Things I Forgot, Good Book Karma, Weird Shelf Coincidences, etc.

I completely forgot to mention that The Moon on a Stick (see review, below) was my 12th TBR read, so I'm officially finished with the TBR Challenge (although, I still plan to work harder at reading the books that have been around my house, longer). Yippee! It was also the first book I've completed from my Spring Thing challenge list, so I'm just happy all under about that. It was a pretty fun, light book but not one I'll want to read a second time, so I'm going to offer it up for grabs for Buy a Friend a Book Week, even though I bought it a long time ago. Just leave me a message in the comment section of this post if you're interested and I'll draw a name on Saturday. I'll ship it anywhere in the world because it just wants a good home.

Here's something interesting we noticed at Faulkner's estate. See this nifty bookshelf?

I believe that shelf was in Jill Faulkner's bedroom. My husband had drifted off when I saw it and snapped a photo to record it. Later, we met up and he said, "Hey, did you see that shelf in the bedroom upstairs?" and we laughed about how stunned we both were to see a shelf like the one in our own home. If you enlarge this, please just remember that we have more dust in humid environments. It's not just that I suck at housewifing. Here's ours:

Besides the fact that this little piece of furniture is embarrassing evidence of conspicuous consumption, it also happens to have been built by my grandfather. It was tucked off to the side of my grandmother's staircase in her Nebraska basement and I happened across it after her funeral. The books that were on the shelf were actually what initially caught my eye, but I thought the bookshelf was beautiful. My father, who died unexpectedly the following year, told me Grandpa built it and asked if I'd like to buy it from the estate (because the will was outdated, everything had to be sold - really, quite a mess). I said, "Oh, wow, definitely." The greedy cousins and other relatives who had been ransacking her house had totally overlooked this little shelf and it was because of my love of books that I found it. See the painting of tulips on top, behind a candle on the left? My grandmother painted that. Those are my two treasures from their home. I'm working on trying to update the contents of this shelving unit. The bottom shelf contains a good portion of the Usborne Books I acquired (I sold Usborne Books in order to earn discounts), when I was homeschooling the eldest.


Another thing I didn't entirely forget but was too tired to mention last night . . . Yesterday was the beginning of the 30-Day Organizational Challenge. I'm not going to post a "before" photo because it's embarrassing enough admitting I have that many books crammed on Grandpa's shelf. Geez, you should see our bedroom. No, no, you shouldn't! Anyway, the objective is to choose one room or space (a closet is fine) to transform, organize and make into a useful space in a creative manner. I can always use a good kick in the pants when it comes to cleaning and organizing and I've chosen our bedroom. It is a mess, trust me. Wish me luck, strength, etc. Mostly strength to part with things we no longer need. I'm clingy, unfortunately.

Coming up: A Wahoo! Wednesday post

The Moon on a Stick by Valerie-Anne Baglietto

Being left this way was like being knocked off a known trajectory into an unknown one. But as Amy loaded a few bags and plastic storage crates into her car, recalling thankfully that the Espace, at least, was registered in her name, she realized that no path from cradle to grave could ever be truly prepared for. There was usually something just around the bend, on its way to hit you. As if you were a hedgehog and life was just one long road to cross.

Elspeth stared defiantly into the creamy liquid in her glass, where the ice was already starting to melt. In the depths of her mind, a memory stirred. Something about God not being everywhere at once, which was why he created mothers. Except she had always upheld that God was omnipotent, so this had never made sense. Strangely, however, she was now starting to see a grain of truth in it. Maybe loving, caring mothers were a good reflection of what God was really like.

Amy Croft thinks she's settled down for life. She and her partner, Nick, have three adorable boys under the age of four and have been together for 14 years. They still haven't gotten around to marrying, but Nick is slow to settle on a date and Amy has made plenty of excuses, if only to ease her own mind. She has the engagement ring, the partner and the kids, already. He works for his parents' company and she stays home. All seems in order.

But, then Nick's best friend Paul drops a bombshell. Nick has called from the airport to say he's married someone else and is leaving the country. With Paul as go-between, Amy is forced to leave their lovely apartment and move into her mother and teenage sister's small cottage. Suddenly, Amy realizes what she has been missing all along and must start all over to find the absent ingredients in her life.

This is my second read by Valerie-Anne Baglietto and I only vaguely remember the first enough to know I really enjoyed it. The pages flew; I liked Amy and most of the people in her life. The book probably fits better under the classification "women's fiction" (which I abhor) than "chick lit" or "romance", but it's partly a relationship story, primarily the tale of one woman's discovery that she can stand on her own two feet without a male to prop her up. The fact that Amy eventually finds love doesn't ruin the story; it just makes The Moon on a Stick more of a feel-good novel.

There were a few minor "reality check" moments that made this novel less than superb. The writing is fluid, so it was a quick read for 392 pages. But, now and then, some small incident would interrupt that comfy suspension of disbelief. One such occasion occurred when Amy was searching for a new home for her little family and two-year-old Mikey noted that, "There's no room for daddy to play on his 'puter when he comes back from holiday." Unless she has little baby geniuses--and there's no indication that Mikey is closer to three than two--I find it unlikely that he'd not only speak such a complete sentence but also manage to reason out that a room is small enough to be potentially unable to contain a specific item. Children are ego-centric and tend not to think of others, although some have a greater spacial understanding than others. Similar quotes by her three-year-old made me think that either the author was childless or forgetful.

Still, I enjoyed the book and tried to ignore the moments that my sense of reality was jarred. The Moon on a Stick was definitely a nice break from some heavier reads. I have no idea what the title relates to.

3.5/5

Also finished: In the Cut by Susannah Moore (I could find no image online). I picked up In the Cut and began to read it, yesterday, because I was in the mood for something short with atmosphere. The movie didn't appeal to me at all; it appeared too violent and frightening. While I had totally misjudged the story based on the movie clips viewed, I was definitely correct about the tension level. In the Cut is the story of a woman who teaches English. She has lived in 14 countries, as the daughter of a diplomat, and is quietly self-confident. When she walks in on a couple and later finds out that the woman was brutally murdered, she keeps the information to herself and gets involved in a dangerous relationship with a cop who might be a murderer. At the same time, she begins to question herself and those around her, finding herself frightened of a student who follows her home to ask for advice and a friend who sometimes watches her from his window.

In the Cut is a book that makes you think and is intelligently written but just flat sordid. The entire novel is heavily, rudely se*ual and offensive. Worst of all was the sense that cops, in general, are bad people. My overwhelming feeling, as I read the book, was: "What a waste of talent and skill." Susannah Moore can write; but, In the Cut would have been a good one to lock up in the file cabinet and label a practice manuscript. It's nasty, sinister, and in the end, horrifying. Not my thing. I can't recommend it at all and am somewhat stunned that I finished the book.

Just started: Of the Farm by John Updike.

Wouldn't be caught dead in:

These shoes. They are popular amongst the swim-club parenting crowd and I've heard they're extremely comfortable (as well as waterproof). I'd rather wear flip-flops and get blisters between my toes.

Just getting ready to: Take the sweet little fur beast for a recheck. She was due last week, but I didn't want to take the chance that she might end up stuck in a cage all weekend.

Off to search for the cat carrier. Happy Tuesday!

Chocolat by Joanne Harris

March has brought an end to the rain. The sky is raw now, a screeching blue between fast-moving clouds, and a sharpening wind has risen during the night, gusting in corners, rattling windows. The church bells ring wildly as if they too have caught a little of this sudden change. The weathervane turn-turns against the wheeling sky, its rusty voice rising shrilly.

Chocolat tells the story of Vianne Rocher and her daughter Anouk. A single mother and a drifter, Vianne arrives in Lansquanet-sous-Tannes during a carnival, drawn by the wind. She and her daughter open a chocolate shop in a former bakery and take up residence in the rooms above. Across from the chocolate shop, La Praline, is the village church, and Vianne's tempting shop angers the the local priest, Reynaud. How dare she tempt the villagers during the season of Lent? When Vianne decides to hold a chocolate carnival on Easter Sunday, Reynaud decides he must do his best to run her out of town. But, Vianne's shop and her touch of magic coax many of the locals to give in to happiness and their newfound strength may be too much for the father to fight.

I couldn't find an image of decent size, so I plunked my copy of Chocolat on our ugly old couch (we keep moving it closer and closer to our front door in the hope, I think, that one of us will suddenly invite a charity to haul it off) and photographed it. I just love that cover; I'd like to dive right into the photograph and walk the streets of France.

The book, though? Hmm, I don't know. This is another one I had mixed feelings about. Beautiful prose, achingly detailed descriptions that sometimes made me salivate (the candy, not the thought of Johnny Depp as Roux - okay, kidding), spirited and three-dimensional characters . . . there's a lot to love about Chocolat. I love Armande, the carefree woman about to turn 80 who chooses to defy her uptight daughter by wearing a bright red, silk slip and secretly meeting her grandson, Luc, in the shop. Guillaume is another lovely character, whose spirit rises with the help of Vianne and Armande after the loss of his beloved pet. Every character is believable and resonates, in some way, with a touch of familiarity; they're utterly believable.

What did I not like? Again, I'm not certain, but I'd say it might have to do with a feeling of negativity pulsing through the book - that toward organized religion. Vianne is a witch and this is reflected in the sachets she posts on the door frames, the way she forks her fingers to ward off evil. She's a good person and the priest is basically evil; he's the leader of a church for all the wrong reasons, justifies his actions regardless of how terrible they are and turns his personal vendetta into a church issue. There are plenty of pompous, self-righteous church leaders, no doubt; but it just seemed to me that the story was, in part, a castigation of Christianity and that didn't set well with me. They were both fighting their own personal demons; that I liked. The lengthy descriptions of various candies also were a bit tiresome. I'm impatient with an overload of detail, at least at this point in my life; that hasn't always been true.

I actually enjoyed the movie a bit more than the book, in many ways, as I thought the movie had a slightly lighter touch and more of a humorous spin. And, of course, it had Johnny Depp. I could only imagine him while reading the book and I had to keep mentally changing his hair color; red just doesn't suit him, in my mind. I can't remember if his hair is red in the movie, as it is in the book.

Since I liked the characters so much and thought Harris's prose was lovely, I feel compelled to give it an above-average rating and I will definitely read this author, again.

3.5/5

This is my 11th TBR book. So far, I've read the following from my stacks, this year:

The Nazi Officer's Wife - Elizabeth Hahn Beer
Summer of My German Soldier - Bette Greene
God is an Englishman - R. F. Delderfield (also a chunkster)
The Red Badge of Courage - Stephen Crane
The African Queen - C. S. Forester
The Captain and The Enemy - Graham Greene
Firehouse - David Halberstam
Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass - Lewis Carroll
First Light - Geoffrey Wellum
Stormbreaker - Anthony Horowitz
and, of course, Chocolat - Joanne Harris

11 down, 1 to go! Hope everyone's having a lovely weekend!

Bookfool, off for a nice soak in the tub

Stormbreaker by Anthony Horowitz

There's a strange, twisted reasoning behind the reading of this book. My son has read 5 of the 6 books in the Alex Rider series; and, he and the hubby bought me the movie as a gift (obviously, youngest may have had an ulterior motive). Youngest tried to convince me to read the books but I hesitated, a while back.

As to the movie, I have to admit that I was completely put off by the pretty boy who was chosen to play Alex Rider. When I first watched the movie, it was almost as if I was looking for things to criticize because I get so darn tired of all the gorgeous people. I want to see humans on-screen, not surgically altered or genetically perfect beings. Not that I don't like looking at good-looking men; but, skill and the ability to transform oneself into a character is more important to me than looking at another pretty face. However, I did enjoy the storyline and thought the movie was entertaining. I love lots of action.

Fast-forward to February and a marathon laundry-and-mini-series session. After watching The Forsyte Saga I was so impressed by two of the actors, Rupert Graves and Damien Lewis, that I looked up their bios to locate other productions in which I could view their work. I particularly desired to see Damien Lewis playing a character who was not so despicable as Soames Forsyte. As it turned out, Lewis is in Band of Brothers (which I'd like to see) and Stormbreaker (which, of course, I own). He played the Russian mercenary in Stormbreaker. Oh! I vaguely remembered the Russian. But, I didn't want to watch the movie, just to see Damien Lewis, if I could read the book first.

See, I told you it was all rather twisted.

Stormbreaker is a quick and adventurous young adult read, the story of a 14-year-old boy (Alex) whose uncle, Ian Rider, dies in a tragic accident. Or, so it seems. But, when Alex traces Uncle Ian's car to a wrecking service and sees the bullet holes, he realizes the police and the "bankers" Ian Rider worked for have been lying to him. Ian was, in fact, a spy for MI6 - Britain's top intelligence agency. When Alex is recruited to complete his uncle's mission, he finds himself in the same deadly situation as his uncle. Can he stop the wealthy man who is plotting lethal revenge upon his adopted country?

Okay, first of all, the book is far-fetched. But, what is the purpose of a novel in which a 14-year-old boy--trained in martial arts, climbing, diving, and foreign languages with the possible intent of following in his uncle's footsteps-- serves as hero, working undercover to foil a sinister plot? Obviously, action and entertainment is the objective. And, far-fetched or not, Anthony Horowitz knows how to pack in the action and humor. Personally, I have less trouble suspending disbelief when I know a book is designed with the intent to simply entertain and the author doesn't take himself too seriously. My impression was that Horowitz set out to write an action-packed book in which a teenage hero deals with some serious issues, shows his intelligence and capability, and triumphs over evil. Well, then, he succeeded.

I followed the book with a repeat of the movie and there were some differences, of course; but, I enjoyed knowing the background of the characters, recognizing the changes, and just being carried away in a silly but exciting story. Unfortunately, Damien Lewis had a fairly small part and, again, played a nasty man. Darn.

There was not a single passage which made me scramble to write down a page number or mark a quote; but, I'm rating the book high for entertainment value.

4/5

Coming up: Reviews of Someone Like You by Sarah Dessen and The Grizzly Maze by Nick Jans.

I'm floating between reads, at this point. Nothing seems to be grabbing me at all, so I'll thumb through some more books and hope I find the right one, tonight. We shall see.

First Light by Geoffrey Wellum

Up here the air is pure and clean. The sheer joy of flight infiltrates the very soul and from above the earth, alone, where the mere thought in one's mind seems to transmit itself to the aeroplane, there is no longer any doubt that some omniscient force understands what life is all about. There are times when the feeling of being near to an unknown presence is strong and real and comforting. It is far beyond human comprehension. We only know that it's beautiful.

Things are starting to get rough. Automatically I have followed my self-imposed drill that I always do at times like this. reflector sight on; gun button to fire; airscrew pitch to 2,650 revs; better response. Press the emergency boost override, lower my seat a notch and straps tight. OK, men, I'm all set. Let battle commence. Please, dear God, like me more than you do the Germans.

"Watch that bastard behind you, Yellow 2. He's close, boy, real close. Break Yellow 2, break you clot, break!"
There's even humour over the R/T and I laugh hysterically, confused and lonely.
"Blue leader, can you give me a hand? I'm just off to your starboard somewhere."
"Sorry, old boy, I've got three 109s on to me but don't worry, I've got 'em surrounded."

I reckon I'm a little above, just a fraction, and therefore gaining. God, I hope so. Coupled with fear, I now also feel a sense of anger. What right has this German to fly his snotty little aeroplane over our England and try to kill me? Who invited him? Just because he's stupid enough to believe his bloody Fuhrer and his master-race-dominating-the-world crap, he flies for his wretched Fatherland and tries to impose typical Teutonic bullying on our country. The bloody arrogance of it! Well, you'll not shoot me down you black-crossed sod.

No amount of training can prepare you for mortal combat. One has to realize before take-off that in order to have any chance of surviving and coming through you must remember a simple and straightforward golden rule: Never, but never fly straight and level for more than twenty seconds. If you do, you'll die.

First of all, I just have to say that I loved this book so much that I deliberately stretched the reading out to make it last as long as possible - at least, till I got close to the end. Then, of course, I got that itch to finish. However, the book was so utterly wonderful that I can't even begin to imagine parting with my copy.

First Light is the memoir of an RAF pilot who served during the Battle of Britain. At 17, two months before the outbreak of WWII, Geoffrey Wellum began training to become a fighter pilot. I like this part of the cover blurb: "Bursting with youthful energy and enthusiasm, he makes it through basic training to become the youngest Spitfire pilot in the prestigious 92 Squadron. Thrust into combat almost immediately, Wellum finds himself flying several sorties a day, caught up in terrifying dogfights with German Me 109s. Over the coming months he and his fellow pilots play a crucial role in the Battle of Britain. But of the friends that take to the air alongside Wellum, many never return." And then, yada yada, "gripping memoir of his experiences as a fighter pilot".

Gripping is right. While there were plenty of interesting, often humorous, moments on the ground, the most fascinating of his experiences usually took place while Wellum was airborne and were described in a way that made me feel like I was there, inside the Spitfire, living vicariously through him. I loved the chatty, journalistic style of his memoir. From all appearances, Wellum must have kept a journal. At times, he mentioned not having the time to write for a few days or weeks.

This is the first RAF fighter pilot's memoir that I've read. At AmazonUK, I noticed that Wellum's commanding officer in 92 Squadron also wrote a memoir. Of course, I jogged over to see what that was all about and I discovered that Geoffrey Wellum's memoir follows the standard pattern of RAF fighter-pilot memoirs: training, becoming an officer, going into battle. Similarity could become monotonous if one read such memoirs repeatedly, but I have not and Wellum's was thoroughly enjoyable. And, naturally, his commanding officer's memoir was promptly added to my wish list. I would really love to read a completely different perspective by someone else who served within the same squadron.

My only complaint would be the frequent use of technical jargon and terminology or abbreviations without explanation. But, most of those could be reasoned out, with a little thought. A jaunt online would have also helped, but I didn't bother because I still had a crap connection.

A word of warning about the reviews: I've discovered, lately, that Amazon reviews frequently - not just occasionally but frequently - contain spoilers. Even in a memoir, I don't want to know the ending ahead of time and I recall that there was at least one review that gave away a bit too much. Thank goodness I didn't view it till after I closed the book.

I'm giving this one my top rating because I loved every minute of reading.

5/5

Coming up: A review of Stormbreaker by Anthony Horowitz

Currently languishing unread: Great Expectations by Charles Dickens; I think I'll have to start over and skim what I read earlier because I set it aside for far too long.

Still bouncing up and down repeatedly because of: DSL! I love it!!!

On the to-do list: Choosing a pile of unread nonfiction for the Non-Fiction Five challenge. There are plenty of non-fiction books lying about, so it's really just a matter of narrowing down and deciding which books I need a kick in the britches to sit down and read.

Nifty moments I'm reflecting upon: Chatting about Kazuo Ishiguro's books with the clerk in Off-Square Books; watching a coach physically (and loudly) tug a youngster toward the pool, insisting that he would have to wait to use the restroom until after his event because, "You're up now!"; the food, oh my gosh, the food in Oxford.

Must go: Take a nice warm bath.

Bookfool, ready for a good soak

Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll

It is a very inconvenient habit of kittens (Alice had once made the remark) that, whatever you say to them, they always purr. "If they would only purr for 'yes,' and mew for 'no,' or any rule of that sort," she had said, "so that one could keep up a conversation!

I love that quote.

I've been hesitating to review this book for several reasons:

1. It's really, really difficult to describe.
2. Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass are actually two separate books under one cover. Disney warped my brain. Who knew?
3. Blogger weirdness. All of a sudden the little task bar has shrunk and there are several things I can't do - highlight and change text color, for example. How very annoying.

So, a few comments. Apparently, I'm into lists, today:

1. Lotus is so much better at this. If you want to read a decent review, go to her blog or straight to the entry here.
2. Wikipedia has a really terrific page about Alice in Wonderland.
3. According to the Wikipedia page, Oscar Wilde and Queen Victoria loved Alice in Wonderland; Terry Pratchett dislikes Alice. I'm siding with Oscar and Victoria on the first book and lean toward the words "nonsense without evident purpose" on the Looking-Glass portion (in spite of its obvious chess-game setting). But, that may be because I was so well-acquainted with the former, or thought I was.
4. Nonsense really fits me well, actually. I'm pretty much full of it.

Here's what little I know about Alice in Wonderland. The story was first told to a real little girl named Alice and her sisters to entertain them and was later expanded upon and published. I knew that much primarily because I've been to Oxford, England, where the story was created. At the time, I was much more interested in getting a glimpse of the fountain with a statue of Mercury in its center than hearing about Alice because I'd just read and watched Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh. I got my wish to see the fountain where one of the characters was "dipped in Mercury," and my aging camera picked that day to die. Of all places. So, I didn't manage to get a shot of the shop with Alice memorabilia, although I did take note of it.

In case there is anyone on the planet who isn't familiar with the story (and just happens to drop in), Alice in Wonderland is the tale of a young girl who tumbles into a rabbit hole and discovers a strange world where playing cards come to life, a cat disappears (leaving only his smile behind), and rhymes she's memorized in school come out all wrong . . . and too much else to mention. I have no idea why it took me so long to get around to reading this book, but it's loads of fun. My copy is the version shown above, with the wonderful original illustrations by John Tenniel. I think the fact that the illustrations fit the time period made the book even more enjoyable for me.

Among my favorite of the twisted rhymes is the following bit from You Are Old, Father William:

'You are old', said the youth, 'and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak--
Pray, how did you manage to do it?'

'In my youth,' said his father, 'I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw
Has lasted the rest of my life.'

Okay, I get that. I've argued a case or two with the husband. Hahaha.

The second book, Through the Looking Glass, tells about the backwards world Alice encounters when she steps through a mirror. Within this world, Alice becomes a part of a chess game. I found this particular story a bit too bizarre, although I still enjoyed it. Wikipedia helped to make a little sense of some of the characters - a man dressed entirely in paper, for example, bore a striking resemblance to prime minister Gladstone. The point of representing these characters in the way the author did is lost on me, unfortunately.

Both stories are very much products of the time period and location in which they were conceived and written, loaded with satire and puns, illustrations of real people, and political stabs. So, it's truly quite amazing that they're still fun to read. But, who wouldn't find it adorable to read about a "mock turtle", the kind you find in mock turtle soup?

I absolutely don't know how to rate this one. I loved the first story and found the second story baffling, but still loaded with great moments of silliness. I think I can't help but give it an excellent rating because it's so utterly clever, a bit like Douglas Adams' Hitchhikers series in that it was all extremely weird but in a wickedly fun way that not just any bloke off the pavement could have come up with. Yes, that's it. I've settled on excellent and I'm happy to have read Alice in Wonderland.

4.5/5

This was my fifth classic of the year, so I've officially finished the Classics Challenge, but I still have several I want to read this year. I'm not done with the Classics, just yet. Also, Alice has been sitting here a while, so the book is another one for the TBR Challenge. Wahoo!

Best moment of the day: Am I turning into a complete wacko? Because it seems a little weird that I've become incredibly enamored of my bird moments. Today, a hawk flew into a tree beside the highway upon which I was driving just after dropping the kiddo off at school. A bluebird whipped past, later. And, I found an Audubon bird guide tucked away in a drawer, thereby enabling me to determine that a bird I photographed in my backyard was a pine warbler. Wacko, wacko bird lover bibliophile chick. Well, so be it. I do adore nature.

Next up: A review of In the Presence of Mine Enemies: Faith Reborn in a POW Camp by Howard and Phyllis Rutledge, which I finished yesterday. And, a description of the totally unexpected, ridiculously romantic thing my husband did for Valentine's Day. Bet you can't wait.

Now wondering: Salmonella in peanut butter? What is the world coming to? If peanut butter isn't safe, Mom's apple pie is about to become suspect.

Grammar lesson of the day: Always write "female" when describing women in a particular profession. Female astronaut, female senator - not "woman"! You wouldn't call a male astronaut or senator a "man astronaut", right? Okay, just had to get that off my chest.

Are you going to end this post before the next federal holiday? Umm, okay. Yeah. I'll do that. But, the next federal holiday is coming up really soon. Yes, right, I'm done. Have a peachy day, booklovers.

The Captain and the Enemy by Graham Greene

"You can go now."
I turned my back and began to make for the classroom where I was overdue.
"I meant go with this gentleman, Baxter . . . What class do you miss?"
"Divvers, sir."
"He means Divinity," the headmaster told the Captain. He glared at the door across the quad from which wild sounds were emerging, and he swept his black gown back over his shoulder. "From what I can hear you will miss little by not attending." He began to make great muffled strides towards the door. His boots - he always wore boots - made no more sound than carpet slippers.
"What's going on in there?" the Captain asked.
"I think they are slaying the Amalekites," I said.
"Are you an Amalekite?"
"Yes."
"Then we'd better be off."

12-year-old Victor Baxter is taken out to lunch by a stranger who produces a note of permission from Victor’s father (aka, “the Devil”) on his birthday. While eating, the stranger--whom Victor comes to know only as “the Captain”--informs the child that he was won fair and square in a game of backgammon and then takes him to stay with a timid woman named Liza and changes Victor’s name to Jim. Because his mother is dead and Victor, now Jim, has never been happy either at his boarding school or with the aunt who has agreed to care for him between school terms (the Devil is seldom present), the boy accepts his kidnapping without complaint and even finds himself fairly happy living with a shifty man who is very likely a thief and a woman who has been damaged by an encounter with his own Devil father.

I was so curious as to other readers’ feelings about this book that I made the mistake of going to Amazon to read reviews, midway through reading The Captain and the Enemy. Big mistake; the first review contained a major spoiler. Don’t go to Amazon to read reviews unless you're willing to have a plot spoiled! I did, however, learn that this was Graham Greene’s final novel and that it’s not considered his best by the readers who left reviews. Reading on about Greene, elsewhere on the net, I discovered that Graham Greene was bullied in boarding school and eventually sent away to London for therapy and a change of pace. Aha! He began to sound much like Victor . . . or, rather, Jim.

I found this an easy and absorbing read and I liked it but must admit that the story was profoundly weird. In the end, I understood that it was a tale that aimed to point out how love can come in different forms. It was a sad, strange novel, very tragic in many ways and quite possibly even more bizarre toward the end; but, I liked the writing and if this were my sole introduction to Graham Greene, it would be enough to tempt me to read more by the author.

I was under the mistaken impression, in fact, that this was my first Graham Greene book. But then I looked up his writings and was reminded of another title, which I read many years ago: Travels with My Aunt. Nothing in that book stuck with me, although I do recall the cover was lavender. Hmmm.

3.5/5 - I thought the book was above average, as it read smoothly and I felt pulled in. I desired to know what would happen to Jim, whether anyone would bother to search for him, who the Captain really was, and whether or not Liza and the Captain would ever profess their love. But, it was also a little twisted and definitely tragic, possible too abrupt in its ending. Not excellent, then, but worth a read.

I don't think this one's a classic, but it's one that's been on the TBRs for a time - yea! One more knocked off the TBR pile!

Yesterday, I watched The Guardian while doing Nordic Track and read bits of Firehouse by David Halberstam. Okay, I'm going to need another upper, soon. I feel a fluff break coming on. Not that Alice in Wonderland isn't plenty light and flaky, but . . . you know. Romance with a happy ending sounds nice. And, maybe another bookmark-making break. I'm still terrified of casting-on; so, 6 weeks post-Christmas, I'm stopped dead on the concept of beginning to knit. There's something about that double casting-on method in Stitch 'n Bitch that confuses me completely. Knitters may feel free to drop by my house to give me a quick lesson. Suddenly, being a hermit seems like a bad thing.

Okay, I'm off to dig up the bills that need to be paid. Happy Thursday!

The African Queen by C. S. Forester

“We nearly done it that time,” he said; she could not catch the words because of the noise of the river, but clearly he was not discomposed.
Allnutt was acquiring a taste for riverine dangers--rapid running can become as insidious a habit as morphine-taking--apart from his new happiness in Rose’s society. Rose sat on the gunwale and kept her feet out of the water. She would not let her weakness be seen; she forced herself to be matter-of-fact.

In 1914, after Germans capture the local African villagers to train as soldiers and her missionary brother dies, Rose is left alone in an empty, isolated village in German Central Africa. When the man who delivers mail and supplies to their village, Charlie Allnutt, arrives, she insists that they must head toward the lake where the Konigen Luise (a German boat) patrols, to blow it up in the name of England. Rose and Charlie find love and adventure as they attempt to reach the lake at the end of the Ulanga River.

What I loved about this book: the language, the adventure, the romance, the visceral sense of life on an African river and the many perils the characters encountered. The author--also the author of the Horatio Hornblower series--was obviously very knowledgeable about boating, so the feeling of time and place along with the details of the workings of the African Queen (a flat-bottomed, 30-foot launch) and the descriptions of Africa really rock. My husband has read two of the Hornblower books and I definitely plan to read them.

What I didn't like: the ending. I'm afraid the ending was a huge let-down; in this regard, the movie is quite a bit better. I don't want to spoil the ending in any way, so I won't elaborate. I followed up the reading of the book with a viewing of the movie.

One item of interest: Charlie Allnutt is an English Cockney in the book, a far cry from the "Canadian" played by Humphrey Bogart in accent, but equally cheerful and loquacious.

I'm quite curious how other people feel about this book, so if you've read it please leave a comment and tell me what you thought. I enjoyed it enough to give it a high rating despite its ending.

4/5

The photo above shows my copy of The African Queen, which was discarded by the library eons ago and, therefore, qualifies it for the TBR Challenge as well as the Classics Challenge. Yippee to that!

Up next: A review of The Captain and the Enemy by Graham Greene and lots of housework. Blecch. You wanted to know that, right?

Anecdote of the day: While waiting for the pharmacist to fill a prescription for my husband, I overheard a woman talking about her mother's health. Mom was better but still not doing well, said the woman; and, unfortunately that meant she had to keep Mom's dog.
"It's a . . . a . . . what do you call that kind of dog? It's a Hilton! You know, the kind that heiress has?"
The pharmacist stared at her for a second and then said, "A chihuahua?"
"That's right!" the woman replied, pleased, and then she frowned. "Yappy little monster. I wish my mother would get better and take her dog back."

I really should get out more. You just never know what you're going to hear in the real world.

The Grizzly Maze by Nick Jans

This book is one that generated a lot of mixed feelings. I'm still not sure how I feel about it, entirely. I'd best back up, though, and explain how I ended up reading The Grizzly Maze.

July, 2006: Bookfool and family are spending the night in Kenai, Alaska (or, thereabouts), ensconced in a hotel that was originally a cannery. The room is a frightful fifty-four degrees when we arrive. We crank the heater, use the community bathrooms down the hall, and check out the lobby area of our building. In the lobby are some nice, comfy chairs, a coffee-maker, soft drink and snack machines, and a single shelf that slices two walls. The two branches of shelving contain a range of popular fiction (Tom Clancy, for example) as well as a good selection of Alaskan authors.

Bookfool locates a book by Nick Jans, cracks it open, and reads until the room warms up. Completely enraptured, she carries the book into one of the two adjoining bedrooms where the Bookfool Family (minus the eldest, who just returned from France) is staying. The youngster's room doesn't actually have a heater in it and is still frigid. So, he sets aside the Tom Clancy book he started in the lobby and goes to the check-in desk with Mr. Bookfool. They also have DVDs to check out and a DVD player hangs below the television set in the warmer of the two rooms.

Kiddo and Mr. Bookfool return with a moronic movie selection, which they proceed to turn on in the only warm room. The lobby is now colder than the warmest of the bedrooms. Bookfool attempts to read more, with the first movie blasting away, but is basically ADD and fails. She hastily writes " The Last Light Breaking - Nick Jans" in a notepad and eats pretty much everything in sight - trail mix, smoked salmon, hard-boiled eggs, all packed in a cooler; these are supper because the Bookfool Family did not realize they were going to be in the boonies and all have chosen not to go to the cannery's restaurant. They're tired, they're cold, and they don't feel like buying expensive food. Bookfool yearns for a bath and whines about the lack of a nice tub, then falls asleep.

In Anchorage, Bookfool later explores Title Wave bookstore. She has read about the store in Peter Jenkins' book Looking for Alaska but is using a backpack as her purse and chooses not to turn over all her valuables while perusing . . . store policy, you see. However, before she's sort of kicked out she scopes out the Alaskan section, which goes on seemingly forever. Nope, no copies of The Last Light Breaking. They have many copies of Looking for Alaska, though. Not surprising, as Jenkins did give them some free advertising. It's a great store, by the way, if you can bear to part with your luggage-sized purse.

Back home in Mississippi, Bookfool gets online and searches for The Last Light Breaking. Apparently, Jans' first book is only available used - and not necessarily at a decent price. Bookfool hastens to Paperback Swap and adds the book to her wish list. She notes that Jans also wrote about Timothy Treadwell, the bear-loving fellow who was killed with his companion. Bookfool recalls seeing a brief news clip about their deaths, including shots of bear country taken from a helicopter. A few weeks after Bookfool's return from Alaska, a friend views a movie about Treadwell and says, "He was very disturbed." Bookfool becomes curious and adds the book to her list, thinking, "Well, it's one way to read Nick Jans. Plus, I'd like to know what the deal was with the crazy bear dude."

Eventually, The Grizzly Maze arrives. The Last Light Breaking, unfortunately, has still not become available. Bookfool is in Nonfiction Mode and the book grabs her. But, it's not a pleasant read. The fact is, the book is an attempt to unravel the mystery of why Treadwell and his companion were not just mauled but eaten. Okay, yuck. And, were the two bears that were shot by National Park Service employees, who found their behavior threatening (one of whom did have a stomach full of people), guilty of attacking the couple as well as the rangers with predatory intent? Or did they just happen to find some food, pre-killed, and munch down? If the bear(s) turned predatory, was Treadwell complicit in his own death? Were the park rangers in some way also responsible, since they warned him but basically allowed Treadwell to continue breaking human-to-bear proximity rules?

*Warning: Possible spoilers and So Long it Might Put You to Sleep*

Jans arrived in Katmai National Park after the bears had been shot and eaten by other bears but before the scent of death had left the air. He ducked under signs warning of danger and denying access, in order to check out the campsite, but was spooked by a bear and fell, triggering an old ankle injury and causing the sad death of a Nikon camera body. But, not before he managed to snap off some photos that basically don't show much of anything unless you like looking at piles of dirt made by bears. Another question should be: Was the death of a Nikon worth the risk?

Back to the story. Timothy Treadwell is described from many angles. His history as a swimmer with a college scholarship that he lost due to injury, the fact that he glossed over certain aspects of his life in his own book, his showmanship, outgoing personality, years of drug use and eventual discovery that bears not only tolerated him but seemed to trust him on a trip to Alaska, yearly camping trips in which he continuously violated proximity rules, growing fame as he founded Grizzly People with former-girlfriend Jewel (not the singer), his appearance in various film productions and backing by well-heeled and sometimes well-known people (as well as some major companies, such as Patagonia), his tendency to be a bit of a con man who skirted rules and told fibs. All these characteristics are described with reservation of judgment held back.

Jans did describe Treadwell and his death in decent journalistic style. However, he approached from one angle and then another, interviewed someone who considered Treadwell a friend and then followed up with a bear scientist's scathing opinion, etc. I found the circling of the issues a bit confusing. Half the time, I was of the opinion that Treadwell was, indeed, a nut case. And, then Jans would leap over to an interview of some close friend and Treadwell suddenly seemed sane - misled and even naive, definitely a con man, but sane.

The gist is that Jans wanted to get to the heart of the issues and untangle a few mysteries that, in fact, couldn't be solved. Bears are wild animals. They avoid and ignore people, in many cases, but they can turn on a dime. There's no doubt that Treadwell was camped in a terrible place, right on the food path and during a bad year. But, was his presence irritating to a particular bear? Was the bear showing his dominance, treating Treadwell as if he were a badly-behaved younger bear? Did a bear attack out of hunger? These are questions that can't truly be answered. Jans tries to stay neutral, but I think part of his intent was to diffuse the angry blast condemning Treadwell for his own death while explaining that Treadwell's behavior was, in many ways, damaging - particularly to bears and potentially to people who misunderstand their dangerous, wild natures.

*End of potential for spoiling*

In the end, I decided Jans wrote an interesting book but it was a little too gruesome for me. I should have known better. Before leaving for Alaska, I read Larry Kaniut's Alaska Bear Tales (which Jans refers to as "a solid representation of the 'bear chew' genre") and had a nightmare that a bear sliced me open with a single claw. Gruesome tales are not my thing. I also thought Jans was just a teensy bit biased, but not necessarily in a bad way. He spoke to people who knew and loved Treadwell, one of whom was painfully grieving and wore her Curious George pajamas to the interview in her home. Treadwell was obviously a gregarious guy but not one who knew bear biology; people either loved him or hated him. Some think his activism for bears caused nothing but harm; some think he was basically harmless. Jans even adds some statistics about bear maulings and deaths.

In short, Timothy Treadwell in death becomes a mighty lightning rod crackling with emotion--one that encomapsses an amazing spectrum of human attitudes and ideologies. To some, Tomothy is a martyr; to others, a fool; some cast him as a cynical, self-serving narcissist, even a menace to wildlife. All the same man, the same basic set of circumstances. If nothing else, the death of Timothy Treadwell reflects the extent to which we project our own beliefs upon the universe.

Overall, it was a pretty good book in that Jans chased down and circled all the issues. The problems I had with it were that I should have known better than to read such a sad, horrible story and that people can only theorize about what happened - nobody can truly answer all the questions about how and why Timothy Treadwell and Amie Huguenard died. I guess I felt a little dangled. But, I still want to read The Last Light Breaking. Anyone have a copy they want to loan me?

I'm not going to rate this book because I thought it was well-written but too disturbing. I would rate it low because of the fact that I wanted everything all neatly tied up - mysteries all answered. That wasn't going to happen and the author shouldn't be penalized for not having the answers. He described the circumstances in great detail, interviewed people who had all manner of opinions, and did a truly good job of keeping his journalistic integrity. A little slant peeks through, but not enough to hotly criticize. Still, I kind of wish I hadn't read it because sometimes I can imagine the screams and see the faces of those two people. Their death was horrible. My favorite quote was a bit of advice a Tlingit (native Alaska Indian) man gave Nick Jans when he was a newcomer to Chichagof Island:

"If I'm going out to hunt or pick berries," he said, "I always do this: clap two or three times and say, 'Grandfather, I'm coming into your woods. I won't stay long and I don't want to bother you.' Always let Grandfather know what you're up to, and he'll let you by."

Other tales of Jans' personal experiences in Alaska tantalized me. Darn it, I want to read his first book!

Since I'm currently reading a very graphic war memoir, I should add a brief explanation. I think I enjoy reading memoirs from WWII because they describe a time when people understood sacrifice. I'm not reading for the descriptions of young men dying tragic deaths but for the narrative of one man who showed great strength in horrible circumstances. And, I must say, so far To Hell and Back is truly amazing.

So, on The Grizzly Maze: recommended with reservation for good writing, too gruesome for me, not willing to rate it. Okay, this one took forever to write so I'm going to try to get a little circulation back into my legs. Happy Tuesday!