Another Flavia Tale

The Week That Strings the Hangman's Bag, Alan Bradley

Poor, Flave. Once again she's witness to a murder. At least this time she's not alone, though.

Charming and precocious Flavia deLuce is back in another murder mystery. This time, a puppeteer meets his untimely demise in front of half the town, in a production of Jack and the Beanstalk. Our favorite, pint-sized sleuth uses her strengths- wit, keen observation, and unquenchable curiosity- and her weaknesses to solve the puzzle.

It's an odd mystery that makes it almost halfway through before the murder occurs. A good bit of the character development of the less-than-angelic Mr. Porson takes place before he dies. Like preparing a good meal, Bradley seasons and salts the character after death.

Alas, the story itself is just not as good as the first. Usually I find that an author gets better within a series, but this is decidedly worse than The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. As much as I looked forward to continuing the series, this one left me unimpressed. Flavia's connection to the story is weird and shallow. The mystery arc itself might have been good, but it doesn't relate to Flavia in even a suspension of disbelief-believable way.

Hangman only earns 2.5 Marias. Maybe I'll try another later.

Chapter 38: A Book with a One Word Title

Baggage, S.G. Redling

Another Kindle Unlimited title that I snagged to cross off an item on the list. I did not have high hopes for this book. The first 30-40% of it, I was sure the whole thing was going to be awful. Besides the single word title, I picked it because it reminded me of slam dancing with my sister at The Metro to this. So, I was surprised when the story (finally) caught my interest.

Anna Shuler Ray has had terrible things happen to people around her on February 17. Really, really terrible things. To two people, so it seems more like a coincidence than some sort of lifelong pattern. So while she is drinking herself into a stupor in an admittedly poor attempt to cope with the anniversary, someone on her campus is murdered. In the building where she works. Oh, and the guy is interested in her.

Cousin Jeannie is in town, as some sort of enabling support. I mean, sure, sometimes cranking up your favorite childhood pop hits, devouring junk food, and chugging bottles of wine SEEMS like a great idea. But, really? Is this helping someone you love? Someone you consider your sister? This falls firmly on my list of Bad Ideas.

So, ambitionless alcoholic narrator is similar to Girl on the Train, but unlike Rachel, Anna has zero interest in getting involved in another crime. She tries so hard to avoid any connection that she draws attention to herself. As the story progresses, the story arc I expected to unfold doesn't. Well, not exactly. I was right about the villain and the motive, but how we get to that point was not what I thought.

Even with a rough start, Anna's tale became more engrossing. The flashback chapters were clear and crucial to understanding how Anna has become some miserable. I found myself liking her more, in part because the third person flashbacks give her some tenderness and vulnerability that the first person narrative full of self-deprecating remarks dragged the beginning. By about halfway through, I wanted to read more- not so much for the revelation of The Big Secret, which was no surprise- but to see what kind of road Anna might move along next.

One of my favorite scenes is in the police station, when an officer has confronted Anna with a particularly painful piece of evidence that ties her to the campus murder(s). The rest of Anna's lines are simply "fuck you." Over and over. And it was great because I felt that complete loss of any reasonable response and her need to just stand her ground with her "phrase du jour." It was comedic, dramatic, and realistic. I loved it.

My biggest disappointment with the novel is that there is mention of a crime from the past that earned a name. You know the type- BTK, Westside Strangler, Columbine. Sensational murders that could be concentrated into a few little words that are universally recognized for their horror. So, after reading the book, I googled the name of the crime from Anna's past. No wikipedia entry. Nothing. And I just feel like making a couple of true crime-style webpages would be a great publicity for the book and just add an element to the overall style. I know this is a fictional crime, but having that to read after would have probably earned an extra half Maria.

Still, I enjoyed the book once it really got rolling and found myself interested in a pretty flat character. So Baggage earns 3.5 Marias for being surprisingly satisfying.

Chapter 34: A Book Based On a True Story

Booth's Sister, Jane Singer

What's it like being related to an infamous criminal? How do you juggle love of family with hate of their crimes? What lengths would you go to in order to protect your best friend?

A novelization of the real memoirs of Asia Booth, this book seeks to frame her story in the context of a bizarre childhood of theater and seclusion. At times magical, at others devastating, the Booths grew up in a peculiar family to say the least.

I typically enjoy historical fiction, but I've never read much about this era and nothing about John Wilkes Booth. Aside from his cry of "Sic Semper Tyrannis" I don't really know much about the man. Viewing his spiral to infamy through the eyes of his devoted yet jealous sister is intriguing. The disparity between what boys and girls can do, between each one's moral compass, and ultimately between their fates makes me wonder at the depth of love.

I don't want to give much away, because those who like historical fiction will also probably like this novel. Asia, as a woman and as a social outcast, can get away with some things that others would never attempt. In that way, she shapes the future of the entire nation- whether she's a willing participant or not.

I might refer back to this one as I attempt to portray sympathy for characters that are not always sympathetic. Singer portrays Asia Booth with humanity, neither elevating nor diminishing her. Booth's Sister gets 3.5 Marias.

Chapter 31: A Book With a Love Triangle

Drums of Autumn, Diana Gabaldon

I have a love-hate relationship with the Outlander series. Years ago, I was at a Mommies Network event and someone handed me a copy of Outlander that she had won. She had a whole box of them and knew I like to read. It sat on the shelf until a night of insomnia and no new books. I'm still not sure whether I should be thanking that woman or sticking pins in a voodoo doll. For now, I'm going with thanks.

Drums is the fourth installment of the preposterous tale of Claire Randall-Fraser, a war-time nurse who stepped through a gap in stones and ended up in the middle of the Jacobite Rebellion. After cheating death time and again, she goes back through the stones to spend time with her modern-day husband, Frank. When he dies, she goes back to her historical husband, Jamie. So two of the points of the triangle don't even exist in the same century. Confused yet?

In this episode, Jamie and Claire have been blown to the Colonies by a hurricane and are looking to start a homestead in North Carolina, where Jamie is technically not allowed to own land because of his involvement with the Rebellion. But rules of physics and man really just don't apply to these people. It's funny, I can suspend disbelief about time travel and many of their narrow escapes, but I found Jamie surviving a bear attack and killing it with his hands utterly ridiculous.

The first three books ended with a big cliffhanger. I quickly picked up the next to find out what was going to happen. I'm quite happy that I could stop at Drums, even though there is more story to be told. It was very satisfying to feel that I can pick up the next one when the mood strikes me, instead of needing to know right away.

So. What I loved about this book- North Carolina. I lived in this state longer than anywhere else in my life. It's beautiful, interesting, and home to some of the best people I have ever known. I loved reading about people for whom many places in the Tarheel State are named. (But go Devils! because I'm no UNC fan.) Imagining the colony from the point of view of the Scots who settled in the mountains, where there are still annual Highland Games, was fascinating and believable. There also isn't a whitewashing of relations with the Native Americans in the region. There's no kum-ba-yah scene where they share a meal in peace and decide to remain loyal friends. There's just a tenuous understanding between the lone settlers and the travelers through the lands.

What I don't love about this book/series. I've mentioned this before, but seriously everybody gets raped. Or almost gets raped. It's exhausting. It happens, yet again, in this one. Though not as graphic and repeated as earlier stories, I find myself wishing that Gabaldon would come up with some other type of danger for her characters.

With that warning, I do recommend the series to people. It's engrossing, entertaining, and a little bit of several genres- historical fiction, fantasy, romance. Plus, Starz produced it as a series and the theme song, a variation of The Skye Boat Song, is beautiful. My friend just bought a Mitsubishi Outlander, and every time I see it, I start singing.

I'll probably keep these books so I can lend them out to friends, but I doubt I'll read them again. Maybe. Drums is probably my second favorite of the four I have read, but this isn't the kind of series you can hop around. I'll give it three and half Marias.

Chapter 28: A Book More Than 100 Years Old

Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte

Dear Reader, it took me a month to get through the nearly 500 pages of this one. I am a little embarrassed to admit that I went this long without reading a Bronte, but now I am free of that burden. I have so many thoughts about Jane, I'm not even sure where to begin. I'll give it a stab, though.

First, in today's world, this would not be a passionate love story. Mr. Rochester is kind of a jerk. Besides the fact that he comments frequently on his superiority, he threatens Jane with violence. Oh, and he locked his inconvenient wife in the attic, where she has to witness his wooing of two different women. No wonder she wants to burn him alive. In today's world, Jane would give him the heave-ho and find her own bliss- with or without a husband.

But the story doesn't take place today. It takes place in a time when women were expected to defer to the nearest available man, to not think, just do. And Jane is an unexpected woman. She has her own, steadfast moral compass. She is witty and challenges men who are unaccustomed to that. I daresay that her cousin, St. John, does love her in a way she does not see. Maybe not in a physical attraction, but she stirs something in him that is quite like love. He asks her multiple times to be his helpmeet, which, to me, says he sees her as a partner- a pretty important factor in love.

So, I couldn't get swept away in the romance like so many others. (I swear, my mother-in-law gets a little dizzy imagining Rochester and Jane.) But I can see how this work is so revolutionary. Not only were women not published back then, but female characters were not to have their own ideas about the world.

Other things I love about Jane- she doesn't go through the she-was-always-pretty-and-never-realized-it transformation. I love that she finds a way to flourish in any environment. I love that she is willing to do something very painful because it is right. I love that she is also willing to believe in the supernatural enough to make an ill-planned journey, to chase a dream. She's also book smart and caring and matter-of-fact. And her wit! The men in her life love the way she turns a phrase. She's the ultimate at playing hard to get.

I've read a few reviews of another book from the perspective of the first Mrs. Rochester. Probably won't pick it up any time soon, but she is the reason I started this one. The Wolf Man in Chapter 20's selection loves Jane Eyre because he sympathizes with the locked away Bertha. I'm not sure there is enough material in the original to make her sympathetic- she's basically an insane specter that sets things on fire. But you do have to at least acknowledge that she is aware of Mr. Rochester's affection for Jane and see how troubling that would be for a sane person, much less an already disturbed mind.

I would love for the red room story to be more developed, to know more about the haunting of the Reed's manor. It has the makings of a great tale. Maybe there is a short story exercise in that for me. Afterall, it is almost Halloween.

So, remembering to keep it all in context, Jane Eyre earns 3.5 Marias. I won't be buying a copy or reading it again, but I also don't feel like setting anything on fire.

Chapter 22: A Book Published This Year

Go Set A Watchman, Harper Lee

You can't possibly be surprised that the most anticipated novel of the year is my selection for this category. Normally I try to keep my posts to the actual book, but there is no way to discuss this one without including a number of other issues. I'll try my best not to give away the plot beyond what is necessary.

First, the legal controversy. I was wary of purchasing Watchman because of the allegations of elder abuse. So I turned to facebook, specifically friends who I trust in important matters of southern writing, and not only agreed that the evidence of abuse was lacking but that Ms. Lee had a much more personal reason for holding back on this particular piece. The real Scout still has that compassion she learned in Atticus' lap decades ago.

Next, the writing. Watchman was rightfully rejected by Lee's publisher not because the story is bad but because it is immature. Understanding and loving Scout and Atticus of To Kill A Mockingbird makes Watchman a very different novel indeed. And, if you are like me, you grew up loving Scout like a sister. Atticus was the kindly neighbor who taught the whole community with his placid ways. But Jean Louise, as an adult, has a lot of growing up still to do. Without fully knowing her upbringing, she would come across as hysterical and dramatic- not that the situation doesn't warrant some histrionics, but the context of her childhood makes her wild reaction more sympathetic.

Now it would be unjust to discuss this novel without also talking about race and racism in America. I can be clumsy in these talks, so please have mercy and bear with me. Though set in the 1950's, the book could still be set today. In the wake of many headline-making stories of racism, "look how far we've come" seems to be not very far. Maybe we are not talking in productive ways. Is it possible for a person to be good and also be racist? Can a white, especially a southern white, speak against racism without being paternalistic? (This is one of those areas where I get very clumsy because, surprise! I don't know what it's like to be black in America. I know stories. I know what I witness, but that is not the same. Whenever a major event occurs and we as a nation talk about race in some new context, I  defer to someone with experience that I cannot possibly have. Sometimes that makes me really uncomfortable because I am faced with my own prejudice, but I am a seeker of knowledge. /tangent) Is it possible for a kinder, gentler style racist to move beyond that? Or is the psychic pain just too much to bear?

Some other things that this book has me thinking about- the tangled relationship between law and social change. Am I a Scout? Or am I an Atticus? Do the ends justify the means? Whose responsibility is it to help adults grow? Is there such thing as collective consciousness? I don't know the answer to any of these questions. I have ideas and I have a willingness to listen to other people's ideas on the subject, too.

So, aside from the racism, Lee really hits on some other things that I think have been overlooked by many because they are small in comparison. But I feel like she did a wonderful job of capturing what is now called the quarter-life crisis. Jean Louise has graduated college, is living on her own far from her home and just now really having to define herself as an individual. I'll be honest, I was so glad to get out of my 20's! There was so much turmoil and drama. I understand Jean Louise's wild reactions because I felt so passionately, too. But time has mellowed me some and maybe it will her. It does make me wonder if Atticus was ever so fiery, but we will probably never know.

The other thing illustrated beautifully in Watchman that lives in the shadow of Atticus' fall from grace is related to that fall and to Jean Louise's age. Scout left home. She returns annually as if it is a duty. She detests much of Maycomb, yet loves it, too. In all of her struggle, she fails to see how very much like her father she is, even when she thinks she hates him. The old adage "There's something about that guy I just don't like about myself" is spot on in this case. I'm not sure if Jean Louise ever comes to that conclusion. Honestly, I'm not sure what becomes of her. But the glimpse into her life as a young adult was interesting and thought-provoking.

Go Set A Watchman earns three and a half Maria's. It's not the best written work. On its own, it isn't even that compelling a story. But the context- that changes everything. For me, it's more an epilogue of Mockingbird than its own tale. I'd like to note that even if it isn't the best book published this year, it still belongs on the shelf with important literature. It still should be read. It is still relevant 60 years later. And, perhaps, as we undergo yet another Reconstruction (and future ones, too), we can learn something from Maycomb.

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 10: A Book With Antonyms in the Title

Big Little Lies, Liane Moriarty

In the first chapter or so, I thought the conflict was going to be a rehashing of The Mommy Wars. (I'll get to my rant about this at the end. Stay tuned.) Maybe I should read the blurbs or a review or two of a book before I check it out. Nah, this is more interesting. Anyway, I prepared myself for a bunch of moms behaving badly and then figuring out that they all love their children equally and singing Kum Bah Ya. Well ... not exactly.

First, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the conflict is not, in fact, between a stroller pusher and a babywearer. Breastmilk, formula, diapers, first foods, employment status- none are even mentioned. There are the Blonde Bob busybodies at the local elementary school, but it's unclear whether they allow their children gluten. So, what is the conflict? Someone is dead. We don't know who or how or why. We just know that a fundraiser got out of control and there were several events leading up to the presumed murder. Fun!

The story focuses on three women who have children in kindergarten. They become friends by chance and hide something important from one another. They are likable and easy to root for in the schoolyard conflicts, even as you begin to suspect each of treachery. Peppered throughout the main plot are transcripts of interviews about The Trivia Night. At first, it seems like police interviews, but you eventually realize they are with a journalist. These snippets are a clever glimpse into the minor characters' personalities and motivations. They keep the focus on the main three and still get a feel for the supporting cast.

At times hilarious and others heartbreaking, this is an engaging mystery on many levels. What secret is Jane hiding? Why does Celeste stay quiet? Does Madeline really have this mothering thing figured out? Who is the French nanny sleeping with? Who died? How? And just how does an Audrey and Elvis themed fundraiser turn into a melee?

Moriarty keeps you on the hook, turning pages to find the answers to all of these questions. She paces the story well and writes very natural dialogue. She also does an excellent job of delving into the thoughts and emotions of #whyIstayed. Two of the main characters have suffered intimate violence, and their thoughts on these experiences are very realistic. They both internalize and withdraw, blame themselves, rationalize, and vacillate between victimhood and empowerment. She somehow manages to bring all this to the table without either weighing the story down nor making light of the pains. And then she brings the whole thing to a satisfying and just conclusion. This title lands somewhere between Miss Marple and Desperate Housewives and was definitely worth the time investment.

End review.

Begin rant, possibly with harsh language.

So, The Mommy Wars. Frankly, it's time to let this die already. Let's start by admitting that we, as people, do judge others. Sometimes for ridiculous and shallow reasons. It happens. Now, let's throw in the confidence-shattering reality of parenthood. I don't know any parent who doesn't at least occasionally wonder if they are doing the right thing. Put these things together in an anonymous forum on the internet and you get conflict. Sometimes you get really ugly, childish conflict. This, my friends, is called The Mommy Wars.

But guess what? The same despicable behavior comes out in online forums about gaming, politics, religion, even book reviews! That's right, the internet is full of anonymous assholes. Every single comment section on the internet has someone trying to pick a fight. But for some reason, we don't have schmaltzy commercials about LARPers ending The Troll Wars. No one is writing pieces for the New York Times calling for an end to incivility on IMDB. Nope, this sort of thing is only so gigantically wrong that we have to give it a title if it happens among women with offspring.

And that, my friends, is a bunch of sexist garbage that we keep buying into. When I pushed that first placenta out, I did not go through some sort of cellular change that instantly made me hostile to women with C-sections or allergic to adoptive moms. This is not a mommy issue. Or even a female issue. This is how people behave when they have a cloak of anonymity, and there are volumes of psychological research into this topic. So let's all please just stop with the Mommy War nonsense.

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.