Book 17: Memoirs of a Geisha

When a novel is adapted into a film, I almost invariably find the written version more appealing.  It might just be one of those elitist things that comes with the territory of being a longtime book-lover; you somehow always come to believe that your imagination is more accurate and on-point than the other guy's.


However, through pretty much no fault of its own, Memoirs of a Geisha as a novel is, in my books (ha ha ha, puns!), surpassed by the silver screen's version.  I think a lot of this has to do with the way the movie adeptly brings to life all the colors and sounds of the world that Golden strives to portray in his writing.  John Williams' arrestingly lovely accompanying score doesn't hurt either.  In any case, the novel is significantly improved upon in the film, which I find to be a good thing.  After all, isn't that why screen adaptations of books are made in the first place?  (And that noise you hear is Hollywood responding with a resounding "NO".  Clearly.)


At its core, Memoirs is a novel about overcoming adversity.  It tells the story of one geisha's dogged pursuit of love and happiness in the face of career challenges, political turmoil, and bitter rivalries.  Narrated from the perspective of retired geisha Nitta Sayuri, Memoirs paints an elegant picture of the colorful, separate reality--the "flower and willow world"--in which geisha once lived and worked.  It was the imagery that drew me in most of all; Golden's descriptions of the settings and costumes are vivid and arresting.  I found myself reading late into the night, just to get a "glimpse" of another one of Sayuri's kimono.  I've always been fascinated by Japanese culture, and Memoirs of a Geisha definitely fed that fascination.  


The novel also impressed me because it read like an actual memoir.  It is written in such a manner that it is easy to forget that it is, in fact, a work of fiction.  The book even begins with a (fictional) note from the translator.  For the five days it took me to read this book (which makes it a quick read, considering the fact that I'm a full-time student), I was absolutely ensnared by the world that Golden creates with his prose.  


That being said, the book definitely has its flaws.  While Memoirs is a good introduction into certain concepts within Japanese culture and the geisha subculture, it is clearly a novel written by an American.  Rather than being introduced and incorporated subtly, many of the cultural elements are addressed with a heavy-handedness that is sometimes jarring.  It is clear in these instances that Golden is trying to prove that he did his research.  He works hard to capture a Japanese "voice", and it's sort of hit-or-miss throughout the novel.  The characters were also kind of flat to me.  Even Sayuri, in spite of being the protagonist, is generally lacking in depth and definition.  

I do in some respects feel like the movie did it better; the characters are more real, and even the plot was executed more capably in the film than it was in the novel.  The screenwriters made changes to the plot that even I, as a purist when it comes to film adaptations, approve of.  The changes heightened the drama and improved the pacing, and these are changes which I wish Golden's editor would have made.


In any case, Memoirs of a Geisha is a fine book and a fine film.  While both provide a relatively good primer on Eastern culture and philosophy, they are both works of historical fiction, and this is a fact that is important to take into account.  As long as readers/viewers keep this in mind and don't try to take Memoirs at anything more than its face value, they will enjoy and benefit from their experience.  


Grade:  B+
Rating:  13 and up, for some (relatively vague) sexual content

Book 16: The Pillars of the Earth

After a good two months of slow, painstaking reading, I have finally finished reading Ken Follett's novel, The Pillars of the Earth.  The time it took me to finish the book reflects in no way upon the book itself, but upon the fact that I hadn't had much time to read until recently.


Pillars of the Earth is almost 1000-pages long and spans over fifty years of medieval history.  If you've seen Paul Haggis' 2004 film, Crash, then you'll be familiar with the broad idea of the novel.  Pillars takes characters from many different walks of life and unites their lives, ambitions, and story lines in one town, with the building of a cathedral church.  Their affairs tangle together quickly and become inexorably linked, which is what drives the novel's plot.  The book is also like Robert Bloch's Psycho in that it is divided into two parts, each of which is presided over by a different protagonist.


The novel partially takes place during a period in history known as The Anarchy--a nineteen year-long war of succession between King Stephen (also known as Stephen the Usurper) and the Empress Maud following the death of the King Henry's heir, William, aboard the White Ship, which sank off the coast of France in the year 1120.  This incident plays a major role in the political undercurrents which guide the novel's plot (and, besides, is a really interesting era of British history on its own).
And now for an attempt at a spoiler-free plot summary... I suppose I could come up with some keywords and list them in vague order of appearance.  Here goes:

public execution, perjury, maternal morbidity, attempted infanticide, treason, invasion, ecclesiastical trickery, ruination, bribery, LOTS OF WAR, arson, architecture, political cunning, building, evil plots, self-denial, oopsies-babies, epic love stories, more evil plots, global travel, epic disaster, more war, murder, royal succession, court disputes, marriage, divorce, skirmishes, religious miracles, science, public execution, changing the church forever

Ok, the order sort of went to crap towards the middle of the list, but it was spot-on at the beginning and end.  Anyway, there is a LOT that happens, to say the least.  

There are many things that I love about this book.  The characters are strong, and although some of them ended up being written too black-and-white for my taste, they are written vividly and well.  The settings are also stunningly portrayed.  Follett has a real knack for writing engagingly about architecture, of all things, and paints beautiful pictures with his words.  

The plot is also strong in that it honestly does have something for everyone.  Follett keeps the action varied, and in doing so engages his audience even further.  As in 'Crash', the end of the novel sees all the threads coming back together to form a complete, intricate tapestry of intersecting lives and worlds.  The melding of political intrigue, war, religious zeal, and iron-willed industry and innovation is evocative and intriguing.  

When I further analyze my fascination with this book, I have to admit that I've always had a weird, distant sort of fascination with the concept of a God.  I don't consider myself a believer in much other than science and people, but I definitely found myself interested by the frequently-mentioned theme of "God's will".  Watch out.  Some day, when I write a post about East of Eden, this idea--the idea of human will versus what is construed as the will of God--will come up again.  

In summary, I looooved The Pillars of the Earth, and I'll read it again as soon as I get a chance.  

Grade:  A

Rating:  15+, for language and strong adult content (definitely took me by surprise)

Since finishing the book I've also had the chance to watch the recent STARZ channel series.  I was fully aware before I started watching that it wasn't going to be great, since trying to cram such a huge book into a few one-hour episodes was definitely not going to happen.  However, I wasn't expecting to be quite so disappointed.  They drastically changed the fates of certain characters, cut out major themes, and added some really awkward undertones to certain character dynamics (hello, incest?).  The one thing that I felt the series was good for was the portrayal of England at the time.  While Follet's writing provided me with a lot of fabulous mental images, it was nice to have some of the corroborated by actual visuals.  If you haven't read the book and have watched the series, I implore you not to judge a novel by its screen adaptation.  The book is a zillion times better.

EoE Progress

Since returning to school my progress on reading East of Eden has been...zilcho. Predictable. I don't have free time, and when I do have free time I tend to spend it doing brain-dead things. So sad. TV>Steinbeck? Well, no, but it's easier to zone out while watching TV than it is while reading. I'll have to get back into it soon...

Book 15: Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger

Cool fact: my aunt is Audrey Niffenegger's physician.

I guess that doesn't count as having a real celebrity connection, but it's within six degrees of separation so it's good enough for me. My aunt was cool enough to take my copy of her first novel,The Time Traveler's Wife, back with her to Chicago after her last visit to be signed, and she recently sent me a "mission accomplished" email. Apparently, Audrey Niffenegger thinks my name is pretty.

Awesome? Indubitably.

Unfortunately what isn't awesome is the experience I had reading her latest novel, Her Fearful Symmetry. It was one of those books that I bought in that epic Border's gift card splurge I went on at the end of last semester. Seeing as The Time Traveler's Wife is more or less my favorite novel, I was expecting greatness from this new addition to Niffenegger's body of work. Maybe that was the problem, since I was sorely disappointed with the novel in light of my great expectations.

Her Fearful Symmetry is about two identical mirror twins--Julia and Valentina--and, by extension, about their mother (Edie) and her estranged identical twin sister (Elspeth). The novel opens with Elspeth's death. She bequeaths her estate and most of her worldly possessions to her young nieces, stating that they will come into their inheritance at age 21 with the conditions that they live in her London flat for at least a year before selling it and that. The girls, who at age 20 have floated in and out of various colleges and now live in their parents' home in Chicago, decide to take Elspeth's offer.

They arrive in London a year later, Valentina more reluctantly than the bossy, dominant Julia. The two establish themselves in Elspeth's apartment next to London's famous Highgate Cemetery and explore the city together. Eventually they meet Elspeth's elusive lover, Robert, and Martin, an older man living in the building with persistent, debilitating OCD.

The novel quickly begins to explore the relationship between the twins. While highly dependent on each other, Julia and Valentina have very different ideas of what it means to be a twin, and Valentina spends much of the novel trying to emancipate herself from Julia. Her budding romance with the much-older Robert proves to be particularly divisive.

And then there's the ghost story. It turns out that Elspeth's ghost is still skulking around the apartment, and while she at first can't be detected or heard, she observes everything and eventually becomes able to communicate with Julia and Valentina using a Ouija Board set-up. The ghost story and Valentina's desire for individuality come together in what I consider to be a tragic but rather predictable end to the story, which I won't reveal here.

I was not pleased by this book. Besides being written in a manner that makes it difficult to really bond with or relate to the characters, the style is murky and lacks the fluidity and detail that made Niffenegger's first novel such a joy to read. It comes off as less intelligent and more gimmick-y than her previous work.

While the characters are life-like and believable, I found it easy to read about them without caring what happened to them (this is with exception to Martin, who was actually remarkably well-written and is arguably the single-most interesting character in the entire novel). The emotional developments of the characters are all so on the surface that there is no brain work left for the reader to do. Instead of being the literary experience that The Time Traveler's Wifewas for me, with its running themes and emotional undercurrents, Her Fearful Symmetry was something of a joke--predictable, cliched, and too much like the run-of-the-mill paperback. I wasn't a huge fan of the supernatural aspect of the story either, though it's undoubtedly a very cool idea. I guess it just wasn't for me.

Like I said before, maybe the biggest mistake I'm making in all of this is continually comparing Niffenegger's two books, but I think it's fair to hold one work to the standards of its predecessor. The conclusion I've come to regarding Her Fearful Symmetry is this: sweet idea, but lackluster execution. The book could have been shorter, less convoluted, and much more interesting.

Grade: C+

Rating: 13+ for mild language, minimal sexual content.

PS: Cool fact--I was presented with my high school diploma by none other than MC Hammer. And, what's more, I got a hug. That's right. I touched that. How d'you like me now? :P

East of Eden

Spring Break started on Friday, which means I have a good week at home to do whatever I want. Yesterday, I finally tucked into East of Eden by John Steinbeck. I bought a copy of the book after reading The Grapes of Wrath during my junior year of high school, so it's been sitting on my bookshelf waiting for me to crack it open for three years. I think it's about time.

I fell in love with Steinbeck's use of language in The Grapes of Wrath, and even though I'm only a few chapters into East of Eden it's clear that it's going to be just as beautiful to read, if not more-so. Steinbeck thought of this book as his magnum opus, and described it as the book that he had been practicing to write for his entire career. That's pretty heavy if you think about it, since Steinbeck has a lot of amazing novels to his name.

Apparently the major theme in this novel is Biblical, as seems to be the case with so many of the world's great works of literature. In particular, East of Eden parallels the story of Cain

and Abel, the ill-fated sons of Adam and Eve. Since I don't know very much about the Bible (most of my knowledge of it is derived from Mr. Deity, which you should totally go check out; it's hilarious), I did a Wikipedia search on the subject. This is what I found:

Adam knew his wife Eve intimately, and she conceived and gave birth to Cain. She said, "I have had a male child with the LORD's help."^{[33] 2}Then she also gave birth to his brother Abel. Now Abel became a shepherd of a flock, but Cain cultivated the land. ³In the course of time Cain presented some of the land's produce as an offering to the LORD. ⁴And Abel also presented [an offering]^[34]— some of the firstborn of his flock and their fat portions.^[35] The Lord had regard for Abel and his offering, ⁵but He did not have regard for Cain and his offering. Cain was furious, and he was downcast.^{[36] 6}Then the LORD said to Cain, "Why are you furious? And why are you downcast?^{[37] 7}If you do right, won't you be accepted? But if you do not do right, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must master it." ⁸Cain said to his brother Abel, "Let's go out to the field."^[38] And while they were in the field, Cain attacked his brother Abel and killed him.

Cool. Yay, murderous creepy people! This should be a fun read.

Being home makes me feel like I must be just east of Eden myself. My family lives in a seriously beautiful place. It's the kind of beauty that you don't really get over, even after living

surrounded by it for a long time like I have. I love spending time with my folks, and being able to get away from school for a few days isn't shabby either.

That's not to say that I don't have piles of homework to finish by the time I get back. I have little to no idea as to how I'm ever going to get this organic chemistry problem set done...

OH WELL.

Happy National Reading Month!

Well, I suppose the title says it all. March is apparently National Reading Month in the United States. I'm not sure when this was designated, but it's good to see that people still want to celebrate literature and the simple joy that reading a good book can provide. I'll always be grateful to my dad who, even after an exhaustingly long day at work, would diligently read me a story before bed just about every night when I was little. He to this day enjoys reminding me of how I used to jab him with my elbow to wake him up if he, God forbid, fell asleep while reading to me. Apparently I've always been a book fiend.

I hope you get to enjoy some quality reading this month, whether it's a piece of classic literature or a childhood favorite. I myself hope to buckle down and read at least a good chunk of Steinbeck's East of Eden while I'm on spring break. Wish me luck!

(Image courtesy of ModCloth.com)

Book 14: Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine

One of my best friends here at school insists that the Anne Hathaway movie based on this novel is "legitimately awesome", but it's still one I refuse to see. Maybe I'm being closed-minded, but I thought that the point of adapting a book to screen was to improve upon the material, not destroy it. The trailer for the film alone told me it was going to be a heinous bastardization of the book, and seeing as it's one of my favorite books in the history of EVER, I'd rather spare myself the pain and stick to the good old ink-and-paper version of this story, thank you.

This is one of those books that goes against my general rule about the attractiveness of the cover predicting the merit of the novel, since it's a cover I loathe but a novel that I love. Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine is one of the first books that I consciously remember reading and adoring from page one. I first picked it up in the fourth grade and can still devour it in one sitting ten years later, which is a clear indication that it has something big going for it.

Ella Enchanted is a brilliant fractured fairytale version of Cinderella (duh), which takes the basic Cinderella story and weaves in all the other exciting elements of fairytale lore that the traditional take lacks--adventure, mystical creatures, dastardly plots, true romance, and a protagonist with a real personality, among other things. Out of all the Grimm or Disney Princesses, the one I've always hated on the most is Cinderella because she actually doesn't do anything. She plays second fiddle in her own story, and that's just sad. Levine's Ella takes the reins and works hard to steer a life that is very much out of her own control.

The story is very much like the original fairytale in a lot of ways. There's the distant father, the dead mom, the evil stepmother and stepsisters, the handsome prince, and the fairy godmother...and then there's a curse that forces Ella to always obey any order given to her (see the danger there?). The curse, really, is the most interesting part because that's where the deviation from the original story comes from. It's what gives Ella much of her spunk and appeal as a character. She lives her life under this unwilling compulsion to always do as she's told and is always doing her best to fight it, which gives her strength as a protagonist. Beyond that, she's written to be witty and brave and commanding, and these are all traits that the traditional Cinderella clearly lacks (actually, the only real personality trait that the original Cinerella has is "whiny". Lame).

The plot's the part I just can't give away. It's much too much fun, so you should discover it for yourself. If you're a fan of fairytales and, of course, strong female protagonists, you'll love this book, and you'll have just as much fun with it whether you're five or fifty. I always throw Ella Enchanted at pre-teen girls, but the best thing about it is the fact that it's really appropriate for anyone at all.

Book 13: The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold

So I thought I posted this months ago, but it turns out that it's been sitting in my "drafts" folder since November. Oops.

---------------

Seeing as this book has been made into a soon-to-be-released film, I figure should review it.

The Lovely Bones is Alice Sebold's second novel, with the first being Lucky--Sebold's memoir about her experience and survival of a brutal rape in 1980, and how she came to bring her attacker to justice. Riffing off of that theme, The Lovely Bones is the story of a young girl named Suzie Salmon who is violently raped, murdered, and dismembered by her neighbor. After her death, Suzie narrates the rest of the novel from her own personal Heaven, observing as her friends, family, and her killer deal with their experience and move on with their lives. It also functions as something of a murder mystery thriller, because while we know the identity of the killer from the get-go, the process of the family developing their inklings and their interactions with the investigators is another thing entirely.

There isn't much to this book in the way of plot summary, since anything I say will only adulterate the experience of the book. The main strength of The Lovely Bones is the style of the narrative, which is both humorous and tremendously sad at the same time. The writing is strong and convincing, as is the host of characters. Sebold's use of sensory writing and imagery is fantastic; I adore her take on Heaven, which she describes as a perfect place created from the things one loved while alive.

At the end of the day, The Lovely Bones is really a coming-of-age story. Suzie is killed during that awkward place in life between childhood and adulthood, and spends many years trying to cope with her murder while at the same time holding on to life and the living by watching her family as they work through their grief. Her life continues through the proxy of the lives of her family members (especially her younger sister), but she remains very much a child in many aspects. Without the experiences that propel the living into maturity her soul, and therefore her narrative, remains quite childlike through much the novel. Her outlook on her situation, however, is surprisingly mature and becomes more so as she spends more time in Heaven. She reminds me oddly of Anne Frank in this way--a young person in a terrible situation who still manages to not become jaded by their experiences. It was a pleasant parallel.

Though The Lovely Bones is fundamentally a book about tragedy and loss, it deals with these themes gracefully and, in the end, is a celebration of life and faith. While the ending was a little confusing, and perhaps a bit too perfect, it gave a satisfying conclusion to Susie's story.

Grade: A-

Rating: 14+ for violence, language, suspense

Book 12: Lucky by Alice Sebold

I'm just going to cut to the chase with this one, because I'm in class and ought to be paying attention.

I was pretty disappointed by Lucky. I'm not sure if there's a way that this book could have been written better. It tackles really ugly subject material. I felt sick to my stomach while I was reading Lucky, and while that's probably the appropriate response to such material, it's not a comfortable feeling to endure throughout a 270+ page book.

Lucky is Alice Sebold's narration of the brutal rape and beating she experienced as a freshman in college, and of her efforts to return to normal while working to bring her rapist to justice.

Delightful, no?

That's really all you need to know about the plot. Since it's a memoir, most of it is spent in introspection and there aren't really any grand sweeps of action. This would be fine if the book weren't so moody and (for lack of a better word) EMO, but because it's paced so slowly and because Sebold's recovery experience is so entrenched in terrible, negative emotion (and, seriously, whose wouldn't be?), the middle of the book becomes muddy and plods along before diving headfirst into the ending.

The book doesn't even end on a high note, though. There's a somewhat predictable twist toward the end involving a college roommate, after which Sebold's character in the book descends into a spiral of drugs and self-destruction. She waits until the very end to let shine some teeny tiny ray of sunshine, and it barely manages to save the book from utter emo destruction.

Like I said before, I'm not sure if there is a better way to write a book like this. It's rough stuff to try and address, and Sebold seems to have done her best to talk about what is obviously a difficult subject. Still, while I didn't really expect to enjoy the book (because, really, how do you enjoy a book about rape?), I don't feel like I gained much from it either. I felt bogged down by it, and really only saw it through to the end out of a sense of duty.

If you're interested in reading an Alice Sebold book, I suggest you hit up The Lovely Bones instead. While it deals with a similar premise, the writing is much better and the mere fact that it is fiction makes it easier to digest.

Grade: B-

Rating: 15+ for violent and graphic depictions of sex, as well as language.

Freedom!

The books have been purchased. Mission accomplished! I didn't pay a penny, either, since I used old gift cards that have been sitting in my wallet for years. Woohoo!

I'm also done with finals, which is a big yay (YAY!) and I'm heading home tomorrow morning with my parental units. I think it'll be good to get away from school for a while. I'm rather in need of a good break, and this semester has been murderously abusive.

Sir Winston Churchill (pictured at right) says that I deserve victory (he IS pointing at me, isn't he?), but I guess that remains to be seen until my grades get posted. In the meantime, I intend on doing little besides relaaaaaxing. Mm.

Book Wishlist

I have literally hundreds of dollars in Borders and Barnes & Noble gift cards sitting in my wallet, and I think it's high time I use them. I have every intention of going on a crazy book binge as soon as my finals are over, and while I'm taking a break from the difficult fifteen minutes of studying I just did, I figure I might as well list some of the books I want to include in my mass purchase. Let's see...

-Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger. She wrote what is possible my favorite novel of all time (namely, The Time Traveler's Wife).

-Lucky by Alice Sebold. By the author of the nationally-acclaimed novel The Lovely Bones. Girl's got talent. And it's been a while since I've read a good memoir.

-The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins. One of my best buds here at college is a Dawkins lover, so I figure I should give his stuff a try.

-Better by Atul Gawande. I read his book Complications a few years ago and loved it. Though I was pretty burned out in terms of medically-related books after my introductory seminar last Fall, I think it might be time to reopen that sector of literature.

-Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri. She writes absolutely amazing short stories. I'm curious what this new anthology looks like in comparison with Interpreter of Maladies, which has to be one of my most favorite short story collections.

-Coraline by Neil Gaiman. Haven't seen the movie yet, and I usually like to read the books before I see the film adaptation. I've been poked and prodded by tons of people to watch the movie, so I should probably get cracking on the book first.

-Book of A Thousand Days by Shannon Hale. I've read some of her other work (see: Austenland, among others), and am curious about this new addition to the litany of books she's written.

I think that's enough for now. My "To Be Read" pile at home is already prodigiously large, and adding to it is probably a really bad idea. OH WELL.

Something I've been wondering about books: What is it with authors these days and book titles like "The _____'s Wife/Sister/Daughter"? When did this title form become so daggone popular? I saw it with The Time Traveler's Wife, and before I knew it it was everywhere! Curious...

Book 11: The Realm Of The Gods by Tamora Pierce

This will be the end of my Tamora Pierce kick, or it will be for now. The Realm Of The Gods is the satisfying finish to Tamora Pierce's IMMORTALS series, and the conclusion to Daine's story.

Daine and Numair are facing what is certainly their doom when they are pulled into The Divine Realms by none other than Daine's parents, whose are both lesser gods. Though it is a very tearful reunion for Daine and her mother (who, when still mortal, was murdered by bandits) Daine and Numair must return to the Mortal Realms to help Tortall in her fight against Ozorne, who is back--this time as a conniving Stormwing instead of a conniving emperor, and with plenty of mortal and Immortal allies.

Since the war in the Mortal Realms is going on at the same time as a war between The Greater Gods and the Queen of Chaos (Ozorne+ Chaos=cohorts? Yes.), none of the Gods can be bothered to help Numair and Daine get back home, so the two are forced to make the perilous trip across the Divine Realms to request help from the Dragons. They also discover that they love each other--a wonderfully tender note in an otherwise plot-driven novel.

Once transported back to the Mortal Realms (courtesy of the Dragons), Daine takes on Ozorne in a bloody, decisive battle that ends the fighting in both the Mortal and Divine Realms.

The Realm Of The Gods provides a very fitting end to the series, and quite a satisfying one as well. Though quite fast-paced, the story is still imbued with detail and with enough character development that it doesn't rely completely upon plot. Though the trek through the Divine Realms got a tad monotonous at times, Pierce navigates the story well and does a good job of bringing the series to a fulfilling conclusion.

Grade: A-

Rating: 13+ (violence, mild cursing, romance)

Book 7: Austenland by Shannon Hale

I'm not sure if I've made this adequately clear in the past, but I am not a huge fan of Jane Austen's.  While her stuff is, yes, entertaining to a degree, I can't help but feel like every story is the same and every character is just a reconstituted Mr. Darcy or Ms. Bennett.  And, yeah, her characters sometimes have rather witty, snarkastic (sarcastic + snarky; I think it's clever) things to say, but nothing from a Jane Austen novel has ever inspired me to love, admire, or even loathe her characters.  

In light of this, I find it highly amusing that Shannon Hale's Austenland, a novel entirely concerned with Jane Austen and the women who love her work, is one of my favorite frivolous reads of all time.  I say "frivolous" simply because, having read a few of Hale's other novels, I can safely call Austenland one of her more playful endeavors (it's meant to be funny and ridiculous, unlike Goose Girl which is much more literary in nature, for lack of a better description).  

The plot of Austenland is as follows:  Jane Hayes is a successful working woman living in New York.  She has, it seems, everything a girl wants--beauty, youth, a good job.  Everything, that is, except a healthy love life.  Jane is a Pride and Prejudice addict of the highest order and a lover of everything Jane Austen.  And she is obsessed--OBSESSED--with Mr. Darcy.  No real boyfriend could possibly compare in her eyes to the perfection that is Fitzwilliam Darcy.  It's a guilty habit--one she's aware of and knows, on some level, that she has to get rid of if she wants to move on with her life.  So when a recently-deceased relative wills her an all-expenses-paid trip to an English resort built specifically with her type in mind--that is, a three-week immersion in a re-creation of Regency England that caters to the Austen-obsessed--Jane decides to go on the eccentric vacation for one last hurrah before dumping the Darcy habit for good. 

For three weeks she dresses in ball gowns, learns the talk and the manners, dances, and interacts with Martin the Gardener and the broody Mr. Nobly (or is it the actors they're played by?) and the other vacationers, and she eventually finds herself in her element, thriving in the synthetic setting and loving it.  The true question by the end of the vacation is this:  will she bid Pembroke Park adieu having left the obsession in the past or will she, perhaps, end up with a flesh-and-blood Mr. Darcy of her own? 

It's a seriously delightful novel, and a very quick read.  It's chick-lit, to be sure, but even the most straight-laced readers will have to laugh and sigh with the believable and relatable character that Hale creates in Jane Hayes.  The narrative reads with an ease and a wit that I really can't get enough of.  

Yeah, maybe it does have a happy ending, but it's so much better than that.

Grade:  A+

Rating:  14+ for (ew omgsh) making out, etc.

Book 6: "Covering: The Hidden Assault On Our Civil Rights" by Kenji Yoshino

Since I'm part of the housing staff at my college, I'm supposed to read the summer reading book that the college assigns to incoming freshmen so that I can discuss the book with the freshies when they get on campus.  

I picked the book up before school let out, and started reading it during the train ride to the beach on my last day in Southern California.  While the material was relatively interesting, I only got through the first few pages before falling asleep (credit for the doze-off goes to the groovy motion of the train, though, not the book).  

I was recently reminded of the task I had been charged with, and since I didn't have anything to read, I picked this one back up.  

Covering:  The Hidden Assault On Our Civil Rights is a memoir/essay by Kenji Yoshino on the broad subjects of identity and society.  More specifically, it's about society's demands for conformity through an act which Yoshino calls "covering".  Covering is defined as the process by which people "tone down" or de-emphasize stereotypes or stigmas associated with their racial, gender, sexual, religious, or other identities.  According to Yoshino, one can cover along the four axes of appearance (by making sure we don't look stereotypically ___), affiliation (by not associating with ____ culture), activism (by not engaging in ____ causes), and association (by keeping a distance from other ____ people).  

  Aside from addressing a very interesting and current topic, Yoshino does a great job of building  the book into a delightful cross between an expository essay and a memoir.  By using his own experiences as fodder for the discussion of covering, Yoshino builds context and provides resonant parallels between his life and the sociopolitical precedent that legitimizes covering in American society.  I found the format in which Covering was written to be very effective in not only giving readers a reason to care about the subject, but also in forcing readers to think about how they themselves capitulate to and impose covering demands.  Yoshino's style is also very appealing to me, in that he neatly balances the flourish of more formal, lyrical writing with a very frank, honest discussion of the issue and its effects.  He is also very even-handed, and seems to never make the mistake of taking himself too seriously--a quality that I respect very much in a writer.  

Professor Yoshino actually came and spoke at my college on the subject of covering, and I was pleased to find that he is as well-spoken in the flesh as on the page.  (He also dresses excellently, but that's quite besides the point)

I think Covering is one of those books that everyone should read, both for the purpose of better understanding society and to, more importantly, gain better understanding of the self.  Covering is an issue that touches everyone, and understanding it helps us know how it relates to us and influences our place in the world.  

Grade:  A

Rating:  15+; it would probably bore anyone younger

Considerations:  None.  It's appropriate for just about everyone

Book 5: La Cucina by Lily Prior

I feel bad for hating on this novel, since it is technically the sort of book I should like.  It's about Italy, it contains stellar recipes, it's got a neat front cover (sold!).  But, if I had a five-star rating scale, this book would get a whopping two.  I found La Cucina by Lily Prior lacking significantly in the uniqueness and stylistic grace that makes other books of its kind so much fun to read.  

This book is the sexed-up, slightly demented lovechild of Under The Tuscan Sun and Like Water for Chocolate (both are excellent books, so it's a pity that they have such an odd pseudo-offspring).  While the other two books handle the topics of family, hardship, and love in a classy and novel manner, La Cucina feels like it's been done before and, moreover, is just plain awkward to read.  Within the first couple of pages, the narrator is talking about lying naked on a table and going into discourse on the subject of the virility of the locals' loins.  

DO NOT WANT.     

Don't get me wrong--I'm not a prude by any standards and, to be fair, the back cover of the book did prepare me adequately for the general content.  Food and sex are deeply intertwined in this book; the two are explored together in all varieties of visual media (see photography byGeorgia O'Keefe, or the Japanese film "Tampopo"), so it isn't at all an unnatural pairing.  What weirded me out was the style, the manner in which these themes were discussed.  There is a lot of what I have termed "sexytime" in this book (I'm sure you can figure out what that means).  I generally  have no problem with literary sexytime.  The problem with this novel is that the sexytime isn't...sexy.  Or sensual.  It's the kind of sexytime that makes your (or, at least, my) skin crawl.  

But, hey, maybe the problem is with me.  As a member of the younger generation, I don't have any relish for expostulation upon the mating rituals of the elderly (which, of course, is the nature of sexytime in La Cucina).  Perhaps I just have some growing up to do before this will be a relevant/appealing read for me.  In that case, I suppose your enjoyment depends on who you are and where you are in life.  I'm just not there yet.  Despite the richness and flavor of certain sections of the novel, I couldn't ignore the painful awkwardness long enough to properly enjoy what I was reading. 

Anyway, on to the plot!  

La Cucina follows and is narrated by Rosa Fiore, a farmer's daughter from the Italian countryside.  Rosa is a talented and passionate cook, and her knack for the culinary arts introduces and sustains food throughout the novel as a medium for her self-expression and emotional catharsis (hence the similarity to Like Water For Chocolate).  As a teenager, she falls in love with Bartolemeo, the son of a Mafioso who has already been promised to another by his father.  Though Bartolomeo loves Rosa in kind, their romance comes to a tragic end, which results in a grief-stricken Rosa exiling herself first to her kitchen and later to the city of Palermo where she lives and works as a librarian.  It is only years later in her life, after she has resigned herself to a loveless existence and grown fat on the richness of her cooking, that she meets an Englishman (who is referred to only as "L'inglese"--literally "the Englishman"--throughout the novel) who makes her discover not only the full extent of the pleasures of food, but also the pleasures of the body.  

But, of course, love can't last.  More disaster strikes and, in the wake of yet another loss, Rosa returns to her hometown where family drama (including a who's-the-daddy twist) awaits her.  Despite this, though, the novel ends on an optimistic note, leaving Rosa's future happiness up for the reader to imagine.  

The awkward handling of sex as a theme in La Cucina wasn't exactly my only problem with the novel.  The characters feel more like caricatures, lacking depth and originality.  Though the story was decent, the narrative was sadly lacking.  I generally wouldn't recommend it, but if you're determined to read it, be aware that there is a good deal of strong language used, as well as a few relatively explicit sex scenes.  

The tagline of the title is "A Novel of Rapture".  Sorry, Lily Prior.  I really wasn't feeling it with this one.

Book 4: The Nonesuch by Georgette Heyer

No matter what people say about judging books by their covers and all of that, I will be the first to admit that books with attractive covers are the first to catch my eye and, more often than not, the ones I end up buying.  I like bright colors and creative color schemes and evocative imagery; those are the principle characteristics of the covers of best-sellers like The Time Traveler's Wife (Audrey Niffenegger), The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho), and--yes, I'll admit it--Stephenie Meyer's Twilight that I have noticed, purchased, and enjoyed.  As a result, it's actually become general (though mostly un-acknowledged) policy for me to literally judge books by their covers.  True, it's a pretty prejudiced habit, but it's one that's actually proven trusty over the years so I generally follow it.

So when my librarian-friend, Sarah, stuck a copy of The Nonesuch in my hands, I was a bit apprehensive.  "Funny-looking regency dude in front of shrubbery" isn't exactly my idea of awesome cover material.  Still, Sarah has dependable literary taste, and she seemed so enthusiastic that I just had to read it.  

This ended up being one of those reading experiences that make me perhaps maybe sort of consider changing my position on books with fugly covers.  "Perhaps," I begin to think to myself, "maybe I should stop going only for the pretty books, because if I'd stuck hard and fast to the rule, I would have never read this piece!"  

The Nonesuch is one of those books that you (or, well, I) enjoy not because of any depth or profundity of subject matter, but because it has fabulous wit and style.  And because it was written by Georgette Heyer (an extremely prolific writer from the 1900s who is known both for her creation of the Regency England Romance genre and for her extremely well-researched books).  If you've run out of Jane Austen books and are feeling the pinch of Regency Withdrawal Syndrome, nothing could possibly serve as a better fix than Heyer's 50+ novels (except, perhaps, Austenland by Shannon Hale for it is in fact a CURE for Regency Addiction).  I digress.  Basically, the woman was a total beast (and I mean that, of course, in a good way).  

Back to the novel, plot first.  The Nonesuch takes place in the Yorkshire countryside during (as you might have guessed) the British Regency Era.  The plotline receives it's first push from a dead relative's bequeathment of his country property, Broom Hall, upon the already well-landed Sir Waldo Hawkridge, who is in fact the Nonesuch himself (for there is none such as him!  Oh-ho!  Clever!).  Sir Waldo is "of the Corinthian set", a "top o' the trees" sort of gent, and a bona-fide "pink of the Ton"--basically a bunch of crazy Regency terms used to describe his good breeding and general social admirability.  

At any rate, Sir Waldo and his cousin Lord Julian Lindeth set off to the countryside to investigate this property that Waldo has been given.  The news of Waldo's intended visit to Yorkshire precedes him and causes a considerable stir among the locals, and his arrival at Broom Hall kicks off a flurry of social activity in the area--a series of balls and dinners and parties all put together for the purpose of impressing and perhaps ensnaring the ever-sought-after Nonesuch.  

Aside from Lindeth and Waldo, the other principle characters are two lovely ladies:  Miss Theophania (Tiffany) Weild, heiress, and her governess-companion, Miss Ancilla Trent [Ancilla is such a cool name].  In short, Tiffany is the underaged heir to a considerable fortune who lives with her paternal Aunt Underhill at Staples Manor.  She is also very beautiful, headstrong, hideously selfish, and manipulative, and the only one who can keep her under a semblance of control is the cool, collected Miss Trent.  

Over the course of Sir Waldo's tenure at Broom Hall, he and his cousin meet Tiffany and Ancilla on many occasions, and due to Lindeth's infatuation with the lovely Tiffany, Waldo and Ancilla end up spending a great deal of time together.  This and that happen and, as one can guess, love can indeed bloom as late in life as at the absolutely decrepit age of twenty-six (ha ha ha).    

The Nonesuch was fabulously entertaining.  Because of her wealth of knowledge on the Regency Era, Georgette Heyer's writing rings very true in terms of grammar, style, and vocabulary.  Her use of ye olde school cant/language doesn't feel forced or fake like it tends to in a lot of other novels of the same type.  And, above and beyond that, she just really knows how to use said language to create bitingly sarcastic characters (and, oh, but don't I love tongue-in-cheek humor!).  Such fun!

I wouldn't call Georgette Heyer's works "classics"--they're not about to be taught in an English class or anything--but in terms of style and authenticity I'd say they're on par with a lot of the well-known Era stuff.  And they're fun, to boot!  

Positively anyone can read The Nonesuch, and if you are at all into BritLit and romance and witty banter, you most definitely should!  

Book 3: The Homecoming By Shashi Warrier

The Homecoming sat on my bookshelf at college for six months collecting dust along with the other 15+ books I foolishly took with me to school thinking I would actually have time to read.  I felt bad for not reading many (any) of them, but I felt extra-contrite about not reading this one for two reasons:  1)  Because my dad gave me this book, and 2) Because the author is a good family friend of ours.  

When I was a kid, Shashi Warrier (Shashi Uncle in our home) used to bring me drafts of his latest work in progress, the most memorable of which was a children's book by the name ofSuzy's Gift.  With this and the several other novels he has written since, however, it is clear that Warrier has moved out of the whimsical (though greatly entertaining) sphere of kid's lit and into more grave and thought-provoking subject matter.  

The Homecoming revolves around Javed Sharif, a rug-merchant, returning home to Srinagar, Kashmir for his elderly father's birthday.  After a lifetime of working to support his family, Javed looks forward to retiring soon in his beloved hometown in spite of the violent wartime that has begun to make itself known in Kashmir.  He is, at the onset of the novel, quite satisfied with his lot in life; he is fairly successful as a businessman, his three children (sons Irfan and Fawzi, and daughter Razia) are grown, and his relationship with his family is satisfactory.  Javed surveys his life's work and perceives a job well done.  

His peace, however, is disturbed when he and his younger son Irfan are arrested under suspected involvement with and sympathies for a brutal terrorist organization.  This event, which occurs some twenty or thirty pages into the novel, kick-starts the action and drives the story to a desperate, wrenching ending.  After a night in the local lock-up, Javed is released and cleared of all suspicion while his son is kept in detention.  Though he knows it will cost him his retirement, Javed resolves to spend as much time and money as is needed to get Irfan out of prison.  In a tale of pain, sacrifice, betrayal, and loss, Javed watches what he thought was a sturdy, healthy family life fall apart and, in a manner reminiscent of Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, suddenly finds himself without anything.  

To me, this book epitomizes the sentiment of having the rug yanked out from under your feet.  We begin with a settled, happy protagonist and end with a wholly different picture.  Warrier does an excellent job of painting both portraits, and of illustrating the series of events that brings the characters from one to the other.  He handles the matter of Irfan's guilt beautifully  and, while never giving the answer outright, puts out enough choice pieces of information to provide the reader with a clear verdict by the end of the novel.  He presents the reader with not just the story of a family, but also the story of a country at odds with itself and its people.  

The Homecoming spares no details, no matter how harrowing they might be, and leaves the reader with a startlingly honest picture of not only the Kashmir conflict, but also of the brutal potential, the irony, and the unyielding force of human nature.

It was a slow read almost until the end, so don't go for this one expecting an action thrill of any kind.  Because it was measured in pace, the plot allowed for a great deal of contemplation and speculation on the part of the reader.  This is one I definitely recommend for older audiences, perhaps 16+, simply due to the heavy/dense subject matter.  However, if you are a particularly precocious reader, nothing should stop you from reading this wonderfully moving, evocative novel.

Book 2: Q&A by Vikas Swarup

Q&A by Vikas Swarup is the novel that served as the inspiration for Slumdog Millionaire, and after being thoroughly impressed by the film I decided that I had to read the book for myself.  

I generally find myself unimpressed by the book-to-movie conversion; one or the other almost always disappoints, depending on which medium I was exposed to first.  However I found the novel just as impressive as the movie, and whileI can't say that I liked the novel more (though, usually, I do prefer novels to their film incarnations) I can say that I really enjoyed them quite equally.  The Q&A-to-Slumdog translation put out a product that, while retaining the fundamental and important elements of the story, deviated enough from the plot and feel of Q&A that it could be considered a different animal entirely--a relative, but not necessarily offspring of the founding novel.

But this isn't a review of Slumdog.

So I'll go back to focusing on Q&A.  

Q&A is about impoverished waiter Ram Mohammad Thomas (known as Jamal Malik in Slumdog Millionaire) and his life in the slums and chawls of Mumbai and Delhi.  When we first meet him, Ram Mohammad Thomas (RMT for short from here on out) is in prison on suspicion of cheating while competing on the TV game show "Who Will Win A Billion?" (a fictitious offshoot of "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?").  It is my personal opinion that the reader learns most of what there is to know about RMT in those first few pages that take place in the

prison.  Like in the movie, the questions on the game show serve as the mechanisms for the flashbacks that tell RMT's life story.  Through each chronologically displaced episode we get one more piece to the puzzle and learn, in time, what has driven RMT to be on the game show in the first place. 

There is no one clear genre for this novel.  It is a thriller in some senses, a romance in others, and certainly a tragedy and an epic.  Unlike the film, Q&A focuses much less on the love story and much more on...everything else.  We get a much clearer picture of RMT's early years and the events that shaped him and his ideals.  The novel is at once satisfying to the desire for a happy ending and at the same time brutally, unsettlingly honest.    

Reading the novel restores protagonist Ram Mohammad Thomas/Jamal to his place as a first-person narrator and, in doing so, added on all kinds of hilarious wit and snark to the narrative that hadn't been there in the film.  I love nothing btter than a snarky protagonist, and Ram Mohammad Thomas's voice is especially well-written.  It forced a wide range of emotional reactions; I laughed a lot, got angry frequently.  If I were the type to cry during books, I might've cried.  The story comes in wide, sweeping arcs that make the book easy to devour in just one sitting and impossible to tear yourself away from.  

As an Indian-American woman, I love Q&A for its honesty and its frank portrayal of India, complete with all of her strengths and weaknesses.  There is so much that is wrong with India.  But, at the same time, there is so much that is right.

I recommend this as a 12+ book, with a warning for language, violence, and mild sexual content. (But I still think everyone should read it!)