The Giver by Lois Lowry

Every once in a while, I like to go back and read a Newbery or a Caldicott winner, and other times I like to read a book that has been banned. We keep a running list of prize winners and banned books, and we clip newspaper articles about the latest pieces of literature (children’s and adult) that threaten the fabric of civilization. We always buy a copy of these fountains of degradation and immorality to support the authors under scrutiny.
This time I got a “twofer.” Lowry’s book won a Newbery and was banned for social reasons.
The story is intriguing, and I enjoyed the first two-thirds, but it began slipping into a rather preachy mode that I found quite annoying. The story is simple: society has devolved into something the Giver refers to as “the sameness.” No weather, no problems, no excitement. Everyone is a perfectly behaved little cog in the machine that passes for society. Young Jonas is selected as the next “Receiver” of the collective memories of humanity (such as it is), who will then examine memories to advise the council of elders which runs this hell-hole. Babies are routinely euthanized because they are the wrong weight, or they cry too much, or because the mother has had the temerity to have twins. Likewise the elderly, the infirm, and the useless.
The Giver is an intriguing story, but it does tend to the incredulous, since no explanation is ever given for the passivity and submission of the inhabitants of the “community.” If I wanted to read an attempt at a utopia of conformity, Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale is light years better. Considering the desires of the lunatic fringe on the religious right, Atwood’s story is frightening enough, and, if those fundies had their way, much more likely to happen. Three stars.
--Chiron, 10/28/2007

Our Kind by Kate Walbert

How on earth this book made it as a finalist of the National Book Awards is a mystery to me. I found it on my “Book Lovers Page-a-Day Calendar.” Usually these books that sound interesting, are, but this was a dud.
The calendar told me these stories can be read along side Updike and Cheever. Bull shit! Her sentences are tortured, with many, many sentence fragments from a third-person narrator, who seems somewhat as bored as I was reading it. Walbert places way too much emphasis on clothes, and way too many fashion terms for my taste. I simply did not care about these 50-something women who all lost their husbands, children, pets, and intolerance for alcohol. Two stars.-
-Chiron, 10/28/07

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Pride and Prejudice is one of my top five all-time novels. Elizabeth Bennett is in my top three favorite women characters in all of literature. She is also in my top five favorite characters…period!
I can not count the number of times I have read P&P, nor can I count the books and articles I have read about Jane Austen and her work.
Despite the distance, this story is still absorbing, the characters engaging, the dialogue sparkles, and the settings and sounds transport the reader directly to Regency England. My only regret is that it has been a few years since I last read it, and I must keep it “closer to hand,” as Mr. Bennett might say.
The version I read this time is a new one for me. Anchor Books has published an annotated edition this year, and it even feels good to the touch. The text is on the left, and extensive, detailed annotations on the right. Even though I knew what most of the notes were going to say, I could not help myself from reading those as well. This relatively short novel has ballooned to well over 600 pages with a great introduction, maps, chronology, and an excellent bibliography. This particular version is a must for any Austen lover.
--Chiron, 10/25/2007

Peter Rabbit’s Giant Storybook by Beatrix Potter

One of the essays in Clive James’ Cultural Amnesty focused on Beatrix Potter and her wonderful tales. It had been decades since I read any of them, so, off to Books-a-Million to buy a collection. They had many to choose from, but this one with fourteen tales, and all the original illustrations, was perfect. I remembered most of them, but a couple were completely new. The stories are as wonderful now as ever. Each a perfect little gem with subtle lessons on behavior and manners.
I collect books I recall reading as a child, and I can not remember the exact edition of the tales I read then. This collection is a more than adequate substitution. I enjoy going back to those days and re-reading stories and poems that made me the reader I am today. James was right – five stars!
--Chiron, 10 26/07

Poetry 180: A Turning Back to Poetry selected and with an introduction by Billy Collins

Normally, I read the first volume in a set, then go onto the second. Many times, the second is a disappointment after the first. However, this collection of poems (the first of two), is not as good as the second -- by that I mean not as many poems made me smile as the second volume (180 More) did. Collins did open the collection with one of my favorite of his poems: "An Introduction to Poetry," and another, "Did I Miss Anything?" by Tom Wayman, has been on my office door for a couple of years. After that it was pretty thin sailing. Collins also wrote the introduction to this one, and he has a little more of a stern tone to it than the gentle prodding to "give poetry another chance" of the second introduction. I shared the second intro with my creative writing class, I doubt I will do the same with this one.
--Chiron, 10/16/2007

Heart Songs and Other Stories by Annie Proulx

Heart Songs is Ms Proulx's first collection of stories, and it is a lot different from her later two, Wyoming Stories and Bad Dirt. She has set these stories in Vermont, rather than the western ranches and plains of the later collections. In a brief documentary on Ovation, she recounted the travels and research she undertook to write her most recent novel, That Old Ace in the Hole. At the end, she said she would not write another novel, because she much preferred writing short stories. I love her novels (Ace, The Shipping News, Accordion Crimes and Postcards), but her stories are wonderful, solid nuggets of artistic prose with the most careful attention to even the smallest details.
Like the stories set in Wyoming, these stories are concerned with nature and how people grow up, in, around, and with the rural settings she skillfully describes. Her prose is lyrical, poetic, and brimming with wonderful images. These stories differ from the Wyoming ones, because she does not strain to catch the slightest nuances of speech she captures in Wyoming. These New Englanders could be in any rural area of the US.
I could only hope to be a paltry imitator of her. If you have not read Annie Proulx, run out and get something of hers today. Five stars.
--Chiron, 10/21/2007

Snow by Orhan Pamuk

This is one complex novel – but don’t let that stop you! Pamuk has told an intricate tale with lots of interesting characters. The mystery narrator of the novel, reveals himself at the end, and that is a surprise. The story is absorbing, and while the history, politics, and names of Turkey are a little confusing, enough background is provided for the reader to follow nearly all the twists and turns.
I can understand why Pamuk was awarded the Nobel Prize in 2006. I always try and read the latest winner. I have discovered many great writers this way—Saramago, Kurtesz, Achebe, and a few others. Coincidentally, the 2007 winner, Doris Lessing, was announced last week. I have read quite a few of her books, but some important ones are on my TBR shelf.
At first, I thought I might not get through Snow, but something kept pulling me along. I began to build up speed, and, about a third of the way through, I was captivated. I could barely put it down over the last 150 pages. I also thought, early on, that this would be my only foray into Pamuk, but one of the descriptions of another of his novels intrigued me enough to order a copy. I probably won’t read it soon, but I will get to it.
I did notice a couple of minor problems that may be entirely in my head. I felt left out of some of the conversations, because I did not understand comments some of the characters made as well as some of the reactions of those characters. Perhaps there is a piece of the cultural puzzle missing that would help me better appreciate what was going on. Are Turkish men REALLY that chauvinistic? Neither was I clear that the issue of the head scarves for women was ironic or a serious issue. I also could not tell whether the main character, (Ka, an exiled poet who has returned to his home village with three pretexts), was serious or manipulative when talking to students, the police, his friends, or the newspaper editor. Four and ½ stars out of five.
--Chiron, 10/14/07

Congratulations!

The winner of the Noble Prize for Literature in 2007 is Doris Lessing.

Finally! Someone I have heard of and read extensively.

I never cared much for her science fiction, but her "Children of Violence" series, beginning with Martha Quest, is outstanding. In the archives for February 2007, you will find my review of her most recent book, The Grandmothers: Four Short Novels, which is also more than worth a read.

Now, I want to see John Updike win in 2008!
--Chiron, 10/11/07

Remedios Varo: Unexpected Journeys by Janet Kaplan

About 12 years ago, a fellow grad student found an art book at a used book sale. The artist was Remedios Varo, and the paintings were enchanting: wispy figures whose mustaches grew into handle bars, and whose beards wound down to their feet and became wheels ; willowy women who floated through magical landscapes with threads connecting them to wings and wheels. I especially liked ten or so of the paintings. Immediately, I began a search for a copy of the book. This was, of course, the days before Amazon and Google, so I had no luck. I kept at it, and about three weeks ago, I found a copy of this book. It came from England via ABEbooks (another favorite website for hard to find volumes). I was surprised I had not come across this before, but here it is. I guess my search had some holes in it!
Kaplan is a Professor of Art History at Moore College of Art in Philadelphia, and on the graduate faculty of The University of Vermont. This volume grew out of her dissertation.
Of the ten paintings I admired from the original collection, numbers 8 and 10 are here, but not the rest – so the search continues.
Despite this disappointment, Kaplan has written an excellent biography and survey of surrealism. I was surprised to learn Varo was born in Spain, spent time in Paris, and only later immigrated to Mexico. For some reason. I always thought she was Mexican.
If you like surrealism, Varo is a little known artist, but in her paintings, “The familiar becomes extraordinary,” as Kaplan writes. 4-1/2 stars – only for lack of more of my favorites.
--Chiron10/6/07

Thomas Paine's Rights of Man: A Biographyby Christopher Hitchens [Books That Changed the World]

Paine’s great work was required reading in several classes for my BA in Political Science, but I have not read it since. I only wish I had this handy biography of Paine and the extensive commentary of The Rights of Man, Common Sense, and The Age of Reason. Hitchens does a good job of explicating the connections between Paine and the events in England, France, and America during his life. I also found particularly interesting the elucidation of the conflicts and concurrences with Edmund Burke’s Reflections on the Revolution in France.
I would recommend this as an excellent introduction to an actual reading of Paine’s works. We certainly can use a dose of Paine now, considering the state of our nation. An inclusion of all Paine's texts would have made this book perfect. 4-1/2 stars
--Chiron, 10/5/2007

Two by Lars Gustafsson: Elegies and The Stillness of the World Before Bach

I discovered Lars Gustafsson at a writer’s conference in Boston around 1985. John Updike (my all time favorite author) was the speaker, and I asked him something about discovering new authors. He told me he was on a trip and picked up a book by Mr. Gustafsson for the plane ride home. He was immediately drawn to the sparse prose, and wrote a review for The New Yorker. I purchased Death of a Beekeeper (simply for the title) and The Tennis Players, because I liked the cover. I eventually acquired the rest of his fiction. Recently I discovered that he had several volumes of poetry, and these are the first two to arrive.
Maybe I should have stuck to the fiction. Obviously the same author wrote both volumes, and while the spare, bleak, “Bergmanesque” style works for me in a novel, these powerfully crafted poems are a little too overwhelming. Example from Elegies, “Elegy: On the Surface”:

I still recall the Swedish summer night,
not without being amazed at the actual

existence of a thing. All the clocks stop,
and the “fretty Chervil,” so solemn it is,

so still, it might be meaning to apologize
for the few short weeks of its presence

in the dark integrity of this world. (23)

If you like dark, somber poetry, these are the books for you. I don’t deny the mastery of the language and imagery, just not the tone and the mood I feel when reading them.
--Chiron, 10/02/2007

180 More: Extraordinary Poems for Every Day Selected and with an Introduction by Billy Collins

A wonderful collection by my favorite poet. Two things: Collins did not include any of his own poems – mighty unusual for this sort of collection. Second, the introduction, wherein Collins explains his ideas of a “good” poem, and, thereby, his rationale for selecting the poems he includes, is wonderful.
The premise of the volume is simple. When he was poet laureate (2000-2001), he promoted the idea of 180 poems – one for each day of the school year, to “bring back to poetry those readers who have lost interest or who have had the poetry scared out of them by bad teaching or the wrong menu of poems to choose from” (xviii). I would add: those readers who were subjected to the horrific memorization of every poem in the book. That makes me a prime candidate for this collection.
Don’t be afraid. These poems are all accessible, fun, and, while some are serious, none require a literature degree.
--Chiron, 10/01/07

Cultural Amnesia by Clive James

Next up!
--Chiron, 8/27/07

I am up to the letter "F" -- hard to spend much time on this since school started, but I devote every spare minute to it. More later!
--Chiron, 9/12/07

"R" hang on! Almost finished!
--Chiron, 9/23/2007

Finally! Teaching full time takes up huge chunks of time that I could otherwise spend reading. Those few precious moments must not be wasted. Clive James' newest book is definitely worth the investment of lots of small pieces of reading time.
Cultural Amnesia consists of 106 essays of figures, from the last 100 years or so, who have had a significant impact on culture. James includes a disparate selection of individuals from Beatrix Potter to Adolf Hitler, Louis Armstrong to Franz Kafka, and Charlie Chaplin to Albert Einstein.
Sometimes James examines the writings of his subjects directly, and sometimes he spreads a wider net to include those around the subject of a particular essay. I found the essay on Louis Armstrong to be one of my favorites. I know who he is, and I like his music, but I was not aware of the profound influence he had on jazz and American pop culture.
James has forced me to the bookstore, Amazon, and ABEBooks, or other vendors, dozens of times to fill in gaps in my library. I bought a complete set of the tales of Beatrix Potter, Keats' poetry, and I am going to take another look at F. Scott Fitzgerald. James spends a lot of ink and paper on the French left between the wars, and I skipped some of those essays (so many books, so little time). And he does drop an occasional crazy comment: "[Kafka] has influenced almost everything written since [his death]: not even James Joyce had such an impact" (343). Sorry, have to disagree here. Joyce's Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man killed the 19th century as T.S. Eliot said. Most stream of consciousness traces itself to Joyce.
On the whole, however, it was a more than worthwhile read. I encountered many interesting people I had never heard of, and a few I wish I still had not heard of. But this buffet has more than enough to satisfy even the most discriminating tastes.
--Chiron, 9/25/07

The Maytrees and Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard

I really love Annie Dillard’s prose. Lyrical, poetic, and sensuous are too weak to fully describe her style. Her new novel, The Maytrees is one of those stories that drops the reader right onto Cape Cod, into Provincetown, and on the beach in a “clam shack.” I imagine the “shack” as the characters call it, to be like the clam shacks that dot the Jersey shore on the mainland and the bay side of the barrier islands. I spent many years down there, and I still hanker to be nearer the ocean, or at least the Gulf of Mexico. There is something about the sounds, the smell of salt spray, the sun, the breeze off the ocean that is mystical and magical. Dillard takes me right back to those childhood days on the boardwalks and beaches of South Jersey.
I must admit, however, that some (a few, not too many) sentences seemed tortured and forced me to re-read to parse out the meaning. Those were like sudden waves that came crashing down without warning, few enough to be only a minor distraction.
This book also inspired me to re-read Annie Dillard’s classic Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. I read this many years ago, but recently discovered I had lost my copy. I am glad I replaced so I had it within easy reach. I find this the best part of buying and keeping, lots of books, right?
If you don’t know Dillard, start with Pilgrim, go onto to A Writer’s Life, then dive into Maytrees. You won’t be disappointed, and I think you will find a new favorite author.
--Chiron, 9/29/07

The Missionary Position: Mother Theresa in Theory and Practice by Christopher Hitchens

A saint? Give me a break! This woman was a hypocrite, a conniver, a shameless panderer from the wealthy, corrupt, and tyrannical, among whom are included Baby Doc Duvalier, Enver Hoxha of Albania, the Sandanistas in Nicaragua, and Charles Keating. This last “donated” $125 million to Mother Theresa from funds he looted from Lincoln Savings and Loan. The majority of shareholders in this scandal were the working poor and middle class families. Prior to his sentencing, Mother Theresa wrote a letter to the judge asking for mercy for Keating, “as Jesus would do.” When one of the prosecutors pointed out the source of the donation, and turned the tables and asked her “would Jesus keep a gift stolen from the poor?” he received no reply and no refund. A former employee of Mother Theresa reported that one checking account for the convent in Brooklyn contained over $50 million. The money was not to be used for the poor. MT frequently said poverty was a gift and to be born cheerfully. Instead of using the untold hundreds of millions of dollars to alleviate the suffering of the poor and dying, MT used the money to build and outfit convents to attract more members to her order. Most of these buildings boast gold ornaments, gold altar implements, and expensive vestments. When her order was offered an empty building to house the poor, she refused it, because regulations required the installation of an elevator to accommodate the handicapped. MT said that no such convenience should not be available to those that bore a gift from God. The city offered to pay for all renovation, including the elevator, but she refused and the project was abandoned.
Christopher Hitchens testified before the Vatican commission to determine whether or not MT should be moved along toward sainthood with beatification. The purported miracle was debunked by the photographer who shot some footage in a darkened room. He explained that some new, ultra-sensitive film was used.
Her establishments are nothing more than houses of death. They contain the barest of furnishings and rarely provide any pain medication, even aspirin, for those dying of cancer, plague, AIDS, leprosy, and other dreadful illnesses. Suffering, after all, is a gift from God and not to be shortened or alleviated. Interestingly enough, when MT was suffering from heart problems, she checked herself into the finest clinics in the world.
Disgusting.
--Chiron, 9/23/07

On the Road by Jack Kerouac

I thought it would be appropriate to add a comment about On the Road, Jack Kerouac’s counter-culture classic of the beat generation of the late 50s and 60s, on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of its publication.
I first read it as a rebellious college freshman in 1966. It was considered hip and dangerous. Of course, I didn't really "get" it then – we all snickered at the casual pot references. Most of us (some truthfully) claimed to have tried weed, but, as the saying went, "it did nothing for me."
Reading it again, about two years ago, I had a totally different perspective. I saw the angst and the searching in the 60s for something besides the "Ozzie and Harriet, two kids, a dog, and white picket fence" that was everyone's ideal in the 50s. I also saw, for the first time, a person's life laid out as a literal and figurative journey. This second read was much more serious than the first, and I think it is a metaphor for the searching that all of us do -- some with pot, some with religion, some with alcohol. Is it a great book? Nah, but it is a great book about the 60s. I am glad I read it, but it won't go on my "desert island shelf."
--Chiron, 09/12/07

Falling Man by Don DeLillo

My introduction to DeLillo was Underworld. I loved that story, I loved those characters, and I loved the smooth, easy style. I couldn’t bear to put it down. Then I moved onto The Body Artist, and I was disappointed. The style was different, the story was disjointed, and I could not understand why.
Falling Man is something between those two books. There are flashes of wonderful writing. The description of Keith in his office as the first tower was struck is riveting. Other portions of the book are difficult to follow. I read part of one chapter -- thinking it was a continuation of the same character’s story – when I suddenly discovered it was different characters, a different story, and a different place.
The idea is interesting and true to life – 9/11 did change people’s lives, and attitudes, and relationships, and I can understand how the narrative form reinforces those themes, but I was not entralled, I was not drawn into the narrative until the very end. I am not sure why I did not invoke the rule of fifty – something kept me going – but I will be darned if I know what it was.
--Chiron, 8/27/07

Ten Questions for Book Bloggers

I've seen this posted on a friend’s bookblog, so herewith is my farthings worth.

What are you reading right now?
Don Delillo’s Falling Man; Herodotus [I am always dipping in and out of this), John Updike’s best [IMHO] novel, The Centaur and Homer’s Odyssey both of which I read at least annually, and whatever Al Franken book I happen to have handy; oh yes, I almost forgot: an amazing non-fiction book.

Do you have any idea what you’ll read when you’re done with that?
No, I wander through my shelves and find something that looks like the next book I am supposed to read.

What magazines do you have in your bathroom right now?
None in the bathroom – it is too damp, makes the pages curl. But, on my coffee table, I have The New Yorker, Newsweek, Atlantic, Times (London) Literary Supplement, London Review of Books, New York Review of Books, The New York Times Book Review, and a National Geographic issue on Zebras.

What’s the worst thing you were ever forced to read?
American Literature from 1492 to 1840 or so. This was the only lit class I ever took that I really hated. It has permanently damaged my tastes for American Literature.

Admit it, the librarians at your library know you on a first name basis, don’t they?
No. My wife is a librarian, so on the extremely rare occasions when I borrow books, she does it for me. Buying books, saving books, being able to write in the margins, underline, annotate is delicious.

What’s the one book you always recommend to just about everyone?
The Centaur, Stones of Summer by Dow Mossman, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Dubliners, Ulysses, Cat’s Eye by Margaret Atwood, and Patrick White’s The Aunt’s Story. How could any serious, committed reader have only one?

Is there a book you absolutely love, but for some reason, people never think it sounds interesting, or maybe they read it and don’t like it at all?
Anything by Joyce, Stones of Summer, and The Aunt's Story by Patrick White.

Do you read books while you eat? While you bathe? While you watch movies or TV? While you listen to music? While you’re on the computer? While you’re having sex? While you’re driving?
This is a huge question with lots of depends. When I am alone (not often anymore), I always read when I eat. Shower, no baths, so out of the question (see bathroom/magazine question above). Sometimes I read magazines and/or newspapers when I watch TV. Computer too important to my work, so I take reading breaks when I am working. NEVER when I am having sex – my focus is laser-like then! Not when I am driving, but when I am riding on long trips.

When you were little, did other children tease you about your reading habits?
Yes. Every summer I joined the “Vacation Reading Club” at my local branch of the Free Library of Philadelphia. From 5th grade on, the librarian came to school every September to give me a certificate for reading ten books over the summer (as if that was some trick for me. I usually finished the ten books by the fourth of July). As years passed, there were fewer and fewer certificate winners. Finally, in 8th grade, I was the only one. They teased me all those years, but thankfully, I ignored them. I still am suspicious of anything that even begins to smell like peer pressure.

What’s the last thing you stayed up half the night reading because it was so good you couldn’t put it down?
Dow Mossman’s The Stones of Summer. The book is over 700 pages, and as I got deeper and deeper it sucked me in like quicksand. I think I read the last 150 pages in one night.

An amazing book!

I am reading a wonderful non-fiction book of case studies, which contain real stories, accurate descriptions, and unbiased commentary by the sociologist who conducted a study of 208 middle-class adults.
The descriptions by the subjects of the study are dead-on, 100% accurate. This is one of the most life-affirming books I have ever read.
More about this later. Sorry, but I can’t tell you the title or the author.
--Chiron, 6/22/07

I am now deeper into this book, and hardly a character inhabits the pages that does not share something with me. The further I read the more I see I am not alone.
--Chiron, 6/27/07

Tipperary by Frank Delaney

N.B. -- I wrote this review for Random House and the Early Reviewer program of www.LibraryThing.com. See the website for details.

Historic fiction is one of the many “phases” I went through in my reading life. Cecilia Holland was my favorite along with a few others. My favorite periods were medieval England, ancient Greece and Rome, and 19th century England.
In all of that reading, however, I never encountered anything quite like Frank Delaney’s Tipperary. Neither have I ever read any book along with another person leaning over my shoulder and commenting on the story or providing additional background which mostly confirms the story Charles O’Brien spins.
And spin he does. O’Brien (and, of course Delaney) prove the value of Tolstoy’s advice that “nothing should escape the notice of the writer.” The detail they provide draws the reader into late 19th and early 20th century Ireland. This of course is the heyday of James Joyce, one of my favorite writers. While Joyce focused on the city, Delaney covers the country.
However, I find the characters and situations somewhat unbelievable – even with the validation of a “modern day narrator.” It strikes me as most improbable that a country herbalist would meet the cast of characters that populate the turbulent times in early 20th century Ireland.
The problem is compounded in the brief meeting with James Joyce. As a Joyce scholar (my master’s thesis was on Joyce), I find it entirely incredible that Charles would offer a passing comment to “make them [Joyce’s novels] complicated.” The house of cards falls flat for me on this one incident. Furthermore, Delaney has a character quote John Donne’s “Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions” out of context and completely inappropriately.
The story is interesting, but not enough to suspend disbelief to the extent Delaney asks the reader to do. Could Charles have really walked into Dublin during the middle of the Easter 1916 uprising, and as easily have walked out? Remember Dr. Mudd? He was the surgeon who set John Wilkes Booth’s leg on the fateful night in April of 1865. He was tried and convicted despite some pretty convincing evidence of his innocence; his name continues to be smeared to this day. Considering the brutality of the English response to the Easter uprising, as correctly reported by Charles, I find it implausible that he could have simply walked away from Bolands Mill following the surrender of the Sinn Fein volunteers.
In my opinion, historical fiction must carry the reader into a distant time and culture without any nagging doubts as to the plausibility of the characters or events. Forrest Gump did it, and I didn’t believe it then, and I don’t buy it now. Three of five stars.
--Chiron, 8/16/07