When I was 9 or 10 and confined to bed with some common childhood illness, my mother brought me a book from the library to read. It happened to be These Happy Golden Years by Laura Ingalls Wilder, the last in the Little House series of books.

I was immediately charmed by and lost in this story of a young girl in the American West nearly one hundred years earlier than I was living. Perhaps I was drawn to that little girl because she thought “If I could live this way always, I’d never want anything more”. Maybe I just liked the glimpse into homemaking in the past. Whatever, for a kid who hated history in high school, I was captivated by Laura’s life and quickly sought out the rest of series.

At that time, Michael Landon was still cutting his teeth riding the range on Bonanza, and a long way from bringing Laura to the television prairies. The books alone were what taught me and enchanted me, so I picked this up for the Books That Made Me Love Reading Challenge.

Rereading as an adult, I’m stuck with the images of Melissa Gilbert and the rest of the TV cast in my head. But that didn’t diminish my enjoyment of this book since the show was particularly well cast. How could I not revel in passages like this one:
Before (the blackboard) stood the teacher’s desk, a boughten desk, smoothly varnished. It gleamed honey-colored in the sunlight, and on its flat top lay a large Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary.

As an adult, I can appreciate more that the author was actually speaking of herself; I don’t remember being aware of that as a child. I can also understand that Wilder didn’t write these stories until she was in her seventies. Of course, that would tend to lead to a romanticizing of her circumstances when she young, but even so, I think she had a genuinely happy childhood.

I know, too, that Laura’s father had what he called an “itchy foot” and uprooted the family several times moving westward. In fact, in this book, on the claim in the Dakota territory where Pa & Ma did eventually settle, Pa still says “I would like to go West. A fellow doesn’t have room to breathe here anymore.” He had seen as Almanzo had that “This country is settling up fast. We have driven only forty miles and we must have seen as many as six houses.” He must have been a hard one to put up with, that Charles Ingalls. As an adult, I have a greater appreciation for Laura’s mother.

Yes, I’ve read the controversy about whether the books were actually written by Laura’s daughter Rose Wilder Lane who was in journalism, but they are Laura’s stories, and if she needed help getting them through the publishing process, then fine. But they are still her stories.

And I still love them as much as ever.

For Canadian readers:
These Happy Golden Years
The Little House Collection Box Set

From Amazon.com: “Griffin: It’s good to get in touch with you at last. Could I have one of your fish postcards? I think you were right — the wine glass has more impact than the cup.” –Sabine
But Griffin had never met a woman named Sabine. How did she know him? How did she know his artwork? Who is she? Thus begins the strange and intriguing correspondence of Griffin and Sabine. And since each letter must be pulled from its own envelope, the reader has the delightful, forbidden sensation of reading someone else’s mail.”

An illustrated novel, Griffin & Sabine: An Extraordinary Correspondence is a beautiful book. I don’t think I really give anything away by telling you that Sabine somehow “shares (Griffin’s) sight” and can see his paintings as he creates them. Sabine is also an artist, and the artwork of the two adorns the postcards and envelopes that they exchange.

As the first book opens, Sabine contacts Griffin for the first time. The artwork (particularly Sabine’s) starts out with jewel like colors and items from nature: parrots, salamanders and goldfish.

But as the book progresses and Sabine tells Griffin more and more of the things she has seen so that he cannot deny the truth of what she is telling him, Griffin seems to lose his grip on sanity and paints increasingly darker subjects: sightless naked baby birds and apocalyptic landscapes.

In Sabine’s Notebook: In Which the Extraordinary Correspondence of Griffin & Sabine Continues, Sabine travels to London to Griffin’s studio but, faced with the terrifying prospect of meeting his own fictional character, Griffin flees and, as he travels the world, corresponds with Sabine at home in his house. The art reflects his travels and his new found determination that Sabine is real. Initially anyway, the countries he visits take him backward in history—Rome, Greece, Egypt.

Once again, the story is told in strangely beautiful postcards and richly decorated letters that must actually be removed from their envelopes to read. But Sabine’s Notebook is also a sketchbook and a diary.

The lovers agree to meet in London but their plans go awry. Sabine travels back to her South Sea home without making face-to-face contact with Griffin.

As The Golden Mean: In Which the Extraordinary Correspondence of Griffin & Sabine Concludes opens, the lovers realize that it seems that neither can exist in the presence of the other. Yet neither can continue without the presence of the other. Their search for the golden mean—that mystical point of harmony—dominates this third book.

The story continues in the same epistolary manner as the first two. The art work reflects their love and longing for each other.

You’ll read all three of these books in less than an hour and then spend many more hours poring over the artwork. The Griffin & Sabine Trilogy Set is a feast for the eyes and fun to read besides.

Written by Greg Gormley, illustrated by Robert Angaramo

Dog In Boots is a lovable brown and white terrier-type pooch who reads a “brilliant book” about a cat with a truly magnificent pair of boots and thinks he would like the same. Happily (or not), the local shop owner has just such a thing – but our dog finds that perhaps they are not such a good idea after all. After a number of attempts at finding the ideal footwear, Dog finds the perfect paws for his activities.

This is a gentle tale about being happy with what you are that seemed to go over three-year-old Steven’s head, although I quite enjoyed the imaginative uses and problems of various types of footwear.

We both loved the colorful illustrations. Dog is an earnest sweetie who wears his dog heart on his sleeve, and simple emotions on his face. There were just enough details in the pictures (frightened fishes, doggie friends, a curious bird who appeared often) to keep a child’s interest and to provide opportunity for ancillary questions as we read, but not so many as to overwhelm a young listener.

I was particularly tickled by the end papers which showed Dog with his various footwear at the beginning of the book, and, at the back of the book, with an assortment of hats that he might have worn after reading Little Red Riding Hood as the story closed.

Overall, Dog In Boots is a lovely book. (4½)

Buy Dog in Boots at Amazon.com
Buy Dog in Boots at Amazon.ca

Written by James Herriot, and illustrated by Ruth Brown

Just what you would expect from Herriot: a lovely, rather meandering tale of a stray dog in the market. The story was perhaps a little too meandering for a three-and-a-half year old, but Grams sure liked it.

The beautiful water-color-like illustrations show us mid-century Yorkshire in its glory, and maintain the cozy mood (and happy ending) of the story. (4 stars)

Buy The Market Square Dog at Amazon.com
Buy The Market Square Dog at Amazon.ca

Written and illustrated by Rebecca Bender

Giraffe and Bird act like they can’t stand each other – and that’s what they say. But deep down, they need and want each other. Some of the situations they get each other into are amusing.

In families with a lot of squabbling, this book would make a valuable point. But Steven couldn’t get it – if you like someone, you treat them well. Really, you try to treat everyone well.

We did get some laughs – when giraffe sneezed because Bird was preening his feathers – and that makes Bird fall upside down. And some days Bird eats extra berries (that contain lots of fiber…)

Anyway, what make this book are the illustrations. Bender has captured facial expression, especially on the giraffe, that are hilarious. (4 stars)

Buy Giraffe and Bird at Amazon.com
Buy Giraffe and Bird at Amazon.ca

Written and illustrated by Jon Klassen
Bear has lost his hat and is making his way through the forest asking each of the animals in turn if they have seen it.

This is a delightful book to read to young children. It was fun for me to narrate, as the story is told completely in dialogue. Three-year-old Steven loved back & forth interchanges between the bear and the other animals.

The illustrations are primitive in style and mostly sepia toned, but Steven loved them, identifying the different animals easily and quickly.

For beginning readers, the word choice is basic; for those who are just learning to follow along with the text, the voices of the different animals are in different colored ink.

The story twist, though, that I found so delightful went right over Steven’s head. He didn’t recognize the different speech pattern used by the liar – either the hat thief or the bear’s final declaration.

The book pleased Steven at three & a half and will likely continue to do so for the next year or two as he grows and learns to distinguish truth from lies, and appreciate the unsaid as well as the obviously stated. (4 stars)

Buy I Want My Hat Back at Amazon.com
Buy I Want My Hat Back at Amazon.ca

Written by Thomas King and illustrated by Johnny Wales

Every evening, Old Woman and the animals gather at the pond to serenade the moon. They won’t let Coyote join them because they think he has a terrible singing voice. His feelings hurt, Coyote insults the moon, who hears him and decides to go on a vacation.

Without the moon’s light, Old Woman and the animals stumble about in the dark. When all efforts to entice the moon back fail, they ask coyote to join them in one last desperate scheme.

I wasn’t impressed with either the art work or the story in this book, but Steven loved it. After a difficult day, he sat enthralled while I read about the interactions of the forest animals and the moon.

Perhaps he liked the ‘singing’ bits where Grams tried to howl like a coyote (and he joined in). (3½ stars)

Buy Coyote Sings to the Moon at Amazon.com
Buy Coyote Sings to the Moon at Amazon.ca

FAILED TO COMPLETE

So, yes, I’ve already entered Library of Clean Reads’ Short Story Reading Challenge which requires me to read entire collections of short stories.

But the Short Story Reading Challenge hosted by Dead Book Darling asks me to read 12 individual short stories. This will allow me more latitude to find a variety of authors. I’m looking forward to this!

1. A Lesson on the Links by Stephen Leacock
2. The Landlady by Roald Dahl
3. The $64 Tomato by William Alexander

Alas, although I read many more short stories and certainly in excess of 12 authors, I failed to blog about them.

Over this past year, I’ve managed to read 121 books. You can see the complete list, by genre & in ranked order here. To see an alphabetical listing by author’s last name, go here.

I ranked most of those 121 books 3 or 4 stars. There were some, though, that I thought merited top ratings. Here’s my list of picks for the year.

Best Book I read in 2011, hands-down: A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry. It rates five plus, plus, plus stars and will become one of my lifetime bests.
Set in 1975 India during “The Emergency” when the Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi, “ruled by decree”, A Fine Balance tells the stories of four people who, because of circumstances, end up living together in a small flat. It’s a sweeping and powerful novel that has been compared to works of Tolstoy or Dickens. A rich study of a difficult time in India’s history, it features complex and flawed characters. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

The next fifteen best non-mystery novels I read in 2011:
1. Barney’s Version by Mordecai Richler
Driven to write his own memoirs by his sworn enemy’s public statement that he is a wife abuser, an intellectual fraud and probably a murderer, Barney Panofsky tells an absurd but at least partially believable story. Set in Paris, Montreal and the Haliburtons, it’s an unforgettable love story, a story about family and the riches of friendship. I loved the uncertainty that Richler was able to maintain throughout the book – did Barney kill Boogie, or did he not? Is Barney’s memory failing? Is he in denial? The ending, that I should have seen coming, caught me completely off guard and settled matters once and for all. I recommend this for people who: love literary fiction, enjoy family sagas, like Canadian references and settings, or those who appreciate a potent ending to a story.

2. Altamont Augie by Richard Barager
This novel is a riveting story of the 1960s youth culture and the politics of the Vietnam War from that point of view. It’s provided much fuel for discussion in our household and food for thought. It’s been a while since I’ve read such a thought-provoking book, one that stays with me as Augie has. Read this if: you were there, man, and want to know more about both sides of the ideological battle of that decade, or if you missed the 1960s and want a captivating introduction.

3. The Stone Angel by Margaret Laurence
A tour de force of Canadian literature, this book is the story of 90-year-old Hagar Shipley, told in flashbacks as she struggles with her declining abilities. Laurence writes in an authentic voice, with brevity of words but deep insight. The Stone Angel should be read by anyone who has an aging friend or relative.

4. A Dog’s Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron
Not great literature, but a wonderful read, A Dog’s Purpose is told from the point of view of the titular dog throughout his four lives. Cameron keeps the concept of a canine narrator from becoming overly cutesy and maintains a roller coaster ride of emotions for the reader. I recommend it for all readers, of all ages, who have ever loved a dog.

5. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
Set in WWII Germany, this is the story of a young girl and her best friend, the boy down the street. In a twist that makes it stand out from other books in this genre, the story is narrated by Death. If you love to own books, you’ll appreciate this YA novel.

6. Oscar & Lucinda by Peter Carey
Set in Australia in the late 19th century, this is the story of two social misfits who form a friendship despite the taboos of the day. Set in both the city and the wilderness, it is a brilliant depiction of Australia as the 1800s draw to a close, and the country struggles to reconcile their English sensibilities to the reality of life in a raw new place. Made into a movie (with a completely different ending) starring Cate Blanchett and Ralph Fiennes. Read this if you love literary fiction, want to learn about 19th century southern Australia, or don’t need happy endings.

7. Amy and Isabelle by Elizabeth Strout
In the very hot New England summer of 1969, mother and daughter learn about life, love, and each other. This is literary fiction that verges on women’s fiction but doesn’t quite fall into that category. Read it if you enjoy a coming of age story with an edge.

8. February by Lisa Moore
On February 15, 1982 the oil rig The Ocean Ranger sank in Canadian waters off Newfoundland, with all hands lost. February is the fictional account of one woman whose husband died in the disaster. Moore has brilliantly captured the physical and emotional cold of that winter. Read this if you: appreciate learning about the human toll behind the headlines.

9. People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks
“The book” is a five-hundred-year-old copy of a Jewish Haggadah, a text used at Passover meals. This real-life treasure came to light in Sarajevo in the 1990s and Brooks has imagined a rich history for it in this novel. Fans of historical fiction will eat this up, but it’s also a treat for all lovers of books.

10. Room by Emma Donaghue
This is the story of five-year-old Jack and his mother and their life as prisoners in an 11×11 foot storage locker (the titular Room). Eventually, they devise a plan for escape and make it out into the world. This is a book about the indomitability of the human spirit, the capacity to adapt, and the power of love. Recommended for parents, but also for those interested in the effects of social deprivation.

11. Wrecker by Summer Wood
In 1969 San Francisco, young single mother Lisa Fay finds herself swept into a drug deal and looking at 15 years in jail before parole. Her young son, Wrecker—named for his destructive tendencies—is sent to live with Lisa Fay’s sister, Meg, and her husband Len in Humboldt County, California, although Lisa Fay is not aware of his fate. Wrecker is never cliché in its setting or its emotions. As much as it is a story of being foster or adoptive parents, it is not one-sided. I felt as empathetic toward Lisa Fay as I did toward Melody. There are beautiful insights and rich emotion, caught in spare and lovely prose. Recommended for anyone with children, and those interested in the dynamics of families of all kinds.

12. Postcards by E. Annie Proulx
Publisher’s description: “Winner of the 1993 Pen/Faulkner Award for Fiction, Postcards tells the mesmerizing tale of Loyal Blood, who misspends a lifetime running from a crime so terrible that it renders him forever incapable of touching a woman. Blood’s odyssey begins in 1944 and takes him across the country from his hardscrabble Vermont hill farm [to present day California] (…)In his absence, disaster befalls his family; greatest among their terrible losses are the hard-won values of endurance and pride that were the legacy of farm people rooted in generations of intimacy with soil, weather, plants, and seasons. Postcards chronicles the lives of the rural and the dispossessed and charts their territory with (…) historical verisimilitude and writerly prowess. (…) It is a new American classic”. Recommended for those interested in post WWII America, readers of literary fiction, and people who don’t need neat and happy endings.

13. Late Nights on Air by Elizabeth Hay
This novel, set in 1975 and 1976 Yellowknife (capital of North-West Territories, Canada), is the story of a group of people who operate the radio station there, and their canoe trip into the wilds of The Barrens, following the route of doomed explorer John Hornby. Read it if you’re interested in the Canadian North, the CBC or enjoy literary fiction.

14. The Stone Diaries by Carol Shields
Classic CanLit, the Stone Diaries garnered the author the Governor General’s Award, the National Book Critics Circle Award, and the Pulitzer Prize. Described as a family album set to a novel, it’s the account of 90-something Daisy Goodwill’s life from birth to death… Jeffrey Canton says: “Shields includes a variety of other documents and perspectives–letters that Daisy received over the years, a list of her bridal trousseau, an occasional reminiscence by a son, daughter, or family friend, an objective third-person description of a house, and a wonderful collection of photos that supposedly come from the Goodwill family–which give us the sense that this is more than just fiction. Here we have a rare glimpse into the nooks and crannies of an ordinary life as we watch Daisy cope with love, marriage, children, gardening, old age, and death.” It’s rich and real and I recommend it for lovers of literary fiction, and those who enjoy a book that covers the passage of decades.

15. The Book of Lies by Mary Horlock
This novel is set on Guernsey in the Channel Islands in 1985 and, in memories and flashback, during the German occupation of the Islands during WWII. It’s told from the point of view of a teenaged girl who is hiding her involvement with the death of a school mate. The Book of Lies is a well-told story with lots of new-to-me information. If you’re interested in Guernsey, or how WWII affected ordinary people, especially those in Occupied countries, this is the book for you.

The five best mysteries I read in 2011:
1. Five Little Pigs: Hercule Poirot mystery #24 by Agatha Christie
Considered to be among the very best from the grande dame’s pen, this Hercule Poirot mystery focuses on five suspects in a 16-year-old murder. Told in Poirot’s conversation with each, and then an accounting by each in a follow-up letter, at first it seemed repetitive. Then I began to notice small inconsistencies between the stories. This is one of the only Christies that I have solved partway through the book, but rather than being disappointed that it was easy (it wasn’t, )I was fascinated to watch the author misdirecting readers. Very satisfying, and worthy of its reputation

2. A Murder is Announced: Miss Marple mystery #4 by Agatha Christie
This features Miss Marple and is considered to be one of the best books written by this author. It’s a great mystery with classic misdirection, and a wonderful period piece.

3. Thereby Hangs a Tail: Chet & Bernie mystery #2 by Spencer Quinn
This is the second book in the delightful Chet & Bernie series. Chet is the canine half of the PI team and the story is told through his eyes. This mystery revolves around a missing show dog named Princess and her owner, who we learn early on, has been murdered. But Chet can’t convey that to Bernie and so Bernie must discover it for himself. Chet’s advanced doggie senses of hearing and smell bring interesting angles to the story.

4. To Fetch a Thief: Chet & Bernie mystery #3 by Spencer Quinn
This is the third in the Chet & Bernie mystery series, of which I am a huge fan. In this story, the intrepid detectives track a stolen circus elephant across the California desert. Chet is, as ever, endearing. This series is outstandingly readable, the mysteries are solid, and Chet’s observations can be laugh-out-loud funny. You will not be able to help yourself from feeling good when you’re reading these. Recommended for lovers of cozy mysteries, especially those who love a dog.

5. Holmes on the Range: The Amlingmeyer brothers mystery #1 by Steve Hockensmith
This is the first in what promises to be a delightful series: brothers Old Red & Big Red Amlingmeyer are cowboys in the American west of the 1890s, but Old Red harbors a deep admiration for the exploits of one Sherlock Holmes. The mystery is solid and the brothers extremely likable. Read this if you love take-offs on Sherlock Holmes, or if you’d like a cozy look at the American west of the late 19th century.

The best non-fiction I read in 2011:
1. A Clockwork Universe: Isaac Newton, the Royal Society, and the Birth of the Modern World by Edward Dolnick
Dolnick has written a compelling, extremely readable history of the birth of modern science, including calculus, which explains the world around us. Fascinating and recommended for lovers of math, science or history.

2. In the Queens’ Parlor by Ellery Queen
This is a compilation of behind the scenes observations on authors, publishing, plotting, naming and other mysteries of mysteries by Manfred Lee and Frederic Dannay who wrote scores of mystery novels as the fictional Ellery Queen. First published in 1942 and updated several times, the last in 1957. It’s out of print, but I was lucky enough to get a copy on inter-library loan. I loved it and recommend it for all EQ lovers, and those who enjoy other vintage mysteries.

3. Building the Pauson House: the letters of Frank Lloyd Wright & Rose Pauson
Told in the form of more than fifty previously unpublished letters written between 1938 and 1943–alongside rare site photographs and Wright’s architectural drawings–Building the Pauson House: The Letters of Frank Lloyd Wright and Rose Pauson chronicles the design and construction of that house, as well as the architect-client relationship. Beautifully laid out, it is a feast for the eyes and will be pored over for much longer than the evening it takes to read. And who should read this? For sure, architects and their apprentices. But it also contains valuable lessons for anyone having a home built. Students of design or architecture, lovers of Wright’s work or the Arts and Crafts movement in general, those interested in history, the desert environment, or the psychology of letters: any of these would be delighted with this volume.

COMPLETED

Collections of short stories aren’t eligible for a lot of reading challenges so even though I have a large one on my 2012 Bucket List and another in mind for a prize-winners challenge, I can’t count them for anything else. When I saw The 2012 Short Story Reading Challenge, hosted by Laura over at Library of Clean Reads, I knew I was in.

I’m entering at the Tell Me a Story level of 1 – 3 books. That will be another notch on my Challenge Addict belt.

1. My Financial Career & Other Follies by Stephen Leacock

2. The Innocence of Father Brown by G.K. Chesterton

3. African Love Stories edited by Ama Ata Aidoo

4. QBI: Queen’s Bureau of Investigation by Ellery Queen

5. The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury

6. The Museum of Dr. Moses by Joyce Carol Oates

7. The Beggar’s Garden by Michael Christie

8. Bush Studies by Barbara Baynton

For the greater part of his life, Seth Steinzor has been enraptured by Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy. He loved, among other things, the “vivid sensory images, powerful spirituality (and) wicked humor”. To communicate the powerful effect Dante had on him, Steinzor “undertook to rewrite the Comedy as if it had happened to [him]; not as a translation or as an adaptation, but as [his] own experience.” Thus was born To Join the Lost, a modern telling of The Inferno, the first part of Dante’s classic work.

Where Dante was led through hell by the Roman poet Virgil, Steinzor has as his guide none other than Dante himself. This is a clever device that allows comment on the original story and changes Steinzor has made. As Dante observes to him: “But here, where all is lost, the more it changes, the more it’s the same.”

Although human nature remains the same, there are, of course, societal differences between Dante’s world of 1300 and Steinzor’s twenty-first century reality. To the procurers and seducers of Dante’s eighth circle are joined “your porno movie makers; ad execs who swore by the creed, sex sells; (…) wife beaters;“and so on.

Although many will agree that many of the groups Steinzor now incorporates into hell (Wall Street raiders, real estate developers) should indeed be there, some will no doubt take exception to individuals that he includes: Gandhi, Mohammed, and Thomas Jefferson among others. I’m sure that there were those who objected in Dante’s day, to his version. Not all of the individuals are immediately recognizable and many references sent me to Wikipedia, but Dante himself must be approached, as Steinzor says: “though dense encrustations of footnotes”, so I have no complaint with that.

In some cases, I thought the people included in certain areas didn’t reflect Dante’s reasoning at all, but a perspective that is clearly the author’s. Because Steinzor did not just update Dante’s vision: he experienced his own version of the inferno. Some of that change is wrought by differences in both religious outlook & nationality of the two narrators: Dante being a devout Florentine Catholic and Steinzor, a self-admitted ‘agnostic-Jewish-Buddhist-American’.

For example, Steinzor finds Limbo uninhabited.
“Where are all the souls you wrote
you saw here – the virtuous pagans?” I asked (…)”
Flown,” he said, “released by your
‘uncertain disbelief,’ I’ll call it,
from the suspense in which my certainties hung them.”

Satan himself is portrayed as a Disney World version of the Wizard of Oz, located in a silo shaped container at the center of hell:modeled
upon the humble agricultural/
and military storage facilities/ that
dot America’s heartland/ reminding
awestruck visitors/ that the seeds of the past are
missiles aimed at the future (…)

Indeed, Satan now has office hours (9-5 weekdays), a reception area that presents a promotional film, and a souvenir stand. Notably, Satan is absent during Steinzor’s visit. Truly, one wonders how hell itself exists in Steinzor’s reality, given his religious ambiguity.

The author has also retained the ‘wicked humor’ of his mentor. We can clearly see Dante rolling his eyes in this passage: A face,
distorted with rage, rose near us, howling hate.
My guide glancing down, then up to the clouds, said,
Filippo Argenti, you won’t have me this time,
either (…)

Where the book is most touching though, is when Steinzor relates his own life experiences: the friend who committed suicide, or his grandparents’ sad lost dreams. The 19 line ‘story’ of the sexual pervert who approached him in a public shower in his teens left me with my mouth open in horror, sympathy and revulsion.

At the heart of To Join the Lost is the poetry. I believe this work is presented in 10 line stanzas of free verse. This is not necessarily an easy form to work. As T. S. Eliot observed, “No verse is free for the man who wants to do a good job.” I believe Steinzor has done just that.

Steinzor’s words flow and many of his metaphors are breathtaking and sometimes powerfully precise.
Soon I was treading on a trail of my tears,
dark grey dots on lighter grey.

What does it take to achieve the status of a Dante? Perhaps 700 years of posterity. Steinzor, of course, does not have that. But I do hope that readers will look beyond their personal opinions of the inhabitants of his hell and recognize the beauty in this writing that has indeed presented this trip through the Inferno as if it had happened to the present-day author.

Seth Steinzor’s website: To Join the Lost

TLC Book Tours site for To Join the Lost: November Tour

Thank you to the author and TLC Book Tours for sending me this review copy.

“What kind of man goes to one of the biggest rock concerts of the sixties, manages to drown in a nearby irrigation canal an hour into the show, and is never identified?”

With that opening sentence, Altamont Augie by Richard Barager grabbed my attention and riveted me for 300 pages.

The 1969 concert held at Altamont Raceway outside San Francisco was meant to be California’s version of Woodstock, but became an infamous debacle after concert security (manned by Hell’s Angels) stabbed a man to death. (This is not the fictional man who drowned in the canal.)

Richard Barager’s debut novel is set against the back drop of 1960s America, the Vietnam War, and the ever increasingly violent anti-war protests of the time. It is the story of David and Jackie, young people on opposite sides of those divisive issues, but who have a passion for each other that connects them through it all. David’s story unfolds in Vietnam, Jackie’s at the University of Minnesota and in California. After David’s tour of duty, he returns to the States and takes up his relationship with Jackie who is now involved with Kyle Levy, a militant anti-establishment activist.

The identity of the man in the canal is determined early on in the book but the answer to the question “What kind of man…?” remains, and is answered by the story that follows. The plot advances steadily and evenly over the five year period from 1964 to 1969, building to a climax at the Altamont concert.

I came of age in the late sixties and early seventies and although I was just a year or two too young for Woodstock, I embraced the ‘summer of love’ and peace movement ideology as most of my friends did. Being Canadians removed us from the immediate political arena around Vietnam, allowing us to see the issue from only one side. It was the era of not only “Mary Quant miniskirts, white go-go boots, flash cubes, color broadcasting on all three networks, and static-free radio”; to us the times were world-changing and thus clothed in importance and valour. So I was astounded to read the narrator’s opinion: “No matter how absurd the decade appeared in the century’s rear-view mirror, it had at least aspired to be relevant.” Absurd?! We were absurd? No way!

Barager’s writing style is slightly pretentious in his use of large words on nearly every page. Gems such as ‘senescence’, ‘leporine’, and ‘reliquary’ at first sent me running to my dictionary. But that was interrupting the story, so I marked them for further research and determined from the context meanings close enough to allow me to understand the story and move on.

But the overdone vocabulary is my only complaint about this book. Barager has crafted a keenly insightful look into the politics of the 1960s, presenting both sides, but with a protagonist who represents a view that was decidedly unpopular among youth of the day. How had it come to this, he wondered, needing to persuade an entire generation of Americans that it was better to win a war than to lose one? In some ways, this is a courageous book, as many still hold those views of their youth, and America and perhaps the world may still be as divided as ever on that issue.

But I would urge you to keep an open mind and read this book. I learned a lot about the decade that I’d not known – because I was young, because I’m Canadian, and because my friends accepted the issues superficially, as did many youth. Even if you were more involved in the politics of the era, you’ll be certain to learn aspects of the fight on both sides that will make you reflect. If you missed the sixties the first time around, I can’t think of a better introduction to the issues of the day than Altamont Augie.

When I first read Altamont Augie, I rated it 4.5 stars but over the last month and a half, it’s provided much fuel for discussion in our household and food for thought. It’s been a while since I’ve read such a thought-provoking book, one that stays with me as Augie has, so I’ve upped my rating to a full five stars,

Altamont Augie for my Canadian readers

Altamont Augie for Kindle

In an effort to expand my reading horizons, I decided to take up the gauntlet laid down by Serena at Savvy Verse and Wit and join the Fearless Poetry Exploration Challenge. After all, all that’s required is to read one book of poetry – and review it.

I’ll tell you upfront – I know nothing about what makes poetry good, and I’ve not done my homework by reading any of Molly Peacock’s books, as Serena suggests. I’m just going by the old “I don’t know art but I know what I like” premise in evaluating this book. Pity the author!

Intrigued by the blurb on LibraryThing Early Reviewers which told me to “imagine a John Coltrane solo, with words instead of tenor sax”, I requested (and won) Soul Clothes by Regina D. Jemison.

The book is divided into three sections. The first, God Gave Me Words, deals with the frustrations of daily life and opens promisingly:

I’ve been busy chasin’
chasin’ children
chasin’ money
chasin’ men

No time to write
my blues away; chasin’

gave me the blues…

When I read those opening lines, I saw immediately the busyness of life, the seemingly endless round of activities, with no “me” time to rejuvenate, to chase away the blues.

In this section, there is a lawyer’s prayer (Jemison has her own law practice in Detroit, Michigan) as well as comment on America’s penal system, white privilege, and being black.

The second part of the book, carrying the book’s title, considers being a woman and includes WOMEN WAITING: breast cancer, a story, and an impassioned Lover, I Can’t Make You, that opens

I can’t make u love me,
Black Man, lover

and in which most women will recognize ay least one of the relationships they’ve had with a man in their lives.

The third section of Soul Clothes is Divine Reflections. Although Jemison’s strong faith runs throughout the book and touches on nearly every topic she considers, it is in this part of the book that she addresses her beliefs more directly, including giving a description of what seems to be her view of heaven.

I have seen it, my legs dangle off the edge.

In the foreword to this slim volume, Stephen Marsh tells us that “Jemison believes her life mission is to empower and prepare people to be their divine self at all times and under any and all circumstances.” It would appear that his metaphoric “one of God’s own trombones” is less metaphysical than I had assumed when I requested this book.

It would not be fair if I did not acknowledge that the implied and direct language of Jemison’s faith made me uncomfortable. Nonetheless, there are strong expressions about life here, many of which caused me to meditate on the world, its pains, and its joys.

Jemison makes it clear she is interested in “the divine possibilities of Black people in general, and the Black church in particular.“ I think Soul Clothes will especially appeal to women, to those interested in a Black perspective, and to those who share Jemison’s belief system.

Kindle edition:

Soul Clothes

Genre: Fiction

Note: This review contains spoilers.

Room: A Novel is the story of five-year-old Jack and his mother and their life as prisoners in an 11×11 foot storage locker (the titular Room). Eventually, they devise a plan for escape and make it out into the world.

Jack narrates the story and, told from his point of view, the horror of the prison sinks in only slowly. Ma was kidnapped before Jack’s birth and he has known no other life. The room contains his life and his world, and he is satisfied with it. They do have a television but Jack thinks of as being ‘outer space’(outside his ‘world’) and not real.

At first, it is a little annoying that Jack speaks of the objects in Room without definite articles. But the reason for that oddity in language is that these objects are who occupy his life.

For TV, I go in Rocker but Ma sits on Bed with Kit, she’s putting the hem back up on her brown dress with pink bits. We watch the medical planet where doctors and nurses cut holes to pull the germs out. The persons are asleep not dead. The doctors don’t bite the threads like Ma, they use super sharp daggers and after, they sew the persons up like Frankenstein.

Jack is slightly precocious but we must remember that Ma has had exclusive one-on-one time with him for five years to teach him, and she has tried to provide instruction, routine and life skills.

The story of Jack & Ma’s life in the room is compelling, and their escape attempt is suspenseful. But I found the really thought-provoking issues were the ones that Jack faced once he & Ma were in the outside world.

Everything is new for Jack – the people, the noise, the sun, even having to wear shoes. As he faces these challenges, Ma struggles with her own re-entry problems.

After some months in his new world, Jack needs to see Room to tie up emotional loose ends. This is heart-wrenching.

We step through the door and it’s all wrong, Smaller than Room and emptier and it smells weird. Floor’s bare, that’s because no Rug, she’s in my wardrobe in our Independent Living, I forgot she couldn’t be here at the same time. Bed’s here but there’s no sheets or Duvet on her. Rocker’s here and Table and Sink and Bath and Cabinet but no plates or cutlery on top, and Dresser and TV and Bunny with the purple bow on him, and Shelf but nothing on her, and our chairs folded up but they’re all different. Nothing says anything to me. “I don’t think this is it.” I whisper to Ma. “Yeah, it is.” Our voices sound not like us. “Has it got shrunk?” “No, it was always like this.”

I’ve spoken to a lot of people who’ve not read Room because they feel it’s too ‘dark’. On the contrary, this is a book about the indomitability of the human spirit, the capacity to adapt, and the power of love. Recommended.

Links for my Canadian readers:

Room

Genre: Literary Fiction

The Stone Angel is a tour de force of Canadian literature. I read this several years ago and then again this past month. The rereading exceeded my memories and expectations.

The book is the story of 90-year-old Hagar Shipley, told in flashbacks as she struggles with her declining abilities.

Hagar was born around 1875, the only daughter of a haughty and stern Scotsman, in the fictional town of Manawaka, Manitoba. Her mother died in child-birth and her father spoiled her and taught her to be proud:

God might have created heaven and earth and the majority of people, but Father was a self-made man, as he himself had told us often enough.

Hagar learned pride well—too well—and pride is her downfall throughout her life. Pride prevents her from taking her father’s advice not to marry Brampton Shipley; pride thwarts her from love in her marriage; pride keeps her from finding joy in her sons. Ultimately, Hagar has lived a loveless, unhappy life largely due to her own haughtiness and resulting failure to recognize and communicate her feelings.

Although she has accumulated wisdom from her mistakes, she seems to stubbornly refuse to relate it to herself, while liberally applying it to others.

Stupid girl. She knows nothing. Why won’t she praise him a little she’s so sharp with him. He’ll become fed up in a minute. I long to warn her—watch out, watch out, you’ll lose him.

Well, the poor thing…Fancy spending your life worrying about what people were thinking. She must have had a rather weak character.

Once strong and self-sufficient, Hagar now depends on her son and his wife, both in their sixties, for care, projecting her self-loathing at her physical infirmities onto those who try to help her.

She can’t sit still an instant, that woman. She’s like a flea. I am under the impression that I myself am sitting quite composedly on this uncomfortable chair until Doris turns to me with a faintly puckered forehead. “Try and sit quietly, Mother. The more you fidget, the longer a time it seems.”

Laurence writes in an authentic voice, with brevity of words but deep insight. Sometimes the sentences are so brief that one can miss the breathtakingly precise understanding of life.

It doesn’t seem so very long ago.

Things never look the same from the outside as they do from the inside.

Nothing is ever changed at a single stroke, I know that full well, although a person sometimes wishes it could be otherwise.

As Hagar’s life draws to a close, she seems to finally admit her failings to herself and the regret and anguish she felt touched me deeply:

Every good joy I might had held, in my man or any child of mine or even the plain light of morning, of walking the earth, all were forced to a standstill by some brake of proper appearances—oh, proper to whom? When did I ever speak the heart’s truth? Pride was my wilderness, and the demon that led me there was fear.

Published in 1964, The Stone Angel has been on Canadian high school English curricula for decades and, despite its eloquence & power, has earned the derision of many students. I think this is because youth doesn’t identify with aging, with the regrets of life, or long-term consequences of things done when they are young.

I maintain that The Stone Angel is Canadian Literature (CanLit) at its finest.

Link for my American readers:

The Stone Angel

There are only a few books I’ve encountered in my life that merit rereading multiple times—Mrs. Mike and Gone with the Wind spring to mind—but A Dog’s Purpose: A Novel for Humans by W. Bruce Cameron is definitely one to add to my list of favorites.

I’ll admit upfront: I’m a dog lover. Over the last twenty years, we’ve owned five dogs (two of them currently) and, although I think these guys are our last, life without a dog is difficult to imagine right now. So my feelings are ready to be drawn into a story about a dog that loves his people and longs to find his reason for living.

The story in A Dog’s Purpose is told from the point of view of the titular dog throughout his four lives. Okay – I don’t believe that humans are reborn, let alone animals. If you feel like I do, don’t let that stop you from reading this book anyway. Although the premise of the dog’s four lives is integral to the story, the story isn’t about that.

Cameron keeps the concept of a canine narrator from becoming overly cutesy by keeping the dog in character as far as understanding what humans are saying. Although he’ll quote their conversations for us, he relays them rather than comprehends them. What he understands of human language is what an average dog would: his name and the commands that he’s been taught.

But the dog fathoms humans and their interactions with each other, and with animals, through other means: mainly scents (and emotions give off scents). He understands other animals in the same way, although he relates to them more on a peer level.

Tinkerbell needed constant assurance from me now that she was the only cat—several times a day I’d awaken from a nap to find her pressed up against me or, even more disconcerting, standing and staring at me. I didn’t understand her attachment to me and knew it was not my purpose in life to be a substitute mother for a feline, but I didn’t mind it much and even let her lick me sometimes because it seemed to make her happy.

The dog also learns from his experiences in each life.

I was beginning to realize that life was far more complicated than it had appeared to be in the Yard [in his first life] and that it was people who were in charge of it, and not dogs. What mattered was not what I wanted, what mattered was that I was (with) Ethan… being his companion.

And, again:

I understood that what was expected of me was to live with the new rules, the way I’d learned to live with Ethan going to do college… a dog’s job was to do what people wanted.

I read A Dog’s Purpose while we were driving through eastern Ontario on a road trip. I laughed out loud many a time and wanted to read passage after passage out loud to my husband; a few minutes later, I’d be sobbing uncontrollably with tears streaming down my face. When we made pit stops, I frantically wiped away streaked mascara and powdered as much of my face as I could to hide the red blotches. The roller-coaster emotional ride of reading this book is much like owning a dog: lots of fun and joy throughout its life, and grief at the end of it when you lose a dear companion.

I borrowed this book from my local library but I’m going to buy a copy for my shelf, to have on hand to lend to friends and to reread myself. Is this great literature? Heck, no. A great read? You bet! I recommend it for all readers, of all ages, who have ever loved a dog.

Links for my Canadian Readers:

Gone with the Wind

What would you do if you suddenly lost your high-powered, high-pressure job in a declining industry, and received a year’s severance pay? Hit the pavement? Take up a hobby? Stay under the covers?

The author of Unfinished Business: One Man’s Extraordinary Year of Trying to Do the Right Things, Lee Kravitz, faced just such a situation in his mid-fifties. After taking stock of seemed to be a very successful life, he decided to spend that year reconnecting to the people in his life. As he says:

As good as my life looked on paper, it was sorely lacking in the one area that puts flesh on meaning: human connectedness.

We all have the kind of unfinished business to which Kravitz refers in the title of his book—emotional loose ends: old friends we’ve lost touch with, promises we made but didn’t keep, family we’ve grown apart from, things unsaid that need saying.

By the time we reach our fifties, most of us have accumulated a long list of such items, partly because we think we’ll get to them later, we need our own time, we’re busy with other things, or it’s just too difficult to or embarrassing to carry through. It’s true that as Kravitz says,

If we remembered how we could be separated from our loved ones at any moment, we would accumulate a lot less unfinished business.

In Kravitz’s year of making amends, he set out on ten ‘journeys’, including catching up with a loved aunt who had drifted out of his life, making an over-due condolence call, paying a 30-year-old debt to an associate, looking up a mentor of his youth, and visiting a high-school friend who is now a Greek Orthodox monk. Along the way, he gains insights into himself and into what really makes a life – his and ours.

Reading this book has made me aware of the emotional loose ends in my own life, but being aware and taking the time and effort to do something are two different things. Kravitz recognized how much of a struggle it would be to keep up the rekindled relationships on an on-gong basis once he ‘re-entered his life’. He determined to make time, and so should we all. I would be interested in a follow-up from Kravitz: how has he handled that intention?

Of course, you’ll relate to this book if you’re a baby-boomer, beginning to question the value of what you’re achieved thus far in life, but don’t wait until then. Read this at twenty, thirty, or forty and perhaps you’ll prevent some of the regret that comes of losing touch over the years with the people you care about. After all, as Kravitz says:

Life goes fast. Click. You are fifteen. Click, click. You are fifty-five. Click, click. You are gone. And so are the people who loved and nurtured you.

Link for my Canadian readers:

Unfinished Business

Note: Amazon.ca is charging twice as much (19.44) as Amazon.com ($10.00 for hardcover), so if you’re in Canada, I’d suggest the Kindle version:

Unfinished Business: One Man’s Extraordinary Year of Trying to Do the Right Things

In 2007, L.A. based radio writer Napoli happened across an opportunity to spend several months in Bhutan, a tiny landlocked kingdom in the Himalayas. Bhutan has the distinction of measuring its success in Gross National Happiness rather than GNP, the only nation on earth to do so.

Its happiness seems to have come from its isolation from the rest of the world: there was no need for paper money until 40 years ago, wearing of traditional clothing (the women’s dress is called a kira) is mandatory, and television and Internet were banned until just over a decade ago.

Outsiders have not found it easy to visit either, since there are few roads and only one small airport to which only the government-owned airline (consisting of two planes) flies. In addition, there has long been a $200/day/person tourist tax for visitors (since raised to $250 per day)

But as the fifth king came to power, he insisted that his country have democratic elections for their administration, and gave the youth of Bhutan their own radio station Kuzoo FM. It was at this station that Napoli found herself as a volunteer advisor.

Some of the conditions may sound primitive by North American standards (outside water, no traffic lights, no credit cards, subsistence farming as the main occupation) but Napoli says:

For me, the prospect of a relatively media-free universe was a close to utopia as I could imagine…The promise of a place where life was simpler—unsaturated by the menacing forces of mainstream media…—appealed to me. That Bhutan was guided by intense spirituality, by connection to home and community, held great allure. I was tired of sleep-deprived, stressed-out, too-busy people who shirked downtime in the service of making money so they could buy more stuff; tired of it taking months to see dear friends who lived across town because traffic and overcommitment made it impossible to coordinate a shared meal.

This concept of a simpler life certainly appeals to me, as well—it’s part of the reason we left the city eight years ago and moved to the country—and so I was quite excited to receive this copy of Napoli’s Radio Shangri-La: What I Learned in Bhutan, the Happiest Kingdom on Earth.

Napoli narrates her first impressions of Bhutan and its people, and her ongoing experiences there (& on her return to L.A.) in a thoughtful and insightful manner that does not minimize the hardships of life there. She perceptively considers the present and future impact that contact with the outside world is having on the country.

It was a good thing the government was committed to Gross National Happiness, because that philosophy seemed a crucial necessity to offset the effects of a few hours in front of the television. “Happiness with what you have” wasn’t exactly the backbone philosophy of advertising and media and news.

When I read books, I often like to mark specific passages and quotes. My own books were becoming literally dog-eared from turned-down corners, and putting post-it notes in library books was cumbersome. I recently found these bronze book darts at Lee Valley (that’s not an affiliate link, BTW) and now can easily mark the dozen or so passages I usually find.

This photo shows you how fascinating I found Radio Shangri-la. There were so many points I wanted to share with you, but I suggest you get the book and read it yourself.

Links for my Canadian readers;

Radio Shangri-La: What I Learned in Bhutan, the Happiest Kingdom on Earth

Book darts from Lee Valley

A year and bit ago, I discovered the delightful new Chet & Bernie mystery series that began with Dog on It, which I reviewed here (third book down).

Thereby Hangs a Tail is the second book in the series and just delightful as the first. At the risk of repeating myself, Chet is the canine half of the PI team and the story is told through his eyes.

This mystery revolves around a missing show dog named Princess and her owner, who we learn early on has been murdered. But Chet can’t convey that to Bernie and so Bernie must discover it for himself. Chet’s advanced doggie senses of hearing and smell bring interesting angles to the story. But Chet’s no superdog, as evidenced by his typically canine memory:

Bernie (gave) me a private look. I knew those looks. This one meant…something, I forget.

Although Bernie is an environmentally aware all-round nice guy, he’s not perfect either (except in Chet’s eyes). He’s flawed enough to be real, good enough to be extremely likeable.

This series is outstandingly readable, the mysteries are solid, and Chet’s observations can be laugh-out-loud funny. You will not be able to help yourself from feeling good when you’re reading Thereby Hangs a Tail. After all, as Chet says to Bernie’s observation that life is pretty good:

Pretty good? Life was great! How could anyone miss that? It was right out there every day.

I’ve already reserved the next in the series, To Fetch a Thief at my local library. May there be many more to come.

Recommended.

Links for my Canadian readers:

“Behind the glamorous exterior of horse racing lies the gritty reality of the backside”: a competitive world of owners, trainers, vets, jockeys, and other hangers-on. In this particular backside, someone is killing horses and demanding protection money.

That’s the premise of Bullet Work, although the title does not refer to the method of killing but to some sort of exercise with the horses. Oddly enough, the author explains just about everything else involved in the backside, but passes by the one mention of “bullet work” in the story without explanation.

Exercise riders had been given instructions for each mount, whether that was a canter just to stretch the legs, a two-minute mile clip, or a bullet work.

Nonetheless, I learned a great deal about racetracks and horse racing from Bullet Work. O’Brien manages to clarify most terms peculiar to that environment without being condescending to the reader.

If only that clarity had carried over to the plot. This book is not really a mystery because clues are not given to the reader; instead the story is just told. The climax occurs too early, and the follow-up death seemed gratuitous—at least not necessary to the advancement or completion of the plot.

In addition, the writing is choppy. It seems as if O’Brien had written each setting, action, or explanation in a number of different ways, and then simply strung them all together without integrating the thoughts. Moreover, the structure of most sentences is a basic subject-verb configuration that becomes overly repetitive and jerky. Although the writing is grammatically correct and mostly free of spelling & punctuation errors, it seems to suffer from a lack of good editing.

I thank Cadence Marketing Group for this copy of Bullet Work. Steve O’Brien is clearly familiar with the backside of horse racing. If that’s something you’d like to learn more about while being mildly entertained, pick up your own copy of Bullet Work.

Link for my Canadian readers:
Bullet Work