If We Could Reshelve Ourselves

School's starting up again, and I've got many new names and faces to learn. Since Korean names all have a similar pattern and there's a lot of repetition, this plays hell with my chances of retention. Every now and again I get lucky -- sometimes I'll have a girl student named An-na, which sounds like Anna or Se-ra, which sounds like Sarah. Last semester I had two students named A-Ra which is Veronica's given name. Occasionally, I'll remember a student's name for very wrong, very unprofessional reasons -- for example, if their names are something that is a funny combination of sounds in English like Young-ho or Bum-suk, or my all-time favorite, Oh Pak-Kyu. But of course, these are just a handful out of hundreds of students each semester.

Because of this ongoing struggle with names, I wish the students would sit according to the way my roster is made out. The student in the class who has been at the university the longest is listed first, followed by the second longest and so on until the most recently enrolled. Unfortunately, it doesn't work to seat classes that way, because if they are seated in order, they might not be seated next to their friend. Feeling isolated bothers my students keenly. It's always a challenge to get them to drop their reserve and speak in class, but if they feel alone, they'll clam up and act so lifeless that my ears hurt from their stony silence and from hearing my own flat, Midwest American accent over and over in the still room. It's ultimately more productive to let friends sit with friends or let all the different majors clump together.

Too bad students aren't books. If they were, I could shelve them any way I liked. Take my biography/memoir shelf at home, for example. Everyone is shelved in alphabetical order:

Simone De Beauvoir -- Johnny Cash -- Raymond Chandler -- Julia Child -- Anderson Cooper -- Roald Dahl -- Princess Diana -- Bob Dylan -- M.F.K. Fisher -- Benjamin Franklin -- Ghandi -- Audrey Hepburn -- Shirley Jackson -- Ken Jennings -- Joan of Arc -- Margery Kempe -- Florence King -- Harper Lee -- Abraham Lincoln -- Mary Tyler Moore -- Haruki Murakami -- Barack Obama -- Elvis Presley -- Nigel Slater -- Elizabeth Smart -- David Taylor -- James Thurber -- James Tiptree, Jr. -- Harry S Truman -- Dare Wright

If these were individuals grouped together instead of books, would they like who they were next to? Would they want to be next to someone else, or enjoy the prospect of mingling? I see it going like this:

Beauvoir and Cash are cordial to one another, but Beauvoir prefers being in a clump with other writers and Johnny Cash is more comfortable standing next to his old pals, Bob Dylan and Elvis Presley, but he and Raymond Chandler mutually appreciate how the other is able to convey darkness through their chosen art form.

Since Anderson Cooper is a journalist, he's all right wherever he is because he'll get a good interview out of it. He is pleased to be next to Roald Dahl, since he read Dahl's juvenile fiction when he was a kid. Princess Diana and Dahl are both from England, so they chat about the queen and soccer and fish and chips and Eastenders. James Thurber, Shirley Jackson and Roald Dahl want a meet-up so they can give each other fist bumps for kicking ass with the short story form.
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M.F.K. Fisher and Julia Child gravitate towards each other because of food and wave Nigel Slater over to join their clique. Fisher is having some trouble extricating herself from Benjamin Franklin because he still has an eye for the ladies and M.F.K. Fisher is a dish (pun intended). Eventually, Ben's intellectual curiosity gets the better of him, and he and Gandhi get into a long, involved discussion about shaking off the yoke of colonial rule. Audrey Hepburn joins in and Gandhi admires Hepburn's observations about her trips to various countries around the world on behalf of UNICEF, while Ben polishes the bifocals he invented so that he might ogle Audrey more clearly.

Shirley Jackson tries to head up a writer's group, but Ken Jennings, the ex-English major and perennial trivia geek is trying to impress her by naming off all of her works in order and all the different ways The Lottery has figured in popular culture. Joan of Arc and Margery Kempe are perfectly matched since Joan hears voices and Kempe sees visions. Florence King, the failed southern lady is happy to be next to Harper Lee, one of the greatest writers the American South ever produced. Harper Lee is thrilled to find herself next to Abraham Lincoln, who enjoys hearing about Atticus Finch, a man after his own heart.

Mary Tyler Moore pops over and says hello to Elvis Presley since they co-starred in a 1970 movie called Change Of Habit. Haruki Murakami and Barack Obama both seem very open to multiculturalism and both are avid readers, but Obama wants to spend a few moments with Harry Truman so they can talk shop. Before Nigel Slater runs off to join the foodies, Elvis asks Nigel if he has any tasty variations on the peanut butter and banana sandwich.

Elizabeth Smart feels a little adrift, being the only Canadian in the bunch, but she finds a kindred spirit in Simone De Beauvoir. Both of them were involved with men that were an infuriating mixture of constant and flighty. James Thurber is fascinated with zoo doctor David Taylor's animal stories. Thurber does one of his zany signature drawings of Taylor working on some exotic animal like a tiger or a python while getting a brainstorm for another story.

James Tiptree, Jr. and Shirley Jackson are drawn together because Jackson is intrigued by Tiptree's stories of alternate worlds, her dual identity and she's also gleefully delighted at how Tiptree was able to fool her readers for so many years. Both are enchanted with Dare Wright's fey good looks and her strangely evocative talent of telling a story using quaintly dressed dolls and photographs.

Harry Truman read and reread Benjamin Franklin's Autobiography, quoted from it often and urged other people to put it on their '10 Most Important Books' list, so the man from Missouri is trying to be polite, but make no mistake, he's seriously jockeying for a position next to the printer and patriot from Philadelphia.

If I could shelve myself in this group, I'd have Simone De Beauvoir and Johnny Cash on either side of me. That would suit me right down to the ground, but with a group like this, how could I refrain from mingling? What about your biography shelf -- strange bedfellows or kindred spirits?

August Reviews: The Fiction

My Tough & Cool Inner Bookworm's eyes are half-closed and she's wearing a lazy, self-satisfied grin. Every now and again she claws the air dreamily and lets out something between a purr and a playful growl. Did someone slip Tuffi some catnip, or is she still dazed by how we tripped the lit fantastic this month?

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1. The Lightning Thief - Rick Riordan. This juvenile fantasy fiction was a nice surprise. I really wasn't expecting to be so thoroughly entertained by the adventures of Percy Jackson who discovers that he's the son of a Greek god and he's in trouble because other gods and monsters are out to get him. Further complicating his life, Zeus is mad because he thinks Percy stole his lightning bolt. Riordan obviously had a lot of fun casting the gods and goddesses in their modern-day guises. In addition, he test-drove this book with some middle school students before publication so it's got that authentic, slightly grubby tweenish feel to it. Did I say I had fun? Thanks so much to BOOKLEAVES for selecting this one for our August meeting.
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2. The Best American Comics 2006 - Harvey Pekar, Guest Editor and Anne Elizabeth Moore, Series Editor. Many of my favorites -- Jaime Hernandez, Lynda Berry, Alison Bechdel, Rick Geary and Robert Crumb made appearances in this volume. Of the newbies, I enjoyed Lilli Carre's Adventures of Paul Bunyan & His Ox, Babe in which Paul and Babe are on a lunch break out there in the woods and Paul discusses Proust and broods about how his size encumbers his life -- he can't kiss a girl "without getting her all wet" and to get properly drunk costs more than his whole salary. Paul dreams of striding off with giant steps into a new life in the big city where he'll "be a regular guy." Babe patiently listens and occasionally gives Paul a reality check. My other favorite was Thirteen Cats Of My Childhood by Jesse Reklaw, which starts out being about these cats, but gradually, as Jesse gets older, becomes more about his strange and troubled father. Pekar and Moore put together a well-selected and organized compilation. At the back, there's a list of "100 Distinguished Comics" for further reading.
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3. The Scarlet Letter - Nathaniel Hawthorne. There's plenty of sin to go around in this 1850 novel about 17th century Puritans in Salem, Massachusetts. Hester Prynne has had a baby with no husband in sight -- he sent Hester on ahead from England and is missing and presumed dead. Jailed for her sin, she gives birth in prison and refuses to name the father of her child. After a public condemnation and a little more jail time, she's set free but must wear a scarlet A (for "Adultery") on the front of her dress.

A while back, I did a post about fictional characters whose ears I'd like to box. After a long interval, I have a new one and he has zoomed straight to the top of my list. Welcome, Arthur Dimmesdale...whack! What Hester saw in him, I can't imagine; he must have been hot beyond measure. If I had read this novel in high school like everyone else, I think I might have had sympathy for the poor guy, but now I have no patience and actually had bouts of sadistic glee when Roger Chillingworth and little Pearl would mess with his mind. Speaking of which, this is a great psychological novel. A little top-heavy with symbolism, but what would have felt deadly in high school now seems like pretty fun stuff. There's a cool, creepy aside in which Hawthorne lets readers know that the kids who torment Hester grow up to be part of the Salem community that held the infamous witch trials. I read this quickly and avidly and was completely engaged in a way I never expected to be by Hawthorne, of all people. While I'm in my dreamy Nat-Love state, I may give The Blithedale Romance another try.
I can't believe I just typed that.
Tuffi, get your mitts off the keyboard.

4. The Snows of Kilimanjaro And Other Stories - Ernest Hemingway. This is like Hemingway's The White Album; it's a collection of his short stories that he wrote over a period of 25-30 years. The title story is great and is bookended by another powerhouse story, The Short, Happy Life of Francis Macomber. Also included are The Killers, A Day's Wait and A Clean Well-Lighted Place. The other stories explore similar Hemingway themes, but don't seem to be as strong or memorable. Still, The Snows of Kilimanjaro is a solid introduction to Hemingway's work.

5. The Moon And Sixpence - W. Somerset Maugham. In this 1919 novel, a young writer finds himself constantly crossing paths with Charles Strickland, a stockbroker who suddenly decides at the age of 40 to leave his job and his family and move to Paris to become a painter. After a few years in Paris, Strickland moves on to Tahiti. Loosely based on the life of Paul Gauguin. I liked Maugham's technique of observing Strickland from the outside rather than going into his mind or having him do a big reveal -- it keeps the reader as frustrated as his family, friends and acquaintances would have been. Strangely enough, although Strickland is portrayed as a boor and a bastard, I don't find myself wanting to slap him very much at all.

6. Howards End - E.M. Forster. The story of 3 middle class families: the wealthy Wilcoxes, the comfortable Schlegel sisters and the struggling clerk Leonard Bast and his wife. "Only connect" is Forster's epigraph and Margaret's motto. Sure enough, in this novel, everyone and everything is connected. Margaret Schlegel can see this with great clarity, but her husband, Henry Wilcox stubbornly persists in his disconnect, especially where the lower classes are concerned. Not only is this a novel about people, it's a critical appraisal of English society as a whole in the years immediately preceding WWI. It took me a while to get into the book, but once I was there, well, I was connected. Not only that, but I achieved another level of connection with Alison Bechdel in the 2006 comics anthology listed above. That brief selection from Dykes To Watch Out For is entitled Only Disconnect.

7. Native Son - Richard Wright. A gritty and explosive novel about the life and crimes of Bigger Thomas. I both admired and was astounded by Wright's searing frankness about the choking fear and hatred Bigger has for white people. An excellent example of a novel from the school of naturalistic literature. Native Son reminded me so much of Theodore Dreiser's An American Tragedy.

August Reviews: The Nonfiction

I'm a long way from finishing the two books I'm working on now, so it looks like an even dozen for August. I wish I could read 12 consistently. Actually, I wish I could read 20. Since I've saved all my reviews for the end of the month, I decided to split them into 2 posts -- Nonfiction and fiction. As usual, fiction triumphed, but not by much. The final score is 7-5.

1. American Splendor: Another Dollar - Harvey Pekar. Harvey and his wife, Joyce Brabner feel like old friends by now; I've been a fan of American Splendor for about 6 years. When I saw the latest AS at What The Book? I pounced on it. The storytelling seems more low-key than usual, but just as enjoyable. I was pleased to see Anne Elizabeth Moore, (the editor of a comics anthology that I rocked this month) in a cameo when Harvey spends a few days in Chicago. The usual band of excellent artists are all present and accounted for, including Rick Geary, who I'm going to talk about quite a bit while reviewing this month's reads. Minor gripe: I hate the way John Lucas draws Harvey and Joyce. Harvey looks like the missing link and Joyce's head is shaped like a huge radish. One character is conspicuously missing from Another Dollar: Where is Danielle, Harvey and Joyce's foster daughter?

2. Shaking The Nickel Bush - Ralph Moody. This is one of the later books in the Little Britches series. Ralph, who is around 20 in this volume, falls ill and is diagnosed with diabetes. His doctor advises him to go west, soak up lots of sunshine and follow a careful diet. Ralph goes west, but has trouble getting a job since there are many WWI veterans also looking for work. The bulk of the book consists of him getting by on his wits and talent, worrying about money and going through some elaborate machinations to find proper food and trying to keep his mother from finding out that things have gone pear-shaped. He's also taken up with Lonnie, a good-natured ne'er-do-well who is devoted to a "flivver" named Shiftless that he and Ralph co-own, and who is much more hindrance than help as Ralph struggles to make their way. I like Moody's distinctive voice. Reading him was like spending a pleasant Sunday afternoon drinking lemon iced tea on the porch with a favorite great-uncle who always tells the most entertaining stories.

3. Clay - Suzanne Staubach. Book 2/4 for the Eco Reading Challenge. Many interesting facts about the history of clay and the evolution of how we've come to use it, but sometimes it feels as if there's too much information to wade through. Although Staubach, (who is also a potter) is enthusiastic about her subject, her tone can be a little dry. I felt as if I was back in school listening to an overlong lecture.

4. The Fatal Bullet - Rick Geary. Part of Geary's magnificent Treasury of Victorian Murders. In this graphic novel, he does a parallel examination of the life and death of President James A. Garfield and his assassin, Charles Guiteau. As always, the storyline is crisp and full of dramatic tension, and his scrupulous research shows up in the detailed artwork, particularly the scene of the crime. I can't imagine anyone not being impressed by The Fatal Bullet or Geary's other work in this series.

5. Book Crush - Nancy Pearl. The woman I adore (and who is also an action figure) compiled a list of reading recommendations for three groups: "Youngest" readers, middle grade readers 8-12, and teen readers 13-18. Seeing some of my old favorite books mentioned (like the Betsy, Tacy and Tib series) was great fun and it was just as much fun to add (and add and add) several new juvenile reads to my wishlist. While I was reading and jotting, I wondered if Peter from Collecting Children's Books has looked at Nancy Pearl's picks.
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Coming up next: Fiction reviews!

The Loot At The Top Of The Stairs

I'm making good progress on my Support Your Local Library challenge, but there's always that question in the back of my mind: Should I be visiting my library so often and checking out so many books and at such a rapid clip? There are several possible and reasonable answers to this question:

1. Try and stop me!
2. Excuse me? I am Bybee and this is my Bybee-ary!
3. I climbed 118 steps to get here. Screw fitness! I deserve a book or two. Or five.
4. No, I probably shouldn't. I am behind on some of my challenges and I have a massive chunky monkey of a book borrowed from Talya that I must finish soon.
5. I'm broke till payday. Library-ing satisfies my shopping jones.
6. I went without a proper library for more than 4 years. If I checked out a book every day, it still couldn't make up for all those years of deprivation.
7. It's raining like hell. I need shelter, so why not the place with all the books?
8. This library has a raggedy charm that I can't resist. This collection, with its mixture of new and old donated foreign books is like a crazy quilt. A treasure hunt with no end in sight. I could rhapsodize for hours, but you want to see the loot. I don't blame you.

The Just And The Unjust - James Gould Cozzens. This 1942 novel seems to be about a murder trial. One of the previous readers of this copy also read All The King's Men because there are margin notations here and there that mention Willie Stark. Cozzens was both literary and popular back in the 1940s and 1950s, but something caused him to fall out of favor. Did some influential critic have it in for him? I had always heard that his prose was a bit user-unfriendly, but this novel looks quite readable. Over at the Neglected Books blog critics and writers are recommending a later novel, Guard Of Honor, which is the 1949 Pulitzer fiction winner.

The Dead Of The House - Hannah Green. Speaking of Neglected Books, if this 1996 title hadn't popped up over and over at that site, I wouldn't have given it a second look. It was published by a small indie press and the tasteful cover illustration and colors all seem to reek of self-conscious literary-ness. Another major irritant is that instead of a brief summary of the book on the back cover, that space is filled with several rave blurbs from highly respected authors and publications. It all feels a bit airless -- like there's no space for the reader and author and the book to all get acquainted. I kind of hate the title, too. I'll give it a shot, but I'm going in mindful of Nancy Pearl's 50-page rule.

A Moveable Feast - Ernest Hemingway. Late in his life, Hemingway looked back 40 years to the years (1921-1926) he lived as an expatriate in Paris. Since I'm an expat as well, I'm pretty sure I'll enjoy this book. I'm especially looking forward to reading the chapter about Sylvia Beach and her bookstore Shakespeare & Company.

Native Son - Richard Wright. Back in university or maybe even high school, I read some excerpts from this 1940 novel and from Wright's 1945 autobiography Black Boy and I've never forgotten the searing intensity of his prose. His intelligence and rage seem to burn through the pages. He never lost his sense of horror about the mistreatment of blacks in the United States, and it was this feeling that ultimately drove him into self-exile. Shortly after WWII, he established permanent residence in France, living there until his death at 52 in 1960. I anticipate that reading Native Son will be a powerful literary experience.

Have I mentioned that my library has a self-checkout machine? I like how it talks to you in both Korean and English and that cool whirring sound it makes while processing books, but it feels strange to bypass the circulation clerk altogether. It makes me feel like I'm repeatedly getting away with book capers.

My Brother's Books: R.M. Ballantyne

When I went to visit my brother and his family last month, I couldn't help taking a look at their bookcase. Wow, I saw some pretty books there. I know, all books are pretty. But these were stunning; I was salivating. There was a colorful row of about 10 multicolored cloth-bound books with gold lettering on the spines.

My brother saw me peeping. "That's the series I'm reading now. Christmas present from my family."

"What are they?"

"Adventure books!" my nephew said. "You can read them; they're not inappropriate." I had to smile; I knew where that was coming from. I felt like telling him: "Kid, reading inappropriate stuff is the beauty part of being an adult," but his mom is of the helicopter persuasion and there were more important things at hand so I kept my lip buttoned and focused on my introduction to R. M. Ballantyne. How had I missed hearing about this guy? How did he get past my Tough & Cool Inner Bookworm?

Robert Michael Ballantyne (1825-1894)was a 19th century Scottish juvenile author who specialized in adventure. Ballantyne seems to have done his research first-hand, taking journeys to places anywhere "from the Arctic to the South Pacific". His tales stressed "Christian character in the face of adversity." In his day, he was a bestselling author, often churning out 3 books a year. I didn't do an exact count, but he seems to have written more than 50 novels. His first hit, The Coral Island (1857) was read and admired by boys everywhere, especially little Bobby Lou Stevenson, who grew up to write Treasure Island. In a poem that prefaces the story, Stevenson pays tribute to "Ballantyne The Brave".

According to Wikipedia, Ballantyne made a mistake in his first book about the thickness of coconut shells, so after that, he was determined to do scrupulous research on the topics and settings in his novels. For example, he had worked as a young man in "the wilds of Canada", which provided material for several books, he worked with London firemen for Fighting The Flames and tin miners in Cornwall for Deep Down. A fan site, started by a 16-year old Ballantyne enthusiast has a cool world map that has stars on it representing various locales around the globe where 20+ of his novels took place. When you click on a star, a brief summary of each book is displayed.

All of his books apparently feature young men who are tweens or early teens who are facing some kind of life challenge and following the example of role models around them, they learn to keep cool and courageous, never waver in showing gallantry and let God be their compass. The last is one of the reasons Ballantyne fell out of fashion in recent years, and also why he's come roaring back more than a century after his death.

From that first moment at my brother's bookcase, I was intrigued by Ballantyne, but slightly put off by what I assume is heavy religious content. I was picturing Elsie Dinsmore except Elmer Dinsmore. Then, when my brother and I were corresponding about Ballantyne, he sent me a little snippet from the web describing Ballantyne's work that included this caution: Ballantyne describes incidents in a graphic manner. Parents may want to preview. Finding out that this guy in all his piety still had the power to alarm mommies made me determined to be courageous and gallant about the religious didacticism and read him myself. Although I can't get my hands on those gorgeous books, Ballantyne's works are available at Project Gutenberg.

Tuffi is practically in rapture because we'll be adding another 19th-century author to plug up the abysmal gaps in our literary knowledge, I'm pleased because I've discovered (well, my brother has -- a damned unlikely source, too! Who'd have thunk it?) an author that's rather obscure (or is Ballantyne obscure? Is it possible that I'm just late to the party?), and both Tuffi and I are pretty jiggy knowing that we've gained awareness of an important link in juvenile fiction. It's a lot to chew on. Thanks, Bro.

Building Canadian

My approach to the new Canadian Book Challenge is a little different this time -- I'm building a stack of Canadian reads and when I get a stack of 13 books by or about our neighbo(u)rs to the north, I'll plunge in and start reading. Sad to say, I'm almost two months late getting started; I'll have to read like hel...Halifax.

I slid my uber-sweaty feet into my snow boots just long enough to give myself a good kick for not attending to my northern bookpile while I was in the United States. There's no excuse for neglecting the Canadians; they were everywhere. My mom and I bonded by watching The Bachelorette on Mondays and I also tuned in to Jeopardy! every chance I got. One episode I saw even had a male contestant who was Canadian. (Forgot what province, sorry.)

Alex Trebek so wanted his fellow countryman to win. I was kind of pulling for the guy myself. When he went into the red after being too bold with his Daily Double wager, I groaned an epithet I picked up from my Canadian co-workers and Alex was overcome with patriotism, entreating him to "Stay positive! There are still plenty of clues on the board!" Unfortunately, it was not to be. The show ended with an American winning and poor Alex looked like he had a lump in his throat the size of a hockey puck.

Ever since returning to Korea, I feel you again, Canada. I have 7 books in the challenge pile so far. I've been scanning my library's shelves for Canadian reading, but no joy. When I get paid, I'll most likely go oout, fortify myself with some poutine and seize the remaining 6 so I can get finally get started on this challenge before the snow flies.

The Pile (so far):
1. Oryx and Crake - Margaret Atwood
2. A Mixture Of Frailties - Robertson Davies
3. The Diviners - Margaret Laurence
4. Among The Shadows - L.M. Montgomery
5. Divisadero - Michael Ondaatje
6. The Tenderness Of Wolves - Steph Penney
7. Gone To An Aunt's: Remembering Canada's Homes for Unwed Mothers - Anne Petrie

I'm a slacker but I've got spirit, eh?

Shelf-Medicating

It's been an irritating week: The toilet broke down; the entire Korean roach kingdom has decided that I've got swell digs; my computer at work has a virus; I've got approximately $40 to live on till payday in 2 weeks; it's been raining and nastily humid so I'm drenched all the time one way or another and the laundry always feels clammy and damp even after three days of drying; I'm being stalked by a 39-year-old woman who says she's a student from nearby Sun Moon University (founded by the same guy who founded the Moonies) and my dreams of an easy, early menopause are not only eluding me, they're openly sneering.

All of it is nothing that amounts to a hill of beans in this crazy world, and luckily, I understand. Everything's temporary -- the toilet and the computer will be fixed, payday will come, the roaches will decamp when the students move back in and with a little patience, the weather and I will see big changes.

The stalker doesn't seem like she's going to go gentle into that good night (or at least, back to Sun Moon University) -- she found me and pounced when I went into the library for a cocktail of air-conditioning and shelf-medication on Monday -- but I've since located a side entrance where I can sneak right past her and directly into the stacks. Which is what I did today. Once I was there and breathing in the book dust, the palliative effect kicked right in. I took four books and feel so much better:

1. The Moon and Sixpence - W. Somerset Maugham. Another try for this one; I didn't get it read when I checked it out last spring.

2. The Snows of Kilimanjaro and Other Stories - Ernest Hemingway. Maybe it'll cool me off to read something with "Snows" in the title.

3. Howards End - E.M. Forster. I haven't read anything by Forster for more than 20 years now, and I liked the look of this Longman Cultural Edition.

4. Some Champions: Sketches & Fiction - Ring Lardner. I'm interested in Lardner because he's from that group of humorists that included Robert Benchley and Dorothy Parker. I glanced at the foreword by his son, Ring Lardner, Jr. Not-so-fun-fact: Lardner died when he was 48. I'll be 48 in a few months. (Aaaargh. I did this last summer, except with Edith Piaf.)

No, I really didn't need more reading material but yes, I would have been a snot-slinging, tear-streaked mess by nightfall if I hadn't visited my library this afternoon.

Miscount

Oooops. That was 27 books I hauled back from the States. Not 26.

The book I forgot to mention (Why? How?) is The Way West by A.B. Guthrie, who also wrote a prequel, The Big Sky, as well as the screenplay for the 1953 classic movie Shane.
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The Way West is about settlers in a wagon train going from Missouri to Oregon. It's the 1950 Pulitzer fiction winner, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to enjoy it tremendously. The good vibes started back in that magnificent Barnes & Noble in St. Louis where I unexpectedly stumbled onto so many bookish treasures. [Insert dreamy reverie here]

I thought this novel had gone missing, then I found it in one of the many pockets on my suitcase. My sigh of relief turned to a sigh of annoyance as I realized that I'd hurriedly jammed the book into the pocket with some smaller items and accidentally creased the front cover. There's a sepia-toned photograph of a wagon train on the cover so the crease barely shows, but I can feel it when I'm holding the book. So irritating.

I've only paged through a little bit, but words and phrases keep attaching themselves to my eye. This one probably won't be on the TBR shelf long. From just a cursory look at the prose style, I wonder if A.B. Guthrie (1901-1991) was one of Larry McMurtry's influences.

More July Reading

A Single Shard - Linda Sue Park. This 2002 winner of the Newbery Award was my favorite read for the month of July. The story of Tree-Ear the orphan who goes to work for Min the master potter and helps to enhance his reputation is as exquisite as the celadon pottery Min creates during the story. Park evokes the feeling of 12th-century Korea so well that it's practically a character in the book. I loved the depiction of Tree-Ear's relationships with Crane-man, the old man who befriends him as a small child, and Ajima, Min's wife. If you haven't read it yet, you're in for a treat. This is my new favorite work of children's literature, and it's an added bonus that I was fortunate enough to read this novel with the Korean countryside right outside my window.
Fun fact: Linda Sue Park was on Jeopardy! back in 2006. Apparently she didn't do very well, but I wish I could have been watching and cheering her on.

Winter At Valley Forge - Matt Doeden, Ron Frenz. A perfect read for blossoming American history buffs. Ron Frenz, the illustrator of this graphic novel, is apparently very well-known and respected for his illustrations of superheroes Superman and Spiderman. In Winter At Valley Forge George Washington has the look of a superhero as well, and considering what he accomplished in those few months in Pennsylvania, it definitely fits.

Public Enemies - Bryan Burrough. I discussed this diligently researched look at the early days of the FBI here.

Barack Obama: United States President - Roberta Edwards, Ken Call. Originally published as Barack Obama: An American Story last year, this juvenile biography was recently rewritten and now tells Obama's story up to his inauguration.

The 19th Wife - David Ebershoff. There are two stories going on here: One is a murder mystery in which a polygamist in Utah is supposedly killed by his 19th wife and their son, who was excommunicated from this splintered-off sect of the Mormon church, comes back and is determined to find answers. The other story is an "autobiography" of Ann Eliza Young, Brigham Young's 19th wife, who is divorcing the Mormon leader and going around the country on tour to tell her story and open people's eyes of the "evils" of polygamy. Ebershoff's pacing is taut, and while I wanted to find out if BeckyLyn was guilty of murder, I couldn't help being more interested in Ann Eliza's story, which covered a number of years. Ebershoff does a great job of showing how the stories interconnect at certain points and he doesn't overdo it to the point of implausibility. Many thanks to Talya for choosing this book. Now I want to read Under The Banner Of Heaven.

Not a high reading count for July, but there was a lot of variety and what I read was engrossing. Whew, I hope I never get that far behind again with my reviews.

July Reading: The Egg and I

Probably the author's best-known work, this comic memoir tells the story of Betty MacDonald's brief first marriage (1927-1931) and how she and her husband tried their hands at chicken farming in the Chimacum Valley in Washington state.

This way of life wasn't MacDonald's first choice for the ideal life and although she's extremely witty about her hardships, her tone gets a little acid at times. One can't really blame her; if what she says in The Egg and I is true, Bob slapped that wedding ring on her left hand one minute and was eagerly pouring chicken feed into it the next.

MacDonald also creates unforgettable comic sketches of her neighbors, particularly the Kettles. Ma and Pa Kettle and their brood of 15 children went on to achieve iconic status in a series of popular B movies and were the inspiration for The Beverly Hillbillies.

Readers are warned in the foreword, written by both of MacDonald's daughters, about her negative and disparaging attitude towards Native Americans, but I wasn't prepared for the humor to be utterly cast aside as MacDonald luxuriously unleashed a torrent of scathing commentary about them and what she perceived to be their squalid lifestyle. Much of this invective is concentrated in one chapter, but other mean-spirited asides are peppered throughout the book.

This negativity tainted what was otherwise an enjoyable reading experience. Because I really wanted to love this book, I tried hard to put myself into a "1945 reading audience" mode, but found it difficult to shake off my knowledge about how the United States treated the Native Americans and subsequent problems they have faced.

When MacDonald capped off her tirade by comparing the Native Americans she saw around her to Hiawatha (an actual historical figure, but highly romanticized as a "noble savage"), I had to face it that she was a product of the time (1908-1958) in which she lived. What really puzzles me though is that she had painstakingly and successfully established perfect comedic pitch in the previous chapters, then she undercut it with that abrupt and jarring transition. It didn't hurt the success of her book, obviously, but it seems like a strange authorial choice. I wonder if her editor commented on it.

I'm disappointed that I didn't love The Egg and I as much as I thought I would, but I still very much want to read Betty MacDonald's other humorous autobiographical tales The Plague and I, Anybody Can Do Anything and Onions In The Stew.

June's Reading and Reviews

Because of vacation and procrastination, I'm behind on my reviews, but hope to catch up by mid-week.

1. Olive Kitteridge - Elizabeth Strout. Blame it on Strout's great writing; this novel made me uneasy. The title character reminds me so much of some relatives that are rather horrifying in their obtuseness about how to treat family on a day-to-day basis, but in equal amounts possess a genius for doing the right thing at the right time with friends, acquaintances and near-strangers. Besides Olive, there are some beautifully realized 3-dimensional characters in this book. A great choice for the 2009 Pulitzer Fiction prize.

2. Girlfriend In A Coma - Douglas Coupland. After having sex for the first time with her boyfriend, Karen mysteriously falls into a coma in 1979 and wakes up with no ill effects on her brain 17 years later to find that she's the mother of a teenager and the world has really changed. I liked this one better than All Families Are Psychotic and JPod, but there's something -- a deliberate flatness, perhaps -- about Coupland's tone that never completely engages me. He always seems like he either doesn't really care or he's showing off. I wonder if maybe he's working in the wrong form. He'd kick ass as a novella or short-story writer.

3. The Cunning Man - Robertson Davies. I was glad to see some of the same characters and a recurring storyline from Murther & Walking Spirits. Coupland might be better off doing short stories, but his fellow Canadian Robertson Davies was born to spin sagas. He is devilishly entertaining and both relaxed and confident about his considerable storytelling gifts. Can an author have stage presence?

4. Three Men In A Boat (To Say Nothing Of The Dog) - Jerome K. Jerome. This book was published in 1889, the year Robert Benchley was born. I wish I could find out for sure if he read it. I'm almost positive that he did because Jerome's humor resembles his own efforts. (I also think that Mark Twain might have influenced Jerome.) Jerome and his two bachelor friends and Jerome's dog, Montmorency take a boating/camping trip up the Thames. Jerome plays up their combined incompetence at roughing it with hilarious results. The writing is breezy and playful and comes off extremely fresh to 21st century readers. If you shy away from Victorian-era writing because of the ornate and often seemingly cumbersome use of language, you'll find none of that in Three Men In A Boat.

5. The Manticore - Robertson Davies. This is the second book in The Deptford Trilogy. David Staunton, the son of the late "Boy" Staunton is angry and upset about his father's bizarre death, which occurred at the end of Fifth Business. Was is murder or suicide? What about that pink stone found in his mouth? What does Eisengrim know about all of this? David travels to Switzerland and undergoes Jungian analysis to make sense of not only the death, but his own life. David's recollections are masterfully assembled and presented by Davies, but David's self-searching gets a little wearisome at times as does his analyst's lugubrious explanations about dreams and symbols.

6. World Of Wonders - Robertson Davies. The final book in The Deptford Trilogy. Davies saved the best for last and readers finally learn why young Paul Dempster disappeared so many years ago and how he became the master illusionist Magnus Eisengrim. Superb pacing, incredible connections, and an almost absurd richness of variety in this cast of characters. Bravo to the man who probably needed a shave, but if he were here, I'd wade through that whiskery visage 20 times a day -- no problem!

7. Eat, Pray, Love - Elizabeth Gilbert. The perfect book to read just before vacation, or while on vacation. I enjoyed Gilbert's travels in Italy, India and Indonesia tremendously. I've put Italy and Bali on my must-see list. Read Sue F.'s review. She and I totally agree about this book and she says what we're thinking so very well.

8. Shortcomings - Adrian Tomine. When I saw this graphic novel at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport, I had to buy it for my son. Turned out he's already read it and he says that Optic Nerve by Tomine is even better. (I'm glad I can lose the guilt I had for reading Shortcomings before I gave it to him.) Ben Tanaka resembles a Japanese-American Woody Allen, casting a sardonic eye on the people and culture around him, but awash in his own insecurities. He has a girlfriend who is also Japanese-American who (rightly) suspects him of being attracted to Caucasian women. When she goes off to New York to study, he has a couple of wryly comic misadventures. Ben's best buddy is a Korean-American lesbian named Alice Kim who doesn't hesitate to call him on his shit, uses him as a faux boyfriend to (partially) mollify her parents and advises him about his potential conquests all while working on her Ph.D and pursuing her own love affairs. When Alice isn't part of the storyline (which isn't often, fortunately) the energy level seems to drop a little. I'm eager to read more of Tomine's work because I love his clean and uncluttered style of illustration.

So that's what I read during June. On to July.

What WAS That Book?

I shook the memory tree today and nothing fell out but confetti-sized scraps of literature. I'm trying (and failing) to remember the title of a book I read back in the fall of 1972 or possibly early 1973; it was right around my 11th birthday. What ails me? It's only been 36 or 37 years. -- practically overnight, right?

Rather than grumble all day about my faithless BookMemory, I've decided to give you all the information I remember and ask for help in identifying this young adult novel, published sometime in the late 1960s or early 1970s.

The reason I can pinpoint the time I read this book is because I was going through a phase in which I was obsessed with books about Native Americans or Indians, as we said back then. Someone (Mom? Dad? Aunt?) bought this book for me. The main character was a young Indian male of about 14. He was about to go through some rite of passage (hunting on his own?) to mark his transition from child to young brave. This main character had an animal name like Something Eagle or Wolf or Bear. Or perhaps it was a nature name like Something Leaf or Cloud. (Sorry, that's not very helpful, is it?) He had a BFF who was about his age and his name was something more descriptive.

Main Character got along well with his mother and father. Because of his age, he was getting hairy-faced, and his mother was always running for her clam shell tweezers. He noted that his friends didn't seem to share his hirsuteness. (Foreshadowing.) His dad was always available for a father-son talk, and to show his respect and affection, he would look into Main Character's eyes and stroke his arms from shoulder to elbow and back again.

Something went wrong during the rite of passage stuff. Main Character messed up somehow, I think inadvertently. But ignorance didn't cut any ice with the tribal council. Main Character was sentenced to die by sitting in a circle in the middle of camp and being starved to death. If he tried to leave the circle, he would be taken out with a spear or a bow and arrow. His father and mother were heartbroken, but nothing could be done to reverse his sentence.

After a few days in the circle, Main Character was pretty bad off. He managed to surreptitiously dig some grubs out of the dirt. Then he noticed that it was going to rain and knew that he'd get a drink of water. He hallucinated that he was drinking so much rainwater that he was drowning, but didn't realize that members of the tribe were holding a buffalo hide over him so that he couldn't get any water.

Main Character survived beyond the maximum number of days that anyone had ever lived in the circle (nine or ten?) and the tribal council decided to spare him. Soon after that, some white men attacked the camp and in the chaos and confusion, Main Character found out that he wasn't an Indian, he was white. He was taken back to the white settlement.

Some time went by. As a new section of the book began, 1-3? years had passed and Main Character was still in the settlement and not liking it a bit. He wasn't used to his white name (something Biblical, like Matthew or John or Daniel) and since his Indian mom wasn't plucking his face anymore, he was quite beardly. He thought white people stunk -- as in, they didn't wash themselves enough. They cursed, smoked and spat constantly.

And that's all I can remember! I think Main Character returns to the tribe and strokes his Indian father from shoulder to elbow, but I'm not sure. I am certain that this book isn't Little Big Man or A Light In The Forest, but as you can see, that's all I know for sure.