The Cue Card

Hi. I hope everyone is doing well and settling in to September. The days are going quickly now. The kids around town here are in school, which sort of surprises me. They are trying to control the Covid outbreaks. Meanwhile we woke up to our first frost on Tuesday morning but luckily had our tomato plants covered. Now the warm afternoons have returned and the days are pretty here. I feel for the Western states that are contending with wildfires and terrible smoke. It’s awful to see. San Francisco looks dark with an eerie red tinge. My sister is sending us updates of conditions there … and my brother’s place luckily just missed a wildfire in Montana. Yikes. 

Meanwhile it’s a bit hard to believe Labor Day has passed and summer is pretty much over.  I’ve been looking back and thinking about which novel seemed to be the must-summer read of the season this year … and which novel I saw most talked about around the blogosphere. I don’t think I’m going out on a limb to say that Brit Bennett’s novel “The Vanishing Half” is likely one I saw a lot of. It was everywhere for a while: on blogs, book-author virtual talks, Bookstagram, TV and newspapers. It came out in early June and pretty much took off. Many readers it seemed wanted to see how Bennett followed up her 2016 debut “The Mothers” … and this one proved to be as good if not even better. 

But what makes a book a must-summer read? It doesn’t mean it’s necessarily the best book of the year … I think it just means it usually conjures up issues and perhaps has a couple surprises. It has to be quite readable and a bit of a page-turner. I don’t think it necessarily has to be a thriller or popular fiction … even though it’s summertime.  But for whatever reason word about it has to get around and spread. It has to have momentum. And I think for “The Vanishing Half” it did … and the timing was right … in a summer with current events leading to renewed calls for racial justice and equality.  Someone on Goodreads called it the essential book club book … and perhaps it is.  I just finished it and my review of it — along with another novel — is below.  But first:  What did you think was the most read and talked about novel this summer? Hmm. 

The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett / Riverhead / 350 pages / 2020 

I can’t say I knew a lot about the experience of “passing” … in terms of one person of a certain race passing for another, or in this case, a person of color assimilating into the white majority to escape the legal and social conventions of racial discrimination … but I have read novels that touch (maybe even if tangentially) on such themes, such as Toni Morrison’s “The Bluest Eye,” Ralph Ellison’s “The Invisible Man” and last year’s novel “We Cast a Shadow” by Maurice Carlos Ruffin. 

“The Vanishing Half” is another that really opened my eyes to what it means to “pass” racially as another. The novel makes a compelling story surrounding the identities of twin sisters from a small Southern town (Mallard, Louisiana) known for its very light skinned blacks, who run away at 16 (haunted by their father’s lynching in the 1940s) and eventually go their own separate ways: one living as herself a black woman (Desiree), and the other secretly passing as white (Stella) and reinventing herself in Los Angeles. 

The story goes on to explore how their daughters are also affected by skin tones and Stella’s secret: Desiree’s daughter Jude is dark and self-conscious (and falls for Reese a transgender male), and Stella’s daughter Kennedy, unaware of her mother’s secret, is blond and blue-eyed and becomes an actress (like her mother, who is superb at play-acting who she really is).

It’s a story that shows the toll “passing” can take on a close-knit family and generationally. Yet it’s hard to blame Stella totally for wanting the freedom she feels passing as white … though her choices are frustrating and painful along the way (at one point she’s at a party of whites publicly castigating African American neighbors who move into the house across the street … who she’s actually befriended in private to play with her daughter).  

It’s a story that’s well told and and each of the four main characters — Desiree and Stella and their daughters — propel the story forward through the decades from the 1950s to the ’90s … as you follow them where they live and with their jobs and love interests. Their partners are given interesting shrift — Mr. Early with Desiree and Reese with Jude — are particularly alluring. And you start turning pages in a flurry to see how the lie of Stella’s race will play out … and whether there will be a public or family reckoning … or what will happen. 

All around it’s an excellent read, and its themes and various layers: about identity, race, and reinvention are thought-provoking without being overly heavy. Perhaps reinvention never seemed so possible. See what you think, if you haven’t already.

Ps. I did catch the author’s book chat with the Los Angeles Times Book Club and it was enjoyable to listen to Brit Bennett speak about the themes and the characters and how she wrote about them in the novel. You can catch it here.

The Pull of the Stars by Emma Donoghue / Little Brown / 305 pages / 2020 

A lot of research into the 1918 Flu in Dublin and obstetrics must have gone into the writing of this novel, and I admire how much the author put into the time period. The story takes place in a maternity ward where several pregnant woman are quarantined with the Flu at the hospital. There’s Nurse Julia Power, who in time is joined by volunteer helper Bridie Sweeney who was raised and ill-treated as an orphan at an Irish-Catholic convent, as well as Dr. Kathleen Lynn (the story’s only real historical figure), an activist involved with the radical Sinn Féin party. Together they work to bring babies and mothers through harsh deliveries … where birth and death often seem never too far apart. 

This one is quite a medical novel and realistic depictions of birthing babies during the much more rudimentary days of medicine are evident on every page. I’m not exactly quickly squeamish, but I almost went down a few times reading parts of these harsh deliveries. (It seems the flu enhanced premature births.) Early on, I thought is there more of a story here or is it just a medical journal of what happened during that 1918 pandemic in Dublin? Luckily the characters unfold a bit more and you get a sense of Nurse Julia, who is grappling with who she is on her 30th birthday and where her life is headed … during a pandemic that was much worse than ours. The story balances Julia’s inner thoughts with her relations with Bridie and Dr. Lynn as they’re in the thick of things at the hospital.

Scary days for sure. I read at the back of the book … that the author wrote this novel before the Covid pandemic started so the timing was purely coincidental. But the similarities are there … and I was interested to read the novel because I wanted to hear more about the 1918 Flu … in light of what we’re facing now and get a view from healthcare workers who really are on the frontlines of saving us in times like these. They are the heroes … and have been every day since this began … as they are in this novel.

This was my first Emma Donoghue read (who describes herself as Irish Canadian) … and I hear her books are all a bit dark and gruesome but her research and writing are exquisitely done. “The Pull of the Stars” felt sort of like a slim slice of life novel that puts you right into the time and setting without sugarcoating much of what you’re going to face. The novel’s title comes from an old Italian belief — where influenza gets its name — that it was the influence of the stars that made you sick. “As if, when it’s your time, your star gives you a yank,” explains Julia to Bridie. I can’t say the novel was entirely enjoyable (as it is medically a bit dark), but it was quite an eye-opening and affecting story and I’m glad I read it.

Just a footnote: the author doesn’t use quotation marks in the novel … and on the whole it didn’t bother me too much. Most times it seemed evident when there was dialogue and who was talking … but there were just a few times when I had to reread a passage to make it more clear to me. For more on the novel and the author, check out this recent Zoom interview with her here.

What about you — have you read these books or authors, and if so, what did you think?

Hi. I hope you all are well. Sorry I’ve been AWOL from the blog lately as I went through a time where I didn’t finish much reading. I was busy while at my parents’ place in Southern California trying to get things done and where it was sweltering at 112 F. Though since I’ve returned to Canada a week ago, there’s been a hint of fall in the air and also some smoke from wildfires west of us in British Columbia, Idaho, and Oregon.

Hmm … I haven’t experienced too much as the quarantine rule after international travel means I have to stay on our property for 14 long days (see my office gym at left, ha). Ugh, it’s like prison, I can’t even walk the dog, but it’s the price I pay for flying. Honestly, I’d rather just get tested, but they require the 14 days regardless. Interestingly I see the CDC in the U.S. has just dropped this quarantine-travel rule, but I don’t think it will go away here anytime soon as Canadians mean business about keeping Covid spread low.

It’s okay I’ll make it. I already have one week in the bag and each day I’m closing in on the finish line. I have no symptoms and I’m cleaning out drawers and doing yard work, see our lovely cherry tomatoes and cucumbers from the backyard. We’ve been getting a daily haul of these.

Luckily pro tennis has returned to the TV and so I can avoid the diabolical RNC convention. It’s hard listening to most of these speeches, is it not? Seems like terrible nails down a chalkboard to me. Meanwhile I finished a couple crime novels as audiobooks. I’m not usually a big crime / thriller kind of reader but in summer I’ll pick up a couple, especially after “The Great Believers” and a few others — I needed a lighter palate cleanser. When you need something fast and not too deep, they can hit the mark. Here’s my reviews of a couple below.

Blacktop Wasteland by S.A. Cosby / Flatiron Books / 304 pages / 2020

This is quite the crime heist, high-octane novel and from its tagline: “A husband, a father, a son, a business owner… And the best getaway driver east of the Mississippi” … you know you’re in for a wild ride.

The protagonist is Beauregard “Bug” Montage, an African American man who’s a good father to his three kids and husband to wife #2 and owns a garage in Virginia where he works on cars with his cousin Kelvin. As the story begins, he gets in debt on numerous bills for his family members (including for his mother’s nursing home), and he’s soon lured back to the kind of crime activity he learned from his long-ago disappeared father, racing cars. For Bug, being the getaway driver in a jewelry store heist seems to be the answer to his problems, but he soon finds out that the heist with a couple not too bright local bros, didn’t go down all as planned and there’s a lot of unfinished business that comes knocking. Uh-oh.

There’s some raw storytelling here and some strong Southern grit that touches on areas of poverty, racism, and the underbelly of Virginia. It’s a story that is rated R if you’re squeamish to bad language and violence, which comes mostly near the end. I got caught up in Bug’s family story and plight and the characters who interact with him and seek his help. He’s a true “car head” and family man, but the memory of his father and his demons are never too far behind. Like his second wife, I wanted him to stay clean but he gets pulled back in … to earn the cash … and then Bug is no longer the squeaky clean guy we hoped … but is one heck of a driver and one smart, mean fighter.

The ending has a couple car chases and violent scenes that will make you run for cover! There’s a lot of action that is really well told. I was pretty gripped. I had sympathy for Bug and his wife and kids but then parts of him seemed a bit violent too, so he’s sort of a protagonist whose choices make you not love him unequivocally. He’s got baggage and is quite the flawed anti-hero. I’m thinking maybe Bug might return for another book. This appears to be a breakthrough for author S.A. Cosby, who expanded on the character from a short story in 2015, and who hails from southwestern Virginia.

I listened to “Blacktop Wasteland” as an audiobook read by Adam Lazarre-White, who does a terrific job with all the characters — the bad guys and the good ones — and leads you on a chase that will leave you crawling through the broken glass and ashes … wherever you are.

Girls Like Us by Cristina Alger / G.P. Putnam’s Sons / 288 pages / 2019

I needed something quick and not too heavy after “The Great Believers” and a couple other reads and the audiobook of this novel fit the bill. It’s a crime story set on Long Island about an FBI agent (Nell Flynn) who returns home from DC after her father dies in a motorcycle wreck and she ends up getting involved in solving a case there … of two working girls who are found murdered.

I liked how the story becomes personal to Nell … whose mother was murdered long ago, and whose father — a homicide cop killed in a recent crash — she wonders about his involvement with in the current case. It involves the collision between the poorer sides of Long Island (where Nell grew up) with the rich sides with their mansions and lavish parties.

The story was all well and good, but it didn’t overly stand out to me amid other crime novels … it kept me entertained for a while and then eventually it was over … and could be tossed behind me. Some of the plot reminded me a bit of Jeffrey Epstein’s luring of young girls … and crimes … and I wonder if the author took it from that. Perhaps she did … as I recall reading the author’s 2012 novel “The Darlings” about a Ponzi scheme and the Wall Street financial meltdown that reminded me of the Bernie Madoff scandal. She seems good at these stories ripped from the headlines. You recall them, so you’re a bit tuned in, waiting for more.

That’s all for now. What about you — have you read any good crime novels or thrillers this summer, and if so which ones? And how are you doing in your neck of the woods?

Hello. I hope everyone is doing well. I finally made it to my parent’s house in Southern California and have been enjoying my stay with them, so I have been a bit busy and away from the blogosphere. It’s inland on the way to the desert so it is very hot here … not a drop of humidity … just pure blistering heat. It’s beautiful though and the views of the mountains are awesome. Luckily we are not too near the “Apple Fire,” which broke out more than a week ago and isn’t yet contained. It’s burning thousands of acres (east of us) in the San Gorgonio mountains and also destroyed four homes in Cherry Valley. Hmm. But we carry on here as the water fire-fighting planes fly over head. Cross your fingers the fire season doesn’t get worse. I have another week here then will fly back North. Meanwhile below are a few reviews of backlist novels I recently finished. You might have read these. 

The Great Believers by Rebecca Makkai / Viking / 432 pages / 2018 

Yea, I finally got to this big (!) novel, which many considered one of the best novels of 2018. Indeed it’s an epic AIDS saga that captures the early days of the epidemic in the mid-1980s … as well as years later showing the devastating impact of the disease on survivors whose loved ones died from it. 

It was interesting to me to read and revisit the peak of HIV/AIDS during the 1980s while we’re experiencing the new Covid pandemic. During the 1980’s rise of AIDS, the infected (most of whom were mainly gay men) were often ostracized and left to die. The discrimination and suffering that HIV/AIDS patients faced was often so brutal, which this story captures so well and reminds us.

I listened to “The Great Believers” for two weeks as an audiobook (read superbly by Michael Crouch) and at first its story and characters didn’t really reach out to me but as it went on I became increasingly drawn into their plight. Maybe it didn’t grab me initially because the plot is less action-filled and more filled with character development, setting, and the interaction … among a close-knit group of friends and lovers in Chicago who gather as the story begins at a funeral for one of them who has died of an AIDS-related illness. 

The story features a colorful cast of young men who you soon get to know well: none more than the protagonist Yale Tishman, who in 1985 wants to buy a house with his longterm partner, Charlie, and is trying to acquire a set of 1920s paintings that he hopes will put the Chicago gallery he works for on the map.

There’s also a second alternating storyline set in 2015 about Fiona Marcus, who was a part of the 1980’s Chicago group — the sister whose beloved brother had died — who comes to Paris looking for her estranged daughter who disappeared years ago into a cult. While there, Fiona struggles with how AIDS impacted her life and her relations with her daughter.

This second storyline, which I gather from Goodreads reviews many readers didn’t like as much as the main Yale Tishman story, grabbed me in ways because of Fiona’s internal search as a mother and how the storylines intertwine and eventually connect. I liked Fiona quite a bit (perhaps my favorite in the novel) though her daughter Claire, who’s pretty awful to her, is really strangle-worthy. 

I also liked how the storylines incorporated events that happened during those years, such as the Space Shuttle disaster of 1986 and the 2015 terrorist attacks in Paris. It puts you right there and by the end of the book I was sure these characters were real. Author Rebecca Makkai  outdoes herself bringing them to life through perceptive dialogue, great lines, and the feel and facets of those times.  

As it goes on, the story delves into the relationships, betrayals, and interactions among the Chicago group as many in their gay circle begin dying from the disease. It’s harsh, sad, and  powerfully unfolds (amid the two alternating storylines) to be an emotional story that builds and delivers a cumulative heart punch by the end. 

“The Great Believers” is quite an impressive book, which surprised me a bit since I wasn’t a big fan of Rebecca Makkai’s 2014 novel “The Hundred Year House” … which sort of lost me along the way amid its multi-timelines and many characters. My only warning about the “Believers” novel and author is that she likes to write long and she goes on at length during chapters you thought were on the verge of ending quite awhile back … so one can not be in a hurry with “The Great Believers.” You have to lap up the novel slowly and let its wake wash over you. If you do, your heart will be squeezed and you will remember all too well the crises and pain that AIDS wrought. 

PS. This novel is being made into a TV series, but so far I haven’t seen any mention of who will be in it …or when it is due out. It is still in development. 

The Map of Salt and Stars by Zeyn Joukhadar / Atria / 368 pages / 2018

Much is absorbing and rich about this novel that alternates storylines and chapters between one modern-day story about a girl named Nour and her family fleeing the Syrian civil war … and the other about a 12th-century girl (Rawiya) who disguises herself as a boy to apprentice with a famous mapmaker who plans a long journey to chart regions and routes. Both storylines follow the same geographical areas though are 800 years apart! 

The story of the 12th-century mapmaker is based on an actual historical figure and was a favorite story of Nour’s father who has recently died from cancer as the novel begins in New York City.

After his death, Nour’s mother moves the Syrian-American family with older sisters Huda and Zahra back to Homs, Syria, where they have relatives to help out. But then the war ensues and they flee on a long dangerous journey from Syria to try to get to Ceuta, Spain through: Jordan, Egypt, Libya, and Algeria. Oh my, their travels are not easy … as are the parallel story’s of the map apprentice’s 12th-century journey.

I liked how the novel brings an empathetic spotlight to the plight of Syrian refugees (such as Nour’s family) on the run. And much of it brings home all the dangers and injustices they face — as well as the countries/regions they travel through, whose whereabouts I followed along with thanks to the book cover’s inside map. 

Nour — who misses her father and former life in New York — is a pretty captivating young protagonist navigating the journey and trying to protect her family. The other 12th-century storyline (about the disguised girl and mapmaker) was interesting as well but in the long run didn’t grip me to its chapters as much as the modern-day Syrian storyline. Both storylines also wrap up at the end a bit too tidy and too much … and there were parts to me that seemed unbelievable. Perhaps the novel had too much stuffed into it or tried to do too much to finish. Still I liked its analogy and symbolism of mapmaking or drawing maps in order to find one’s home … for the two inspiring female protagonists who had lost theirs.

PS. I just learned that this author is transitioning as transgender — so he goes now by Zeyn Joukhadar, which happened after the 2018 hardback came out. Apparently a trans boy will be a bit in the storyline of his next novel “The Thirty Names of Night” due out in November. 

The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey / Reagan Arthur Books / 400 pages / 2012

Yes, yes and yes. I finally got to this debut novel that was much talked about when it came out in 2012. Its story swept me up into the cold Alaskan wilderness with all its harsh splendor and struggle for survival (while I read it strangely enough at the beach!). The story is set in the 1920s about a married childless couple (Mable & Jack) who come to a remote outpost in Alaska from back East to live in a cabin and try their hand at farming but have no idea how hard it will be. 

It almost breaks them and sends them packing but for the help of neighbors (the Bensons) and a magical young nature girl who appears to them apparently from the woods after one snowy night the couple spends building a snow figure in their front yard. From early on, you don’t know if the girl the couple sees in glimpses around their cabin and woods (who often hunts with a red fox by her side) is really real or if she is in their imaginations from having cabin fever and losing a child of their own. But on and on the story goes of their lives near the woods and with their neighbors, the Bensons, who sort of tease the couple about their talk of such a girl. 

The story has a fairy tale quality to it … a bit like the fairy tale book the woman (Mable) treasures from her youth called The Snow Maiden. The couple so badly wanted a child so this snow girl is the light of their lives. I won’t say anymore about what happens as they all grow older — though one of the Benson’s boys grows fond of the girl too — but will say it’s a story that touches on the older couple’s marriage and being a parent, and about the wilderness girl or fairy who comes into their lives — all set against the Alaskan wilderness, which is described so fully and wonderfully in this novel. 

You can feel the cold and remoteness and the trees, weather, and seasons. I will warn some that the story takes its sweet time as it ambles along at its own pace, playing out in short chapters of their lives farming and trying to get by, but I was captivated from beginning to end. I liked the outback and survival feel to it … as well as its fairy tale aspects. It’s just a good story, plain and simple.

It makes me want to read Eowyn Ivey’s 2016 novel “To the Bright Edge of the World,” which apparently is another enticing adventure-ish tale. 

That’s all for now. What about you — what’s going on in your neck of the woods? And have you read any of these — and if so, what did you think?

Hi all. I hope everyone is doing well. I made it through my flight from Canada to LAX airport last Monday (everyone was wearing a mask, woohoo), and I have been doing okay sheltering in place near the beach at the OC. It’s been foggy in the mornings but burns off in the afternoons to blue skies. Things could be worse but I’m glad they’re not. I’m keeping safe until I can go visit my folks about an hour away. I actually have a Covid test appointment tomorrow though I have no symptoms or anything — just trying to make sure I’m clear beforehand. Not sure how long it will take to get the results, but I will find out at the test. Meanwhile I’m trying to keep sane with books, virtual exercise classes, the Tennis Channel (why doesn’t Canada have this?!), chores, and one short isolated walk per day with a mask. I feel fine — and the trip on a pretty empty plane went better than I expected. 

What is everybody reading these days?  Summer books? Light or heavy reads? New or old books? Or a bit of everything?  I brought in my carry-on six print books (five of them fiction) and an e-reader, so I’m pretty covered. Most of these are backlist novels that slipped by me over the years and I still had sitting on my shelves. They’ve been waiting patiently and now the time has come. But first, I had to finish off Elizabeth Strout’s sequel “Olive, Again,” which I listened to as an audiobook and then I read it in print. Sometimes I do that if I’m not ready to leave a book. I’ll do it twice, and memorize it a bit, ha. I was impressed that actress Kimberly Farr was able to envelop all that is Olive Kitteridge so well. That’s a tall order, but she really nailed the narrative. Sometimes such audio narrations can be even better than what you can do in your own reading. It can happen though it’s not all the time. And now, I’ll leave you with my thoughts on it.

Olive, Again by Elizabeth Strout / Random House / 293 pages / 2019

It’s safe to say: You’re either an Olive person, or you’re not … and that’s Okay. You don’t have to beat yourself up if you’re not. I loved Olive in this one and I don’t even remember a lot about the first “Olive Kitteridge” novel, which won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, as I read it back in 2008 when it came out. But I do recall it brings to life a gruff and blunt speaking older lady named Olive — who’s a retired schoolteacher living in a small coastal town in Maine — as she interacts with her husband Henry, a pharmacist, and her one grown son Christopher, and the other townspeople around her.  

You don’t really need to remember it well to pick up with Olive (again). Like with the first book, this novel is made up of 13 interlocking stories of characters in the fictional town of Crosby, Maine (which was named after Strout’s college roommate by the way). Some chapters feature Olive and others have her on the periphery. 

The story picks up where it left off and sees Olive into her golden years. She’s a widow (after Henry passes away) and her grown married son Christopher (who comes to visit with his family in one tense chapter) lives in NYC. Olive remarries (who would believe!) Jack Kennison, who’s a bit of a dumpy endearing guy (her age), a widow too (with one gay daughter) and a former Harvard professor who was let go there after an affair with another prof. He’s perfect for Olive and loves her mostly as she is. (The first chapter about Jack getting ticketed by a cop is priceless.) And then Olive eventually outlives him and goes to an assisted living place. Along the way, the chapters include various people in the town who know Olive in ways … seemingly their stories include pretty dark, seedy problems, which surprised me. There’s abuse, suicide, drugs, cancer victims, lonely poets, affairs, and generally people coping with loss, death, and old age. Holy smokes, isn’t anyone run-of-the-mill there? 

There’s even characters from Strout’s other novels that interestingly make appearances here such as the Burgess Boys and Amy and Isabelle. Then there’s Olive trying to reassess her own life and herself a bit. And although she’s her usual blunt and gruff self in some of this, she also seems quite a bit softer than in the original book. Her edges have been smoothed, and she has Jack, husband #2, who adds a lot to the book. Olive helps people in subtle ways; she busts into their lives and makes her thoughts known. She cares despite of herself … and so there is light in this book too … on top of the dark. I found many lines in it quite funny and had to laugh … with Olive being Olive and Jack being Jack, too.

However she does it, Strout  is a gem of a writer who wields all these experiences and thoughts together with authentic characters: both real and fallible, warts and all. 

That’s all for now. What about you — have you read this or any of Strout’s books — or what’s happening in your neck of the woods? 

Hi. I hope everyone is doing well and had a good week. The big news is that this Monday I’m going to: (a) travel (b) cross the border (c) fly (d) all of the above. Yikes, I’m headed into the storm that is the Covid spread. I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t necessary, but I need and would like to check in with my parents who my siblings and I are rotating visits with. And so I’m flying direct to Los Angeles masked-up and with sanitizer and then will quarantine alone for the allotted time in one place … before eventually going on to stay with them in another.

It’s complicated right? And the numbers in parts of the U.S. are not looking good. We’ve had a little spike here in western Canada the past week but nothing comparatively. If all goes well, I’ll be there a month and then return home to quarantine back in the North Country. See the Wild Prickly Rose pictured above … it’s the official provincial flower of Alberta. 

I feel committed to steering clear of Covid … as en route I’ll be masked and geared up and once I arrive I’ll go into quarantine, staying inside alone for the allotted time. So we will go from there. It’s just something people need to do now. Have you traveled lately and done this? I’m not exactly looking forward to the procedure … but it’ll be great to see family. Meanwhile I’ve been busy this past week getting ready. My mind has been a bit distracted to read much, but audiobooks continue to keep me company during dog walks, yard work, and chores. Where would we do without audios? 

Meanwhile the thunderstorms lately have been quite strong here; luckily they happen mostly during the evening hours, when we run around closing windows quickly. Which reminds me … did anyone catch Mary Trump on the Rachel Maddow show last night? Her book sold nearly a million copies the first day … holy smokes. So does that bode well for the election or not? I guess I don’t need to read her book to know … what we face with this president … but I support her for putting it out there. And I remain hopeful for change in November. 

In other book news, I see that the publishing industry is moving more to diversify its ranks with new top executives at Simon & Schuster, Pantheon, and elsewhere. The New York Times article “In Publishing Everything Is Up for Change,” which came out this week, describes a “rare moment of transformation that promises to influence the books put out into the world.” “Ten years from now, I don’t think anything will look the same,” said Reagan Arthur, who was named publisher at Knopf in January. According to a diversity survey, it’s an industry whose work force is more than 75 percent white … so what’s happening now definitely could be a welcomed watershed moment in publishing and what books get the spotlight. What do you think? And now I’ll leave you with a review of what I finished lately.

The Stars Are Fire by Anita Shreve / Knopf / 2017 / 256 pages 

Why I Picked It Up:  This was author Anita Shreve’s last novel as she passed away in 2018 from cancer. A blog I read had recommended it … and I was midway into the audiobook of it before realizing … it wasn’t in my typical reading zone. It’s a bit of a romantic kind of story, which is not a genre I usually pick up … but I finished it nonetheless.

Synopsis: Set in a coastal town in Maine in 1947, the novel is about a woman named Grace with two young children who’s caught in a loveless, uncommunicative marriage to Gene … when a colossal forest fire rips through towns along the coast and Grace with her children and neighbor Rosie (and her kids) must race into the sea to try to survive the flames. Grace’s husband who’s out at the time doesn’t come back and is listed as missing, while Grace in the aftermath moves with her children and mother into her deceased mother-in-law’s house, which was one of the few houses spared. Little by little, Grace gains some independence after the chaos of the fires, rebuilding her life: with work at a clinic and a brief fling with a tenant. All is boding well, until an event happens that changes her trajectory and takes away the little she’s gained since putting her life back together.

My Thoughts:  The story is based on actual forest fires in 1947 that wiped through nine coastal towns of Maine, which according to the New England Historical Society: destroyed 851 homes and 397 seasonal cottages, leaving 2,500 people homeless and killing 16. I had no idea about this real life disaster, which the author builds the novel around … so I was interested to know about it and could picture what happened all too well. It reminded me of the fires in Northern California in 2018. 

The story is a bit of a period piece delving into mothers’ lives back then (post-war), full of housework, parenting, and not much else once stuck in an unhappy, bad marriage. I thought the story was all right as light summer fare, even if there are a few plot turns that seem a bit implausible. As I said, it was more of a romantic-lite kind of tale than I was expecting, but its simplicity and drama worked enough during these pandemic times. It didn’t strain the brain … just moved along with its drama to its more hopeful end.

I also finished Elizabeth Strout’s 2019 novel “Olive, Again,” but I think I will wait till next time to review that. I just realized both Strout’s and Shreve’s novels are set in Maine. So I guess my mind was on Maine this past week. It’s a beautiful state, though I’ve only spent time there once long ago. 

That’s all for now. What about you — what’s been on your mind, or happening in your world?  

I hope everyone is enjoying their summer … as much as one can during these strange Covid times. Perhaps while sheltering in place you are reading more? Or is it less? I seem steady but not overly quick these days. And the past couple of weeks I’ve kept busy with nonfiction books, which is a bit unusual since I usually prefer fiction. Go figure. Of nonfiction, I mostly like the genres of: memoirs/biographies, histories, and natural histories … which by chance are the three I picked up recently. Which nonfiction do you prefer? I know there are a lot of cooking gurus out there, but unfortunately I am not one of them. I enjoy gardening and sports though seldom read books about them … unless they’re in a good novel, right?

Meanwhile last week was my book assistant’s birthday; Stella turned 8 on July 3, which in dog years is getting up there (like me). She’s been having a good summer with twice daily walks and swims in the river on warm days. In general she’s a spoiled girl with food and attention. She overlooks what I read but is usually put to sleep by most books I pick up. I try not to take it too personally. Meanwhile I hope everyone had a pleasant holiday last week. Did you see fireworks or have a barbecue? It seemed pretty subdued here though tennis games and bike riding were in full swing. And now I’ll leave you with a few reviews of books I finished lately. 

A Bookshop in Berlin: The Rediscovered Memoir of One Woman’s Harrowing Escape From the Nazis by Francoise Frenkel / Simon & Schuster/ 287 pages 

I listened to this woman’s short memoir as an audiobook twice and thought her story was amazing. I love that her book was rediscovered in 2010 apparently at a charity sale … after it had been forgotten about since its original publication in 1945 under the title “No Place to Lay One’s Head.” It was just published in English last year. 

Born in Poland, Jewish, and educated in Paris, Francoise Frenkel’s true desire was to become a bookseller and own a bookshop, which she did when she opened a French bookstore in Berlin in 1921. As a lover of French literature, she managed her bookshop with all her gusto and joy, making it soon a beacon to various poets, writers, scholars and ambassadors of the day. But with the decade’s passing, life for Jews and international immigrants grew dim in the mid-1930s with the rise of the Nazis … and in 1939 after the brutalness of Kristallnacht, she finally abandoned her Berlin bookshop and fled to Paris and later to the south of France, first to Avignon and then to Nice. 

Told in first person narration, the memoir is a compelling eyewitness account of her life in Berlin during those years and later in Occupied France, where at first she finds things endurable but later after the 1942 census and the roundups started, things turned to hell. She recounts the arrests she witnessed, the deportations to concentration camps, the suicides … and her own efforts to survive, slipping from safe house to safe house, hiding out and trying to get viable documents to first stay in France as a Polish refugee … then to try to flee on a visa to neutral Switzerland.

The French police and militia, like the Nazis, in her account are barbarous and brutal, though she also spotlights the courage and kindness of the French people who helped hide her along the way. How she evades being caught and deported to the camps is at times miraculous and a white-knuckle experience. Eventually all the hardships she endures (all the while worrying about her family in Poland) and her ingenuity pay off as she’s able to make a few attempts to get away, which is such a relief by the time it finally comes that it sort of made me feel like balling. 

I found her memoir to be an important historical document and account of what happened from 1939 to 1943 (first in Berlin then in southern France) and it increased my understanding of those brutal days during WWII. I know there are many worthy Holocaust and Occupied France memoirs out there, but I was glad a blog pointed me to this one as not to miss … it’s by a bookseller no less with a particular vantage point — as a Polish refugee, a one-time Berlin bookstore owner, and a patriot of France. 

PS. It’s interesting to note: that nowhere in this memoir does she mention her husband who apparently started the bookstore with her in Berlin but then fled to France in 1933 (years before her) and eventually perished at Auschwitz in 1942. Hmm, perhaps it was due to a falling out or because of some other mystery. 

She Came to Slay: The Life and Times of Harriet Tubman by Erica Armstrong Dunbar / 37 Ink (part of Atria Books) / 176 pages / 2019

Next I listened twice to this lively biography of another amazing woman as an audiobook narrated by actress Robin Miles and wow I learned so much. From school history I knew Tubman escaped slavery in Maryland and then returned to lead other enslaved members of her family and friends to freedom along the secret Underground Railroad (of abolitionist shelters) to the North … but other particular details of her life and accomplishments were a bit hazy to me. 

That’s where this book and author (a history professor at Rutgers) really brought Tubman (born Araminta “Minty” Ross around 1822) to life in an accessible and three-dimensional way. Afterwards I rented the 2019 film version “Harriet” but didn’t like it nearly much as this book, which gave a more accurate and fuller historical picture of Tubman’s life story, which involved her doing much more than I ever remembered. 

Tubman’s daring trials are all played out here — her brutal life in slavery, her dramatic 1849 escape and journey of 90+ miles to reach freedom, and her many return trips in the 1850s to lead and help approximately 70 family members and friends escape to the North. I didn’t realize she was a petite 5-foot-tall woman who possessed a lot of strength … but also endured a serious head injury (a fractured skull) early in her life from a heavy object that was thrown and hit her that put her into a sleep at times. She believed these episodes gave her visions that she interpreted as revelations from God.

It was also interesting to know about her meeting with abolitionist John Brown and that she helped him recruit supporters for his 1859 anti-slavery raid on Harpers Ferry, as well as her role in the Civil War as a nurse and scout for the Union Army, who in 1863 guided an armed mission on a raid along the Combahee River in South Carolina, which liberated more than 700 slaves. Tubman also knew the great orator Frederick Douglass and other notables of the day and  gave lectures to abolitionist audiences and later supported the suffragette movement. In 1859 she bought property in Auburn, New York, from U.S. Sen. William Seward, and went on to earn wages and a military pension that were — with a lot of effort — finally awarded to her late in her life for her efforts in the War. She married twice (being 22 years older than husband #2), and had many relatives, but only one adopted daughter. 

Though much has been written about this iconic figure before, I thought this short but enticing book gives many fascinating details in a fresh way that kept me captivated throughout her life. Perhaps I hadn’t realized that: (a) so much was truly known about her, and (b) Tubman was involved with many things beyond the Underground Railroad. 

She had come out of a world of slavery and the oral tradition and some particulars of her life and the routes she took and people along the Railroad were kept secret or are unknown. Still she became widely known and respected during her lifetime, fighting for notable causes and assisting others for most of her 91 years until her passing in 1913. She wasn’t one to give up or back down, and despite all the slaveholders trying to catch her during her years guiding slaves to escape on the Underground Railroad, she says:  “I never ran my train off the track and I never lost a passenger.”

The Hidden Life of Owls: The Science and Spirit of Nature’s Most Elusive Birds by Leigh Calvez / Sasquatch Books / 224 pages / 2016 

Finally, I’ve gotten into owls lately. They’re just the coolest birds that can, among other things, turn their heads 270 degrees and they have a knack for nearly silent flight. I came across this book that turned out to be a good intro into learning about them through 11 different owl species the author goes out to watch and learn about mostly in the Pacific Northwest but also in Montana and Alaska. Some of what is described and discussed is: where owls live and nest, where they migrate to, what they eat, how they raise their young, how males and female duties differ, what terrain they like, when they’re active (mostly at night) and what survival challenges they face. 

As an owl novice I didn’t know, for instance, that owls eat their prey head first (many times whole), and the indigestible parts of their prey become pellets that are regurgitated about 6 to 8 hours later. Most female owls are bigger than males, and they don’t build their own nests but use other birds’ nests or cavities they find. The females alone sit on the eggs in the nest for many weeks at a time, while the male brings her food. And most owls hatch their eggs asynchronously, making the chicks different ages within the nest. I was amazed too how far ranging owls migrate during different seasons from various places including: Russia, Mexico, the American West, and Canada. At times they can arrive in places never expected … like when Snowy Owls were seen in the parking garage at Dulles Airport … perhaps just taking a rest break before heading on their way.  

I have a new appreciation for owls after reading this and hope to go on some hikes to see some around here. So far since they are quite elusive, I’ve only seen the Great Horned Owl but there are many other kinds around the area to look for. The book also introduces various owl experts and conservationists in the field who are working to band the birds to research them to see where they go and measure and weigh them in an effort to study and try to help them. 

It was interesting to see the techniques used for trapping the birds to put a band on their leg, which included: nets and playing recorded owl calls; and trapping others in their burrows with recorded calls; or feeding them mice. The scientists seem to know quite a bit about their behavior by spending years tracking data about them. All in all the book was a helpful primer for me, though it doesn’t include photos of the various species just an illustration at the beginning of each chapter. It’s also not too strong on narrative other than the author’s quest to learn about various owls, though the book is filled with a good sense of wonder and appreciation for these magnetic birds.

That’s all for now. What about you — have you read books on any of these subjects? Stay well.

I hope everyone is enjoying these pretty summer days and the flowers in bloom despite our trying Covid times. Hard to believe: we just passed the summer solstice and the longest day of 2020. How are your reading goals looking at the midway point of the year? So far I’m on track to reach mine but still remain a bit distracted by virus spikes, crazy political news, and wondering if the economy will come back. The U.S./Canadian border remains closed for another month, flights out of here are pretty minimal, and plans to see my folks in California are on hold till I figure out a safe way. I will continue to assess the situation for August and stay put in the interim.   

Meanwhile in book news I was really sorry to see that famous Spanish author Carlos Ruiz Zafron, age 55, passed away last week from cancer. What a terrible loss as his four-part series “The Cemetery of Forgotten Books,” which started with his 2001 novel “The Shadow of the Wind” was much beloved globally.

My husband enjoyed it and I still have it on my TBR backlist. This should be the year for it. Judy over at the blog Keep the Wisdom just finished all four in the series, which ended with Zafron’s 2016 novel “The Labyrinth of Spirits,” and had great things to say about it. Thankfully his books live on in the wake of his sad passing. Have you read his 2001 bestseller? And now I’ll leave you with a couple of reviews of what I finished lately.

Prairie Fever by Michael Parker / Algonquin Books / 336 pages / 2019

Synopsis: This novel, which came out last year and is just out now in paperback, is about two dissimilar sisters, ages 15 and 17, who are closely bound to each other by their isolation growing up and going to school by horseback on the desolate prairie in Oklahoma in the early 1900s. They have a strong reliance on one another … until a cataclysmic blizzard has tragic consequences, and their interest in the same man comes between them. Uh-oh. 

Lorena is the older one who’s practical and pretty and dreams of attending college, while the younger Elise likes to recite newspaper articles by rote and is driven by flights of fancy and jesting with her sister. She’s fond of the family horse and has an ear for piano playing. Neither at first thinks much of the young inexperienced teacher Gus McQueen who arrives from out of town to work at their school … but later when the blizzard hits … their lives become entangled and changed forever.  

My Thoughts: The story, which spans from 1917 to 1940, drew me in little by little to the hardships of their lives on the prairie — with their preoccupied parents who lost sons to illness — and the strength of their bonds … as the chapters alternate among the three main characters: Elise, Lorena, and Gus. Their lives are drawn together … and then later due to events are abruptly altered irrevocably and diverge. You wonder as the years pass what will become of them … as they marry and move away and whether there will be a reconciliation of sorts or if their paths will cross again. 

It’s a story that reminded me a bit of a Willa Cather kind of rural tale of two sisters whose lives and hearts are tested. I could relate to Lorena more … as at times Elise’s flighty actions lead to trouble. The language and the landscape transported me to their days on the prairie and delivered a kind of reckoning at the end in which it seemed the passage of time had helped. I liked how the author captured the time and place of this bittersweet sisterly tale and will watch for whatever he writes next. 

In disclosure: I received an e-galley of this novel from the publisher Algonquin Books to read and review.  Thanks for making it possible. 

American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins / Flatiron Books / 2020  / 16 hours, 43 minutes on audio read by Yareli Arizmendi

Synopsis:  When a drug cartel operating around Acapulco massacres members of a family, a woman (Lydia) and her 8-year-old son (Luca) flee and make a plan to try to escape to safety over the southern border of the United States. 

My Thoughts: It seems most know if they intend to read this novel, which received so much press, by now. It won’t be for everyone. But I was curious by the uproar over it and a friend said she couldn’t put it down. So I took the plunge. My initial reaction after finishing the lengthy audiobook of it was: Whoa it’s a long hellish journey that Lydia and her son Luca endure along with others, particularly two sisters Soledad and Rebeca, fleeing circumstances in Honduras, whom they meet and befriend on the run. All will face endless hair-raising hurdles that’ll set you on edge and grind your teeth. It’s exhaustive and harrowing in places and you’ll need a good breather after. 

In many ways it’s typical thriller fare … and does not exactly rise much above that. So it’s not too surprising to hear the criticism that it exploits migrants and perpetuates stereotypes. Thrillers on the whole are pretty manipulative and are meant to turn pages. To its credit I will say its story made me think of migrants’ plights in a visceral way and unmoored me. Oprah didn’t make it her book club choice for nothing. It’s a strong cup of coffee that bears witness to a lot of suffering and desperate people fleeing violence.

From the story, you’ll get a sense of why caravans of people travel thousands of miles to arrive at the U.S. border with the hope of escaping something horrible in their homeland: whether it be from gangs, murder, drug cartels, relentless oppression and violence. You’ll also get a sense of the many dangers they face along the way to get there: whether jumping on top of trains, fleeing authorities, getting robbed and raped, existing without shelter or food or water in punishing conditions. It’ll drain your blood being in Lydia’s and the others’ shoes. Is it really any wonder you’ll feel or show them some compassion (which seems the purpose of the book). Some of the people along their route do and help them … while others prey on them. You’ll be wary to figure out whom to trust. 

Some parts of the story might not seem totally believable … like how the protagonist Lydia — might know and be friends with the head cartel guy in Acapulco and not know this about him … or not have her family go into hiding after her journalist husband writes an expose of his crimes. But other parts of the dangerous journey will seem perhaps all too believable and real in one’s head.

I’m sure there are various migrant or Latino authors who have written about such treks and issues in more substantial or nuanced ways. And I will look to read their works and in general to read more from authors of diversity and from different countries. Diversity and other nationalities are where we can learn so much about other lives and viewpoints. In ways this thriller — and the furor it’s caused in the publishing and reading world — points readers to other books and authors to pick up and explore. Therefore I’m not all against Jeanine Cummins or what she’s written and obviously researched. She raises hair-raising events about issues you’ll think about long after. Read or don’t read it at your own whim. The audiobook is read convincingly by Mexican actress and director Yareli Arizmendi, who felt realistically like the character of Lydia.  

That’s all for now. What about you — have you read these novels or authors and if so, what did you think?