Psychological

REVIEW: Charm & Strange by Stephanie Kuehn

Rating: 4.5/5 Stars
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Audience: Teen/Young Adult

Summary: Sixteen-year-old Win is an outsider at his exclusive Vermont boarding school, and that’s
the way he wants it. It’s safer for him, and, perhaps more importantly,
safer for his classmates. Something wild and dangerous lives inside him ready to emerge at any moment, and he can’t wait. When a dead body is found in the woods near his school, Win believes he’s responsible, that his inner wolf has finally found a way to come out. But will Win ever truly be able to break free, or will the tragedies of his childhood trap him forever? 

First Line: “I don’t feel the presence of God here.”

Tracy’s Thoughts:
This book pulled me in from the first moment and never let me go. I picked it up early on a Saturday morning, and I didn’t want to leave the tormented mind of Drew/Win for even a minute. Three hours later, I was hungry (no breakfast yet) and needed to use the bathroom, but I was completely full of awe at Kuehn’s writing, particularly the perfect interweaving of voice, character, and pacing. I needed several moments to process what I had just read. What I had experienced, thanks the amazing voice of its troubled narrator(s).

Readers are presented with a character study and mystery from two directions. In the present, Win is a bitter loner, angry and undeniably weird. His thoughts are strange and philosophical and his mind is clearly (or at least probably) confused. No one understands him, and he does not understand himself either. A dead body was found in the woods and Win suspects he’s responsible, though he has no memory of killing anyone. As a reader, I was aware something terrible had happened—leaving Win alone and abandoned—and I wanted desperately to understand his past and what was happening to him in the present. Is he crazy? Is he a werewolf, as he seems to believe? Is he both?

In the past, Drew (Win’s name before the Something Terrible happened) is ten years old and—like the present Win—suffers from severe motion sickness and has strange thoughts and impulses. There is a pervasive sense of doom, though the source of Drew’s troubles is merely hinted at. Through both alternating narratives, Kuehn reveals bits and pieces of the past and their consequences in the present, so that readers are kept constantly on edge, always adjusting and readjusting theories about Win.

Win’s not a particular likeable guy, but it is impossible to read his
confused and caustic words in juxtaposition with his past without feeling sympathy and fascination. I was
determined to unravel the mystery of Win’s past and present. And even
when I thought I understood what was going on in Win’s mind, there was
always a niggle of doubt where I wondered if Win’s strange, confused
thoughts were true after all.The uncertainty and fascination created through voice and structure are the heart of Kuehn’s amazing storytelling in this novel. And the writing itself is beautiful, unsettling, and—even though I suspected the big reveal at the end—completely gutwrenching.

Charm & Strange isn’t a perfect book, but it is powerful and emotionally intense from start to finish. Although a handful of recent YA books have held me in their spell (e.g., this one, this one, and this one), not since first reading Sara Zarr’s Story of a Girl have I been so completely absorbed and unwilling to put a book down.

REVIEW: The Blind Contessa’s New Machine by Carey Wallace

Rating: 3.5/5 Stars
Genre: Historical Fiction/Love Story
Audience: Adult

Summary:  In 19th century Italy, a young Contessa recognizes that she is losing her eyesight. She tries to tell her fiancé and parents, but no one believes her. That is, no one with the exception of her friend Turri, a married, eccentric inventor who lives on the estate adjoining her father’s. Slowly, images become increasing blurred and distorted until, shortly after her wedding, Carolina finds herself in complete darkness. Yet in her dreams, she see everything in magnificent color, imagining a glorious world of possibility. In her sleep, she finds freedom in glorious adventures but during the day she cannot even walk alone to her beloved lake or pen a letter to a friend. Longing to stay in contact his friend, Turri in turn designs a machine that will help her with the everyday task of communicating with distant friends and family—a writing machine. Somehow, the gift ignites a spark that leads to a passionate, clandestine affair that changes both their lives.

First Line: “On the day Countess Carolina Fantoni was married, only one other living person knew that she was going blind, and he was not her groom.”

Tracy’s Thoughts: Lush, vivid detail and lyrical prose make this slim novel a truly absorbing read. The description of Carolina’s loss of sight and her slow acclimation to her condition are particularly vivid and affecting. Cary Wallace’s writing is almost magical at times, evocative and dreamy as she describes the Italian countryside, Carolina’s impressions, and others’ reactions to her blindness. Though simple, the story too is intriguing. Based on the man who invented the first working typewriter prototype for the blind woman he is rumored to have loved, it weaves a romantic fable around historical events. Throughout the course of the novel, the reader is taken on a journey right along with Carolina, from flashbacks of her courtship with her husband Pietro to her encroaching blindness and impulsive, inevitable affair with Turri.

The focus here is more on tone and character than specific events, though. The characters are well developed yet mysterious, from Carolina herself to secondary characters like Liza, Carolina’s odd serving girl who adds small lies and fictions to the stories she reads to Carolina. The ending here is a bit abrupt though not unsatisfying. Instead, it preserves a sense of ethereal mystery that reflects the tone of the rest of the novel. Ultimately, The Blind Contessa’s New Machine is an intelligent, whimsical tale that balances tragedy with inspiration and understated humor.

FLASH REVIEWS: Recent Audio Reads in Historical Fiction

I’m back with more quick reviews of my recent audio reads! I just finished two Bloody Jack Adventures  plus a couple of adult historicals. So here goes…

The Book of Madness and Cures by Regina O’Melveny
Rating: 2/5 Stars
Audience: Adult
Genre: Historical Fiction/Mystery

When the powers that be try to keep her from practicing her craft as a physician, Renaissance woman Gabriella Mondini decides now is the time to go searching for her long-lost father. What follows is a journey across Europe and beyond that calls to mind the Canterbury Tales. Through her entries in her diary and additions made in an anthology of diseases begun by her father (also a physician), readers are privy to Gabriella’s adventures and obsessions. A woman physician in sixteenth-century Venice, Gabriella
Mondini had the potential to become a fascinating character. The plot in and of itself is certainly intriguing, but the pacing is uneven and the supernatural elements are clumsily integrated and all too predictable. O’Melveney is a poet, and the prose is lyrical and striking at times; however, it also frequently veers into pretension and excessive description. Probably the only reason I finished this audiobook is Katherine Kellgren, whose magnificent voice performance kept me engaged.

Heading Out to Wonderful by Robert  Goolrick
Rating: 2.5/5 Stars
Audience: Adult
Genre: Historical Fiction/Psychological Suspense/Southern Gothic

When Charlie Beale arrived in the small Southern town of Brownsburg with a suitcase full of money, it was the summer of 1948. Decades later, a man who knew Charlie and was witness to Charlie’s torrid, fateful affair with the young bride of the town’s wealthiest man recounts the story. I was downright mesmerized by Goolrick’s A Reliable Wife, but Heading Out to Wonderful lacked the tension and immediacy I expected in his follow-up novel. The setting and storyline had the haunting, nostalgic quality of a folk ballad, but the finale seemed forced and arbitrary. Also, I was troubled by the occasional awkwardness of the narrative voice and some unacknowledged loose ends. For example, it is never explained (MILD SPOILER AHEAD…HIGHLIGHT TO READ) how Charlie came by that suitcase of money. Although this was the most interesting part of the story to me, I would have understood if that particular plot point remained a mystery. But the fact that none of the book’s characters seem to wonder or question it makes no sense. Still, even with all that being said, I think Heading Out to Wonderful would make a fantastic book club read. The recurring themes of lost innocence, sin and forgiveness, identities abandoned and recreated, and memory itself leave much to discuss.

Mississippi Jack by L.A. Meyer
Rating: 4/5 Stars
Audience: Teen/Young Adult
Genre: Historical Adventure/Humor
Series: Bloody Jack Adventures #5

I am still a little furious at Jamie. But at the same time, I also like him a bit better now. In the past, Jamie has been almost too perfect for the wonderfully flawed adventuress that is Jacky Faber. Now, I see him as a more developed, if flawed character and I like him better for it. In this latest adventure, Jacky and Jamie are once again separated as Jacky makes her way down the Mississippi in a rollicking adventure reminiscent of the best tall tales. Legendary boatman Mike Fink even plays a significant role in the story. New love interests also emerge—most notably the irascibly charming Sir Richard Allen—to throw a wrench in Jacky and Jamie’s relationship. Not to mention the intervention of the British Navy and Intelligence Agency, marauding Indians, and a homicidal Mike Fink. Also, did I already mention that I love Katherine Kellgren? Because I do. Her fabulous performances make the Bloody jack series a joy to listen to, bringing Jacky and the gang to vivid life.

Mt Bonny Light Horseman by L.A. Meyer
Rating: 3/5 Stars
Audience: Teen/Young Adult
Genre: Historical Adventure/Humor/War Story
Series: Bloody Jack Adventures #6

This time around, Jacky is tasked by British Intelligence to act as a spy against the French. Those who love the battle scenes of earlier Bloody Jack novels won’t be disappointed. And Jacky being Jacky, there are also new flirtations for the more romantically minded (though the new love interest fails to live up to the standard set by Jamie’s previous rivals for Jacky’s affections, IMHO).

FLASH REVIEWS: Recent Audio Reads with an International Flavor

As I mentioned in my last post, my pleasure reading of late has been almost entirely limited to audiobooks. It’s been a while since I finished some of these, but here are some quick reviews of international-themed books I’ve been reading/listening to over the past few months:

Running the Rift by Naomi Benaron
Rating: 4/5 Stars
Audience: Adult/YA Crossover
Genre: Coming-of-Age Story/Political Fiction/War Story

This stunning coming of age novel tells the story of Jean Patrick Nkuba, a young Rwandan who dreams of running in the Olympics. He is a kindhearted and slightly naive boy, but as he grows older he becomes increasingly aware of the stark ethnic divide in his country and the challenges his Tutsi heritage will present to achieving his dream. Gripping and frequently distressing—this is one of the few novels that has made me cry—Running the Rift is nevertheless a story of hope, love, and perseverance. Benaron does not shy away from the escalating violence that eventually leads to the Rwandan genocide, but the story is not sensationalistic in any way. Instead, through the fictionalized account of Jean Patrick, it brings a relatable voice to an unimaginable tragedy and shows that there is much more to the country and its people than can be surmised from political reports and news stories. In contrast to the unflinching portrait of violence and moral complexities are Jean Patrick’s genuine love of his sport, his country, his family, and a young woman for whom he would do almost anything.

The Orphan Master’s Son by Adam Johnson
Rating: 3.5/5 Stars
Audience: Adult
Genre: Literary Fiction/Political Fiction/Dystopia

Set in the real-world dystopia of North Korea, this Pulitzer Prize–winning novel takes readers on a weird and wonderful journey along with its anti-hero protagonist. Jun Do begins life with the unlucky reputation of being an orphan—although in actuality he is not—and through a series of strange circumstances and fateful choices he finds himself filling unlikely roles, from professional kidnapper to national hero to romantic rival of the Great Leader himself. Set in a world where the “story” is so much more important than truth—where the story becomes truth—Jun Do seizes opportunities to reinvent himself over and over, and yet the nature and politics of North Korea can easily take him on a detour that will rewrite his story all over again. Perhaps because the world it explores is so very alien, I must admit that I initially found this book a bit difficult to connect with. I also wonder whether my occasional dissatisfaction might be related to the audio format. There are multiple voices and frequent interruptions from propagandist loudspeakers that perhaps did not translate well in this audio adaptation. But while it becomes a bit tedious at times (whether due to format or subject matter), The Orphan Master’s Son is also frequently brilliant, fascinating, and surprising.

Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo
Rating: 4/5 Stars
Audience: Adult
Genre: Nonfiction/Social Issues/Travel Writing

In this intimate and poignant book, a Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist creates a extraordinary portrait of India’s urban poor. By focusing on Annawadi, one of dozens of tiny slums that exist alongside the modern new airport and luxury hotels of Mumbai, Katherine Boo is able to bring to life the everyday realities faced by so many. While the story centers on the accusations of a woman who set herself on fire and the repercussions for the family accused of harming her, several key residents of the small undercity are examined. From petty squabbles that escalate into tragedy to a murdered garbage thief left ignored on the side of the road, death and survival in Annawadi is brought to vivid life by Boo’s compassionate yet clear-eyed reportage. There is Abdul, the quiet, diligent garbage collector; Asha, an ambitious kindergarten teacher determined to work the corrupt system for her own betterment; and Manju, Asha’s disapproving, intelligent daughter who hopes education will be her way out. Readers are left both frustrated by the actions of some residents and cautiously hopeful for the futures of others; but, in the end, the people of Annawadi are portrayed at complex individuals, not as collective objects of pity but as human beings fighting for survival and carving out a life in a flawed and corrupt system.  

REVIEW: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz

Rating: 4.5/5 Stars
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Audience: Teen/Young Adult

Summary: In the summer of 1987, two 15-year-old loners meet and forge a powerful friendship. Ari is a brooding “tough guy” who obsessively questions his place and purpose in the world; Dante is his complete opposite, relentlessly positive, self-assured, and emotionally open. Over the course of a year and through his friendship with Dante and Dante’s parents, Ari  finally comes to terms with himself and the unspoken secrets that haunt his family.

First Line: “One summer night I fell asleep, hoping the world would be different when I woke.”

Tracy’s Thoughts:
This book blew me away. The writing is deceptively simple, poetic, and quietly powerful. It’s easy to slip right into Ari’s mind, to feel every nuance he is feeling, from confusion to impulsive anger. Despite this, Ari remains a bit of a mystery—he refers to himself as “inscrutable”—as even he does not understand himself. I love that Ari is more than a little angsty as a character, but it’s not a dark and overblown angst. Yeah, he’s confused and often feels quite lost and even angry, but the book never once feels depressing. Not that certain issues addressed in the book aren’t emotional and potentially upsetting. Yet Sáenz handles it all gracefully without being heavy-handed in the slightest; in his capable hands, Aristotle and Dante’s story is far more sweet than bitter, but it never minimizes those ever-present “issues.”

Family drama, issues of sexual and ethnic identity, and even PSTD play a part in this stunning novel, and yet none of these elements overwhelms the story. Ari’s coming of age plays out slowly and patiently, and the novel unfolds in a realistic manner. Although one particular family revelation feels a bit coincidental, I bought it. And although it may seem a bit unlikely, I loved that the parents were so accepting of Ari, Dante, and their possible more-than-friends feelings for one another. Perhaps this wouldn’t have been the norm in 1980s Texas, but I appreciated that Sáenz didn’t need to go there. There is a lot going on in this book, but it all works together seamlessly, without any wasted subplots or characters. At its core it is less a book about sexual identity than about family, friendship, and having the courage to speak honestly and freely to the people who matter.

REVIEW: See You at Harry’s by Jo Knowles

Rating: 4/5 Stars
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Audience: Tween/Teen (11 and up)

Summary: Twelve-year-old Fern feels invisible in her family. Her dad is obsessed with the family restaurant and hardly ever comes home for dinner anymore; her mother is constantly escaping to her special room to meditate; and her perpetually critical sister Sara is miserable to be stuck at working at the family diner while her friends are all away at college. Fern has always had a special bond with her older brother Holden, but now that he’s started high school he’s busy coping with school bullies and his own emerging sexuality. And then there’s adorable, irrepressible three-year-old Charlie, the constant center of attention within the family.
The only person keeping Fern sane is her eternally calm and optimistic
best friend Ran, who almost makes her believe that “all
will be well.” But then tragedy strikes and even Ran can’t see how things will ever be okay again.

 First Line: “The very best day of my life, I threw up four times and had a fever of 103 degrees.”

Tracy’s Thoughts:
This is a book that will make you laugh, break your heart, and then somehow, against all odds, make you smile again. Knowles’s characters are fully developed, with authentic emotions and flaws. Quiet, introspective Fern makes a wonderful narrator, and though the lens through which she sees each of her family members is necessarily skewed by her own perspective, readers are able sympathize with each of the characters. Fern’s voice is distinct and engaging, often with shades of unintentional humor. This is especially true when she talks about her family:

Holden is always running off in a huff, and I am always the one searching for him and bringing him home. Holden’s named after the main character in The Catcher in the Rye. I wasn’t supposed to read it until I’m older, but I snuck my mom’s paperback copy out of her room last year. The pages were all soft from her reading it so many times. The book is about this boy who’s depressed because he thinks everyone he knows is a phony, so he runs away. I understand why my mom liked the book and all, but I personally think is was a big mistake to name your kid after a boy who tries to kill himself, even if he is thoughtful and brilliant. My favorite parts in the book are when the main characters talks about his little sister, Phoebe. Sometimes I think I’m a little like Phoebe to our Holden. Because in the book she’s the one he goes back for. And that’s sort of like me. Only I have to go looking for him first. (25–26)

The first third of the book introduces the quirk-filled family, from
Fern’s goodhearted, embarrassing father to demanding, loveable Charlie.
But then everything—the simple coming-of-age story you thought you were
reading—comes to a devastating halt as tragedy strikes. The emotions
become even more palpable, and the characters more real.

Relationships shine in this book, particularly the bond between
Holden and Fern—and later, when she steps up after the tragedy, Sara.
Fern’s friendship with Ran and Cassie—which also adds a minor love triangle to
the mix—rings equally true and enjoyable. I don’t want to spoil the “tragedy” that shifts the direction of the
narrative, so there is not much more I can say about this gripping
story. Characters must cope with guilt, grief, and other complex emotions, but the story never becomes maudlin or melodramatic. But there are hints of brightness amidst the darkness that comes. This is a simply but incredibly well-written story, full of humor, compassion, heartwrenching tragedy, and, eventually, healing.

REVIEW: Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

Rating: 4/5 Stars
Audience: Adult
Genre: Psychological Suspense

Summary: Everyone thinks the Dunnes’ marriage is perfect, until the beautiful and clever Amy Dunne disappears on their fifth wedding anniversary under suspicious circumstances. Nick claims to know nothing about his wife’s disappearance, but as the police look Nick’s way, he is caught out in lie after lie. Juxtaposed with Nick’s story and the investigation are excerpts from Amy’s diary, which further contradict Nick’s story and present a disturbing tale of a marriage gone wrong.

Tracy’s Thoughts:
From the start, this book reminded me of a Dateline episode about a husband killing his wife to escape a bad marriage. But as this novel was written by Gillian Flynn—author of the dark and twisty novels Sharp Objects and Dark Places—things are not quite as straightforward as they initially seem.There are enough twists and turns here to satisfy even the most gung-ho rollercoaster fanatic, but—unfortunately—I saw them all coming. I blame it on one too many M. Night
Shayamalan movies. But then, I knew Bruce Willis was dead all along, so maybe not…

Anyway, while the book didn’t have the same tense, edge-of-your-seat mystery for me that was shared by many other reviewers, I was still riveted. Flynn’s writing is stellar, and her characters are complex and scarily believable. What really got me about this book was the rawly honest look at individuals’ darkest thoughts, their secret desires and beliefs about relationships. Seriously… If I had commitment issues before, now I’m terrified. (Just kidding. Mostly.)

To illustrate what I mean, check out these passages:

No relationship is perfect, they say—they who
make due with dutiful sex and gassy bedtime rituals, who settle for TV
as conversation, who believe that husbandly capitulation—yes, honey, okay, honey—is the same as concord. He’s doing what you tell him to because he doesn’t care enough to argue, I think. Your
petty demands actually make him feel superior, or resentful, and
someday he will fuck his pretty young coworker and you will actually be
shocked. Give me a man with a little fight in him, a man who will
call me on his bullshit. (But who also kind of likes my bullshit.) 
(Page 29)

I speak specifically of the Amy of today,
who was only remotely like the woman I fell in love with. It had been an
awful fairy-tale reverse transformation. Over just a few years, the old
Amy, the girl of the big laugh and the easy ways, literally shed
herself, a pile of skin and soul on the floor, and out stepped this new,
brittle, bitter Amy. My wife was no longer my wife but a razor-wire
knot daring me to unloop her, and I was not up to the job with my thick,
numb, nervous fingers. Country fingers. Flyover fingers untrained in
the intricate, dangerous work of solving Amy. When I’d hold up
the bloody stumps, she’d sigh and turn to her secret mental notebook on
which she tallied all my deficiencies, forever noting disappointments,
frailties, shortcomings. My old Amy, damn she was fun. She was funny.
She made me laugh. I’d forgotten that. And she laughed…

She
was not the thing she became, the thing I feared most: an angry woman. I
was not good with angry women. They brought something out in me that
was unsavory. (Page 49)

I have never been a nag. I have always been
rather proud of my un-nagginess. So it pisses me off, that Nick is
forcing me to nag. I am willing to live with a certain amount of
sloppiness, or laziness, of the lackadaisical life. I realize that I am
more type-A than Nick, and I try to be careful not to inflict my
neat-freaky, to-do-list nature on him. Nick is not the kind of guy who
is going to think to vacuum or clean out the fridge. He truly doesn’t see
that kind of stuff. Fine. Really. But I do like a certain standard of
living—I think it’s fair to say the garbage shouldn’t literally
overflow, and the plates shouldn’t sit in the sink for a week with
smears of bean burrito dried on them. That’s just being a good grown-up
roommate. And Nick’s not doing anything anymore, so I have to nag, and it
pisses me off… (Page 85)

Gillian Flynn blows me away with her ability to zero in on the little flaws and secret resentments that are common to human nature, but then to twist them just a bit into something incredibly disturbing. I would read anything she writes just for her slightly skewed insights into human psychology.

Here is yet another of my favorite passages from Gone Girl:

For several years, I had been bored. Not a
whining, restless child’s boredom (although I was not above that) but a
dense, blanketing malaise. It seemed to me that there was nothing new to
be discovered ever again….Mona Lisa, the Pyramids, the Empire
State Building. Jungle animals on attack, ancient icebergs collapsing,
volcanoes erupting. I can’t recall a single amazing thing I’ve seen
firsthand that I didn’t immediately reference to a movie or TV
show….You know the awful singsong of the blasé: Seeeen it. I’ve
literally seen it all, and the worst thing, the thing that makes me
want to blow my brains out, is: The secondhand experience is always
better. The image is crisper, the view is keener, the camera angle and
the soundtrack manipulate my emotions in a way reality can’t anymore. I
don’t know that we are actually human at this point, those of us who are
like most of us, who grew up with TV and movies and now the Internet.
If we are betrayed, we know the words to say; when a loved one dies, we
know the words to say. If we want to play the stud or the smart-ass or
the fool, we know the words to say. We are all working from the same
dog-eared script.

It’s a very difficult era in which to be a
person, just a real, actual person instead of a collection of
personality traits selected from an Automat of characters….

It had gotten to the point where it seemed like nothing matters, because I’m not a real person and neither is anyone else.

I would have done anything to feel real again. (Pages 72–73)

So while I was a bit disappointed with the plotting of this novel, the characters—their individual voices—are still living in my head. For me it was not the unpredictable tour de force that had other reviewers exclaiming and handing out 5-star reviews left and right (even Kirkus Reviews, which is notoriously stingy with that coveted 5th star), but it is memorable without question. And the ending? Chilling, disturbing, and absolutely perfect.
 

REVIEW: The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbotsky

Rating: 5/5 Stars
Genre: Realistic Fiction, Coming-of-age, Epistolary Novels
Audience: Older Teen/Young Adult, Adult Crossover
Format: Audiobook

Summary: Fifteen-year-old high school freshman Charlie is anxious about starting high school, especially after his only friend committed suicide last year. So he chooses an unnamed stranger as his confidante. Over the course of a year, he sends anonymous letters describing his triumphs and tribulations as he befriends two seniors who welcome him into their eccentric group of friends and show him how to engage with the world.

First Line: “Dear Friend, I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand and didn’t try to sleep with that person at that party even though you could have.”   

Tracy’s Thoughts:
Charlie is now one of my all-time favorite book characters. His narrative voice is one of the strongest I’ve ever read, engaging and startling in its naive honesty. Charlie is unguarded about his emotions, often to the bafflement of those around him, and honestly clueless about many of the basics of social interaction. Take the following passage between Charlie and his older sister:

“I hate you.”
My sister said it different than she said it to my dad. She meant it with me. She really did.
“I love you,” was all I could say in return.
“You’re a freak, you know that? Everyone says so. They always have.”
“I’m trying not to be.”

He is vulnerable, awkward, and sometimes downright brilliant. In a word, he has depth. The book’s other characters, including the “unconventionally beautiful” Sam and her stepbrother Patrick, are equally well drawn and likeable. This book’s story and characters seem completely real, and it is almost impossible not to relate to them no matter how different your life may be.

Wallflower has been frequently compared to classic coming-of-age novels like The Catcher in the Rye and A Separate Peace. But although it addresses a lot of “issues”—suicide, sex, drugs, depression, abuse, homosexuality, bullying, teen pregnancy, etc.—it’s not all angst. Instead, it is a completely engrossing story full of hilarity, heartbreak, and inspiration. There were parts that made me laugh out loud; others left me stunned, anxious, saddened, hopeful. Although this book was published over a decade ago, it speaks to an age-old high school experience. It doesn’t feel outdated at all, though I could be a bit biased considering I was a high school student myself in the 90s. But considering the movie adaptation is coming out next month—featuring what promises to be a very un-Hermione role for Emma Watson—I don’t think I could be too biased. (The cast also includes Logan Lerman from the Percy Jackson movies as Charlie, with Paul Rudd, Mae Whitman, Vampire Diaries‘ Nina Dobrev, and others.)

In addition to the excellent characterizations and well-crafted story, I love how Charlie relates to so much through books and music. (As we’ve covered before, I am a sucker for books featuring characters who have a special relationship with books and/or music.)  For me, The Perks of Being a Wallflower more than lived up to its reputation. I loved it, which in turn makes me a bit wary of the upcoming movie adaptation. But since Stephen Chbotsky wrote the screenplay and directed as well, I have faith the film will remain true to the novel. Here’s the official trailer, in case you haven’t seen it yet:

I don’t actually go to the movies very often (the last movie I saw was The Hunger Games), but I am looking forward to seeing this one. What about you? Do you plan to see the movie adaptation when it comes out?

REVIEW: A Land More Kind Than Home by Wiley Cash

Rating: 4/5 Stars
Genre: Psychological Suspense/Southern Gothic
Audience: Adult

Summary: In a small North Carolina mountain town outside Asheville, evil has festered for years in the form of Pastor Carson Chambliss, an ex-con and born-again Christian who encourages his congregation to speak in tongues, handle deadly snakes and fire, and drink poison to prove their faith. Adelaide Lyle recognized the danger years ago and insisted that the congregation’s children steer clear of Chambliss’s raucous services and attend Sunday school with her instead. But a series of events, beginning with the snooping of a young boy, brings the evil out into the open and shatters a family forever.

First Line: “I sat there in the car with the grave dust blowing in the parking lot and saw the place for what it was, not what it was right at that moment in the hot sunlight, but for what it had been maybe twelve or fifteen years before: a real general store with folks gathered around the lunch counter, a line of people at the soda fountain, little children ordering ice cream of just about every flavor you could think of, hard candy by the quarter pound, moon pies and crackerjack and other things I hadn’t thought about tasting in years.”

Tracy’s Thoughts:
Human weaknesses and vulnerabilities are exposed in this evocative novel about rural life, fate, and redemption. Equal parts Southern Gothic and Greek tragedy, it calls to mind the work of Flannery O’Connor. The story is narrated by a chorus of three voices: Adelaide, the town
wise woman and healer, a woman who at nearly eighty tells it like she
sees it; Sheriff Clem Barefield, still somewhat of an outsider, a middle-aged man
haunted by his own family tragedy; and nine-year-old Jess, precocious
and adventurous, a boy older than his years from looking out for
his mute and most likely autistic older brother. The novel weaves
back and forth through time, seamlessly revealing events of the past to
elucidate the tragedy that occurs early on in the narrative. This
layering of perspective and events creates a dark, quiet intensity that
pulls you in, the tension gradually building up to the final,
inevitable conclusion.

And debut author Wiley Cash’s writing is fabulous.The dialog and idioms are spot on, perfectly capturing the flavor of the mountains and its people without introducing awkward, unreadable dialect. The lyrical prose is unpretentious, and the characters lovingly crafted.This is a must-read for anyone who enjoys the work of Tom Franklin and John Hart. This book offers plenty of food for thought and discussion; it would make an ideal book club read.

REVIEW: Home by Toni Morrison

Rating: 4/5 Stars
Genre: Literary Fiction/Historical
Audience: Adult

Summary: Following his return to the States after serving in the Korean War, Frank Money finds coping with “normal life” a challenge. He is haunted by what he has witnessed and by what he has done. Furthermore, he experiences panic attacks and occasional violent spells he has no memory of later. Recently escaped from a mental institution after an “episode,” Frank finds his purpose in a mission to rescue his younger sister from a dangerous situation. But to help Cee, he has no choice but to return to the Georgia hometown he detests.

First Line: “They rose up like men.”

Tracy’s Thoughts:
Why haven’t I read more Toni Morrison? I loved Beloved, but haven’t brought myself to pick up any of her other works until now. Perhaps I am wary of the gut-wrenching, emotional devastation that I associate with her stories? There is certainly plenty of sadness and disillusion to be found in this slim novel, yet there is also redemption. In less than 150 pages, Morrison takes on PSTD, family dysfunction, and the rampant racism of 1950s America. But the heart of this novel is the relationship between brother and sister and their separate journeys to make peace with themselves, the past, and their lives now.

The novel skillfully interweaves the past and present and also offers up the barest hint of magical realism. Morrison’s prose is lyrical, restrained yet startling in its power, the rhythms of her words and sentences resonating like poetry. Her language is clear and accessible, yet still manages to feel lush. This novel is told mostly in third person omniscient tense, occasionally focusing on characters other than Frank, most notably his sister Cee. However, some of the most powerful moments are when Frank “interrupts” the storyteller to provide his own first-person account, which further illuminates and sometimes even corrects the story we have been told thus far. This novel is deceptively simple and could perhaps benefit from a bit more fleshing out, but the spareness has an undeniable power if its own.

GUEST REVIEW: The Night Strangers by Chris Bohjalian

We have a new guest reviewer! Mary W. is a BCPL employee and an avid fan of  “weird” books, or so she once told me. For her first review, she is taking on the latest novel by Chris Bohjalian, who is probably best known for Midwives (a former Oprah Book Club pick). Another of his novels, Double Bind, had a Great Gatsby connection, and this one seems to be somewhat influenced by The Turn of the Screw. I’ve been meaning to try Bohjalian for ages, and I actually gave The Night Strangers a try (in audio format), but I had to give up because I found the reader’s delivery to be wooden and unlistenable. But based on Mary’s reaction and other reviews I’ve read—from Justin Cronin, author of The Passage: “The first chapter of Chris Bohjalian’s The Night Strangers is so riveting, I dropped the book in the tub.”—I definitely need to seek out a print copy ASAP.   —Tracy

Mary’s Rating: 4/5 Stars
Genres: Psychological Suspense/Horror
Audience: Adult

 First Line: “The door was presumed to have been the entry to a coal chute, a perfectly reasonable assumption since a small hillock of damp coal sat moldering before it.”

Mary’s Guest Review & Summary:
The book starts with a small jet taking off from an airport and running into a flock of birds, which destroy the engines, and the pilot must land in a lake. He hopes to make a safe landing but instead the plan flips end-over-end and 39 passengers are killed. As a result of this, he can’t fly anymore and his family decide to move to a small community in hopes he will heal from his nightmares. They move into a house with a door in the basement that has 39 large screws placed around it so it cannot be opened. He decides to open it anyway.

Time to change subjects. He is married to a nice lady and has twins who are not quite teens yet. The teens don’t care for the new place and one is hearing voices in the night. The people who are their neighbors are herbalists and have lots of greenhouses everywhere. Sort of like a cult.

This book has a lot of twists and turns and sometimes I got lost at first but it gets more and more interesting as it goes on. If you like books about ghosts, witches, and weirdo people, this book will be a good read for you. I can only say one word about the ending of the book! ASTONISHING! I didn’t see the ending coming. The epilogue stood me on my head!! This book is not for the faint of heart.

REVIEW: The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach

Rating: 5/5 Stars
Audience: Adult
Genres: Realistic Fiction

Summary: Henry Skrimshander’s life changes forever when he catches the eye of college sophomore Mike Schwartz at a no-name summer baseball tournament. The next school year, Henry finds himself at Westish College, a small liberal arts college situated on Lake Michigan. Under Schwartz’s tutelage and with the guidance of his favorite book, The Art of Fielding, Henry hones his natural talent. By his junior year, the Westish Harpooners have become a solid ball team and Henry is attracting attention from the MLB scouts. But then a freak error injures a teammate, sends Henry into a spiral of self-doubt, and sparks changes in the lives of those connected to him. While recovering from his injury, Owen falls into a relationship that could end badly for both involved. Schwartz becomes jealous of Henry’s success and feels uncertain about his own future. Affenlight, the college president, falls in love with someone he never imagined having feelings for. And Affenlight’s daughter Pella, who has just left her husband, returns to her father in search of a new start.

Tracy’s Thoughts:
Baseball and Melville in a single book? Sign me up! And I don’t even like baseball. But anyone who can create a world where the two coexist, jocks aren’t stereotyped idiots, and the characters read has my attention. Of course, The Art of Fielding isn’t strictly about baseball (although sports-types will doubtless find much to enjoy here). So yes, it is about sports; and yes, it is a bit about academia and even literature. But at its core, The Art of Fielding is a quintessential coming-of-age novel: primarily character driven. And Harbach’s characters are superbly drawn indeed. They are complex, intellectually engaged characters, but they are also grounded in the physical world. The novel rotates close, third-person perspectives from chapter to chapter, and each voice is distinctive and authentic. As a reader, I was predisposed to dislike certain characters who shall remain nameless, and yet once I got inside their minds, I understood them and worried about them as if they were real people. Of the five main characters, only Owen doesn’t take a turn at narrating. Instead, he remains something of an enigma, but this perfectly suits his characterization.

The Art of Fielding is undeniably smart and yet it is also a fun, easy read. The pace is unhurried, almost leisurely, but the clear, unpretentious prose carries with it an energy that makes the novel utterly absorbing. Harbach’s imagery is surprising and yet, in a way, obvious. So, too, the story itself: it holds endless revelations and yet, by the end, has an inevitability about it. It all fits together perfectly, and perfectly reflects Affenlight’s own philosophy of writing:

It was easy enough to write a sentence, but if you were going to create a work of art, the way Melville had, each sentence needed to fit perfectly with the ones on either side, so that three became five and five became seven, seven became nine, and whichever sentence he was writing became the slender fulcrum on which the whole precarious edifice depended. That sentence could contain anything, anything, and so it promised the kind of absolute freedom that, to Affenlight’s mind, belonged to the artist and the artist alone. And yet that sentence was also beholden to the book’s very first one, and its last unwritten one, and every sentence in between.

Many novels—from disappointing sports novels to obscure literary tomes—purport to be the next Great American Novel. Having drawn comparisons to authors ranging from Jonathan Frazen to David Foster Wallace (though I would suggest Harbach is much more accessible), greatness perhaps loomed largely in Chad Harbach’s mind over the nine years he spent on this first novel. And yet this book never seems to take itself too seriously. In fact, frequent references to Moby-Dick are but one example of the understated, unselfconsious humor that runs throughout. At the very least, The Art of Fielding is a Really, Really Good American novel, skillfully taking on both the Great American Pastime and a classic considered by many to be THE Great American Novel. I was sorry to see it end—though the ending was completely satisfying—and I suspect that I will visit the characters and Westish College once again.