It took me a week to read Andre Dubus III's latest novel, The Garden of Last Days. For me, this is a lot of time to invest in one book -- normally I read two or three in that time frame. I found that The Garden of Last Days required my complete attention. It was a complex novel, full of side plots and deep characterizations. Was it worth the 500+ pages and the week it took to complete? While some reviews I have read would differ, I would say it was. It was interesting throughout its entirety, and even if some of the prose felt heavy and long, Dubus weaves a fanstastic story.
In The Garden of Last Days, Florida stripper April (stage name Spring) brings her toddler daughter to work with her after her landlady/babysitter winds up in the hospital. Also in the Puma Club that night is middle-eastern Bassam, one of the 9/11 hijackers. He has seen April before, and he pays large sums of money on this particular night to spend one-on-one time with her in the Champagne Room. As April dances for Bassam, her daughter goes missing. While the police and April's coworkers rush to find tiny Franny, other subplots abound. Dubus gives readers background information on all of the book's characters (important and not-so): April, Bassam, Lonnie the bouncer, Jean the widowed landlady, and Puma Club regular AJ, among others.
While Dubus is talented in his writing skills (for one thing, he writes each section in language that pertains to the character the section focuses on), there are too many tangents in the novel. It is difficult to remain concerned for April and her daughter while also feeling empathy for AJ's estranged wife and mother, Lonnie's broken dreams, and Jean's feelings of loss and loneliness. However, the short time period (primarily a Friday through a Monday, with some epilogue chapters several years later) heightens the sense of mystery surrounding Franny's disappearance and Bassam's plan for jihad. There were times I felt like skipping through long flashbacks to Bassam's muslim childhood or AJ's mother's memories. However, all in all, Dubus kept my attention. His characters are genuine -- you feel sympathy for them at the same time that you are cringing at their mistakes. This is not the blockbuster that House of Sand and Fog was, but it was both entertaining and thought-provoking.
Just thought I'd share a funny picture of myself, still holding a book in bed, but fast asleep. As you can see, reading before I go to sleep is something I do each and every night. From the time my dad brought home a robin's egg blue, clip-on reading lamp and the Carolyn Keene/ Nancy Drew book Trouble in Tahiti (published in January of 1991 -- I was 9 years old!), I've been an avid before-bed reader. Usually I read until my eyelids are heavy (and this is never a page-or-two occurrence -- it takes me an hour or more of reading to get sleepy). However, on this particular night I obviously couldn't hold my eyes open to lay down the book and turn off the light.
What is keeping me up nights these days, you might ask? Andre Dubus III's The Garden of Last Days. I'll save conversation about the novel for after I've finished it, but suffice to say it's holding my attention.
After my vow a few months back to read every novel ever written by Michael Connelly in chronological order, I did really well. I got within the last three novels (last two, actually, because I'm not sure the last one has been published yet). Then I stopped. One reason is that I couldn't find the newest novels at the used bookstores I frequent. They were also always checked out at the library. I could have put them on hold, but I didn't. I'm going to say now that it was a subconscious way of not letting his books end. There's nothing I hate more than loving an author, having read all of their books, and having to wait until they write something new to read them again. So for whatever reason, I put off reading the last few from Connelly's list. I was not disappointed.
In fact, I think that The Brass Verdict was much better than the first Mickey Haller novel, The Lincoln Lawyer. In this novel, Haller still has his demons (pill addiction being a recent one), but he has matured since the previous story. He makes better choices and prioritizes the important things in life (his daughter, his own health). He's still chasing after his ex-wife (and the mother of his daughter), and he's still defending hardened criminals. But he also sees the good in people and the bad in people. He treats them accordingly, which equals out to him doing the right thing most of the time.
Both Harry Bosch and Jack McEvoy, characters from previous Connelly novels, make appearances in The Brass Verdict. Haller, out of the game for a while during his rehab stint, is thrown back into the courtroom with full force when a lawyer friend is murdered and he is ordered by a judge to take over the dead man's cases. Haller begins his defense for these clients, most particularly a movie mogul who is accused of killing his wife and her lover in their Malibu home. As Haller works to defend his new clients, he also is working with Bosch to solve his friend's murder. McEvoy appears only briefly as a newspaper reporter trying to get an inside scoop on the murder trial. Bosch plays a more prominent role as he and Haller discover some personal connections as they work the case.
The Brass Verdict was an excellent Connelly novel for me to dive back into. Now I only have The Scarecrow (Jack McEvoy & Rachel Walling) and 9 Dragons (Harry Bosch with Mickey Haller) left to go. I also picked up a copy of Connelly's nonfiction piece, Crime Beat, at The Book Cellar in Crossville, Tennessee, last week when I was in there for work. It includes journalism pieces from Connelly's years as a reporter in Los Angeles working the police beat -- a job which led to him writing the novels he's known for now.
Compilation photo courtesy of www.mannythemovieguy.com
Another fun fact: Matthew McConaughey is slated to play Mickey Haller in an upcoming film based on The Lincoln Lawyer, directed by Tommy Lee Jones.
I ran to the library today... Returned all those cookbooks (which I didn't make ANYTHING out of -- they had some good recipes, but the last couple of weeks I've done very little cooking). I also returned a novel or two that I started and didn't enjoy. I love new choices, though, and I checked out several that I have high hopes for. Among them:
Kitchen Express: 404 Inspired Seasonal Dishes You Can Make in 20 Minutes or Less by Mark Bittman -- I know, I know. Another cookbook. This one is really neat, though, because all of the recipes are not really recipes. They are written in easy-to-read, conversational paragraph form. May be a bit difficult to go without an ingredient list, but I like the way the recipes read, as though Bittman is in my kitchen teaching me new techniques.
The Brass Verdict by Michael Connelly -- I've put off finishing the last three books in the Michael Connelly library, simply because I didn't want my reading of him to be over! I hate when I finish every book a particular author has read and then I have to wait until they write something new. Some of those writers are so darn slow! Then again, I don't think I'd be quite as happy with the end result if they hurried through (think Danielle Steel or other prolific but terrible authors). But now I've taken the dive, so I give myself a week or so to finish all of his books. (I've already read 80 pages into this one!)
The Garden of Last Days by Andre Dubus III -- I finally read his House of Sand and Fog years after it was written and the movie came out. It was wonderful in its true emotion and grit. I'm looking forward to this one which just came out last year.
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver -- Have you noticed a trend in my memoir/ nonfiction reading lately? I've been consumed by foodie writings... Well, you only live once. You've got to go with what you know (and like) sometimes.
Wishin' and Hopin': A Christmas Story by Wally Lamb -- Lamb doesn't seem like the type to write a just-in-time-for-Christmas novel. He's only written three novels over a 15-or-so-year career. In other words, he's not popping off a new novel every 3-6 months to make millions. Nevertheless, this does have the words "Christmas" and "story" in the title... Even though I'm not big on seasonal books, I'm diving straight in because I have absolutely no qualms about reading anything at all written by Lamb. It'll be fabulous, and I'll let you know that it was after it's completed!
Judith Jones made her living editing cookbooks for Alfred A. Knopf. In her memoir The Tenth Muse: My Life in Food, Jones writes of living and meeting her husband in France, working with Julia Child on Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and traveling across the world to find the perfect cuisine. As a former junior editor for Doubleday, she is credited with reading Anne Frank's Diary of a Young Girl as it was being tossed into a throw-away pile and "saving" it for publication. She began doing translations for Doubleday and then Knopf for such famous writers as Camus and Sartre. Later, her love affair with food led her to dinner parties with Knopf and his wife and their famous friends. Jones came in as editor for Julia Child's first cookbook and stayed her editor throughout Child's life.
Jones then forayed into the food scene herself, continuing her editing work with Knopf and also writing and collaborating on cookbooks of her own, often with her husband Evan. In The Tenth Muse, Jones relates stories of interactions with home cooks and talented chefs in restaurants and kitchens from the United States to Paris to Thailand. While name dropping, Jones manages to remain genuine. Perhaps this is because her love for food and cooking is so evident in her writing. Although the memoir runs to almost 300 pages, the last hundred or so are devoted to recipes for the most memorable dishes Jones discusses in the book.
From her childhood of English food (her mother had an aversion to garlic, and Jones comments early on that it was a wonder she ever ate anything with taste after such a start) to a "Cooking for One" section with recipes she has developed since her husband's death, Jones offers her readers a chance to get their own hands dirty in the kitchen. While some of her recipes are a bit too adventurous for me (and for most readers, I would imagine) -- sweetbreads & brains are on the menu -- overall Jones is true to her own culinary perspective, which seems important in a memoir about food. Jones also adds conversation to each dish, telling readers when and where she had the dish and who she shared it with at the dinner table. A must-read for true foodies and for the cook at home, interested in where the cookbooks lining their shelves come from.
I finished Chelsea Cain's newest serial killer thriller in the middle of the night a couple of days ago. Which meant that I then had to go to sleep directly after reading it... Here the story gets a little scary, but let me assure you that it was just a dream. It was only a dream. However, during said dream, I will admit to being totally freaked out that a female psychopath wanted to cut out my heart and carve on my skin. If this sounds like nothing you're interested in, you should skip Evil at Heart. Here's a little taste of Cain's style, via a video from her press kit for the new novel:
If a little bit if fear is welcome in your life, you should absolutely find a copy of Cain's newest novel. Prior to doing that, however, you should first find copies of both Heartsick and Sweetheart, the first two novels in this series. (**Side note: Amazon.com currently has all three books together for around $30 -- the first two in trade paperback and the newest in hardback. Pretty good deal!) Heartsick begins Cain's tale of police detective Archie Sheridan and his own personal Hannibal Lector, Gretchen Lowell. Sweetheart continues the story, as does Evil at Heart.
This series is groundbreaking in its risky premise: a drop-dead-gorgeous, blonde female plays the sociopath who has killed more than 200 people. Unlike "normal" serial killers (if there can be such a thing), Lowell seems to kill not for a purpose or because of a past history of abuse. Instead, she kills purely for the pleasure of the kill. She murders people as hunters kill prey, having her own brand of fun with each of them prior to their ultimate death. In a twist on Silence of the Lambs, it is Lowell who has been sent to prison and the male detective Sheridan who visits her to learn of her promised "confessions" of unsolved crimes. This is how Heartsick begins, with an examination of this twisted relationship and its affect on Sheridan's life and marriage. In Sweetheart the story continues, and Lowell ultimately escapes from her prison cell.
Evil at Heart picks up where Sweetheart left off -- Lowell is on the loose and Sheridan is a psych ward patient. The toll that the so-called Beauty Killer has taken on Sheridan's life seems almost beyond repair. Because of her beauty and cunning, Lowell has become not a monster, but a hero in the eyes of the American public. Beauty Killer t-shirts are being sold by street vendors across the country, Newsweek offers the question: "Innocent?" with her picture gracing their cover, and fan groups are popping up all over the internet. A particularly enamored group creates the website www.iheartgretchenlowell.com, prompting the question: who are these people and what are they capable of? Evil at Heartexamines that question, along with the ever-haunted Sheridan and curious, crayon-haired journalist Susan Ward.
The drawback to Cain's spellbounding storytelling and fascinating characters is her inclusion of extreme amounts of gore. Cain details the injuries of Lowell's victims, and the result is almost unreadable. There were a couple of places in which I had to put down the book for a while or skip over particularly difficult-to-read sections. A certain amount of blood and guts is the norm for a thriller, especially one about a serial killer. But Cain takes it a step further than other authors have before. If you can stomach it, the series is truly unique and entertaining. I look forward to seeing where Archie Sheridan and Gretchen Lowell take us in future tomes from Cain's series.
I am ALWAYS reading multiple things at once... Sometimes a stack of in-the-process books on my nightstand might be 6 or 7 books high. At the moment the nightstand is empty (well, of books, anyway), but I am reading three very different books. They're just scattered throughout the house. And in my car. Along with a few others. Let me give you some idea of what I mean:
Books piled on my coffee table
Books stacked on the arm of my couch
Books on the edge of my computer desk
Book open (to save my place) on my dresser
As you can see, I've checked out several cookbooks from the library, as cooking is next to reading as my second favorite hobby. I will discuss them in later posts, but only if they warrant it!
The only three books I actually claim to be reading at the moment are:
The Tenth Muse: My Life in Food by Judith Jones
Traveling with Pomegranates: A Mother-Daughter Story by Sue Monk Kidd & Ann Kidd Taylor
Evil at Heart by Chelsea Cain
Quite a random selection, if I do say so myself. All amazing, in ways that make them worlds apart. Jones is a literary name-dropping fest; Kidd & Taylor's, part memoir, part academic research paper; and Cain's is just thrilling fun (and okay -- nightmare-inducing). My final thoughts will be posted as I (finally) finish them.
Which may be a few days, considering that I'm also cramming for a Praxis II test this weekend on English Language & Literature: Pedagogy. Plot summaries & character lists for approximately 40 classic pieces of literature are printed and waiting for me to study them...
I'm sure there will be those who don't agree, but in my opinion Patricia Cornwell has finally done it again. She has returned to the Kay Scarpetta the world fell in love with in Postmortem twenty years ago. In the mid-200os, Cornwell seemed to get out of the groove of good mystery writing, penning Scarpetta novels such as Trace (2004) and Book of the Dead (2007) to mixed reviews. It seemed for years after Benton Wesley's death and reappearance, all Cornwell could harp on was how angry Scarpetta was at him for doing such a thing to her. That, coupled with some experimental writing gone bad (switching point-of-view, using both first- and third-person, etc.) has actually turned some readers away from the series.
In the latest Scarpetta novel, The Scarpetta Factor, there is once again a glimpse of the old Dr. Kay Scarpetta, who performs autopsies in a ritual to honor the dead. This time she is working in New York City doing pro bono work and on hiatus from her current paid position in Massachusetts. Benton also works in both Massachusetts and NYC, and believe it or not, the two of them are finally happy in their marriage. Notice I didn't say they were happy... just that they were happy together. In an ode to the profession, Cornwell describes the inscriptions found in the lobby of the New York City Medical Examiner's Office:
Carved in marble above the reception desk was Tacent colloquia. Effugiat risus. Hic locus est ubi mors gaudet succurrere vitae. Let conversations cease. Let laughter depart. This is the place where death delights to help the living. Music sounded from a radio on the floor behind the desk, the Eagles playing "Hotel California." Filene, one of the security guards, had decided that an empty lobby was hers to fill with what she called her tunes. ". . . You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave," Filene softly sang along, oblivious to the irony.
Scarpetta is back to solving the mysteries of the dead in this latest effort from Cornwell. Also a consultant for CNN, Scarpetta is carving a name for herself with the American public. The "Scarpetta Factor" is the angle Scarpetta provides on the air regarding highly publicized murder cases.
Here's an interview with Patricia Cornwell on the set of CNN, where Scarpetta lends her expertise in the novel:
An interesting whodunnit follows, with some weaving into the story from the main characters' past lives. Benton is tortured by things that happened long ago in his FBI years, and Lucy has relationship problems with the assistant DA from a previous novel but manages to get a lot of technology-speak into the storyline, as well. Marino is back, and in my opinion more loveable than ever, after Cornwell almost ruined his character with an attack on Scarpetta a couple of novels ago.
There are places where Cornwell includes a bit too much technical talk (and relies on technology to drive the slightly-difficult-to-swallow plot in some instances). In the end, though, Cornwell delivers what her readers (and me!) have been waiting years to see -- a heartfelt depiction of the characters we love, involved in a fast-paced story replete with evil sociopaths, twists, and turns.
I HAVE finished one book in the past week. However, I have started and stopped many more than that. After a serious case of reading ADHD, I've finally (maybe) settled down. During my ADHD period, I picked up and started no fewer than 5 or 6 different books. None of them held my attention long enough to really give them the concentration they deserve. Thus, they were abandoned. A few from the "just couldn't do it -- maybe later" list:
1)Secrets to Happiness by Sarah Dunn: I read her novel The Big Love, but I recall feeling much the same way... As though it didn't really go anywhere, and wherever it did go, it wasn't very far. In this newest novel, Dunn set forth to tell the tale of some -- let's just say it -- overall unlikeable characters. Holly, the main character, is an uptight writer who seems a bit holier-than-thou, yet is sleeping with a 20-year-old. Her best friend, cheating on her husband with reckless abandon, despite their infant son. Her writing partner, a dried-up, has-been who feels he just DESERVES better than the show they're currently writing for. I gave it about 150 pages before giving up. A valiant effort, if you ask me.
For a positive review from someone who actually read Dunn's entire book, see the New York Timesbook review of Secrets to Happiness.
2) You Better Not Cry: Stories for Christmas by Augusten Burroughs: I always forget. I don't really like Burroughs or his writing. Running with Scissors (both the novel and the film based on it) was endlessly entertaining, if almost macabre in its subject matter. Everything past that (Dry(2003), Magical Thinking (2003), and Possible Side Effects (2006)) was depressing, dark (but not darkly funny), and virtually unreadable. I think my biggest mistake is sometimes, in the midst of library browsing, mixing up Burroughs with one of my favorite writers, David Sedaris. Sedaris is dark, yes, and sometimes even depressing. But he is always an excellent storyteller, while Burroughs simply makes me want to punch him. Oh, and he's not funny. The audiobook version of You Better Not Cry (unfortunately read by Burroughs himself) got ejected from my CD player after five minutes in. He began by talking about stacking metal folding chairs and his anxiety over "not knowing how to do this properly" as a child. Really? Where are you when I need you, David Sedaris?!?
For a different take on his memoir, read Augusten Burroughs' interview about the book with TIME magazine.
3) The Buffalo Soldier by Chris Bohjalian: I have nothing bad to say about this book. I've loved everything ever written by Bohjalian, and I expect nothing less from this novel. But I just can't get into a novel right at this moment whose inside cover says: "....and it is they who introduce him to the history of the buffalo soldiers -- African-American cavalry troopers whose reputation for integrity, honor, and personal responsibility inspires the child." I keep telling myself it's NOT going to be about soldiers or war, but I can't get past it. Not only that, but (don't tell anyone) I don't really like history. I know. It's terrible. But true. Eventually, though, I will read what I'm sure is an excellent novel.
Part book review, part interview, check out BookPage.com's article on The Buffalo Soldier from its publication year in 2002. Also offers proof positive that this book is NOT about soldiers or war & I'm officially off my rocker if I continue to perpetuate that myth each time I pull the book off by shelves!
4) The Little Lady Agency by Hester Browne: I'm about 30-40 pages into this book, and ostensibly abandoned it only to read another book (mystery by Patricia Cornwell!). However, I've found it hard to pick it back up... Like my aversion to history, I also have a slight aversion to novels from the UK. Don't get me wrong -- Tana French, Maeve Binchy, & Helen Fielding are all beloved authors in my mind. But all in all, I don't generally gravitate towards novels set in the UK. That being said, I can't argue that I'll never return to Browne's novel. I'm sure I will at some point in time. For ADHD week? It gets shelved.
Here is an interview with author Hester Browne about how she began writing The Little Lady Agency & its evolution into a series:
5) Feather Crowns by Bobbie Ann Mason: Wow. I'm really starting to notice a pattern in my abandoned reading list. While Mason's novel is not about history, it is one of my other aversions related to history -- the historical novel. It's merits will eventually outweigh its negatives. It's set in the south, it's about a woman giving birth to one of the country's first quintuplets, and it's written by Bobbie Ann Mason. You can't beat a southern female author writing about a southern woman. I will return to it some late night when I have finished all of my library books and can't find a mystery novel on my shelves. I'm sure after completing it, the novel will be one of my favorites. Until then, historical fiction = not reading.
6) How the Other Half Hamptons by Jasmin Rosemberg: Chick lit a la Carrie Bradshaw but for real women. That's how I interpreted Rosemberg's novel would read. Her biography on the back cover tells readers that "as a New York Post Hamptons columnist, [she] chronicled her own experience as a shareholder in a sixteen-week series, and also covered Hamptons nightlife for the Post and red carpet events for Life & Style Weekly." I assumed her novel would be rich with insider details, while being slightly more relatable to the middle class chick I am. I was wrong; the prices people pay for a shared bed in a 10 bedroom mansion in the Hamptons is still three times my monthly rent. Thus, I found her story highly alien to me. That, coupled with unlikeable characters in uninteresting situations... Well, you get the idea. I may return to it on a summer day when I'm laying in the sun on a beach towel, but until then -- on the shelf.
Judge for yourself by reading the first chapter, published as an excerpt in USA Today.
Soon to come: review of a book I actually finished -- Patricia Cornwell's latest Scarpetta novel, The Scarpetta Factor.
