The Snow Child

The Snow Child
By Eowyn Ivey (386 pages)
Published by Reagan Arthur/Little, Brown
Bookish rating: 5

I give it a 5. The most enthusiastic 5 I have given since I can remember. A ballsy statement,here, but I think this novel is perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Part fairy tale, part achingly gritty and human, this story begins with an older, childless couple homesteading in the Alaskan wilderness in the 1920s. Coping with the longing and disappointment and heartache of wanting a child, Jack and Mabel are fascinating characters who create a little snow girl for fun one snowy night. Then one day, the snow child shows up at their door as a real girl, flitting in and out of their lives. And of course, they grow to love her. But is she even real?

Anything else I write about events will spoil the plot, so let me move on to themes--and boy, are they big. This novel explores what it means to be a mother in the many, compelling forms motherhood can take. Loss, heartache, unexpected joy, suffering, friendship--it's all packed into one of the most moving and beautiful novels I have ever read. I fear that everything else I read for awhile will seem contrived and lame.

The writing is pitch-perfect, whether describing moss or falling snow, or the pain of losing a baby. You can feel the cold air along with every single emotion the characters experience. It's quite incredible. As Mabel thinks back to the years and years her arms "ached with longing" for a baby, she imagines the mommy desire and physical need to just stroke and kiss and clutch her babies and wiggly toddlers. "Where else in life, Mabel wondered, could a woman love so openly and with such abandon?" (p. 328) See? Freaking brilliant.

The Snow Child was a finalist for the 2013 Pulitzer, which means I need to read the actual winner, because I am skeptical that it is superior to this novel.

Do I actually need to type out that I recommend this book? HIGHLY? Oh my goodness, just read it.

Only Time Will Tell

Only Time Will Tell
By Jeffrey Archer (386 pages)
Published by St. Martin's Press
Bookish rating: 3.75

In this first vaguely titled book of Jeffrey Archer's wildly popular Clifton chronicles, we're introduced to Harry Clifton, our hero, and lots and lots of drama.

Brinking on commercial lit, this is not the greatest book ever. However, it IS a fun, engrossing story. Archer is not the greatest writer ever. However, he IS a good storyteller. And really, isn't that what we really read for? Stories?

The plot pacing is fast (in fact, at times it seems rushed), the stakes are always high, and the characters are fundamentally good or evil, making it easy to love the heroes and hate the villains.

One beef I had was Archer's treatment of point of view. Although each chapter opener tells us precisely which character we are now following, the narrator pops into various characters heads within a single scene. An omniscient narrator just doesn't seem to work for this book or its set-up. It reads clumsily and can be jolting. You've got to be a damn good writer--not just storyteller--to pull off simultaneous points of view, and I just don't think Archer is at that level.

But these are quibbles, really, because I did indeed enjoy the story and I've already started the second book. So I guess I recommend it?

The Circus in Winter

The Circus in Winter
By Cathy Day (271 pages)
Published by Harcourt
Bookish rating: 4

The Circus in Winter is essentially a collection of short stories (a la Olive Kitteridge), but also essentially a novel. How can it "essentially" be both. It just can.

Through the viewpoints of multiple people and multiple generations, we see the character of the town of Lima, Indiana, which houses the circus during its off-season, grow and develop. Some of the stories are very circus-y, some merely take place in the same town, but they're all connected and give multiple impressions of the town and the rise and fall of the carnie life.

The Circus in Winter is darker than, say, Water for Elephants, and the exploitation of the circus "freaks" is astutely handled without being preachy or self-righteous. Mostly, the novel is an interesting study in the craft of writing interesting and unique characters, portraying time and history, and articulating the sense and soul of a particular place.

Overall, this novel is a worthy piece of writing and was pretty enjoyable. To appreciate the book, you've got to get past the short story aspect--don't get too attached to a particular story line or character. Because it will end shortly. And they will probably die.

Recommended.

The Lost Symbol

The Lost SymbolBy Dan Brown (509 pages)
Published by Doublday
Bookish rating: 3.5

Yes, I'm one of the trillion people who read The Da Vinci Code and liked it, one of the billion people who read Angels and Demons, and, a mere couple of years after millions read The Lost Symbol, I can now count myself among them.

The Lost Symbol is what it is. It's well-plotted (except for the ending), smart, thriller-esque, and escapist reading. It is not great literature, but who cares? And really, on the whole? It's actually pretty good.

I feel like I'm apologizing for liking this book.

Another Robert Langdon thriller, our symbolist professor finds himself in another symbol chase, this time in Washington, DC. As someone who dwelled in DC, Northern Virginia, and now Maryland for the past (almost) decade, I enjoyed the DC element. After all, DC is the center of the universe, right?

Throughout the story, I found myself generally entertained and often surprised as I read. The ending fell rather flat for me, but overall, The Lost Symbol delivered. I even think Chris might read it.

Dracula

Dracula
By Bram Stoker (448 pages)
Bookish rating: 3.75

Enter spooky, evil-sounding laugh here. Can you believe I had never before read Stoker's Dracula? 'Tis true. And can you believe I finished the book around Halloween but never posted its review? 'Tis also true.

Stoker's gothic novel, Dracula, has generated a gazillion movies, TV shows, and related stories and books. Pour quoi? Because he does something masterful in Dracula. Suspense and horror? This is my favorite type of thriller--the type that has you tense and riveted, not grossed out by gratuitous ickiness that intends merely to shock.

Stoker writing during the Victorian era, we do have flowery speeches full of hyperbole and theatrical emotion. They can get a wee bit tiresome, but hey. That's Victorian lit.

Even if you don't like the thriller genre or anything remotely spooky, Dracula is a must-read for the well-read. It just is.

Torn: True Stories of Kids, Career, and the Conflict of Modern Motherhood

Torn: True Stories of Kids, Career, and the Conflict of Modern Motherhood
Edited by Samantha Parent Walravens (288 pages)
Published by Coffeetown Press
Bookish rating: 4


Torn is a compilation of essays of mothers, some of whom stay home, some of whom work, and all of whom have, technically, compromised in some way(s).

I read this book forever ago, often in snippets while nursing Lorelei, which shows how long it has been. I stalled on writing my review of it, because I wanted my post to be really good and really thoughtful. And maybe even a tad witty.

So, obviously, I never wrote it.

I also tired of bit of the working-mama topic and wasn't super fired up to write about it again. Don't get me wrong--working mommyhood is something I deeply care about. But I'm so busy BEING a working mom that writing about it gets back-burnered.

However, I'm trying to pull together my 2013 book list BEFORE April (which would be earlier than last year), so it's time to actually write this review.

I've read quite a few books about working motherhood, and one giant flaw they all have is that they're rather know-it-all while utterly failing to reflect the majority of working moms. I mean, high-powered executives are great and all, but with that power comes a lot of financial flexibility. I'm more interested in the schoolteachers and receptionists and accountants and nurses and mid-level office types than the uber successful. I have yet to read a working mommy book with a mommy writer who relies on daycare full-time.

Another batch of people who write with great exaggerated authority on working motherhood are writers. Heh. It makes sense, because they have the time and the inclination, but the thing is, writers who write for a living are not confined to a 9-to-5 job. Yes, working from home has its challenges, but again, I'm more interested in women who struggle to get to work on time because a clogged milk duct and disinterested nursing baby torpedoed the morning routine. Or toddler tantrums that make you run late. Or forgetting shoes for your kid and realizing it in the daycare parking lot.

I'm NOT interested in how to decorate a nursery attached to a corner office, or the suggestion that working from home 1 hour per day is reflective of working mommyhood at large.

So, with that preface, I think Torn is the best book currently available as far as really making an effort to really reflect motherhood and the different forms it can take. And it's not just working moms. Torn includes many essays from stay-at-home moms who explain how they made their decisions to stay home and how they feel about it. Yeah, it still leans a bit too far to the well-educated women, and the middle- and upper-classes.It does. But it's the best there is so far.

Perhaps obviously, the multiple points of view is the book's greatest strength, as the essays themselves range from okay to pretty good. Again, I would've like to hear more from more typical, run-of-the-mill moms who don't have particularly unique jobs, but I guess I'll have to write that book myself. This one will do in the meantime, and I'm glad it exists.

Torn's main theme is conflict and compromise when it comes to career and spawn, which--duh--you can gather via the title. That might sound negative, especially since we're talking motherhood (which of course is supposed to be the most important thing EVER), but "Torn" is a apt title. Lord knows it reflects MY working and mothering life. I spent a good year convinced I was ready to hop on over to the stay-at-home side, and I'm only recently thinking, for the first time since Lorelei joined our family, "Nah, working outside the home is the best thing for my family and me." Finally, my head and heart are aligned on working outside the home, and boy. Thank goodness. Because last year was freaking hell.

And . . . the baby (I mean, toddler) has woken up and needs her mommy. So, I post and just say this: Read this one. It's worth it.

Foreign Affairs

Foreign Affairs
By Alison Lurie (280 pages)
Published by Random House
Bookish rating: 4.5

My aunt suggested this book for the little online book club I participate in, and while she was unimpressed, I was impressed.

We follow English professors Vinnie and Fred to London, where they self-indulgently research literary obscurities, fully funded yet complaining about such funding (like most academics---can you imagine sabbaticals for normal people?! AND OMG HOW THEY WHINE!). Vinnie is in her 50s and unlovely, and Fred is in his early 30s are oh so handsome, and they both are connected to the same university English department back home in New York. In London, Fred and Vinnie each embark on a love affair (not with each other), and it's all presented INCREDIBLY by Alison Lurie.

Now, you know I loved a book when I include  quotes in my review. For starters, although Lurie is an academic herself, she has their lot pegged: "A unique person is exactly what Carissa is not, Fred thinks. She is a conventional, frightened academic: intelligent, granted; but forever anxious to seem even more intelligent. Whereas Roo---" (p. 40). As someone who, back in the day, spent (too) much time with anxious PhD English students in one of the best English depts. in the country, and as someone who currently deals with academics on a daily basis, I loved Lurie poking fun at how seriously these people often take themselves.

I also loved the depiction of Vinnie, who has one failed marriage under her belt and is independent to a rather selfish, self-absorbed (albeit endearingly) degree. The idea of having another person simply share her space is utterly distasteful to her: "And then there is the noise and clutter that's involved in having someone else always around, walkign from room to room, opening and shutting doors, turning on the radio, the television, the record player, the stove, the shower. Having to negotiate with this someone before you did the simplest thing: having to agree with them about when and what to eat, when to sleep, when to bathe  . . . Having to ask permission, as it were, to see her friends or hang a picture or buy a plant; having to inform someone every single damn time she felt like taking any action whatsoever" (p. 241).

I found the above quote hilarious, because it's true. How I managed to ever marry, and do so happily, is a mystery. Thank goodness Vinnie had no kids.

Foreign Affairs won the 1985 Pulitzer, deservedly. Though Auntie Cheryl thinks otherwise.