I’m going to take a break from blogging and visiting blogs for the next week or so.  My husband’s parents are staying with us.  I’ll still be reading; and I know I will have some good books to talk about when I get back to the blog!  Be sure to let me know what you’ve been reading lately!

By the way, am I the only one who thinks that these outlets look like they have an “oh noooo” expression?!

We haven’t been at the pool all week (except for a short time Sunday, when the rain sent us home), because my daughter has dance in the mornings; and by the time she’s home, we’ve been plagued by afternoon thunderstorms.   Right now, as I write this, it is pouring by the bucketfuls.  My kids are not too happy about our July weather; and even less happy by the fact that back-to-school is right around the corner (three weeks from today!) — meaning the amount of pool time for them is ever-shrinking. 

So, my last poolside read — finished this Sunday – was what?  “War Dances”, by Sherman Alexie.  A short story collection with poems sprinkled in between, this was a good poolside read without being brain mush.    At 209 pages, and with the way the book was structured, this was a very quick read, as well.

This is not my first experience with Sherman Alexie; see last September post discussing three of his books “Reading Sherman Alexie“.     “War Dances”, is Mr. Alexie’s most recent — having been published fall 2009 (Grove/Atlantic).  Although I believe that the paperback edition is officially out now, I’ve  had a trade paperback copy for a while – ordered from QPB.com.  I’ve been a long-time (since college!) member of QPB — how many of you know of QPB (Quality Paperback Bookclub)?

Anyway, back to “War Dances”.  There are only six short stories in this collection; and as I mentioned, also some poetry.  But also in between these two forms are several passages written in Question and Answer format.  I think Mr. Alexie is being experimental here in how this volume is put together.  But, by “experimental”, I don’t mean that this leaves the reader scratching his or her head wondering, what the heck did he mean here?  After all, I consider him to be a fairly straightforward writer. 

Here is how I would briefly describe each short story:

“Breaking and Entering” is about a Native-American who is a free-lance film editor that does his work at his home.  One day, his home is broken in by a young African-American man.  The film editor acts in self-defense.  The rest of the story deals with the aftermath and publicity, and looks at how minorities are often seen and portrayedin the media and real life.

“War Dances” is structured a little differently than a traditional short story; with some parallelism in there — but the basic premise is a man whose alcoholic and diabetic father is in the hospital nearing the end of his life.  The son notices that the hospital blankets are ridiculously thin and unable to keep his father warm, so the son goes out in search for other Native American patients, figuring that their family members might have heavy, warm Native-American blankets.  There is more to the story than this, but that incident really stood out for me. 

“The Senator’s Son” does not have a Native-American focus. It’s about a young man whose dad is a conservative politician.  In this story, the young man relates how he loses the friendship of his best friend, Jeremy.  When they are 16, Jeremy confesses that he  is gay.  This story is somewhat sad.

“The Ballad of Paul Nonetheless” is about a man who loses his desire for his gorgeous wife (after she has had children).  He flirts with women (and does more than that, too).  He meets a woman with red Puma shoes — hence the illustration on book’s cover — and flirts with her.  The repartee between them is amusing at times, although I didn’t  like Paul.

“Fearful Symmetry” shows how a screenwriter sees his project being destroyed and dumbed-down by an arrogant film producer.  The title of this short story is based on the screenplay which itself is based on a book about Native American smoke-jumpers.  “Fearful Symmetry” borrows its’ title from stanzas of a poem by William Blake (Tyger! Tyger! burning bright…).

The last story, “Salt”, is about a summer intern at a newspaper who ends up being requested to write the obituary for the obituaries editor.  He also gets a strange phone call from someone who wants to write an obituary for her dead husband — this is somewhat a bittersweet story.

Although I liked the book “War Dances”, I think if I were to recommend one Sherman Alexie book to start with; from what I’ve read so far of him — it would be the YA title, “The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian”.

Have you read Sherman Alexie yet?

Now, I need to decide on my next poolside book (although I’m not sure when we’ll go again, because of this weather, and also having company arriving next week).  Would you like to help me decide?  I’m currently reading “Mudbound” by Hillary Jordan and “Beirut 39″,  a collection of translated Arabic writings edited by Samuel Shimon; but neither are really pool-side reads.

Here’s what I’m thinking of (I admit I narrowed them down to font appearance — some others seemed interesting, but not good for reading in the sun, even with sunglasses).  These are all novels:

• “On Beauty”, by Zadie Smith.  It’s described on the back cover as a “brilliant, hilarious send-up of the culture wars that define our age”.  There doesn’t seem to be very many chapter breaks, though.

 

• “The Fiction Class”, by Susan Breen.  About an author who teaches a fiction class, but her difficult mother decides to join the class.

 

• “The Pilot’s Wife” by Anita Shreve.  Picked up as an used book from the library sale shelf, this one is about a pilot widow who finds out her late husband had a secret life.

 

• “My Cousin Rachel”, by Daphne du Maurier.  I also have “Rebecca”, which I probably should read first, but “Rebecca” is a mass market paperback, too small for reading by the pool.

What do you think?

Disclosure:  As mentioned, “War Dances” was purchased from QPB.

This is my first time participating in a Spotlight Series blog tour, and I hope not my last!  What is the Spotlight Series?  It takes the form of blog tours, focusing on small press publishers, their authors, and their books.  The current tour, running from July 18-31, is all about Graywolf Press.  Graywolf Press publishes a wide range of books, from translations to literary criticism to poetry.

Although I already have at least one book (“The Looking House” , poetry by Fred Marchant) published by Graywolf Press, I chose to read and discuss “Burning Down the House” by Charles Baxter. 

 I’m a fan of the books and short stories of Charles Baxter (that I have read so far), but especially “The Feast of Love”.  When I first read “The Feast of Love” which takes place in Ann Arbor, I was also living in Ann Arbor at the time, and so was Charles Baxter.  Then, he was a professor at University of Michigan along with being a writer.  Now he is teaching at the University of Minnesota.  “Burning Down the House” seems to be a product of his professorial requirements.  Neither a novel or short story collection, and subtitled “Essays on Fiction”, it is described on the back cover as “a groundbreaking collection of essays on the craft of writing and the writer’s life“, and “has been enjoyed by readers and taught in classrooms for more than a decade“.  Taught in classrooms?  That explains the frequent textbook-like tone of this book. 

Not having a college literature background (I majored in science instead, unfortunately), I sometimes felt lost during reading these essays — mostly when Mr. Baxter was referring to works of literature (and this was often, I’m afraid) that I have never read.  I still found some thought-provoking  moments.  Some other parts, though, I want to go back to again to absorb a bit deeper in my mind (especially since I had to speed-read the last couple essays; not realizing my post was to go up today rather than a couple days from now).

“Burning Down the House” isn’t really about the “nuts and bolts” of writing, but aims to analyze the various flaws found in contemporary fiction.  The essays include titles such as:

• Dysfunctional Narratives, or: “Mistakes Were Made”
• Against Epiphanies
• Counterpointed Characterizations
• Maps and Legends of Hell: Notes on Melodrama

There were a few quotable gems from this book.  I’m not sure that I can get away with quoting very many of them, so I’ll just include a couple.

From the essay, “Rhyming Action” — which I liked, because Baxter displays more humor in this essay than the rest:

“Contemplating the lives of poets, however, is a sobering activity.  It often seems as if the poets have extracted pity and terror from their work so that they could have a closer firsthand experience of these emotions in their own lives.  A poet’s life is rarely one that you would wish upon your children.  It’s not so much that poets are unable to meet various payrolls; it’s more often the case that they’ve never heard of a payroll.”

But, then, Baxter says in the same essay:

“Prose writers, however, are no better.  Their souls are usually heavy and managerial.  Prose writer of fiction are by nature a sullen bunch.  The strain of inventing one plausible event after another in a coherent narrative chain tends to show in their faces”.

From “Regarding Happiness”, which examines why so much of fiction has unhappiness running through:

“Anyone who has taught literature probably has had….the students in class complain that the texts they have been assigned to study are “depressing.”  The stories are “morbid.”  Their endings are “sad.”  Sometimes the students become more aggressive in the pursuit of good cheer. “Why”, they ask, “can’t we read some novels and stories about happiness?”

Baxter says that “We all understand intuitively that reading about the happiness of others is often boring.”   He also quotes Oscar Levant, who once said, “Happiness isn’t something you experience; it’s something you remember”.

So, it gets me thinking about what great books have been solely about happiness and/or have happy endings.  I can’t think of any off-hand.  I’m sure there are lots of  happy novels, but to me, they are mostly forgettable.  Do you agree?

“Burning Down the House” is a good and thought-provoking collection of essays.  But at the same time, to be fully appreciated,  it requires from the reader more of a literature background than I have.  Still, I think I got enough from this book to think a bit more critically about why certain books might not work for me, and why some books more satisfying than others. 

My version of  ”Burning Down the House” is an Expanded Edition (2008; 233 pages), with a new prologue and two extra essays than the original edition published in 1997.  You may want to keep this in mind if you want to acquire a copy of your own.  To read an excerpt from this book, here is Charles Baxter’s preface at the Graywolf Press site.

Interested in visiting other Spotlight Series tour stops about Graywolf Press books?  Good!  Here is the link that will take you to all the tour stops.

Disclosure: “Burning Down the House” by Charles Baxter was purchased by me.

I wish I was a member of an “IRL” (In Real Life) book club.  If I lived in, or near, a major metropolitan area that also has a large deaf population (such as Washington, D.C., home of Gallaudet University), chances are pretty good I would be able to find, or form, a book club that I could participate in.  And, I know I certainly would like my book club to serve good food and drinks !  The next best thing, I suppose, to being part of an IRL book club would be to have “The Book Club Cookbook: Recipes and Food for Thought From Your Book Club’s Favorite Books and Authors”, by Judy Gelman and Vicki Levy Krupp. 

Published in 2004 by Tarcher/Penguin, I first discovered this cookbook from our local library.  There was so much that I liked about this cookbook that I soon after bought my own copy.  Then we moved twice.  To Pennsylvania in 2006, and then to Colorado in 2008.  Therefore, after only actually making one recipe from this cookbook (before our moves), it languished –but it shared the same fate with most of my other cookbooks.  This weekend, I got re-acquainted with “The Book Club Cookbook”.

First of all, this book is a wealth of resources for books to read — either on your own or as part of a book club.   This is a book about books; not just a cookbook.  At over 500 pages long, there is a diverse selection of about 100 books (and more that are mentioned in passing). Many are books I’ve either actually read, or are currently in my To Be Read Pile, or (especially since re-reading the cookbook) in my to-add-to-the-TBR list.  Both fiction and non-fiction books are represented.  Some classics are here: for “Anna Karenina”, there is Wild Mushrooms on Toast.  Older books, such as “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn” (Charlotte Russe) , are here.  Many multi-cultural books are included, such as Rohinton Mistry’s “A Fine Balance” (chicken biryani); or Naguib Mahfouz’s “Palace Walk” (Mrs. Mahfouz’s Mulukhiya (Green Soup) ).

Recipes are either submitted by the various book clubs covered in this book, or by the authors themselves (for example, Jhumpa Lahiri provided an recipe for “Mrs. Lahiri’s Hard-Boiled-Egg Curry in Mustard Sauce”).  There are also food-related essays written by select authors especially for this cookbook.  Recipes range from appetizers to main dishes to drinks (both alcoholic and non-alcoholic) to desserts.

So, what recipes have I actually tried so far?  Back when I first got this cookbook, I made (and have made again and again),  Pumpkin Biscuits.  This recipe is paired with “Seabiscuit: An American Legend” by Laura Hillenbrand; one of my all-time favorites for non-fiction.  The book group featured in the cookbook that discussed “Seabiscuit” chose this recipe for their book discussion, because Seabiscuit had a cow pony stable-mate that helped keep him calm.   His friend’s name was Pumpkin. 

This weekend, I wanted to try a recipe that would be perfect for summer-time, and avoid having to use the oven.  This recipe is based on a dessert that William Clark had of cherries, plums, raspberries, currants, and grapes.  He enjoyed this dessert on his 34th birthday on August 1, 1804, and Meriwether Lewis recorded in his journal that he ordered this dessert made for his friend– along with a meal of venison, elk, and beavertail.  This source is from the book “Undaunted Courage: Meriwether Lewis, Thomas Jefferson, and the Opening of the American West”, by Stephen Ambrose.

Here is a picture of “Macedoine of Red Fruits”. 

I modified it somewhat – not being able to find satisfactorily fresh raspberries, I substituted strawberries.  The idea is that all the fruits are red, but the plums I bought weren’t all that red inside.  I’d say the amount of each fruit is a guideline.  This fruit salad was very good, and my kids enjoyed it.  I’d like to get a cherry pitter before next time!

Macedoine of Red Fruits

1 1/2 cup pitted, sliced red plums

1 1/2 cups seedless red grapes, halved

3/4 cup pitted cherries or 1/2 cup currants

1 1/2 cup fresh raspberries

1 tablespoon sugar

1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon (I left this out, since my daughter doesn’t like cinnamon)

2 tablespoons good quality balsamic vinegar

Sweetened Sour Cream or Sweetened Whipped Cream (recipes follow after the directions; I used the whipped cream recipe)

1. Place the plums, grapes, cherries or currants, and raspberries in a serving bowl.

2. Combine the sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle over the fruit mixture.  Drizzle with the vinegar.

3.  Mix gently and let stand for 20 minutes.  Serve with Sweetened Sour Cream or Sweetened Whipped Cream.

Yield: 8 to 10 servings (I used less fruit over all, so my serving size was less)

Sweetened Sour Cream

4 Tablespoons light brown sugar

2 cups sour cream

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Stir together the sugar and sour cream until the sugar is dissolved, then add vanilla.

Sweetened Whipped Cream

1 cup heavy cream

2 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

NOTE: For best results, chill a medium size metal bowl and beaters from electric mixer for at least one hour before using (I didn’t do this, and it turned out allright).

With mixer, beat together cream, sugar, and vanilla in bowl until stiff peaks form.  Do not overbeat.  Serve immediately.

I enjoyed also the passages in this book about various featured book clubs across the country — what they read and discussed (and the food they’ve shared), and how different they all are.  There are all-male book clubs, African-American book clubs, book clubs that focus on only one type of book (i.e. South Asian books).  I lived voraciously vicariously through these book clubs in this book!

There is a list of resources in the back of the cookbook for finding certain ingredients (such as Lyle’s Golden Syrup for ANZAC cookies, based on “The Road from Coorain” by Jill Ker Conway).  International readers interested in this cookbook will have to figure out metric measurements themselves — there are no charts or equivalents included.  Additionally, there are no photographs — not a detriment for me; especially since this cookbook is already good-sized.   I’s say most of these recipes are ideal for potlucks, and yes of course book clubs.  It’s not an all-purpose “family” or “home-cooking” cookbook.

Now, maybe I’ll try the recipe for Mint Juleps, based on “The Great Gatsby” by F. Scott Fitzgerald.   This hot weather seems to call for it!

Does this cookbook and its’ concept sound good to you?  If you are actually not yet convinced, you can check out The Book Club Cookbook’s website, where there are even more recipes.  This website seems to be a good resource for book clubs in general, not just for additional recipes.

Since I enjoy reading novels set in other countries, it was natural that “Girls of Riyadh” by Rajaa Alsanea (Penguin, 2007) caught my eye when I first saw it.  My interest was piqued further when I read in the inside flap that this novel “was released in Lebanon in Arabic in September of 2005.  The novel, recounting forbidden details about the private lives of four young women from Saudi Arabia’s upper classes, immediately became a sensation all over the Arab world”.  At the time, the author was only 24 years old and she practically became an overnight celebrity.  This novel even got banned in Saudi Arabia.

Then, when I added the title to  my LibraryThing , I saw it being compared to “Sex and the City”, and being “Arabic chick-lit”.  Having never watched an episode of “Sex and the City” (or much else of anything on TV), I can’t vouch for that comparison.  I occasionally read chick-lit, but not enough to compare it to the genre in general.  So, my thoughts and opinions on this book are based on the book alone, not compared to anything else.

First of all, I will say that “Girls of Riyadh” is a fast and relatively light read.  However, it goes deeper than the fact that there are four young and wealthy college-age women (some are attending college, some not) who have problems finding their own ”Mr. Right”. 

Each chapter starts with an anonymous female character telling stories about these four friends, via e-mails to an ever-growing subscriber list of an online yahoo group.  It could be that this anonymous character is actually one of these four women, but we are kept guessing. 

 We are told the story of Gamrah, who is married off to a man who already has a mistress. After they divorce, she is considered “spoiled goods”.  We are also told the story of Michelle, daughter of an Saudi man and an American mother.  Michelle falls in love with Faisal, but because Michelle is not considered to be part of an true Saudi family, has to see him end up marrying someone else.  There’s also Sadeem, who gives herself up (losing her virginity) to the man that she is contracted to be married to.  In between the signing of the marriage contract and the finalization, he decides to break it.  Sadeem falls in love again, but will it work out for her?  Finally, there is also Lamees, who doesn’t seem to play a major part in this book (perhaps because she does find someone she is happy with), but through her we also find how Saudi women are affected by Saudi culture.

All this may seem soap-operaish, but I think it serves to show that even today, there is still many places in this part of the world where women have little say in their own lives, even if some of them become doctors or dentists (the author was a dental student at the time she wrote this book).  Yes, we read books like “A Thousand Splendid Suns” by Khaled Hosseini, that show the gritty lives of women in Afghanistan; but “Girls of Riyadh” shows that even women who are wealthy and on the surface have everything that they ever could want — including college educations — still are restricted, especially in matters of love. 

One of the girls, Lamees, is taken to a police station after she is seen having coffee in a cafe’ with a male student.  In Saudi Arabia, women can only be seen in public with male relatives (including their own husband if they are married), or if they are in a car, with their driver (women are not allowed to drive on their own).

“The thought of finally mixing with the opposite sex was a grand dream for many, many students — guys and girls alike.  Some joined these colleges primarily for that reason, even if the mixing that they anticipated so eagerly was heavily restricted.  Male doctors taught female medical students and male students were allowed to examine female patients, but it was not allowed for male and female students to share a classroom or a lounge.  Contact with the opposite sex would never go beyond some coincidental and transient encounter in the breaks between lectures or at prayer times (facilitated by the fact that the male students tended to pray in the prayer area close to where the female students habitually were), or quick glimpses and stolen glances while about the hospital or riding the elevators.  Still, it was better than nothing”.

In the introduction of this book, Ms. Alsanea states:

“I hope that by the time you finish this book, you will say to yourself: Oh yes, It is a very conservative Islamic society.  The women there do live under male dominance.  But they are full of hopes and plans and determination and dreams.  And they fall deeply in and out of love just like women everywhere else”.

This novel was primarily translated into English by Ms. Alsanea herself, with footnotes here and there.  Interestingly, although there is no credit on the front cover, inside there is credit going to a co-translator, Marilyn Booth.  I happened across an article online, written by Ms. Booth, which seems somewhat angry and bitter.  Apparently, Ms. Booth felt that her translated version was adequate (and better), but that Ms. Alsanea took it out from under her (Ms. Booth’s) nose and changed it to a poor translation.  All I can say is that, yes, there is often a foreign tone (and not always smooth) to how these girls talk and relate their stories, but to be honest it seems more authentic to me.  Too American/English, and it would seem more like just any other novel.  I am sure that this novel is better in its’ native Arabic, though.  I also feel that everytime someone reads and discusses translated works, there is always opinions of how it could be improved, done differently, and so on.  Maybe Ms. Booth’s version is actually better, who knows.   Here is the article  “Where is the Translator’s Voice?”   if you want to read it — Ms. Booth also discusses the problems of being a translator, in general (not getting adequate credit, etc).

So, anyway, if you are curious about Saudi Arabian culture from the female point of view and want to read it in novel form, “Girls of Riyadh” is a good place to start; without too much investment in your time (it’s 281 pages long). 

Any thoughts and recommendations on readings about this culture?  How about your thoughts on translations? 

Disclosure: “Girls of Riyadh” was purchased by me.

It seems like I’m currently on a roll, blogging-wise, right now!  I attribute it to a couple things — my husband is out of town (therefore, I stay up late reading; and the more books I finish, the more I have to blog about); and this week is a bit quieter than usual — my daughter is in a M-Th dance class from 9:30 AM to 12:30 AM all month (another mom is carpooling her this week), but also this week my younger son has been in a cub scout day camp that runs from 9-4, so there is quite a few hours that it is just my older son around; and he tends to sleeps in anyway.  I’m getting a taste of what it’ll be like when they all return to school in four weeks.  Yes, four weeks from now.   I won’t remind them of that fact, though!

Speaking of being on a roll, here are pictures of a pencil roll I recently made.  I wanted to do this project because of Danny Gregory’s books (see my review here of them) about drawing, and I needed a way to store a small sketchbook and pencils.   My pencil roll is based on directions from the book

“Last-Minute Patchwork + Quilted Gifts”, by Joelle Hoverson, but I modified it.  The ties are some decorative yarn that I braided.  Sorry about the quality of the pictures; I took them with my iPhone.

Here is the pencil roll, all rolled up:

The unrolled back of the pencil roll:

And, the inside of the pencil roll:

The pattern could be modified for crochet hooks or knitting needles, as well.  I was inspired to show my pencil roll here, partly because it’s been such a long time since I’ve shown anything coming out of my studio (I hope to remedy that after the kids go back to school…in four weeks!) but also because Marie at The Boston Bibliophile  is taking a book-making class, and a couple of her recent projects have the same fabric way as my pencil roll.  Take a look  at her projects (with better photos) — pretty neat, and it’s a reminder how much I’d like to learn how to do bookmaking.

Are you on twitter?  If so, you might be interested in a couple (new to me) hashtags you’d like to follow: there’s #translationthurs in which Winstondad’s blog is asking us tweeps to recommend translated works every Thursday on twitter.  Tomorrow, among other translated works, I will probably mention “Girls of Riyadh” by Rajaa Alsanea; while the translation doesn’t feel flawless, it’s the most recent translated book I’ve read (working on a review of that now).

Also, on twitter, is the hashtag #followreader — see  Follow The Reader for more information.  They have a weekly twitter discussion on various bookish topics, and last week, it was about book bloggers and independent booksellers collaborating together in various ways.  Indirectly, as a result of this discussion, I discovered that  Tattered Cover  in Denver has an affiliate program.  I’m all for supporting indie booksellers, so I’ve signed up for this affiliate program — as a result, you will now see on my blog sidebar a widget that will take you to Tattered Cover’s website.  After I figure out more how this works (such as linking  book titles), I will be sure to disclose affiliation in blog posts, and any financial benefits I get from this (not much; but that isn’t the point of why I’m doing this).  I don’t get out into Denver often enough — it being an hour’s drive from home — but when I do, I love going into Tattered Cover. Be sure to check out Tattered Cover’s blog also, called Between the Covers.

I’m not sure how I found out about Sepia Mutiny, a cultural interest blog for and about the people of the South Asian diaspora (including those known as Desis) – perhaps I stumbled across it when looking for background info on one of the South Asian novels I’ve read — but at any rate, I’ve subscribed to the blog feed ever since. They have a recent post about a poetry book I now covet: “Indivisible: An Anthology of Contemporary South Asian American Poetry”, edited by Neelanjana Banerjee, Summi Kaipa and Pireeni Sundaralingam – and what’s more, this post shares links going to almost all the poets featured in this book. 

 Read about “Indivisible” here at Sepia Mutiny.  Then go back there later for a Part II post they are planning based on this collection.

One last thing, again about poetry.  I subscribe to Poets.org‘s Poem-A-Day daily e-mails, and I especially like today’s poem, “The Wind Blows Through the Doors of My Heart”, by Deborah Digges.  Here are the beginning lines, and go to this link to read the poem in its’ entirety.  What do you think of this poem?

The wind blows

through the doors of my heart.

It scatters my sheet music

that climbs like waves from the piano, free of the keys.

********

I hope that the rest of this week goes well for all of you!  Any interesting news or books that you would like to share?

 

Holland Park Press is a new London-based publishing company that publishes literary fiction and poetry.  This publisher also endeavors to introduce the work of Dutch authors to English language readers.  I was offered by the publisher a copy of “The Lonely Tree” by Yael Politis (not Dutch, incidentally).  I was both hesitant and intrigued, but went ahead and accepted the offer.  Once I started reading, I was pleasantly surprised that any reservations I had about this book disappeared. 

I was initially under the impression that this book would be solely a romance — not a genre I typically read.  However, I accepted this book because I was intrigued by the setting and time period.  The story begins in British Mandate Palestine, during the early 1940s, and focuses on early Jewish settlers from Poland that establishes a kibbutz in a country that they consider their biblical homeland.   The characters’ lives are interwoven with historical events over the next several years.

The driving force of this story is Tonia Shulman, the daughter of one of the kibbutz’s founders.  My dictionary defines a kibbutz as “a community settlement, usually agricultural, organized under collectivist principles”, and states that kibbutzim (plural of kibbutz) began in the early part of the 20th century, in what is now Israel.   Kibbutz settlers tended to be idealistic young Zionists, like the founders of the novel’s kibbutz, called Kfar Etzion (this was an actual kibbutz in real life).  This kibbutz starts out relatively peacefully:

“All was going well, and Kfar Etzion began to feel like home.  A dozen young Arab men from the surrounding villages had come to the new kibbutz asking for work.  They toiled side by side with their new Jewish neighbors, helping to weed the orchards and put in a vegetable garden”.

Almost from the beginning, Tonia heartily dislikes the concept and lifestyle of the kibbutz.  If she receives a new dress, it isn’t really her own.  She has to share it with the other residents.  She feels poor.  Throughout this story, even in adulthood, Tonia struggles with these feelings, and often attempts to turn her back on her background.  Adding to Tonia’s mixed feelings about settling into Palestine, she continually senses that eventually the Arabic population will be affected by future events– therefore, she struggles with the concept of pushing out the Arabs (this is how they are referred to throughout the novel, rather than Palestinians) from their homes and villages. 

Driving this story, though, is the fact that  Tonia falls in love with a Yemeni Jew, named Amos.  If you have read (or are about to read) my review of “We Look Like the Enemy” by Rachel Shabi, you will realize that to this day, there often is prejudice by Ashkenazi (European) Jews towards Jews of Middle Eastern descent (Yemen is an Arabian Peninsula state).  Therefore, Tonia’s parents disapprove of Tonia’s relationship with Amos.  And, not only that, Amos is a Palmach fighter in the Jewish Underground, an organization that Tonia’s father opposes.

Amos’ widowed mother, Rachel, does likes Tonia, but is initially puzzled at her friendliness (they meet before Tonia realizes that Rachel is Amos’ mother):  “…Rachel knew how these Polish and German Jews looked down their noses at the Yemenites.  The snobs in Rehavia treated their dogs with greater kindness than they did their Yemenite cleaning woman.”

Of course, oftentimes in books, the path to lasting true love is never smooth.  This book is no exception in using this formula. Will Tonia and Amos end up together, happily ever after?  Read “The Lonely Tree” to find out.  In addition to this love story, this book can also be categorized as historical fiction.   For instance, Tonia’s family is horrified at the events of Nazi Germany.  Although they are relatively far away, living in Palestine, they learn that there has been a great loss of Jews; including their own family members.  This book also touches on how the British handed over Palestine, the birth of the state of Israel, and continues through to the aftermath of the 1967 Arab-Israeli War.

At 443 pages, I finished this book in a couple days.  This is quite an accomplishment, considering the many distractions of summertime.  There were a couple plot points that I didn’t find totally plausible (such as when Tonia impulsively decides to give up her business — although the reason for it was understandable).  Also, sometimes, I felt that Tonia took on a Scarlett-like tone (i.e. an attitude of  “I will never be hungry again” ,  at great cost towards her loved ones).  Tonia does not come across as self-centered as Scarlett O’Hara, though.

But overall, I recommend this book if you want to know, in a historical fiction format, more about the setting and time era.  I would recommend this book because of that perspective.  The romantic interest is a nice additional touch.   ”The Lonely Tree” can be ordered directly from Holland Park Press; currently it does not seem to be available (new) on amazon.com or The Book Depository.  Released earlier this year, perhaps more attention will grow towards this book; therefore becoming more readily available.  I’d say it’s worth the effort of ordering directly from the publisher, although I don’t know how fast they ship or their shipping costs.

Disclosure:  Thanks to the publisher for sending me a copy of “The Lonely Tree” to review.

Have you recently read any good multicultural historical fiction, or romance, set in the same time era of “The Lonely Tree”?  Any other thoughts?

Can you imagine living in a town with forty bookstores?  And this is a small town with about 1,500 inhabitants, not a huge metropolitan area.  Hay-on-Wye in Wales is this town; and author Paul Collins  lived there with his wife and toddler son for a couple years.  This story is told in “Sixpence House” (2003, Bloomsbury).

I loved “Sixpence House” when I read it a few years ago, and loaned it to a friend.  She recently returned it to me, and I couldn’t resist doing a re-read of this book.  It is still an enjoyable read the second time around.

Paul, his wife, Jennifer and son Morgan leave San Francisco to live in Hay-on-Wye.  This book is also the story of Mr. Collins going through the editing and publication process of his first book (“Banvard’s Folly: Thirteen Tales of People Who Didn’t Change the World”; another book I read pre-blogging).  So, each chapter is titled as such: “Chapter One Begins Both the Book and the Journey”, “Chapter Twelve is Crap that Nobody Reads Anymore”, and so on.

I like Mr. Collins’ humor, and how he shares with us the quirky characters that he encounters in Hay-on-Wye.  Mr. Collins has a penchant for discussing obscure books he finds in the bookshops there, and also shares arcane information with us.  He even becomes an employee when the “King of Hay” (owner of the local castle which houses the town’s largest bookstore) insists that he needs Mr. Collins to set up an American section of his bookstore.

Mr. Collins also enjoys comparing the difference between Britain and America — some of them may be sweeping generalities, however, such as this one:

“…I am in the next room taking a bath.  This is because there is no point in taking showers in Britain.  In the United States, water pressure presses; in Britain water pressure sucks.  Every shower in Britain has some sorth of Heath Robinson mechanism — he is their equivalent of Rube Goldberg, only Robinson had to work with metric wrenches and 220 current….”

I really like the chapter about unspoken rules in publishing and how books are judged by the dust jacket style that they end up being encased in.  Mr. Collins state that publishers feel that chance buyers don’t really look at the jacket copy or blurbs; but that they mainly make their decisions based on the cover design. 

“There is an implicit code that customers rely on.  If a book cover has raised lettering, metallic lettering, or raised metallic lettering, then it is telling the reader:  Hello.  I am an easy-to-read work on espionage, romance, a celebrity, and/or murder.”

Then there are the colors chosen for covers.  Mr. Collins point out that “a work of Serious Literature will have muted, tea-stained colors.  Black is okay here too, but only if used to accentuate cool blues and grays and greens”.

And this:

“Finally, on Serious Books and crap alike there will be a head shot of The Author sitting still while looking pensive or smiling faintly into the indeterminate distance — the one pose that has no existence in the author’s daily life.  The size of the photo will be in inverse proportion to the quality of the book.  If this photo is rendered in color, it is not a Serious Book.  If there is no author photo at all, then it is a Serious Book indeed — perhaps even a textbook”.

Okay, one more.  This is about books that end up in remainders:

“Among the many banes to a secondhand dealer’s existence, four unloved genres reign supreme: textbooks, theology, celebrity autobiography, and military history.”

This is a book that is mostly about books, but not just that.  If you enjoy thoughts on the reading life, quirky real-life characters, and a taste of what it’s like to be an ex-pat, you will enjoy “Sixpence House”.  It does not seem to be currently in print, which is a shame, but still seems to be found online at reasonable prices.

Do you agree with Mr. Collins’ opinions that I’ve quoted here?  Anything you’d like to add about thoughts on books or reading?

Disclosure: “Sixpence House” was purchased.

“The King’s Mistress” by Emma Campion (Crown Publishing, July 2010) is a historical fiction look at the life of Alice Perrers, mistress of King Edward III (1312-1377).  During Alice’s lifetime, contemporaries called her a “shameless, impudent harlot” (author’s note, “The King’s Mistress”), and even today, websites such as this one describe Alice as a “greedy mistress”.

Emma Campion, however, portrays Alice as a sympathetic character.  Even though Alice has not been treated well by history, not much is known about her.  In this historical fiction re-telling, Alice is portrayed as  a woman who was unable to avoid her fate — first being married to a merchant, Janyn Perrers, and after she is widowed, becomes Edward III’s mistress.  Not only that, Alice was actually in love with these two men.

Told in first-person narrative, Alice shares details about her young life (she married at fourteen) up until after Edward III’s death — at which time she was considered an old woman in her forties.   The reader can get a good feel for what court life was like — Alice was a lady-in-waiting for Edward III’s queen, Phillipa of Hainault. 

 Although in general I did enjoy reading this book, I felt that the final part (Part IV) was not really necessary — this part covers Alice’s life after Edward III dies.  Perhaps, instead, the author’s note could have included a description of Alice’s life post-Edward.  Interestingly, the UK edition of “The King’s Mistress” was released last year, and is actually about 100 pages longer than the American edition that I read!  My copy is 445 pages long.  Knowing that this book was edited down, I cannot help but wonder why — was it felt that the book was too long in the first place, or that American audiences have a shorter attention span than British readers?

Another interesting touch is that each chapter is introduced with quotes (in the original Olde English) from “Troilus and Criseyde” by Geoffrey Chaucer (modern spelling version is helpful here).  In this novel, Alice is a good friend of Chaucer and also can’t help but identify herself with Criseyde (the story is described in this book, but not until page 148 of my copy).

One reason why I like historical fiction (and, actually, also history) from this era is because my ancestors often pop up here and there.  I’m descended from two of Edward III’s aunts, so this is a bit of a later era for what I am familiar with.  But still, it’s an era I like reading more than, say, the Tudors in historical fiction.  So, historical fiction readers who enjoy stories set from the Plantagenet era may enjoy this book.  Also, the author, Emma Campion, is actually the pen name of Candace Robb, writer of medieval mysteries.  If you are a fan of Candace Robb (I have yet to read any of her mysteries), you may want to try “The King’s Mistress”.

Disclosure: An advance review copy “The King’s Mistress” was sent to me by the publisher, thanks to TLC Book Tours.  Visit TLC Book Tours’  link here to find other reviews of this book. 

By the way, I thought I’d mention that if you are a member of a book club, you get the chance to win up to ten copies of “The King’s Mistress” for your book club if you enter by July 31st.  Go to TLC Book Tours’ sign-up page here  to enter.

“In the Shadow of the Law” by Kermit Roosevelt (Picador, 2006)  is categorized as a legal thriller, not something I usually read.  I think the only other legal thriller I’ve read in my whole life was a Grisham, and only because a few years ago a group of friends tried to run a book club via group e-mail (it fizzed out after a few months, unfortunately); and the Grisham was the selection one month.  I’m not averse to the concept of legal novels, though.  So, why did I pick up “In the Shadow of the Law” when I spied it a couple years ago prominently displayed at a local bookstore when I was living near Philadelphia — where the author lives?  Okay, I admit it — because of the author’s name.

Kermit (“Kim”) Roosevelt III is the great-great-grandson of President Theodore Roosevelt.  This is nowhere mentioned in the book, but being the history buff that I am, I knew he was part of the T. Roosevelt family. Since I’m a history buff, I’ve read several books about Theodore Roosevelt and his offspring.  By the way, I like FDR too, but not reading about FDR’s family — they were mostly tabloid-type material.   Still in his thirties, Mr. Roosevelt has written ”In the Shadow of the Law” – his first novel – and is a professor of law at U – Penn Law School (thus, probably the promient book display at the time –  his being a local author).

This novel is about Morgan Siler, a large DC law firm and the lawyers and associates working for this firm.  There are two different cases (the more promient one being a pro-bono murder case).   Both partners and associates are part of this story.  There is also a lot of legal speak here, some of which went over my head — but I do feel that I learned a little from reading this novel.  Mr. Roosevelt has written a very intelligent book — one that is probably more appreciated by those who have more of a legal background than I do (or maybe I need to read more Grisham to understand it more).  I’m not sure about the “thriller” part of the title — this book didn’t leave me breathless with anticipation while reading (and it bogs down slightly in the middle) — but for the most part I enjoyed reading a book about a topic I don’t usually read.  It gave me an interesting perspective on the question “What is Law?”

Page 180:

“Law rules business, he would say, and for that reason lawyers cannot serve businessmen blindly.  Peter could rattle off the maxims by heart.  Law is a helping profession, not a facilitating one.  The greatest problem is no one says no anymore.  We have to maintain our standards“.

Peter Morgan is the son of the firm’s founder.  The following passage (page 173) made me think that perhaps Mr. Roosevelt might be referring to himself:

“Peter Morgan saw his father’s letterhead and understood its significance at once.  A vast contentment spread over him.  All his life he had piled up achievements only to see them discounted by others.  No mystery how he got into Harvard Law, he’d heard classmates whisper; wasn’t there an Archibald Morgan Chair in Legal Ethics?  Peter worked ferociously to remove any question as to whether he merited his success, to erase with the sweat of his brow the suggestion of undeserved privilege”.

I wonder if Mr. Roosevelt has future novels in mind — this wasn’t bad for a first novel.  I’m sure he’s very busy being a law school professor, though!

Do you read legal thrillers?  Or have you admittedly picked up a book solely on the author’s name (i.e. because he/she was related to someone famous?)

Disclosure:  As mentioned above — I purchased “In the Shadow of the Law”, about four years ago in PA.