tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86517505711028176792024-03-14T06:19:20.754-07:00SHIMMERS IN THE DARKNESSThoughts on writing, living, and living with writing.Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.comBlogger347125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-37307133119737196782024-01-04T11:26:00.000-08:002024-01-04T11:26:10.349-08:00Favorite Reads, 2023<p> You can see that we are already well into 2024, but I wanted to share my favorite reads of 2023. Some are independently published books and we all know those can use all the word-of-mouth possible! My reading numbers have gone down in recent years, as I do so much reading for editing, teaching, and now, publishing! I'm not complaining! I love each of these aspects of my book life. In 2023, I read a total of 32 books for "leisure" - whatever that is. I read twenty-one novels, two novellas, one story collection, four graphic novels, two memoirs, and two collections of essays.</p><p>Here are my top five reads of the year...and three honorable mention choices. Each of these books, in my opinion, is well worthy of your time. If they could capture my attention and heart in this tumultuous and busy year, that should be worth something! And in no particular order, they are:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4yoMfCCkV8tnJ1-YMFV-oDkFRA30y2Ybzw5wubuRA54W5n1WQSf86t21b22PxR_nIWdM7E4ppLWlSR7x1-hm1PNCQioCcPNUsbqNMf3hu3nyHONll6dIkDvUHMHi9pXRUsaqndBwYWWC81IBChmppb9zw9t0s_1K3NPCjusF5-40Q3-_5UiM_TRLJ0rhl" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="667" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4yoMfCCkV8tnJ1-YMFV-oDkFRA30y2Ybzw5wubuRA54W5n1WQSf86t21b22PxR_nIWdM7E4ppLWlSR7x1-hm1PNCQioCcPNUsbqNMf3hu3nyHONll6dIkDvUHMHi9pXRUsaqndBwYWWC81IBChmppb9zw9t0s_1K3NPCjusF5-40Q3-_5UiM_TRLJ0rhl" width="160" /></a></div><br />Here's the publisher's description: <p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif;">"This gripping novel—inspired by true events—tells the interwoven stories of a deformed German infantryman; a lonely British film director; a young, blind museum curator; two Jewish American newlyweds separated by war; and a caretaker at a retirement home for actors in Santa Monica. They move through the same world but fail to perceive their connections until, through seemingly random acts of selflessness, a veil is lifted to reveal the vital parts they have played in one another's lives, and the illusion of their separateness."</span></p><p>I love everything I've ever read by Simon Van Booy, and this was no exception. His style reminds me of some of my very favorite authors - Kent Haruf, Per Petterson - and the way he cuts through to the heart of his characters. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEicGuE4um8uB3ENebVKndzHCvaHqe82ne8-wCZG_399cpYL3EA6f8-Ofzbckkn0OKyggrZQEpTrjl4HsRvjpJJOmbTxj5t9oZKPsHlXchDgO3KMlcFhsFhi-ksJaGnYI7IfcjjrdCKbUkIGslaG6N1SOewxAnbd1e4ABjgJjukjYEqEsrLknoKjNa896jAP" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEicGuE4um8uB3ENebVKndzHCvaHqe82ne8-wCZG_399cpYL3EA6f8-Ofzbckkn0OKyggrZQEpTrjl4HsRvjpJJOmbTxj5t9oZKPsHlXchDgO3KMlcFhsFhi-ksJaGnYI7IfcjjrdCKbUkIGslaG6N1SOewxAnbd1e4ABjgJjukjYEqEsrLknoKjNa896jAP" width="240" /></a></div><p><br /></p>A classic, for good reason, and probably the book I recommended most this year. A six-year-old girl and her grandmother spend a summer on an island in the gulf of Finland. This slim moment is full of small, tangible moments and big truths, of longing and love, of the complicated tangle of relationships and life itself. If you only listen to me about one book on this list, make it this one (and check out the author's other writing as well).<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg952GPKVYC52HsM-ATYVNU-JvFJtfRzuCPQgX2xB7CKSKfQK5wRA0kUrCMg-kl-QSrKn22gsMPw1ErFLQ1pJAF9kA9i5qFwzLxYHPsTdnsNFJRFpJRazwIAI6PIkjtPLmrL63_9g-H5KdjAyDAdM-GGW5B_yZ7PTI2A5PZwVc-k-rz9OuzmjF8RTSfWpHA" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg952GPKVYC52HsM-ATYVNU-JvFJtfRzuCPQgX2xB7CKSKfQK5wRA0kUrCMg-kl-QSrKn22gsMPw1ErFLQ1pJAF9kA9i5qFwzLxYHPsTdnsNFJRFpJRazwIAI6PIkjtPLmrL63_9g-H5KdjAyDAdM-GGW5B_yZ7PTI2A5PZwVc-k-rz9OuzmjF8RTSfWpHA" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="638" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg952GPKVYC52HsM-ATYVNU-JvFJtfRzuCPQgX2xB7CKSKfQK5wRA0kUrCMg-kl-QSrKn22gsMPw1ErFLQ1pJAF9kA9i5qFwzLxYHPsTdnsNFJRFpJRazwIAI6PIkjtPLmrL63_9g-H5KdjAyDAdM-GGW5B_yZ7PTI2A5PZwVc-k-rz9OuzmjF8RTSfWpHA" width="153" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>A reviewer said <span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif;">“Beautifully written and satisfyingly creepy, this is one of the most poignant and original ghost stories I've ever read.”</span><p></p><div>I agree! This book will surprise you, enthrall you, and keep you thinking long after you set it down. It's about family and time and memory, and the relationships that define us. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm thrilled that I'll have a chance to hear the author talk about the story in person this year.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9wIEM8ZizQ8BSsOgM7Z1mfxX1K2_BA_kxm31nUcMdhVcEAhxYqYv67JyFkpaNE4ldjH38dnnkfnHIfO6GsVKgnkqG-7z3EXyu9ow0PrjQit2kFDE2W-Qqm7vQXRxlmTCD3nQv8JBJiWPreY4tgJxmrIRz-T_qXrJhRDtPbl7SnfJyp5DskhApQ_VIZpmL" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="324" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9wIEM8ZizQ8BSsOgM7Z1mfxX1K2_BA_kxm31nUcMdhVcEAhxYqYv67JyFkpaNE4ldjH38dnnkfnHIfO6GsVKgnkqG-7z3EXyu9ow0PrjQit2kFDE2W-Qqm7vQXRxlmTCD3nQv8JBJiWPreY4tgJxmrIRz-T_qXrJhRDtPbl7SnfJyp5DskhApQ_VIZpmL" width="156" /></a></div>Full disclosure: this author has a young adult fantasy book coming out with Type Eighteen Books this April, and she kindly sent me this copy of her earlier book. Elizabeth has done and continues to do many amazing things, but at some point, she was a shepherd, and the local "Ask a Shepherd" on a CBC radio show. This is a collection of her letters for the show, and I found it compulsively readable, endlessly fascinating, and representative of her particular charming and intelligent writing - which is why we took on her new book in the first place. I loved this unique read.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQW7b6tI34ZfeHhzn44B7lsw0nPfoAQpHC7rEWi72Te2VzCtg8uNw7gEacfbvog9HQMZ5bs--3l6sEu22O3KffgqwuF6SwnmqL5P0FqkmLpG2-T2-pb6M30ID0_YY7Ddk4mvkIzZHEl_Deg0LidHHOdxdFwU-z7mRCZIadFAK_SybQR-1uR-9mvfcYqFaN" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="623" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQW7b6tI34ZfeHhzn44B7lsw0nPfoAQpHC7rEWi72Te2VzCtg8uNw7gEacfbvog9HQMZ5bs--3l6sEu22O3KffgqwuF6SwnmqL5P0FqkmLpG2-T2-pb6M30ID0_YY7Ddk4mvkIzZHEl_Deg0LidHHOdxdFwU-z7mRCZIadFAK_SybQR-1uR-9mvfcYqFaN" width="150" /></a></div><br />This book was the last in my Summer of Summer reading project...and now I'm realizing I never wrote a post about it. I loved it! An eerie and immersive read about a relationship that begins over the course of a summer and goes through a series of changes and transformations, as relationships do. I loved the POV of this novel, an unreliable character who is simultaneously exasperating and completely relatable. Once in, I had a hard time putting this book down.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And now the honorable mentions:</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiMUBGrd9O43HkeZjM5oxRRmWGHWYmI_JhN0xhLCYn_hlElwpnKxF73DBfHLW5W_5jVH6LQFJ4WCldkAzIJVlpG6HrYTXNJrtbMAvv5mcpzL0d4KldFzFBJ0vssJQgx5-S8AZVBW0iY8WUDqCflauO5ju69ljDlTXnIboPDNTkQEEUprzKSWg-j1j1xQ_UW" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="776" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiMUBGrd9O43HkeZjM5oxRRmWGHWYmI_JhN0xhLCYn_hlElwpnKxF73DBfHLW5W_5jVH6LQFJ4WCldkAzIJVlpG6HrYTXNJrtbMAvv5mcpzL0d4KldFzFBJ0vssJQgx5-S8AZVBW0iY8WUDqCflauO5ju69ljDlTXnIboPDNTkQEEUprzKSWg-j1j1xQ_UW" width="155" /></a></div></div><div>Another slow cooker book. This one takes place in the late 1960s, in the English countryside where an awkward single woman eavesdrops on the interesting couple residing below her. The publisher calls it "<span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif;">a seductive psychological portrait, a keyhole into the dangers of longing and how far a woman might go to escape her past."</span></div></div><div><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: Amazon Ember, Arial, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: Amazon Ember, Arial, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; margin: -4px 0px 14px; padding: 0px;">Like a couple of my other choices this year, this book surprised me with its approach and twists. Recommend!</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; margin: -4px 0px 14px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; margin: -4px 0px 14px; padding: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhcU2xDK9sDtVoRMs3g-X0idacwV67Arq22z4TShJayZe60qYhSf4eASpRUvwCxv6JWT7lp3Uci3gfKzlH8SDhyIEYnRtqeCb-zFK71Keh1oRDTxSYspzznIW_MLugkGh0y7j3qxqb9aRb2o2M9bz6epVYqc8ZdHRNY05SA_b__qO5UJwiOXo0di81itpvr" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1268" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhcU2xDK9sDtVoRMs3g-X0idacwV67Arq22z4TShJayZe60qYhSf4eASpRUvwCxv6JWT7lp3Uci3gfKzlH8SDhyIEYnRtqeCb-zFK71Keh1oRDTxSYspzznIW_MLugkGh0y7j3qxqb9aRb2o2M9bz6epVYqc8ZdHRNY05SA_b__qO5UJwiOXo0di81itpvr" width="152" /></a></div><br />A story collection from the same publisher as <i>Magdalena - </i>they're doing something right! The writing in this collection is gorgeous, and the settings and range of characters are fresh and surprising (I guess I wanted to be surprised this year?!?). And like most writing I like, the characters are relatable and leave me with emotional or intellectual takeaways. I must read more short stories in 2024!<p></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; margin: -4px 0px 14px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; margin: -4px 0px 14px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6JEhJLfxJ5YbYF82a1BddtpLMN4xsihF4CYwj0Ixk7_5b43BK45FaaYeO3VxcMAk2-dG0UwCpY3jSoARxtu2VlIPNVQ7gKQ60YBAlMQe96gHCcoEvWVmrom7-UNo4NX0tFCtfJHjrRc3j_enokU_JBvCgjGYg0kgeaiLsTR9UJe7shPfPhNGJUlFqm_jO" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="543" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6JEhJLfxJ5YbYF82a1BddtpLMN4xsihF4CYwj0Ixk7_5b43BK45FaaYeO3VxcMAk2-dG0UwCpY3jSoARxtu2VlIPNVQ7gKQ60YBAlMQe96gHCcoEvWVmrom7-UNo4NX0tFCtfJHjrRc3j_enokU_JBvCgjGYg0kgeaiLsTR9UJe7shPfPhNGJUlFqm_jO" width="155" /></a></div><br />I loved this story written by a daughter about her mother's life. From the publisher: <p></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; margin: -4px 0px 14px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">"The story of a woman whose life spanned a century of tumult and change. In many ways Nance’s story echoes that of many mothers and grandmothers, for whom the spectacular shifts of the twentieth century offered a path to new freedoms and choices. In other ways Nance was exceptional. In an era when women were expected to have no ambitions beyond the domestic, she ran successful businesses as a registered pharmacist, laid the bricks for the family home, and discovered her husband’s secret life as a revolutionary."</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; margin: -4px 0px 14px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: AvenirNextLTW01-Regular, "Avenir Next", Avenir, sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; margin: -4px 0px 14px; padding: 0px;">This is a brief, perhaps not formatted expertly post, but I did want to share my favorite books of 2023. And I do pay attention to your Best Of posts, too, and usually add many of your choices to my list. Happy reading in the new year, everyone!</p></div>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-67800276182817711112023-08-20T10:22:00.000-07:002023-08-20T10:22:29.385-07:00The Summer of Summer: Flights<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZOCR1joVbL44WBKb0Qj9_e8VVpDgKRmwKJLhgDWEvE_0f5pRSVOdUxfFYa7Twy2SOIFZJQjmg-vlV_t7Sien_8mRsCY-HlKyacFfWqRtqk6KDm5ROS9_wPRX5QhEYebJkXNOGVXKavHFEtM1kKZOhLZnu6Nf0YV3q7aHD2f1Grzoy6oZ4ombXw2D4PVVC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1249" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZOCR1joVbL44WBKb0Qj9_e8VVpDgKRmwKJLhgDWEvE_0f5pRSVOdUxfFYa7Twy2SOIFZJQjmg-vlV_t7Sien_8mRsCY-HlKyacFfWqRtqk6KDm5ROS9_wPRX5QhEYebJkXNOGVXKavHFEtM1kKZOhLZnu6Nf0YV3q7aHD2f1Grzoy6oZ4ombXw2D4PVVC=w205-h320" width="205" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">This might sound trite, or too on-the-nose, but reading
<i>Flights</i>, Olga Tokarczuk’s unique book about many things under the umbrella of “travel”
is like taking a journey. The best kind of travel journey, where you meander
down one road to discover something that wasn’t in any of the guidebooks or
maps. I’m not even sure how to describe this read, this wholly original book.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">At times, it reminded me of another book with a big impact
on me: <i>Outline</i> by Rachel Cusk. In that book, our narrator never
introduces herself in a traditional way, and we learn about her as she moves through
the world and interacts with others—thus, an outline of the person she is
emerges. In <i>Flights</i>, Tokarczuk introduces herself from the start. She
relays some of her earliest memories and talks about her parents’ methods of travel
and therefore, her childhood exposure to the concept. After her parents spent
time at a campsite or abroad, like most of us, they’d return home to jobs and
bills and a worn path in the carpet of their flat. But the author claims her
divergent path:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: verdana;">“That life is not for me. Clearly I did not inherit whatever
gene it is that makes it so that when you linger in a place you start to put
down roots. I’ve tried, a number of times, but my roots have always been
shallow; the littlest breeze could always blow me right over…My energy derives
from movement—from the shuddering of buses, the rumble of planes, trains’ and
ferries’ rocking.”</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And then, unlike Cusk’s traditionally undefined narrator,
Tokarczuk gives a full run-down of herself:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: verdana;">“I have a practical build. I’m petite, compact. My stomach
is tight, small, undemanding. My lungs and my shoulders are strong. I’m not on
any prescriptions–not even the pill—and I don’t wear glasses.”</span></blockquote><span style="font-family: verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Etc., until the focus narrows.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: verdana;">“My abdominal aorta is normal. My bladder works. Hermoglobin
12.7. Leukocytes 4.5. Hematocrit 41.6. Platelets 228.” </span></blockquote><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And more!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Why? Again, it’s hard to describe this book, which meanders
down so many paths having to do with travel and permanence, moving and staying,
life and death. There are stories heard during travel, stories about people met
and places visited. There are conversations relayed from life on the road: on plane
trips, in foreign cafes and bars, discussions had while waiting to go someplace
else. And the book returns many times to meditations about the human body and
everything it means to have one, as our physical forms fortify us, change, and
die, as we move through time and space trying to find meaning in our relation to
what lies beyond us.</span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Have you ever gotten into to your car to drive a familiar
route and sort of blank out at some point, not remembering the specifics of how
you progressed to your current location? Reading <i>Flights</i> reminded me of
that. At some point, I would pause and think “Huh. Now I’m reading about a slave
whose body was preserved against his family’s wishes,” or “Now I’m following the
travels of Peter I, tsar of the Russian Empire.” What all the meandering paths have
in common is always some consideration of travel, or the body, or both. <i>Flights</i>
is unlike anything I’ve read, with this tight focus on the topic while at the
same time, feeling that it’s going in every direction at once. You might be
thinking that it sounds like a frustrating or challenging read, and I will say
that maybe early on, I felt that way, as I wet my feet. But once you’re in, you’re
in, and the stories and segments wash over you easily, as if you’ve been the
passenger all along. The structure of the book itself, with its short sections
and asides, its starts and stops and recurring segments and themes, makes it
the perfect book to take on a journey, short or long. I believe the more I
think about this book, the more it will resonate. And it definitely made me
want to plan a trip.</span><o:p></o:p></p>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-78557886589772036902023-07-26T06:00:00.009-07:002023-07-26T06:00:00.152-07:00The Summer of Summer: The Natural<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpNLzLW65uV5_FoeDbr_BX0UyQ5hjFyhNSJq5v-pQXioXqSX0A0NpYCbnoYDUdZbaU76fTnGMpMFIfWe7PwAqT2aj8s5j1BRoQGAhM2Y5il3s2vGjGJJg9t_yc9VfxKPWyqbOs_rq3zW054atbPf2Tt36to4zgsABiHaLsFMUDdwVV23qL5xOdrW8VynFV" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpNLzLW65uV5_FoeDbr_BX0UyQ5hjFyhNSJq5v-pQXioXqSX0A0NpYCbnoYDUdZbaU76fTnGMpMFIfWe7PwAqT2aj8s5j1BRoQGAhM2Y5il3s2vGjGJJg9t_yc9VfxKPWyqbOs_rq3zW054atbPf2Tt36to4zgsABiHaLsFMUDdwVV23qL5xOdrW8VynFV=w213-h320" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I didn’t know much about <i>The Natural</i>, except that it
was a movie I hadn’t seen starring Robert Redford, and that some consider the
book, written by Bernard Malamud and published in 1952, the quintessential,
literary baseball novel. And baseball is a summer game (in theory, although it
runs from April into October, if you’re lucky); choosing this book for my
Summer of Summer seemed like an easy choice. I even got my son to read along
with me on vacation.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I was expecting a hero’s journey type of book, the story of
a scrappy slugger and his rise in the leagues (again, with the image of Redford
in mind). Certainly, those elements are there. The book opens with Roy Hobbs, a
nineteen-year-old pitcher on his way to try out for the Chicago Cubs. We know
his talents are considerable when the train stops at a carnival and he strikes
out “the Whammer,” a top hitter in the game. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">But this hero’s journey has its trials, as they do, and Roy
is a tragic character more than anything else. Without giving away any of the
plot’s surprising twists, I will tell you that often, Roy’s challenges come
wrapped in a female package. Sidenote: the women in this story have great
names: Harriet Bird, Memo Paris, Iris Lemon. In fact, everyone has great names,
from the beleaguered manager of the New York Knights, Pop Fisher, to the journalist
trailing Roy for a scoop, Max Mercy, to the star player and Roy’s nemesis, Bump
Baily.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">You can get a feel for the tone of this book, written in the
fifties, by these names. In this world, the men call each other “bub”
and “kiddo” and “son,” and the women say things like “How droll!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">But did I like it? I appreciated the atmosphere, dialect,
and winding plot, and once I got a feel for the tragic element, I appreciated
the character of Roy on a symbolic level. He’s a striver, a uniquely
American character in his quest for fame and greatness—spurned on by an unhappy
childhood and a string of bad luck. He’s a man of appetites that cause, in many
ways, his demise. And in the way of tragedies, often we readers see
what’s coming down the track before the character can; many times, I wished Roy
would wise up, act better, do right.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I also liked some of the exaggerated elements of the book—such
as when Roy literally hits a ball so hard that the cowhide falls off—these bits
felt almost apocryphal and compounded that feel of heroism and the way we raise
our sports competitors to mythic levels.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">When I finished the book, I started to imagine how
they took this story and filmed it, and now that I’ve watched the trailer, it
would seem they made it into what I imagined the story to be before I picked it
up—a story of a slugger making his way to the top. We’ll see. I’m planning to
watch the full movie soon. <o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Next up for my Summer of Summer is quite a shift, the 2007 “fragmentary
novel” by the Polish author Olga Tokarczuk, <i>Flights</i>. Let me know what
you’re reading, or if you try any on my summer list!<span style="background: white; color: #4d5156; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-9627892935017872362023-07-23T22:15:00.000-07:002023-07-23T22:15:47.544-07:00The Summer of Summer: Seating Arrangements<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8LXPfGHd2zjJTyaPk5ce24hszQfUmtDxK7vayX_3TmUYMMbLMudhdHOgVvoqv_WKGTXBYrjY9TzhN1F7zt7yZF5h-AMo2_9n52O_5zKiAuTW8NPRNYKERBNQf9Jz2fdiqZJhFF9Zkq7Owc5juLfiCIue2XYVXj6nAfuHskfF0eJ_KzKmTUCXE_Ev9-FS/s500/sa1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="320" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8LXPfGHd2zjJTyaPk5ce24hszQfUmtDxK7vayX_3TmUYMMbLMudhdHOgVvoqv_WKGTXBYrjY9TzhN1F7zt7yZF5h-AMo2_9n52O_5zKiAuTW8NPRNYKERBNQf9Jz2fdiqZJhFF9Zkq7Owc5juLfiCIue2XYVXj6nAfuHskfF0eJ_KzKmTUCXE_Ev9-FS/s320/sa1.jpg" width="205" /></a></div><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">My second read for the Summer of Summer reading project is <i>Seating
Arrangements</i> by Maggie Shipstead. In this story, the Van Meters have
gathered for the marriage of their eldest daughter, Daphne, who is well bred
and educated and nevertheless, seven months pregnant for her nuptials. This
irks the father especially. Winn Van Meter was raised with certain ideas about
class, gender, and appearances. He’s never moved beyond the identity he earned when
he joined an exclusive Harvard club, and ramifications and associations from
those days continue in his life, thirty-plus years later. As they do. The
family has gathered at Waskeke, an island where rich families have summered for
generations, and Winn’s ongoing, current obsession is his pending application
to the elite golf club there.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<p class="MsoNormal">It may seem from my initial notes that the novel is about
Winn, and it certainly focuses on his thoughts more than others, but the story
moves from character to character, giving glimpses into the perspectives of several. I have
to admit, for many pages, I didn’t like anyone much. These are people who
remember what they spent on oysters for their first wedding, and when young children
are caught playing dress up with their mother’s jewelry, they say “This is
nothing. The good stuff’s in the safe.” And then I caught myself wondering why
I was feeling a bias against these characters for their lifestyle—fiction is about
relating to people unlike ourselves, isn’t it? And I was thinking, too, about
what I felt were the horrific “jokes” about the wealthy explorers who perished
trying to see the Titanic wreck. Why is antipathy—or, at least, a lack of empathy—against
the rich acceptable? Shouldn’t be. Their concerns and issues are still human.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Still. Another aspect of the novel is the sexuality that
simmers from the first pages. Winn, you see, is harboring a painful attraction
for one of his daughter’s friends, and he has since she was young. Overall, I
found Winn tiresome, with his continual fussing to keep things in place at the
house, his obsession with the golf club and why they won’t let him in, and his
awkward lusting after the young woman. There are additional affairs,
relationships, and thwarted romances to deal with amongst the wedding guests.
The other Van Meter daughter, Livia, has recently been dumped by the son of
Winn’s nemesis—the man he thinks is keeping him out of the club. As the wedding
party frolics and drinks, and drinks some more, there are sexual misadventures
but also mishaps with the lobster intended for the rehearsal dinner and with a
wayward golf cart. Also, a dead whale has beached nearby. I did enjoy some of
the ironies of the book and how they played out. Such as the fact that Winn was
a “ladies’ man” in his day and now has to deal with two daughters and their forays
into the sexual world, and the outing Livia (an aspiring marine biologist)
makes to view the whale.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And I will tell you that at some point, it started to come
together for me, this darkly funny, orchestral novel. I don’t want to spoil
anything else in the plot, but I will say that the book left me contemplating
privilege and class, money and expectations, gender conditioning, and sexuality
as it relates to power dynamics, and the way Shipstead brought all of the
simmering tensions to a satisfactory, touching, and entirely realistic finale
was truly inspiring. Do I recommend this book? To a certain, patient reader,
yes. To those who like to relate to a character(s) from the start, maybe not.
But it definitely has something to say about wealth (and many other things) and
in its own way, <i>Seating Arrangements</i> is a richly American story, I
think. And a good summer read.<o:p></o:p></p></div><br /><br /></div><p><br /></p>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-16461957960658202872023-06-21T08:02:00.000-07:002023-06-21T08:02:26.597-07:00The Summer of Summer: The Summer Book<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGBfpog3lyhwqEz4hbBZW9jrj0EgHUo_6yx4i03Sxgp-zY8Gzuzb3pzj_iSRR05C6b-yfSxaenOvQ_qtQbV7ceUBMmplpRdFZJraNvHwfyzmihw_1fUcisi8xZwhkFV58OIVP9LPk1vYxLNXO_OaYiy7Iuz8fITik6XcS8jYWbeJJy-QWs53Ceenk7fJ6o" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="312" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGBfpog3lyhwqEz4hbBZW9jrj0EgHUo_6yx4i03Sxgp-zY8Gzuzb3pzj_iSRR05C6b-yfSxaenOvQ_qtQbV7ceUBMmplpRdFZJraNvHwfyzmihw_1fUcisi8xZwhkFV58OIVP9LPk1vYxLNXO_OaYiy7Iuz8fITik6XcS8jYWbeJJy-QWs53Ceenk7fJ6o=w200-h320" width="200" /></a></div>The back cover copy on this 1975 novel claims that it "distills the essence of the summer - it's sunlight and storms - into twenty-two crystalline vignettes." And that it does. <i>The Summer Book</i> by Tove Jansson centers on two characters - six-year-old Sophia, who has recently lost her mother and is navigating the loss and change that entails, and her grandmother, a headstrong expert of living on the rugged and mutable island where they spend their summers.<p></p><p>It's a book you'll want to read slowly - for me, a rare, five-star read. There are so many wisdoms, so many glimpses of human nature to contemplate, so many twists and dialogue that rings with the deepest truth. If there's a third, noticeable character in the book, it's probably Nature. The island consists of rocky coastline and the forested interior, and the weather can cause drought or near-swamp conditions. Sophia and her grandmother are in constant contact with their environment - exploring, playing, noticing, building. Both are angry about certain things. The grandmother, near the end of her life, resents the loss of some of her autonomy. Sophia is angry about things she's unable to voice in her young age. Of this novel, a friend of mine said that the grandmother is the best untrained psychologist she's seen. And certainly, there's a nurturing wisdom in the way she handles Sophia's meltdowns, questions, and sometimes, personal attacks.</p><p>Written in deceptively simple prose, this novel encompasses depths and depths. Each story lingers, as layers of meaning continue to rise to the surface long after reading. I could choose from many excerpts in this wonderful novel, but here's one.</p><p></p><blockquote><p>The sun came up. The fog glowed for an instant and then simply vanished. Out on a flat rock in the water lay a scolder. It was wet and dead and looked like a wrung-out plastic bag. Sophia declared that it was an old crow, but Grandmother didn't believe her.</p><p>"But it's spring!" Sophia said. "They don't die now; they're brand new and just married - that's what you said!"</p><p>"Well," Grandmother said, "it did die now, all the same."</p><p>"How did it die?" Sophia yelled. She was very angry.</p><p>"Of unrequited love," her grandmother explained. "He sang and scolded all night for his scolder hen and then along came another and stole her away, so he put his head under the water and floated away."</p><p>"That's not true," Sophia screamed. She started to cry. "Long-tails can't drown. Tell it right!"</p><p>So Grandmother told her he had simply hit his head on a rock. He was singing and scolding so hard that he didn't look where he was going, and so it just happened, right when he was happier than he'd ever been before.</p></blockquote><p></p><blockquote><p>"That's better," Sophia said. "Shall we bury him?"</p><p>"It's not necessary," Grandmother said. "The tide will come in and he'll bury himself. Seabirds are supposed to be buried at sea, like sailors." </p><p></p></blockquote><p>I highly recommend this wonderful book for your summer pile. Next up in my summer reading project, Maggie Shipstead's <i>Seating Arrangements</i>.</p>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-25343864869166116172023-06-10T13:22:00.001-07:002023-06-10T13:22:32.807-07:00Summer Reading Project 2023<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qmkV3Ui36Dd3bKuIEEJsNocMi_YACLnuFomjq-5n-OaXvRJOv1qmpZOyfJoKGGqEs8SPPOzdi9WKtDck7fSO3k7jBLKhq03A6TkzVQEPshQnLKTnQE-tgqVtCXyVPAhpCgwWuzKz61Z06cl7fW-hkBnjklG2ozmSzeEfpeT-T12sBegQVQ5c1YZEbA/s445/Pastel+Umbrella+Filled+Beach+Landscape+-+Graphic+Art+Print.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="445" data-original-width="445" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qmkV3Ui36Dd3bKuIEEJsNocMi_YACLnuFomjq-5n-OaXvRJOv1qmpZOyfJoKGGqEs8SPPOzdi9WKtDck7fSO3k7jBLKhq03A6TkzVQEPshQnLKTnQE-tgqVtCXyVPAhpCgwWuzKz61Z06cl7fW-hkBnjklG2ozmSzeEfpeT-T12sBegQVQ5c1YZEbA/w320-h320/Pastel+Umbrella+Filled+Beach+Landscape+-+Graphic+Art+Print.webp" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">It's that time again! Every summer for many years, I have chosen a stack of books to tackle over the warmer and in theory, less busy, months. I choose books around a theme. I have spent summers reading books about trees, books related to France, books featuring notable houses, and last year, I read several Faulkner novels. That was one of my favorite projects so far, because Faulkner certainly is a project AND a mood, and it was an experience to be immersed in his world for that extended period. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">This year, I'm not feeling as ambitious. Lately, I read a lot for my jobs and sometimes have trouble finishing books in a timely manner. I wanted to choose novels with a decidedly summer vibe, books I might pick up while traveling. Books that really piqued my immediate interest. So I thought, why can't my theme be summer itself? I perused some lists and a couple novels came immediately to mind, and here you are, my choices for this summer's reading project, the <b>Summer of Summer</b>, which I'll read in this order and hopefully, share my thoughts with you. Click on each for a description:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-summer-book/18862420?ean=9781590172681">The Summer Book</a> by Tove Jansson</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://bookshop.org/p/books/seating-arrangements-maggie-shipstead/9788687?ean=9780307743954">Seating Arrangements</a> by Maggie Shipstead</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-natural-bernard-malamud/10378108?ean=9780374502003">The Natural</a> by Bernard Malamud</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://bookshop.org/p/books/flights-olga-tokarczuk/12080023?ean=9780525534204">Flights</a> by Olga Tokarczuk</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://bookshop.org/p/books/thirst-for-salt-madelaine-lucas/18584309?ean=9781953534651">Thirst for Salt</a> by Madelaine Lucas</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">If any of these pique YOUR interest, join me. And I'll be sure to update you on my progress and my impressions of these stories. Happy summer!</span></p>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-55288766062573469272022-12-31T09:29:00.003-08:002022-12-31T09:29:56.350-08:00Favorite Reads, 2022<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhEDB4vcPKUTTSY2zKY9nyLVJ7RSZZ9PlddXFPXU7mgPsrti4NY682oLgaU4_7k1spZ4f7hEDYLAr9xau-YF_-NWISHqeNELY5BFcp0ljB-z2VbfCMUi22AziLY0ckzCt4NcQ4rdzTnAsIPr2ftJfUq3270_6auh-22dwtLuoop2bgn4tLfzOM5lOrjkA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhEDB4vcPKUTTSY2zKY9nyLVJ7RSZZ9PlddXFPXU7mgPsrti4NY682oLgaU4_7k1spZ4f7hEDYLAr9xau-YF_-NWISHqeNELY5BFcp0ljB-z2VbfCMUi22AziLY0ckzCt4NcQ4rdzTnAsIPr2ftJfUq3270_6auh-22dwtLuoop2bgn4tLfzOM5lOrjkA" width="240" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The fact that I'm squeezing this post in on the last day of the year is quite representative of the year I've had! 2022 was busy, but I managed to read 30 books from my last end-of-year post to today. This range seems to be the new norm. As I sit here with my ever-expanding list of goals for 2023 (including publishing a new book - more on that soon), it may seem unrealistic to say that one of those goals is to increase this number in the new year. But that's the plan. I'd also like to make sure to include short story collections next time, so any recommendations are welcome. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">In 2022, of the 30 books I finished, 21 were novels. I also read five books of poetry, and four non-fiction titles. This year's Favorite Reads list is dominated by the author I read all summer, William Faulkner. I read five novels by the master and one biography about him, and I've included four of those six books on the list. They're that good. If, like me, you've considered returning to his work for some time...I'd highly recommend you do. So I'll start this year's list with those books.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjOj9C6BiLUnE4_ZapgYQBxvKTNLtqLCI40pN8YcSIVpxyiOCpSqOFRc0zqb0tXvQczNQaixs4iayZg5pb2FwYCo_CH9uYSnIP1-wUum9Ib-Vog6iXa77S0t1i66_tBRSOF03VtekNETGwXqO6Q1qArWkqdja8TsO1AtvZmrpsk09LaKSCh8TghfGXlog" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img alt="" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="334" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjOj9C6BiLUnE4_ZapgYQBxvKTNLtqLCI40pN8YcSIVpxyiOCpSqOFRc0zqb0tXvQczNQaixs4iayZg5pb2FwYCo_CH9uYSnIP1-wUum9Ib-Vog6iXa77S0t1i66_tBRSOF03VtekNETGwXqO6Q1qArWkqdja8TsO1AtvZmrpsk09LaKSCh8TghfGXlog=w134-h200" width="134" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Faulkner: The Man and the Artist</i> by Stephen B. Oates (1987)</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">This extremely readable biography is novelistic in approach and gives insight into the personal experiences and struggles that formed Faulkner into the man and writer he was. There was much in here I remembered about Faulkner - his troubled marriage, his drinking - and much that was new to me, such as his early support of civil rights and his long, complicated involvement in Hollywood. A great start to a study of the author and his work.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I'm including three novels as favorite reads this year. Each showcases that unique Faulknerian approach: rotating points of view and a sort of stream-of-consciousness omniscience. And yet. The aspect that surprised me the most during my summer reading project was how <i>different </i>each novel was, even while being unmistakably Faulknerian. Each is a masterpiece, in my opinion. They are:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333a42; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><a href="http://maryvenselwhite.blogspot.com/2022/07/summer-of-faulkner-sound-and-fury.html">The Sound and the Fury</a></i> (1929)<o:p style="box-sizing: border-box;"></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333a42; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><a href="http://maryvenselwhite.blogspot.com/2022/07/summer-of-faulkner-as-i-lay-dying-and.html">As I Lay Dying</a></i> (1930)<o:p style="box-sizing: border-box;"></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333a42; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><a href="http://maryvenselwhite.blogspot.com/2022/07/summer-of-faulkner-light-in-august.html">Light in August</a></i> (1932)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333a42; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I've linked each one to my original commentary. And now, the rest of my favorite reads for 2022.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgEaCGTfYAHAxSVMfW7fuAsi6li5RuFqxJcMuazVoviicUyaApOn8TiG-jtxUnrH4I3OUekfThR8EHuS_hyk2BCt6eja8bCXkEdcYwyvxkIOZqO55JdXtmxYcwc7u1Ojx-mokyaFLYoV9Y-OnJSRzeL63arnlXbYJOyFLPgxWYcG1Q94IwBe6NV-ZQvXg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="354" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgEaCGTfYAHAxSVMfW7fuAsi6li5RuFqxJcMuazVoviicUyaApOn8TiG-jtxUnrH4I3OUekfThR8EHuS_hyk2BCt6eja8bCXkEdcYwyvxkIOZqO55JdXtmxYcwc7u1Ojx-mokyaFLYoV9Y-OnJSRzeL63arnlXbYJOyFLPgxWYcG1Q94IwBe6NV-ZQvXg=w142-h200" width="142" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div><br /></div><i>Fever Dream</i> by Samanta Schweblin (2017)</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333a42; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Speaking of points of view, this slim novel will keep you guessing about who to believe and about the nature of reality itself. This haunting story about a summer vacation gone terribly wrong poses many questions about parenting, humanity's plundering of the earth, and the limits of our minds. It's compulsively readable and at times, downright scary. I've never read anything like it, and the 2021 movie adaptation (on Netflix) stays true to the tone and effect of the novel as well.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333a42; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333a42; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOb_UGWSWgiNhYElw4rcoKiJJSgveDXecADeqSD9DjiGa3zx9cMet5Vx4Y8AtHdTXh84F8U3G3gtM8aAR2gBqPWwU5_LqXk0mB7EKD3GHZX8XF7C9BH_l6NtnnIDwn9k4zYLLFUL_7sYRVPe5vQNmjD3i3Sp3jlqVb1mrRXUv4xTrxQevqfogIC96yKw" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img alt="" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="183" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOb_UGWSWgiNhYElw4rcoKiJJSgveDXecADeqSD9DjiGa3zx9cMet5Vx4Y8AtHdTXh84F8U3G3gtM8aAR2gBqPWwU5_LqXk0mB7EKD3GHZX8XF7C9BH_l6NtnnIDwn9k4zYLLFUL_7sYRVPe5vQNmjD3i3Sp3jlqVb1mrRXUv4xTrxQevqfogIC96yKw=w133-h200" width="133" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>The Untethered Soul</i> by Michael A. Singer (2007)</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333a42; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">If you've done any work on yourself, maybe you've come to certain realizations about the weights and burdens you're carrying. Great! But how do you begin to unravel and release them? This bestselling guide to personal growth will be familiar to many. This was my first reading, but it's a book I'm certain I'll read again. The focus is on practical change, how to "free yourself from the habitual thoughts, emotions, and energy patterns that limit your consciousness." If this sounds appealing to you, give it a read. The ideas are succinctly and clearly explained, and yet will lead you to further thought and exploration. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3u2c3uDV22RIug1rjXafnL2MMvD70SEYO99mbg7apAUVgR_yd3UnFdZ7NJIhA42arcxT6Zrf7JB8kKaphCdNi2OMx_kDUolIHKRlWqbYjpMNsTHB31pi-hAr9zsgTH3tWm4L6-5j_H3zb86GUxfHhcCoEQhhtufKNDuPVwVbfo9yU1KWNxEgOOWGx6A" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3u2c3uDV22RIug1rjXafnL2MMvD70SEYO99mbg7apAUVgR_yd3UnFdZ7NJIhA42arcxT6Zrf7JB8kKaphCdNi2OMx_kDUolIHKRlWqbYjpMNsTHB31pi-hAr9zsgTH3tWm4L6-5j_H3zb86GUxfHhcCoEQhhtufKNDuPVwVbfo9yU1KWNxEgOOWGx6A" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img alt="" data-original-height="272" data-original-width="185" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3u2c3uDV22RIug1rjXafnL2MMvD70SEYO99mbg7apAUVgR_yd3UnFdZ7NJIhA42arcxT6Zrf7JB8kKaphCdNi2OMx_kDUolIHKRlWqbYjpMNsTHB31pi-hAr9zsgTH3tWm4L6-5j_H3zb86GUxfHhcCoEQhhtufKNDuPVwVbfo9yU1KWNxEgOOWGx6A=w136-h200" width="136" /></span></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Flower, Grand, First </i>by Gustavo Hernandez (2021)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Named for
prominent streets in Santa Ana where the poet lives, the poems in this debut collection are contemplations about immigration, family, loss, and sexuality.
Born in Jalisco, Mexico, Gus immigrated to the United States in the 1980s with
his family, and his search for that birthplace and the family left behind were
main inspirations. A evocative and heart-searing collection, brilliantly written. I was lucky to have the author join me for a chat about creativity and his writing, which you can view <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cGW5YOQDZaw">here</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">That's the list! These are my only 5-star reads for the year. But...to round out the number to an even 10, I give you three honorable mentions.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSDK3Ijmfj-G_k9D9qPMO2TPfTXCBxJjym7ELyXzpYjOjX2TUVrLvq_fkvouqeKSWU1mmFGj4MvKBj02skQBzC6uKtPNznSZds7oH-SJIX9oRkuGAlqr6uco2jheuTLKLg3QvsdLTRBkN8VPucZ446eXAy-oFKC1WOfo870EKhOixDy6k-046cO3xWWg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img alt="" data-original-height="279" data-original-width="181" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSDK3Ijmfj-G_k9D9qPMO2TPfTXCBxJjym7ELyXzpYjOjX2TUVrLvq_fkvouqeKSWU1mmFGj4MvKBj02skQBzC6uKtPNznSZds7oH-SJIX9oRkuGAlqr6uco2jheuTLKLg3QvsdLTRBkN8VPucZ446eXAy-oFKC1WOfo870EKhOixDy6k-046cO3xWWg=w130-h200" width="130" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><i>If on a winter's night a traveler</i> by Italo Calvino (1979)</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The experimental novel is, like <i>Fever Dream</i>, unlike anything you've read before. It's a postmodernist classic, a <a href="https://literarydevices.net/frame-story/">frame story</a> about a reader trying to read a book called, well, <i>If on a winter's night a traveler</i>. It's about reading, and writing, and perspective, and how to experience storytelling, and relationships, and much more. The only reason I wouldn't give it a full five stars is because I felt that at some point, the ambitious structure and method took it slightly off the rails. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEih34jzGsYCetrsr-GOh0B-2M_o5tJXmZTQbmzMKSCCE07TZA2kO9yUj9sl_zDNhw9oS0NRTaJNEXDDcq6Czqi2oxokg4ctwjCuUEHSCc1ESZsYV4TQRa8K0sae08O5kbYFygRbQl99xInHxYN4nOflZBVLK0q_I7DEFeP3g05G0uKO6pU53_9bKmpdOQ" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img alt="" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="143" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEih34jzGsYCetrsr-GOh0B-2M_o5tJXmZTQbmzMKSCCE07TZA2kO9yUj9sl_zDNhw9oS0NRTaJNEXDDcq6Czqi2oxokg4ctwjCuUEHSCc1ESZsYV4TQRa8K0sae08O5kbYFygRbQl99xInHxYN4nOflZBVLK0q_I7DEFeP3g05G0uKO6pU53_9bKmpdOQ=w131-h200" width="131" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i><div><i>The Best American Poetry 2021</i> by David Lehman (series editor) and Tracey K. Smith (guest editor)</div></i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Want to read more poetry? These anthologies are a great way to wade in. Of course, any anthology will include a wide range of writing and not all of it will be your cup of tea. That's why it's difficult to give the top rating to an anthology. But this one is very good, and now you can find the 2022 version as well.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgzW0NOAdqls56X0iQsFI3DEwSSb2Dz7g8zzXzk9dflwFjrvPL9wfDn3YO58tptp_KW45NnJUiBNzAeX2ZbWmX0GoPFAEI4YidXoHFeHhHb_M9S92anaV1YKUMNFa693nAve1BfKfo7oP5SpjLGcki9-E7eJRS6hkoj0zDzMwDnf-qadrpgHtLFouklg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img alt="" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="423" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgzW0NOAdqls56X0iQsFI3DEwSSb2Dz7g8zzXzk9dflwFjrvPL9wfDn3YO58tptp_KW45NnJUiBNzAeX2ZbWmX0GoPFAEI4YidXoHFeHhHb_M9S92anaV1YKUMNFa693nAve1BfKfo7oP5SpjLGcki9-E7eJRS6hkoj0zDzMwDnf-qadrpgHtLFouklg" width="203" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>Love</i></span><span style="background-color: white;"><i> </i>by </span><span style="background-color: white;">Hanne Ørstavik (2018)</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white;">Often there's a certain, raw directness about Scandinavian literature that I truly love. Authors like Fredrik Backman and </span><span style="background-color: white;">Karl Ove Knausgaard have found their way into wide circulation, and personally, I anxiously await any translation of the work by one of my favorites, Per Petterson. As I write this, I'm wondering if this region should be a focus for my summer reading project...hm. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white;">This novel, <i>Love</i>, returns us to the beginning of this list, and the discussion of point of view. This slim tale tells about a day in the life of a single mother and her son. The narrative switches back and forth between their perspectives, in ways that will surprise and intrigue. The overall effect is a binding one, keeping this story taut around its mood and theme.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white;">As always, I pay special attention to end-of-year reading lists, and would love to hear about your favorites of 2022, as well. Happy New Year to all.</span></span></div>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-78736403144034824212022-08-18T18:12:00.001-07:002022-08-18T18:12:26.593-07:00Summer of Faulkner: Absalom, Absalom!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUcEF3s-12NJnrRDfrH4Zj_KmJUblRqC7MSxOXn1YEu_W9efodhAKrjHBtXWiUcjxPAoHoiz98T7yID5Y1VK7LiaeabBJTHeZJJYfcr6t9YqactXiBXsi1FlkC5sSDKa0CkSWtQf9MKpzV-KZ6psydCTKDt2gi9FE7WvUTGMM0HBgjcJ3zfs1aoL4ecg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="355" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUcEF3s-12NJnrRDfrH4Zj_KmJUblRqC7MSxOXn1YEu_W9efodhAKrjHBtXWiUcjxPAoHoiz98T7yID5Y1VK7LiaeabBJTHeZJJYfcr6t9YqactXiBXsi1FlkC5sSDKa0CkSWtQf9MKpzV-KZ6psydCTKDt2gi9FE7WvUTGMM0HBgjcJ3zfs1aoL4ecg" width="170" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">My final read for my Summer of Faulkner is one a panel of
judges in 2009 called the best Southern novel of all time (one scholar called
it “the only serious rival to Melville’s <i>Moby-Dick</i> as the great American
novel”—and well, I hated that book so I call into question this entire panel.)
But I do get that <i>Absalom, Absalom!</i> explores the complex structure of
the South—class, race, tradition—in an notably comprehensive way.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The novel tells the story of the rise and (because it’s Faulkner) inevitable fall of Thomas Sutpen, a white man who starts out poor with ambitions of
power and wealth. He lives a complicated life, with past indiscretions casting
shadows on his present circumstances. And his prior sins come back to haunt not
only him, but his children. The whole thing is like a Shakespearean tragedy, if
I’m being honest, with twists and violence and no way to a happy ending for,
really, anyone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Like the other novels I read this summer, <i>Absalom, Absalom!</i>
(titled after the Biblical story of King David and his wayward son) addresses the
decline of plantation culture, the evils of slavery, and sexual misconduct. And
the novel is often lauded for its method of—you guessed it, multiple narrators. But
for me, this time the method was a problem. Every narrator is both reliable and unreliable
to some degree—the point being that this is how history is relayed. Sutpen’s “story”
is recounted in flashbacks narrated by Quentin Compson, who got his information
from a variety of sources/other narrators. There are layers upon layers as to what is “true.”
And for me, the storytelling method was too cumbersome, too convoluted, and in the
end, weighed down the overall effect.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Who knows—maybe I have Faulkner fatigue. I’ll allow that I
didn’t read this last novel on a vacation but rather, during my regular, busy
life. At times, it was a struggle to read (and don’t get me started on the
almost-forty consecutive pages of italics in the middle of the book). Of
course, it’s still Faulkner and there were many moments of brilliance and
enough to keep me plodding along. Perhaps I’ll file <i>Absalom, Absalom!</i> in the “Give
Another Chance” column, for sometime down the road.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">And that’s a wrap on my Summer of Faulkner. Usually, I have
some idea of what I’d like to do for the next summer, but I haven't
really considered. I may do another author—I liked immersing myself in a single
writer’s voice. Or maybe some other theme will hit me. In the meantime, I don't think I'm finished with Faulkner. I intend to read a few more over the non-summer months. He really is an incomparable writer.</span><o:p></o:p></p>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-87525610977617799462022-07-28T08:56:00.000-07:002022-07-28T08:56:13.435-07:00Summer of Faulkner: Light in August<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhspT2Kx-5CnRR2GtFLc-3X9Atf55nXL-rmMYvkp04JKpZXImgSBhVJJndnlYy6qVHwGl3bTm__bU2OdHbknkN7IvcuZx3OeZhOM3_gEERS1jbUQFII2ITv2Zfa1eplHVYWWyAoT-4hMxkGzEbAIEGp5T--L5zuL5Mv7zaxv6UeNZ6RnAWBL6jBD73nmw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="380" data-original-width="260" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhspT2Kx-5CnRR2GtFLc-3X9Atf55nXL-rmMYvkp04JKpZXImgSBhVJJndnlYy6qVHwGl3bTm__bU2OdHbknkN7IvcuZx3OeZhOM3_gEERS1jbUQFII2ITv2Zfa1eplHVYWWyAoT-4hMxkGzEbAIEGp5T--L5zuL5Mv7zaxv6UeNZ6RnAWBL6jBD73nmw=w219-h320" width="219" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Light in August </i>begins like this:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: arial;">“Sitting beside the road, watching the wagon mount the hill
toward her, Lena thinks, ‘I have come from Alabama : a fur piece. All the way
from Alabama a-walking.’"</span></blockquote><span style="font-family: arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">and it ends like this:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: arial;">“’My, my. A body does get around. Here we aint been coming
from Alabama but two months, and now it’s already Tennessee.’”</span></blockquote><span style="font-family: arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The novel covers this short period during which Lena Grove finds
herself in Jefferson, Mississippi, where she’s come to seek the father of her unborn
child, Lucas Burch, a man who promised to send for her and didn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Lena is a sympathetic character from the start, because of
her situation and gumption, and because of her naivete in believing that
somewhere, Burch will be waiting with the house and marriage she thinks he
promised. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">But Lena Grove isn’t the main character of Faulkner’s
seventh novel published in 1932; one of the masterful things about the author’s
method in <i>Light in August</i> is the alternating points of view. It’s a
common, Faulknerian technique and yet, he seems to go about it in a unique way
for each novel. Here, an alternating omniscience allows us into the minds of several of the characters, but often a new, periphery character is introduced at a particular moment as if to lend a degree of objectivity. In this way, the points of view contribute to the furthering of plot, while also lending depth to the themes of the book. I don't even know if I'm describing this well. A simple way to say it is that everything in this book is doing several things at once. Everything. It's truly masterful, a novel I could read over and over, I believe, and find new satisfactions each time.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">We follow young, pregnant Lena into Jefferson much
like a camera follows a subject. We meet other characters, each, like her,
carrying some burden from the past. Reverend Hightower spent a childhood
obsessed with his grandfather, a Civil War hero, and was ousted from his church
position after a personal tragedy. Byron Bunch maintains a friendship with the reverend
but is otherwise solitary and isolated until Lena’s arrival. Joanna Burden is a
spinster whose family has a long history of anti-slavery activism and intermixing
with blacks. And because one of Faulkner’s primary preoccupations in the novel
is the relationship between and status for both whites and blacks in the South—well,
it makes perfect sense that Joanna, with her confusion about her place among the races, becomes involved with our main character, Joe Christmas,
a light-skinned man who has lived as both white and black at certain times of
his life.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjCffDat_2qU-6EMtoNmNiti8EWjhsPfXCA2ucIjzf9tTixSMzs1tlvAbGeIYXdYdAmWOdVYU9F7DPAVgsARB40ZmxT4JmFgih1SjeSREpLvmStSGhvMErtQoHF8448ejeKpnWHB1As7S4ds1y8RXKQ1U4IL-3OKjDDuxE8bhFcgvKIImdWNFZhijGnzw" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="530" data-original-width="350" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjCffDat_2qU-6EMtoNmNiti8EWjhsPfXCA2ucIjzf9tTixSMzs1tlvAbGeIYXdYdAmWOdVYU9F7DPAVgsARB40ZmxT4JmFgih1SjeSREpLvmStSGhvMErtQoHF8448ejeKpnWHB1As7S4ds1y8RXKQ1U4IL-3OKjDDuxE8bhFcgvKIImdWNFZhijGnzw" width="158" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">The characterization of Joe Christmas is nuanced and deep;
he’s an orphan who suffers abuse and alienation throughout his childhood and becomes a drifter. I
think one of the most impressive things about Faulkner’s drawing of this
character is that even when Christmas becomes more and more corrupted and
driven to terrible acts, we still feel sympathetic. Because of his violent
upbringing and the lack of a mother, Christmas’s feelings for and about women
are convoluted, his feelings about race, the same. He has never been allowed any
sort of peace and when he finds it in short spells, he sabotages and destroys. On the race issue, never fitting in completely, he lives his life ready to fight.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: arial;">“Now and then he could see them: heads in silhouette, a
white blurred garmented shape; on a lighted veranda four people sat about a
card table, the white faces intent and sharp in the low light, the bare arms of
the women glaring smooth and white above the trivial cards. ‘That’s all I
wanted,” he thought. ‘That dont seem like a whole lot to ask.’”</span></blockquote><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Note the repetition of the word "white" in that passage. It
should be noted that in addition to an intricate plot and a cast of memorable
characters, Light in August contains some of the best prose I’ve read on this
Faulkner journey. Like this, our first glimpse of five-year-old Joe Christmas:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: arial;">“Memory believes before knowing remembers. Believes longer
than recollects, longer than knowing even wonders. Knows remembers believes a
corridor in a big long garbled cold echoing building of dark red brick
sootbleakened by more chimneys than its own, set in a grassless
cinderstrewnpacked compound surrounded by smoking factory purlieus and enclosed
by a ten foot steel-and-wire fence like a penitentiary or a zoo, where in
random erratic surges, with sparrowlike childtrebling, orphans in identical and
uniform blue denim in and out of remembering but in knowing constant as the
bleak walls, the bleak windows where in rain soot from the yearly adjacenting
chimneys streaked like black tears.”</span></blockquote><span style="font-family: arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I mean. Could the story of Joe Christmas have gone any way
but tragically?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">For each, well-drawn character, the past guides the present, and the plot of <i>Light in August</i> reveals, through twists and turns, all
of the connections between these complex people. As is the case with the other
novels I’ve read this summer, Faulkner has something to say about the choices
for women and sexuality, about the lasting effect of slavery and racial violence and injustice, and about the South’s
rich history and traditions. But race is perhaps the major consideration of the novel and
about that, he reflects the devastation but offers no answers or resolution.
It’s left for the characters to trudge forward, as Lena continues her journey
through the South.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I remembered this book as a favorite from when I read it
over twenty years ago; it’s my favorite of the books I’ve read this go-round. </span><o:p></o:p></p>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-86848822661973454002022-07-15T13:34:00.010-07:002022-07-17T08:41:06.018-07:00Summer of Faulkner: As I Lay Dying and Sanctuary<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFJjkl5l5NZMrd1STT81Jkf3aP8l6UjCxGyEK7saNWJeV0lIrL9b1PuwZuFS9Ewqqh6BZh55BZRBiVZuRMXIljVEI427bmdWUTZ_Y0c61rSoHv1v272ZpEeV4HCwjNe5UVhgQ27CQ1tJrkAJAafDvcGelgIan6TPYdLpnJzRkBJuciW3dzzqoJ9L3zg/s2000/faulkner2-3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFJjkl5l5NZMrd1STT81Jkf3aP8l6UjCxGyEK7saNWJeV0lIrL9b1PuwZuFS9Ewqqh6BZh55BZRBiVZuRMXIljVEI427bmdWUTZ_Y0c61rSoHv1v272ZpEeV4HCwjNe5UVhgQ27CQ1tJrkAJAafDvcGelgIan6TPYdLpnJzRkBJuciW3dzzqoJ9L3zg/w400-h320/faulkner2-3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I often think there’s no better place to read a book than on
an airplane. Suspended between places with few distractions (especially if you
have earplugs), it’s a prime opportunity for a fictional world to take over. And
maybe another fantastic place to read a book is on vacation, when perhaps you’ve
put the concerns of work and everyday life on the back burner. It follows that maybe reading
a novel on a plane <i>before </i>or <i>after </i>a vacation is the best of all. After experiencing three Faulkner novels (so far) this summer, I can tell you that it’s particularly suited for reading
him. Faulkner is a big mood. His stories are immersive, each with its own
language and method. Particularly the method. Reading his novels in a single
sitting increases accessibility; there’s no reorientation period as there might
be if you read in segments during breaks from your normal, busy life. And so, I
give you my thoughts on </span><i style="font-family: verdana;">As I Lay Dying</i><span style="font-family: verdana;"> and </span><i style="font-family: verdana;">Sanctuary</i><span style="font-family: verdana;">.</span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">When I chose the novels for my summer project, I selected
five books in chronological order during a particularly productive writing
period of Faulkner’s life. The historical notes on the first three novels I've read are
interesting. Of the first, the author stated, “I had just written my guts into </span><i style="font-family: verdana;">The
Sound and the Fury</i><span style="font-family: verdana;"> though I was not aware until the book was published that
I had done so, because I had done it for pleasure.” Faulkner bounced between
writing what he wanted and writing to make money over the course of his entire
career, and it’s not surprising that what is probably his most critically lauded novel was an
act of creative passion. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Of </span><i style="font-family: verdana;">Sanctuary, </i><span style="font-family: verdana;">however,</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> he wrote:</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>“To me it is a cheap idea, because it was deliberately
conceived to make money. I had been writing books for about five years, which
got published and not bought…I took a little time out, and speculated what a
person in Mississippi would believe to be current trends, chose what I thought
was the right answer and invested the most horrific tale I could imagine and
wrote it in about three weeks.”</i></span></blockquote><span style="font-family: verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The editor who received <i>Sanctuary </i>told Faulkner he couldn’t
publish it, or they’d both end up in jail. In need of money, Faulkner took a
job in a power plant, shoveling coal during the night shift. Between midnight
and 4 a.m., when there was less to do because everyone was sleeping, he wrote
<i>As I Lay Dying</i> in six weeks, “without changing a word.” He told the publisher, “by
it I would stand or fail.” Another novel, it would seem, inspired by pure,
creative passion.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFAT1-VZSbfM_fvUt49P2AqF-okCdWBAW3bqHlWUAJESvt5tqx-XHA-AFJk03uudaXwyvqC3sttP6HBIn2CXuXGBCQzY96tJ58IO9kPr3_KvmGr9iH37tW-K6ypWMVT1JcAQvUeMg2C7Rj0o5bx68e2zPwS0Cer1ng6YBkxdK0FnNmZCET8Fy4Hd0j9g/s259/faulkner.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFAT1-VZSbfM_fvUt49P2AqF-okCdWBAW3bqHlWUAJESvt5tqx-XHA-AFJk03uudaXwyvqC3sttP6HBIn2CXuXGBCQzY96tJ58IO9kPr3_KvmGr9iH37tW-K6ypWMVT1JcAQvUeMg2C7Rj0o5bx68e2zPwS0Cer1ng6YBkxdK0FnNmZCET8Fy4Hd0j9g/s1600/faulkner.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: verdana; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">By then, he had forgotten about <i>Sanctuary </i>but undertook a comprehensive
rewriting when asked. He claimed to make a “fair job of it” and hoped not to “shame”
the other two novels. He seemed to know that it was in another category
altogether, and I certainly found it so.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>As I Lay Dying </i>is the story of the Bundren family. It opens
with the point of view of Darl, who observes his older brother, Cash, building
a coffin for their mother, who lies in the house nearing death. There’s some discussion
about whether he should be doing this right outside the window where Addie,
their ailing mother, can see. Everyone seems agitated by the sound of the
sawing and hammering. And with these first images and sounds, Faulkner sets a
mood and tone that masterfully prevails throughout the novel.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Bundrens are a hardscrabble, farming family who can
never seem to make out right. Bad luck, the patriarch of the family would
claim. Throughout the novel, Anse Bundren bemoans his fortune: “I have heard
men cuss their luck, and right, for they were sinful men. But I do not say it’s
a curse on me, because I have done no wrong to be cussed by.” This is up for
debate throughout, not only in relation to Anse but for each character. Cash and
his brooding brother, Darl, the sole daughter of the family, Dewey Dell, whose
personal problem weighs more heavily on her than her mother’s impending death, Jewel,
the mother’s favorite, and the youngest, Vardaman, who possibly has mental
disabilities and associates his mother’s death with a fish he caught earlier
the same day.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Like <i>The Sound and the Fury</i>, <i>As I Lay Dying</i> rotates points of
view but each chapter is short and immersive, and the effect of the blending
of these scenes is quite mesmerizing, like a collage around Addie. The family’s
matriarch was tough and bitter; she has requested that her body be delivered to
Jefferson to be laid with her ancestors—although she knew this would cause complications
and expense her family couldn’t really afford. Faulkner gives Addie a voice,
post-mortem, in a chapter when she recounts the birth of each child and the
frustrations of her life.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The novel maintains a tragic tone laced with dark humor, as
the family carts Addie’s body while vultures circle above. You wouldn’t think
you would laugh about a scene when they attempt traversing a river and the body
lurches into the water, but you do. It’s no farce, though; the novel speaks volumes
about the South and the struggles of farmers, about roles for women and sexuality,
and a new generation shackled by the demands of family and tradition and the past.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">If I had one thing to say about <i>Sanctuary</i>, it would be that
the content is unpleasant from start to finish, really. No character is truly likable or, more importantly, particularly sympathetic. As Faulkner claimed, it was “the
most horrific tale” he could imagine. In the story, a young debutante named
Temple Drake arrives at the home of a bootlegger after a car crash. It’s a house of horrors, as she is attacked several times throughout the night, becomes
semi-intelligible due to trauma, and is kidnapped by an impotent criminal named
Popeye and eventually, after suffering more abuse, ends up in a Memphis
brothel.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfj1v1Cyaiup3CW8-Si4N1WLA3TuBJFJGqqhktQxjQbNcDX9MSi-BFmxuBgD4n6mO7PdijtfaAgw9xQDy3WefIizBTS2idAWfKxqx7fI4uF2OqM9wm-iSmduEln-Ypdp7TDJvTZx2Hq3c-8IAqcRQT_SCaKi25tYYIDvoEwXXWkETFWDQV6IAur6LVKA/s299/faulkner-sanctuary.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="299" data-original-width="176" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfj1v1Cyaiup3CW8-Si4N1WLA3TuBJFJGqqhktQxjQbNcDX9MSi-BFmxuBgD4n6mO7PdijtfaAgw9xQDy3WefIizBTS2idAWfKxqx7fI4uF2OqM9wm-iSmduEln-Ypdp7TDJvTZx2Hq3c-8IAqcRQT_SCaKi25tYYIDvoEwXXWkETFWDQV6IAur6LVKA/s1600/faulkner-sanctuary.webp" width="176" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Although the book seems to be an attempt at a potboiler (those “trends”
Faulkner talked about), the author can’t help but draw commentary about women’s
sexuality through the characterization of Temple herself, a young woman who
seems to flirt with danger until it comes to her in severe fashion. The novel
has something to say about the South during prohibition, a time that encouraged
lawlessness, and about alcoholism—the car is crashed by Gowan Stevens, an alcoholic
and Temple’s companion on that fateful day. But again, most of the content is
just…well, unpleasant. Much has been said about the famous scene (or lack of
scene) with the famous object—but I’ll leave that for you to find out.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Sanctuary </i>is written without shifting point of views and much
of the literary flair of Faulkner’s other novels. But again, the author was
writing with a certain thing in mind, for the broader audience he imagined. And,
dear readers, it worked. The success of Faulkner’s potboiler in 1931 freed him from financial worries, for the most part.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Next up: a reread of <i>Light in August</i>, the book I remembered
as a favorite, to be followed by the last book of my summer project, <i>Absalom,
Absalom!</i> Fortunately, I still have some summer plane rides left.</div></span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p></div>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-61707791322538046332022-07-01T15:51:00.002-07:002022-07-02T07:14:22.555-07:00Summer of Faulkner: The Sound and the Fury<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh82iMZ8pH_a_-kwFxQpTsrknoyec6RkGTTSMGXq-oKuCtt9TD2UvdHZ8l1P_bc3iLDjz4j2rGdLuISQcRXrk48079BkCqNBy4RzjaM_Q_7DJYN3aVUbMJsvbLPBe65fSJztM_lqDyj9qquVR6iQuD-rtSqeBBys417Ac7YJwe8bV1HM3qQzSLQrJ-Z4Q/s6912/thesoundandthefury.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="6912" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh82iMZ8pH_a_-kwFxQpTsrknoyec6RkGTTSMGXq-oKuCtt9TD2UvdHZ8l1P_bc3iLDjz4j2rGdLuISQcRXrk48079BkCqNBy4RzjaM_Q_7DJYN3aVUbMJsvbLPBe65fSJztM_lqDyj9qquVR6iQuD-rtSqeBBys417Ac7YJwe8bV1HM3qQzSLQrJ-Z4Q/w640-h320/thesoundandthefury.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I just finished watching the third season of <i>My Brilliant
Friend</i>, the HBO series adapted from the Elena Ferrante novels. In this season, the main character—also an author named Elena—has written
about how women are fashioned by men (her "book" is only 70 pages and she’s not sure what it
is but of course her publisher will take it!). It’s a feminism manifesto of
sorts, about how women were formed to be like men and yet, are required to
live by men’s definitions and requirements (this is a simplification).</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But wait. You’re thinking: I thought you were reading Faulkner.
I am! I’ve finished the first novel on my list, <i>The Sound and the Fury</i>, the
story of an aristocratic, Southern family’s attempts to retain their (supposedly) unvarnished legacy, steeped in the moral and cultural ideals of the time. But
Faulkner was no optimist, and so they fail, and the story is one of loss; over time, the
family falls from grace. And in writing terms, the “inciting incident” for this
widespread tragedy is a localized one—the downfall of the family’s only
daughter, Caddy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When people think of Faulkner, they think of alternating points
of view and jumps in time that have no signal and often seem to make no sense.
This book has all of that! The novel employs three, first-person perspectives,
those of the three Compson brothers: Benjy, Quentin, and Jason, and a third-person POV which focuses on the perspective of Dilsey, the household cook and stand-in
mother for the brothers and Caddy. And it occurs to me that the restraints and expectations felt by Caddy in the South during the first quarter of the twentieth century were probably not unlike the gender expectations at the half-mark of the same century and beyond in Naples, Italy.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Much is often made of Faulkner’s characterization of Benjy,
the “idiot” of the family, a thirty-three-year-old man who must be supervised
around-the-clock because of the severity of his condition. Endless scholarship
has examined possible diagnoses for Benjy (modern consensus is probably severe
autism), but everyone believes him to be entirely unable to process information
(he is not), and some even think he’s deaf—in terms of a writing device, it
makes for an interesting POV that is almost omniscient in the sense that no one takes
him as a witness of any sort.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And the way Faulkner has expressed Benjy’s voice is, of
course, provocative, but each point of view is uniquely drawn and remarkable in
its own way, and the sun holding these planetary points of view in its gravity
is Caddy, always Caddy. Each brother takes a particular interest in her, according to the image of her he has constructed (and this is where Elena's writings come in)—whether it be nurturer, idealized womanhood, protected charge, or something else. The Compson parents are mostly absent—the father’s an
alcoholic, the mother is selfish and often takes to her bed, leaving the
children to Dilsey’s supervision. As the oldest, Quentin assumes responsibility
for the family, especially for upholding honor where his sister is concerned, Jason is not well-liked and is simmering pot of bitterness, and Benjy, as
mentioned, has the capacity of a toddler and imprints like a duckling after his sister. And when Caddy begins to behave promiscuously
and eventually becomes pregnant, the cogs are set in motion for each to meet
his demise in one way or another.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The novel’s about the southern states, of course, and what some saw as
the deterioration of the upper class after the Civil War. The choices available
to the brothers were perhaps those Faulkner felt were his: go away to an
eastern school, stay on the land enmeshed in the noble tradition of farming, or retreat into an idiotic
ignorance of the situation. Having read the Faulkner biography before this
novel, I couldn’t help but draw lines from Faulkner’s parents to the elder
Compsons, and from Faulkner himself to the frustrations and convoluted
messaging about morals embedded in the behavior of the Compson siblings. Like
Caddy, Faulkner suffered a series of thwarted relationships and engaged in
sexual misconduct. And in the repetition of process that occurs when Caddy’s
daughter grows up to be rebellious, discontent, and primed to repeat the tragic, downward trajectory of her ancestors, one can sense the general dissatisfaction and expected doom that
started Faulkner on the road to severe alcoholism at the tender age of fourteen.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Does the book sound depressing? I suppose in some ways, it
is. But where the tragedy of the Compson family grows heavy, <i>The Sound and the
Fury</i> is lifted, almost a century after its first printing, by the genius of
William Faulkner’s vision and execution. I didn’t find it difficult to follow
what was happening—at least, not nearly as much as when first read it. The changes
in point of view are inspired, each in its own way, and the whole thing engages you along the ride, even if it’s downhill. It’s an amazing work of fiction, and a great start to my summer reading.<o:p></o:p></p><br /><p></p>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-35289899367819414052022-06-12T11:30:00.003-07:002022-06-13T10:16:47.647-07:00The Summer of Faulkner<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8OJmRa_nfQxsal64DTNTFt9GKPo1VOBQCPAUUgcrCsuAH46h7AUvEQDHY-ydSducZlYI0DHv06G8fOKkdLouoGqbHKL-1Z22SZJxfxmhCR6a8Iui0TEDoB6cGmvqMlgi0r3J8YodHnWtaxTODJ7cACMljFYFEsKTCjmReeN1T40qpRwpBDsoq1B67Uw/s2000/Faulkner.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8OJmRa_nfQxsal64DTNTFt9GKPo1VOBQCPAUUgcrCsuAH46h7AUvEQDHY-ydSducZlYI0DHv06G8fOKkdLouoGqbHKL-1Z22SZJxfxmhCR6a8Iui0TEDoB6cGmvqMlgi0r3J8YodHnWtaxTODJ7cACMljFYFEsKTCjmReeN1T40qpRwpBDsoq1B67Uw/w400-h320/Faulkner.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">For many years, I’d look forward to summer as a time to
catch up with some reading I wasn’t able to tackle during the cooler, busier
months. I’d choose a series—such as Hilary Mantel’s first two books in the Wolf
Hall trilogy (still haven’t read the third), or I’d tackle a classic I thought might
be laborious—a collection of Chekhov stories or Henry James’s <i>The Golden
Bowl</i> (very laborious!). And in 2018, I made this habit a formal endeavor
when I christened “The Summer of Chabon” and read four novels by Michael
Chabon. And so, each summer I choose a reading project based on a theme. 2019 was
The Summer of Trees, 2020 was dedicated to books related to France, and last year, The Summer of Houses books all featured a house as an integral part of
character, plot or theme.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">In recent years, my leisure reading has slowed down overall,
as I began to read more for my day jobs of teaching and editing. Where I used to
read 50+ books a year, I’m lucky to get into the mid-20s these days. This year
I’m sitting at thirteen novels read. With so much going on, I often find myself
lacking the mental stamina to sit and read for long periods. What better time
to pick up several novels by an American master who’s also considered one of
the most difficult to comprehend?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">For 2022, I’ll be reading and re-reading several books by
and about William Faulkner. When I was in college, I took a course on Southern
Literature with Professor Margaret Whitt. That class, and that teacher, was
one of the seminal experiences of my life (maybe I took 2 or 3 courses with
her?), and it ignited a love of gothic lit and introduced me to so many authors—Sherwood
Anderson, Katherine Anne Porter (everyone should read more KAP!), Carson
McCullers (!!!), Flannery O’Connor, Ralph Ellison, etc., etc.—the combined
influence of which I believe has had the most seismic and lasting effect on my own
writing. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">For The Summer of Faulkner, I have five novels and one
biography on my list. I realize this is probably unrealistic, but here we are. The good news is, I’ve already finished the biography, <i>William Faulkner: The
Man and the Artist</i>. It’s excellent, written in a novelistic style, taking the
reader from 1902, when “Billy” Faulkner’s family relocated to Oxford, Mississippi,
to his death in a Byhalia sanatorium in 1962. Faulkner was, of course, famous
for his writing but also for his prodigious drinking, and his life was struck
by tragedy and a series of troubled, complicated romantic attachments and relationships.
The emotional frustrations and drinking coexisted and interrelated, like linked,
winding strands of his psychological DNA. He told an early paramour “Between
grief and nothing I’ll always take grief,” and his biographer returns to this
sentiment several times. Faulkner certainly weathered his share of grief, and
physical ailments as well—he suffered a terrible burn after a drinking bout,
and he had recurring back problems—more reason for him to turn to liquor.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I learned much about Faulkner, including his love of fox
hunts (the “thrill of danger,” he said) and his time in Hollywood writing
screenplays—primarily for the paychecks—and his travels back and forth. Later
in life, he wrote about “the Negro problem” and his complicated sentiments
about the South and Civil Rights that appear in these essays and, of course,
throughout his entire oeuvre of fiction. Writers may want to reacquaint themselves
with the wonderful speech he gave in 1950 when he won the Nobel Prize. You can
read it <a href="https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/literature/1949/faulkner/speech/">here </a>or listen to Faulkner himself <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENIj5oNtapw">here</a>.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">William Faulkner published 19 novels, 125 short stories (I
didn’t mention the stories! So many stories, including “<a href="https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&pid=sites&srcid=ZGVmYXVsdGRvbWFpbnx0aGV2aXJ0dWFsZW5nbGlzaG5vdGVib29rfGd4OjFiYjYyNDA4NTQwZDkyMjc">The Bear</a>,” which some consider one
of the best of all time), 20 screenplays, one play, six collections of
poetry, and various essays. It seemed to me there were several approaches to
choosing which novels to read but in the end, I went with a fairly simple
strategy. I chose five novels in chronological order, during a particularly productive
era of the writer’s life. Two of them I have read before, but it’s been many
years. These five novels are:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>The Sound and the Fury</i> (1929)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>As I Lay Dying</i> (1930)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Sanctuary</i> (1931)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Light in August</i> (1932)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Absalom, Absalom!</i> (1936)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">There was a book in 1935 called <i>Pylon</i>, but I skipped
that one. And to be honest, if anything doesn’t make the cut this summer, it’ll
be the last one, <i>Absalom, Absalom! </i>I have read two of the more famous novels on
the list, <i>The Sound and the Fury</i> and <i>Light in August</i>, and considered
leaving the former off the list. But I didn’t, and I’ll be starting with <i>The
Sound and the Fury</i> (if you recall, a title taken from <i>Macbeth</i>).
Looking to confound and frustrate yourself over the calm, summer months? Join
me! I’ll be reporting back on my progress as I take this adventure, and I’d
love to hear your impressions as well.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Note: in 2005, Oprah did a Summer of Faulkner as part of her reading club, and you can buy three of these novels in a <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Summer-Faulkner-Dying-August-Oprahs/dp/0307275329">boxed set</a>, if that's of interest. </span></p>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-34332804461371888022022-03-23T09:08:00.002-07:002022-03-23T11:02:24.682-07:00Film influences in Starling<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9AbHEdrvsBJnV_ANGMJh3-enY3Fu6k2U2b3O9xbB0evSily3psWJY3lhpbATJRGRrMaobyRbHQs_HbgFlm1H7gx9xHmImn0afelkh51hfdWdEAyzybRPMVTDaHjDlmnd2V0t1JlMfOjpSmuVCkIzJdMZdfP_0vYhCo-soK_dzgpCBhXTowc7c_9jfFg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="191" data-original-width="264" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9AbHEdrvsBJnV_ANGMJh3-enY3Fu6k2U2b3O9xbB0evSily3psWJY3lhpbATJRGRrMaobyRbHQs_HbgFlm1H7gx9xHmImn0afelkh51hfdWdEAyzybRPMVTDaHjDlmnd2V0t1JlMfOjpSmuVCkIzJdMZdfP_0vYhCo-soK_dzgpCBhXTowc7c_9jfFg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Films and books have long held two neighboring places in my
heart. As forms of storytelling, they have shaped and influenced me, each
informing the other. I warn students of any class I teach that I will be
referring, indiscriminately, to all forms of storytelling in our discussions—but
what I mean by that is you will hear me talk about books, movies, television
shows, Netflix series, songs, theater, etc.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Sometimes, writers are said to write in a “cinematic style”
or with a “cinematic perspective,” and that has certainly been said about my writing
from time to time. What is meant by this? It could mean the writing provides
encompassing and vivid settings that are easy to visualize. Perhaps it means
the form lends itself to the shape of film, with abrupt cuts from scene to
scene or other techniques. Maybe it just means we can easily picture the book
as a movie. For an excellent discussion of cinematic writing, look
<a href="https://lithub.com/when-we-call-a-book-cinematic-what-do-we-really-mean/">here</a>.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I have a new novel, <i><a href="https://wintergoosepublishing.com/product/starling/">Starling</a></i>, coming out in May. I started
writing it a long time ago, and it has gone through many iterations. There are—what
I suppose you can call—stylistic flourishes in it. I might as well be up front
about this. In my experience, most people question or resist stylistic
flourishes! Probably a result of our modern times, most of us feeling like we
don’t have time for anything other than a direct line from A to B. But in
<i>Starling</i>, aside from the main themes and story I wanted to explore, I also
wanted it to say something about film, and about how these two forms of
storytelling exist amicably for me, side by side.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Like me, the main character in the novel holds a
lifetime of images in her mind. Gina has settled into a comfortable routine over
the years, and feels her love of watching stories has expanded her horizons in
many ways:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><blockquote>“Through television and movies, she had travelled all over. She
knew Italy from <i>Roman Holiday</i> and <i>Room with a View</i>, California more from <i>Chinatown </i>and <i>Irreconcilable Differences</i> than her few visits to Deborah in
Sacramento. She had digested entire chunks of history by watching television
miniseries: twentieth century Australia in <i>The
Thorn Birds</i>, the Civil War in <i>North
and South</i>.”</blockquote><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Gina may have been influenced by her mother, a woman who named her
oldest daughter after the actress Deborah Kerr and who sought
refuge in a darkened living room after the kids had gone up to bed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></p><blockquote>“Gina remembered a frequent sight: her mother, legs tucked
underneath her on the tweed sofa, face lit by a flickering television screen.
There was no getting her mother’s attention if she was watching something.”</blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">And speaking of Deborah Kerr, there are certain images, certain
scenes you will never be able to budge from your consciousness, once seen. Forward
to 3:30 for the good part.</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/QgVPnWmUqd4" width="320" youtube-src-id="QgVPnWmUqd4"></iframe></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">One of the inspirations for the novel was the idea of people
creating their own realities. This has been a preoccupation of mine since
college when I read Benedict Anderson’s <i>Imagined Communities</i> in a history
class. A strange influence for fiction writing, I know, but the idea that
nations could be/are formed by the collective imagining of their members—well,
this has been something I’ve transferred to my fiction again and again, substituting "reality" for nations, and applying this idea to individual
characters and families (even, especially, when “truth” is questionable). I never
could have predicted how this basic premise would eventually affect my life, drastically
and quite personally, but that’s another story altogether. In this novel, Gina
has been living a life of her own making. And sometimes, the life we make can
have illusionary aspects. We have so many films about alternate realities now
and the ways technology has infiltrated our personal lives but when it came out
in 1998, <i>The Truman Show</i> presented something novel—a person whose life
ended up being something entirely unimagined. Gina catches glimpses of this
movie on a long, international flight.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-_zYn-HHcyA" width="320" youtube-src-id="-_zYn-HHcyA"></iframe></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">There are many visual references in the novel but in its first
version, the opening scene was a protracted, stylistic flourish: a sequence of downtown Chicago during a storm. I wanted to describe and set the
scene as a movie would. Here, the shot of commuters huddling underneath a bus
stop shelter, there, cars inching down a drenched street. Then we follow the
camera view to a single window in a high rise, where we focus on our hero,
standing at the rain-streaked glass. This flourish has been shortened over the
many drafts of the book, but the main intent is still there. The thing about
images and stories and characters and silky dresses that bounce and glide around
a palatial room—these things tend to attach themselves to other images and
stories and the impossibility of a boat piercing through a piece of the horizon—and
sometimes, something from our subconsciousness is unearthed unexpectedly. And this
is what happens to Gina as she stands at that window. She’s been humming the
tune from a Gap television commercial all day. It was a popular commercial at
the time, in the 1990s, and I wish I could find a version with better quality.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/XJ735krOiPo" width="320" youtube-src-id="XJ735krOiPo"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><blockquote>“The song is simple, mesmerizing, and it’s been in her head all day. The visuals: dancers in t-shirts and khaki pants converge and split into various groupings…The dancers are young and happy, perfect skin in various hues. And somehow this song, these gliding forms, are tied to a memory of Gina’s father, talking about Elvis at a dinner party.” </blockquote><p> And so it goes, memory tied to memory, images linked to others.</p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p></div><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-11266854877993481652021-12-22T10:52:00.000-08:002021-12-22T10:52:57.058-08:00Favorite Reads, 2021<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZtpM82SipLMze3gURpABkQdKFcCYRGlE6_eWwje-_obHp7K9tXxkrxvKxXcKlf4fy1wYcOAjmHnTJ7T3BO6DaHb5fH27BQdLFb5LxCs0UEldOLRFKzL5yaJnOFDRRgSVTfxFlLtJ2l-ks/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZtpM82SipLMze3gURpABkQdKFcCYRGlE6_eWwje-_obHp7K9tXxkrxvKxXcKlf4fy1wYcOAjmHnTJ7T3BO6DaHb5fH27BQdLFb5LxCs0UEldOLRFKzL5yaJnOFDRRgSVTfxFlLtJ2l-ks/" width="320" /></a></div><br />The year is drawing to a close and as I look back over my
reading for the year, I realize I’ve fallen short of my goals. But it’s for good
reasons. In 2021, I was fortunate to have an increased amount of editing work,
which means I was reading future books rather than those already on the
shelves. Also, I read a fair amount of student papers, and even started
writing another novel. I’m grateful for all of these aspects of my reading and
writing life! In the tradition of this blog, here are the stats for the year.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In 2021, I read 28 books—down from 44 in 2020 and 30 in 2019.
This year’s leisure reading included 14 novels, 1 short story collection, 6
memoirs and 7 graphic novels. The graphic novels are, of course, novels, but I
distinguish them as a separate category this year so I can give the format a
little plug here. My typical procedure for my end-of-year list is to choose my
five-star reads and this year, there were only six. In no particular order:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_x4FrkMLtEs-q4Kop9PBjYP30XsUxReyBztLk3FsY3bHol-X_xf3XrSImvQjAM0VsTbtQ2QAc72g80xHTdowZIscOfgiFvMDnG-RA8CC6UHvRXK7qVSBWRMRG0vU4KMr_0r_NK9um6gU/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_x4FrkMLtEs-q4Kop9PBjYP30XsUxReyBztLk3FsY3bHol-X_xf3XrSImvQjAM0VsTbtQ2QAc72g80xHTdowZIscOfgiFvMDnG-RA8CC6UHvRXK7qVSBWRMRG0vU4KMr_0r_NK9um6gU/w200-h200/image.png" width="200" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Echoland </i>by Per Petterson (1989)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Per Petterson is one of my favorite authors, and I was
surprised to find a novel of his on my shelf that I hadn’t read. The international,
translated version of Echoland was released in 2016, but the novel was
originally published in Norwegian in 1989. Petterson’s writing, for me, evokes
a depth of feeling similar to the work of other favorites—Kent Haruf, Marilynne
Robinson—a quality that is difficult to explain. He quietly presents everyday moments
in their resplendent glory. Haruf called it “the precious ordinary.” These
writers strike a chord for me, some universal understanding about life’s struggles
and joys and questions. <i>Echoland </i>didn’t disappoint. A coming-of-age story, the novel
follows Arvid, a 12-year-old on holiday in Denmark. Arvid has the
energy and observational skills of young adulthood, and a fair amount of
unbridled longing—for answers, for adventure, for autonomy. There’s a strain of
grief in his family, and Arvid is awakening as a sexual being as well. And
Petterson creates a mood of apprehension and expectation that brings the reader
right along. It’s a remarkable novel.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>The Haunting of Hill House </i>by Shirley Jackson (1959) </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This National Book Award finalist by one of our great
American masters is considered by some to be one of the best ghost stories—if not
the best—written in the 20<sup>th</sup> century. Adaptations abound, such as the
2018 Netflix series. The novel involves the named house, and four main
characters who have arrived to investigate the paranormal activities within. Reportedly,
Jackson was inspired after reading about a group of 19<sup>th</sup> century “psychic
researchers.” The resulting novel is about the house, but it’s really about the
four characters and their pasts, motivations, and relationships. And it’s a spooky
read, one that evokes a mood you won’t soon forget. I read this novel for my
Summer of Houses project, and wrote more about it <a href="http://maryvenselwhite.blogspot.com/2021/06/summer-of-houses-haunting-of-hill-house.html">here</a>.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Klara and the Sun</i> by Kazuo Ishiguro (2021)</p><p class="MsoNormal">I had many thoughts when I finished this new novel by the
acclaimed author of one of my favorite, all-time novels, <i>The Remains of the
Day</i>, but the main one was simple: How did he do that? And by “that,” I
mean, how did Ishiguro manage to write an entire novel from the point of view
of an “Artificial Friend”—an unique and objective persona on the outskirts of
human feeling and insight, and yet, manage to keep this reader enthralled and
entirely engaged? The novel begins in a store, where Klara and the other AFs await
purchase by a family. As she interacts with humans, Klara’s innocence and
moldability act as a mirror in which humanity’s foibles and strengths
materialize. The novel raises existential questions: what does it mean to be
human, to love, to lose ourselves? What are the best parts of being human, and
the worst? And it does all of this while presenting a plot with twists and
turns. I’ll think about this book for a long, long time, and how it reflects
and interacts with Ishiguro’s other books.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZR-IC53rSMWAARmfBQQzgJt_iuwxvh9tjKCvfS9XT-i27b-rpyv2qRoBbyfFehCoOpq00ctfOuvnWUiFsiqf8I_eKRDyaopHaA_-cV6M6-S1EgvREa4tt9kTy6jlLqdmrDsv2I0oRcPL4/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1589" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZR-IC53rSMWAARmfBQQzgJt_iuwxvh9tjKCvfS9XT-i27b-rpyv2qRoBbyfFehCoOpq00ctfOuvnWUiFsiqf8I_eKRDyaopHaA_-cV6M6-S1EgvREa4tt9kTy6jlLqdmrDsv2I0oRcPL4/w133-h200/image.png" width="133" /></a></div><i>Pale Morning Light with Violet Swan</i> by Deborah Reed (2020)<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The more I think about that Petterson novel, the more I
realize I probably left it on my To-Read stack on purpose, waiting for a calm
period of time when I could fully enjoy and absorb it. The same is true for
this novel by Deborah Reed, which I purchased as soon as it came out but waited
for the right time to read. The author and I have been acquainted for some
years; early on, we bonded over our mutual love of Haruf, Petterson, Robinson,
and her writing, for me, lives in the same realm and always touches me on some
visceral level. This novel presents Violet Swan, a ninety-three-year-old artist
in the last chapter of her life. She lives quietly on the second floor
above her only son and his wife, painting abstract, colorful versions of
comfort and calm. But a storm is brewing inside Violet, and the arrival of her beloved
grandson sets in motion a string of events and the unearthing of memories she
has kept hidden most of her life. It’s a stirring novel, full of soul and
purpose and what Ms. Reed’s writing always means to me—that nurturing of an
innate recognition of the feelings and complexity of our lives. This story and
these characters are expertly drawn and continue to walk around in some corner
of my mind.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Almost American Girl </i>by Robin Ha (2020)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Almost American Girl is a memoir that begins with the teen
Robin, whose life in Seoul, Korea, is disrupted when her mother announces a
move to America. She leaves her friends and life behind, abruptly dropped into
a place where she doesn’t speak the language or know the customs. Her
relationship with her mother ruptures and she’s cut off from the world of comics
she enjoyed in Korea. Robin’s story echoes the struggles many immigrants face,
and it makes insightful observations about identity, gender expectations, and the
power of artistic expression. Ha wrote and illustrated the book in muted colors
that reflect her experiences, both in Korea and her new home, and the confusion
of arriving in a foreign place and trying to make connections. If you haven’t dipped
your toe into graphic/illustrated books yet, this would be a great place to
start.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Long Way Down: The Graphic Novel </i>by Jason Reynolds (2020)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP3i7uvS-1kgYOhaoLeWxmUQM5MLmtrriUtVRDZxsTGodIPBYy-j9GWl7us5QxnuqPdKspDeY9rF3baw0id9pXr06ZetLJsZjUh4OmYfhLgJhMeCQBpdq-22QA4t_0aecVMqATSe_Gyrxj/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="248" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP3i7uvS-1kgYOhaoLeWxmUQM5MLmtrriUtVRDZxsTGodIPBYy-j9GWl7us5QxnuqPdKspDeY9rF3baw0id9pXr06ZetLJsZjUh4OmYfhLgJhMeCQBpdq-22QA4t_0aecVMqATSe_Gyrxj/w143-h200/image.png" width="143" /></a></div>Will is a teenager who’s just lost his older brother, Shawn,
to what appears to be a gang shooting. Boys and young men in Will's neighborhood are taught three
rules: No crying, no snitching, and always get revenge. So Will grabs a gun and
sets out to avenge his brother’s death. <i>Long Way Down</i> takes place during the
elevator ride in Will’s building; at each floor, he’s visited by the ghosts of
men lost to gun violence. As they tell their stories and advise Will, he goes
through a rollercoaster of emotions as he decides whether to live by the rules
or not. This graphic novel version is an adaptation of Reynold’s 2017 award-winning
book of the same name, and it’s truly enhanced by Danica Novgorodoff’s
illustrations. She presents watercolor images that bleed through panes and
create an eerie, memorable effect. Another highly recommended entry to the
world of graphic novels, if you’re interested.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And speaking of graphic novels, here are some more recommendations.
I read mostly in the YA and Middle Grade categories, because of the Children’s
Literature class I teach, but I’m looking to expand more into adult offerings
in the new year. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>The Magic Fish</i> by Trung Le Nguyen (2020)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Tien communicates with his Vietnamese immigrant mother through
the fairy tales they read together. She struggles with English, and he struggles
with coming out. This beautifully illustrated novel is touching and lyrical, a
true reading experience.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHBDZ-NhVn6-gt4taef51JpqAzVx0_ORoEyWVn1WqrdUqAkHLButIbt-ZTCNaTurrzionyH9eBnQrBaxZoYedLA2Wpmh1_YmjftmfnkBGIKIW9Iu87DY0a_vs761Swf_Wd7-YJ-PwBhNLO/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="612" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHBDZ-NhVn6-gt4taef51JpqAzVx0_ORoEyWVn1WqrdUqAkHLButIbt-ZTCNaTurrzionyH9eBnQrBaxZoYedLA2Wpmh1_YmjftmfnkBGIKIW9Iu87DY0a_vs761Swf_Wd7-YJ-PwBhNLO/w200-h200/image.png" width="200" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Daytripper </i>by Fabio Moon (2011)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This unique book presents several versions of the life of
Bras de Olivias Deominguez, and several versions of his death. Each chapter
starts at a different point of his life, demonstrating life’s possibilities,
joys and sorrows, and in the end, the tenuousness of existence itself.
Uniquely, brilliantly illustrated.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>American Born Chinese</i> by Gene Luen Yang (2008)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A ground-breaking, acclaimed book that reads like a modern
fable. Three distinct characters come together in unexpected ways in this novel
that touches on Chinese history, immigration, and self-realization. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-34744146985617802292021-09-06T08:10:00.000-07:002021-09-06T08:10:55.662-07:00Summer of Houses: The Yellow House<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhchyrardVvPIeFhHQZfIz1AXRNX1nN8Rh5Ra61H83PixgJ3gw-Y5khwIC17BBXTxE-oreUi9LIMsmuyRfrFNUscWoIarIl7b5sjxAuH2X3sgJLlrHf2pt4QhBU71bTW_jbF4KgNxGiCWjt/s2048/YellowHousePKMech.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1361" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhchyrardVvPIeFhHQZfIz1AXRNX1nN8Rh5Ra61H83PixgJ3gw-Y5khwIC17BBXTxE-oreUi9LIMsmuyRfrFNUscWoIarIl7b5sjxAuH2X3sgJLlrHf2pt4QhBU71bTW_jbF4KgNxGiCWjt/s320/YellowHousePKMech.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">“To be remembered is next to
being loved” –Emily Dickinson</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Often, we'll call books in a range of genres “love letters” to a place. Whether it’s memoir, poetry, fiction, or
even travel writing, this term is used to describe writing that pays homage, fondly,
to a specific point on the globe.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">And what is the best
expression of love, if not being remembered, as so aptly expressed by perhaps
one of our most sentimental poets, Ms. Dickinson. Places from our past can leave indelible impressions, especially when they were shared with the people
and events that have shaped us. <a href="http://maryvenselwhite.blogspot.com/2016/05/the-ordering-of-place.html">I wrote about my grandmother’s house once</a>, and
how—if I close my eyes—I can picture every detail of her house as if I was
there last week. The proportions of the rooms, many of the details of things
like carpet and cupboards and lamps, the quiet and fragrant stillness.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">If remembering was a sport,
perhaps Sarah M. Broom would be an Olympian. <i>The Yellow House</i> is her detailed,
comprehensive love letter to the home where she spent her childhood. She
remembers and remembers and remembers—every hiding place in the house, the
“medium-size hole in the floorboard (of a bathroom) that will eventually become
a large hole letting in more sound and outside creatures,” the smells, the
holiday decorations: “gold garland around the door trim; shiny red paper on the
front door, which served the dual purpose of keeping the draft out and hiding
its ugly tan color.” We see the house through Broom’s eyes as she grows from
childhood to adulthood, the magic along with the state of disrepair stemming
from Hurricane Betsy, which made landfall forty years before Katrina.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote>“The plumbing was never
right. We had buckets underneath the kitchen sink catching dishwater. The
kitchen cabinets had big holes that led to the outside. Mom plugged those holes
with foil after hearing somewhere that rates couldn’t chew through. And still
they did.”</blockquote><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfX9jmjvw3-HYGVnzAVGz8pO8f3LkNrWB_l78luh5BuVXs2sYRZ1KWo1UhVJGos-22CNZb6520Qhkf4sNRKr8fL4JbfqcqaBuDTrdElxaceN4rRI6Vk5RvI9b3wNUBxa4bRLh4gQeNoavQ/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="360" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfX9jmjvw3-HYGVnzAVGz8pO8f3LkNrWB_l78luh5BuVXs2sYRZ1KWo1UhVJGos-22CNZb6520Qhkf4sNRKr8fL4JbfqcqaBuDTrdElxaceN4rRI6Vk5RvI9b3wNUBxa4bRLh4gQeNoavQ/w200-h200/image.png" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 12pt;">So the house is the thing,
and in the introduction, she lets the reader know the significance of those
four walls.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote>“Before it was the Yellow
House, the only house I knew, it was a green house, the house my eleven
siblings knew. The facts of the world before me inform, give shape and context
to my own life. The Yellow House was witness to our lives. When it fell down,
something in me burst.”</blockquote><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">But Broom’s remembering isn’t
confined to this building and its details. She remembers all who lived in it.
She describes each of her siblings and their manner of speaking and dress. Throughout
the memoir, she reaches for understanding and recollections of her father, who
died when she was a baby. Often, she shares family photographs and describes
what they are reflecting—things we can see, and things we can’t. She remembers
events outside the walls of the Yellow House; this family history spans back one
hundred years and takes into account the changes afoot in New Orleans, America,
the world. As I said, it’s very comprehensive and at times, this avalanche of
details feels heavy for the reader. But there's a lulling reverence to it as
well, a power. In an interview for The Atlantic, Broom talked about the
difficulties she had with publishers, because of this inclusiveness of topics
and the breadth of memories:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote>“’The main complaint was that
I needed to choose,’ … ‘that I was either going to write a book about New
Orleans or a book about my family, but not both—which was so confounding to me
that I couldn’t even process it.’"<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></blockquote><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Broom’s memories start with
the house, and everything is tied to it. How do we order memory, or separate,
cleanly, one thing from another? For the author, place and people and events
intertwine and stay that way. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: 12pt;">“I thought then and still
think now: when a person dies in a place they become the place and nothing is
ever the same again.”</span></blockquote><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Of course, Hurricane Katrina was
for Broom’s family—as it was for many—a seismic, devastating event. The Yellow
House is destroyed, and the family spreads out. Just as Broom’s mother, Ivory
Mae, scraped and fought to keep “the only house I ever knew,”
the author returns after Katrina and tries to get some reimbursement for the
house, the ruins of which were hauled away without notice by the city.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">My Summer of Houses reading
project concludes with this gorgeous and accomplished memoir, which deserves every bit of the
National Book Award it received. It’s a book that certainly presents a
memorable and notable house, one that looms at the center of this author's story. <i>The Yellow House</i> is a a touching expression of love, an examination of the ways
places can reach our very depths, clinging like vines on a wall, and surrounding
everything.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>Mary Vensel Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04003713103998299286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-37987421491385741962021-08-17T11:17:00.001-07:002021-08-17T11:17:37.393-07:00Summer of Houses: Deathless<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjPlnw3GeVNU61uFCBvRPSXBq_YUSHMedlGFV5KF3Ty251e1e7F1kbuaNEHa8l-xqGA8HlWmOtxbkstRDIR02KLI2iD3k5SlOwzsS0etiyuFBHDlxTqSxM3s1DsE7S0RYA9LrNcKql13IU/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1360" data-original-width="880" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjPlnw3GeVNU61uFCBvRPSXBq_YUSHMedlGFV5KF3Ty251e1e7F1kbuaNEHa8l-xqGA8HlWmOtxbkstRDIR02KLI2iD3k5SlOwzsS0etiyuFBHDlxTqSxM3s1DsE7S0RYA9LrNcKql13IU/w207-h320/image.png" width="207" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="margin-left: 1.25in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span> </span><span> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">You enter here, in helmet and greatcoat,<br />Chasing after her, without a mask.<br />You, Ivanushka of the old tales,<br />What ails you today?<br />So much bitterness in your every word<br />So much darkness in your love<br />And why does this stream of blood<br />Disturb the petal of your cheek?<br /><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>-<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Anna Akhmatova</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Throughout her novel, <i>Deathless</i>, Catherynne M. Valente
sprinkles excerpts from poems by the great Russan poet, Anna Akhmatova. One of
the best known and most prolific of Russian writers, Akhmatova lived from 1889
to 1966, experiencing both prerevolutionary and Soviet Russia. She writes here about a stock character in Russian folklore, Ivanushka. A
simpleminded but lucky young man, Ivanushka is described as amiable, with blue
eyes. The details of his family and station vary from tale to tale, but he is
always portrayed as someone who leads with his heart over his head. He’s naïve but
kind, sometimes considered a fool but often misjudged by those around him.
He’s not always what he seems to be. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I said in an earlier post that this novel is perhaps the
biggest stretch for my summer reading theme: houses. Yes, there’s a house, and
it makes somewhat of an impression. <i>Deathless </i>opens with this:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“In a city by the sea which was once called St. Petersburg,
then Petrograd, then Leningrad, then, much later, St. Petersburg again, there
stood a long, thin house on a long, thin street. By the long, thin window, a
child in a pale blue dress and pale green slippers waited for a bird to marry
her.”</span></blockquote><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Well, actually, the novel begins with a short scene in which
a young boy is questioned and then released by a pair of military officers. He’s
only eleven, but he’s accused of desertion. Three “skinny, molting
creatures” (birds) watch from a nearby branch. This scene is followed by the
first of the Akhmatova quotes, a poem about a faceless visitor, a riddle, and a
wanderer in darkness. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">My point is, from the start, the stage is set for everything
this remarkable novel aims to do: say something about the history of Russia, particularly throughout the twentieth century, recycle certain characters,
tropes and stories from the vast landscape of Russian folklore, and tell a lyrically moody,
visceral and exciting tale. And like the folk staple Ivanushka, things are not always what they seem. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The novel focuses on Marya Morevna, the girl in the
pale blue dress. For years, she has watched as her sisters were claimed for
marriage by men who arrive as birds but transform into handsome young men
before whisking away their brides. And so, she waits for her bird. When he
comes, he’s handsome, all right, but his name is Koschei the Deathless, another
figure from Russian folklore whose main characteristic is his inability to be
killed.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">And the house? The one Marya has been living in, before
leaving with Koschei, has a tendency to expand and there are little domovoi, or
house-goblins, about. And once she escapes with her bird-suitor to the Isle of
Buyan, there are other strange features in the new world she inhabits, other strange,
house phenomena:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: helvetica;">“The main thing was the ruin of her house, like film laid on
top of other film, so that she could look at a wall and see not only the wall
but Svetlana Tikhonovna and her mother arguing over laundry in front of it, and
Zemlehyed pawing at it, and the skin of a Buyan wall, so far from her. Everywhere
her vision doubled and trebled, and her head sagged with the weight of it.
Everything kept occurring all at once, each thing on top of the last.”</span></blockquote><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvHewKZ_m56Ftxnz6hNMdjWMW6U8HGdhTqddXdbEkbaZRgrK9ct3ugDmDZzH6dM070BFOpFt672Uu6xhX7zpnzI-Wao3BLcxzmC7sDnhksZhtAGu0F1NdhkPZR83-uHnIWpDj0d5R9TuT/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="221" data-original-width="228" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvHewKZ_m56Ftxnz6hNMdjWMW6U8HGdhTqddXdbEkbaZRgrK9ct3ugDmDZzH6dM070BFOpFt672Uu6xhX7zpnzI-Wao3BLcxzmC7sDnhksZhtAGu0F1NdhkPZR83-uHnIWpDj0d5R9TuT/w200-h194/image.png" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: helvetica;"></span></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;">This novel draws from Russian folklore, with its dark
imagery and themes. It’s not a book for children. I will admit that from time
to time, the book was a riddle, as promised by Valente in that early Akhmatova poem. I had some trouble following certain relationships and twists of plot. It felt like
things were happening, all at once, each thing on top of the last. And although the novel is strong in folkloric roots and fantastical elements, Valente draws complex characters; the development of Marya’s
character was probably my favorite aspect. She changes from an innocent girl to
Koschei’s frightened concubine and eventually, his wife. A major part of the story here
is the sexy and ultimately, tragic love affair between them. The book has been
compared to Bulgakov’s <i>The Master and Margarita</i>, and at the time of its release
in 2011, the AV Club said “<i>Deathless</i> does for Russia what Susanna Clarke’s
<i>Jonathan Strange & Mr Norell</i> does for England.” I can see where the book
fits somewhere between these two, and yet, is something entirely different and
unique, too.</span></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">As we run out of summer days, one book remains for my Summer
of Houses reading project. I’ll be diving into Sarah M. Broom’s memoir, <i>The
Yellow House</i>, next. I do love a book with a map at the start, and Broom starts
hers with an outline of New Orleans, where the notable house she writes about lives.</span><o:p></o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-74012861634834559032021-07-20T15:06:00.001-07:002021-07-20T15:06:41.459-07:00Summer of Houses: White is for Witching<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggcQzBg8syuH0ex5cqyokAgSmKGFLsiyIqsd0oGcPR4wGrukRcvHnKBuFq8sAVVsuYipF9ghw5H9FS91X0KAktDzEPS_3ULHHxPlaRPF-ZPm0o3aT3dgauMAXsPzQMvBP585WrhK56PW0F/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="288" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggcQzBg8syuH0ex5cqyokAgSmKGFLsiyIqsd0oGcPR4wGrukRcvHnKBuFq8sAVVsuYipF9ghw5H9FS91X0KAktDzEPS_3ULHHxPlaRPF-ZPm0o3aT3dgauMAXsPzQMvBP585WrhK56PW0F/" width="154" /></a></div><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">My second read for my summer of houses reading project is Helen Oyeyemi’s <i>White
is For Witching</i>. As I mentioned in my previous post, Oyeyemi’s writing has been compared to Shirley Jackson’s,
and for the gothic tone and the way she builds an eerie sense of uneasiness and
foreboding, I would agree. Yet this novel is less straightforward than <i>The
Haunting of Hill House</i>; it’s circular in structure and at times it’s difficult
to gain footing in the narrative. The writing is trancelike, lulling the reader
in, and our guides are unreliable on many levels. But where <i>Hill House</i>
follows a linear trajectory that repeats wording from the beginning at the
finish, and draws to close with the characters firmly ending their association
with <i>that</i> house, <i>White is for Witching</i> feels like it leaves off
where it starts, with each character tied by tangible or intangible tethers to
the place where the trouble began—or at least, the space within four walls
where they experienced it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Oyeyemi’s novel tells the story of the Silver family house
in Dover, England, and the four generations of women who have lived there. Our
main character is Miranda, or Miri, who has moved to the house her mother, Lily,
inherited, when her father decides the family should return to live there and
turn it into a bed and breakfast. Miri and her twin brother, Eliot, are ten,
and their first glimpse of the house is innocuous:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">“Our new house had two big brown grids of windows with a row
of brick in between each grid. No windows for the attic. From the outside the windows
didn’t look as if they could be opened, they didn’t look as if they were there
to let air or light in, they were funny square eyes, friendly, tired.”</span></blockquote><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Sounds nice! But soon, reader is told of the steps leading
up to the house, which “bulged with fist-sized lumps of grey-white flint, each
piece a knife to cut your knee should you slip.” Out in the garden, there is an
Andersen shelter for air raids, and another shelter under a trapdoor in the
floor of the sitting room. As they tour their new home, Eliot calls it a “wicked
house,” and Miri thinks it’s “magic;” from that moment, we know their ensuing
experiences will dramatically diverge.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Miri’s room was darker than mine, even before she took to
keeping her curtains drawn at all times and Lily started calling her room ‘the
psychomantium.’”</span></blockquote><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYZ2Zpe2pZBh2I6nv3yhl5a3YJ6DFUa0kYzUbdVYQvU1idPY79U9iUhvcrtKDnyPT_g84prrjCqeE77Q70vAL_mrIqtRiP54Nntx8myFAmnHtU7XTipLdbhkmfiy24yBSFYQGrU5Ua9jJ5/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYZ2Zpe2pZBh2I6nv3yhl5a3YJ6DFUa0kYzUbdVYQvU1idPY79U9iUhvcrtKDnyPT_g84prrjCqeE77Q70vAL_mrIqtRiP54Nntx8myFAmnHtU7XTipLdbhkmfiy24yBSFYQGrU5Ua9jJ5/" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Now, if you’re like me and can tell this isn’t a good sign
but have to look up things like “Andersen shelter” and “psychomantium,” I give
you this: “A psychomanteum is a room set aside with a chair, dim lighting, and
an angled mirror, for communication with those who have died.”</span><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">So it’s Miri who is most affected by the house. She, and her
mother before her, and her mother, Jennifer, and her mother, Miranda’s
great-grandmother, Anna. And the house tells the reader much of the history of
the previous generations. Those four POVs I mentioned? One is the house itself,
and it speaks in an authoritative but often meandering way. From the start, the
Silver house claims a sense of power over the proceedings within. And like the
other POVs in the novel—Miri’s, Eliot’s, and Miri’s lover, Ore—we often don’t
know how much to trust anyone (or thing).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Especially Miri, and her perspective. When the present
action of the story begins, she has just been discharged from a “clinic.” She
is dangerously thin and has a condition called pica, which I’d wager appears
much more in novels than it does in real life, but which certainly
does lend a creepy aura. Miri struggles with eating and her condition means
that she eats things that aren’t food, like plastic and chalk. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Miranda had been admitted to the clinic because one morning
Eliot had found her wordless and thoughtful. It had been a long night, a
perfect full moon tugging the sky around it into clumsy wrinkles. Miranda had
been bleeding slightly from the scalp and her wrists were bound together with
extreme dexterity and thin braids of her own hair.”</span></blockquote><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">We’re aware of the presence of something, someone, in the
house, in addition to the immediate Silver family. How would Miri have bound
her own wrists? Are the visions she sees real, or part of the reason for her
visit to the clinic?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I will admit, I struggled with the novel at first. These shifting
perspectives, in which you are doubting veracity, timeframe, the intrusion of
sinister, non-human forces, and sanity itself—well, it could be hard to follow
what was happening sometimes. And I suppose what I’m about to say makes a certain
sense… but the house doesn’t always communicate clearly. Here’s a passage from
the house POV:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">“But Anna Good couldn’t hear me.
When she closed me up again it was only because she was too cold. Most nights
she went with the moon, and when it was round she stayed in my biggest bedroom
and wouldn’t answer the<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">thing that asked her to let it
out<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">(let you out from where?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">let me out from the small, the
hot, the take me out of the fire i am ready i am hard like the stones you ate,
bitter like those husks)”</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I grew to like the sections from the house’s perspective; key
information was relayed, albeit in this often ambiguous way. When Miri leaves
for Cambridge at the close of Part One, I was worried about the loss of this POV.
But this is when Ore’s perspective crystallizes, in Part Two, titled “And Curiouser.”
And this is, in fact, when I feel the novel reached its peak pace and heightened
interest. To this point, we have always doubted Miri’s thoughts, but this is
when the story of her and her family seems to fade under the presence of bigger,
dark forces. Just what/who is Ore? What is the nature of her relationship with
Miri, and how does this new connection factor into the story of the Silver
family? And who, exactly, is stabbing people at Cambridge? One concentric pattern
emerges when Ore comes back to see Miri at the house.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: georgia;">“I took the stairs—Miranda had told me that it was only a
flight up to hers and Eliot’s rooms. It seemed more like four. But in an
unfamiliar house, when you’re uncertain where you’re going, every movement is
prolonged by the sense that you’re going to try the wrong door or get in
someone’s way.”</span></blockquote><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Through Ore’s perspective, we, too, recenter and reassess
the situation with the Silver family in that old house. I wish I could say that everything becomes
clear at this point, but <i>White is for Witching</i> is the type of book you’d
probably do well to pick up right when you finish and give it a second go. It’s
a moody, scintillating and, at times—challenging read. Oyeyemi’s novel fully
fills my criteria for my summer reading project, because the Silver
house-turned-bed-and-breakfast is a force to be reckoned with in this unique,
startlingly written novel. </span><o:p></o:p></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-25997827305632444572021-06-10T07:33:00.001-07:002021-06-10T07:33:50.696-07:00Summer of Houses: The Haunting of Hill House<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKC6bQLITESaIkNbM3oxywH-ToKVbFdg3tWYZ226itG1J82gWaHFNNc8gMTm_GL11VECSF3KsXvFnTsTIPoYWfPCU05prScWrUHc2oO3NaA-EEiFznVa2eZZLex96nn45rSZELOXslt2as/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="686" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKC6bQLITESaIkNbM3oxywH-ToKVbFdg3tWYZ226itG1J82gWaHFNNc8gMTm_GL11VECSF3KsXvFnTsTIPoYWfPCU05prScWrUHc2oO3NaA-EEiFznVa2eZZLex96nn45rSZELOXslt2as/" width="214" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Reading a book that scores of people rave about always comes
with a sense of anticipation. At least, it does for me, because I’m of the mind
that scores of people usually aren’t entirely wrong. Even if I don’t end up
raving about the book myself, I usually find some reasons for the mass appeal.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">In the case of Shirley Jackson’s <i>The Haunting of Hill
House</i>, I find myself among the ravers. What Jackson does with
characterization, with point of view, with mood—is simply masterful.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Four strangers arrive at an old, creepy house, one at a
time. Three have been enlisted by Dr. Montague, an occult scholar, to help identify
evidence of the supernatural in Hill House, which has a tragic past and has been
the subject of rumors amongst the townspeople for decades. From the moment the
house comes into view, it becomes a character with a sense of agency:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">“This house, which seemed somehow to have formed itself,
flying together into its own powerful pattern under the hands of its builders,
fitting itself into its own construction of lines and angles, reared its great
head back against the sky without concession to humanity.” </span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Throughout the story, the house continues to have a life and
intent of its own. Noises rise from nowhere; doors close on their own accord. Part
of its disregard for humanity lies in the construction itself. Dimensions are
wrong (“the walls seemed always in one direction a fraction longer than the eye
could endure”) and the floorplan is like a maze. Once our four protagonists are
inside, they have a hard time finding their way around in this “masterpiece of
architectural misdirection,” as Dr. Montague calls it. They constantly feel
disoriented. These descriptions of the house, along with the convoluted things
the characters think and say, keep the reader feeling as they do: confused and
claustrophobic. How Jackson achieves this consistent mood, the lack of equilibrium
the reader experiences—I have no idea. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">As for characterization, each of the four instantly inspire
our interest and curiosity. Did I mention the wit and dry humor in this novel?
Here is how two characters are introduced:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: arial;">“Luke Sanderson was a liar. He was also a thief. His aunt,
who was the owner of Hill House, was fond of pointing out that her nephew had
the best education, the best clothes, the best taste, and the worst companions
of anyone she had ever known.”</span></blockquote><p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">And</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: arial;">“Eleanor Vance was thirty-two years old when she came to
Hill House. The only person in the world she genuinely hated, now that her
mother was dead, was her sister. She disliked her brother-in-law and her
five-year-old niece, and she had no friends.” </span></blockquote><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Eleanor becomes our guide; it is through her point of view
that we experience the unusual events of Hill House. But from the beginning,
the reader can’t be sure about Eleanor. She is socially awkward and emotional. Constantly
in her own head, Eleanor reprimands herself, makes up stories and recites
maxims and lines from songs to herself. Another dimension arises with the
appearance of the fourth main character, Theodora. With their alliterative
names and similar ages, the two young women are meant to be presented in
comparison to each other. Unlike Eleanora, who saw the invitation to Hill House
as an escape from her life, Theodora arrives after a rash decision, with little
thought. Or does she? The women establish a banter from the start, and their
uneasy friendship leaves us wondering—as we wonder about the house—which way is
up.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The characters settle in and being to explore the house and
follow the strict dining routine set up by the housekeeper, another eccentric
and eerie character, Mrs. Dudley. And as expected, strange things begin to
happen. We aren’t sure of anything, especially the characters themselves, and
the book escalates to a thrilling conclusion that seems completely expected and
yet, I hadn’t fully seen it coming.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">So, I’d say the raves are justified. It’s a great read, a
book I finished in a few sittings and enjoyed from the first page to the last. The
Haunting of Hill House requires a second reading, and perhaps a third, because
Jackson has woven such an alluring and layered web. It is the perfect start to
my Summer of Houses reading project, as it features what is perhaps one of the most famous
literary houses, one that certainly demands attention in the story: </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: arial;">“Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness
within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more.”</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-65576472894410307862021-06-01T10:26:00.000-07:002021-06-01T10:26:17.595-07:00Summer Reading Project, 2021<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikSZlxF1NjX00mJGTwnikFdDWN5uNyJPZjX1cyVf_SBK-v-FTKj2qmOmxs0agojGXIwqfobfIPdd9Ij8uF3-Wn52I_AMxitbS07de6Zm5aIGjmBnofvNtVzhy3VvyK6zgH2FTHIFjPG7ZI/s241/image.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikSZlxF1NjX00mJGTwnikFdDWN5uNyJPZjX1cyVf_SBK-v-FTKj2qmOmxs0agojGXIwqfobfIPdd9Ij8uF3-Wn52I_AMxitbS07de6Zm5aIGjmBnofvNtVzhy3VvyK6zgH2FTHIFjPG7ZI/s241/image.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGneDLAmOgAR67BKfwkTvHT3G0RP5DBpkk6eCk0xkJpAD7_GlhRbiIEApEebIPNrK4WlhUUScinKsVh3qQAWUSicHQwkkarwdmbNUCEkOo-C7R7DSQx5673TICI0yYfOB0dNSriONw87c6/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="181" data-original-width="278" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGneDLAmOgAR67BKfwkTvHT3G0RP5DBpkk6eCk0xkJpAD7_GlhRbiIEApEebIPNrK4WlhUUScinKsVh3qQAWUSicHQwkkarwdmbNUCEkOo-C7R7DSQx5673TICI0yYfOB0dNSriONw87c6/" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Recently, I moved to a new home. Throughout my life, I have lived in
close to two dozen dwellings; this latest is notable for being the first home
purchased on my own. Houses matter quite a bit to some people, don’t they? Our
sense of success and achievement, our identity, even a sense of inner peace—all
can be influenced by the particular four walls we find ourselves within. To me,
moving isn’t the dramatic affair it is for many. As I get older, the mechanics of
it certainly have become more arduous but I’ve always enjoyed a new perspective,
new surroundings. Having lived in so many homes, I find that some stand out and
others fade from memory, and this isn’t always connected to the length of time
spent in the place. Some homes have an unforgettable quality that plants them
firmly in the consciousness, some are more beloved because of the events that
occurred while living there, and some take on a dark hue for the same reason.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">For some fiction writers, a story begins with setting, and
houses often become a starting point. In creative writing, houses can be an
important element, rising up to assert their presence alongside other, human characters.
Perhaps you’re already thinking of a book that features a house as an ominous,
reassuring, steadfast, or other type of entity. Here are some I won’t be
reading this summer, either because I’ve already read them, or because I chose
otherwise:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The House of the Spirit</i>s by Isabel Allende<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>A Man Called Ove</i> by Fredrik Backman<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The Secret Garden</i> by Frances Hodgson Burnett<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Room</i> by Emma Donoghue<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>House of Sand and Fog</i> by Andre Dubus III<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Rebecca</i> by Daphne Du Maurier<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The Great Gatsby</i> by F. Scott Fitzgerald<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The Turner House</i> by Angela Flournoy<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The Past</i> by Tessa Hadley<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="font-family: verdana;">The Remains of the Day</i><span style="font-family: verdana;"> by Kazuo Ishiguro</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>We Have Always Lived in the Castle</i> by Shirley Jackson<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The Hundred-Year House</i> by Rebecca Makkai<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Housekeeping</i> by Marilynne Robinson<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The Door</i> by Magda Szabo<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Yes, I know there are many more! These are some that were mentioned
or occurred to me. Please do comment with your favorite books that feature a
notable house. My first novel would certainly fall into this category, that
story about a young couple sorting through the belongings inside an old,
country house. And certainly my next novel, <i>Starling</i> (coming soon!), has much to say about homes and how they can comfort and confine.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">What is my purpose for ruminating about houses in books?
Faithful readers of this blog know that over the summer months, I become happily
obsessed with a theme. Two years ago, I read books all about trees and last
summer while we were shut down, I read books connected to France in some
way. For 2021, my reading project will be <b>Summer of Houses</b>, books that feature
a house as a key element. I have chosen four, which I’ll read in the order
shown. As always, I welcome readers who would like to join in! My choices are:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMyXwiJSloZoF2ZRHJGBjgjHbbb2vcJBYfCryo-gzg9dzO_NK3W5i8X8Vb8s3swQ8svOqdCIRlEe8dYSlP-JMAPH17wK0zV4jAsYiOmTTp-b1UbVYDQZiXB3ZjMWge_Ffk9w7wt7rzi3ZD/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMyXwiJSloZoF2ZRHJGBjgjHbbb2vcJBYfCryo-gzg9dzO_NK3W5i8X8Vb8s3swQ8svOqdCIRlEe8dYSlP-JMAPH17wK0zV4jAsYiOmTTp-b1UbVYDQZiXB3ZjMWge_Ffk9w7wt7rzi3ZD/" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The Haunting of Hill House</i> by Shirley Jackson<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It could be said that my entire summer theme started here,
with this well-known book I’ve never read! You may know it from the 2018
Netflix series, but if you don’t know the novel, join me in reading this classic
written by a force of nature, Shirley Jackson. Published in 1959, it’s the
story of four protagonists who arrive at Hill House, seeking evidence of its
haunted nature. They get that, and much more.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>White is for Witching</i> by Helen Oyeyemi<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The house in question in this 2009 novel is Silver
House, a family home now converted to a bed-and-breakfast in Dover, England. The
house has always been occupied by generations of Silver women like Miranda, who
begins to suffer strange ailments after the death of her mother. The book is
hailed as “boldly original, terrifying, and elegant,” and its author is often
compared to Shirley Jackson so it’s the perfect follow-up to my first choice.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Deathless</i> by Catherynne M. Valente<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">This book is a less obvious choice for my theme, but one
that jumped out to me when scouring lists. Marya Morevna watches from the
window of her upper middle-class home in Saint Petersburg as suitors arrive for
her sisters. But the suitors are first birds who transform before her eyes into
men. This 2011 novel combines the Russian fairy tale, "The Death of Koschei the
Deathless," with the events and aftermath of the Russian Revolution, in what the
publisher calls “a collision of magical history and actual history, of revolution
and mythology, of love and death.” I’m very excited about this read.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The Yellow House</i> by Sarah M. Broom<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">This memoir, winner of the 2019 National Book Award in
Nonfiction, is ambitious in its scope: it spans one hundred years of the author’s
family history and relationship to their home in New Orleans. The Yellow House
magnifies a segment of the city unseen in tourist guides “to demonstrate how
enduring drives of clan, pride, and familial love resist and defy erasure”
through natural disasters, class inequality, and other challenges. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">As always, I’ll be posting to report on my progress. In the
meantime, enjoy your summer, your own reading choices for the warmer months,
and the comfort of your current dwelling.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-31543209428328816912021-04-04T10:44:00.000-07:002021-04-04T10:44:34.678-07:00Stories and Memories, Flashes and Forms<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZRbshUWZtzMVq-vimyld-BqHJB84_G0IRTk2rqwnH0MHWKs9CbTxNjH8VZjmBdxhtph2v3AXi4Zsi3gOsj62Kdy0BBeCYh-Ix6tIG5C4wxFxEnHDYBFj4Q543ziNDJs0WGjANE9Sbq3Zj/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="276" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZRbshUWZtzMVq-vimyld-BqHJB84_G0IRTk2rqwnH0MHWKs9CbTxNjH8VZjmBdxhtph2v3AXi4Zsi3gOsj62Kdy0BBeCYh-Ix6tIG5C4wxFxEnHDYBFj4Q543ziNDJs0WGjANE9Sbq3Zj/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;">When I wrote
my second novel, <i>Bellflower</i>, I was thinking about the end of a life, making
sense of events and memories. I had seen loved ones lose their sense of time and place. At the end of my grandmother's life, she sometimes thought my mother was her sister; once, she asked about a place she hadn’t been
for decades. I was contemplating that phrase—"her life flashed before her eyes"—and
imagining the flashes of memory that might be playing on the screen of my
grandmother’s mind during those last weeks of her life.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><i>Bellflower </i>is a “novel-in-moments,” the story of three families told in
interconnecting flashes from their lives. The method is not unlike a
novel-in-stories, books like <i>Olive Kitteridge</i> and <i>The Things They Carried</i>, and
a novel that was one of the fundamentals for me as a youngish undergraduate:
<i>Winesburg, Ohio. </i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><i><br /></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;">If life is but a series of moments we’ll remember in flashes near our end, why shouldn’t memoir take a
variety of inconsistent forms? Reader, it does! And for the past several years,
I’ve been seeking out both novels and memoirs that experiment with methods of
storytelling. Often, the line between genres is blurry, or filtered through a
questionable lens. As memory itself is. There are novels that seem to be hardly
veiled autobiography, memoirs so considered in their creative
approach that they seem only partially true. Writers attempting to make some
sense of their own life (or to distill and express some of what they’ve
experienced into a fictional story) stretch, process, and create, and the
myriad of forms for memoirs (and novels) continues to expand like the colorful
feathers of a peacock’s tail.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">A
few such books made my list of <a href="http://maryvenselwhite.blogspot.com/2020/12/favorite-reads-2020.html">Favorite Reads, 2020</a>—things like <i><span style="background: white;">Late Migrations: A Natural History of
Love and Loss</span></i><span style="background: white;"> by
Margaret Renkl, a memoir that imbues the natural world into Renkl’s mediations
on life, love, and grief, and <i>Department of Speculation</i> by Jenny
Offill, a novel that reads like a series of journal entries (basically,
a memoir). But you can read about those at the link.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">Here are some recent reads.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><i>Constellations, </i>by Sinead Gleason, is a study of
the female body in general and specifically, it’s about Gleason’s body—illnesses, losses, and other physical changes and experiences. By telling the story of her corporeal self, she explores the intangibles of her "self."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
topics in this collection of essays vary as much as the methods
Gleason employs writing them. She writes about things like pregnancy and
breastfeeding, leukemia and blood transfusions, hair and loss. Despite a
lifetime of bodily trials, an appreciation for the body—with all of its
imperfections—emerges.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilDCp44thmsh8K-o5S6bpZ6bFIp5uLwFAHWKs-j0-WQnikXN6GrOWqo4uehWZ1OnS6-dhvp-8YPbDdnnofoRv4bWJbokCRzLAUckJM2qEZx-b-GkWvQm7adAMTg6cgmVnCuNQSqxr1Afm7/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="612" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilDCp44thmsh8K-o5S6bpZ6bFIp5uLwFAHWKs-j0-WQnikXN6GrOWqo4uehWZ1OnS6-dhvp-8YPbDdnnofoRv4bWJbokCRzLAUckJM2qEZx-b-GkWvQm7adAMTg6cgmVnCuNQSqxr1Afm7/" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><i>Wife / Daughter / Self: A Memoir in Essays,</i> by
Beth Kephart, is bold where form is concerned, a read that feels very accurately
like being dropped directly into someone’s consciousness. In sections that
consider her relation to her husband and her widowed father, Kephart contemplates
how these relationships have contributed to her life and development. Often,
the result is unflinching. Uncomfortable questions are posed; self-doubt and questions
remain as much as answers are found. There is little continuity in form from one section to the next and often,
following the thread of Kephart’s thoughts requires a fair amount of effort.
There are whole sections told in dialogue, lyrical passages brimming with
visceral details, short, pointed revelations that sometimes feel apropos of
nothing. As I said, it reads, perhaps, similar to how the mind functions: circuitry firing
away, colors and light, flashes of a life.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><i>The Suicide Index,</i> by Joan Wickersham, is a
memoir centered around the suicide committed by the author’s father. She
recounts memories and attempts to make some sense of this incomprehensible
loss. This searing look at a particular brand of grief is touching,
contemplative, and strikes universal chords about love and loss.<span style="color: #333a42;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background: white; color: #333a42; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background-color: white;">Would you like more reading suggestions in this vein? Check out this recent Lithub post, "<a href="https://lithub.com/7-autobiographies-and-memoirs-that-remind-us-of-the-messiness-of-memory/?fbclid=IwAR2xr69LY2on-VKA29eb8o9h3KuEKnndErn64tZiJ3kivBTFDSMcnx9DtVo">7 Autobiographies and Memoirs That Remind Us of the Messiness of Memory</a>."</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background-color: white;">And watch this space for information about my summer reading project for 2021. Regular readers may recall that each summer, I choose a theme and build a reading list around it. Last summer, I read books tied together by association with France, and in 2019, I learned an awful lot about trees. Here's a hint about the focus of my reading for this summer, in the form of a quote from the first book I'll read:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><span style="background-color: white;">"No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are suppose, by some, to dream."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 375.0pt;"><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-10695949360098054912020-12-21T11:13:00.000-08:002020-12-21T11:13:33.543-08:00Favorite Reads, 2020<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6wmzB6JImZnGNbclObGLRHA7pVoV07zTaSmWfAlwSoZi3CDvUz-RuIgj4AYqYCFStibN6nTQiaIIKetpnzvnj_HrZI8h6C1U1UufexO2fRg9Zhyphenhyphen3zOCPjeTNyOhDp7cMwplrdVTX85c_1/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="193" data-original-width="261" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6wmzB6JImZnGNbclObGLRHA7pVoV07zTaSmWfAlwSoZi3CDvUz-RuIgj4AYqYCFStibN6nTQiaIIKetpnzvnj_HrZI8h6C1U1UufexO2fRg9Zhyphenhyphen3zOCPjeTNyOhDp7cMwplrdVTX85c_1/" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">What can we say about 2020 that hasn’t been already said
(and continues to be said, as we fight our way through the dregs of it)? Well,
how about…I read more books this year! There’s one
positive outcome. Through this endless expanse of homebound months, I read 44
books, up from 30 last year. In my finished pile this year: 29 novels, 4 short
story collections, 5 memoirs, 3 poetry collections, and one autobiography. Last
year, I said I wanted to read more biographies this year, which I did not do,
and more young adult fiction, which—in part, thanks to my teaching job—I did.
It should be noted that one of the books I read this year was a graphic novel,
and I expect to have that as a new category in 2021, considering the
eagerly anticipated stack on my shelf right now. I also expect to continue
reading memoirs in the coming year, particularly those that experiment with
form. From time to time, I work on my own strange-form
memoir. And I’m beginning to formulate my summer reading project, which will
have something to do with place as character—specifically, with houses. If you
favor a book in which a house is one of the main characters, kindly send me
your recommendation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">So many of the books I read in 2020 struck a deeply personal
chord with me. Perhaps my antennae were open and receiving to emotionality
during this unprecedented year; perhaps those were the type of reads that
caught my eye and attention. In the end, it doesn’t matter. So many books were
a balm for me this year. Of my ten favorite reads, most had some sort of
autobiography or memoir element, whether it be direct, poetic, auto-fictional, or something else. As always, I enjoy
reads that inspire contemplations about genre although in the end, it doesn’t really
matter. Feeling in writing is what breaks through, at least for me. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">In no
particular order, my favorite reads of the year:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMUCmcwMOmaP0ZU8x5y55bf3-9PNvFm81e65ZNuHCcPlwdjWxWHhf6e4Uzho1ZH_yuzPRn2YubidGzbyH7XmQ6aojqG7Hzoqb2Tb4wYMSaUEhUQwezGtlI-pqj7205Ol4JZXbO7NeAGHKR/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="310" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMUCmcwMOmaP0ZU8x5y55bf3-9PNvFm81e65ZNuHCcPlwdjWxWHhf6e4Uzho1ZH_yuzPRn2YubidGzbyH7XmQ6aojqG7Hzoqb2Tb4wYMSaUEhUQwezGtlI-pqj7205Ol4JZXbO7NeAGHKR/w124-h200/image.png" width="124" /></a></span></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><b><o:p><span> </span></o:p><i>Glen Rock Book of the Dead</i> by Marion Winik (2010)</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">After a discussion about writing memoir, my friend and
colleague (thanks, Jessica!) said I would love this slim memoir, and I did. In
chronological order throughout short chapters, Winik reminisces about people
she has known who died. Each section is titled (i.e. The Eye Doctor,
The Bon Vivant, The Graduate); some are people quite close to her and some are
known through others. All left an imprint on her and as she writes about these
losses, much more is revealed about Winik herself, life in general, and the
times we live in. A unique, surprising—and ultimately, touching read.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><b><i>Department of Speculation</i> by Jenny Offill (2014)</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">This novel reads like a series of journal entries, short observations
from the point of view of a mother, a wife. When the marriage falters due to an
infidelity, she retraces the events of their relationship, trying to find a way
forward. She talks about the isolation and fulfillment of motherhood, and about
striving for a creative life amidst life’s demands. She notices patterns and
brings up things she’s read and learned, all in a concentrated effort to make sense of
life, her life. I loved this book. Like the best poetry, I often wanted to take
my eyes from the page after reading a section and lean back, enjoying the
ripples of association. Another unique, contemplative and beautiful read.</span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"></p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><b><i>The Carrying</i> by Ada <span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">Limón</span></b></span><p></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI936bDeaDd4lviwdNm-iVcRYix0DOuNhuQqhTf-ga2rULswu-uCGeyTshI8kTPtd_eVwP4vd9och86UgnHnMwQZpITFai0TwRW7IFo6x3e7wqOEht1cvENDWEsVbruXC9C0IrdIvxeoAd/s400/thecarrying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="259" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI936bDeaDd4lviwdNm-iVcRYix0DOuNhuQqhTf-ga2rULswu-uCGeyTshI8kTPtd_eVwP4vd9och86UgnHnMwQZpITFai0TwRW7IFo6x3e7wqOEht1cvENDWEsVbruXC9C0IrdIvxeoAd/w129-h200/thecarrying.jpg" width="129" /></a></div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">How does one speak about poetry, about a collection that
speaks to so many deep truths? In this stunning book of poems, Limon shows the
range of human experience, the burdens and joys we carry from beginning to
end. Maybe it’s best if I share my favorite.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i><b>After the Fire</b><o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i>You ever think you could cry so hard<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i>that there’d be nothing left in you, like<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i>how the wind shakes a tree in a storm<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i>until every part of it is run through with<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i>wind? I live in the low parts now, most<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i>days a little hazy with fever and waiting<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i>for the water to stop shivering out of the <o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i>body. Funny thing about grief, its hold<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i>is so bright and determined like a flame,<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i>like something almost worth living for.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><b><i>Between the World and Me</i> by Ta-Nehisi Coates (2015)<o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">This National Book Award winner garnered many more accolades
in the year it was released and it’s been on my shelf for some time. Written as
a series of letters to his son that touch on the history of African Americans
in this country, Coates describes his own life experiences within the framework
of racial inequity. In describing what it’s been like for him to survive and
make his way as a black man, he also he expresses his fears and hopes for his
son. Toni Morrison called the book “required reading,” and CNN named it one of the
most influential books of the decade. I only wish I had gotten to it sooner.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: trebuchet; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="215" data-original-width="152" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDScLk2UbaDwYjXlD7eSU04cfj1TzQbxFxt59QKgXwxvTJxaWBUhxf_DzjB9uvH6yEVDWPsoR_eoaZmTQ26NEKaEXBmv4kIVkuRgxJFTy8brqBtWIr1Eq4-m1sOFuSqaVwC0fTzh02w_RZ/w141-h200/latemigrations.jpg" width="141" /></span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i><b>Late Migrations: A Natural History of Love and Loss</b></i><b> by Margaret Renkl (2019)</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">This captivating, introspective book marries grief with hope,
and reminds us that humans exist within the folds of nature. Renkl has
experienced many of the life changes we all experience: marriage, children,
aging parents and loss. In chapters that alternate between memories of family
stories, episodes of love and grief, and observations of the plant and animal
life outside her back door, a narrative emerges: we are all part of the world,
good and bad, bloom and decay, happiness and pain. For me, reading this book
was akin to having your hand held. A wise, comforting, and beautifully written
book.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><b><i>Based on a True Story</i> (2017) by Delphine de Vigan</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">The only end-of-year entry from my Summer of France reading (I wrote more about it <a href="http://maryvenselwhite.blogspot.com/2020/08/summer-of-france-based-on-true-story.html">here</a>),
this international bestseller is a surprising and wholly entertaining read. It’s
fiction (or is it?), a suspenseful read that follows the friendship between
Delphine (the character), who is a writer, and the mysterious woman who
reemerges from her past (or has she?). The suspense lies, in part, in figuring
out which parts are true, might be true, couldn’t be true. It’s a compelling
read with a dark undercurrent. As I said, a great diversion for the elements of
the story, but it managed to be an exploration of literature too, and how we
determine what is true/real and what is fiction/imagined. And if you’ve been
paying attention to the books on my 2020 list so far, you will know that this
is a current exploration of mine as well.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"></span></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP4mx92LtlUgVXrHxlgsIbP-OatRphMH9HhAcBkAnOZewmXwQ0IAyDNoTfuHSc1yCzy4RlPkAIStEtEsrlI5TOH3njQCMChBJ-tdTKsXYGT_ZoG0a3fjUWTdAB0dHp1A_p4fNkx_JmW3IK/s224/thepoetx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="224" data-original-width="224" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP4mx92LtlUgVXrHxlgsIbP-OatRphMH9HhAcBkAnOZewmXwQ0IAyDNoTfuHSc1yCzy4RlPkAIStEtEsrlI5TOH3njQCMChBJ-tdTKsXYGT_ZoG0a3fjUWTdAB0dHp1A_p4fNkx_JmW3IK/w200-h200/thepoetx.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><b><i>The Poet X </i>by Elizabeth Acevedo (2018)</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Another National Book Award winner (in this case, for Young People’s
Literature), this novel-in-verse tells the story of Xiomara,
an Afro-Latina teen who finds her voice through spoken word and poetry. Acevedo
says she wrote the book to shed light on the experiences of girls who aren’t often
the protagonists of novels. This coming-of-age story addresses religion, the
first spark of sexuality, family pressures, and the powers of creative and
self-expression. An engaging read, it’s beautifully
crafted and packs much emotional resonance.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><b><i>The Book of Boy</i> by Catherine Gilbert Murdoch (2018)</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">This middle grade novel takes place in the Middle Ages. Boy
is a child who has survived the plague but lives in a village desiccated by not
only disease, but generations of war as well. When a mysterious pilgrim arrives
and chooses Boy to accompany him on a quest to collect the relics of St.
Peter and return them to Rome, the adventure of his life begins. It’s a quest story,
but so much more, because Boy has much to learn on this pilgrimage—about true spirituality
and morality, about the bonds that join people, and about his own true nature.
I loved this book for its unique setting, and for the surprising layers in this
lovely story for young people.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNGXR2l3k0ldg4pEIvrgQLRLHmw2zLNZlBqTD6NJppzBvuuLwEffMe1tOyaQxUFzyoPxCmarqhySMUPQPc19rG34yNfb8VaZ-SRsEYZCy7s2mshxGxro1GyyWMS2_P_ZLJNKfsIr0IHcD4/s177/eleanoro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="177" data-original-width="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNGXR2l3k0ldg4pEIvrgQLRLHmw2zLNZlBqTD6NJppzBvuuLwEffMe1tOyaQxUFzyoPxCmarqhySMUPQPc19rG34yNfb8VaZ-SRsEYZCy7s2mshxGxro1GyyWMS2_P_ZLJNKfsIr0IHcD4/s0/eleanoro.jpg" /></a></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><b><i>Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine</i> by Gail Honeyman (2018)</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">The main character of this novel, Eleanor Oliphant, is
somewhat of a misfit. Her social skills are questionable, she often says the
wrong thing, and she doesn’t spend time with people all that much. When she
meets Raymond, a similarly eccentric type, their relationship is the catalyst
for her journey back into life and love. This book is funny and smart and full
of unseen twists, introducing a character you will remember for a long time.
It may seem strange for me to compare this book to the last one on my list—<i>The Book
of Boy</i>—but it strikes me that they are similar in many ways. Both are about the
redemption available when two unlikely hearts meet.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><b><i>Olive, Again</i> by Elizabeth Strout (2019)</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">One of my most anticipated books in a long time, and now,
one of my favorite reads of the year. Strout picks up the story of Olive
Kitteridge, the character from her 2008 Pulitzer-Prize-winning novel of the
same name. When you love a book as much as I loved the first, you worry about a
sequel living up to your expectations. In this case, I was not disappointed. Strout has
a way of imbuing life’s ordinary events with gravitas—because, of course, it
is exactly life’s most ordinary events that have the most impact. Like Eleanor
Oliphant, Olive is a character who is as large as life, and Strout surrounds
her with a cast who reveal themselves to be as people are: confounding and endlessly
complicated but also, opportunities for warm connection. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Looking back over my
list of the year, I would say that what all of these books—whether novel,
memoir, or poetry—have in common are that they somehow, in some way, highlight
the importance and redemption of human connection. Isn’t that
what the best stories are about? </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">I hope your year of reading sustained you somewhat through
the challenges 2020 threw our way. As always, I’d love to hear about your
favorite reads of the year!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span></o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-79613455021055255532020-12-16T07:47:00.004-08:002020-12-16T07:47:36.383-08:00How to Create the Perfect Home Reading Nook (repost from Redfin blog)<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTDpK2jtNLOf1Aig8aQNLOxHS8pXdHBPLew58a9mwqxhDVcl5zE4gyk3a4tRItkYCAHv_9gbWxHe5c9rpS_otxrVrN2k2lLwxOwkG4F2BAaDRyay4ZWY7XOmrgUxB5-C4w1tMmc9DM9yA1/s564/7d7bd4d0b9c91116034077b5b2a8f373.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTDpK2jtNLOf1Aig8aQNLOxHS8pXdHBPLew58a9mwqxhDVcl5zE4gyk3a4tRItkYCAHv_9gbWxHe5c9rpS_otxrVrN2k2lLwxOwkG4F2BAaDRyay4ZWY7XOmrgUxB5-C4w1tMmc9DM9yA1/s320/7d7bd4d0b9c91116034077b5b2a8f373.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The holiday season is a perfect time
to spend time with those we love and reflect on the year. It’s also an
excellent time to cozy up with a blanket and lose yourself in your favorite
book. But before you dive into that story, why not create a cozy, personalized
space to read and unwind after a long winter’s day? Whether you live in </span><a href="https://www.redfin.com/city/30749/NY/New-York"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">New
York City</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> or </span><a href="https://www.redfin.com/city/30772/OR/Portland"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Portland</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, we’ve reached out to the experts to help you transform
that additional or unused space into the perfect reading nook that the whole
family can enjoy for years to come.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Create
a space that inspires you to read<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I read over 150 books a year, so a
perfect reading nook is essential! My reading nook is surrounded by books,
which makes me feel inspired and full of possibilities. It's comfortable, quiet
and has lots of natural light. It's a perfect place for reading, repose and
reflection. Make your reading nook unique by surrounding it with things you
love. - </span><a href="http://www.bookaremypeople.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Jennifer Caloyeras at Books Are My People</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The key to creating a quiet reading
nook is to block out everything else going on in your home so you can
concentrate on your story. I love to put on white noise or spa music to
block out all the tablets, TVs, kids, dogs, and other distracting noises.
I always have earbuds or a BlueTooth speaker within reach of my reading chair.
- </span><a href="https://amandakassner.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Back
Cover Copy</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Recognize
what makes you feel most at ease<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">How to build a cozy reading room is
easy and personal. What makes you feel most at ease? For me, it's soft or
natural lighting, no fluorescent overhead lights on, only lamps or sunlight
coming through a window and always at least one candle. Next, I like to fill
the space with the most comfortable places to sit and put my feet up. A
comfortable armchair with a footrest, or if I can swing it, the very best place
to cozy up and read it in a hammock or swinging chair. - </span><a href="http://humankindbookclub.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Human Kind
Book Club</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Creating a reading space in your
home is about creating a comfortable place you can tuck yourself in. Whether or
not you consider yourself a reader or think you'd use a reading nook, the
possibility is what you're after. An otherwise unused area of your home can be
transformed in a few short steps, be a conversation piece, a place for family
heirlooms, and is a great way to encourage yourself and your children to read.
My own reading space is an inviting respite at the end of a long day and gives
warmth and life to an area that might've just been clutter otherwise, it's a
place where the whole family gravitates toward, and that's exactly what makes
our house a home. - </span><a href="http://www.theardentbiblio.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Ardent Biblio</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Know
what you need<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When I'm creating the ideal space
for reading, it needs to have 3 things: ergonomic comfort, excellent lighting,
and a place to rest my beverage. Too often, reading nooks look cute and
creative (think charming window benches and "under the stairs"
nooks), but aren't actually that conducive to spending long stretches of time
reading. First and foremost, make sure you have a comfortable place to sit or
lounge. Secondly, lighting is important. Maybe you do best with bright, natural
light, or maybe you prefer to adjust your lighting depending on the time of
day. Will you need a dimmer switch, or maybe light bulbs you can adjust from an
app on your phone? And finally, a reading nook should have a safe place to rest
your beverage of choice. I love drinking hot tea while I'm reading, so having a
place where I can easily reach for my mug is important to me. - </span><a href="http://dearenglishmajor.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dear English
Major</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> & </span><a href="http://www.homescribecreative.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Home
Scribe Creative</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Make
your space a reflection of your spirit<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">it is imperative that your room
reflects you. This can be with the decor, the furnishings and even the
decision to color code your books instead of organizing by title, author. You
want the space to mirror your personal values/style. - </span><a href="https://www.mahoganybooks.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mahogany
books</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Don’t
sacrifice comfort for aesthetic<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Aesthetic is important, but don't
forget comfort. No matter how gorgeous your reading nook photographs, you won't
use it if the antique chair's uncomfortable crossbar is jabbing into your back.
And one bonus tip: if you're going to read ambitiously, make sure you have a
dictionary within arm's reach. - </span><a href="http://dzancbooks.org/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dzanc Books</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Be
sure to have plenty of light<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Comfy seating and good lighting are
key in creating a cozy reading nook. A window with a view is always an inviting
place to sit. If that's not an option, choose a corner by the fireplace or in a
room with low traffic. Along with an overstuffed chair, add a floor lamp w/
3-way lighting; a small end table for your books, table lamp (in lieu of floor
lamp) and a coaster for your hot cocoa. PS: Don't forget a cozy lap blanket.
Happy reading! - </span><a href="http://www.seaportbooks.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Seaport Books </span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Good lighting is a must. Natural
light from a nearby window is sublime, but as the day progresses a good reading
lamp with an arm that adjusts for height and direction is important. For
optimum directional light, a clip book light or a camper’s headlamp can be
useful, and kids find them fun, too — it helps make reading an adventure. - </span><a href="http://www.bookcougars.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Book
Cougars</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Decorate
with stylish <i>and</i> functional pieces<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Invest in some stylish and
functional lamps for your reading nook, and make sure to buy the right
temperature bulbs! Recent studies have shown that cool light is best for a
learning environment while warm light creates a more relaxing environment. If
you’re trying to relax with a good novel or short story you should grab bulbs
in the warmer 2700K-3000K range, light a few candles, or even set up in front
of a fireplace for maximum coziness! But if you prefer to read more stimulating
works like educational materials or nonfiction, you might try swapping for a
cooler 3000K+ bulb or positioning your reading chair in front of your biggest,
brightest window. - </span><a href="http://adbiblio.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ad Biblio</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Keep
it quiet and private <b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One of the biggest joys of reading
is being able to disappear into different worlds, to be immersed in new places
and times, and to go on adventures with characters you’ve only just met, or who
have become old friends. There is nothing more frustrating than being
interrupted just as you get to that pivotal moment in a scene or
narrative. With that in mind, create a reading nook that is “off the
beaten path” of your household – someplace quiet and private -- this can be a
transformed closet, or the corner of less frequently used room, or a whimsical
tent or fort built out of household materials (e.g., blankets, cushions,
curtain rods, etc.). - </span><a href="https://www.ageoflearning.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anastasia Betts, VP Curriculum Planning & Design at Age
of Learning</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Make your reading nook cozy by
choosing a quiet spot away from distractions. Make sure you choose a comfy
chair, have adequate soft lighting, a cup of tea, and a soft blanket. Small
book carts for keeping your to-be-read books within reach have become popular.
Strike up an inspiring scented candle to set the mood. - </span><a href="http://capitalbooksonk.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Capital
Books</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Get
cozy<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A comfy chair and soft chenille
throw are must-haves for any book lover when creating the perfect reading nook!
And don’t forget the light—choosing a well-lit space will allow you to finish
that page-turner that’s been keeping you up each night. -</span><a href="http://www.lizandlisa.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Liz and
Lisa</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">If you don't enjoy the actual
experience of sitting in your reading nook, you won't! Do you like being cozy?
You need a comfy armchair or lots of pillows and blankets. Need a space with no
distractions? A minimalist nook is for you. Do you need help channeling your
imagination? Choose whimsical colors or patterns to surround and inspire you. -
</span><a href="https://www.visitthestoryshop.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
Story Shop</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As a mystery writer and avid reader,
the things in my own cozy reading nooks always include a comfy chair, an
ottoman, and good lighting. Personally, I avoid super bright light -- subdued
and indirect feel most natural, whether I'm holding a hardcover book, jotting
notes on my lap desk, or reading on my Kindle. To cozy up my space, I add
cushions, a shawl over my shoulders, and a fuzzy throw during the winter
months. A place for my teacup is also a must! - </span><a href="http://www.connieshelton.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Connie
Shelton</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Have
a heat source nearby for colder months<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A reading nook is a perfect addition
to any mountain home. In the winter months, it's important to set up your
reading nook near a heat source, a wood stove or fireplace is perfect for
keeping warm. Furnish the space with an extra cozy bouclé accent chair. - </span><a href="https://www.wedreambig.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We Dream Big</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Make
it how <i>you</i> like it<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The best book nook should be
tailored just for you as an ideal spot where you're drawn to spend more of your
time reading books! So if you like it cozy, pile up the blankets and add
an atmospheric electric fireplace. If you are trying to keep it cool, make
sure there's a fan and a spot for your favorite iced beverage. Our ideal
would be a chaise longue wrapped with corner bookcases near a window for an
occasional peek at the view. - </span><a href="http://www.laplayabooks.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">La Playa Books</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Creating
a reading space for the kiddos<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For kids, a reading nook should be
secret, special, and small. It should be a place lit by flashlights, well
camouflaged so that nosy parents won't intrude, comfy with blankets, couch
cushions, stuffed animals, and a 'do not disturb' sign. And most important: let
the young reader build it her/himself. -</span><a href="https://www.bookclubforkids.org/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">
Book Club for Kids</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When I was a child I liked to go in
my closet with a flashlight to read because I liked the seclusion and the
chance to get away from it all. In a home with children, I believe a
reading area should be set up to provide a bit of whimsy. It should be
cozy with dark walls and very comfortable areas to lounge with bean bags and
recliners because reading for pleasure is best done in absolute comfort.
The lighting should be good but soft and the accent pieces should be literary
in nature. A quiet area with no windows is preferred to eliminate
distractions. Instilling a love of reading in young children will set them
up for greater success in the future because learning to read is one of the
first bricks in the educational foundation. - </span><a href="https://www.randbusedbooks.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">R&B
Used Books</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Be
flexible<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As a single mother with four
children who are now young adults, our household is lively—and at times,
crowded. As a writer, teacher and editor, all of the work I do requires a quiet
space, so I’ve learned to be flexible. Reading is no different. Whether it be
in my traditional nook with a leather armchair and mosaic reading lamp or
curled up next to the fireplace with both dogs next to me, or on the patio
enjoying the California sunshine—any spot can be made into a reading zone.
Quiet not always guaranteed! - </span><a href="https://maryvenselwhite.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mary Vensel White</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://www.redfin.com/blog/how-to-create-the-perfect-reading-nook/">Originally
published on Redfin</a><o:p></o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-76300067631470168992020-08-11T10:50:00.002-07:002020-08-11T10:52:07.566-07:00Summer of France: Based on a True Story<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfon9-4YhibkAWD1JwY5tp0OHc-8FtUeh6ucxDKE6RbRwatJUY1GsJ6CFTSFLVGz1XmrbsM0P2P4LdgwiuxQ8lFwloHs-TJfyRCbjo7lqr5xdtsQjqBEHCQjkIGjfyX7IZCwXC1C_pEv7/s2048/truestory.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1347" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfon9-4YhibkAWD1JwY5tp0OHc-8FtUeh6ucxDKE6RbRwatJUY1GsJ6CFTSFLVGz1XmrbsM0P2P4LdgwiuxQ8lFwloHs-TJfyRCbjo7lqr5xdtsQjqBEHCQjkIGjfyX7IZCwXC1C_pEv7/w216-h328/truestory.jpg" width="216" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Rounding out my Summer of France is Delphine de Vigan’s
“metafictional thriller,” <i>Based on a True Story</i>. This French bestseller
is the story of “a friendship gone terrifyingly toxic.” There was a film
adaptation in 2017, directed by Roman Polanski, which was not well-reviewed. I may watch it anyway.</p><p class="MsoNormal">In the novel, a writer (also named Delphine) is finishing up
the book events related to her most recent publication, an autobiographical
novel which enjoyed great success. She’s exhausted and lacking inspiration for her
next book. She begins to receive unpleasant letters accusing of her of being
opportunistic and untruthful about some facts from her childhood. Of course,
her novel was just that—a novel, and Delphine (the author in <i>this</i> novel)
grows tired of always fielding questions about whether the fictional events and
people she wrote about have solid basis in “reality.”</p><p class="MsoNormal">Around this same time, she meets L., a mysterious person
from her past (or is she?)—someone from her school days who has read
everything Delphine has written, and who begins to wiggle her way into all
aspects of Delphine’s life. She’s Delphine’s biggest fan and her most ardent
critic. She tries to show Delphine the way out of her writing slump. But is it
the right way?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0WTLOZb4IsClI1-7en4wCrWKAwMl3F2WfXVbvbPlOiDpU-IyPfQqcOUjMm71cTIGDcJLb40DTRuHVncGuFjYQNlAm06gRHyscrP4FKau5jelwpWfz3s3S0XITSzMzxt0MVk8rn5ckI7T/s300/misery2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0WTLOZb4IsClI1-7en4wCrWKAwMl3F2WfXVbvbPlOiDpU-IyPfQqcOUjMm71cTIGDcJLb40DTRuHVncGuFjYQNlAm06gRHyscrP4FKau5jelwpWfz3s3S0XITSzMzxt0MVk8rn5ckI7T/w240-h134/misery2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">If this setup rings vaguely familiar, you may be recalling
Stephen King’s <i>Misery</i> and in fact, de Vigan uses quotes from King’s
novels at the beginning of each of the book’s three sections. And the
similarities are there; L. is a fan in the way Annie Wilkes was a fan: both
have particular expectations for future work by their favorite authors, both
walk a tightrope between sanity and insanity. But where King’s novel descends
fairly rapidly into horror, <i>Based on a True Story</i> treads more cerebral
ground. And I loved it for that.</p><p class="MsoNormal">This is a page-turner for writers. As their relationship
evolves, L. and Delphine have many conversations about fiction and the process
of creating it. When we use autobiography, what are the difficulties and
obligations? Is there anything that could truly be called fiction? What do we owe readers? Ourselves? I may have written about this very topic myself, <a href="https://medium.com/@mvw888/what-do-writers-owe-readers-what-do-we-owe-ourselves-d75ff7e765c0">here</a>.
The women attend films together, they discuss other books they’ve read, they
talk about Barthes—all the while contemplating Delphine’s next novel.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>(L.) “’Yes, you talked about a trajectory that passed
through different points and said it would be hard to go back to fiction now. I
read your last book with that in mind, the idea it had within it another, more
important, more dangerous one.’</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>(Delphine) I was starting to feel hot.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>I explained to L. that I’d been wrong. I’d done that
interview in early August, several weeks before the book came out. I’d had no
idea what would happen, what the book would stir up. I thought I’d foreseen its
consequences, but I was wide of the mark. I didn’t have broad enough shoulders
for it. I wasn’t up to it—it was as simple as that. That was why I now wanted
to go back to fiction, to tell a story, invest in characters, owe no debt to
reality.”</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MBZZl_AiGZnExTeGy-FFAaDAx8em9npQgsjpL5y4AGv-tR3MYtyhLvmJNCtioDENnoldbCNIW1t4zz1eXjRIy1vKeQI76sk7uXd4WG2AkLmMK442Yjnnz2OYDcY5bfOTJamnaG7jNAzN/s300/writingpaper.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MBZZl_AiGZnExTeGy-FFAaDAx8em9npQgsjpL5y4AGv-tR3MYtyhLvmJNCtioDENnoldbCNIW1t4zz1eXjRIy1vKeQI76sk7uXd4WG2AkLmMK442Yjnnz2OYDcY5bfOTJamnaG7jNAzN/s0/writingpaper.jpg" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">As the novel proceeds, readers are left to piece together
Delphine’s reality (and L.’s). There are insinuations of childhood trauma and
psychiatric difficulties. There’s a divorce and children leaving for college.
And of course, there is Delphine’s oeuvre (fittingly enough, a French word for
work) and her current inability to produce new writing and how that affects and
depletes a writer.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Meanwhile, L. becomes more and more suspect—as a friend to
Delphine, as a character—as she becomes more important to Delphine. She expands
into Delphine’s life, taking up space and as a reader, we aren’t sure how to read
<i>her</i>. Or Delphine, for that matter.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>(Delphine) “If you don’t grasp the little grain of madness
in someone, you cannot love them. If you don’t grasp their point of craziness,
you miss out. Someone’s point of craziness is the source of their charm. <o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>I immediately thought of L.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>I thought of L., who had perceived my point of craziness,
and vice versa.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Perhaps that is what any encounter is, whether lovers or
friends: two forms of craziness that recognize and captivate each other."</i></p><p class="MsoNormal">So, yes, this novel has many mysteries but mostly, it’s a
deep exploration of the act of creating fiction. How it isolates us while we
strive for connection, how we violate ourselves in the quest for understanding,
how we come out the other side as if emerging from a fever dream. It’s a novel
I’d be inclined to read again because at the end, I felt I was just beginning
to understand.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>“But you know, I’m not sure that the real is enough. The real,
insofar as it exists at all, for it to be possible to recreate it, the real, as
you put it, needs to be incarnated, transformed, interpreted. Without
perspective or a viewpoint, at best, it’s boring as hell, and at worst it’s
completely anxiety-producing. And that work, whatever the raw material, is
always a form of fiction.”</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-10968183214847998162020-07-27T08:21:00.000-07:002020-07-27T08:21:54.269-07:00Summer of France: Film Interlude<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><img alt="Soirée Cinéma -" src="data:image/jpeg;base64,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" 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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been busy with other
reading obligations and so, I give you some French film suggestions, in keeping
with my summer theme.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>The Intouchables</b> (2012) – if you saw the 2017 American
film, The Upside, with Kevin Hart and Bryan Cranston, this is the original version.
Just like the remake, it’s funny, sentimental, and entertaining.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="The Gays' Gaze: A Kristen Stewart Public Service Announcement" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn%3AANd9GcSAA78yB1bSrEZE6cBOwYhISui2fJzp0wIrcw&usqp=CAU" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>The Clouds of Sils Maria </b>(2015) – I would watch Juliette
Binoche in anything, and she’s great in this. Two actresses are cast as lovers
in a film. One is middle-aged and struggling with a waning career, the other is younger and infinitely intriguing. Sparks fly, and complications ensue with the arrival of
the older actress’s assistant. Also stars Kristen Stewart and Chloe Grace
Moretz. All are wonderful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<em><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"><b>Amélie </b>(2002) </span></em><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">– if you
haven’t seen <em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Amélie</span></em>,
I don’t know what to tell you. Other than to watch it. It’s a quirky and
entirely original love story. I had planned to re-watch it for this post
(and still plan to), but got diverted by the next film.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><b>Caché </b>(2005) – I was distracted to watch this film instead because it's one I hadn't seen with Juliette Binoche, who, as mentioned, I would watch in anything.
The film is billed as a psychological thriller but it’s a slow burn—sometimes,
painfully slow. A couple begins receiving disturbing videos and messages, and
tries to figure out what’s happening. I will say, the end left me puzzling over
some aspects of the plot—but in a good way. </span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; letter-spacing: .4pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; clear: left; float: left; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; letter-spacing: 0.4pt; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0in;"><img alt="Michael Haneke's 'Amour,' With Jean-Louis Trintignant - The New ..." 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" /></span></div>
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<em><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"><b>Amour </b>(2012) – This movie
about an elderly couple and their love will tear your heart out of
your chest. It’s truly one of the most beautiful representations of devotion I’ve
ever seen depicted.</span></em><em><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"><br /></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;"><b>The Artist</b> (2012) – For recovery after viewing Amour, I recommend this fun, silent film about an aging star who falls
for a younger actress. It’s light and nostalgic.</span></em><em><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></div>
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<a href="about:invalid#zClosurez" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Les Misérables (2019) directed by Ladj Ly • Reviews, film + cast ..." border="0" height="200" 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" 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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">On my list to view:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<em><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><b>Les Misérables</b></span></em><span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> (2019)
– this is not the one based on the Broadway show, but a film from last year
about tensions between police and citizens in Montfermeil—many, immigrants struggling
to thrive.</span><span style="background: white; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>Slack
Bay </b>(2017) – a mystery about the disappearance of a wealthy family. Reviews
call it “dark,” “funny,” and “delightfully strange.” A mystery that maybe, isn’t
really a mystery. I’m in.</span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8651750571102817679.post-77720408338279652692020-07-15T08:13:00.000-07:002020-07-15T08:13:24.037-07:00Summer of France: Bonjour Tristesse<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvPcFELPyGQBNYjDwjVuFIztqLCqKp4FgTMQCF7xHQguHddTwPjXkx-LYU1jlV2uW22w_9Q_uIQ-pNEzG3neJPQ4q4mHquiD4Ra-CAabsbxs573sFl_ls1h9HckQC7H9wG4CZzwMtYCGDD/s1600/bonjourtr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1360" data-original-width="971" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvPcFELPyGQBNYjDwjVuFIztqLCqKp4FgTMQCF7xHQguHddTwPjXkx-LYU1jlV2uW22w_9Q_uIQ-pNEzG3neJPQ4q4mHquiD4Ra-CAabsbxs573sFl_ls1h9HckQC7H9wG4CZzwMtYCGDD/s320/bonjourtr.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">From the opening pages of this slim novel, the voice of its
young narrator takes center stage. It’s an assured voice, with poetic strains—observant,
pensive, strangely aloof. When the book was published in 1954, the author, Françoise
Sagan, was only eighteen, particularly poised to write from the perspective of her 17-year-old
protagonist, Cécile. The setting: the French Riviera, where Cécile and her
playboy father are vacationing with his mistress du jour, Elsa. Cécile has been
in her father’s full-time care for two years, after leaving convent school; they live a life of parties and indulgences. Her mother died when she was quite
young. Of her father, she says:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>“He was a frivolous man, clever at business, always curious,
quickly bored, and very attractive to women. It was easy for me to love him,
for he was kind, generous, gay and fond of me. I cannot imagine a better or a
more amusing companion.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As for Elsa, she’s agreeable as well, and the three are enjoying a harmonious vacation until Cécile’s father receives notice that another
guest will be arriving—Anne Larson, an old friend of her mother’s and a
serious, practical woman who has taken Cécile under her wing at times. Cécile
points out to her father the disharmony this arrangement would possibly create:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>“She’s too intelligent and has too much self-respect. And
what about Elsa? Have you thought of her? Can you imagine what Elsa and Anne
can talk about? I can’t!”…<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>He laughed softly and rubbed the back of my neck. I turned
to look at him. His dark eyes gleamed; funny little wrinkles marked their
edges; his mouth was turned up slightly. He looked like a faun. I laughed with
him as I always did when he created complications for himself.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cécile begins to fear that Anne will wreck
the carefree lifestyle she’s been living with her father and begins to plot
against the older woman. This is the setup for the novel—a beautiful, Mediterranean
setting, a triangle (or quadrangle) of sorts emerging. I don’t want to say too
much more about the plot because if you are looking for a quick, summer read
that will distract you from the real world and transport you despite a lack
of actual, physical travel, this is your book. Oh, I almost forgot. Cécile has
a love interest as well:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>“On the sixth day I saw Cyril for the first time. He was
hugging the coast in a small sailboat and capsized in front of our cove. I had
a wonderful time helping him to rescue his things, during which he told me his
name, that he was studying law, and was spending his vacation with his mother
in a neighboring villa. He had a typically Latin face—very dark and very
frank.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And to give you more ideas about 17-year-old Cécile:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>“Usually I avoided college students, whom I considered
brutal, wrapped up in themselves, particularly in their youth, in which they
found material for drama, or an excuse for their own boredom. I did not care
for young people; I much preferred my father’s friends, men of forty, who spoke
to me courteously and tenderly—treated me with the gentleness of a father—or a
lover.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Because, you see, Françoise Sagan caused quite a scandal
with the publication of this book, which quickly became a bestseller. Cécile runs
with adults and begins an affair with Cyril. And despite her detached voice and
steady gaze (and Anne’s determined interference), we begin to see the chinks in
Cécile’s armour. This is no old-fashioned novel of manners; matters of sexuality and love are addressed frankly and often, strangely dispassionately, through Cécile's lens. She's a character I won’t forget for a long time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I finished the novel in two sittings and immediately watched
the film version, which came out in 1958 and starred the perfectly cast Jean
Seberg as Cécile and Deborah Kerr looking as beautiful as she ever was as
Anne. David Niven is </span><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">Cécile's dandy father</span><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">. You know, the film was okay, but it took the subtleties
of the novel and made them painfully overt, through voice-overs, dialogue and song.
There was lots of singing and music, in fact. It worked well from
time to time, but it didn’t really feel like the vibe of the novel, at least to me.
I think in hindsight, I would have rather given myself more time to digest and
enjoy the book before watching this adaptation. I recommend </span><i style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">Bonjour Tristesse</i><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">, the novel, very highly. It was an entertaining, surprising and nuanced read, a breathe of fresh air in my summer reading.</span></div>
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