Spotted this at the library and was surprised: who knew the Scottish comedian was also a writer? So, I checked it out, took it home, and started to read.
*sigh*
There's a reason that he's not known as a writer. This book definitely had it's funny, roll on the floor laughing moments, but they were disjointed. Some types of verbal patter work in books, but his doesn't. Ferguson is a master of witty asides, and they definitely show up here. It seems clear that he's gone, through use of footnotes, for a style similar to Terry Pratchett, and while I find Pratchett hilarious, Ferguson isn't quite up to comparison. The chapters and scenes have little natural flow and thus the laughter ends up episodic.
I give this two coffee cups out of five. Ferguson's funny, when it's on, is really on; when it's not... it's boring.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Caleb's Crossing by Geraldine Brooks
Caleb's Crossing is a historical novel told in three parts. It tells a highly fictionalized tale of "Caleb Cheeshahteaumauk, a member of the Wopanaak tribe of Noepe (Martha's Vineyard), born 1646, and the first Native American to graduate from Harvard College." (from the Author's Note). The story is told in three parts, through the eyes of a female colonist and friend of Caleb's, Bethia Mayhew.
The first part takes place in 1657, and relates how Bethia comes to be acquianted with the young brave. In Bethia, we have a girl who is strong and brave, but straitened by the times in which she lives. Her family came into possession of the island through what they consider fair dealing with the native tribes (rather than the land grabs that were more common). Her grandfather is the magistrate of the island, and her father the minister. Bethia longs to know everything. She's learned to read and write (English, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew) through a combination of lessons from her father and through sly listening in on his more advanced lessons to her older brother. She's learned the language of the natives through the same manner. Feeling strangled by the society in which she lives, Bethia often wanders the island, searching for sustenance for her family. In this manner, she comes unexpectedly upon Cheeshahteaumauk (who she quickly renames Caleb), and they become fast, though secret, friends. Her father's zeal to convert the native islanders to Christianity is given a boost when smallpox sweeps he tribe after he is humiliated by Caleb's uncle; the tribes consider the pox perhaps a punishment from Mayhew's God. Caleb is sent to live with the Mayhews.
In part two (1661), Bethia's world is shattered when her beloved baby sister dies (her mother died in that child's birth), quickly followed by her Father. In order to assure her brother's acceptance at a school in Cambridge that will complete his preparation for Harvard, Bethia is bound into a four year indentured servitude to the headmaster. She journeys hence with her brother, Makepeace, Caleb, and another Native American boy, Joel, to find privation that she'd not imagined before. Her master is kind, but the treatment of the Native boys that she calls friend is deplorable. We meet a female Native scholar here, as well, Anna, and suffer miscarriage of both a child that was unknown to all, and of justice, when the father fails to be brought to justice. A love triangle, of sorts, is introduced at this point, as Bethia must choose between her friend/former suitor back on the island, and the Harvard educated son of her master. We finish this section with the impending graduation from Harvard of Caleb and Joel (Makepeace has long since dropped out of the picture).
The third, and weakest, section begins in 1715. An aged Bethia is reminiscing about her marriage (I won't say to whom), early married life, and the ultimate fate of Caleb and Joel. The weakness of this section is in it's very disjointed nature. It jumps back and forth in time, perhaps indicating the mental state of the aged narrator, but I found it nonetheless jarring.
I enjoyed this book, as I've enjoyed all of Brooks' books. Her prose is spot on, as is her grasp of the times and the language of the times. Brooks is a historian, and it shows in each of her novels. I ended wanting to know more about the real Caleb, but, sadly, there is very little factually known about him. The biggest weakness, as in all of Brooks' novels, is her 'romance'. In no book, including this one, is it ever believable, nor does she seem comfortable writing such scenes. It's almost as if an editor (or perhaps Brooks herself) said, "This is a novel and you're a woman, so there has to be some romance." As insulting as that is to female readers and writers, more insulting is the perfunctory and uneasy way she deals with 'The Luv'. I'd far rather she skipped that and gave us more of the fabric of her characters' lives, because she excels in that sphere.
All in all, I enjoyed Caleb's Crossing, but I would have junked the romance and tightened up the third act. I'd give this three coffee cups out of five. Enjoyable, but not a don't miss.
As a post script to make you think, the second Wopanaak tribesmember to graduate from Harvard is Tiffany Smalley. She just graduated this year.
The first part takes place in 1657, and relates how Bethia comes to be acquianted with the young brave. In Bethia, we have a girl who is strong and brave, but straitened by the times in which she lives. Her family came into possession of the island through what they consider fair dealing with the native tribes (rather than the land grabs that were more common). Her grandfather is the magistrate of the island, and her father the minister. Bethia longs to know everything. She's learned to read and write (English, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew) through a combination of lessons from her father and through sly listening in on his more advanced lessons to her older brother. She's learned the language of the natives through the same manner. Feeling strangled by the society in which she lives, Bethia often wanders the island, searching for sustenance for her family. In this manner, she comes unexpectedly upon Cheeshahteaumauk (who she quickly renames Caleb), and they become fast, though secret, friends. Her father's zeal to convert the native islanders to Christianity is given a boost when smallpox sweeps he tribe after he is humiliated by Caleb's uncle; the tribes consider the pox perhaps a punishment from Mayhew's God. Caleb is sent to live with the Mayhews.
In part two (1661), Bethia's world is shattered when her beloved baby sister dies (her mother died in that child's birth), quickly followed by her Father. In order to assure her brother's acceptance at a school in Cambridge that will complete his preparation for Harvard, Bethia is bound into a four year indentured servitude to the headmaster. She journeys hence with her brother, Makepeace, Caleb, and another Native American boy, Joel, to find privation that she'd not imagined before. Her master is kind, but the treatment of the Native boys that she calls friend is deplorable. We meet a female Native scholar here, as well, Anna, and suffer miscarriage of both a child that was unknown to all, and of justice, when the father fails to be brought to justice. A love triangle, of sorts, is introduced at this point, as Bethia must choose between her friend/former suitor back on the island, and the Harvard educated son of her master. We finish this section with the impending graduation from Harvard of Caleb and Joel (Makepeace has long since dropped out of the picture).
The third, and weakest, section begins in 1715. An aged Bethia is reminiscing about her marriage (I won't say to whom), early married life, and the ultimate fate of Caleb and Joel. The weakness of this section is in it's very disjointed nature. It jumps back and forth in time, perhaps indicating the mental state of the aged narrator, but I found it nonetheless jarring.
I enjoyed this book, as I've enjoyed all of Brooks' books. Her prose is spot on, as is her grasp of the times and the language of the times. Brooks is a historian, and it shows in each of her novels. I ended wanting to know more about the real Caleb, but, sadly, there is very little factually known about him. The biggest weakness, as in all of Brooks' novels, is her 'romance'. In no book, including this one, is it ever believable, nor does she seem comfortable writing such scenes. It's almost as if an editor (or perhaps Brooks herself) said, "This is a novel and you're a woman, so there has to be some romance." As insulting as that is to female readers and writers, more insulting is the perfunctory and uneasy way she deals with 'The Luv'. I'd far rather she skipped that and gave us more of the fabric of her characters' lives, because she excels in that sphere.
All in all, I enjoyed Caleb's Crossing, but I would have junked the romance and tightened up the third act. I'd give this three coffee cups out of five. Enjoyable, but not a don't miss.
As a post script to make you think, the second Wopanaak tribesmember to graduate from Harvard is Tiffany Smalley. She just graduated this year.
Dale Loves Sophie to Death by Robb Forman Dew
I picked this book up at the library on a whim, and ended up reading nearly the whole thing while standing in the aisle. Weighing in at a slim 217 pages, Dale Loves Sophie to Death is a quick read... but not a light one.
From the jacket blurb:
"Dew's astonishing debut illuminates the varieties of romantic love and the unexpected rewards of family life as it tells the story of a woman whose husband stays behind in New England while she and their three young children return to her midwestern town to spend the summer. "
Interesting enough, but that's just the beginning. As the story begins, we meet Dinah, the first protagonist, and learn that this trip is one she's taken each summer for the past eight years, using the time away from her 'real life' to reconnect with childhood and family. We meet her mother, a decidedly unsympathetic character, and her father (who is even more unsympathetic), and wonder where this woman who is trying so hard to be the 'good' wife and mother came from.
Her 'other half' is Martin, her husband of many years. In him, we find a good man and husband, but one that occasionally finds himself unmoored in life, searching for who knows what.
Dinah and Martin have come to rely on the two weeks apart as a time to recharge and remember how and why they originally came together. We see their separate journeys on this particular summer, as Dinah deals with a crisis of faith in her family, and Martin deals with a crisis of faith in his marriage.
I've often looked for a story about a real marriage, dealing with real emotions and the tiny things that make up every day life. This is that book. Though the writer's style is a little bit pedantic at times, she's got the petty irritations and everyday joys of marriage life down. Upon parting, both partners have a similar feeling: From Martin,
"...and these summers they parted mute with bewildered misery, feeling at once that they were being forced apart and yet each anxious to be away from the other."
From Dinah:
"She looked at his clean head, silhouetted against the car window, and she wanted to weep at the misunderstanding between them. There was no one, no others but the children, to whom she was more tied."
Do those sentiments sound familiar? They do to me. And they're just the tip of the iceberg of, "Good God! I know exactly how that feels!"
In the course of the book, Dinah comes to a sort of truce with her parents and a serenity with her own life that rings so very true, while Martin's brief foray into infidelity (one that didn't even horrify me as much as such scenes often do, because it is written and explained so well) ends with his realization of how very blessed he really is. From the last page:
"...with the children in the back seat and his wife beside him, he realized with wonder and relief that he was happy."
Dew's style is a little stiff, at times, but she fills her story with the little details of family life that ring so very true. She also never flinches at the truth of a long term relationship: the push/pull of parting and the awkwardness of reunions after a long separation are dealt with honestly. I loved this line:
"But always at the end of their summer separation they could only simulate, at first, their remembered affection, because, inescapably, there was a trace of shyness between them."
YES! Truth! The thing is, though, they do make that effort, knowing that life will return to normal.
This book was a welcome surprise. I'd not heard of story, nor author, but found it absorbing. In fact, I found myself, days later, worrying about one of their children (that was not a normal flu, I just know it!).
That, my friends, is writing. I give this four coffee cups out of five.
From the jacket blurb:
"Dew's astonishing debut illuminates the varieties of romantic love and the unexpected rewards of family life as it tells the story of a woman whose husband stays behind in New England while she and their three young children return to her midwestern town to spend the summer. "
Interesting enough, but that's just the beginning. As the story begins, we meet Dinah, the first protagonist, and learn that this trip is one she's taken each summer for the past eight years, using the time away from her 'real life' to reconnect with childhood and family. We meet her mother, a decidedly unsympathetic character, and her father (who is even more unsympathetic), and wonder where this woman who is trying so hard to be the 'good' wife and mother came from.
Her 'other half' is Martin, her husband of many years. In him, we find a good man and husband, but one that occasionally finds himself unmoored in life, searching for who knows what.
Dinah and Martin have come to rely on the two weeks apart as a time to recharge and remember how and why they originally came together. We see their separate journeys on this particular summer, as Dinah deals with a crisis of faith in her family, and Martin deals with a crisis of faith in his marriage.
I've often looked for a story about a real marriage, dealing with real emotions and the tiny things that make up every day life. This is that book. Though the writer's style is a little bit pedantic at times, she's got the petty irritations and everyday joys of marriage life down. Upon parting, both partners have a similar feeling: From Martin,
"...and these summers they parted mute with bewildered misery, feeling at once that they were being forced apart and yet each anxious to be away from the other."
From Dinah:
"She looked at his clean head, silhouetted against the car window, and she wanted to weep at the misunderstanding between them. There was no one, no others but the children, to whom she was more tied."
Do those sentiments sound familiar? They do to me. And they're just the tip of the iceberg of, "Good God! I know exactly how that feels!"
In the course of the book, Dinah comes to a sort of truce with her parents and a serenity with her own life that rings so very true, while Martin's brief foray into infidelity (one that didn't even horrify me as much as such scenes often do, because it is written and explained so well) ends with his realization of how very blessed he really is. From the last page:
"...with the children in the back seat and his wife beside him, he realized with wonder and relief that he was happy."
Dew's style is a little stiff, at times, but she fills her story with the little details of family life that ring so very true. She also never flinches at the truth of a long term relationship: the push/pull of parting and the awkwardness of reunions after a long separation are dealt with honestly. I loved this line:
"But always at the end of their summer separation they could only simulate, at first, their remembered affection, because, inescapably, there was a trace of shyness between them."
YES! Truth! The thing is, though, they do make that effort, knowing that life will return to normal.
This book was a welcome surprise. I'd not heard of story, nor author, but found it absorbing. In fact, I found myself, days later, worrying about one of their children (that was not a normal flu, I just know it!).
That, my friends, is writing. I give this four coffee cups out of five.
These is My Words: The Diary of Sarah Agnes Prine 1881-1901 By Nancy E Turner
What a wonderful book!
These is My Words is the sprawling, funny, sad, heart-racingly good story of a settler in the Arizona Territories. The book begins when Sarh Prine is seventeen. Her family tries a misbegotten trip East, ultimately ending with the death of a younger brother. They decide to return to the Arizona Territories, in a wagon train guarded by Army regulars.
It is there that Sarah meets the man who will be the love of her life, the dashing Captain Jack Elliott. Through Indian attacks, illness, more deaths, and shatteringly terrible weather, the Prine family perseveres and settles on new claims in Arizona.
And then the action really begins!
Sarah is a heroine for our age: feisty, capable, and stronger than the mesquite of her home, she faces horrors that most of us can only imagine. Through her eyes, we see the incredibly difficult process of taming an untamed land, building a life there, and raising children with honesty and similar strength. She endures a loveless first marriage and rebuilding her life afterward, as well.
Re enter Captain Elliott. Through the years, he's kept track of the Prines and kept a hand in their lives, enjoying a cantankerous relationship with Sarah over the years. It's clear to all but her that Jack is her other half, though she finally comes to recognize that fact. Some of the best repartee and scenes in the book are between her and her Army love ( and his love letter... *sigh*), but this book is not a historical romance. Though her relationship with her first husband and Jack are important parts of her life, they are only parts. Through her journal, we see the scope of pioneer life.
I can't say enough about this book. The prose is wonderfully written, and the characters believable. I'm a history nut, and so have read my share of true accounts of pioneer life. This story rings true. I give this four coffee cups on a five cup scale.
These is My Words is the sprawling, funny, sad, heart-racingly good story of a settler in the Arizona Territories. The book begins when Sarh Prine is seventeen. Her family tries a misbegotten trip East, ultimately ending with the death of a younger brother. They decide to return to the Arizona Territories, in a wagon train guarded by Army regulars.
It is there that Sarah meets the man who will be the love of her life, the dashing Captain Jack Elliott. Through Indian attacks, illness, more deaths, and shatteringly terrible weather, the Prine family perseveres and settles on new claims in Arizona.
And then the action really begins!
Sarah is a heroine for our age: feisty, capable, and stronger than the mesquite of her home, she faces horrors that most of us can only imagine. Through her eyes, we see the incredibly difficult process of taming an untamed land, building a life there, and raising children with honesty and similar strength. She endures a loveless first marriage and rebuilding her life afterward, as well.
Re enter Captain Elliott. Through the years, he's kept track of the Prines and kept a hand in their lives, enjoying a cantankerous relationship with Sarah over the years. It's clear to all but her that Jack is her other half, though she finally comes to recognize that fact. Some of the best repartee and scenes in the book are between her and her Army love ( and his love letter... *sigh*), but this book is not a historical romance. Though her relationship with her first husband and Jack are important parts of her life, they are only parts. Through her journal, we see the scope of pioneer life.
I can't say enough about this book. The prose is wonderfully written, and the characters believable. I'm a history nut, and so have read my share of true accounts of pioneer life. This story rings true. I give this four coffee cups on a five cup scale.
Friday, July 1, 2011
The Passage by Justin Cronin
Wow. This is one hell of a big, complex book!
At it's outset, it is set in a not-so-distant future. Scientists have made a discovery that they think could be used to save the terminally ill; their research is co-opted by the military, in hopes of creating a 'super soldier'. Using prisoners on death row as the guinea pigs, what is actually created is an entirely new being who best resembles an armor covered vampire that can influence minds. Of course, in the tradition of great monster movies, such an abomination cannot be contained for long. Our mega-vamps escape and wreak havoc, destroying first Colorado (where they are housed), and then most of the US (and maybe the rest of the world-Cronin is cagey and never really clarifies that).
Skip ahead a century, and we're suddenly plopped into a dystopian future, where the few remaining humans live in walled compounds, constantly on alert for incursions from 'dracs' or 'smokes', as they call the failed experiments and their 'children'. The plot thickens when a mysterious girl appears, and we get hints that the 'dracs' are influencing the minds of the colony's leaders.
This is a bold novel. Cronin takes on great swaths of time; some sections he handles better than others. However, I have to admit that even the sections that falter a bit are absorbing. Apparently this is intended the first in a series (and there is the requisite ugly cliffhanger at the end of the book to ram that point home); still, I wonder if the author started out intending to tell a complete story and had to stop to avoid having a 1k page book. Very few authors can sell a book like that, because it has to priced prohibitively to cover publishing costs. 'The Passage' feels like an unfinished book to me, unfortunately--the end is forced in a way that a planned series ending rarely is.
Before you get to that end, though, the ride is delightful! Cronin surprised me more than once, which is golden. As a long time reader of Stephen King, whose works this reminds me of very strongly (and who is one of the few that could sell the aforementioned 1K page book), I've seen a lot in the way of twists and interesting characters, and I've learned to anticipate and predict 'what happens next'; it's refreshing to be startled!
'The Passage' is an ambitious novel that doesn't quite live up to all the promises it makes; the ride is enjoyable enough, though, for me to give it four stars (despite the ending). I'm looking forward to the sequel.
At it's outset, it is set in a not-so-distant future. Scientists have made a discovery that they think could be used to save the terminally ill; their research is co-opted by the military, in hopes of creating a 'super soldier'. Using prisoners on death row as the guinea pigs, what is actually created is an entirely new being who best resembles an armor covered vampire that can influence minds. Of course, in the tradition of great monster movies, such an abomination cannot be contained for long. Our mega-vamps escape and wreak havoc, destroying first Colorado (where they are housed), and then most of the US (and maybe the rest of the world-Cronin is cagey and never really clarifies that).
Skip ahead a century, and we're suddenly plopped into a dystopian future, where the few remaining humans live in walled compounds, constantly on alert for incursions from 'dracs' or 'smokes', as they call the failed experiments and their 'children'. The plot thickens when a mysterious girl appears, and we get hints that the 'dracs' are influencing the minds of the colony's leaders.
This is a bold novel. Cronin takes on great swaths of time; some sections he handles better than others. However, I have to admit that even the sections that falter a bit are absorbing. Apparently this is intended the first in a series (and there is the requisite ugly cliffhanger at the end of the book to ram that point home); still, I wonder if the author started out intending to tell a complete story and had to stop to avoid having a 1k page book. Very few authors can sell a book like that, because it has to priced prohibitively to cover publishing costs. 'The Passage' feels like an unfinished book to me, unfortunately--the end is forced in a way that a planned series ending rarely is.
Before you get to that end, though, the ride is delightful! Cronin surprised me more than once, which is golden. As a long time reader of Stephen King, whose works this reminds me of very strongly (and who is one of the few that could sell the aforementioned 1K page book), I've seen a lot in the way of twists and interesting characters, and I've learned to anticipate and predict 'what happens next'; it's refreshing to be startled!
'The Passage' is an ambitious novel that doesn't quite live up to all the promises it makes; the ride is enjoyable enough, though, for me to give it four stars (despite the ending). I'm looking forward to the sequel.
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