Each Little World

Summer reads: 2014

Pioneer Girl by Bich Minh Nguyen: Witty and wily tale of the experiences of the post-college-age daughter of Vietnamese immigrants living in the Midwest. A wicked look inside “Asian” restaurants, sibling rivalries, college lit degrees and what it’s like to be born in the U.S. but not look “American.” All of it filtered through the lens of the Little House on the Prairie books and the lives — literary and hidden — of Laura Ingalls Wilder and her daughter, Rose Wilder Lane. A brilliant concept and beautiful writing.

My Life in Middlemarch by Rebecca Mead: This caught my eye at B&N on my way to buy my favorite UK magazine. I have owned a copy of Middlemarch since 1994. I continually think "I should read that," when I'm not wondering if I should donate it to the library sale. I loved the Masterpiece Theatre adaptation of the book and have watched it many times over the years. But the book has always seemed forbidding until now. Author Rebecca Mead has been reading Middlemarch since she was a teenager and talks about what she saw in the book at differing ages up to middle age. Her book is the equivalent of a semester devoted to the Middlemarch with discussions of characters, motivations, other books and authors at the time Eliot was writing as well as how her life influenced the book. Mead also provides an excellent biography of Eliot, with updates and asides on the many bios and critiques of Eliot that have appeared over the years. A totally satisfying and enjoyable read and perhaps what I've needed to spur me to read Middlemarch itself.

Wake by Anna Hope: Excellent novel of WWI with three interconnecting stories whose characters move in and out of each other’s lives. And a fourth recurring segment describing the search for and burial of the unknown soldier at the 11/11/1920 Cenotaph dedication. The author is a surprisingly young woman who understands — and can movingly describe — a broad group of characters, ages and social strata. Finally a current novel that lived up the reviews.

Molly Fox's Birthday by Deidre Madden: Two of my favorite book bloggers liked this one so I decided to give it a try, and am glad I did. Here'a a link to Book Snob's take on it.

Mrs. Queen Takes the Train by William Kuhn: When I commented on one of my favorite books, An Uncommon Reader, displayed on the counter at Arcadia Books in Spring Green, they suggested I might like Mrs. Queen. It's as funny and charming in its way as "Reader" but with a wider story and cast of characters. Kuhn has written a number of non-fiction works about the monarchy and knows how to deftly speculate about life behind the scenes as well as poke gentle fun at the woman who is queen of all she surveys but hasn't a clue about real life and real people. What happens when she wanders off the Palace grounds wearing a hoodie and carrying her trademark handbag is the perfect summer read.

And I'm giving up on Backstage at the Lincoln Assassination, The Pope and Mussolini, and Not I by Joachim Fest. These are winter books and the garden is calling.

Summer reads

My journalist niece reads a lot of serious books about politics, social issues and the environment and then posts her reviews on Good Reads. We share book titles and comments that way. This is what she said about "The Worst Hard Time:The Untold Story of Those Who Survived the Dust Bowl" by Timothy Egan:

"I didn't really know anything about the Dust Bowl before reading this book. I basically thought it was just a drought that happened during the Great Depression.

The author paints a vivid picture of the misery that overtook a huge swath of the country during those years. Reading about the dust storms that often swept the land into people's homes and the thousands of deaths from "dust pneumonia" was especially horrifying. He also explains how the disaster was very much man-made, exacerbated by bad public policies, over-farming and over-grazing.

Unlike the most famous literary work about that era, "The Grapes of Wrath," this book focuses mostly on people who stayed on their land against all odds, rather than on folks who headed west.

Very well-written and informative."

A few days after reading what Kate had to say, I saw "The Worst Hard Time" on display at my local library. I took it home and couldn't put it down. Here's what I wrote back to Kate:

"I am emotionally exhausted after reading it. Going six weeks with no rain and temps in the 90s and 100s in Madison is enough to freak me out — and that's with air conditioning. 

Then to read this book and, like you, realize these problems were not caused only by drought but man-made as it were. I could hardly believe that people stayed, even though I understood how limited their options were. 

I was especially interested in the early ecology information since it mentioned Aldo Leopold, one of Wisconsin's famous sons. The essay the author refers to is one of the seminal works on the subject of ecology and our interconnectedness to the land and all living creature."

To continue: The stories of the people who lived in the Dust Bowl during the 1930s are compelling and make this a virtual page turner. It's especially worth reading for all of us who've been experiencing this summer's heat and drought to understand how our own short-term thinking and actions can be responsible for unforseen results in the long run. 

In fact, I followed up the book with the movie — "The Plow that Broke the Prairie" — the government produced that is described in the book. It, too, came from my local library. So I got to see some of the actual people mentioned and get an even more shocking sense of the time and place!

The worst storm of the Dust Bowl era — Black Sunday in 1934 — carried blowing dust from the Great Plains eastward, dropping 12 million tons of dust on Chicago. NYC, Washington and even ships 300 miles off the Atlantic coast were blanketed with dust from the plains.

. . .

OTHER NOTEWORTHY TITLES FROM MY SUMMER READING:

"Uprising: How Wisconsin Renewed the Politics of Protest, from Madison to Wall Street" by John Nichols. Nichols at his best: a quick read with a wide-ranging historic approach that sets these events in a larger context, esp. as related to James Madison and the First Amendment and Tom Paine. (Nichols is a former co-worker and long-time friend).

"Voyagers of the Titanic: Passengers, Sailors, Shipbuilders, Aristocrats, and the Worlds They Came From" by Richard Davenport-Hines. I got this from the library thinking it was a photographic history. Wrong; a chunk of photos but not nearly enough for my taste. But an informative book and worth reading; though at times it felt like the anti-"A Night to Remember" by Walter Lord. Most of the people who came off well in Lord’s book suffered a different fate here. In fact, few of the 1st and 2nd glass passengers got much praise from D-H; and he seemed to especially dislike the Americans.

What was most interesting was the information about the ships of the era: their speed, capacity and competition; and his serious look at the third class passengers, their backgrounds, ship accommodations, numbers, and fate. He presents touching letters home mailed at the stops where the ship picked up passengers before it began the main trip; tidbits about the largest group of 2nd class men (all from Cornwall) and about the only black man on board as well as the only Japanese passenger. The descriptions of the crew members, especially those who kept the ship going in the furnace rooms, are memorable. And he publishes quite a bit about the survivors: stats, memories and their later lives. He also talks about the 337 bodies ultimately recovered from the ocean; the book has a photo of one — the only image of this I’ve ever seen.  

"Will in the World: How Shakespeare became Shakespeare" by Stephen Greenblatt

Got this at the Quinn-Ribble garage sale for $3. I’d always wanted to read it, and it was so engrossing and beautifully written that I’m glad I got the hardcover as I am sure I will read it again. Greenblatt looks at all the known facts and documentation about Shakespeare, and operates on the premise that he is the sole author of the works attributed to him. A well-known English lit author and Shakespearian scholar, Greenblatt uses the plays and the history of the period to flesh out Shakespeare’s own story in ways that are sensible and sensitive, and always fascinating. For those who love the Elizabethan era, the book provides an excellent overview of the political and religious goings-on as well. 

Best mystery book of the summer: "The Royal Wulff Murders" by Keith McCafferty. A Montana setting, lots of compelling characters and fly-fishing. What's not to like? My husband is a fly fisherman and ties his own flies so all of this background was easily understandable to me, without any actual fishing experience. One of the premier trout streams in our region is located just outside Madison so all the environmental sub-text of the story was of as much interest as the mystery. This is McCafferty's first novel and I can't wait for the next one.

Summer pleasures: Jane Austen

"Summer afternoon — summer afternoon;

to me those have always been the two most beautiful words

in the English language." 

 — Henry James —

James, of course, is entirely correct. The only thing that could possibly improve a summer afternoon is a little Jane Austen. Or even a lot of Jane Austen. Not long ago, I had the urge to watch the 2008 BBC adaptation of Austen's "Sense and Sensibility." (I much prefer it to the Ang Lee/Emma Thompson version.) Lucky for me there was a copy waiting on the shelf at the public library.

The production was as good as I remembered; perfect casting, costumes and scenery. There seemed to be only a modicum of invention and tampering with Austen's text; notably in setting of the Dashwood's cottage by the sea rather than deeper in the countryside. And I was annoyed again at the attempt to sex-up the off-stage seduction of a character we never meet and who is not even revealed until we're well into the story. 

 

Of course, those things sent me back to the book to see exactly what Austen said and how and where and when. It's at moments like this that I know why I have a matched set of Modern Library editions of Austen's novels on my bookshelf. (I'm only missing P&P to make it a complete set). My re-reading of the story of the Dashwood sisters showed me how subtle Austen can be in setting the scene. I imagined the duel between Willoughby and Col. Brandon was a screen addition but there it was in the book; high drama though less obviously so in Austen's hands. And I marveled again at how well the cast of "Sense & Sensibility" meshed with Austen's characterizations in the novel. 

While I was at the library picking up the Austen DVD, I took a quick look at the new books shelf where the title, "Jane's Fame," jumped out at me. I grabbed it on the assumption that there is only one Jane who is so famous she needs no introduction. (Well, maybe two if you count Tarzan's inamorta). And indeed the book looks at "How Jane Austen Conquered the World."

Part biography, part history and mystery, author Claire Harman looks at Austen from every angle and every era. There are so many versions and re-visions of Austen that this is an excellent way to discover what is fact, fiction and pure fantasy. Harman covers everything from likenesses of Austen, to all the different editions of her books, to who in the Austen family dealt with publishers and whether Jane cared about making money from her writing (the family said no, but Jane said otherwise in her letters). 

All of the backstory about Austen's immediate family and descendants, the years spent trying to get her books into print etc., can get a bit overwhelming. What I found of most interest as a contemporary reader of Austen is how she came to be part of the canon, or canonized to be more accurate. Harman looks at how changing tastes in both literature and literary criticism aided Austen's fame. Until about fifteen years ago all surges of interest in Austen were related to anniversaries or publication of newly discovered documents.

But the 1995 film version of P&P with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth sparked an interest in Austen that has not abated. We are in an era of all Austen, all the time. There's the multiplication of treatments of the novels on screen, the entire literary genre of Austen-influenced romance novels (think Georgette Heyer), Austen take-offs ("Clueless," "Lost in Austen"), Austen compilations on YouTube, and Austen herself and her fictional characters now appear in countless other novels. Though I admit to being an Austen addict, I draw the line at zombies. 

We are no longer particular, says Harman, where or how we get our Austen — as long as we get it! Reading "Jane's Fame" is not quite as much fun as reading Austen herself, but it will go a long way towards helping you understand your own Austen addiction.

 

If you've never seen Andrew Davies' adaptation of "Sense and Sensibility" here's the PBS trailer for the DVD which will give you a feeling for both the story and the production without giving anything away.

Summer reading: More catching up

RANDOM HARVEST: I love 1940s movies — the era of great stars and melodramatic weepers. Case in point: Greer Garson and Ronald Colman in "Random Harvest." The movie, with two strong romantic leads, sent me in search of the 1941 book by James Hilton. Hilton is the author of two other classic book into movie transformations: "Good-Bye, Mr. Chips" (with Garson) and "Lost Horizon" (with Colman).

"Random Harvest" is the tale of industrial tycoon Charles Rainier, who remembers nothing after the German attack that wounded him in 1917. That event turned him into an almost mute amnesiac sent home from the front to a mental hospital. A car accident unexpectedly restores his memory in 1920 — except for those three missing years. 

The book is a mystery story whose answers are slowly revealed to Rainier at the same time as they're revealed to us, literally until the last page. The film, however, opens with the tale of those missing years. We always know where Rainier's been and what happened. The suspense in the film comes from our foreknowledge as we wait and watch, wondering if Rainier will recover the secret of those lost years before it's too late. 

Book or movie? I'd do both since one of the most enjoyable aspects of each format is comparing and contrasting the way each medium requires the story to unfold in a specific way that works best for readers or viewers.

 

RETURN TO GONE-AWAY: I found this little paperback a few years ago and stuck it on the bookshelves where it's languished until we had to empty the shelves for our remodeling project. It is the companion to the kid lit classic, "Gone-Away Lake." That's the story of three children who discover the remnants of a 19th century resort community built around a country lake that has disappeared and is now mostly bog. There's natural history, mystery, quirky characters, and nice family interactions. I was a young teen when I first read it and it still occupies a little corner of my brain reserved for time-travel dreams. 

Though nothing can replace the thrill of reading the original book the first time, the sequel has its merits. Here we find the family from "Gone-Away" moving into one of the derelict mansions, the fantasy of many of us who love architecture and interior design. It's a perfect little read for a summer afternoon. 

A  couple of things in particular struck me while reading this as an adult: the description of the natural world, including garden plants, and the vocabulary. Big words are sprinkled throughout which probably makes it seem a very grown up book to youthful readers. I can't be absolutely sure, but I am guessing that this is where I first encountered tatterdemalion and ingenuous. The sequel is charmingly illustrated with pen and ink drawings by Beth and Joe Krush, who also illustrated the first book. 

Summer reading: catching up

We've had such a rainy summer that a lot of gardening time has morphed into reading time. No real complaints; saves me having to water and gives me a rest between manic bouts of gardening. Three recent reads offer something for everyone. First up: Kathryn Stockett's "The Help."

Recent college grad, Skeeter, feels stifled at home with her highly critical mother and with her married friends whose lives are centered around Junior League, bridge and criticizing The Help. This is 1962 Jackson, Mississippi and even middle class families have colored maids: the help. The story centers on two of the black maids and Skeeter, all told in first person in chapters alternating among the three voices. The maids speak in dialect, a risky gamble by Stockett that works and makes the maids — Aibileen and Minny — leap off the page.

Skeeter and her family are equally well-drawn but her friends — most of whom we're not supposed to like — seem stiff and middle-aged. As someone who was like Skeeter — tall, skinny, smart and wore glasses — I thought Stockett's portrayal of this dateless, ugly duckling rang true. But as a "Yankee" who was in high school when the story unfolds, I found it hard to imagine how divorced Skeeter and her friends are from what's happening in their community and across the South. We were mesmerized by the nightly news from 'Ole Miss and Birmingham and elsewhere. They don't want to know.

 

Skeeter's ticket out of town and this life is a job in NYC publishing. As she begins to see the black maids who surround her as people, all of whom have stories to tell, Skeeter realizes she has the makings of a book if she can get enough maids to tell their tales about working for the white ladies. Of course, it's worth their jobs — if not their lives — to sit at the same table as this white girl, let along speak their minds. 

The black and white men both fall into stereotypes as does Skeeter's best friend, the book's nominal villain. She's more crazy than evil, which is what this story is about at it's heart: white women who turn their children over to black women to be nurtured, loved, raised and taught by them. And yet regard that same "help" as sub-human. Holding those two contradictory ideas at once is bound to unhinge you eventually, or so it seems to me.

Having grown up during this era, Stockett's references rang true. All the attention to home and etiquette, clothes and make-up was the norm for women no matter which side of the Mason-Dixon line you lived on. "The Help" is a satisfying read even if the all the loose ends are tied up a little too neatly. 

If you're looking for the darker side of the story of relations between black and white women in an earlier era in the South, you'll find it in "Property," which I reviewed here.

Summer mystery: Why Shoot a Butler?

"The butler did it" is such a staple of mystery writing (and parlor games and jokes) that doing in the butler in the opening pages of "Why Shoot a Butler?" clearly identifies Georgette Heyer as an inventive author — and one not above writing with tongue firmly in cheek. This classic country house mystery is prime Heyer territory filled with a strong sense of of time, place and character. 

If you're not familiar with Heyer, she's the author I turn to when I need a break from re-reading Jane Austen. Her characters all have a strong independent streak, are intelligent and witty and able to deal with almost any eventuality. Most of her books are set in the early 19th century, a period she knows so well that her novel of Waterloo — "An Infamous Army" — has been used as a text at Sandhurst.  

I've read almost all of Heyer's novels at least once. If I woke up in Regency England I'd know what a tiger does with a yard of tin. Her books are so steeped in the events and slang of that era, that it never occurred to me she might be equally adept at writing in another genre and era. "Why Shoot a Butler" is my first foray into this new territory and the 1930s country house setting was a romp. 

There's the sleuthing barrister, the damsel in distress, the shady staff at the great house, lots of cocktails and smooth cars. The mystery is plausible, though I did not figure it out. I did, however, manage to catch a few clues. And it had all the things that make for a good read: words that were new and unfamiliar and required looking up; throwaway references to both historical events and classic characters in literature; bits of trivia about the running of an estate and wonderful names like Upper Nettlefold. 

A good read for a rainy afternoon at the lake house.

Summer reading: Miss Buncle's Book

Barbara Buncle has me beaming.

Actually it's Miss Buncle's book that's put the smile on my face. That is, DE Stevenson's 1934 novel, "Miss Buncle's Book," which tells the story of the unassuming but highly observant Barbara Buncle, who pens a best-selling roman a clef about her country town.

Published as "Disturber of the Peace," under the nome de plume John Smith, the book has that exact effect on her neighbors, with its healthy dose of wit and irony in its depictions of the personalities and goings on of sleepy little Silverstream aka Copperfield. In the second part of "Disturber," however, Miss Buncle gives free reign to her imagination, fantasizing a Golden Boy whose music has an incendiary effect on some of the townsfolk.

The endpapers in "Miss Buncle's Book" are taken from "Flower vase lit by rays from a table lamp," a screen-printed cotton and rayon designed by Vanessa Bell for Allan Walton Textiles in 1934.

"Disturber" becomes a best seller to the dismay of the more officious and hypocritical members of the community who threaten libel suits and determine to unmask John Smith, going to lengths that Miss Buncle's publisher considers stranger than fiction. 

Stevenson's Miss Buncle is a first cousin to Winifred Watson's Miss Pettigrew. They're both unappreciated women of a certain age who draw on unsuspected reserves of creativity and intelligence to pull themselves out of dire financial straits. In the process, they transform themselves and those around them — to the endless delight of this reader. It seems amazing to never have heard of Stevenson, given that four million copies of her books were sold in Britain and three million in the U.S. between 1923 and 1970. Thanks again to Persephone for providing another perfect read.

Miss Buncle's Golden Boy graces the cover of this early edition of the book. Persephone's reprint, of course, is clothed in its distinctive discrete grey covers.

Two bloggers are having a Read a Persephone Book week next month for all you fans of the publisher. I still have a couple of unread titles on my shelf so I may try to join in.

Summer reading: Austen addicts

"I do not know how I have come to be in this time, in this place, in this body. But I do know that any place where there are six novels by the author of "Pride and Prejudice" must be a very special sort of heaven.

— "Rude Awakenings of a Jane Austen Addict

My favorite read of last summer was Laurie Viera Rigler's novel, "Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict." I admit right up front that I read it straight through, read it again immediately and then bought it for a friend. Courtney Stone, the Austen addict of the title and 21st century resident of L.A., wakes up one morning in Austen's world. Since she's in the body — complete with voice and mannerisms — of a young woman of the era, her vociferous protestations about who she really is are met by her 'family' with disbelief and anger, almost landing her in an asylum; a fate much worse than merely being a powerless 18th century female. 

Last summer's offering was so smart and funny that I had no doubt about Rigler's ability to do it again. Thus I bought her just-released hardcover book, "Rude Awakenings of a Jane Austen Addict," without even glancing at the jacket. So I was a bit chagrined when I opened the book and realized it was the tale of what befell the other woman: Jane Mansfield, a perfect Austen name as well as a bit of L.A. humor. 

I'm like anyone who picked up the first book: A big Jane Austen fan who likes to fantasize about life in Regency England. Reverse time travel — from then to now — is much less appealing to me because I live now. I confess I expected the book to be all "Kate & Leopold" jokes and slapstick humor about modern conveniences. Instead Rigler does what she did so well in the first book; she makes you think (along with her protagonists) about the nature of time, of appearance vs. reality, of how to live in the present no matter when that is.

Of course, you can't have an 18th century English woman wake up in L.A without some humor. But it's more amusing and far less silly in print than it would have to be in a film version of this story. And once our heroine learns about computers — and Google — she can educate herself about things that confuse her much more easily than her counterpart, who must rely on what she read before she arrived in the past and what she can deduce through subtle questioning.

Like Austen, Rigler's books are mainly abut social interactions; a subject that's equally interesting and confusing no matter the era. Courtney, along with the book's readers, knows what was expected of an 18th century single woman. But imagine trying to navigate today's social and sexual mores; it's a minefield — even for those of us who actually live now!

"Rude Awakenings" sent me back to "Confessions" again to refresh myself on the characters and events in both eras, since the longer these women are out of their own time, the more their own distinct personality is subsumed by that of the woman whose body they inhabit. That realization and what to do about it are what make both books absorbing. "Whose life is it" is the critical question. And do you make decisions based on what you want or what might be best for the other woman — who may yet return. 

Since the subject is time travel, the stories do contain a not-unexpected element of magic realism, which doesn't overwhelm or detract from the reality of the events. And what does each woman consider most enviable about the era in which she finds herself? Our contemporary heroine luxuriates in the quiet of a life without constant noise, while the 18th century woman is appreciative of water on demand, reading without candles and more Austen novels than existed when she left home.

Courtney and Jane are two young women who seem like they would never be friends if they lived in the same era; despite the fact that each one's life is in disarray. Yet they each learn from the other: How to think about themselves and the world in ways neither imagined in her former life.