Stacked-Up Book Thoughts: 3 Hits, 1 Miss
Hello
Monday and back to real life for those of us in the USA who are coming
off an extra-long weekend. I really planned to read, read, read, but
ended up with a bad cold. I was in that frustrating state of being too
sick to read but not sick enough to sleep. Short stories and audiobooks
came to my rescue.
Besides listening to books, cooking,
and resting, I spent a whole day trying to get the book stacks out
of the living room. It may not bother us much in everyday life, but I
like a cleaner space for holiday entertaining.
I ended
up with several bags of books for charity and a new supply of books
slated for my neighborhood book bin. Best of all, I rediscovered some
books I really want to read.
This coming week is going to be all about gift-giving and holiday reading, so look for lists on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday.
What I Read Last Week
Skating on the Vertical by Jan English Leary
(Fomite, Nov. 1). The stories in this collection focus mostly on women
who are at turning points in their life: a change in circumstance, a
move to a new country, a death. The stories had a big emotional impact,
even when the protagonist (as in “Skin Art,” about a former cutter) and I
shared little. The stories aren’t easy, but they each embraced me
fully. I especially liked the story "Mother's Helper," about a teenage
babysitter helping out after the death of a client's infant daughter.
The title story was about a young boy struggling with self-identity when
his family life is upended. I didn’t read this collection straight
through, instead I read only one or two pieces a day, giving myself time
to absorb the words and think about each main character. (review copy
provided by the publicist)
Body Music by Julie Maroh
(Arsenal Pulp Press, Nov. 14). Love comes in many forms and has many
stages. The graphic short stories in this collection look at all kinds
of relationships: missed love, broken love, love on fire, love on a
break, love to last. The characters represent a range of sexual and
gender identities across the heterosexual and LGBTQ spectrum, and their
experiences and relationships are utterly relatable for everyone.
Maroh's use of a muted gray–pink palette lets the expressions and
emotions of her characters take center stage. Read in order, the
collection takes us on a journey from first meetings to "Togetherness
with a Captial T." This is a must-read book. The stories are all set in
modern-day Montreal and were originally written in French. (review copy
provided by the publicist)
Hum If You Don’t Know the Words by Bianca Marais
(Putnam, July 11). I really wanted to love this book set in
Johannesburg in the aftermath of the 1976 Soweto Uprising. The themes of
acceptance and equality are important, but much in this book just
didn’t sit right with me. The story is told from two points of view:
9-year-old white Robin, whose parents were killed in the riots, and
middle-aged Beauty, a traditional Xhosa who travels to the city to
search for her daughter who went missing during the uprising. I found
Robin’s observations to be too precocious, and although I
understood that her story was told in retrospect, the girl’s voice still
didn’t ring true. In addition, it seemed that each character was
created to represent a specific issue in the fight for equality (LGBTQ,
Jewish, black angel, single woman, white angel); the novel would have
been stronger if it had stuck primarily with Apartheid. I listened to
the unabridged audiobook (Penguin Audio; 14 hr, 25 min), which was read by Katharine McEwan and Bahni Turpin.
Each narrator read with good expression, but each performance had
issues (for example, McEwan’s pronunciation of common Yiddish and Hebrew
words). My full audiobook review will be available via AudioFile
magazine.
Fasting and Feasting by Adam Federman
(Chelsea Green, Sept. 8): I loved this well-researched biography of
food writer Patience Gray. If you don’t recognize Gray’s name, you may
have heard of one of her two most well known cookbooks: Plats du Jour or Honey from a Weed.
Barring that, you know her through her influence on the slow food
movement and the farm to table movement. She led an unconventional life
at a time when it was difficult for women to break the bonds of social
expectations, especially in England. From the time she graduated college
in the late 1930s until her death early in this century, she wrote,
created, loved, and lived in the way that suited her best. Even if you
have little interest in food writers, you will be fascinated by Gray’s
fierce independent streak and her insistence on sticking to her
principles; for example, she and her partner, the sculptor Norman
Mommens, moved to a remote area of southern Italy in the 1960s and
lived without electricity or running water and grew the bulk of their
own food well into their old age. Her Honey from a Weed is one of
the best cookbooks ever written and was one of the first to combine
memoir with food writing. Gray was not without her critics, however
(including Elizabeth David), and after finishing this biography you too
may not agree with all she did. Still, her Honey from a Weed will always have a permanent place in my house. I listened to the unabridged audiobook (13 hr, 42 min) wonderfully read by Naomi Frederick. My full review will be available at AudioFile, but I have nothing but good to say.
