1064-1067 (2021 #33-36) October 2021

The following two books were re-reads.  Originally read them for the "Moms' Night Out" Book Club (my friends in Washington State) in the 2001-2002 school year, when we started our book group since our kids, friends and classmates, started middle school and our opportunities to volunteer in their classroom and on their field trips (and thus see each other) plummeted to zero.  I picked up mass-market paperbacks of these books for next to nothing at a Friends of the Library book sale, and finally got around to reading them (so I could donate them back). 

The Bonesetter's Daughter, by Amy Tan, tells the story of three generations of women - a Chinese immigrant with an American daughter, and a birth mother who is the bonesetter's daughter of the title.  Most of the book is the immigrant LuLing's story, written as a memoir that her daughter Ruth has translated.  It covers her life (mostly in a village near where the Peking Man was found) in China, just before, during, and after World War II.  This part was sad but fascinating.  The book is more about family relationships (especially mother-daughter) than anything else.    

The Shipping News by Annie Proulx - Giant, gentle Quoyle (no first name is ever given, only the initials R. G. near the end of the book) loses his cheating, abusive wife in a car accident.  He moves with their two young daughters and his paternal aunt to the family's abandoned home in Newfoundland.  Quoyle takes a job with the local paper, The Gammy Bird, initially writing about car wrecks and "the shipping news" from the nearby port.  Over the following year, Quoyle and the reader meet the interesting townspeople (with quirky names like Tert Card and Wavey Prowse) and experience life in Newfoundland (particularly the impact of the weather and the sea).  Quoyle makes friends and learns to love again (himself and others).  

This novel won the 1994 Pulitzer Prize and the 1993 National Book Award, and was made into a movie in 2001 (which I don't intend to see).  Author Annie Proulx is a master at description, despite (or perhaps because of) a writing style full of sentence fragments.

Despite this, the book is pretty easy to read, thanks to short chapters, all of which have interesting names and associated quotations.  In the book's acknowledgments, Proulx states that Clifford W. Ashley's 1944 work, The Ashley Book of Knots, was an inspiration - without it, "this book would have remained just a thread of an idea."  Quotes and illustrations from that book make up most of the chapter headings, as well as some of the names.  For example, "quoyle" is a very old word for a coil of rope.

Small Pleasures by Clare Chambers - Jean Swinney is a 40-year-old single newspaper reporter living a dreary life with her widowed mother in 1957 England.  She mostly writes women's columns, like household hints, but one day 20-something Gretchen Tilbury contacts the paper and claims that her ten-year-old daughter Margaret is the result of a virgin birth.  Jean gets the assignment to find out if it's fact or fraud.

Gretchen and Margaret willingly participate in various medical tests that are supposed to provide an answer.  Meanwhile, Jean interviews various people who knew Gretchen ten years earlier, and becomes friends with the family, including Gretchen's much-older husband Howard.

I won't spoil the resolution of the mystery, nor the other surprise developments along the way.  I will say that I was extremely disappointed in the ending, as it left a number of characters hanging.  And that was a shame, as I enjoyed the character development as well as the depiction of life in late-1950s England.

Electrons by Mary Wissinger, illustrated by Harriet Kim Anh Rodis, is a cute. colorful book that may be over the heads of most two-to-seven-year-olds, the stated age range for the book.  In my state, the concept of atoms is not taught until middle school, and some of the vocabulary in this book (despite a two-page glossary at the end) would be a challenge even at the early elementary level.   The rhyming text (sometimes forced) might serve to reinforce the concepts with older elementary school children.

© Amanda Pape - 2021

332 (2013 #16). The Kite Runner

written and read by Khaled Hosseini

I first read this book in 2005, for a book club discussion.  Recently, I decided to listen to the audio version of this powerful story.  Khalad Hosseini does an excellent job reading his own work, and it's wonderful to have a reader who knows exactly how to pronounce the Farsi and Dari words he sprinkles in the novel.

Set in Afghanistan and Pakistan in 1975-76, 1981, and August 2001; and in Fremont, California, from 1981 through December 2001, this novel has as its backdrop the tumultuous recent history of Afghanistan - the overthrow of the monarchy, the invasion of the Soviets, the takeover by the Taliban, and 9/11.

The main character is Amir, son of a wealthy man in Kabul he calls Baba.  When the book begins in December 2001, Amir is 38, and he is remembering what happened that previous summer, when an old family friend calls from Pakistan.  The book then flashes back to Kabul in 1975, when Amir is twelve years old.  His main companion is a boy a year younger than him, Hassan, the son of his father's servant Ali.  Ali and Hassan are Hazaras, an ethnic group looked down upon by other ethnic groups in Afghanistan.  Amir and Hassan compete together in kite-fighting competitions, and Hassan is Amir's kite runner - the one who tracks down the kites they cut down and brings them back as trophies.  One day in the winter of 1975, something happens while Hassan is running a kite that changes things forever.

Besides providing fascinating insights into life in Afghanistan and for Afghan refugees in America during this period, The Kite Runner is also an exploration of betrayal and "a way to be good again," of the relationships between fathers and sons, and of the meaning of friendship.  Highly recommended.

The graphic novel version (pictured at left), illustrated by Fabio Celoni and Mirka Andolfo, doesn't have the depth of the original novel, but would be another good way (besides the audiobook) to introduce this worthwhile book to a reluctant reader.

© Amanda Pape - 2013

[The audiobook, a print copy for reference, and the graphic novel version of the story were borrowed from and returned to my local public library.]

327 (2013 #11). The Secret Life of Bees

by Sue Monk Kidd,
read by Jenna Lamia

I first read this book in 2004, with my book club in Washington state.  I remembered loving the book back then, so when I realized my university library had the audiobook, I had to listen to it.

What a joy that was!  Jenna Lamia has the perfect voice for fourteen-year-old Lily Melissa Owens, the narrator and protagonist.  I was not surprised when I realized Lamia also voiced Skeeter in the excellent The Help audiobook.  Lamia's got circa-1960s Southern girls down pat!

The action in the book takes place entirely in July and August, 1964, and entirely in South Carolina.  Lily blames her four-year-old self for her mother Deborah's death, an accidental shooting while her parents were arguing.  Her father, whom she calls T. Ray, is cruel, neglectful, and aloof.  The only person who seems to care about lonely Lily is the family's black maid, Rosaleen.

While they are heading into town from T. Ray's peach orchard, Rosaleen "disrespects" some white men, and she and Lily are arrested.  T. Ray gets Lily out of jail, but Rosaleen is beaten by her "victims" while she is there.  Lily decides to run away from home, and spirits Rosaleen out of the hospital where she's been taken for treatment of her beating injuries.  They hitch a ride to (fictional) Tiburon, South Carolina, because that's what's written on the back of a picture of a Black Madonna that, along with a photograph and a pair of white cotton gloves, are the only things Lily has left that were her mother's.

Eventually Lily and Rosaleen track down the source of the Black Madonna picture - a trio of beekeeping sisters who make honey with that image on the label:  August, June, and May Boatwright, who take Lily and Rosaleen in.

Two major parts of the story are the details on beekeeping and honey making (author Sue Monk Kidd obviously did her research, and quotes from many of her printed sources as the beginning of each chapter), and the veneration of Mary, the Mother of God.  The Boatwright sisters have an old ship's figurehead that has been worshiped by past generations as "Our Lady of Chains," and a group of local women called the "Daughters of Mary" have religious services centering on her.

Black Madonna of Czestochowa - Work found at
http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:
Original_Black_Madonna_of_Cz%C4%99stochowa.jpg /
CC BY-SA 3.0

There is no "Black Madonna of Breznichar in Bohemia" as referred to in the story (page 139), but there is an Our Lady of Czestochowa, Poland, whose image looks nearly identical to the label on the honey on the audiobook cover.

I loved the references in the story that evoked my own memories of 1964 (and a few years later):  besides the white cotton gloves mentioned above, there was going to charm school, the dyed biddies (baby chicks) for sale before Easter at the grocery stores, the smell of cold cream, bomb drills and fallout shelters at school, President Johnson and Lady Bird,  Walter Cronkite and Ozzie and Harriet on TV, holy cards, bottling plant locations printed on the bottoms of Coke bottles, and the eternal flame at JFK's grave.

There's a lot of humor in the book.  Lily thinks about a not-so-Christian preacher, "Pious people have always gotten on my nerves." (page 44).  And, when dessert in one meal is cold Cokes and salted peanuts (you're supposed to put the peanuts into the Coke),

"I wanted to make a cobbler, " Rosaleen told June, "but August said it was gonna be Cokes and peanuts."  She said "Cokes and peanuts" the way you might say "snot and boogers." (page 217)

I think Kidd gave Lily and her mother their names for a reason.  In chapter 11, there is a reference (on page 234) to a drawing of the Annunciation in the (fictional) "Mary Through the Ages" book in August's bedroom, where the Angel Gabriel gives Mary a lily.  "Melissa" means "honey bee" in Greek, while "Deborah" means "bee" in Hebrew.  Although these latter two meanings are never referred to in the book, I can't help but think Kidd was intentional in her naming.

There's also a lot of symbolism in the bees and beehives (discussed a lot on page 206).  I didn't know, for example, that bees are a sign of resurrection and eternal life.

I 'd like to write more about how this story affected me, but I don't want to give too much of the story away.  A good summary (that hints at some of the feelings this book evokes in me) is in the introduction to the Penguin Reader's Guide for this book:

...a powerful story of coming-of-age, of the ability of love to transform our lives, and the often unacknowledged longing for the universal feminine divine. Addressing the wounds of loss, betrayal, and the scarcity of love, Kidd demonstrates the power of women coming together to heal those wounds, to mother each other and themselves, and to create a sanctuary of true family and home.

I love this book, and I can't recommend it enough.  Definitely worth a re-read every few years.

© Amanda Pape - 2013

[The audiobook was borrowed from and returned to my university library.  I picked up a paperback copy of the book at a Friends of the Library book sale, because this is one of those books I want in my collection, to read again.]

318 - 320 (2013 #2 - #4). Three Cruise Reads

On my recent eight-day cruise, I managed to finish three novels.  Gold was my prize in a book exchange game in December; The Art of Fielding was picked up in the ships' book exchange (it had been on a lot of recommendation lists for book clubs, so I wanted to read it), and The Turkish Mirror was sent by a friend in my former book club in Washington - they were reading it and had the author visit their discussion.

Gold, by Chris Cleave, continues the Olympic theme of my previous read, Olympic Affair.  This one, though, is set (mostly) in a four-day period in early April, 2012.  Zoe and Kate are friends and Olympic-level competitors in track cycling.  Kate's husband, Jack, is another competitor, and he slept with Zoe in the past.  Zoe is a three-time gold medalist from 2004 and 2008; Jack won gold in 2004.  Kate didn't qualify for the 2004 Olympics due to caring for baby Sophie, and skipped her event in 2008 due to Sophie's illness - diagnosed as leukemia - which distracted Jack enough that he missed the start of his event.  Unfortunately, a rule change for 2012 means each country can only send one competitor to each event, not two, so a showdown between Zoe and Kate is imminent.

The plot is somewhat predictable, although a twist does come about 200 pages in.  Zoe in particular is not very likable, and with the mean things Zoe has done to her, it surprises me that Kate is her friend.  However, I enjoyed learning more about sprints in cycling and all the work (training and eating regimens) to be an Olympic-level athlete in this sport.  And I do love the book's cover art.

The Art of Fielding, by Chad Harbach, continues the sports theme, as most of the main characters play baseball, and the title refers to a (mythical) book by a (mythical) professional baseball player on the "art" of playing the game.

For amazing shortstop Henry Skrimshander, it's his Bible.  Henry is a small-town high school senior discovered by (mythical) Westish (northern lakefront Wisconsin) College Harpooners baseball team captain Mike Schwartz in a summer league.  The other main characters in the book are Henry's gay mulatto college roommate and teammate, Owen; the college president, Affenlight (who falls in love with Owen); and Affenlight's daughter, Pella (who falls for Mike).  The story is told from the point of view of each of these five characters. 

 Henry's never made a fielding error in a game, but the first time a throw goes awry (on page 69), it sets in motion the events of the remaining 443 (!) pages of the book.

I thought the characters were wonderful and very well-developed - even some of the minor ones, such as the other teammates, and the college dining hall supervisor.  Yes, it is a baseball novel, but it's more a college coming-of-age story.  I thought the ending was a little weak, though, with the scene in the cemetery a bit over-the-top.  Still, I'd recommend this book, especially for book clubs with both male and female members.

I had a tough time getting into The Turkish Mirror, by Seattle-area physician Lisa Murphy, because I'm not much for fantasy.  I'm sure others will love it for that very reason.

The two main characters, Tatyana and her daughter Jie, are both artists who are trying to escape the curse of an enchanted mirror made by Hades, the god of the underworld.  The story takes place in London, Paris, and a small village in Turkey, and the author makes good use of her visits there in the details.  The characters are quite international - Russian, Chinese, Indian.

Jie is a graffiti artist in London, and uses a lot of slang that's like a foreign language for me - a glossary at the end of the book might have been helpful. While I'm not a fan of graffiti, it was interesting and educational to read about graffiti as an art form, and how Jie created her works.

© Amanda Pape - 2013

[Gold is an advance reader edition, so it will be passed on to someone else to enjoy.  The other two books will be sold or donated to my university or local public library.]

231 (2011 #36): Salt: A World History

by Mark Kurlansky

My former book club in the Seattle area was supposed to read and discuss this book this year, which is why it was on my list.  I'm not sure if they actually did.  I know I can't recommend it to my current book club.  I'm afraid most of them would fall asleep.

The subtitle is a misnomer.  The book is not really a history of salt, but rather a collection of historical anecdotes.  They ARE interesting, and the choppiness of the 449-page book actually made it easier to read. (There are also a 13-page bibliography and 18-page index, but no end notes.)   I did find, though, that it was a good book to read at bedtime.  The book often DID put me to sleep, and it took me over a month to read it.

© Amanda Pape - 2011

[I borrowed this book from my university library.]

211 (2011 #16). Hotel on the the Corner of Bitter and Sweet

by Jamie Ford,
read by Feodor Chin

This was a wonderful love story, read first by my old book club back in the Seattle area, and last month by my local book club.  It's set in Seattle, in 1942 and 1986. 

Henry Lee is a 56-year-old recent widower in the latter year, when the story begins, passing by the Panama Hotel in Seattle when the hotel's new owner displays items found in the basement.  One of them is a colorful Japanese bamboo parasol that triggers memories for Henry.

In 1942, first-generation Chinese-American Henry is the only non-white at (fictional) Rainier Elementary in Seattle, forced to work in the kitchen at lunch and clean after school.  He is soon joined by second-generation Japanese-American Keiko Okabe, and they become fast friends, despite Henry's inability to introduce her to or even tell his parents, staunch Chinese nationalists, about her.  Henry's father makes him wear an "I Am Chinese" button everywhere he goes, so he won't be confused with the enemy Japanese.

Later Keiko and her family and all those living in Nihonmachi, Seattle's Japantown, are forced to leave and taken to the temporary "Camp Harmony" at the Puyallup Fairgrounds, south of Seattle.  Before they go, many families leave their belongings in the basement of the Panama Hotel, then owned by Japanese.

The cook at Rainier, Mrs. Beatty, becomes part of the staff helping to feed the internees at Camp Harmony, and she brings Henry along as her helper on Saturdays.  Not surprisingly, he's able to meet with Keiko there.  After Keiko and her family are transferred to the Minidoka Relocation Center in Idaho, Henry and his older jazz-sax-playing black friend Sheldon travel there so Henry can visit, and Henry and Keiko agree to correspond.

As the war goes on, though, Keiko's letters stop coming.  Eventually Henry moves on with his life, going back to China to finish his schooling, and marrying a Chinese-American girl.  He never quite forgets Keiko though.

I love the plot and the ending--it's a wonderful tale with themes of lost love, hope, and reconciliation with one's past.  I love the way author Jamie Ford built in real people and places (like jazz great Oscar Holden and Bud's Jazz Records in Pioneer Square), and made me feel like I was back in Seattle (I lived there for 21 years, including 1986). 

As historical fiction, though, this book does not succeed, because of many inaccuracies.  The first of these appear on page 4 of the hardcover first edition (and are in the audiobook).  The text states that Marty, Henry's son, was "dealing with his mother's death through an online support group," and in the same paragraph, Ethel, Henry's wife, "was interred with...Bruce Lee and his own son, Brandon."  The latter is impossible as Brandon Lee did not die until 1993.  The former is improbable:  very few people had access to online support groups in 1986.

Other reviewers have pointed out problems with World War II accuracy and translation of the Japanese phrase "Oai deki te ureshii desu" that are important to the plot.  These may seem trivial, except that the publisher has developed a teacher's guide for the book.  While it appears the author has done his homework on the internment camps and aspects of Seattle life in 1942, the other inaccuracies would make me question the veracity of that research, and thus hesitant to use this book in a classroom setting - at least not without a discussion of the book's problems BEFORE the book is read.

Another problem is the age of Henry and Keiko in 1942.  Although children in that era, and particularly from those cultures, tended to be more mature than children of the same age today, I still found the thoughts, feelings, perspectives, and relationship of Henry and Keiko to be unrealistic for twelve-year-olds.  I ran readability tests on an excerpt from the book and it measured out at a seventh- to tenth-grade reading level.  However, for the reasons mentioned above (and the length of the book, 285 pages), if I were to use it in a classroom, it would be with the older end of that grade range.  Would such students find this story about twelve-year-olds enjoyable and believable?  I think Ford could have made these characters a little older (maybe 14) and still maintained their idealism and innocence (especially for 1942).

While I can't recommend the book for classroom use (unless as described above), I can recommend it as an enjoyable read, and one that will make you think and want to learn more about this sad episode in American history.  It was a good choice for both book clubs as it generated a lot of discussion about the internments as well as the historical inaccuracies.  Actor Feodor Chin does a fabulous job narrating the audiobook and handling the accents.

© Amanda Pape - 2011

[This audiobook  was borrowed from and returned to my university library.  A hardbound copy of the book for reference was borrowed and returned through interlibrary loan.] 

192 (2010 #57). A Confederacy of Dunces

by John Kennedy Toole,
read by Barrett Whitener

I chose this audiobook because my book club back in Washington was reading and discussing the book.  I'd heard the backstory - the book was rejected by publishers, the author committed suicide in 1939 at age 32, and his mother pushed relentlessly to get the book published, which happened in 1980, and it then won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1981.

Set in New Orleans in an undefined time period (probably the early 1960s, when Toole wrote the book), the story revolves around the amusing adventures of 30-year-old Ignatius Jacques Reilly, who is overeducated and underemployed, as he tries to find (and keep) a job (but work as little as possible). One gets a feel for what Ignatius is like from the first two paragraph in the book:

A green hunting cap squeezed the top of the fleshy balloon of a head. The green earflaps, full of large ears and uncut hair and the fine bristles that grew in the ears themselves, stuck out on either side like turn signals indicating two directions at once. Full, pursed lips protruded beneath the bushy black moustache and, at their corners, sank into little folds filled with disapproval and potato chip crumbs.  In the shadow under the green visor of the cap Ignatius J. Reilly's supercilious blue and yellow eyes looked down upon the other people waiting under the clock at the D. H. Holmes department store, studying the crowd of people for signs of bad taste in dress.  Several of the outfits, Ignatius noted, were new enough and expensive enough to be properly considered offenses against taste and decency.  Possession of anything new or expensive only reflected a person's lack of theology and geometry; it could even cast doubts upon one's soul.

Ignatius himself was dressed comfortably and sensibly.  The hunting cap prevented head colds.  The voluminous tweed trousers were durable and permitted unusually free locomotion.  Their pleats and nooks contained pockets of warm, stale air that soothed Ignatius.  The plaid flannel shirt made a jacket unnecessary while the muffler guarded exposed Reilly skin between earflap and collar.  The outfit was acceptable by any theological and geometrical standards, however abstruse, and suggested a rich inner life.

Read by professional audiobook narrator and public speaking instructor Barrett Whitener, it comes to life with the distinct voices he creates for each of the memorable characters.  Among them are Ignatius' sort-of girlfriend Myrna "the minx" Minkoff; his widowed mother Irene, her friend Santa Battaglia and the latter's nephew Patrolman Mancuso (who tries to arrest Ignatius at the beginning of the book), and her suiter Claude Robicheaux; Gus Levy, his wife, and the employees of Levy Pants, the elderly Miss Trixie and Gonzalez the office manager (Miss Trixie always calls him Gomez); and the employees of the Night of Joy nightclub, the evil owner Lana Lee, Darlene the stripper, and most especially, Burma Jones, the black janitor. Whitener is especially outstanding with Jones' jive vernacular and Ignatius' bass bellowing.

The book is full of funny subplots that all tie together at the end in an unexpected way. Recommended.

© Amanda Pape - 2010

[This audiobook and a hardbound copy for reference were borrowed from and returned to my university library.]

124 (2009 #49). Ali and Nino

by Kurban Said,
translated by Jenia Graman

Originally written in German and published in 1937, Ali and Nino was out of print for decades and rediscovered and translated into English in 1970. It is set during the Russian Revolution and World War I, mostly in Baku in Azerbaijan, in the Trans-Caucasus area south of Russia and Georgia and north of Iran (then Persia), and between Armenia on the west and the Caspian Sea on the east. Ali is an aristocratic Shiite Muslim, Nino is a Georgian Christian princess, and they fall in love. Subtitled (in some editions) “A Love Story,” it does remind one a bit of Romeo and Juliet, particularly because of another sad ending.

I thought the way Ali's and Nino's personal stories reflected the clashing cultures (male and female, East and West, Asia and Europe, Muslim and Christian, desert and forest, tradition and modernity) of their homeland was fascinating. The book has been described as the national novel of Azerbaijan, inspiring a chain of bookstore/cafes and a historical walking tour of Baku.

I also thought the unclear authorship of the book was intriguing - the kind of thing that makes me want to research all the databases I have access to! Kurban Said is a pseudonym. Was the book really written by the Baroness , The Orientalist, both of them, or someone else?

90 (2009 #15). Blindness

by Jose Saramago,
read by Jonathan Davis

I listened to this audiobook because my long-distance book club back in Washington state was reading it earlier this year. I think the book was chosen because Saramago won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1998, three years after this novel was first published in Portuguese in 1995.

This is a horrific novel about the dystopia that ensues after an epidemic of inexplicable blindness. At one point, the events that occur are so disgusting and disheartening (gang rapes, among other things) that I simply had to stop listening to the audiobook and switch to a different book. I picked up a paper copy of the book at my university library and skipped ahead to the end. That was encouraging so I did go back and listen to the rest of this audiobook.

The audiobook is definitely the preferred format. Saramago uses little punctuation, apparently in all of his novels. Sentences run on for entire paragraphs, paragraphs go on for pages. The original translator died before his work was completed and another completed the revisions, and the translation comes across as word-for-word rather than edited. Being an allegory, the location and characters are all unnamed - the latter are referred to as "the doctor," "the doctor's wife," "the man with the eye patch," "the girl with the dark glasses," "the boy with the squint," and so on. Attempting to read the dialogue can be very confusing, as it's not clear who is speaking. The narrator, actor Jonathan Davis, does an excellent job using slight variations in voice to make each character unique - AND he pauses appropriately in this (too-)wordy book, making it easier to follow the story.

I used the cover from the print edition I used for this post, rather than less-interesting cover from the audiobook, which is a tie-in to the 2008 movie starring Julianne Moore. She's one of my favorite actresses, but I have no desire to see this movie. I'm glad I finished the book, but this is not one that I would re-read, nor would I recommend it to others.

67. The Time Traveler's Wife

by Audrey Niffenegger read by William Hope and Laurel Lefkow 

I would describe this book as romantic fantasy or a sci-fi love story. The hero, Henry DeTamble, can time travel (although he has little or no control over it), the heroine, Clare Abshire DeTamble, cannot. For Clare, they first meet when she is 6 and he is 36; for Henry, they first meet when she is 20 and he is 28.

The time-traveling acts as a marvelous metaphor for love, how it changes, how it's always affected by the past and the future. The book won the 2005 Arthur C. Clarke Award (the United Kingdom’s top prize for science fiction). 

I will admit up front I am a sucker for time travel stories (not otherwise being much of a fan of sci fi). I think this one is especially interesting because it explores lots of aspects of time traveling - not revealing the future to those in the past, predestination paradoxes, determinism versus chaos, free will versus God’s purpose, etc. - and has the characters discussing them. I also find it interesting that the author portrays Henry’s time-traveling as a genetic disorder that might be curable or controlled at some point – this impacts the storyline. 

 I think the time traveling in this book is especially interesting. Usually, time travelers don't seek themselves out in other time periods to interact with themselves. I think it's very interesting that the adult Henry is the one who trains his small self how to survive the time jumps. Clare learns from Henry growing up and then teaches him how to accept himself as worthy of affection after they meet in real time. Henry considers Clare to be the stabilizing force in his life. 

Clare has "known" Henry for 14 years by the time they actually meet in real time, but it's the opposite for Henry. There is something very appealing about someone who seems to understand you completely and is very comfortable around you. I could relate to the characters and the setting. I was born in Evanston, a Chicago suburb, and still have a lot of family in the Chicago area. I remember visiting the Field Museum in 1970, just a couple years after Henry's first visit. Like Clare, I went to Catholic school for grades 1-12. I thought Clare as a Catholic schoolgirl was pretty realistic! 

However, I could have done with less of the music details in the book - all the names of the punk and other groups that Clare and Henry liked to listen to. I feel that will date the book further down the line. Conversely, it might have been interesting to hear a little more about Clare's paper art. 

The book also has a lot of unique metaphors: Henry reflecting on his double self that's five years older ... "I envy him......whatever pleasures are to be had, he's had them; for me they wait like a box of unpoked chocolates." (p. 152) When Henry doesn't recognize the little gifts he's given Clare over the years when he's visited the Meadow .... "all the little tokens and souvenirs in this museum of our past are as love letters to an illiterate." (p. 170) From the letter Henry left for Clare (p. 519): "Our love has been the thread through the labyrinth, the net under the high-wire walker, the only real thing in this strange life of mine that I could ever trust." 

This was a difficult read for me the first time around (in 2004), but it was easier the second time. I learned the hard way the first time I read this that you really have to pay attention to the dates and ages at the beginning of the various sections. It all comes together more by the end of the book. I found a blog where the author has constructed timelines for the book. BE FOREWARNED - there are spoilers in the timelines - but they might help by the time you finish the book: http://youknowjack.fivewells.com/archives/2006/01/time_travelers.html. 

The author had two timelines (perhaps Henry’s and Clare’s?) to help her stay organized while writing the book. Niffenegger, a writer, artist, and professor in the Center for Book & Paper Arts of the Interdisciplinary Arts Master of Fine Arts program at the Columbia College Chicago, says the story was inspired by the love between her maternal grandparents. Her grandfather died young, and her grandmother, who lived another three decades, never remarried. "I wanted to write about a perfect marriage that is tested by something outside the control of the couple." 

I think this book is one of those ones you either love or don't. I personally love it; I've always been fascinated by time travel stories and the whole structure of this book is so unique. I guess its aspects of timeless love mesh so well with my own life that I can relate a lot to its themes. When two people meet at a young age and have a relationship that lasts through the years (at least for Clare), consciously or not they would influence each other's development, so if they had not met, they would surely be different people. 

I originally met the love of my life when I was 22 and he was 37; we dated for 4+ years but did not marry for various reasons. We re-met at 48 and 64. We'd only seen each other once between ages 27-48 (me) and 43-64 (him), and there were only some Christmas cards/phone calls/e-mail messages otherwise, as we both ended up marrying (and divorcing) other people in between. We thought/dreamed about each other a lot though. In a way, after we re-met, it was kind of like time-traveling back to our past - all the passion was still there. I know I would have been a very different person if we had not met the first time, and he says the same. 

A little oddity that caught my interest (being a librarian) - when Henry has his "foot dreams," he describes a box in the Newberry Library in Chicago that contain his feet, with a call number of CASE WING f ZX 983.D 453. There are no Dewey or LC call numbers that correspond to even parts of this, but I did see that the real Newberry Library Special Collections includes a section on printing, book arts, and the history of the book funded by the John M. Wing foundation: http://www.newberry.org/collections/wing.html I did find 8 items with both "CASE WING" and "ZX 983" in the call number, but nothing with this exact number. I’m not an expert, but it sounds like an archival cataloging system. The "D 453" might refer to DeTamble. 

I listened to the unabridged audiobook version for this reread. William Hope (as Henry) and Laurel Lefkow (as Clare) are fantastic! It's very easy to keep track of the viewpoints with the audiobook. At first I didn't care for Hope's slightly cynical and strident voice, but I have grown to feel it is appropriate. Lefkow is absolutely marvelous, makes Clare sound like a little girl and a teen as needed. I would definitely recommend this audiobook to others!

66. Moloka'i

by Alan Brennert

This is fascinating historical fiction set in Hawaii from 1891, when Rachel, the main character, is five, until her death in 1970. At age seven, Hawaiian native Rachel is diagnosed with leprosy and ultimately sent to Kalaupapa, the leper's colony on the island of Moloka'i, the one made famous by future saint Father Damien.

Brennert has done extensive research on leprosy, Kalaupapa, and Hawaiian history, and has even incorporated real places and people from the era, such as Mother Marianne Cope and politician Lawrence Judd, into the story. It has motivated me to read more about these subjects. Even better, Brennert has made Rachel and her friends and family into real people that the reader will really care about.

34. East of the Mountains

by David Guterson, read by Don Hastings

I listened to this audiobook as it was the selection for my former, now long-distance/out-of-town book club. It's the story of a retired Seattle heart surgeon now suffering from colon cancer, who takes a hunting trip to Eastern Washington (east of the mountains), where he grew up, to stage a suicide.

The audiobook was read by Don Hastings, who has played Dr. Bob Hughes on the soap "As The World Turns" since 1960. I used to watch this TV show a lot in my son's first year, when he took an afternoon nap! Hastings' voice (besides bringing back this memory) was perfect for this narration, controlled yet emotional.

Anyway, I really enjoyed the book - the descriptions of the Snoqualmie Pass area and eastern Washington (Wenatchee, Vantage, etc.) brought back some good memories from my own trips to those areas during 21 years living in the Seattle area. I also checked out a print copy of the book and was glad I did so for the maps on the end papers of the areas described in the story.

The only parts that were tough for me to handle were some of the medical descriptions (sewing up the dog, the heart massage during WWII, the woman giving birth. etc.). Maybe it was something about it being read aloud that it was hard to skip over - I don't handle that kind of stuff very well!

I liked Ben's flashbacks to his youth and WWII, and thought it was interesting that smoking marijuana brought up those memories (perhaps reducing the pain from the colon cancer enough so Ben could have good dreams instead of bad?). It was nice to see that those memories and the other experiences and people Ben encountered during his road trip brought him around to what I think was the right decision about his life. Recommended.

15. Cloudstreet

by Tim Winton

I read this Australian author’s book for my long-distance book club. Long story short – meh.

This book is apparently studied in junior/senior level advanced English in New South Wales, and I’m a little leery of books full of (vague) symbolism and metaphors in book discussion groups – I thought I left that all behind in high school!

The title comes from the address of the large old house shared by two families in Perth – 1 Cloud Street, which comes just be known as “Cloudstreet.” The two families that live there, the Lambs and the Pickles’, are rather odd, but very interesting characters. I did enjoy reading about their eccentricities and adventures, and learned something about what life was like in Western Australia from 1943 to 1963.

Perhaps if I’d actually been able to participate in my book club’s discussion (it only works well when I call from a land line at work to a land line with speakerphone at the other end, and that was not possible for this meeting), I would have gotten more into the book. Or perhaps it would have helped to be Australian. A good source for some background information on the novel is Penguin Notes for Reading Groups for this book.

5. Snow Flower and the Secret Fan

by Lisa See

This is a sad story of friendship and tragedy, set in the 19th century in a remote part of China. Author Lisa See, who is Chinese-American, did extensive research in China to provide the cultural and historical background for her story.

The narrator, Lily, is an 80-year-old widow looking back from 1903 on her long life. She describes in detail the process of her footbinding at age 7 (which killed her younger sister). She also details her education, particularly in nu shu, or “women’s [secret phonetic] writing.”

Shortly after this, a prominent matchmaker suggests for Lily a laotong, or “old same” match with a girl from the clan of a potential husband for Lily. Snow Flower shares Lily’s birthday and other characteristics, but is of higher social standing. As laotong, they can be friends for life, and a close bond develops between them over the next ten years, the only real highlight in lives lived mostly in an upstairs room. They send nu shu messages to each other on a fan when they are apart.

At 17, Lily marries into a prominent family from Snow Flower’s village, and a month later Snow Flower marries. Lily finally gets to visit Snow Flower’s family of origin, and learns the truth about her friend. Lily’s feelings of betrayal color her relationship with Snow Flower (and others) from then on, but their friendship continues. Many years later, after a typhoid outbreak and the Taiping Rebellion further changes their lives, a misinterpreted nu shu character on the fan causes even more sorrow and regret.

Descriptions of many other Chinese customs, folktales, and the numerous ceremonies and festivals were fascinating. I thought it was particularly interesting that a woman continued to live primarily with her family of origin until she first became pregnant, and even after that spent numerous festivals with her natal family. I also thought it was interesting that in their dialect, the word for “wife” is the same as the word for “guest” (page 112), the word for “child” sounds the same as that for “shoe” (page 90), and the first character in the word for “mother love” means “pain” (page 4).

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan is a fascinating and heart-rending book that was hard to put down, with a message about true friendship that applies even today – accepting your friends they way they are, not as you wish them to be.

ETA 9/17/08: I "re-read" this book in order to lead a book club discussion on it via audiobook. The version was abridged, but did not leave out anything pertinent to the main story (with the possible exception of the fact that Lily chose - to avoid bickering - concubines for her husband late in life, to increase his prestige in their city and to please him). The narrator was Jodi Long, who does a great job expressing the emotions of the main characters, especially during foot binding, but who has a slight lisp which is distracting. This story, though, continues to grow on me, and I can't recommend it highly enough.