Archive for the ‘Books’ Category
The Black Minutes by Martin Solares is a two-tiered crime novel held together by in-
teresting characters and captivating murders over a 20-year time span. The writing is
icing. Solares creates easy to envision situations in a fast-paced style. The only problems
occur in the transitions from reality to dreams and the number of personalities filling the
pages.
Thankfully, Solares includes a three-page Cast of Characters to help keep track of who’s
who. Most are corrupt law enforcement, politicians, clergy, and businessmen; but not
everyone is a bad guy. While there may not be any white knights, there are a few gray
ones. The story begins with the murder of a young journalist investigating a serial kill-
ing spree that took place 20 years ago in his town of Paracuan, a Mexican port and home
of a drug cartel. Ramon Cabrera is the honest police investigator who is removed from the
case shortly after he connects a few dots. Cabrera establishes a relationship between the
journalist’s death, the past murders and a scrupulous detective, Vincente Rangel, who
led the investigation two decades ago. This is where it gets fun.
Solares incorporates different narrators, while maintaining his role as storyteller. Certain
chapters are identified as “testimony” wherein the first person voice of one of the characters
tells his version before the writing reverts to third person. The majority of the book tracks
Rangel’s investigation, followed closely by Cabrera’s. Several surprises surface that make
the past more closely linked than one can imagine.
The Black Minutes
Four Bookmarks
Black Cat, 2010
436 pages
The smoke and flames rose into the sky beginning Saturday afternoon. As the
proverbial crow flies, the fire was probably five miles from my home, and many
friends live in areas of imminent danger. They were evacuated immediately. In
the early hours of Sunday morning the entire town of nearby Manitou Springs
was evacuated. Although residents there were allowed home less than 24 hours
later, it was unsettling for everyone. As neighborhoods around our home received
evacuation notifications, my husband and I discussed what we would take: not
surprisingly, photos and family mementos topped the list. When we got word we
were in a pre-evac area, it was time to really consider what to pack. This difficult
task was made even more daunting by the fact that by this point thousands of people
had been displaced and many had lost their homes.
We have shelves and shelves of books. Looking at them I knew I would not be able
to select just a few to carry away. Only one of our sons is home from college this
summer. He packed a box filled with what he called his “theatre and geek books.”
My husband packed his Bible. I looked at my nightstand stacked high; I searched
the shelves near my desk, in the living room, in the study. I even looked at the titles
my absent sons have in their rooms.
Finally, like a scene from Moonrise Kingdom, I packed the library books in a suit-
case. What books would you take?
I am not sure I would have chosen Corinthia Falls off the bookshelf on my own,
but I volunteered to judge a competition. Kim Hutson’s book is what I received in
the mail, along with a list of reading criteria. It was entered in the Fiction Category,
but that should’ve been amended to Christian Fiction. There’s nothing wrong with
that genre, I just think it warrants a heads up. Or maybe I should have paid more
attention to the photo of a church on the cover.
The book gets its name from the small town in Oklahoma where most of the story
takes place. The first two-thirds is narrated by 18-year-old Timber Oaks who has a
strong sense of faith, a group of best friends, loving parents, and an impressive golf
game. The town is full of the requisite eccentric characters, many of whom initially
don’t get along. An itinerant evangelist arrives to help the Corinthia Falls Church,
the townspeople, and Timber fully realize the presence of God in their lives.
The book’s final third begins 30 years after Timber’s narrative ends. Priscilla Luke,
a long-time journalist and, as it turns out, Oaks’ family friend takes over as narra-
tor. This change in voice is interesting. Pris brings the reader up to date on the
major changes many of the characters have experienced, and tells Timber’s story
from the outside looking in.
Some editing and grammar issues distract from what is otherwise a story strong on
faith with occasional lapses in believability.
Corinthia Falls
Three Bookmarks
Outskirts Press, 2011
404 pages
Sorry for the delay in posting, but the wildfire here in Colorado Springs was a major distraction this weekend. We still need some rain.
When reading Helen DeWitt’s Lightning Rods it’s important to keep in mind the various
definitions of satire: lampoon, irony, parody, among others. DeWitt’s novel offers several
examples of satire’s many faces: it’s far-fetched, addresses a significant topic, and throws in
occasional laughs. Unfortunately, this just isn’t enough.
DeWitt examines sexual harassment in the workplace through an idea known as lightning
rods. The genius behind the concept is Joe. Just Joe with no last name and not much of a
backstory. What’s known is that Joe is a down-on-his-luck salesman with a penchant for
sexual fantasies. Of course it makes perfect sense that he would blend his weak sales skills
with the latter to develop a service to improve workplace productivity while eliminating
sexual harassment. Joe’s idea: anonymous female employees (the lightning rods) available to
fulfill sexual needs. This may sound like prostitution, but Joe spends plenty of time trying to
convince people otherwise. Like their namesakes, the females provide resistance to potential
problems. One of the best explanations is from a lightning rod who later becomes a Supreme
Court Justice. She says, “… there’s nothing like being on the receiving end of a proactive sex-
ual harassment program …”
The story follows Joe’s climb from a hapless schmuck to a successful one. Among many ironies
in DeWitt’s tale is that most characters are identified by first name only. They engage in one
of the most personal ways people interact, but they are more like cardboard cutouts than living,
breathing humans.
Lightning Rods
Two-and-a-half Bookmarks
By Helen DeWitt
New Directions, 2011
273 pages
If you read Lionel Shriver’s We Need to Talk About Kevin be sure you have
someone with whom you can talk about it.
This disturbing, yet compelling, story unfolds through a series of letters written by
Eva to her absent husband, Franklin. The purpose of the letters is to try to under-
stand how their 15-year-old son, Kevin, could murder seven classmates, a teacher,
and a school cafeteria worker.
Through a clear almost detached, yet very personal, perspective Eva expresses the
difficulty she has in relinquishing her independence to become a mother. Following
Kevin’s birth, she continues to lack a natural maternal instinct. Still, Eva is not
without heartfelt emotion and empathy; she simply has difficulty showing these traits
to Kevin.
On the other hand, neither is Franklin completely blameless; although his side of the
story is not told. As seen through Eva’s eyes, Franklin maintains a vise-like grip on
the image of a happy, American family. His perception does not include discipline,
respect to others, or a recognition that there are two sides to every story.
Kevin is simply a bad kid, albeit an exceptionally bright one. The concept of uncon-
ditional love falters under Shriver’s pen. Parents are bound to examine their parent-
ing style and question whether it is the right approach. It is easy to be critical of
Eva and Franklin, but it’s hard to know if anyone else could have parented Kevin with
a different outcome.
We Need to Talk About Kevin
Three Bookmarks
HarperCollins, 2006
432 pages
(I wrote this review several years ago, but decided to post it here.)
I hope the next book Alexis M. Smith writes will be much, much longer
than her debut novel, Glaciers. At only 174 pages it is obviously terse,
yet remarkably rich in detail with characters I wanted to spend a lot
more time with.
The storyline follows a day in the life of Isabel, a Seattle librarian who re-
pairs damaged books and whose primary interactions are with those who
are also somehow wounded. That may sound either dry or familiar (The Hours
comes to mind since Isabel plans to attend a party later that day), but Smith
writes in a lyrical, understated manner that is immediately enticing.
Isabel’s story takes place in less than 24 hours, but it is not confined to that
time frame. Her dreams, her family, and her childhood in Alaska are all beau-
tifully crafted to create a complex, sensitive woman with a penchant for vin-
tage clothing and old photographs. Isabel recounts her first trip to a thrift
store with her father who explained they were hunting for treasures. Initially,
the young girl is uncertain, even fearful she will miss the prize, until her father
says, “If you love it, you will treasure it, does that make sense?” The four-year-
old Isabel takes this to heart, and, ultimately, subtly applies the explanation
to everything from dresses to relationships.
Without giving anything away, one of Smith’s most impressive writing techniques
is the adroit manner in which she makes Glaciers Isabel’s story in more ways
than one.
Glaciers
Four and a half Bookmarks
Tin House Books, 2012
174 pages
What begins campy and comic book-like soon assumes a more serious tone about
familial dysfunction in Karen Russell’s Swamplandia! This enigmatic coming-of-
age story is set in Florida’s Everglades, where the harsh environment is full of danger-
ous creatures and rich in bittersweet memories for the Bigtree family.
Thirteen-year-old Ava Bigtree is the narrator for most of the novel; when the setting
switches to the nearby coastal town of Loomis, Russell narrates. Swamplandia! is the
name of the Bigtree family’s alligator theme park. When Ava’s mother, the main attract-
ion as an alligator wrestler, dies, the family disintegrates. Ava’s 16-year-old sister is in
love with a ghost; Kiwi, the older brother, leaves to work at the competing theme park
in Loomis; and Chief, the children’s father, leaves Swamplandia to look, he says, for
funding. Through most of the novel, Ava is the most level-headed, so when she shows
her age, it’s a good thing for the reader, but not so much for Ava.
This is one whopper of a tale, but Russell creates complex characters facing difficult
issues in their lives, not the least of which is dealing with the mother’s death. The back-
drop of the theme park and alligators provides some levity on one hand and heavy-duty
allegory on the other. Russell’s beautifully-written descriptions and sentence structure
are captivating. There are some laugh-out-loud moments countered by creepy events.
Several times I considered closing the book to stop what was likely to happen, but
needed to keep reading just in case I was wrong.
Swamplandia!
Four Bookmarks
Alfred A. Knopf, 2011
316 pages
Although somewhat entertaining, The Writing Class by Jincy Willett is a light
mystery with writing advice. Willett should have heeded some of her own tips,
particularly when it comes to character development. Oh wait, she didn’t really
address that. Still, plenty of other writing elements addressed go unheeded.
The class, comprised of 13 students, is actually a nine-week workshop. It’s taught
by one-hit writer Amy Gallup repeatedly described as “a loner who hated to be
alone.” That’s not necessarily the kind of thing that needs emphasis. Willett could
show this more, rather than tell it so frequently. Amy’s tired and cynical attitude
doesn’t mesh with her sense of humor and appreciation of good writing when it
surfaces. She’s quick to categorize her students when a new workshop gets under
way. However, she soon realizes she’s made some judgment errors, particularly
when someone in the group begins to send anonymous threats, which ultimately
lead to murder. Nonetheless, the group grows close and despite, or because of,
the murders everyone becomes friends and suspects.
Part of the problem lies in the suspension of disbelief which simply doesn’t happen.
The first threats should have triggered someone, if not Amy, to contact authorities.
Although, there is some acknowledgement this should be done, it doesn’t occur until
too late. Perhaps the best parts of Willett’s novel appear in the different voices creat-
through her students’ writings. They are far better representations than the one-
dimensional descriptions of the characters. If this was intentional, Willett was
successful.
The Writing Class
Three Bookmarks
St. Martin’s Press, 2008
326 pages
As the mother of sons I was compelled to read The Mama’s Boy Myth:
Why Keeping Our Sons Close Makes Them Stronger by Kate Stone
Lombardi. My oldest, in his mid-20s, often boasts of being a “mama’s boy,”
however, my other two have yet to claim to the same title. Nonetheless, I
feel close to all three. Of course, they don’t tell me everything, but they share
quite a lot. More importantly, I no longer feel the way I did when they were
younger: that our relationship would stop flourishing as they got older. That
is not happening at all, and, according to Lombardi, I am not the only mother
enjoying this experience.
Lombardi combines interviews with mothers of sons, excerpts from studies,
personal experience, and historic trends that have led her to conclude there
is nothing wrong with strong bonds between moms and their boys. In fact,
she highlights a number of benefits for males. These include possessing more
expressive and thoughtful qualities. Yet until now, little has been written to
correct the bum rap directed toward moms if their sons were too sensitive or
socially inept; and having a male role model was considered the way to over-
come “problems” caused by a mom with tight apron strings.
Dads, as Lombardi notes, don’t face such scrutiny in their relationships with
daughters. All parents should be encouraged to maintain close ties with their
children. For moms it should happen without Oedipus’s looming shadow.
The Mama’s Boy Myth: Why Keeping Ours Sons Close Makes Them Stronger
Three Bookmarks
Penguin Group, 2012
324 pages (includes notes)
Depending on perspective, the good or bad thing about historical fiction is knowing
how something will end – at least generally. Alice Hoffman’s The Dovekeepers
may have Masada in ancient Israel as its setting, but her novel about four strong,
captivating women is all new. It’s no spoiler to acknowledge that, yes, nearly every-
one dies; nonetheless, Hoffman’s characters are so vibrant and remarkable that
they make their home in our minds and hearts.
Hoffman typically combines the supernatural with the ordinary, but this is the first
time she blends these with history and religion. In her hands, the concepts are not
as incongruous as might be expected. Along with what could be perceived as a little
magic, other attributes shared by the women include survival, desire, love and relig-
ious conviction; these qualities move the fast-paced story toward its inevitable con-
clusion.
Hoffman clearly did her research. Rich with descriptive language of the harsh land,
the brutality of men, and Judaic traditions, Hoffman details the lives of the women
before and after their arrival in Masada. The four, Yael, Revka, Aziza and Shirah,
fill the pages with joy and heartache. They are of various ages, backgrounds, and
experiences; all are intelligent, sensual, even daring characters. Although each wo-
man shares her narrative, the voices are not that distinctly different.
In some ways reminiscent of The Red Tent for its portrayal of women in a Biblical
context, The Dovekeepers is a gripping representation not just about the existence
of faith but of its necessity.
The Dovekeepers
Four-and-a-half Bookmarks
Scribner, 2011
501 pages
