Archive for the ‘Books’ Category
This week my younger brother reaches a milestone birthday. Late last year he published
a book. Both of these events are significant, but it’s the latter that makes me exceptionally
proud and very jealous. He wrote a book! And it’s published! Although I have the copy he
gave me, when I saw the book in a bookstore, I was thrilled beyond words – so I took a
photo.
Once I decided to start my blog I knew I did not want to review meals made by friends or
myself, and I thought I should not review books written by friends or family members. I
didn’t really think the issue would arise regarding books by people I know; but it has, and
I feel the same. I don’t want to review my brother’s book because of my background as a
journalist and my, perhaps misplaced, desire for objectivity. I can say with all sincerity he
has written an attractive, informative book about architect Wallace Neff whose fascinating
building process involved the use of balloons and concrete. I’d never heard of this before.
I can say the book is well-researched and well-written. But I can’t, I won’t, rate it because
to say I love it could be misconstrued as sisterly-love-induced bias. Conversely, if I say I
despise it that could be chalked up to good old fashioned sibling rivalry. I don’t hate it, and
I do love my brother.
Happy Birthday, Jeffrey! Keep writing. You make me envious – and proud!
No Nails, No Lumber: The Bubble Houses of Wallace Neff
By Jeffrey Head
Princeton Architectural Press, 2011
176 pages
I’m a careful driver, but some days I forget having passed a certain roadside
marker, or I have no recollection of having turned left at the light. Based on
Charles Duhigg’s The Power of Habit, it has less to do with a faulty memory
and is more about habit – the consistent recurrence of a deliberate choice.
Duhigg looks at habit from three perspectives: personal, corporate, and socie-
tal. The first two are the most fascinating and well-developed. With thorough
research and a conversational style, Duhigg relates scientific studies about
individuals and the patterns their brains establish to create habits. The author
considers individuals who completely alter their lifestyles by choice, as well
as those whose lives are changed by trauma or illness. He identifies three ne-
cessary elements: cues, routines, and rewards needed to establish habits.
The most interesting, albeit disturbing, aspects are found in the corporate view.
Duhigg reinforces what we already know: our spending habits are not secret.
This loss of privacy is not a new concern, but how we lose it is disconcerting.
Duhigg examines everything from how employees are trained to respond, to how
data is manipulated. The book’s weak link comes as Duhigg combines habitual
actions that evolve into addiction with those resulting from a physical medical
condition when examining societal aspects.
Although the focus of the book is to consider “why we do what we do in life and
business,” Duhigg does offer some suggestions for breaking the triad of habit,
which might be worth a try.
The Power of Habit
Three-and-a-half bookmarks
Random House, 2012
291 pages, plus notes and index
Julian Barnes’s The Sense of An Ending succintly examines the lackluster
life of Tony Webster, an uninspiring British gentleman deficient in confidence
and family background. Tony narrates the story of his very ordinary life from his
school days to his retirement; but don’t worry, it’s not as tedious as it sounds.
Whole elements, from marriage to parenting to divorce, are simply allotted a
passing mention. Although, intrigue is found, as contradictory as this may seem,
in the mundane when Tony’s conventional past rear-ends his present day exist-
ence forcing him to scrutinize incidents more closely.
Tony’s story relies on his memory, which is like everyone’s: a bit faulty. The
novel’s retrospective focus is on Veronica, Tony’s first real girlfriend, and Adrian,
his school chum. Both play a large part in Tony’s younger life, although Barnes’s
tone is particularly casual toward them. It’s as if these relationships are no more
significant than passersby on the street. Herein is one of Tony’s major flaws, as
identified by Veronica: nothing excites him. This inability to be moved, or even
demonstrate it, is part of Veronica’s palpable frustration with him. Not that she
is free from fault either. He admits he sees only the obvious, which is interesting
given that he is oblivious to so much. Nonetheless, a mystery ensues with Tony
trying to finally understand the connection with Veronica, her family, and Adrian
to vague recollections of long-past incidents and snippets of conversations.
This terse novel suggests a lot about how and what we choose to remember.
“The Sense of An Ending”
Four Bookmarks
Alfred A. Knopf, 2011
163 pages
I imagine it’s entirely possible to enjoy Death Comes to Pemberley even if, heaven for-
bid, you’ve never read Pride and Prejudice; but I especially appreciate P.D. James’s latest
mystery because I do know about the Bennet and Darcy families. The novel begins six years
after Jane Austen’s Elizabeth and Darcy are married.
A few new minor characters are introduced, but James, for the most part, extends the lives
of those created by Austen in a completely believable manner: the Darcys have two young
boys; Jane and Bingley are regular visitors to Pemberley, the Darcy estate; and Wickham,
the troublemaker in the original work has a similar role, with his wife Lydia not far behind
in her ability to exasperate.
The story begins on the eve of the annual ball overseen by Elizabeth as she continues a
tradition started by Darcy’s mother. The preparations are interrupted when an uninvited,
hysterical Lydia appears believing Wickham has been shot nearby. The characters’ react-
ion to this news, subsequent discoveries, and a trial in London’s Old Bailey are sheer en-
tertainment. In James’s hands, the story is plausible. The characters react just as one
would expect of proper, early 19th century British gentry. Family obligations and public
perceptions dictate their behavior.
The numerous and recent spinoffs, including combining zombies with Pride and Prejudice,
even if only meant to introduce or reacquaint readers to Jane Austin, have never appealed
to me. However, James has created something completely original from classic literature
without diminishing appreciation for Austen’s writing.
“Death Comes to Pemberley”
Four Bookmarks
Alfred A. Knopf, 2011
291 Pages
I’m not a fan of blood and gore thrillers in film, but put the stuff in a book
and I’m hooked. Jo Nesbo’s latest in the genre begins with terror and rare-
ly allows the reader time to breathe a sigh of relief. The Leopard starts
roughly where The Snowman left off, with Harry Hole now living in Hong
Kong where gambling and opium dictate his life – but not for long since
the Norwegian police need help solving another murder spree back on his
home tundra.
Hole doesn’t take long to determine the murders are related. Just as he
did in the previous novel, Nesbo takes readers on a hold-onto-your hats,
whiplash-inducing ride from one possibility to another, then back again,
and again. Additionally, he throws in several subplots just to keep things
really moving. The lure that actually brings Hole back to Norway is not
the challenge of the chase, it’s his near-death, elderly father. As Hole
unpacks the emotional baggage this creates, he establishes the connect-
ion of the murders, pines for his ex-wife and stepson, is attracted to a
female investigator, and is entangled in a turf war between the Oslo crime
unit and state police. This may sound like standard mystery ingredients, but
they’re not. And, it may make Hole seem like a superhero, but no way.
The beauty of Nesbo’s writing is the attention to detail, the depth of his
characters, and the thrill he creates as they battle to thwart or uphold
justice in very human ways.
The Leopard
Four Bookmarks
Adolph A. Knopf, 2012
517 pages
The word submission has multiple meanings, and all find their way
into Amy Waldman’s The Submission. On its surface, the reference
is to the design proposal for a 9/11 Memorial; subsequent insinuat-
ions include compliance, obedience and capitulation – among others
– as associated with religion, politics, marriage, relationships, em-
ployment: in other words, life.
Waldman’s finely woven novel begins with a committee charged
with selecting a memorial design. As the jury argues the merits of
one proposal over another, the most vocal advocate for one in parti-
cular is Claire, a widow representing the families who lost loved ones
in the World Trade Center. The initial conflict, however, is not what
creates the intrigue that results in turning the pages at an exception-
ally rapid rate; it’s the discovery that the selected memorial designer
is Mohamed Khan, a Muslim American.
The ripple effect evolves into a racial tsunami with politicians, report-
ers, other families directly affected by 9/11, and extremist organiza-
tions. Waldman raises questions that have no easy answers. Just as
the characters ask themselves how to best deal with this difficult
situation, the issues confront the reader as well. Emotions, values,
and preconceptions taint major and minor players alike.
The passage of ten years has not diminished the image of the twin
towers in flames, or other indelible impressions from that day.
Waldman’s portrait of the lingering aftermath demonstrates that
cultural and personal prejudices remain. Although the novel focuses
on New York City residents, it will resonate with American citizens
no matter where they live.
The Submission
Four-and-a-Half Bookmarks
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2011
299 pages
I’m a writing tutor at a community college. It’s at once rewarding, challenging,
and, sometimes, frustrating. In a break from rhetorical analyses and summaries,
a student, with the aid of an ASL interpreter, asked for reading help. Initially
I recommended a reading tutor, but soon realized she was more interested in
books than the process.
“I don’t know how I should feel at the end of the book,” she explained.
Her face revealed she was being neither ironic nor sarcastic; she was earnest.
I was silent. What should you feel at the end: joy, relief, disappointment?
“It’s pretty subjective,” I finally answered. “So much depends on the book and
where you are in your life. Some books I don’t want to end; the good ones I think
about long after setting it down for the last time. Others make want me to read
something better where I can know the characters, revel in the language, be awed
by the images, or just enjoy the story. Sometimes after finishing an exceptional
book, I don’t even want to read anything new for a while.”
Her rapid hand movements interrupted me, “But have you read any famous books?”
The inquiry seemed sincere. “I read a lot,” I said, “including books that could be
considered famous.”
For a moment she was still before she scrunched her face, moving her lips and
her hands at the same time. “Like Harry Potter?”
“Sure, like Harry Potter,” I said. “I read those to my kids, at the end we couldn’t
wait for the next one.”
Was that it? Did she really just want to know how she should feel at the end of
Harry Potter?
We all shrugged our shoulders.
It left me wanting to read a good book, one I can’t put down. How should you feel
when you finish a book?
Labeled as a “novel about food and friendship,” The Recipe Club by
Andrea Israel and Nancy Garfinkel chronicles a long-time friendship
through emails, letters and recipes. The latter are the real stars. From
appetizers such as, “Good Karma Veggie Samosas,” to desserts includ-
ing, “Wash-Away the Blues Berry Cobbler,” each recipe is named to
coincide with the events in the characters’ lives.
Roughly ninety percent of the book is written as correspondence. I
suspect each author assumed the role of one of the two main charact-
ers, friends Val and Lily, who weather every imaginable squall as
young girls/teenagers. The distinct voices reflect their contrary per-
sonalities, which add weight to the opposites-attract-theory of re-
lationships.
With two narrators, it’s easy to provide both sides to every story. It
is also not difficult to see how misinterpretations occur. The novel
begins with an email exchange between the two women as they try
to bridge a 28-year rift in their friendship. It’s no spoiler to say the
attempts prove fruitless. This is followed by the main section of the
book: letters written between 1964 and 1973, and nearly all are
accompanied by a recipe for their recipe club. Everything leads to-
ward their falling out.
The result of the book’s structure is a “Forest Gump” approach to
showing the times as they were a changin’ for Val and Lily. The for-
mat was an uncomplicated way to introduce others who impacted
their lives. Friendship and food are important connections; the
authors show sometimes they aren’t always stress-free.
The Recipe Club
Three Bookmarks (thanks to the recipes)
HarperCollins, 2009
337 pages
The sense of smell is rich in clichés: “Wake up and smell the coffee;”
“stop and smell the roses;” “relatives and fish smell after three days.”
In her book, Season to Taste, Molly Birnbaum writes of her life
without the ability to smell, so everything associated with scent
renders those sayings not just tired, but impossible.
Months before Birnbaum was to enter the Culinary Institute of Ameri-
ca she was struck by a car and suffered multiple injuries, including
losing her sense of smell which is known as anosmia. As she comes to
grip with the repercussions of this loss, she relinquishes her dream to
become a chef and latches onto the quest of learning about all things
olfactory.
Birnbaum’s writing is forthright, conversational yet occasionally bord-
erline academic. She experiences grief, anger and panic over the now-
missing sense she once took for granted. Aromas, odors, scents, what-
ever the name given, are, of course, everywhere. They evoke memories,
they provide contexts, they affect taste. With this in mind, Birnbaum
interviews numerous experts in the field of olfaction. She meets others
with anosmia. She studies at a perfume school in France, and visits flavor
design labs. Through these experiences, she relearns to identify smells,
falls in love, and reminds readers that this often under-rated of the
five senses really does enhance life in many, many ways.
The scientific information is interesting, but the best parts of Birnbaum’s
story are the personal elements she shares. That’s why it’s exciting when
she begins to cook again.
Season to Taste
Three Bookmarks
Ecco/HarperCollins, 2011
304 pages
In Great House, Nicole Krauss considers not just how an object is acquir-
ed, but how it is passed on to others. She shows that to bestow and to re-
ceive is not always a welcome, or even happy, occasion.
The novel has multiple characters, but it is really about just one thing: a
desk. Nonetheless, it is transformed from simply being household furniture
to something representing the different traits and lives of its owners. It is
imbued not only with personal histories, but also past world events. In
each of its homes, however, the desk physically overshadows everything
else, so the question that surfaces early on is: why is this particular piece
so important?
I found a lot of similarities between Kraus’s work and Accordion Dreams
by Annie Proulx. Both follow one specific item (in the latter, it’s the title
instrument) and both are haunting. The main difference is that Kraus
shows a connection among the five owners so the result is an amazingly
serendipitous puzzle. Here, Kraus, the author of A History of Love, has
written a fairy tale of sorts. In keeping true to that genre, Great House is
mournful and low on humor.
One problem lies with voice because everyone sounds the same. The pri-
mary distinction among the many narrators is in the descriptions of their
lives, rather than one personality being different from another. It’s the
situation that brings the desk into play and moves the story forward. Ulti-
mately, it’s something inanimate that drives the characters’ experiences.
Great House
Three Bookmarks
W.W. Norton & Co., 2011
289 pages
The Blue Page Special 