Moneybeets' Manuscript Manifestos; 2010 Reads

I wasn't involved in Club Read 2009, so I'm hoping to meet new people and have some fascinating discussions this year! Can't wait to get started.

If you're interested, here's what I read last year.

1. Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel (completed 1/06)
Unless you've been on the moon (with Steve) for the past few months, surely you're aware of 2009's Booker Prize-winning novel, Wolf Hall. It follows the sudden rise of Thomas Cromwell during Henry VIII's divorce and subsequent marriage to Anne Boleyn, and details his political successes and relationship with the king as well as his personal life. Cromwell is a necessary component of Tudor England, but is sadly neglected in novelizations of the period in favor or more romantic personages. Often he appears as a villain. By telling this familiar story from his perspective, Mantel is able to offer a fresh interpretation of characters rather than relying on tired stereotypes. This was my favorite aspect of the book, how a different narrator can offer completely new insights on a familiar story. Obviously Cromwell is portrayed as more of a can-do Everyman than a usurper of power, but in addition, Cardinal Wolsey, Mary Boleyn, and Jane Seymour are presented more sympathetically. Conversely, Thomas More is exposed as an uncompromising fanatic. Henry himself comes across as a robust, though aging, man sadly infatuated with an uncaring mistress. Are Mantel's interpretations any closer to the truth? Maybe not, but her well-rounded depictions of her characters make the old story more immediate.
My main problem with Wolf Hall is personal, in that I've simply read too much about Tudor England and the "King's Great Matter." Lots of material has been released, even within the past few years, about Henry and Anne, and there's not much more to be said about it. Many casual (and serious!) readers are captivated by stories of kings and queens, so I understand why people continue to write about and publish these things, but there are plenty of other juicy scandals involving old European royalty. *points at the Wittelsbachs* Why not leave Henry alone for a bit and mine some of the other material? Personally, I expect to be more engaged by Mantel's other effort, A Place of Greater Safety, when I pick it up. Her writing and characterization much improved a tired story, so I'm hoping that when she writes of a time and place about which I know less, the book will be that much more enjoyable.

Thanks for your thoughts on Wolf Hall. I succumbed to the hype & picked up Wolf Hall and A Place of Greater Safety in December. I'm not much on historical fiction & don't read a lot of history, either, so I figure I won't share your personal issue with Wolf Hall.

I don't read historical fiction either as a rule, but I was captivated both by Wolf Hall and A Place of Greater Safety, which in some ways I liked better than WH. While deeply historical, they transcend what I think of as historical fiction, although I may be misrepresenting it, by being truly about power and its uses and misuses, as well as human relationships. And I think what I like best about Mantel is her brilliance at characterization, and her amazing ability to say so much with so few words.

3-- If you don't read much historical fiction, I'm sure you would like Wolf Hall. Mantel, after all, does it extremely well--I've just overdosed on it a bit.

4-- That was what I loved about Mantel, too! She was able to bring her characters to life to such an extent that I was forced to reconsider my former impressions of them, especially Henry.

2. The Winter Queen, Boris Akunin (completed 1/11)

At the beginning of last year I went on a two-month mystery jag (or thereabouts.) I read other things too, but the most exciting and rewarding books of winter '09, for me, were the mysteries. And now the season compels me to return to the genre! So, I picked up The Winter Queen at a Half-Price Books while visiting my boyfriend (if I go to live with him next semester, the bookstore's proximity to his apartment will be highly dangerous!) I hadn't read any of the Fandorin series before, but it was only four dollars, so why not? LT reviews had convinced me that the introductory book would be worth my while, if not terribly sophisticated in plot or characterization. I'm inclined to agree; it was an engaging, quick read, good to curl up with while it snowed outside. I liked the main character, Erast Fandorin; I was quite surprised that he turned out to be a young, inexperienced public servant rather than the grizzled veteran one might expect in a Russian mystery novel. Although intelligent and intuitive, Fandorin is still young and naive enough to make all manner of foibles. To me, also quite young and naive :), he was much more likable than other famous detectives I've read about, such as Fossum's Inspector Sejer. If I can pick up Akunin's other books cheap (or free, at the library,) I'd be happy to follow a few more of Fandorin's adventures. However, I wouldn't spend a great deal of money on them; I predicted the big twist fairly early on, and the supporting characters were not distinguishable enough from one another (might be the unfamiliar Russian names.) Still, a fun read, and just what I was looking for at the time.

3. Shadow Family, Miyuki Miyabe (completed 1/11)
My second foray into the mystery genre. :) Last year I read Miyabe's most notable and well-known work, All She Was Worth, and really enjoyed it, so I was hoping Shadow Family would be just as good, despite its somewhat hokey premise. After a businessman and his former mistress are murdered, police suspect a student known to be rivals with the young woman, Naoko. But when details of the man's involvement with an "online family" surface, our investigators begin to deduce that the real murderer is someone much closer to him. The internet subplot troubled me--Shadow Family was written over ten years ago, and computer stuff never ages well. Some of the dialogue sounds laughable, though that could be a fault of the translation. Even allowing for that, the idea of an "internet family" just isn't realistic. Sure, people form relationships online, but generally of a romantic sort, or just close friendships. Usually they don't build strong father/daughter ties, like the characters here are trying to do. I found it hard to suspend disbelief.
What I like about Miyabe's writing, though, is her refusal to provide tidy endings or straightforward motives. As I said about All She Was Worth, the moral questions raised in the novel keep you thinking and questioning long after the main mystery is solved. When does a family cease to be a family? Is it weird to seek personal fulfillment from someone you can't physically be with? Is an online relationship as meaningful as a traditional one? These questions are possibly even more relevant today than when the novel was released, although the lingo is dated. Miyabe's strength is in realistically portraying the ambivalence and personality conflicts of real people, and less in crafting an airtight plot. If I get a hankering to read Japanese detective fiction again, I think I might just re-read All She Was Worth rather than attempt one of her other efforts.

4. Faceless Killers, Henning Mankell (completed 1/13)
The mystery spree continues. I promise after this, I'll read something serious and literary :) Although the Wallander series is quite appealing and I will likely return to it soon. Anyway, this novel was much grittier and therefore more to my liking than Shadow Family or The Winter Queen. Although I still think I like Fandorin better (as a character) than the grumpy Wallander, the crime and investigation in this book were much more interesting. I like police procedurals better than "some nosy woman miraculously solves a murder while enduring romantic strife and eating cream puffs" -type cozy mysteries because a) they're (somewhat) more realistic, and b) they're usually much better at hiding the denouement from us. The reader, like the detective, is given enough information to solve the problem, but it's compounded by enough useless or dead-end leads that you might not put it all together. I don't want to guess the solution ahead of the detective, which is the problem I had with The Winter Queen. So in that sense, Faceless Killers was much better--I didn't want to put it down, and I puzzled over the mystery in my head while I wasn't reading. I was mildly annoyed by Wallander at first--of course he's divorced and on shaky terms with his children, and of course he has a drinking problem. But it wasn't a big enough turn-off for me to stop reading, and I suppose many real-life detectives do have those problems. Hazard of the trade, I guess. The wrap-up of the case happened a little too quickly and with too little explanation, I felt. But this is Mankell's first book, right? Perhaps that will improve in later installments of the series. I intend to find out, after a bit of more serious reading.

5. The Makioka Sisters, Junichiro Tanizaki (completed 1/17)
I love family sagas. I don't know what it is about them--it's not like my own family's story is particularly eventful--but novels with rich, compelling portrayals of domestic decline get to me. Maybe it's because I'm a sucker for good characterization, and this type of story tends to promote several equally well-developed main characters? Whatever it is, I developed a hankering for The Makioka Sisters, a Japanese take on the family saga. It was something of a departure from others I've read, though, in that Tanizaki's book focuses very heavily on the search for Yukiko's husband rather than stretching the story out over several lifetimes a la One Hundred Years of Solitude. The book ends on her wedding day, and seems to close a chapter in the family's life even though the other three sisters' stories are unresolved. Yukiko is clearly the character around whom the story revolves, although she is often absent for several chapters at a time and the story is told from her sister Sachiko's point of view. Unfortunately, Yukiko is also the least likable and vibrant of all the characters. Tanizaki, then, must focus on her for reasons other than entertainment. Her marriage prospects clearly illustrate the family's waning social privileges. The book jacket describes it as something like, "trying to hold onto a world that is quickly slipping away," or something like that. Old-fashioned Yukiko is the embodiment of the old Osaka. The family would've done better to allow the ultra-modern Taeko to follow her own path, but her preferred marriage and lifestyle had to be delayed until the old-world Yukiko was safely ushered from the home. By clinging to tradition, the Makiokas only ensured further shame for themselves.
Tanizaki's style of storytelling is straightforward and without frills, but he still manages to subtle emotional nuances. The Makioka Sisters wasn't riveting, like I'd gotten used to from my earlier mystery books this year :), but was a quietly effective tale that sticks with me even now. I needed some time to sort out my thoughts about it. I suppose it's no wonder Tanizaki's name was given to a prestigious Japanese literary prize. I'd really like to read some more of his work, but he seems fairly unappreciated in the United States--my library doesn't have anything by him. Oh, ILL, my fair-weather friend... it seems I must make use of you again.

6. World War Z, Max Brooks (completed 1/22)
I like zombie movies well enough (especially Dawn of the Dead--the original, please!,) but I've never really wanted to read about them, although the literary undead did improve in my estimation when they started massacring Jane Austen characters. However, a professor whose opinion I really respect recommended this book as "post-semester homework" (along with A Canticle for Leibowitz, for which I'm still on the library's waiting list.) I had him for a medieval history class focusing heavily on themes of crisis, and although World War Z is set in the near future, he noted that its depiction of human reactions to crisis corresponds neatly to survivor accounts of centuries-old disasters. And indeed, the "zombification" of much of the world's population is presented as an unexplained plague that nevertheless is transmitted in much the same way as any other illness. Max Brooks obviously spent a lot of time working out his symptomology before writing. The interview-style reporting also gives us a clear picture of the zombies' impact on very different types of people and regions. And personally, I enjoyed trying to decipher his references to the real-world people he obviously used as a template for minor characters--thought I spotted Ann Coulter in there. :)
As a side note, several people caught me reading this at work and positively gushed about it. Now I'm pushing it on all of my friends, too...

7. Dogs of Riga, Henning Mankell (completed 1/24)
After two "real" books I feel less bad about diving into another police procedural. The Dogs of Riga is the second of Mankell's Wallander series and, I felt, not as strong as the first. Although it retained several of the qualities I liked about Faceless Killers, Wallander doesn't quite feel at home in the Latvian setting. I was also slightly turned off by Wallander's seeming dismissal of his love interest in the first book in favor of Baiba--I think Annette is mentioned just once. I loathe when a series introduces a new love interest/femme fatale in each book. It's simply unrealistic and reminds me too much of James Bond. (Although, other Wallander books eventually proved me wrong on this--he's definitely hung up on Baiba.) Even setting personal preferences aside, Dogs of Riga is fairly good but isn't totally in keeping with the mood established in Faceless Killers. It relied more heavily on cliched plot elements like kidnapping and secret messages. I don't want to overstate my case here--the second installment was still very enjoyable--but I hope the later books return to the spirit of the first.

7 1/2. The White Lioness, Henning Mankell (abandoned 1/26)
The White Lioness took everything I had a problem with in Dogs of Riga and turned it up to eleven. Foreign setting that has nothing to do with Wallander? Tired, sensational plot elements? Check and check. It further annoyed me by assigning pivotal roles to actual people who are still living (Mandela and de Klerk.) Maybe it's just me, but I find it distasteful to warp a living person's identity to fit into your fictional story. If the person is long dead it doesn't bother me, I love historical fiction, but de Klerk and Mandela were still kickin' when this was published. (And still are... right?) It's disrespectful. If you were de Klerk and picked up some light reading, I think you'd be quite surprised to read a chapter ostensibly from your point of view, and very possibly offended. I know both of those men have more important things to do than worry about their portrayal in Swedish detective novels, but really. Just save it.
That aside, I was really thrown off when Mankell switched narrators. I like Wallander and wanted to investigate the crime with him, not follow some minor characters around South Africa. About three quarters of the way through, I abandoned The White Lioness because of the ever-multiplying issues I had with it (oddly enough, right before the section titled "The White Lioness.") Still, I plowed ahead with the series and was pleasantly rewarded with the next book, The Man Who Smiled.

8. The Man Who Smiled, Henning Mankell (completed 1/27)
Since I've been reading a lot of Mankell lately, I'll spare you a detailed synopsis. Suffice to say I enjoyed this much more than The White Lioness and had my fears about the future of the series assuaged. As I read on, too, I find my initial problems with Wallander's character melting away. Unlike so many other main characters in long-running series who just won't learn, Wallander is actively trying to improve himself. I was pleased to see him re-connecting with his daughter and working on his relationship with Baiba in this book. I've developed a strong liking for him after all.

9. The Shadow of the Wind, Carlos Ruiz Zafón (completed 2/01)
A beautifully written, if occasionally melodramatic, gothic-style mystery set in Franco's Barcelona. After reading so many books in Mankell's entertaining but simple style, The Shadow of the Wind was absolutely mesmerizing, and I think the nudge I needed to return to less fluffy literature. Zafón takes a somewhat hokey, romantic mystery and tells it in a very sophisticated way. Believe me, it is hard to get me into any sort of love story, but he succeeds. I think because the story is as much about Daniel's love of literature as it is his affair with Bea, or Julian and Penelope's ill-omened romance. The Shadow of the Wind is by turns sentimental, spooky, hopeful, and startlingly funny. Several passages--usually by Daniel's irrepressible friend Fermin--had me truly laughing out loud. Earned me a few odd looks at work :) Seriously though, I can't find words to describe how much I loved this book. I strongly urge you to read it too, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

10. Sidetracked, Henning Mankell (completed 2/02)
Zzzz, another Wallander mystery? Yes, well, I think I'll take a break for a bit after this one, although ultimately I'd like to finish the series. With this, like The Man Who Smiled, Mankell sticks to what makes the series great without getting sidetracked into Eastern European or South African rabbit holes (pun proudly intended.) Still glad that Wallander is whipping himself back into shape after the depression that marked books 1-3, and am really coming to like Höglund's character too.

10 1/2. He Who Fears the Wolf, Karin Fossum (abandoned 2/03)
Gave Inspector Sejer another chance. Still don't like him. I think this marks the end of the Great Mystery Bender of 2010.

Hi moneybeets - I've avoided Wolf Hall for the total opposite reason - I know almost nothing about Cromwell. How come so many Americans do? I ask that because my plea is that I'm aussie and thus know to death all about bushrangers and the First Fleet and the gold rush etc etczzz... but the kings and queens of England? Nope. So I haven't read it because I thought I wouldn't know enough background for it to make sense. Would you say that would matter in my circumstance?

I also loved The Shadow of the Wind. Not much depth, but heaps of atmosphere.

moneybeets - Add me to the list of lovers of The Shadow of the Wind. It's amazing how Zafon draws you in. I read it while I was out of town at a business conference, and there were times when I didn't want to leave the hotel room - and put the book down - to attend meetings.

11. Sea of Poppies, Amitav Ghosh (completed 2/18)

One of my reading goals for this year is to explore more Indian literature. (The other is to bone up on German & Polish history, but that's not coming along so well.) I was a little skeptical that this would qualify, because it's about the Opium Wars, but most of the characters are Indian and the majority of the story so far is set there, so...
Sea of Poppies has the sprawling cast typical of Indian novels, but ultimately sends them on a nautical adventure instead of keeping them in an urban setting. However, most of Sea of Poppies is spent bringing together the cast from vastly different locations. At times, the circumstances that bring the characters together seem a little too fortuitous, if you know what I mean. Apparently everyone in India knows each other, despite the billions that live there... but most of the main characters have interesting enough stories that I was willing to overlook that. I felt the personalities were authentic, even if some of the plot points were contrived. I look forward to reading about these now-familiar characters in the next two proposed installments, once Ghosh is finished writing them. (I could stand to see Zachary and Paulette's romance fizzle out, though--zzzz...)

Been away from LT for a bit, sorry for neglecting my comments!

ChocolateMuse--I wouldn't say Americans know much about Cromwell, either. Most would be familiar with Henry VIII and Anne, and possibly Mary Boleyn, but I think that's due more to the recent popularity of Tudor-era entertainment than anything else (The Other Boleyn Girl and The Tudors TV series on Showtime.) We didn't learn much about British politics in school, at least I didn't. As for whether or not it will impact your enjoyment of the story, I'd almost say you're better off not knowing anything about Cromwell. He's portrayed very differently in Wolf Hall than in anything else I've read about him.

Talbin, I read most of The Shadow of the Wind at work, and it had the same effect on me. Customers would try to strike up conversations with me, which normally is nice, but that day I just wanted them to get out so I could finish my book!

The Mankell books are addictive. Despite that, I also abandoned The White Lioness partway through.

The Angel's Game is excellent, if you ever feel a need for more of the cemetery of forgotten books.

#19 "the circumstances that bring the characters together seem a little too fortuitous, if you know what I mean. "

I know exactly what you mean, and it got to me too. Still, a fun book.

>21 RidgewayGirl:,

I recently finished my first Mankell novel The Man from Beijing. I was pleasantly surprised. Normally, I would not chose this kind of book to read.

21-- Thanks for the rec, I didn't realize Angel's Game was related to Shadow of the Wind.

23-- I remember hearing about The Man from Beijing because it was released just recently, but I haven't read that one yet. Is it part of the Wallander series, or unrelated?

12. The Enemy Within, John Demos (completed 3/01)
Apparently there is a book with this same title written by L. Ron Hubbard?! D: Rest assured I have no interest in that one. I chose The Enemy Within because I was seized with a sudden urge to read about the Salem Witch Trials. I think it's the commercials for that ridiculous celebrity genealogy show which have been airing recently that did it. Demos' book gives a short overview of witchcraft in European history, before delving into the Salem trials and their place in early America. This approach let him focus heavily on the social and political climate that allowed the Salem trials to flourish, although I found it a bit lacking when it came to describing how the events actually progressed. I was looking for a more thorough, detailed account, not a sociological explanation. That's my own issue though, not the book's. (I suppose if I had paid more attention to the actual title, I might've noticed the book purports to be about witch-hunting.) So, Demos' book is fine, if not exactly what I was looking for. However, the last section (of three) seems really out-of-place. It tries to compare early-modern witch-hunting to modern instances of community paranoia and mostly fails. There may be some similarities, but I don't think one can usefully compare the Salem trials to the suppression of labor unions. The one sensible parallel he noted was to McCarthyism, yet the section is under-developed. And judging by the other works in his catalog, all of his comparisons are outside his normal field. I wonder why he chose to include the latter part at all, because the book really seems stronger without it.

Man, you sound like you really troopered through those Wallander mystery books. You don't sound as though you enjoyed those very much, haha. I agree with you about authors using real, living people in their books. It creeps me out a bit and is rarely done well.

Also, I laughed at "some nosy woman miraculously solves a murder while enduring romantic strife and eating cream puffs". There are so many of those books! So many!

Ugh, I know! Anything that mentions cream puffs is not for me--unless it's a recipe.

I actually (mostly) enjoyed the Wallander books, but the first installment was my favorite and Mankell never quite recaptured the spirit of it. And they did get a bit repetitive, reading so many in a row. I suspect if I return to the series, I might enjoy it more after something a bit heavier.

I did just the same with Mankell - I liked my first Wallander so much that I read several more in quick succession instead of spreading them out. There are still some I haven't read, but I'm staying away for a while longer! Like you, I was very disappointed by a non-Wallander Mankell, in my case Kennedy's Brain; I know he feels very strongly about Africa and does a lot of work in Mozambique in particular, but I felt I was being lectured from a soap-box rather than reading a novel.

I've just discovered your thread and have enjoyed reading your comments - I'll be back!

13. The Man in the High Castle, Philip K. Dick (completed 3/08)
It's a shame Dick had such an intriguing idea and chose to write the book he did. There is a multitude of possible stories to explore in the alternate universe he created, where Germany and Japan were victorious in WWII, but the characters he chooses to follow are a jewelry designer, a minor Japanese official, and a judo instructor. Not that government employees or artisans are necessarily uninteresting, but honestly, I have no idea what Dick was trying to do with their stories. He's included all the elements of what could be a true page-turner, but drops every plot point in favor of sales trips, tangents about pre-war memorabilia, and endless consultations of the I Ching. The book includes a new administration in Germany, a plot to nuke Japan, moon colonization, murders, tawdry affairs, treachery in the German government, and a Jewish-American trying to escape detection and execution. That almost sounds like too many plot points for one (fairly slim) novel, but the characters act them out in such an extraordinarily boring way that it feels like nothing happens at all. He seems, instead, to be scrupulously avoiding many of the issues he brings up. Dick's writing style is listless and spare, so much so that I often had trouble telling characters apart because their "voices" were so similar. This was a great idea for an alternate history, and I'm extremely disappointed at how poor the result was.

14. The Train Was On Time, Heinrich Böll (completed 3/21)
March was Read a Novella Month, giving me a perfect excuse to open my copy of Stories of Heinrich Böll. (That thing is big, I'll have to tackle it one story at a time if I ever want to get it read!) I liked the dispassionate style Böll used in The Lost Honor of Katharina Blum, because it made such a nice contrast with the controversial subject matter, and I expected applying it to a WWII story would also be effective. Böll does employ a similar style in the beginning of the novella. His main character, certain of his own impending death, reports on the dramas surrounding him, but can't motivate himself to fix his own problems. Ultimately he finds reasons to escape war and keep living, but ironically, his agency leads directly to the death he was trying to avoid. Both The Train Was On Time and Katharina Blum comment on the futility of trying to manage one's own destiny. I wonder if this pessimism is indicative of all of Böll's works, or if it's just a coincidence.

15. The Coffee Trader, David Liss (completed 3/21)
I love coffee, and I heard good things about Liss, and the book was cheap! The $2 I spent was a good investment :D The Coffee Trader was both a fast, fun read and a really unique historical novel. Too often historical fiction focuses on court intrigue and impossible romances. Though there was a love story, I liked that Liss respected the cultural background of the characters and let them act it out in a correspondingly restrained way (...for most of the book.) I'm very picky about how romance is handled in my books, and was satisfied by this treatment because the love story was sufficiently important to the plot. I suspect Liss made the Dutch trading network appear more intriguing than it actually was, but that's a minor flaw. What I really had a problem with was the ending. Everything is wrapped up too neatly and quickly, with all the inconvenient characters suddenly leaving town. (Even the ones who had legitimate legal complaints with main character Miguel.) Also baffling was the fate of Miguel's arch-nemesis, who, as it turns out, was only trying to work out their differences! Liss created 3/4 of a fun, fresh historical novel and ruined it with a beard-rubbingly awful conclusion.

>24 moneybeets:,

No, The Man from Beijing is not part of the Wallander novels.

16. The Red and the Black, Stendhal (completed 4/14)

Hrrrm... I can't help but compare this to the infinitely superior Dangerous Liaisons*. Similar themes, setting, and conclusion, but without any sympathetic characters. (I mean, it's fine to have anti-heroes and all, but I really don't think that was Stendhal's intention.) Julien, basically, is a giant douchebag who doesn't care about the impact of his actions on the people who love him. His drive to succeed blinds him to every other aspect of life. So in that way, I suppose he's very much like his hero Napoleon. Ugh. I did, however, like reading about him trying to seduce Mathilde and Madame de Rênal and all the trickery that went into it. It's funny how little has changed about relationships :)

*Is this the accepted English translation of the title, or am I confusing it with the derivative Reese Witherspoon movie? I've seen it written both like this and with the original French title.

17. The Lace Reader, Brunonia Barry (completed 4/18)
Oh, god, I'm a terrible reviewer. *sigh* But The Lace Reader has been discussed by so many others on LT recently that I can't bring myself to feel too bad about it. Personally I found it a gripping read, but it didn't stand up to scrutiny after I was finished. There were just too many niggling contradictions in Towner's story, despite revelations at the end of the book which (I assume) were supposed to clear everything up. I was genuinely confused about many of the relationships, for example, and the timeline. Was shock therapy actually still used in the 70's, outside of Richard O'Brian features? Much confusion and frustration with not-so-plausible plot elements for me. But the atmosphere was great, I'd probably read it again for that reason.
A small nitpick, though--one of the dogs is just such an intelligent, majestic beast that she goes on and on about it in a scene that has nothing to do with animals. Like, its presence in the scene is limited to "the dog walked up and sat with Towner," or something. Then I read the "about the author" on the back flap and, surprise! it's named after her own dog. What is that? Is she giving her pet a shout-out? It's not like it's going to know *scratches head*

18. In Other Rooms, Other Wonders, Daniyal Mueenuddin (completed 6/3)
The first of Mueenuddin's short stories in this collection, "Nawabdin Electrician," is also included in this year's edition of Best American Short Stories, so I had read it before. I quite liked it, and that's part of what prompted me to buy this short volume. Also, I had never read anything by a Pakistani author. I was right in expecting I would like Mueenuddin's writing, and several of the other installments lived up to or surpassed the standard set by "Electrician." I particularly enjoyed the story about the wild young cook's apprentice who falls in love with a restrained older co-worker, only to have her happiness stifled by traditions still very much a part of that world. I could have done with fewer stories about mistresses, but overall it was a insightful and surprising look into a culture I was unfamiliar with. Particularly in the last section, the heroine's concerns and feelings were not so very different from my own, which is always an encouraging thought, I think.

19. The Little Friend, Donna Tartt (completed 6/5) and
22. I'm Not Scared, Niccolo Ammaniti (completed 6/26)
I decided to review these two books together because they're very similar in theme and I read them within a few weeks of each other. It's funny how that happens sometimes, I wasn't particularly seeking coming-of-age novels set in very hot summers in which young children get injured, but here we are. Set in 1960's Mississippi and 1970's southern Italy, respectively, both books concern pre-teens trying to uncover the truth about nasty community secrets and getting in way over their heads. Neither protagonist (Harriet and Michele, respectively) feels they can share their concerns with their parents, which leaves them helpless when confronted with decidedly adult violence. Tartt and Ammaniti both covered this theme with equal punch, I felt, though the way in which they did so was quite different. Tartt prefers to showcase her intelligence, bulking up the book with long descriptive passages full of four-syllable words and digressions on the side effects of meth use. I don't really need to know about meth, I think, but her unusual descriptive style was not unpleasant. The introductory chapter of The Little Friend is one of my favorite I've ever read. I love the way she captures the mood of a certain place and time, and her characterizations. (Harriett's aunts, especially, were spot-on.)
Ammaniti, on the other hand, only gives us enough description to understand what's happening. He's more sparse on details. Although it doesn't evoke place as lushly as Tartt's writing, I felt it was a more authentically childlike approach. (It's told from Michele's perspective, so a more sophisticated voice would be out of place.) Despite this, I felt he conveyed the confusing adolescent feelings of his protagonist just as well as Tartt. I don't think either book is necessarily better; it just depends on what style of writing you enjoy. Myself, I loved them both, and was quite fortunate to luck into reading them together.

Recently abandoned:

House of Leaves, Mark Z. Danielewski - My second attempt at this one, I got much further than the first time but this was largely due to a power outage which left me with nothing else to do for several hours. I was engrossed in the sections about the Navidson house, but the secondary story told through footnotes was completely unnecessary. I could not care any less about the narrator's one-night stands with a host of interchangeable women, or his job at the tattoo parlor. Zzzz... I do want to finish this someday (it was expensive :p,) but if I do I'll follow another reader's recommendation to stick to the Navidson Record and eliminate the tedious footnotes.

For the Thrill of It: Leopold, Loeb, and the Murder That Shocked Chicago, Simon Baatz - An sensational murder case (first brought to my attention by a favorite professor) described in a dull and disinterested way. Might just find a different book on the subject, I'm sure there are many.

The Bridge on the Drina, Ivo Andrić - I wanted so much to enjoy this, Andrić being a Nobel Prize-winning author, after all. I can see why it is an Important Work of Literature, but it just didn't speak to me. I generally like novels whose stories unfold over many years (100 Years of Solitude, for example, or Buddenbrooks) but there was no common thread besides setting, and we weren't given enough time with any character to get attached. Perhaps the bridge itself is a character, but pssh! what an unsympathetic hero, so inflexible and featureless :)

May's reading picks were an unfortunate bunch. :( I did get quite a bit of reading done, but all of it was devoted to abandoned books and then to comforting re-reads of crime novels.

Hi Moneybeets,

Re: Leopold and Loeb, you might try Meyer Levin's Compulsion, which is a fictionalized treatment of the event. I read it years ago, but as I remember, it was quite well done.

BTW, What did think of Tartt's The Little Friend?

37 - I really enjoyed House of Leaves, though I can see where the narrator is a difficult one at the beginning. I will say he becomes much more interesting as the story progresses.

20. Cloud of Sparrows, Takashi Matsuoka (completed 6/9) and
21. Autumn Bridge, Takashi Matsuoka (completed sometime)
A two-part treatment of the modernization of Japan. Set (mostly) in the 1860's, Commodore Perry's visit is recent enough that some Japanese still think a return to the old way of life is possible. Forward-thinking Prince Genji, however, embraces modernization and wants to convince his samurai brethren to accept change. When three American missionaries arrive, matters only become more complicated--particularly because two of them are harboring agendas of their own.
Matsuoka's books are competent page-turners, however, they suffer from anachronistic characters and contrived plots. I don't want to spoil, but I will say many romantic alliances are completely unbelievable for the time and place. If you like samurai or old Japan, it's worth a read--just don't expect a historically accurate story.

38-- Thanks for the rec, a lot of my problem with Baatz's book was that he devoted so many pages to Clarence Darrow and his many projects, and court cases that were not even really similar to Leopold/Loeb's. I lost interest when it became clear he would include every bit of research he did. A lot of it could have been cut out, it's not relevant or even very interesting.
A review of Tartt's book--and others :)--is forthcoming, just haven't gotten to it yet.

39-- That's reassuring, I really couldn't stand the guy! Any new development would be an improvement.

22. I'm Not Scared, Niccolo Ammaniti (completed 6/26)
Review covered above with The Little Friend, in message 36.

23. English: A Novel, Wang Gang (completed 6/29)
What is it about Chinese writing that just doesn't captivate me? Not that I have a large sample size, just this and Feathered Serpent and A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers. All decent enough to finish, and all prize-winners (of some description,) but I didn't really like any of them. Like my two earlier attempts, English: A Novel was very... distanced. The main character, Love Liu, just didn't interest me. The story, about the coming-of-age of a young intellectual, is the sort of thing I usually like, but... meh. I suppose the aspect I liked best was its setting in the Cultural Revolution, a time and place I haven't read about before. I'm sure there are plenty of illuminating--and readable--books on the topic, but this wasn't one. Can anyone recommend a great Chinese author? Maybe it's just modern Chinese literature I don't care for, and I should read something more old-fashioned instead.

24. The Likeness, Tana French (re-read 7/1) and
25. In the Woods, Tana French (re-read 7/9)
Re-reads of two books I loved last year, in preparation for the release of French's third book, Faithful Place. Reviews of both can be found in last year's thread.

26. Dark Places, Gillian Flynn (completed 7/8)
Excited for the release of Faithful Place, I tried to tide myself over with something in the same vein, and had heard good things about Flynn. Although I rushed right through it, I'm glad I didn't pay more than $4 for it. The crime in this book was well-described and had an interesting enough solution, but I really did not care for the narrator. Just wanted to smack her.

27. Faithful Place, Tana French (completed 7/15)
One of the things I miss most in the post-Deathly Hallows reading scene is the speculation. Yes, I was one of the obsessed fans who spent hours reading fan articles and discussing minor characters' backgrounds on the internet. It was a fun exercise to pick through all the loose ends in previous books and weave them together to create your own vision of the next installment. And you knew that no matter how much speculating you did, you would still be surprised and entertained by the sequel.
Personally, I don't like stories where the characters' stories are neatly sewn together at the conclusion and there are no questions. To continue with the Harry Potter example, there is still a huge hole in the story--the time between the defeat of Voldemort and the epilogue. We as readers can fill in the gaps with whatever we want. French's books, however, introduces these holes with every installment. In the next book, she will give us a new narrator (a minor character from the one before) and leave us few or no clues about what happened in between. When we turn the last page and set her book down, we will wonder not only about what the sequel holds, but about what comes next for the characters we came to know so well. This is one of the reasons for her popularity, I think.
At the end of The Likeness, Cassie and Sam reconciled and got engaged. I expected the narrator of book 3 would be Sam (wishful thinking perhaps, I liked Cassie a lot and thought we would hear more about her.) Surprise number one was my realization that Frank Mackey, Cassie's old boss, would be the star. Not only is Frank of a different generation than Rob (In the Woods) and Cassie, he comes from a very different background, a background that is as much the star of the book as Frank himself. As a child he lived in Faithful Place, a derelict Dublin neighborhood, with his four siblings, disapproving mother, and alcoholic father. He dreamed only of leaving and settling down with his sweetheart, Rosie. Twenty years before Faithful Place, he did escape and has had very little contact with his family since, a decision he stands behind. Only occasionally does he wonder what became of Rosie, and why she failed to meet him the night they were to disappear...
Frank is an older narrator, with one marriage already behind him and a young daughter to raise. Consequently, the theme here is family, not growing up (Rob) or identity (Cassie.) It was slightly harder for me to relate, since I'm young, single, and childless, but it was a nice change. It made the series a little less about police work. (Although Frank is technically still investigating a murder, most of the book takes place off the clock.) Faithful Place also explores how we deal with the past and the circumstances of our birth, a theme absent from book 1 and treated more lightly in book 2. Definitely a more mature work, in theme if not writing prowess. (French does evoke Dublin in the 80's very well.) For me, it was not her strongest book, but still better than most of the stuff I've read this year. I can't wait for book 4. Will the narrator be the inexperienced but sharp young policeman Frank blackmails into helping him, or his rival officer in charge of investigating Rosie's murder? Will he get back together with Olivia's mother? What happens to his brother Seamus? We probably won't get any answers, but half the fun is imagining what could have happened.

I'm waiting to see what you thought of Faithful Place. I have my copy and I'm trying desperately not to jump right in.

28. The News from Paraguay, Lily Tuck (completed 7/20)
After a book I anticipated so much, this was a real let-down. I probably would not have finished it if I had other books to choose from (I was on a trip when I started reading it.) Ostensibly about López's presidency and the War of the Triple Alliance, the book follows the president's mistress who had very little to do with politics (at least in this book.) Now, if I want to read about politics, I'd prefer to follow the major players, not their girlfriends. This doesn't even count for my Reading Globally challenge because author Lily Tuck is not Paraguayan. Very disappointing.

29. Barrow's Boys, Fergus Fleming (completed 7/28)
Arctic exploration is one of my favorite subjects, and while I've read several books both fiction and non-fiction on the topic, I had never seen it paired with African expeditions that were happening around the same time. Fleming manages to combine the two under the umbrella of John Barrow, who was Second Secretary to the Admiralty in Britain for many years and organized several explorations of "exotic" locales. The African and Arctic expeditions were planned quite similarly and thus were both doomed to fail for the same reasons. The success of a journey was attributed more to luck, personal perseverance, and weather than exhaustive planning or funding. It seems clear in all cases that Ross, Franklin, and their ilk would have been better served to adopt the diet, clothing, and transportation of the native people, but attitudes being what they were at the time, very few recognized the importance of doing so. Although the climates of north Canada and the Sahara require different approaches, the reports all reveal a lack of preparedness on the part of the explorers and a lack of foresight from the naval office. Despite the hamfistedness of the admiralty and Barrow's own unpleasant personality, Fleming nevertheless promotes the idea that Barrow's voyages were important to British national identity and the subsequent settlement of the newly-discovered areas. This was a well-researched but still incredibly entertaining tale of the search for the Northwest Passage and Timbuktu.

30. The Tenderness of Wolves, Stef Penney (completed 8/8)
I noticed I've been neglecting the Reading Globally monthly reads this year, so I reluctantly embarked on August's theme read, Nature/Living close to the land. To me, this can only mean American Indians. (Sad but true.) I always hated learning about Native Americans in school, because inevitably all the information was about boring (and possibly erroneous) stuff like religious rituals and living economically off the land, rather than the nasty things like war or political intrigue that make history so interesting. I expected the same tone from literature about, say, Aborigines, or the Ainu. Now, this type of treatment bothers me because Native Americans (and all indigenous people, anywhere) are just as human as the rest of us. They murdered people, had affairs, were lazy and uninspired, just like any other group of people in history. Medieval Europeans in literature have motives and feelings identical to those of modern people, but First Peoples of the same time period are too often treated as wise and incorruptible, a separate population removed from the problems that bother the rest of us, and that's an anachronism I just can't stomach. But I digress.
Anyway! I chose for this theme a book about Canadians, a group of people who have never inspired any particular ire in me. (What can I say, I like reading about cold places.) The story revolves around a mysterious murder and the search for its perpetrator, but that element often recedes into the background in favor of plot threads about love, community, and difference. The mystery is not particularly hard to solve, and we know right away who we are supposed to love and hate, but there are a few unexpected twists. I was pleasantly surprised that not all of the characters were given a happy ending, and faced new issues after the book ended. Penney also tied the setting inextricably into the story, as it probably could not have taken place in a warmer area. Not a yearly favorite, but better than I expected, and it did successfully distract me from my boyfriend's relatives. :)

31. The Lake of Dead Languages, Carol Goodman (completed 8/19)
I suppose everyone has an odd little niche genre that they love. For me, I like long and expository mysteries set in boarding schools, wherein the narrator has to keep a secret about another student dying tragically. Pretty specific, but a lot of my favorite books do follow this pattern--The Likeness, The Secret History, even Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix sort of qualifies. And that short description tells you everything you need to know about The Lake of Dead Languages. I knew that because of the setting and atmosphere I would probably get lost in the story, even if the writing wasn't up to par. (Goodman's writing is fine, though.) I wasn't disappointed. Very atmospheric and creepy, not a fantastic book but good enough for me. Oh, and if you know of any other book that might fit this description, please comment and let me know!

32. Cold Earth, Sarah Moss (completed 9/1)
A team of diverse archaeology students set up in Greenland for a summer to study the fragments of an old civilization. Tempers flare, of course, and all of the students bring their own troubled histories with them, but they manage, knowing they'll never have to see each other again after the expedition. Their only connection to the rest of the world is the Internet, and from there they receive vague reports of an epidemic spreading across North America and Europe. Eventually reports cease altogether, and it seems increasingly unlikely that anyone will remember to pick them up at the end of summer. Meanwhile, one of their number slowly loses her sanity.
An interesting little book. The archaeology was not at the forefront, instead it was a postulation about the affects of fear on an isolated community. They're scared for their loved ones who might be sick, and scared that they'll be stuck in Greenland for a winter they're entirely unprepared for. When Nina begins hearing things in the night, it brings a more visceral level of fear--if she is truly insane, what could they possibly do with her? There's nowhere to take her where she'd be safe--she could hurt not only herself, but everyone else in camp. And what if the ghoulish apparitions she's hearing are real?
My problems with Cold Earth are political. Nina--who gets more narrative pages than anyone else--is an incredibly rude, judgmental bitch. She is also loudly anti-American, as many "intelligent" people are now. Now, as an American who is not a jackass, I take offense. Many of the problems she articulates with the United States could easily be applied to Britain, or France, or any other first-world country. Personally I just think she likes to complain, and the US is the fashionable target. Meanwhile, she has no problem being an English grad student living off her boyfriend's money, i.e., a complete parasite. (No offense to grad students, I'm one myself.) Yeah, well, it's really easy to sing the praises of organic food when you have money out the ass. If you're struggling to afford food at all, not so much. Most of her lifestyle would be impossible if she didn't have the incredible luck to be smart, white, and well-off. If her viewpoint were tempered somewhat by the other characters', I would not be so incensed, but the two members of the crew who are from the US are a yokel and a vain, commercial girly-girl. Also, the facts about Sarah Moss on the book jacket make it quite clear that Nina is basically a self-insert. Moss is a talented writer but I can't abide her judgmental nature and need to broadcast it through her narrators.

33. Wife of the Gods, Kwei Quartey (completed 9/3)
A police procedural from Ghana! (I do love police procedurals.) The first novel of a practicing physician, Wife of the Gods concerns the murder of a young med student in a rural town. At first it is thought to be a lover's quarrel, but Inspector Dawson theorizes that the girl's death is a result of her work as a local activist. Coincidentally, the girl was found in the same community where Dawson's mother went missing many years ago.
It was a pretty standard detective novel, for me, and Quartey's writing is competent but nothing special. What I liked was seeing Dawson work with the limitations of his department. The resentment of rural police departments for those of the city are standard, but here the problem is compounded by the many dialects spoken in Ghana. City policemen would face a real disadvantage in the country, because they can't talk to witnesses or suspects. (The language issue is the reason Dawson was initially asked to work the case.) Ghana's government is apparently lax in issuing weapons to its officers, although I don't know if that's due to a lack of funds, a mere oversight, or an official decision. Rather than a gun or taser, Dawson carries a cricket bat. He's resourceful, which I think is a neglected quality in the policemen of my community... (Sorry, I've been reading a lot of case briefs regarding ridiculous arrests.) It was also pleasantly surprising that a detective had a happy home life! His son is ill, true, but Dawson's family is supportive and strong. It makes a nice contrast to Mankell's Inspector Wallander, to say the least. I'd be happy to read about Dawson's later adventures if Quartey keeps writing!

34. Company of Liars, Karen Maitland (completed 9/9)

35. Smilla's Sense of Snow, Peter Høeg (completed 9/24)
People have been talking about this everywhere since I started reading LT, and apparently it was quite well-regarded in the press when it was released (I was 8 at the time so I don't know for sure!) So I finally got around to reading it and was quite disappointed. I knew going in that Smilla wasn't the most sympathetic character, and it didn't concern me, but she did not grow more likeable as the book continued. About the only positive trait she has is tenacity. I couldn't figure out why she, a native Greenlander, chose to live in Denmark if she disliked it so. Why not just return? She doesn't even have a job to worry about. Ugh. I liked her boyfriend, but he disappeared about halfway through.
The book begins with Smilla's young neighbor falling to his death from the roof of their apartment building, and though Smilla knows something suspicious is afoot, none of the police will listen to her. She and another man in the building team up to investigate, with sexy results. But they gradually lose focus and end up chasing leads about corporate corruption and drug trafficking, among other things. I wanted to poke the characters and say "hey, I thought you were trying to solve your little friend's murder?" We do eventually find out what happened to the kid, but the knowledge seems incidental. Suffice to say that as the book went on, events became less related to the inciting incident, and my interest waned accordingly. Conversely, embarrassing plot twists increased. I don't know why this book is so popular--other than maybe the exotic setting--and I will not be reading any of Høeg's other efforts.

I once had Cold Earth on my wishlist. I'm glad I read your review before purchasing it though. I don't like novelist that use their characters as political mouthpieces. That's nice information to have beforehand, that most reviewers have glossed over.

58-- I do what I can :) I also hate it when writers use their characters to promote an agenda, even if it's one I agree with. At the very least, it's jarring to the flow of the story.

Once again, I've half-read several books recently, which is why I haven't been updating. Here's a sampling of what I just can't commit to:

The Angel's Game, Carlos Ruiz Zafón--I'm kind of surprised I didn't find this as absorbing as I expected. The Shadow of the Wind was excellent. Perhaps I'm just in the wrong frame of mind.

The Years of Rice and Salt, Kim Stanley Robinson--I was enjoying this, just put it down to read a shortly-due library book and never got back to it. I expect I'll return to it once my library books are gone.

Dr Zhivago, Boris Pasternak--Somebody in this group (possibly Avaland?) said this was one of her all-time favorites, so I really looked forward to this book. Unfortunately, I just couldn't get into it. Not bad, but not good either (IMHO.) Of course, most of my reading is done in half-hour stints on my lunch break or before class. That is probably not the best way to read a Nobel Prize-winning author. I hope to try again someday, when I am older and wiser. As a side note, my copy of it is so sweet--it has an inscription, obviously from a loving father to his daughter on her birthday. I assume both are now dead because I found it in a library book sale... :/ Still a nice thing to have, my parents never inscribed stuff in my books!

36. Memoirs of Hadrian, Marguerite Yourcenar

37. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larsson (completed 10/19)

38. The Girl Who Played With Fire, Stieg Larsson (completed 10/25)

39. The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, David Mitchell (completed 11/1)