The Best Book I’ve Read This Year…

I’ve read a lot of really good books this year, but The Art of Racing in the Rain definitely takes the prize.  I’ve never been so genuinely moved by a novel.  From the first page, I had fallen in love with Enzo, the narrator, and I just could not put the book down.  In some ways, it is a simple story but at the same time it is so much more complicated.  It’s about love, dedication, perserverance, faith, friendship, hope and auto racing.  What more could a girl want?  I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys great writing, loves dogs or believes in the zen of racing.  And I don’t care how big and tough you think you are, make sure you have some Kleenex.

Book Update

What I’ve been enjoying lately:

1. In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto by Michael Pollan – I think it is fair to say that this book might have changed my life.  Maybe a lot of what Pollan discusses in this book should be common sense, but I had just never thought about why I eat what I do.  I cannot wait to read The Omnivore’s Dilemma when I get through my current stack.

2.  The World Without Us by Alan Weisman – I really like Weisman’s approach to this concept.  Fantastic writing, great information and a creative viewpoint.  And it scares the hell out of me, which I think is probably part of the point.  I highly suggest this book for everyone…

3.  Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky – I was really excited about this book, but it didn’t fit my expectations at all.  The story of its creation and reappearance is the stuff of legend.  And Nemirovsky’s ability to envision the scope of a war as it was happening is nothing short of remarkable.  But, as for actually reading it, meh…

4.  The Collectors and Stone Cold by David Baldacci – My mother made me read the first in this series, The Camel Club, some time ago.  I was hesitant, but I have to admit that my Mom was right–this series has a great cast of kooky characters.  Fun and suspenseful, I enjoyed them all.  It’s a shame that Stone Cold is probably the last with these characters.

Next up: The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea.  I’ve heard great things, so here’s to hoping.

Another Quote

I’m currently reading The Wild Trees and this line stopped me cold:
“We do know that whatever happens to the great systems of nature will also be what happens to us.”
Shivers down my spine.

Top 5 Books I’ve Read Recently

I highly recommend any of these…

1. The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
2. A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah
3. Thunderstruck by Erik Larson
4. The Last Season by Eric Blehm
5. The Wild Trees by Richard Preston

This sentence stopped me in my tracks…

“Was it only by dreaming or writing that I could find out what I thought?”

Joan Didion wrote that line in her latest book, and I was a bit unprepared for it. I had been sailing through the book, not really having to think too much, when this came along.

What an interesting thought… And I feel like I could have said it. Which makes me wonder…Am I that far removed from myself? Are we all?

Writing has always been a way for me to work things out in my head. I am sure that it is that way for many people. And dreams… How often have I escaped into my dreams? But, is it true that I can’t know my own mind without the aid of one of these tools? Or is it that I just lack confidence in my instincts? I need the confirmation of words on paper or images already played out?

The funny thing is, I’ve actually got pretty good instincts. They’ve served me well so far. When I’ve found myself in trouble, it’s generally because I failed to acknowledge my instincts, not that they failed me.

But, I had to write that down. Point proven.

First, the highbrow…

On my break today, I grabbed Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States and flipped to the middle of the book (dealing with the period immediately following the Spanish-American War).  Two quotes he includes hit me:

How our hearts burned with indignation against the atrocious Spaniards!… But when the smoke was over, the dead buried, and the cost of war came back to the people in the increase in the price of commodities and rent–that is, when we sobered up from our patriotic spree–it suddenly dawned on us that the cause of the Spanish-American war was the price of sugar… that the lives, blood, and money of the American people were used to protect the interests of the American capitalists.

-Emma Goldman

I bring you the stately matron named Christendom, returning bedraggled, besmirched, and dishonored from pirate raids in Kiao-Chou, Manchuria, South Africa, and the Philippines, with her soul full of meanness, her pocket full of boodle, and her mouth full of pious hypocrisies.

- Mark Twain

Hmm.  Not much has changed.

A Quote From a Book I’ve Been Reading:

“…there are times in life when you must murder the past.  Take a hatchet to what you used to be.  Ax down the familiar world.  It’s hard, very painful, but it is better to do it than to keep the soul trapped in circumstances it can no longer abide.  It may be that we had a way of life that used to satisfy us, but it does so no more; or a dream which has soured by long-keeping, or a pleasure which has become a habit.   Outworn expectations, Sister, are a cage in which the soul rots away, like a mangy beast in a menagerie.  When the reality in our head and the reality in the world are at a disjunction, we feel pained, fretted–Fretted.  Irritated.  Itching.  Flayed.  Besides, I’m not sure about this killing the flesh.  We have a saying, If it were not for the earth in our work the air would fly away, niether would the fire have its nourishment, nor the water its vessel.“

Rare & Endangered Species

(As I’ve mentioned too many times before) I’m going through a short story period at the moment.  Despite the fact that I have piles of books at home, waiting to be read, I decided to check out a few books from the library.  It was one of those days that I went to the fiction section without a plan and just waited to see what would happen.

I chose three books: The Shawl by Cynthia Ozick, Rare & Endangered Species by Richard Bausch and The Bridegroom by Ha Jin.  Ozick I had read in a contemporary Jewish fiction class in college, but the other two were unknown to me.  They just looked interesting.

I have started with Rare & Endangered Species, and I really like Bausch’s writing style.  In a way, it’s very simple–one or two characters, a specific idea or situation, minimal dialogue.  But, he delves so completely into each character or moment that it becomes immediately complex.

You know, I usually research any book I am considering and find reviews in Amazon, Publisher’s Weekly, the NYT.  No more.  I’m going to read by happenstance.

Rebecca Wells and the Ya-Yas

Although I am still in my gunshy state, as far as reading goes, I did actually read a novel over the weekend.  But it might be fair to point out that it was really just another collection of short stories.

When Rebecca Wells put out Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, I fell immediately in love with it.  Maybe it was the Southern girl in me, or maybe it was the fact that she so perfectly created those characters and the setting (and the scents, and the intoxication, and…).  Whatever it was, I loved it.

Then I went backwards and read Little Altars Everywhere.  Even though it was technically first, I am very glad I read it second.  It didn’t have the hook that Divine Secrets had–it seemed more like a character study.  But it was good.

So when I saw Ya-Yas in Bloom in the bargain bin for $5.99, I knew I had to buy it.  I had already been warned by most people that it would be a huge letdown, so I was prepared.

I’m so glad that everyone told me I would hate it.  ‘Cause then I didn’t.  It was no masterpiece, to be sure.  But a nice little collection of vignettes.  Those characters are so vivid in my mind, any stories about them are welcome.  And congrats to Wells for creating these people that have stuck with me for the past 10 years.  That’s not an easy task.

A Gun Shy Reader

I’ve been trying to read the same book since December.

Yep, that’s right.  December.  I’m so ashamed.  And in my line of work…

(Now it becomes clear why it’s been so long since I posted.)

Snow by Orhan Pamuk.  It’s wrecked me.  I feel like I can never read again.  I just could not finish that damn book, no matter what.  I promised myself a full-on drunken celebration if I finished the last 100 pages by the end of January, but even that didn’t work.  Pamuk, what have you done to me?

It’s not that the book was boring, or poorly written, or even poorly translated.  I just couldn’t do it.  And I like to read everything.

I feel as if I should resign my position.  I shouldn’t be allowed to call myself a librarian.

But, instead, I’ll read short stories for awhile and try to build up my confidence.  I’m a bit gun shy just now.