And on the subject of contests...

Laurie Halse Anderson has extended the deadline of her book trailer contest! New deadline: October 31.

The challenge is this: make a book trailer for either Speak or Twisted and submit it to YouTube, and let her know that you've entered the contest. The details are all on Anderson's LiveJounral page. You have to be 21 or younger to enter.

An essay contest

The book for this year's Penguin's annual scholarship essay contest is Jane Eyre. The contest is open to high school juniors and seniors in the US. Students have until April to write and send their applications. Winners get $1000. (That should buy at least two terms' worth of textbooks.) And Jane Eyre's not a horrible read; in fact, it's on my list of favorite classics.

If you're a student eligible for this contest, let me take a moment to remind you that because this scholarship opportunity requires writing as essay (no more than three pages long--that's easy!), automatically the numbers of your competition are cut; there are a lot of students who just won't write an essay outside of English class. Some actually choose their colleges based on which ones don't require essays with the applications. Can you believe it? Lazy gits.

Topics

Select one of the following four topics:

1. Erica Jong, in her "Introduction," in the Signet Classic edition, states:
   The universe of JANE EYRE operates according to female laws. Jane's success as a heroine depends on her breaking all the rules decreed for nineteenth-century women." (p. viii). To what extent is Jane Eyre an appropriate heroine for the feminist movement? In what ways, if any, does she fall short? Give examples from the novel to support your conclusions.



2. In outline, the novel is a Victorian update of the Cinderella story; a non-descript young woman, poor and abused, catches the eye of a Prince Charming, powerful and wealthy. After a series of obstacles, she marries him, and they live happily ever after. Do you regard the Jane/Rochester story as a fairy tale? If so, discuss the reasons for your opinion. What elements make their love affair seem like a fantasy? Or, do you believe the love between them is realistic? If so, what accounts for their strong attachment to each other despite the differences between them?



3. Discuss the elements of "paranormal" or supernatural experiences in the novel. Use specific examples to illustrate the way characters' dreams and visions help advance the narrative, reveal psychological complexity, build suspense and evoke sympathy for the characters? You may also discuss the ways such elements enhance (or detract from) the overall realism in the novel.



4. Discuss the issue of social class in the novel. What overt or implied class differences exist between Jane, the governess, and her employers and her young charges? How is Jane's status different from that of other servants in the household? Use specific scenes that illustrate the social system that existed.

Fragile Things by Neil Gaiman

I love Neil Gaiman's graphic novel series The Sandman (which, yes, was first a comic book), and I highly recommend Neverwhere, American Gods and Coraline, so when a friend offered to lend me Fragile Things, how could I say no?

I didn't realize that it was a short story collection, and even though I just finished another short story collection, I jumped in to this one. I even read the introduction (something I'm usually inclined to skip), which was charming and succinct--a little background about each of the included stories. If you read this, don't skip the intro.

I warmed to the stories slowly, not really getting into the book until "Bitter Grounds" on page 85 (possibly because of the story's quasi-academic scene). After that, I found the stories more readable and more likable, though they seemed to get more gruesome. Many of the first stories (and some of the later ones) were (slightly) altered retellings of favorite childhood ghost stories; those (mostly) didn't meet my expectations for something authored by Neil Gaiman.

There are a few stories for which I would recommend the book as a whole (the joy of short story collections: you can skip what you don't find yourself enjoying): "Bitter Grounds," "Fifteen Painted Cards from a Vampire Tarot," "Strange Little Girls," and "The Monarch of the Glen." (The last story is An American Gods novella.) But if it's between Fragile Things and one of the other Gaiman works listed in the beginning, go for the other one.

A few lines I found interesting (or funny):

• I was beginning to wonder whether he had a right arm. Maybe the sleeve was empty. Not that it was any of my business. Nobody gets through life without losing a few things on the way.
• There's no making her do anything. Not her. She's Mary Poppins.
• I think the world will end in black-and-white, like an old movie.
• We save our lives in such unlikely ways.

I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman

I'm going to do something unusual today: I'm going to post a review of a book I read years ago, and can't get out of my head. I don't even have the book anymore. (I'm sorry I was eager to Bookcross it, though; I want it back.) So I write about it from memory--which may not be entirely accurate.

I Who Have Never Known Men is a strange science fiction book about a girl who is abducted when she is very young, taken who-knows-where, and kept in a round caged area in a round room for years. There are others in the cage--all women at least twenty years older than the narrator. They are fed by male guards, but they have no contact with them. When the opportunity to escape comes, the women take it. Outside and free, they find that they have no idea where they are, and they wander their strange surroundings looking for other survivors of their strange situation.

It's a hard book to recommend, because it's not a happy book. At all. But it's beautiful, and I loved the language (for all that it was translated from French) and the story and the narrator. So even though it's not a book that leaves you feeling that all is right with the universe, I do recommend it. I think that you, too, will find it haunting you years later--and you will be glad you read it.

Oh no! Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince release date changed!

I was just reading Blood of the Muse (no relation), which alerted me to the news that the release date for the sixth Harry Potter movie has been moved from November 21, 2008, to July 17, 2009.

That's a year of waiting!

How could they?

One More Year by Sana Krasikov

Sana Krasikov has an impressive and complicated life sparsely laid out in just a few sentences on the back of her collection of short stories One More Year. Born in the Ukraine and raised in the former Soviet Republic of Georgia and the US, I'm sure Krasikov finds many inspirations for her writing in the people of her childhood.

I expected a greater variation in her characters, but each story seemed just a little different from the last, with even the characters' names and personalities overlapping just enough that readers aren't immediately sure whether it's the same character from the story before. The world Krasikov displays is a world full of distrust, mistrust, misanthropy, and other flaws that you'd expect to get you down. Somehow, though, Krasikov buoys her stories and characters with just enough likability that you're willing to trust her to make it worthwhile, to make her gritty and painfully imperfect characters redeemable.

I can't say whether I'm disappointed that the stories all felt so similar. Each main character seemed to be a woman who has had a sense of independence thrust upon her and she struggles with whether to embrace it or not. Most of the men are unfaithful and married to women who aren't in the story. Plenty of characters seem to feel a sense of entitlement. And yet, each story is different--each is separated from the other by a change in setting, a slight alteration of voice.

All of it created a completely foreign world to me, a world I was vastly uncomfortable lingering in. And, again, I haven't sorted out whether I liked that or not, but I do agree with many other reviewers: Krasikov is very good at her craft.

Thanks to Spiegel & Grau for sending me an ARC!

Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer

SPOILER ALERT * SPOILER ALERT
(sorry, I can't help it this time)

How can you have the last book in a vampire series end without a fight? Especially when all previous books concluded with some kind of violent, external conflict? I tolerated the first, very predictable half of the book because I figured the end would at least be the wonderful fight with the Volturi the whole series has been building up to. But in the end, the promised battle dissipates because of a Dickensian moment of great timing/coincidence (there's even a nowyouseetimmy statement about bullies being cowards), making whole book an anti-climactic disaster. I know I'm not the only reader who felt cheated.

And though these are things teenagers aren't likely to notice when they're swept up in the plot, I found them disappointing:

• There's really no character development. They all stay pretty much the same from beginning of series to the end.
• Again, Meyer relies heavily on dialogue to carry the plot and reveal information.
• The whole series could have been cut in half with some revision and heavy editing--and probably would have packed more of a punch if it had been.

a question for you: do you Twitter?

I Twitter, but most of the people I know don't, and so I watch billba (of the comic strip Unshelved) and jessicahagy (who wrote Indexed and who keeps a blog of the same name and who gets her own Powell's Book Blog) leave their comments, and while I am entertained by them (especially by how often billba posts), I would like to see others'.

I'd like to invite you to Twitter with me and we can post random moments of our days. (About an hour ago, billba posted: There is now an air conditioner in my office, if by "air conditioner" you mean "big old fan." He cracks me up.)

The Last Queen by C.W. Gortner

I didn't know this: Spain had a queen, daughter of Isabel and Ferdinand, called Juana la Loca (sister of Catherine of Aragon, first wife of Henry VIII) who never officially took the throne--she fell victim to the power-hungry men around her and was eventually locked away while her father ruled in her stead.

In The Last Queen by C.W. Gortner, she is finally given a voice in the form of historical fiction. Following in the footsteps of writing narratives of other little-known people who played important roles on the royal scene (Philippa Gregory comes to mind), Gortner creates a convincing story for this mysterious Spanish princess Juana.

Like Philippa Gregory's works, The Last Queen transported me to the setting--16th century Spain & Austria. I dreamed as though I were one of Juana's ladies. I didn't wake up feeling I should be dressed in silks or brocades or whatever the ladies wore, but instead I felt the distress and uncertainty of serving this woman who was used as a pawn all her life, often treated as a prisoner, and refused the right to her own inheritance.

Was Juana really mad? (There are indications of psychological issues in her family.) Or was she locked away as a woman getting in the way of men? Either way, this story has sparked my interest--I'll be trying to locate a biography, maybe the 1939 book on Gortner's list of references. Recommended to people who like historical fiction and/or are fascinated by stories of royalty. (The princess locked in the tower isn't a fairy tale.)

Thank you to C.W. Gortner for arranging to have me sent a review copy.

Unshelved comic strip

Just a note: The comic strip Unshelved featured The Gargoyle in July 27's Book Club.

Tick tick tick--just a few more days till The Gargoyle is released!

Twenty West: the great road across America by Mac Nelson

I would really like to be able to recommend this book. But I can't.

I requested this book to review, and graciously, SUNY Press sent me a copy. I was excited to get it--after all, I grew up not far from US Route 20, traveled it often, and in my years of teaching, 20 was the road that took me home to the sanctuary of Mom and Dad's. Plus, in the last few years, I've taken a couple of cross-country trips and know some of the great places to be found on 20 and other highways.

From reading the teaser that encouraged me to request a review copy, and from the introduction, I expected a memoir of road trips, but instead found myself reading essays about things that have happened and the strange places that are near US Route 20 (and many of them happened prior to the road becoming US Route 20).

I wish I'd found something redemptive in these essays, but I find the writing style (incongruent) and much of the content uninteresting and disconnected. Everything was tied (sometimes very loosely) to the central idea of "The Great Road"--but even the bits of the book dealing with familiar territory in Ohio caused me to be dispassionate.

Also, the writing is filled with generalizations I would expect an educated, experienced writer to avoid--like the part in which Nelson discusses a Japanese internment camp from WWII located near Route 20. Nelson worked with a man who'd spent some of his childhood in that camp and relates that shortly after his family was released, the kid-now-man's mother killed herself. The next sentence states that the colleague attends reunions, and then there's a sentence about the human spirit being indomitable. I know that sentence refers to the colleague, or maybe it's about the fact that there are such reunions, but it's inappropriate to say the human spirit is indomitable just two sentences after mentioning a suicide that clearly indicates that opposite.

The book is full of such generalizations and other flaws and faults I don't expect to find in published work. I'm sorry to have to advise: skip this one. If you're really looking for a book to read about cross country America, my husband recommends Blue Highways by William Least Heat-Moon.

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

I think there was only one thing that bugged me in this book, and that's because I took four years of German in high school. (I wasn't particularly delighted with the integration of basic German into the characters' dialogue when the rest was in English.) I just thought I'd get that out of the way, because otherwise, I really liked this book.

Death, the narrator of The Book Thief, doesn't have much of a sense of humor. I'm not sure he saw much to be humorous about in the 1940's; as he keeps pointing out, he was pretty busy. But he loves colors and figurative language. And he loves Liesel, the book thief of Himmel Street. He doesn't seem great at suspense--he keeps telling readers what's coming five chapters ahead, but it never happens like you think it's going to happen. Well, almost never.

The book is set in Germany during World War II, but though there are Nazis, they're more on the fringe than part of the story. Death first sees Liesel as she's on her way to a foster home, but he encounters her several more times before the end of the war. (Of course people die--it's a war. And yes, if you're inclined to cry at sad movies or books, you will cry during this book.) I especially liked the formatting of the section pages:

Part 6

The Dream Catcher

featuring:
death's diary--the snowman--thirteen
presents--the next book--the nightmare of
a jewish corpse--a newspaper sky--a visitor--
a schmunzeler--and a final kiss on a poisoned cheek

I also appreciate the way that moments and thoughts were highlighted within the chapters, set aside in bold text and centered:

* * * HE SURVIVED LIKE THIS * * *

He didn't go into battle that day.

Sometimes they let readers know what was about to happen and sometimes it's just a reflection of something that had happened. Either way, it's very effective. I suppose those are Death's asides.

Like the cover--someone about to push over set up dominoes--the book is rushing toward disaster. I think Death at one point called it "beautiful destruction" (tongue-in-cheek). Despite the perpetual threat of annihilation, the beauty of the story is Death's being drawn to this good person in the middle of the war and making a point of telling her story, which he finds impossible to forget.

Ten Summer Anti-Fluff Reading Recommendations (something for pretty much every age)

I'm not a fan of bodice-rippers, thrillers, or a lot of chick lit; I suppose I'm too much of a snob. So though I know many people like their summer reading to be entertaining, I'm posting my recommended summer reading: a list of some of my favorite books.

Deerskin by Robin McKinley: McKinley proves her ability as a storyteller for adults in this retold fairytale about a princess whose life is nothing anyone would wish for. Strong fantastical elements, wonderfully flawed characters. When asked what my favorite book is, I answer Deerskin. (I try to reread it once a year.)






Freak the Mighty by Rodman Philbrick: a short book about two middle school misfits—one a hulk, one a kid the size of a four-year-old. Seriously, how can you resist a book that starts, “I never had a brain until Freak came along. And that’s the truth. The whole truth. The unvanquished truth is how Freak would say it, and for a long time it was him who did the talking…” It’s a great book for those who like the idea of rescuing damsels, slaying dragons, and walking high above the world.*

Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi: Subtitled A Memoir in Books. This is not light summer reading, but it is intensely intellectual and eye-opening. Not much emphasizes how wonderful reading is more than reading about a group of women who risked everything to meet in their professor's house to discuss forbidden books in a culture that didn’t allow women to be educated and forbade books that most of us know as classics (Lolita, The Great Gatsby, Pride & Prejudice, etc.).

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen: You can’t get more romantic or classic than Pride & Prejudice. The key to my enjoying Jane Austen’s work was realizing that they’re satirical. She made ridiculous characters in (sometimes) normal situations and used them to point out how foolish societal expectations were. I recommend the Broadview Literary Text because it includes a lot of footnotes (and appendices) to explain the satire that we, hundreds of years later, don’t realize or understand without explanation. Ignore that the picture on the cover is of a woman in the 19th century, not the 18th century and so really irrelevant to the story itself. (Silly people who picked that.)

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee: I know, you probably had to read this in high school. But it’s way better when you read it on your own than when it was assigned reading.








American Gods by Neil Gaiman: Okay, this is actually two recommendations in one. If you haven’t read Gaiman’s Neverwhere (not the graphic novel), read that first. You won’t like Neverwhere as much if you read American Gods first. Neverwhere is a really twisted Alice Through the Looking Glass/Wizard of Oz-style story. American Gods is a book based on this idea: the gods didn’t create life; life created the gods. I hope you’re quick to pick up on mythology, ‘cause the Norse gods are prominent characters. Truly a magnificent piece of imagination. (Decidedly adult reading. I wouldn’t like my middle schoolers reading this, though I would offer them Coraline by the same author.)

The Harry Potter series by JK Rowling: I met a high school student who loved fantasy but refused to read the Harry Potter books just because they were so popular. I convinced him to give them a shot (there’s a reason they’re so popular), and I like to think he’s happy he did because the last time I saw him, he was on HP #5 (Order of the Phoenix). If you haven’t given Harry Potter a try, you’re missing out. And if you’re not absolutely tickled with the first one, at least give the second one a shot. (The first one sets up a lot of important characters and information, so it’s not quite as wonderful as the rest of the series.) These are books for almost all ages—my whole family (Mom, Dad, my two little sisters who are both in their twenties) have read the whole series.

The Big, Orange Splot by Daniel Pinkwater: My favorite book Mom read to us when we were kids. One day a seagull flew over Mr. Plumbean’s house (just like every other house in the usual suburban neighborhood) carrying a can of orange paint (no one knows why) and drops it on Mr. Plumbean’s roof! (No one knows why.) I don’t know if it was my favorite book at the time, but this wonderful book about nonconformity sure stuck with me. It doesn’t associate conformity with anything negative, really, but it does make nonconformity feel preferable (and more fun).

Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson: An beautiful and uniquely well-written book from the point of view of Melinda, a girl starting high school after what happened at a summer party causes her to be shunned by all her former friends. Friendless and almost speechless to the rest of her world, she tells her story to us as it happens to her, eventually trusting us enough to tell us what happened the summer before. Melinda is at once heartbreaking, strong and funny. I can't recommend this book highly enough, especially to teachers, middle and high school students, and their mothers. I wore out my personal paperback copy of this book and the one that was part of my classroom library was always status: borrowed (but amazingly, never stolen).

Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes: Having seen the movie Under the Tuscan Sun is no excuse not to read the book; the movie and the book have almost nothing in common except a few character names and the setting, so you can love them independently of each other. Besides making you crave Italian food the whole time you're reading, Under the Tuscan Sun is a good book for getting motivated to do house renovations. There is one setback (if you’re restricted by budgets) to reading Mayes’s work: in the end, you’ll want to schedule a vacation Tuscany.

The Cure for Death by Lightning by Gail Anderson-Dargatz

I chose this book for its title. It probably says a lot for the book that I finished reading it and didn't even consider quitting, but this book will probably join the ranks of The Forgettable. Not much about it stood out for me.

I liked the presence of Coyote, the Native American/First Nations trickster, as one of the characters, though it wreaked havoc with the rest of the book's characters, who didn't seem to develop much--they just appeared and disappeared and reappeared, like Coyote--and for a while, it seemed like everyone wanted the narrator--however they had to get her. (That was blamed on Coyote, too.) At the end of one chapter, I wondered just how many times Beth would be assaulted, and how much that question was moving the plot forward.

The characters, for all their flatness, are still mostly interesting, each with their own quirk. Beth's father is a WWI survivor who goes "weird" one night when a bear attacks their sheep and then the family. Filthy Billy has obsessive ticks (scratching, swearing) that appear as something like Tourette syndrome. Beth's mother talks to her dead mother and gets answers. Coyote Jack appears in strange places but won't have anything to do with human contact, even from his father, called The Swede. Beth herself hears and sees things following her.

Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere by Mike Carey & Glenn Fabry

When I saw that Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere was being turned into a graphic novel, I had to see it for myself, so I hunted it down at Christmas (even though I've just read it cover to cover now, five months later).

It's been years since I've read the book Neverwhere, but I remember it was a very warped Alice Through the Looking Glass. So basically, I don't remember many particulars of the book--just the basic plot (and thinking that I wish I'd read Neverwhere before I read American Gods). But the graphic novel brought a lot of it back and I was very pleased with the results of Carey and Fabry. The story might be hard to follow for people who haven't read the book first; there are many characters to follow and the focus switches frequently.

Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer

While it took me only a day to read each of the first two books in this series, this third installment took me four. I have two reasons for this:

1) The superfluous dialogue was really driving me crazy and when I got tired all the "Can I ask you a question?" questions, less-than-witty adolescent banter, and unbelievably rapid mood swings, I just had to put the book down.

2) I realized before I started it that there is a fourth installment and I'm going to have to wait until this fall for the fourth. The end of the story is not at the end of this third book.

So there you go; those two very different reactions sum up very well how I feel about the book. I could go on about the characters, but they're not all that different from the first book. Suffice to say, I'll be at the bookstore to pick up the fourth book sometime the week it's released. For now, though, I think I've had my fill of teenage angst.

New Moon by Stephenie Meyer

I realize that I've been a little slow on the uptake--these books have been popular for quite some time. But I will never stop being amazed at how some books can just *htttttthhhhhhht* suck a reader in and not let go.

And like a good Part Two of a trilogy, this book keeps you involved and at the end, you know you have to read the last one. You just have to.

And, funny enough, I really don't want to comment on anything more about the books until I've finished reading the third. (Except to say that there are a few pages merely dedicated to the passing of time, and I really like the way that was done.)

Twilight by Stephenie Meyer

Reading this highly recommended book was like being taken back to everything I liked about being in my teens--namely, the books I was reading.

Meyer has written a book that is very hard to put down, even now that I'm a decade out of my teens. Main character Bella is a fun character to follow--and her klutziness is very important because it makes her less perfect, it helps the plot, and it makes for some funny moments in phys ed. And Edward, the wonderful, unrefusable vampire/love interest is reminiscent of the best parts of LJ Smith's vampire brothers in her trilogy (+1) The Vampire Diaries. In fact, I feel rather certain that Meyer must have been a Smith fan in her youth; they feel like very similar plots so far.

If one were looking for faults with this first book in Meyer's trilogy, one might decide that the plot is fluff or that the plot feels almost reliant on dialogue and unnecessary tags. But teens don't care about that (if I remember well, teens actually crave it like salt), and since they're the target readers...

Eager as I am to get to the next installment in the trilogy, though, I can't really complain, can I?
I'm going to go read some more.

The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson

I can't remember the last time I woke up and the first thing I wanted to reach for was my book, but after Marianne Engel showed up in the burn ward, I kept The Gargoyle on my bedside table until the day I finished it.

I was skeptical about whether I could actually like the unnamed (I can't find or remember any point at which his name is used) narrator who is burned in a car accident, the result of drug-induced hallucinations. He supplies his background in the beginning of the story, not quite suggesting that it's justification for how he chose to live his life, but clearly wanting readers to come to that conclusion. His character teeters on the edge of unbelievable.

In fact, the book was just about tossed on the "Nevermind" pile--until Marianne Engel showed up in the hospital burn ward. And though she is even more over-the-top than the narrator, the reader is drawn to her; she is the ballast in the story.

The narrator's voice has some very strange moments of instability--some lines just seem unbelievable, even from this nameless, oft poetic, burnt man. Most of the instability occurs before Marianne's character shows up, and then again in the end. At first I thought that maybe the the author was just in a hurry, that he got careless with the end of his story. But in retrospect, the destabilizing of his voice makes sense.

The tale he tells is a fantastic one--or, rather many. He tells us the tales that Marianne tells him, even as he tells us his (which has become their) story. Yes, it borders on metafiction; he even has moments when he addresses the reader directly and talks about telling his story, which I find most disconcerting, because those moments don't happen with any particular regularity. Overall, the weaving of the different stories is most satisfying; I wasn't ready for the stories to stop being told, a tribute to Marianne's storytelling skills, not unlike Sheharazad's, I imagine. The Gargoyle is a book of despair, love, hope, faith and redemption. It's a great romance without the bodice-ripping--which makes it the best kind.

Add this book to your wish list, top priority--it will be released on August 5.

(Thanks to Harper Collins for sending me an ARC to review.)

why I haven't posted a review for a while... (still)

Yes, we're still moving so my reading has been slowed to a crawl. It's really quite hard to concentrate when you're surrounded by boxes. I did, however, just receive an advanced reading copy of The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson to review, so I'm working on it (and so far, enjoying it).

Fire in the Blood by Irene Némirovsky

Fire in the Blood is a mostly enjoyable read, in part due to how quickly the short chapters move readers through the story. The plot is, for a long time, based on the infidelity of the young people in the book as observed by the old narrator and it's not till the end that you learn of his own youth, despite his frequent comments on the "fire" of the young. I can't say that I'm greatly impressed by the book, especially considering the positive reviews I read, and based on this work, I don't care whether I read any more of her work, but Fire in the Blood isn't a drag to read, either. (Otherwise, you know I wouldn't have bothered finishing it.)

Almost more interesting than the book itself, though, is the "Note on the Text" that prefaces the story; Irene Némirovsky died in 1942 in Auschwitz, and for a long time, all that existed of this book was the couple of pages; biographers later discovered the rest of the book entrusted to a family friend and editor in 1942.

just a note to readers

Hi, everyone. I feel remiss because I haven't been posting as often as you expect me to, so I want to offer an explanation: I got married in December (see my other blog http://muse2323.blogspot.com/ for details about that ordeal) and finally made it back to British Columbia at the end of January. I promptly tried to unpack, but the cottage is just too small to have places to put everything, so we've found a new place to move to and we're
trying to pack up everything I just unpacked plus the stuff from Roger's year of bachelor pad living and everything from us moving in before that. It's crazy what this place looks like. Maybe I'll post a video to my other blog so you can see how much it's not a reading-friendly environment. I can't sit down for more than 20 minutes with a book, and it has to be a damn good book to hold my attention that long.

But with the new place we're getting more space and I expect a much better attention span. I'm almost finished with Fire in the Blood by Irene Némirovsky, a book that's gotten a lot of press lately. Look for that posting as early as later today!

Feeling Sorry for Celia by Jaclyn Moriarty

Feeling Sorry for Celia is a very funny teen chick lit book. I think I enjoyed it far more than Louise Rennison's Confessions of Georgia Nicholson books (Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging; On the Bright Side, I'm Now the Girlfriend of a Sex God; etc). Elizabeth Clarry makes for a fairly down-to-earth teenager in spite of all the kooky people around her. Her best friend Celia has, in the beginning of the book, run away to join the circus. No one seems particularly concerned, especially after they receive news that she actually is joining a circus. Elizabeth's newest friend is a pen pal from another school whose name she received as an assignment from her English teacher. Elizabeth's father has moved back to Australia (where Elizabeth lives) and is trying to spend time with her, and Elizabeth's mother can't quite figure out what to do about it.

What I like best about this books is how Moriarty's characters are so well developed by the notes and letters they write. You just know Elizabeth's mother is kooky (but not as kooky as Celia's) from her first note which is all punctuated with exclamation marks in the first half--the equivalent of standing in front of the fridge and waving her arms frantically to get her daughter's attention--and is followed by a few directions and a warning that if she sunburns her face "like that again," nothing will be left "but bones and brains and eyeballs."

Also included in the characters' correspondence is unsolicited advice from groups in Elizabeth's (slightly paranoid) head from organizations like, "The Society of People Who Are Definitely Going to Fail High School (and Most Probably Life as Well)," "Best Friends Club," and "The Society of High School Runners Who Aren't Very Good at Long-Distance Running but Would Be if They Just Trained." Sometimes these seemed a bit over the top--but who doesn't have all these seemingly outside opinions filtering through their head from some mysterious somewhere?

Recommended readers: fans of the Georgia Nicholson series, teenage fans of Bridget Jones (I liked this book better than any of the aforementioned), teenage girls who are required to read a book for some period of time during the school day but who don't care to read perceived-to-be -generally-boring long-chapters books, and just about any teenage girl who does like to read. Very few teen girls won't find themselves in some facet of this book.

The Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

I bought this book several years ago on the recommendation of another teacher. She said she liked it better than Number the Stars by Lois Lowry. I have very fond memories of Number the Stars, having read it several times in my own junior high years; I really can't compare the two, having read The Devil's Arithmetic so much later and knowing so much more about the Holocaust now than I did.

Yolen's story is similar to other YA books I've liked--a frame story in which the protagonist goes back in time (somehow) to experience for themselves the horror of what "it" was like. For as complicated as the Holocaust was, Yolen manages to compress a considerable amount of the horror into these pages meant for readers of 10-12 years of age. I found the experience of the boxcar horrible enough, and it was just a few pages representing four days.

While adult readers may find themselves questioning the timelines and factuality of the events in the story (some parts seemed too sudden) and finding it lacking in the punch of everything that happened in the Holocaust, I think younger readers will be engrossed by the terrible things humans have done to each other--especially if they realize that similar atrocities are still being committed elsewhere in the world. An excellent book to use for teachers of Holocaust history, especially at the 4th, 5th or 6th grade level as an introduction to this particular part of the past.

Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette WInterson

Lighthousekeeping is very fast reading with likable characters and wonderful imagery. Silver is a character whose purpose in life seems to be to tell stories. Her story is interwoven with a couple of different stories she hears and tells, most of them dealing with a character named Babel Dark whose own story has been told since the invention of story-telling, I think.

I suspect Winterson is an "everyone" postmodern writer (she's very popular), whether you like postmodern books or not, and I will be reading more of her work.

Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl

Perhaps this shows me to be the geek I am: what first tickled me about Special Topics in Calamity Physics (besides the title) is the way Blue made all sorts of parenthetical references to literature, academic monographs, periodical articles and art. This actually is one of her most definitive actions as the narrator and main character--she constantly makes connections between events in her life (however small) to what she's read, most of which has been pushed on her by her father, ever the professor, since childhood.

Speical Topics in Calamity Physics is mostly mystery, but a couple chapters in, you'll forget that. Blue begins by telling us that she thought she had gotten beyond the nightmares of finding Hannah's body hanging, but clearly she hasn't, and so she's decided to write this book. This is not a type of beginning I usually continue reading, but Blue is such a wonderful character from page 1 that I almost didn't care. Blue isn't the only wonderful character, either--I got so lost in the rest of the characters that I completely forgot by page 100 how it was going to end. (The end in the beginning is, of course, not the end of the ending of the book.)

I also found it remarkable how disinclined I was to skip any part, even solely descriptive paragraphs, which is a testament to Pessl's writing. Every description was part of Blue's character development, and Blue is a narrator I couldn't get enough of.

About the mystery: readers are only reminded about two-thirds of the way through what the mystery actually is--not just who Hannah is, but why and how she died--and I didn't have any of it figured out till about 50 pages from the end, and then I was almost in a state of disbelief.

I'm still not entirely sure what I think about the ending--it's a little out there, it's brilliant, she's making it seem way easier than it should be--but the journey makes it well worth your while, whether you like the ending or not.

Such a Pretty Girl by Laura Wiess

This book, in many ways, reminded me of Cut by Patricia McCormick. The styles seem to be very similar--easy/fast to read but the content is unsettling, to say the least. Self mutilation (Cut) and sexual abuse (Such a Pretty Girl) are difficult topics to cover well. It's easy to trot out the stereotypes and statistics and try to make characters out of them. Cut was loved by my eighth grade classes, but adults felt the book was, in the end, too easy, too uncomplicated for such an intense topic.

Such a Pretty Girl does a better job of capturing the turmoil of sexual abuse than Cut did of self-mutilation, but even with the intense flashbacks (of both good times and bad with her father), it is still too uncomplicated. The whole story takes place over the course of just a week or so, from the time Meredith's father is released from prison to the time he is sent back. Conveniently, a cop living in the complex, as well as her best friend/boyfriend (who as a boy was also molested by her father) and her grandmother who lives across town, offer Meredith sorts of sanctuary since her mother is unwilling to do so.

Also, it is my understanding that men who are interested in molesting children are seldom interested after they've reached puberty, which is not the case here. Meredith's father seems determined, in a very Humbert Humbert way, to want to continue to want his daughter, no matter how old she gets. (Humbert Humbert wanted to continue to want Lolita, though he did eventually lose interest as she became a woman instead of remaining a "nymphet.")

In the end everything is just a little too neat--her kind of story (unfortunately) really wouldn't get such a bright red bow.

Twisted by Laurie Halse Anderson

A student recommended this to me. I haven't read much of Anderson's work since she published Speak (one of my all-time favorites), but the student recommendation (while I was subbing--heaven of all heavens--in the high school library) pushed me to go to the public library for this book. I marvel at Anderson's ability to create such different characters from book to book (despite some very telling stylistic tendencies). In Twisted, she tells the story of a smart kid who did something stupid (but not particularly harmful) in order to get some attention, and who is now paying ten-fold for his prank when some nasty things happen to a girl in his school. His father, a workaholic who works for the girl's father, blames his family for making his life difficult, doesn't necessarily believe his son is innocent of what he's been accused of doing.

I think the only real faults I found in the book are at the end. The suicide contemplation seems less involved than I imagine such contemplation would be and the father very promptly (and conveniently) in the end apologizes for being an emotionally abusive father and husband and promises to do better. It's not that I believe people can't change--I just don't know that the guy's going to change without some serious therapy, which was never mentioned.

More readable than Catalyst (which took a little bit of patience) but not as good as Speak, I would still recommend Twisted to any teen looking for an intense and involved reading experience. Books that are (kind of) in the same vein? Sharon Draper's Tears of a Tiger and Paul Fleischman's Whirligig.

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

This book has won Sherman Alexie the National Book Award for Young People's Literature. I haven't read any of the other books that were nominated, but I am glad that this book has gotten so much attention. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is about a kid who grows up on the rez, the kid nearly everyone picks on because of some physical problems he has (stuttering, lisping, and having a big head). But when Junior's teacher makes him consider options he didn't realize he had, Junior decides to take on a different future--he decides to attend school off the reservation, and though he was never a favorite child of the reservation's people, he pretty much becomes public enemy number one (traitor) for daring to have dreams and to go after them.

Though there were some things in the book I was skeptical of (the extent of his post-birth brain injury, for example), the truth is in the characters--the way his best friend reacts to his enrolling in a school off the rez, the way Junior finally sees the rez from a bigger perspective than as an inhabitant of it, when he realizes just how screwed up his life could be and the things he can do to keep from falling into the trap that was long ago set, and how people not on the rez have their share of problems, too.

Perhaps the best surprise of the book are the illustrations. Junior is a cartoonist, and he shares his doodlings, which are "taped" to the pages of his story. (The cartoons also make this book a fast read. I read it over the course of a day of substitute teaching while students were working on review sheets and watching a video.)

Fans of both Sherman Alexie and Chris Crutcher should definitely read this book. (Yes, I got a very Chris Crutcher feel from this book; maybe because of the significance of the basketball team to Junior's life.)



**Though the cover says that this is Sherman Alexie's first young adult book, his book Flight was published last spring. Does that mean that this book initially had an earlier publication date intended? I don't know, but for some reason, it bothers me.

Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen

This book is a fun, fluffy read. If you approach the book with a lighthearted, playful spirit and expect a typical happily-ever-after sort of story, you will enjoy it. Well, most of it, anyway. The magic is fun; a little heavy on laying out the purposes of plants (I didn't really need or want to know and it felt a little Ophelia-like in one part), but I loved how each Waverly had her own niche. Evanelle and the apple tree (yes, the tree qualifies as a character--it had far more personality than several of the humans) were more fun than the two Waverly sisters around whom the book centers. I would even go so far as to say that they made the whole book worthwhile. Without them, this review would be very, very different.

I'd give it four (out of five) stars if it had a more satisfying ending and slightly stronger main characters, but as it is what it is, I give it three.

The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

Mostly mystery, but also part love story, book lovers everywhere should read The Shadow of the Wind. Our hero is a young man named Daniel who grows up working in his father's bookstore and who finds himself driven to discover all that he can about an enigmatic author whose book he adopts from the Cemetery of Forgotten Books. Along the way he encounters people almost as strange and mysterious as the author whose story he's trying to track down--he makes decisions which have strange outcomes and accidentally falls in love on the journey.

Though die-hard mystery fans might find this plot too predictable, the rest of us should enjoy the bookish premise, the setting and characters, and take on the adventure without really trying to guess the end.

The Nature of Monsters by Clare Clark

Though the characters tend to be inconsistent, especially at the end, and not particularly likable, the plot is interesting because it's clearly so well researched. Men (one in particular) interested in medicine and general scholarly endeavors, heedless of the grief and havoc their actions bring about, use household maids to experiment with what causes birth defects in children. Mr. Black, the apothecary, is determined (through his opiated haze) to prove that the highly sensitive nature of women can cause their fears to imprint on the form of their unborn by experimenting on his maids Mary and Eliza, the narrator.

Long story short: This is a book for people who love the history behind historical novels.

The Perfect Man by Naeem Murr

The Perfect Man is a novel of character complexity; were the characters not so well done, it wouldn’t have been worth reading. Strong Annie, disturbed Lew, puerile Alvin, sophisticated Nora. And then there is our main character Raj, the Indian-English boy who is foisted upon his uncles by his father and then a woman who has no blood relation to him and no reason to allow him to stay except compassion (though she says she said yes just to take away any reason for his uncle to stay).

Raj is interesting because though the book’s stories twist around his life, he isn’t really much of a character throughout. He’s more of a catalyst for other characters, despite many events in the story taking place before Raj ever appeared on the scene (1950s’ small town, Missouri). Raj never completely develops as his own character, despite efforts to clean up in the end. In fact, the end felt a little rushed, a little last minute, a little too much like an expected but untidy red bow. Still, I liked Raj, ever a joker, usually unpredictable.

But I was amazed at how many of the characters I didn’t like. This town was full of humanity at its worst—or at least, the worst was highlighted. The plot itself is fairly simple (a boy without identity trying to find it among strangers), told staggeringly, jumping years ahead and then back. Subplots involve cruelty, alcoholism, murder, adultery, love, and the opposite of love. It’s not a particularly uplifting book. Many times, it’s absolutely disgusting. Alvin is inclined to find dead or almost-dead things and show his friends, and the group of middle-aged men in the book are manipulative and vicious and you wonder how they get away with it. And the women are sad, trapped, wanting what they can’t have and don’t know that they ever had, even for a minute. Ruth, the woman who takes in Raj, is the only independent woman in the book—she resists needing anyone or anything. Annie, Raj’s first friend in his new town, aspires to be like Ruth but it’s not in her nature to be free of needing to be loved.

I recommend this book to people who enjoy getting lost in characters more than plot, to people who have ever felt scornful of the place where they live and the people who live around them, and to people who enjoy writers who play with language—whether they play successfully or not.

If You Want to Write by Brenda Ueland

I've read quite a few books about writing, and I can't say that I like this particular book. However, I can't say that I don't recommend it; it had its moments of brilliance (usually involving quoting someone else), and some of what I didn't like about it probably needs to be attributed to the writing styles of the era (first published in 1938).

Just to get it over with, what I didn't like was how the book felt condescending, mostly based on the number of I-want-to-tell-you's and the I-am-trying-to-get-you-to's. In one chapter, she uses another writer's article and parenthetically inserts her comments; I would have preferred to make my own opinions before reading hers. And she refers to what she calls "Truthfulness"--Truth with a capital T scares me because it implies a singular truth, which is not something that we humans are privy to (much as some of us would like tho think otherwise). Attributing this capitalization feature to the era of the writing though, she could have had a very interesting conversation with Tim O'Brien about capturing truth through writing.

Also, Ueland seems to subscribe to the belief that anyone can be a writer--she would have made a fantastic middle school English teacher, I imagine--and though I don't agree (there are plenty of books published that should have ended up in the editors' pitch piles), I think it is important to encourage students who might otherwise never even try (really try) to write a good story and so I would recommend this book to any keepers of libraries and middle/high school English teachers.

All in all, I don't think that there's much she advises that books about writing haven't been advising ever since. Keep it simple, don't try to force your voice, etc. Ueland's gems, I think, lie in quoting Van Gogh (on page 20) regarding the capturing of moments and Chekhov (on page 126) regarding characterization through dialogue and the personality and voice of the writer. Also, there is a paragraph (on page 86) in which she describes beautiful writing: "It is impossible to cut it. I try to take out a sentence here or there, but cannot bring myself to do it. They are all too good and necessary and contribute too much."

Looking for Alaska by John Green

You know, I was hopeful that Looking For Alaska would be an enjoyable read--I liked the cover and the ambiguous jacket blurb. And it was very much what I had hoped. I'm not so sure that I would have enjoyed it as a high school underclassman, but as an upperclassman I think I would have found it very educational.

I very much enjoyed the main character Miles/Pudge, a young man who at the beginning of the book is just starting his first year at boarding school. The nickname is ironic, assigned to him by his new roommate Chip/The Colonel. The Corporal is who introduces Pudge to Alaska, who he immediately becomes infatuated with.

I found Pudge's voice to make for some intense reading. His "thing" is to learn people's last words, so throughout the book, you learn what a number of famous people's last words supposedly were (there are some comments from the author after the books is over regarding the accuracy of these last words). And he and his new set of friends are far less shy about talking about anything than I was at 16.

And the chapters are a countdown (158 days before, forty-eight days before, three days after). I don't know how long it took me to notice that--I was a few chapters in--and then you start to wonder what the countdown is leading you to. (I'm not telling you what--read it yourself.) The only major flaw I found with the book is that there seemed to be a major overlap of time just before the "before" countdown ended; I just couldn't get the timeline to match up with how events "after" were described. It's entirely possible that I missed a key sentence that would eliminate this confusion, but I reread the parts in question several times and can't reconcile them. But even with that said, the timeline is less important than the events of the story, however they happened.

Since this is the end of Banned Books Week, I think it should be noted that this book has been challenged, and not surprisingly so. There are frank sexual situations, drinking, smoking, tons of swearing, flagrant disregard for authority--all the usual stuff that causes parents to get their feathers ruffled.

The Likes of Me by Randall Platt

I chose to read this book because I really liked the cover. I thought the book sounded interesting enough to give it a try, and if that doesn't sound like I was eager to read it, well... No, I just really liked the cover.

The story is told by a 14-year-old albino girl named Cordelia who runs away from her Northwest logging mill settlement home in the early 20th century, following (what else?) a young man who's paid her some attention (which she didn't get a lot of). This is the kind of book that doesn't ever feel real because the characters and events are so fantastic--she stays (as a guest) at a place of ill repute and becomes part of a freak show where she makes quite a bit of money from people who think she'll bring them luck. Squirl, the boy she followed, is a charming, cunning creature; Babe, her stepmother, is a superhumanly strong giantess of a freak herself; Sally, Squirl's sister, owns the lavish establishment where Cordelia takes up residence.

This is definitely an enjoyable read, though overall I think I'd only rate it as slightly above average. (B)

Thank You for Not Reading by Dubravka Ugresic

In Thank You for Not Reading Dubravka Ugresic presents a collection of insightful, cutting essays about writers, readers, exile, form, and the state of the publishing world. She discusses agents and the role of the book proposal, foreign writers (she's Croatian), good writing, bad writing, and the concept of literature (just to name a few).

I found myself laughing out loud (often in inappropriate settings) at her observations about characters and writers, gender and location, successful novels as gossip. The copy I read (from the library--but I may have to buy my own) is tabbed as though I could do something with her ideas, as though she could support a paper I have yet to write. (I do wish I had read this book before/during grad school.) Mostly it's memorable language or analogies I've marked, but there are too many--I'll never write them all down, and so all my tabbing has been for naught. The book's already overdue.

I recommend that you don't sit down to read this cover to cover. Read a few essays and let them settle before going on to the next few. Maybe read a novel as you're making your way through Thank You for Not Reading. I started losing focus with the last essays, probably the result of having read nothing else for weeks and the more academic style (and length), but I do highly recommend this book to anyone who loves reading and/or is especially interested in the publishing field. I'll be buying my own copy, and I'll return this one to the library now.

The Last Summer (of You & Me) by Ann Brashares

I was tickled when I saw that Ann Brashares had a new book coming out, and it was of special interest as her first adult novel. I love her Sisterhood series for teens. (The first book of which was given to me by our school librarian as a summer reading "assignment," and I was to come back and report to her at the end of the summer before the students came back.) But I was concerned that what I loved about her writing would disappear in an attempt to write for a grown-up audience.

I am delighted to say, therefore, that in The Last Summer (of You & Me), Brashares has not changed her style. It seems a tip of the hat to the sophistication of her teen readers with the Sisterhood books and an acknowledgment for this audience that even when we are grown up, we still have a lot in common with our seventeen-year-old selves. She holds onto her omniscient writing style and wields it well through the lives of childhood trio Alice, Riley and Paul. The story is surprisingly simple on the surface, and only when you've finished it (or are close to finishing it) will you notice just how complex it really is. And I find this book to be as highly-quotable as her other books, which I read with Post-It tabs to mark favorite sentences or paragraphs.

For all my excitement about this book release, though, I waited till it had been on the shelves for a few weeks to buy it, and then I waited another month and a half to read it. The first couple of chapters feel strange because the insightful, observant protagonist Alice seems so much older than the 22-year-old she is. And I wasn't in a place to feel sad. You know from the title that this book cannot end with a typical happy ending for all characters involved, and you'll know from the first few chapters where the sadness will come, if not how.

So I allowed myself two weeks to get through the first few chapters. Then last night and this afternoon, I read the last half of the book. I knew from previous experience that Brashares writes grief well, and you have to trust her to get through this book. She does not make readers cry just because she can (something that really can't be said for a lot of writers).

And I love this book. I am putting it in my mom's stack to TBR books, but I will want it back soon (within the year).

If you--and/or your daughter(s)--love Brashares's Sisterhood books, you have to read this one.

The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

I read this book in spite of my instinct to ignore all of the hullabaloo that followed its release, but a few too many people whose opinions I generally trust told me I should read it, so I picked it up at a garage sale. I may not be listening to the next recommendations of those people who told me to read this.

I can't say that I don't understand why so many people were fascinated by this book; its presentation of facts (false facts or true facts, I'm not differentiating) was captivating. I would have loved to have fallen into this book as completely as everyone else seemed to. I'm not sure whether I found doing so difficult because it's now more than three years since its publication and because I've seen too many news blurbs about people (especially tourists) who take everything in the book literally, or whether it was mainly the style of the writing.

I'm leaning towards: style. I was so fed up with the choppy chapters, the constant shifts in point of view, the refusal to let narrative flow naturally, and the unevenness of the characterization that I almost put the book down about halfway through. Brown uses chapters to indicate a point of view switch--but not consistently. Within chapters a few times, he also switches POV's on readers (which isn't difficult to follow because there's a section break). I found the shorter chapters made it harder to keep track of all the characters, and I certainly didn't feel that I needed to be shown the story from every character's point of view.

Brown, besides being heavy on his adverbs, couldn't let a story unfold without a few false starts. He'd hint that there was something coming, a story to be told, but then he'd refuse to tell it. It felt like a cheap suspense-building tactic, and I thought it could have been better.

Also, the characters are supposed to be smart, but it didn't feel like that thoughout the whole book. They'd have consistent memorization-smart and mini strokes of brilliance (because the plot couldn't continue if they didn't) and then they'd go and do something incredibly stupid like stealing an armored truck from a bank when they know the cops are after them--and really, really close--and not even consider that the truck (of course) is trackable. And even though Brown tries to explain away sudden shifts in behavior through plot after the fact, it doesn't really work. Sometimes, too, the characters' reactions to overly narrated dialogue seemed weird. (Sophie gives Langdon "surprised looks" at the stuff that comes out of his mouth, even when it's nothing extraordinary.)

Overall, I'd have to say that despite the fun Indiana Jones-iness of the whole thing, you can do better. I don't know what to recommend instead, but you can do better. If you have to know what happens at the end of this story, go rent the movie. (I say that without having seen the movie, but being of the opinion that in this case, the movie is probably better than the book.)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by JK Rowling

I approached this book with trepidation and every intention of reading as slowly as I could. I had to put the book down every third chapter or so to make sure I had processed all the information. A couple of times, I went back and looked up stuff in previous chapters.

And since many of the people I know haven't finished this book yet, I'm not really giving anything like my normal review. I will say that I loved this book every bit as much as I loved the previous six.

Also, I want to say that I took a quiz on The Leaky Cauldron to predict what would happen in book 7--and I was oh-so-very wrong with most of my answers. It's probably a good thing that I never took the others. (I think there were two more.) Really, that just made the reading all the more fun--I like being surprised.

And I'd be more than happy to discuss this book with any other HP fans out there--I just don't want to post spoilers.

In an Instant by Lee and Bob Woodruff

In this well-rounded memoir, Lee and Bob Woodruff write a joint accounting of their experiences of Bob's head injury in Iraq. They describe their history as a couple, and the friendships and previous experiences which helped them to deal with this life-altering event.

Though Lee's accounts aren't as polished as Bob's, the book is still a fascinating read. (I wasn't prepared for that--I expected to feel luke-warm toward this book at best.) The Woodruffs' life together has been topsy-turvy since its beginning, so the only point in the book that I found myself impatient with was the beginning, and that was undoubtedly due to my own expectations of the book.

If I would have changed anything, I would have included more details about brain injury treatment and therapy. At one point, Lee mentions that the collaboration of the military and private sector doctors treating Bob "would ultimately have positive implications for all soldiers with traumatic brain injuries." But that's all that is ever said about it, and I would really, really like to know. (And more importantly, will that ever change how civilian head injuries are addressed/treated?)

And of course, there was a little thrill when I saw my own last name in the book. (It turns out that a relative of mine was Bob's doctor on the plane to the US.)

The book is more focused on pre-accident events than Bob's journey to recovery, which makes it seem like lighter fare than the other TBI memoirs I've read, but since the details are important and interesting, I can say that I would easily recommend this book.

B+

Summit Avenue by Mary Sharratt

How can you not want to read a book that begins, "How can you weave a life from fairy tales?" I encountered this book while looking at small press websites. I don't even think I read the rest of the summary blurb until I was actually a few chapters into it.

The protagonist is Kathrin Albrecht, a young woman who emigrates from pre-World War I Germany to find a better life in America. She begins her life there as a flour mill worker, learns English, and then finds herself in the good graces of Violet Waverly, a widow who is working on a project and needs a German translator.

I enjoyed the way the fairy tales are woven within Kathrin's story and that the similarities she sees aren't necessarily the parallels the reader sees. I also enjoyed the framing of the story, so that you have a sense of where the story will end--or where you think it will end.

The only slides in my enjoyment of this book were in little moments that I didn't find to be consistent with Kathrin's voice or traditions of the period. There were just a couple paragraphs--one about pre-legal abortion methods that really felt like a rushed mini history lesson (or like it was an interesting bit of information that Sharratt intensely felt needed to be integrated somehow) and the other was regarding wedding rings. (Double ring ceremonies were not common until World War II and as they were both children of European parents, I am doubtful that either of their fathers would have worn wedding bands.)

But those were just a few paragraphs, and the rest of the book was easy to fall into. People will call this book unconventional, but only because the relationship between Kathrin and Violet becomes Sapphic. Like all fairy tales, this is a story of maturation, fear, and love--and it's well worth your attention.