And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini

It's been some time since I've posted, not because I haven't been reading - I have. Mysteries and e-books about minimalism and habit formation.  And I've started a couple that I haven't finished.  (One of the resolutions I made a few years ago was to abandon any book that didn't engage me within 50 pages, no matter how great the critical reviews.)  In short, haven't posted because I haven't had much to say.

Then, I read our book club's February selection, And the Mountains Echoed, the third novel by Khaled Hosseini,  author of  The Kite Runner.  Not having read that, and truthfully, not inspired to, I only read this selection out of commitment to the book club and my past experiences of pleasant surprise when I did.  Once again, I've been thankful that I followed through.

And the Mountains Echoed is a treasure, a complex and compassionate story woven by a master storyteller, one of my favorite pieces of fiction from the past few years.  It has a tapestry of themes - loyalty, family, filial love, survival, interconnection, acceptance...woven through the lives of a series of fully fleshed individuals across continents and generations.  (Reminded me a bit of a classic Russian novel where it helped to keep an accounting of the various characters and how they relate to one another, or as I did when a student, to give them nicknames.)

I recommend you check out a variety of reviews of this book.  You will see a wide divergence of opinions and several synopsis of the story line.  For my part, this is what I most enjoyed -

• the lyrical beauty of Hosseini's writing
• the humanity of his characters
• and the intricate relationships between them,
• his sensitive rendering of cultural differences
• his ability to deliver historical, cultural information without preachi
• the intricate, multi-leveled story

And - I'm starting The Kite Runner tonight.

Still Life by Louise Penny

With so many unread books waiting throughout our home and more on my Kindle, I am reluctant to reread even my favorite books.  But my agreement with my siblings for our family book club is that we will read whatever one of us recommends, even if we have already read it.  

When it was my brother Jim's turn to select a book, I was not surprised that he chose Still Life, Louise Penny's introduction to her popular award winning mystery series and a book I had already read. Penny is a favorite author of both of us.  I was a bit concerned that our sister Mary would enjoy it, however, as she rarely reads mystery...not uncommon, though to an avid mystery reader like myself, a concern whenever I recommend one.

My concern was short lived, however, as she enjoyed this charming, literate and ingenious tale as much as Jim and I have.  What did surprise me, pleasantly to be sure, was how much more I enjoyed and appreciated this book the second time around.  Penny's plots are tight and intelligent.  The central murder to be solved in this novel is who killed a beloved elderly woman with an arrow and why.  In itself, not especially intriguing, but Penny develops her plots with care and thought.  No inane red herrings.  No gratuitous sex or violence.  

What makes Perry's novels special, from my viewpoint, are the wonderful, multi-dimensional characters she creates.  And having read the series to date, what struck me this time was how beautifully she foreshadows the strengths and flaws of these characters, strengths and flaws that emerge naturally as the series progresses, as naturally as they do in real life.  Whether it is Chief Inspector Armand Gamache of the Montreal Surete, one of my favorite fictional detectives, or any of the unique supporting cast of characters, they never become caricatures.  Never become predictable.  Never black or white. These are characters who evoke the gamut of emotions from fondness, empathy and concern to frustration, and downright dislike. Characters as interesting, if not more so, as those in most novels on fiction shelves.  Given Penny's writing skills, even the small Canadian town of Three Pines (whose murder rate must be outrageous) acquires such a rich personality that I consider it a character in its own right.

If you are a veteran mystery fan but don't know this series, by all means give it a try.  If you have resisted mystery, thinking it formulaic, predictable, give Still Life a shot.  And, please, let me know what you think.

Leonardo and the Last Supper by Ross King

Were it not our book club selection, I doubt I would have chosen this book and had I not agreed to lead the discussion, I most likely would not have finished it.  Leonardo and the Last Supper is a dense, sometimes laborious read.  Filled with historical, political and cultural information to provide a context for Leonardo's famous painting, this book is not for the reader who reads chiefly for entertainment.  It reads like a series of an art historian's lectures rather than historical narrative (such as the work of Candace Millard, a much easier read).

But if you read to learn, or also read to learn, this book is  worth every one of the 275 small print pages.  King provides a rich tapestry of data about the players - the European monarchs and popes and artists,  and the times - the High Renaissance in Italy - that generated the iconic mural that continues to fascinate after more than 500 years.    He details the reasons the Last Supper took so long to complete and why it is sadly deteriorating.  And he creates a deeper understanding of the charismatic and brilliant genius who would have preferred a career, and fame, as an architect and military engineer. 

 We had a lively book club discussion, as the variety and depth of information allowed for everyone to contribute from a different angle.  Be forewarned that if you prefer to use a reading guide, I couldn't  find one.  Didn't create a problem, however.  All I had to do was ask "What did you learn?" and "What most fascinated you about the book?" and we were off and running.

 At the conclusion of our discussion, I asked, "Would you recommend this book?" and to a person, the response was, "It depends."  I, we'd, recommend this to anyone fascinated by  the period, the artist, the work and/or the controversy around it.  (A caveat - King loves the detail, the names, the dates, the obscure vignettes.  There are pages of footnotes, in themselves an interesting read.) In the final analysis, I can't recall a book I've learned so much from in many years.  If that tweaks your interest, at least check out Leonardo and the Last Supper.

Levels of Life by Julian Barnes

Julian Barnes is one of a handful of authors whose books I order without reading  reviews or even knowing anything about the content of the book..  I have never been disappointed.  Clever writing, a quirky sense of humor, interesting insights into the human condition, challenging questions.  I love the way he writes, but even more, I love the way he thinks - and provokes my thinking.

So when my brother called to suggest Levels of Life, I immediately downloaded it and read it in an afternoon - it's a short read.  This time, I was glad to have a heads up about the structure of the book, divided into three sections that didn't come together until the final section - and the nature of the last section, the powerful, deeply personal and pain-full essay, "The Loss of Depth", in which Barnes shares his five year journey in "the tropic of grief", following the death of his wife from a brain tumor.

This book is not for the faint of heart.  Barnes' pain is palpable, and he is unflinchingly honest - whether he admits to contemplating suicide or describes the reactions of others, some helpful, and others not.  (I winced when I recognized some of my own inadequate, unhelpful responses to loved ones traveling this terrain.) He doesn't seek to reassure or instruct.  No sidebars about research on grief, no details that might evoke sympathy. 

In the Independent from the U.K., the reviewer concluded with this paragraph: " "Every love story is a potential grief story," writes Barnes early on.  Anyone who has loved and lost can't fail to be moved by this devastating book."  I would add that anyone who has been bewildered, uncomfortable or impatient with the grief of another, as I admittedly have, can't fail to be enlightened by this intimate and courageous essay. It may well be that ultimately this latter contribution may be the most significant.


If you want to know more about the book in its entirety,  I found this review to be particularly well done...
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/books/9951130/Julian-Barnes-Levels-of-Life-review.html  

The End of Your Life Book Club by Will Schwalbe

I'm back - haven't blogged, simply because....I haven't.  Have been reading though.   With the heat in Utah, and the hiatus of many activities I otherwise engage in, I've been on a reading marathon these past three months.  Such luxury!

In fact, have read a couple books a week, several short stories, magazines, blogs.  Fiction and non-fiction. Some memorable and some I gave up on after only a few pages.  The best, the highlight of my summer, the work that most engaged me, that most moved me was The End of Your Life Book Club by Will Schwalbe.

My synopsis will be brief - (this book is more than adequately introduced, outlined and reviewed elsewhere).  It is the recounting of the author's last months with his mother as they coped with her treatment for pancreatic cancer and eventual death.  It is a tribute to an incredible woman, their relationship, the informal book club of two that they created, the books they read and discussed and the insights Schwalbe got in the process.

What I want to share here is why this book has touched me so - why, though I read it on my Kindle, I bought a copy to place on the shelf that holds the dozen or so books that have impacted me most over my lifetime.  In no order of importance -

• "Mom" was a phenomenal woman.  Intelligent, courageous, compassionate, committed - she was the founding director of the Women's Commission for Refugee Women and Children, only one of several accomplishments in her life, including the raising of three children.  The kind of woman I would have loved to spend an afternoon with.  Getting to know her through the eyes of a loving son, through her responses to the various books, to get a glimpse of the woman, not just her accomplishments - I particularly enjoyed this aspect of the book.
• Will - well suffice it to say that had I had a son, I would hope he would write, speak of me, remember me with the obvious love and respect that he conveys throughout this book.  It is, indeed, a tribute.
• Being an avid reader, I was enthralled by the literary discursions.  Some of their choices I had already read - The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Olive Kitteridge, Crossing to Safety among others.  And admittedly, I was more than just a bit pleased that I often shared their reactions. Their opinions regarding other books, sometimes very divergent, intrigued me enough that I have already downloaded a couple.  Others, I'll skip, thank you!
• I found the style and the tone of the book to be very accessible.  Having had cancer myself, and caring for my husband during his bout with cancer, I was grateful for the honest, yet circumspect way in which Schwalbe relates both treatment and death - never maudlin, never gratuitous.  Not that I didn't cry - well, truthfully wept.  But I also laughed, out loud belly laughs. 

A final note - after I wiped away the last tear, I called my brother in Wisconsin, the most well-read individual I know, who constantly is calling me to read something he has just completed.  I asked him to read this and tell me what he thought of it.  Which he did - and called me within a couple days to say he loved it, so much so that he had just bought a copy to bring to a high school buddy who had recently lost his mother.  I plunged in, asking if he would consider creating our own book club (no, neither of us is dying, but we are close, value each other's opinions,  and getting on in years).  And held my breath wondering if he would consider my request an obligation.  Not only did he readily agreed, but so has our sister.

To be drawn to think, to feel, to relate, and to take action - doesn't get much better than that for me!



Cadillac Desert by Marc Reisner

I am embarrassed to say I have just read this amazing book..  My husband read it 25 years ago and has continued over the years to sing its praises and to encourage me to read it.  But daunted by its length and thinking I would need an engineering degree to understand it, I kept deflecting his recommendation.  Strange, then, that I should suggest it as a selection for our book club, and stranger yet that I would offer to lead its discussion.  Admittedly, while reading the first chapter I questioned my sanity for doing so.  Within 50 pages or so, however, I was hooked - by the content and by the quality of writing.

Cadillac Desert is the riveting tale of "the American West and Its Disappearing Water." It is also a tale of greed, fraud, duplicity, arrogance, hypocrisy, cronyism, graft, blind ambition, and plunder...to list some of the words that thundered in my mind as I poured through Reisner's expose. It is the story of "rivers diverted and dammed, of political corruption and intrigue, of billion-dollar battles over water rights and ecologic and economic disaster." A course in history and political science.   It is well-documented, compelling, perceptive and even occasionally witty. 

Halfway through the book I found myself doing additional research and came upon a series of videos on the Internet produced before Reisner's death in 2000, capturing interviews with him and with a villain of this saga,  Floyd Dominey, the Commissioner of the Bureau of Reclamation for 10 years.  I downloaded Beyond the Hundredth Meridian by Wallace Stegner, a book Reisner cited and respected. I found myself learning more than I had from any other book I've read in the past 10 years.  I decided that whether anyone else in the book club applauded this selection, I thought it was one of the best and most important selections chosen in the two years I have participated. 

As it turned out, I need not be concerned.  Everyone in our group of 15 found Cadillac Desert valuable, intriguing, an important contribution, a powerful learning experience.  And agreed that he or she would recommend it to anyone who is concerned about the issue of water or the future of the western states in particular.  I'm only sorry I didn't read it sooner.



 

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

I know that Gone Girl has received its share of kudos, even rave reviews.  I've just plowed through 20+ reviews and it's easy to see I'm in a distinct minority of folks who not only didn't like it, but strongly disliked it. 

After the third woman told me that I HAD to read Gone Girl, I succumbed. Well, almost.  Started it three different times, wondering what I was missing.  Finally just jumped to the ending (after all, each woman had emphasized how stunned she was by the ending) and still didn't get it.  Didn't enjoy the writing - felt too studied, too affected.  Disliked the characters - an apathetic wimp married to a narcissistic sociopath...ugh. Was turned off by the style - alternating chapters that illuminate the inner thoughts of characters I wouldn't want to meet, let alone get to know so intimately!  Thinking that made my skin crawl.  A plot that felt contrived - granted I don't know any sociopaths...don't want to either. For me - nothing redeeming.

So rather than go into the content any further (you can find the same reviews), it might  clarify my reaction best if I share that I don't watch Criminal Minds or Law and Order: SVU.   I prefer Elementary or Castle to Hannibal or The Following; and when I'm blue, I search for a classic musical or a Golden Girls rerun. I enjoy the psychological mysteries of PD James or Ruth Rendell; I stopped reading Patricia Cornwall when her plots became darker and darker and doubt I'll try another Gillian Flynn.