I Heart JA

It's been quite a while since I read an Austenprose pick - Major Pettigrew's Last Stand was the last - so I'm certainly due for one.  And this one is a true Austen, not just some tangentially related female-geared novel.  Claire Harman has written Jane's Fame - subtitled "How Jane Austen Conquered the World". Really, you say? Jane Austen rules the world? Well you know I think so at least :) (to the non-existent readers of this blog, I refer you to an old joke, the tagline of which is "Rochel thinks she's the whole world" - see, girls? I'm not the only one!)  The premise of the book? Tracing the growth of Jane Austen's popularity from her lifetime until now.

Now you know I'm not going to argue about Jane Austen's (or, as we Janeites would have it, Jane's :)) popularity or supremacy is the world of literature.  But it's funny to find that so many of my ideas are shared by others, and have been shared for ages.  The idea that one can be judged on their like and dislike of JA - I have said repeatedly that when it comes to girls, I don't get why anyone wouldn't like P&P.  And I consider it a negative trait to dislike it, of course :) And I certainly feel strongly enough about why I like the book to be offended when others try to interpret it in other ways.  And I get a kick out of hearing how all these famous literati worship Austen.  Okay, maybe it makes me a little cliche, but you know what? I don't mind being cliche.  Besides, there aren't *all* that many people who like JA enough to actually read this book... right?

The book itself is a lot of fun to read.  It starts out as a bit of a biography, since it talks about Austen's notoriety during her lifetime.  But, unlike a biography, it talks mostly about Austen's relationship with the public, meaning it largely avoids the speculation necessary to write a comprehensive biography of the author's personal life.  There were a few occasional indulgences in fancy, but nothing to get me too distracted.  And once the book passes into Austen's posthumous reputation, it becomes almost all fact.  There is certainly a liberal sprinkling of interpretation here and there, but mostly forgiveable.  Only the last chapter, talking about Austen's current rise in popularity starting with the '95 P&P reads more like literary criticism than straight fact.

I have to say I'm often skeptical of what there are of Harman's interpretations/musings, so I'm glad they're kept to a minimum.  She's definitely in sync with me in wanting to paint Austen in the best possible light, but at times (a lot of times), she had me thinking, really? Couldn't I write the exact same book about Charlotte Bronte? To some extent, the answer is definitely yes - the Brontes have their fans, and at times, I'm sure, a much larger fan base.  Still... I bet Jane's is bigger :) In the end of the day, I don't need a book to prove to me that Jane Austen is a universal favorite - I have her books as proof that there's every reason she should be.  Hearing the reasons everyone else thinks so (her writing, her wit, her perspicacity, her exquisite touch, her realism, her feel-good bent...) are a fun confirmation though, most definitely.

Verdict: 3.5/5

Disappointingly True to Life

Dipping my toe in the waters of something different, I next picked up another multiply-renewed, off the shelf choice, Karen Joy Fowler's The Sweetheart Season.  Now I, like everyone else, know about KJF solely for her The Jane Austen Book Club, which I naturally read, since it has Jane Austen in the title and the movie adaption stars Hugh Dancy ;).  She also wrote a bunch of other books, apparently starting quite a while ago, and for some reason I took it into my head to give them (or one of them) a try.  KJF is definitely not chic lit, she's far more serious than that, but she's also definitely women's fiction, which is never a bad thing :) The Sweetheart Season, unlike The Jane Austen Book Club, is historical fiction, which is also usually a positive factor in the genre-weighing.

The interesting thing about the book was that it was not only historical fiction in the sense that it takes place in post WWII small town America, it is also almost historical in the sense that it was written (I think) in the early nineties.  It's really funny how I felt like the tone was so different... I don't know that I can really put my finger on it, or that it wasn't at least somewhat imagined, but I felt like the sensitivities of the author were really at least somewhat different than ours (that's ours as in us 21st-century-ers of course :)).  It could also have been that the setting was admittedly falsified, painting a rosy-simple picture of the war and post-war feel prevalent in the American midwest.  But whether it was real or not, it's certainly more what I want to read about - that time when there were heroes and good defeated evil (that's a good example of a nineties sensitivity, a preoccupation with the comparatively stark picture of good and evil of WWII vs. later).

But don't get me wrong, this book was not about the war at all, or even about trying to get back to normal afterwards.  This book was about the characters.  The back cover references Lake Woebegone, I don't really see the connection between this mostly sympathetic crew and the completely comedic Prairie Home Companion bunch, but they definitely have their funny side.  The girls, their families, their adjunct men, and the head-of-the-mill family each have their own strong and distinct personalities to make sure things get mixed up.  And they do get mixed up, at least enough to keep me entertained.  The book is ostensibly about baseball, but luckily doesn't spend too much time on any sporting detail at all.  It's really more about the girls finding their own way, which they do with varying degrees of success.

In the end, the question of course comes down to where the main character, Irini, ends up.  Irini is supposed to end up with Walter, that's for sure, and she does.  Unfortunately, instead of them getting together in a nice and satisfying finish, they just kind of fade into it, and then not really at all.  Actually they don't even really get together until two years after ending, and then it's pretty much off the scenes.  Irini's father gets a nice enough wife in the end, Irini herself gets out of the town, and lots of other good things happen, so it's not all bad.  But it's not really anything to celebrate either (and that's besides a really bizarre twist involving some early McCarthyism).  And that's before the epilogue... which we are in fact *warned* not to read, because it contains the information that Irini ends up breaking up with Walter :( (after they have a daughter, the narrator).  Way to bring us down to reality, dude.  So basically, I was fully prepared to enjoy this book, but that ending did not make it easy.

Verdict: 2.9/5

Surprising- (and Pleasant-)ly Down to Earth

After my mad May frenzy, I calmed down a bit, secure in my ability to finish all my library books once and for all.  Next on the list was Cecilia Ahern's Book of Tomorrow, which I have to date renewed... wait for it... 7 times :) (it's considered new, so each renewal is only two weeks).  No more though, I am DONE :) (not that it was such an accomplishment, don't get me wrong).  You all know Cecilia Ahern, even though I haven't reviewed her books yet, I don't think.  She's a bit on the chic lit side, but only because I don't think many men are reading her books.  They have a bit of romance usually, they are *all* about relationships, they end happily enough for the most part, have some serious-ish soul searching thrown in, and to top it all off, never fail to sprinkle a little fairy dust.

The Book of Tomorrow is no exception to all that.  It starts off angsty, with the suicide of the main character's father, and continues with her realization that she is, in fact, not a very nice person.  But it's not dark, just maybe a bit obvious.  On the plus side, the main character is sixteen, so she's allowed to be an idiot, which makes her naive amorality a little more believable, and definitely more funny.  Since the tagline of the book was something about knowing what tomorrow will bring, and would you want that, I was afraid the plot would descend into that sort of philosophical morass, but it stayed surprisingly fresh of such uncomfortable questions.  Though the diary tells Tamara some notion of her future, it never gets her in trouble.  Instead the book morphs into a sort of mystery, with Tamara exploring her own and her mother's hidden past.  And in that respect, it becomes surprisingly compelling.  While I don't think I would have had any patience with Tamara drawing herself further and further into the trap of using "magic" for the wrong reasons, I was genuinely curious to find out what in fact were the real relationships among the shadowy figures populating the novel's backstory and how they relate to those in  the foreground (;))

I guess in the end I was a little disappointed (I think the ending was a lot more obvious to all of us than it was to Tamara), but overall, I don't think Cecilia Ahern did a bad job at all with this, more mysterious, storyline.  I almost don't remember what she usually manages to fill out her books with, but I have a feeling it involves a lot more discomfort and tension than this little number.  In that sense, this book definitely compares favorable to some of her other recent ones... I suppose it is less emotion-wrought than her other ones, which could be viewed as a  bad thing, but of course does draw the reader in, if annoying at the same time.  This book didn't have that same level of shut-up-already-it-ness as a lot her others, but it also is slightly more boring I think.  I'm not really complaining about this, it was a nice little story in its own right.  And if it wasn't that romantic either, well it had something, and I don't know that I was expecting more.  So basically, didn't disappoint, because not many expectations :)

Verdict: 3/5

A Redemption, Definitely Somewhat Of A Redemption

After hearing this next title, will your reaction be, Rochel, are you a glutton for punishment? I don't think so, though reading yet another Jill Mansell might seem to imply that.  This was the one I mentioned (did you catch it? :)) as being in between the eerily (okay, let's not go that far :)) similar plotted ones I read before.  I'm going to finish this really fast to get in to May, so bottom line was it had different plot line! and a better plot line! Made me remember why I enjoy these books at all - they are silly, very silly, but you know, there's a decent romance somewhere at the center.  In the end, the storyline morphed into something more similar to the other two - does she have a hang up about it or something? - but I can't say I didn't enjoy most of the book :)

Verdict: 2.9/5

Taking Humor In the Spirit It's Intended

He just never stops, so I can't either... Alexander McCall Smith has published yet another book.  This one, the third Corduroy mansions, has only been published in England so far (as is typical of that series and 44 Scotland St), but I was able to obtain a copy, thanks of course to my dear cousin Sarah Sp.  For the curious, here's my review of the second one, also published from Chapman Lake (oh yes, I'm here in CL for Memorial Day :)) I have to say, it was almost funny to reading the review from last year.  First of all, I think my blogging style has definitely changed, though I guess not hugely tangibly.  The interesting thing was that I spent that whole complaining how the ridiculousness of it all was driving me crazy until I realized the whole thing was a joke.

The funny thing about that is that, with this book, I also noticed the ridiculous characterization and improbable plot twists immediately... but this time, I was immediately aware that they were meant in a wholly humorous bent, with not one corner of the eye on their believability index (interesting turn of phrase, though I don't think entirely successful :))... can I say thanks to my post of last year for that cognizance of tone? Why not? :)  I mean, first and foremost, there's the gentleman in canine form, Freddy de la Hay.  There's the complete and utter antipathy of Berthea Snark, psychoanalyst, towards her own son, a more vile human being than most.  There's the tale of Hugh, kidnapped by Columbians to salsa dance on their cruise ship... yeah, you get the point.  But it's all funny.  Lightly told, highly engaging, and ever so humorous.  And not only that, I have definitely started to care about at least one - well actually two - characters, FdlH and his owner William.  Everyone else I can pretty much take or leave, but mostly they're worth taking.

I felt like this book ended less abruptly than some of the others, Sarah Sp. thinks he may not have written it as a serial, which would explain it.  It definitely had some unfinished storylines, but it wasn't like, what? you can't just leave it like that, for the most part.  And a huge plus, I really didn't notice any political, or moral, or philosophic statements I disagreed with getting in the way.  Another product of not writing a serial? Or did AMS just get tired of it all already? Or maybe I just wasn't watching for it... either way, nothing arose to cloud my enjoyment of this delightfully charming romp through England.

Verdict: 3.75/5

Is Chic Lit That Hard to Write?

Take a look at the last three entries - non-fiction, classic, non-fiction.  Not surprising that I felt myself ready for something slightly lighter... the particular something available was yet another Jill Mansell, so that's what I picked up next on that Shabbos afternoon two weeks ago, after finishing not one, but two books previously.  I don't know whether the high caliber literature I had become used to ;) made me more sensitive than usual to the book's defects but...

Well we all know what those defects are.  Jill Mansell doesn't exactly write for the ages.  Her characters are often overblown, some of them are always completely uninteresting to me, her writing can just make you wince... but for all that, there are times when she's good, solid, chic lit.  This was not one of those times.  You know how I'm complained how the last one I read failed the chic lit litmus by not centering on the romantic tension of the two characters? How we knew right away they liked each other, it was just annoying dithering that kept them apart? Guess what? She did it again! I mean seriously, the same plot.  Girl likes guy, but he's a bit of a player so she's afraid to get involved, despite the fact that it's obvious he like her too! I mean really, two in a row? To be fair, it wasn't actually two in a row.  I skipped over one because this one was new and couldn't be renewed, and the other one could be.  But I literally had ZERO patience for this book.  I think the most exciting part was when there was a fire, which would normally just provoke an eyeroll at the overdramatic plot lines and then a light skimming (not that it didn't do that anyway, just that I felt actually a little more intrigued by that twist than most of the book).  It didn't really ever get better,  I basically just plowed my way through to the inevitable, ridiculous sappy ending.

Verdict: 2/5

I Love Books About Book Lovers

Delving even further into minor English classics of the mid-twentieth century, 84 Charing Cross Road was another long standing item on my BTRL (Books to Read List, naturellement :)) Again, don't know where I first heard it mentioned, but when I found out it was a non-fiction epistolary style memoir, and that the two people don't even meet in the end (spoiler? sorry :)) I was less than eager to put it at the top.  But I've heard it praised a few times, so I put it on hold.  I was pleasantly surprised when it turned out to be a teeny-weeny 100 page or so paperback, and even more pleasantly surprised when I picked it up on the plane to Mountain View a month ago.  I was kind of reading it to put myself to sleep but I found myself caught up in the writing almost immediately.  Since it was really interrupted reading (in middle of Mark Twain), I didn't pick it up again until a while later, two Shabbosim ago when I was home in Queens.

To begin with, there was definitely an overdeveloped sense of anticipation, since I had found the book so unexpectedly enjoyable.  It was to be expected then, that there would be a sense of not living up to expectations.  I guess that manifested itself in my reaction to the writer, Helen Hanff's, breezy sense of humor.  It's cute and funny, but... maybe a little too blithe? I'm not really complaining, the truth is, how can you complain about a real person? This wasn't someone writing an epistolary novel, this was actual letters from an American... well I suppose spinster would be the easiest way to describe a single woman in the 50's, but she not very spinsterish at all.  She's a writer for television, one with definite intellectual tastes, but one who seems to take life very much in stride and live to enjoy.  On the other hand, there's her correspondent, FPD (can't remember his full name right now) who comes off as English to the core - always polite, very friendly and helpful, but neat and reserved too (yes, we get all that from his letters :)) If it was fiction, it would be the most cliche'd fiction you could find, only redeemable by the couple getting together in the end, but of course :)

But it's not fiction.  FPD is married, and (sadly enough, spoiler alert) dies before Helen can get to England to meet him and his family.  And nothing much happens to Helen either in the twenty years they correspond (unless it does happen and she doesn't tell him of course :)) It seems like there are some letters left out, so there was definitely some effort and grouping the remaining ones into a narrative.  In the end, I suppose it's a pretty sad narrative, not much of a resolution beyond the publication of the letters - but it doesn't feel sad.  Helen and Frank seem to thoroughly enjoy each other, transatlantic though their relationship might be. And I enjoyed them too, I always enjoy people who love books :) Though wow, these books, I have never heard of *any* of them! Except Pride and Prejudice - yes, Helen loves P&P.  And now you know why I love the book :) Okay not really, but I always love it the way everyone loves Jane Austen - Stella Gibbons (Cold Comfort Farm) waxed enthusiastic at one point as well.  In any case, it's surprising how close you can feel to someone after reading their personal letters all about the books they love :) Or at least how much you can enjoy a light, fluffy, collection of them.

Verdict: 4/5

Comfortable, Elegant, and All That Is Good In Life

You know I like to start out with my recommendation source... I have to say, I finally have one I can't really easily identify :) Cold Comfort Farm has been on my list of "Books to Read" for years, under the category "English countryside types."  Now, I don't know why I originally put it on my list (Lauren Willig? :)) but Stella Gibbons is only English countryside in the most literal sense.  Recently, I read the Wikipedia summary of the book (or maybe it was just of the author) and discovered that, in fact, Cold Comfort Farm is a humorous take on English society books of the '30s.  So we're talking not only funny, which actually English countryside typically is, but completely filled with levity (I wanted to say levitous, but I just couldn't :)).  And better, we're talking high society, babe ;) not those boring working class stiffs tat typically inherit rural literature :)  Once I realized this, I put the book rather up on my todo list, and got on line at the library to wait my turn.

Cold Comfort was a surprise delight from the start.  The main character, Flora, is not only a perfectly lovely society girl of nineteen, pretty, popular, and educated (if not rich :)) she's adorable, smart, and utterly capable.  She reminds of what Emma thinks she is (a rather astute observation if I do say so myself :)) - she likes to organize everyone's lives, and she's actually good at it.  She's also totally irrepressible, writing to each of her relatives for an invitation to mooch off them until such time as she sees fit to move on (to get married, perhaps? :)) And she gets welcomes from each of them too.  But she chooses to go stay with her disturbingly strange cousins at Cold Comfort Farm, and proceeds to amuse herself with fixing up their wretched lives.

Now here's where the book could have gotten really boring, or worse, tense.  But instead, Flora remains totally in control of her absolutely bizarre relatives' various hang-ups and shenanigans.  And I'm telling you, they are bizarre.  But since the whole book is very clearly a joke, I could just relax and enjoy the joke of these larger-than-life, and for the most part, cruder than life, characters and their little neuroses.  Flora keeps everyone well in hand, and takes good care of disposing of every one to his or her greater happiness.  And she keeps herself pretty happy and very well liked while doing it.  At one point I noticed that not only were the characters simply out of this world outrageous, the setting, which takes place in the "near future" (which I interpreted to mean maybe within in a year of publication date 1932) actually takes place in some futuristic version of the 50's.  But it's funny, because far from greatly advanced, the book feels like a throwback to the last days of good English society - but why would I complain, that's exactly the society I like best :)

So Flora keeps herself, and us, entertained by meddling in all her silly cousins' lives, to their great benefit.  I'm sure you're asking by now, what about Flora? Well Flora's nice little love interest is introduced right at the beginning of the book.  There's not much suspense, since as far as I could tell, they liked each other immediately, and not much interaction, as Flora was far away in Susssex and only communicated with her Charles through letters we never see.  But you know she's going to be okay, not left alone at the end.  Since I didn't really expect the book to be a romance, I didn't mind the mostly lack of pathos threaded through Flora's own story.  But then, in the last chapter of the book, an extra bonus treat - she managed to finish up with a spectacular last chapter of a romance.  Despite my assumption that Flora's and Charles's romance was a foregone conclusion, there was apparently some suspense left between the two. And it made for some beautiful storytelling wrapping that suspense right up :) So not only thoroughly enjoyable, but a nice little tip at the end :)

Verdict: 4.5/5

A Book About Memory That Sticks In Your Head

Guess what? A totally new and different source of reading material! A few months ago, I decided to watch clips from the Colbert Report (I think someone I went out with mentioned the show so I got in the mood) and the interviewee was Joshua Foer, a journalist who won the US memory championships after a year of training.  Being a journalist, he wrote a chronicle of that year, and, for whatever reason, I decided it would be fun to read that chronicle.  The premise was that this was something that anyone could do, that the best memorizers in the world don't actually have special memories.  Of course, I am very interested in good memories, so I definitely wanted to hear about how good the best were :)  That being said, I was definitely somewhat hesitant about reading a first person account by some amateur...  But, you know, he was on the Colbert Report :) (not really, I've never read anything  I heard about on that show before).  And there were like 200 holds on it, so I figured it was probably decent.

So when I finally got ahold of it,  I read about the first 10 pages on the way to work.   Some lady on the subway saw it and ask me how I liked it, and I was totally positive - after 10 pages - of a non-fiction book! So definitely an easy start.  He writes really easily, very conversationally.  And he grabs you right away - certainly the journalist in him :) The beginning is kind of this grandiose intro to the whole idea of the sport of memory and the its methods, but Foer (I'm going to be very professional :)) knows that we find it skeptical.  Everytime I say, yeah but... but what's the point? but is that really what makes it work? he asks the same question.  Sometimes he doesn't really answer it, but it's nice to know he's listening :) I mean there are definitely times he waxes a little too rhapsodic on the subject, or tries to shoehorn the entire universe and a new philosophy in to what is pretty much a neat trick.  But in general, he keeps it pretty real.

So it probably would have been a decent read even if it was all about his year as a memory acolyte.  But most of the book consists of tangents about either the history of memory, known great minds, or (mostly) the psychology of memory.  The last of these is something I of course find intersesting, and something about which I know surprisingly little.  The only book I can think of that really discussed how memory worked in any detail was Godel Escher Bach, and that was written like 30 years ago! A lot of what Foer talked about was either new to me or only known in vague terms.  And more than interesting, I actually found it relevant.  It's almost funny how many times since I've read the book I've thought about the way I memorize things or the way my mind works or something else that puts me in mind of the book.  I've definitely referenced it at least twice in conversation.  Slightly embarassing, because I don't even know if you could call this book pop psychology, it's written by a *journalist* but well, it's not like psychology is really science anyway :) And he did do his research.  So we get light sprinkles of all the most engaging sciency stuff wrapped up in an easy-on-the-eyes first person narrative.  A lot of fun AND educational :)

Verdict: 4.5/5 (For what it is of course, not like I'm going to read this 30 times more)

So Much Potential...

There's a book I read sometime last year, can't remember exactly when, but it must have been before April since it's not in the blog :) Anyway, the book in question was Julia Stuart's The Matchmaker of Perigord, about a little provincial French town.  It was my kind of French town - kind of light and funny, irreverant - a fictional version of Peter Mayle's Provence books.  The book, since it was essentially a book about the town, was like that too, of course.  So anyway, comic travel book, about France no less.  Sounds good, so I read it.  And it was fine, pretty much what I expected, not at all a waste of time.  So when I saw Julia Stuart's new book, The Tower, the Zoo, and the Tortoise, on the shelves of the Mid-Manhattan library (yes, we're talking about that time back how many months ago when I went and browsed the shelves - up top for 10 times renewal :)) I didn't hesitate to take it out.  The first thing I noticed when I bothered to look at the jacket was that this book is not about France at all, but about the far more whimsical, and just as foreign in its own way, Tower of London.  Specifically, about the life of a Beefeater in the Tower of London.

Actually, I think this setting has a whole lot more promise than the French countryside.  My love for all things English remains intact and the Beefeater compound has a great mix of historic potential and absurd situational comedy (do I sound like I know what I'm talking about because I totally made that up).  It's definitely less educational, because less real, but oh so fun.  As for being real, I really should have read this with my computer (of course it got read on shabbos and the train so that didn't happen) because I just kept wondering what was real and what was totally fabricated.  Most of it was, I'm pretty sure - but even if only little bits were real, how cool to live in the Tower of London.  And not only that, but even more fun in a way, the Beefeater's wife work in the London Underground Lost Property Office.  Now I am *very sure* that her occupation is entirely made up, the lost property office is nothing but a repository of random junk, but whose dream isn't someone turning up all those years later with the long-lost old friend?  It's like a mystery with no tension :)  So all in all, there's a lot to be said in favor.

What's the catch? I'm not the only one who's tickled pink by this whole scenario.  And, not content to stop while she's ahead, the author can't go like two paragraphs without inserting a twee or profound yet sprightly tale of whimsy.  And mostly of them are completely gratuitous.  Totally unlikely stories about people we don't care about that are ridiculous rather than meaningful.  After a while, they really started annoying me.  Not only was the story not moving, but I felt like I was reacting exactly opposite the moving way I was supposed to.  About three-quarters of the way on, it starts moving a bit but unfortunately not to anywhere much.  The thread throughout the book is that they are torn about by the death of their son, which apparently the Beefeater thinks he caused.  At the end we find out why - and it wasn't even a decent reason! It's because - get this - he *yelled* at him the night before! I mean really? Why try for profound meaning when you have to use *the death of child* and *still* can't write something good and heartwringing?! So basically, even the cute part of the story was overdone to the point where I just wished it would all go away, and then, the story just disappointed in the end.  Oh well...

Verdict: 2.5/5

There is a Time and a Place, and This is Not It

Yet another selection drawn from suggestions on Austenprose - Major Pettigrew's Last Stand, by Helen Simonson.  This one, at least as far as I could tell, has nothing to do with Jane Austen.  It's just an old-time English manners and people getting married tale, at least of a sort - contemporary but almost feels like a throwback.  Anyway, it's apparently fairly popular, there were quite a number of holds ahead of me.  And it took me two times getting it out till I got up to it, not that that's an indication of anything more than that my reading list is severely backed up.  Anyway, I did finally get to it over the last days, and then neglected to review it till now (I guess it's less than a week, not really so bad).  I have to say, this has not been a riveting intro, and for that I am sorry.  Moving on...

The book jacket describes Major Pettigrew as this extraordinary and very lovable character.  I suppose he was lovable, but I tend to like most main characters in the books I read.  As for extraordinary? For the most part, he seemed the very prototype of an English gentleman.  Maybe extraordinary in the sense that I don't know how many proper English gentlemen there are left.  But, really, he could have walked out of the pages of Agatha Christie.  And while he was lovable, a lot of that was in contrast to the many rather loathsome members of the supporting cast.  But not loathsome in the sense that I joined him and the author in their righteous indignation.  More like loathsome in the sense that, okay, sure you made this character hateful so he's hateful.  My point is, you can't really get up on your high horse about proper behavior when the improper examples seem so manufactured.

But that's a minor point.  I think for me to judge this book, the most important thing is for me to know what I'm judging.  This task is not trivial, since I think the book itself wasn't quite sure.  Parts of it were quite light, ensuring me that I could take its ups and down with a grain of salt and just enjoy the character interaction.  But the more I read, the more I realized this book was meant, if not as a serious tome, than at least novel with serious themes.  So leaving aside that I have little interest in reading novels about religious prejudice in England, how was the book in this context? Meh... I mean Major Pettigrew's and Mrs. Ali's story was sweet, but I thought at times a little... forced I guess. Towards the end, there was a runaway escape from her domineering brother and then an attempted murder AND suicide.  It's like, wow, have I wandered into The Kite Runner? (Not that I've ever read that, but presumably that where such antics about oppressive Muslim culture belong).  Well I guess I'm not being fair - the point is, these things do exist even in England, which is sad, but which we all know.  And I don't think that a book about an English gentleman is the place where you expect to encounter these cases.

And what about the more traditional English themes of family and neighbors? Like I said, the Major's ungrateful and rather vulgar son Roger is certainly not a sympathetic character.  But he's also not a particularly realistic one.  How did two such wonderful people as the Major and his late wife end up with a son whose manners and whose character is, in a word, execrable? Umm, maybe because in fiction anything goes?  But it certainly doesn't wring my heartstrings any when I see no connection to something that I can ever see happening - imo, kids are mostly like their parents.  And if the parents see no need to teach their children the right way to behave, then they aren't very good people themselves.  The neighbors too, while mostly insensitive and often rude, seem like they would be the exception in the normal English country village, not the rule.

Themes of diversity and racism can always strike a nerve, especially as I know there is plenty of anti-Semitism alive and well in English country villages.  But I just felt like I got ripped off with this book - I mean it was reviewed on Austenprose! And while the Major and Mrs. Ali's romance was the thread that kept the book going, in the end, it seemed almost secondary to its racially and ethnically charged backdrop.   Important as these issues may be, no one thinks they're any fun.

Verdict: 2.5/5

How Mattering More Than What

Okay, on for review of the first days' real reading material - Lisa Lutz's latest, a non-Spellman files joint effort at a comic mystery.  It's amazing that I've been writing this blog so long that I'm getting up to authors' second new books since I started... but in this case, that's only because I posted about the book a while after I read it, so I don't know if it's time to start waxing nostalgic :) Anyway, I think we were all ready for the Spellman Files to end even before the last one, so we were certainly happy that this latest is entirely independent of Izzie and her gang (though there's Spellman #5 out next year, which I shall certainly be reading, don't get me wrong :)) But other than being non-Spellman, I don't know that there was much to recommend this project.  It was an innovative idea, (or not hugely overdone anyway): Lisa Lutz and an ex-bf writer friend of hers would write alternate chapters, not discussing the plot beforehand.  Let the story unfold how it would, with the only guidance that it be a whodunit, with some resolution at the end.  I don't have any objections to the idea, but the descriptions made the book sound... well kind of horror-meets-kitsch, which just wasn't something that appealed to me all that much.  And it's not like I adore Lisa Lutz all that much... I mostly read her books for the romance, though the comedy is none too bad, of course.

But of course, it wasn't like I wasn't going to read it... because, of course, I don't exactly have to expend much to put it on reserve at the library.  And in this case, because my wonderful cousin Sarah Sp (see you really should read my blog ;)) is boycotting LL over her last book, the library was kind of my only avenue - which was just fine, because I put it on reserve months ago and got it immediately upon publication.  ANYWAY... I'm sure you want to hear about the book already.  The first thing I realized upon starting (just the intro, not even the book) was that the format was a big part, if not the whole point, of the book.  Every other chapter belongs to either Dave or Lisa and in between, we get notes discussing the previous chapter between the two authors.  So besides the unfolding mystery for Paul and Lacey, we get the story of how this book got written.  Or not exactly that, more like a running commentary on all that was lacking in the previous chapter.  And there are plenty of within-the-text jibes back and forth too.  So that the characters sometimes voice concerns about the narrative or make a slightly out of place comment, clearly the message of the current writer to his/her counterpart.  Whatever, the point is, it's funny.  And we never forget just what is really going on in the book.

The mystery itself... well don't take it too seriously, that's for sure.  First of all, my assumption is that most mystery writers have a pretty good idea of unfolding events from the beginning.  I would think it's fairly difficult to produce a well-crafted whodunit, one with a really satisfying ending, without knowing where every lead is headed.  But in this case, not only did the format make advance planning impossible, the authors didn't even try, forgoing narrative integrity for the chance to get the book at on Lisa/Dave's chosen track.  But it doesn't really matter, it's not like this book was meant as a serious mystery novel anyway.  And the back-and-forth, no-respect-for-reality bonanza of dead bodies and petty criminals makes that very clear.  It also makes the book funny, at least in its own way.  And I'll take funny over a good mystery any day.

I don't know why I'm giving this book such serious attention.  It's really very simple. The book itself is okay funny when it's read as a farce, which I think is definitely as intended (I don't even think it's in the mystery section of the library). The far more compelling narrative is that between the two authors, as played out somewhat in their notes, and more within the main chapters.  I'm pretty sure their petty jibes and textual battles are at least somewhat fictionalized, but I'm okay with that.  They're still funny.  Bottom line, I think Lisa Lutz sees herself more as a comic than as anything else, and I don't think anything in this book proves her wrong.

Verdict: 3.5/5

Post for Completeness' Sake

In the category of so junky I'm not really going to review it, we have Julia Quinn's latest, a combined effort with two other authors who don't normally make my reading list, but who share JQ's regency romance genre.  So yeah, it was regency romance.  Three novellas (if they can be dignified as such) within a story... JQ's was I think the best... they were all pretty much as expected, but not like I regret reading it or anything :) trash is trash, but whatever, it can have its moments :)

Journey Once More to Far Off and Fairytale Lands

Just in time for my one year anniversary, I've got yet another AMS to review.  I think I've done one from each of his series already (No. 1 Ladies, Corduroy Mansions, 44 Scotland Street, Isabel Dalhousie, and also one independent), and since it's been a year, he's back with another No. 1 Ladies.   This was comes with some additional excitement for me, since I just went with Aunt Sarah and the lovely Sp girls (all except Ah!) to see the author in person.  It was an NPR-sponsored event, so not free of, what was to me, intrusive liberalism, but the man himself was delightful, just delightful.  He was polite, well spoken, quite amusing... I must say, more likeable than some of his characters :)

Anyway, I wouldn't say more likely then Mma Ramotswe., though.  She's quite a lady, that one.  I think I mentioned that I thought she seemed a little full of herself in the last book (only at times, of course)  but I really didn't get that feeling at all this time.  I don't know if it was my positive association with the author, if it was genuinely better than the last one, or if I was just in the mood for some light fiction after the fairly heavy fare of this past month :).   I can ask the Sp.s was their take is, as they are coming for Pesach (I'm journeying home on the Megabus right now myself).  But whatever the reason, I found The Saturday Big Tent Wedding to be as thoroughly enjoyable as any of the series.  Mma Ramotswe was wise, very wise; her talents in negotiating all matters of the social and emotional labyrinths were in demand and well showcased I thought.  Sometimes, I agreed with hers decisions, others I sat back and admired her ingenuity.  Of course, it's fiction, but I can still recognize a good woman when I see one :)

So Mma Ramotswe shines as always.  Mma Makutsi was her usual self as well, not as admirable, but not unlikeable all the same.  All was well with these two characters, though there were some pretty serious matters brought up in the course of the book, one in particular, I felt quite serious (involving Charlie).  But they were resolved without pain, and fairly quickly, by Mma Ramotswe (so funny how i never knew how to pronounce that before now :)) - quickly because the book was fairly short, not something I often complain about :) (especially when there's little plot to compel drawing out the narrative, as is the case here as with all the No. 1 books).  And other than the small matters, what was there... I felt less philosophy than usual.  Much made of the differences between men and women, as usual, but I think I noticed it more because AMS pointed it out as an important theme in his books (he does write a lot from women's POV, and does a fair job of it I think - maybe because he himself appears to be a quite a refined  person).  A lot about Botswana, especially old Botswana.  I don't necessarily agree with all the gender discussion (I mean, I'm not a feminist, but I think I have more equality in my relationships with men than they do), but that's definitely colored by my position as a working woman in the US (and of course frum, where our women, contrary to some's belief, really do wear the pants - metaphorically, of course ;)) rather than one in the more "traditional" nation of Botswana.  AMS pokes fun at those of us who view Africa as a huge backward continent, but his books, show that, while they may have cars, and phones, and internet, in many ways they are, if not backward, quite different and closer to the old rural societies of a century ago.

At least that's what his books say, in their praise of traditional Botswana.  It is an admirable country, whether real or romanticized (it is of course, admittedly, at least somewhat romanticized).  But AMS does such good job, not only of potraying Mma Ramotswe's love for the ways of her country, but drawing us into its bucolic charms through every aspect of the novel - plot, characters, and especially the spartan yet smooth and gentle language.  It really is a cup of red bush tea :) (That is a consummate treat, simple to procure, wholesome, and delicious to the senses - at least if you ask Mma Ramotswe :))

Verdict: 4/5

The Man, Myth... Mr. Mark Twaaaain!!!

AAAAAAT LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAST mmm mm mmm mm mm mmm mmm…. (that's the Etta James's song, if you didn't catch the reference)… I'm sure you've all been wondering what's been going on.  I haven't posted since March, and in the process, have missed my one-year anniversary! (April 11).  I know the questions that were running through all of your heads… is Rochel abandoning us? Has she left the labor of love that is book review blogging behind as she heads off to brighter ventures? Was she - gasp - *kidnapped*?! Never fear, loyal followers.  I have merely been reading *the same book* for the past month.  It was a long book, in my defense, over 700 pages.  I only read around 250 of them, towards my condemnation though :)  My hunk of reading material these past weeks has been non other than the newly-published Volume I of… Mark Twain's autobiography.  He dictated that it not be published until 100 years after his death, which came by this past year.  I had to wait through around 300 people on the hold list before me, so when I got it, you better believe I was going to read it.

And I did.  I carried it back and forth for a month, reading it every day on the train.  (My Shabbosim happened to be busy for the past few weeks).  The funniest thing was what a conversation piece a 700 page tome by a famous author can be.  I must have talked to five different strangers about how much I was enjoying it (or not).  I gave them all the same answer - it's great.  Because it was pretty great.  The man is a master, we all know that.  He's one of the greatest humorists ever, and he pretty much invented the American personality.  Maybe a little brash, not as cultured as his European part, but we love him all the same, he's intelligent, he's moral, he's altogether superior.  Mark Twain's characters are like this, and the funny thing (or maybe it's not funny?) is that he is too.  I find myself agreeing with him much, though certainly not all, the time.  His political opinions, his values, he's just seems like he's on the right track.  But it's not like i'm evaluating him for a shidduch, I don't even know why I'm talking about this.

The point is, was the book good? So, first of all,  it wasn't unbelievably good or anything.  I mean, it was an autobiography, i.e. non-fiction (or ostensibly so :)) and therefore, mostly lacking in any driving plot.  And this one was even more lacking than most, since Twain's much trumpeted format is to talk about whatever he feels like at the moment (the book was dictated).  He makes much of this celebrated method, mentioning it at numerous times as the only way to write an autobiography.  And he's right, it keeps the book fresh and light.  And if I can't write a book report on "The Life of Mark Twain" now, I think I have a good idea of the man himself.  Maybe that's why I went off on the above tangent.  The book is really an illustration of his personality, not his biography at all.   

So we're taken on a tour of Mark Twain's philosophies, his memories, and his views on the matters of the day.  The philosophies are sometimes interesting, sometime not so much.  The matters of the day are at times laughingly archaic, at times eerily relevant.  And the memories… well the memories are sometimes tinged with sadness, something achingly poignant, sometimes light and amusing, but always evocative and always exquisitely related.  It's amazing how much we can care about people who died over a hundred years ago, when Mark Twain cares too.   He's definitely right about this format of autobiographing being compelling.  It doesn't move that fast, but it's rarely boring (other than the 10 or so page description of his houses in Florence, which I could have done without).  I definitely feel like I would have liked some more background.  Despite explicitly writing for the audience of 100 years in the future, Twain seems to assume we know as much about him as any of his most devoted contemporary readers.  I don't know about you, but that's certainly not true about me.  So it got a little annoying at times, but only a little.   There was repetition occasionally too, natural in a book that was dictated only by what was on his mind, but, again, only a little annoying. 

Overall, what can I say about this book? Well I'm definitely going to be reading the next few volumes, whenever they're released.  And I'm going to be re-reading his other books too.  Not like I wasn't a Twain fan before, but now, it's personal.

Verdict: 4/5

My Kind of Fantasy Land

So if you read the blog even more avidly than all those other people who read my blog, you may have noted my comments discussion with abg, advising her on good reading material for her vacation.  My strongest suggestion was to get in to Jasper Fforde; though it turns out abg was not enamored of his books, I feel like he's one of that elusive few, male authors whose books I like.  The reason, of course, is that his books are comedic.  Not strict comedy maybe, but definitely light-hearted.  They are also very clever fantasy - taking place in an alternative universe where the fictional characters we know and love are real.  Real and living in a world very similar to our own... except that instead of atoms, they have text. The idea isn't that radical.  But the execution is so good. I mean, yeah, I'm the girl whose favorite sporkle category is literature, so I'm predisposed to like it. But come on, metaphor as the elusive element? Gray's Anatomy the hospital? Footnotes as a communication device? It's just cute :)  Actually, abg agreed with me on this; she just thought that despite all this, the books were tense.  And they are tense - they have a bit of the thriller about them, as so many fantasy books do.  But I just don't think it takes it over or anything - or maybe the sheer absurdity of the villains and various hazards just distracts me from any sense of danger.  I think it's like Terry Pratchett in a way - go, British male writers of comedic fantasy! :)

Anyway, that's as far as the series goes (it's the Thursday Next series, by the way, he has some other books too).  I read them a few years ago, and the sixth one just came out.  So first of all, it's not exactly like I remembered everything from the previous books, which was annoying, but you know, you can mostly pick it up (if the author is at all decent anyway).   And with these books, there's so many little cute jokes I miss, it's not like I get everything anyway.  Like in this book, Thursday is bribed to advertise the Toast Marketing Board.   And only then did I realize that though there were constant references in it to previous books, it is never explained what it is - because she went back and added them gratuitously to the narrative! and cute again :)  The point is, even if you don't get everything, there's enough clever little references you will pick up to make yourself feel smart and get a real kick out of the books.  And with this book, it mattered even less than usual... because the book wasn't even about Thursday.

Okay, here's where it gets clever.  So in Fforde's universe, book characters are real.  Thursday Next has had books written about her (in the series, don't worry, it doesn't get that self-referential - at least not yet :)) so she has a fictional self.  So even though when we open up the book and the narrator is referred to (by others I mean, it's first person) as Thursday, it takes a while to figure out that this is not our Thursday.  But the cool thing is that we like her anyway, because she *is* Thursday.  Or if not exactly Thursday, close enough with her that we still feel like we know her.  Actually, I find entire concept pretty mind-blowing.  I mean our Thursday is fictional, this Thursday is fictional, I don't remember the books well enough to notice the personality differences, but still, he tells us this is the fictional Thursday, and all of the sudden I like her, but I feel *just a little* more distant.  Really makes you think about psychological effects and all that.  Oh and the best part of another Thursday was that she totally hero worships our Thursday and it was tons of fun to hear how everyone thinks she's awesome.

So the book was totally brilliant in that respect.  And it had all the hallmarks of a Thursday Next, where the BookWorld mirrors ours so novelly (cute pun, no? :)) and we get to meet all our favorite (and not favorite) larger than life characters.  It had the usual, I suppose tense and dangerous plot, which was as usual not too tense for me because it was just so overblown.  My only complaint was I did feel that some of the cute punny features of the Book World felt a little too pat.  Like, okay, take any vaguely literary detail and insert it in place of something non-literary - presto, the Book World equivalent.  It felt a little too mad-libby at times. But it was okay, it felt just right in others :) And Jasper Fforde shares with Terry Pratchett a predilection for making over science (physics and chemistry) to fit the fantasy world, which of course I like - it's funny how much I like science,  I should really read it more :)  Anyway, that was really my only complaint... so no surprise -
Verdict: 4.5/5

Y'all Just Ain't That Charmin'

Full disclosure on this one, I kind of cheated.  My books were due on Thursday, and this one had holds on it so I couldn't renew it.  Now it wasn't like I was dead-set keen on reading this book - I just grabbed it off the shelf when I went browsing for the first time in a while - but, you know, once I get something out, I like to give it a whirl.  So  I was debating if I should return it and forget about it, return it and put it on hold, or keep it out a day extra and finish it.  I went to amazon.com, read the reviews, and decided to keep it and finish it, wasting $.25 but okay.  But of course, then I had already read the reviews, and if you think I'm above being biased by someone else's opinion... well, you're wrong, that's all :)

But let's pretend I just read the book without hearing any outside opinion first... I'm pretty sure it would have been much the same anyway.  The book in question is Saving Cee-Cee Honeycutt, but Beth Hoffman.  It's pretty and floral, all pink, purple and green.  And that's not just the cover.  Cee-Cee Honeycutt is a twelve-year-old girl whose mother is severely mentally ill. So not exactly a happy childhood.  But then her mother dies, and Cee-Cee goes south to live with her great-aunt Tootie in Savannah Geo-gah.  The rest of the book... well I suppose it's about saving, as the title suggests, but it mostly seems like a celebration of Southern cliches to me.  I'm not one to care much about plot, but I must say I was impressed by the complete lack of one here.  The book jumps from incident to anecdote, each one charming, amusing, or poignant in its own way (or some combination of the three of course).  It's pretty amazing actually - just when you think there's going to be some follow through, the previous chapter's storyline gets resolved and we get treated to something new.

I'm sure you asking, but would you complain about that? It's not like I've ever complained about light and easy stories, and I did describe this one as charming and amusing.  Well, first of all, that charming and amusing was more a description of the what the book (or the author) thinks of itself, not necessarily how I feel.  But, it's true, at times, even most of the time, there was a lot to enjoy in this not very deep novel.  So why are you detecting a slightly sardonic note in my faint praise? Because even though I'm just fine with a book that wants to do nothing but amuse and entertain, I think this book aspires to more than that.  This is a book that wants to do two things - examine the healing process of a child coming from a broken home and celebrate the bright and bountiful world that was the old South.  As far as the latter goes, I don't believe a word of it - the South wasn't this kind and gentlemanly paradise, where (almost) all the women are good and loving.  And I'm not even talking about the ugly racial and economic divides.  Even within the privileged upper class that Tootie rules, it wasn't all coming up roses all the time.  And while I don't mind being fed a little feel-good myth once in a while (not at all actually), this was more like a binge-worthy onslaught of fluffy fairy tales.

But at least as far as the South goes, the book does a good enough job of potraying it as intended.  My far greater objection was to the more serious lost childhood storyline.  First of all, I'm not going to disagree that a girl who grew up with a mother who seemed to be severely bipolar, and certainly very mentally unwell, is in need of a lot of help and loving.  But Cee-Cee, who tells the story first person, does not exhibit very much damage at all.  She's kind of quiet and in amazement about all the good bestowed her, but the most of the hints that all is not well come from overheard conversations between Tootie and her cook, Oletta.  I don't get very worried about Cee-Cee, and my heart therefore just can't get that warmed at her eventual blossoming.  And I just can't get into all the pseudo-significant events along the way either.  There's a death, a racial episode, an endangered hummingbird... each one treating with all due pathos in its turn, and all undue pathos too.  I can't count the number of times where *something* happened.  It was then that... it was that... that was the... let me tell you something, girl, if everything that happens is a revelation, ain't nothin' much left covered.  Basically, I couldn't go far just enjoying the story before some annoyingly maudlin or tremblingly stupendous *moment* interrupted.  With all that, I did manage to finish it pretty fast, so it wasn't all that hard to get through... I guess

Verdict: 2.5/5

A Set of Fangs Doesn't Have to Hurt

If you're a frequent reader, you no doubt have noticed that there is a proliferation of Austenalia out there in bookland.   You are of course not the only one who's noticed - Michael Thomas Ford, for one, came up with the bright idea of an Austen-vampire mashup... obvious, in a way, given that other ubiquitous (okay, far more ubiquitous :)) creature du jour.  Actually, sad as it is, he is not the only one to come up with this - I say sad, because while Ford's novel is completely tongue-in-cheek, and quite funnily so, Mr Darcy, Vampyre and Vampire Darcy's Desire (I think those are the two titles I know) capitalize on the dual trends with an absolute straight face.  Because Darcy is just so much better with fangs.  Anyway, in this case the pairing was made only for for the sake of humor.

Jane Goes Batty (currently under review) is actually the second book in the series.  I read the first last year, I think off a recommendation on Austenblog, because I wasn't reading Austenprose at the time (and Austenblog still had regular posts :( ).  I was slightly hesitant (for obvious reasons, and also because, as always male authors are a warning sign) but I thoroughly enjoyed Jane Bites Back.  It could have gone either way, since a lot of the potential in the situation of Jane as a vampire is that Jane is alive today.  And Jane being alive today means Jane can see what we've done with her books... everything we've done.  So, very realistically, Jane is not altogether enthusiastic about her fandom, at least elements of it.  But there's a fine line to tread here, since what is Michael Thomas Ford, but another lowly plebian trying to ride the Austen popularity wave? In any case, he does manage to tread the line pretty well.  I'm not saying his Jane isn't a little too vulnerable at times and a little too snarky at others, but she's believable.  I think if Jane Austen was a vampire who couldn't reveal her true identity she might well struggle with the lack of appreciation shown her and the sometimes misplaced homage to her works.  I don't think she would suffer from writer's block or have trouble getting her novels published, but okay, it's permissible.

Most importantly, you don't have to take anything these books say seriously, because they don't take anything seriously at all.  The writing is... well if not juvenile, simplistic enough to be understood by the masses so even the most dramatic moments have a kind of drab ordinariness about them.  And right when things start gettings tense, everything just kind of resolves itself without too much effort.  It's great, at least for the book's purposes.  No matter what kind of ridiculous antics everyone is getting up, you can take it because it's all in good fun.  And I think there's definitely room for fun here - I mean yes, I read Twilight and yes, I read Mr. Darcy's Diary et al. - but I know they're kind of silly :)  And Michael Thomas Ford does a good job with pointing that out using just the right kind of gentle jibing.

Besides all this, it's fun to read about Lord Byron, and Charlotte Bronte, and Jane Austen.... like my version of a tall tale :) And the story itself ain't bad either - quite a decent romance going on, if you were wondering (not a real romance of course, the author is a man).  But in any case..
Verdict: 3.5/5

And I totally forgot...
100 POSTS!!!! Yay!! :)

Ms Austen She Is Not

Continuing with my usual practice of picking up books recommended on Austenprose, I took The Three Weissmans of Westport out from the library when I came across it on the shelf.  I heard about it as a modern retelling of S&S - *not* chic lit - that got rave reviews, and did not bother to reserve it based on the dual signals of S&S and *not* chic lit, but when I saw it, I was like, well why not, rave reviews, huh? So out it came, and it was actually the first of all the (okay, not all that exciting) titles into which I ventured, due to its status as the only book with a hold on it (since, filled I think).  But before I even started it, Chava tried it, and informed me that she found it fairly unfun to read.  Now that was not a good sign, because to Chava, *not* chic lit doesn't spell doom in the same way it does to me.

Anyway, once I started, I was surprised by Chava's opinion.  Being an S&S retelling about two Jewish girls, there was a lot about it that reminded me of Allegra Goodman's The Cookbook Collector.  That title was not a real retelling, just one that purported to be in the spirit of S&S.  It did have two sisters, one the practical one, one the dreamer, so I suppose that classification is not unwarranted.  Anyway, Chava loves Allegra Goodman, while I am not as much as a fan (if you want to know why read this).  So this book was about secular Jews, but still very Jewish Jews, and it was pretty much for women by women about women kind of fare, so I definitely felt the similarity.  But, at least initially, I found T3W (like that? :)) to be much lighter, much less literary and therefore much more fun.  Like, if not chic lit, then at least nothing with any pretensions beyond a desire to entertain.

That was in the beginning.  But as the S&S plot dictates, the story got more serious.   And as the plot thickened, the characters... whined.  I mean, I don't like Marianne even in the original.  But Eleanor's all right, and I have nothing against Mrs. Dashwood.  But here it was like, I don't know why anyone finds Miranda endearing, she is, as she styles herself, a nightmare.  And as for Annie, it's not like you have to be pathetic, secretly sorry for yourself, and kind of dull just because you're more practical than your sister is.  So, as S&S isn't exactly laugh-a-minute fun anyway, here we have a tense story with annoying people taking center stage.  And as for light... not a whole lot of fluffiness, and very little dark humor to lighten the mood either.  Meanwhile, the book got more and more, I don't know if you want to call if more philosophical, more pretentious, but more happy to make blanket statements about life and whatnot.  The one I was really unimpressed by was on page 118 - I remembered the page so I could refer to it later... but I now don't feel like getting the book out of my bag to cite it, so I guess you'll just have to go look it up yourself to satisfy your curiosity :) But anyway, the point was, instead of being a more light and funny take, it was this heavy handed adaption... with not much point, because it's not like any of the Weissmans are realistic and relatable or like their story is a common tale.

At one point, I was thinking, maybe it's my fault for getting this out - after all, S&S is my least favorite Jane Austen.  I haven't read it in a while, and my presumption has always been that I would develop more toleration for it rather than less, since that's been the general trend for me for a while.  But here's the thing - S&S was enjoyable reading even when I read it last in 12th grade - I just hated the ending.  The two romances are neither of them at all decent by my standards.  Eleanor and Edward know they love each other from the beginning, their obstacles are no source of decent angst, just annoying.  And as for Marianne... she doesn't even love Colonel Brandon at the end, and who cares about her anyway, she's an idiot.  But like I said, Jane Austen is Herself, and she keeps it light.  Not here.  It's almost blasphemous the way these whiny authors think they are carrying on the comic tradition on Jane Austen.  Or maybe they don't think so, they just like recycling her plots.  If that's the case, I have plenty of sympathy. Nothing I like more than a good modern retelling of P&P. But when they choose S&S, I suppose I have to be on my guard, at best...   I mean, it's simply not a plot I love (which won't stop me from watching From Prada to Nada, of course :)).  But here's the kicker - after a whole book of tense whining and depressed moments, we are finally supposed to end up with Eleanor and Edward, and Marianne and Colonel Brandon, right? Wrong, apparently.  She goes ahead and changes the ending! Why? I don't know, I don't think it really adds much thematic value.  Maybe she thinks her way is more realistic? I think it's mostly just for shock value.  But unfortunately, since I had pretty much lost interest in the book by that time,  I don't know if I cared enough to be really shocked.  More like disappointed.  Is nothing sacred? Okay, that was facetious, but seriously, this book was no good enough to merit its own ending.  And I am therefore demoting it from 2 to a

Verdict: 1.5/5

Sidenote: I looked back at the review on Austenprose, and it turns out she was not one of the rave reviewers - she thought pretty much the same thing I did, and she gave it 3/5, which is quite low for her. I really should read those reviews a little more carefully :)

A Series Settling in to its Genre

Well it took me long enough, and it's not even original... Before I had even finished Flavia, part II (a.k.a the purple book) Sarah Sp. told me she had purchased part III.  Whatever reservations I had about The Weed that Strings the Handman's Bag (oh, that was the title :)) I certainly enjoyed it enough to read the next one, so I put it on the top of my list.  I then proceeded to take a week and a half to finish, but to be fair, that was without reading at all on Shabbos (busy with Peryl's sheva brachos).

It was much the same as the other ones, an English countryside mystery, mostly driven by Flavia's energy and imperturbability (I must admit I thesaurused that from unflappability, which I think I used already, but it was at the tip of my tongue).  It also continued the pattern (is it a pattern after two times?) of becoming more of a mystery and less of a genre bend than its predecessor.  Well you know that didn't particularly warm it to my heart.  And the mystery itself, while full of promising elements (Gypsies, forgery, old secrets, religious fanaticism) didn't *quite* deliver... some of those plot twists could fallen by the wayside without changing the outcome much.  But okay, like I care about the crafting of the mystery... it's much more important to me that the sleuthing be ever-intriguing... and I suppose every outlandish extra helps.  So I'm not really complaining about that, just commenting.

If I am complaining about anything, it's of course about the non-mystery segment of the novel.  I keep on waiting for Flavia's family life to change, for her to have some epiphany, for her sisters to suddenly grow up, for her father to thaw out... but thus far, not much.  On the father front, there were some tender moments (points) but I am increasingly mystified by Feely and Daffy.  One presumes they are not meant to be monsters but the way they torture Flavia does not strike me as the normal playful teasing of sisters.  It's so incongruous with the dignified tone of the book it almost makes me wonder if Alan Bradley has some hangup about it.  In the first book, Flavia gave as good as she got, which freaked me out a little too... but I feel like it just keeps getting worse, not better, with every book.  And I'm definitely starting to get tired of it. But I hold out hope and wait, hoping that every book will bring about that much needed revolution (preferably with Harriet (Flavia's mother) coming back from the dead - you heard it here first :))

So with all that, Flavia is still a lot of fun to hang out with.  She's smart and capable, indefatigable and ever resourceful.  And excellent sleuth and one whose little idiosyncrasies are easily excused by her tender years.  And though the mystery isn't my prime motivation for reading this book, the author manages to keep it interesting.  And those little scraps of humanity and progress I perceive every now and then from Flavia and her relations are better than nothing.  It wasn't bad, it wasn't bad at all.  And I'm looking forward to number four.

Verdict: 3/5