Bookmarked

"Reading is an escape, an education, a delving into the brain of another human being on such an intimate level that every nuance of thought, every snapping of synapse, every slippery desire of the author is laid open before you like~well, a book." ~Cynthia Heimel

It's been a good book year so far. I've been "delving into the brains" of some very fine authors, and their words have been like~well, Natural Opium, if I may borrow the title of my most current selection, a book of travel essays by Diane Johnson that reads more like a witty memoir or eclectic collection of short stories than a travelogue.

My literary travels have taken me to the court of Henry VIII via Phillipa Gregory's The Constant Princess. Gregory's portrait of the young Catherine of Aragon, Henry's first wife, and her fiery determination to be the Queen of England, puts a new spin on this often told tale. "I shall not give myself to heartbreak," Catherine writes after the death of her beloved first husband, Henry's brother Arthur. "I shall give myself to England. I shall keep my promise. I shall be constant to my husband and to my destiny. I shall plot, and plan, and consider how I shall conquer this misfortune and be what I was born to be. How I shall be the pretender who becomse the Queen." Lush with drama, atmosphere, intrique, and sensuality worthy of the finest of romance writers, this entry in Gregory's series of historical novels was both informative and enchanting.

From the courts of medieval England, I was carried to the far east where Lisa See immersed me in a fascinating novel set in 19th century China. Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, is a story two small girls who are committed to each other as laotang, or lifelong friends, and their struggle to survive in 19th century China. They communicate in nu shu, a secret "women's writing" developed by Chinese women to convey their deepest thoughts and feelings. See's writing is absolutely luminous, and her depiction of a woman's place in Chinese society is heartbreaking. "We women are expected to love our children as soon as they leave our bodies," writes Lily, the narrator of the tale. "We may love our daughters with all our hearts, but we must train them through pain. We love our sons most of all, but we can never be part of their world, the outer realm of men. So we love our families, but we understand that this love will end in the sadness of departure. All types of love come out of duty, respect, and gratitude. Most of them, as the women in my county know, are sources of sadness, rupture, and brutality."

After these travels through history, Patry Francis' first novel, The Liar's Diary, catapulted me right back to the 21st century. Liar's abound in this chilling suspense novel, and their web of deception results in devastation and death. Jeanne Cross, a school secretary married to a hotshot doctor, has spent her life portraying the part of the perfect wife and mother, ignoring the way her husband's behavior is destryoing the life of their 16 year old son, Jamie. Enter 46 year old Ali Mather, a free sprited, seductive musician, whose own secret past allows her valuable insight into the evil that lurks in Jeanne's family. Her struggle to help Jeanne and Jamie face the hard truth about their lives results in chilling psychological suspense and violent death. Francis' characters had me hooked from page one, and I eagerly followed this thrilling roller coaster ride to it's surprising and satisfying conclusion.

I've also been working my way through Reading Like A Writer, Francine Prose's "Guide for People Who Love Books and For Those Who Want to Write Them." Prose offers the idea that one should "learn to write by writing, and by example, by reading." Her book is a look into the method she uses for carefully studying great writing, for "putting every word on trial for its life," for absorbing, "almost by osmosis" what works and what doesn't in the realm of literature.

Yes, it's been a very good book year so far. And more to come...two of my favorite authors have new releases this month. Jodi Picoult, and Chris Bohjalian. Good thing my birthday's coming up...

Third Day Book Club-Secret Smile

"Some things, when you look back on them, seem like a dream. But this wasn't a dream, although later I remembered it like a moment snatched out of time and haunting my memory forever." ~Secret Smile, by Nicci French

Imagine casually dating someone, breaking it off after a few weeks because you catch him invading your privacy by reading your diary, and then having that same guy turn up a month later as your sister's fiance. To make it worse, he's claiming that he's the one who ended your relationship, and he sets out systematically sabotaging your life and literally destroying your family. That's no dream, that's a nightmare! But it happens to Miranda, the protagonist of Secret Smile, a suspenseful psychological thriller by Nicci French, and the choice of this month's Third Day Book Club.

Secret Smile is quite a contrast from the other books I've read for Third Day, which were both "serious" works of literature. Book Club host Patry Francis offered us a less demanding read this time, and it came in handy for my week on the beach in Florida. Author Nicci French draws the reader in immediately, and kept me quite intriqued, wondering what insidious tactic Brendan would use next to undermine Miranda. Brendan stops at nothing - even murder - in his attempt to destroy Miranda's life.

I did feel the premise of the book was slightly unbelievable, and throughout my reading kept hoping Miranda would stand up for herself with her family and friends, who always seemed to accept Brendan's verision of things and were never willing to believe Miranda's assessment of Brendan's character. French very successfully painted him as a slimey, distasteful character, easy to dislike from a reader's perspective, and I was desperately hoping he'd get his "comeuppance" in the end.

Secret Smile, while not the best suspense novel I've ever read, successfully distracted me from the tedium of a two hour plane ride, and continued to entertain me for an afternoon in the sun.

Third Day Book Club-Suite Francaise

Last week when I was in Florida, I indulged in one of my favorite pastimes - beach reading. I took my book, my sand umbrella, and my tinted reading glasses, and parked myself where I could hear the Gulf of Mexico's gently lapping waves. I took a break from reading to stroll down the beach a ways, doing a little people watching, and was really surprised to notice someone reading Irene Nemirovsky's Suite Francaise (this month's selection for the Third Day Book Club). This historical novel was written in the thick of World War II; Part I, Storm in June, chronicles the mass exodus from Paris just prior to the Nazi invasion in 1940, while Part II, Dolce, depicts the complex lives of residents in a small occupied village. Not exactly what I'd call light beach reading. "I just finished that book myself," I said to my sun worshipping neighbor. "What do you think of it?"

"I was hoping it was more of a love story," she said with obvious disappointment. "I mean, this picture on the cover is very misleading, don't you think? I didn't realize it was so much about the war, and all these horrible things happening!"

"It is certainly a realistic look at that time period," I agreed. "After all, the author lived through it herself, you know, and actually died in a concentration camp."

"Oh, I know all that," she said dismissively. "I was just hoping for a little more romance. I'm just not really into all this history stuff."

"Mmm," I replied vaguely, wondering how to extract myself from this dead end converstation. "Well, enjoy your day!"

"Thanks, you too!" she replied, and went back to reading.

Suite Francaise is certainly not a romance, despite the cover photograph of a man and woman in 40's dress, his cheek pressed to her forehead. It is a fascinating, heartbreaking, extremely realistic account of what it meant to be a resident of France between 1940-1942. War affected everyone, from the wealthy Pericand family, to the Michaud's, a lowly bank clerk and his quiet wife. Everyone's life was changed as they took to the streets on foot or to the highways in their cars packed to the gills with their most prized possessions.

This book was hastily written as Nemirovsky and her husband tried to keep their two daughters safe from the Nazi regime. She intended the book to be more than 1000 pages, planning to construct it like a musical composition, in five movements based on theme and tone. It has the feel of a rough draft, a real sense of the author writing everything that comes into her head in an effort to get it all down on paper. When she was arrested in 1942, her young daughter managed to salvage the manuscript she had watched her mother spend so much time writing.

As I read the book, particularly Storm, I found myself thinking about the leveling factor of war, and of natural disasters like Hurricane Katrina. Rich or poor, upper class or lower class, suddenly everyone has the same goal -survival for themselves and their family.

"Who cared about the tragedy of their country? Not these people, not the people who were leaving that night. Panic obliterated everything that wasn't animal instinct, involuntary physical reaction. Grab the most valuable things you own in the world and then...! And on that night, only people - the living and breathing, the crying and the loving- were precious. Rare was the person who cared about their possessions; everyone wrapped their arms tightly round their wife or child and nothing else mattered; the rest could go up in flames."

My fellow reader on the beach in Naples was about my age, but, judging from her designer swim wear, chic haircut, and quietly understated makeup, she was probably a lot richer than I am. Perhaps she even lived in one of the multi million dollar high rises that litter this beachfront, or was a guest at the Ritz Carlton, only one of many resort hotels on the same path. However, come national disaster, like a 9/11 or a category five hurricane, she and I could end up in much the same position - just trying to save our lives, and the lives of those we love. Perhaps that is one of the great lessons of war, and one Nemirovsky makes perfectly clear ~ we come to know what is most valuable to us, and to what lengths we'll go to save it.

The Five Book Meme

I was intriqued by this one on BB and Susannah's site today, so here goes:

1. Take five books off your bookshelf;
2. Book #1 :First sentence: Best Friends, Martha Moody;
3. Book #2: Last sentence on page 50: Bird By Bird, Anne Lamott;
4. Book #3: Second sentence on page 100: Somehow Form A Family, Tony Earley;
5. Book #4: Next to the last sentence on page 150: My Latest Grievance, Elinor Lipman;
6. Book #5: Final sentence: Digging to America, Anne Tyler.

Put them all together, and here's what you get:

Really, all I wanted in a college was unrest and demonstrations. People hand me books and articles to read that they promise are fascinating, and I wake up holding the book with a jerk~like when you wake up from a little nap at the movies, thinking that you are falling out of an airplane. We are looking for ghosts together.

"Then why didn't she call me herself to tell me about her change of plans?" They looked up at her, and they started smiling, and they waited for her to join them.

It almost makes a crazy kind of sense, doesn't it?

In another wierd moment of synchronicity, just before I ran across this meme, I was reading Writing Down the Bones, by Natalie Goldberg, and she suggested a very similar exercise using sentences from your own writing. Here's her suggestion:

"Take one of your most boring pieces of writing, choose from it three or four consecutive sentences and write them at the top of a piece of blank paper. For about a third of a page, scramble them up as though you were moving blocks around. Don't try to make any sense of what you write down. Your mind will keep trying to construct something. Hold back that urge, relax, and mindlessly write down words. If you like, arbitrarily put in a few periods, a question mark, maybe an exclamation mark. Do all this without thinking, without trying to make any sense. Just have fun."

In doing this, Goldberg says we free our mind from the subject/verb/direct object structure, allowing us a "new engery" in which to view the world.

Anyone have the nerve to try this one?