Diary From Dixie

Diary from DixieChestnut, Mary Boykin. A Diary from Dixie. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1949.

From the moment I started reading Mrs. Chestnut’s diary I felt I was in for gossip, gossip, gossip. While this is a great first hand account of life during the Civil War, I couldn’t get over how much of a name-dropping, political hob-nobbing, party-going Southerner she was! Another thing I noticed  was how humorous Mrs. Chestnut was! Here are a few of her more comical entries:

“There Mrs. Hunter told us a joke that made me sorry I had come” (p 8). But, she never does explain the joke was! Too bad!
“At camp meeting he got religion, handed round the hat, took the offering to the Lord down into the swamp to pray over it, untied his horse and fled with it, hat, contribution and all” (p 13).
“I think this journal will be disadvantageous for me, for I spend my time now like a spider, spinning my own entrails, instead of reading as my habit in all my spare moments” (p 22). See, gossip, gossip!
“Every woman in the house is ready to rush into the Florence Nightingale business” (p 70). Good ole fashion jealousy, perhaps?

I think the only quote to get to me showed the attitudes of the time, “Women need maternity to bring out their best and true loveliness” (p 86). We’ve been here before.

All in all, Mary Chestnut’s diary was a delight to read. I fell in love with some of the language: flinders, rataplan, brickbat, and best of all, envenom. Love that word! Witty and humorous, it didn’t read like a history textbook. Instead, it gave texture to the sounds and sights and warmth to the personalities from the Civil War. More importantly, it gave a sense of what it was like to be a woman during that time.

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust and the chapter called “Civil War Nonfiction” (p 58).

Crossley Baby (with spoiler)

Crossley BabyCarey, Jacqueline. The Crossley Baby. New York: Ballantine, 2003.

November is National Adoption Month. Out of everything I am currently reading, I thought this would be my favorite. I’m sorry to say I was a little disappointed. The Crossley Baby is the story of two sisters (Sunny & Jean) battling for their dead sister (Bridget)’s baby. Well, that’s what it’s supposed to be about. Instead, it’s more of a commentary on wealth (Jean has it, Sunny does not), parenting (Sunny is a mother of two, Jean is not) and manipulation (they both do it, for one reason or another). More time is spent setting up where Jean, Sunny and Bridget came from than the actual adoption process. More time is spent on describing the vast financial differences between Sunny and Jean than on their personalities. By the end of the book I didn’t know Jean or Sunny any better so I didn’t care who got the baby. I was completely indifferent to their struggle for baby Jade. Probably what bothered me most was the lack of real grief shown by either sister over the death of their elder sister. Crossley adds flickers of sadness, glimpses of sorrow, but for the most part Bridget’s death goes mostly unmourned. Possibly that is because they never got along. If there is one thing the three sisters did really well it was avoiding closeness.
In the end, Sunny wins custody. Everything points in the direction of Jean winning – money, power, people in her corner – while Sunny’s husband is filing for bankruptcy, old favors aren’t worth cashing in, and they have to sell their home. In a last minute surprise ending Jean withdraws her application for adoption and doesn’t contest the award going to Sunny. No one from Bridget’s life is there to put in a word edgewise.
Ironically enough, it was Bridget who was my favorite character because of this one line, “Bridget tasted her words before she spoke…” (p 112).

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust and the very first chapter called “Adapting to Adoption” (p 1).

Bad Land: An American Romance

Bad LandRaban, Jonathan. The Bad Land: an American Romance.

In honor of both the month Montana became a state and National Train Month I put Bad Land  on my list. It reads like a river. Some parts read like racing rapids while others slow to languid pools of near stillness. Then there are the waterfalls, where the language is cascading awe-inspiring. It was during these “waterfall” sections that I wanted to pack a bag and head west, just to see it for myself.

Raban helps you look at Montana from the point of view of the immigrant (emigrant), the artist, the ancestor, the traveler, the naturalist. Like standing back from a canvas to discover hidden colors. It’s a historical story, lyrically descriptive and informative. It’s a biography of the landscape as well as the people settled there at the turn of the century.
Favorite lines:”…mouth like a mailbox” (p 67).
“Mrs. Nemitz, scenting sarcasm, put his face on trial for a split second, but found it not guilty” (p 104).
“It’s exhilarating and scary, to lighten ship every so often, to kiss goodbye to the accumulated tonnage of ones life so far” (p 114)
“now the book is full of brittle ghosts” (p 136).

BookLust Twist: Mentioned twice in Book Lust. Once in the chapter called “Montana: In Big Sky Country” (p 156)…in which Pearl calls Bad Land  “the best book about Montana by a non-Montanan” (p 157); and “Riding the Rails: Railroad History” (p 201).

The Way Men Act

Way Men ActLipman, Elinor. The Way Men Act. New York: Washington Square Press, 1992.

 I had to laugh when I wrote out the title of this blog. Yet another one that could be misconstrued as something juicy and personal. I guess I could write a whole dissertation on the way men act towards me, but that wouldn’t be the book review that this is intended to be.

Elinor Lipman celebrates a birthday in October so it was only appropriate that I try to squeeze in a novel of hers in the last days of the dying month. I have met Lipman before (at a local conference) so it was no surprise to discover The Way Men Act takes place in “my” town. While thinly veiled as somewhere else it was easy to recognize the landmarks and quirks that make up where I live. I have to admit that made reading The Way Men Act a little difficult. The entire time I pictured real store fronts, real schools, real people.
All in all I breezed through this book because it was a simple read. The kind of chick lit you crawl in the bath with and can read in one soak. The plot isn’t complicated, only fun fun fun, the way chick lit is supposed to read. Lipman’s heroine, Melinda LeBlanc returns home to Harrow. She has mixed feelings about being back where she grew up as if being home implies she didn’t make it in the real world. She comes back (single at 30) to work in her cousin’s flower shop. Her job is sandwiched between two other come-home-again classmates from high school: Libby, a fashion designer with her own shop, and Dennis, a wiz at tying flies for fishing for his own shop. In addition to being hung up on being home, Melinda has issues with educational status (Harrow is a snobby college town and she only has a high school degree) and of course, men. The ending was predictable. Melinda is too talented to be working for someone else, and yes, she’s gets the guy.

Favorite line: “Could a man hate me that strenuously that the weight of it would flip itself over and come up again as love?” (p 49)
I flagged other lines only to realize it wasn’t the wording I admired so much. It was Melinda’s relationship with her mother. Every scene had me envious of their obvious closeness.

BookLust Twist: Mentioned twice in Book Lust once in the chapter “Elinor Lipman: Too Good To Miss (p 146), and “My Own Private Dui” (p 165).  The latter chapter begs an explanation: Pearl has her own classification system for her books and The Way Men Act falls under the category of “books I reread when I’m feeling blue” (p 166).

Bean Trees

Bean TreesKingsolver, Barbara. The Bean Trees.New York: HarperPerennial, 1989. 

Barbara Kingsolver is my favorite author. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I love the way she writes. The Bean Trees is on my Book Lust list and I’ve already read it hundreds of time. It’s the book I grab when I am in between other reads. It’s the book I reach for when I have a few minutes to kill while the rice bubbles on the stove. Given the chance to read it again just for Book Lust I am more than happy to jump at the chance.

Taylor Greer isn’t Taylor until she takes to the highway. Leaving her hometown of Kentucky to see something other than small town rumors and ruts she finds herself on the road, “adopting” a three year old American Indian girl on the way then finally landing in Tucson, Arizona.  Taylor is smart, witty and, for lack of a better word, feisty. She tells us her story with great observance to the spirit of humanity.

One of the things I love about Kingsolver’s work is the reoccurring themes: respect for nature described in gorgeous, vibrant detail, immigration and the political implications, the joys and struggles of motherhood (especially the single mother), the value of both belonging to a community and having independence. The Bean Trees is no different. All of these themes are carefully woven into the framework of the novel.

My favorite lines (okay some of them): “Whatever you want the most, it’s going to be the worst thing for you” (p 62).
“There were two things about Mama. One is she always expected the best out of me. And the other is that then no matter what I did, whatever I came home with, she acted like it was the moon I had just hung up in the sky and plugged in all the stars. Like I was that good” (p 10).

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust’s first chapter called”Adapting to Adoption” (p 1). I have to admit I don’t agree with Pearl’s description of how Taylor “acquires” the American Indian child. Pearl says “When Taylor Greer leaves Kentucky for points west in order to escape the confines of small-town life, she finds an abandoned and abused Cherokee child left in her car…” (p 2). It actually went more like this: “Then she set this bundle down on the seat of my car. “Take this baby,” she said….”where do you want me to take it?” She looked back at the bar, and then looked at me. “Just take it.” I waited a minute, thinking that soon my mind would clear and I would understand what she was saying. It didn’t.” (The Bean Trees p 17). This is a poignant scene to me and it makes a big difference (to me) whether the child was left or handed over.

ps~ November is National Adoption month. I reread this just a tad early.

Red Zone Blues

Escobar, Pepe. Red Zone Blues: A Snapshot of Baghdad During the Surge. Ann Arbor: Nimble Books, L.L.C., 2007.

The following was what I posted on LibraryThing  a while ago. I forgot that it has a place here as well.

Red Zone Blues was like reading something by a politically focused Anthony Bourdain. Escabar’s language was gritty, sarcastic, and colorful. His opinions are not veiled in the least. The prologue seemed to be added just for shock value, something to get the reader revved up for more. Each subsequent chapter was short, like a stand-alone essay, written with sarcasm and thought-provoking observation. While the “essays” seemed disjointed, each was a mere glimpse into a certain time period of Iraq: a refugee’s visa troubles, a road-side arrest, the sniper infested society just to name a few. Each chapter was a quick and dirty peep show of the culture, the people and politics of Iraq. It left you wanting more, squirming all the while.

** This blog has the tag “RandomHouse” even though it is not a Random House publication. When I first started the Early Reviewer program I thought I would be reviewing titles only published through Random House (and thus created the tag). I needed a tag that would differentiate book reviews written for the Book Lust challenge from those written for the Early Reviewer program. **

Update on the Lust

I’m approaching 100 books in the Book Lust challenge. I’m proud of this because 1) I have been reading Random House books at the same time (I’ve read four so far with another one the way). 2) I started a new job so I’m not only reading “How to be a director” bullsh!t but I’m reading up on how to get my library ready for NEASC. In other words, I don’t read what I want to all the time.

I’ve amended my “rules” too. I had to with all the book reviews I’ve been asked to do. It just seemed like the right thing to do.
And I’ve come up with a strategy for how to decide when to read certain books. It will take me some time to compile the data but since I have four days of alone time coming up and I’m not going anywhere for Thanksgiving (have to work) I’ll make the time.

What I’m reading now:
Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver

Song of Solomon

Song of SolomonMorrison, Toni. Song of Solomon. New York: Plume, 1987.

Another must-read from the days in Maine. Although, I don’t remember reading it then. I don’t remember reading it, ever. Is that sad or what? This is a classic. Something everyone should read.

I don’t think I could summarize the plot adequately. Basically, it’s the story of Macon “Milkman” Dead III. He got the nickname Milkman from being breastfed by his mother way past infancy. But, this story goes beyond coming-of-age; it transcends stereotypical stories of racial strife and strained family relations. Yes, there is all of that. This is a story that has been described as tragic and magic in the same line. It may be a story about one man’s rise to adulthood, but it is told from many different points of view. We learn about Milkman’s ancestry and the culture of his time. Morrison weaves imagery and symbolism together so that everything important means something different. Family names are not just names. They come from religion, mistaken identity and social injustice. Family ties are tethered and severed through love and hate, peace and violence, poverty and wealth. One man’s perception is another man’s reality.

Quotes I liked: “I’m on the thin side of evil and trying not to break through” (p 21).
“He wouldn’t know what to feel until he knew what to think” (p 75).
“She was the third beer” (p 91).

BookLust Twist: Toni Morrison is mentioned twice in Book Lust. Song of Solomon is in the chapter “100 Good Reads, Decade by Decade” (p 175) under the section 1970s. 

Turn of the Screw

James, Henry. The Turn of the Screw. New York: Dutton, 1963.Turn of the Screw

Even though October is more than half over I decided to read something scary for the rest of the month…in honor of Halloween and all that. Turn of the Screw seemed like the most obvious choice. A novella only 160 pages long, I knew it wouldn’t take too long to get through.
Written in 1898 and republished numerous times Turn of the Screw has also been  adapted for the stage, television and the big screen. Someone told me it was even mentioned in an episode of “Lost” (I wouldn’t know).  James’s technique is to tell the story within a frame – one story within another. We are first introduced to a man at a Christmas party telling a tale of a governess. From there we are in the story, told from the point of view of the governess. She has been hired to look after two small children after their parents are killed and they are sent to live on an uncle’s estate. Soon after the governess’s arrival she starts to notice strange occurrences, shadowy figures stalking the grounds. She learns they are former lovers and hired hands, back to supposedly recreate their relationship through the children.
While James uses words like “hideous”, “sinister”, “detestable”, and “dangerous”, there is great debate as to exactly what he is describing as so terrible. He refers to evil again and again, but his ghosts are not the usual specters. They only hint at danger rather than taking action and “attacking”. The other great debate is whether the governess is insane (or goes insane while at Bly). Because no one else really backs up her ghost sightings you have to wonder.

BookLust Twist: Mentioned several times in Book Lust. Once in the chapter called “Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror” (p 113) and “Ghost Stories” (p 99). I would agree that The Turn of the Screw deserves ghost story status, but horror? Maybe I’m stuck in slasher movie mode where everything horrible has to end up in blood and gore.

Black Dog of Fate: a memoir

Black Dog of FateBalakian, Peter. Black Dog of Fate: a memoir. New York: Random House, 1998.

I must have started this book four or five times. I don’t know what it was about the beginning. I’d pick it up, read for a few pages and put it down again, never getting beyond the first chapter. By the time I’d return to pick it back up I had forgotten what I had read and needed to start all over again. Page one. Finally, I took Black Dog of Fate home with me Columbus Day weekend and read it from start to finish. When I was finally able to devote the time and attention to it I couldn’t put it down.
There are very few books I try to push on other people. Very rarely do I try to tell people what I have read and how I feel about it, urging them to see for themselves. This story was different. From the moment I put it down I found myself struggling to put into words what had moved me so yet I needed to say something.

Here’s what I wrote within seconds of finishing it on Monhegan:
It’s the history you don’t commonly read about. It has the facts everyone would like to wish away; a genocide too horrible to imagine as real. The Armenian Massacre wasn’t a standard topic in my history class. As a rule I think we, as a society, want to sweep all and every horrific moment under our subconscious. This is a memoir about a boy’s growing knowledge and deeper understand of his heritage. True to adolescent ambivilance Balakian doesn’t understand the importance of his ancestry. In his youth all the stories his grandmother wanted to tell him were lost on him. It’s only after he is ready does his grandmother’s words mean anything to him. “I came to find out more about the arid Turkish plain when I picked up a book at a time when I was prepared to read it” (p 147).  

Other lines that struck me:
“…she would pass me the salty green nuts so we could celebrate with our teeth” (p 13). I think food is always the most appropriate way to celebrate.
“Hokee, soul. Hankids, rest. The soul’s rest: a memorial” (p 140).

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in the chapter “A Geography of Family and Place” (p 97).

Yellow Raft in Blue Water

Yellow raft in blue waterDorris, Michael. A Yellow Raft in Blue Water. New York: Warner Books, 1987.

This is high school to me. I remember being holed up somewhere reading this nonstop. Hot off the press, freshly published and oh so new I couldn’t put it down. I reread it and reread it until finally I could move on to other Michael Dorris creations, which somehow were never quite as good. Nothing compared to A Yellow Raft in Blue Water back then and it is still a faovrite to this day.

Someone described this book as an onion, reading it was like peeling back the layers of a story, and while that imagery is accurate enough, I like to think of Yellow Raft as a game of telephone. First, there is Rayona. She tells the story from her perspective. She is all of fifteen years old…at that difficult age where rebellion against your mother is the easiest thing to do. As she says, “when mom and I have conversations, they mostly involve subjects not personal to our lives” (p 26). She tells her story like it’s the honest truth. Then, there is Christine, her alcoholic mother, and her story. In the beginning you want to hate her for how seemingly unfair she had been to Rayona. But, learning about Christine’s heartbreak you realize Rayona’s reality is only her perception. The wires of communication have been crossed and in some cases, completely disconnected. Christine had her reasons for everything she did (and didn’t do). “I never had been good company for myself” says Christine (p 185). Finally, there is Ida, Christine’s mother. Her story is, by far, the most revealing and tragic. Everything you heard whispered from Rayona through Christina is trapped in the warped truth of Ida. All three women are stubborn, flawed by fate, and determined to make the best of life as they know it even if it means coming off as cruel to others. Being on the inside, privy to their hearts, makes you want to shake each one screaming, “talk to your daughter!”

Favorite lines:
“Ghosts were more lonesome than anything else. They watched the living through a thick plate of glass, a one-way mirror” (p176).
“A bath brought me peace, made me float free” (p340).

BookLust Twist: In both Book Lust and More Book Lust. In Book Lust Pearl mentions A Yellow Raft in Blue Water early; on page 23 in the chapter “American Indian Literature.” In the chapter “Men Chanelling Women” (p 166) in More Book Lust Pearl adds A Yellow Raft in Blue Water because Michael Dorris does an amazing job setting the voices of three very different women free.

Another Book Break

So, I had just finished Map of the World and I was trying to decide between All the King’s Men, Moo, Things They Carried and Road From Coorain. I admit, I started each of them at one time or another this week. None of them grabbed me right away. I absolutely hate that – when a book doesn’t hook me within the first five pages. I don’t know what it is about the number five but I’d like to be drawn into the plot at least by page five.  I know, I know! That doesn’t give the author much time to bedazzle me but that’s that I’m looking for.

Yesterday the reading dilemma (if you can call it that) was resolved. As some of you know, I’m a LibraryThing Early Reviewer. From time to time I review not-yet-published books and tell ’em what I think. I’m not your standard reviewer. I don’t pour over the books looking for errors, I don’t critique style or continuity within an inch of its literary life, I don’t look for the proverbial gun to go off by the second act. In short, I have no clue why LT asked me to be an early reviewer in the first place. At any rate, there have been three chances to review and I have been selected all three times. Instead of trying to find the next BookLust book I’ll be reading Red Zone Blues: A Snapshot of Baghdad During the Surge by Pepe Escobar. I’m nervous. I won’t lie. I’m really nervous. I guess it’s the subject matter that has me so apprehensive. War vs Anti-war. I’ve never been able to take a stand. I could say it’s a “necessary evil” but I don’t believe in killing like that. But, then again…let’s just say I am sitting on the fence and I am, for lack of a better phrase, firmly stuck on the fence.
Take for example, So You Think You Can Dance. I was stuck watching it because some chick was dancing to “Waiting on the World to Change.” What I didn’t tell you is that all the contestants were required to dance to the same song, wearing the same white, peace signed outfit. I watched eight different people dance to the same song only because I wanted to hear that song different eight times. What can I say, I love my BubbleGum. By then I was hooked on the contest itself and all hope was lost in regards to changing the channel. But, back to the song. The dancers were instructed to dance as choreographed but they could add their own spin to spins. They were all supposed to end with their hands in the air, showing the peace sign. Some dancers ended with anger in their eyes, some had smiles of hope, others tears of sadness. Different opinions about the song translated into different opinions about war. The War. The executive producer was forced to issue a public apology at the beginning of the next episode. Since when does a song about peace immediately become synonymous with anti-war? Since when does dance become a political demonstration and art become a threat? See what I mean? Reading about the Middle East is going to be a tough gig for me.

“If we had the power to bring our neighbors home from war they would have never missed a Christmas. No more ribbons on the door. ~ John Mayer, Waiting on the World to Change.”  Has any soldier missed a holiday? Can someone tell me they haven’t? If we had the power to bring them home maybe they would miss Christmas for some other reason.

…climbing down from the soapbox.

A Map of the World

map of the worldHamilton, Jane. A Map of the World. New York: Anchor Books, 1995.

National bestseller. Oprah book. A movie. All that should tell you something. Normally, I don’t try to read reviews before I myself have read the very last page. This one was a little different. Praise for A Map of the World was on the inside cover and I couldn’t resist. One line really said it all for me, “the story of how a single mistake can forever change the lives of everyone involved.” If you read my blogs you know I am fascinated by the what could have been, fate and serendipity. The path less taken, the path not known to take at all. This is the story of a mistake, an err in judgment, and the time and effort it takes to get back to good.

Told in first person from both Alice & Howard, husband and wife. Alice begins and ends the tale with Howard interjecting in the middle. Details that overlap her story and his tie the couple and their voices together. It’s their marriage talking. Yet, their views on life are very different. There is a moment when Howard is driving by the library and he thinks of the librarian, a man with a hook for one hand. Howard remembers that his wife thinks of the librarian as Captain Hook, not only because of the hook, but because the librarian was supposedly “cranky and unhelpful” to her. Howard recalls learning from the librarian and how he “never even noticed his hand.” Walking down the road of life Alice and Howard see the scenery differently, despite being hand in hand.

Favorite lines:
“I used to think if you fell from grace it was more likely than not the result of one stupendous error, or else an unfortunate accident” (p 3).
“She was all nerve, so energized by rage she had a hard time sorting out what she most hated” (p 291).
“It is one thing to be in a car with someone who is quiet, and another to be with someone who is silent” (p 364).

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust and the chapter “Big Ten Country: The Literary Midwest (Wisconsin)” (p 25). I started reading A Map of the Worldbefore I double-checked what Pearl had to say about it. I had just finished the part about a major tragedy. I have to say it was a shock to read there was another one in store for me. I almost wished I hadn’t known that.

Divine Secrets of The Ya-Ya Sisterhood

Wells, Rebecca. The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. New York: Penguin, 1996.Divine Secrets

This is Rebecca Well’s second novel, a follow up to Little Alters Everywhere. Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood continues the story of Vivi Abbott Walker and her friends (known as the Ya-yas), this time through the eyes of her adult, engaged-to-be-married, daughter, Siddalee Walker. Siddalee is a flourishing theater director who falls victim to the ever-famous, word-twisting interview. A reporter from the New York Times gets Siddalee to open up her childhood box of memories and reveal dark secrets about her upbringing. Ultimately, her mother’s alcoholism and abuse are exposed and Siddalee must spend the rest of the book apologizing to her mother for the scandal. When Siddalee calls off her engagement the Ya-Yas brazenly step in. In an effort to make her daughter understand who she is, Vivi mails her daughter a scrapbook and we are taken into the wonderous, playful yet dark world of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood.
Ultimately, I identified with this story. It’s the classic yet complex struggle between mother and daughter. Secrets revealed, hearts broken, lives changed. In the end, happiness and love prevail. I know you’ve seen the movie.

BookLust Twist: Divine Secrets comes up a couple of times in Book Lust. First, on page 83 in the chapter “Family Trouble” then in the chapter called “Women’s Friendships” (p 248).

Amsterdam

AmsterdamMcEwan, Ian. Amsterdam. New York: Anchor Books, 1999.

Another book that starts with a funeral. Of course, I’m thinking of Charming Billy. But, the comparisons stop there. How to describe Amsterdam? It is a short (193 page) novel that takes place in London, England. Two men share a bond of friendship as well as a romantic past with the same woman. Vernon is an editor of a newspaper and Clive is a modern composer. While they are friends they are not above rivalies and each, through his friendship tests the bounds of morality.

I see this story as a movie. There is one particular scene where Vernon feels dead. He is about to hit himself upside the head in order to feel pain when his secretary interrupts him, “He had raised the ruler several inches above his right ear when there was a knock on his open door and Jean, his secretary, entered and he was obliged to convert the blow into pensive scratching” (p 34). Can’t you just see it?

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust. Ian McEwan has his own chapter called, “Ian McEwan: Too Good To Miss” (p 149).