Lisa Unger has once again written an engrossing, twisty-turning novel that grabs your brain and forces you to sit up and pay attention. Although the cover may look like it belongs on a Jodi Piccoult novel, it actually masks much more intriguing and multi-plot story that unwinds deliciously over the course of its 327 pages.
Fragile contains many characters, and several smaller plots, but the main focus of the book involves the disappearance of a troubled high school girl from her insulated town outside New York City. Did she really run away, as her Facebook page claims, or was she kidnapped? Local child psychiatrist Maggie and her husband, Detective Jones, become submerged in the events while simultaneously coping with their own ghosts that still haunt this town they both grew up in. While small town living may mean that everyone knows everyone else, reality is not always what it seems to be, and as the truth of the crime begins to come to light, so do the facts surrounding another event from the past that threatens to overcome them all. What you think is the main plot is actually a venue to uncover something else entirely.
Fragile has many positive aspects, not the least of which is the multi-layered character writing done by Unger. The story is told by multiple characters, who play various roles throughout. Typically I have a favorite character, or at the very least stifle a groan when a chapter is told from the perspective of a particular character in a multi-cast novel, but this time I didn't; each one was lifelike and important beyond his or her part in the mystery at hand. Even the characters in the story that you knew, just KNEW, had a part in the girl's disappearance, were dimensional and had a draw.
This brings up an important point; due to the multi-voice storytelling, the reader knows more about what is really going on than any one of the characters for most of the novel. However, this is not to say that I knew exactly what had occured in either the disappearance at hand *or* the mystery from the past, and this was delightful. I knew just enough to *think* I knew what happened, which kept me from feeling like I should probably just skim the rest (ahem, again with the Piccoult reference), but there were indeed surprises ahead, unvelied throughout the last third of the novel, that changed my perceptions and made me respect Unger more as a writer. I read a lot, as you have probably noticed, and it's not typical that I don't have just about everything figured out by the middle of the book. I love that I didn't here. More importantly, perhaps, is the fact that even though I thought I had figured everything out, I didn't care. I was enjoying the book, and the unfolding events, too much to stop reading. I read every word on every page.
If you read this book, alone or with others, consider the following book club questions:
1. How did your perception of Tommy Delano change throughout the novel? Were you surprised at his letter?
2. What do you think would have happened if Sarah hadn't gotten into the car that day? What would have the more immediate repercussions been for Sarah, and for Maggie? What long-term implications might have there been for all the characters?
3. Social media plays a significant role in the mystery surrounding Charlene's disappearance. Considering the pervasiveness of internet culture, what safeguards do you think are appropriate for a teenage online consumer?
4. Maggie and Jones experience significant conflict over their son, Rick. Whose side did you find yourself taking? Why?
Rating: four out of five stars. Engaging, character-driven novel that takes the reader on a trail-of-crumbs through the history and mystery of a small town.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Review: The Red Garden, by Alice Hoffman
I will start off by saying that this novel was not what I expected it to be. The book jacket does it no justice whatsoever; the picture makes it look like a story about an asian experience (like something Lisa See would write), and the description makes it sound like a typical generational novel that follows a family in a linear fashion over time. It is neither of those things.
The Red Garden is both a generational epic and a collection of short stories; each story takes place in the same small town of Blackwell, MA, and focuses on a different descendant of one of the few founding families of the town, spanning several hundred years to end at present day. However, again, because the book jacket doesn't explain terribly well (read: at all) that this is what is going to happen, and the stories don't lay out specifically at the outset how the characters portrayed are related to the founding family, I was fairly confused during the second story and had to go back later to re-read it once I realized what was going on.
Once I was acclimated to the Hoffman's format, I was hooked. The intitial tale, about a small band of colonial settlers swindled by a local man into leaving their safe town to 'go west', ending up barely on the other side of the Berkshires before winter snows and starvation fell upon them, was immediately gripping. The staunch wife of said swindler, Hallie Brady, overcomes the weakness of her fellow travellers and saves them all by becoming the provider for the group, hunting and gathering on her own until the spring. Her strange connection with a local bear family not only saves the town, but also becomes a thread throughout the remainder of the collection. The novel's dark humor, expressed by Hallie's naming every part of the town 'Dead Husband (Field, River, Wood)', has its start in this section as well, as does the explanation for the novel's title, although you don't realize it until later on.
This ability to keep the reader thinking throughout the book by leaving clues in the story of one generation that are never fully explained, but which require small leaps that result in several 'Ohhhh!' moments during the tales of future characters, is one of the Hoffman's talents that made me keep returning. After realizing that the indominable Hallie would be making no further appearances, I almost put the book after the second story, not wishing to become attached to characters who I would never learn the fate of, but perseverance led me to realize that I would indeed learn the fate of the each of the previous characters via smal kernels of information provided in subsequent tales, as well as the repercussions of past events on the future generations. This is like voyeurism at its best, really, knowing reasons and details about parts of others' lives that they themselves may not even fully understand. The stories definitely have a slightly magical feel to them, as if spirits from the past are following along for the ride, and events such as why the soil in the garden is red, and the details about little girl on the riverbank, are like a candy trail through the forest.
This would be a great selection for a book club, because of the various motifs and relationships involved throughout the book. Discussion questions could include:
1. What is the significance of bears in the story? What is their ultimate meaning to the families of Blackwell?
2. The story of Susan and the eels includes the most magical thinking in the collection, depending upon what you decide is the truth. What do you think really happened with Susan? What is the importance of the eels to Blackwell, and why is this story, which is so different from the others, included in the collection?
3. In these stories, things are not always what they seem. Who do you think was really in the river with Carla's brother Johnny: Tessa or her mother? Why? What do you think of Carla's reaction?
4. Hoffman includes a few famous names in the tale. Who are they, and what do you think of the parts they play? Do you think they added to the story?
5. Which ancestor is your favorite, and why did his / her story speak to you above the others?
Overall, I would highly recommend this novel for its elegant blending of reality and magic, and Hoffman's talent at portraying characters from various periods in a manner that is faithful to the social norms of their time. I found almost all the characters to be intriguing, and the writing overall inviting. I am actually planning on going back through the story to plot out who was related to who, and that would be one of the only recommendations I would have to the author; somewhere in an afterward, to include a family / story tree with names and chapter titles in parentheses that readers can refer to in times of confusion.
Rating: four out of five stars. Elegant storytelling that hides surprises and treats for readers throughout the novel's generations.
The Red Garden is both a generational epic and a collection of short stories; each story takes place in the same small town of Blackwell, MA, and focuses on a different descendant of one of the few founding families of the town, spanning several hundred years to end at present day. However, again, because the book jacket doesn't explain terribly well (read: at all) that this is what is going to happen, and the stories don't lay out specifically at the outset how the characters portrayed are related to the founding family, I was fairly confused during the second story and had to go back later to re-read it once I realized what was going on.
Once I was acclimated to the Hoffman's format, I was hooked. The intitial tale, about a small band of colonial settlers swindled by a local man into leaving their safe town to 'go west', ending up barely on the other side of the Berkshires before winter snows and starvation fell upon them, was immediately gripping. The staunch wife of said swindler, Hallie Brady, overcomes the weakness of her fellow travellers and saves them all by becoming the provider for the group, hunting and gathering on her own until the spring. Her strange connection with a local bear family not only saves the town, but also becomes a thread throughout the remainder of the collection. The novel's dark humor, expressed by Hallie's naming every part of the town 'Dead Husband (Field, River, Wood)', has its start in this section as well, as does the explanation for the novel's title, although you don't realize it until later on.
This ability to keep the reader thinking throughout the book by leaving clues in the story of one generation that are never fully explained, but which require small leaps that result in several 'Ohhhh!' moments during the tales of future characters, is one of the Hoffman's talents that made me keep returning. After realizing that the indominable Hallie would be making no further appearances, I almost put the book after the second story, not wishing to become attached to characters who I would never learn the fate of, but perseverance led me to realize that I would indeed learn the fate of the each of the previous characters via smal kernels of information provided in subsequent tales, as well as the repercussions of past events on the future generations. This is like voyeurism at its best, really, knowing reasons and details about parts of others' lives that they themselves may not even fully understand. The stories definitely have a slightly magical feel to them, as if spirits from the past are following along for the ride, and events such as why the soil in the garden is red, and the details about little girl on the riverbank, are like a candy trail through the forest.
This would be a great selection for a book club, because of the various motifs and relationships involved throughout the book. Discussion questions could include:
1. What is the significance of bears in the story? What is their ultimate meaning to the families of Blackwell?
2. The story of Susan and the eels includes the most magical thinking in the collection, depending upon what you decide is the truth. What do you think really happened with Susan? What is the importance of the eels to Blackwell, and why is this story, which is so different from the others, included in the collection?
3. In these stories, things are not always what they seem. Who do you think was really in the river with Carla's brother Johnny: Tessa or her mother? Why? What do you think of Carla's reaction?
4. Hoffman includes a few famous names in the tale. Who are they, and what do you think of the parts they play? Do you think they added to the story?
5. Which ancestor is your favorite, and why did his / her story speak to you above the others?
Overall, I would highly recommend this novel for its elegant blending of reality and magic, and Hoffman's talent at portraying characters from various periods in a manner that is faithful to the social norms of their time. I found almost all the characters to be intriguing, and the writing overall inviting. I am actually planning on going back through the story to plot out who was related to who, and that would be one of the only recommendations I would have to the author; somewhere in an afterward, to include a family / story tree with names and chapter titles in parentheses that readers can refer to in times of confusion.
Rating: four out of five stars. Elegant storytelling that hides surprises and treats for readers throughout the novel's generations.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Note on Comments
Hi Everyone - I just realized that I haven't been getting emails from comments that have been left on this blog! There aren't a lot of coments left here, and I usually see recent ones, but if you've left a comment and I haven't responded, I apologize!!!! I was signed up to get them, but for some reason they weren't coming through. I believe the problem has been resolved now.
Astarte
Astarte
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Review: The Penderwicks at Point Mouette, by Jeanne Birdsall
As you can probably tell, The Penderwicks at Point Mouette is a children's book, aimed largely at girls. It's the third book in a series, with the first two being The Penderwicks on Gardam Street and The Penderwicks: A Summer Tale of Four Sisters, Two Rabbits, and a Very Interesting Boy. I adore these books, and actually requested this latest installment for myself from the library; as my 12yo daughter loves them too, we read it on our Nooks at the same time (note: once you download a book from Overdrive, or whatever your local library uses for e-materials, you can upload it to multiple readers at the same time, so we didn't have to take turns, which I liked).
If you haven't read the previous two novels, you have missed out on a delightful series. The stories focus almost entirely on the children, four sisters named (from oldest to youngest) Rosalind, Skye, Jane and Batty (short for Elizabeth). Unlike in most fiction aimed at just about anyone these days, there is essentially no family conflict; these sisters adore each other, and operate as a functional team. As the OAP (Oldest Available Penderwick), Rosalind is largely in charge of the other sisters, due to the death of their mother some years earlier. Jane is a writer, Skye is engrossed in sports, and Batty, the baby, spends most of her time romping with the dog and cat. The children have adventures such as finding out who the little boy next door is, and end up inadvertently setting their father up to marry his mother, or going to a small vacation cottage and meeting a boy their age who is essentially held captive by a controlling mother and her new husband in the main house. This time, the three younger girls are the focus of the story, probably because Rosalind is getting older and the author is aiming at younger children; however, because the girls are so close, much of the plot focuses on Jane's anxiety over being OAP when the younger girls go on vacation with their aunt (Rosalind goes away with a friend instead), and on the entire group's experience of their first separation. The other story lines involve a first (very innocent) crush, and a new friendship developed with an oddly-familiar-looking man next door to their summer vacation home.
To understand why this all works, you have to realize that the voice Birdsall writes in is almost entirely unique in this day and age. To find its equivalent, you have to look back to books we might have read as children, such as the Bobbsey Twins series. The entire demeanor of the book is one of Literature, not just a typical book that appeals to kids via fart jokes and one-word responses. Additionally, Birdsall invests no faux angst, and instead trusts the readers to be intelligent enough to be interested in the characters and their story instead; she allows the characters and story to carry their own weight. It is entirely refreshing. The main focus is on the sisters' relationships, solving small mysteries and dealing with situations in a mature, thoughtful way that frankly, we don't see very often anymore. The reader experiences situations through each girl's eyes, as the girls rotate chapters and have their own small adventures that complement the main plot. There is always a positive, satisfying ending that, yes, is tied up with a bow, but one that feels natural, not like the author took a cheap way out and suddenly used a drawstring bag to stuff the remainder of the story into.
All in all, I cannot recommend this entire series highly enough. The characters are lovely, the stories are fun, and the resolutions are always satisfying and reasonable. If you have a daughter old enough to at least listen to chapter books while you read at night, you should be trotting out to get them, or at least reserve them at the library, pronto.
Rating: five stars. Another wonderful addition to the high-quality, family-friendly series.
If you haven't read the previous two novels, you have missed out on a delightful series. The stories focus almost entirely on the children, four sisters named (from oldest to youngest) Rosalind, Skye, Jane and Batty (short for Elizabeth). Unlike in most fiction aimed at just about anyone these days, there is essentially no family conflict; these sisters adore each other, and operate as a functional team. As the OAP (Oldest Available Penderwick), Rosalind is largely in charge of the other sisters, due to the death of their mother some years earlier. Jane is a writer, Skye is engrossed in sports, and Batty, the baby, spends most of her time romping with the dog and cat. The children have adventures such as finding out who the little boy next door is, and end up inadvertently setting their father up to marry his mother, or going to a small vacation cottage and meeting a boy their age who is essentially held captive by a controlling mother and her new husband in the main house. This time, the three younger girls are the focus of the story, probably because Rosalind is getting older and the author is aiming at younger children; however, because the girls are so close, much of the plot focuses on Jane's anxiety over being OAP when the younger girls go on vacation with their aunt (Rosalind goes away with a friend instead), and on the entire group's experience of their first separation. The other story lines involve a first (very innocent) crush, and a new friendship developed with an oddly-familiar-looking man next door to their summer vacation home.
To understand why this all works, you have to realize that the voice Birdsall writes in is almost entirely unique in this day and age. To find its equivalent, you have to look back to books we might have read as children, such as the Bobbsey Twins series. The entire demeanor of the book is one of Literature, not just a typical book that appeals to kids via fart jokes and one-word responses. Additionally, Birdsall invests no faux angst, and instead trusts the readers to be intelligent enough to be interested in the characters and their story instead; she allows the characters and story to carry their own weight. It is entirely refreshing. The main focus is on the sisters' relationships, solving small mysteries and dealing with situations in a mature, thoughtful way that frankly, we don't see very often anymore. The reader experiences situations through each girl's eyes, as the girls rotate chapters and have their own small adventures that complement the main plot. There is always a positive, satisfying ending that, yes, is tied up with a bow, but one that feels natural, not like the author took a cheap way out and suddenly used a drawstring bag to stuff the remainder of the story into.
All in all, I cannot recommend this entire series highly enough. The characters are lovely, the stories are fun, and the resolutions are always satisfying and reasonable. If you have a daughter old enough to at least listen to chapter books while you read at night, you should be trotting out to get them, or at least reserve them at the library, pronto.
Rating: five stars. Another wonderful addition to the high-quality, family-friendly series.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Review: The Girl Who Chased the Moon, by Sarah Addison Allen
In a continuation of my summer lightweight novels series, I borrowed The Girl Who Chased the Moon, by Sarah Addison Allen, from my public library e-books site. Easy to read, and mildly mystical, it took me about a day and a half to get through the roughly three hundred pages on my Nook.
The basic plot follows Emily, a high school senior who moves to live with her maternal grandfather, whom she has never met, after her mother's death. Emily's mother had left the small town under a cloud of hatred twenty years earlier, but while no one has forgotten what the woman did, neither will anyone tell Emily what it was. While Emily deals with the fallout of a past she doesn't understand, she also finds herself oddly pulled to a boy from a strangely secretive, anachronistic family that seems to be somehow at the center of the mystery.
On the flip side of Emily's story is that of Julia, the woman who has returned to town to work in the small restaurant her father left her. Julia has a painful past of her own in the town, and the fate of this mother who lost a daughter becomes intertwined with that of Emily, girl who lost her mother. Her plot line is almost as well-developed as Emily's; focusing on re-imagining her future and moving on from the past, Julia must come to terms with betrayal by those she loved most, and a loss so profound it influences her every move.
This all sounds pretty straightforward, but when you add in little tidbits like mysterious lights in the forest, morphing wallpaper, and a magical scent of sugar, things get a little strange, in a playful way. This is not a novel that purports to be Mystical Literature, nor does it take itself too seriously. If you've seen the Movie Simply Irresistable (and if you haven't, you should), it has the same feel: light, airy, and welcoming. There is no feeling of 'Twilight' angst, either, thankfully. Really, it was just the right amount of magic to play into what you wished had been real when you were young - enough to excite the imagination without being frightened.
The mysteries in the story unravel at a good speed, and don't leave the reader bored or confused. In the negative column, however, is the answer to the Big Mystery - what is the boy and his family hiding? It's a lot more mellow than you would think, and the climax reveal is a little bit of a letdown, however by the time you find out what It is, the draw of the story is the interpersonal relationships of the various characters, who are all very real. In addition, the final chapter, which is more of an afterward, is too convenient for my taste, and it did color my impression of the story. I don't think that stories always need to be wrapped up in a bow, especially those made for adults, but since the whole story borders on YA lit it's a little less of an affront. In fact, if it wasn't for the one pretty explicit sexual encounter in the story, I would probably recommend it to my 12yo, because the themes of redemption, family, and personal integrity are strongly supported and well-written; throughout the novel Emily must simultaneously face the sins of her mother while still loving the woman she knew, and stand up as her own person in the midst of small-town prejudice and dislike, while Julia must face the monster within. Forgiveness, of self and others, is a strong thread woven into the plot, as is the need to move on and grow from adversity.
Overall, this is a lovely story that kept me interested until the end, and made me inclined to look for additional novels by Allen. If you're looking for something easy to keep up with for summer trips, it would make an excellent choice.
Rating: four out of five stars: Sweetly magical dual story of forgiveness, redemption, and love.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Review: The Happiness Project, by Gretchen Rubin.
Are you happy? How could an ordinary, no-major-life-problems person increase happiness and become more present in their daily lives? I have to admit, these questions seemed to be self-centered and weary when I first noticed this book on the shelves. The only thing that really drew me in was the sub-title: 'Why I Spent A Year Trying to Sing in the Morning, Clean My Closets, Fight Right, Read Aristotle, and Generally Have More Fun'. Well, that, and the cover, which to my shallow self, looked at least a little interesting.
Imagine my surprise when The Happiness Project actually had an impact on my own daily life. Rubin, without specifically meaning to, has written a self-help book for the non-self-help crowd. I was not necessarily in the market for help, although I do admit to having been in a bit of a funk lately, so perhaps I was a little more open to suggestion than usual. Regardless, the genius behind the 'help' is that it's actually the documentation of Rubin's own journey to a more positive life, rather than someone's pompous instructions on how You could make your life like Theirs. She makes no suggestion to readers as to following in her footsteps, and in fact wrote this as a stand-alone project rather than as one that others might undertake on their own.
The book begins with Rubin, a former Supreme Court staffer turned writer, looking at her life and wondering about happiness; would making small changes to identified areas of her existence, both internal and external, improve the experience of both her and, by extension, those around her? To find out, Rubin first had to define happiness, which led to an extensive reading list of material from philosophers, politicians, and religous figures. From that, Rubin identified her own condensed thoughts on the subject, and made a list of areas in her life that she felt could stand improvement. The project built upon itself, with new goals being added at the beginning of each month, the assumption being that after 30 days, the previous goals had become habits that needed less individual focus. With the introduction of each new month's goals, Rubin gave background research information and reasoning as to why she had selected the goals for the month, and what philosophical basis they had. Each month gets its own chapter, and Rubin includes an extensive reference section at the end documenting her research and motivational texts.
Part of what makes this all so readable is Rubin's awareness that really, to 90% of the world, her life is already pretty magnifiant - good health, strong marriage, financially stable, etc. She also includes the doubts of others who approach her to discuss her work, and their (sometimes rude) arguments as to why her year's work is, essentially, worthless. However, her basic conclusion is that if we are to live, we should strive for improvement, for our own sake as well as that of those around us. Rubin sets goals that impact her family, friends, and community, but involve only small changes on her own part and no financial investment at all. Her goal of being true to herself resulted in her exploring her passion for children's literature and starting a small literature circle; it eventually expanded so much from people bringing friends that other offshoot groups were created. All of those people expanded their horizons, met new people, and got to participate in a monthly intellectually stimulating social experience because of her small decision to focus on what she was really interested in. The book is full of tiny gestures that make substantial returns.
In essence, Rubin's tactic is very appropriate for the current economy; figure out what you truly want, what honestly makes you and others in your life happy, and cut out all the rest of the garbage. Focus on what you can change, and do it. There are many people who, for one reason or another, feel that they have lost a lot of power over their own lives, and this project is a reminder that we all can refocus ourselves, and take charge of what is truly personal.
Rating: five stars. Intelligent, honest, engaging journal of taking back the self ad focusing on what's truly important
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