Chapter 39: A Book with a Color in the Title

Island of the Blue Dolphins, Scott O'Dell

I'm surprised I never read this one. I like historical fiction, and Island definitely belongs on several lists of books popular with tween girls, but maybe I was just too busy with Louisa May Alcott and the Babysitters Club series. Anyway, I picked it up for the Blue, not really knowing anything about it.

O'Dell took the true story of a woman who lived alone on an island for 18 years and turned it into an award-winning classic. Unlike other historical fiction I have enjoyed, like Phillipa Gregory's Tudor series, there is actually very little of The Lost Woman of San Nicolas that can be verified. Even the author's epilogue is disputed by some history buffs. So, with accounts given through pantomime and signing and the logs of a couple of captains, O'Dell crafted the tale of a woman's loneliness and survival. Regardless of how accurate it is, it belongs on children's shelves.

I'm not going to get into details of the plot, but I never thought details of fishing for a squid could be so compelling. Her relationship with the animals of the island makes me surprised Rontu isn't a more popular dog name.

There's no telling what "Karana" actually encountered and endured all those years, but I think O'Dell did a nice job of creating some conflict and resolution without turning it into an exhausting array of near-death experiences (something I grow weary of when reading the Outlander series). Karana is a realistic badass that I look forward to introducing my kids to. She earns 4 Marias for Island (and here is where we make a remark about white men getting things that natives/women worked for).

Chapter 18: A Nonfiction Book

The Devil in the White City, Erik Larson

I typically enjoy historical fiction. The Constant Princess from Philippa Gregory's Tudor series is one of my favorite books. What Larson has done here is take samples of actual communications from a historic period and written them into something unique. It reads like fiction but is all true. Nothing is conjured or imagined. The result is a bit magical.

It's hard not to go on and on about tiny details that make this book so interesting, how certain famous people's paths crossed or almost crossed. Reading many passages, I was excited to recognize people and events. That it covers both a city I love (Chicago) and a topic I find endlessly fascinating (serial killers) is almost icing on the cake. I learned new things, experienced the city in a different era, and found my insomniac hours filled with Wikipedia research.

So the main story is that of the World's Fair preparations in Chicago during volatile times (are they ever not?) This section focuses on the processes of designing and building the fair, the decadence and struggles of the creators, the emergence of new architectural art forms, and an appearance or two by Chicago's darling Frank Lloyd Wright. I say this is the main story because there is much more time and detail about the goings on of the fair. However, the parallel story of H.H. Holmes and his hotel of terror ticks right alongside it.

Now, if you are looking for details about Holmes- his methods and peculiarities- you will not find them here. I find Harold Schechter's research and analysis of serial killers to be well written and insightful. So check that one out if you want a more intimate portrait of Holmes. But, Larson does a decent job of putting Holmes into the context of labor unrest, financial panics, and the irresistible draw of an international display. After the fair ends, Larson turns to the pursuit and capture of Holmes but stops short of trial, conviction, and death. If you don't handle gore well, you don't have to worry about encountering it here.

 I found this book ... not exactly enjoyable, but still very readable. Perhaps fascinating is the right word for it. I am also very intrigued by others who have liked it, not people who I would expect to rave about murder, especially true crime. I won't be keeping it in my library. In fact, I've already packed it to pass on to my mom, who will pass it on to someone else. And I won't read it again. Still, Devil gets a solid 3 Marias for readability and interesting content. I'll even tack on an extra half for it's original format and writing.

P.S. If you like this one, I also recommend Shadow Divers for its storytelling style of nonfiction.

Chapter 2: A Book By a Female Author

Ruby: A Novel, Cynthia Bond

This book should come with a trigger warning in bold letters on the cover. Spoiler alert: everyone in it is abused in some way. Everyone.

It's unlikely that the Texas tourism board will add Ruby to any of its recommended reading lists. Set in the tiny, all-black town of Liberty, the novel is overstuffed with tragic tales of human and supernatural depravity. It is difficult to read just for the sheer volume of violence. There is a weight of authenticity that makes it all the harder to bear.

Focusing on the main characters, here's the basic story. A little girl is sold into prostitution and survives decades of torment at the hands of men, women, whites, and blacks. She is hardened yet vulnerable and either driven insane or possessed or both. She returns to her childhood home and falls down a rabbit hole of filth, sorrow, and torment.

Enter the hero. A slow and steady man. The town fool. Emasculated in his youth and raised by his socially powerful sister. In love with the title character from their only meeting in adolescence, he makes a plodding and blundering path to save her with the power of love and patience. And cleaning supplies.

Their histories wind through the pages as he carefully courts the woman deemed unworthy by the rest of the town. With each rising conflict, we flash back to some revelation about the handful of families that form Liberty.

It's difficult to say that I do or don't recommend this book. To recommend it would be to inflict a form of abuse on the reader- the pain etched on each page. But to not, would be to ignore the real plight of people who are abused. Her own story and those of survivors she has worked with are threaded through the chapters.

I have pretty strong feelings about ownership of stories (if you haven't heard my thoughts on The Help, stay tuned for another episode). Ms. Bond definitely owns enough of these tales to be an authentic storyteller. Even those she borrowed from friends and family are close enough to her own. She is probably compared to Toni Morrison and Maya Angelou for superficial reasons when more genuine ones exist. Her debut shows potential for adding her to their ranks in time.

There are a few points of criticism to note. A well crafted description tarnishes with use. What begins as poetic becomes tired by the end of the novel. There are a few phrases that are used a few too many times for my taste. Rephrasing or omission would polish it.

Paradoxically, the authenticity noted above, is also a weakness to the overall story. The descriptions of abuse and murder are all painfully realistic, but there are so many that it becomes difficult to suspend disbelief. In this town of a half-dozen families, there are hundreds of murders, mostly unsolved. And, while Ms. Bond is credible as a voice of the abused, her characterization of poor blacks in the rural South falls short. If it were funny, it would be satire. Instead, the townsfolk are so one-dimensional that I sometimes wondered if they had been drawn by an ambitious and overstepping white woman. In a word, they are simple. That lack of detail works to dehumanize in some ways.

Despite the difficult subject matter and my fairly minor technical critique, this is a well written story. Some twists come as expected and some are surprises. There is beauty in words depicting hideous acts. The structure and pace seem to conjure a spell over the reader, making it move nicely. If you can stomach what my friend politely calls "soul crushing fiction," Ruby is worth the effort.