Thursday, December 30, 2010
1929 - Scarlet Sister Mary
And, yet, even in this, Scarlet Sister Mary fails. Peterkin's depiction of uneducated blacks living in the low country of South Carolina in the early part of the 20th century is hardly believable, given today's understanding. They are the progeny of slaves who stayed where they had lived because they had no choice to go anywhere else. What could they possibly do? They continued living largely as their ancestors had.
Whites are not a factor in the book except as occasional mention that they do exist. This is not a criticism, just an observation. Peterkin's description of the life of these people, particularly that of Sister Mary, really is fiction. She suggests picking cotton is easy, more like a party, and everyone enjoys doing it. The life of Mary, a mother of 10 children with no father in the home, seems almost easy. More like a teenager bouncing through life. Some deep heartache, but even that passes.
There is a reason that Scarlet Sister Mary does not appear on any "best works" lists. An easy read, though.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
1933 The Store
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Mambo Kings Review
As I read the portion of the book that I did read, maybe a little more than 1/2 of it, I enjoyed the pictures it paints of its main characters, their dreams and their daily lives as they struggle to fulfill those dreams. Set in the US at the time when Latin music was in its hey day, the Mambo Kings participate in that scene, even to the point of having an opportunity to meet the great Desi Arnaz. Did this book deserve the Pulitzer Prize? The writing is enchanting and does pull one into the story. But for those who, like me, prefer to avoid that which impelled me to put the book down without finishing it with no pan to try again, I offer this brief review.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Review: To Kill a Mocking Bird
Title: To Kill A Mockingbird Most of us have either read the book, seen the movie, or at least heard of this 1960 modern classic. I remember watching the movie years ago with my mom and listening to her tell me that I just had to read the book - "it's one of the best books out there, Jayme." Well mom, it only took 35 years, but I did finally read it and once again you were right.
The story about how one man stood up against the convictions of a small southern town in the 1930s to do what was right is insight fully told through the eyes of his daughter. Her voice is fresh and distinct and pulls you in from the first sentence. But it's the little nuggets of wisdom through out the book that holds you-
"but before I can live with other folks I've got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn't abide by majority rule is a person's conscience." (page 120, To Kill A Mockingbird
The writing is clever and the topic captures a time in America's history that as painful as it is the story needs to be told. This book is literary art.
My Rating: 5 out of 5
Note: I read the 2010 50th Anniversary edition from Harper Perennial Modern Classics
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Randy -1917- His Family - Ernest Poole
For me, the last chapter made the book. (I'd like to quote some of this chapter, but don't want to be a "spoiler").
Highly recommended.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Ag_in_TX's review of "So Big" (Ferber - 1925)
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Review: The Edge of Sadness

Title: Edge of Sadness
Author: Edwin O'Connor
Published: 1961, Little, Brown and Company
Genre: Religion, Modern Classic
Accolades: 1962 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction
Father Hugh Kennedy has returned to his clerical duties after taking a sabbatical to confront and deal with his alcoholism. But he is not returning to his flourishing, well established parish. He has been assigned to "Old St.Pauls" a decaying church in a derelict part of his hometown. In his search for understanding he is reunited with the Camrody family, a wealthy Irish family he thought he new well growing up, but they have secrets of their own.
Where do I begin writing a review about a book which I think is the best book I've read all year? From the synopsis it seems as if this is a heavy, depressing book. It isn't. The book is narrated by Father Kennedy and it is his reflective account of key past events in his life and how they have impact on the present. There is a lot of narration, so the book moves slowly which is OK because there is so much to stop and ponder in this book. It took me 2 weeks to finish because I would put it down and reflect. O'Connor's writing is powerful and honest, but at the same time it is gentle and spiritual. The writing is so believable that I had to keep reminding myself that this is fiction - not a memoir.
"And there were moments when... I would suddenly become aware of a stillness that was something quite apart from the stillness of the night. It was an interior stillness, a stillness inside me, a stillness in which there was the absence of distraction and unrest. A stillness in which quietly, and without effort, I seemed to come together, to be focused and attentive, to be really present, so to speak, a stillness from which it seemed natural, even inevitable, to reach out, to pray, to adore..." (page 223, The Edge of Sadness)
And then there is the Camrody family. The Camrody family is led by the patriarch Charlie Camrody - a larger than life, rags to riches man whose influence on his family is complete. As Father Kennedy is reunited with this family of his childhood he realizes that what one sees and what one knows can be two completely different things. As truths are revealed the impact on Father Kennedy's self and spirituality are profound. But again this is not a depressing book. The dialogue that O'Connor writes with the Camrody is pitch perfect capturing the essence of each person. Charlie Camrody:
"Did you read about that, Father? Did you read about Charlie Camrody the rent gouger? Oh my, ain't that a terrible thing to be called? By the son of little Georgie, that I knew all my life like a brother. And then the papers get on me and say, "Ain't it awful, Mr. Camrody, when a young feller like that calls a fine man like you names?" (page 322, The Edge of Sadness)
But what I liked most about this book was Father Kennedy. He is not a perfect person, let alone a perfect priest - he's not even a great priest, but he's honest. He's someone who is stuck and doesn't know he's stuck until...
How much do I love this book? Well, the copy that I read I had borrowed from the library, so I ordered my own copy online and this book goes on my "searching for first editions list." That should tell you something.
My Rating: 5 out of 5
Note: I read the 2005 Loyola Press edition.
Friday, July 30, 2010
The Killer Angels - Winner, 1975
The thing I enjoyed most about this book was the detail provided about the lives of each of the individuals whose perspectives Shaara used to tell the story. He showed their human sides and truly made me care about people on both sides of the battle. I especially enjoyed the depiction of Lee, which I felt fit perfectly with the description I am reading in Freeman's biography from 1934. The Killer Angels is a useful read for anyone interested in understanding the complexities of the Civil War as many of these men had fought together in the United States military before the war and cared about each other.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Early Autumn, 1927
Bromfield so wants to write like Wharton. He even mentions her! His humor is blunt where Wharton's is subtle and witty. His characterization is obvious where Wharton lets her characters unfold gracefully. Finally, his word choice is stale. Thanks to the author, I now hate the word "indolent." The adjective is appropriately applied to Bromfield’s writing. Bromfield wrote approximately thirty books. I'm surprised he didn't run out of words at two. His vocabulary was made for non-fiction.
So, I can't recommend this one. It's unremarkable. If I was prone to suspicion, I'd suggest that the 1927 Pulitzer award was reserved for a Columbia University alum. I'm sure that can't be. Interestingly, Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises was also published in 1926.
Wish I could ask Sinclair Lewis his opinion about the criteria for the award. A future topic!
I recommend reading this book with a tall glass and Maker's Mark. It's fitting that the bottle is dipped in wax.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Arrowsmith, 1926 Winner
Along the way he is supported unconditionally by his wife Leora. Leora is considered by those in literature circles ( I assume they gather in circles) as a model of character development. She is also the focus of feminist critiques, and rightly so. She is everything Arrowsmith could ask for, given his character, yet he is never satisfied. He's a child. Does Leora represent his mother, never mentioned in the story, as the taken for granted female figure? Perhaps, if you want to be kind to Lewis.
Arrowsmith is not a good doctor. Nor is he really a gifted scientist. He manages to stumble on discoveries but not due to talent; He spends time doubting himself than he does thinking and puzzling through scientific problems. When he chooses to be, he is sedulous. He perseveres. That is his sole redeeming quality but one he practices only intermittently. Or maybe he has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. When confronted with his deficiencies as a scientist, he mopes, then quits, then drinks, then mopes again, then returns. He is a practitioner of what Thomas Kuhn would call "normal science." Most scientists are. He is portrayed as much more. He is not.
One could imagine a discussion of Arrowsmith as representing all of us. He is a flawed character, no hero, as Lewis writes. But he is more than flawed. We are all flawed but we learn from our mistakes, we grow up. Martin Arrowsmith doesn't learn. He marries a woman yet devotes none of himself to her once married. He marries again and does the same. Why does he continue to want a female companion? At least his colleagues who marry are honest about their need for a woman to assist them in their professional and social climbing activities. Abhorrent yes, but honest. Martin has no such integrity (I know it sounds strange to call the use of women by men in that fashion as integrous but the women are portrayed as opportunist as well. Hmmm, sounds like another topic of a feminist critique--does mutual lack of hypocrisy mitigate otherwise cadish behavior?). In this regard, the story is much more simplistic. Had Lewis wanted to write about science and medicine, he could have done so without the whiney Arrowsmith as the protagonist. Had he wanted to write about a whiney man, he could have done so without the gratuitous Latin terms to define bacteria. Martin Arrowsmith is, as the boys in the film Swingers say about Wayne Gretzky, a whiney bitch. (Great scene of guys playing and old NHL video game.) Most of us are not.
In the end, most people will enjoy the book because it is written masterfully. It is a complete book. A glass of Jim Beam Rye whiskey will aid in the digestion of this book. Along the way Martin Arrowsmith will join you.
There was a film (awful) of the same name made from the book starring Ronald Coleman and Helen Hayes. It was directed by John Ford--say it an't so!-- but it doesn't resemble the book. I consider it unremarkable but only because I respect Ford.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Beloved - Winner, 1988
By: Toni Morrison
Alfred A. Knopf, 1987
Toni Morrison is a name that is often thrown around in literary circles, and, as I had never read anything of hers prior to this, I looked forward to reading (or listening to, which I ended up doing) Beloved to see what the talk was about. The story of Beloved focuses mainly on a runaway slave, Sethe, and her daughter, Denver, as they try to make a life for themselves in Ohio in the years following the Civil War. Though Denver was not born until after her mother's escape, they both spend their lives dealing with the physical and psychological effects of slavery.
Many images brought forth in Morrison's novel are painful to read about, but it is important that we understand, to the extent possible, the horrors and human toll of slavery. Morrison's writing is poetic and full of imagery that is beautiful but hard to understand at times. Because I was listening, there were times that I found myself completely lost. I thought I had missed something and went to Spark Notes online to make sure I knew what was going on. Towards the end of the book, Morrison begins shifting more and more between different perspectives. I think that if I had been reading the book this would have been clearer. What I did love about listening to Beloved is that it was read by Toni Morrison herself. I believe that there are emotions that only an author can put into the reading of his or her own text, and this recording was no exception. I would definitely recommend this book for more mature readers. There are books that have been written throughout history that might not be the most enjoyable to read but are vitally important. Beloved is not my favorite book, but I do believe that, for the sake of understanding our past, it is important.
Monday, July 19, 2010
So Big
The story centers around a woman, Selina DeJong, and her son, "So Big" Dirk. If you read the book, you'll quickly know the reason for the nickname and, in the end, you 'll understand the metaphor. Selina is a strong woman faced with a difficult and unimagined life living on a "truck farm" populated by Dutch immigrants on the outskirts of Chicago at the turn of the 20 century (that's 1800's to 1900s right?). She starts out as a school teacher whose first impression of the fruits of the farmers' labor (cabbage) as a thing of beauty. So she is very different from the parents of the children she will be educating. She becomes a widow and rears her son in a way that she hopes will steer him to the beauty in life, whatever he determines that to be. That's as much plot as I'll disclose because I highly recommend this book and hope you'll give it a chance. For those of you from the Prairie State, you'll appreciate the references to Chicago.
I took many things away from this book. For those who are about to enter a career path (e.g., high schoolers, college students) this book offers a message that you will no doubt hear at your commencement ceremonies. (And if you don't you should!) When choosing your life path, choose the path that fulfills your spirit. Life is hard enough you will work hard enough to not pursue a life that will do more than put vegetables on your table, buy you the next new thing, keep you dapper and stylish, and ensure your place as the one with the largest toy box. It is perhaps easier to do that than to seek out and create beauty. (As Everett Sloan playing the part of Mr. Bernstein in Citizen Kaneputs it, "It's easy to make a lot of money. If all you want is to make a lot of money.")
For those already well down our paths, it is never too late to be part of the creation of beauty. Hard work is it's own reward, true. But hard work towards a larger and deeper purpose is redemptive. Patience with life is portrayed as so much more than a virtue in this book. Here, patience is directed to oneself, rather than others. We might try being patient with ourselves and our toils since they are directed to a full life. Many of our life's loves are not found in the short term. In a society that rewards quick results and virtue in making one's first million before 30, Ferber reminds us that virtuosity is not a goal but a life's journey. Surely a reminder for all ages.
This is an excellent book.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Review: The Road

Laura's Review - Tinkers
Tinkers is about George Crosby's final days. Lying in bed in the front room of his house, surrounded by family, he takes a mental journey through his life, as well as his father's. His thoughts meander in a mostly slow and meditative way. The prose is richly descriptive and even dreamlike in places:
The afternoon became warm, and with the warmth the first bees appeared, and each little bee settled in a yellow cup and took suck like newborn. Howard stopped Prince Edward, even though he was behind in his rounds, and gave the mule a carrot and stepped into the field full of flowers and bees, who seemed not to mind his presence in the least, who seemed, in fact, in their spring thrall, to be unaware of his presence at all. Howard closed his eyes and inhaled. He smelled cold water and cold, intrepid green. Those early flowers smelled like cold water. Their fragrance was not the still perfume of high summer; it was the mineral smell of cold, raw green. (p. 60)
Throughout his adult life, George carefully concealed the scars left by his father's abandonment. On his deathbed it all comes back to him, but he also begins to see that paternal abandonment, while manifested in different forms, goes back at least two generations. At 80, George has broken the cycle. And he has inherited a more positive, useful quality: that of a "tinker." George's father sold goods to country folk and handled all manner of small repairs along the way. George repairs clocks, and his memories are interrupted by excerpts from an 1870s clock repair manual.
I first heard about Tinkers when it won the 2010 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, and I couldn't wait to read it. This type of book is typically right up my street. Unfortunately, I was disappointed. I just couldn't get into the rhythm. Maybe it was my mood. Or perhaps it was because I kept comparing it to two other books I loved, which explore similar themes: Marilynne Robinson's Gilead and Home. Whatever the reason, and despite the beautiful writing, something about Tinkers fell short for me.
My original review can be found here.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Review: Tinkers

Genre: Contemporary Fiction
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Tinkers - Wendy's Review
He tinkered. Tin pots, wrought iron. Solder melted and cupped in a clay dam. Quicksilver patchwork. Occasionally, a pot hammered back flat, the tinkle of tin sibilant, tiny beneath the lid of the boreal forest. Tinkerbird, coppersmith, but mostly a brush and mop drummer. – from Tinkers, page 12 - George Washington Crosby is eight days from death on the opening page of Tinkers - he is hallucinating and remembering, he is pondering his life and the life of his father. George has spent his life fixing clocks – and time plays a crucial role in this novel about fathers and sons, and connections with others. While George lays dying from cancer, he reflects on the small things which have made up his life, including the house he has lovingly built and the intricate details of clock repair.
Read the names etched onto the works: Ezra Bloxham – 1794; Geo. E. Tiggs – 1832; Thos. Flatchbart – 1912. Lift the darkened works from the case. Lower them into ammonia. Lift them out, nose burning, eyes watering, and see them shine and star through your tears. File the teeth. Punch the bushings. Load the spring. Fix the clock. Add your name. – from Tinkers, page 15 -
But Tinkers is not just George’s story…it is the story of three interconnected generations of men: George’s father Howard (an epileptic), and Howard’s father who suffered from dementia. Narrated alternatively between these three points of view, the story is nonlinear.
Howard is a dreamer and a tinker, a man who relishes the beauty of nature and spends whole days picking wildflowers and constructing art from twigs and grass. His seizures come when he least expects them, and eventually tear apart his fragile marriage. George’s memories of Howard are of a father often mysteriously late coming home, and one frightening episode of Howard seizing at Christmas dinner.
Howard’s father is a minister whose slow descent into dementia confuses his son who describes his father as ‘a strange, gentle man.‘ Howard’s loss of his father mirrors George’s loss of Howard.
Harding’s prose is like reading a long, narrative poem. Beautifully constructed sentences and stories within stories characterize Tinkers. Often the story feels like water in a river – rippled, unpredictable, dipping around corners and eddying around obstructions…and so, Harding’s use of water as a symbol in the novella seems appropriate.
The overriding themes of Harding’s Pulitzer Prize winning effort are that of time passing, the dreams of men, and the passage from life to death.
What of miniature boats constructed of birch bark and fallen leaves, launched onto cold water clear as air? How many fleets were pushed out toward the middles of ponds or sent down autumn brooks, holding treasures of acorns, or black feathers, or a puzzled mantis? Let those grassy crafts be listed alongside the iron hulls that cleave the sea, for they are all improvisations built from the daydreams of men, and all will perish, whether from ocean siege or October breeze. - from Tinkers, page 78 -
I enjoyed this slim book whose size belies the depth of the prose. This is a beautiful story which reads more like a meditation than a novel. Full of lyrical phrases, it is not always an easy book to understand, and yet it is a deeply satisfying read.
Readers who are not intimidated by literary novels which use symbolism and metaphor liberally to explore deeper issues, will want to read Tinkers. This is a novel which left me thinking about the characters long after I turned the final page.
Highly recommended.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Laura's Review - Gilead
I'm writing this in part to tell you that if you ever wonder what you've done in your life, and everyone does wonder sooner or later, you have been God's grace to me, a miracle, something more than a miracle. You may not remember me very well at all, and it may seem to you to be no great thing to have been the good child of an old man in a shabby little town you will no doubt leave behind. If only I had the words to tell you. (p. 52)John Ames is a Congregationalist minister living in Gilead, a small Iowa town. Late in life, he was blessed with a wife and son. Now, aware that his heart is failing, he begins writing a long letter to his son, to be read when the son comes of age. Gilead is that letter. In it Ames tells his life story, shares hopes and dreams for his wife and son, and explores matters of faith.
Ames was himself the son of a preacher. Through his writings he tries to come to terms with his strained relationship with his father, now long dead. He mourns his first wife and child, both of whom died too soon, and he rejoices in having found love at an advanced age. But there is one matter that weighs heavily on Ames, and his letter serves as a sort of catharsis.
Ames' best friend is a Presbyterian minister, Robert Boughton. The two have spent years leading Gilead's faithful, and developed a deep and lasting friendship. Boughton had several children; Jack, the black sheep of the family, was named after Ames. When Jack Boughton returns to Gilead after a long absence, Ames must face long-suppressed emotion and conflict, and accept his inability to control events after he has passed on.
This is a magnificent novel. The pace is leisurely and conversational, initially masquerading as an amusing portrait of small-town religious life, full of little details like the bizarre Jello salad concoctions served at church suppers. But Gilead is so much more: it is a celebration of life, love, friendship, fathers, sons, and forgiveness.
Marilynne Robinson followed Gilead with Home, which presents the same story from the Boughton family's perspective. Each book stands on its own, and is beautiful and moving. But the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. The richness and depth of this story become apparent on reading both books. These are not to be missed.
Read my review of Home
My original review can be found here.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Olive Kitteridge - Winner, 2009
By: Elizabeth Strout
Random House, 2008
Olive Kitteridge is a story about life. Strout used a collection of thirteen short stories about the people of coastal Crosby, Maine with one connecting character, Olive Kitteridge, to tie them all together. Sometimes Olive is the main character and sometime she is only mentioned, but in the end the story of her life has been told. I laughed, I cried, I felt annoyed, I felt empathy. It is raw and beautiful.
Because Strout's novel is a compilation of short stories, there is not a true climax of the story, but that fits well. The reader really gets the sense that they are just following through life with these people. Their experiences are mundane, which is okay because there is something in Olive Kitteridge that most people of all ages can relate to. She explores what it is like to be young and what it is like to be old. I will warn that there are parts of this book that deal with situations and contain language that might not be suitable for all ages. That aside, I enjoyed Olive Kitteridge and would be interested to if others felt the same way.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
The Way West
I finally got back to the Pulitzer Project with The Way West, the 1950 fiction winner by A.B. Guthrie, Jr. The novel, which takes place in 1845, features Dick Summers, a mountain-man-turned-farmer who was also a character in the prequel, The Big Sky. Summers reminded me a great deal of Woodrow Call from Lonesome Dove, except a little more gregarious. Strong and silent, Summers is the type of character we've come to demand in a novel about the west.
Summers is asked to lead a wagon train from Missouri (near Independence) to Oregon. His wife has just died of fever and he misses his mountain days, so he agrees. The hardships of the pioneers and their conflicts with one another are detailed, as is the vast country through which they travel.
The captain of the wagon train is actually a guy named Tadlock, who is full of self-importance and one putrid idea (shooting all the dogs on the wagon train, wanting to carry on business as usual instead of tending to a dying man) after another. Not too far down the trail, realization dawns on the other pioneers that Tadlock is ill-equipped to lead and Lije Evans, a likable giant of a man is elected to take over and grows in confidence about his leadership ability as he ably handles several life-and-death situations. He and Dick Summers also have a fine bromance.
I was surprised and delighted with Guthrie's flash of sly humor in the chapter where the all-male council of the wagon train gets together and debates whether it's right to ask the womenfolk to cook with buffalo and cow chips. It's a no-brainer because they're crossing the Great Plains and wood as a fuel source is in scant supply but there's still delicacy and formality amongst these rough and travel-weary pioneers. When one of the council, a man named McBee (who is the forerunner of what would one day be "trailer trash") dares to refer to the substance in question as "shit", the others recoil from him like characters in a Jane Austen novel.
Sometimes Guthrie's prose gets a little purply as he gets caught up in describing the scenery on the way to Oregon, but one can hardly blame him since the pioneers are seeing views they'd never seen before. Another tiny complaint that I have is that some of the characters are briefly introduced and followed then only seen again rarely, in passing. However, there are two sharply drawn minor characters. One is Curtis Mack, a philanderer who seduces then abandons the teenaged Mercy McBee. Mack is a spineless, gutless bastard but he knows he's loathsome and struggles mightily with his shame and guilt. The other is Judith Fairman, whose misery from being pregnant and on the trail increases tenfold to include grief and remorse when her understandably overprotective behavior contributes to her small son's fatal accident. By the way, the son's name is Tod, which is the German word for death. Coincidence or Guthrie serving up some grim humor?
My favorite thing about The Way West is the sun-baked (western version of 'hard-boiled') dialogue. Here's the taciturn Dick Summers talking about getting the wagon train across the treacherous Snake River: "It ain't easy, but it ain't beyond doing. We'll get it done."
The ending of the novel was the prose equivalent of the ending of one of those 1950s Cinemascope westerns with a big rousing triumphant narration of Lije Evans' thoughts as he gets his first gander at Oregon. One can almost hear the orchestra music swelling, blaring out Aaron Copeland and see the huge yellow leathery-looking letters of the end credits rolling. It came off a little forced.
I was expecting to like The Way West more than I did, but in retrospect, it might have been better to read The Big Sky and The Way West together as if the two books were one big story. I'm almost sure that Guthrie won the Pulitzer on the strength of both novels combined.
The Way West was made into a movie in 1967 with Robert Mitchum as Summers, Kirk Douglas as Tadlock, Richard Widmark as Lije Evans and a very young Sally Field (pre-Flying Nun) as Mercy McBee and was directed by Andrew V. MacLaglen who directed Shenandoah (1965) which is one of my all time-favorites. Although The Way West received rather tepid reviews, I'm intrigued by that casting and would like very much to see it for myself.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Lamb in His Bosom - Winner, 1934
By: Caroline Miller
Harper & Brothers, 1933
In her book, Lamb in His Bosom, Caroline Miller portrays the lives of an extended family living in backwoods Georgia in the years
What truly interested me most about this book was the fact that I had also recently finished Gone With the Wind (Pulitzer winner, 1937). Both stories took place in Georgia in overlapping time periods but from opposite viewpoints. I believe that if Scarlett O'Hara lived near the Smiths and Carvers she would have dismissed them - using her term "white trash" - but these families were so much more. We see that, while they don't own plantations or slaves, they work hard and make a good living - even affording small luxuries at times. They know no other way of life and, so, have no other expectations than what comes. It was fascinating to compare the two stories of different classes of Georgians from the same period.
My favorite things to read about, whether it is fiction or non-fiction, are the ways that people live their lives everyday. Lamb in His Bosom provided me with a vivid picture of rural life unlike any I had read before. I wholeheartedly recommend it to all!
The image above is the first edition cover art published by Harper & Brothers.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
House Made of Dawn - 1969
By: N. Scott Momaday
Harper & Row, 1968
N. Scott Momaday's House Made of Dawn provides an interesting look into the struggles Native Americans who come from reservations to find identity. He follows the life of a young man named Abel who has returned to his reservation in New Mexico after fighting in World War II. He has been deeply affected by the war and struggles to hold a job and maintain relationships. Abel moves to California to try to find himself but eventually realizes that he will only find himself back home on the reservation.
Momaday based his story on his life experiences as a Native American and on the real experiences of other Native Americans. I found the book a bit difficult to follow and was not surprised to discover after reading that it was originally intended to be a collection of poems. There were times that the story felt a bit disjointed for me. I do think that he provides an interesting perspective on real issues for the Native American community and would be interested to hear how Native Americans read it today.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Bybee's Results for 2009 and Plans for 2010
They were:
- Lonesome Dove - Larry McMurtry
- The Bridge of San Luis Rey - Thornton Wilder
- Olive Kitteridge - Elizabeth Strout
For some reason, The Bridge of San Luis Rey caught on like crazy among my coworkers. I was surprised but pleased that my copy has been read and enjoyed by several readers.
During 2010, I really want to make some headway on the list. I'm more than halfway through, so this is the time for a little push. I'm eager to read The Way West by A.B. Guthrie, The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, The Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri, and American Pastoral by Philip Roth.
Although I am never NEVER correct, I'd like to go ahead and try to predict the 2010 winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction: The Help by Kathryn Stockett or American Rust by Philipp Meyer.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Laura's 2010 Goals & Progress
Pulitzer Prize Winners Read in 2010 (will post as completed)
2005 - Gilead (Robinson) - review
2010 - Tinkers (Harding) - review
A complete set of my Pulitzer Prize winner reviews can be found here.
Monday, November 30, 2009
J.C.'s Progress - Updated
- 1937 - Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell
- 1961 - To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee
- 1995 - The Stone Diaires by Carol Shields
- 1992 - A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley
- 2000 - Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri
- 2003 - Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides
- 2006 - March by Geraldine Brooks
- 1921 - The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton
- 1923 - One Of Ours by Willa Cather
- 1928 - The Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder
- 1932 - The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck
- 1940 - The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
- 1953 - The Old Man and The Sea by Ernest Hemingway
- 1973 - The Optimist's Daughter by Eudora Welty
- 1976 - Humboldt's Gift by Saul Bellow
- 1981 - A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole
- 1983 - The Color Purple by Alice Walker
- 1985 - Foreign Affairs by Alison Lurie
- 1986 - Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry
- 1988 - Beloved by Toni Morrison
- 1991 - Rabbit at Rest by John Updike
- 1994 - The Shipping News by E Annie Proulx
- 1996 - Independence Day by Richard Ford
- 1998 - American Pastoral by Philip Roth
- 1999 - The Hours by Michael Cunningham
- 2001 - The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon
- 2002 - Empire Falls by Richard Russo
- 2004 - The Known World by Edward Jones
- 2007 - The Road by Cormac McCarthy
- 2008 - The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz
Friday, November 20, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Alice Adams -- 1922 Winner
Grounded in outmoded attitudes about class and distractingly highlighted by outmoded attitudes about race, Alice Adams has not aged well. In his 1922 Pulitzer winner, Booth Tarkington presents a heroine striving to climb the short social ladder of her Midwestern city using only her charms and well-rehearsed mannerisms.
Watching Alice struggle is painful. She has self-awareness sufficient to know she is doing things wrong, but lacks the tools to do them right. And it never seems that the game is worth the candle.
Finally, after watching Alice dither for most of the book, circumstances force her to face reality and make some difficult but intelligent decisions. The book ends on a gloriously hopeful note, which is the most redeeming feature of the story.
Also posted on Rose City Reader.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
All the King's Men - Winner, 1947
Warren creates an interesting story that definitely brought to mind
For this reason I definitely recommend reading the actual printed book. Something else that helped me to follow along generally was the fact that I had watched the Academy award-winning movie adaptation recently. While the movie leaves out multiple story lines and deviates from the plot of the book, seeing the movie helped me to envision what was going on in the book and anticipate the time-jumping. Warren did claim that he did not intend for this book to be a political story, but I feel that it and the movie are both important commentaries on how power can corrupt. If you have a chance, read the book and/or watch the movie.
The image above is Huey P. Long.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Laura's Review - Empire Falls
Richard Russo
483 pages
Miles Roby lives in the small town of Empire Falls, Maine. Once a thriving textile mill town, Empire Falls now suffers from lack of economic development. Miles runs the Empire Grill, a job he has held since leaving college to care for his dying mother. He is separated from his wife Janine, who is about to remarry. Miles and Janine share responsibility for their teenage daughter Tick (a nickname for Christina), who is having a hard time with Janine's new relationship. Miles' elderly father, Max, is a ne'er-do-well who rarely has two pennies to rub together and is always looking to Miles for a handout.
The Empire Grill is actually owned by Francine Whiting, wealthy widow of textile magnate C.B. Whiting. Francine holds a strange power of Miles, having made vague promises that the grill would become his upon her death. And it turns out Mrs. Whiting has exerted power of Miles most of his life. Why would Mrs. Whiting care about Miles? How did their lives become intertwined? As Miles goes about his daily routine, the answers to these questions gradually become clear.
The novel unfolds at a slow pace, with Russo first painting detailed portraits of all the major characters. Then there are occasional chapters in which Miles remembers events from his past. These episodes are retold from Miles' point of view at the time. Memories of a childhood vacation, or of learning to drive, are described with the perspective of a child, who may not always understand the intricacies of adult relationships or of "real life." Yet it's through these episodes that the reader begins to see how and why the Roby and Whiting families have become intertwined.
While Miles' relationship with Mrs. Whiting provides the central tension in the novel, there are several equally rich sub-plots that are explored in similar depth. The residents of Empire Falls have grown up there together; high school friendships and rivalries play out in adulthood. And for Tick, that cycle is only just beginning, as she learns to navigate the sometimes painful paths of adolescent relationships.
Reading Empire Falls, I began to feel as if I knew these people. I found myself thinking about them when I wasn't reading; they were very real to me and will likely linger in my memory for some time. (
My original review can be found here.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Laura's Review - One of Ours
Willa Cather
459 pages
This is the story of Claude Wheeler, a young man who grew up on a Nebraska farm in the early 1900s. Claude is pursuing a university education at a religious college chosen by his parents, but is both unhappy with his education and uncertain about his goals. While he longs for the finer things in life that come from an advanced degree, he also has a strong sense of family loyalty and will interrupt his studies to assist with farm work when necessary. When Claude's father buys a large parcel of land from another farmer, he also decides Claude will return home and assume responsibility for the original family farm. Claude sets aside his higher ambitions and throws himself into farming. He gets married and appears set to spend the rest of his days on the farm, until World War I breaks out and Claude decides to join the American forces in France.
My copy of this book came from my local library and, unfortunately, the book jacket included huge spoilers in its first two sentences. This threatened to ruin the book for me, but I tried to make lemonade from these lemons. Since I already knew about some pivotal events in Claude's life, I read with a view toward understanding why this book won the 1923 Pulitzer Prize. Typical of Cather's work, One of Ours is filled with vivid images of the American prairie, and the first- and second-generation immigrants who worked the land. Frankfort is a conservative community; its people are steeped in their faith and rather isolated from the broader world. As the threat of war loomed large, Claude's "mother had gone up to 'Mahailey’s library,' the attic, to hunt for a map of Europe,—a thing for which Nebraska farmers had never had much need. But that night, on many prairie homesteads, the women, American and foreign-born, were hunting for a map." Cather also shows the dark side of the community when certain members of German descent are charged with "disloyalty" and subject to a hearing in court. Cather's portrayal of wartime France is also very much focused on people, much more than the fighting. It's an interesting angle.
Since One of Ours was published just a few short years after the end of World War I, it was received at a time when emotions were still quite raw. Cather's writing is, as always, superb. And her portrayal of an innocent farm boy who serves in battle would have struck a chord for just about anyone. Unfortunately once I knew how things would turn out there were sections that seemed to drag on endlessly. I probably would have given this book a higher rating had there not been spoilers ... frustrating! (
My original review can be found here.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Gone With The Wind - Winner, 1937
By: Margaret Mitchell
Macmillan, 1936
I don't know what else to say except that I LOVED Gone With the Wind. Earlier this year I purchased a copy for $5 at an antique store and am so glad that I will have it to reread again in the future. As a student of history, Mitchell's descriptions of life in the Deep South before, during and after the Civil War drew me in. So often the victor determines the story of a war, and so I found a long and detailed story from the side of the losers to be quite interesting. The Civil War and Reconstruction were so complicated that it helps to read about them through the lens of a story. I was often so caught up in the story of it all that I would completely forget that I was also learning about an important part of the history of our country from a perspective that I only knew about superficially. Clearly, Gone With the Wind is fiction and much must be taken with a grain of salt, but Margaret Mitchell spent tireless months checking her facts and so it is safe to say that one can at least derive a general sense of what the era was like for those living in and around Atlanta (based on knowledge from the 1930s).
I was a bit unsure when I began reading the book because I did not enjoy the movie. But, as I began to read, I realized that there are so many things in the book that just couldn't have made it into the movie that help the reader understand the characters and their drama much more fully. For example, throughout the book there are many things that go on internally for Scarlett that could not be portrayed in the movie format but made her a fully dimensional character in the book. There are many emotions that are felt and not expressed that I imagine the filmmakers truly struggled with. I do plan on watching the movie again, from my new perspective this time. I do recommend Gone With the Wind - especially to those who have not lived in the South. Regardless of ones opinions of the South and its attitudes during that era, at least one can learn to appreciate the time, place, and culture they were coming from.
[Photo Credit: Vivian Leigh as Scarlett O'Hara]
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
The Fixer: Rose City Reader's review
Based on a true story, The Fixer is the story of a Russian Jew who, in the early 1900s, is unjustly accused of murdering a Christian boy. Bernard Malamud’s 1966 novel won both the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award.
Yakov Bok has a hard luck life as a handyman, or fixer, in the Jewish Pale of Settlement. Although political reforms following the 1905 revolution gave Jews new freedoms and political clout, life in the Pale had not improved. After his childless wife abandons him for a goy, Yakov leaves the shtetl for Kiev, where he ends up working in, and living above, a Christian-owned brick factory. With an assumed name, no papers to allow him to live in that part of the city, and anti-Jewish sentiments on the rise, Yakov is headed for trouble.
When the mutilated body of a neighborhood boy is found stuffed in a cave, the evidence – circumstantial and fabricated – mounts against Yakov. He is arrested and left to rot in prison while the sham investigation drags on for years as anti-Semitic authorities try to build a case of ritual murder. With no indictment, no lawyer, and no idea of what is to come, Yakov’s situation is a downward spiral of gloom.
Yakov is motivated by his dwindling hope of exoneration, only meagerly spurred on by a few rare contacts with the outside and tidbits of news about his case. Although claiming to be non-religious and non-political, Yakov worries that his case will spark violent retribution or even a new pogrom against the Jews.
Malamud incorporates Yakov’s tragedy into the larger picture by having characters discuss Russia’s anti-Semitic history and Tsarist politics. It is this contextual detail that raises Yakov’s story above that of one individual’s tribulations and makes it a morality tale about freedom and responsibility in the face of evil and suffering. One of the characters explains Malmud’s thesis:
I am somewhat of a meliorist. That is to say, I act as an optimist because I find I cannot act at all, as a pessimist. Once often feels helpless in the face of the confusion of these times, such a mass of apparently uncontrollable events and experiences to live through, attempts to understand, and if at all possible, give order to; but one must not withdraw from the task if he has some small thing to offer – he does so at the risk of diminishing his humanity.
Or, as Yakov put it more succinctly as he was finally being taken to his trial, “[T]here’s no such thing as an unpolitical man, especially a Jew.”
Malamud is an incredible writer. Even though this story is horribly grim, he grabs the reader and does not let go. The Fixer is a book that everyone should read and, once read, ponder.
This book was my "double dipper" choice for the Battle of the Prizes Challenge.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Laura's Review - Olive Kitteridge
Elizabeth Strout
270 pages
Elizabeth Strout's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel centers around Olive and Henry Kitteridge, an older couple living in a small town in Maine, grappling with aging and the changes in the world around them. Good friends have died; young people are a mystery. Their son Christopher has married and moved away. The novel is actually a baker's dozen of short stories, each featuring Olive in some way. Sometimes the story is all about Olive; at other times she is but a passing figure seen on the stairs or on a balcony, or a casual observer of another's life story.
Olive is a former middle school math teacher both feared and respected by her students. She's a large woman, grown even more so in her sixties and seventies. She has difficulty showing her emotions, keeping her son's estrangement to herself rather than sharing this grief with friends. She can also be a bit brusque and abrasive. But despite this I couldn't help liking Olive. The stories flow chronologically through Olive's later years. I found a few especially memorable:
- Pharmacy: This is the first story, and introduces Olive and Henry and is also the only story focused primarily on Henry's thoughts and feelings. The reader meets Olive first from Henry's point of view.
- Starving: An amazing story of Harmon, who is in a lifeless marriage with Bonnie and befriends another woman named Daisy. She helps him discover himself, and he takes a significant decision in hopes of happiness, but the story ends a bit unresolved.
- A Different Road: A traumatic incident disrupts Olive and Henry's peaceful lives and has a lasting impact.
- Security: Olive visits her newly-married son after a long time apart. They have difficulty relating to one another as adults and this further strains their relationship.
My original review can be found here.
Monday, July 6, 2009
The Store (1933) - Reviewed by AK
I discovered, after reading a good chunk of the book, that The Store is actually the second book in a trilogy by Stribling about the Vaiden family in the post-Reconstruction South. That in itself explained some of the problem I was having connecting with the characters - they had been developed in a previous volume and, therefore, Stribling felt we could skip the preliminaries that might have given me some sort of attachment. I was just so disappointed because when I started the book I had such high hopes for something different in the Pulitzer winners for fiction. This book was clearly no love story. It addresses issues that were prevalent in the South in the decades after the Civil War. What place did the former slave have in society? Where were ruined plantation owners to turn for employment when they could not function without slaves? How would the South rise up above the ruins after the War and Reconstruction? Who would be their voice in government? These issues are vaguely touched on, but mostly the story focus on things that I found to be insignificant and petty. I also did not enjoy the story enough to be willing to put up with the excessive (though culturally common at the time) use of the "N" word and derogatory comments about freed slaves. I won't rail any longer. I simply did not enjoy this book.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Ag_in_TX's review of "The Killer Angels" (Shaara - 1975)
Simply put, The Killer Angels is one of the best books I’ve ever read. Great books have great characters that you care deeply about, and can you imagine better characters than Lee, Longstreet and Chamberlain?I read this book years ago and it really turned me on to the whole genre of historical fiction. Unfortunately, few authors of this genre can write like Shaara, even his son who wrote the two books that go with this novel to tell the whole Civil War.
As with my other reviews, no book synopsis – just my thoughts.
Gettysburg was a watershed event in American history, if not world history. This is true on many levels, and one example was the way the Army of Northern Virginia chose to prosecute this battle. Pete Longstreet was nothing short of a genius – at least 100 years ahead of his time in how armies ought to fight if they wanted to win. But his ideas flew in the face of the classic ideas of how gentlemen of honor ought to fight, and hence his ideas at Gettysburg were rejected. If lee had listened to Longstreet, the CSA may very well have won that war. And how different would history be if that had occurred?
The telling of Chamberlain’s unit on Little Round Top is the version he remembered later in life. They did repel an Alabama regiment, but whether the “swinging gate” picket charge was really called or whether Chamberlain recalled that later in life is unclear. What is clear is that the 20th Maine performed with distinction that day and deserved all the accolades they have been given by history.
In summary, if you have not read this book yet, you must. It is a tremendous book that opens a window for us to look in on this monumental event in American history.
2005 Prize Winner - Gilead (Marilynne Robinson) - Review by LegalMist
Gilead (Marilynne Robinson, 2005) is written as a letter from an old man, John Ames, a Reverend in a country church, to his young son. The Reverend married a younger woman late in life, and is now afraid he will die before his son matures, so he writes a book-length letter to his son, in a conversational style, talking about current happenings and past events in the history of his family and the town he lives in; his thoughts on life, God, religion, spiritual matters, other people, historical events, and the meaning of things; and about his love for the boy and his mother. The book jumps back and forth between past and present, and can feel a little disjointed at times. This made it seem authentic, in a sense - random stories and thoughts, just as you would write if you were writing a long series of letters, rather than editing a book - but can make it hard to follow if you're not paying close attention.
The book is well-written in the sense that the author describes things with such detail you can really see them there in front of you (and yet the details seem to flow naturally and are beautifully evocative, rather than mind-numbingly thorough). I was entranced by some of the spiritual discussions and by the Reverend's firm insistence that life itself - our human existence on Earth - is a thing of beauty to be treasured despite any difficulties or earthly "ugliness," rather than as a struggle to be endured until we can rush to "heaven" or some other more beautiful / spiritual place after death. This viewpoint certainly differs from that of some other religious leaders and was refreshing in that sense.
I loved the author's beautifully stated observations about American life and religion, human nature, and the beauty of the world. The Reverend's musings and stories are interesting, amusing, and thought-provoking, and the "letter" itself contains enough interesting events and describes interesting persons well enough that you actually get a sense of their character....
but...
maybe it's my fault because when I started out, I tried to read this book an hour at a time while taking my kids to piano class or gymnastics or whatever, sitting and waiting... and with rather constant interruptions, so it was slow going (probably about 15 minutes of actual reading time for each hour I sat with the book). And so I thought the "letter" was ok, but I kept wondering why Reverend Ames seemed to so dislike and distrust his namesake / godson, who is his best friend's son? I kept thinking I missed something along the way, and so I kept turning back the pages and skimming prior chapters, trying to find what I had missed. This led to a very disjointed reading of the book.
Finally, I had to set it aside. I just felt too confused and frustrated by it.
I picked it up again two months later, when I had a chunk of free time, and started from the beginning, determined this time not to miss the critical piece of information about why the Reverend so disliked his godson, and promising myself that if I wasn't enjoying the book this time, I'd just give it up and start a different one.
This time, I read it in a few hours over the course of two relatively distraction-free days and actually liked it. (This seems to be a trend for me with these Pulitzer winners - I don't quite "get it" the first time through - it takes a second reading for me to pick up on the themes and facts that make the book interesting and/or "prize-worthy." Apparently my "English Lit" skills are a little rusty.)
As it turns out, we don't learn why the Reverend so dislikes his godson until very near the end of the book. I wasn't as frustrated this time, though, since I knew I hadn't missed anything, it just wasn't there yet.
I won't spoil the fun stuff by talking about the amusing stories in the book. I will say I found the end touching, and not in a fairy-tale happy ending sort of way (and the following may spoil the end for those of you who haven't read it).
The book explored the biblical and spiritual themes of the prodigal son, God's love despite human sins, redemption, reconciliation, forgiveness, pride, and spiritual growth. The book also deals, at a more mundane / earthly level, with stories of abolitionists and racial tension, recognizing that many religious leaders were also leaders in the abolitionist movement and that the abolitionists were, by necessity, a rather unlawful bunch. For example, the Reverend's grandfather, also a Reverend and an abolitionist, is painted as a very fallible and strong-willed character, a very religious man but with quirks and sins and human fallibility. And the book explores the sometimes strained relationship between fathers and sons - including Reverend Ames's relationship with his father, and his father's relationship with his father (the Reverend's abolitionist grandfather).
These themes are brought together in the character of the young John Ames. We eventually learn that he fathered a child when he was young and left town in shame, after refusing to marry the young mother or to support the child. His father, Reverend Ames's best friend (and a Reverend in a church of a different denomination), loves his son unconditionally in spite of this major human failing, and yearns for his son's return. Reverend Ames, the younger Ames's Godfather, does not understand this unconditional love, despite his attempts to apply his biblical understanding of the story of the prodigal son. He tries to understand, but he just doesn't, which is obvious because he so dislikes the younger John Ames and mistrusts him so thoroughly when he returns to visit his father.
Near the end of the book, the younger John Ames tells the old Reverend Ames that he has a son about the same age as the Reverend's son, and tells him about his desire and efforts to marry the mother of his son whom he loves but has been unable to marry (because in the 1950's interracial marriage was not allowed), and Reverend Ames comes to see the beauty, strength, human frailty, honor, and worthiness of his Godson, and comes to accept him despite his past sins and failures. There is a scene in which Reverend Ames formally blesses his Godson before his Godson leaves (probably never to return), and you can almost feel the years of misunderstanding and mistrust and doubts and frustration falling away, replaced by great love and compassion and understanding.
Meanwhile, the young John Ames's own father, who has always loved him despite his sins (the "prodigal son" theme), never learns of the redeeming qualities the senior Ames discovers near the end of the book. There is a suggestion that, if he knew of his son's struggle to marry the woman he loves despite the racial issues and of his mixed-race grandson, he might in fact be less accepting or loving than he has been - an interesting contrast with the Godfather / Godson relationship, and an interesting comment on the concept of "unconditional love" being doled out disproportionately to those who don't "deserve" it.
I was somewhat disappointed that the story of how the Reverend came to marry his much-younger, ethnic wife was not explored or explained further. I would have liked to have seen the racial themes explored more thoroughly, and also would have liked more insight into these characters. Why was the wife so drawn to the Reverend? Why was the Reverend so drawn to her? (We get a little information about this second question, but not much at all about why she insisted that he marry her). And although the Reverend muses some about his son and tosses in a couple of stories about the child, we never get much of a sense of the kid's personality. Perhaps exploring these areas in more detail would have made the book "too long." But I think it would have made the book more interesting and thus would have been worthwhile. As it is, I felt the description of the relationship between the Reverend and his wife was rather "flat," and I kept thinking the kid would have loved to read more about how his father and mother met and fell in love, instead of reading strange stories of abolitionists and this younger "John Ames" that he may never see again.
All in all, this was not my favorite book ever, although I liked it. I won't be telling all my friends they should rush out and read it. But I won't tell them not to, either. If you have the time to read it over the course of a couple of days so you can keep the events and people straight in your head and not feel as if you're missing something, and if you enjoy rather random musings about God, religion, and life; and character studies; and life-vignettes, then by all means, go for it. If you're looking for an action-adventure story or a romance or even a more thoroughly drawn historical fiction type novel, move along down the bookstore aisles and find something else.
If any of you have read it, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments section.
.
Wallace Stegner
569 pages
What interests me in all these papers is not Susan Burling Ward the novelist and illustrator, and not Oliver Ward the engineer, and not the West they spend their lives in. What really interests me is how two such unlike particles clung together, and under what strains, rolling downhill into their future until they reached the angle of repose where I knew them. That's where the interest is. That's where the meaning will be if I find any. (p. 211)
Lyman Ward is writing a family history. More specifically, it's the story of a marriage between his grandmother (Susan Burling Ward) and grandfather (Oliver Ward) who lived in the American West in the late 1800s. Day after day, Lyman pores over family records, news clippings, and letters, and records his thoughts on cassette tapes. Lyman lives alone, is out of touch with his family, and severely disabled due to a bone disease. He gets around in a wheelchair, and uses only a few rooms of his house. Every evening a neighbor woman stops in to check on Lyman and give him his bath, and they have a nightcap together. The story of Susan and Oliver Ward begins around 1870, when Susan was a budding artist in New York. She moves in artsy social circles, and spends nearly every minute with a very dear friend, Augusta. When Augusta decides to marry Susan sees their relationship beginning to change, and she sets her sights on Oliver, a mining engineer. While they agree to marry, the union is put off for several years while Oliver establishes his career and readies a home for himself and Susan.
When frontier historians theorize about the uprooted, the lawless, the purseless, and the socially cut-off who settled the West, they are not talking about people like my grandmother. So much that was cherished and loved, women like her had to give up; and the more they gave it up, the more they carried it helplessly with them. It was a process like ionization: what was subtracted from one pole was added to the other. (p. 277)
In moving west, Susan sacrificed all she knew and held dear. Accustomed to moving in cultured, literate circles, she initially threw herself into mining camp life with gusto. But she brought her art supplies with her, and continued to draw. Augusta's husband Thomas, now a successful magazine editor, commissioned several pieces and relied on Susan for her interesting portraits of life in the far-off west. Susan also enjoyed evenings by the fire with two of Oliver's colleagues, Frank Sargent and Ian Price. In them she found others who loved literature and stimulating conversation; it fed her soul.
I know that Grandfather was trying to do, by personal initiative and with the financial resources of a small and struggling corporation, what only the immense power of the federal government ultimately proved able to do. That does not mean he was foolish or mistaken. He was premature. His clock was set on pioneer time. He met trains that had not yet arrived, he waited on platforms that hadn't yet been built, beside tracks that might never be laid .... Hope was always out ahead of fact, possibility obscured the outlines of reality. (p. 382)
Oliver was a successful engineer, rewarded for his hard work through promotions and special projects. He was a bit of a dreamer, envisioning possibilities and developing new materials and methods in his own time. He was usually a bit ahead of the curve, with ideas not quite ready for prime time. And while money was often tight, Oliver refused to allow Susan's earnings to be used to support the family. Oliver and Susan had a family, and moved several times for Oliver's work. Their son Ollie (Lyman's father) was often sent to stay with relatives in New York, because the mining camps were deemed unsuitable.
Through his research, Lyman carefully pieces together the story of Oliver and Susan's marriage, reconstructing the series of events which brought their relationship to the "angle of repose" (the angle at which soil settles after being dumped). Susan loved Oliver and had faith in his abilities, but was often disappointed with the actual results. She wanted so badly for her children to grow up refined and "Eastern," and became increasingly frustrated with their living conditions and the people she encountered day-to-day. Susan and Oliver's fortunes, and their hopes for the future, ebb and flow over the years. As Lyman tells Susan and Oliver's story, he tries to come to terms with his own failed marriage and the rapidly changing world around him.
I absolutely loved this book. The prose captured me instantly, and I became completely wrapped up both in Lyman's California of 1970, and the dusty Victorian mining camps. I identified strongly with Susan: her feelings of isolation, her persistence in keeping her artistic talents fresh, her devotion to her family, her longing for intellectual stimulation. And my heart went out to Lyman, with his own isolation and struggles with a failing body. These characters were so real to me; during the week it took me to read this book, I thought about them all the time. Towards the end, I wanted to prolong the relationship -- instead of rushing to finish, I read the last 50 pages very slowly, setting the book aside to make it last. This will undoubtedly make my "Top 10" list for the year. (
My original review can be found here.