The Painted Veil by W. Somerset Maugham - Book, movie and radio program

On the steamer that took them up the Western River Walter read incessantly, but at meal-times he endeavored to make some kind of conversation. He talked to her as though she were a stranger with whom he happened to be making the journey, of indifferent things, from politeness, Kitty imagined, or because so he could render more marked the gulf that separated them.

~p. 87 of The Painted Veil

This is going to be an extremely casual set of thoughts. I watched The Painted Veil, the movie starring Edward Norton and Naomi Watts, one night when Huzzybuns was out of either town or country or both, and then tore through my house looking for the book. It took me two days to locate the book, which I immediately read then followed up with a second viewing of the movie and then the BBC Radio 4 "Woman's Hour" radio production in 5 parts. The general storyline for book, movie and radio series:

Kitty has spent her youthful years toying with a procession of suitors without finding a single one of them appealing enough to marry. Now, her younger sister is marrying well and her mother asks, "How long do you expect your father to support you?" Kitty realizes she is not only considered a burden but also about to become a laughingstock because her younger sister will be titled and she will be "the cast-off elder spinster sister." She wants to go far, far away. Conveniently, Walter asks her to marry him and accompany him to China, where he works as a bacteriologist.

They move to Hong Kong (Shanghai in the movie) and two years pass. Kitty thinks Walter is boring and rude. He has a tendency not to reply to her because he's focused on his work and is not prone to chatter -- he's a very nerd-centric, science guy. She becomes captivated by Charlie, who is also married, and they have a steamy affair. In the book and BBC Radio 4 series (as I recall -- the radio series was only available online temporarily), they go to a room above a shop; in the movie the location of their trysts is unspecified but in all cases, they end up in Kitty's room on a day that Walter arrives home early. He turns the doorknob but the door is locked.

Walter doesn't pretend he knows nothing. He's already aware that Kitty finds him appalling, but now he's Majorly Pissed. Within a short time, he's decided to take a job working in a remote village where there has been an outbreak of cholera. He tells Kitty he'll leave her behind if Charlie will divorce his wife and marry Kitty immediately. Walter is not as stupid as Kitty thinks; he knows how Charlie will react. Off they go to Mei-tan-fu, where all but one of the Englishmen in town have died or fled. Will Walter succeed in killing them both, thus eliminating the wife he now hates and his own humiliated self?

This is how the movie begins:

Walter and Kitty are sitting in the rain, nowhere near each other, waiting for their ride (which involves chairs carried by coolies). You can tell they hate each other, Kitty is angry, Walter doesn't care what she thinks; he's off in his own little world. It's perfectly portrayed in a stunningly beautiful setting. Flashbacks are utilized to tell the story up to this point, whereas the story is told in linear form in book and, I think, also in the radio series.

The three versions -- original novel, film and radio program -- are fascinating in their distinctions, but it may be a bit of a spoiler to say exactly how they differ, apart from noting that Kitty gains strength and character and learns to respect her husband in the movie and in the book she remains a simpering, frail, pitiful character to the end. Oh, and there are a lot of things added to the movie, obviously for cinematic effect. Most of those were good choices, in my opinion.

Want to know more about the differences? Keep reading, but be aware that this may be spoiler territory.

In the book, Kitty learns to respect her husband but continues to declare that she can never possibly love Walter. Kitty is a typical wimpy bitch heroine written by a popular writer of the time period (1920's - copyrighted in 1925) and disappointing in her lack of growth.

The movie and radio series were obviously written with modern sensibilities in mind. Women of today will not put up with a character who can't be bothered to learn from her mistakes and buck up. From respect for her husband's hard work and the love and care he shows to others, as well as her own hard work, Kitty loses her hard edge and learns to love. She develops a backbone where needed, softens in other ways. And, the love that develops between Kitty and Walter makes the story both romantic and tragic. But, honestly, I don't want to ever give everything away.

----End spoiler----

So, which version of The Painted Veil did I like best? Honestly? I enjoyed all three versions for different reasons but especially liked them in combination. I liked the beautiful scenery of the movie, Maugham's gorgeous writing in the book, the way the radio program brought the sound and sensations of the book to life with actors in roles (as opposed to the typical single-narrator/actor audio recordings, which I tend to detest), horses hooves clattering, bells chiming. But, I really do not like the ending of the book.

I thought Edward Norton, Naomi Watts and Liev Schreiber hit it out of the ballpark. Their characterizations were spot on, at first, then fit the changes made to the script (which made the movie version romantic). The average viewer who rated The Painted Veil at Rotten Tomatoes tends to agree with me. The radio show was different in minor ways but, again, apart from updating the female role to fit modern demands, it wasn't that far off from the book. In fact, it was closer to the novel than the movie. My one complaint about the movie was that there were a couple senseless jabs at Catholicism. I'm not Catholic, but I was a bit appalled by them.

On the second viewing of the movie, I took notes. At one point, Mr. Waddington (the only other Englishman in the village) says of the nuns who run the local orphanage:

"They're not just here to run an orphanage. They're turning these children into little Catholics."

Hmm. Not in the book. In fact, the nuns have nothing but the interests of the children at heart in the novel. They are not all orphans but by paying their parents a modest fee, the nuns are able to take in children who would be otherwise neglected, starved, possibly abandoned. And, then there's a little speech by Mother Superior, who compares her love of Jesus to a marriage:

"Over the years, my feelings have changed. He disappointed me, ignored me."

No, she doesn't say anything of the sort in the novel. She is a deeply committed believer who cannot be persuaded to return to her extremely wealthy family in France. Having made her decision when young, she still feels she has made the right choice and that China is where she belongs, regardless of the risks.

Other than those annoying changes, I thought the movie was pretty well done. Some lines are recognizably pulled directly from the novel. In one case, Mr. Waddington of the movie version is given one of Mother Superior's lines -- or, maybe it's the other way around. The movie is faithful enough and the ending is an improvement. Look, Walter and Kitty actually touch each other, late in the movie!

I think I had trouble with the fact that Kitty found her husband so repulsive partly because I like skinny, nerdy, science dudes. Heck, I even married one (although we have both since expanded . . . he sort of married a skinny nerd, too -- just a different kind). Walter is really quite a bit like my husband, in many ways: focused, smart, driven, quiet. I mentally chewed out Kitty, a few times. Silly old cow, can't you see what a decent guy you've got?

Book, movie and radio program all recommended - I don't know what it is about this story that I love, but I found the idea fascinating, the characters interesting and well-developed and the portrayal very beautifully done in both movie and radio show. The acting is really marvelous in both. Movie-wise, Edward Norton always amazes me, to be honest. I didn't even know who was playing Kitty till the credits rolled, but I was impressed with Naomi Watts, too. I think The Painted Veil is the first movie in which I've seen her. Kitty is disappointing in the book, but I love Maugham's writing and I suppose I can forgive him for not letting Kitty grow a bit more. Yes, I do believe I will. Forgiven.

Cover thoughts:

The cover shown above is the design on my copy, which was published in 2004 by Vintage International (a division of Random House books). I like it. The mode of dress and hairstyle are right for the time period. I don't recall if there's any scene with a bird cage in the book, but there is in the movie. Actually, that part's kind of weird. They took Waddington's love life and gave Kitty a couple of "Gasp!" scenes. Oh, and Waddington -- I love the actor who played him and found that he fit the description in the book very nicely.

In other news:

There will be a cat photo, soon. My recent reviews have been way the heck too long, so I'll keep the next post brief. Sound good to you? Happy Valentine's Day!

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Passage by Connie Willis

Passage by Connie Willis is a book that naturally follows Paranormal by Raymond Moody in the most extraordinary way. I'm still a little shocked that I just happened to pick up Passage and begin reading it almost as soon as I'd put down Paranormal.

In Passage, Dr. Joanna Lander, is a research psychologist studying Near-Death Experiences (NDEs). To gather material for study, she spends her time interviewing people who have just had NDEs. Maurice Mandrake, author of Life at the End of the Tunnel (fake title; Mandrake is a fictional character who appears to be patterned after Moody but lacking in scruples), is Joanna's bane. He works in the same hospital and the two are constantly racing to capture the stories of recent near-death patients. But, Mandrake has an agenda; he is convinced that there is a heaven and he uses leading statements to convince patients that they've seen things that prove there's a heaven.

Joanna pairs up with a neurologist named Dr. Richard Wright, who has come up with a way to chemically simulate NDEs and observe the patterns of brain activity while the simulated NDEs are occurring. But, when they find that Mandrake has contaminated their list of volunteers and realize they have a limited amount of time to come up with results in order to continue their funding, Joanna agrees to "go under" for the sake of keeping the research on track. And, where she travels is both fascinating and terrifying.

I'm not going to say much about where this book heads, plot-wise because I fear if I mentioned where Joanna travels during her NDEs, it would be a spoiler (although I figured it out pretty quickly), although I should mention that she doesn't technically die. On to love/dislike . . .

What I loved about Passage:

I loved the setting and details about the "place" to which Joanna is transported during her NDEs. Let's just say it's particularly apropos, this year. And, I love Willis' trademark eye for the absurdities of life. In Passage, the hospital is like a maze and I can relate to that. I once worked in a hospital that was very maze-like -- not to the extreme of the hospital in Passage, but it was definitely confusing. There is also a cafeteria that is almost never open, so Joanna frequently eats out of Richard's lab coat pockets, where he keeps a surprising stash of food and drinks.

Passage is also gripping enough that I read the nearly-800-pages in 3 days (that's fast for me). While it's not my favorite book by Willis, I still believe she can do no wrong. There is a shocking turn of events that totally threw me in the third section of the book. I was completely stunned; I may have even gasped aloud. It's well done and genuinely unexpected, totally changes the direction of the story and leads to a satisfying, if a bit eyebrow-raising, denouement.

I also liked the fact that, since the book is set in Denver, the author mentioned The Tattered Cover. Way to go, Connie Willis! I love it when an author has one of his or her characters mention a real-world bookstore if the setting is a genuine city, even just in passing.

What I disliked about Passage:

It could have been a bit shorter and less technical, I think. However, not being a scientist I can't say whether or not a lot of the yawn-worthy passages that included scientific detail (such as the following) were completely necessary:

"How the feeling of significance factors into the choice of scenario is one of the things I want to explore," Richard said. "Also, does the scenario remain the same, or does it change depending on the stimuli, or the initial stimulus?"

"The initial stimulus? I thought you said--"

"That the unifying memory fit all the stimuli? I did, but the initial stimulus may be what determines the choice of one suitable image over another. That would explain why religious images are so prevalent. If the initial stimulus was a floating feeling, there would be very few suitable memories, except for angels."

"Or Peter Pan."

~p. 303 of Passage

Note that there's still a little humor inserted into a mostly-technical passage. The story is always entertaining, even if at times the detail can be a little heavy.

I'm going to put a spoiler passage at the end of this post. I don't think it's really all that spoilery, but it could mess with the experience for people who like everything to be a surprise, so I'll set it off with a warning. I'm going to even include a quote I love.

Highly recommended to fans of Connie Willis and those who like science fiction (emphasis on the science -- no time travel, outerspace, etc., in this one). It would be a mistake to avoid Passage because of its genre because it really is just a good novel that happens to have a scientific storyline. Great characterization, dialogue and storytelling, in general. I can never close a Connie Willis book without wanting to scrounge on my shelf for more.

I'll save recent arrivals for tomorrow. For now . . . the spoiler:

--------------WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! --------------------

-----------------------------POSSIBLE SPOILER!!--------------------------------------

----------JUST SKIP THIS PART IF YOU'RE A WORRIER, OKAY?--------------

I just love this. When Joanna's brain is in near-death simulation, she finds herself on the Titanic. The question is . . . does everyone go to the Titanic when they die or was there some specific trigger that caused her mind to go there? If so, why does she keep returning to the same place? If you're a Titanic buff, you'll find it very fun reading the details as Joanna slowly makes her way around the ship. Here's a quote I loved which, I think, goes a long way toward explaining why I am fascinated by the Titanic disaster:

The lesson of the Titanic was that people kept on trying even when they knew it was hopeless--tapping out SOSs, cutting the collapsibles free, going belowdecks and bringing the mail up, letting the dogs loose-- all of them determined to save something, someone, even though they knew they couldn't save themselves.

~p. 719

END SPOILER - You may now pick up your delicate bone china cup with pinkie sticking out and make a "Hummph!" noise if you had no choice but to skip this part (or are offended that it was such a let-down).

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Fiona Friday - Isabel Reviews Paranormal

Isabel's one-sentence review: Paranormal is yummy!

Appearances aside, no innocent books were injured or killed in the making of this book review.

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Paranormal by Raymond Moody, M. D.

Paranormal is subtitled "My Life in Pursuit of the Afterlife," so that should have been a pretty big clue that I was about to read a memoir, rather than a lot of stories about what the author actually experienced, I suppose. But, I must admit I was a little surprised. I didn't realize it was going to be a memoir that went way back to his childhood and the reasons he got into researching life after death, among other things.

I almost gave up on Paranormal around page 25, but decided 25 pages was not enough of a chance, so I kept on reading and I must admit I got totally sucked in. Plus, Paranormal is well-written enough to make it a fairly breezy read; in the end, I read it in a single afternoon so finding that it was a little different than what I expected did not dissuade me from finishing the book.

Paranormal begins all the way at the beginning of Raymond Moody's life. The opening line:

I was born on June 30, 1944, the very day my father shipped out for World War II.

From there, we learn that the father Moody came to know was a changed man from the one who left in 1944. Of course, the author never knew the "before" version of his father, only the "after" -- the angry, uncommunicative man who made young Raymond a misery. His grandparents were the people he looked up to and it was a grandparent's death that made him wonder about death and whether it was really the end.

Unfortunately, you have to wade through a lot of annoying garbage about young Raymond's brilliance before you get to how he began to do his research, by whom he was mentored, the way he did his research and what he believes (the belief part is very vague, actually). All of which is very high in self-praise and peppered throughout with incidents caused by the medical condition he still is battling.

The book covers his research in life after death -- the subject for which he became famous, after the publication of his book Life After Life -- along with past-life regression (which he believes can be useful in healing people of illnesses, both mental and physical) and contact with the deceased.

What I liked about Paranormal:

I'm going to confess that I found the book fascinating but I am still a skeptic and I'm going to quote the author's use of the word "skeptic:

The truth was that I was a skeptic in the ancient Greek sense of that word ("one who goes on inquiring"). A skeptic in that fascinating ancient culture was not someone who was a naysayer -- as we think of skeptics today -- but rather a seeker who had decided not to reach a conclusion.

~p. 119, Paranormal

That works for me. I did like the way he described going about his research in a way that stopped "well short of declaring that I had discovered proof positive of life after death" and the fact that he refused to attempt to simulate a near-death experience, as in the movie Flatliners, in order to further his research.

I also liked the writing style -- easy reading. Fascinating as it was, I was rather glad that it was a quick read.

What I disliked about Paranormal:

I hate saying this because sometimes I have found that an author who sounds totally overblown is really quite a nice, down-to-earth person, but it's true that Raymond Moody comes off as very high on himself in Paranormal, at least during the first half of the book. I also found that, while it's important to the telling of his story in memoir form, the fact that he stated up front that he attempted suicide because of his medical condition and basically said, "but don't let that put you off what I have to say about my paranormal experiences" (my wording) . . . well . . . it put me off. It shouldn't, but it did.

However, that's small potatoes when compared to the way the book seemed to degenerate. Investigation of life after death without drawing a reasonable conclusion was one thing, but then he went on to past-life regression and I couldn't help thinking, "Any of those things he believes he experienced in past lives could have come from watching TV or movies, dreams he had, bits of conversation." The mind does some very strange things.

By the point that he began describing "crystal gazing" and the Oracle of Delphi, then told how he recreated the Greek caves and reflective surfaces that allowed one to chat with the deceased (by darkening a house and putting people in a closet with a mirror), he'd lost me. I thought he was nuts. I was doubly convinced when Moody described a trip to Greece to see the actual caves, where he spoke to Socrates. I had to flip back through the book to remind myself that there are also descriptions of "shared death experiences" toward the end. I think, by that point, I was just hurrying to get it over with, interesting as they were.

I think it's relevant to note that Raymond Moody's mentor was George Ritchie, the one person who claims to have had a near-death experience that I absolutely did not and cannot buy into. I read Ritchie's book around the time of my own mother's death (which was not completely devoid of the kind of experiences hospice workers warned us about -- she kept saying she wasn't ready to "go down that road") and it was a head-shaker.

So, perhaps I went into the reading of this book a bit over-the-top on the skepticism. I have, however, read quite a few books by people who claim to have had near-death experiences. And, I like to believe them. Some I can swallow, some I cannot. I am completely undecided; I am a skeptic in the Greek sense. Reading Paranormal, then, really did not change much. Except, you will not find me sitting in a dark closet with a mirror, trying to talk to a dead loved one. I'm convinced of that.

Recommended only to memoir lovers or those who are curious about Moody's research into near-death experiences, past-life regression, crystal-gazing and shared death experiences. Be aware that the book is primarily a memoir and most of the stories of experience are his own. Stories about the experiences of his subjects are brief. This book was not a favorite and I recommend it with hesitation, but I do think some people will enjoy it.

Cover thoughts: I don't get it. But, the cover is kind of cool. I am, however, outspoken about the use of nothing but black and white in covers. I think they tend to end up in the remainders. I cannot even begin to tell you how many black-and-white books we received when I worked at a store that carried almost entirely remaindered inventory.

In other news: My DVD copy of Downton Abbey, Season 2 arrived, yesterday! Very exciting, as it took me two weeks to figure out when Downton Abbey is aired, locally, and then we missed an episode because we couldn't get a signal (we don't have cable or satellite and the new-fangled digital signal is weather-dependent). Boy, they really dropped Lavinia and Sir Richard on us without much preamble, didn't they?

My only convincing ghost experience occurred in Farnham, England. I don't have any digital photos of Farnham, so you get a random photo from our last trip to the UK, which I turned black and white to fit today's unintentional theme (it's all the book cover artist's fault):

Makes you long for the good old days, doesn't it?

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Empire of the Summer Moon by S. C. Gwynne

The Comanche male was thus gloriously, astoundingly free. He was subject to no church, no organized religion, no priest class, no military societies, no state, no police, no public law, no domineering clans or powerful families, no strict rules of personal behavior, nothing telling him he could not leave his band and join another one, nothing even telling him he could not abscond with his friend's wife, though he certainly would end up paying somewhere between one and ten horses for that indulgence, assuming he was caught. He was free to organize his own military raids; free to come and go as he pleased.

~p. 51, Empire of the Summer Moon

It took me forever to read this book because what you don't see in that excerpt about the Comanche male is that the lack of religion, law and rules of personal behavior meant that when they attacked other tribes or white settlers, Comanches were vicious to the point that they are among the few who, in retrospect, could truly be called "savage" without it being a racial slur. Seeing nothing wrong with torture (including that of babies), rape (heavily pregnant women and elderly women were not immune to rape and torture), scalpings and other horrors, young Comanches actually appeared to enjoy the cruelties they inflicted on their enemies. The details make for hard reading. Not everything about the book makes it miserable, though, or I would never have made it to the end.

So many raids were made by moonlight that in Texas a full, bright spring or summer moon is still known as a Comanche Moon.

~p. 65

When my book club discussed Empire of the Summer Moon, I wasn't able to attend. I'm sorry I missed the discussion. I was still only partway through the book because I had to keep setting it aside (although that's not the reason I didn't make it to the meeting). It kept occurring to me that the Comanche gang rapes -- which were often followed by murder, but not always . . . sometimes a woman would survive the initial attack, only to go through the same thing repeatedly -- could be classified as "sociopathic group-think run amok" [my wording]. These were not your sweet, passive Indians who were eventually shuffled off to reservations after giving in peacefully to numerous unfathomably ridiculous requests. The Comanches fought to the bitter end and in the nastiest ways imaginable. They fought to win and to drive people away. It worked for a very long time.

Quanah Parker was the last Comanche chief and part of Empire of the Summer Moon is his story, the story of the final people to leave their land behind and how he negotiated for his people and cleverly earned a fortune. But, most of Empire of the Summer Moon is dedicated to the history of the Comanches, how they lived and why they were able to ride for hundreds of miles without getting lost, how they defeated the Apaches, drove back the Spanish and stopped the white man's expansion into "Comancheria".

There's also plenty about Quanah's mother, the young white captive Cynthia Ann Parker. Although most everything that has been written about her either is very vague or involves a lot of assumptions because of what the author of Empire of the Summer Moon refers to as her "resonating silence" after she was retrieved from the Comanches, the author did an astounding job of gathering parallel accounts and information about various sightings of Cynthia Ann that help round out her story.

By the point of her liberation by whites, Cynthia Ann Parker had not only become a part of her Comanche tribe (with a completely different name) but was happily married to a chief and had three children. Her husband's death and the separation from her boys grieved her deeply. Cynthia Ann's story is a very sad one. Had she lived, I'm sure she would have been pleased with her only surviving child's leadership and kindness toward his people.

I could spend all day typing up quotations from the book because it is fascinating, well-written, informative history and at a glance I can see that I probably marked at least 25-30 passages. But, instead I'll tell you that if you're interested in Native American history, it's a must read. I've been on a bit of a Native American bent for the last couple of months and the first two books were highly critical of white treatment of Indians, as all books about Native Americans should be, in some way. But, Empire of the Summer Moon also shows the flip side -- the devastation and cruelty inflicted on white settlers by the uncivilized tribes.

As in any book of its kind, there is no escaping the horrors whites inflicted on Indians. They came, they saw, they conquered. But, author S. C. Gwynne gives you a good understanding of the rights and wrongs on both sides, the combined cruelty and idiocy of the young American government's decisions regarding our aboriginal people, as well as a glimpse into the reason hunter/gatherers eventually lose out to agrarian societies. Very engrossing stuff. I have two more non-fiction titles about Native Americans and a fictional account of Cynthia Parker's life (which I already know is in many ways wildly inaccurate) that I'm looking forward to reading, hopefully in the near future.

One of the things I really enjoyed about Empire of the Summer Moon was reading about various other tribes besides the Comanches, how they arrived in Indian Territory (aka, my home state, Oklahoma) and the wildly diverse camping grounds of the Comanches. Sometimes, I recognized the descriptions as places near my hometown. I miss Oklahoma, even 25 years after moving away, so it always gives me a buzz to read anything at all about "home".

I think this quote gives you a good idea of both the years of great change described and the quality of writing in Empire of the Summer Moon:

Much of what was left of [the Penatekas], starving and demoralized, limped on to a tiny reservation in 1855, despised even by other Comanches.

Only ten years before, such a thing would have been unimaginable. At the moment of the raid on Parker's Fort, the moment when a weeping Lucy Parker placed her terrified daughter on the rear flank of a Comanche mustang, the Comanches, and the Penatekas in particular, had been at the peak of their historical power and influence. They had defeated the Europeans, cowed the Mexicans, and had so thoroughly mastered the far southern plains that they were no longer threatened by other tribes. They had enough enemies to keep them entertained and supplied with a surfeit of horseflesh. But none to really worry about. Their source of food and sustenance, the buffalo, roamed the plains in record numbers and still ranged into every corner of Comancheria. The tribe's low birth rates virtually guaranteed that their nomadic life following buffalo herds was infinitely sustainable. Their world was thus suspended in what seemed to be a perfect equilibrium, a balance of earth and wind and sun and sky that would endure forever. An empire under the bright summer moon. For those who witnessed the change at a very intimate and personal level, including Cynthia Ann and her husband, the speed with which that ideal world was dismantled must have seemed scarcely believable. She herself, the daughter of pioneers who were hammering violently at the age-old Comanche barrier that had defeated all other comers, now adopted into a culture that was beginning to die, was the emblem of the change.

~p. 110

Empire of the Summer Moon was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize, published by Scribner in 2010. Although it does bounce around in time a bit and can thus be a bit confusing, that and the fact that I thought the book could have used a glossary were my only complaints.

Highly recommended. An exceptionally written, extremely well-researched and revealing tale of American History, focusing on the Comanches and their downfall but including plenty of insight about other Native American tribes, the dangers to pioneers of the time period and the clueless handling of the Comanche "problem" by the young American government and its army. The Civil War and its impact on the frontier is also described. One warning: there is some very graphic description of violence in Empire of the Summer Moon.

Just walked in:

All Woman and Springtime by Brandon W. Jones and

Heading Out to Wonderful by Robert Goolrick -- both surprises from Algonquin Books

They also sent me copies of two books that I have tried and failed to get into, so I think I just won't mention them, although I may give one a second chance (the other got two chances but will not get a third).

Let's offset the Native American History glum with a bit of kitty fun:

No, I did not let Isabel begin a workout. She gets enough working out, I promise you. Crazy cat. Happy Tuesday!

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

A Good American by Alex George

After an hour or so, Frederick sat down on a bench and rested. He was thirsty, and hot. He wiped his brow and thought about returning to the hotel. Just then, the sound of a cornet floated through the air. This was not the sort of dry fugue that echoed through Hanover concert halls. The instrument had been unshackled: it spiraled upward, a whirlwind of graceful elision and complex melody. The music streaked into the night, every note dripping with joy. He stood up and followed the sound.

~p. 23 of Advance Reader's Copy: A Good American [Some changes may have been made to the final print version]

Here's a new way to find a book. I started reading the buzz about A Good American by Alex George in late fall of 2011 and was particularly interested in the fact that the characters' immigrant story bears some remarkable similarities to my own family's history. But, it was the author's graciousness (discovered via various tweets) that captured me. I wanted to know more about his book simply because he seemed like such a nice guy. Authors, put that in your pipe and smoke it. Being nice can get you some attention. In my case, I got lucky and managed to snag an advance reader, although I had already added the book to my wish list well before the opportunity to acquire a review copy presented itself.

It's been a month since I read A Good American, but no worries about the time delay between reading and reviewing. A Good American is the kind of family saga that sticks to your ribs like a well-balanced meal.

In early 20th-century Prussia, Jette's parents have pretty much given up hope of ever marrying off their daughter till Frederick woos her with his beautiful voice and kind spirit. But, Jette's family will never approve of Frederick and eventually the couple has no choice but to run away. Jette steals a small family heirloom and Frederick is forced to leave with nothing but the clothing on his back as they set off for America.

So begins the story of the Meisenheimer family, narrated by James Meisenheimer, Jette and Frederick's grandson. From Frederick and Jette's journey to New Orleans to the generations that follow in Beatrice, Missouri, A Good American tells the story of a music- and food-loving immigrant American family through births and deaths, challenges and joys.

What I loved about A Good American:

Besides the fact that A Good American is a well-written book, I absolutely adore all the references to music and the gradual changes in the bar/restaurant that the family works in, eventually owns, then passes on through three generations. The changes in the restaurant and the descriptions of food are all believable and add interest to this family saga.

Alex George's writing is lovely, intelligent writing.

He gazed up at the sky, so different from home. In Europe the stars hunkered down low across the night, dull and pendulous. Here, though, the heavens were filled with a million dazzling celestial bodies, each one casually brushing up to infinity.

"I could get to like this place," he said.

~p. 47

I also thought the author did a good job of handling the accent of a black character from New Orleans. The tendency of most non-native writers is to overdo Southern accents of any kind, heavily emphasizing tricky dialect that can vary dramatically from one Southern region or city to the next. The author kept his Southern character's dialogue subtle. I thought the skill with which the author handled those bits of Southern dialogue was particularly amazing given the fact that the author is British.

What I disliked about A Good American:

The last 75 pages or so were weaker than the rest of the book, in my humble opinion, but that may be partly because I enjoyed reading about the earlier time period more than the modern. Once we got to the narrator's story of his own life, it also became a little bit more "coming of age" and less a family saga -- just a little. I really dislike "coming of age" stories, so the historical parts won me over and the latter bit lost me a little. But that is, as I said, a personal preference. I did like the way the book ended.

Otherwise, the only thing that really jumped out at me was that too many people died. There came a point that I felt like the deaths were starting to stand out; they began to feel like plot points.

The bottom line:

A well-written novel with a charming emphasis on food and music, recommended particularly to those who love family sagas but also a rocking fine novel for just about anyone. There are some brief scenes of graphic violence and a bit of the coming-of-age type of sexual stuff, but nothing that will warp your kid for life if he or she happens to pick up your copy (this is adult fiction, not YA, in case that sentence is misleading).

You can follow Alex George on his Facebook author page or visit Alex George's website to learn more about A Good American and the author (who will become an American citizen, soon). A Good American is getting a tremendous amount of attention. It's the #1 Indie Next Pick for February, has been listed on Oprah.com as one of February's "Books to Watch For," and is being touted as one of the "best books of the month" on Amazon. Wow! That's some major attention.

Mr. George just happens to hail from one of my favorite towns in England. We stopped through Marlborough, last year, and ate here:

Definitely a place worth stopping, if you ever happen to find yourself in Wiltshire.

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Fiona Friday - I'd say "peek-a-boo" but I really just want your dinner

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Armageddon in Retrospect by Kurt Vonnegut

I wonder if I should bother to mention the sources of my books. Should I? Sometimes I do; sometimes I don't. Armageddon in Retrospect is a book that has been sitting on one of my shelves for several years. I came across it on one of those days that I was working on purging the shelves of books I'll never read, those that no longer interest me. Vonnegut is an old favorite of mine but I hadn't read any of his work in at least a decade.

When I happened across Armageddon in Retrospect, I opened it to read the first page and sat down immediately, unable to stop. So much for that day's purging! A book of short stories, a letter, a speech -- they all go a long way toward explaining Kurt Vonnegut's other works. It's been so long since I read Slaughterhouse Five (which I recall thinking was utterly brilliant) that I don't know if I was aware that he'd been a prisoner of war during the notorious WWII bombing of Dresden. My copy of Slaughterhouse Five is decades old and brittle, so it probably does not contain any biographical material. At any rate, his son Mark's introduction is fascinating:

Every few years he sent me a letter telling me what to do in the event of his death. Every time, except the last, the letter would be followed by a phone call, reassuring me that it wasn't a suicide note. The day before he sent me his last "If I should die" letter, he finished the speech he was to deliver in Indiana to kick off the year of Kurt Vonnegut. Two weeks later he fell, hit his head, and irreversibly scrambled his precious egg.

I got to study that last speech much closer than most, since I was asked to deliver it. I couldn't help wondering, "How on earth does he get away with some of this crap?" His audience made it work. I quickly realized that I was reading his words to an auditorium and a world utterly in love with my father who would have followed him anywhere.

pp. 8-9 of Intro, Armageddon in Retrospect

I have to wonder if he'd have been quite as well-loved if this set of stories had been published in Vonnegut's lifetime. The intro is followed by a letter Kurt Vonnegut wrote from a P.O.W. Repatriation Camp in Le Havre, France. His frustrations were clear, despite the brevity. He had been captured -- one of the few in his division who were uninjured in a brief battle -- watched many more of his fellow soldiers die by friendly fire at a train station, was shipped to a labor camp and saw the destruction of Dresden. After Dresden but before his liberation, he was forced to carry bodies from air-raid shelters. Most were old men, women and children. When the Russians arrived and his guards fled, he and some others escaped Dresden, traveling and looting for 8 days. From these events came truck-loads of anger and guilt.

Most of the stories in Armageddon in Retrospect make his anger at humanity and his own personal guilt clear. I think it's plain that they really could not have been published within his lifetime -- or, at the very least, not within a few decades of WWII -- because much of that anger is, in fact, directed at his own countrymen. But, they are excellent stories with his trademark wit, well-defined characters, believable situations and dialogue.

There were a few stories that I found particularly memorable. In "The Commandant's Desk", an older man and his daughter in Czechoslovakia are thrilled when their town is liberated, till the Americans arrive at their home. The major in charge of the small town is abrasive, rude and convinced that the old man and his daughter were collaborating with the enemy.

Shocked, the aging craftsman agrees to carve an eagle design to replace the hammer and sickle he'd placed on a desk he was making for the Russian commander but doesn't tell the major about the "surprise" he'd added to the desk. And, it's a doozy. As the major continues to insult and frighten the old man, the elderly gentleman decides to turn the desk over to the major with the surprise intact. But, then a kind-hearted captain who has always treated the old fellow and his daughter well takes over command of the town, just as the desk is being carried away.

Oh, well, I can't tell you the rest. Sorry. Haha. Spoiler. The kind-hearted Captain Donnini of "The Commandant's Desk" is a repeat character who also appears in a story about a group of American soldiers imprisoned in Dresden, starving and spending their rare breaks sharing recipes and dreaming out loud about the food they'll eat when they're liberated. That particular story, "Guns Before Butter", is another of my favorites.

Vonnegut was also an artist and some of his art is scattered throughout the book, as well -- mostly what appear to be pencil drawings and some numbered prints that are usually text-only or primarily text with a bit of decoration. The final work of art is very revealing. It says [my choice not to use all-caps; the print is entirely capitalized]:

Where do I get my ideas from? You might as well have asked that of Beethoven. He was goofing around in Germany like everybody else, and all of a sudden this stuff came gushing out of him.

It was music. I was goofing around like everybody else in Indiana and all of a sudden stuff came gushing out. It was disgust with civilization.

p. 233

Excellent stories, highly recommended but be aware that they are honest expressions of one man's frustration with his fellow humans and their refusal to just get along with each other. He was a man who yearned for peace. If you live long enough, you realize people are always fighting each other somewhere and Vonnegut's frustrations especially make sense in the context of his early experience with war.

Speaking of controversial things, I have deliberately chosen not to ever dive into the various controversies that inflame readers and bloggers in our little corner of the internet, but I've got a Freaky Big-Eyed Cat Photo in which Fiona wonders about the latest kerfuffles:

I actually wrote my thoughts down and opted not to publish them because, honestly, who cares about what two authors out of a million have to say? They're just drops in a sea of opinions. We should all be used to the odd bit of nuttiness, by now. Thanks for the help, Fiona.

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Backlog

I've read quite a few books, this month, and I have liked or loved every single one of them. But, I have been plagued by migraines and it's hard to write when you're busy holding your head in both hands. Hopefully, reviews of these books will be coming soon.

A Good American is the most exciting of this batch because it's on the verge of release, has already been featured at Oprah.com and is the #1 Indie Next pick for February. I went out of my way to acquire a pre-release copy of A Good American and am happy to report that I agree with all the buzz. It's epic. The rest may end up in mini reviews. We'll see. Till I can see straight, I wish you happy reading.

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Fiona Friday - Cat, dog, cat

Still having to dig in the files. Hope I haven't already posted any of these.

Fi looking up at the human's wiggling fingers (sometimes you have to distract the cat from the fact that there's a camera in your hand):

Peyton in front of a roaring fake fire:

Izzy worn out after playing hard:

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Good Evening, Mrs. Craven: The Wartime Stories of Mollie Panter-Downes

Feeling pleasantly drowsy, Miss Ewing murmured, 'Miss Challoner thinks there's bound to be a revolution in Germany soon. She's always so well-informed. Pull the curtains right back when you've put the light out, Sparks. I like to hear the sea.'

It was a shock when, only a day or two later, things began to happen. One morning, before the old ladies had got their teeth in or their curled fronts adjusted or their stays laced for the day, the terrible noise started. The China tea slopped over in the trembling saucer as Miss Ewing listened, the windows in the Palm Court shivered as though gripped by an ague. At lunchtime nobody could eat, everyone was listening for the next heart-stopping rumble of gunfire. That night there were several muffled explosions that the headwaiter, not so attentive over the wine list as usual, thought might be depth charges out in the Channel.

--from "This Flower Safety" of Good Evening, Mrs. Craven, p. 38

I've let several books languish in my sidebar and Good Evening, Mrs. Craven is one of them. Hopefully, I'll be able to do it justice. Good Evening, Mrs. Craven is subtitled, "The Wartime Stories of Mollie Panter-Downes". A collection of short stories, all take place in England during the WWII time period.

Panter-Downes wrote a column for The New Yorker called "Letters from London" for 50 years, but she only wrote a smattering of short stories. Pity. Panter-Downes' stories are witty and engaging. The stories in Good Evening, Mrs. Craven delve into the little mini-wars being fought on the home front, the tensions between people of different classes as they were forced to change their ways or mix social classes, the irrational fears of some and the over-confidence others had that things would blow over soon.

In one story, a servant bristles at her employer's sudden change from stiff upper class mistress of the home to happily chatting with the Canadian soldiers camped out on her property, dining casually in the kitchen and setting aside her fancier clothing. In another, a woman comes to the conclusion that she's had quite enough of those lower-class people invading her house and turns down a woman in desperate need of a place for herself and her child to live, just after another family has opted to leave her home. In "Mrs. Ramsey's War", a woman moves from one place to another, seeking safety but discovering that it's rather difficult to find a truly safe place to live when one's small island nation is threatened by an airborne and nautical enemy.

Panter-Downes' prose is delightful, but at the same time there's an economy of words that makes her stories really pack a punch. I absolutely loved this collection and never felt let-down. Each story feels complete to me; although, at the same time I do believe any of them would have been enjoyable if expanded to novel length.

Highly Recommended to lovers of short stories and those who are interested in WWII. Sharp writing, keenly observed and cleverly written. I do think Good Evening, Mrs. Craven was a bit of a learning experience, in some ways. It's always much more revealing to read work written at the time of an event, by its participants, as opposed to viewing history in hindsight.

Cover thoughts:

There's not much to those dove-gray Persephone covers, but there's something comforting about them and I do love the pretty interior papers.

I'm not sure where I got Good Evening, Mrs. Craven. It might be one of the books I purchased at Persephone Books in London or I might have ordered it. I should probably keep better track of such things. I have about 6 more Persephone titles to indulge in.

Current desktop background:

Ah, winter. I miss it. It's cool, now, but still not acting very wintery.

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

A DNF I feel really bad about - The World We Found by Thrity Umrigar

Image Source

I absolutely love Thrity Umrigar's writing and there is nothing negative that I can say about The World We Found. I just want to make that clear, up front. Her writing is really quite stunning. I read The Space Between Us in 2005, pre-blogging, and some of the images from that book are still seared into my brain. I don't think I'll ever forget the ending and I've desired to read more of her writing, ever since.

So, why did I set The World We Found aside? Because nearly 4 years after watching my mother take her last breath, I still cannot bear to read about a character dying of cancer. If anyone could get me past that mental block, I think it would be Thrity Umrigar. But, apparently not even her skill and the knowledge that the book is about old friends gathering together one last time (I do love a book about a gathering of close female friends) was enough to keep me going. It was this bit that stopped me:

Armaiti nodded absently, remembering the small, dark bedroom in which her mother had died. After staying up half the night holding her mother's hand she had finally dosed [sic] off for a few minutes. When she awoke her mother's hand was cold and she was dead. Armaiti had sat holding that hand, taking in the bald head, the sunken eyes, the bony forearms whose papery skin was covered with bluish-black marks. She had not cried. Not then. Instead . . .

[--p. 17, Advanced Reader's Edition of The World We Found; changes may have been made to the final edition]

I stopped right there, unable to breathe, to read another word. It's not my experience, not exactly. But, the description of Armaiti's mother's body . . . oh, man. Too, too close. I couldn't go on. I don't want to live with Armaiti as she says goodbye to her friends, her family, and life. I don't want to be reminded of my loss. Coincidentally, I also lost an aunt to brain cancer, Armaiti's killer disease.

You can tell how mature and lovely Umrigar's writing is, just from the excerpt, though, can't you? I flipped back to the cover flap to see if I'd overlooked the word "cancer" when I requested The World We Found from HarperCollins. Nope, they used the words "gravely ill". That assuages my guilt a bit. I've offered my copy of The World We Found to a blogging buddy who happens to have it listed as a book she intends to read and am waiting for a response to see if she already owns a copy. Regardless, I'll find the book a home it deserves, where it can be read fully and appreciated.

Update: I have found a new (blogging buddy!) home for my copy of The World We Found! Very happy about that. Many thanks to all for the support. Your comments mean the world to me.

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

The Pocket Therapist by Therese J. Borchard

I won my copy of The Pocket Therapist by Therese Borchard and immediately sat down with it because I was in a blue mood. That was about 2 years ago. Somehow, the book ended up getting shuffled around and stuffed into a cabinet, as books typically do, around here. I bury books. It resurfaced when I cleaned the cabinet into which it had been stuffed.

The Pocket Therapist is packed with 144 short essays -- or, at least, "Things to think about when you're down." I'm not exactly sure what to call them, but we'll stick with the word "essays". Each essay tells you a little bit about the author's personal experience with chronic depression, addiction and other psychological battles and also offers an idea to help keep you out of your own dark hole. #104 on p. 142, for example, is entitled "Rip the tags off." I'll just share part of it:

Here's a telltale sign of a noncommitter: a closet full of dresses and pants with the tags still on. Because by snipping off a sales tag, you are essentially taking a stand on life, making a decision to wear the dress in public; you lose the option of returning the dress. And, noncommitters adore possibilities and choices.

I try to rip off as many tags as I can today because I know, by experience, that having a cool wardrobe of never-worn skirts--of blowing off invitations to socialize with and meet fellow moms, neighbors, bloggers-- further propels me down the depression hole.

This is also an example of one essay that's completely useless to me. I don't have a problem with leaving tags on outfits. I have a problem with not having any idea where to find people to socialize with (in person, that is -- I have plenty of friends online and I've discovered those relationships do fine face-to-face when I do manage to meet up with the people I've gotten to know distantly).

#105 - "Love the Questions" begins with a comment about why the author prefers math to literature and goes on to say:

But life is like literature. Where the answer--if there is one--depends on what your teacher ate for dinner the night before or how late her husband returned from work.

She goes on to say that for instructions on dealing with the questions in life, she goes to this quote by the poet Rainer Maria Rilke:

Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

Oh. I like that. In general, though, the book is give and take. If you're having a mildly off day, one or two of the essays in The Pocket Therapist may help you to reevaluate your attitude and give you the boost you need to change your day into a good one. Sometimes, I did find the book helpful. It's a mistake to just blast your way through the essays on a really bad day. If it's not helping, I'd say it's best to do something you know usually helps or even just step outside and stand in the sun, rather than reading someone else's thoughts on how to get your mood to lift.

Recommended for the odd blue day, but not to be relied upon as a panacea. Read an essay or two when you're down; choose the ones that really work for you and mark them to return to. I don't think the entire book can possibly be right for everyone, but I personally found a smattering of essays that help me rethink my mood and make changes on a bad day. I'm a very moody chick, you know.

I keep forgetting to return to writing my cover thoughts! So . . .

Cover thoughts: I really like the bright, simple look of this cover. It's a grabber because of the colors but it's also clear from both the image and the title exactly what the book is about.

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.