The Year of Magical Thinking

Ahh. Much better than Blue Nights. This was written after the death of Didion's husband, John (note the cover - J O H N. Blue Nights says N O, which I thought was maybe a mistake, and am now politely pretending is literary rather than cheesy). It also describes (one of) her daughter Quintana's hospital stay(s), but I assume that Q recovered before this book was published.

The repetition here reads as soothing, not frantic. Didion guides you through her process of grief, recalling tidbits from grief experts, poems, and the books she and John wrote (separately). She recalls their life together and explores what life will be like without him. This is exactly what I expected from a book about a loved one's death. I no longer believe that Rory Gilmore had a lapse of judgment when she read this (I know she's not "real", but she has very good taste).

I still don't really understand why Didion published Blue Nights, though. I'm hoping she did it for the paycheck. Many of what she writes there is also here, but better written. I don't think you'd be missing anything if you just read The Year of Magical Thinking, but you'd be missing something if you didn't read it.

Blue Nights

Moxie is sleeping next to me! We've been working up to it the last couple of days. She gets jealous and comes to visit us when D & I cuddle, so we've taught her to cuddle just like we taught her not to chew on the couch. Well, both of these are a work in progress, I guess.

I walked past Blue Nights on my way to the library scanner and grabbed it because I own (but haven't read) The Year of Magical Thinking. I wish I hadn't. The writing was simultaneously repetitive and scattered, but that's not why I didn't like it. It seemed like Didion wrote whatever entered her mind when she forced herself to think about her daughter, which was hopefully good for her grieving process, but made the book seem more like a journal entry than a published work. I felt like I was intruding on, rather than privy to, her grief. Blue Nights felt more forced than cathartic, and since this is my first Didion, it's hard to tell whether I dislike her writing style or just this book. I hope that The Year of Magical Thinking reads better so I can further enjoy Play It as It Lays, which I've wanted to read for years.

Hate List

I added this to my list after ONTD said it deserved a place on this NPR list of the best teen novels. During my last semester at Pitt, I added an Adolescent Rebellion lit class because it fit into my schedule and wasn't as frightening as the Russian lit class with a Bona Fide Russian (who lectured us about our bankruptcy of Russian cultural knowledge the entire first class and spoke so quickly the second my hand cramped. Not what I was looking for my last semester, but I wish I'd found him sooner). Despite my neverending grudge about getting an A-, I really loved that class, and it's made me much more interested in YA fiction than I thought I'd ever be. I'm sure that eventually I'll get back into reading Austen, Dickens, and Tolstoy, but for now I'm really content to read books like this more often than the "classics".

I fell in love with the narrator, Valerie, which is weird because the book's about a school shooting. When I first started reading it, I didn't especially like it - I didn't know how to relate to the intimate and unique situation of having your boyfriend  kill people whom you had put on a Hate List (you might think these are spoilers, but I promise and swear, you know this in the first few pages).

By the end of the book, I was actually crying as I do when I incredibly sympathise with fictional persons, non-human animals, inanimate objects... (A la Jess from New Girl, I really do feel sorry for the single socks abandoned on the side of the road.) And no, David, I didn't just think how I would feel, you sawcebox. It was more like I just wanted everybody to stop being so distrustful/hostile/blaming of/to Valerie and treat her like she was finally learning she deserved to be treated (sob).

This is a very fast read, but pretty emotional (for some people). Seriously, it was a good thing that it was a slow phone day for my scheduling job. I can't imagine how embarrassed I'd be to have a client call in the middle of my sob fest (which lasted a good fifteen pages). It's well-written in that the characters are fleshed out, but the ending was a little hasty, like the author realized she'd hit 400 pages and people might not want to read many more. I would've. Just saying.

Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?

I have a problem.

The organizer in me doesn't want to read books without a system. The bibliophile in me wants to collect as many books as possible for future appreciation - four bookshelves almost full, and I still have so many gaps! And I always find new reading lists telling me about good books I've never heard of! These two identities constantly battle.

Which is why I first frantically requested most of these books from my library, but then re-shelved all my books at home and got excited to follow through with the system, and am now just telling myself to enjoy whichever book I'm reading and forget the rest.

Anyway.

Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? was the first available book from that list. It was actually published in 2011, so I'm not quite sure what it was doing on a 2012 summer reading list. I'm so, so glad it was, though. It's somewhat miscategorized (the tagline is "If you wanna feel good about books while reading a book"), but only because it is incredibly difficult to label. It is a memoir about adoption, love, loss, childhood, motherhood, books, sexuality, Accrington, feminism, religion, writing, and reading - just to name a few. Winterson cleverly combines these diverse topics, maintaining optimism in the midst of madness, abuse, and rejection. For instance, here is what she writes after her entire collection of literature is burned by her mother:

The books had gone, but they were objects; what they held could not be so easily destroyed. What they held was already inside me, and together we would get away.

Perhaps the tagline was about books because Winterson's writing demonstrates she is well-read. You can immediately tell, even without her describing her trips to the library to alphabetically read Eng Lit Prose A-Z (which the organizer in me loved). It is easy for me to say that you will appreciate this memoir if you love books, but not because it is a memoir about books. If you're looking for one of those, read Ex Libris. Read Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? because it is well-written, honest, and intimate.

Cuddle Quandary

Moxie is the perfect dog. She is curious, sweet, playful, and smart. There is just one problem - she hates cuddling.

I won't lie - one of the things I was most looking forward to about having a puppy was the cuddles. I cuddled a lot with Rhu, my parents' puppy, when I went to Nebraska on the day of my brother's wedding. I used to take Maggie out of her kennel at night just for the cuddles. All three of my parents' dogs are incredibly cuddly, and even my dear girl Nugget cuddled me as best she could with her large frame.

Unfortunately, any time I try to cuddle with Moxie, she churns around in my arms until I let her go. One time I tricked her into cuddling with me for an hour or so by picking her up when she was sleeping, but never since then. It's like her cuddle quota was reached and now it will never happen again. She even refuses the physical comfort of cuddling when she goes for car rides, which is her least favourite thing to do.

I just don't understand how Moxie can be a true Manes without loving cuddles. My favourite part of the day is cuddling with David. I guess we'll have to click train her or something. 

Monsters of Men

This is the last book of the YA trilogy I began reading in June. I didn't find it as rewarding as the first two, but I don't want to say it's the book's fault. Ness' style and Kingsolver's style are very different, so it's possible that Ness' technique -
of writing -
like this-
during action scenes -
was more glaring compared with Kingsolver's more fluid sentences. I might have not noticed it at all if this had been waiting at the library for me after I finished The Ask and the Answer.

This was a very fast read despite being "long" (it has about 600 pages, but would probably be more like 350-400 if the writing weren't so stylized - specific people/animals are associated with specific fonts, and loud noises can sometimes take up 1/4 of a page in text) and much better than the third book in some other YA series (ahem, Mockingjay, Specials/Extras). It did a very nice job of integrating events that happened in the first two without being heavy-handed or too tied-up-with-a-bow. I liked that Todd's issues changed in this book to become more about society than himself. Todd learns how to use the information overload of hearing/sending thought broadcasts rather than constantly wrestling with it. Monsters of Men focuses more on intrapersonal struggle in all the main characters as they attempt to decide what's right for them, what's right for their society, and what to do when compromise between the two is impossible.

 As an aside, it's pretty amusing to read "Todd!" "Viola!" over and over again - it reminds me of Titanic.

The Poisonwood Bible

This book has lived on my shelves for probably a year and a half now. I bought it after several of my trusted readers recommended it, but hesitated to read it because I didn't think it would live up to the hype. I must admit that I actually winced when I saw Oprah's seal of approval on the cover. I mentally dragged my feet after the first chapter set the novel in Africa but featured a family of white missionaries, thinking it would be another white savior novel.

It is anything but. It surpasses the hype. It really is just wonderful: masterful storytelling and dynamic characters without requiring stringent attention to read (I'm looking at you, DFW). No doubt I'm a little biased because its five narrators are exclusively female, but it cheapens The Poisonwood Bible for me to say that I mainly liked it for having female narrators. The Price women are generally strong-willed and smart without all reading like the same person. The narration skips around enough that it's easy to temporarily forget who is speaking, but reading just a few sentences will remind you. Ugh. I am so happy with this book. It is one I am sure to revisit.

Good Grief

Debbi lent me this book after talking it up for about a month, so I set aside my other book so I could read this first. It's about a young woman (mid-30s) whose husband dies of cancer just three years after they're married. Reading a novel about a young widow freaked me out because I'm neurotic enough to worry about becoming one, but it wasn't as sad as I thought it would be. There are a few gut-wrenching things in the first chapter, but little to none after that.

I liked this book because Sophie's grieving process is believable without being (too) annoyingly pathetic. There are also plenty of plot developments that ease her grief without ignoring it - she moves to a new town, makes new friends, and opens a bakery.

I didn't like how much the book dealt with meeting a new man. I would've liked to see Sophie reestablish her life as a single lady and professional woman before she met her dreamy boyfriend, not after she had dated him for a while. It felt too much like she needed a man instead of choosing to have one. Also, the writing gets lazy sometimes - there is a chapter that repeats at the start of each paragraph "Drew was ____," an error that every basic writing course preaches against - don't tell your reader about your characters, show them.

Still, it's not at all a bad book - perfect for light and fast summer reading.

Moxie Bartlett Manes

We got our puppy last night at around midnight - she is just the cutest thing! Her name is Moxie Bartlett (because we love Charlie and President Bartlett). She is still getting used to her new house. She follows us around everywhere and is really curious/sad when one of us leaves.

The picture is a few weeks old. Look for more soon!

...Really?

H (after day of physical labor resulting in weird sunburn): I'm tired.

D (after day of labor sitting in his now VERY air conditioned home office): Okay. Let's go to bed and read.

10 minutes later...

D: zzzzz

H: -_-

Everybody Was So Young/Tender is the Night

     I found this book in one of my favourite bookstores, a tiny place in Omaha's Old Market with towering bookshelves and books stacked spine up in the aisles. I make an effort to go there with David as often as possible. I'm mildly interested in the literature of the 1920s, but this is the only biography of that time that I've read so far.

Sara and Gerald are known for their generosity toward their friends, their partnership, and their lovely parties. They were friends with Hemingway, the Fitzgeralds, the Dos Passoses, and Picasso, and while this book describes their sometimes tumultuous relationships with these famous artists, it focuses more on Sara and Gerald themselves. They are generally fascinating people, and the author did a wonderful job of highlighting their style, grace,  courage, and optimism. I liked the book well enough, though it took me a long time to read through. This is probably not so much the fault of the book as it is moving and unpacking. I packed my bedside reading lamp much sooner than I probably should have...

I chose to read Everybody Was So Young now because I just finished Fitzgerald's Tender is the Night. He borrowed extensively from Sara and Gerald when describing the pre-mental breakdown/alcoholic Nicole and Dick Diver in his novel. Sara was pretty pissed about it - she refused to read the novel or see the film. Hemingway said that it would have been fine for Fitzgerald to write about the Murphys if he had kept them the same, but it was a perversion to meld Sara and Gerald with Scott and Zelda. I enjoyed Tender is the Night when Nicole and Dick were happy and living life (as Sara and Gerald), but it got dark very quickly. I, like Sara and Hemingway, found it odd that Scott would use Sara and Gerald as models for fictional characters that eventually separate after having ruined each other's lives.