The day after Labor Day…the streets have cleared, the beach is left to locals (can you hear the howl of the surfers?), many shops will remain closed today, and we will all begin holding tighter to our pennies.  Yes, the day after Labor Day and Seaside, Oregon is officially a ghost town.  So, either this is a time of celebration (time for reading, faithful blogging, house cleaning, and a bit more reading) or I can go into a state of mourning (empty pockets, no new faces, and the promise of rain…for months). Joy and sorrow.  Laughter and a tear…holy cats, I am segueing into Gihlil Gibran!! Regardless, I am going for celebration with just the right splash of darkness.  Carl over at http://www.stainlesssteeldroppings.com/ is offering the perfect advent to autumn: the R.I.P. IV Challenge…”It was a dark and stormy night….” The goal is to celebrate gothic literature: mystery, suspense, thriller, dark fantasy, gothic, horror, and supernatural. I am choosing Peril the First; I will be reading at least four books of any length, from any subgenre of scary stories that I choose.

This is my list, thus far:

Sandman Graphic Novel series from Neil Gaiman

Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane

Girl with Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson

Dracula by Bram Stoker

The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova

Yes, I have five, actually a few more if I read the complete Sandman series, but I am leaving myself a bit of moving room and also being rather optimistic about how much time I will have to actually read. 

What’s the biggest book you’ve read recently?

(Feel free to think “big” as size, or as popularity, or in any other way you care to interpret.)

Big book (brick sized book):    

Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell.  My G-Ma recently reread it and she wanted me to do the same.  So I did; it is still amazing and large…

Big in popularity:

The Sandman Preludes & Noctures by Neil Gaiman.  I love, yes love, Neil Gaiman.  This series has been around for awhile and though I have read all of his novels, I just finally read the first of this series.  Today I received the second, The Doll’s House.  Whoop whoop!

Big in scope:   

Hakawati by Rabih Alameddine. It has it all: life and death, love and loss, family history and individual journeys, legends and fables, good guys and bad guys…and a few kick-ass women! BIG, BIG BOOK.   I will go so far as to say it may be my favorite book of the year. 

Yes, I Love  Russell Brand…

slightly dirty, blatantly androgynous; the man just oozes sex and giggles or giggles and sex.  His memoir My Booky Wook is Brand at his best…as himself.  He writes much the same way as he speaks and for that alone, I laughed.  He is well know for his brash need  to infuse humor into any situation–whether it be funny or not–and he applies this to his own life.  Funny and hot, what more could a girl want?

Funny reads with few words…

Cody, Mason and I giggled like the nasty children we are in the bookstore while perusing through this funny!

And just one more…

This is one of my favorite books!  I laughed…and yes, we all know the end…I cried.  But I laughed…the snort, can’t-catch -my-breath, might-have-peed type of laugh! Out loud.  In public. But it was okay because I passed the book along and soon I wasn’t the only one laughing.  So what’s the funniest book you’ve read recently?  What has made you laugh so  loud that you had to pass it along just to drag someone else down to your level of giggle-fits?

WINNER OF 2009 MAN BOOKER PRIZE!

If you haven’t read Munro…you should. She is hands-down brilliant. I can read her while driving.  Yes, that is how good she is; or how crazy about her I am.   Okay, don’t clear the roads yet…I don’t read her while driving through school zones or your local neighborhood. I am not a complete psychopath…rather self-destructive. Honestly, I have only read her on long stretches of straight, tedious roads created to induce spasms of mania in those in possession of ADHD.  Really.  And I can line the book up perfectly with my line of vision. Believe me…I have spotted numerous police while reading long before they have spotted me. Actually, some believe I pay more attention to the road while reading than when not.  Now that says something.  But what?  Promise, stick a thousand needles in my eye, there are very few writers that make me behave this blatantly bad; Alice Munro is one of them. She deserves this award and my fatalistic awe.  Read her…and please don’t read while driving; it is stupid!

And so many choices… 

Dance of the Happy Shades

Lives of Girls and Women

Something I’ve Been Meaning to Tell You

Who Do You Think You Are?

The Moons of Jupiter

The Progress of Love

Friend of My Youth

Open Secrets

Selected Stories

The Love of a Good Woman

Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage

No Love Lost

Vintage Munro

Runaway

The View from Castle Rock

Too Much Happiness

Oh, Tana French, I love you.   I loved The Likeness…from the top to the bottom.  I read French’s first novel, In The Woods, and when the end hit I wasn’t sure if I wanted to love or hate French but one thing was obvious…I respected her, respected her writing style, her plot and character development, and even the way she left me wondering wtf at the end.  I waited with trepidation for French’s follow up novel.  Ummm…would she be able to do it again?

Shame…let me bow down now; I will never doubt again.  The Likeness is even better than In The Woods.  This is partially due to the fact that I found the main character of In The Woods, Rob Ryan, obscenely stupid, actually I sort of just wanted to kick him in the mouth, and other places, with the hopes of curbing some of his stupidity.  But the character of Cassie I enjoyed and was happy to hear she would be back in The Likeness.

Cassie Maddox has transferred to Domestic Violence from Dublin’s Murder Squad after a case (read In the Woods) unravels not only a murder but also the investigators on the case. However, it isn’t long before Cassie is called to check the remains of a murder victim—a young woman who looks exactly like Cassie, a young woman going by the alias that Cassie used in an undercover case years before, Alexandria Madison.  Now Frank Mackey, Cassie’s former undercover boss and my new character crush, in an attempt to find the girl’s murderer, wants Cassie to once again become Lexie. This time she’ll have to enter the world of Lexie created by a dead girl. While Cassie is still unsure of her own world, she agrees to move into Lexie’s and try to catch her killer.

So…Cassie, as Lexie, shows up alive at Whitethorn House and into the loving arms of Lexie’s roommates: Rafe, Daniel, Justin, and Abby.  But is all well here in this home of the temperamental literature majors?   Is one of them, or perhaps all of them, responsible for Lexie’s death?  Or did Lexie die at the hands of one of the local townsfolk bent on revenge for a hundred year old grudge?  Or an angry relative wanting part of Whitethorn House?  And who is the woman behind the Lexie Madison alias?  Who? Who? Who? And why? Why? Why?

That is French’s strength.  The who? The Why?  And it is all built on characterization.  While The Likeness is a mystery, its strength comes from its characters.  The inhabitants of Whitethorn House… I loved them all.  What lit nerd wouldn’t?  They are witty, sarcastic, and smart enough to realize their own social oddities which are part of the reason they have chosen a life together.   A seemingly perfect life built around an old house, friendship, wine filled dinners, and conversation.  It is a world very opposite from Cassie’s own and she soon wonders if it is not here, in Whitethorn House, that she belongs.  Cassie’s journey leads her on a quest not only to find the murderer, discover who Lexie Madison really was, but also on a quest to find herself. 

On of the early lines in the book seems to capture the mood of most of the characters in the book:

Being easily freaked out comes with its own special skill set: you develop subtle tricks to work around it, make sure people don’t notice.  Pretty soon, if you’re a fast learner, you can get through the day looking almost exactly like a normal human being. (8)

Cassie, the inhabitants of Whitethorn House, and Lexie Madison what this: to hold to a perfect moment or situation in the hopes of creating the perfect self. However, time and human nature rarely play fair; sometimes all that is left are memories, good and bad, and the necessity to move forward.  French is excellent at displaying, through her characters, the human desire for security, happiness, acceptance and the ramifications of holding too tightly to a changing situation. 

I am not generally a mystery fan as I tend to find myself rooting for the bad guy and this book was no different. My friend, Mary, has numerous theories about my love of bad guys but I have to argue that with The Likeness I am justified.  I am. I am. French’s characters are very human and as such own traits of good and bad and I found myself empathizing on numerous levels. I look forward to French’s future work.

OHHHH….JOYYYYYYYY…I just learned that Frank Mackey will be the narrator in French’s next novel!  Did I mention that I have a character crush on him?  Oh yes, sickness!

4.5 out of 5—excellent book!

Prolific, look it up. There she is.     

Joyce Carol Oates.  To many this is a negative, somehow unliterary. At times I would agree that prolific does not a good writer make: Grisham, Steele, Patterson, yes, the list does go on.  However, I don’t care how prolific a writer is as long as the writing is done well; Oates writes well.  Always.  My Sister, My Love is no exception.  Oates once again explores, dissects, and broadcasts the gothic darkness of society and I as a reader was captivated, appalled, and ashamed.  Isn’t that the point of this story?  This JonBenet Ramsey reality loosely dressed-up, fictionalized account of the Rampike family.   Did I say loosely dressed-up?

Dysfunctional families are all alike. Ditto “survivors.”

Thus Sklyer Rampike introduces us to his family and to himself.  The survivor—the boy that could have been a child prodigy, the brother to the most famous six year old ever, the brother believed by many to have killed his most famous sister, a drug-addled boy left alone to wade through the destruction that was his family.  And this time he is taking us with him. 

The Rampikes are a family on the rise.  Charismatic Bix Rampike is a corporate hot-shot moving up quickly.  However, his wife, Betsy, is finding the social stairwell of Fairhills, New Jersey not so easy to climb.  She lacks the polish, perhaps pizzazz, maybe the fight to be a lead player on women’s social circuit. But what Betsey lacks she hopes to find in her children.  Ahh…the power of the womb!   It is to young Skyler that she turns first.  Not so much for a social stepping-stone, at first, but for his unconditional love and support.  Mommy’s little man.  Together they take lone drives far from the family home, Betsey’s social inadequacies, and young Edna Louise and all her pooping and crying.   Then Betsey comes upon a pair of skates and wasn’t she almost a famous skater and might not Skyler have inherited some of her talent?  No.  But fret not, because Bix enters the game and takes young Skyler to the gym with demands of turning the six year old into a world class gymnast.  Instead Skyler is left with a permanent limp and any illusion of being a child prodigy destroyed…however, there is a but.  But. But.  But now little Edna Louise is no longer merely a pooping nuisance…she wants to skate; she can skate.   Bliss Rampike is born.

The Rampike’s have found another way up the social ladder.  Joy.  And the children? Skyler, Mommy’s little man, is an overmedicated, limping “dwarf.”  I couldn’t help but picture the hunchback, albino, dwarf narrator Olympia (Oly) Binewski from Katherine Dunn’s Geek Love.  If you haven’t read that book, you should.  Dunn is disturbingly brilliant.  Bliss, nothing remaining of Edna Louise but a ratty old doll, is a skate angel, complete with glossed lips, shellacked hair, and growth hormone injections. Betsy is in her element; everyone wants a piece of Bliss and to get to her they need to go through Betsy—and she is more than willing to comply.  Bliss wins trophies, is interviewed, photographed, and loved—by her town, magazines, and fans across the nation. Some are safe; some not so much.  And if Bliss is loved then is not the whole Rampike family loved? Respected? Accepted?  Isn’t that the American way?  Success at any cost?  Even at the cost of a child’s well being?   Marriages?  Self-respect?  Yes, as long as the family Christmas picture is printed all glossy perfect on the cover of a magazine…SOCIETY WILL LOVE YOU! Clamor to grab a glimpse of you on T.V., in the check-out line of Safeway, talk of your beauty on work breaks. We will love you; then we will wait for you to fall.  Hard.

Just like we waited for such people as Michael Jackson to fall over and over again so we could, at our choosing, claim adoration or repulsion. Either way, we never stopped looking.  This is where Oates shamed my cheeks bright red. Up to this point, drawn in by the tormented voice of Skyler, I allowed myself righteous indignation at the Rampike’s disregard for their children’s happiness, mental wellbeing, even their physical safety.  I was better than the Rampikes, a better parent, a better person. But then a thought hit me dead between the eyes. I have watched! Just last week I was flipping through the net, looking for Michael photographs…before (weirdness) and after (weirdness and worse)! I sat up all night to watch the funeral of Princess Di!  I camped out at the local magazine shop the week Kurt Cobain died, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t so! Yep, I saw Brittney’s shaved head and Rihanna’s black eye.  Even worse—I watched Parent Trap and LOVED Lindsay Lohan! And, yes, I can clearly call to mind the picture of JonBenet Ramsey that graced the cover of every magazine after her death. 

My Sister, My Love is at heart a family tragedy—the flawed thinking of selfish parents, and the irreparable damage done to their children—but Joyce doesn’t for a moment let society walk away with a completely clean conscious.  Such tragedies and the frenzy that follows them say much about our society.  I fear none of which is good.   National newspapers are failing one after the other; while celebrity tabloids continue to catch our attention at every check stand.  There are television shows that follow families with young children that have no voice in what is happening.  You can watch tiny girls, painted-up and barely dressed, compete with one another in beauty pageants.  Maybe they are not our children but do we as a society, as the watchers, contribute to this strange exploitation? What is your thought?

4 out of 5 stars. 

I would love to give My Sister, My Love 5 stars but felt at times it was too long and bogged down.

Now that summer is here (in the northern hemisphere, anyway), what is the most “Summery” book you can think of? The one that captures the essence of summer for you?

(I’m not asking for you to list your ideal “beach reading,” you understand, but the book that you can read at any time of year but that evokes “summer.”)

“That was the summer Dill came to us.” Yes, To Kill a Mockingbird is pure summer to me–childhood, friendship and innocence.  Other books that capture the essence of summer for me include: Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn.

As for summer reading…well, while in college I couldn’t wait for summer break just to engage in reading that wasn’t required.  One summer I went through a French phase, reading Hugo, Camus, Voltaire and Dumas. None of which are regarded as beach reads or even necessarily involve summer; however, I will always remember reading Dumas’ The Three Musketeers, Twenty Years Later, and The Man in the Iron Mask, one after the other, laughing and crying, and realizing the true beauty of a hammock, blue skies, cold drinks, and swashbuckling friendship! Ahh…summer and dancing musketeers!

This summer I am re-reading Gone With The Wind with my Mama, as her Mama, my beautiful Grandmama, has just done so herself. So what about your summer reads?

Mariel suggested this week’s question

Book Gluttony! Are your eyes bigger than your book belly? Do you have a habit of buying up books far quicker than you could possibly read them? Have you had to curb your book buying habits until you can catch up with yourself? Or are you a controlled buyer, only purchasing books when you have run out of things to read?

Book Gluttony?  Is there such a thing as too many books?  Is it gluttony?  Addiction?  Love? Need?  Oh…yes, all of them and I have it bad.  I have books on shelves, in kitchen cabinets, under my bed, all over my car; even my roommate has to share closet space with my books.  I would estimate at this moment that I have about thirty books on my tbr list…and no, I have no control.  If I get a book in and I want it…I take it home.  Done deal. Mine. I have no guilt and truly figure, books hold well and I find comfort in the fact that they are there waiting for me.

J

Aww…Monday, the day I somehow can’t get my shoes on the right foot or my hands to hold still; the morning my heart is clutching to lackadaisical Sunday while my head is all grab-hand  reaching for next mad capped Friday.  Monday! Blahhhh…torn between the loss of the past and the hope of the future…separated by five long days of work!

So…to avoid reality further…let’s ponder…ZOMBIES!

I finally got hold of a copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies by Jane Austen (of course) and Seth Grahame-Smith.  Pure joy! What could be better?  Well, how about an all out Zombie week? Yes, it just gets better and better. So, I have consulted my handy-dandy brother-man for a list of the quintessential zombie flicks and this is what we’ve got: 1. the original Night of the Living Dead 2. the remake of Dawn of the Dead 3. Dead Alive.  He has informed me that the first two are scary and the third is funny and since funny is always good, I have also picked up a copy of Shaun of the Dead.  Which I love, which is all English and witty, and really the only reason I have climbed onto the zombie band-wagon. So there.

And here’s the plan: I am going to read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies to Patrick while he makes dinner this week (I know, I am truly getting the better end of the stick here. Aww…I wonder if he’ll clean the dishes too?), then we will watch a zombie movie every night, with one night being saved for the Pride and Prejudice movie version with Colin Firth (yep, how truly hot is he as Mr. Darcy?!). Sweet, yes, Patrick has agreed to all my zombie mania!  Don’t get me wrong, am sure it is going to come back at me. Am probably going to have to learn the names of basketball teams rather than picking by color or might even have to stop calling his golf club his little stick but…whatever…he has agreed to Zombies, and Pride and Prejudice!  What more could a girl want?  

But here is my question for the day: when are zombies going to be Edwardized?  Come on, you know of what I speak…when are zombies going to become all sexy suave, go from mindless to merely emo, give freaky-yet-the-heart-does-pitter-patter glances, forsake meat and become all vegetarian? When are zombies going to get some love?  When is Stephenie Meyer or one of the other paranormal romance writers going to swoop in, turn that zombie groan into a sexy growl, and send teen girls into frenzies of decaying flesh?  Hmm….well, here is one list of some of the best zombies (http://omghorror.blogfaction.com/article/101043/feature-the-26-best-zombies-of-all-time/)…any future heart throbs or are we waiting for Robert Patterson to find a bit of free time?

J

Suggested by: Vega

Last Saturday (May 2nd) is Free Comic Book Day! In celebration of comics and graphic novels, some suggestions:

- Do you read graphic novels/comics? Why do/don’t you enjoy them?

Yes, I read graphic novels.  Growing up, I loved The Archies.  I so wanted to be Veronica…snotty, rich brat. Yes!  I also read some Spider-Man.  Usually one or both of my brothers would have some sort of comic book available if I longed for one.  But it wasn’t until I was in college that I realized that comics/graphic novels could be regarded as true literature.  I was enrolled in a holocaust reading class and Maus I and II by Art Spiegelman were required reading. My first thought—finally some lighter reading! Believe me, a semester of holocaust reading is, well—dark, depressing and really can you believe in humanity after all that?  So, mice and cats seemed an easy respite after Night (which everyone should be required to read!). But it wasn’t and its message was just as powerful as any novel or memoir I have read on the Holocaust.  I had originally thought that the pictures would detract, even perhaps trivialize, the subject matter.  Spiegelman expelled any such thoughts. Since then, I have read numerous graphic novels and can only say that when done well they are as full of interest, depth and development as a novel.

- How would you describe the difference between “graphic novel” and “comic”? Is there a difference at all?

I think the difference between comics and graphic novels is the length and plot development.  I believe, could be wrong, that comics are generally shorter bits of a continuing saga while graphic novels contain, in perhaps one or more books, complete plot and idea development.  I also think that the term graphic novel has been used to help broaden the audience of comics to a wider range of reader.

- Say you have a friend who’s never encountered graphic novels. Recommend some titles you consider landmark/”canonical”.

      I would highly recommend Maus I &II by Spiegelman, The Sandman Series by Gaiman, Fun House by Bechdel, and The Amazing Adventures of the Escapist by Chabon.