Sunday Sonnet

SONNET [Nothing was ever what it claimed to be,]
by Karen Volkman

Nothing was ever what it claimed to be,
the earth, blue egg, in its seeping shell
dispensing damage like a hollow hell
inchling weeping for a minor sea

ticking its tidelets, x and y and z.
The blue beneficence we call and spell
and call blue heaven, the whiteblue well
of constant water, deepening a thee,

a thou and who, touching every what—
and in the or, a shudder in the cut—
and that you are, blue mirror, only stare

bluest blankness, whether in the where,
sheen that bleeds blue beauty we are taught
drowns and booms and vowels. I will not.



(sonnet courtesy of poets.org)

Mama's madness, miscarriage make misfortune

Tomato Girl
Jayne Pupek

My latest review for the mighty Pajiba had me tackling Jayne Pupek's Tomato Girl. This novel provides a disturbing look at one girl's introduction to womanhood -- an introduction that comes all too soon, precipitated by the madness around her.

Kindly click here to read my thoughts on this compelling novel. After the review, stop by Jayne Pupek's blog, which I just found while snatching a jpeg of Tomato Girl's cover.

In a nutshell: Disturbing, engrossing, and fast-paced, Tomato Girl is the perfect complement for the fall season.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

What would you add?

Last week, the Times Online published the 10 Books NOT to Read Before You Die. I have to agree with many of these choices: I could never endure James Joyce, and I can't say much for Jane Austen, either.

I'm tempted to add Conrad's Heart of Darkness or Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway, both of which I found rather stifling. Same with DeLillo's White Noise, which is praised up and down but just doesn't do anything for me.

What would you add or take away from the list?

and when all should be quiet your fire burns a river of sleep

Hurry Down Sunshine
Michael Greenberg

Hurry Down Sunshine is one father’s account of his daughter’s descent into the maelstrom of madness. Although I have railed against the glut of memoirs I’ve encountered recently, Hurry Down Sunshine never seemed unnecessary or pointless. It isn’t the best memoir I’ve read, nor is it the most compelling account of mental illness I’ve encountered (that honor goes to Greg Bottoms’ Angelhead), but Greenberg’s memoir provides a lesson we can all benefit from: that the mentally ill are not freaks who should be treated like pariahs; rather, they are seriously ill individuals who need our patience and support.

Greenberg's daughter, Sally, was only fifteen when she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. The events that led up to her hospitalization took her father by complete surprise, even though, as he notes in retrospect, the signs had been there. Hurry Down Sunshine chronicles Sally's fight against the disease, as well as the struggle faced by those who love her. Readers can clearly see how Sally's illness greatly affects not only her life, but those of all around her.

While other soon-to-be tenth graders spend their summers lounging seaside, Sally spends hers in a psychiatric hospital, slowly regaining the right to perform even the most basic of rights, rights (like keeping a pen) that she once took for granted. Her recovery is not an easy one, nor is it final. Sally's disease is one that can be controlled, but never fully cured. Greenberg's work proves that the mentally ill are more than just their diagnosis; behind every mental illness is a fragile soul just wanting to be free. The fact that the soul in question is so young makes Sunshine an even more compelling read.

That's not to say Hurry Down Sunshine is perfect; it's not. Certain places drag and Greenberg glosses over other parts that could use more detail. Still, for those interested in such topics, this memoir is an informative and sympathetic look at an engrossing disease.

In a nutshell: Both compelling and informative, Hurry Down Sunshine shines despite its flaws.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars

Sunday Sonnet

NOW
by Eleanor Alexander


For me, my friend, no grave-side vigil keep
With tears that memory and remorse might fill;
Give me your tenderest laughter earth-bound still,
And when I die you shall not want to weep.
No epitaph for me with virtues deep
Punctured in marble pitiless and chill:
But when play time is over, if you will,
The songs that soothe beloved babes to sleep.
No lenten lilies on my breast and brow
Be laid when I am silent; roses red,
And golden roses bring me here instead,
That if you love or bear me I may know;
I may not know, nor care, when I am dead:
Give me your songs, and flowers, and laughter now.

A nothingness-grabbing greed machine

The Power of Flies
Lydie Salvayre

My latest review for Pajiba has appeared, and this time I tackled French author Lydie Salvayre's Power of Flies. Click here to read my review.

In a nutshell: Flies appears to be a fast, easy read, but beware: it may be quick-going, but be prepared for dark and philosophical fare.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars

Nothing which comes stays, and nothing which goes is lost

The Book of Lost Things
John Connolly

Twelve-year-old David's had a rough time of it recently. Having recently lost his mother, he was none too pleased when his father began seeing another woman. When they married, producing Georgie, his half-brother, David had enough. It is no surprise, then, that he takes such solace from books. When his new family becomes more than he can bear, however, his fairy tales come alive in a way they never had before.

Suddenly, David finds himself in a world similar to -- but entirely different from -- his own. Packs of man-wolves, called Loups, hunt him from the moment he steps foot into this alien territory. This world is decaying, food is scarce, and David cannot find the way back home. After encountering a helpful Woodsman, he sets out to find the king of this land, whose Book of Lost Things might give him the help he so desperately needs.

And so, David sets out on his quest, encountering along the way both friends and foes. He faces great perils and learns to overcome them and his fears. Always present are the fairy tales David so loves, although he encounters them a bit differently in this world than they were presented in his. As David makes his way toward the castle, encountering both horrific beasts and unimaginable dangers, there is a greater danger still that lies in wait: the Crooked Man. The most dangerous of all his foes, the Crooked Man wants something from David, something David might only be all too eager to give.

The Book of Lost Things is a fast-paced, imaginative story that twists conventional fairy tales; the effect is new, yet familiar. Meanwhile, David must learn to navigate illusion and reality while conquering his hatred, fear, and despair. It won't be an easy task, but that David is capable of it is never in doubt.

David is a wonderful character, and Connolly's creation of him is true. I came to care deeply for him, and the perfect ending hit exactly the right note, sending Lost Things from just a "good" story to a deeply moving one. While at times I felt the plot dragged, once entrenched, I couldn't put it down. I've heard Lost Things billed as a young-adult novel, but it didn't feel that way to me.

In a nutshell: A slightly-dark story with an uplifting ending that makes things better. I'm ready for Nocturnes!

Bibliolatry Scale: 4.5 out of 6 stars

Sunday Sonnet

UNTITLED
by John Masefield


Men are made human by the mighty fall
The mighty passion led to, these remain.
The despot, at the last assaulted wall,
By long disaster is made man again,
The faithful fool who follows the torn flag,
The woman marching by the beaten man,
Make with their truth atonement for the brag,
And earn a pity for the too proud plan.
For in disaster, in the ruined will,
In the soiled shreds of what the brain conceived,
Something above the wreck is steady still,
Bright above all that cannot be retrieved,
Grandeur of soul, a touching of the star
That good days cover but by which we are.

R.I.P.

David Foster Wallace

Weekly Geeks 16: Geek Interview

The Rising
Brian Keene

This week’s Weekly Geeks theme pairs two Geeks, who then interview one another about their latest read-but-unreviewed work.

I was paired with the lovely Florinda, who was nice enough to offer some thought-provoking questions for the horribly disappointing The Rising by Brian Keene.

Florinda's questions appear in italics; my answers follow.

The book is described as a "post-apocalyptic zombie thriller." What piqued your interest in reading it?

I always gear up for the fall and Halloween by reading what I call “spooky reads.” I’m not sure how I heard of The Rising, but zombies scare the heck out of me, so I knew I’d have to give it a go.

Please give a spoiler-free plot summary.

The dead have risen, although they’re unlike normal zombies. They walk, they talk, they think. Our main character is trying to stay alive and save his son, who is alive in another state. Along the way, he meets other survivors. Will they make it in time?

Please share a favorite passage or quote from the book.

Honestly, there wasn’t one. The writing was rather poor, and there were several cringe-worthy moments. The dialogue was stale and clichéd, especially when the "gangstas" talked. Cringe-worthy, indeed.

Could you identify a "big idea" or theme running through the book - what was it, and how is it reinforced in the storytelling?

I suppose a theme might be the importance of family and the negative effects of science (don’t worry; that wasn’t a spoiler). The storytelling was pretty simple and ultimately a letdown, so I can’t pretend that these themes were reinforced by anything other than the most obvious of methods.

Did you have a favorite character? What did you like about him/her?

Not really. There was a deaf boy, Worm, who was endearing, but I generally found the characters to be little more than flat, shallow stereotypes.

Have you read any books by this author before? Do you think you would read any more? Why/why not?

No, and I don’t plan to read any more by this author. The poor writing and grammar issues did it for me. In fact, I admit that I skimmed the second half. It was just getting too distressing, and I don’t mean the zombies.

I noticed that you use a 6-star rating scale for the books you review. How many stars will you give this book?

I’ll give this one 1.5 out of 6 stars, but only because of the innovative twist the author added to the zombie genre. I liked that he didn’t rehash the usual zombie story, but found a way to make it different.

I have to be honest - I don't read a lot of genre fiction, and have never been a big horror fan, so it was a challenge for me to come up with questions about this book, and I'm sure there are things that I didn't think to ask about! What do you think readers should know about this book that you haven't already answered?

Readers should know it was dissatisfying. With a better editor, the book might have fared better. As it was, The Rising came across as immature and sophomoric. What could have been an intelligent horror novel was instead a major disappointment.


In a nutshell: Great premise, poor execution

Bibliolatry Scale: 1.5 out of 6 stars

* * *

In turn, I interviewed Florinda about Jancee Dunn's Don't You Forget About Me; my questions appear in italics, and her responses follow.

Can you summarize the novel in one sentence?

You may be able to go home again, but you can't go back in time.

How would you rate the plot: predictable, or just right? Fast-paced, or slow?

The last part of the story was a bit predictable, but most of it was just right, and I enjoyed seeing how it unfolded. The pace was just about right too, considering that this is more of a character-driven than plot-oriented book.

Can any lessons be learned from reading Don't You Forget About Me?

Any lessons from the book are pretty common-sense ones:

• It can be comforting to take refuge in the past when your present life throws you an ugly curveball, but it's not healthy to try to become the person you were then - or think you were.
  
• You have to grow up eventually.
  
• Being voted "least changed" at your 20th high-school class reunion is not necessarily a good thing.

However, I would suggest that this book is better read for entertainment than enlightenment.

How would you describe the main characters? Overall, were they likable and/or sympathetic, or were they difficult to relate to? Which character could you relate to the most, and why?

Lillian, the first-person narrator, is by far the most developed character in the book, and in many ways that's appropriate; it's her story, after all. I liked her a lot - she was very real. She had her quirks and flaws, and in some areas she was still falling prey to her adolescent insecurities; and unfortunately, I could relate to that all too well. I found her mostly endearing, and sometimes irritating. She was rather lacking in self-awareness, and seemed to interact more with the people in her life as she perceived them - sometimes based on long-outdated images - rather than with who they really were; I think that's part of why many of the other characters didn't seem as dimensional to me. However, even the less likable characters came across as decent, everyday people, and that portrayal is one of Dunn's strengths as a writer.

I could also relate to Lillian's circumstances, particularly early in the story - finding herself somewhat adrift in her late 30s, after the unexpected end of a long relationship, and seeking comfort in the old and familiar. I have, unfortunately, been there myself. However, I've never been eager to attend one of my high-school reunions; I think I've missed four of them so far (10th, 15th, 20th, 25th).

Don't You Forget About Me is partially set in NYC. Would you say this is a "New York City novel"? (That is, is the city a major character?) How integral is the setting to the storyline?

The setting actually is pretty important to the story, but this is not a "New York City" novel; it's a "New Jersey suburbs" novel, mostly. Most of the action takes place during Lillian's sabbatical at her parents' house during the time period surrounding her reunion, and she's truly happy to be back in the 'burbs - running at the school track, visiting the mall, speeding down the Turnpike to the Shore. I was particularly amused when she extolled the virtues of suburban CVS drugstores compared to their city cousins.

The novel is described as being "steeped in '80s-era references." Did you find these references to be overdone and distracting, or just right? What was your favorite 80s reference, and why?

I'm a couple of years older than the author, and Lillian is a few years younger yet, but I pretty much came of age in the '80's, and I enjoyed those touches. They easily could have been overdone and taken into "camp" territory, but I feel that Dunn employed them pretty well. My favorite '80's-reference scene involved Lillian driving around in her dad's car, playing an old Rick Springfield tape and remembering watching General Hospital after school, back when he was on the show (the first time - he's back now, I've heard). That was a been-there, done-that moment.

How would you describe the author's writing style? Overall, is the prose easy to read, or difficult? Can you provide a sentence or two to highlight her style?

Dunn's writing experience is in journalism and nonfiction, and her first novel is written in a fairly straightforward style in keeping with that background. She writes with heart and humor, and she's good with dialogue.

From page 58, a passage that illustrates one reason I could identify well with Lillian:

Why was it, I wondered, that when you loved a song, the feelings it evoked were so profoundly personal? Pop music always reached me in such a specific, hidden place, and my reaction to certain songs was so unthinking, so visceral, that it was almost sexual. Linear thoughts vanished completely, replaced by images and moods that I could never rationally discuss even with close friends.

Finally, what would you rate this novel, and why? Would you read more by this author?

Rating: 3.75/5 (objectively, but because I find Jancee Dunn and her writing just so likable, I would give it a subjective 4/5). When I read But Enough About Me earlier this year, I said: "There are some books that make you feel like you're just hanging out with the writer - laughing, sharing stories, spending an enjoyable afternoon...Dunn is an engaging storyteller." I would definitely hang out with her again, and look forward to reading whatever she does next.

* * *

Thanks, Florinda!!

Awww, how sweet!

Yesterday, Critical Mass called me the ideal book reviewer.

NICE.

Sunday Sonnet

ORPHEUS
by Margaret Fuller Ossoli

Each Orpheus must unto the depths descend,--
For only thus the poet can be wise;
Must make the sad Persephone his friend,
And buried love to second life arise;
Again his love must lose through too much love,
Must lose his life by living life too true,
For what he sought below is passed above,
Already done is all that he would do;
Must tune all being with his single lyre,
Must melt all rocks free from their primal pain,
Must search all Nature with his one soul's fire,
Must bind anew all forms in heavenly chain.
If he already sees what he must do,
Well may he shade his eyes from the far-shining view.

A Good and Spooky Book

A Good and Happy Child
Justin Evans

A Good and Happy Child is just the kind of fast-paced read to usher in the spooky season. Many thanks to the lovely Mrs. White for recommending it! This psychological thriller concerns George Davies and his uncertainty regarding...well, regarding himself. Is he insane? Or is he, as he believes, the victim of demonic possession?

Married with a newborn, George finds himself falling apart. Since the birth of his son, he has returned to the neurotic state that characterized his childhood. He cannot hold his son, cannot even be in the same room with him. His wife, tired, stressed, and unsympathetic (and rightfully so) has had enough of his behavior. Get help, she says, or get out. And so, George returns to therapy.

Like all good therapists, his encourages George to talk about his childhood. Unfortunately for George, that's easier said than done, so his therapist encourages him to write about it instead. George fills notebook after notebook about his childhood, the contents of which are interspersed with George's current struggle.

As both stories progress, we understand the origins of George's problematic behavior. After the death of his father, ten-year-old George becomes understandably troubled. He feels his mother has moved on too quickly, and his classmates torment him. Worse still, George begins to receive visits from a mysterious "Friend," a friend who often torments him, compelling him to commit horrific deeds. Drugs and therapy, however, decrease these symptoms, creating doubts about the devilish source of George's plight.

Was George plagued by a demonic spirit? And if so, did this possession have anything to do with his father's death? Or is George simply another victim of backwoods superstition, needing only some good therapy and medication to set him on the path to goodness? Of course, I won't give anything away here; I'll say only that Justin Evans has written a thought-provoking and suspenseful novel that also happens to feature some pretty admirable prose.

One warning, though: Those who like their ends tidily wrapped up in a nice neat bow might be a little bothered by A Good and Happy Child's ambiguous ending. Again, without giving too much away, I'll say only I would have liked a little more closure -- but only because I'd come to care so much for George. Focusing on craft instead of character, however, allows me to appreciate Evans' choice more.

In a nutshell: Intelligent fun; readers who enjoy a good, spooky tale will rip through this one.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars