#94: The Uncommon Reader

The Uncommon Reader, by Alan Bennett

(North Kingstown, RI: BBC Audiobooks America, 2007)

Summary:
"In this deliciously funny novella that celebrates the pleasure of reading, the Uncommon Reader is none other than Her Majesty the Queen, who drifts accidentally into reading when her corgis stray into a mobile library parked at Buckingham Palace. She reads widely (J.R. Ackerley, Jean Genet, Ivy Compton Burnett, and the classics) and intelligently. Her reading naturally changes her world view and her relationship with people such as the oleaginous prime minister and his repellent advisers. She comes to question the prescribed order of the world, and loses patience with much that she has to do. In short, her reading is subversive. The consequence is, of course, surprising, mildly shocking and very funny. With the poignant and mischievous wit of The History Boys, England's best loved author revels in the power of literature to change even the most uncommon reader's life."

Opening Line:
"At Windsor it was the evening of the state banquet and as the president of France took his place beside Her Majesty, the royal family formed up behind and the procession slowly moved off and through into the Waterloo Chamber."

My Take: 
Very funny, likeable little book perfect for a long, tedious drive. I started an assignment in north central Neighboring State last week, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it. On one hand, it's lovely to have dinner with my family and sleep in my own bed every night, especially as the town in question is no Boston. The non-commuting consultants on site don't even have the relief and picturesque walking trails of a comfortable hotel to retreat to after hours, as I did at my last assignment; they're bunking in college dorms. I know there's no conveniently-located kitchen, though I suppose there may be mini-fridges in their rooms; I couldn't bear to ask about the bathroom facilities. Given all that, being home in the evenings with a cat at my feet and show tunes from my daughter's Pandora channels filling my ears isn't hard to take. Coming home, though, is another matter. No matter which route I take, it's a 90 minute drive, far enough that I leave home before anyone else is up in the morning and go more than halfway there in the dark. Not urban dark, where the storefronts and streetlamps and incessant traffic still provide enough light to read by, or even suburban dark, where you've at least got the unflattering purplish yellow sodium streetlight glare if you need to check a map. Nope, this 3 or 4 small, roll-the-sidewalks-up-at-9-pm small towns, separated by miles of pitch black, bottle-of-ink rural darkness. More often than not, the predawn mornings are blanketed with what weather forecasters call "patchy fog," which means no visual cues to tell you if you're just driving over a hill or about to plunge off the edge of the world.

While there's no way around the length of the commute -- my skyrocketing gas bill; the bleak, sleepy loneliness of the drive in; the speed with which bedtime comes if you get home after 6 and eat supper after 7 -- I've developed a routine to alleviate its tedium. Before work, I listen to Morning Edition for about 45 minutes and 3 different radio stations, stop for coffee at a Dunkin' Donuts that's just about at the halfway point, and then put some news and current events podcast or other on for the remainder of the drive there. On the way home, though, I pick something lighter and more strictly entertaining; making me laugh out loud is a plus, though mostly it just needs to be engaging and fast-paced enough to keep me from getting drowsy at a point in the day when my energy's already pretty low.  

An Uncommon Reader was perfect for the job. It's funny and well-worded, compelling enough to hold my attention without being so action-packed that if a noisy truck or complicated merge makes you miss a few lines, you're hopelessly lost. At several points, I found myself smiling fondly at Bennett's clever phrasings as one would over coffee with an old friend. (Certain excerpts reminded me of conversations with a particular friend I haven't seen in months, and chuckling even more at the knowledge that as someone even more stubbornly proud of her Irish heritage than I am, she'll be appalled that it's a story about a British monarch that prompts me to drop her a line.) And as a voracious reader myself, it felt like a vindication of sorts to enjoy a book all about the pleasures of reading and how what one reads can change you, with a main character who often has that familiar experience of having some dreary obligation to attend to when you'd really just rather be curled up at home with your cats (or in Her Majesty's case, corgis) and a good novel.

The only down sides I saw here were ones that probably can't be avoided in a novella. Call me nosy, but I kept wanting to know more: what was it, for example, about the experience of reading or the particular books she'd read that prompted the Queen's unexpected and unprecedented feelings of tender sympathy for the doddering Sir Claude? And what, exactly, were the dilemmas or alternatives she considered that lead to her climactic announcement at the book's end?

#75: The Book of Fires

The Book of Fires, by Jane Borodale

(New York: Viking, 2009)

Summary:

"It is 1752. Winter is approaching, and two secrets -- an unwanted pregnancy and a theft -- drive seventeen-year-old Agnes Trussel to run away from her home in rural Sussex. Lost and frightened as night descends on the menacing streets of London, she is drawn to a curious sign depicting a man holding a star. It is the home of Mr. J. Blacklock, a brooding fireworks maker who is grieving for his recently deceased wife. He hires Agnes as his apprentice, and as she learns to make rockets, portfies, and fiery rain, she slowly gains the laconic Blacklock's trust. He initiates her into his peculiar art and sparks in her a shared obsession for creating the most spectacular fireworks the world has ever seen.

"But her condition is becoming harder to conceal, and through it all, the clock is ticking -- for Agnes's secret will not stay hidden forever. Soon she meets Cornelius Soul, seller of gunpowder, and she conceives of a plan that could save her. But why does Blacklock so vehemently disapprove of Mr. Soul? And what is Blacklock hiding from her? Could he be on the brink of a discovery that will change pyrotechny forever? A summer storm is brewing -- but Agnes has no idea that her mysterious mentor has been watching her, and hatching plans of his own.

"The Book of Fires vividly evokes a dark bygone world and offers a masterful portrayal of a relationship as mysterious and tempestuous as any the Brontes imagined. Jane Borodale's portrait of 1750s London is unforgettable, from the grimy streets to the inner workings of a household where little is as it seems. Beautifully written, complex and layered, The Book of Fires is a captivating debut of fireworks, redemption, and the strange alchemy that will forever change the fortunes of a young woman once bound for ruin."

Opening Line:

"There is a regular rasp of a blade on a stone as he sharpens the knives."

My Take:

If I've read a few books lately that didn't quite live up to my expectations, I had the opposite experience here. I had only a short time to visit the library and stock up on books before my latest trip so I went through my list and grabbed about the first 8 I could find. Were I been home, this might have been one of those that stayed on the shelf untouched until it was due back ... as it was, I read almost everything I bring along as choices are limited, and I'm glad I did. Agnes is such an interesting narrator, the landscape she inhabits so unusual, and the central conflict -- will Blacklock discover her pregnancy and send her away? -- so well-crafted that I was sad for the story to end. Borodale manages to make the other characters, particularly Blacklock and the other 2 house servants, Mary Spurran and Mrs. Blight, both believable in their time and engaging for a contemporary reader. Likewise, the setting is sufficiently detailed that I felt like I could picture it without being so overly so that it lost me in the descriptions. I'll be on the lookout for other works by this author.

#62: The Wolves of Andover

The Wolves of Andover, by Kathleen Kent

New York: Reagan Arthur Books/ Little Brown and Company, 2010

 

Summary:

"In the harsh wilderness of colonial Massachusetts, Martha Allen is forced to take work as a servant in her cousin's home. Unwed and, at nineteen, considered by most a spinster, Martha locks wills with everyone around her -- including Thomas Carrier, the unusually tall and resolutely silent hired worker whose stubborn independence matches her own.

"There are whispers about Thomas's mysterious past and what role the taciturn 'giant' many have played in the English Civil War, which ended with the execution of King Charles I. As Martha comes to know him, she discovers a companion who respects her own outspoken nature and in whom she can confide the dark secrets of her youth. But in the rugged new world they inhabit, danger lurks both near and far. In London, King Charles II is conspiring with his lords to assemble a band of assassins to kill the man suspected of executing his father. Before long, they will arrive in New England to hunt down the man who cut off the head of a king. And at home, wolves -- in many forms -- are hungry for blood. As Thomas reveals to Martha his days as a soldier in England, she comes to see him as a kindred spirit, even as she realizes his secret will place her, and her loved ones, in danger."

Opening Line:

"The woman worked her way out of the crowd, grabbing Cromwell by the cloak, and pulled at it until he turned to face her."

My Take:

OK, something about that opening line just reminds me more than a little of Ellen in the first pages of Pillars of the Earth. That said ...

Slightly slow to draw me in (the colonial era isn't usually my favorite for historical fiction) but a compelling story once it did. Loved Martha's character and what we get to know of Thomas, who remains more than a bit of a cipher even at the end. Daniel, husband of Martha's cousin Patience and head of the household where Martha and Thomas work, turns out to have a few surprises up his own sleeve, too. Engaging and substantive read.   

#57: A Proper Education for Girls

A Proper Education for Girls, by Elaine di Rollo  

(New York: Crown Publishing, 2009)

Summary:
"Not since the Brontës have we seen the likes of the Talbot sisters, plucky peach growers with a peculiar upbringing and a flair for subversion. Set in England and India in the mutinous year of 1857, A Proper Education for Girls tells the story of Alice and Lilian Talbot, twins separated for the first time in their lives by their martinet father. After an affair comes to a tragic end, Lilian is banished from the Talbot mansion and married off to a sickly missionary in India. Unwilling to play the part of the demure missionary wife, beautiful, tomboyish Lilian quickly takes advantage of her husband’s hypochondria and her newfound freedom as a British expatriate, tramping off into the jungle to paint pictures of the indigenous flora and secretly learning the language and customs of her adopted homeland.

"Meanwhile, the plain but sharp-witted Alice remains on her father’s isolated estate, serving as curator to his strange and vast Collection under the watchful eye of the malevolent Dr. Cattermole. The Collection, which has taken over every inch of the rambling estate, is the essence of Victorian England -- antiquated and ingenious, austere and excessive. Twelve perfectly synchronized grandfather clocks stand at attention at the bottom of a staircase. Botanical specimens have overrun the conservatory, turning the room into a tropical greenhouse. Forgotten houseguests roam amid fossilized sea creatures, display cases of Greek pottery, and mechanical contraptions. A peach tree, inherited from their mother and planted in a wheelbarrow for portability, is a constant reminder of Lilian’s absence.

"Though Mr. Talbot has cut off all communication between the sisters, a cryptic letter from Lilian manages to slip through, and hidden in the envelope is a puzzling photograph of a tiger hunt. Alice sets about cracking the code in the letter, finding an unlikely ally in Mr. Blake, the photographer hired to document the Collection. While Mr. Talbot is absorbed in the eccentric but seemingly benign Society for the Propagation of Useful and Interesting Knowledge, Alice plots her escape from both her oppressive father and Dr. Cattermole’s unspeakable plans for her future.

"Intrigue is rife in India as well, where Lilian continues to defy convention. Playing her many admirers off one another, she quietly works toward the goal of reuniting with her sister. But the violent onset of the Indian rebellion against British rule threatens to derail her plans. And back at the Talbot estate, the Society’s experiments are taking a menacing turn. Will the sisters' resourcefulness and profound devotion to each other be enough to save them? Capturing the Victorian era in all of its whimsy and horror, A Proper Education for Girls is a superb debut novel about the power of sisterhood."

 

Opening Line:

"Travelers unfamiliar with the countryside around the great house would come upon its boundary walls with some surprise." 

My Take:

Not usually my favorite era for historical fiction, but I enjoyed this one a lot more than I expected to -- probably because of the sisters' ingenuity at making very close call escapes from what could have been truly horrific circumstances. Worth a read.

#41: We Bought a Zoo

We Bought a Zoo: The Amazing True Story of a Young Family, a Broken Down Zoo, and the 200 Wild Animals That Change Their Lives Forever, by Benjamin Mee (New York: Weinstein Books, 2008)


Summary:
"In the market for a house and the adventure of a lifetime, Benjamin Mee decided to uproot his family and move them to an unlikely new home: a dilapidated zoo in the English countryside, complete with over 200 exotic animals. Mee, who specializes in animal behavior, had a dream to refurbish the zoo and run it as a family business. Naturally, friends and colleagues thought he was crazy.


"Mee's pipe dream became a reality in October 2006, when he and the rest of the Mee clan -- wife Katherine, son Milo (age six), daughter Ella (age four), brother Duncan, and Benjamin's seventy-six-year-old mother -- relocated to the Dartmoor Wildlife Park and met their new neighbors, including Solomon, an African lion and scourge of the local golf course; Zak, the elderly Alpha wolf, a benevolent dictator clinging to power; Ronnie, a Brazilian tapir, easily capable of killing a man but hopelessly wimpy; and Sovereign, a jaguar who had devised a long-term escape plan and implemented it.


"The grand reopening of the zoo was scheduled for spring, but there was 
much work to be done and none of it easy for these novice zookeepers. Tigers broke loose, money ran low, the staff grew skeptical, and family tensions reached a boiling point.


"Then tragedy struck, and the situation went from difficult to unimaginable. Katherine had a recurrence of a brain tumor, forcing Benjamin and his children to face the heartbreak of illness and the devastating loss of a wife and mother. But inspired by the memory of Katherine and the healing power of the incredible family of animals they had grown to love, Benjamin and his kids resolved to move forward. The Mee family opened the gates of the revitalized zoo in July 2007 to great success.


Brimming with energy and insight, We Bought a Zoo is a profoundly moving portrait of an ordinary family living in the most extraordinary circumstances."

Opening Line:
"Mum and I arrived as the new owners of Dartmoor Wildlife Park in Devon for the first time at around six o'clock on the evening of 20 October 2006, and stepped out of the car to the sound of wolves howling in the misty darkness."

My Take:
Do not confuse this book with the Matt Damon movie it inspired, which received mostly lukewarm reviews. The book's a bit on the warm fuzzy side, sure, but does offer some interesting insights into running a zoo ... and some beautiful passages on love, illness, and death as well.

#111: The Little Women Letters

The Little Women Letters, by Gabrielle Donnelly (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2011)

Summary:
"With her older sister planning a wedding and her younger sister preparing to launch a career on the stage, Lulu can't help but feel like the failure of the Atwater family. Lulu loves her sisters dearly and wants nothing but the best for them, but she finds herself stuck in a rut. When her mother sends her to look for some old family recipes in the attic, she stumbles across a collection of letters written by her great-great-grandmother Josephine March. Jo writes in detail about every aspect of her life: her older sister Meg's new home and family; her younger sister Amy's many admirers; the family's shared grief over losing Beth; and her own feelings towards a handsome young German. As Lulu delves deeper into the lives of the March sisters, she finds solace and guidance, but can her great-great-grandmother help Lulu find a place in a world so different from the one Jo knew?"

Opening Lines:
"Plumfield, October 1888.

Dearest Amy,

My daughter has arrived in this world, and bless the infant, she is the reddest and the squallingest baby you ever did see!"

My Take:
Middling to above-average in the grand scheme of new takes on old, beloved stories.

#80: The White Devil

The White Devil, by Justin Evans (New York: Harper, 2011)

Summary:
"The Harrow School is home to privileged adolescents known as much for their distinctive dress and traditions as for their arrogance and schoolboy cruelty. Seventeen-year-old Andrew Taylor is enrolled in the esteemed British institution by his father, who hopes that the school's discipline will put some distance between his son and his troubled past in the States.

"But trouble -- and danger -- seem to follow Andrew. When one of his schoolmates and friends dies mysteriously of a severe pulmonary illness, Andrew is blamed and is soon an outcast, spurned by nearly all his peers. And there is the pale, strange boy who begins to visit him at night. Either Andrew is losing his mind, or the house legend about his dormitory being haunted is true.

"When the school's poet-in-residence, Piers Fawkes, is commissioned to write a play about Byron, one of Harrow's most famous alumni, he casts Andrew in the title role. Andrew begins to discover uncanny links between himself and the renowned poet. In his loneliness and isolation, Andrew becomes obsessed with Lord Byron's story and the poet's status not only as a literary genius and infamous seducer but as a student at the very different Harrow of two centuries prior -- a place rife with violence, squalor, incurable diseases, and tormented love affairs.

"When frightening and tragic events from that long-ago past start to recur in Harrow's present, and when the dark and deadly specter by whom Andrew's been haunted seems to be all too real, Andrew is forced to solve a two-hundred-year-old literary mystery that threatens the lives of his friends and his teachers -- and, most terrifyingly, his own."

Opening Lines:
"Outside a cool evening awaited. The perspiration on his back and neck turned icy."

My Take:
Halfway through and still trying to decide. Got off to a slow start -- Gothic fiction isn't usually my thing -- but I do like stories set in school settings and it is picking up a bit. TBA.

(Later) Decent as those things go, but as I said, Gothic fiction isn't really my bag, and I don't know that this book was enough to win me over to the genre. Oh well; nothing wrong with expanding one's literary horizons.

As noted above, the book's opening is fairly unremarkable, with Andrew arriving at Harrow as a brand-new sixth-former (senior) feeling like he's stepped into a wholly alien world. The sole American at a British boarding school, and a rare transfer where most students begin as shells (seventh graders), Andrew does not make friends quickly -- not to mention that the rumors about his expulsion from his last school for drug use have crossed the pond with impressive speed. Only dorm-mate Theo Ryder is at all friendly or welcoming to Andrew, and within a few days, Theo is found dead. Contrary to the jacket blurb above, Andrew isn't blamed for Theo's death at this point, and the remaining residents of the Lot (Andrew's and formerly, Theo's house, or dorm) continue their studies, shaken but not really permanently changed.

Or so they think. What Andrew can't tell anyone at first, for fear of being deemed crazy and sent home, is that he not only found Theo's body ... he saw him die, strangled by a mysterious, white-haired boy who was there one moment and (without running away) simply gone the next. When the autopsy attributes Theo's death to a rare but non-contagious lung disease, he tries to put the vision from his mind. At the same time, Harrow's poet-in-residence and Lot's housemaster, Piers Fawkes, has been commissioned to write a play about Harrow's most famous alum, Lord Byron ... to whom Andrew bears an uncanny resemblance. Andrew is cast in the lead role, and begins to forge tentative, unlikely friendships with both Fawkes and the school's sole female student, headmaster's daughter Persephone Vine.

Unfortunately, the spectral white-haired boy doesn't give up that easily. Late one night, Andrew sees him a second time, when the boy leads him to a prefect's bathroom in the Harrow of yore, where a perplexed Andrew prevents him from being raped by a gang of older, larger students. Later, he recites a bizarre verse which Andrew learns (with the help of Fawkes and the school's archivist, Judith Kahn) comes from an obscure Jacobean tragedy performed at Harrow some 200 years earlier. This coincidence convinces the skeptical Fawkes that Andrew's ghost isn't just in his head, and the two become engrossed in discovering who he is and what he wants.

Until two more students fall ill, with symptoms similar to Theo's ... but which now, on closer examination, seem to indicate TB. This ratchets up the urgency and publicity of their search, especially as one of the students is Persephone.

From here on out, the book does get considerably more gripping and hard to put down. Though I'm not typically a fan of ghost stories, I did enjoy the climax and resolution of this one. If you like boarding school novels with a touch of the supernatural, give this one a try.

#64: The Pile of Stuff at the Bottom of the Stairs

The Pile of Stuff at the Bottom of the Stairs, by Christina Hopkinson (New York: Grand Central Publishing, 2011).

Summary:
"What do you hate most about the one you love? Mary Gilmour doesn't know whether it's his not quite reaching the laundry basket when he throws his dirty clothes at it (but doesn't ever walk over to finish the job) or the balled-up tissues he puts on the bedside table when he has a cold. Is it the way he never completely empties the dishwasher, leaving the 'difficult' items for her to put away, or the fact that she is responsible for all of the domestic tasks in the house just because she's only working part-time?

"Mother to two young boys, Mary knows how to get them to behave the way she wants. Now she's designing the spousal equivalent of a star chart, and every little thing her husband does wrong will go on it. Though Mary knows you're supposed to reward the good behavior rather than punish the bad, the rules for those in middle age are different than the rules for those not even in middle school . . .

"This is the novel for every woman who finds herself frustrated with something (or perhaps everything) her husband does. Harried and hilarious, Mary's trip beyond the breaking point will carry any reader through this wry, astute novel about marriage, motherhood, children, work, and above all, that ever-growing pile of clutter."

Opening Line:
"The solitary jigsaw piece sits in the corner of the living room, daring me to ignore it."

My Take:
I was about to say "add this one right under Sisterhood Everlasting on the list of 'books that turned out way better than they should have,'" but realized that wasn't quite accurate. Sisterhood was OK, even entertaining ... but this is basically just giving it the benefit of my rather low expectations. (The only prior non-young-adult novel of Brashares's I'd read was pretty darned boring, if I remember correctly, and the Sisterhood series up till now is an entertaining beach read or 2 with way too many sequels.)

Pile of Stuff ..., on the other hand, was a few cuts above your basic chick lit, mom flavor, story. This is due in large part to Hopkinson's well-honed gift for satire. When a friend-of-a-friend drops by unannounced and finds Mary's home not quite passing the white glove test, she offers to let her in on the secret, and presses a Post-It with a URL scribbled on it into Mary's palm as if it's a map to Ponce de Leon's elusive fountain. When Mary logs on, she finds a parody of the FlyLady web site that had me in stitches:

"Instead of the virtual magic I've been hoping for, I'm faced with one of the messiest looking web pages I've ever seen, with the exhortations, 'Declutter!,' 'A new program for home executives!' and 'Shiny happy sinks!' I am very confused. Is this really the life-saving secret that Alison has bestowed on me?

"I read on ... I force myself through the myriad exclamation marks to try to make sense of it all. The website tells, I finally discover, of a system by which your house will be spotless and permanently guest-ready, without you having to spend more than fifteen minutes a day on it. Florid testimonials tell of lives and homes transformed by the mere application of the 'dance of disposal,' where the home executive will put on a three-minute song and throw away as many things as she can in its duration. Others speak of the elimination of their 'toxic spot,' which sounds like something I haven't done since I had adolescent acne. All write eulogies as to the transformative powers of the creation of a 'Golden Notebook,' a ring-binder of to-do lists, menu plans and household zones. Doris Lessing, I think, must be so proud.

"I read on, hoping to discover the secret of how you can inspire those that you share your house with to take as much interest in purging household junk as you do, while at the same time wondering why the women behind this site didn't think to perhaps try to declutter some of the excessive exclamation marks littering the prose. My eyes are glazing over just thinking about these commands to enjoy the daily cleaning of my toilet bowl and to have fun while throwing out junk. ...

"But still, I concede, can all these women (and they are all women) be so wrong? ... Before I can change my mind, I sign up for email reminders of how to 'Work the System!' and resolve to give the 'Clutter NoNo!' system of home-executive efficiency a week's trial.

"Day 1. By the time I check my messages at work on Monday morning I have 39 emails from my new friends at ClutterNoNo. I'm confused before I've even read them. How am I supposed to find time to wade through the household detritus if I have to spend all my time wading through my inbox?

"I soon discover that I'm falling woefully behind. I should have set my alarm to get up half an hour before the rest of my family in order to get that toilet bowl really sparkly, as well as making sure that I have put on a 'face' -- by which I think they mean makeup, rather than just pulling one. ...

"Day 2. The house doesn't look much better than it did before. I find I am spending so much time trying to create a nice-looking Golden Notebook that I don't have time to get myself looking 'nice 'n' pretty' for the day. ...

"Day 3. What I am asked to do: fertilize the plants, write outstanding thank-you notes, buy the groceries, balance my checkbook and change dead lightbulbs in the cooker hood. I must tell each member of my family that I love them, and one thing that I think is awesome about their personalities. I must tell myself that I love me, and find five things that I think are awesome about my personality.

"What I actually do: scream.

"Stop it, stop it, stop! You stupid idiotic women! Leave me alone, stop hassling me, why are you on at me all day long? For Christ's sake, stop nagging. Does it really matter if I haven't shampooed the carpet on a Thursday? You're all flaming crazy. ...

"I find the unsubscribe button and then declutter my email inbox of every single last reminder, all 103 of them, from that source of 1950s pinny-wearing nonsense. I breathe out. They're right about one thing, those Clutter NoNo ladies, it does feel wonderful to expunge unwanted crap."

(OK, clearly someone needs to explain digest format to our heroine, but still.)

Then there's Mitzi, Mary's old college friend, now frenemy, who's probably the funniest and most over-the-top character in the book. She's the type who's married a man rich and successful enough that they have not one but two showplace homes, each furnished in oh-so-original, environmentally friendly, perfect taste. She takes great pride in being an at-home mom to four perfectly-coiffed, private-schooled children -- Molyneux, Mahalia, Merle, and Milburn -- despite having a staff of nannies et al. to swoop in whenever anything messy or unfun needs doing. Complains Mary's husband, Joel, at the prospect of a weekend at Mitzi and Michael's country home, "'[W]e'll be expected to way lyrical about ... the wonderful original features and aren't you clever to have found flagstones made from the bones of real organic orphans, and a bath hand-knitted by a thousand Hindu priests and filled with holy water from the river Ganges.'" Yes, said country home visit does finally happen, and proves to be a turning point in the book, in a manner both hilarious and sweet.

Overall, a pleasant surprise to have what initially seemed like someone's admittedly funny blog have so much insight and heart to it.

#61: The Pillars of the Earth

The Pillars of the Earth, by Ken Follett (New York: New American Library, 1989).

Summary:
"Set in the turbulent times of twelfth-century England when civil war, famine, religious strife and battles over royal succession tore lives and families apart, The Pillars of the Earth tells the story of the building of a magnificent cathedral.

"Against this richly imagined backdrop, filled with intrigue and treachery, Ken Follett draws the reader irresistibly into a wonderful epic of family drama, violent conflict, and unswerving ambition. From humble stonemason to imperious monarch, the dreams, labours and loves of his characters come vividly to life. The Pillars of the Earth is, without a doubt, a masterpiece -- and has proved to be one of the most popular books of our time." -from the back cover of my paperback copy

"Set during the reign of King Stephen and the Anarchy, The Pillars of the Earth hangs a rich and intricately woven tapestry of intrigue and conspiracy over a solid foundation of historical events to explore topics as diverse as medieval architecture, civil war, secular/ religious conflicts, and shifting political loyalties.

"Principal characters include Tom Builder, a stonemason; Philip, Prior of Kingsbridge; and Archdeadon Waleran Bigod. The historical King Stephen is variously abetted and attacked by characters both real and fictional, including his cousin and rival Empress Maud; Sir Percy Hamleigh and his son William Hamleigh; the prior Earl of Shiring Bartholomew's daughter Aliena and son Richard; and Ellen with her son Jack." -from Wikipedia

Opening Line:
"The small boys came early to the hanging."

My Take:
This was the second of three books I took with me on vacation, and the last one I actually read. (Anna Karenina will just have to wait, which seems to be its fate; it still has a bookmark in it from a White Mountains resort, so this clearly isn't the first trip from which it's come home unread.)

Wow. Another sweeping, engaging saga that I got way more into than I'd expected to. I mean, really -- who expects to get totally absorbed in a story about the building of a cathedral in medieval England? Darn it, though, if Follett doesn't make the characters just complicated enough to both compel you on to find out what happens to them next, and keep you guessing. Prior Philip, head of the Kingsbridge monastery where the cathedral is to be built, was a pleasant surprise, character-wise -- probably the most interesting literary cleric I've come across. (Sorry, Father Ralph de Bricassart.) In the introduction, Follett calls him his only cheerfully celibate character, but he's a long way from being saintly; while he may not mind the whole lack of sex thing, he does tend toward both rigidity (who, me? Punny?) and pride. Tom Builder is likewise a good character (fascinating how the author makes a twelfth-century mason seem accessible to twenty-first-century readers by establishing, in the first chapter, that his first wife, Agnes, is his soul mate, and that he truly cherishes not just her but their children), and deposed earl's daughter cum wool merchant Aliena (it's a long road, but hey, it's a long book), forgive the anachronism, Rocks. Out.

Follett's even gone and created one of the most despicable, love-to-hate-him villains I've seen in a while: William Hamleigh, son of the nobleman who insinuates himself into the earldom after King Stephen takes it away from Aliena's father, Bartholomew. A brutish, violent bully who's secretly terrified of the priests and his hideous mother (apparently the miniseries, which I haven't yet seen, hints at some incest here -- ew!), and can get aroused only when he's beating the woman unlucky enough to be in his company, William's definitely an exception to the nuanced-character comment above, but it's still so much fun to despise him and to wait for his inevitable comeuppance.

Full disclosure: I'm neither a builder nor an architect, and some of these details didn't really interest me much. I was happy enough to read about the revelations that come to Jack when he travels through France and Spain in search of a) his mysterious, dead father's past, and/or b) peace from his tortured, seemingly impossible love for Aliena, and sees how differently these places have approached cathedral architecture. And the build-a-defensive-wall-in-a-hurry scenes, well, those were as much adventures (with a hint of the Redwall series I used to read with Twig when she was younger) as they were about building. But some of the more nitty-gritty, how this part gets done passages read, well, like a homebuilders' manual, and I found myself skimming over them to see what happened next. Fortunately, I managed not to miss any important plot developments this way (I think).

All right, an overdue post meets an overdue bedtime. More soon.

#56: Untold Story

Untold Story, by Monica Ali (New York: Scribner, 2011).

Summary:
"When Princess Diana died in Paris's Alma tunnel, she was thirty-seven years old. Had she lived, she would turn fifty on July 1, 2011. Who would the beloved icon be if she were alive today? What would she be doing? And where? ... Monica Ali has imagined a different fate for Diana in her spectacular new novel, Untold Story.

"Diana's life and marriage were both fairy tale and nightmare rolled into one. Adored by millions, she suffered rejection, heartbreak, and betrayal. Surrounded by glamour and glitz and the constant attention of the press, she fought to carve a meaningful role for herself in helping the needy and dispossessed. The contradiction and pressures of her situation fueled her increasingly reckless behavior, but her stature and her connection with her public never ceased to grow. If Diana had lived, would she ever have found peace and happiness, or would the curse of fame always have been too great?

"Fast forward a decade after the (averted) Paris tragedy, and an Englishwoman named Lydia is living in a small, nondescript town somewhere in the American Midwest. She has a circle of friends: one owns a dress shop; one is a realtor; another is a frenzied stay-at-home mom. Lydia works at an animal shelter and swims a lot. Her lover, who adores her, feels she won't let him know her. Who is she?

"Untold Story is about the cost of celebrity, the meaning of identity, and the possibility -- or impossibility -- of reinventing a life. Ali's fictional princess is beautiful, intrepid, and resourceful and has established a fragile peace. And then the past threatens to destroy her new life. Ali has created a riveting new novel inspired by the cultural icon she calls 'a gorgeous bundle of trouble.'"

Opening Lines:
"Some stories are never meant to be told. Some can only be told as fairy tales."

My Take:
This was a happy accident. Not a day after I'd first heard about this book in an NPR review -- I hadn't even gotten around to adding it to my "wanna read" list -- I went to the library and found three brand-new copies on the new fiction list. All three are checked out now, one to me -- so I guess I'm glad I got it when I did. We'll see if it's worth the bother.

(more than a month later) I've said this before, but in a word (or a grunt), meh. Intriguing concept in theory, but pretty darned boring in its implementation. Perhaps the whole point of the book is that Lydia's got the lid clamped down on her infamous past so tightly that no one can get close enough to see the person she's trying to be and life she's trying to have now, but unfortunately ... the reader really can't get close enough to care about her, either. Unless you're one of those folks -- I know there are or were scads out there, though I don't know any -- who really had a Princess Diana fetish, don't waste your time.

#42: Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason

Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, by Helen Fielding (New York: Penguin, 1999).

Summary:
"In the phenomenally popular Bridget Jones's Diary, which spent 17 weeks on The New York Times best-seller list, Helen Fielding created the voice of an unforgettable young woman. Bridget's hilarious candor captured the hearts of readers around the world.

"Taking up where the Diary left off, The Edge of Reason follows the next year in Bridget's life. Over the months, she juggles her love for Mark Darcy, advice from her friends and rivalry with the willowy Rebecca, who is slyly pursuing Mark. Bridget's arsenal of self-help books reminds her to be an 'assured, receptive, responsive woman of substance.' But Chardonnay and chocolate are much more accessible.

"Although Bridget Jones has been widely imitated no other's work can match her off-beat charm. Veteran narrator Barbara Rosenblat, who won an Audie Award for her performance of Bridget Jones's Diary, adds a special zest to the whirlwind year."

Opening Line:
"7:15 a.m. Hurrah! The wilderness years are over."

My Take:
To quote our intrepid narrator, GAH! I checked the audiobook version of this one out over the weekend, as I had a long-ish solo road trip to make and wanted something light to enjoy on the way. I've found through experience that just as not all films lend themselves equally well to the drive-in, not all books lend themselves well to being enjoyed on CD, especially if you're in the car. I wanted something engaging enough to a) pass the time, and b) keep me from getting too stressed out about the interview I was driving to, but not so complex that I'd be irreparably lost if a big, noisy truck passed by at an inopportune time.

Let's just say that the original Bridget Jones's Diary, which I read several years back and really enjoyed, would have fit the bill perfectly. While Edge of Reason did make a good road trip book, that's only because it kept me from indulging my strong desire to chuck the book across the room in disgust. I just read an Amazon review suggesting that this book parallels Persuasion the way BJD did Pride and Prejudice, and perhaps if I'd read Persuasion, I'd have enjoyed this one more. Somehow, though, I kinda doubt it.

Admittedly, sequels are tricky. The author needs to keep the characters true enough to what she created in the first book to be recognizable, yet make them grow or change enough to give the reader something new to enjoy and wonder about. Fielding manages the first here, but not the second. The constant obsessing over weight (which, Bridget's oh-so-slimming sojourn in a Thai prison notwithstanding, fluctuates between 129 and 131 pounds -- boo bleeping hoo), counting of cigarettes and alcoholic drinks, and -- gaah! -- self-interruptions may have been endearing in the first book, but wears really thin here. There are funny moments and characters, sure; I think everyone's known a boyfriend-poaching Rebecca or Worst. Boss. Ever. Richard Finch type, and Fielding's versions are so over-the-top as to make our own problems look pretty darned manageable by comparison. And yes, I laughed/groaned at the Thai holiday gone horribly wrong, the not-what-it-looks-like naked Filipino boy Bridget finds in Mark's bed on her first visit to his home, and the results of her CWI (card-writing while intoxicated) ordeal. Bottom line, though, this isn't enough to make up for the irritating light in which Bridget and her two BFFs come off. Sure, I finished the last disc even after I'd arrived home; I knew from the get-go Bridget and Mark would get back together, and had to find out how ... I just wasn't quite sure why.

#31: Ordinary Thunderstorms

Ordinary Thunderstorms, by William Boyd (New York: HarperCollins, 2010).

Summary:
"One May evening in London, Adam Kindred, a young climatologist in town for a job interview, is feeling good about the future as he sits down for a meal at a little Italian bistro. He strikes up a conversation with a solitary diner at the next table, who leaves soon afterward. With horrifying speed, this chance encounter leads to a series of malign accidents, through which Adam loses everything -- home, family, friends, job, reputation, passport, credit cards, cell phone -- never to get them back.

"The police are searching for him. There is a reward for his capture. A hired killer is stalking him. He is alone and anonymous in a huge, pitiless, modern city. Adam has nowhere to go but down -- underground. He decides to join that vast array of the disappeared and the missing who throng London's lowest levels as he tries to figure out what to do with his life and struggles to understand the forces that have made it unravel so spectacularly. Adam's quest will take him all along the river Thames, from affluent Chelsea to the gritty East End, and on the way he will encounter all manner of London's denizens -- aristocrats, prostitutes, evangelists, and policewomen -- and version after new version of himself.

"Ordinary Thunderstorms, William Boyd's electric follow-up to his award-winning Restless, is a profound and gripping novel about the fragility of social identity, the corruption at the heart of big business, and the secrets that lie hidden in the filthy underbelly of every city."

Opening Line:
"Let us start with the river -- all things begin with the river and we shall probably end there, no doubt -- but let's wait and see how we go."

My Take:
Wow! For some reason, I had a hard time getting around to starting this one, even though it's been on my reading list for nearly a year and on my library loaners shelf more than once before. Then yesterday I had a bad day (ah, the ups and downs of unemployment), polished it off in a few hours ... and man, Boyd really knocks this one out of the park.

As the jacket blurb above suggests, Ordinary Thunderstorms is most certainly a page turner. There's mystery, espionage, corporate malfeasance, a halfway-decent riches-to-rags story, and even a glimmer of a romance that manages to neither seem forced nor dominate the novel from the time it's introduced (both big peeves of mine, if that wasn't already obvious). Adam is compelling and makes you want to root for him largely because he's not perfect; he makes a few colossally stupid blunders early on in the novel (granted, if he hadn't, there wouldn't be much of a story here), and we learn that a spontaneous, unthinking fling with a grad student cost him both his last job and his marriage.

The supporting cast is likewise fun to watch and follow, even if it's more often than not in a can't look away, train wreck sort of way. With the exception of Rita, the marine police officer who unknowingly comes this close to Adam more than once before becoming obsessed with why the higher-ups suddenly released one of her highly-armed collars; and Philip Wang, the doctor/ pharmaceutical researcher whose murder Adam stumbles on in Chapter 1; they range from unsettling to sketchy to downright scary. There's Ingram, head of the company for which Wang had worked, who seems to have it made ... except for the growing realization that it's not he who's really calling the shots, and the suspicion that his mysterious ailments may be more than stress. There's Mhouse, the illiterate prostitute who laces her young son's meals with rum and Diazepam so he'll stay asleep when she goes out to work. Most ickily, there's Jonjo, the highly-trained ex-soldier who makes quite a comfortable living freelancing at what he does best, and whose sole redeeming quality seems to be that at least he loves his dog.

On top of being a darned good story, Ordinary Thunderstorms also has a lot going on between the lines. It's no accident that Adam is (or was) a climatologist by training: a man who made a living seeding clouds, demonstrating man's power to alter even the most elemental of forces. Throughout the novel, he goes from being someone who controls the weather (as his grad student, the aptly-named Fairfield Springer, observes just before their assignation, "It's like you're playing god,") to someone who struggles to control even the most basic aspects of his own life. The reader comes to realize, as the story unfolds, that the seemingly-random events that make Adam's life fall apart are, in fact, like the clouds he once seeded in his lab: the result of innumerable, interrelated human actions. Though hungry, penniless, and in fear for his life, Adam rejects the idea of turning himself into the police because he knows in doing so, he'd give up what little control he still has. Likewise, in their own ways, Ingram, Rita, Mhouse, and Jonjo all struggle (with varying degrees of success) to carve out patches of autonomy and dignity in a world where storms and uncertainties far beyond their control seem constantly at work.

Yeah, I guess I kinda liked this book -- that, and maybe I'm vicarously expounding on behalf of my daughter, who finished the ELA tests at school today. (Good thing no one's grading my blog, eh? I'd settle for someone reading it.)

NO THANKS: Wolf Hall

Wolf Hall, by Hilary Mantel (New York: Henry Holt and Co., 2009).

Summary:
"In the ruthless arena of King Henry VIII's court, only one man dares gamble his life to win the king's favor and ascend to the heights of political power.

"England is a heartbeat from disaster. If the king dies without a male heir, the country could be destroyed by civil war. Henry VIII wants to annul his marriage of twenty years and marry Anne Boleyn. The pope and Catholic Europe oppose him. The king's quest for freedom destroys his advisor, the brilliant Cardinal Wolsey, and creates a year-long power struggle between the Church and the Crown.

"Into this impasse steps Thomas Cromwell, a wholly original man, both a charmer and a bully, an idealist and an opportunist, astute in reading people and a demon of energy. Cromwell is a consummate politician, hardened by years abroad and his personal losses. Implacable in his ambition and self-taught -- it is said that he can recite the entire New Testament from memory, knows Europe's major languages, and speaks poetry freely -- Cromwell will soon become the country's most powerful figure after Henry. When Henry pursues his desire to marry Anne Boleyn, it is Cromwell who breaks the deadlock and allows the king his heart's desire. But Henry is volatile: one day tender, one day murderous. Cromwell helps him break the opposition -- Thomas More, 'the man for all seasons'; Katherine the queen; his daughter the princess Mary -- but what will be the price of his triumph?"

Opening Lines:
"'So now get up.'
"Felled, dazed, silent, he has fallen; knocked full length on the cobbles of the yard."

My Take:
Gave up somewhere between a third and halfway through this book, when I realized I'd been plodding through it for almost 2 weeks because I Just. Wasn't. Interested. in reading it when I had free time in the evenings. I didn't hate it or want to chuck it across the room or anything -- it just wasn't particularly gripping. Slow-moving and sometimes confusing, the latter compounded by the author's tendency to shift from the first to the third person out of nowhere and have lots of musings and conversations go on just referring to "he" when that could be any one of several characters. Oh well.

#25: Major Pettigrew's Last Stand

Major Pettigrew's Last Stand, by Helen Simonson (New York: Random House, 2010).

Summary:
"You are about to travel to Edgecombe St. Mary, a small village in the English countryside filled with rolling hills, thatched cottages, and a cast of characters both hilariously original and as familiar as the members of your own family. Among them is Major Ernest Pettigrew (retired), the unlikely hero of Helen Simonson's wondrous debut. Wry, courtly, opinionated, and completely endearing, Major Pettigrew is one of the most indelible characters in contemporary fiction, and from the very first page of this remarkable novel, he will steal your heart.

"The Major leads a quiet life valuing the proper things that Englishmen have lived by for generations: honor, duty, decorum, and a properly brewed cup of tea. But then his brother's death sparks an unexpected friendship with Mrs. Jasmina Ali, the Pakistani shopkeeper from the village. Drawn together by their shared love of literature and the loss of their respective spouses, the Major and Mrs. Ali soon find their friendship blossoming into something more. But village society insists on embracing him as the quintessential local and regarding her as the permanent foreigner. Can their relationship survive the risks one takes when pursuing happiness in the face of culture and tradition?"

Opening Line:
"Major Pettigrew was still upset about the phone call from his brother's wife and so he answered the doorbell without thinking."

My Take:
A lovely, gentle love story that also happens to have a lot to say about friendship, integrity, family, and culture. Part of me wants to see a movie made out of this one; part of me thinks the big studios would just ruin it. Very satisfying story that I think I'll be buying several gift copies of.

#35 - Little Bee

Wow. Little Bee (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2009), by Chris Cleave, was awesome. Not in the flip, synonym-for-"cool" way the word's come to be used since, oh, the 1980s, but in the classic, "stunning, sobering, worthy of awe" sense.

Summary (from Booklist Review): "Little Bee, smart and stoic, knows two people in England, Andrew and Sarah, journalists she chanced upon on a Nigerian beach after fleeing a massacre in her village, one grisly outbreak in an off-the-radar oil war. After sneaking into England and escaping a rural immigration removal center, she arrives at Andrew and Sarah's London suburb home only to find that the violence that haunts her has also poisoned them. In an unnerving blend of dread, wit, and beauty, Cleave slowly and arrestingly excavates the full extent of the horror that binds Little Bee and Sarah together. A columnist for the Guardian, Cleave earned fame and notoriety when his first book, Incendiary, a tale about a terrorist attack on London, was published on the very day London was bombed in July 2005. His second ensnaring, eviscerating novel charms the reader with ravishing descriptions, sly humor, and the poignant improvisations of Sarah's Batman-costumed young son, then launches devastating attacks in the form of Little Bee's elegantly phrased insights into the massive failure of compassion in the world of refugees. Cleave is a nerves-of-steel storyteller of stealthy power, and this is a novel as resplendent and menacing as life itself." -Donna Seaman

Opening line: "Most days I wish I was a British pound coin instead of an African girl."

My take: A beautiful, moving, and tremendously original story. As the less-than-descriptive jacket blurb suggests, "the magic is in how the story unfolds," so I'll try not to spoil it for you. Suffice it to say that at some point before the story opens, the English Sarah and the Nigerian Little Bee met on a Nigerian beach. Between that meeting and their unexpected reunion in London two years later, Sarah has lost a finger and her husband, the depressed and inscrutable Andrew, and Little Bee has lost her beloved big sister Nkiruka. How this all happens, and how Little Bee comes to ring Sarah's doorbell on the morning of Andrew's funeral, makes for a breathtaking and horrifying read. Don't miss this one.

#31 - When Will There Be Good News?

When Will There Be Good News, by Kate Atkinson (New York: Little, Brown, & Co., 2008) certainly wasn't perfect, but it definitely had more going for it than the last few books I've read.

Jacket summary: "On a hot summer day, Joanna Mason's family slowly wanders home along a country lane. A moment later, Joanna's life is changed forever. ... On a dark night thirty years later, ex-detective Jackson Brodie finds himself on a train that is both crowded and late. Lost in his thoughts, he suddenly hears a shocking sound. ... At the end of a long day, 16-year-old Reggie is looking forward to watching a little TV. Then a terrifying noise shatters her peaceful evening. Luckily, Reggie makes it a point to be prepared for an emergency. ... These three lives come together in unexpected and deeply thrilling ways in the latest novel from Kate Atkinson, the critically acclaimed author who Harlan Coben calls 'an absolute must-read.'"

My take: Interesting, likeable characters and an intriguing storyline make this book worth a read, though the plot occasionally crosses the line from mysterious to muddled and confusing. It's hard not to feel drawn to Joanna, the former child survivor of a horrendous crime, now grown into a successful, happily married doctor and mother in spite of it all, or to Reggie, her orphaned 16 year old mother's helper who's both a lost, innocent soul and wise beyond her years. Jackson Brodie, whose honest got-on-the-wrong train mistake is compounded exponentially by a freak accident, is a somewhat harder read, but perhaps he's supposed to be. The same, frankly, could be said for Louise, Jackson's "one that got away," who becomes entangled in all 3 of their lives when she volunteers to notify Joanna personally that her family's murderer has been released from prison. The resolution's a little neater than I usually like, but not nearly as bad as I've seen elsewhere, and certainly not veering off into "oh, come on, now" territory. Not one for the permanent shelves, but a good weekend read.

#19 - Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife

OK, folks -- lest you think I'm getting too full of myself with these highfalutin literary pretensions, I (ahem) almost forgot to mention another book I slipped onto a recent library stack: Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife, by Linda Berdoll (Naperville, IL: 2004). Yes, it's another continuation of Pride and Prejudice, which I swore I was done with; yes, it's more than a little on the steamy side; yes, the Amazon reviews were pretty darned dreadful.

Jacket summary: "This sexy, epic, hilarious, poignant and romantic sequel to Pride and Prejudice goes far beyond being a Jane Austen sequel. It's Tom Jones meets Jane Austen meets Georgiana, the Duchess of Devonshire, with essence of Scarlett O'Hara and the Wife of Bath thrown in.

Every woman wants to be Elizabeth Bennet Darcy -- beautiful, gracious, universally admired, strong, daring and outspoken -- a thoroughly modern woman in crinolines. And every woman will fall madly in love with Mr. Darcy -- tall, dark and handsome, a nobleman and a heartthrob whose virility is matched only by his utter devotion to his wife.

Their passion is consuming and idyllic-essentially, they can't keep their hands off each other-through a sweeping tale of adventure and misadventure, human folly and numerous mysteries of parentage.

The book was self-published in 1999, with more than 10,000 copies sold. Here is what some readers are saying about Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife: 'Pure pleasure...this book is so much fun I recommend it heartily.' 'Wow, Darcy! I could not put it down.' 'Tremendous-I didn't want it to end!'"

My own take: Poignant and hilarious may be stretching it a bit, but the book was most certainly sexy, and had enough funny moments to make me laugh at least as much as it made me blush. And I knew what I was getting into with the R-rated pieces; an old friend who adores P&P recommended this one, with the warning/ advertisement, "Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth have a lot of good sex." While I'll agree that the commentary on both parties' intimate endowments got a bit silly, they were almost made up with by one scene in which Elizabeth and Darcy are engaging in some pillow talk on the subject. In response to Darcy's remarking that his, er, estate is a bit larger than average, Elizabeth teases him, noting that she has no frame of reference, "Are you large enough to be put on display in Piccadilly?" OK, I've forgotten half the quote, and maybe you had to be there, but it was amusing.

In short, no, this isn't a book for Austen purists; if that's you, reading the back cover should clue you in straightaway. And the beginning is a lot stronger than the end, which tends to drag a bit. If you enjoy reinterpretations/ continuations of classic stories, and aren't a stickler for 100% accuracy, this will entertain you for a weekend or so.

#15 - Brideshead Revisited

All right, true confession time. The (for me) slower-than-usual pace of book bloggage this year probably has something to do with my being gainfully re-employed, true -- but only something. A large part, I fear, is this quixotic goal I ran up the flagpole, once upon early January, about using my speed-reading prowess for good and reading The Classics this year.

Well, gentle friends, it ain't gonna happen. Not as I'd imagined it, anyway. There's still plenty of literature that's, er, stood the test of time, and I do still plan to spend at least some of my time seeking it out in the library's wayback stacks, instead of just being led astray by all the new fiction I have to pass to get there (and yes, these are the bibliophile's equivalent of candy in the checkout line at the supermarket). But sometimes, you read a classic, and you aren't sure what to think: Was it significant in its time and place, but far less so now? Is it just plain the-emperor-has-no-clothes boring? Or do you Just Not Get It? Well, that's about what I thought of Brideshead Revisited: The Sacred and Profane Memories of Captain Charles Ryder, by Evelyn Waugh (Boston, 1999).

Summary: "Captain Charles Ryder, stationed at Brideshead, recalls his boyhood associations with the odd but charming members of an English noble family." That's all. Even the venerable library site couldn't find much more to say about it, I guess.

My slightly longer summary: We open with a fairly anemic frame story, set in the English countryside during WWII, in which the now-adult Captain Ryder is stationed in an army camp he recognizes as being near to or perhaps even on the grounds of Brideshead -- an old friend's family estate, which has since gone to seed. This leads him to remember his first visit to Brideshead years earlier. Back then, he was a college student recently befriended by Sebastian Flyte, a hard-drinking, teddy-bear-carrying, eccentric younger son of an upper-class family that, frankly, had seen better days. Somehow, even though it's not clear Ryder likes Sebastian or the others of their set all that much, he becomes a frequent guest at Brideshead, where he meets the rest of the Marchmain family: reclusive Bridey, the eldest son; earnest if plain youngest daughter Cordelia; and the lovely Julia. The Marchmains are Catholic, which is apparently a big deal for them, even though none save Mrs. Flyte attend Mass regularly, and Mr. Flyte has been living in Italy with a mistress for years.

Somehow, mostly off-camera, Sebastian descends into full-fledged alcoholism, which leads to his expulsion from university and (when they try to keep him from drink, though the rest of the family indulge in moderation) on-and-off estrangement from his family. Ryder carries a torch for the inscrutable Julia, which seems (ahem) interesting in light of her physical resemblance to brother Sebastian. However, she is promised and ultimately married to an aspiring politician, so he contents himself by marrying another classmate's sister, and building a fairly successful career producing architectural paintings of old British manor houses -- usually, because their owners are about to tear them down or sell them, and want some memento to hang on to. An unexpected shipboard reunion, coupled with nasty weather and an epidemic of seasickness, sees Ryder and Julia literally thrown together, consummating their attraction even though Ryder's seasick wife is in the cabin next door. Despite apparently being one another's true love, family pressures and good old-fashioned Catholic guilt make Julia decide at the last minute to remain with her less-than-appealing husband, although Ryder has no such qualms about leaving his own wife, Celia.

So, um, yeah -- I think I just didn't get it. I think this may fall into the "doesn't stand the test of time" camp, or at least, doesn't resonate with someone like me who's neither of that time and place nor particularly familiar with it. The reported closeness of Ryder and Sebastian's friendship (mostly evidenced by Ryder or Sebastian telling us what great friends they are, and by the frequency of Ryder's visits to Brideshead), coupled with Sebastian's flamboyance, initially seemed homoerotic to me, but I ultimately dismissed the thought; nothing ever comes of it, so perhaps this was just how you behaved as an upper-class Brit in the '20s and '30s. What I couldn't overlook, however, was that Sebastian was so darned unlikeable. Sure, I guess if you like that sort of thing, he might be one of those people who's great fun to party with, but I just couldn't get past wondering why on earth Ryder seemed so spellbound by him (or by Julia, for that matter). And Ryder, while not as actively obnoxious, wasn't particularly compelling or interesting, either.

In short, not a favorite of mine, and not something that will inspire me to seek out more of Waugh's work. Rent the DVD, to see if Jeremy Irons and John Gielgud can make it more interesting? Perhaps.

#104 - Lydia Bennet's Story

I knew it was good to last. Had me a good run of sorts with entertaining, best-seller type fiction (see The Pilot's Wife, Handle with Care, and Sing Them Home). Even got to feeling a bit less guilty about my sometime predilection for fluff when, after explaining my dilemma to a dear friend, she called me a book snob (really, it was a good thing).

And then I had to do it to myself. Much as I still find myself checking out Maeve Binchy and Ann Rivers Siddons books, even though I know either I've outgrown them or the author's become too repetitious even for me, I Can't. Seem. To. Resist. the Jane Austen fan fiction. The Independence of Miss Mary Bennet wasn't half-bad, but Mr. and Mrs. Darcy and now Lydia Bennet's Story, by Jane Odiwe (Sourcebooks, 2008) ... meh. Let's just say I wonder if these authors chose to riff on Pride and Prejudice simply because they hadn't enough gumption to invent worlds and characters of their own.

Obviously, this book purports to tell the tale of the youngest and probably least sympathetic Bennet sister, Lydia. You'd think, as such, that she'd be more likeable or at least more complex here than in Austen's original, but no such luck. Nope, Lydia's still a PITA, and not even a particularly funny or interesting one. For the first half of the book, she flirts, gossips, goes on about clothes and fashion, and seems concerned above all with showing off and impressing others. She accompanies a married (= respectable) friend, Harriet, to the seaside resort of Brighton for the sole purpose of ogling the soldiers who are encamped there. She quickly catches the eye of the oh-so-dandy Captain Trayton-Camfield of the prince's regiment, but soon finds that his kisses leave her cold and, um, he wants more than just kisses. Of course, who should swoop to her rescue but her old friend (and sister Lizzy's old beau) George Wickham. His kisses do not leave her cold, and he soon convinces her to run away with him to Scotland, where they'll be married. Mistaking good old garden variety lust for love, Lydia overlooks a few glaring red flags: Wickham's unseemly preoccupation with her money, their hasty departure from Brighton, the sudden change of their travel plans (ix-nay on Otland-scay; enter instead a cheap flat in an unfashionable London neighborhood), and the distinctly non-sudden wedding.

As P & P fans will no doubt recall, Mr. Darcy ultimately convinces Wickham to listen to reason (read: bribery) and marry Lydia, if only to preserve her parents' and sisters' reputations, but they don't exactly live happily ever after. Rumors about Wickham's extramarital activities seem to come from all corners, culminating in his "sister" (or so he told the loathesome Caroline Bingley) arriving at Netherfield (home of Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, the latter nee Jane Bennet) during a family party and making a scene straight out of Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate, demanding that those present produce Wickham.

Yes, Wickham is ultimately disposed of, and Lydia does find a happy ending -- but in such a contrived manner that it really felt tacked on. Mr. & Mrs. Darcy was no great shakes, either, but at least that had some titillating moments to offer. This one, though -- kinda like bad shellfish. I think I'm off the Austen fanfic for a while.

#90 - Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy

OK, so ... I do enjoy my non-fiction, but it's definitely slower going than a novel, and sometimes, I want something a little quicker and lighter. Ergo, I read Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy: Two Shall Become One, by Sharon Lathan (Sourcebooks Landmark, 2009) one afternoon last week, when I wasn't quite up for Built to Last.

In a word, yawn. I'm usually a fan of new spins on old stories; two of my all-time favorites are The Red Tent and The Mists of Avalon, and I still want to read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. But Mr. & Mrs. was little more than vaguely naughty fan fiction -- very disappointing. Naughty is fine now and again; naughty and romantic is even more so, as it's a rare and underappreciated combination. But if you're gonna write a romantic naughty story, either write your own from scratch or, if you're starting with someone else's characters, at least bring something new to the party (and no, a smidgen of smut alone doesn't cut it).

The plot, such as it is, in a nutshell: The story begins immediately after Elizabeth's wedding to Mr. Darcy. The wedding night vastly exceeds either party's wildest imaginings, and most of the rest of the novel is devoted to how much Darcy and Lizzie love each other, how attracted they are to one another, and how tender and mutually satisfying all their many amorous encounters are. That's pretty much it; not much in the way of conflict or surprise here. Really, all the book has to recommend it are the steamy scenes -- which are OK, but not particularly compelling as the basis for an entire book.