Author Archives: mwgerard

REVIEW: THE ACCURSED by Joyce Carol Oates

AccursedCover

Joyce Carol Oates is often heralded as the Queen of American Gothic, at least of modern days writers.  Recently she has focused her efforts on short stories and editing collections of others’ short stories.  This offering is a hefty novel that she began working on nearly 30 years ago while living near Princeton, NJ.

Set in 1905, on the campus of the storied Ivy League campus, the narrative bounces between its privileged residents.  Woodrow Wilson is president of the college (not yet president of the US) and he is dealing with rival administrator Andrew West.    Excerpts of the diary of Mrs. Adelaide McLean Burr (related to Aaron Burr) reveal a troubled woman whose view on the strange events is unlikely to be trustworthy.  The actions of Upton Sinclair intersperse the chapters.  But the main characters are Josiah and Annabel Slade.  The brother and sister seem to be at the center of bizarre happenings in the area.

Oates (barely) advances the story with vague, uneasy scenes like these:

Though the men certainly could not have been described as struggling together, in any sense of the phrase, it somehow happened that, as Winslow Slade sought to take hold of Woodrow Wilson’s (flailing) arm, to calm him, the younger man shrank from him as if in fright; causing the jade snuffbox to slip from his fingers onto a tabletop, and a cloud of aged snuff was released, of such surprising potency both men began to sneeze; very muh as if a malevolent spirit had escaped from the little box.

Unexpectedly then, both Woodrow Wilson and Winslow Slade suffered fits of helpless sneezing, until they could scarcely breathe, and their eyes brimmed with tears, and their hearts pounded with a lurid beat eager to burst.

And the austere old grandfather clock against a farther wall softly chimed the surprising hour of one — unheard.   Pg. 44

The book is just under 700 pages long and it is slow going.  I slogged through it, in hopes that once the complex background of characters is set that something would happen.  Instead there are only the occasional references to something happening somewhere else.  Still, I was determined to finish the book.  Perhaps there would be an amazing twist that would bring it all into focus.  But on page 321, I understood what Dorothy Parker meant when she said “This is not a book to be tossed aside lightly — it should be thrown with great force.”  Two characters are having an exchange about deductive reasoning and Sherlock Holmes is discussed.  As a Holmes fanatic, I was pretty excited.  Then this happened….

“Recall, the ‘mysterious behavior’ of the Hound of the Baskervilles, that did not bark as it might have been expected to bark?  In this case, the Wilsons’ portly greyhound Hannibal — (which the undergraduates call ‘Box-on-Legs) — behaved in a more conventional canine fashion by howling inexplicably — and very loudly — in the night, upon several occasions just last week.”  Pg. 321

What is known as the “curious incident of the dog in the night-time” is NOT from The Hound of the Baskervilles.  It is from “Silver Blaze.”  The stablemaster John Straker is known to the dog and therefore does not bark, despite the horseman’s nefarious plans.  Just to make sure that this would not become character flaw that is pointed out later, I gritted my teeth and read on.  To no avail.  I read about another 20 pages, but I couldn’t justify reading any more of it when there are just so many books in my TBR pile.

JoyceCarolOates

As the Queen of the Modern Gothic, Oates should have known better.  And if she didn’t, her editors should have caught it.  I suppose there is a slight chance that the character is corrected later — and if anyone who has read it knows, please leave a comment.

Otherwise, I say skip this one.

Many thanks to Ecco for the review copy.
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ISBN: 9780062231703
ISBN10: 0062231707
Imprint: Ecco
On Sale: 3/5/2013
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 6 x 9
Pages: 688
$27.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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REVIEW: DEATH IN THE VINES by M. L. Longworth

Death in the Vines

Every summer reading list needs a cozy mystery.  This one is nestled in the community of Aix-en-Provence.  Magistrate Verlaque oversees Commissioner Paulik’s investigation of a possible wine theft.  A local vineyard is stunned to discover a number of irreplaceable bottles from its cellar.

Soon local law enforcement will wish the only crime they had to investigate was so innocuous.  Mme D’Arras has gone missing and her husband is beside himself with worry.  Unfortunately she will not return home from her wanderings like she has so many times before.  Pauline D’Arras is found dead in a vineyard.  Was it an accident?  Did she snoop too much at her neighbors house? The mystery deepens, and Verlaque calls upon his very capable staff at the Palais de Justice to solve it.

Verlaque’s capable girlfriend, Marine Bonnet adds her observations to the mix.  Her amateur detective skills come in handy on more than one occasion and everyday tasks become clues.  Author Longworth gives her academic characters in the story local flavor:

Marine Bonnet shirted from foot to foot, angry that she was having to line up at the post office on the sole day when she didn’t have to teach.  She had prepared the large manila envelope ahead of time, but the two automated machines that weighed and stamped parcels were out of order.  she was pleased with her essay on the relationship, and admiration, that Honore Mirabeau — Aix-en-Provence’s famed politician and man of letters — had shared with Thomas Jefferson.  She even thought that the paper could become a chapter in what she thought should be a new, sorely needed more modern biography of of Mirabeau.   Pg. 65

Typical Street Scene in Vieil Aix
Aix-En-Provence

The characters, regardless of their daily imperatives, manage to enjoy good wine, puff contraband cigars, and pick up fresh dinner ingredients at the market.  Settings include well worn side streets, historic homes, and established wineries.  It wouldn’t be a Bonnet & Verlaque mystery without it.  And it’s clear that Longworth holds a special affinity for the lifestyle as well.

L’Agence de la Ville was Aix’s biggest and most luxurious real-estate agency, in a town that could almost boast more Realtors than doctors.  It had a prime location on the Cours Mirabeau — on the north side of the café side, not the south bank side — so that one could stroll after a coffee and gaze at the framed, backlit color advertisements of bastides, stone mas, hôtels particuliers, lavish apartments, and even the converted barn or two.  The houses were located in the most desirable areas of Provence: Aix and its environs, the southern Lubéron, and the Marseille coast.  most of the properties had prices in the seven digits; for others, no price was given only the words “Inquire with us….” Pg. 188

Even amid the murders and mayhem, sun-soaked Southern France is held in high esteem.  This book is a concise, compact and quick read — the perfect formula for a summer cozy.

Many thanks to Laura at Penguin for the review copy.

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ISBN: 9780143122449
304 pages
28 May 2013
Penguin
8.26 x 5.23in
18 – AND UP

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GIVEAWAY: THE BOOKMAN’S TALE by Charlie Lovett

Hello Dear Readers!

I have a great giveaway for you.  Just leave a comment and be entered to win this new book.  I just started reading it myself and am enjoying it quite at bit.

BookmansTale

 

Description:

Hay-on-Wye, 1995. Peter Byerly isn’t sure what drew him into this particular bookshop. Nine months earlier, the death of his beloved wife, Amanda, had left him shattered. The young antiquarian bookseller relocated from North Carolina to the English countryside, hoping to rediscover the joy he once took in collecting and restoring rare books. But upon opening an eighteenth-century study of Shakespeare forgeries, Peter is shocked when a portrait of Amanda tumbles out of its pages. Of course, it isn’t really her. The watercolor is clearly Victorian. Yet the resemblance is uncanny, and Peter becomes obsessed with learning the picture’s origins.

As he follows the trail back first to the Victorian era and then to Shakespeare’s time, Peter communes with Amanda’s spirit, learns the truth about his own past, and discovers a book that might definitively prove Shakespeare was, indeed, the author of all his plays.

The kind folks at Viking/Penguin will send one copy of this brand new book to one lucky winner to an address in the Continental US.  Here’s what you need to say in the comments:

1) Leave your first name
2) Include your email address in the following format — name (at) email (dot) com — to prevent spam.
3) Tell us your favorite work by Shakespeare.

Contest is now closed!  Congratulations to Meg Cronin!

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REVIEW: THE HONEY THIEF

By Nasaf Mazari & Robert Hillman

The_Honey_Thief_1

Hazarajat, a central area of Afghanistan, has remained rural for centuries.  Though modernity has seeped through the cracks of this archaic land, traditions have remained.  One of those customs is storytelling.  The authors bring their type of storytelling heritage to a Western audience.

In the city where I live now, all the stories are in books.  They are studied in universities.  I am not sure that these stories still pierce the flesh of those who hear them and make a life for themselves in the listener’s heart.  In Afghanistan, we have very few universities and very few professors.  The history of the Hazara is told in the fields, in our tents, in our houses.  Many of the stories I heard when I was growing up, even those from centuries ago, came to life again before my eyes.   Pg. 3-4

These interwoven stories feel ancient, as old as the Hazara people.  Yet when the reader thinks they are hearing a story that took places many years ago, the narrator drops in a modern detail.  It is slightly jarring, but it is effective.  It reminds the reader that the themes of humanity remain the same, even if times change.

Near Hazarat
Near Hazarat, Afghanistan

The tales surround a honey maker, a the search for a snow leopard, an unlikely musician, an unlikelier political dissident, and even an American baseball pendant.

The book also illuminates the culture of the Hazara people — sometimes with great humor.

Suspicion of strangers is as common amongst the Hazara as amongst any other people.  The villagers watched the house about had once belonged to the wool-dyer to satisfy their curiosity about the new owner, and also to make sure that he was not a spy in the employment of Shah Zahir.  It was thought, too, that the house of the wool-dyer might be cursed since it acted as a magnet for desperate people.  Some of the older people of the town claimed that the house had been occupied by madmen even before the time of the wool-dyer.  Pg. 81

Hazara, A candy factory in Kabul.  By Stve McCurry
Hazara, A candy factory in Kabul. By Steve McCurry

The Honey Thief is a kind of modern-day 1001 Nights for the Hazara.  It is a truly joyful set of fables.  Anyone with an interest in storytelling traditions in vibrant cultures and hearing tales that truly resonate needs to read this book.  It is destined to become a classic.

Many thanks to Jane at Viking / Penguin for the review copy.

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ISBN 9780670026487
304 pages
18 Apr 2013
Viking Adult
9.25 x 6.25in
18 – AND UP

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REVIEW: THE GOLEM AND THE JINNI by Helene Wecker

golem

In the turn-of-the-century New York City, a Syrian tinsmith names Arbeely is repairing a copper flask, when he unwittingly releases a jinni.  The spirit has been captive an untold number of decades, unable to enjoy the freedom he once enjoyed.  The tinsmith, stunned, takes in the wayward jinni.  He gives him a cot and the name Saleh.

In the meantime, a golem without a master walks ashore.  She can hear the thoughts of those around her, and in the tenements of Lower Manhattan there is plenty of desperation to be heard.  A wise Rabbi Meyer sees the wandering golem and invites her in to his small room, giving her the name Chava.

The two supernatural creatures are adrift in the overwhelming city.  Not only are they at the same crossroads as any other immigrant in America, they are also attempting to navigate it trapped in a human form.  The two have separate narratives that eventually meet and intermingle.  They bond over their similarities, but still struggle with how very alone in the world they are.

The Jinni walked north along Washington Street, wondering if he’d ever be truly alone again.  At times the desert had felt too empty for him, but this opposite extreme was harder to bear.  The street was no less crowded than the coffeehouse had been.  Families thronged the sidewalks, all taking advantage of the warm weekend afternoon.  And where there were not humans there were horses, a standstill parade of them, each attached to a cart, each cart carrying a man, each man yelling at the others to clear out of his way — all in a myriad of languages that the Jinni had never before heard but nonetheless comprehended, and now he was coming to resent his own seemingly inexhaustible resources of understanding.  ~Pg. 102

VintageGenieLamp

They each become important members of their community, despite their insecurities.  Saleh is noted for his incredible metalsmithing skills and fine artistry.  Chava works in a Jewish bakery, kneading at superhuman speed.  They have found some purpose in their jobs, yet something is still missing.

The book alternates between narratives and is interspersed with an even more ancient story from the Jinni’s past.  In fact, this depth makes Saleh’s “side” of the story much more compelling than Chava’s.  I found his character complicated but deliciously so.  Chava was sympathetic but less interesting.

The novel also could have been about 75 pages shorter.  At times the narrative slows too much.  The lull lasts long enough for the reader to second guess himself.

The Golem and the Jinni will be a good read for a lazy summer day.

Many thanks to HarperCollins for the review copy.

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ISBN: 9780062110831
ISBN10: 0062110837
Imprint: Harper
On Sale: 4/23/2013
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 6 x 9
Pages: 496; $26.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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Trouble Above – via Futility Closet

Trouble Above – Futility Closet.

I have fully considered the project of these our modern Dædalists, and am resolved so far to discourage it, as to prevent any person from flying in my time. It would fill the world with innumerable immoralities, and give such occasions for intrigues as people cannot meet with who have nothing but legs to carry them. You should have a couple of lovers make a midnight assignation upon the top of the monument, and see the cupola of St. Paul’s covered with both sexes like the outside of a pigeon-house. Nothing would be more frequent than to see a beau flying in at a garret window, or a gallant giving chaos to his mistress, like a hawk after a lark. There would be no walking in a shady wood without springing a covey of toasts. The poor husband could not dream what was doing over his head. If he were jealous, indeed, he might clip his wife’s wings, but what would this avail when there were flocks of whore-masters perpetually hovering over his house? What concern would the father of a family be in all the time his daughter was upon the wing?

– Joseph Addison, Guardian, July 20, 1713

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REVIEW: THERE WAS AN OLD WOMAN by Hallie Ephron

Therewasanoldwoman-HC-hi-res-final

 

Perhaps what makes this novel so frightening is that it could happen to anyone.  The devious plan is so deceptively simple that it barely registers as out of place.

The narrative alternates between two feisty heroines — Mina, an elderly resident of the quiet Higgs Point neighborhood in the Bronx and Evie, a young, talented, workaholic curator for a New York historical society.  Evie has managed to escape her paltry childhood surroundings and all its unfortunate memories.  She has crafted a life, albeit with blinders on, in Manhattan.  It’s not so far as the crow flies, but it’s worlds away from her beginnings.  When Evie’s mom suffers another alcohol-induced health crash, her sister Ginger insists it’s “Evie’s turn” to deal with crisis.  In truth, both sisters are mentally and emotionally exhausted by their mother’s continued failings.  Evie guiltily accepts her role and shuffles off to Higgs Point.

Meanwhile, Mina Yetner is the quintessential cranky old lady.  But she is sharp as a tack and uses her busybody skills to help others in the neighborhood.  When her neighbor, Evie’s mother, is taken away in an ambulance she is the one who calls the daughters.  Mina and Evie strike up an unlikely partnership while Evie begins to clean up her mother’s house and sort estate matters.

I was reminded of Gaslight while reading this.  Because of the dueling points-of-view, the reader is left to wonder where the reality is.  Is there senility at work?  Or perhaps the protagonist just isn’t seeing what they want to ignore?  The suspense continually builds even as the characters begin to discover pieces of the puzzle.

July 1945
July 1945

Ephron works in crucial historical details that bring this book out of the realm of cheap thrills.  For example, Evie’s current exhibit at the museum includes a display related to the B52 bomber that flew into the Empire State Building.  And there is a minor thread surrounding Betty Lou Oliver who survived the 75-story drop when elevator cables broke.  These things really happened and Ephron uses them to great effect.  They make the story much, much richer.

The setting, Higgs Point, is not exactly that, but it is based on a real area.  Harding Park did once have an amusement park (another subplot) at the turn-of-the-century.  Here is a great post from Forgotten NY on the area.  By tying the story so closely to reality, it is all the more frightening.

The novel is an approachable one and is easily read in a quiet afternoon.  I look forward to more by Hallie Ephron.

Many thanks to the kind folks at William Morrow for the advanced review copy.
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ISBN: 9780062117601
ISBN10: 0062117602
Imprint: William Morrow
On Sale: 4/2/2013
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 6 x 9
Pages: 304; $25.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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New App — WifeBlocker

I have been working for several months on an app that I hope you will be the first to download.  It is still new, so there may be some glitches, which I hope you will let me know about so I can fix.

The Problem:

You’re out with the guys, or in the middle of a great poker game.  The wife calls or texts you.  ”When are you coming home?”  ”Why are you out so late?” “Can you pick up diapers on the way home?”  You love her, but sometimes the interruptions just throw you off your game, not to mention the ribbing you take from the guys.

The Solution:

Wife2_glossy

This fully-customizable app allows you to duck and dodge these interfering messages from the lady at home.  You can:

  • Delay incoming text messages a specified interval of time.  This app will time stamp them so you can show her that the text didn’t come in until it was too late.  
  • Prevent incoming text messages entirely, until you reinstate it.  This app will rewrite the message stream to back this up.  You can also set it to populate the stream of messages at a later time.
  • Temporary block calls from her number.
  • Erase “emoticons”
  • For an additional fee, WifeBlocker will also create error messages in your text message stream that show the network was down at the time she called and / or texted you.

The app also has a cloaking device which changes into an innocuous program when it is enabled.

Please visit the app page located in the Apple Store.  I hope you will give it a try!

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REVIEW: OZ THE GREAT AND POWERFUL (2013)

This movie makes me fear even more for the future of the Star Wars franchise.  What has happened to Disney?  Instead of inspiring wonder and amusement, they too seem to have gone the way of bland mediocrity, an opiate for the cinematic masses.  If it weren’t for Pixar, there would be no creative output from the Mouse’s film vault.

The writing isn’t terrible, but neither is it particularly good.  The theme of being the best you can be and being true to yourself is so repetitive as to become nauseating.  What really kills this movie is the acting.

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James Franco squints his way through, delivering ridiculously bad performances throughout.  It’s as if he thinks his mildly decent looks will distract the audience from how wretched he is.  Mila Kunis, usually passable if not brilliant, is out of step the entire film.  I don’t entirely blame her however — she should have been directed better. Michelle Williams was saccharine and vapid.  If I were one of the witchy sisters, I’d try to ruin her too.  Rachel Weisz manages to merely nibble at the scenery rather than gobble it, in most scenes.   Actually, the best performances are from two CGI characters — China Doll and Finley the Monkey.

oz-great-powerful-china-doll-monkey

It’s sad.  L. Frank Baum gave us characters and adventures that are still magical over 100 years later.  But even in the hands of the most respected animators in the world, it fails.

The best part of the movie is the brilliant opening credit sequence.  It perfectly captures turn-of-the-century circus and magic aesthetic.  You can watch it here and spare yourself the rest of the movie:

This steampunky theme returns only later in the movie to great effect.  I do wish they had used the simplicity and shabby realism of this style more often.

In short, the movie is terrible.  It has no business joining the annals of Oz, nor does it deserve a place on the shelf next to Sleeping Beauty or Toy Story.  Like one of the magician’s tricks, this was a cheap illusion to disappear money out of our pockets and into the Disney’s.

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Witley Wonder Underwater Ballroom | via Atlas Obscura

“The main house on the estate was a 32-room mansion, and Wright had three artificial lakes constructed, the 9,000+ acres lavishly landscaped and reeking of wealth and means. Perhaps the most famous addition to the palatial properties was the underground conservatory/smoking room with aquarium windows, an epic statue seemingly rising out of the manufactured lake on the underwater dome that gave the glorious below-ground room a ballroom-like appearance.”  Read more:  Witley Wonder Underwater Ballroom | Atlas Obscura.

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REVIEW: THE UNCHANGEABLE SPOTS OF LEOPARDS by Kristopher Jansma

SpotsofLeopards

This is the The Talented Mr. Ripley for the newest generation.  It’s a twisting tale of identity and the search for true companionship.  Each chapter marks another episode in the young protagonist’s life.

The book opens with an “Author’s Note”, but this is only the first of many kindly deceptions.  It’s not from the author Jansma, but rather the shifting personality of the narrator.  In just the first paragraph, Jansma has already sketched a fascinating and compelling narrator.

I’ve lost every book I’ve ever written. I lost the first one here in Terminal B, where I became a writer, twenty-eight years ago, in the after-school hours and on vacations while I waited for my mother to return from doling out honey-roasted peanuts at eighteen thousand feet.  ~Pg. 1

From there on, Jansma has the reader in his clutches.  In each chapter, the narrator is a bit older, and coming in to his own.  each chapter is a slight of hand that reveals itself to be a reiteration of the same basic story.  Boy loves girl who is too far above him, and is already in love with another boy.  But maddeningly, the reader somehow never sees it coming.  This basic strand is so far buried in the massive, complicated tapestry that we forget all about it.  Until it comes back to haunt us — and the narrator.

This narrator is a chameleon by choice, donning various cloaks until he finds one that he likes.  He travels the world, from the Grand Canyon to Manhattan jazz clubs, to Sri Lankan jungles to the wilds of Africa.  But each time around, there is a loop he cannot escape.

Kristopher Jansma
Kristopher Jansma

Writers and literary geeks will also enjoy the narrator’s inner voice as he struggles with his own writing.  In an early chapter, he talks about the standard college composition class, filled with self-important egos and undiscovered voices.  Yet, even there, words have power.

Julian held books right close up to his face — a habit formed, he explained, in his nearsighted youth — and now, even with the contact lenses in, he liked to have the page within a few inches of his eyes.  So close that the pages scraped the tip of his nose as he turned them.  So close that, when he inhaled sharply at a particularly good turn of phrase, the paper seemed to lift up slightly and tremble before settling back again.  ~Pg. 40

And he waxes rhapsodic about the writing process.

I have always done my best work in crowded transportation hubs.  Airports, train stations — a bus stop, one time — these have been like my personal little cafes doted along the Seine.  I’d given up being a writer, aside from the essays that I sold to my shadowy students around the globe.  ~Pg. 141

And somewhere in all of these philosophical musings and attempts at identity, the truth lies.  Here we come back to that thread again.  That thread is the writer’s truth, that which doesn’t change despite the various characters and plot twists that life brings at us.

I so enjoyed reading this book. It doesn’t get caught up in itself or become arrogant.  Instead, it shows its narrator’s weaknesses for the entertainment of the reader. It’s thoughtful enough to be affecting, but remains accessible, and more than that, it is an enchanting book.

Many thanks to Lindsay and Elaine at Penguin for the review copy.

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Hardcover
9.25 x 6.25in
272 pages
ISBN 9780670026005
21 Mar 2013
Viking Adult
18 – AND UP

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REVIEW: THE MAN FROM PRIMROSE LANE by James Renner

PrimroseLane

This book is a bizarre and twisted that deals with obsession.  Told primarily in the third person but from the point-of-view of reporter and best-selling true crime author David Neff.  With a nose for finding stories, David takes possession of an abandoned box of clippings and files about a cold case.  The more he reads, the more he becomes obsessed about the missing young girls –just like all the detectives before him.

Meanwhile, the police are investigating a bizarre crime with an even stranger victim.  The killer’s prey was a recluse, a man who rarely went outside, who had nonsensical items delivered to his house, a house in which he always wore mittens, the man from Primrose Lane.

Through a peculiar set of circumstances, Neff is implicated in the murder.  Now on the run, his investigation becomes more than just an obsession — he needs to save his own skin.

The book sits outside of typical genres.  It employs aspects of an edgy, modern murder mystery as well as science fiction and pulpy narratives.

There was one thing that annoyed him.  He could take the coldness, the negativity, the migraines she sometimes got that kept her in bed for two days.  he could forgive her forgetting his birthday and for always saying ‘effect’ when she really meant ‘affect.’  He could forgive her for leaving her blow dryer on his side of the bedroom vanity and for making him spray that floral stuff in the bathroom.  He didn’t mind all this because he never took for granted the way her bottom lip puffed out a bit when she was drunk or the way she twisted her hair in her fingers when he lay in her lap watching television.  The only thing that really annoyed him, the only thing he just could not get over, was her love of Christopher Pike, a late-eighties teen-lit horror novelist she’d become obsessed with in her sister’s absence.   ~Pg. 45

The structure bounces between narrators and flashbacks, almost edited for the screen in some places, until it all comes together.  I wanted to continue reading it, but it is rough going.  It is not for the faint of heart.  I would compare its graphic nature to an episode of Law & Order: SVU.  All in all, I was engrossed in the story.

Bradley Cooper will play the main lead character in a film adaptation.

And I am unsurprised that it has already been optioned to be made into a movie.  The film version will star Bradley Cooper, who is much more dapper than I imagined David Neff to be, but then again, don’t we all hope our own selves will be played by a more attractive doppelganger.

Many thanks to Gabrielle and Andrea at Picador for the review copy.
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Picador
March 2013
Trade Paperback
ISBN: 9781250024169
ISBN10: 1250024161
5 1/2 x 8 1/4 inches, 384 pages

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REVIEW: THE DAMNATION OF JOHN DONELLAN by Elizabeth Cooke

JohnDonellan

It has all the makings of a Georgian era Agatha Christie novel — a house full of suspects, bizarre alibis, unsubstantiated timelines, inheritances, jealousy, and a bottle or two of poison.

When young soon-to-be baronet Theodosius Boughton dies unexpectedly one morning, a scandal erupts in the quiet countryside county of Warwickshire.  Although not in tip-top shape, Theodosius was certainly not ailing in such a way as to portend death.  What about the prescription that he complained “smelled of bitter almonds”?  Was he poisoned? Or an accident? Or something else entirely?

Between a domineering Lady of the house, a bitter chambermaid, and a troubled son-in-law, did someone poison the young heir?  Did the poor forensics after the fact obscure the true cause of death?

Exterior of All Saints' Church, Chadshunt, Warwickshire. Photo by Martin Beek (2006).
Exterior of All Saints’ Church, Chadshunt, Warwickshire. Photo by Martin Beek (2006).

Cooke is thorough.  She lines up court testimony, timelines, newspaper accounts, letters, and even John Donellan’s own treatise for his innocence.  Cooke painstakingly compares these notes and finds discrepancies in the outcome of the trial.

The Mail On Sunday compared it to Kate Summerscale’s The Suspicions of Mr Whicher.   It does have its similarities, but there is no narrator, as it were.  Mr Whicher, a respected policeman and detective, serves as a guide through the murder at Road Hill House.  With Cooke’s book we have no such character to turn to.  As such the reader feels a bit more abandoned among the myriad suppositions and theories.

Mr Whicher and John Donellan do both suffer somewhat from the dryness of the facts.  There is always a danger in presenting a case that academics can bog down the narrative.  This does happen a bit here.  For the most part it is forgivable, but about half way through the book there is one particularly rough patch where Cooke compares depositions with trial testimony and interjects her own suspicions.  In this section the narrative is nearly entirely lost and the story gets a bit hard to follow.

The case has been cited numerous times as an example of the failings of the judicial system, or of poor defense representation.  In effect, it has taken on a life of its own, especially in English courtroom history.  But by the time it reached the judge and jury, much of the case had already been decided.  Cooke adds the background with each ‘character’s’ history, heritage and personality.  She does her best to give the case context and perhaps shed new light on a scandalous trial.

Many thanks to the folks at Bloomsbury Press / Walker Books for the review copy.
_______________________

*Now available in paperback*

Published: 10-02-2012
Format: Hardback
Edition: 1st
Extent: 304pgs
ISBN: 9780802779960
Imprint: Walker Books
Illustrations: 16p B&W ins.
Dimensions: 5 1/2″ x 8 1/4″
RRP: $25.00

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REVIEW: THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ by L. Frank Baum

With Illustrations by Michael Sieben

OzCoverHiRes

Just in time for the release of Oz: The Great and Powerful, comes an all new edition of the original classic children’s story.

All the usual characters are there.  Dorothy and Toto are swept up by a tornado and find themselves in the colorful land of Oz.  There they meet up with witches — good and bad –, Munchkins, a scarecrow, a tin woodsman and a very tame lion.  The group makes their way down the yellow brick road, through poppy fields, to the glowing Emerald City.

It’s impossible to not compare the original book with the film from 1939.  Images of Judy Garland and Ray Bolger certainly flit across the back of one’s mind.  And it’s fun to compare the text with what became the MGM classic.  Most people are familiar with the fact that Dorothy’s magic shows were silver, but ruby red looked better in Technicolor.

OzPg112

One of the most disappointing cuts from book to movie are some of the smaller moments during their journey.  We see the characters using the very thing they think they don’t have.  The scarecrow creates cunning plans, the tin woodsman is inspired by his heart, and the lion acts with extreme bravery.

Michael Sieben has created all new illustrations for this edition.  Again, not an easy task considering the iconic images that everyone has seen and known for their entire lives.  The book is very colorful and full of these illustrations.  While I recognize the artistic talent, their style is not for me.  The characters are reminiscent of Raggedy Ann and Andy — not just the scarecrow, but all of them.  They’re kinda creepy.

Oz

Aside from the artwork, I enjoyed revisiting this classic.  The simplicity of the prose is something rare in children’s books over 100 years later.  This is an excellent addition to an older child’s library.

Many thanks to Joel and Harper Design for the review copy.
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ISBN: 9780062018083
ISBN10: 0062018086
Imprint: Harper Design
On Sale: 2/19/2013
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 5 3/4 x 8 1/4
Pages: 224; $18.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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REVIEW: THE BURNING AIR by Erin Kelly

burning-air

Erin Kelly’s third novel puts a modern twist on a classic archetype:  The English country house mystery.  This is a chilling psychological tale, told from a number increasingly unreliable narrators.

The MacBride family is well-to-do and respectable.  The patriarch is a lauded schoolmaster in a prim and proper English town.  When the mother of the family dies with little warning, the family decides to continue their Guy Fawkes family tradition.  They agree to meet at Far Barn, the homestead, for Bonfire Night, despite their mother’s absence.  Tensions are high and everyone is walking on eggshells.  Characters feel their resolve unravel — and then the real problems start.

Kelly deftly links together the various narrators.  Each has a distinct voice, sometimes frighteningly so.  They get into the reader’s head and even when they are clearly morally demented, we go along with their line of thinking – at least while they are talking.  It makes it so much more than just storytelling.  And as the reader becomes more and more engaged, the book begins to take on a snowball effect.  Situations are more dire, and we read faster and faster, trying to stay ahead of the train that is barreling down upon us.

A Bonfire in Yorkshire
A Bonfire in Yorkshire

She is also adept at moody atmospheric.  Here, the narrator approaches the main location of the book:

The road thinned to a one-track lane as they began the descent into the valley and dipped so steeply the children’s ears popped.  As they came within a mile of the barn, the hedgerows themselves seemed to squeeze their oversized car along the road like a clot through a vein.  Branches jabbed witchy fingers through windows, making the boys scream with something between terror and laughter, and Edie echo their sounds.  The signpost for Far Barn, white paint on a black wooden plaque, had faded into illegibility but new visitors were rare.  Will made the right turn into the rutted track that connected their land to the rest of the world.

The barn was a black mass on a cloud-blind night, the only sign of light or life the reflection of their own headlights in the blank windows and against the gloss of the ebony slats.

The book is fast-paced and suspenseful.  It is a fine example of how powerful perceptions can affect not only one’s own life, but the domino effect on everyone else.  It is chilling and a fantastic read.

Many thanks to Meghan with Viking/Penguin for the review copy.

____________________________________

ISBN 9780670026722
336 pages
21 Feb 2013
Pamela Dorman Books
9.25 x 6.25in
18 – AND UP

 

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REVIEW: LADY AT THE O.K. CORRAL by Ann Kirschner

OkCorralI must admit – I never knew that Wyatt Earp was married.  He was, by most accounts, a dashing and magnetic man.  But for every larger-than-life aspect of his legend, there was Josephine (Marcus) Earp.

Daughter of a Jewish family, she struggled to find her own identity in Victorian Era America.  When one could not be found, she invented it.  Never well-off, her family moved from NY to San Francisco.  According to Kirschner, “rate wars between rival railroads and steamship companies made it actually cheaper for some families to move than to pay the rent.” It was this exotic, West Coast port city that was a springboard for her coming adventures.  Drawn to the west by the promise of fame and fortune, Josephine joined a travelling dance troupe.   The act led her to Tombstone, AZ, then a mining boom town, grown up from the silver claims nearby.

A Young Wyatt Earp
A Young Wyatt EarpJosephine Marcus EarpJosephine Marcus Earp

Kirschner’s biography is gives only a cursory glance to the shootout at the O.K. Corral and  Wyatt’s time in Tombstone.  The main crux of the book is their life after Tombstone.   Though the two were never married in a formal ceremony, they were inseparable for almost 50 years.  A good chunk of the narrative is spent during their frontier days in Alaska during the Gold Rush.   It seems these were some of her happiest days — at least her most enjoyable.

The inhospitable climate and smallness of the town loosened everyone up.  Their bulky cold-weather clothes were a source of amusement, as well as a great equalizer.  Josephine mockingly compared their exuberant and casual parties to a formal cotillion: ‘Have you not a picture in your mind of several couples with powdered wigs, the men in velvet coats and satin breeches, the women in full-hooped and panniered gowns, moving through the stately measures of a minuet with courtly grace to the accompaniment of violins and harpsichord?  Then banish it!  Put in its place one of the strong men in mackinaws, corduroys and mukluks, and fair ladies in corduroy jackets, short skirts and — yes mukluks — but moving through the stately measure of the dance with courtly grace to the accompaniment of a violin and a banjo!’  ~Pg. 101

These insights into frontier life are priceless.  It is in these moments that their legend comes to life.  At other times, the book becomes a litany of who went where and when, with little in the way of in depth context.  The last third is devoted to Josephine’s increasingly futile attempts to shape history’s memory of Wyatt Earp and the shootout at the O.K. Corral.

It is overall an engaging book on an important character in American history who has been all but forgotten — partially because Josephine was constantly obscuring her own past.  Kirschner does an excellent job of unearthing clues and piecing together Mrs. Earp’s story.

Many thanks to the folks at HarperCollins for the review copy.
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ISBN: 9780061864506
ISBN10: 0061864501
Imprint: Harper
On Sale: 3/5/2013
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 6 x 9
Pages: 304; $27.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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REVIEW: THE REAL JANE AUSTEN by Paula Byrne

Real Jane Austen

Frustratingly little is known about Jane Austen.  We don’t know what she looked like.  There is only one drawing of her, as a youth, that is considered to be a portrait, but even some scholars don’t accept that.

In time for Jane Austen’s bicentennial year, Paula Byrne has put together a compilation of her life.  Byrne chooses to inspect the famed writer’s past by sifting through objects in her life.  It is almost like a scrapbook of the Austen family.

RealJane_ab_1_xii_1_386.pdf

Each “thing” is an aspect of Jane’s life, and launches the chapter’s topic.  ”The Card Of Lace” outlines a somewhat famous incident involving her aunt, Mrs. Leigh-Parrot’s shoplifting trial.  But the chapter is really about Jane’s days in Bath and about the relationship with these wealthy-if-erratic relatives.

One of my favorite chapters is based on “The Theatrical Scenes”.  When Rev. Austen determined to move his family from the Steventon parsonage, nearly all of its contents were placed up for auction.  Though undoubtedly distressing for the Austen family, there is a great deal of information embedded in the ad in the local paper.  Among the usual furnishings are listed a “set of theatrical scenes etc. etc.” With this tidbit, Byrne expands on the probable family dynamic as regards plays and recitals.  From there, she further explores the idea of theatre in England at the time.

Another chapter begins with Jane’s brother’s military cap, and goes on to explore the siblings’ relationship as well as how military lives affected families of the era.  Yet another focuses on a shawl and its representation of trade with the East.  Throughout all of these examples, Byrne ties in passages and characters in Austen’s novels, showing how the author would have been inspired by what was around her.

RealJane_ab_1_xii_1_386.pdf

Byrne’ research is impeccable.  If there was anything to be found on Austen, she found it.  And she was smart to structure the biography as she did — rather than a chronological effort.  But because of the lack of direct information about Austen, the book is unfortunately peppered with holes.  Byrne often leaves parenthetical notes such as “All letters from 1806 are gone”.  The phrasing of her subject also includes distancing with caveats like “it is probable that” or “we can assume that”.  While these are of course the right thing to do from an academic standpoint, it does waterdown the connection the reader has with Austen.  With Byrne’s book on Evelyn Waugh, the reader is swept away by Waugh’s personality and fast-paced life.  I hardly noticed I was reading a biography.  In  this, there is still a bit of distance between us and understanding Jane Austen.  Byrne does her best to help us bridge that gap.

Thanks to the kind people at Harper for the review copy.
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ISBN: 9780061999093
ISBN10: 0061999091
Imprint: Harper
On Sale: 1/29/2013
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 6 x 9
Pages: 400; $29.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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THE GREATCOAT by Helen Dunmore

The-Greatcoat-Helen-Dunmore

This book would have done better as a short story.  It has the makings of a good yarn, but it draws things out much too long.  If kept clean and simple, it would have been much more effective.

In 1952, a young woman, newly married, takes up a worn, dingy apartment with her husband.  He insists their stay will be brief, while they save up enough money to move elsewhere.  Young Isabel does her best to be patient and amuse herself while home alone.  But her imagination and paranoia start to take over.  The landlady, who lives upstairs, paces at all hours of the night, and keeps the house too cold.  Isabel is convinced the lady is trying to drive her mad.  Isabel’s husband, a doctor, is a rational man of science and does his best to calm her irrational fears, but his late night calls do little to help the situation.

One frigid night, Isabel finds an RAF coat, stuffed in a crevice in the wall of the decrepit flat.  She uses it to keep herself warm at night, but she has opened up a portal to a time when Yorkshire was home to an airfield, when the skies were filled with Lancasters going on air raids and flight crews counted down the missions until they could go home.  She begins to get visitations (ghostly, or perhaps imagined?), from a pilot.  Is she just starved for attention?  Or is she really seeing and speaking to this man?

As I said, this would have done much better as a short story.  Elements of madness, ghosts, and unhappy characters made for some strong possibilities, but they were diluted by the word count.  Any punch they might have packed were drawn down by giving the reader too much time to think about it.

I should mention that this book was published by Hammer, a new wing of the famed Hammer Films.  In that regard, this book fits perfectly.  There is enough to keep the reader turning the page, but no reason to return to it later.

Thank you to Hammer for sending me the review copy.
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Category: Book
Publication dates:
February 2, 2012 (UK – Hardback)
August 30, 2012 (UK – Paperback)
Language: English
Pages: 196
ISBN: 978-0099564935
Written by: Helen Dunmore

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REVIEW: ALIBIS by Andre Aciman

Alibis

When I set to read a book that I plan to review, I come at it a little differently than just reading for fun.  I make notes, mental and written, about style or themes that I want to mention in the review.  And I dogear pages that have a passage I want to quote.  Sometimes I don’t end up using them, if they give away the plot, for example.  But to look at one of my books from the edge is sometimes amusing, with all the uneven corners.

Alibis is one of those books that I ran out of page corners to turn down.

André Aciman has put together a series of inspired essays.  They are about place and memory, and one’s self in relation to them.  It has a bit of philosophy in it, but the reader is so engrossed in the essays themselves, there is nothing didactic about it.  Aciman is not lecturing us, only sharing his experiences.  In do so, he reveals nuggets of truth that apply to us all.

The opening essay, Lavender, strikes a particular chord.  It begins with his recollection of his father’s scent, but at its core is really about familiarity.  Here, he writes about the empty lavender scent bottles that he cannot part with.

The bottles are stand-ins for me.  I keep them the way the ancient Egyptians kept all of their household belongings: for that day when they’d need them in the afterlife.  To part with them now is to die before my time.  And yet, there are times when I think there should have been many, many other bottles there — not just bottles I lost of forgot about, but bottles I never owned, bottles I didn’t even know existed and , but for a tiny accident, might have given an entirely different scent to my life.  There is a street I pass by every day, never once suspecting that in years to come it will lead to an apartment I still don’t know will be mine one day.  How can I not know this — isn’t there a science?  ~Pg. 9

Home and its importance for self-identity is another theme.  He also muses how this affects the writer.

A hidden nerve is what every writer is ultimately about.  It’s what all writers wish to uncover when writing about themselves in this age of the personal memoir.  And yet it’s also the first thing every writer learns to sidestep, to disguise, as though this nerve were a deep and shameful secret that needs to be swathed in many sheaths.  Some don’t evenknow they’ve screened this nerve from their own gaze, let alone another’s.  Some crudely mistake confession for introspection.  Others, more cunning perhaps, open tempting shortcuts and roundabout passageways, the better to mislead everyone.  Some can’t tell whether they’re writing to strip or hide that hidden nerve.

I have no idea to which category I belong.  ~ Pg. 87

Here again, even as a writer, Aciman is unsure where his home lies.

I loved following Aciman’s wanderings of the mind.  It’s enjoyable, not daunting.  I highly recommend this book.  Keep it handy or when you need a quiet few minutes of thoughtful, intelligent reading.

Many thanks to Picador for the review copy.
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Picador
November 2012
Trade Paperback
ISBN: 9781250013989
ISBN10: 1250013984
5 1/2 x 8 1/4 inches, 208 pages

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REVIEW: REVENGE – Eleven Dark Tales by Yoko Ogawa

RevengeBookCover

This collection of stories is frighteningly brilliant.  Each is gently tied to the next by the tiny thread.  This detailed stitching, when tugged, wrinkles and shapes the fabric around it.

I truly hesitate to explain much about the stories themselves.  The reader should discover them for himself.  I can say that Ogawa makes the completely ordinary and mundane absolutely unnerving.  Her tales remind me of the more offbeat writings of Roald Dahl.  (If you haven’t read The Incredible Story of Henry Sugar and Six More or  The Umbrella Man, go and grab them now).  Like Dahl, she has the ability to make reality surreal and the surreal seem perfectly real.

Author Yoko Ogawa
Author Yoko Ogawa

Take, for example, this first-person narrative in a hospital:

The walls are scuffed up, and the fluorescent light flickers creepily.  The floor of the hall slopes down from the elevator, so the laundry cart rolls forward on its own, as though pulled by an invisible hand.  Like it’s going to race down the hall and crash through the door of the morgue.  That’s creepy , too.

To be honest, the morgue doesn’t scare me much.  I don’t really understand why the other girls are so afraid of it.  They see people dying all over the hospital, while they type their reports or eat cream puffs in the lounge.  the job is even kind of nice, especially when she’s next to me.  She’s as beautiful underground as she is in the office, her face all white and pale.   ~Pg. 52

The book is translated by Stephen Snyder, who preserves the sparseness of the prose and allows Ogawa’s dark writing to fall like a ton of bricks in the reader’s lap.

This dark, labyrinthian collection was arresting and gorgeous.  As unnerving as the stories are, I could not stop devouring them.  I’m so pleased Picador has brought them to the US.

Many thanks to Picador USA for the review copy.
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Picador
1/29/2013
Trade Paperback
ISBN: 9780312674465
ISBN10: 0312674465
Rough Front/Deckel Edge
5 1/2 x 8 1/4 inches, 176 pages

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REVIEW: ELIJAH’S MERMAID by Essie Fox

EssieFox-ElijahsMermaid

In Fox’s follow-up to The Somnambulistshe eschews the sprawling country estate for the dank warren of the Limehouse district.  Found floating in the river, like a Victorian Moses, baby Pearl is plucked from the Thames.  But she enjoys no pharoah’s life.  She is raised by the mysterious but efficient Mrs. Hibbert.  The woman of the House of Mermaids does her utmost to keep Pearl safe from the leering men and from knowing about the den of iniquity in which she lives.  Finally, to remove her from other’s temptations, Pearl, who has webbed toes and is inordinately pale, is sold off to a brilliant but obsessive painter.  She becomes his mermaid.

Simultaneously, twin orphans, Elijah and Lily, are being raised by a kindly, if naïve, older man.  He sends the children with his younger brother Frederick to visit London for a bit of adventure.  Uncle Freddie is the fun, popular uncle who indulges the children’s whims, including taking a trip to Cremorne Gardens.

A sketch of London's Cremorne, a popular pleasure garden.
A sketch of London’s Cremorne, a popular pleasure garden.

Amidst the music, games and sideshows, the twins happen to meet Pearl.  The meeting is brief but the connection is instant.

This Dickensian-style novel is much darker and grittier than her first.  Characters endure forced institution and unwanted advances.  There are graphic descriptions of horrific surgeries.  It is not for the faint of heart, but neither is it gratuitous.  Alternating narratives eventually intertwine as the trio of young people try to reunite, but it will come at a price.  Asylums, kidnappings, art and obsession will stand in their way.

Water, in all its forms and effects, is clearly a theme here.  But so is personal liberty (or the lack there of), particularly for females.  Every female character is in some way trapped.  A speech by the psychiatrist Dr Cruikshank typifies the leading attitude of mental professionals. :

He was tapping his cane against his thigh while sliding closer to Freddie and speaking confidentially. ‘Women are so like children, you see, in their appetites for unhealthy food.  It is the heat and overexcitement that causes most of the trouble…not to mention this modern obsession with reading books and magazines.  You will note we have none available here.  Why, half the women in my care would probably be entirely sane but for the stimulation brought on by the use of literature.  I say that might be the problem…’  ~Pg. 286

The very idea that reading and imagination is damaging is an idea that can be dismissed  now, but was a common theory then.  It demonstrates that even the most “free” woman — well-to-do, cared for, even happily married — would have so much predetermined for her.

Yet through all of this, the three young people manage to find a sense of self.  Even more impressive, they determine to fight for it.

JW_Waterhouse_Mermaid
The Mermaid by John William Waterhouse – 1900

Again, Fox demonstrates a deep knowledge of the time, the setting and the dialogue.  She opens each chapter with a quote from a popular song or story of the era — Wilkie Collins, Charles Kingsley, Poe, Greenwell, Carroll.  And, as before, the entire tome is begun with a  familiar painting, this time The Mermaid, by JW Waterhouse.  The author immerses us in the dreadful but compelling underworld of a not-so-distant past.

As with the Somnambulist, this book does not have a US publisher.  Interested readers can purchase it via this direct link to The Book Depository, which has free worldwide shipping.  You can also read the first few pages here.  My thanks to Essie Fox and her UK publisher, Orion Books, for the review copy.  (Yes, I saved the stamps.)

Please visit the author’s site for more info about this era and her works.  It’s also just really fun to explore.
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ISBN: 9781409123354
Publication date: 08 Nov 2012
Page count: 416
Width: 153 mm
Height: 235 mm
Thickness: 34 mm
Weight: 542 g

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REVIEW: THE TOWER By Nigel Jones

Tower

Jones’ overview of the Tower of London’s thousand year history was no doubt a massive undertaking. Imagine it: ten centuries worth of sieges, celebrations, world-altering decisions, wrongful deaths and sovereign decrees all held within these walls, on just a few acres of land.

20TowerLondon
A chamber inside the Tower of London

Jones visits the (in)famous as well as the less well-known.  Henry VIII’s wives are well represented, as is the disreputable reputation of torture of its prisoners.  But it also unearths more obscure facts like Issac Newton’s position as the Warden of the Mint.  For several hundred years the coins of the realm were stamped on the grounds.  And I only knew of the menagerie because of my visit there last year.  But I didn’t realize that William Blake visited the tiger in order to observe the “fearful symmetry” of the fierce cat.

12TowerLondon
My photograph

Jones’ indexed book is well-researched and, while educational, it is far from dry.  This is partially due to the Tower’s rich history, but Jones also presents the information in an absorbing manner.  It manages to encompass the years 1078 to present day all within an approachable format.  His rich descriptions bring the ancient past to life:

Minting money was hot, hard, laborious, noisy and dangerous work.  The interior of the mint’s workshops were a hellish inferno full of the clash and splash of metal, both hard and molten.  A sweaty, smoky, smelly world where hammers clanged deafeningly and glittering, jagged splinters of precious metal and molten droplets flew through the filthy air, causing painful injuries.  Few mint workers escaped their service without losing a finger or an eye to their risky craft.   ~Pg. 35

A good deal of my knowledge of British regicidal history comes from Shakespeare’s plays.    It was enjoyable to put those pieces together with the documented stories, and learn more about the place I was fortunate enough to visit.  Surely there are layers yet to be discovered, and there is no doubt that some things will just never be known.

This is an excellent handbook for those interested in English history in general as well as the past days of the Tower.  I cannot wait to visit again, now with this insight.

** I suggest following @ravenmaster1 on Twitter.  Chris Skaife is the official Ravenmaster for the Tower of London and posts great pictures from the site.

Thank you to St. Martin’s Press for the review copy.
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October 2012
Hardcover
ISBN: 9780312622961
ISBN10: 0312622961
6 1/8 x 9 1/4 inches, 464 pages
Plus one 16-page b&w photo insert and map endpapers

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REVIEW: LES MISERABLES (2012)

Les_Misérables_Movie
I was on the fence about whether I was going to see this one until I learned it was directed by Tom Hooper, whose The King’s Speech was stunning.  I thought he would be good choice to bring out the subtly of the characters.  I also knew he could evoke era and it would be shot beautifully.

In most cases, this is true.  In general, the characters are well-drawn.  For the most part, I cared what happened to everyone (But I attribute a good deal of that to Victor Hugo as well).

As for the singing… of which 98% of it is… well… it was uneven.  Most surprisingly, Hugh Jackman‘s singing was weak.  He is in the bulk of the movie, obviously, so the fact that he sings flat most of the time is actually rather painful.  I found myself squirming in particular during “Who Am I?” and “Bring Him Home.”  His acting is fair, so I suppose if one is tone deaf, one would enjoy him more.  And to fans of his performance I say that you are more than welcome to like it/him, but that does not change the sonic frequencies that he emitted.  The majority of them were incorrect.

2012_345_173e38e0-4e76-4c71-be51-f3b26dc6b141

All of the French Revolutionaries (Marius, et al.) are very strong and did not include the annoying Broadway stare mentality I feared.  In fact, they were rather inspiring.  Unfortunately, Gavroche is irritating.  He is too much the little Oliver Twist rather than his own character.  Sasha Baron Cohen once again proves that he has real chops as the “Master of the House”.  His wife, played by Helena Bonham Carter, sadly does not match up.  She is just strange and uncomfortable to watch.

crowe1

Russell Crowe, though not perfect, was surprisingly good as Javert. He did not play the role as fiercely as I would have liked and his singing voice sounds a bit modern, but he is strong.

The true stars of the film are the ladies playing Fantine and Eponine.

LesMis-13

Anne Hathaway is heart-wrenchingly affecting as mother-factory-worker-turned-destitute-street-walker.  And just as importantly, in a musical, she is quite literally pitch-perfect.  Her voice is unaffected, pure and well under control.  It was refreshing and found myself wishing there were more of her character in the show to enjoy.

Similarly strong is Samantha Barks as Eponine.  She is sassy, troubled and smart but manages to keep the audience’s sympathy throughout her act.  Her singing is also spot-on.  I look forward to seeing more of her in the future.

Les MiserablesSince these actresses have the two most famous songs from the show (I Dreamed a Dream and On My Own, respectively), it is great that they have the best pipes.

The filming was a bit strange.  Nearly all of it (as far as I could tell) was shot with a hand-held camera.  Many scenes for shaky and uneven.  Perhaps this was Hooper’s attempt to bring the audience in, but after two and a half hours it became difficult to watch.  I was even less impressed with the use of the fish eye lens for Fantine’s descent.  Yes, I know, he was trying to make it be Fantine’s point-of-view, funhouse mirror style, but it was first-year film student type of stuff.  All style and no substance.

The same with the sets.  Again, I am sure it was a conscious choice, but the backgrounds were very set-like, rather than realistic.  I was hoping that Hooper would have chosen for a more realistic style that film would allow for, a level of detail that isn’t possible on stage.

In general, the film is watchable, but not the perfect masterpiece it could have been.

**Addition**

A reader asked me what I though of Amanda Seyfried, who played the adult Cosette.  In truth, I forgot to include her because she was really rather forgettable.  Her voice tends to warble but it is on pitch.  Though her singing is passable, she is incredibly boring.  She has no personality.   So little, in fact, that you wish Marius were actually in love Eponine rather than Cosette. 

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REVIEW: BEAUTIFUL LIES by Clare Clark

BeautifulLies

 

Yes, the novel is as gorgeous as the cover.  Ethereal, impactful*, vintage and evocative.  The heroine, Maribel, is the vivacious wife of parliamentary representative Edward Campbell Lowe.  Himself a boisterous, outspoken politician, the two make an unforgettable pair, if an unlikely one.

Maribel employs her energies in photography, working to capture true images — something all too elusive in Victorian London.  She attempts to find some truth among the Native Americans that are in London with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show.  Ever the gracious host, William Cody is welcomes her into his massive encampment.

BillInLondonMap
The American Exhibition in London, 1887.

Maribel also make subjects of her dear friend, Charlotte, and unfortunate ruffians of London’s less affluent neighborhoods.  One of these photographs is smudged in such a way that spiritualist believe it to be an example of supernatural intervention.  Ever the realist, Maribel staunchly denies such a claim and refuses to allow its publication.

A Victorian era "spirit photograph."  Images were double-exposed for this effect, but because the medium was so new, most sitters were unaware of the trickery.
A Victorian era “spirit photograph.” Images were double-exposed for this effect, but because the medium was so new, most sitters were unaware of the trickery.

This is but one of Maribel’s struggles to uphold truth in a world so reliant upon appearances.  But Maribel hides a secret of her own.  As she tries to help her own husband succeed in Parliament, she risks peeling back the layers of her own beautiful lies.  In the midst of all of this, tabloid journalism is on the rise in London and a ruthless bloodhound of a newspaper man is on her scent.

The prose is honest and modern, despite the vintage setting.  Sentences roll and swirl and drip off the tongue.

The tea party was breaking up when the two women took their leave.  It was a warm evening, one of the first of the season and the moon floated like a pale wafer in the darkening sky.  Along the river the trees were ghostly with blossom.  ~Pg. 37

For years Ida had kept a picture of the saint [Joan of Arc] tucked inside her Bible so that she could look at it during the sermon on Sundays.  She said it was so that she would remember that being clever and fighting people was sometimes what God wanted you to do, even if you were a girl.  On the say that Ida did not want to be an elephant keeper when she grew up, she wanted to be a soldier-saint like Joan of Arc.  Sometimes they slipped out late at night, when the others were all asleep, creeping across the garden and into the woods beyond.  The woods were full of strange loud noises, foxes screaming and owls hooting and trees moving restlessly in the earth.  Maribel held Ida’s hand and told her it was essential for an actress to understand fear, but Ida was not afraid.  She turned cartwheels on the lawn, her nightgown a pale ghost in the darkness, and said that in the night the world was more exciting because you could not see where it ended.   ~Pg. 82

Maribel hoped that he was right.  More than that she hoped that there would be someone at Mr. Linnell’s graveside who knew what he had likes to do on a Sunday afternoon, that he had felt the cold and liked marmalade and knew how to whistle, that he had a way with dogs and had once ridden a bicycle without holding onto the handlebars.   ~Pg. 344

This novel is exceedingly well-written and very engrossing.  It clocks in at an even 500 pages, and easily could have devoured 500 more.

A great many thanks to Houghton Mifflin Harcourt for the review copy.

*I’ve just had a very intriguing conversation with @cliche_mist about my use of the word “impactful.”  I admit that I was doubtful when I wrote it and so I looked it up.  I did find it listed in Merriam-Webster’s dictionary.  Still, my learned friend contends that standard usage dictionaries often allow for slang and non-words to gain a foothold in the English language.  What are your thoughts?
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ISBN-13/ EAN: 9780151014675
ISBN-10: 0151014671
Price: $26
Format: Hardcover, 512 pages
Publication Date: 2012-09-18
Trim Size: 6 x 9

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REVIEW: JUNGLELAND by Christopher S. Stewart

book_jungleland-lg

Stewart’s travelogue is as addicting as the tales of the lost city itself.  A freelance writer from Brooklyn, Stewart heard about Ciudad Blanca during an interview with a US solider who had endured the Honduran jungle.  Like many who hear stories of far-flung secrets, Stewart was hooked.  He scoured satellite images from Google Earth, questioned anyone who is an expert in the field and even contacted relatives of explorer Theodore Ambrose Morde, who searched for the city swallowed by the Honduran jungle back in late 1939 and most of 1940.

In this book, Stewart juxtaposes his own travels and travails with Morde’s.  Morde kept a fairly consistent journal — though he maddeningly left out coordinates to the actual city — and with these constant comparisons one realizes just how little has changed in the past 70 years on the Mosquito Coast.  It is still miles and miles between villages, sometimes individual shacks.  It is a wonder that people live there at all.

Morde returned to America a hero, having claimed to have found a city that he would one day return to excavate and explore.  Then WWII began and he was recruited as a spy.  He never got back to the magical place in the jungle mist.  And he was always rather vague about what he saw.  So what was Cuidad Blanca?

For Stewart’s part, he embraces his own weaknesses and does nothing to gloss over his own fears and doubts in the maddening trek.  He is perfectly willing to share his own failings in his own journal of sorts.  At times the jungle puts him on the brink of madness; at others it offers a clarity in which he can see things perfectly for the first time.

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Photo by the author, Christopher S. Stewart

This is a detective story and an adventure in one.  Stewart tries to unravel Morde’s cryptic clues while survive days upon days of humid, rugged terrain, dangerous bandits, poisonous wildlife and mental struggles.

The legend of the “white city” hasn’t lost any attention either.  Just this summer, a piece was published about laser imagery finding the remains of the city.  It says a great deal about human nature, as does Stewart’s book.  The inkling inside each of us to explore and find “discover” something that was unknown, or lost — Atlantis, the Library of Alexandria, or the Holy Grail — and not just for wealth and fame.  To be the one who did it, who accomplished something considering impossible.

This is a fascinating read and it’s got me wanting to go dig up by backyard.  Just to see…

Thank you to HarperCollins for the review copy.
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ISBN: 9780061802546
ISBN10: 0061802549
Imprint: Harper
On Sale: 1/8/2013
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 6 x 9
Pages: 288; $27.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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A New Slate for A New Year

Occasionally I sift through the half-read books I have been sent to read and review.  These are the ones that didn’t get dragged around town with me, or passed along to a friend.  These are the ones that I kept by the bedside, promising myself I would go back to finish.  But I haven’t, for one reason or another.  Time is always one those poor excuses but there is something else.  I didn’t really try to make the time either.  Something about these books just didn’t grab me and demand that I devour them.  I can’t (and don’t) say that they are bad.  Maybe I just didn’t meet them at the right time in my life.   I always feel a bit blasphemous admitting that I didn’t “get into” a book, so I hope my readers will forgive me.

For that reason, I give them a fair but incomplete (and brief) look here, with my apologies.

ANGELMAKER by Nick Harkaway
angelmaker-nick-harkawayI think it was the sheer density of this one that got to me.  Complicated and intense, it requires complete concentration and good chunk of time to get into the steampunkish world that Harkaway is creating.  What I read, I liked, but I was slightly overwhelmed.  I plan to revisit it.

MR. FOX by Helen OyeyemiMr-Fox-Helen-Oyeyemi-Penguin
I made it past the halfway point with this one.  In this case, I felt left behind by some of the magical realism.  I’m a fairly astute reader but I was always feeling like a missed something — and not in the good way.  Oyeyemi has an interesting way of storytelling and readers who enjoy engaging multiple dimensions at once will enjoy.

Fakes-MB2

FAKES
An Anthology…

This is a collection of unusual short stories, really.  Each is a “fake” document.  These include a letter of complaint, an instruction manual, a works cited page, tweets from Chaucer and more.  While some are amusing and insightful, the books more often than not veers off into hipster-land (aka an Urban Outfitters). I read about three quarters of it, skimming the more lackluster items.

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READ-ALONG: THE PASSING BELLS by Phillip Rock

PassingBells

 

If you are as anxious for the series premiere of Downton Abbey as I am, then you know what it is to be captivated by good writing.

Fill those dreary hours, waiting for the return of the Grantham household and the Dowager Countess’s quips by joining the Passing Bells trilogy read-along, hosted by bookclubgirl.

6a00d8341c9ac653ef017c336e868e970b-800wi

 

And thank you to HarperCollins for the review copy so I can read along too!

 

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REVIEW: STRONG POISON by Dorothy L. Sayers

StrongPoisonCover

I’m ashamed to say this was the first Sayers novel I have read.  I can’t imagine why, other than I assumed them to be like Agatha Christie and there were already so many of hers to read.  And I don’t remember my childhood library having any of her books, (they may have) but there was a endless row of black-bound, gold-embossed Christie titles.  So with these rereleases I decided to turn a new leaf as well and include her mysteries.

Strong Poison is a Lord Peter Wimsey mystery, featuring Harriet Vane.  Based on her character it appears that there were more later.  Wimsey (as suggested by his name) is the kind of person who goes where the wind takes him.  As a friend of barristers and with a particular penchant for sitting in on trials, Wimsey takes it upon himself to solve a confusing case.  Harriet Vane, a crime novelist, has been accused of poisoning her fiancé, but Wimsey is unconvinced. While the trial is on hold, he investigates his hunches.

The author, Dorothy L. Sayers
The author, Dorothy L. Sayers

Wimsey and the tale are a blend of Nero Wolfe and Jeeves and Wooster.  In the heady of days of the Bright Young Things, where it seems nothing can touch the sparkling upper echelons of society, Lord Peter amuses himself among the working class.  His character at first seems selfish and flighty, but although he wants to occupy his time, he truly does believe in her innocence and wants to see her acquitted.

The prose is light and playful, and glides along over the marbled halls of justice and entryways of grand houses.  The dialogue, too, reflects this whimsical time.

“You don’t mean to say you admired her, Frank?”
“Oh, well, I dunno.  But she didn’t look to me like a murderess.”
“And how do you know what a murderess looks like?  Have you ever met one?”
“Well, I’ve seen them at Madame Tussaud’s.”
“Oh, wax-works.  Everybody looks like a murderer in a wax-works.”             ~Pg. 33

And no good detective is anywhere without his sidekick.  Lord Peter Wimsey has his invaluable valet, Mr. Bunter.

By what ingratiating means Mr. Bunter had contrived to turn the delivery of a note into the acceptance of an invitation to tea was best known only to himself.  At half-past four on the day which ended to cheerfully for Lord Peter, he was seated in the kitchen of Mr. Urquart’s house, toasting crumpets.  He had been trained to a great pitch of dexterity in the preparation of crumpets and if he was somewhat lavish is the matter of butter, that hurt nobody except Mr. Urquart.      ~Pg. 101

The book is jaunty and fast-paced.  Readers who enjoy quick, fluid cozies, should snuggle up with a cup of tea and give it a read.

Thank you so much to Regina at Bourbon Street Books / HarperCollins for the review copy.
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ISBN: 9780062196200
ISBN10: 0062196200
Imprint: Harper Paperbacks
On Sale: 10/16/2012
Format: Trade PB
Trimsize: 5 5/16 x 8
Pages: 288; $14.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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TINY REVIEW: TINY BOOK OF TINY STORIES, Vol. 2

The hijinks are back and the result is another heart-breaking and wonderful compilation of thoughts and images.  Hosted by HitRecord, artists and dreamers post bits of artistic ephemera.  The result is an open-source collaboration space.  People can grab, alter, add and repost, creating never-before-imagined works.

This book is a selection of the best of the best, chosen by Joseph Gordon-Levitt and “wirrow”, one of the collaborators.  The proceeds from the book are split 50/50 with the artists whose work appears.

As with the first volume, the book brings together witty observations and devastating truths.  The thoughts are somehow both very real and yet just beyond the reach of reality.

This is a fantastic gift, especially for those looking to support independent artists.

Many thanks to Joel for the review copy.
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ISBN: 9780062121639
ISBN10: 0062121634
Imprint: It Books
On Sale: 11/13/2012
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 4 1/2 x 6 1/2
Pages: 96; $14.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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THOUGHTS ON “LINCOLN” (2012)

Just about any film will have its strengths and weaknesses, but some of these I never expected from veteran Spielberg.

Its main strength lies in the acting.  Daniel Day-Lewis is, unsurprisingly, fantastic as Abraham Lincoln.  He humanizes the president that we are all too familiar with as a piece of money or a stone face on a mountain.

Day-Lewis as Lincoln

He shuffles his long, lanky legs uncomfortably, hunches his too-tall shoulders and bears his unmistakable fatigue with grace.  In some scenes it appeared that they gave him shirts with sleeves too short to make his hands and arms appear even longer.

In school we learn about Lincoln’s achievements and consider him to be a great man, but I came away from this actually liking Lincoln, as a person.  He was not without his faults, certainly, but he came by those faults honestly.

Another of the strong performances comes from David Strathairn, which is again not a surprise.  He is always a solid actor and he nails his role as Secretary Seward.  He looks uncommonly comfortable in a vest, cravat and brushed forward hair, like he walked out of a painting in the National Portrait Gallery.

Strathairn at right

Tommy Lee Jones clearly had way too much fun as the bombastic and insulting Thaddeus Stevens.  He let fly as the unapologetic Congressman, and the head of the Ways and Mean committee.  Indeed he steals every scene he is in, save one with Day-Lewis.

Much has been made of Sally Field and her insistence on being cast as Mary Todd Lincoln.  I don’t know who else had been considered but she does a fine job.  Mary is a complicated character both in real life and in this film and she deals with it nicely.

Sally Field and Tommy Lee Jones

Smaller roles for James Spader and Lee Pace are also well-cast and well-acted.  

Now for the weaker points.  If I had to put into one sentence:  This film does not seem like it was directed by Steven Spielberg.  Much of the camera work feels like a Ken Burns documentary.  Painfully slow zooms don’t constitute cinematography in my opinion and this movie is full of them.  There are occasional filmic string scenes but there are not enough.  Additionally, there are rookie mistakes.  For example, Lincoln and Grant sit on a porch after the South has surrendered.  They talk about their ideas for Reconstruction.  The shot is an exterior.  The sunlight is apparent and coming from behind the actors.  Yet there is very bright, very obvious light being shined on the actor’s faces.  This is not just ambient light — this is spotlights and reflectors.  In fact, it kind of makes the viewer’s brain hurt until you figure out what is going on.  

The writing is not strong either.  The best parts is the tight dialogue during the debates, both in the cabinet room and on the senate floor.  Unfortunately, much of the character dialogue is weak, or just passable.

And as much as I like Joseph Gordon-Levitt, his “storyline” was completely unnecessary and poorly presented.  He plays Robert, Lincoln’s eldest son who is insistent upon joining the Union forces.  The family strain is clearly evident without this subplot and his scenes just pull the viewer away from the driving force of the movie.  Time would have been better spent expanding the story on Gloria Reuben‘s character, Elizabeth Keckley.

Reuben as Keckley, with Sally Field

As unlikely as it sounds, it also seems like this film was the victim of the dreaded test audience.  The film should have ended with a strong shot of Lincoln walking down the hallway at the White House in silhouette.  The audience knows he is going to the theatre. It’s effective but subtle.  Instead, we have to watch 10 more minutes of stilted dialogue and really cheesy effects.  There is even a superimposition shot of a dead Lincoln in bed, surrounded by colleagues, over a gas lamp while they spout bad writing.

Unfortunately, this film is really just a History Channel special for classrooms, with better acting and some better sets.

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REVIEW: EXTRAORDINARY THEORY OF OBJECTS by Stephanie Lacava

I have a love/hate relationship with Paris.  Like many people, I expect, I had a romanticized notion of Paris, which I was quite aware was unreal.  But I still wanted to see the storied place of Latrec, Ilse Bing, Cocteau, Hugo, Doisneau, and Brassaï.  There must be something that drew them, inspired them all.

If there was, they took it with them.

Although there were certain things that we did that we enjoyed, as a city, a place, it was dreadful.  It was dirty, with rotting small animals left in public parks.  Every few years another agressive peddler tried to sell you the same cheap trinket.  The Metro was filthy and not well-run.  But I somehow managed to take stunning photos.  Maybe that is Paris’ spell.

I couldn’t help but think all this as I read Lacava’s fantastic memoir.  She was moved to France as a thirteen year old.  Already fragile, she is thrown into a new world, a new school, new country, new language.  One of her coping mechanisms is to collect random objects that are important to her.  No one seems to understand it, or her thought process, or even the inner pain she is experiencing.

Illustration from page 110.

The book is series of intertwined episodes during this confusing time.  Each essay shimmers along until the little asterisk signals a tangential explanation.  The footnotes sometimes last for three pages, dwarfing the “actual” text.  But this is the charm, and indeed, the strength of this memoir.  As the reader, we are given insight into how Lacava’s nonlinear thinking works.

Alone and unaccepted by other girls, I also loved biographies or fiction about alluring and iconoclastic women who would come to feel like real-life companions.  Reading was a Pascalian diversion; stories and facts were a distraction from spiraling thoughts.  I had always hated loudness.  It was loud enough in my head.

This mania extended to animals, people, and places — a city, even strangers in the street.  I had a game where I liked to imagine what sort of pajamas each passerby might wear.  This came from a belief that the more I know about the inner lives of others, the more I might understand the world.  Collecting information and talismans is a way of exercising magical control.  You can hold a lucky charm and known everything about nature’s creatures yet still be terribly lonely.  ~Pg. 3

In some ways, I think many young girls who are “different” but brilliant have these inner conversations and games.  It’s a way to exercise the mind without exposing themselves to ridicule.

Illustration from page 16.

Her writing is unflinching.  She is brutally honest about her self and her familial disappointments, but this is not a self-indulgent pity party.  This is insightful writing at its best — and it’s an extremely enjoyable read.

My sincere thanks to the folks at Harper for the advance review copy and for sending the images for me to inlcude.
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ISBN: 9780061963896
ISBN10: 0061963895
Imprint: Harper
On Sale: 12/4/2012
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 5 x 7 1/4
Pages: 224
$23.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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REVIEW: THE GRAND TOUR – AROUND THE WORLD WITH THE QUEEN OF MYSTERY by Agatha Christie

 

Perhaps it comes as no surprise that this book is a wonderful window into an era past.  Like Agatha Christie’s autobiography, the book is comprised of her life in her own words. Her grandson Mathew Prichard has painstakingly gathered her letters and postcards from her trip to a countries in the Dominion.  She and her (first) husband were invited to accompany a Mr. Bates, Major Blecher and the Hiam family as part of a special envoy.  They were acting as part of what was called the Dominion Mission of the British Empire Exhibition.

The exhibition itself was held in 1924-25 at Wembeley, which at the time, was the largest exhibition ever held.  This merry party set out ahead of the exhibition to visit the various countries that would be presenting.  Their stops included South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, Honolulu and Canada.   And a young, adventurous Agatha relished every moment of it.

She took a number of photographs (many of which have been printed in this book) as well as sending home letters and notes about her travels.  She also kept a diary of her exploits abroad.  These writings were well before those that would make her famous, but her sharp sense of humor is well in evidence.

Belcher is becoming very irritable.  I don’t wonder really for his leg and foot are quite bad, bursting out in new places.  The doctor says he must lie up and rest it, and he says he can’t afford the time.  Bates had forgotten to get him more carbolic, and he’d had a tight boot on all day, the food in the hotel was atrocious, and the doctor has cut hum down to one whiskey and soda a meal, so matters nearly reached a climax last night!  Also, he is getting very fed up with Major Featherston, who attaches himself to Belcher like a faithful dog, and comes up at all house of the day and night.   ~Pg. 64

And later, Agatha assists in a funny and harmless prank.

She also takes up surfing, something that isn’t the first thing you might think of in association with the writer of Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot.

Agatha and Ashby take up surfing.

Interspersed in all of this fun and adventure, there are insights into her personal life.  She left her young son at home in the capable hands of her nanny and her mother.  There are also glimpses of a certain level of discontent with her husband Archie.

Bates, Belcher, Archie & Agatha at a hot springs pool in Banff, Canada, near the end of the tour.

In addition to being of interest to literary fans, it is also an important record of the Golden Age of Travel and the reach of the British Empire between the wars.  The idea that one could leave home for more than a year, and spend a month or two in one place is a level of luxury that is rarely available any more, but was somewhat common then.  I’m not sure I will ever cease being fascinated with such a lifestyle.

In short, this book is a wonderful glimpse into the past, at one of the most prolific writer’s private life, and into the wit of a seemingly lovely lady.

Many thanks to the folks at HarperCollins for the review copy, and for sending images for inclusion in this post.
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ISBN: 9780062191225
ISBN10: 0062191225
Imprint: Harper
On Sale: 11/20/2012
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 7 x 9 1/8
Pages: 384; $29.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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REVIEW: THE ENTERTAINER by Margaret Talbot

Anyone who has read my blog knows that I am no stranger to classic film.   What with a Masters degree under my belt and an insatiable desire to fill up my DVR with obscure films playing on TCM, I’ve seen more than is probably healthy.  And I’m certain I’ve seen at least one with Lyle Talbot.

With this book, Margaret Talbot has not only chronicled her father’s early life, but also the childhood of American cinema.  Beginning with the roots of travelling buskers, then magic lanterns and early silents, we see this endlessly creative era though Lyle Talbot’s eyes.

The world that Lyle inhabited in his twenties and the country’s is a lost world — the world of traveling theater troupes and local repertory companies that, before the definitive arrival of mass entertainment, could still command people’s desires and imaginations.  Soon it would be overwhelmed, first by radio and movies, then by television.  But from the 1880s till the late 1920s, touring companies were what brought America its most reliable entertainment, what sparked, season after season and however creaky the machinations on stage, its sense of make-believe.

Giving happiness in this way could be an arduous business, though.  True, traveling actors of the 1910s and 1920s didn’t have it as hard as their predecessors in the nineteenth century.  Traveling players in the early nineteenth century had been men and women of Bunyanesque stamina: they almost had to be, just to cover as much ground as they did in the years before the railroad.  They trekked ahead on foot to post their one-sheet advertisements on rocks and trees; performed in barns, mills, stables, attics and hotel lobbies, for audiences perched in rough-hewn benches and logs, before footlights that might consist of tallow candles stuck into potatoes or beer kegs that had been nailed to the floor.  ~Pg. 90-1

With Carole Lombard in No More Orchids (1932)

Lyle it seems did a little bit of everything.  From working as an assistant for a carnival hypnotist’s to starring with 1930s starlets to being in Ed Wood’s infamous Plan 9 From Outer Space.  Also with James Cagney, Bette Davis and Olivia de Havilland, he fought for actor’s rights and helped to co-found SAG.

In many ways, daughter Margaret was a lucky biographer.  Lyle loved telling stories about his decades in show business.  And there is plenty of archival material to pull from. Still, there is always a level of separation between generations.  Only our imaginations can try to realize what that era must have been like.  But the author does a fabulous job getting us there.

Talbot as Commissioner Gordon in Batman and Robin serial from 1949

As a reader, I think any sort of memoir is a terribly brave thing to tackle, but even more so when it is a dear family member.  You are bound to uncover things you never knew or actions you can’t understand.  It is unnerving to recall that all parents had a life before you arrived.  This, too, Margaret does with grace.  She doesn’t sugar-coat anything but neither does she vilify or write-off Lyle’s shortcomings.  And he is a much more real person to us, the readers.

Here she recalls some of his philosophy while writing about his final years:

I guess we had all come to cherish the old pro in him, the instincts of the workhorse actor, the ability to get out there and turn on the brights for the audience.  My father didn’t talk much about the philosophy of acting, except to say that he didn’t believe in Method acting.  He didn’t believe you should try to lose yourself in a role, merge your identity with it, access your own buried emotion.  You always had to remember you were acting; you could get emotional, but you had to maintain control.  If he had a credo, it was a credo of entertaining. You owed something to the people who came to see you.  You did a job for them.  You kept working for as long as you could, with as much love as you could muster.  That didn’t make him the best actor, and it didn’t make him a star, but it made him a lifelong working actor, a man who raised a family without ever working at anything he cared for less than he did for acting.  ~Pg. 400

I truly enjoyed reading this book.  Margaret Talbot’s telling of her father’s life is nostalgic but not sentimental.  And it’s a truly American story — A Midwestern, bootstrap, just keep trying kind of story.  Furthermore, it’s a reminder to the younger generations, to ask their parents and grandparents for stories.  You may not have a film star in the family, but their story is important too.

Thank you to the folks at Riverhead for the review copy.
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ISBN 9781594487064
432 pages
Hardcover
$28.95
08 Nov 2012
Riverhead
9.25 x 6.25in
18 – AND UP

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REVIEW: GOODBYE TO BERLIN by Christopher Isherwood

I had the great fortune to see Caberet at Studio 54 in NYC about 10 years ago.  I also had the great fortune to not have known very much about it.  The impact of the show was overwhelming.   Years later, I began my work in a cinema studies masters program and I learned about Ufa and Weimar cinema.

There is something about that era — the unknown, the desperation, the incredible talent and angsty verve — that is fascinating.

UFA studio lot

What surprised me in reading this book was Isherwood’s prose style.  It is wonderfully balanced.  It is nostalgic but not saccharine.  It is an unflinching look at the crumbling façade in pre-war (WW2) Germany.  And it is filled with dramatic characters, most famously Sally Bowles.  She is a almost like an ex-pat version of Daisy Buchanan, but deeper — and I find, more sympathetic.

But beyond her is the fierce but often funny Frl. Schroeder.  In fact, I found the landlady to almost act as a Greek chorus for the reader.  She often pipes in with witty comments and sage observations.

But perhaps the most vivid character is Berlin itself.

The extraordinary smell in this room when the stove is lighted and the window shut; not altogether unpleasant, a mixture of incense and stale buns.  The tall tiled stove, gorgeously coloured, like an altar.  The washstand like a Gothic shrine.  The cupboard is also Gothic, with carved cathedral windows: Bismarck faces the King of Prussia in stained glass.  My best chair would do for a bishop’s throne.  In the corner three sham medieval halberds (from a theatrical touring company?) are fastened together to form a hatstand.  Frl. Schroeder unscrews the heads of the halberds and polishes them from time to time.  They are heavy and sharp enough to kill.

Everything in the room is like that: unnecessarily solid, abnormally heavy, and dangerously sharp.  Here, at the writing-table, I am confronted by a phalanx of metal objects — a pair of candlesticks shaped like entwined serpents, an ashtray from which emerges the head of a crocodile, a paperknife copied from a Florentine dagger, a brass dolphin holding on the end of its tail a small broken clock.   ~Pg. 4

And the home of one of the narrator’s English students sounds like something out of Metropolis:

The hall of the Bernsteins’ house has metal-studded doors and a steamer clock fastened to the wall with bolt-heads.  There are modernist lamps, designed to look like pressure-gauges, thermometers, and switchboard dials.  But the furniture doesn’t match the house and its fittings.  The place is like a power station with the engineers have tried to make comfortable with chairs and tables from an old-fashioned, highly respectable boarding house.  On the austere metal walls hang highly varnished nineteenth-century landscapes in massive gold frames.   ~Pg. 16

The book is like an impressionist’s painting.  These small sketches are linked together to make a hauntingly beautiful portrait of a heady era in Berlin.

Many thanks to the folks with New Directions for the review copy.
____________________________
Publication Date: September 27, 2012
Paperback $ 15.95
224 pages
ISBN 9780811220248

 

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 30

Halloween is about staring down that which scares us, by facing it head on and making light of it.  At least in part.

There are common fears of things like the dark, spiders, ghosts or the unknown.  But there are some fears that are less common, less rational.

Amaxophobia – Fear of riding in a car. (To be fair, the idea of riding in a car with Mr. Pumpkinhead is actually rather unnerving.)

Chionophobia – Fear of snow.

Genuphobia – Fear of knees.

Phobophobia – Fear of phobias.

Porphyrophobia – Fear of the color purple.

Athazagoraphobia – Fear of being forgotten.

Koinoniphobia – Fear of rooms.

Podophobia – Fear of feet.

Catoptrophobia – Fear of mirrors.

I hate riding in elevators.  Do you have any unusual fears?

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REVIEW: OBJECT LESSONS – Stories from the Paris Review

Let me start by saying that this is not your typical collection.  It is not a juried contest or an annual anthology, edited by an acclaimed professor.  This is about writers, and what speaks to them.

Pulled from the archives of The Paris Review, writers of today gush, er, introduce each selection.  The intros range from fan letters to analysis.

As Jeffrey Eugenides writes in his introduction to Denis Johnson’s story:

A short story must be, by definition, short.  That’s the trouble with short stories.  That’s why they’re so difficult to write.  How do you keep a narrative brief and still have it function as a story?  Compared to writing novels, writing short fiction is mainly a question of knowing what to leave out.  What you leave in must imply everything that’s missing.  ~Pg. 96

The stories in this book range in length, style, tone, narrator and era.   You can skip around, like I did, looking for the story that suits your mood.  What doesn’t vary is the literary quality — the sort we’ve all come to expect from the editors of The Paris Review.

The book includes stories by the following:

Daniel Alarcón · Donald Barthelme · Ann Beattie · David Bezmozgis · Jorge Luis Borges · Jane Bowles · Ethan Canin · Raymond Carver · Evan S. Connell · Bernard Cooper · Guy Davenport · Lydia Davis · Dave Eggers · Jeffrey Eugenides · Mary Gaitskill · Thomas Glynn · Aleksandar Hemon · Amy Hempel · Mary-Beth Hughes · Denis Johnson · Jonathan Lethem · Sam Lipsyte · Ben Marcus · David Means · Leonard Michaels · Steven Millhauser · Lorrie Moore · Craig Nova · Daniel Orozco · Mary Robison · Norman Rush · James Salter · Mona Simpson · Ali Smith · Wells Tower · Dallas Wiebe · Joy Williams

Many thanks to the folks at Picador for the review copy.
__________________________________

Picador
October 2012
Trade Paperback
ISBN: 9781250005984
ISBN10: 1250005981
Rough Front/Deckel Edge
5 1/2 x 8 1/4 inches, 368 pages

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 28

Ghost stories have been popular for centuries.  In a literary sense, these tales often have a moral component.  A warning from past offenses to future generations.

One of the most ancient references to a haunted house comes from the Arabian Nights.

‘To whom doth the big house belong?’

‘To us!’

‘Open it, that I may view it.’

‘Thou hast no business there.’

‘Wherefore?’

‘Because it is haunted, and none nighteth there but in the morning he is a dead man; nor do we use to open the door, when removing the corpse, but mount the terrace-roof of one of
the other two houses and take it up thence.  For this reason my master hath abandoned the house and saith: ‘I will never again
give it to any one.’ ‘

Open it,’ I cried, ‘that I may view it;’ and I said in my mind, ‘This is what I seek; I will pass the night there and in the morning be a dead man and be at peace from this my case.’

So he opened it and I entered and found it a splendid house, without its like.

I won’t tell you what happens after that, but the ghosts have a story to tell.  What’s your favorite ghost story?

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 26

Many people enjoy watching scary movies to celebrate Halloween.  Some like gory slasher flicks, but I prefer creepy, moody, psychological films.

Some of the best are by RKO producer and writer Val Lewton (many of them directed by Jacques Tourneur).  They usually run them on TCM this time of year, so keep an eye out — or look for them on Netflix.

Yes, these posters make them look like low budget, B-movies (and they are) but they are actually thoughtful, well-made pictures.

Have you seen any of these?  What are your favorite Halloween movies?

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 25

From Ruth Edna Kelley’s The Book of Halloween, a description of a Victorian Halloween:

In 1874, at Balmoral, a royal celebration of Hallowe’en was recorded. Royalty, tenants, and servants bore torches through the grounds and round the estates. In front of the castle was a heap of stuff saved for the occasion. The torches were thrown on. When the fire was burning its liveliest, a hobgoblin appeared, drawing in a car the figure of a witch, surrounded by fairies carrying lances. The people formed a circle about the fire, and the witch was tossed in. Then there were dances to the music of bag-pipes.  - from Chapter VIII

And from the London Times:

“Halloween at Balmoral Castle. – This time-honoured festival was duly celebrated at Balmoral Castle on Saturday evening in a manner not soon to be forgotten by those who took part in its enjoyments.

“As the shades of evening were closing in upon the Strath, numbers of torch-lights were observed approaching the Castle, both from the cottages on the eastern portion of the estate and also those on the west. The torches from the western side were probably the more numerous, and as the different groups gathered together the effect was very fine. Both parties met in front of the Castle, the torch-bearers numbering nearly 100.

“Along with those bearing the torches were a great many people belonging to the neighbourhood. Dancing was commenced by the torch-bearers dancing a “Hulachau” in fine style to the lilting strains of Mr. Ross, the Queen’s Piper. The effect was greatly heightened by the display of bright lights of various colours from the top of the staircase of the tower. After dancing for some time the torch-bearers proceeded round the Castle in martial order, and as they were proceeding down the granite staircase at the north-west corner of the Castle the procession presented a singularly beautiful and romantic appearance.

“Having made the circuit of the Castle, the remainder of the torches were thrown in a pile at the south-west corner, thus forming a large bonfire, which was speedily augmented with other combustibles until it formed a burning mass of huge proportions, round which dancing was spiritedly carried on. The scene at this juncture was one to be long remembered by those who witnessed it. The flames of the bonfire shot up to an immense height, illuminating the Castle wall with a ruddy glare, while the figures of the dancers in their agile and grotesque movements were shown to great advantage.

“Her Majesty witnessed the proceedings with apparent interest for some time, and the company enjoyed themselves none the less heartily on that account.”

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REVIEW: LUCKY JIM by Kingsley Amis

Despite my penchant for British literature, I must admit that this was my first foray into Amis.  A complicated person in his own life, he seems to have attempted to shed some of his anxieties on his characters.  Indeed, the title character James Dixon is dissatisfied professor of medievalism.  He was surely drawing on some of his own teachers while at Oxford, no doubt sometimes unhappy in their own situation.

Despite this, the reader finds James Dixon trying to meet the requirements to survive his trial year and achieve tenure at the regional and unacclaimed university.  He must navigate the elite company he finds himself among, including a vapid boss and an emotionally irresponsible squeeze, all the while searching out the nearest place to get a few pints.

Amis’ writing has been compared to Wodehouse and Waugh, but that doesn’t quite describe it.  Lucky Jim is denser and less accessible than Wodehouse.  Amis’ characters are darker and disturbed.  And Waugh had a eviscerating tone that accompanied his angsty young people.  Here Amis finds humor in middle aged pretension.  And it often is uncomfortably funny.

Dixon ran his eye along the lines of black dots, which seemed to go up and down a good deal, and was able to assure himself that everyone was going to have to sing all the time.  He’d had a bad setback twenty minutes ago in some Brahms rubbish which began ten seconds or so of unsupported tenor — more accurately, of unsupported Goldsmith, who’d twice dried up in face of a tricky interval and left him opening and shutting his mouth in silence.  He now cautiously reproduced the note Goldsmith was humming and found the the effect pleasing rather than the reverse.   ~Pg. 36

There is a certain defeatism, a begrudging acceptance, that life doesn’t always turn out as one planned.  And even if it had, it’s not at all what your youth had imagined it.

‘What work do you do?’ Dixon asked flatly.

‘I am a painter.  Not, alas, a painter of houses, or I should have been able to make my pile and retire by now.  No no; I paint pictures.  Not, alas again, pictures of trade unionists or town halls or naked women, or I should now be squatting on an even larger pile.  No no; just pictures, mere pictures, pictures tout court, or, as our American cousins would say, pictures period.  And what work do you do? always provided, of course, that I have permission to ask.’  ~Pg. 38

Lucky Jim is amusing for those who enjoy dark humor with a healthy dose of absurd realism.

Many thanks to the folks at New York Review of Books for the review copy.
_____________________________

FORMAT: Paperback
PUBLICATION DATE: October 2, 2012
PAGES: 296
ISBN: 9781590175750
SERIES: NYRB Classics
CATEGORIES: Literature in English

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 23

Halloween was often a time for fortune telling and silly games.  A 1929 Halloween party book outlined some games to play.  This is one I had never heard of and was suggested for school:

Each child is told to make a wish. She is then blindfolded and told to turn around several times. She must stand perfectly still while the bandage is removed from her eyes. If she sees the moon (on the blackboard) over her left shoulder, her wish will come true. If she sees it over her right shoulder, her wish will not come true. If she sees it directly in front of her, she will receive a gift. If her back is turned to the moon, she will live to be very old. If there are many children, let several of them be blindfolded at one time, for they simply adore this game and will want to play it several times.
From 1929 Party Book

And this one for parties:

Use a large dish with an equal amount of dried corn and beans. Empty it on the floor and the guests are to grab as much as they can, but boys gather the corn and girls only gather the beans. The one with the most wins, but 5 points are deducted for each wrong kernel or bean.
Dennison’s Party Magazine, October-November 1927

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 22

 

According to Ruth Edna Kelley:

The actions of cats on Hallowe’en betoken good or bad luck. If a cat sits quietly beside any one, he will enjoy a peaceful, prosperous life; if one rubs against him, it brings good luck, doubly good if one jumps into his lap. If a cat yawns near you on Hallowe’en, be alert and do not let opportunity slip by you. If a cat runs from you, you have a secret which will be revealed in seven days.  - from chapter XV

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REVIEW: NOT MY BAG by Sina Grace

I am almost embarrassed to admit that this the first time I have read a graphic novel.  Not out of any sense of superiority — quite the opposite.  I’d admired them from afar but always thought they were for people much more hip than me.  That and there is just so much reading to be done that one has to narrow it down somehow.  But when I read a recommendation of this book, I decided to break the cycle.

The narrator and hero is a genuinely eager, if naive, young man whose love of style leads him to a job in upscale retail.  He learns the art of convincing customers to buy and of setting displays, and realizes he is good at it.  Unfortunately that means other sellers on the floor see him as a threat.  Meanwhile, he has put his personal life on hold.  He is simply skating by in a comfortable but meaningless relationship, ignoring his talent and suppressing the ghosts of his past.  He thinks he can sweep it all away if he can just succeed in the world of garment retail.

Anyone who has ever worked in any sort of corporate setting will recognize the absurdity of it all.  The head honchos that seduce with promises of commission, promotions, better floor position.  They get you hooked.  Sina grace presents all of this with a dry humor.  in fact the early pages were reminiscent of David Sedaris’ Santaland Diaries.

In the end, it’s a stark reminder to us all to steer clear of the machine, lest we get caught up in its gears.

Many thank to the folks at Image Comics for the review copy.
__________________________

Price: $12.99
Diamond ID: AUG120476
On Sale: October 17, 2012

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 21

For some, the best part of Halloween is all the free candy.  And there is a lot of it.

90 million pounds of chocolate are sold for Halloween — more than twice the amount sold at Valentine’s Day.  Over 20 million pounds of that is just candy corn!  The tri-colored chewy confection was invented in 1898 by the Herman Goelitz Confectionary Company of Fairfield, CA.

According to the National Confectioners Association, more than 35 million pounds of candy corn will be produced this year. That equates to nearly 9 billion pieces—enough to circle the moon nearly 21 times if laid end-to-end.  They also conducted this amusing survey:

Among adults,

  • Four-in-ten (41%) adults admit that they sneak sweets from their own candy bowl.
  • On Halloween night, the majority (52%) of those providing treats to costumed kiddies will be passing out chocolate, while three‐in‐ten will drop hard candy or lollipops into the sacks.
  • 62% of adults will be handing out candy because “it’s a personal favorite” or it’s a household tradition (55%)
  • 43% of grown-up celebrants cite costumes as one of the most indispensable parts of the holiday.
  • About 26% of households will include full-size candy (chocolate and non-chocolate) in their Halloween activities.
  • 90% of parents admit to sneaking goodies from their kids’ Halloween trick-or-treat bags.
  • Parents favorite treats to sneak from their kids’ trick-or-treat bags are snack-size chocolate bars (70 percent sneak these), candy-coated chocolate pieces (40 percent), caramels (37 percent) and gum (26 percent).
  • Parents least favorite goodie to take from their kids’ trick-or-treat bags is licorice (18 percent).

Among kids,

  • 30% of kids report that they SORT their candy first when returning home with trick-or-treat loot, others:
    • Savor it (20%)
    • Share it (16%)
    • Stash it (14%)
    • Swap it (7%)
  • Kids say they prefer homes that give: anything made with chocolate (68%) followed by lollipops (9%), gummy candy (7%) and bubble gum or chewing gum (7%)
  • More than 93% of children go trick-or-treating each year.
  • Kids tell us that their favorite treats to receive when trick-or-treating are candy and gum. Eighty-four percent of kids said candy and gum are their favorites over other options like baked goods or small toys.
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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 20

In 1919 Ruth Edna Kelley published The Book of Halloween.  Here she describes a game of “snap-apple”:

A variation of the Irish snap-apple is a hoop hung by strings from the ceiling, round which at intervals are placed bread, apples, cakes, peppers, candies, and candles. The strings are twisted, then let go, and as the hoop revolves, each may step up and get a bite from whatever comes to him. By the taste he determines what the character of his married life will be,–whether wholesome, acid, soft, fiery, or sweet. Whoever bites the candle is twice unfortunate, for he must pay a forfeit too. An apple and a bag of flour are placed on the ends of a stick, and whoever dares to seize a mouthful of apple must risk being blinded by flour. Apples are suspended one to a string in a doorway. As they swing, each guest tries to secure his apple. To blow out a candle as it revolves on a stick requires attention and accuracy of aim.   – from Chapter XV

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 19

This appears to be the earliest recorded instance of trick-or-treating (as we know it) in North America:

“The old time custom of keeping up Hallowe’en was not forgotten last night by the youngsters of the city,” reported the Kingston, Ontario Daily News  in 1866.  ”They had their maskings and their marry-makings, and perambulated the streets after dark in a way which no doubt was mightily amusing to themselves.  There was a great sacrifice of pumpkins from which to make transparent heads and face, lighted up by the unfailing two inches of tallow candle.”

from Halloween: From Pagan Ritual to Party Night By Nicholas Rogers

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 18

Time to show you some more photos of the cemeteries we explored on our honeymoon.  There photos were taken at Pere Lachaise, the very famous burying ground in Paris.  It is where such famous people as Jim Morrison, Chopin, and Oscar Wilde.  It is also a beautiful place to wander around.

Have you been to a famous gravesite?  Where was it?

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REVIEW: YOUR HOUSE IS ON FIRE, YOUR CHILDREN ALL GONE by Stefan Kiesbye

This book nearly defies description, but here goes.

The novel is a spider web of small tales, each with an allegorical twist.  Somewhere vaguely Germanic, or possibly in eastern European, is the small town of Hemmersmoor.  These people live a simple, happy life.  There are still stores on the main street – bakeries, hardware stores and sundry shops.  Time is also a shimmering mist over the town.  There are mentions of trucks and a war, but nothing about telephones or television.

“Hemmersmoor” translates as “inhibitor’s moor”, and it’s an atmospheric place.

A few years back, a fire destroyed was left of Otto Nubis’s workshop.  What lay beyond the factory, outside our village, we all have dutifully forgotten.  The country is trying to open a museum there, but who is going to buy our paintings and clay souvenirs if their plan is successful?  The villagers are shaking their heads.  Why should we have to suffer against?  We had nothing to do with it.

Time is of no importance.  I was young and didn’t know a thing about our time.  There had never been a different one in Hemmersmoor.  In our village time didn’t progress courageously.  In our village she limped a bit, got lost more than once, and always ended up at Frick’s bar and in one of Jens Jensen’s tall tales.     ~ Pg. 4

The book has been compared to stories by Shirley Jackson, Rod Serling, and Susan Hill.  But that somehow doesn’t quite encompass it.  Imagine if Garrison Keillor wrote the stories of Lake Woebegon but he was completely creepy.  Various town citizens’ stories intertwine and overlap, with the youth pulling all the strings.

These young people represent an angst-ridden, floundering generation, with too much energy and not enough direction.  When they are left to their own devices, their bizarre things begin to happen.  Nine ghosts haunt a defeated woman, a carnival steals souls, and a bet turns deadly.

The motive rides a fine line between an evil, supernatural force and bizarre happenstance.  There is no force, no arch villain — only a unseen, creeping unease.

Kiesbye’s style is refreshing, succinct and terse.  Yet without any flowery language, Kiesbye draws an eerie and vivid picture.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and I was greatly impressed with his storytelling ability.

Many thanks to the folks at Penguin for the review copy.

__________________________
ISBN 9780143121466
208 pages
25 Sep 2012
Penguin
8.26 x 5.23in
18 – AND UP

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Conan Doyle Interview, via The Paris Review

I saw this clip about a year ago while visiting Edinburgh.  I went to a fantastic exhibit at the Surgeon’s Hall Museum that was on Dr. Bell and his student Doyle.  It was wonderful and fascinating.  I’m so glad The Paris Review found and posted it.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Speaks

“It was only in the time of the war when all these splendid young fellows were disappearing from our view and the whole world was saying, ‘Well,what’s become of them … Where are they … what are they doing now … have they dissipated into nothing … are they still the grand fellows that we used to know … it was only at that time that I realized the importance to the human race of knowing more about this matter.” A 1927 interview with author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, including his work in spiritualism. via The Paris Review.

 

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 17

I moved quite a bit when I was younger, but during those years we often lived in New England.  As a kid it was easy to imagine that Halloween was invented in New England.  It just seems so suited for it.  Old cemeteries, tall, reaching trees with with rattling leaves, and creeping darkness that starts in early evening.  The smell of fireplaces and apple cider fill the crisp air.

There may be no more quintessential scary New England story than the Salem Witch Trials.

In the summer of 1692 mass hysteria and accusations flew through colonial Massachusetts.  We learned about this in school, and read The Crucible in high school.  What I wish we had studied was the possible causes of the bizarre chapter in American history.

Print via Son of the South

Looking at it now, with the benefit of 300 years of hindsight, it is clear there was no supernatural aspect of it.  But what did those two girls see?  Why were they having seizures?  How did the event snowball to that level of madness?

 I’ve read two interesting theories.  One suggests that the girls ate or were exposed to ergot

…fungus ergot, which can be found in rye, wheat and other cereal grasses. Toxicologists say that eating ergot-contaminated foods can lead to muscle spasms, vomiting, delusions and hallucinations. Also, the fungus thrives in warm and damp climates—not too unlike the swampy meadows in Salem Village, where rye was the staple grain during the spring and summer months.  Read more: http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history-archaeology/brief-salem.html#ixzz29CbtCsK8

The second idea has to do with the subsequent accusatations more than the initial incident.  Two tavern owners were competing for the same business and one accused the other in order to clear the way, so to speak.

As Christine Sismondo writes in America Walks Into A Bar:

However, we can find ample anti-Parris activity going on at Bishop’s tavern, owned by Sarah and Edward Bishop, in ad-dition to the merry-making and shovel-boarding. This popular house of entertainment was rather conveniently located on Ipswich Road, smack-dab in the middle of that arduous commute between the rural farmingarea of Salem Village and the meeting-house in Salem Town. The Bishops weren’t the only entrepreneurs to figure out that Ipswich Road was prime real estate. There were several taverns on this major thoroughfare, from the very north end of the road, where the Bishops, Joshua Rea, and Walter Phillips had hung out shingles, all the way to thesouthern tip and hostler John Proctor. All were Putnam enemies, all had signed a petition opposing the installation of Samuel Parris, most were opposed to the witch trials, and many  were later accused.   ~Pg. 51

What do you think of these ideas?  Do you have a theory?

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 15

Ok, we are half way through the 31 Days of Halloween, so I’d say it’s time for a post on the American epitome of the macabre.

We’ll get to the creepy stuff, but did you know these things about him?

  • Poe was a respected, if fearsome, literary critic.
  • Within the Allan home, he was part of the upper crust of Richmond society.
  • After the publication of The Raven, he became a household name and was a popular lecturer.
  • Poe enrolled as a cadet at West Point.
  • He attended grammar school in Scotland and in London.
  • The impressionist painter Manet illustrated a printing of The Raven.

In fact he wasn’t always the gaunt, disheveled recluse.  This is a small portrait of a young Poe.

And 200 years after his birth (he lived to be just 40), we are still obsessed with him — and his stories and poems.  They encompass a disintegrating house (and sanity), the murder of a vulture-eyed man, a rational detective, a buried treasure, a vengeful party guest, a portrait with a horrifying story, and a lost love.

When you look at it in a list like that, it is little wonder he has become iconic both in academia and in popular culture.  A number of Poe’s homes have been saved; one in Philadelphia is part of the National Park Service.

Poe’s wry smile graces everything from iPhone cases, hipster memes, and a fantastic app called iPoe.  There is an NFL team named for one of his poems.  When was the last time football met poetry?  There are t-shirts for you to wear and here you can put a Poe on just about anything.

So here’s to Poe, and Halloween, and being scared by stories that inflame our imagination.  And remember, ”They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 14

That picture of Bela Lugosi in the 1931 film Dracula has the become the popular image of the blood-sucking creature.  It’s loosely based on the bestselling novel by Bram Stoker, but there are numerous differences.

It has inspired a number of adaptations over the years, but none of them have followed the book closely.

Have you read the book?  What did you think?  Which is your favorite of the movies?

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 12

One of the scary movies I remember watching as a kid was the Legend of Sleepy Hollow.  This was in the 80s, so it was the Disney version, starring Jeff Goldblum.  It looks silly now but at the time it fascinated me.  Not to mention I lived in New England so it looked kind of like Tarrytown all around me.

Arthur Rackham, best known for his drawings of Peter Pan, illustrated The Legend of Sleepy Hollow as well.

I’m fascinated by the inclusion of German folklore in colonial America, playing on the fears of local residents.

Did you watch scary movies as a child?  Or stay up too late reading a scary book?

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GIVEAWAY: YOUR HOUSE IS ON FIRE, YOUR CHILDREN ALL GONE

Just in time for Halloween, the kind folks at Penguin have sent me a giveaway copy of the new creepy book by Stefan Kiesbye, author of Next Door Lived A Girl.

Here is what others are saying:

“Creepy in a way that actually made me quite nervous.” —Ben Loory, author of Stories for Nighttime and Some for the Day

“With a chilling twist here and there, a sly, stark wit, and a fascinating cast of lost boys and girls, Your House Is on Fire, Your Children All Gone is part nostalgia trip and part horror show, as honest and heartfelt as The Virgin Suicides in its portrait of adolescent yearning, anxieties, and heartbreak.” —Timothy Schaffert, author of The Coffins of Little Hope

“Full of dark folk magic and frightful, lurid wonder. It casts a spell, winking all the way through every grim detail and shadowy secret.” —Paul Elwork, author of The Girl Who Would Speak for the Dead

So, you want to read it now, right?  Well you can win a copy right here.  It’s pretty easy.

1.  In the comments below, leave your name (just your first is fine), email (name [at] domain [dot] com to prevent spam).

2. In the comments below, tell me your favorite thing about Halloween.

3. Post on Twitter or Facebook about this giveaway.

4.  Have a US mailing address.

That’s it!  I will select a winner randomly.  The contest is open until Thursday, October 18 at 5:00 p.m. EST.  Good luck — and Happy Halloween!

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 11

The Victorians, possibly because of their concern about propriety, had numerous superstitions about death and funerals.  These were compiled by Victorians: The Superstistious, The Paranormal and The Insane.

  • If the deceased has lived a good life, flowers would bloom on his grave; but if he has been evil, only weeds would grow.
  • If several deaths occur in the same family, tie a black ribbon to everything left alive that enters the house, even dogs & chickens. This will protect them against deaths spreading further.
  • Never wear anything new to a funeral, especially shoes.
  • You should always cover your mouth while yawning so your spirit doesn’t leave you and the devil never enters your body.
  • It is bad luck to meet a funeral procession head on. If you see one approaching, turn around. It this is unavoidable, hold on to a button until the funeral cortege passes.
  • Large drops of rain warn that there has been a death.
  • Stop the clock in a death room or you will have bad luck.

  • To lock the door of your home after a funeral procession has left the house is bad luck.
  • If you hear a clap of thunder following a burial it indicates that the soul of the departed has reached heaven.
  • If you hear 3 knocks and no one is there, it usually means someone close to you has died. (The superstitious call this the 3 knocks of death.)
  • If you leave something that belongs to you to the deceased, that means to the person will come back to get you.
  • If a firefly/lightening bug get into your house someone will die soon.
  • If you smell roses when none are around someone is going to die.
  • If you don’t hold your breath while going by a graveyard you will not be buried.
  • If you see yourself in a dream, your death will follow.
  • If you see an owl in the daytime, there will be death.
  • If you dream about a birth, someone you know will die.
  •  If it rains in an open grave then someone in the family will die within the year.
  • If a bird pecks on your window or crashes into one, there has been a death.
  • If a sparrow lands on a piano, someone in the home will die.
  • If a picture falls off a wall, there will be a death of someone you know.
  • Never speak ill of the dead because they will come back to haunt you or you will suffer misfortune.
  • Two deaths in the family mean that a third is to follow.
  • The cry of a curlew or the hoot of an owl foretells death.

  • A single snowdrop growing in the garden foretells a death.
  • Having only red & white flowers together in a vase (especially in a hospital) means a death will soon follow.
  • Dropping an umbrella on the floor or opening one in the house means that there will be a murder in the house.
  • A diamond-shaped fold in clean linen portends death.
  • A dog howling at night when someone in the house is sick is a bad omen. It can be reversed by reaching under the bed & turning over a shoe.

It seems like they had a superstition for everything!

Are there any that you follow?


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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 10

Some people believe that Halloween is one night a year when the spirits can come back to  wander among the living.  So it would only follow that it is the best night to have a seance to try to contact the spirits.

Houdini, who spent years debunking false mediums, died on Halloween night.  he promised his wife that if he could come back he would contact her with a secret phrase.  Bess held vigil for ten years each year but she never heard from Harry.

Have you ever been to a fortune teller?  Hand your palms read or your tarot reading?  Or have you attended a seance?

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REVIEW: THE CUTTING SEASON by Attica Locke


Caren Gray has returned to her knotted, complicated roots ont he plantation of Belle Vie.    Generations of her family have lived on this land, some under the heavy oppression of slavery.  Now Caren is the caretaker and manager of the estate that is no loner inhabited. It is rented for parties and weddings and other events — a ghost of its former self.  The neighboring farm still grows and harvests sugarcane, but now migrant labor works the farm.  Early one chilly morning Caren finds a female body half-buried along the fence line.  Caren begins to conduct her own investigation, alongside the official one, to uncover even more secrets hidden by Belle Vie.

The novel deftly wanders through Caren’s past — her childhood at Belle Vie, her broken heart — present — her precocious daughter, her fierce commitment to the plantation — and future — what will become of the place she has fought to preserve.  Embedded into this background is a Southern murder mystery.

Author Attica Locke

Locke lays out a well-paced, complex and layered story without it feeling forced.  Racism and slavery are not glossed over but neither do they overwhelm the story.  Instead they act as a filter that sometimes blurs the edges of the truth.  Locke’s prose is at once accessible and beautiful:

A reminder, really , that Belle Vie, its beauty, was not to be trusted.

That beneath its loamy topsoil, the manicured grounds and gardens, two centuries of breathtaking wealth and spectacle — a stark beauty both irrepressible and utterly incapable of even the smallest nod of contrition — lay a land both black and bitter, soft to the touch, but pressing in its power.  She should have known that one day it would spit out what it no longer has use for, the secrets it would no longer keep.  ~Pg. 4

She also has an occasional zing of wicked humor.

The guest chairs in his office matched the carpet, which matched the buttered-beige color of the walls.  The décor was attractive and strong, but blander than she would have thought his wealth and position afforded him.  Caren couldn’t see the point of having that much money if all of it led to beige.  ~Pg. 133

I look forward to reading more by Attica Locke.  She seems like an author who still has a great deal to say.  And she says it well.  She has an uncanny ability to point out inequity without pointing fingers.  The blame is obvious within the context and her wisdom is enough to make her point clear.

Readers who enjoy modern murder mysteries, with a hint of history, should certainly check out The Cutting Season.

Many thanks to the folks at Harper for the review copy.
__________________________________

ISBN: 9780061802058
ISBN10: 0061802050
Imprint: Harper
On Sale: 9/18/2012
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 6 x 9
Pages: 384
$25.99; Ages: 18 and Up

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 7

Early photography coincided (perhaps not coincidentally) with a spike in spiritualism, mediums and magic.  Because the common person did not understand the mechanics of photography, it was relatively easy to trick them with photographs — something that could only show reality.

The Perfect Medium is a well written book with hundreds of such photos.  The era, the mentality and the desperation to believe in ghosts is so very evident.

Here are some photos typical of the era.

Ectoplasm, supposedly.
A dangerous visitation
A seance in action

Have you ever been to a seance?  Or taken a photograph with strange results?

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 6

I am a great lover of the Victorian Gothic.  Crumbling castles, secret inheritances, madness, and ghosts are things I never get tired of reading about.  I even wrote my Masters thesis on the use of these genre elements in film.

The Southern Gothic is something that I have always felt like I couldn’t quite grasp, like I was always a step behind.  But I am trying again since I made the realization that in order for the Gothic to exist there must be some sort of “greatness lost.”  In England, it could be as widespread as the Dissolution of the Monasteries, or as simple as an estate that has seen better days.  But in all cases there must be some sort of longing for the past amongst the remnants of what used to be.  

via “Shantybellum”

In the American South, it is the antebellum era.  Business and industry were strong, cities and towns were thriving.  Plantations were grand palaces in a New World.  Yet, there was an undercurrent of angst — all of this was possible for a few, by building on the backs of many.  That planation owners lived in mansion like royalty while just a few steps away were slaves lived in hovels was a tension that could only last so long.

The Southern Gothic draws on this and the uneasiness of modern generations whose background lies in a time, in a lifestyle, that no longer exists.  These once gorgeous estates have fallen into disrepair, and in some cases, so has the sanity of their inhabitants.

via “Shantybellum”

So I think I might take another crack at reading some Southern Gothic literature.  And I think I may start with 13 Alabama Ghosts and Jeffrey, recommended by The Paris Review, to understand more of the history, the groundwork for this very specific genre.

What do you think of the Southern Gothic?  Do you think there are other regional “gothics”?  What stories or novels represent them?

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 5

I always visit an old cemetery when I can.  There is something so comfortable about them.  It’s quiet and peaceful, sometimes with lovely paths or discoveries to make.  It’s not a macabre thing for me; I truly enjoy thinking about the people and the history that is there.

When on our honeymoon last summer I went to no fewer than 5 cemeteries.  Here are some photos of a few of them.  In Edinburgh they had a tradition of listing the person’s occupation, which I thought was great.

Old Calton Cemetery, Edinburgh
Philosopher David Hume, Edinburgh
Author of HOROLOGY, Edinburgh
Old Calton Cemetery, Edinburgh
Greyfriars Churchyard, Edinburgh

 

Greyfriars Churchyard, Edinburgh
Greyfriars Churchyard, Edinburgh
Greyfriars Churchyard, Edinburgh

 

I will post more from other cities during my 31 Days of Halloween posts.

Do you like to visit cemeteries?  Or do you find them frightening?

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GIVEAWAY: JASPER FFORDE’S “THE WOMAN WHO DIED A LOT”

 

I have adored Thursday Next ever since she burst onto bookshelves everywhere (and in every dimension).  For me, there was finally a heroine for nerdy, literary, smart young women – like me.  Or, like I want to be.

Thanks to the generous people at Viking, I am happy to announce I have copy of the latest installment, THE WOMAN WHO DIED A LOT, for you to win!

All you have to do is leave a comment with:

1) Your name (first is fine)
2) Your email address (“name [at] domain dot com” to prevent spam)
3) What book you would want Thursday Next to take you into?
4) Share this giveaway with your friends and followers on FB and/or Twitter.  {Tag me @cineastesview}
* US Only, please.  Contest open until 10/10/12, 7:00pm EST *

This giveaway is now over.  Congratulations to Audra!  Thank you for entering.

This service has been brought to you by the Goliath Corporation, reminding you to eat your toast every day.

 

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31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN – Day 2

I’m sure this won’t be the only post in 31 Days of Halloween to feature that great American writer of the Gothic, Edgar Allan Poe.  But did you know he also wrote a The Balloon Hoax of 1844?  It was a very complicated and technical story about two men who  successfully flew across the Atlantic Ocean in a hot air balloon.  You can read the full text here.

It may sound silly to us now, but when news could only travel as fast as a letter or a newspaper, and when the ordinary person didn’t understand complex science, it would have been plausible that such a feat had been accomplished.  For its time, it was one of the ultimate trick-or-treats!

(For more Halloween fun, print out the Poe picture and use as a jack-0-lantern pattern).

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REVIEW: THE WHITE FOREST by Adam McOmber

McOmber’s debut novel explores an unseen fantasy just under the surface of Victorian England.  Heroine Jane Silverlake has always been a but different, but she has never quite understood how, or why.   In an ever-changing, growing London Jane attempts to find her place.  Though she was well-born, her mother died mysteriously when she was very young.  Since then Jane hears the sounds, the souls of objects.  Her father has been patient but absent.  Her only companions are friends Madeleine and Nathan.  The three wander Hampstead Heath — one of the few places where the sounds are quiet for Jane.  They are an unlikely trio as they grow older though, and jealousies begin to arise.

Nathan, an impetuous young man from an upper class family, is obsessed with Jane’s “ability” and becomes embroiled in a strange cult that meets in Southwark.  Jane, it seems, has the ability to enter the Empyrean, a cosmic place before existence.  When Nathan disappears, though, the girls know that it is more than just a passing fad for him.  In comes the detective Vidocq, a real historical figure, to investigate the kidnapping.

The Empyrean, as imagined by Gustave Dore for The Divine Comedy

The book begins strongly; it pulls no punches.  The novel delves into the metaphysical, psychology, with an edge of steampunk, all in a Victorian Gothic setting.  McOmber’s tone is forceful yet flowing.

The story of their friendship and Pascal’s eventual dependence on Maddy for both room and board was straightforward enough.  Maddy first made his acquaintance outside a small French-style café near Charing Cross.  He’d been using a piece of charcoal to draw a picture of a street in the walled city of Nimes where white chickens wandered on cobblestone and irises made silent observance from tilted window boxes.  ~Pg. 18

McOmber’s characterization of London is equally enjoyable:

London seemed a series of tall shuttered house that evening, all crowded along a single narrow street.  The air was full of dust and the pungent smell of dense humanity.  We came as close to Piccadilly as traffic permitted and then dismounted, using a series of passages to avoid getting mired in the congested streets.  These “secret passages” were oddities of London, symptoms of a city that had been built and rebuilt — a city without order or plan.  The poor made their home in these passages, and we walked through their makeshift parlors, brushing lightly through the darkness with Nathan as our leader.  ~Pg. 109

I am not an expert, or even extremely familiar, with the fantasy genre, especially in its most recent iterations.  As Jane’s understanding of her place in the world becomes more clear, the book’s tone changes from a mysterious novel with a bit of the supernatural, to a full-fledged fantasy story.  In fact the last two or three chapters almost seem like they were written by someone else.  The entire style alters.  It was equally well-written, just completely different.

This is a solid debut novel and I would recommend it for fans of fantasy who like books rooted in real places or characters.

Many thanks to the folks at Simon and Schuster for the review copy.
________________________

Touchstone, September 2012
Hardcover, 320 pages
ISBN-10: 1451664257
ISBN-13: 9781451664256

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REVIEW: MURDER IN THE RUE DUMAS by ML Longworth

Cover Image via Penguin

This whodunit revisits Judge Antoine Verlaque and law professor turned amateur sleuth Marine Bonnet, and their lives in Aix-en-Provence.  The two were introduced in Death At Chateau Bremont, a mystery about identity and inheritance.  This time they join forces to find the murderer of fellow professor Dr Georges Moutte.

Scholarly, perhaps, but hated by most faculty and students, he held a prestigious post and enjoyed tormenting those who hoped to be his predecessor — and those who hoped to be awarded the Dumas fellowship.  Two such promising students discover Prof. Moutte’s body on the floor of his office when they break in, looking for clues as to who will win the fellowship.  The investigation reveals a coveted apartment, Galle glass, trips to Italy, and faculty jealousy — all wrapped up in the complicated relationship of Verlaque and Bonnet.

A Galle Vase

I actually liked this book a good deal better than the first.  The plot was much more intriguing, without being convoluted.  Longworth deftly skips between character narratives and never leaves any trail untouched for too long.  The characters were better drawn — gently flawed, fully-rendered and believable.  Rather than feeling dragged along, as in some mystery novels, I felt invited to partake, in a way.  The reader is expected to make judgments and have favorites.

 And, as before, Aix itself is a character:

Marine stopped between the third and fourth floors, as she usually did, to catch her breath.  She was thankful that most buildings in old Aix stopped at the fourth floor and not the sixth like Paris.  She had picked up a small roast beef at Antoine’s favorite butcher, a place so small that she usually passed it before having to double back down the narrow rue duMaréchal Foch.  The butcher did not flirt with her as other commerçants did — he took his job seriously; he was polite, but did not chat or tell jokes.  It was obvious that meat came first, and a poster on the wall confirmed that.  It depicted a stone barn with a steep slate rood and flower boxes, below that the name of the farmer and his address and phone number in the Salers region of the Auvergne, inviting the patron to visit and see his herd of strong red cows.  ~Pg 130.

Though it may seem that such a tangent is unnecessary to the plot, it is actually these details that make the story plausible.

Murder in the Rue Dumas is an enjoyable little cozy.  It is recommended for fans of Dorothy Sayers or Miss Marple.  Enjoy with a pot of tea — or some French wine and cheese.

Many thanks to the kind folks at Penguin for the review copy.
____________________
ISBN 9780143121541 | 304 pages | 25 Sep 2012 | Penguin | 8.26 x 5.23in | 18 – AND UP

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Paris Review – Dreaming in Welsh, Pamela Petro

“Ahead of me the Beacons’ bald, grey-brown flanks were furrowed like elephant skin in ashes-of-roses light. It soon became chilly but the ground held onto its warmth, so that the hills began to smoke with eddying bands of mist. That dusk was unspeakably beautiful and not a little illicit. It seemed, for a millisecond, as if I were witnessing the earth drop its guard and exhale its love for the sky, for the pungent cattle, the rabbits whose bones lay underfoot, and for me, too.”

via Paris Review – Dreaming in Welsh, Pamela Petro.

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REVIEW: MRS. QUEEN TAKES THE TRAIN by William Kuhn

 

This book is almost like a work of fan fiction.  What if this cast of characters were suddenly let loose in an unlikely scenario.   Queen Elizabeth II, despondent and full of wanderlust, embarks on an unusual trip.  Constantly surrounded by assistants, servants, schedules, and protocol, she is looking to reconnect with simpler days.  After her annus horriblus, (the breakup of Fergie and Andrew, Diana and Charles and the fire at Windsor Castle), it seems nothing is the same.

One afternoon, while visiting her beloved horses, she accepts the loan of a hoodie against the sudden rain.  Slogging back to the palace, she notices that she isn’t recognized by her own guards.  Surprised and amused, she takes advantage of the situation.  What begins as a walkabout to the local cheesemonger becomes an escape from England altogether.  She jumps aboard a train headed for Waverley Station in Edinburgh.  Edinburgh, where her beloved Britannia is now docked, open as a museum.

…Then they could all retire to the Britannia for a few days, having justified the expense of sailing her out by holding some official dinners on board.  How lovely she looked, white and buff and blue, rising up out of the haze on a hot afternoon.  And when she became too old, to expensive to run, well the Government absolutely refused to build another yacht.  It was that word “yacht” wasn’t it?  The Queen couldn’t appear to waste public money on personal pleasure.  She understood that, but she wondered if the newspapers actually knew how many boring Commonwealth suppers she’d had to sit through.  If anybody had earned a bit of a treat, she had, what with the endless small talk she’d engaged in on national business.  ~Pg. 127

The book paints a picture of a tired but thankful Queen who could use with a bit of human interaction that isn’t based in ritual.  But more than that, it focuses on those who orbit the Queen.  Butlers, assistants, ladies-in-waiting, equerries and proud citizens all intertwine to “save” the Queen from her impromptu holiday.

A photo of the actual Queen Elizabeth II wearing a hoodie while on vacation near Balmoral.

The book is a bit staid; respectable but not anything outstanding.  It wanders, too much in fact, away from the tender themes that it does have.  The Queen herself is barely in it.  Instead Kuhn chooses to explore the backstories of his other characters, what brought them to work in the Household.   For fans of narratives that mosey along, with plenty of tangents, perhaps this is the book for you.  For Anglophiles or fans of snappy stories, I suggest they look elsewhere.

May thanks to Harper for the advanced review copy.
_______________________________

ISBN: 9780062208286; ISBN10: 0062208284; Imprint: Harper ; On Sale: 10/16/2012; Format: Hardcover; Trimsize: 5 1/2 x 8 1/4; Pages: 384; $25.99; Ages: 18 and Up

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Letter to a Young Critic: William Giraldi Defends True Criticism – The Daily Beast

Always good to hear…

More important, a blistering review—if it is written as a candid assertion of your principles—will strengthen existing friendships and earn you new friends whose worth surpasses those who have revealed themselves as your foes. When you are truthful, and especially when the need has arisen for you to be viciously truthful, you will always find yourself in illustrious company.

Letter to a Young Critic: William Giraldi Defends True Criticism – The Daily Beast.

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The Case of the Missing Mother – Cabinet Card

Thanks to QuelleBooks, I’m obsessed with finding these “Missing Mother” portraits.  According to the fascinating and unnerving post on Retronaut, “This was a practice where the mother, often disguised or hiding, often under a spread, holds her baby tightly for the photographer to insure a sharply focused image.”  Some are more subtle than others and it’s amusing to see feet peeking out beneath heavy tapestries.

I found this photo at a little antique store in Greenup, Illinois.

What I find so intriguing with this one is the extensive work the photographer did during the printing process to “burn and dodge” out the mother’s head.  There is also a strange double exposure on the right hand side, near the baby’s feet.   it seems clear to me that the mother’s arms are around the baby, and that her head has been “photoshopped” out, Victorian style.

What do you see?

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Cracking the code of SHERLOCK

Yes, I’m obsessed with Sherlock.  In almost all of his iterations.

When my mind begins to feel bored I try to crack the mystery of the S2 finale of BBC Sherlock entitled The Reichenbach Fall.  I plan to rewatch all of the episodes soon, but just for fun, I decided to enter the three “hint” words that the creators of the series just gave out into an anagram engine.  The results are pretty fun. The words, which correspond to the titles of the 3 episodes in S2, are “woman”, “hound”, and “fall.”

Awful Ham London
Nodal Human Wolf
And Human Follow
La Man Wolfhound
A Damn Fun Hollow
A Human Old Flown
Lawman Hold Of Nu
Handful Am Low On
Had Faun Moll Won
Had Alum Flown On
Hand Alum Flow On
A Flaw London Hum

They then added the words “rat”, “wedding” and “bow” to the mix.

Bad Wronged Wit
Brand Widow Get
Add Brewing Two
Dead Brown Twig
Traded Bow Wing
Dated Brown Wig
Grand Bet Widow
Windward Begot

And with all 6 together…

A Baa Gilded Downturn Flown Whom
A Baa Domed Downtown Flung Whirl
A Baa Molded Window Flung Thrown

Thoughts?

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For a critic, niceness is beside the point – latimes.com

“What Mendelsohn is getting at is the central faith of anyone who takes criticism seriously: that it is an art. And, like all arts, it comes with its own aesthetics, its own challenges and considerations, which all of us who write it have to keep in mind. Of these, the most important is that criticism is subjective, that, as in any creative enterprise, we can only write from our perspectives, which we must honor and, as Mendelsohn points out, constantly question, as well.”

Read the entire article: For a critic, niceness is beside the point – latimes.com.

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DAY SEVEN of RURAL ILLINOIS 2012

The last day of any trip is always bittersweet.  The dread of the long car ride, the return to work, leaving family yet again.  But there is the promise of sleeping in your own bed, reuniting with the dog and seeing if you got anything good in the mail.

Our last day in Illinois was spent almost entirely at the fairgrounds.

First were several running races, including one in memory to my grandfather.

And in between the posts were novelty races, like Shetland ponies and mules.

Saturday was also the Cumberland Derby, part of the National Road Triple Crown.  It is one of the few county fair derbies still in existence.  This year, people we asked to wear derby hats.  Ribbons and prizes were given to the best.

My cousin Rachael won. Of course.

The races ended late afternoon.  We went up to Cameo Vineyards for a bit before returning to the fairgrounds for the Demolition Derby.

The “opener” was the barnyard scramble where people and goats are put in a pen and let loose.  If you can grab a piece of tape off the goat’s back, you win!

Even the Fair Queen joined in!

As the sunset, it was time to bring on the cars for smashing up.

As a “bonus”, there was a combine derby.  It looked like a couple of rural Transformers going at it.

So after about 3 hours of inhaling fumes and withstanding deafening noise, a new Cumberland County Demo Derby champion was crowned.

It was so hard going to bed that night, knowing that we had to get up in the wee hours and hit the road.  It was a wonderful week (as always) in rural Illinois.

Until next time!

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REVIEW: MONSTER by Dave Zeltserman

I think the original Frankenstein is a brilliant work of literature.  Nearly 200 years later and it still causes nightmares and engenders philosophical discussions, not to mention dozens of films.  And it inspires “revisionist” works such as this.

Monster is from the first-person perspective of the “creature”, Dr. Victor Frankstein’s monster.  The inner thoughts (the brain) of the creature are from Friedrich Hoffmann, a man who was falsely accused then brutally executed for the murder of his bride-to-be.  Friedrich’s memories, and mental anguish, remain.  He vows to take vengeance on behalf of himself, his beloved’s, and everyone’s lives that the maniacal Frankenstein has ruined.

The initial idea is interesting, but it loses focus quickly.  Rather than following the original story and adding fresh perspective, the creature can speak from the get go and has complex thoughts.  He travels the countryside encountering devil worshipers and an accused witch, but no blind man in a cabin.  The slight acknowledgement there is (Captain Walton, Elizabeth) seems to be done reluctantly and half-heartedly.  While I didn’t expect those scenes to be in there, I thought there would be references — an occasional wink to Shelley’s story.

Portrait of Mary Shelley

The writing itself is somewhat simplistic and repetitive.  In some cases it seems like he copied and pasted a paragraph from a few pages previous.  This does nothing to enhance the storytelling, and only further annoys the reader.

Additionally, the writer seems to rely upon gory details to create horror.  He seems to forget that the horror comes from psychological entrapment, not from bloody stumps and descriptions of Satanic rituals.  The attempts at expressing Hoffmann’s feelings of being trapped are weak and almost incoherent.  Instead, the writer falls back on salacious descriptions of severed heads and deviant parties — which do not lend any credence.

A still from “The Brain That Wouldn’t Die” — The character is known as Jan in a Pan

The book falls somewhere in the cracks between modern revisionist and schlock.  There are two — count ‘em, two! — Jans-in-a-Pan in this Sodom and Gommorah of Frankenstein’s creation.  But for some reason the writer didn’t embrace either campy horror or serious literature.

The result is a bit of a messy experiment, stitched together from random parts that do not quite create a coherent whole.

Many thanks to the folks at Overlook Press for sending me a review copy.
___________________________________________

ISBN 13: 978-1-59020-860-1
Trim Size: 5 3/8 x 8
Hardcover
222 Pages

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DAY SIX of RURAL ILLINOIS 2012

August 24, 2012

After lunch and taking in a few harness races at the fair, we drove up to Tuscola to see a new store called Vintage Karma.  Ainslie and Laura, the owners, were so welcoming and friendly.  They have a great thing going there on Sale Street.

The shop features work by several artists and includes jewelry, textiles, paintings, and sculpture.  The one thing each piece has in common is that it (re)uses something from the past.  The result is an eclectic selection of items.

They also carry a great selection of vintage sodas!

The shop also hosts weekly craft nights were anyone can come in to work on projects with fellow artists.  And though I am not “inked” myself, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the work being done by Ainslie in her upstairs tattoo parlor.  I left with a few lovely items myself, and I think, some new friends.  It’s so great to know that places like this exist.

We took a turn around downtown Tuscola and went in to the Candy Kitchen, which has been there since 1901.

On the drive back to Cumberland County, we took a detour through Arcola to see the Walldogs murals.

We then headed back to the fairgrounds for the truck and tractor pull — and to take more photos of the rides.

The Miss Cumberland Country Fair Queen opens the tractor pull.

I love how surreal these rides look by night…

Moon over the fairgrounds

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DAY FIVE of RURAL ILLINOIS 2012

August 23, 2012

Today was blissfully uneventful, really.  We drove my cousin to Effingham to pick up his truck from an oil change, and after a lunch at Steak n’ Shake, we headed back to the farm. I spent a good amount of time in a chair reading.

PG Wodehouse is always a favorite and I’m so glad I grabbed this one from the library before I left (thanks, Live Oak Public Libraries!).

We decided to eat dinner at the fair and I opted for Taco In A Bag.  Then we skeptically took our seats for the evening concert.  The line up had 4 acts: Madison Bolin (19 and from a few miles away), Mia Bergmann (14 and from NJ), Jo Caine and headliner Colt Ford.  Ironically the local girl was the best — she could sing even if she wasn’t polished.  Mia sang pretty well but the machine has gotten ahold of her — and her sound guy was dreadful.  After that it became some weird hybrid of very loud, muddy country rap.

Madison Bolin
Mia Bergmann
Jo Caine
Colt Ford

I had quickly “had enough” and went to take photos of the fair rides in action.


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DAY FOUR of RURAL ILLINOIS 2012

August 22, 2012

Today at the track was harness racing.  Between the actual trotting races were speciality races, like kids on stick horses.

After harness racing we stopped by the Cameo Winery to test some of the new varieties, we visited with a cousin.  She gave me a fresh haircut.  We then all met up at Pank’s Pizza,  a local establishment, for dinner before heading back to the fairgrounds for the rodeo.

Although there were a few bulls and horses, most of the rodeo turned out to be filler.  A mildly funny clown told lame jokes and too much time was spent on audience games.  I wish there had been more actual rodeo.

After coming home, we played card games until the wee hours.

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DAY THREE of RURAL ILLINOIS 2012

August 21, 2012

Today we enjoyed lunch at The Fillin’ Station in Toledo.  The town has an historic square with a courthouse, post office, newspaper and small businesses.  It reminds me of To Kill A Mockingbird and Back To The Future.

After lunch, they had finished judging at the halls so we stopped in to see who won the various ribbons.

My mom’s painting won a blue ribbon!

Then we cooked out at Ross’s and had a wonderful dinner on the back deck.  Uncle Bobby, picture below, told some amusing stories.

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DAY TWO of RURAL ILLINOIS 2012

August 20, 2012

This morning we went down to Grandad’s shed and poked around.  That shed houses more bits and pieces than one would think possible.

We stopped by to see some old family friends before heading to the fairgrounds for the thoroughbred racing.

In the evening was the 2012 Cumberland County Fair Queen and the Little Miss Pageant. Full of awkward pauses, silly speeches and more than one dance routine that was entirely too long, it was exactly what you expect from a county pageant.

The outgoing Queen

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DAY ONE of RURAL ILLINOIS 2012

August 19, 2012

Yesterday was spent in the car, driving nearly 800 miles from Savannah, GA to Greenup, IL.  This morning I awoke early to the sound of … nothing.  I suppose if I had listened carefully I could have identified small songbirds or a few crickets.  My cousin cooked us all a delicious hearty breakfast, then I began reading a new book on his deck.

A bit before noon we headed down to the fairgrounds to watch the 4H Horse and Pony Show.  Kids of various ages bring their equine to be judged on health and obedience as well as ridership.

We then went to the Fair Secretary’s Office and submitted our various entries for the Art and Ag Halls.  I entered 11 photographs, but my cousin Rachael must have had 50!  We grabbed some delicious lunch from the Smoke Shack then settled in for the trail portion of the event.  The kids have to get their horses to go backwards around barrels, on wooden platforms and over timbers.

My aunt Gail’s entry for a “Collection of 10 vegetables”. This one is inspired by this year’s drought.

On the way home from the fair, we stopped to check in on a friend who is taking apart an old barn.  This barn has stood across the road from my aunt and uncle’s house for as long as I can remember, and before that.  It’s very strange to see a memory being dismantled.

We enjoyed a lovely sunset before grilling out then playing dominoes under the stars.

 

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REVIEW: THE OTHER WOMAN’S HOUSE by Sophie Hannah

In the last couple of years I’ve become a fan of Sophie Hannah’s writing.  She writes fast-paced, gritty police procedurals with dark psychological undertones.  In some ways, she reminds me of a British Kathy Reichs.  This installment of Zailer and Waterhouse’s casebook takes them to Cambridge.

The book’s main heroine, Connie, is suffering from a bout of insomnia.  She logs onto a real estate website and browses for “dream” homes in nearby Cambridge.  While looking at property photos, she sees one with a dead body splayed on the living room floor.  Shocked and discombobulated, she reloads the site, but the image is gone.  Thus begins a series of confusing events that causes Connie to question her sanity and identity.

Connie attempts to solve the unnerving incident, with help from a honeymooning Zailer and Waterhouse and a stateside officer Sam Kombothekra.  But even a close following of the clues does not give away the ultimate suspenseful ending.

New construction in Cambridge

Sophie Hannah switches between narrators and tenses.  Connie “speaks” in present tense  and often goes into stream of consciousness.

While Kit takes him upstairs, I pace up and down, picturing 11 Bentley Grove’s lounge, trying to uncover the missing detail.  The woman disappeared.  The blood disappeared.  And something else…

I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts that I don’t notice Kit had returned, and I jump when he says, ‘I know everyone hates estate agents, but you’ve taken it to a whole new level.  What you haven’t done is considered the why.  Why would some evil genius estate agent, sitting in his office in Cambridge, want to include an elusive dead woman complete with own pool of blood on the virtual tour of a house he’s trying to sell?  Is it, what a daring new marketing technique?  maybe you should see which agent the house is on with, ring up and ask them.’ ~Pg. 47

This sort of wandering inner thought that the reader is privy to adds suspense and allows the reader to quickly and strongly sympathize with the characters.  It also limits the readers understanding of what’s going on, which allows us to discover it as the characters do.  It’s an effective device and one that Hannah uses well.  This book in particular harkens back to elements Gaslight, which a film nerd like myself can’t help but giggle at with delight.  The plot is full of red herrings and, like much of Hannah’s work, is not a whodunit for the reader to figure out but rather a twisting tale to watch unfold.

Many thank to the folks at Penguin for the review copy.
_____________________________
ISBN 9780143121510
Paperback
5.31 x 8.03in
464 pages
26 Jun 2012
Penguin | 18 – AND UP

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PENGUIN ACTS OUT – Part The Fourth

Penguin has got himself into trouble this time!

He had a weak point — this Fortunato — although in other regards he was a man to be respected and even feared.  He prided himself on his connoisseurship in wine.

We passed through a range of low arches, descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to glow than flame.

The Cask of Amontillado, by Edgar Allan Poe 

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REVIEW: CITY OF RAVENS BY Boria Sax

The Extraordinary History of London, the Tower, and its Famous Ravens

Last summer I went to the Tower of London.  There I made a number of unexpected discoveries, although if I had ever stopped to think about it would have seemed rather obvious.  For instance, there are several buildings that make up the “tower”, the oldest and most famous being the White Tower.  It isn’t really a tower, but a fortress or a castle. Unlike the Buckingham guards, the Yeomen are very much allowed to talk to you and are wonderfully friendly folks.  The real Crown Jewels really are kept there – provable by the fact very strict British advertising laws actually prevent any sort of “bait and switch”.  If they advertise it, they have to be real.

And as a “fan” of ravens in general I was very excited to see the avian residents at the Tower.  They are incredibly curious and obviously intelligent.   One of the many things that makes me such an Anglophile is their unwavering adherence to tradition.  So having a warder whose sole job is to tend the ravens at the Tower is amazing to me.

And like the thousands upon thousands of visitors to the Tower each year, I believed the general story that they had been part of the Tower for centuries.  Apparently the true story is a bit more complicated.

Boria Sax’s book is a neat thesis the explores the history of ravens (Corvus corax) in general, in England and at the Tower.   These background chapters were my favorite.

Their [the raven's] complex social structure resembles that of human beings.  Ravens live within a nuclear family and raise their young collectively, yet they also assemble in huge gatherings for reasons that are not fully explained.  They communicate in part through a large range of vocalisations, and they have long been renowned for their intelligence.  Because ravens can seem ‘almost human’, they elicit strong feelings from people, and have been alternately revered and persecuted throughout human history.

Because of their extraordinary cleverness, people can find ravens irascible and, at times, even diabolic.  A recent publication of the US National Park Service advises tourists that, “Ravens have learned how to unzip and unsnap packs.  Do not allow them access to your food.” But despite their reputation as tricksters, ravens have often been able to thrive in human settlements, and Aristotle considered them birds of the city.  Pliny tells of one raven that made its next in the shop of a cobbler in Rome and became so beloved that a man who killed it was punished with death.  the raven was given a splendid funeral attended by a large crowd of mourners.  ~Pgs. 24-5

Sax then explores how the legend of the Tower ravens was born.  The answers are surprising and enlightening (but I will leave it to the reader to discover).

The book lands somewhere between academic and popular history.  It is accessible for a casual reader but full of well-researched quotes and references.  I recommend it for any history buff or Anglophile’s shelves.

Many thanks to Overlook Press for the review copy.

You can follow the Tower of London’s Ravenmaster on Twitter here.

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ISBN: 978-1-59020-777-2
ISBN 13: 978-1-59020-777-2
Trim Size: 5 x 7
206 pages
Hardcover

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My STRAND Contest Entry – A Letter from Stella

The very cool Tumblr kept by The Strand Bookstore posts found photos and underlined passages in the books.  They recently hosted a contest to write a piece based on one of their posts.  I chose a black and white photo of a young girl dancing.

I did not win, but I would still like to share my entry here.  I wrote a letter from the girl to her brother.

Dearest Henry –

I hope you are well.  It seems ages since you’ve been home.  I daresay you wouldn’t recognize me.  I’ve grown at least a half of a foot since you left.  Lucy finds my sudden height a nuisance as I am always raiding her wardrobe for something to wear.  I think she’s jealous.  I swear she wouldn’t mind if she weren’t so preoccupied with gaining the affections of Mr. Stanley.  She needn’t try so hard.  He’s not very attractive himself and has eyes for no one else but Lucy.  Even so, she changes her dress at least three times a day and again for dinner.  He must have seen them all by now, but perhaps men do not notice such things, do they, Henry?

The household is well enough.  Mother keeps to her garden, as the days have been quite fine lately.  We all encourage her to write as she always has some story or another whirling around in her mind, but you know it’s been hard for her.  I think the house spent among nature in solitary contemplation are good for her and her books.  I know her publisher is anxious for a new manuscript.

I took some flowers to Father’s grave yesterday.  The ground has leveled and the grass is beginning to grow again.  His stone still looks too new and shining to be real.  I feel as though the funeral I remember was a strange dream.  He must have know when we were born that he wouldn’t be with us long.  But I’m glad we knew him.

I despise school but it’s near the end of the term now.  Mrs. Pigeon (her code name, for she bobs her head while she talks) is a dreadful instructor.  She puts lessons on the chalkboard then leaves us to teach ourselves while she reads a romance novel, tucked into our literature reader.  She thinks we don’t know, but there’s nothing in our schoolbooks that would make a grown woman blush!  Then she calls on us each, one by one, to read our answers, and we have to mark our own papers (honestly).  The only thing in which she succeeds is belittling those who come up with incorrect answers.  Thankfully, in another couple of weeks I shall never have to submit to Mrs. Pigeon again.

Perhaps my restlessness comes from a lack of male companionship.  I find I am surrounded only by girlish pastimes.  I long for those summer evenings where you and I stayed out among the fireflies.  We ran through tall grasses and chased out the evening moths, forded streams that cooled our dusty feet.  Those days seemed eternal then.  I’m glad I didn’t know how special they would be to me now; it would have ruined the magic.  I would have tried to bottle it instead of letting it wash over me.  I suppose there is nothing for it but to be grateful for the memories, especially whenever I miss you.
I’ve enclosed a snap for you.  I hope it reminds you of the Midsummer plays we put on.  Please give my best to Madge.

Your loving sister,
Stella

PS Despite Lucy’s complaint about my height, Ms. Petrov thinks it has helped my form considerably.  She says my turnout is much improved and I may even go en pointe soon!

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REVIEW: CHARLOTTE MARKHAM AND THE HOUSE OF DARKLING by Michael Boccacino

Charlotte Markham has been a victim of Fate.  She lost her husband to a fire and was forced to take a job as governess in the Darrow house.  When Nanny Prum is brutally murdered in the middle of the night, Charlote is required to take on those duties as well.

She shares one thing with her charges — they’ve both lost someone dear all too soon.  Their mother died recently and the children, understandably are still not themselves.  In an attempt to help them decompress, she invites them to draw something from their dreams.  Paul, the elder brother, creates a detailed map of the grounds, with one important difference — a house where his mother waits for them.

The book is somewhat reminiscent of The Turn of the Screw.  The narrator is a very conscientious, if sometimes naive, guardian of the children.  With her, their health and happiness is paramount.  At the same time, she is also precocious and is determined to satisfy her curiosity.

A squat, muted chandelier hung low from the ceiling, casting the room in dim amber light.  I sat on the edge of a thick leather armchair, determined not to sink back so far as to be rendered incapacitated should the strange situation spiral any further out of my control, even as I promised myself that it would not.  To my bewilderment the cushions expanded as if the chair were fighting against me so that I might be more comfortable.  Was it possible for furniture to become offended?  I firmly kicked the leg behind my right foot, and the chair regained its former shape.  ~ Pg. 62

Despite her in-the-moment mentality, there is much she still has to learn.  The “rules” of the House of Darkling are unknown, as are the opponents.  Her own memories haunt her just as she tries to relieve the strain on the children.  But something she cannot resist lies just beyond the misty orchard.

Charlotte Markham poses philosophical questions about life and death, and how we would the choices given to her.  It’s also a dark tale of literary adventure where a spunky young woman tries to outsmart Death.  I didn’t find it to be life-altering, but it is a very enjoyable read.  It is well-crafted storytelling.  The “rules” are a bit convoluted and it feels somewhat rushed near the end, but it hardly matters.  The imagery and atmosphere are dark and rich.

Many thanks to the kind folks at William Morrow for the review copy.

________________________

ISBN: 9780062122612
ISBN10: 0062122614
Imprint: William Morrow Paperbacks
On Sale: 7/24/2012
Format: Trade PB
Trimsize: 5 5/16 x 8
Pages: 320; $14.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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My PARIS REVIEW Contest Entry

The Paris Review recently posted a contest.  The idea was to be inspired by a funny illustration and write 300 words or less in the style of Ernest Hemingway, P. G. Wodehouse, Joan Didion, Elizabeth Bishop, or Ray Bradbury.  Obviously I chose Wodehouse.  I didn’t win — I didn’t even make the cut as a finalist.  But I did have a dashed good time and wanted to share what I wrote.

This time when she looked up, it wasn’t Tommy Humphries-Bogle at all, but some dreadful hoofed creature.  Oh! And he was gaining on her!

The crushed gravel spat under her tyres as she sped up the drive.  Samantha Hardings pedaled with all her might towards the garage.  She was on the grounds now; surely the chauffeur would come to her rescue.  And oh how she loved to be rescued.

Samantha discovered she had an undeniable pleasure in getting into scrapes, just to be saved by an admirer.  She’d been engaged more times than anyone she knew — and had been rescued from numerous marriages as well.  But even so, this was just too much.

Tommy Humphries-Bogle, that inventor of adjustable sock stretchers, had become enamoured of her, after an evening of champagne and digging for night-crawlers.  Samantha, the youngest in a brood with six elder brothers, thought this a perfectly innocuous thing to do on a summer’s evening.  Now it was all she could do to avoid the poor, love-sick creature.

She’d gone into the village for an afternoon diversion, a bit of tea and gossip with old Mrs.Travers seemed to be what the day had ordered.

“Oh, dearie me, so lovely of you to drop by,” the ancient woman said as she teetered to the door.  “I’ve just cooled some shortbread.  In you go, in you go.”

After a bit of a chat, she begged Mrs. Travers for her recipe, to no avail, then took her leave.  On the way to the post office she spied the familiar gait of Tommy Humphries-Bogle.  Too late, she tried to turn away.

“Wait! Samantha! You have to speak to me sometime!”

“But I don’t, darling!”  And off she rode.

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PENGUIN ACTS OUT – Part the Third

 

One of the the wildest stories related to a Yellow Diamond — a famous gem in the native annals of India. … Partly from its peculiar colour, partly from a superstition which represented it as feeling the influence of the deity whom it adored, and growing and lessening in lustre with the waxing and waning of the moon, it first gained the name by which it continuues to be know in India to this day — the name of THE MOONSTONE. …

And the Moonstone was seized by an officer of rank in the army of Aurungzebe.

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REVIEW: THE PRISONER OF HEAVEN by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

Zafon experts, please forgive me — this is my first time reading one of his books.  After I was nearly finished with it, someone asked me how I liked the first two in the series.  Oops.  But, I was impressed enough to want to go back and read them.  And as far as I am concerned, The Prisoner of Heaven stands on its own.

In 1957 Barcelona, Daniel Sempere lives above the family bookstore with his wife and newborn son.  His best friend, Fermin, is about to married.  Then a mysterious, cagey stranger appears and threatens to upset their happiness.  The crippled man purchases a rare edition of The Count of Monte Cristo and inscribes it to Fermin.  Fermin must then confide in his friend if he is to defeat the ghosts of his past.

Barcelona in the 1950s

The book uses frame story structure to give us glimpses into Fermin (and Sempere’s father’s) years during Franco’s reign, as well as using Daniel’s firsthand narrative to put the pieces together.  Zafon’s characters have a voice that is bemused, worn down by oppression and hardship.  They find a desperate humor in their difficult situation.

A professional bookseller has few opportunities to acquire the fine art of following a suspect in the field without being spotted.  Unless a substantial number of his customers are prominent defaulters, such opportunities are only granted to him vicariously by the collection of crime stories and penny dreadfuls on his bookshelves.  Clothes maketh not the man, but crime, or its presumption maketh the detective, especially the amateur sleuth.   ~Pg. 14

Books and storytelling are a prominent theme here.  Aside from Daniel’s job, there is the Cemetery of Forgotten Books.

His tiny figure was engulfed by the great beam of light pouring down from the glass dome in the ceiling.  Brightness fell in a vaporous cascade over the sprawling labyrinth of corridors, tunnels, staircases , arches, and vaults that seemed to spring from the floor like the trunk of an endless tree of books and branched heavenwards displaying an impossible geometry.  Fermin stepped on to a gangway extending like a bridge into the base of the structure.  He gazed at the sight open mouthed.  I drew up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

‘Welcome to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books, Fermin.’
~  Pg. 264

I’d also like to give my complements to Lucia Graves, who translated the novel from Spanish.  She  conveys the rich, velvetiness of Zafon’s writing.  A good translation is so important to gravitas of a book and she does a great job here.

The Prisoner of Heaven is a fairly quick read, full of adventure and thematic intertwining.    It is a fresh take yet has an ancient wisdom about it all in a new (to me) setting.  Now, I’m off to find the rest of his books.

Many thanks to the folks at Harper for the review copy.

___________________________

ISBN: 9780062206282
ISBN10: 0062206281
Imprint: Harper
On Sale: 7/10/2012
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 6 x 9
Pages: 288; $25.99
Ages: 18 and Up

 

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SPOTLIGHT: BORIS AKUNIN in The New Yorker

I have ADORED Boris Akunin for years.  I mean, at least 10 years; maybe more.  I was heart-broken when American publishers stopped “importing” him.  Last summer, I went to London and stopped in at Daunt Books in Chelsea.  I bought every Akunin / Fandorin book they had.  When I explained to the wonderful staff that I couldn’t get them in America they were stunned.  i wish 3000 miles did not separate me and that lovely shop.

Hopefully this profile in The New Yorker will help bring Akunin, and Fandorin, back to America.

_________________________

July 27, 2012
Boris Akunin: Russia’s Dissident Detective Novelist
Posted by Sally McGrane


Grigory Chkhartishvili has his best ideas in the morning. When he first wakes up, the fifty-six-year-old writer—who, under the pseudonym Boris Akunin, is one of Russia’s most widely read contemporary authors—might think of a new predicament in which to ensnare his popular hero, Erast Fandorin, the dashing nineteenth-century detective who can see into people’s souls and always wins at games of chance. …

Read more http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2012/07/boris-akunin-russias-dissident-detective-novelist.html#ixzz227l5coCI

 

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REVIEW: THE BELLWETHER REVIVALS by Benjamin Wood

The Bellwether Revivals is part Evelyn Waugh, part Patricia Highsmith, and part… something else.  Twilight Zone, perhaps.  The protagonist, Oscar Lowe, is a townie with few prospects in the storied university town of Cambridge.  While wandering past the King’s College chapel, he is entranced by the organ music he hears.  He sits in on the service and become enamored by one of the angelic voices in the choir.  Oscar waits on the chapel steps, hoping to meet her.  She is Iris Bellwether, and her brother Eden, it turns out, is the organist.  He falls in with the Bellwether siblings, pulled into their otherworldly existence.

In a kind of Talented Mr. Ripley, in reverse, Oscar begins to fear the unhinged genius of Eden Bellwether.  A musical prodigy, he is convinced that certain compositions and ceremonies can heal.  Vibrations realign and agitate cells to reconfigure, almost like string theory on a larger scale.   But Eden’s hobby begins to take on a life of its own — and threatens to destroy others’.

Wood presents a setting that only Old World, storied intellectuals live in. Here, the minds of Cambridge meet the unfettered wealth and youthful arrogance. Like Nick Carraway in the Great Gatsby, the reader needs the guidance of Oscar in this strange yet simultaneous world.  Wood describes an evening with the Bellwether family:

They all retired to the drawing room after dessert.  It had the conscious extravagance of a hotel lobby: leather sofas, candleabras, a grand piano, and a marble fireplace.  Theo stood behind a rosewood cabinet, stacked with cut-glass decanters, and began removing stoppers and sniffing the contents of each bottle, as if about to commence some explosive chemistry experiment.  Eventually, he chose one and lifted it.  ’ Alright.  Who’ll share some Delamain with me?  Oscar, I know your’e game.’  Theo raised one eyebrow.

‘Thanks, Mr. Bellwether,’  he said, ignoring Iris’s suggestive cough.

‘Some of the best cognac you’ll ever drink, this,’ Theo went on. ‘Three grand for seventy piddling centilitres.’   ~Pg. 96.

This is a conversation Oscar could never even begin to have.  It’s doubtful someone in his position would ever even have £3000 together.  His world consists of 12-hour shifts at an elderly nursing home.  Still, he manages to find pleasure in it, befriending an old man who lends him books and life advice. But after meeting the Bellwethers, Oscar finds himself constantly feeling out place no matter where he is of who he is with.  As Eden slowly takes over their lives, things become even more surreal.

Wood’s writing is clear and straightforward, which makes the oddity of the story all the more powerful.  The characters, particularly Eden Bellwether and Herbert Paulsen, are richly drawn.  The story does take a couple of chapters to get going, but once it does, it is highly addictive.  It a few flakes become a snowball, then an avalanche.  It’s a forceful, unnerving and brilliant book.

Many thanks to the folks at Viking Adult for the review copy.  Visit author Benjamin Wood’s official site.

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ISBN 9780670023592 | 432 pages | 14 Jun 2012
Viking Adult | 5.98 x 9.01in | 18 – AND UP

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REVIEW: THE SOMNAMBULIST by Essie Fox

Firstly let me say that the genre of the Victorian novel is safe.  As anyone who reads my blog has probably noticed, I have a particular penchant for books about ghosts, Victorian England, a country house and a secret.  I can’t get enough, it seems.  And this one often reminded me of Gaslight.

 It’s told from the point-of-view of 17-year old Phoebe Turner.  It is 1881 and her beloved aunt Cissy is an esteemed opera singer.  Phoebe’s mother is a Bible-thumping missionary.  The two sisters could not be more different.  One night, Phoebe is allowed to attend one of her aunt’s performances at Wilton’s Music Hall, and in a moment she is swept up in the footlights and greasepaint.  Despite her mother’s warning against “theatre people”, she also sees the camaraderie among the backstage family.  That is until a strange man oozes his way into her family’s life — and turns it on its head.

Wilton’s Music Hall still stands today.

Trapped by a family secret, Phoebe finds herself accepting a position as a companion to a Mrs. Samuels.  She leaves all she has known in London for an estate in Herefordshire.  Here she finds a graveyard, madness, and answers to questions she didn’t know to ask.  She discovers treachery and deception that leads back to her own existence.

The Somnambulist relies on many of the conventions of a Victorian novel.  Setting certainly plays a huge role, as do the numerous letters sent between the characters.  Family secrets and missing objects are also a common theme.  Essie Fox brings the genre into the modern era by including an added layer of salaciousness (For all their popular novelty, Victorian novels maintained a certain level of propriety by being less explicit).  Here, certain scenes resemble Joyce Carol Oates more than Wilkie Collins.  This novel does not pull any punches, which makes it all the more compelling.

The Somnambulist by John Everett Millais

Throughout the book, the idea of sleepwalking is prevalent.  The theme varies from the most literal to far more figurative suggestions of consciousness.  Who are we when we sleep?  What is reality, and what is a dream, and how does one affect the other?  How much of our wakeful lives do we spend “sleepwalking”, just to get through the day?  Is the line between life and death like the line between wakefulness and sleep?  What is real and what is superstition?  While the house is in mourning, Phoebe describes the parlor:

Except for the wheezing old organ in church, there was to be no music that day.  Cissy’s piano was draped in black velvet, the same with the mirrors that hung over the mantels; the same with the big marble clock.  On the day of the death, when she wound that down, it felt like another heart being stopped.  But nature abhors a vacuum, and little wonder the ghosts of the past took hold of that silence to creep inside, bringing with them the nets in which we would be trapped.     ~Pg. 66

I truly enjoyed reading this book and seeing yet another take on the Victorian novel.  It’s great for a long weekend or a couple of afternoons in the backyard hammock. I look forward to reading more by Ms. Fox.

In this case, I had to do a little detective work to get my hands on a copy.  It does not yet have a US publisher, but hopefully that will change soon.  Until then, you can purchase it from The Book Depository, who offers free shipping worldwide. A great many thanks to the folks at Orion Books UK for sending me a copy.

_____________________________

384 pages
234mm x 153mm x 32mm
ISBN-13 Number: 9781409123316
Publication Date: May 2011

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REVIEW: MRS. ROBINSON’S DISGRACE by Kate Summerscale

Kate Summerscale has once again uncovered a fascinating story from the ever contradictory Victorian era.  Not so very long ago, divorce was nearly impossible (unless you were King Henry VIII, of course).  Until 1858, “marriage could only be dissolved by an individual Act of Parliament, at a cost prohibitive to almost all of the population.  The new Court of Divorce and matrimonial Causes was able to sever the marital bond far more cheaply and quickly.”  The case brought forth by Mr. Henry Robinson is one of the first the court hears.

Isabella was already a widow (her husband “went mad”), with a significant dowry and inherited property, at age 31 when she wed Henry Robinson.  Henry was a civil engineer — respectable, if not overly impressive.  They had two children together and Henry built a sizable home, called Balmore House, for the family.

It appears the structure still stands today, in Caversham near Reading.
http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/1934709

Yet Isabella was not content.  Far from it.  She was smart, inquisitive and tenacious.  She wanted to be surrounded by thinkers and artists.  And she wanted to be loved, not tolerated or used. What sounds perfectly reasonable today was radical 150 years ago.  Intelligent women were tolerated, within certain limits, and only when it didn’t interfere with duty.

Like many 19th century people, Isabella Robinson kept a diary.  Summerscale writes:

By 1850 the Letts company was selling several thousand diaries a year, in dozens of different formats.  These were the books in which Isabella wrote; they came bound in cloth or in red Russian calf hide, which gave off a faint scent of birch bark, and couple be fitted with protective covers and spring locks.  ’Use you diary with the utmost familiarity and confidence,’ Letts counselled the novice diarist, ‘conceal nothing from its pages nor suffer any other eye than your own to scan them.’  …

Women, in particular, took to diarising with a passion. … The act of diary-keeping honoured many of the values of Victorian society — self-reliance, autonomy, the capacity to keep secrets.  But if taken too far, these same virtues could turn to vices.  Self-reliance could become radical disconnection from society, its codes and rules and restraints; secrecy could curdle into deceit; self-monitoring into solipsism; and introspection into monomania.                               Pages 152-4

In this case, her diary did more damage than she could have imagined.  As her marriage became increasing unhappy, Isabella wrote of secret and exciting interactions with other male figures in her life.  She admitted to being miserable, to wishing she could leave her despicable husband.  While in the throes of a life-threatening fever, Henry finds her diary, reads it and decides to use it against her in court.

Not only was Isabella Robinson subjected to the humiliation of begin taken to divorce court, her innermost thoughts were read in court, transcribed by the newspapers.  In her letters during the time she seems to be almost in denial that anyone could use private thoughts and ideas as evidence.  She sounds frustrated but confident that common sense will win out.  Yet a conundrum seems to be all that Isabella faces.  She is encouraged by friends to claim madness, that he writings were nothing but hallucinatory.  No answer is satisfactory.  If she claims they are imaginings, then she is mad.  If she claims the entries to be true, then she must be mad to have written them down.

Even while Isabella Robinson had involved conversations with Charles Darwin, was good friends with phrenologist George Combe, and was related by marriage to William Wordsworth.  Yet she was also considered a poor example of womanhood. Despite her efforts to find some sort of peace within her unhappy life, she was left to be embarrassed by a society that would rather not accept her.

Summerscale’s research is impeccable. Several pages are devoted to notes with extra tidbits of information.  She completely encapsulates the strange grey area that was the Victorian era.  She has combed through thousands of letters, newspaper articles, and yes, diaries, to paint as complete a picture as possible.  And despite the title of the book, does not use Isabella’s diary as a source for salacious tidbits, like tabloids would have.  It is just one reference point for a greater portrait.

Many thanks to Bloomsbury for the review copy.
__________________________________________

June 2012
$26.00
384 pp
5.5 x 8.25 in
Hardcover
ISBN-13: 9781608199136
ISBN-10: 1608199134

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REVIEW: THE FAIRY RING by Mary Losure

I have always loved this story – a story within a story, really.  It speaks so much of the times and the psychology of an era.  I was a teenager, though, before I learned about the Cottingley Fairies.  I do wish I’d had a book like this to read when I was young.

The book gives an overview of how Elsie and Frances managed to find themselves involved in a national obsession.  Losure sketches their individual personalities, setting the stage for an incredible story.  Two young girls, restless and creative — and tired of being ignored — snapped photographs of themselves with dainty creatures of the woods near their home.  The girls insisted they communicated with these fairies.  And in a time when photography was a new technology, it was assumed that a photo equaled reality.  When the pictures made it to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the Strand Magazine, their quiet country existence became chaotic.  And, as is human nature, numerous people found in it precisely what they were looking for.

Sir Arthur wrote a book about Elsie and Frances’s pictures.  He called it “The Coming of the Fairies.”

Science, Sir Arthur now believed, was like a harsh light that left the world hard and bare, ‘like a landscape in the moon’.  And surely, there was more to life than that!  Just knowing fairies were out there, even if you never got to see one, added charm and romance to the world.

Sir Arthur didn’t say this in his book, but a part of him had longed for fairies ever since he was a boy. … In the asylum, Sir Arthur’s father drew pictures of tiny people holding leaves as big as umbrellas or lurking in flowerpots or riding on the back of birds.

Sir Arthur didn’t mention any of that in “The Coming of the Fairies.”  But if fairies were REAL, Sir Arthur’s father wasn’t crazy after all.                                    ~  Pages 141-3

Elsie and Frances down the beck

Losure tells the tale in a plain way, but it is not condescending.  She notes that the girls behaved badly for not being honest, but they are not vilified.  She highlights the narrow window between innocence and experience, between belief and reality.  Perhaps most importantly, she notes the importance of being true to yourself, and not needed validation from anyone else.  

Thank you to Candlewick Press for the review copy.

suggested retail price (U.S./CAN): $16.99 / $19.00
isbn-10/isbn-13: 0763656704 / 9780763656706
on sale date: 03/2012
type/format: Nonfiction / Hard Cover
age range: 10 yrs and up
# of pages/size: 192 / 5 1/2 x 7 1/4″
grade range: Grade 5 and up
__________________________________

I invited a young lady, by the name of Sage, to also read and review this book.  She is 14 and I welcomed her views on The Fairy Ring.  Here are her thoughts.  

The Fairy Ring or Elsie and Frances Fool the World is written by Mary Losure. It was published March 27, 2012 by Candlewick Press. The age level for this book is 10 year old and up, so says the book.  I think that the book publishing company is wrong in this aspect. A 10 year old living in today’s world would have trouble reading this book because of the use of outdated words and the older camera used in the turn of the century is so different than the camera than we know today that some children might not grasp the concept. Instead I think that this is a wonderful read-aloud book for a child of any age or an independent book for anyone over the age of 13. In either case, it is probably a good idea to keep a dictionary near by. All in all, this book is a very quick read and quite lovely at that.

The Fairy Ring or Elsie and Frances Fool the Worldis a true story about a 9 year-old girl named Frances who sees little fairies near the small brook in her aunt and uncle’s backyard. After the start of World War I, Frances and her mother move in with her Aunt Polly, Uncle Arthur and her cousin, Elise in a little town by the name of Cottingley in Yorkshire, England while her father is fighting in France. When Frances is made fun of for believing in fairies, Elsie says she saw the fairies too. To prove that fairies exist, Elsie makes paper pixies and borrows her father’s camera to take pictures of the fairies with her and with Frances.  These pictures are soon forgotten and stashed in a drawer, until Polly visits a lecture about nature spirits presented by an organization of people by the name of Theosophists. Elsie’s mother tells the lecturer about the photographs her daughter and her niece had taken of fairies.  Mr. Gardener soon writes a letter to Mrs. Wright telling her how astounding the pictures were and if Elsie would take some more. He sends Elsie six-dozen plates to take pictures with. (At this time, cameras were very different than cameras today. Instead of film, glass plates were used. Each glass plate had to be inserted in a dark room. ) The fairy pictures were shown in lectures given by the Theosophical Society in London. A writer for the Strand was doing research for an article about first-hand accounts of fairy sightings. This writer was none another than Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the author of Sherlock Holmes. Soon, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Mr. Gardener team up to uncover the truth on the fairy pictures; to find a scam. This leads to the harassment of both girls to take more pictures. One day, they take three more.  Time passes, and Elsie and Frances are no longer able to see the fairies. Neither of them took another fairy picture.

 I thoroughly enjoyed this book.  Losure uses wondrous imagery to describe the beck in Elsie’s backyard. The description of the ‘little men’ that Frances sees is just wonderful. It makes me want to visit a little waterfall or a glen.

You can buy this book on Amazon for as low as  $6.97 (That price includes shipping. Regular price: $16.99.)

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Texts From Jane Eyre | The Hairpin

Wow, this is just stunningly hysterical.  Especially for someone who just wrote her masters thesis on this…

JANE WHERE HAVE YOU GONE
I AM BEREFT AND WITHOUT MY JANE I SHALL SINK INTO ROGUERY
i am  with my cousins
WHICH COUSIN
IS IT THE SEXY ONE
Please don’t try to talk to me again
IT IS YOUR SEXY COUSIN
“ST. JOHN”
WHAT KIND OF A NAME IS ST. JOHN
I’m not going to answer that
I KNEW IT
DID YOU LEAVE BECAUSE OF MY ATTIC WIFE
IS THAT WHAT THIS IS ABOUT
yes
absolutely
BECAUSE MY HOUSE IN FRANCE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE AN ATTIC
IF THAT’S WHAT YOU WERE WORRIED ABOUT
IT HAS A CELLAR THOUGH SO YOU KNOW
DON’T CROSS ME
HAHA I’M ONLY JOKING

Read all of them here: Texts From Jane Eyre | The Hairpin.

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REVIEW: AN UNMARKED GRAVE by Charles Todd

Those who are suffering from a bit of Downton Abbey withdrawal and enjoy a cozy mystery should read this book.  Battlefield nurse Bess Crawford is alerted to an unaccounted for corpse in the shed turned makeshift morgue.  Interest piqued and always dutiful, she intends to report the findings to the Matron.  Before she can, she is struck with the rampant Spanish Influenza that took down so many in the waning days of WWI.  Despite her delirium, and a close call with the illness, she remembers what happened the night she fell ill and sets out to solve the mystery.  But when her compatriots begin dying under strange circumstances, she knows that she will be next.

Jessica Brown Findlay as Lady Sybil / Nurse Crawley

Bess is the head-strong daughter of a retired colonel, who now has a high-level job in his Majesty’s government.  She grew up on post in India, though now her parents have a place in Somerset.  When war broke out she insisted on being useful (much like Lady Sybil Crawley) and volunteered to be a battle field nurse.  Her parents, certainly respectful of the idea of duty to King and Country, supported her efforts, while keeping a watchful eye on her as best as possible.

Charles Todd (actually a mother and son team of authors) is very well versed in the details of the times.  The novel follows Bess as she travels back and forth between England and France, from rehab facilities to field hospitals, from ambulance tracks to channel steamers.

And so I waited.  Last night the sun had set in a blaze of gold and red, sliding behind a bank of deep purple clouds.  Now it was pitch dark without the flickering light of the shelling, and the only way we could be certain we were on what passed as a road were the wide swaths of deep ruts left behind by the lorries.  Our blacked-out headlamps were woefully inadequate, casting shadows that only made it harder to judge anything in time to avoid another bone-wrenching jolt.  About two miles out we spotted the single chimney and broken wall of a farmhouse.  It had become a marker of sorts, and we all knew to watch for it.  The rest of the village was little more than rubble, with no way of judging where the streets had been, much less the houses or shops that once had lined them.  How this single chimney and wall had survived God knew alone.     ~ Pg. 105

L0024924 No. 2 Stationary Hospital, Rouen, France; W.W.I
Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images

There is almost constant travel, traversing borders in an attempt to both serve as a nurse and discover all of the threads in the web of the man in the shed.  And though she is anything but nonchalant, she is almost unflappable.

The novel moves very quickly and is full of action.  It is suspenseful and another great summer read.

Thanks to the folks of William Morrow for the review copy.
____________________________________

ISBN: 9780062015723
ISBN10: 0062015729
Imprint: William Morrow
On Sale: 6/5/2012
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 6 x 9
Pages: 272; $24.99; Ages: 18 and Up

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REVIEW: THE UNSEEN by Katherine Webb

This is the first novel I have read by Ms. Webb but when she started with an epigraph page with quotes from William Wordsworth, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Rudolph Steiner, I knew I was in for a well-wrought story.  She certainly knows her literary stuff.

The novel straddles the span of a century — 1911 & 2011.  A young journalist is asked to find information about a WWI soldier whose body has just been found.  With just a couple of letters found with the soldier, she begins her search.  In the alternate world, Cat Morley is just starting her new job as a maid at Cold Ash Rectory.  The Reverend Albert Canning and his wife Hester hire the unfortunate girl as a sort of mission or kindness.  Their relationship is awkward, at best, and made even more strained when a Mr. Robin Durrant enters the picture.  A theosophist of great repute, the Reverend seeks to impress him with his own stories of fairies and elementals.  The two feed off one another’s arrogance and delusion.

A home in present day Cold Ash, Berkshire, England

The book is written in present tense, a style I usually don’t find readable.  However, Webb manages it well.  Descriptions are still rich and not the usual clipped, terse style of present tense writing.  Additionally, because it is contemporaneous, we the reader do not know that the narrator will “be alright”.  It adds dramatic tension and brings the reader closer to the action.

It is nowhere near lunch time when a smart knock at the door jolts Cat from her reverie.  She has been distracted all morning, her gaze wandering far and away through the hall window that she’s supposed to be polishing with ball of old newspaper.  Thoughts of George Hobson tease her mind away from work.  She saw him again last night, drank enough beer with him to make her head spin and her insides glow.  Now her head is spinning still, and her stomach feels weak, and a slow throb of pain has taken to beating behind her eyes.  Fatigue makes hr limbs heavy and her thoughts slow.  Even this early in the day the air is warm, and a mist of sweat salts her top lip. When the door knocker forces her to move she turns, catching sight of herself in a heavy-framed mirror on the wall.       ~Pg. 113

Cat is a complicated heroine.  She is both mature for her age and forced to deal with things far too young.  She is a free spirit trapped in a less than forgiving world.  She is likable but far from perfect.  Still, the reader is happy to root for her as she attempts to navigate the complicated household.

Webb also gives due to Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre and her madwoman in the attic.  Jane’s terror when she is locked in the Red Room at Mrs Reed’s is as palpable. One of Cat’s worst fears is realized when she is locked in her room.

She hurls herself at the door, scrabbling at the wood, heedless of the splinters that drive themselves beneath her fingernails.  She points her fists against it, feels the shock of each blow rattle her bones.  But the door does not yield.

Hester, on the floor below, lies sleepless and alone in her bed. … Hester shuts her eyes and puts the pillow over her head, but she can’t block out the girl’s distress completely.  She has no choice but to hear it, and finds in it, as the night progresses, an echo of feelings deep inside her own heart.                   ~ Pg. 326

The reader can’t help but recall Jane’s own sleepless nights as Bertha Rochester haunted Thornfield.

One final, though rather picky, note.  The cover of this book does not match the book itself.  I know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but one does.  This cover looks like a YA romance, rather than an Edwardian-set mystery.  I just found it confusing.

All in all, The Unseen is a well-written, enjoyable book.  It would be a perfect summer read, especially on a thunderstorming afternoon.

Many thanks to William Morrow for the review copy.
____________________________________

ISBN: 9780062077882
ISBN10: 0062077880
Imprint: William Morrow Paperbacks
On Sale: 5/22/2012
Format: Trade PB
Trimsize: 5 5/16 x 8
Pages: 464; $14.99; Ages: 18 and Up

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BRIEF REVIEW: JANE EYRE (2011)

Director Cary Fukunaga has given a new generation a gorgeous version of this classic tale.  Since its publishing in 1847, under the pseudonym Currer Bell, Jane Eyre has fascinated both readers and storytellers.  This adaptation is beautifully shot, very well-acted, and enhanced by a stunning score from Dario Marianelli (Atonement, I Capture the Castle).  The set of Thornfield is perfect.  It’s devastating and romantic and even funny at times.

And until the last third of the movie, I thought someone had finally made a perfect adaptation.  But, like Jane, my dreams were dashed, made all the more painful because I had dared to hope at all.

Yes, everyone has a favorite scene that they can’t wait to see on the big screen.  Or a line that doesn’t match quite with their imagination.  But this goes beyond minuscule details.  Even more frustrating, many of these key scenes were shot, but edited out (Luckily you can see them in the extra features).

* Spoilers beyond this point *

There are no scenes that hint at or show Bertha until the failed wedding.  Although Bertha does try to set Mr. Rochester’s bed on fire, there are no cackles from the hallway, no unholy screams that keep Jane awake.  There is no Grace Poole as a red herring.  There isn’t a hint of the supernatural or any idea that something is amiss.  Most frustrating, is the lack of the veil shredding scene.  It jumps from Adele playing with the veil to Jane and Rochester heading to the church.  I think the lack of these scenes undermines Jane’s character and detracts from the richness of the story.  The uncertainty, the unsettled atmosphere is key to Jane Eyre.  Without it, it becomes little more than a “will they or won’t they” story.

There are also some important elements of Mr. Rochester’s character that are left out.  Though shot, but cut, there is a scene in which he describes his connection to Adele’s mother.  I found Wasikowska and Fassbender’s chemistry most evident during this scene, but it was inexplicably cut.  And Rochester’s speech at the altar?  Nowhere to be found.  He merely takes the wedding party to his attic, for our first glimpse of a woman who looks methed out.

* End of spoilers *

In short, what IS there on screen, is beautiful and well done.  The problem is it leaves what I consider essential scenes out.  Do see it; it was very enjoyable.  Just know that somethings are missing.  I suppose I am only all the more disappointed knowing how very close to perfection they came.

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Life After Death | Futility Closet

Late in life Arthur Conan Doyle pursued an interest in the possibility of spiritualism and existence beyond the grave. He was widely criticized for this, but a writer to the Graphic raised a redeeming point:

Although we may misbelieve mediums and
With doubt and suspicion our minds may be filled,
Sherlock Holmes, we must grant, reappeared in the Strand
A number of times after having been killed.

Indeed, Holmes had returned against his creator’s wishes. “I never thought they would take it so much to heart,” Conan Doyle once wrote of Holmes’ death. “I got letters from all over the world reproaching me on the subject. One, I remember, from a lady whom I did not know, began ‘You beast’.”

Life After Death | Futility Closet.

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In a Word | Futility Closet

nescience
n. ignorance; lack of knowledge

agnoiology
n. the study of ignorance

In 1927, Hungarian physiologist Albert Szent-Györgyi isolated a substance in lemons and oranges that seemed to prevent scurvy.

He couldn’t identify it chemically, so he called it “ignose,” meaning “I do not know.”

When the editors of the Biochemical Journal asked for a different name, Szent-Györgyi suggested “godnose.” Finally they settled on “hexuronic acid.”

It turned out to be vitamin C.

In a Word | Futility Closet.

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ALBUM REVIEW: BLOSSOM & BEE, Sara Gazarek

This is my first album review, so bear with me.  I may not know the various technical terms, but I know when jazz is good.

I’ve been waiting for someone like this to come along — and for me to find her.  Diana Krall is too condescending; Tierney Sutton is too high-minded.  Ever since Miles Davis, jazz has experienced a rift.  If I had to describe it in a sentence, I’d say that one side wants a melody and the other doesn’t.  (Listen to a much more eloquent rant than mine from Jason Marsalis here.)  Vocalist too seem to struggle with this.  Which kind are you?  Do you go for nonsensical scat and dissonant accompanists? In my opinion, desperate to be on the leading edge and be noticed, too many talented singers opt for noodle jazz, or something like it.

Finally, a fresh, lovely voice who can swing a standard.  Thank you, Sara Gazarek. And thank you, John Clayton, for taking her under your wing (as if I needed another reason to be in awe of that lovely man).

She finds and explores beautiful, hidden nooks and crannies of a song without making it an exercise.  Neither is this a rehash of the same old torch or list songs.  Gazarek embraces her youthfulness with a lilting “So This In Love” from Cinderella, a grooving “Unpack Your Adjectives” from School House Rock, and the theme from the 2003 film Down With Love.

But this is not to be confused with immaturity.  Far from it.

She holds her own against veterans Larry Goldings and John Pizzarelli.  She delivers a heartbreaking “The Lies of A Handsome Man.”  It’s a well-crafted ballad of a woman somehow between naivete and wisdom — a place that is necessary evil, that has to be looked at square in the face.  Gazarek shows us she’s been there, with an ironic smile.

I look forward to many more years of her clear voice, well-balanced accompaniment and lively spirit.  Long live jazz.

www.saragazarek.com

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REVIEW: ABRAHAM LINCOLN, VAMPIRE HUNTER (2012)

So, the title tells you just about all you need to know.  Knowing the basics, I expected a silly action flick.  And it is.  The film (and presumably the book, although I haven’t read it) weaves in biographical details about Lincoln into a completely ridiculous tale about vampires.

As a boy, Lincoln’s mother is killed by a ruthless and jealous merchant (who also happen to be a vampire).  He vows revenge and gets his chance as an impetuous teenager.  Unsuccessful in his vengeance bid, he retreats to study under a more accomplished vampire hunter.  After a training montage, he is now ready to smite the undead with his mighty axe.

First, the strong points.  The set design and decoration was quite good.  From a one room cabin in Indiana to a decrepit mansion in New Orleans to a small dry goods shop in Springfield, Illinois, the production design nailed it.  Similarly, the cinematography was very well done.  There were plenty of candlelit rooms and moonlit landscapes that must have been difficult to photograph, but they were important for the mood and story.

Now the not-so-stellar points.  With few exceptions, the acting was horrendous.  Rufus Sewell, who seems incapable of turning in a bad performance, plays a centuries-old vampire who has allied himself with Jefferson Davis and the rebel forces.  There the acting accolades end.  Anthony Mackie, Abe’s friend Will, Jimmi Simpson, owner of the dry goods store and Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Mary Todd, do well enough to not embarrass themselves.  The same cannot be said for Dominic Cooper, Marton Csokas, and unfortunately Benjamin Walker.  He brought as much personality to the role of Abraham Lincoln as the marble statue in DC.  I’ve not seen any of his other films so I have nothing to compare it to, but this cannot be his best work.  He is stilted, wooden and awkward.  I don’t even know why Erin Wasson was there.  Her character, and her portrayal of it, were useless.

The film is completely lacking in subtlety, though that is hardly a surprise.  Other “monster” movies like White Zombie and I Walked With A Zombie explore the idea of slavery and colonialism in various kinds, comparing it to being “zombified”.  Here, the film explains it numerous times, and any value the idea had is lost.

The action sequences are nothing special.  They are strange mix of Jackie Chan kung fu and 300-style blood splatters.  The climactic action scene is on a train, but Buster Keaton did more with less, and 90 years ago.

I wasn’t expecting a masterpiece, but I was hoping for a campy, cult favorite.  Something that had just enough good about it that it would be one a 24-hour loop on TBS on February 12th, or be the basis for a new drinking game, perhaps.  Unfortunately it fell short of that goal.  It tried too hard to be a serious movie, rather than embracing the genre it rightfully belongs in.  The result is an awkward identity crisis.

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Penguin Acts Out – Introduction

The super cool people at Penguin English Library have been having a little fun with a penguin figurine and some famous scenes in classic literature.  This has been christened Penguin Acts Out.

I’ve been inspired to do the same but I’ve only done a couple so far.  Watch this space for my contribution to Penguin Acts Out!

 

 

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REVIEW: THE QUEEN OF SPADES (1949)

A somewhat forgotten film, The Queen of Spades seems to be making a quiet return.  Made on a small budget, the film was nominated for a BAFTA (British equivalent of the Oscars) and was screened at Cannes, before dropping off into obscurity.

Based on a novella by Alexander Pushkin, the film follows one man’s obsession for money and control.  It is set in 1806 in St. Petersburg, in snowy streetscapes and glittering opera houses.  A regiment of soldiers frequents a basement den of iniquity, complete with dancing and singing gypsies, tankards of vodka and gambling.  The game of choice is Faro, a simple two-person came of chance.  The protagonist, Herman Suvorin (Anton Walbrook) is captain of the engineers, and a German.  He does not partake in the revelry, choosing instead to save his money and live fastidiously.

The handsome captain lives in a spare apartment.  The bedclothes are modest, the candlestick is well-waxed and It’s clean and everything has its place.  He carries no debts and exists simply.  And he seems contented, if not entirely ecstatic with his situation.  That is until he hears the story of a Countess, who traded her soul for the secret to winning at Faro.  That was sixty years ago.  She is now an old, embittered woman (Edith Evans) and the secret will soon die with her.

In stark contrast to the captain’s ruthless nature is Lizavetta Ivanova (Yvonne Mitchell).  She is a young woman, now the ward of the countess, after she was orphaned.  in return for the countess’s magnanimity, Liza is the old woman’s companion.  She puts up with her complaints of draughts and impertinent young people, and wishes to be free of the countess’s constraints.  Liza has more affection for the servants than her benefactress and sees no use in a frivolous amount of money.

Their two realities meet and a tempestuous relationship begins.  They each have something the other wants — the captain wants into her gilded cage, while she wants a way out.

I found myself much more interested in the supernatural intrigue than the love story and I wish the film had focused more on it.  A good bit of the middle is melodramatic with love letters and swooning.  One of the stronger scenes is all too short (in fact, there is an awkward cut, which makes me wonder if some footage was lost).  The captain goes into a used bookstore and stumbles upon a mysterious volume of stories.

It’s telling that the film chooses a German, the home of the Brothers Grimm, to be the one to believe in “fairy tales” such as these.  For no sensible Brit or world-weary Russian would consider the stories in this book anything more than a collection to pass the time.

The film is beautifully shot in high contrast black and white, and often in the shadows.  It’s reminiscent of the Tourneur/Lewton projects but more classical in style.  Austenites will recognize some similarities in the social situations, the dress, and the dancing.  Indeed, Liza could well be an Austen heroine herself.  Perhaps that is the British film team’s influence creeping in.  After all Russia, holds a strange place on the map — not quite the mystical East, nor the civilized West. It’s still long before the Bolshevik revolution, and nearly ten years before Waterloo.  There is a sense of wealth that has nothing to do but indulge in decrepitude.

Unfortunately, it does not appear that Netflix carries this title yet (although they do have various ballet versions), so in order to see it you will need to purchase it – which is still a bit tricky in the US.  Hopefully, this resurgence in interest will bring it to a wider audience.  If you do get a chance to watch it, hang on for the end.  Yes, the “love” stuff will feel a bit outdated and overwrought, but the last 15 minutes are stunning and chilling.  It’s when all the supernatural buildup comes together.

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A special thanks to Jim Reed and the Psychotronic Film Society who found and screened this film.  I doubt I would have ever seen it otherwise!

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REVIEW: FOOLING HOUDINI by Alex Stone

Part memoir, part essay, part history, Fooling Houdini is an incredibly readable book.    We’re brought along as Stone remakes himself from a haughty know-it-all who is publicly disgraced to humble student who finds his master.

The author had always dabbled in magic tricks and illusions.  He writes:

 Eventually my fascination with the mysteries of magic, and my quest for new material, led me to immerse myself in a world of meetings, lectures, and workshops — an underground community of like-minded obsessives for whom magic is more than just a hobby: it’s a way of life.  In any given week in New York City, where I now lived, there were a dozen private gatherings: in the backs of diners, a split-level veterans’ lodges, in spare rooms at medical centers and universities, and in various other undisclosed locations.  I quickly learned that the juiciest secrets were seldom printed in books or packaged in magic kits.  The most valuable knowledge — the real work — was passed along in secret session and backroom conclaves.  Deception, I cam to realize, was one of the few remaining oral traditions.                                                                 ~ Pg. 7

But after an embarrassing outing at the Magic Olympics (yes, they exist), Stone gives up his rabbit and top hat for a time.  When he finally decides to revisit his passion, he approaches it not only with new found respect, but also a great deal more circumspect.

He researches and studies psychological experiments, goes undercover into a three-card monte scheme and muses on the ethics of deception.  All the while, earning a Masters in Physics from Columbia University.  In fact, he becomes obsessed with what science and magic have in common, rather than viewing them as mortal enemies.

Stone’s writing style is jaunty and one imagines him to be likewise.  Though clearly nerdy,  he seems to have truly found his calling and is unabashed about it.

Stone posits:

Magic is a science as well as an art, and in science, knowledge serves only to deepen the mystery.  Each new find opens vistas on an uncharted territory at the edge of human understanding.  Nestled within each answer lies another riddle in an endless web of unknowns.

‘The vastness of the heavens stretches my imagination — stuck on this carousel my little eye can catch one-million-year-old light.  A vast pattern — of which I am part … what is the pattern of the meaning or the why?  It does not harm the mystery to know a little more about it.’  This from physicist Richard Feynman, and it seems to me that it applies as much to magic as it does to physics.                                          ~ Pg. 152

This is not a manual for magic, though he does explain the principles behind a few tricks.  He mentions his various run-ins with “breaking the magician’s code”, but these are hardly giving away anything.  As Stone points out, no one believes three-card monte is magic; it’s the psychology and the physics behind it that make it appear so.   This is a long essay on the fundamental ideas behind magic — both for audience and magician — as well as an exploration of what modern science can tell us about how perception and deception work in our minds.

Many thanks to Danielle at Harper for the ARC.

Hear more from Alex Stone at foolinghoudini.com
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ISBN: 9780061766213
ISBN10: 0061766216
Imprint: Harper
On Sale: 6/19/2012
Format: Hardcover
Trimsize: 6 x 9
Pages: 320
$26.99
Ages: 18 and Up

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REVIEW: SALMON FISHING IN THE YEMEN (2012)

This is the best movie of the year (at least, so far).  It’s charming but not saccharine, sweeping but not grandiose.  As it is based upon a book, story is paramount.  It is from Lasse Halstrom, the director of Chocolat, after all.

Emily Blunt plays Harriet Chetwode-Talbot, a smart, sleek and organized asset manager.  Her portfolio of clients includes one very wealthy Sheikh Muhammed (Amr Waked) from Yemen.  He has a manor in Scotland where he loves to fish for salmon and wants to bring his passion to the desert.  Chetwode-Talbot seeks out the preeminent expert on such things, Dr. Alfred Jones (Ewan MacGregor).  The two spar over the ideas that a cold water fish could live in a a place with no water.

Meanwhile, Her Majesty’s government is desperate for a positive news story out of the Middle East.  Patricia Maxwell (Kristin Scott Thomas) is determined to spin gold out of straw with this one and insists the project move forward.  And so this unlikely trio sets out to do the impossible.

Research takes the team to the Sheik’s estate (also know as Glenbogle from Monarch of the Glen), vast expanses of arid desert, canyons and boring office cubicles.  Each location is well-drawn, evoking a very real sense of place.  This variation somehow makes the project seem all the more daunting, and more adventurous.  Hallestrom uses each of these locations beautifully, including a couple of gorgeous scenes with low lighting.

The score too is very well done.  By veteran composer Dario Marianelli (I Capture the Castle, Atonement), it seamlessly blends the music and sounds of all of these locations.

These three main characters are quite well done.  Dr. Jones is a brilliant but socially awkward man.  He’s very kind-hearted but doesn’t really interact the way most people do.    Ms. Chetwode-Talbot seems to cherish British propriety, although she sees her own self fall short.  She expects a great deal from herself.  Sheik Muhammed is a philosopher who has the means to act upon his ideas.  He is not just a rich man with a crazy idea.  He wants to bring life and prosperity to his country.  Mrs. Maxwell connotes the a turning point of Kristin Scott Thomas’ career, I think.  No longer the soft, willowy heroine (English Patient, Horse Whisperer) she bursts onto the screen a la Kay Thompson in Funny Face and fills it in each of her scenes.

Salmon Fishing In The Yemen is funny, wise, sobering and inspiring.  It’s not going to make the kind of money that a summer blockbuster will (though it should).  But if you see it showing at a theatre near to you, DO see it on the big screen.  It’s beautiful and immensely enjoyable.

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BOOK BLOGGER HOP – Book Club

Do you belong to a book club, either online or in real life?

Not as such…

I generally pick such a disparate books that its rare that they (or I) want to read the same things.  I have yet to find a group of people to match my bizarre tastes.  I love 19th century classics (Wilkie Collins, Charlotte Bronte, Poe) and Victorian mysteries (and books written like them, i.e. Michael Cox, Susan Hill).  

My neighborhood is really cool and there is a book club.  I suppose I’m an unofficial member.  I’ve only been to one meeting, which was really a big dinner with lots of wine and chatting.  They’ve just announced their list for the next 6 months and I may join them a couple of times.  They really are a fun group!

 

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REVIEW: THE CHAPERONE by Laura Moriarty

For this one, you have to think back, imagine a time when Victorian mores hadn’t yet lost their grip.  For women, hair was still worn long (as were skirts – no pants), yet they were about to win the right to vote.  There was a constant tug between the past and the future.  It must have been very exciting, and terribly frustrating.

It was also when films were now ensconced as a form of popular entertainment.  Still in the silent era, millions of people would flock every week to see their favorite star shimmering on the screen, their overwrought expressions accompanied by live music.

This is the setting for The Chaperone.  New York City is still the hub of everything, and anything west of Chicago is still untamed.  And from Kansas a bewitching girl takes the country, and the world, by storm.

The novel is based on true events and is written from the point of view of Cora, the chaperone (though not in first person).  Cora is hired to accompany a young Louise Brooks to New York to continue her dance studies.  And while Louise is attending her intense training, Cora investigates her own past, her own origins.

Louise Brooks – Publicity Still

 As the two attend numerous shows and functions, Cora attempts to solve the mystery of Louise.  She seems to be able to control people with her mind.  She is at once youthfully innocent and frighteningly seductive — a quality that would be captured on film.  Cora struggles with her duty as a chaperone and the world where things are clearly changing quickly.

Louise, always manipulative, manages to get them to attend a show called Shuffle Along, at the 63rd Street Music Hall.

Cora’s gaze moved over the seats, then back down to her program.  The fact that there was a character named “Jazz” seemed especially worrisome.  Was it a jazz show?  A radical one with mixed seating?  She wasn’t much of a chaperone, sitting there passively with Louise, waiting for the music to start.  Just there year before, there’d been an article in “Ladies Home Journal” that warned that the new jazz craze was a real threat to young people, as it regularly led to a base form of dancing that stirred up the lower nature.  Even just hearing jazz was bad, the article said: its primitive rhythms and moaning saxophones were purposefully sensuous, and capable of hypnotizing young people.                                                     ~ Pg. 153

Cora, though uncomfortable at first, enjoys the show.  It is a turning point for her character as well.

Most of book follows the two women during their time in NYC.  Louise is “discovered” and Cora returns, although nothing is ever simple for either of them again. The latter quarter of the book skims both women’s lives – marriages, successes, downfalls, and falling outs.  It is also the weakest part of the book.  It becomes more of an overview of women’s rights in American history in social studies class and feels tacked on.  Only occasionally is their story brought into the content.

Louise Brooks in Pandora's Box

While The Chaperone isn’t mind-blowing, it is perfectly enjoyable.  Glimpses into Louise’s personality are particularly fun to read, as are the Prohibition-era snapshots of NYC.   Classic Hollywood buffs will enjoy reading about one of films brightest — and short-lived — stars of the 1920s.

Many thanks to Penguin and Riverhead Books for the review copy.
__________________________
Book: Hardcover
9.25 x 6.25in
384 pages
ISBN 9781594487019
05 Jun 2012
Riverhead
18 – AND UP

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Paris Review – Dear Paris Review, What Books Impress a Girl? , Sadie Stein

 

Dear Paris Review,

Someone sent me this text message yesterday: Whats a book I should read to make girls think I’m smart in a hot way? I want to seem like a douchey intellectual instead of my deadbeat self. What should I tell him?

 

Sincerely,
A

Paris Review – Dear Paris Review, What Books Impress a Girl? , Sadie Stein.

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Star Trails…

 

Star trails

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come

William Wordsworth. 1770–1850
Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood


All sizes | jsc2012e039800_alt | Flickr – Photo Sharing!
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ARMCHAIR BEA 12: Ask the Experts

I am surely no expert.  I “accidentally” fell into book blogging.  I’ve learned a great deal by absorption.  

At this point, I think my main question is how to get more readers.  How do I attract more engaged readers?  Readers who look for new posts, who leave comments and ask questions?

Ideas?

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REVIEW: JEZEBEL by Irene Nemirovsky

This is the first of Nemirovsky’s novels I have read.  I’d heard her story and was intrigued.    She was born in 1903 in Kiev to wealthy family, who immigrated to France.  Well-educated, she became a prolific and respected writer in Paris.  However, her life and talent were cut short when she died in 1942 in Auschwitz.  Her posthumous career has taken on a life of its own.  This book in particular was kept locked in a safe for decades and only released in 2006.

It opens on the trial of Gladys Eysenach, the main character.  She is accused of murdering a young man named Bernard.  As the trial proceeds, she does little to defend herself.  Rather she allows others to come to their own conclusions.  She would rather be found guilty than admit to the terrible truth she is trying to hide.

Gladys is obsessed with youth.  Her beauty is her only concern.  As the novel progresses (through flashbacks) it becomes clear that she will never be content and only serves to act as her own downfall.  Gladys’ selfishness is stunning.

In 1914 Gladys lived near Antibes in a beautiful but uncomfortable house, built in the Italian style; it had belonged to the Counts Dolcebuone and was named ‘Sans-Souci’.

‘I only rented it because of its name, ‘Care-free’, for it encapsulates all of life’s wisdom,’ she would say.

The rooms were vast and cold, the furniture covered in threadbare red damask.  But the dark walls softened the glaring light of the Midi and Gladys likes that.  Every day, just after she woke up, she would pick up her mirror and study her features, and she would find pleasure in the glowing shadow that softly lit up her face.   ~Pg 59.

Although it is written in the third person, it is from Gladys’ point-of-view.  The reader sees her disintegrate, slowly unravelling.

The main weakness in the novel is the repetitive nature after the halfway point.  The plot is left in the background — until the last few pages.  However the repeating thoughts do note Gladys’ static nature.  She is unchanging, ungrowing, even in the face of losing her freedom.  Her obsession has in turn consumed her and she is now unable to change.

The book reads more like a novella.  It’s easily read in a day.  I found it very reminiscent of George Sand and her Leone Leoni, and of James M Cain’s Mildred Pierce.  I’m very glad her work has been “rediscovered” and look forward to reading more of it.

A great many thanks to Audrey and Courtney at Vintage Anchor Books for the review copy.
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Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Vintage; Reprint edition (May 1, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0307745465
ISBN-13: 978-0307745460
Product Dimensions: 5.2 x 0.6 x 8 inches

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ARMCHAIR BEA 12: Beyond the Blog

Although I certainly haven’t reached my writing goals, by any means, I have done some freelance writing.  For a time, I was actually making a good bit of money doing it too.  There were even a few months that it covered the rent, free and clear.  But as the economy tanked, local outlets (the ones I wrote for) either went away or closed ranks.  Editors and staff began to do more of their own writing.  Magazines got thinner.  ”Advertorials” made up the bulk of the content. It still hasn’t really turned around, at least here.   So I threw myself into finishing my Masters thesis.  But you can read some of my freelance work here.  I’m particularly proud of the piece on the libraries, and the one on Poe, of course.

And in answer to the other question posted, no, I don’t monetize my blog.

My writing goals include: having my reviews picked up by a national outlet and finish writing a novel.

I can do that…

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ARMCHAIR BEA 12: Books and Networking

Today’s topic is about networking “in the real world”, bringing those online relationships to another level.

I admit, this is something I’ve been working on, but I’m no expert.  Still, I will share an examples of how books and book reviewing are a part of my “real” life.

 Living in Savannah, we are lucky enough to have a fantastic library system.

Live Oak Public Libraries does wonderful things for the area and I support them as much as I can.  When I got married, I asked guests to bring gently used books that I later donated to the library.

I don’t have lots of money to donate but I help in other ways.  Every couple of months I donate books that I have read for review to them.  They often add them to their catalog; and the ones that don’t make it into their Book Sale, which supports their costs as well.  I also wrote an article for Connect Savannah about their annual gala.  I donated the article to the paper and asked the paper to in turn donate my writer’s fee to the library.  The story was picked up by Geek the Library campaign!

 That was one of my favorite “networking”moments!

 

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