I Can't Help Myself: The Book Group Chronicles

Yeah, yeah. I know what I said. Words like "no more book group". Words like "free to read what I like into eternity". 

Mmmm, words. So delicious. I'm eating them now.

Because: Guess what? I found another book group and I'm going to give it a whirl.

This time, it could work, it could really, really work. (Why do I suddenly feel like Elizabeth Taylor embarking on another marriage?)

Here's how the book group is set up: First, someone (I don't know who! The Powers That Be? The Book Gods? Nancy Pearl?) chooses an author or a genre. Then, the gentle reader/scruffy bookworm goes in search of a book that fits the parameters. Finally, a month later, GR/SB shows up to book group, and each individual presents the book they chose.

Example: This month is "Edith Wharton (Again)". (Presumably, someone in this group has a hell of a girl crush on Edith Wharton, if it's "again".  Can't wait to find out who.) But anyway! Edith Wharton! I'm a fan. Which book should I choose? Should I just go with something I've already read or strike out and read something fresh, something new to me? I can't go wrong; Wharton is always satisfactory. A little depressing, yes, but nobody does it better, to quote Carly Simon.

As you can see, I'm already in love with this book group format. No more turning pages with one hand and holding my nose with the other. Even better: Since the group meets around lunchtime, we can bring our lunches! In my previous book group, NO FOOD OR DRINK ALLOWED. I always thought it was a shame; I'm not one of those wispy, ethereal bookworms. Sometimes in books, characters eat, and when they eat, I get damned hungry. So yeah: Lunch!

This all takes place July 19. Stay tuned.

*

In other news, the bookgroupless me read 7 books in June:

 1. It Ended Badly: 13 of the Worst Breakups in History -Jennifer Wright- Nonfiction. If you're suffering from a bad breakup, or you know someone who has just had one, or if you've ever had one, you need to read this book. Jennifer Wright, covering ground from Nero to Norman Mailer will put it all in perspective for you. Your rotten ex-partner couldn't possibly be worse than Henry VIII (killing two wives) or Norman Mailer (attempted murder, laughed off). There is also a great rebound story: Effie Gray's husband, John Ruskin, was horrified by her naked and completely normal form and refused to have sex with her. She rebounded years later with a painter friend of Ruskin's and the happy couple went on to have several children. Edith Wharton's in here, too. After an unhappy and mostly unintimate marriage, she finally found a journalist who made her toes curl. Unfortunately, he was a jerk. Speaking of jerks, Lord Byron was of that variety, but his lover, Lady Caroline Lamb, stalked him unmercifully and even sent a bloody tuft of pubic hair in one of her many, many, many letters. And there was poor Oscar Wilde, going to jail because of his affair with Lord Alfred Douglas, only to have Alfred abandon him, then write self-serving crap about everything. Read it, and you'll either say, yeah, I don't have it so bad, or you'll have someone historical to compare your scummy ex-lover to, and your friends will be impressed.

2. Come and Get It - Kiley Reid - Novel. Audiobook. Agatha, a well-known author of nonfiction books signs on for a year as an author-in-residence at the University of Arkansas. Millie is a senior and a Resident Advisor at one of the dorms. Agatha starts out interviewing students about how they feel about weddings for her new book, but suddenly her focus shifts to how these same young women talk about money. After accidentally overhearing a conversation, Agatha compromises Millie's position as an RA  and her own as writer-in-residence by paying Millie to let her sit in Millie's room and eavesdrop with a tape recorder running. This novel is long on character, seemingly short on plot, but rich in awkward situations. I liked Come and Get It well enough to seek out Reid's debut novel Such A Fun Age. Nicole Lewis narrates both audiobooks and her gift for voices and accents is superb.

3. Rx -Rachel Lindsay- Graphic Memoir. Rachel was diagnosed as bipolar as a young adult, and she must stay on medication to stabilize her condition. That means that her jobs must include health insurance. She gets a good job in advertising, but finds herself developing ads for an antidepressant drug. As she becomes both the target audience and the targeter, she starts to destabilize and soon requires hospitalization. As soon as she's "better", she's expected to hop right back into this twisted cycle again, and that's when she takes a step back and scrutinizes the situation. Read this, it's good.

.IV. The Road to Oz - Kathleen Krull - Biography, picture book. L. Frank Baum was an imaginative, daydreaming child who retained those same qualities as an adult. He failed at business repeatedly, but never ran out of ideas for his next creative endeavor. Author Kathleen Krull follows Baum through his checkered careers, showing the various inspirations for what finally catapulted him into literary legend. She did a great job of bringing Baum's quirky personality to life on the page, but she would also insert these parenthetical asides that seemed to be the equivalent of eye-rolling, and that was so jarring and annoying.

V. When Christ and His Saints Slept - Sharon Kay Penman - Novel. Book 1 of 5 in Penman's Plantagenant saga. In this volume, Stephen and Maude battle for England's throne. Stephen seems to be a weak king, but the English aren't about to accept a woman ruler. Historical fiction that feels so fresh and alive. I'm working on the second book in the series now, which follows the fortunes of Maude's son Henry II and his queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine. 

6. Lost Boy -Jane Yolen- Biography, picture book. This biography of J.M. Barrie, author of Peter Pan was exquisite. Jane Yolen related anecdotes about Barrie's life and tied in quotes from his work.

7. Who Gets the Drumstick? -Helen Beardsley - Memoir. This memoir has an alternate title, Yours, Mine, and Ours. Two movies under that name were based on Beardsley's experience of suddenly becoming a widow with eight children and almost as suddenly, meeting and falling in love with a widower with ten children, marrying him, then having two more children. It's a charming little book with a quirky story sincerely told, but the first part gave me weird vibes. Beardsley's first husband, a Navy pilot was killed when the plane he was flying crashed. At the time, she was six months pregnant with their eighth child. After the child is born, a well-meaning nurse and her own sister seem hell-bent on pushing Helen to forget her former life and make a new one with the children, and her sister pushes her into moving from Washington to California, then immediately into dating. One of these dates leads to the father of ten, Frank Beardsley, also a Navy man. He and Helen get married fairly quickly. Here's the timeline: The first husband dies in July of 1960. Frank and Helen get married in September of 1961. There are light and humorous anecdotes throughout the book and no one could deny the strong human-interest appeal, but it feels as if there is more conceal than reveal. Everything's a little too good to be true. In spite of my reservations, I did enjoy this book.

And That Was April, Twenty Twenty Four

Only three books read in April:

1. Crazy Rich Asians - Kevin Kwan. Novel. Audiobook. So much satire and so much fun. Alamak!

2. Who is Taylor Swift? -Kirsten Anderson. Nonfiction. OK...so this book goes from Taylor's birth in 1989 and alllll the way through 2023 and mentions almost all of her hit songs and her boyfriends. Somehow, Travis Kelce doesn't show up at all. Not even a shadowy drawing of a football player wearing a red jersey with 87 on the back. Interesting!

3. Knife -Salman Rushdie. Memoir. Rushdie writes about the 2022 knife attack in which he was stabbed 15 times and lost an eye. The book follows his recovery and reactions to the attack, including a long, imaginary dialogue with his 24-year-old assailant, who seems to have gotten the half-baked idea from watching a few YouTube videos. A year after the assault, Rushdie defiantly returns to the venue and does the reading he had prepared when calamity struck. This gives the book a nice shape, but I'm sure he is still getting over this horrific event. I admire his toughness and resolve.

 

My completed reading seems scant, but behind the scenes, I've been working on two books:

The Sunne in Splendour - Sharon Kay Penman. 1982 historical fiction about The Wars ofu the Roses, and particularly about Richard III. It's very long and just as compelling. I wonder if George R.R. Martin read it before he started the Game of Thrones series. I'm often reminded of GoT as I'm reading. After finishing The Sunne in Splendour, I plan to tackle Penman's five-book series about Eleanor of Aquitaine, Henry II and their sons.

Emma - Jane Austen. Novel. I read this back in college, but I didn't really "get" Austen until many years later. I'm familiar with the "mystery" in the novel, so it's fun to search out the clues Jane Austen sprinkles in. Emma is my favorite of all her books. I still have Mansfield Park left to read, but don't know if I'm feeling that brave yet.

March Madness

Yes, it's true. I could not come up with a more clever title. There were no basketballs, polished gym floors, hoops, or three-point shots involved in the making of this post. 

Six books for the third month in a row. A respectable number.

 So much for my thinking that I could go a whole year reading nothing but nonfiction. It's just not so. I need novels. Novels need me?

 1. Lilac Girls - Martha Hall Kelly. Historical novel. Audiobook. I was almost halfway through this novel before I realized that several of these characters were actual people. Up to that point, I was quite engaged in the book, but that revelation had me sitting straight up for the rest. Caroline Ferriday is a rich New York socialite who devotes endless days to helping French refugees at the dawn of WWII. During the war, she raises funds for care packages for French orphanages. After the war, she spearheads a campaign to help women who were in German concentration camps get surgery to repair injuries inflicted on them by Nazi doctors at the camp who were bent on ghoulish experimentation. Kasia is a young Polish political prisoner. Herta is one of the Nazi doctors. Eventually, their stories intertwine. I'm really mad at myself for sidestepping this book for at least three years. It was so well done. The audiobook is incredible. Three different actors portray these women, and the one who narrated Kasia's part had me teary-eyed more than once. I admired Caroline, and despised Herta with the heat of a thousand suns. 

 2. Akin - Emma Donoghue. Novel. There are two stories here, and one gets completely overshadowed by the other. Not my favorite Donoghue novel, although when she seems to falter, she's still really good. I read this for book group.

 3. Class - Stephanie Land. Memoir. Land starts Class where her previous memoir, Maid left off, and concentrates on Land's senior year at the University of Montana, where she is pursuing a BA in Creative Writing, and is hoping to be accepted to the MFA program there. She's also still working cleaning houses and raising her kindergarten-age daughter as a single mother living below the poverty level. As graduation draws near, her life is further complicated by an unplanned pregnancy. She gets more than her share of raised eyebrows and well-meaning  but judgmental advice from classmates and faculty. And, as always, she does ongoing battle with a social services system that borders on Kafkaesque. Stephanie Land's writing is intense. One of her professors said "relentless", and I agree, but only in the best sense. What I like best about both her memoirs is that she's not afraid to portray herself as complex and contradictory. Looking forward to a third memoir.

 4. The Vaster Wilds - Lauren Groff. Historical novel. A young girl, a servant to a minister and his wife is on the run in the 1630s from the diseased and failing settlement of Jamestown. The reader is made to understand that the girl has committed some sort of crime. Her life in the wild is brutal, but through flashbacks, we see that her whole life has been difficult, and seems to have prepared her. given her the mental toughness needed for this latest hardship.

 5. The Secret Diary of Hendrik Groen Age 83 1/4 - "Hendrik Groen". Novel. Audiobook. Set in The Netherlands, Hendrik and his friends, old-age pensioners in a retirement home, get tired of the tedium of the place and start the Old-But-Not-Dead Club in which each member arranges an outing per month for all of them. Hendrik also buys a motorized scooter and explores the area around the home. He is an avid reader of the news, especially when it pertains to senior citizens. His observations are concise, witty, and sometimes pretty savage. His diary follows a whole year, one of great change as he and his friends face up to their physical limitations and still have good times. Derek Jacobi as narrator was an inspired choice, although I sometimes had problems with his vocal dynamics. When Hendrik shouts, he shouts, he lets it all out, but when he was saying witty, caustic things half under his breath, I would often not catch it. When the book ended, I found myself missing these characters.

 6. The Guest - Emma Cline. Novel. After inviting her to spend the summer with him at his house in the Hamptons, Alex's much-older, rich boyfriend suddenly cuts her loose right before Labor Day, having his assistant get her a ticket back to New York City. But Alex has burned all of her bridges back in the city, and has grown accustomed to life among the rich, so she decides that no, she just won't return to NYC. Her plan is to hang around then show up at Simon's (the boyfriend) Labor Day party. By then, she hopes he will reconsider and they'll have a lovely reunion. During the five days Alex is adrift, she taps into her considerable grifting skills, then immediately embraces her genius for the bad decision. I was horrified by Alex, but enjoyed The Guest so much. Really loved the Patricia Highsmith feel of it. And OH MY GOD THAT ENDING! What happened? I went back over the last chapter a few times, looking for clues and developing theories. I'm glad I don't know for sure. I admire Emma Cline for making readers figure it out.

Oh, Jan

 I read six books in January. I was on the verge of the verge of finishing two more books, but then I fell asleep and the calendar page fluttered to February. They will do that, won't they?

1. The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion - Fannie Flagg. Novel. Audiobook. I read this for book group. I went in, fully prepared to dislike it, but this tribute to the WASPS and their gutsy contributions during WWII absolutely charmed me, and filled me with the deepest respect. 

2. Being Henry: The Fonz and Beyond - Henry Winkler. Memoir. Winkler's memoir is a good one to read in conjunction with Ron and Clint Howard's The Boys. Winkler is quite a bit more introspective, though.

3. Bonnie and Clyde: The Making of a Legend - Karen Blumenthal. Nonfiction. Audiobook. Written for the Young Adult set, but the author didn't write down to her audience. Every bit as good as Go Down Together, the quintessential book about the pair.

4. Who Was Salvador Dali? - Paula Manzanero. Nonfiction. I think it's really difficult to capture the full flavor of the enjoyable weirdness that was Dali, but I loved the anecdote about Dali walking an anteater in the Paris Metro.

5. The Witches of Worm - Zilpha Keatley Snyder. Novel. I do wish I'd saved this novel for October. Troubled latchkey child Jessica adopts a newborn kitten she names Worm who seemingly talks to her and tells her to act out in school and at home. Excellent dark, moody atmosphere, although Worm scared me a lot less than Jessica's feckless mother and the mother's douche boyfriend.

6. Child Star - Shirley Temple. Autobiography. So very glad to be done with this book! I've been wrestling with it since July. July 13, to be precise. Child Star covers Temple's life from birth to approximately her late twenties. Her life was fascinating, her research was impeccable, but her writing is stodgy. She wrote the book long after she had entered political life, and it definitely shows.

Booooooktober!

Now, why in the world did I Booo! in my title? I didn't read anything remotely ghosty or scary during the month of October. 

1. Scrappy Little Nobody - Anna Kendrick. Memoir. Audiobook.

2. The Man Who Loved Books - Jean Fritz and Trina Schart Hyman. Juvenile Nonfiction.

3. The Lager Queen of Minnesota - J. Ryan Stradahl. Novel. Reread. Book group book.

4. Happiness Falls - Angie Kim. Novel.

5. Sharp - Michelle Dean. Nonfiction. Audiobook.

Notes:

I was only familiar with Anna Kendrick in Pitch Perfect and that song, Cups. Now I want to immerse myself in her filmography, particularly Into the Woods and Up In the Air.

The Man Who Loved Books was a treasure of a read. St. Columba of Ireland loves books, and since this takes place long before the printing press, he copies by hand any new book he comes across. This gets him into some trouble, and he banishes himself from Ireland. His legend is presented like an illuminated text (Trina Schart Hyman, the illustrator is styled the "illuminator"). Her illustrations are beautifully detailed and often humorous, and the legend is relayed to readers by Jean Fritz with a good dash of Irish swagger. Although this book can be found in the children's department, people of all ages should check it out. The Man Who Loved Books turned out to be my favorite read for October.

The Lager Queen of Minnesota was just as enjoyable this time around as it was the first. J. Ryan Stradahl, please hurry up and write another novel. Or a memoir. Or anything. Ever since Kitchens of the Midwest, I've been a big fan of yours. When I saw you interviewed on KCTV5 a few years ago, I alternated between beaming at the television and squeeeing like a fangirl.

Happiness Falls is a suspense novel set during the 2020 pandemic. The father of a family goes missing, and the only witness is his 14-year-old autistic son, Eugene, who shows up alone at the family home, agitated and with blood on his clothing. The novel is narrated by Eugene's older sister, Mia, who tries to figure it all out while staying one step ahead of a police detective named Janus, who seems determined to pin a crime on Eugene. Like Mia, the novel is fiercely intelligent and often seems all over the place, posing challenging philosophical questions as well as examining every possible scenario about the father's disappearance. Filtered through Mia, Happiness Falls often feels as if it's struggling for air. It can be a frustrating reading experience, but I can't stop thinking about it and I would like to read Angie Kim's first novel, Miracle Creek.

Sharp features portraits of ten women -- Dorothy Parker, Hannah Arendt, Rebecca West, Mary McCarthy, Joan Didion, Nora Ephron, Pauline Kael, Janet Malcolm and Renata Adler with an intriguing cameo of Zora Neale Hurston -- who made their reputations as writers and critics. Sometimes their lives intersected. Occasionally, they were friends, or didn't like one another. Since I really enjoy 20th century literary gossip, this was my cup of tea. Except for the chapter about Renata Adler, which I disliked. It seemed as if Michelle Dean also disliked Adler, and she was passing the punishment on to the readers. Adler's chapter was mercifully short, thank God. Ouch. Come to think of it, maybe *that* was my scary October moment.

Goodbye October and hello to Nonfiction November! I'm building a stack that is engrossing but probably overly ambitious.

April, 2022: So Very Triggered

I'm really pleased with my April reading. A couple of books really triggered me, but like Kafka or someone said (and I'm wildly paraphrasing), we *should* read books that pierce us and chop like axes into where our deepest feels reside. Strangely, those visceral reactions still come as a shock, even more than a half-century after I burst into tears and threw Jane Eyre across the room after reading the first chapter.

1. The Devil All the Time - Donald Ray Pollock. Novel. I'm so annoyed with myself. Five years ago, my friend Mary M. told me, nearly ordered me to read this book. I dutifully bought it and stored it on my main fiction bookshelf in the living room for yes, half a decade. So finally, it jumps off the shelf and into my hands and for the next day-and-a-half, I could not leave it alone. Brilliant hillbilly noir. Like almost everyone else, I was reminded of the Coen brothers and Jim Thompson. The next time Mary M. makes a recommendation, I won't be so skittish.

2. French Braid - Anne Tyler. Novel. Did I walk? No, of course not. I ran to the bookstore. My excuses for buying a book as opposed to waiting for a library copy were threefold: 

First excuse: It's Anne Tyler, duh.

Second excuse: The bookstore almost fell into oblivion and was rescued at Christmastime last year. Use it or lose it.

Third excuse: I was feeling hard done by because of my poor smashed-up car. 

I won't say French Braid is my favorite Anne Tyler, but I'll always remember it for getting under my skin. Like most of her novels, French Braid deals in slightly dysfunctional family dynamics. But what got me was a cat who is in the novel for only about a dozen pages. I adored him, and then. Well, let's just say that one of the characters didn't adore him, and didn't change her mind about him, not ever. I had tears in my eyes. Desmond! For days, I kept grabbing up the Spawn's and my cat, Starman, and hugging him and saying Desmond, Desmond. I recounted this plot point to anyone who would listen and even voiced my dissatisfaction on Twitter. The Spawn's response: Ob-la-di, Ob-la-dah.

3. Ocean State - Stewart O'Nan. Novel. In Rhode Island, a teenage love triangle goes horribly wrong. Lots of atmosphere. Pitch-perfect cadences of modern life. Ocean State reads like a pulpy true crime book and I was also getting whiffs of Joyce Carol Oates, but a more controlled JCO. Another book that I couldn't put down. O'Nan is a master. Now I have to wait another two years for his next book to come out. Damn.

4. Crying In H Mart -Michelle Zauner. Memoir. It was bound to happen: My homesickness for Korea and my grief over losing my mother all came crashing together in a single volume. Zauner, the lead singer for Japanese Breakfast, writes achingly and vividly about taking care of her mother in the few short months between her cancer diagnosis and death interspersed with memories of their trips to Korea to visit family once every two years, and their shared love for Korean food and culture. Then after her mother is gone, Michelle has to negotiate the grief and the guilt and figure out how to deal with it. She travels. She makes a lot of kimchi. She visits family in Korea. She writes. She performs with her band. And it's all so true and exquisite and heartbreaking. Crying In H Mart was my favorite read for April. I want everyone to read it, and I want an H Mart that is closer than Chicago. Yes, I bought this book. Could not resist the red cover and the ramen noodles that make the H in the title.

5. Who Was Charles Schulz? - Joan Holub. Nonfiction. A serviceable, workmanlike portrait of the beloved creator of the Peanuts comic strip.

6. What Was The Harlem Renaissance? - Sherri L. Smith. The Harlem Renaissance was rich, complex, and exciting. That era from the nineteen-tens through the 1930s just exploded with art in all forms. It's too much to cover in one of the volumes in this series. The Harlem Renaissance just cannot be constrained into the 108-page format. Still, Sherri L. Smith provides a great jumping-off point for readers of all ages to learn more about this dynamic time.

So Long, November

Good news from the hometown! We were in danger of losing our only bookstore. The owners wanted to retire, and were having trouble finding a new owner. The store even put up liquidation signs. I would have had to drive an hour to Kansas City or an hour to Columbia just to go to a bookstore. Yikes. But all is well. The bookstore has a new owner and he takes over on December first. This feels like such a gift. 

Today is the last day of November. Yesterday, I had the funniest feeling: There was something about November 29 that I knew was significant, and I couldn't place it. You know when Peter Parker says his spidey-sense is tingling? Well, it was like that, except it was a bookworm thing. Finally, right before I went to bed, I got it: Mark Twain's birthday! What a relief.

Speaking of Mr. Clemens, the library has The Autobiography of Mark Twain in audiobook. Lots and lots of listening hours. I want to commit to it, but its so long and checkout times are so short -- only two weeks and you can only renew three times. I guess I could shrug off the overdue notices and turn it back in when I'm damn well good and ready, but I actually like being a good library citizen. 

So, anyway: Since I was last here, the angry scribble in my left eye (yes, it's called a floater, but that reminds me of what happens to your poo when you eat too much fast food) seems less pronounced, but it's always a cloudy day on that side. But the right side is nice and clear and I'm driving again, which feels wonderful. My time in the car with my audiobook is the coziest time of the day. Who says you can't get hygge with it going down the highway at 65-70 miles per hour?

What I read:

Fresh Off The Boat - Eddie Huang. Memoir. My favorite parts of this book were Huang's exuberant and evocative descriptions of food. Lots of energy in this memoir. I enjoyed it more than an earlier food-related memoir this year: David Chang's Eat A Peach.

Grandma Pottymouth's Fast as Fuck Cookbook - Peggy Glenn. Cookbook. Since I didn't learn to cook until I was an adult, preparing meals has always been about ease. The way I measure that is by how many swears I used to get the food from ingredient to table. Grandma Pottymouth delightfully plays into all of that. Her recipes are easy to follow -- I don't think any of them are more than a page -- and helpful ("Spread that shit on the cookie sheet") and she swears so I don't have to! I haven't tried all the recipes. Some feature pine nuts, and I don't go there. Enchilada Casserole was delicious. The inelegantly named Slop was all right. Even Granny herself admits that it's just okay the first night, but gets better in leftover form. I'm not sure about that. My very favorite recipe is Sweet Potato and Chicken Get Married on a Ranch (Dressing, That Is). Brilliant, unconventional combination of sweet potato, chicken pieces, onion, and a packet of ranch seasoning mix. Baked in the oven. Oh my God, the aroma. The taste. I want some right now!

Getaway - Zoje Stage. Novel. After I read Baby Teeth, nothing else would do but more Zoje Stage. Two sisters and their friend from high school go on a camping trip in the Grand Canyon. The younger sister and the friend have some unresolved baggage, and younger sister has also just missed being mowed down in a synagogue shooting back in Pittsburgh. The camping trip is meant to be a time of healing and reconciliation, but someone is following them and tampering with their supplies. Welcome to the camping trip from Hell. I really admire and appreciate Stage's writing. She works really hard to craft multifaceted characters and still keep the pace nice and brisk. She's also great at atmosphere. 

The Boys - Ron Howard and Clint Howard. Memoir. I devoured this memoir in happy, hungry gulps. Conversational in tone (much like a family reunion), The Boys details the meeting of Harold Beckenholdt and Jean Speegle, two theatre majors at the University of Oklahoma, who impetuously elope to New York to become actors. Harold changes his first name to Rance and the family name to Howard and in due time, they give birth to Ron and Clint who turn out to be quite literally, born actors. Jean gives up acting to care for the family. Rance gets bit parts here and there and the kids' careers go into the stratosphere with The Andy Griffith Show (Ronny, as Ron was then known) and Gentle Ben (Clint). Rance and Jean closely managed their sons' careers, but they weren't horrible stage parents, and Rance taught them how to act rather than just performing and parroting lines. There's just enough scruff on this memoir (swearing, Clint had problems with substance abuse, Ron clashed with his parents about his early attachment to his future wife, Cheryl) to keep it from being sickeningly wholesome. I enjoyed reading about Ron's early interest in what goes on behind the camera, and his development as a director. Damn good read. You couldn't go wrong giving this one as a Christmas gift.

What I DNFed:

How To Change Your Mind - Michael Pollan. Nonfiction. But I don't really mean it as a DNF. Just a "Well, it was overdue and I had to turn it back in to the library, and I'll take it up again later."

What I'm reading:

A Carnival of Snackery - David Sedaris. Diaries. Audiobook. I would read anything by David Sedaris, and his diaries are most certainly better than most. I love that Tracey Ullmann is reading the entries from England while David reads all the others. Still, these compilations of diaries make me uneasy. It's like Sedaris is getting rid of everything. Cleaning out his closets. Swedish death cleaning. I'm laughing, but also feeling an undercurrent of sadness.

Wonderland - Zoje Stage. Novel. This one is crazy with atmosphere. Kind of like Shirley Jackson and The Haunting of Hill House.

Kings Row - Henry Bellamann. Novel. Getting those enjoyable Peyton Place vibes.

What I want to read:

Taste - Stanley Tucci. Memoir. WANT

Where I want to go: 

Fulton, Missouri. Apparently, Kings Row = Fulton, MO c.1890s. The good people of Fulton were reportedly pissed when they read Kings Row and started recognizing people and locales.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Zoje Stage's books all feature Pittsburgh in one way or another. Her love for her city shines through.

What I'm watching:

The Office Season 5

And now, it's the first day of December. I can't wait to look back at all the good books I've read this year. So many great discoveries. And cheese!

Late September, 2021: Hold The Phone

 What I'm scratching my head about:

I recently overheard The Spawn tell someone that he was 6 months ahead on his blog posts. What the hell?! Here I am, always running behind on my posts like someone with a broken-off heel chasing the last bus. And he has SIX MONTHS of bloggy freshness and goodness in the can??? That's half a year!!!

So yeah, I know eavesdropping is a bad habit, but The Spawn knows my flaws as well as anyone, so I asked him:

Me: [skipping the niceties] How the hell did you get six months ahead with your blog?

Spawn: [startled] What? I'm not six months ahead.

Me: [feeling uncomfortable, wondering if I'm going to have to give up eavesdropping because my hearing has gone bad] Oh, I thought you said --

Spawn: I'm two months ahead.

Me: Oh! Two! Again, how the hell...?!

What I read:

September is nearly finished, and it looks like it's going to be just three books completed this month: 

The Andy Warhol Diaries - Andy Warhol, Pat Hackett, ed.

Who Was Frida Kahlo? - Sarah Fabiny

The Lacuna - Barbara Kingsolver

Two of the books (The Lacuna and The Andy Warhol Diaries) were pretty chunky, to explain my low book count for this month. I also blame my newfound ardent fangirling of The Office and some new involved reading projects. If I'm being absolutely forthcoming, I should also cite my time on the phone as a reason. However, I did hit my dinger on Goodreads! I pledged to read 60 books in 2021, and The Lacuna put me at 62. 

What I'm reading:

Warhol - Blake Gopnik. I'm starting to worry because I haven't picked this biography up in almost a week. Every page is so very dense with information. Andy is still in art school in Pittsburgh! I can't go on/I'll go on.

American Cheese - Joe Berkowitz. Enjoying it immensely, but slow going. This is because some tasty information will strike my fancy and I'll stop reading and start down as many rabbit holes (Hello, Phone!) as there are holes in aged Swiss. My latest detour was to Erika Kubick's mouthwatering blog Cheese Sex Death It was there that I discovered her nationwide list of places to buy cheese, and guess what??? There is a place practically in my backyard, a mere 20 miles away in Sweet Springs. It's called, appropriately enough, The Cheese Store. Time to go a-fromage-ing. Lastly, here is a list of cheeses I've eaten this week: Sharp Cheddar, Baby Swiss, and Blue Cheese. 

The Office: The Untold Story of the Greatest Sitcom of the 2000s - Andy Greene. I absolutely love how this book about my new favorite show is put together. There's a short introduction at the beginning of each chapter, then it goes into interviews with writers, directors, and actors reminiscing about the show. It starts right from the very beginning, the utterly true beginning with Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant going back to when the UK Office was merely a glimmer of a brainchild. The documentary style of presentation is perfect since the show is a "mockumentary". Do I still have to put that in quotes, or is it a part of the language by now?

What I DNFed:

An audiobook, and I really don't want to admit to it, because it's by a distinguished literary presence who recently died. I've read several of the author's other books and admired them, but this one didn't click for me at all. To make matters worse, the author was the narrator and their voice was raspy. Sentences would fade towards the end. I didn't even make it to the end of the first CD. It's back in the library now.

What I'd like to read:

Cheese Sex Death - Erika Kubick. Hope there's loads of pictures.

Nightbitch: A Novel - Rachel Yoder. I can't resist a title like that.

Blind Man's Bluff - James Tate Hill. Memoir.

Cack-Handed - Gina Yashere. Memoir. 

What I need:

Another audiobook!

Welcome To My Reading Week: Early July, 2021

 Okay, let's do this. I've got my Belle (Beauty and the Beast) socks on and my reading journal at my side. Here's a look at my read life from July 1-11:

What I read:

Who Is Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson? - James Buckley, Jr. Nonfiction. I know that I complained about the 50-page offerings in the Who Was...? series, but this one felt just right. Not rushed at all. I enjoyed reading about how Dwayne Johnson grew up with a father and grandfather who were famous wrestlers, and how Dwayne tried to become a successful pro football player before following in the family business and finding success in the WWE. Despite its brevity, the book did justice to Johnson's charm and charisma.

The Mayor of MacDougal Street - Dave Van Ronk. Memoir. Recently, I watched Inside Llewyn Davies, a Coen brothers movie that came out a few years ago, while I was living in Busan. It was one of the films featured at the Busan International Film Festival, but I couldn't get a ticket to see it. The story of a folksinger going through a rough patch in Greenwich Village in 1961, the title character is loosely based on Dave Van Ronk who seemed to know everyone and everybody across several musical genres, including a new kid from Minnesota called Bob Dylan. Van Ronk died in the middle of working on this memoir, so parts of it feel a bit disjointed, and while his musical insights are illuminating and entertaining, those sections are a bit rambly. Ditto for his political views. Still, I'm glad to have read The Mayor of MacDougal Street. (Many thanks to The Spawn for tracking down both the book and the movie for me.) Dave Van Ronk was a hilarious guy with a trenchant sense of humor, and his chapter about a cross-country trip from NYC to LA with a fellow musician and a 12-year-old kid in tow makes up for the unevenness of some of the other chapters. One big surprise: Dave Van Ronk was also heavily into science fiction fandom. What if he was at a convention I attended in San Francisco back in the early 1990s? My heart beats a little faster to imagine it. By the way: If anyone is working on a time machine, please consider sending me to Greenwich Village, 1958-1961. Thank you.

What I'm reading:

The Night Watchman - Louise Erdrich. Novel. At first, I didn't like the latest winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and complained about it bitterly in a couple of letters to my bookwormy friends Care and Teri. But once I got to the 170-page mark, I settled in, or Louise Erdrich settled in, and now I like it much better. 

Little Bird of Heaven - Joyce Carol Oates. Novel. I'm audiobooking this one, and I love it. Typical JCO dark and depressing and sharp with an upper New York State setting to match the bleakness of the narrative. I never thought of listening to Oates on audiobook before, but it's an inspired match. I feel a little crazy after my commute, but in a good way.

Cheeky: A Head-to-Toe Memoir - Ariella Elovic. Graphic Novel. If Elovic never does another book in her whole career, and she will, because she's only 30, she will have performed a valuable service to female humanity. This funny, frank, charming, whimsical, eye-opening memoir is her effort to change the conversation with herself about her body self-consciousness from "Imperfection!" to "I'm perfection!" I'm already halfway through Cheeky and loving every single page of it. I think it's already influencing my thinking, because I winced when a friend took a selfie of herself and her pet and asked us to excuse her unmade-up face, which is absolutely beautiful as it is. Anyway, I hope Cheeky gathers a wide audience, and I wish it could have somehow been around back in the 1970s and 1980s. There's that time machine longing again.

February, 2020 Reading: A Nice Mix

I always make a preliminary sketch in my mind of what my reading month will look like, and guess what? The end-of-the-month sketch hardly ever matches up! It's like drawing a picture of Brad Pitt and coming up with Laurel and Hardy. Of course I can't complain; I had a great reading month. Not as many books as I had hoped -- and I always hope for 10+ a mostly futile hope -- but a nice mix. Nothing I disliked or DNFed, which is always a bonus.

1. Outliers - Malcolm Gladwell. I think this may be my favorite Gladwell book so far. Gladwell takes a close look at people who became supremely successful in their fields. Are they one-of-a-kind special cases that sprang from nowhere? Gladwell investigates and finds that along the way, there were people and circumstances that helped these people achieve their zenith. It doesn't happen in a vaccuum. For example, with hockey players, the earlier you're born in the year, the better your chances are of ascending to the NHL. The Beatles played eight hour gigs night after night in Hamburg, providing them with the now-familiar 10,000 hours of practice to become experts. Same with Bill Gates. He went to an affluent high school with an involved PTA who bought computers, and he had the opportunity to spend thousands of hours getting to know them. What about Asians being better at math? Does it all go back to rice farming? And how is rice farming different that the farming generally done in the United States? And how does that impact our education system? A fun read. My brain always feels pleasantly hopped up after an outing with Malcolm Gladwell. I'm sorry it took me so long to discover him.

2. Me - Elton John. This is everything a memoir should be: Warm, gossipy, honest, funny, slightly self-deprecating. Also, I could actually hear Elton John's voice in my mind's ear. I'd been looking forward to reading Me for months, and it was such a treat. If I were to rank my reads for February, this would be number one.

3. LaRose - Louise Erdrich. I'm not sure and I'd have to look back through almost 30 years of keeping records of what I've read, but I think this is the first book I've read by Louise Erdrich. The novel begins with a tragedy that impacts two families, one family's attempt at atonement, and the ways they move through their grief. Erdrich's prose is as clear and clean as water. Her writing is heavily character-driven, which I love, but sometimes, LaRose seemed overly people-y; I had to turn back to earlier passages to remind myself about who this character was and how they were related to the main characters. Adding to my enjoyment, there was one section featuring the two male protagonists that reminded me of Raymond Carver. It took a while, but I'm now a Louise Erdrich fan. Looking forward to reading more of her novels. Many thanks to Unruly Reader for sending LaRose my way.

4. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee. I revisited the classic novel for the first time since 9th grade English class, and it was like reading a whole new book. I honestly did not remember huge sections. This is probably because of the amount of time elapsed, and also because as a 14-year-old, I wouldn't have had as much background knowledge (don't educators refer to this as scaffolding?) to retain relevant and sometimes subtle interactions. Also, multiple viewings of the 1962 movie probably took its place. It's one of those circumstances in which I'm okay with that.

5. Patti LuPone: A Memoir - Patti LuPone. I enjoyed this book in much the same way I enjoyed Me. Patti LuPone is delightful. She makes you feel as exhilarated and exhausted as she is during the run of a musical. She's delightful (oops, already said that. oh well, it's true!) and bitchy and not at all shy about settling scores. She's definitely earned that privilege. I would welcome a second volume updated to include the musical War Paint, in which Christine Ebersole as Elizabeth Arden faces off against Patti LuPone's Helena Rubinstein.

Nine and Nine

These are the nine books I read in September:

1. Homesick for Another World - Ottessa Moshfegh. Short story collection, and the best one I've read in years. Make that decades.

2. Girl [Maladjusted] - Molly Jong-Fast. Slight but saucy memoir written when Jong-Fast was in her 20s. I first became aware of her on Twitter where her posts are lively, pungent and frequent, just the way I like them.

3. Eat Stop Eat - Brad Pilon. One of the pioneers of intermittent fasting. A lot of science, but if you struggle with that sort of writing, as I do, it's worth the effort.

4. Educated - Tara Westover. This memoir of a girl from a strict, survivalist Mormon family who went from almost pure ignorance to study at Cambridge had me nearly breathless with horror at close intervals. Every time she went back to the mountain to see her family, I was screaming, "Don't go there! Stay away!" Educated has all the tension of a well-executed novel, which is probably why many readers doubt Westover's veracity. I don't doubt her. The details are extremely specific, and Westover is painstaking in her exploration of memory, comparing her own experiences with her siblings'. Don't miss this one. Excellent read.

5. Giant: Elizabeth Taylor, Rock Hudson, James Dean, Edna Ferber and the Making of a Legendary Film  -Don Graham. I bought this book because I like behind-the-scenes gossip about moviemaking, and also because the dust jacket is extraordinarily gorgeous. The 1955 movie's main claim to fame is that it was James Dean's last appearance on film. I started watching Giant after reading this book, but had to pause after an hour. It feels really slow and ponderous. Thumbs-up to Graham's look at it, though. I would like to read the novel, although Edna Ferber is kind of a mixed bag for me.

6. Humans of New York - Brandon Stanton. A wonderful book-long photo essay that shows occupants of New York beautifully captured, shining out their humanity and truth. A visual feast.

7. Unbecoming - Rebecca Scherm. I liked this novel better than I thought I would. Kept getting enjoyable whiffs of Gillian Flynn and Patricia Highsmith. The ending was a little disappointing, but overall, a good read. I like being surprised out of my assumptions.

8. Heroes of the Frontier - Dave Eggers. After what has been a rotten year, Josie hurls herself into the Alaskan wilderness with her two young children in tow. I'm not sure what Eggers is trying to accomplish in this novel, because Josie's journey is more about good luck than good management. Maybe a modern spin on Jack London? In spite of my puzzlement, I did enjoy the book; I even enjoyed Eggers' sometimes long-winded rantiness via Josie about the modern world.

9. Can You Ever Forgive Me? - Lee Israel.  In the spirit of Catch Me If You Can, Israel cool and unrepentant, recounts her stint as a literary forger when her career of writing bestselling biographies suddenly tanked. I can't help admiring her creativity and audacity. This episode in her life has been made into a movie starring Melissa McCarthy; I MUST see it. I also want to check out Israel's biographies of Tallulah Bankhead and Dorothy Kilgallen.  A fast, entertaining read.

Common Bonds:

Giant was based on an Edna Ferber novel.  Ferber was one of the literary lions Lee Israel forged in Can You Ever Forgive Me?

Educated and Heroes of the Frontier: Raw, sometimes unforgiving wilderness terrain.

Homesick for Another World and Can You Ever Forgive Me? Moshfegh and Israel have similar hardboiled, audacious writing styles.

Nine Books, Eighth Month

Nine books! Not too bad.

I tried for that tenth book, but

couldn't...quite...reach.

Here's what I did read in August:

1. Dad is Fat - Jim Gaffigan. I warmed up to this memoir slowly. Not too fond of the chapters before Gaffigan and his wife were parents, but when the five (!) kids came along, it was comedy gold. I also have his book, Food: A Love Story. Audiobook, read by Gaffigan.

2. Priestdaddy - Patricia Lockwood. In this memoir, Lockwood and her husband move from Savannah, Georgia back in with her parents in Kansas City. Her father is a Catholic priest who received a special dispensation to become a priest even though he was married and had a family. They are all rather unconventional to say the least. Lockwood's writing is the star of the show. She does wondrous things with language.

3. Heartbreak Hotel - Anne Rivers Siddons. A coming-of-age story about a Southern young woman coming to grips with the changes sweeping the South during the summer of 1955.

4. My Year of Rest and Relaxation - Ottessa Moshfegh. Moshfegh has somehow become my favorite writer. Last year, I read her novel Eileen and was amazed. Enjoyable whiffs of Jim Thompson and Patricia Highsmith. In her latest, the unnamed narrator wants to hibernate for a year. It's weird and darkly funny. Brilliant. Fun fact: The picture on the cover is from a portrait by the French painter David. The US cover has been altered slightly -- the young woman's nipples have been airbrushed out. I think it's because of Amazon, but I'm not sure. It is rather a US thing, isn't it, to be scandalized by women's nipples?

5. Conviction - Juan Martinez. The prosecuting attorney in the Jodi Arias trial tells about bringing her to justice. The writing style seemed flat and forced.

6. 90s Bitch - Allison Yarrow. Yarrow goes back and explores the decade that seemed in retrospect (media, culture) to hate the hell out of women. After Anita Hill, it was all Down Hill. Read and remember. Get pissed, get woke, stay woke.

7. The Road to Little Dribbling - Bill Bryson. This is Bryson's follow-up to Notes From a Small Island, and man, it was a hard go. When did Our Bill become such a cranky old man? If he does a follow-up to At Home, I'm sure his recurring phrase will be "Get off my lawn!" Audiobook.

8. Fast Diets for Dummies - Kellyann Petrucci, Patrick Flynn. OK, I read this book because I'm interested in the concept of intermittent fasting. They go on and on too much about Paleo, though. My body is very WTF? to me when I try to do that.

9. Amy Falls Down - Jincy Willett.  Amy, a fiction writer who is rather obscure, falls down on New Year's Day (also her birthday) while trying to plant her Christmas tree and cracks her head on the birdbath. The same day, she gives an interview that she doesn't remember and it leads to her being rediscovered. Tart, lively prose laced with irony. I laughed out loud several times. I see why David Sedaris is one of her fans!

Common bonds in this month's reading:

Dad is Fat and Priestdaddy: Catholic upbringing. Memoirs. Five children.

Dad is Fat and My Year of Rest and Relaxation: Getting around in New York City.

Heartbreak Hotel and My Year of Rest and Relaxation:  Both protagonists are exceedingly attractive. Shitty boyfriends. Both take to their beds when life starts to suck.

My Year of Rest and Relaxation and Amy Falls Down: Lots of unkind but very witty observations about people they encounter.

The Nine of July, 2018

Here are the nine books I read and listened to during July:

1. No Ordinary Time - Doris Kearns Goodwin. A portrait of Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt during the WWII years. I audiobooked this one. Found out too late that it was abridged, but the late Edward Herrmann's narration was everything.

2. The Good Daughter - Karin Slaughter. Oh no. No. Did not like. The premise was intriguing -- two sisters, their defense attorney father and a violent crime in their past that collides with the title character's present -- and I appreciated the whiffs of Flannery O'Connor and Harper Lee, but the whole thing was so overwritten and bloated.

3. A Raisin in the Sun - Lorraine Hansberry. I finally read this classic 1959 play about a Chicago family trying to move out of the inner city and all of the stumbling blocks that come from forces both outside and inside. I was impressed and moved by Hansberry's description of her characters and other aspects from the stage directions. I wish she had lived out a full lifespan, because she would be a majestic driving force in so many different art forms.

4. Kitchens of the Great Midwest - J. Ryan Stradal. Audiobook. The story of Eva, a woman with a once-in-a-lifetime palate that she seemed to have inherited from her chef father and wine connoisseur mother, is a delight. The book is structured in chapters featuring characters that all played a part in Eva's life. It's like a recipe, of sorts, which works because food is a recurring theme. It's funny and poignant. The narrators -- one male and one female -- are on point. I can't believe I hemmed and hawed about reading this book for a couple of years. One of my favorites for the month.

5. The Letters of Sylvia Plath Vol. I 1940-1956 - Sylvia Plath. Peter K. Steinberg and Karen V. Kukil, eds. I finally finished this huge tome of letters written by the youthful Sylvia. This volume takes the reader up to October, 1956. Sylvia Plath is keeping her marriage to fellow poet Ted Hughes a secret because she's afraid of losing her scholarship to Cambridge. They are living apart and finding the situation untenable. I wish I could freeze time at this point and leave them in love and trembling on the cusp of fame. Vol II 1956-1963 comes out soon. September in the UK and October 30 in the US. Steinberg and Kukil are brilliant editors. It was such a relief to read Sylvia's words without all the choppy ellipses.

6. Killing and Dying - Adrian Tomine. I was so pleased to find this graphic short story collection. I've been a big fan of Tomine's since I read Shortcomings. He's described as the graphic novel Raymond Carver, and that seems to be apt. The title comes from a story about a would-be comedian.

7. Lover of Unreason - Yehuda Koren and Eilat Negev. A biography of Assia Wevill, the woman who is best known for her part in the breakup of Sylvia Plath's and Ted Hughes' marriage. By the time she entered their lives, she was on her third marriage and had a history of infidelities. From her history, one would have predicted that Hughes would have been another scalp in her belt, to put it crudely, but she met her match. I began Lover of Unreason absolutely despising Assia, but by the end, I was surprised to feel deep sympathy. This is for readers who want to know the rest of the story -- what happened after the events of February 11, 1963.

8. Born a Crime - Trevor Noah. Noah's memoir would be entertaining in any form, but I'm glad I got the audiobook. He is so funny and such a great narrator. The people in his life, especially his mother, spring to life. The book is also educational because the reader gets thumbnail sketches of South Africa's troubled history and sharp observations about the hateful, convoluted, contrived system that was apartheid. This was my favorite read (listen) for July.

9. The Bell Jar: A Novel of the Fifties - Linda Wagner-Martin. I'd forgotten how dull literary criticism can be. The Bell Jar is so vibrant, but you'd never know it from these essays about the book that are as dry as Shredded Wheat.

Although I only read nine for July, I'm pleased with the list, which seems like a good mix, if you don't count my Plath obsession.

Get a load of this: A friend actually told me that I couldn't count the books I listened to because I didn't read them with my eyes.  I took a deep breath and explained without swearing or screaming that the books were merely coming through one of my other senses and still had to be processed by my brain. Any book processed by my brain was going into my reading journal. The End.

Hours later, I realized I'd forgotten to mention people who read in Braille.

 But really. Sheesh.

What's The Matter Here?

That title has nothing to do with the 10,000 Maniacs song about child abuse. It has everything to do with my neglect of this blog.

What's the matter, Bybee? I asked myself. Don't you want to blog?

Yes.

Then, BLOG, damnit.

Well, okay, then.

***

Since I last checked in 6 weeks ago, I've been to Chicago once (almost-almost met Unruly Reader!) and my mom has been in the hospital twice. Now she's back in the nursing home for yet another short convalescence. We are on a crazy carousel ride: Home, hospital, nursing home. She wants to come home soon, but I'm not seeing any real strength built up yet. I say stay a little longer and she tells me tales of my cruelty. Wash, rinse and repeat.

In spite of all this and a mean work schedule, I am still reading. It's the rope ladder I cling to with a bulldog's intensity. Here's what I've completed since we last met and I talked about my reADDing problem:

A Gentleman in Moscow - Amor Towles. I wasn't sure about this novel, but I buckled down and finished, and was rewarded for my efforts with the sudden whiffs of Casablanca-like intrigue. Towles' writing is gorgeous in that way that black-and-white movies are -- silvery and shimmery.

See What I Have Done - Sarah Schmidt. The atmosphere in this book about the Borden family in the days of the infamous murders is so thick you would need a machete to cut it, but take away the atmosphere and all that's left is excellent research and a shell of a story. I wanted to love this novel much more than I did.

I bailed on Confederates in the Attic by Tony Horwitz. Just wasn't feeling it.

A Good Marriage - Stephen King. This novella about a wife who finds out who and what her husband really is after almost 30 years is a trifle, a mere whisper of King's real narrative power. I enjoyed it as an audiobook.

Harriet Tubman - Kem Knapp Sawyer. A biography from the D-K series written for young adult readers. Very well done, although some of the material added for breadth and to put Harriet's world in perspective sometimes seems tangential. I am so glad that Harriet Tubman is going to be put on the $20 bill. I want to see her face nearly every day and rejoice in her bravery and badassery.

You Don't Have to Say You Love Me - Sherman Alexie. Alexie's memoir of his mother isn't just about her, but he circles and circles and comes back continually. His wife commented that the book is pieced together like a quilt, which is an apt observation. It has a raw and improvised feel until you start to perceive its patterns. I'm always excited to see triangulation in memoirs. Both funny and heartbreaking. Recommended.

I'll Be Damned - Eric Braeden. I'm a longtime fan of The Young and the Restless and Victor Newman is my favorite character. I'd love to experience this memoir as an audiobook with Braeden doing the honors, of course.

A Little Life - Hanya Yanagihara. There is so much wrong with this book, yet I'm still thinking about it every single day. It's awkward, it's overwritten and under-edited and yet I was compelled to finish. I read it everywhere: the hospital, drive-in, cafeteria at work, in bed at night and in the mornings, in the car. It was intense and remorseless. I wanted to scream. Still sitting here staring down at a huge box of feelings in my lap.

Dark Victory: The Life of Bette Davis - Ed Sikov. My favorite parts of the book were the ones in which Sikov discussed Bette Davis' films at great length. He has a witty, acerbic style that matches his subject almost perfectly. When I finished the book, I longed to see a marathon of Bette Davis movies. I still do. Pass the popcorn.

A few days ago, I DNF'ed The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwartz. The premise -- that we have too much choice with everything and it doesn't add to our happiness -- was interesting, but I felt bogged down with dull writing as well as all the research and studies that seemed to act as padding for the book.

Annie Oakley - Chuck Wills. Another in the D-K biographies for young readers. This time, when the author added some breadth for context, it didn't feel so much like he had to struggle to bring it back to Annie. Lovely photographs. The soundtrack in my head has played Annie Get Your Gun for days, although the real Annie wasn't much like Ethel Merman.

My current read is Unf*ck Your Habitat by Rachel Hoffman. I'm such a sucker for decluttering books. Hoffman is not as charming as Marie Kondo, but she's effective. I haven't finished UfYH yet, but I suspect that her influence led me here to unf*ck my blog. Will it stay unf*cked? Stay tuned.

P.S. It's my Spawn's birthday. Born in 1984, (no, I didn't plan that) he's a kickass bookworm in his own right. He's reading Carry On by Rainbow Rowell.

In Which I Try to Remember What I Read in December

No, I'm kidding. My December reading was fantastic. Mostly.

1. Notorious RBG: The Life and Times of Ruth Bader Ginsberg - Irin Carmon and Shana Knizhnik. (Nonfiction)  An energetic, ardent look at our second female (and first coolest!) United States Supreme Court justice. From the time RBG graduated from law school, (where she and the other female students were made to feel guilty for taking a spot that a male student could have had) she worked tirelessly to eliminate discrimination towards both women and men. As I read about her career, my admiration grew by leaps and bounds. Her lifelong romance with her husband and fellow lawyer, Marty, made me tear up. Her strong feelings about legal writing being crystal clear, her obsession with opera, her ability to do push-ups in her ninth decade had me completely in her thrall. When my son asked me to give him a list for my birthday/Christmas, I included a Notorious RBG t-shirt. And I got it! Great read. I'm not sure I absorbed all its goodness the first time, so I have plans for a reread.

2. Hillbilly Elegy - J.D. Vance. (Nonfiction, memoir)  Vance is a former Marine and a Yale Law School graduate and is light-years from his troubling upbringing in the Rust Belt. He grew up in a poor, depressed area and his mother had problems with drug abuse. After his parents divorced, his mother brought in several stepfather figures who didn't stick around long. His life seemed to be going down a similarly bad path until he moved in with his maternal grandmother. Vance often appears stunned that he made it out of that background, and rigorously examines not only his own experience, but the collective experience of the culture he refers to as hillbilly. The triangulation he uses to make sense of everything lifts this book beyond the standard memoir. I was totally engrossed and could not stop reading Hillbilly Elegy.  Highly recommended.

3. The Maid's Version - Daniel Woodrell. (Novel) After Hillbilly Elegy, I had a reading hangover that left me hungry for more stories of that kind, so I thought about rereading Winter's Bone as a complement, but instead settled on another Daniel Woodrell novel, The Maid's Version. This short novel, set in the late 1920s, packs a hell of a wallop.  It's both myth and mystery -- the story of a dance hall fire in a small Missouri town. The maid in the title is the narrator's grandmother, an old woman half-crazed by the death of her sister in that fire. All during a summer when the narrator visits her as a 12-year-old boy, she serves up southern cooking and seemingly unconnected vignettes. She's like the Ancient Mariner (floor-length gray hair instead of an albatross) with a whiff of Chaucer. The language is distinctly Ozarkian, but the early 20th century slang lends to that aura of myth. Woodrell is madly brilliant. He says more in a half of a page than many writers say in several chapters.  I'm so glad I finally read this book. I'm grateful to my reading buddy, Pablo, for introducing me to Woodrell's writing in the first place.

4. Meat: A Love Story - Susan Bourette. Bourette, a Canadian reporter, went undercover as a worker in a pork processing plant. After a couple of days of slicing hog cheeks, she understandably fled the job and intended to live out the rest of her days as a vegetarian. She lasted only a few weeks before stumbling into a diner and ordering everything meat on the menu. The rest of the book details her quest to find the perfect meat meal. Her travels take her to Alaska to hunt and eat whale, to a steakhouse in Texas, to an upscale butcher shop in New York City and game-hunting. All of her adventures were interesting, but her writing didn't draw me in very much. Her style seems perfunctory and as a reader, I felt at a cool arm's length. The subtitle, "A Love Story" implies more heat than is present. I really wanted to like this book more than I did.

The end of 2016 found me working on two books:

 The very long and involving Parade's End by Ford Madox Ford. This is actually an omnibus of four novels Ford wrote from 1924-28 about English society pre-, during, and post-WWI as observed through one character, Christopher Tietjens. I have a bit of a lovehate hatelove relationship with this book and often wonder what in God's name I've gotten myself into. Ford Madox Ford wrote in that modern stream-of-consciousness style, but he often seems uncomfortable and ham-handed with it. Or maybe it's me that's uncomfortable; I'm listening to the audiobook, and when Tietjens goes off on tangent after tangent, I'm worried that I'm going to lose the whole thread because I'm also concentrating on my driving. The narrator of the book, Steven Crossley, is wonderful and probably the force that keeps me going.

 Her Again, a biography about the early life and career of Meryl Streep.  What a pleasurable reading experience! I've followed her whole career, and I've always found her mesmerizing.  One of my fantasies is to have an uninterrupted week in which I watch or re-watch every Streep movie. If there were a Meryl Streep t-shirt, I'd wear it.

Next up:

I'll look back at what I read in 2016, revisit my biblio resolutions for that year then proceed to make new ones for 2017.

What I Read When I Read in November, 2016

Since it's now almost mid-December, this post may be a little stale, but hopefully still tasty.

Germinal - Emile Zola. Thanks to Roger Pearson's in-your-face translation, this novel was eons better on the second go-around. True to the spirit of Zola's credo, "I'm here to kick ass and write novels." Well, maybe he didn't say that, but it must have been something like that. And in French.

Tampa - Alissa Nutting. Boy-lita. I still can't believe I enjoyed this novel so much and that I don't mind admitting it. Although, looking back, I've always enjoyed a good novel about a bad character and would take that anytime over a bad novel about a good character. Maybe even a good novel about a good character.

Hungry Heart - Jennifer Weiner. I've never read one of Weiner's novels, but I loved her memoir, so I'm going to read one or more of her fictional works sometime in 2017.

City of Secrets - Stewart O'Nan. I found this novel about Brand, a refugee from WWII Europe who ends up working for the underground in Israel, very confusing at first. I wish the explanation of the backdrop had been a preface rather than a note at the end. Since O'Nan is one of my favorite authors, I'm going to do a reread. One of my reading goals for 2017 is to finish reading every book Stewart O'Nan has written.

Cooked - Jeff Henderson. My only nonfiction for November was an audiobook which I listened to on the way to and from Tulsa Thanksgiving weekend.  Wow and WOW.  Listening to Jeff Henderson narrate the story of his life -- how he went from drug dealer to prisoner to successful chef -- kept me completely entertained and enthralled for hours. The miles just melted away. My favorite read for the month.

In Which Books Make Me Happy...Well, Happier

Last month's posts were a work of cranky art, but I have a good excuse for my snarly behavior: I came down with a urinary tract infection and colitis all at once. Not elegant at all. No wonder I was having trouble reading. Recovery from the colitis has been a bit slow, hence my silence here. I'm still on a restricted diet. You would not believe the boringness, the blandness. The pickiest of 3-year-olds eat better than this. And coffee! I miss you; I mourn you.

Here's something peculiar: I was reading the new Shirley Jackson biography the weekend I fell ill. Late in the book -- in her life -- Shirley was plagued by colitis. I wasn't sure what it was, so I looked it up. Inflammation of the colon.  A couple of days later, my doctor informed me about what my very icky tests revealed. Colitis. The doctor seemed taken aback by my cheerful reaction:  "Oh! I know what that is!"

Anyway, here's what I've been reading since I last checked in here:

A Curious Man: The Strange & Brilliant Life of Robert "Believe It or Not!" Ripley - Neal Thompson. (biography)  Thompson has worked as a sports journalist, and his punchy prose style is a good match for Robert Ripley, who found his unique niche early on. I was expecting Ripley to be a little weirder and a little darker than he was, given his subject matter. I also liked the thumbnail sketches of the people who populated Ripley's world, his travels around the world, and the perspective of the time in history in which the cartoonist lived, and how that contributed to his popularity. Entertaining.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly - Jean-Dominique Bauby. (memoir)  In his early 40s, Bauby, a successful magazine editor, suddenly suffered a massive stroke that left him with "locked-in syndrome". He was aware of everything around him, but completely paralyzed except for being able to communicate by blinking his left eyelid. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly -- his metaphor for his imprisoned body and his brain -- was dictated painstakingly by Bauby, blinking it out to an assistant. It's grim but also humorous at times. This is a book that is going to stay with me. Read it if you haven't yet. I heard the movie is also devastatingly well-done.

Germinal - Emile Zola. (novel)  I read this book about miners on strike back in 2013, when I was on my quest to read all 20 novels in the Rougon-Macquart series. The translation I read then was an older one by Havelock Ellis, and it was good, but the one I just finished by Roger Pearson! Damn! What a difference! The prose leaps off of the page and grabs the reader by the throat with a hairy, callused hand, just as Zola intended. From now on, I'm reading only the freshest translations of Zola. I must add that I had the exact same experience with my two readings of Nana.

Tampa - Alissa Nutting. (novel)  I stumbled onto this book because Goodreads kept reassuring me that I wanted to read it and would like it. Why? The novel is the story of middle school teacher Celeste Price who is a sexual predator hopelessly attracted to a specific type of young teenaged boy. Nutting tells Celeste's story coolly and fearlessly. It's like Lolita, except with a lot more graphic sex. Really not my type of read at all, but to my surprise, Goodreads was correct: I liked Tampa a lot. Celeste was irresistible, even at her very worst. She was smart and cutting, with tart and accurate observations about society and she was coldly unrepentant about her actions. It must have been difficult for Nutting to get into her character's head so completely. There was also a great deal of black comedy. Part of me is ashamed for enjoying the novel and part of me is pleased that I can still be surprised by how I react to a book.

At the present, I've got two books on the go: Hungry Heart, Jennifer Weiner's memoir, which is gorgeously appealing and readable, and Washington: A Life by Ron Chernow. I know Washington was the father of our country, but as far as biographies go, he's no Alexander Hamilton. Still, I hope to finish this book by the end of 2016. Goodreads helpfully reminded me that there are about 48 days to go.  While I try to make sense of the events of the past week, I predict that I'll be reading more to try and recover a sense of equilibrium.

Six On The Go?

Sometimes, I can't get into a reading groove, and I wander from book to book to book. This is one of those times. Blame it on my swoony malaise...malaise-y swoon? after reading Encounter with an Angry God.  I've fallen and I can't get up; I'm in the middle of six books:

1. Hamilton - Ron Chernow. I'm 33% in after nearly two months, but that will change. I'm listening to the Broadway musical, and the spark has been reignited. I'm eager to jump back in and finish. No quitting this one because I'm not throwing away my shot! I am not throwing away my shot!

2. Villette - Charlotte Bronte. I'm about 21% into this audiobook after a couple of months. Not terribly compelled. This is going to be all about grit and discipline. I want to finish. I want Bronte bragging rights.

3. Triptych - Joyce Cary. This book consists of three short interconnected novels: Herself Surprised, To Be A Pilgrim and The Horse's Mouth. I read two of them nearly 30 years ago, but don't remember much. Right now, I'm in the first few pages of Herself Surprised, and it's pretty sprightly, but I'm having trouble getting back to it.

4. The Fireman - Joe Hill. I'm reading this with Care and a cast of favorite book bloggers as part of the #FiremanAlong. I'm halfway through; the excitement is carrying me along. I guess you could say I'm on fire.

5. Dylan Thomas: A New Life - Andrew Lycett. I've been reading and reading and Dylan is only just 20 years old and seems more like a snot-nosed adolescent than a great poet in the making, but I know he is a fledgling genius, so I'm waiting patiently. I did page through all the photos and skip to the index to see if that anecdote about Shirley Jackson is in there. It is. Hope I haven't spoilered anything.

6. The Gift Horse - Hildegard Knef.  Hildegard Knef was a German film actress who appeared in a couple of American films as Hildegard Neff. This memoir (1970) seems to be about growing up and getting into acting during Hitler's regime. I'm reading a library copy. I am not sure what attracted me to the book; it just beckoned to me during one of my romps in the biography section. Perhaps I first read about it on the Neglected Books blog.

Anyway, six books. Yikes.

What's the most you've had on the go at one time?

June, 2016 Reading

Six books again this month, and only one of them didn't resonate with me. As far as richness in reading goes, I feel amply rewarded for June.

1. Crossing to Safety - Wallace Stegner. (novel) As far as Stegner's novels go, nothing can equal my wild affection for The Big Rock Candy Mountain or Angle of Repose, but this story of the friendship of two couples over three decades is right up there. There are so many mistakes Stegner could have made with this story, but he didn't, and he drops into the novel through his POV narrator to explain this, and it works, it really works.

2. Brooklyn - Colm Toibin. (novel) Eilis can't find anything but crap jobs in Ireland in the 1950s, so her older sister and a priest living in New York who is a family friend arranges for her to emigrate to Brooklyn and study accounting. Along the way, she falls in love with Tony, an Italian plumber. Everything is going well until she receives unexpected news from Ireland. Eilis seems to react passively to everything happening to her, but Colm Toibin has got her POV down perfectly because she is a bookkeeper, an accountant. She takes everything in and tots it up and figures out which column it goes in. Then she acts or reacts. It is a quiet sort of novel, but very honest. When I first read Brooklyn, I thought, "Oh is that all?" but as the days passed, it really sank in for me, and I find myself almost a month later recalling scenes and thinking about the characters.

3. A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy - William B. Irvine. (nonfiction) My life has changed a great deal since early 2015, and I'll be truthful and admit that I haven't enjoyed all the changes. My attitude often needs a kick in the pants. This book appeared to me at exactly the right time. Stoic philosophy flies in the face of nearly everything modern, but I can't think of anyone who wouldn't benefit from a dose. Irvine beautifully explains the roots of stoicism, how the ancients put it into practice and how we can apply it to our lives. Most helpful to me has been negative visualization and managing my worry by performing "triage" on the things I can and cannot control.

4. Never Tell A Lie - Hallie Ephron. (novel) This thriller about a pregnant woman whose husband is suspected in the disappearance of an old school friend of theirs was less than thrilling for me. Everything felt farfetched and soap-opera-ish.

5. Encounter with an Angry God - Carobeth Laird. (memoir) THIS O THIS. Back in the nineteen-tens and early 1920s, Carobeth Laird was married to legendary ethnographer John Peabody Harrington for seven years. Although he was doing brilliant work in the field, studying nearly-extinct Native American languages, he was more than somewhat challenged in the social niceties. Jaw-droppingly challenged. Carobeth put up with a load of crap as his wife and as his assistant in the field. Eventually, she fell in love with one of their language informants, and the narrative changes to a beautiful and tender love story. Even better, Encounter with an Angry God was written from the distant vantage point of a half-century, when Carobeth was in her 70s, which gives it an added richness. It was published in 1975, when she was 80. She wrote it all up in the way she might have filed a report from the field. Gorgeous. This book is unbelievably good. Ever since I finished it, I've had book hangover, in which nothing else I read really suits me. I want to read it over again. I'm a little incoherent because I'm so much in love with Encounter with an Angry God. For a more measured but equally enthusiastic response, read this review at Neglected Books.

6. Vinegar Girl - Anne Tyler. (novel) I like to see Anne Tyler getting out and having a bit of fun. Vinegar Girl is her riff on Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew. Since it is Anne Tyler, the story is set in Baltimore and all the characters are endearingly quirky. Her version can be appreciated by both those who have and haven't read the original play. Good stuff.

May 2016 Reading

 May was a 6-book month. Much to my surprise, most of these are library books!

1. Let the Hurricane Roar - Rose Wilder Lane. (novel) Okay, I've read Laura and I've read Rose and of course Laura/Rose. When it comes to storytelling, Laura wins. Rose's writing feels a touch perfunctory. I imagine her fixated on word count. LTHR feels very light and frothy compared to Laura's look at difficult times early in a marriage, The First Four Years.

2. American Rust - Philipp Meyer. (novel) A gritty tale of two young men who want to make something of their lives and instead get in way over their heads. Meyer's honest, stark writing reminds me of Stewart O'Nan, one of my favorites. Meyer wrote another, longer novel. I think it's called The Lucky Son. I want to read it.

3. The Paris Wife - Paula McLain. (novel) Based on events in the lives of Ernest Hemingway and his first wife, Hadley. I ate this novel up with my English major spoon. I cooed with appreciation when literary giants and even literary medium-sized people popped up. I'd been shying away from this book because I hadn't cared for some other fiction I'd read in this genre (the books about Rose Wilder Lane, Shirley Jackson, and Zelda Fitzgerald). I was wrong to hesitate. The Paris Wife was so well done. McLain has a light touch.

4.  Between You & Me: Confessions of a Comma Queen - Mary Norris. (nonfiction, memoir) I rhapsodized about this book a couple of blog posts ago. I would like to add that I stand with Mary Norris in her support of the serial (Oxford) comma. I have an issue with commas, but I've got that particular rule down and don't appreciate those who would do away with it.

5. Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? - Jeanette Winterson. (memoir) I've always been attracted to adoption stories because along with the writer, I find myself trying to tease out what makes us what we are. Nature? Nurture? Circumstances? Something in us that has nothing to do with parents, or does it have everything to do with parents because it's a trait or tendency that's shown up in a different form in another generation? Jeanette Winterson ponders her extremely strange upbringing by her religious zealot adoptive parents, especially the mother (always referred to as Mrs. Winterson after she threw Jeanette out at 16) but she can't repudiate them because she feels as if she wouldn't have acquired the tools she needed to be successful if she had been kept by her more conventional birth mother, who she finds after a long, maddening, circuitous search. The title comes from Mrs. Winterson's Parthian shot to Jeanette. Now I need to read some of Winterson's fiction.

6. The Cowboy and the Cossack - Clair Huffaker. (novel) This western is sort of an eastern, which makes it rather appealing, although Huffaker relied heavily on  stock types that readers could easily recognize. I can overlook that because the fish-out-of-water aspect is so much fun -- cowboys from Montana do the ultimate cattle drive all the way to Russia and pair up with a band of outlaw Cossacks rebelling against the Tsar. There are wolves and Tartars! So glad my best IRL bookworm buddy, Teri, discovered this obscure little oddity and brought it to my attention.

Not Finishing, But Reading:

Alexander Hamilton - Ron Chernow. (biography) I'm only 25% into this enjoyable, entertaining doorstop of a biography. Hamilton leaps off the page. I understand why Lin-Manuel Miranda was beguiled.

Villette - Charlotte Bronte.  (novel)  Another long read, but I'm audiobooking it and glad I made that choice. The only time it's a little awkward is when Charlotte/Lucy starts rattling off in French for pages. I muddle through listening for the occasional, familiar word, but I long to smack some jaws until English syllables start rolling out again. I'm 18% into this one, and determined to finish Villette. And oui! It's pronounced Vee-ette! I've been saying Vill-ette all these years! Ahem. Anyway.  After that, I'll work on Tenant of Wildfell Hall, then I'll feel good about ignoring the remaining gaps in my Bronte sisters reading.