Friday, March 15, 2013

The Light Between Oceans

The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman (2012)

In the early 20s, young Tom Sherbourne has returned from the war to his native Australia and taken a position as lighthouse keeper at the secluded Janus Rock. After a couple of years he meets a woman named Isabel while on the mainland and marries her, bringing her to the lighthouse with him. Although they plan to have a family, Isabel suffers through one miscarriage after another. When she finally carries a baby close to term, it comes early and is stillborn. Just days after this final heartbreak, a boat washes ashore with the body of a dead man inside, and a still living infant. Tom and Isabel know they should alert the authorities immediately, but instead they take it as a sign and keep the baby as their own. As you can imagine, this plan is faulty and has dire consequences.

I loved the setting of this book, and everything about Tom's job as a lighthouse keeper. His job is such a unique one, and he takes it very seriously. There was something satisfying in the descriptions of his meticulous record-keeping and maintenance of the light. There aren't a lot of books set in Australia that I know about, and it was fun to read about Christmas celebrations taking place outside with various games and races for kids - what a different spin on that holiday!

Although the writing was lovely, I found the storyline a bit too contrived, various events coincidentally happening with the perfect timing to create more drama. Isabel was rather an enigma to me, which is unfortunate as she is so pivotal to the book. But I could never really put my finger on her as a character. She is portrayed quite differently after all the miscarriages from when they were first married; it's taken for granted that those experiences would change her, but there were crucial aspects of this character development that were missing. I never knew whether or not her choices were in character because I didn't know her character at all. I was much more sympathetic to Tom, who I liked a great deal, and a few of the other characters who became more important later.

Many people loved this book and the reviews were very strong. It's a compelling story and easy to fly through quickly, and I suppose that overall I liked it because of the setting and the beautiful, vivid writing. But all the while I was disliking Isabel, and feeling like the book was trying to manipulate my emotions in a way that was too transparent.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Alias Grace

Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood (1996)

In the early 1840s, a young Canadian housemaid and a fellow servent were accused of murdering their employer and his housekeeper/mistress. Margaret Atwood turned the sensational story into a novel about the young accused murderess, Grace Marks. When the novel begins, Grace is 24 and has already been in prison for 8 years. Public opinion is divided as to her guilt or innocence, and she has been inconsistent in her recounting of the crimes. A young doctor who is interested in mental health and hopes to secure funding for a new modern asylum, begins interviewing Grace in hopes of getting her to tell him the real story. Through their conversation we are taken back to Grace's early life as she recounts her experiences.

The story is told through Grace's first person narration as well as a third person perspective of Dr. Simon Jordan. Both are fascinating characters. Although they try to understand each other, it's clear that they never quite do. Every week Dr. Jordan brings an apple or root vegetable with him and puts it on the table between him and Grace because these items are stored in cellars, which is where the bodies the bodies were hidden, and he hopes to turn her thoughts and conversation towards the murders. He is unsuccessful in making his point clear though, and Grace always wonders why he asks her questions about vegetables.

Though earnest, Dr. Jordan is a bit misguided and, as it turns out, rather weak in character. But he truly wants to help Grace. I really enjoyed watching his character develop throughout the book even though I didn't especially like where things went with him.

I think I believed Grace to be innocent from the very start, probably because I found her so likable. She was very practical, down-to-earth and fond of folksy sayings like "ill words butter no parsnips" and "There is no use crying over spilt milk if you don't know whether the milk is spilt or not, and if God alone knew, then God alone could tidy it up if necessary." This woman lays it out on the line and isn't afraid to stick up for herself. But if you want to know whether or not she was guilty of the crimes, you'll have to read the book for yourself.

The chapters of the book were grouped into sections and each section began with a number of quotations and excerpts. There was always a quote from Life in the Clearings by Susanna Moodie (1853), a book which contains her (questionable) observations about the case. Those excerpts were rather fascinating and her work was referred to in the novel. In addition to these excerpts, Atwood included bits of poetry and whatnot, the sort of thing which I always find to be just filler. Does anyone pay attention to those? I'm sure they are somehow supposed to relate to what's going on in that section, but by the time I start reading the text I've totally forgotten about all those quotes. I can't be alone in this.

I was glad when my book group picked this to read because I had been wanting to read (or re-read) some Margaret Atwood. I read Alias Grace when it first came out, back when I was reading Atwood regularly. She hasn't written many novels recently, but the third book in the MaddAddam Trilogy is due out this fall so I'm thinking of starting Oryx and Crake and then continuing on to finish the series. I'd also like to read The Handmaid's Tale again, since I haven't read it since my early 20s. Either way, I see more Margaret Atwood in my future.

Monday, March 11, 2013

In This Light

In This Light: New and Selected Stories by Melanie Rae Thon (2011)

In This Light has been on my to-read list since my friend Kevin reviewed it for the Boston Globe almost two years ago. Most of the nine stories included were published in her earlier works, but they were all new to me and fit together quite well, thematically as well as stylistically.

Thon's characters are poor, troubled, grief-stricken, guilty, and desperate and we are visiting the darkest parts of their souls in their worst moments. Each story is exquisitely crafted with startling, vivid images, and each one was as emotionally powerful as the last. In "Punishment" a slave is hanged for the death of her master's son, and the story contains some of the most haunting scenes in the book.  In "Father, Lover, Deadman, Dreamer" the narrator reveals that she hit and killed a Native American man, and her father helps cover up the crime. I think one of the most vivid images in the whole book was young Dora lying inside an abandoned refrigerator in a field in "Necessary Angels."

The author employs some narration styles that are difficult and complicated but which she pulls off expertly. The voices bob and weave, take unexpected turns, a third person narrative suddenly talking directly to you in a way most unnerving. She even handles second person narration deftly, a style which usually comes off either awkward or pompous. Thon is both extremely talented and completely unpretentious.

I read this slowly over the course of a month. I'd only pick it up if I had time to read a full story, and never read more than one in a sitting. I don't think I could handle more than one of these stories at a time, they are so emotionally wrenching. When I finished I considered going back and reading some of them again because I felt like I'd get more out of them upon a second reading, and they certainly deserve it. Instead I took it right back to the library and put it on my Staff Picks display in the hope that some library patron would happen upon it. I'm surprised this writer isn't more well known, but I'll certainly be recommending her.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

The Sun Also Rises

The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway (1926)


I last read this classic Hemingway book back in high school, along with The Great Gatsby, for a project on the Lost Generation. All I remembered about it was a bunch of American expatriates in Europe, getting drunk and going to bull fights. But surely there was more to it than that. High school was a long time ago. Last week I read it again for a booktalk at work and was surprised to find that I really wasn't forgetting much. The Sun Also Rises is short on plot, but long on hedonism and feelings of disillusionment.

The narrator is Jake Barnes, injured in World War I, now drifting aimlessly around Europe. He is joined by other friends, most notably Lady Brett Ashley, not yet divorced but already being fought over by two of Jake's friends before she runs off with a bullfighter named Pedro Romero who is much too young for her.

Hemingway's style is not for everyone. He writes in a series of short, declarative sentences. I did this, then I did something else, then I went here, then I bought two more bottles of wine, etc. There is little description or emotional depth and though his style isn't my favorite, I at least find it easy to read. And there were a few moments with just enough description to convey the wonderful feeling of, for instance, lunch on a sunny day outside in an old European city.

It's hard to feel bad for these disillusioned folks, as unhappy as they are. Although they frequently complain about not having enough money, they seem to manage ok considering that none of them seem to have jobs. (A couple are writers, but don't seem to ever be writing.) They manage to pay for the hotels they stay in, the food they eat, the bullfights, and the copious amounts of alcohol they consume.

Perhaps when I was in high school I was convinced that if I played my cards right, this could be my life. Of course it's not the 1920s and my life isn't a work of fiction, so now it all seems rather unreal. It's always interesting to read a book I last read so many years ago, and it was an interesting little trip down memory lane. If I had to read more Hemingway it wouldn't be a terrible thing, but I probably won't make a point of it.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

The Adoration of Jenna Fox

The Adoration of Jenna Fox by Mary E. Pearson (2008)

Jenna has been in a terrible accident that she can't remember, and wakes up in a body that she must learn to use again after a year in a coma. She can't remember anything about her life. She only knows what her parents tell her and what she learns from the home videos they have left her to watch. As she learns more about herself she starts asking a lot of questions, and when her parents aren't forthcoming with answers she is determined to find them herself.

I like this kind of book, where the protagonist doesn't really know what's going on and the reader learns the answers slowly along with her. Although the narrative is fairly simple and straightforward, the story asks a lot of big questions about bioethics and how far we should go to save a life. The science in this book may be leaps ahead of what's available today, but the questions are still relevant and ones that should be asked before the technology is available. I read this for my Not-So-Young Adult book group at work and I think it will make for a really good discussion.

Jenna was rather a wisp of a character, which I supposed makes sense given how little she even knows about herself, but I liked watching her grow into a more fully-formed character. We didn't get a whole lot of information about her world, mostly learning about medical technology and regulations and I think the story could have benefitted from the society being a little more fleshed out. These same issues would affect so many other aspects of one's life and I was curious about that.

Perhaps there's more information in the sequels. There are two follow-ups to this volume, which take place in the far future. The second book is centered around Jenna's friends Kara and Locke, who were in the accident with her. Although she felt their loss deeply, they weren't fully-formed enough for me to care about them, but they might be in the second book in which they are more prominently featured. I don't think I'm intrigued enough to keep going with the series, but if the subject is one that interests you, you couldn't go wrong - this was a fast, easy read and I'm sure it would take little effort to zip through all three.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Sunday Knitting

Here is the finished project I gave you just a little hint of last week:


I made these for a coworker who hopefully isn't looking at this today. If so, um, surprise! Here's a preview of the gift you're getting tomorrow!

These baby boots are from a free pattern called Closeknit's Striped Baby Boots, which is a free Ravelry download. The pattern is fairly detailed and even includes some photos but I still found it a bit confusing. There's a part where you decrease and then immediately increase again, which makes no sense. And maybe the increases are supposed to be a different spot but it's really difficult to tell from the way the pattern is worded (and there's no photo for that part, alas). Anyhow, they are pretty cute little booties anyhow.

I used some Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino I bought at my recent little shopping spree at Windsor Button. It's a blend of wool, microfiber and cashmere. I've been wanting to make something blue and brown striped for ages and I really like how that came out.


Friday, March 1, 2013

Twilight Sleep

Twilight Sleep by Edith Wharton (1927)

Pauline Manford's family is unhappy and falling apart in all kinds of ways, but she can't deal with reality and instead relies on a busy schedule of meaningless engagements, rest cures and a series of spiritual healers to fill the void of her days. Her greatest satisfaction is in spending ever more money on expanding and improving her home and gardens, paying the huge bills, and counting the money still in the bank. She's too "busy" to visit an acquaintance with cancer or talk to her ex-husband about an important matter and so enlists her daughter Nona to do so for her.

Nona feels anxious and oppressed as though by the weight of everything her mother refuses to shoulder, and is unhappily pining away after a married man. Pauline's husband Dexter is tired of her superficial life and is drawn to his step-son's wife, Lita, which goes completely without notice by Pauline. Lita wants to run off and be in the movies, but Pauline seems to think she can be convinced she doesn't want to. Pauline believes that if she says everything is fine, it will surely be so.

The phrase "twilight sleep" refers to an insensibility to pain without losing consciousness, and that is state that Pauline strives for. She does it without drugs, instead relying upon whatever dubious spiritual healer is currently in vogue, and her own vast powers of denial. She speaks at various charity engagements, not even realizing that the organizations she is supporting conflict with one another in their goals. Her friends are just as superficial and ridiculous as she is. One, Mrs. Landish, has become so obsessed with Vikings she has redone her house to reflect that style. She becomes upset when the rushes she wants to cover her floor with aren't available and she has to settle for commissioning handwoven rugs from Abyssinia. We can presume these efforts will all be for naught when Mrs. Landish discovers a new fad.

This satirical novel about bored people filling their empty lives with meaningless activities - work, affairs, fake spirituality - was never very popular and from the reviews I've read, some people find it really dull but I didn't. The funny thing is that I read it YEARS ago and all I remembered was that I liked it. And that it had something to do with drugs. It has nothing to do with drugs, and much of it is so subtle that I'm surprised I liked it so much. But maybe I was just much more enthralled with the 20s than I am now (and I suspect my brain worked better in my youth.) I still liked it well enough, and I think it really does capture the era nicely. It's not especially well-known, but if you like the 1920s and/or Edith Wharton, I think it's required reading.