A Single Layer

As my last post may suggest, I reread Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South this week. I had other things to do(read), but couldn't help myself. It's been pounding through my head for weeks. It would have been faster to watch the film, but I've done that often enough - and where, oh where, is my second dvd? It is good to remember all the myriad ways the film falls short of the novel. The film is so clearly a contemporary production - it washes itself clean from all inter-class condescension that would offend our politically correct senses, and strips itself bare of any suggestions of moralization or religious conviction. We moderns just wouldn't relate. In the novel, the pivotal misunderstanding between Margaret Hale and Mr. Thornton centers on a lie. That just won't do for a film. Anyone would lie given the circumstances! It must be more salacious than that. The material is there for a greater misunderstanding - it is suggested, but even Mr. Thornton cannot quit...

Betty Carter has a review of Anne Rice's latest novel up at First Things . I've never read Anne Rice, but I'm continually fascinated by her. I saw the film 'Interview with a Vampire' and I remember my high school friends who were obsessed with her stories of dark, hopeless, 'omnisexual' vampiricism. I've read countless reviews of her work, both before and after her return to Catholicism, and it never seems possible for the reviewer to separate the experience of the novel from that of the author. Her newest book, Angel Time , is the same way. Reading the review, I confessed to some nervousness that a book about redemption and divine love could be pulled off without sounding trite. I've seen it often enough in Christian fiction. Carter even says as much in the review, and I quote this most especially because it refers to one of my favorite authors: 'Even the greatest writers struggle to describe human goodness, and very few (William Blake, Charles...

I just finished Shiver , by Maggie Stiefvater, the other day. From the first few chapters, I had every reason to expect this book to rival the other dark-teen-romance novels recently released (you know which ones I mean). And in a way, it did. There was nothing obnoxious about this book. The characters were mostly believable and endearing. The story was subtle and simple. Maybe a little too simple. At times, maybe a little too subtle. The best chapters were the ones from Sam's point of view, when he's a wolf. That doesn't take up a whole lot of the story, unfortunately. I mean, it would seriously hamper the progression of the plot if he was a wolf for much more of the time, but the writing was still at its best then. Perhaps because it seemed that the poetic, lyrical passages were justified. I like Rilke just fine, and I know plenty of people who compose song lyrics in their heads, but Sam as a human was just maybe a little too emo for me. It could just be that I'm almo...

I just finished reading Catching Fire , the eagerly-awaited sequel to Suzanne Collins's magnificently popular teen novel The Hunger Games , that came out last year. It was a wonderful read, and I continue to be amazed by the author's ability to weave together so many bizarre, disparate elements to create a compelling, convincing story. Like The Hunger Games , there were several parts where I stopped to ask, 'is she talking about this oppressive post-apocalyptic society, or is she talking about our own?' If M. T. Anderson's Feed feels too hard and desperate, these books tackle the same themes without leaving you hopeless for the human race. Ultimately, they are less about sending a message (though a message remains), and more about telling a really fascinating story. Katniss has just won the Hunger Games without losing her partner - an unprecedented act of rebellion against the Capitol that cannot be ignored. Now she must face the consequences of her victory - and t...

Watched 'O Jerusalem' with Dad tonight. Preparation for his trip to Israel with Mom this Christmas? JJ Feild continues to be one of my favorite actors, though I wish he had a bigger part in this one. For unfamiliar audiences though, there was too much history to cover, too many details of time, place, and people to establish before characters could be properly explored. Because of this, of course, it was difficult to wholly relate to the characters. What should have made me cry only resulted in a furrowed brow. That was part of the point, though - that the city, not the characters, win your heart. But hasn't it already? Don't we all, even strangers, love Jerusalem? Don't we yearn for peace in that city as we long for peace in our own members? Is there not some strange accord between shalom in our hearts and shalom in Israel? If I forget you, O Jerusalem, may my right hand forget its skill. May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do...

So I finished the Mortal Instruments series mentioned and pictured below. Let me tell you, once you get past the absurdity of goo-dripping demons and warlocks in drag, they are really good books. By Book Three ( City of Glass ), Ms. Clare has almost overcome her interruptive tendencies and even - almost - developed the majority of her central cast to a point where we actually care what happens to them. But that's not really why they're worth reading. You see, I am on a perpetual hunt for phenomenal heroes, and she wrote one. In fact, I am creating a new label for this blog. Because I intend to find more*. In these books, the hero in question is named Jace. I quibbled with such a contemporary, made-up name for our hero, until I discovered that it was a nickname hiding all sorts of fabulous identity crises. You see, Jace does not know who he is, where he has come from, or even what he was made of. Literally. Applying the phrase 'internal demons' to him is ironic in a numb...

Just finished the first in the Mortal Instruments series, City of Bones , by Cassandra Clare. This is, of course, all part of my Summer of Reading thing, which has no plan or purpose other than to read as much as possible of anything not on my reading list. As many 'throw-away' books as possible. In fact, the only thing on my reading list I actually intend to read in Les Miserables , and I don't honestly think I'll finish that till December. I like the idea of one massive tome defining a year. Ms. Clare is objecting to my use of the phrase 'throw-away book' in the same paragraph as her Mortal Instruments series. But really, Ms. Clare, if you compare it to the books that are on my reading list, you would understand. I hope. I started reading this series for two reasons. First, I was curious to know if it was worth suggesting to book-buying patrons. I mean, I've put it right there on the table along with Stephenie Meyer. People do ask questions. Second, and m...

I finished Feed yesterday, but I thought of it last night while I was trying to fall asleep and I thought of it this morning on the way to church and I thought of it some more on the way home from Oxnard, watching the billboards shout out at me from along the 405. Feed is a classic dystopian science fiction novel. But unlike most of the ones we read in school, it was written very recently - with awareness of the internet/cellular world as a real and pervasive aspect of our culture. More than an aspect, really, because it's so much less than a cultural trait and so much more defining, essential. How do you explain to a child what the world was like before the internet? We aren't just accustomed to the immediacy of communication, globalization, universalized knowledge, etc. We simply can't function without it. In Feed , Anderson follows this to a natural conclusion. The book is set sometime in the future - however distant, I don't quite know - and computers are now plan...

It's raining buckets, and of course that's a good thing. I'd like to remind all my Californian readers that there are plants in the world that don't have sprinkler systems to feed them. Though, I probably shouldn't be allowed to drive in the rain. Just not a good thing for the People. Even so, I'm making the trip back to my place of work in about in hour so that I can join coworkers for dinner and a movie. Coraline !!!! Can't hardly wait. We've been selling the book like bananas to strays. It's pretty incroyable . So, I read Chalice , by our favorite Robin McKinley yesterday. That is, I finished it yesterday. Did I like it? Good question. As Jenny B. and I were saying the other day (on the couch - not on the blog. Don't go checking your references), McKinley has a habit of writing half of her novels with rich, concrete detail, fleshy, earthy, human stuff. And then half-way through, some bit of magic happens and everything gets vague. I don't...

If Cynthia Voigt had written science fiction, it probably would have looked something like The Hunger Games . In Suzanne Collins's newest novel, we meet a protagonist who seems remarkably familiar. Like Voigt's heroines, we understand her story because she seems so much like ourselves - no matter how strenuous or bizarre the circumstances, we feel certain our story would be the same. We, too, would have those resources, that practicality, that certain sensitivity that separates us from the masses. I don't say this critically - it is the book's strongest feature that it identifies with every one of its readers and says 'this could be your story.' It is not just its portrayal of Katniss Everdeen, the novel's heroine, that is familiar. The story takes place in a post-apocalyptic North American nation, Panem. It is a country held together by fear - a fear instilled by the capitol into each of its twelve districts and maintained by a yearly event called the Hunge...

I am very good at having favorites. Every week during storytime, I tell the kids: 'this is one of my favorites!' and then inwardly roll my eyes. They are all 'my favorites'. But there are a few that really are. The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane , for example. Or Lewis's Till We Have Faces . I could read these books twenty times over and still feel that they are new to me. Among my true favorites, there are few picture books. Not because I am a snob about chapters, but it's difficult for me to put picture books in the same category as chapter books to begin with - and then to compare them? It just seems awkward. But let me tell you about The Rough-Faced Girl . If I can. The little blurb on the inside flap calls it a Cinderella story, and I suppose it is that. More than suppose - there's a girl who sits by the cinders, who is mocked by her two proud sisters, who is chosen by the 'prince' instead of them, who is rescued from penury and obscurity b...

I suppose I always knew it would happen. I work books, after all, and these things are the hottest things going. Of course, that reasoning hasn't made me pick up A New Earth or The Last Lecture , or even Stori Telling - but it does have some sway with my choices. Some. A little. Okay, the real reason I picked up Twilight the other day and started reading it in earnest (I am done now and moving on to the next book after work) was because I was talking to Chaeli on the phone while cruising up the 405 (Jenny B was at the wheel - no law-breaking for me), and Chaeli said: 'You have to read them. It is so good for people to be reading these books right now.' So I thought, 'Alright already. If they're culturally relevant, I'll read them.' Let me clarify, I did not avoid these books because I thought they'd be stupid. I'd read the first few pages and knew the writing wasn't bad. And I was 100% certain I would enjoy them. That was half the problem. They...

For the best latte I have tasted outside of Italy, go to the Portfolio Coffeehouse . I'm not trying to be a snob. I have ordered from them three times now, and every time they have given me the most delicious coffee beverage I have tasted since I flew out of Rome one year and a half ago. Patronize this place. Now. If you hesitate, know also that they provide free internet access and curiously compelling wall art. What's holding you back?

I had a thought about blogging the other day, some subject that seemed worthy of these 'pages'. And now, of course, I can't remember what it was. Was it the stranger showering from our sprinkler spigot at three in the morning? My mother saw her from the window, but did not interfere. It seemed an awkward moment to assert property rights. Or was it the teen book I picked up the other day and won't pick up again? A Great and Terrible Beauty , by Libba Bray. It has two sequels and everything. Very unfortunate. It's structured within a post-Victorian British Empire based more on 21st-century prejudices and assumptions of old-world gender-restrictions than actual fact. It seems to try to get away with its diversion from true historical representation by involving itself in a very confused world of dark magic. I say confused, because you find the author has dropped you into it without warning. There were several times where I had to turn back a page or two to find the elu...

Neil Gaiman's newest novel The Graveyard Book is coming out this September, and I think we should throw a party. I am not sure if I've ever read anyone as boldly imaginative as Neil Gaiman. And when I say bold, I mean stand-in-front-of traffic-and-wave-your-arms bold. Except not as stupid. Maybe I should start over. Neil Gaiman has written several novels that have been received with wide acclaim from young and old readers alike. His children's novel, Coraline , had me shivering in my seat with spine-tingling fear - the most delightfully enchanted fear I have ever felt. (Perhaps the only enchanted fear I have ever felt.) He co-wrote the screenplay for Beowulf (2007), introducing a startling perspective on the ancient hero with intelligence and sympathy. His novel Stardust was hilarious and riveting and curious and new and old. As was the film, which he also wrote. Everything I have read or seen of his has been a brilliant fusion of novelty and familiarity. His is the stuf...

I wrote a book review today of my number five favorite book ever, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane . If anyone's interested in reading it - and other bloggings from my favorite bookstore - click here !

I woke up with a scratchy throat yesterday, and this morning was considerably worse. I questioned whether to properly wake up at all, but eventually you just can't help it. So here is my plan for today, as it was yesterday. Before or after a few hours of obligatory online job-hunting (job-hunting in person would be counter-productive in this state of health), I curl up on the couch in front of the picture window stretching out to the sea, take a cup of tea or water in hand, and page slowly and carelessly through Elizabeth Gaskell's Wives and Daughters . I have included a photo from Masterpiece Theatre's 2003 adaptation of the novel. It is one of my favourites, and not, incidentally, because of the inevitable romance. No, I am far more intrigued by the family dynamics (not to mention Molly Gibson's phenomenal hair). It is fascinating to see how behaviours which, on the surface, would seem to destroy relationships, ultimately serve to strengthen them. This is something i...

I try not to post more than once in a day, but I finally saw the film Atonement this afternoon, and it bears blogging. I have developed a bad habit with movies that I know beforehand will be emotionally strenuous. If I even suspect a film of being serious enough to make me cry - a quality I once found almost essential in a good film (I was a melodramatic child) - I get nervous beforehand. I think this began when I saw Dancer in the Dark , a film ... .. I won't bother trying to describe it or its effects. Anyway, I get nervous now. It is better if I go to see it in a theatre, because the process of buying a ticket and wading through the previews reminds me that it is an event. The roll of the credits at the end, the slow walk out of the building, and the mindless drive home all serve to draw me back out of the story and into the world. Not so in my living room. How can I just drop the disc into the machine, curl up on the couch, watch the thing, and then stand back up again like ev...

Flipping open A. S. Byatt's Possession , I find an excerpt from Nathaniel Hawthorne's House of Seven Gables inscribed in the beginning pages. I have not yet begun Byatt's novel. Rather, I started John Connolly's Book of Lost Things instead. To be more accurate, I began Connolly's novel over a month ago in the corner of my bookstore in the last few minutes of a lunch break. Soon realizing that the book deserved more than stolen time, I set it aside to begin in earnest at a later date. That date is the twelfth of March: today. I paused in my reading only to shut the back door, slice some strawberries (which were about to go bad), and make a cup of tea. Oh yes, and to casually open Byatt's novel to the Hawthorne inscription, note its happy relevance to my more committed novel, and blog about it. Here's the inscription: When a writer calls him work a Romance, it need hardly be observed that he wishes to claim a certain latitude, both as to its fashion and mater...

Peter and the Starcatchers by Ridley Pearson and Dave Barry Absolutely worth your while. While it's hardly a work of transcendently mystical childhood magic, it's a remarkably original - but consistent - take on Barrie's curious classic. I have heard from a book-shopping child-reader that the third in the series, Peter and the Secret of Rundoon, isn't nearly as good as the first two. But the first was pretty darn good, so that leaves 'not as good' to be rather not that bad. Pearson and Barry depict the old familiars (Smee, Hook, the Lost Boys) with creative flair. It does not feel like they are rewriting them as much as shedding new light on their origins. Which was, incidentally, the point. Though I will admit that the ending felt a bit too tidily wrapped up. Knowing that there are sequels, I couldn't help but feel that some things could have been saved for later - the bit about Peter flying and his youth and the chomping of Mr Grin. None of this will make ...