bookrblog

Her Fearful Symmetry

Sunday, October 18th, 2009 | American Literature | No Comments

I was a little nervous about this new novel by Audrey Niffenegger, as so many reviewers commented onbeing disappointed by how different it was from her previous novel. It is different; it actually resembles her graphic novels, with the obsession with twins and the supernatural. It’s about a set of identical twins, daughters of another identical twins, who are left an apartment and a fortune by their mother’s sister (her twin), who has just died. And who happens to be a ghost in the apartment. There’s a big secret - why have the two older sisters been estranged all their lives - and some fascinating characters living in the apartment building, and a wonderful setting, the Highgate cemetery. However, the silly ending does let the book down, I think. She is a very good writer and I did enjoy this, but I was disappointed by the way she tied up all the different characters in the end, and the way it got more and more absurd. I think it would have been a far better book if she’d restrained herself; it’s quite good, but not great, which is probably why it’s a disappointment after her previous book. But - I did enjoy it.

An Exact Replica of a Figment of my Imagination

Tuesday, October 13th, 2009 | American Literature | No Comments

This sad little memoir by Elizabeth McCracken is about her experience of losing her first son; he was stillborn. She and her husband had been living in France and had gone two weeks overdue when he died; she had no idea this was a risk factor. In the womb, they had called him “pudding”; when they legally had to name him in France, they still called him pudding and being France, no one questioned it.

Experiences like this are just like being in a foreign country with a strange language and new customs and a new way of living. The fact that they were living in France makes it an extended metaphor; they return to the US for their next baby. Only people who have “been there” really know how to comfort Elizabeth; many old friends abandon them or hurt them unwittingly with their lack of understanding.

This is a small sad book, a little bitter and a little bewildered, trying to memorialise something  - someone - through literature who should have been part of life. I understand it.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies

Sunday, October 4th, 2009 | American Literature | No Comments

I bought this book by Seth Grahame-Smith as a bit of a laugh, but it wasn’t particularly funny. It was actually really gruesome with lots of gross detail, a lot of silly sexual innuendo, and with big chunks copied directly from the original - making his americanised dialogue sounds more than ridiculous. It’s a good gimmick which has been lucrative for him, but it’s barely readable, unless you are a real zombie fan.

Hons and Rebels

Sunday, August 9th, 2009 | American Literature | No Comments

In keeping with my latest Mitford interest, I’ve just finished this book by Jessica Mitford, which is her version of the events of her childhood, the circumstances around her escape, and her life in America with her first husband. It’s a witty and poignant portrait, with Unity portrayed far more sympathetically than Diana, and with all the girls seeming absolutely wild and more than a handful for their parents. The most interesting part for me is the portrait of her husband, Esmond Rommily, Churchill’s nephew. What an amazing life he had! Running away from school and setting up a safe-house for other boys who ran away from their public schools; starting an incredibly successful magazine which sold in its thousands and broached topics unbelievably ahead of its day; and then going to fight in Spain against the facists. He ended up dying in WW2 as a fighter pilot; what a waste, at the age of just 23.

This really is a beautiful story of a couple in love, who didn’t get to grow together with the years, and a humorous picture of a group of really brilliant girls torn apart by the politics of the era. Not accurate, perhaps, but accurate to Jessica’s feelings. A must-read.

Wings of the Falcon

Sunday, August 9th, 2009 | American Literature | No Comments

While this novel by “Barbara Michaels”, aka Elizabeth Peters, is ostensibly a mystery, it’s actually a very fascinating overview of a period in Italian history of which I know very little; the unification of the different city-states under Garibaldi. In this version, a half-English heiress is brought to an Italy she knows nothing of, due to the estrangement of her parents from her grandfather. She’s shepherded by a mysterious but resourceful Miss Perkins, and surrounded by the political divisions in her family - those who support the pope, and those who support Garibaldi. Everything points towards someone close to her being “The Falcon”, a sort of freedom fighter for the peasantry - but Francesca does make a few mistakes about his identity.

This is an enjoyable and informative read, with well-drawn characters and a good sense of suspense (Peters writes a lot of mysteries).  The unique aspect is that Francesca is not the courageous and intelligent heroine; it’s the quiet Miss Perkins who solves the mystery and acts to save the day - even if it’s Francesca who gets the hero in the end. This was  a clever and well-crafted mystery, as well as a good introduction to a particular era in Italian history.

The Nanny Diaries

Saturday, July 18th, 2009 | American Literature | No Comments

This book by Nicola Kraus and Emma McLaughlin rose fast to popularity and sunk just as quickly; I bought it for a dollar at the local markets. It’s billed as a comedy, but it’s too sad for that. It’s the story of a uni student acting as nanny to a poor little rich boy, aware of all the secrets of the household and unable to do anything about it, even unable to protect the boy. This story fails because the author reveals too much, too soon; she doesn’t lose any innocence, because she already knows what the rich are like; she doesn’t gain any wisdom, because she believes the fault is simply in being rich. This is a tragic little tale of people who ignore treasure to go after dross; but it’s really told better in a fable, perhaps not the golden goose, but something like it.

A Walk in the Woods

Saturday, July 18th, 2009 | American Literature | No Comments

This little travelogue by Bill Bryson is a little funny, a little interesting, and a little annoying (probably like the author). It’s about the Appalachian Trail which is a long trail through woodlands in the East Coast of the USA. It was good to hear that there are still trees in America, and some wildness in the woods. His characterisations of the people are so harsh that you cringe, though. And he goes on and on about the dangers (I recall he did that in the Australian one too, the wuss). In the end he gives up, but it’s not that you can’t understand, it’s more why he started in the first place. A kind of bizarrely entertaining read.

The Singing Creek Where the Willows Grow

Sunday, June 28th, 2009 | American Literature | No Comments

This diary by Opal Whiteley has to be the most unusual book I’ve come across. This edition has been put together by Benjamin Hoff, who has added a biography and afterword which are just as strange as the diary itself. I had never heard of Opal Whiteley, who was born in 1897 in Oregon. She was fascinated by nature from an early age and knew more about the local flora and fauna than most people twice her age. She ended up having little groups where she taught children about nature and spirituality, was given a scholarship to study natural science despite being from a very poor background, wrote a book which was honoured by people from Roosevelt to Conan Doyle, travelled to Europe and India, and was eventually institutionalised in England for the last 50 years of her life. Pretty astounding.

Her diary is controversial, because a year after it was published in 1920 it was discredited as a fake - ie, that Opal wrote it as an adult rather than as a child. However, I don’t think it really matters, because it’s good writing either way. It’s all about nature and about the people in her small world. It has an entirely unique voice and literary style. It is a very unusual view and whether that’s because she was suffering a mental illness or because she was incredibly gifted, it doesn’t really matter. An intriguing read.

The Story of My Life/The World I Live In

Saturday, June 20th, 2009 | American Literature | No Comments

These two books are by Helen Keller, who lived an amazing life. After becoming deaf and blind as a toddler, she ended up not only learning to communicate in several forms of sign language and braille, but also to speak, and then learned French, German and Latin! She got her degree at Radcliffe and became an outspoken supporter of socialism, supporting the republicans during the Spanish Civil War. Obviously an incredibly gifted woman, with a lot of passion and even rage, she was also a good writer.

The Story of My Life, written at 20, covers her early experiences and her studies. She certainly travelled a lot and met  lot of famous people. The World I Live In consists of some writings, including thoughts on language, on the senses, on dreams. I think her writings on the hand are the best - lyrical and fascinating. An amazing, gifted person, and we’re very fortunate to have her writings.

The Horse Boy

Friday, April 10th, 2009 | American Literature | No Comments

This book by Rupert Isaacson has to easily be the weirdest book about autism ever - but I still kind of liked it. Two travellers who met in India fall in love, get married, have a baby - and the baby is a little boy called Rowan who has autism. They decide against ABA fairly quickly (too expensive and the therapists are freaky), try an autism nursery school where Rowan is stressed-out and picks up behaviours from other kids, and then go with hanging round people from the local hippie commune. Which then leads to, of course, a trip to visit all the shamans in Mongolia. Why Mongolia? Because Rowan seems to have a particular affinity with horses, and that’s a horse-loving country.

The trip through Mongolia is hazardous and involves lots of strange stuff, like Rupert and his wife being beaten with whips by Shamans. But in the end, Rowan calms down a bit and finally works out toilet-training. They go home and devote their lives to using horses with kids with autism.

I guess why I like it is because Rupert et al acknowledge how weird it all is, and because I like reading about travel and autism, so it’s sort of two in one. Shamans curing autism? Nope. Intensive family time without stresses of nursery school making a difference? Absolutely. Probably the one thing every autism intervention has in common is the provision of structure, of one kind or another, and the provision of adult time, whether from a therapist or from a parent. Seeing research seems to say it doesn’t matter which intervention you choose, going to Mongolia is just as logical and locking your kid in a room for eight hours a day with a therapist you’ve just met. An interesting, if bizarre, read.