#11 in my book challenge for the year, Truth and Consequences by Alison Lurie felt like a novel in shorthand. It was a quick read that I enjoyed, but the story of two couples–or is it four individuals?–never engaged me at the deep level that Lurie’s Foreign Affairs did.
#10 in my book challenge for the year is Salvation Run by Mary Gardner, about bikers and Lutherans in northern Minnesota. Mary Gardner is such a good writing instructor that I took the same class from her twice. Disproving the adage “those who can’t do, teach”, Salvation Run is exquisitely crafted. In simple prose, tales of flawed people who struggle with themselves and others interweave, but never confuse. Several characters linger long after the book is done.
#9 in my book challenge for the year, Goodnight Nobody by Jennifer Weiner was the first novel I read, post-Guppy. The pink, chick-lit-y cover doesn’t match the novel at all; shame on the publisher for foisting it on the author. The mystery is interestingly plotted, and clips along at a good pace, but doesn’t linger in the mind. The meditations on marriage and motherhood, though, are complex and engaging. Weiner writes about ambivalence with humor and empathy. Her main character is easy to relate to, even as she questions her marriage and flirts with an old flame. The end of the book tidily ties up the mystery, but not the complex relationships. Some reviewers at Amazon have a problem with this, but I thought it elevated the book above its chick lit counterparts, and made me wish that Weiner focuses more on the messy relationship stuff for her next book.
#8 in my book challenge for the year was A Long Way Down, sent to me by kind reader V. who had an extra copy. It’s about four people who meet on New Year’s Eve at the top of a building. They all intend to jump, but don’t. The story rotates through their four voices, each of which is distinct. The book is dark, funny and human. Some dismiss Hornby as light reading, but I feel he has a talent for illuminating difficult emotional aspects of characters that gives his work more than average heft.
#7 in my book challenge for the year was Bungalow Kitchens, since we’re on the verge of updating ours. After flipping through the book, I thought the photos were lovely but didn’t think I’d get much out of the book. The photos had a lot of period reproductions of older kitchens with vintage appliances. We plan to update our kitchen, not make it look like it’s original. Yet we don’t want to plonk a modern-looking kitchen in the midst of our 1917-looking house. Reading the book cover to cover, though, was well worth my time. I learned a lot about bungalows in general, and about design choices in particular. Specifically helpful was the organization of the book by detail, e.g. counters, and the inclusion of information on how to obsessively restore, countered by compromises for modern kitchens. It was also helpful to learn that if we take a restorative tack in our kitchen re-do, then there are lots of things we can rule out, e.g. recessed lighting, thereby limiting the vast number of choices we’d have to make if we were building a kitchen from scratch or renovating a kitchen in a more modern house.
For the record, Hypnobirthing by Marie Mongan was my #6 book for the year, though it seems weird to mention, since it’s obviously a situational thing. The name sounds very cheesy, and some of the assurances a little too good to be true, e.g. birth doesn’t have to hurt! But I’m doing two big things differently this time: using hypnosis as a relaxation tool, and working with a doula. When I had Drake, my water broke after a long day; I was exhausted and probably dehydrated. Then when I had tough contractions, I threw up, making things worse. I would love drug-free pain, but I’ll settle for no vomiting. Also, when I had Drake the hospital was full, and G. Grod and I were left alone for long periods of time, with me in a labor whose details were not by the book. This time we’re working with a doula, in the hope that if things go weird again, we’ll have a calmer, more experienced person with us the whole time.
#5 in my book challenge for this year is a practical read: The Not-So-Big House by Sarah Susanka. Not only does our family live in a NSB house, but with a second child on the way, a new sink in our immediate future, and a restored/renovated kitchen in our possible future, I thought it would be good to gather ideas. This is a beautiful book with lovely photography. It’s coffee-table size, though, makes for awkward reading in bed. It’s written much in the manner of a self-help book. Susanka introduces different concepts about how to live more authentically in smaller places, then reinforces her points both in the text and the photos. Unlike many self-help books, though, many of the ideas continue to resonate. One is that of an “away” room in the house–a place for quiet reading that is apart from the general traffic flow and noise of everyday life. Another is her suggestion that rooms be multi-functional. She gently denigrates the modern house staple of a formal dining room that is hardly ever used because of its singular function. Instead, she advocates the creation of a dining space that can be informal or formal depending on light and decor, or a dining space that does double duty in other ways. (Case in point: I am typing this entry on my laptop as I sit at our dining room table, which is also where our little family eats every night. Breakfast and lunch usually take place in the kitchen.) She also has an interesting suggestion for planning house changes when you have kids–ask them. Very often, they’ll have opinions, and you might save time and hassle by finding out what kind of space your kids want for their room or play space, instead of making something they will dislike and not use.
#4 in my book challenge for the year was Consider the Lobster by David Foster Wallace. The essays here cover range over the past decade and cover such diverse topics as the AVN awards (like the Oscars of porn), 9/11, Kafka and Dostoyevsky. With his trademark lengthy footnotes adorning every pages, this is not a quick or easy read, though it is rewarding. I especially enjoyed “Authority and American Usage,” ostensibly a review of the new A Dictionary of Modern American Usage, but really a history and analysis of what he terms The Usage Wars. It’s hard not to feel intellectually small after reading DFW, but he counters his extreme intellectualism with a humanity that makes the essays, no matter their topic, extremely engaging. I don’t think, however, that he could ever manage to balance the humanity and the intellectualism–he’s so far gone in the latter that it can only be tempered. Equilibrium would be a long shot.
#3 in my book challenge for 2006 was We Were the Mulvaneys. I veered from 2 quick graphic novel reads into Oates’s long, dense novel. This was the first book by Oates for adults that I have read, and I admired it. It is a family history, so thickly characterized I could almost swear the Mulvaneys were real. The Mulvaneys seem to have a charmed life until one awful, disruptive event sends them all spiralling down and out. It’s tragic, believable, and ultimately redemptive.
#2 in my book challenge for the year, Batman: Dark Victory, was not as interesting or complex as its predecessor Batman: The Long Halloween. It had a more defined ending, but was even less satisfying for its contrivance. My advice, contrary to most reviewers: skip Dark Victory and Catwoman: When in Rome. Read Batman: Year One and The Long Halloween, then stop.
#1 in my book challenge for this year was Catwoman: When in Rome. This book disappointed, as have Loeb and Sale’s more recent efforts. This story takes place after the much superior Batman: The Long Halloween and before Batman: Dark Victory. This six-issue collection could probably have been a very strong single issue with a good editor. Over six issues the story was spread thin. Additionally, I find the wildly subtle and various affects of the Scarecrow’s influence to be annoyingly contrived.
The book and movie challenges I did last year arose out of frustration that two of my favorite pastimes got short shrift in the aftermath of having a child 2+ years ago. The goals were reminders that books and movies are priorities. I enjoy them and they engage my mind. Our next child is due in the coming weeks; I’m sure this will make a dent in the time and energy I’m able to devote to books and movies. Last year’s successful challenges show me to hang in there, because things change. They also remind me that motherhood is not synonymous with intellectual stagnation or atrophy. I will again try for 50 books and 50 movies. One of each per week feels manageable, for now.