fiftytwo

Book Twentyfive: Watchmen

2008-07-16T19:38:00.000-07:00

Watchmen, Alan Moore

This really is a great book, and I can't believe I haven't read it until now. I liked V for Vendetta to a certain extent, but this is much, much better. There is a lovely cohesiveness to the seemingly scattered story. Themes keep repeating and overlaid stories subtly echo the visuals and ideas in the main plot. And yet... I'm starting to think that Mr. Alan Moore is totally off his rocker. In a way that kind of scares me. Whatever vision he has for a future world is a world I do not want to live in. Which may be the point. But I'm just saying.

Book Twentyfour: Flower Net

2008-07-05T18:48:00.000-07:00

Flower Net, Lisa See

This was a freebie at my book club--actually this plus the other two in the series--and I couldn't resist it. A mystery set in China? Sign me up! It's not that it was bad, but it just wasn't quite as good as I wanted it to be. There were even elements of Chinese medicine in there (which was quite accurate, I'm happy to report) and part of the story was set in Chengdu, which I loved. However, not all of the pieces came together for me. The romance between the two main characters was pretty clunky and, I thought, unnecessary, and the ending left me thinking, "Meh." But there was also some interesting stuff about the Cultural Revolution, Chinese organized crime, and some lovely descriptions of Chinese culture and food that made me miss China just a tiny bit.

Also, I could only read this imagining the movie playing in my head, and I couldn't decide if that was bad or good. I have never read a book that feels so much like a movie. I mean, it seemed almost as if it was transcribed from a movie, which was totally weird. Perhaps it's that my only exposure to this genre has been in the movies so that's all I could picture, but I'm thinking that's only the partial truth. This was Lisa See's first attempt at a mystery/thriller and maybe that's all she could see in her head, too. Just a thought.

I have the other two books in the series sitting around, so I'm sure at some point I'll pick them up. This was a pretty fast read and perhaps Lisa See worked through some of the clunkiness of this first book in the next two. We'll see.

Book Twentythree: The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets

2008-07-01T13:41:00.000-07:00

The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets, Eva Rice

About 30 pages from finishing this book this morning, I had an irresistible craving for fresh scones, so Chris and I assessed the pantry and discovered with delight that we had all the makings for cherry almond scones on hand. About 45 minutes later, after some mixing and baking and a quick run to the corner store for soy milk, we had hot scones with butter and jam, along with a fresh pot of tea and soymilk. Yum! A perfect accompaniment to this sweet little British story that takes place in the mid 50s. The characters were fascinating and the descriptions of houses and stores and clothes and post-war London and tea time snacks were vivid and beautiful and, even though the dialogue at times wasn't the best, I was swept along with the story to the very end.

Book Twentytwo: Twilight

2008-06-26T12:17:00.000-07:00

Twilight, Stephenie Meyer

I know, I know. But would you believe that up until one week ago I had no idea that this book even existed? And once I knew the few things I needed to know about it--YA novel (check), vampires (check), Olympic Peninsula setting (yay! check), forbidden teen love (sure, ok, check)--I was pretty much sold. Also I watched the trailer for the movie that is going to be coming out later this year, and it stars the kid who played Cedric Diggory in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, who I find far too cute because, yes, he's so very very young, so then I knew that I just had to read it. Yes, like a dark force compelled me to do so.

I'm not going to say that this is the best book ever written. Far, far from it. And it's certainly not the worst. But, it has that special something, because what other book would have me up before 8am reading on the sofa with a mug of tea, frantically racing to find out what will happen to dear Bella Swan and her vampire love, Edward Cullen? Will they find true everlasting love, or will he rip her carotid artery open and drink her blood in a moment of passion whilst they make out in her bedroom? Oh, the suspense!

Book Twentyone: Ten Days in the Hills

2008-06-21T17:52:00.000-07:00

Ten Days in the Hills, Jane Smiley

Have you ever had a book that was trying to kick your ass? I mean, it sucked so bad that you felt like it was actually defeating you? Well, my response to that kind of book is to fight back. I know, I know. The rational response should be to simply admit defeat, give up, and move on to another book. But I just can't help myself. I'm like Rocky. I feel like I just need to go the distance, even though I know I'm clearly outmatched. Simply put, this book is Apollo Creed and even though it bested me in the end, I'm the one at the top of the stairs at the Philadelphia Museum of Art pumping my fists in the air and punching sides of beef. Wait... what? I think that metaphor got away from me in the end.

Okay, so what's this book about? A bunch of characters gather in someone's house in the hills of LA (for ten days, duh), and some of them have strangely graphic but not-at-all erotic sex and then they all just talk and talk and talk and talk. When it was suggested by someone in our book club, I had hopes for something like The Anniversary Party. But no such luck. This quote, from the perspective of one of the characters (and I didn't even like this guy!), pretty much sums up how I felt about everyone in the book.

It was as if he had somehow embarked on a cruise, something he had avoided all his life, and suddenly here he was, far out in a sea of languor with a group of people who on land could be avoided, and were therefore fine enough, but here, on this cruise, were insufferable. He sighed. They made him sigh. It was not precisely that they were boring, but more that they caused the expansion of time, so that every second, every moment, swelled to infinity.

Book Twenty: The Poisoned Chocolates Case

2008-06-06T18:17:00.000-07:00

The Poisoned Chocolates Case, Anthony Berkeley

The Poisoned Chocolates Case is a neat little mystery about a group of wannabe detectives who are members of a group called the Crimes Circle in 1920s London. They are given an unsolvable case by Scotland Yard and each member is allowed to try and solve the case on their own. I'll allow the back blurb on my edition of the book to explain the plot further (and far more eloquently than I):

The detectives are the members of the Crimes Circle--a lawyer, a woman dramatist, a detective-story writer, a woman novelist, and a little man called Chitterwick, with Roger Sheringham as the president. Provided by a Scotland Yard inspector with the details of the murder of a Mrs. Bendix, each member prepares a statement of his or her theory of murderer and motive. Piquancy is added to the situation by the fact that the chief characters in the dramatic story that is gradually unfolded are personally known to all present.

What makes it even more fun is that each member of the club employs different ways of solving the murder and ends up putting their own spin on the solution. Sometimes it seemed that Mr. Berkeley was mocking each member's profession a bit, in the best and most entertaining way, of course. For example, in a description of Sir Charles Wildman, the barrister, Berkeley writes:

There was no one at the Bar who could so convincingly distort an honest but awkward fact into carrying an entirely different interpretation from that which any ordinary person (counsel for the prosecution, for instance) would have put upon it. He could take that fact, look it boldly in the face, twist it round, read a message from the back of its neck, turn it inside out and detect auguries in its entrails, dance triumphantly on its corpse, pulverise it completely, re-mould it if necessary into an utterly different shape, and finally, if the fact still had the temerity to retain any vestige of its primary aspect, bellow at it in the most terrifying manner. If that failed he was quite prepared to weep at it in in open court.

And of course, he doesn't just have it in for lawyers. He makes fun of the playwright, the novelist, and even the detective writer (like himself) with equal enthusiasm. The end result is highly entertaining, because it ends up being more than a mystery--it's a study in characters and how one's own view of the world can taint your interpretation of what should be indisputable facts.

Chris ordered this book for me, and while I had never heard of it until now, research--um, I mean, wikipedia--tells me that it's a classic of the Golden Age of detective fiction.

Book Nineteen: Paul Goes Fishing

2008-05-29T18:15:00.000-07:00

Paul Goes Fishing, Michel Rabagliati

Let's see... children's books, comics... when will Ara Jane grow up? Never, I tell you, never!

We read one of the Paul books for my book club a couple of years ago (I believe at the recommendation of this lovely lady), and I loved it. I've since read the other one and now this puppy. While I still love Paul, I feel slightly less charmed by this one. Maybe it's the few areas where the story turned into a diatribe against corporate America, which seemed a bit heavy handed. For me, the brilliance of the Paul series is in its simplicity--both in the drawings and the stories. I love the nice dark lines and crispness of the panels and the sweet details he chooses to include. Also, how can you not love that he's Québécois and it was originally written in French and translated?

Since I started doing this project last year, I laid off the comics and graphic novels because I felt like they didn't count. I have a couple of the Moomin comic collections, a few Tintin books I haven't read, and at least two of the newest 100 Bullets that have been gathering dust on the bookshelf because I didn't want to waste the time on them if they didn't count toward my project. But I say phooey to all that now! It's time for literary equality. Books with pictures, I say stand up for your right to be counted! Don't let the man keep you down! You, too, deserve your places on the great bookshelves of history! Dickens, Azzarello, Austen, Herge, Homer, Hernandez, Melville--all are great and equal in this vast world of writing (and drawing)!

Book Eighteen: The Wind in the Willows

2008-05-27T23:55:00.000-07:00

The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame

Have you ever read a book that captures a feeling and a place so perfectly that you never, ever want to leave it? I know I'm a little late in the game on this one, but seriously, The Wind in the Willows is that book for me. Everything about the life of Mole, Rat, Badger, and Toad by the river sounds like my idea of heaven. I want to pack up and move in with Ratty and Moly and eat picnic lunches and laze around in the rowboat and visit Badger in the Wild Wood and even--even!--put up with Toad's antics.

Also, how cute are these little Puffin Classics editions?

Book Seventeen: Shark's Fin and Sichuan Pepper

2008-05-20T23:00:00.000-07:00

Shark's Fin and Sichuan Pepper: A Sweet-Sour Memoir of Eating in China, Fuchsia Dunlop

Oh, China! This is what my friends and I repeatedly sighed--or groaned--during our month of studying Chinese medicine in Chengdu. It is such a wonderful crazy place, and also a frustrating, and at times horrifying, place. Before I went to China, when I knew nearly nothing of the place, our friend Zev cooked us a multi-course Sichuan dinner, complete with yu xiang qie zi (fish-fragrant eggplant), ma po dou fu (pock-marked mother chen's tofu), and fan qie chao dan (fried eggs with tomatoes), among other things. His source for all these classic Sichuan recipes was Fuchsia Dunlop's Land of Plenty. Being in Chengdu I got to eat all these dishes over and over again and loved them all, however eating in China, especially as a vegetarian can be a frustrating experience. I was repeatedly irritated by biting into something I was assured was vegetarian only to find a meat surprise. I routinely picked around through dishes with my chopsticks separating the meat from the rest of the food, though, I must admit, by the end of the trip I got so lazy that a lot of that meat found its way into my belly. Oh, China!

Several months after I got back from Chengdu, with some good solid western food in my belly and a good dose of perspective, I realized how much I actually missed the food, so I bought myself a copy of Land of Plenty. Though I have yet to cook anything from its pages (mostly from laziness and a fear of not getting any of it right), I leaf through it from time to time and remember how much I loved some of this food (dan dan noodles, I'm looking at you). There's some wonderful commentary on Sichuan and Chengdu and the stories that go with some of the recipes are fun to just sit down and read. So, when I saw Fuchsia Dunlop's memoir was coming out, I knew I had to read it.

It's such a lovely memoir that starts with her spending a year in Chengdu, where she gets a taste for Sichuan cuisine, and ultimately comes back later to study at a culinary institute as its first official western student. The first part of the book is really my favorite. I mean, how often do you get to read a book by someone who has also been to a crazy place like Chengdu, who waxes nostalgic over its food and people, and then shows you parts of the city you didn't get a chance to know, making you wish you could go back? She goes on to travel through much of China, to Hunan where she writes her second cookbook, to Beijing where she discusses the imperial feasts of the Forbidden City, to Xinjian where she eats the food of the Uyghur (western China's muslim minority), and after a few more stops, to Yangzhou where she falls in love with its simple, pure cuisine. I love that she shows us how absolutely disparate Chinese cooking is, how different the people are, and ultimately how conflicted she ends up being about its food and ethics. She starts out eating everything with relish and then, in the wake of all the food contamination stories of 2007, realizes how not-so-idyllic Chinese cuisine can be. She shows how she falls in love with Chinese cooking and then how she teeters on the brink of falling horribly out of love with it. That's the China I know and love (and hate).

And, of course, in the midst of reading this, the horrible earthquake hit Sichuan province and Chengdu, so I've been spending a lot of time thinking about my time there and missing it even more and hoping that all will be okay.

Book Sixteen: Talking with My Mouth Full

2008-05-08T11:50:00.000-07:00

Talking with My Mouth Full, Bonny Wolf

As someone who listens to NPR more than a few hours a day, I was surprised that Bonny Wolf's name was unfamiliar to me. I would have thought I'd have heard her food commentaries on Weekend Edition or took notice of her name in the food writing world at all. But no. I came across this book on the library shelf in the food writing section that I regularly peruse, and thought it sounded sweet. Which is exactly what it was. Sweet, simple, full of recipes. Each essay is only a couple of pages long, on a variety of food topics ranging from her son's vegetarian stint in high school to Baltimore crab to Smith Island cakes to holiday traditions and on and on, and each one is followed by at least a few recipes.

While I wasn't blown away, I was pretty delighted with the book. And now that I realize I have to return it to the library, I'm a little sad that I don't own it, because there are several recipes I wouldn't mind trying or referencing at some point.

Book Fifteen: Interpreter of Maladies

2008-04-30T22:48:00.000-07:00

Interpreter of Maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri

Sometimes it feels like I'm only reading books for my book club, but when the books are this good, I honestly don't mind. And since I haven't been reading short stories much lately (maybe because of shit like this), it was refreshing to read short stories done well. I particularly liked "A Temporary Matter," "Sexy," "This Blessed House," and "The Third and Final Continent." But honestly, I loved them all.

Book Fourteen: Tears of the Giraffe

2008-04-27T22:58:00.000-07:00

Tears of the Giraffe, Alexander McCall Smith

Wheeeeee! More Precious Ramotswe!

(Shortest review ever.)

Book Thirteen: The Unprejudiced Palate

2008-04-23T22:04:00.000-07:00

The Unprejudiced Palate, Angelo Pellegrini

I have so many things so say about this book, that I honestly don't even know where to start. I had been looking forward to reading it for quite a while, since I heard some wonderful things about it--"It's a classic! Way ahead of his time!"--but reading it felt like punishment. Seriously, it's like spending two weeks with some guy who lectures you on what an idiot you are, how you are a failure because you don't grow all your own vegetables and make your own wine (I'm not kidding--who makes their own wine?), you don't drink enough or you drink too much and in the wrong places, and how America blows. While I can imagine it would have been interesting to hang out with this guy and eat all his tasty food and tour his expansive gardens, I can't imagine that there wouldn't be any minute of silliness or fun or joy.

About half way through the book, in an effort to make it even mildly palatable, I imagined it being read by Dwight Schrute from "The Office", and suddenly it was hilarious. But really, it had nothing to do with Angelo Pellegrini at all. In fact, I suppose anything read by Dwight Schrute would be pretty funny. The only redeeming elements came in the final few pages, when he talked about the future of food and how our country really does need to make some serious changes toward sustainability and think more about our food and where it comes from. I think these must be the passages that all the praise of this book is based on.

Speaking of praise, it sometimes pays to go back to the blurbs and read between the lines. Take this back cover blurb from Alice Waters:

"I have always thought that Angelo Pellegrini misnamed his charming but opinionated book. It should have been called "The Prejudiced Palate," because he is so absolutely sure and unwavering in his vision of how to live a beautiful and delicious life."

Is this really praise? Even the word "charming"--which is often used to describe rundown little houses in real estate listings or your boyfriend's old Southern grandmother who is subtly but persistently racist--isn't really praise, is it?

Book Twelve: Three Junes

2008-04-10T16:44:00.000-07:00

Three Junes, Julia Glass

Just as everyone promised, this book was a bazillion times better than The Whole World Over. Fenno, who I loved in the second book, is pretty much the main figure in her first book, and I loved him even more wildly this time around. Everything about this was lovely and wonderful.

Book Eleven: Northanger Abbey

2008-04-06T21:34:00.000-07:00

Northanger Abbey, Jane Austen

Though I loved every page of this book, it was so bittersweet since it's the last Jane Austen I hadn't yet read. What's next? Surely not one of the many modern continuing-story-of-Elizabeth-Bennett-and-Mr.-Darcy novels, or the postulations about Jane Austen's life that might be less than accurate. I was recently listening to Nancy Pearl on NPR recommend Georgette Heyer to readers in my same predicament--apparently the writing is up there with Ms. Austen's and the novels evoke the same feelings--though the covers turn me off a bit. Don't you think they look a little too romance-novel-esque? I suppose I could also read The Mysteries of Udolpho to really understand what Ms. Austen is mocking in Northanger Abbey. Or perhaps I can just start the cycle over again and re-read them all every few years or so!

I've really been enjoying taking more time lately to read. I spent a couple of hours between meetings on Thursday at a bakery with my book, some coffee, and the most delicious potato mini baguette. I hope to have many more days like this.

Book Ten: The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency

2008-03-31T17:30:00.000-07:00

The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, Alexander McCall Smith

At a neighborhood party a few weeks ago, my neighbor and I were having a drunken conversation about books, and when Alexander McCall Smith came up I started raving about the Sunday Philosophy Club series and she started raving about the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series, and neither of us had read the other. A week or so later, she showed up on our doorstep with the first few of the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency books for me to borrow, so I returned the favor and lent her the first couple of Sunday Philosophy Club books. Though I absolutely adore the Isabel Dalhousie novels, I've been hesitant to get into the Precious Ramotswe series because I wasn't sure if the setting really appealed to me. I mean, cold rainy Scotland is right up my alley, but hot arid Botswana kind of sounds like hell to me. But I was happy to discover that this book was super duper great and that I'm looking forward to reading the rest (discover--ha! as if I'm the first person ever to realize these are great books).

Also, I found it funny how similar the two protagonists are:

Both protagonists are women.
Both protagonists are women with an innate curiosities and penchants for detective work (though Precious is a detective by profession and Isabel is a sort-of-detective by hobby and, OK, so there's less detective stuff as the series goes on).
Both women love to drink tea.
Both women have maids who have been with them/their families for a while.
Both women seem to really love their countries and can't ever imagine living anywhere else.
Both women have a friend who acts as a sounding board and who may turn into a love interest later on...

Anyhow, Alexander McCall Smith had me with all the tea drinking. Seriously, I think someone is drinking bush tea on every other page. Now, that sounds like the good life to me.

Book Nine: Eat, Pray, Love

2008-03-29T16:41:00.000-07:00

Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia, Elizabeth Gilbert

Another of my book club's picks, which, I'm pleased to say, I finished far in advance of the book club meeting. Usually I'm rushing at the last minute as I finish reading the final chapters while trying to whip up a last minute dessert to bring to the meeting. But not this time--this is the new, improved Ara Jane who doesn't procrastinate who just might catch up on her book reading project in a few weeks if she keeps reading so diligently.

I honestly would never have picked this book in a million years. But I'm pretty happy to have read it. Elizabeth Gilbert at times made me infuriated with her. It's hard to not read a memoir and feel like the writer is far too self involved because is that not the nature of a memoir? I just wanted to reach across the pages and shake her and yell, "Snap out of it! Everyone's got their problems--what makes you think yours are so important and critical?" And then by the next page I sympathized with her, because I know how easy it is to get so wrapped up in your own issues that you can't see the forest for the trees, so to speak. And I think maybe that's what she's getting at here in the long run. Point proven, Ms. Gilbert.

The other thing that was difficult for me was all the God talk (actually, I think that's what's at the core of this book). While she doesn't speak particularly about one specific God or promote one religion over another, and even points out repeatedly that she doesn't believe that any one religion is correct, to someone who doesn't believe in any God at all I found it a bit too much. Why put all this effort and emotional energy into worrying about God? Who really cares? If it takes that much work and gives you that much angst, why sweat it so much? But, I found the story so interesting and her writing so simple and very funny and sweet, that in the end I didn't really mind all the other bullshit.

Book Eight: The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

2008-03-25T20:29:00.000-07:00

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Mark Twain

Boo for being sick! I was on the mend last week, and then Friday rolled around and I felt even worse than before, so I spent the entire weekend feeling too awful to even pick up a book. I filled my time with endless ANTM marathons on MTV, horribly wonderful movies that I was recently reminded of, and this evil game.

I'm not sure how much I can say about this. I mean, we all know how much Mark Twain rules, how this is a classic story, how we've all read it at some point--or were supposed to have read it. In fact, that's how I came to read this. Sitting around with Chris and two other friends, we were trying to find a classic book in common that we've all read. We couldn't come up with anything. So then we tried to come up with a classic that none of us had read. And then we all decided that we should have a book club where we all finally read said book and discuss it. Not sure how we landed on Tom Sawyer, but this will be our inaugural book for our book club. Yay!

Reading it now, I know that I recognize portions of it, but I don't think I ever read it in its entirety. The whole deal around whitewashing the fence is one of my favorite stories and I remember the stuff about getting lost in the cavern and Injun Joe's treasure, but I can't recall actually having read it. Is that true for a lot of classics--you know the story but you don't think you actually read it?

Anyhow, this was super fun to read and made me realize how much I love a good narrator. One who is a recognizable character without being an actual character in the story. Mark Twain is super good at that. He's witty and sometimes sarcastic and seems to love and understand his characters. I think that's what takes a really simple story and turns it into a really great one. Also, this edition of the book from The Mark Twain Project, is really nice. It's got all of the original illustrations and some nice helpful end notes.

Book Seven: I Love You, Beth Cooper

2008-03-17T14:27:00.000-07:00

I Love You, Beth Cooper, Larry Doyle

Denis Cooverman, our protagonist, is class valedictorian of BGHS, and in his graduation speech he throws caution to the wind and declares, "I love you, Beth Cooper," the girl he has consistently sat behind and had an unrequited crush on through all of school. Denis is captain of the debate team, while Beth is head cheerleader, which, in the world of teen movies, means their love is not destined to be. This is the impetus for all the action in this novel that follows Denis and his possibly gay best friend, Rich, through their evening of wacky hijinks. The abundance of pop culture references in this book might have initially turned me off, but about half way through I realized I just needed to relax and enjoy this book for what it is, which is essentially the literary form of all the teen movies it references. And being a lover of teen movies, who am I to balk at that? Each chapter begins with an illustration of what our hero, Denis Cooverman, looks like at that point in the evening (drawn awesomely by cartoonist Evan Dorkin), and is accompanied by a quote from some teen movie or another. These are the quotes that I picked up on, though if I gave it even a little more thought I may have gotten more:

Ghost World
Rushmore
Say Anything
Napoleon Dynamite
Breakfast Club
Back to the Future
Pretty in Pink
Clueless
Sixteen Candles
Heathers
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
Grease

I can only guess that the ones I didn't get came from movies like Porky's, American Pie, or Weird Science. The thing that's funny is, this is a book about contemporary teens, and yet most of the references are so old, would these kids even have gotten them? Sure, Napoleon Dynamite or maybe even Rushmore, but the others? Which makes me think, am I the prime demographic for this book? Maybe change my gender and I would even be a more perfect target. But, the thing is, this is really a funny book. I laughed out loud and even read some parts to Chris. Larry Doyle has, after all, written for "The Simpsons," "Beavis and Butt-Head," and, oh hey, the film adaptation of this very book! Way to bring it all back around to its self-referential self.

Book Six: What the Dead Know

2008-03-16T10:04:00.000-07:00

What the Dead Know, Laura Lippman

Thank god for being sick. Seriously, I've been holed up since Friday night doing nothing but reading and watching movies whilst blowing my nose, sniffling, coughing, and drinking enormous amounts of fluids. However, even if I wasn't sick, I still probably would have torn through this book at the same pace. I read this book on the recommendation of this super funny lady (aka Mindy Kaling, aka a writer for, and Kelly Kapoor from, "The Office"). I've been reading more mysteries in the last year (who am I kidding, I think before last year I had probably never read a mystery because I discounted them as trashy and simplistic), and was pleased to hear that there is a category called Mysterary. Now I can read mysteries and still be a great big snob? Ooh, fancy!

The simple setup for this amazing story is that two sisters disappeared in the 70s and until now they haven't been found and there are no clues surrounding their disappearance. But, a woman involved in a car accident is claiming that she is one of the sisters and has been missing for nearly 30 years. The novel unfolds as she slowly tells pieces of her story, but of course there are dead ends and things that still don't add up. I won't tell anymore, because I seriously want everyone to read this book!

Book Five: The Man of My Dreams

2008-03-12T10:42:00.000-07:00

The Man of My Dreams, Curtis Sittenfeld

Everything about this book seems like such a cliche. It's about a young woman growing up, chronicling her relationships--though more often than not, lack of relationships--with men. And, of course, there is the horrible father who she has unresolved issues with, and obviously plays a part in her distorted views of men. And there's the therapist and crazy cousin and bunch of other standard characters. However, Curtis Sittenfeld is such a freaking genius, that she can make all of this, still, a really good book. (I don't even need to say how good a book Prep was, do I?) I'm not going to say that The Man of My Dreams is a great book, but it was still quite good. I think it's the moments of truth and honesty that make up for the general triteness of the plot, when you see the character do something or say something and feel that it could have been you doing or saying that. Like, how does she get inside my head like that sometimes?

On the same theme, I totally hated the cover of the book. I read the hardcover copy from the library, which was even more embarrassing and made me feel as if I was reading the worst kind of chick lit.

Book Four: Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction

2008-03-08T13:57:00.000-08:00

Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction, Sue Townsend

This was a choice for my most recent book club, but I didn't quite finish the book in time, and then I was stressed out about not having anything special to bring to the book club (I usually like to bake something that goes with the theme of the book but didn't have time this month), and then there was a party at our neighbor's house at the same time, so that all added up to me skipping book club. I am sure at some point in my young adult life I read The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4, though I can't really remember much about it at all now. However, that hardly meant that I couldn't enjoy this, the most recent installment in the Mole diaries. I take it this book is a bit more serious than the past ones, as Adrian's life kind of spirals out of control in terms of relationships and debt, one of his sons is sent to Iraq for the war, and he is engaged--against his will, it seems--to a women he doesn't like at all. Sometimes it was difficult to read--I mean, it's really hard to watch someone, even a fictitious someone, make horrible choices and not be capable of doing anything about it. Though it's so amazingly funny that I could get past that. The whole back and forth about the swan (Mr. Swan) with Trixie Meadows, the Neighborhood Conflict Co-ordinator, really killed me.

At this rate, I am on an even more dreadful pace than I was last year to finish 52 books. And if I'm going to be totally honest with myself, it's because I watch far too much television. I will try to remedy this, but I'm not going to feel bad if things don't go quite as perfectly as I would like them to.

Book Three: Comfort Me with Apples

2008-02-23T23:07:00.000-08:00

Comfort Me with Apples, Ruth Reichl

This is the last of the Ruth Reichl memoirs that I've read. Actually, I read them out of order (I started with Garlic and Sapphires, went on to Tender at the Bone next, and finally picked up Comfort Me with Apples. I turned to this because I spent nearly a month struggling to get through the first 100 pages of The Perfectionist, which I just could not read and finally had to put aside. Seriously, not for the life of me. I am not one to give up on things easily. I have never walked out of a movie (though I have been tempted many times--I just have this feeling like what if I miss out on the best ending ever?) and I rarely don't finish books, but this one just wasn't doing it for me. I love love love food books, but this read more like a business book. Which stinks, because I heard such great things about it.

Ruth Reichl, on the other hand, is the bee's knees. I could read her writing any day and feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Of all her books, though, this one is the most difficult. Is it because of all the sex and affairs? Maybe a little. Is it because you start do think, "Do I really like Ruch Reichl as a human being?" Yup, that's probably part of it. But of course, I think this book is showing her at what might not have been the best part of her life, and seriously, don't we all have those times? I've made some horrible decisions at a few points and conducted myself in manners I don't wish to remember, so I can understand some of Ruth Reichl's indiscretions. However, the stuff with the back and forth between Doug and Michael... blargh! No matter how true it may be, I have a hard time reading about how Doug is the love of her life... no, wait, Michael is the love of her life... no, it's Doug who will always be there for her... no, Michael is the one who lights the spark inside her... no, she and Doug are true life partners! I felt like for a while every single chapter ended with some kind of "revelation" about her relationships, and after, say, the fifth one, I couldn't take it anymore.

But, all that crap aside, this was lovely. I adore the way she writes about food and people and places and the realness of her characters and life. I look forward to whatever comes next from her, and in the meantime I content myself with monthly issues of Gourmet and hearing her occasional appearances on WNYC.

Book Two: Pledged

2008-01-27T23:58:00.000-08:00

Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities, Alexandra Robbins

A book club read. I must say, reading this book just reminded me how much I hate sororities. I thought I could be fair minded, but I don't think I can be. And, as more than one book-clubber suggested, this book may have been entirely made up, but even so I wouldn't doubt that any of this shit doesn't take place on a daily basis across America in sorority after sorority. Seriously, this covers the gamut from date rape to binge drinking to cheating to hazing to dirty monkey sex (ok, no, not the last one). I do think that the author is really trying to be fair and attempting to show the nice side of sororities, but this thin, superficial shit doesn't really go that far. Seriously, can't a person make lifelong friends and find support in other places in college without joining a sorority? While I went to a school that was, in essence, one gigantic sorority, I had wonderful friends that I met in the dorms that I loved dearly and still attempt to stay in touch with and didn't feel the need to pledge my life to a house of women who could only put me down behind my back, call me fat, and make me feel bad for being date raped. But, again, I might not be the most un-opinionated person to ask about this book.

For a good time, might I suggest reading the customer comments on the book's Amazon page?

Book One: Scoop

2008-01-15T20:24:00.000-08:00

Scoop, Evelyn Waugh

It's back to the beginning for me! And I'm already one week behind for 2008. Woot!

So, I'm going to subtract the 1/2 from my 2007 total and start off with Scoop as my first read for 2008. We all know how much I adore Evelyn Waugh by now, and Scoop was no let down. The only problem is that when it takes me more than a couple of weeks to read a book, I kind of lose focus and I forget aspects of the plot. Which is why it took me a while to figure out that the wrong Boot got sent to Ishmaelia (fictional African country) to cover a pending revolution. But once I flipped back to the beginning, read through the first few pages and it all came back to me, I realized how funny it really is. Anyhow, it's silly satire of the British newspaper world, though not as funny, in my opinion, as Vile Bodies.