince, by Dan Bar-el with illustrations by John Manders. Published in 2007. Click on the cover to buy from your local Booksense-affiliated independent bookseller.

Such a Prince, a new picture book for elementary-school children by Dan Bar-el, is a lively retelling of the "three peaches" folktale about a sick princess who needs three perfect peaches to get well. In return for providing the peaches, her father, the king, promises the girl's hand in marriage. This version is narrated by Libby Gaborchik, a fuss-budget little fairy who takes a liking to a skinny, feckless young man named Marvin and helps him win the princess.

The book is a joy from start to finish. The story is funny, the characters are recognizable fairy-tale types used perfectly. My favorite character is the unabashedly loud-mouthed, assertive Princess Vera, who even from her sickbed will express herself in quite the forthright manner. And the pictures! The guache and colored-pencil pictures are appealing, colorful and complement the fast-paced, rolly-polly story. Even the endpapers, depicting bunnies bouncing here and there, contribute to the overall atmosphere of hyperkinetic action.

When I first read the book silently, I enjoyed the humor and the beautiful, vibrant illustrations. But it really came to life when I read it out loud- Libby's playful, irreverent tone, only a little sarcastic at times, is a great match to the bouncy, bright pictures, and sounds great when spoken. The lively Yiddish-inspired syntax is to blame. Even without using a single Yiddish word Bar-el does a great job of capturing the uniquely expressive sound of Yiddish-inflected English and it's this trait that lends the book so beautifully to being read aloud. So read it, enjoy it, have fun with it, and read it out loud- though you might have to ham it up a little to really do it justice!

TBR Challenge: The Strange Life of Ivan Osokin, by P.D. Ouspensky

The Strange Life of Ivan Osokin, by P.D. Ouspensky. Originally published: 1915. Published 1988 by Penguin.


The Strange Life of Ivan Osokin by P.D. Ouspensky is a thin little novel I picked up in a used bookstore a long time ago, because I like Russian literature and it just looked interesting to me. I'd never heard of the author- no surprise, since The Strange Life was his only novel- but it looked intriguing, so I took it home.

And then it sat on my bookshelf for a long time. Since it is so small I always figured if I wanted to, I could read it quickly. And indeed it turned out to be a quick, satisfying and fascinating little book.

Ivan Osokin's life is made up of a series of disappointments- mostly of a man disappointed with himself as he manages to throw his opportunities away one by one. He comes to a crossroads after losing his lover and asks a magician to send him back in time so he can live his life again and correct all the mistakes he made that lead up to this final, colossal mistake, letting the woman he loves leave him and marry someone else. But will it make any difference? Will he change? Does he have the will to avoid the pitfalls he knows are coming? Or will he do everything the same way?

Overall the novel is characterized by a sense of despair and inevitability; Ivan is a sweet but feckless man who tries to get out of his own way and just can't seem to do it. In that way he's a lot like many people. He means well, and he tries hard, and sometimes that's enough, but most of the time it's not and he's always stuck with himself at the end of the day. I felt Ivan's frustration and his ennui and thought that Ouspensky did a good job of creating a likable character with whom it's easy to identify. Ouspensky was a philosopher and I think he wrote the book intending to espouse a particular theory about human behavior but the book never felt heavy or weighed down by an agenda. It's a bittersweet story that would appeal to Russian literature buffs or anyone who might like a book that is both brief and challenging.

Rating: BACKLIST

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

Short Story Challenge

Originally published: 2003. Click on the cover to buy from your local Booksense-affiliated independent bookseller.

Irish Girls About Town is an anthology of short stories by Irish women writers like Marian Keyes, Cathy Kelly and Catherine Dunne, and by and large it's very good. My favorite story is "Your Place or Mine?", a sort of chilling story about an Irish family who buys a vacation home in France and learns that what's theirs is sort of everyone's.

The other stories vary in quality but are entertaining enough. I loved the first story, Marian Keyes' "Soulmates," about a married couple that gets a long a too well for their friends. There's a lot of chick-lit type stories- breakup fantasies and such- but it's good fun and there are some real gems.

A New Challenge- The TBR Challenge

The goal of the TBR Challenge is to dig into that pile of books I've been piling up and actually read some of them. It's hard, between what I read for work, for review and for fun, to balance it all out, and it's not like I ever stop buying books. So here is my list:

The Strange Life of Ivan Osokin, by P.D. Ouspensky (done)

Fantasies of a Bollywood Love Thief: Inside the World of Indian Moviemaking, by Stephen Alter

Scarlet and Black, by Stendahl

Death in the Truffle Wood, by Pierre Magnan (done 3/5)

A Little Love Story, by Roland Merullo

We, by Yevgeny Zamyatin

Fatelessness, by Imre Kertesz

Klezmer, by Joann Sfar

The Electric Michelangelo, by Sarah Hall

The Known World, by Edward P. Jones

The Fairy Gunmother, by Daniel Pennac

Shosha, by Isaac Bashevis Singer

I think there is a good variety here- long books, short books, classics, new books, a graphic novel, some nonfiction too. I'll keep the pile near where I read, and little by little go through them. Should be a fun year!

Jewish Literature Challenge, 3 of 5

Bagels from Benny, by Aubrey Davis and illustrated by Dusan Petricic. First published: 2003. Click on the cover to buy from your local Booksense-affiliated independent bookseller.

Bagels from Benny won a Sydney Taylor Book Award and is suitable for elementary-school-aged children.

Bagels from Benny is a very sweet picture book that tells the story of Benny, a little boy who loves to help out at his grandfather's bakery and wants to find a way to thank God for his grandfather's wonderful bagels. He hits upon the idea of leaving a bag of bagels in his synagogue's ark- where the Torah is kept- because it just seems sensible to leave a gift for God in with His book. A poor man who comes to pray finds the bagels- and believes they are from God. When Benny's grandfather finds out what Benny has been doing with his bagels, grandfather and grandson share an important lesson about the transformational power of kindness and generosity. It's a really lovely story with an important lesson, based on an ancient Jewish legend from Spain. Petricic's illustrations in watercolor and pencil are by turns funny and beautiful and echo the emotional tones well. I love Bagels from Benny!

REVIEW: The Moon in the Mango Tree by Pamela Binnings Ewen

The Moon in the Mango Tree, by Pamela Binnings Ewen. Published 2008 by B&H Books. Advance Reader Copy read as part of LibraryThing's Early Reviewer program. Fiction.

The Moon in the Mango Tree is based on the story of the author's grandmother, who married a doctor and lived for many years in Thailand (here called Siam) and Europe, and based in part on her letters and journals. I really wanted to like what I hoped would be a colorful story of travel, adventure and a woman's search for meaning, but what I found was a very dull novel about some very dull people.

Set in the Roaring Twenties, Barbara Perkins lives a privileged life and is happy to marry herself a handsome young doctor. She is a talented singer, and her teacher offers her the opportunity to go to Chicago to train to be a professional, but, as her upbringing has taught her, she abandons her ambitions to live at her husband's side as he works as a missionary doctor in rural Thailand. A former suffragette, Barbara (or "Babs," her husband Harvey's annoying nickname for her), doesn't fit in the with the uptight missionaries and misses her music and her family. They return to America briefly, then return to Thailand where Harvey works in a large Bangkok hospital and ministers to the king. City life is more to her liking but eventually Barbara needs more, and decides to go to Europe. Her choices are fairly predictable from here and the ending is neat and tidy.

What stands out the most about the book is Ewen's vivid descriptions of place. The Moon in the Mango Tree would be a great book for the armchair traveler, or the reader who loves books with specific and beautifully-rendered settings. Nan, the rural Thai village in which they first live, Bangkok, Paris and Rome are intricately and vividly described- they are almost characters in and of themselves. Ewen manages to capture the spirit of the places, as well as their distinctive physical features. I felt like I was meandering streets of Rome along with her, or rushing through a Paris rainstorm, or negotiating all those jungle trails on horseback, and these rich passages make pretty good reading.

Unfortunately Ewen's characters lack the depth and richness of her settings. Barbara is an empty shell. I know a lot about what she does, but little about how she feels, apart from her constant self-pity. And she doesn't do much. She's not much of a partner in missionary work- while in Nan, she does little besides decorate her home and feel sorry for herself. She's not much of a mother- she leaves her daughters to babysitters and boarding schools while she parties, flirts and takes her singing lessons. And she's not much of a wife- not that Harvey is much of a husband.

Their relationship reminds me of the way Prince Charles once described his love for his first wife, Princess Diana- yes, he said, he was in love with her, "whatever that means." Harvey and Barbara's marriage struck me as cool and distant. They claim to love each other but they do not treat or talk to each other with respect or compassion, each apparently too enmeshed in his or her own needs to notice that the other person just might have thoughts and feelings of his or her own. He doesn't listen to her, shows little interest in her concerns and trivializes her feelings. She complains of his indifference but relies on him to bankroll her "independence". She blames him bitterly for abandoning her during a monsoon, then almost doesn't want to hear the very good explanation. Where Harvey is equal parts saint, doormat and cipher, most of the other characters, apart from the cartoonishly evil Mr. Breeden and his equally cartoonish, frigid wife, are indistinguishable and unremarkable.

This book also represents my first real foray into the genre of "Christian fiction," although I'm not exactly sure what to make of that distinction. Certainly The Moon in the Mango Tree is a clean-as-a-whistle marital love story, whose protagonist only experiments with stepping outside the lines (and is ultimately guided back by a Catholic priest) but I think my main gripe with the book is Barbara's limited grasp of the possibilities of life. It's all or nothing- either she can study music or she can be a dutiful wife. There's no middle ground. Ewen sets up Barbara's choices so starkly that there's no real choice at all, and I was continually frustrated with her lack of imagination. Why not make it possible for Barbara to find a satisfying compromise? And don't tell me, because Ewen's grandmother didn't. Ewen chose to write fiction, not a biography, and could have given her heroine any number of outcomes. As it is, Barbara's conclusions left me disappointed and wondering why she goes to all that trouble in the first place. Overlong, overdone and ultimately a let-down, The Moon in the Mango Tree simply wasn't for me.

Rating: BORROW

FTC Disclosure: I received this book for review from LibraryThing.com.

Jewish Literature Challenge, Part 2 of 5

The next book I read for the Jewish Literature Challenge is All-of-A-Kind Family, by Sydney Taylor. Originally published in the 1950s, Sydney Taylor's classic book for middle readers is set in the Lower East Side of New York City and depicts the life of a traditional Jewish family in the early 20th century. All-of-A-Kind Family is the first in a series of novels about the lively group and is a sweet, charming read. The story takes the reader through most of year and involves not just the family but their friends and acquaintances, too. The book opens with a chapter about going to the library, and the children's librarian (or "library lady," as the girls like to call her) is a gentle, recurring presence. The children's adventures include a trip to the market, scarlet fever and an outing to Coney Island, where one of the girls gets temporarily, and happily, lost. Meanwhile the story meanders through a year of Jewish holidays and teaches the reader a little about each one. I particularly enjoyed the chapter on Shabbat and how Taylor contrasts the hubbub of shopping and preparations with the simple serenity of the day itself. The family relationships struck me as very true and believable- for example, Papa's ambivalence regarding the present the girls get for his birthday and his quick turnaround struck me as realistic and human. I can imagine any parent reacting the way he did initially and then rallying in the end. I appreciate Taylor's honesty about her characters throughout the book, too. So often childhood and parenthood are romanticized and sentimentalized and it's always refreshing when a writer resists that temptation. It's a great book for anyone and I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the series and sharing in the further adventures of this fun, busy family. And All-of-A-Kind Family Downtown, another in the series, is on its way to me soon!

Sydney Taylor, by the way, is quite an important woman in the world of Jewish books. Not only are her books justifiably considered beloved classics, but the Association of Jewish Libraries has named a series of book awards after her, to recognize the best in Jewish books for children. You can learn more about the award at the Sydney Taylor Book Award blog or at the AJL's website. Both are terrific resources for recommended titles in the world of Jewish kids' books.

A Bibliophile Birthday

Happy Birthday to me! Today is my birthday and this morning I got a great present for someone who loves to read- more books! My husband packaged a sweet mix of manga and graphic novels into a basket and here it is. Thanks so much, I can't wait to dig into these!

REVIEW: The Translator : A Tribesman's Memoir of Darfur, by Daoud Hari

The Translator : A Tribesman's Memoir of Darfur, by Daoud Hari. Published 2008 by Random House.

Advance Reader Copy obtained as part of LibraryThing's Early Reviewer program.

Click on the cover to buy via IndieBound.org. I'm an IndieBound affiliate and receive a small commission on sales.

The Translator : A Tribesman's Memoir of Darfur is a light, thin volume on a heavy subject- the ongoing genocide against non-Arabs in the Darfur region of Sudan. The narrator/author, Daoud Hari, worked as a translator for aid agencies, reporters and United Nations officials, after escaping attacks on his own village and fleeing to neighboring Chad. His story is amazing.

I didn't know much about the specifics of the origins of the war in Sudan when I opened the book but Hari offers a pencil-sketch history which was enough to get me started in an appendix. The book opens in the thick of the action with an anecdote showing Hari and a reporter being stopped by some troops and having to do some fast talking- just another day on the job. Then Hari backtracks, talks about his life and some adventures before the war, but before we know it the attacks have started, Hari must flee, and everything has changed. In the refugee camps and elsewhere he is witness to evidence and aftershocks of unbelievable brutality marking him and his companions indelibly. Throughout it all are vivid anecdotes and descriptions of a close, communal culture fractured by corrupt politicians, racism, trauma and greed. In the final chapters Hari details his harrowing capture, along with a reporter and their driver, by the Sudanese military and his eventual evacuation from Africa.

The writing style is all the more powerful for being so simple and direct. His friendly, light tone made me feel comfortable right away- the literary equivalent of the tradition of hospitality to which he refers again and again. It's like he's inviting us into his home, sharing customs and traditions with us over the page. He often breaks the fourth wall and addresses the reader directly- what would you do in this situation, how would you react if that happened, etc.- drawing the reader closer and creating empathy. His matter-of-fact style helped bring home the horrors and the absurdity of what he faced, as well as some very humorous and very human moments from time to time. Hari himself comes across as thoughtful and pragmatic, doing what he needs to in order to stay alive and always devoted to helping in any way that he can.

At this point, using his story to attract attention to his cause is the method he chooses. The book's uncomplicated style worked well in chapters where there is a lot of action and activity- after the first few chapters I couldn't put it down it kept me going so. The ending seemed a little rushed though and I wish he had written more about his companions' fate and about his life in America. An extra chapter would serve nicely and would not overwhelm this brief volume. The situation leading to his emigration lasted for several chapters and he lingered over it so that when the ending came, it felt abrupt, almost like something was left on the cutting room floor. That quibble aside, it's a good book and a solid, engaging read for anyone interested in Darfur, Africa or genocide. Hari articulately describes a society on the verge of collapse through a range of emotions, from frustration, anger and shock all the way to gratitude and hope. His hope is that people who read the book will act on behalf of the people still suffering in Darfur. My hope is that he's right.

Rating: BACKLIST

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

Book Challenge Curmudgeon

Okay, so I'm doing this Jewish Literature Challenge- five books by Passover. I work in a Hebrew school library and probably read 5-10 qualifying books every week, not to mention what I include in my personal reading, so it's going to be a pretty easy challenge to meet, which is probably why I'm participating. I've never been much for reading challenges, and I see them tossed around all the time on book blogs. It's just not "me". I'm not a joiner. I have enough to read without having to meet some arbitrary goal set by someone else. I don't read that many blogs so I don't get into the whole sharing/bonding aspect. I just like to do my own thing.

I see the advantages though. You always have something to read. You never have to decide what to read next- just pick up the next biography, or kids' book, or whatever. You learn about a specific genre or topic. And you can use that opportunity to either deepen your knowledge of something with which you're already familiar, or to branch out into something new. Participating in challenges might also help increase the visibility of my blog. The problem I had with my reading, before I became a librarian and had access to advance reader copies, was staleness. I liked what I liked, but I didn't always know how to find the next book or the next author. At that time, reading challenges would have been welcome, but ARCs fill that role now and I feel overwhelmed. Books to read for work, books to read for review, books to read for fun, books to read to keep up with what's new in books. Right now my active reading pile includes the following:

The Translator by Daoud Hari, to review, courtesy of LibraryThing,
Milkweed by Jerry Spinelli, for work,
All-of-a-Kind Family by Sydney Taylor, for work,
Fall in Love Like a Comic v. 2 by Chitose Yagami, for fun, and
The Demon of Dakar by Kjell Eriksson, for fun,

not to mention Dreamers of the Day by Mary Doria Russell and The Moon in the Mango Tree by Pamela Ewan (also from LibraryThing), both for review. Dreamers of the Day isn't a top priority and The Moon in the Mango Tree hasn't arrived yet, but they're out there. Waiting.

And then there are all those things I want to read, that are either sitting on my shelf or I haven't bought yet.

No wonder I don't have time for War and Peace. Or challenges that mean adding more books to my list!

A Book Challenge!

So for the first time, I'm going to participate in a reading challenge.

I'm a little late to the dance, but the idea is to read at least five books on Judaism or Jewish subjects between Hannukah and the end of Passover 5768, or December 4, 2007 to April 26, 2008. I read five Jewish books yesterday, so I think I'm good.

The hardest part is deciding where to start, so I'll start with the most recent.

Hana's Suitcase, by Karen Levine, published in 2007, is the true story of a young Czech girl named Hana Brady, who was taken away by the Nazis along with her older brother George, and that of her suitcase, which through a chain of events ended up in Japan. It is also the story of a Japanese woman's efforts to find out about Hana- who she was and what happened to her. The book is incredibly moving. Illustrated with photographs of Hana and her family as well as the Holocaust center in Japan where her suitcase is found, Levine tells Hana's story in parallel with the story of the efforts to learn about her. This structure sets up two crushing waves of emotion that left me in tears by the end. It's bittersweet tragedy, told with beauty and sensitivity.

Click on the picture to buy from your local Booksense-affiliated bookseller. I'd highly recommend it.

You can learn more about the Jewish Literature Challenge here.

REVIEW: A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian, by Marina Lewycka

A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian, by Marina Lewycka. Published 2005 by Penguin.

Click on the cover to buy via IndieBound.org. I'm an IndieBound affiliate and receive a small commission on sales.

If all you ever do is read the blurb on the front cover of A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian, you will never really know what the book is about: "Two years after my mother died, my father fell in love with a glamorous blond Ukrainian divorcee. He was eighty-four and she was thirty-six. She exploded into our lives like a fluffy pink grenade..."

I really question the wisdom of including these, the book's opening lines, on the cover because they are so misleading. Yes, the subject of the book is the doomed relationship between the aforementioned octogenarian and his younger lady. But the metaphor- the "fluffy pink grenade"- makes the story sound like something sweet and adorable that might have Hello Kitty on it. And it really is anything but.

The narrator of the story is Nadezhda, the man's daughter, and she tells the story of her father Nikolai and ladyfriend Valentina; all are immigrants from Ukraine to England, but Nadezhda, her sister Vera and her parents came years ago, and Valentina is fresh off the boat so to speak, an escapee of the post-Soviet Union where she and her husband were comfortable Communists unable to adapt to the capitalist anarchy that ensued after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Leaving her husband behind, Valentina emigrates with her adolescent son in search of a better life, which she expects will be provided to her by a new, wealthy husband, which she expects to find in the frail widower Nikolai. To say she is disappointed is an understatement, and Nadezhda and her sister quickly see through her father's flimsy relations with Valentina and undertake to rid her from the family as little by little Valentina fritters away both Nikolai's money and his sanity.

Coupled with Valentina's and Nikolai's story is that of the family and of their life in Europe and their traumas and secrets, buried for years. Nadezhda, born in Britain, never knew first-hand of her parents' and sister's struggles except through scattershot stories, and learning more becomes critical to repairing her relationship with Vera, fraught for years with envy and resentment which came to a head with their mother's death two years before the story opens. Since that time, the two women have barely spoken and never met, but they find themselves allied over Valentina and slowly rebuilding their bond.

I liked this book a lot. It was very well-written, flowed well and kept me going- it's a short book, around 300 pages, and I picked it to read next because I hoped it would be a quicker, lighter read than Victor Serge's opus on Stalinist Russia, and because I hoped it would be good, since it was nominated for the Man Booker Prize. The tone of the book was on the light side but the themes, including family dysfunction, elder abuse, exploitation, the traumas of the Soviet Union, desperation and loneliness, make it pretty grim going at times. It was short, so it didn't last long, but it got to be pretty dark and uncomfortable now and then. Nothing fluffy here except for Valentina's slippers.

In the end though it was a very satisfying read. Nadezhda, Vera and Nikolai were all believable, likable characters and their relationships felt very real- the sibling rivalry played out into adulthood, the way parents sometimes play siblings off against each other, and the way they came together in the end, in a way that was real and not syrupy or contrived. Lewycka also manages to make Valentina more than a fat, pathetic, ill-dressed monster, though maybe not much more. I think I would have liked to see a little more insight into her personality; Nadezhda does admit near the end of the story that while Valentina was certainly "greedy" she was not inhuman, but I have to admit that Lewycka could have provided the reader with a little more evidence. Her character would make a great basis for a book club discussion when taken in with her historical and cultural circumstances. Who knows what anyone would do in her place?

All in all I'd definitely recommend A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian to anyone looking for a solid, literary page-turner about families or about the former Soviet Union. I might even put it alongside books like Monumental Propaganda and Sergei Lukyanenko's vampire trilogy (Night Watch, Day Watch, and Twilight Watch) for those interested in literary reactions to the fall of the Soviet Union. As soon as I have time I'm going to read another book in this vein, Ekaterina Sedia's The Secret History of Moscow; I'll let you know how it goes.

Rating: BUY

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

REVIEW: The Case of Comrade Tulayev, by Victor Serge

The Case of Comrade Tulayev, by Victor Serge. Published by NYRB Editions. Originally published: 1950. Literary Fiction. Translated from the Russian.



Victor Serge was the pen name of Victor Kibalchich, an anarchist and supporter of the Bolshevik Revolution who was born in Brussels, traveled in anarchist circles all over Europe and went to prison for his beliefs. He wrote many books of history and fiction and worked very hard to bring the evils of the Soviet system to light. The Case of Comrade Tulayev is his most famous novel and an ambitious attempt to do just that.

Comrade Tulayev, a highly-placed Communist official, is killed one night, and his murder throws all of Stalinist Russia and even Europe into disarray. Officials manufacture conspiracies out of whole cloth, accusing other officials both major and minor, people wholly innocent of the crime but guilty of other, less public sins. The real killer is no mystery. Serge shows an investigation out of control, trapping everyone from a spy to a provincial governor to a young woman living in Paris. Serge shows the inanity of the charges, the hopelessness of the system of justice and the inevitability of defeat for everyone except the one man we know actually committed the crime. It's fascinating and depressing, but highly readable and suspenseful at the same time.

The book's structure is roughly circular- it starts with the crime, then moves one character at a time through the rogue's gallery of suspects, then comes back around for the conclusion. One by one they are hauled in like fish, not so much guilty as unlucky to have fallen into the net. Once ensnared there is no escape. The first half of the book reads like a series of short stories about different men with no connection to each other but through Comrade Tulayev, who himself remains a cypher. In her excellent introduction, Susan Sontag compares one particularly good chapter to a Chekhov novella for its complexity and richness of character, and she's right. The chapter, focusing on a hard-nosed provincial official named Makeyev, is excellent- Serge has a talent for precision and economy of detail and the chapter flows beautifully from a brief biographical sketch to his unavoidable fate. I did not admire these men but in a way I pitied them as bystanders who don't deserve what happens to them.

The whole point of the book is underline the absurdity of the Stalinist Soviet Union, how it devoured the very people who brought it to life, and Serge does a good job, but it's not a very uplifting message and since it doesn't end very well for most of the characters, there's not much to take away. More and more people circle the drain as the book wears on, for Tulayev's death or for their role in the investigation. Soon no one is left unscathed, except the killer.

I liked the book well enough. I didn't love it and there were times when I found it dry and had to push myself through to the end. What captured my attention to begin with was the beginning- Serge starts the book with a fresh, lively anecdote about an ordinary man named Kostia, who, after having scrimped and saved for new shoes, splurges impulsively on a pretty trinket, just because it makes him happy. Later, another burst of emotion will explode this drab world like dynamite, but the opening anecdote is sweet and sad at the same time, and has a lot to say about regular people trying to find beauty and meaning in a world that is otherwise colorless and routine. When I read the opening in a bookstore I found it so charming I bought the book immediately and I wish that Serge had maintained some of that spirit throughout, and that he had written it with more of a continuous narrative. I found the short-story approach fractured and the tone dismal overall. In the latter half he circles back around to the men found guilty, and to the guilty man, and while a little of that initial freshness finds it way back into Kostia's story, for the rest there are no surprises and no hope, and I suppose that is the point after all.

Rating: BACKLIST

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