A Work in Progress

Halloween Treats

Now this is the sort of Halloween treat I like--no calories, hours of entertainment and they were even inexpensive.  The top three are second hand books and the bottom two were freebies.  I've been accumulating them over the past few weeks.  Top to bottom:

An Imperfect Lady by Sarah Harrison - More Edwardian family drama.  I've been enjoying The Flowers of the Field so much, I had to look for more of her books.  Another comfort read, and I still am waiting for one other book by her to arrive in the mail.  Check out her website here.

Slipstream by Elizabeth Jane Howard - I read her Cazalet Chronicles years ago (wonderful--and am due for a reread soon), and only recently discovered she had written a memoir.  It sounds like she had quite an eventful life, so this should be good.

Rosamond Lehmann by Selina Hastings - Another biography that looks very good (I'm very  much in the mood for biographies at the moment, so I had better get back to Emily Post, so I can progress on with the rest that are now staring at me expectantly).  The Spectator calls this "utterly gripping" and the blurb says the life of Lehmann was "as romantic and harrowing as any of her fictional heroines".

Goldengrove by Francine Prose - The publisher kindly sent me a copy of this.  I have never read Prose, but she is an author I always mean to get to (I have one or two of her older books waiting for me), but I will start with her newest.  It has been compared to Henry James's The Awkward Age and L.P. Hartley's The Go-Between (I haven't read the James, but I've started the Hartley, which so far has been excellent).

When Will There Be Good News? by Kate Atkinson - I lucked out and won a copy of this from Tara (again, many thanks).  I have a little catching up to do here.  I really liked Case Histories, but I haven't yet gotten around to One Good Turn (it's in the pile!).  They both sound good, so I can't wait to read them.

Happy Halloween all--I hope you get only treats, too, and no tricks!

Tagged for a meme.

Nonsuchbook tagged me for a meme.  After yesterday's longish post I figured it would be a perfect break for both you and me.

The rules are: Pass it on to five other bloggers, and tell them to open up the nearest book to page 56.  Write out the fifth sentence on that page, and also the next two to five sentences.  The CLOSEST BOOK, not your favorite or most intellectual.  (I think I won't actually tag anyone, but please feel free to play along)!

Okay, so the closest book is the one sitting next to my computer at the moment, Sue Gee's The Mysteries of Glass, which I am reading for Cornflower's book group.  First I was excited to read it after checking out the book blurb, then I started it and wasn't too sure, but now I am several chapters in and am really enjoying it.  She seems to be a wonderful writer, very descriptive (lyrical as one reviewer called it) without being too over the top.  Well, here's a random taste, so you can see.  Page 56:

"Across the street, standing outside Webbs, Ironmongers and Drapers, a gentleman, tall, a little cadaverous, was raising his hat.  An air of dry aristocratic melancholy hung about him.  Richard recalled the pressing of a bony hand om the cold church porch, a kindly inclination of the head.  There it was again.  He raised his own clerical hat, pulled down his muffler and crossed the muddy street, stepping out of the way of a pony and trap making for the market at a trot."

Actually, that is from page 56, but as the fifth sentence was the beginning of dialogue that would make no sense taken out of context, here is the fifth sentence and then several previous sentences--I went backwards.  By the way I love the cover of this book (another one to make me feel cold!).

I seem to be reading a number of books with vicars and curates in them at the moment.  Along with the Gee book, there is Charlotte Bronte's Shirley and Barbara Pym's Jane and Prudence.

Now I turn my attention to a rather important matter--an Amazon gift card that is burning a hole in my pocket, so therefore must be used soon.  I'm contemplating what I should buy.  I always agonize over these things.  At the moment I am leaning towards a nice, fresh, new copy of the Italo Calvino book (the library copy really is pretty grotty), and the movie Gosford Park (which I've borrowed from Netflix twice already, so I might as well just buy it).  Not sure what else will tempt me (too many books actually, which is why I am trying to be selective), though these two will pretty much eat up the gift certificate.  Still, I need to spend enough to get free shipping, right?

The Law and the Lady

I'm probably biased but Wilkie Collins' The Law and the Lady was for me a thumping good read.  It's considered to be inferior to his better known works, The Moonstone, The Woman in White, Armadale and No Name (this last one I have yet to read and am looking forward to it), but I was still very impressed by it.  It seems like some critics dismiss Wilkie Collins' lesser known novels, which I find disconcerting, but as I am no critic I can enjoy what I want unapologetically.  The editor of this edition notes that the Victorian era was full of really good literature (he likened it to a "literary pie-shop"), so I suppose there are lots of really good books competing for readers' and critics' attention.  Apparently the Victorians felt that theirs was the "age of the novel", and I think I have to concur, since I find so much of the work from this period so very rich and really well done. 

Part of the reason I like Wilkie Collins is the way he creates a completely gripping plot and peoples it with interesting characters of breadth and depth.  And I love 'sensational' literature (supposedly the precursor to our modern day detective fiction), though The Law and the Lady is less sensational than his other novels.  Mostly, though, it was Valeria (our heroine) that drew me so deeply into this story.  She's great--feisty and independent and willing to fight for what she loves.  I don't think anyone would call her too modern, since Wilkie Collins was a product of his times.  Although there are some moments when the reader is reminded she is indeed a woman firmly placed in the 1870s and has her place in Society and in married life (which she fulfills as she is expected to when necessary), she nonetheless had to appear quite ahead of her times to the men in the story who aided her in solving the mystery.

The story opens with the marriage of Valeria Brinton and Eustace Woodville, but there's a sense of foreboding and bad luck right from the start.  To begin with neither Eustace's mother nor Valeria's aunt and uncle are pleased with the marriage.  Then Valeria commits an ominous mistake by signing her married name rather than maiden name in the marriage register.  Her aunt's superstition in the matter puts Valeria on edge and makes her uneasy.  It's during their abbreviated honeymoon, Eustace has been called away by a friend before they can set off for the Continent, that Valeria discovers that Eustace has been hiding some sort of secret. 

While Valeria is a strong character, I'm afraid I found Eustace rather wishy washy.  Since I like Valeria so much, I'll forgive him (and her for falling for him) and assume he does indeed have redeemable qualities, but honesty doesn't appear to be one of them.  He has married Valeria under a false name, sure that if she knew the truth about him she would not love or respect him.  In a wonderful scene (which I won't detail here, but hope you'll read the book so you can enjoy it firsthand) Valeria uncovers Eustace's secret.  He has been tried for the murder, by arsenic poisoning, of his first wife.  Tried in Scotland, the jury didn't have enough evidence to convict or to acquit him, so he lives with the ignominy of a verdict of "Not Proven". 

First, no worries, I've not given away any of the plot that wasn't already described on the back cover  of the book.  A 'not proven' verdict is essentially saying that the jury thought the defendant was guilty, but got away with the crime due to lack of evidence.  This is unbearable to Eustace who claims he's innocent.  I'd never heard of this situation before and find it intriguing and wonder if the verdict is still used.  This is the impetus that sends Valeria off on her mission to clear Eustace's good name and determine who really did kill his first wife.

Valeria tells the story.  She's actually writing it down, and it has some elements of the epistolary form to it.  Imagine this story being serialized in a weekly paper.  I would have been on the edge of my seat waiting for each installment!  Did I mention that Valeria is probably the first female sleuth (and you might also know that Wilkie Collins is assumed to have written the first detective novel--The Moonstone, though there are some who will argue that honor actually goes to Edgar Allen Poe).

This may be a detective novel of sorts, but there are all sorts of other things at play here as well.  I read that Wilkie Collins' work was considered "highly topical".  He lived an interesting lifestyle that likely had some influence on how he thought and wrote.  He never married, but he kept two separate households (complete with children, though I believe one set wasn't actually his) with two separate women.  He was supposedly very sympathetic to the plight of the Victorian woman, especially when it came to marriage and property rights.  Another reason I love Wilkie Collins, "he took an unsurpassed interest in women characters, and particularly their intellects and ambitions, and the social restrictions imposed on them."  This certainly comes out in The Law and the Lady and I bet in others of his novels as well.  David Skilton's introduction to the novel is excellent and I wish I could share more of his ideas here, but I've already made this post far too long.

Wilkie Collins wrote oodles of books and short stories.  I'm not sure which novel I'll tackle next, No Name perhaps, or another of his 'lesser known' works.  But I do have several more unread books by him waiting for me.  Whatever I choose I expect it will be good!  By the way this is the fourth and last book I read for Carl's RIP Challenge, so I actually managed to complete one challenge this year--and even before Halloween.  Scary. 

Not So Shiny and New

I think it is physically impossible for me to leave a library without something in my hands.  I had to drop off a few books that were due, but for once I had nothing waiting for me that I had requested.  Instead I pulled out my trusty list to see what books they had on hand that had come recommended to me.  I've mentioned this before, but while I don't mind old, used books, I'm not altogether too fond of old library books.  Once a book has passed through dozens of hands, they get kind of crusty.  If you use the library often, you'll know what I mean.  Strangely the university's older books never seem quite as bad as the public library's older books.  If I could get over my squeamishness, there would be lots to investigate as my library has a fairly large fiction collection.  Some books are in better condition than others, however.  Anyway, I did find a few on my list.

Miss Buncle's Book by D.E. Stevenson - This is one of the most recent Persephone releases.  I've heard very good things about it.  I'd love to have the nice Persephone edition, but I will have to settle for this plain library copy at the moment.  Persephone Books describes it: "mostly this is an entirely light-hearted, easy read, one of those books like Mariana, Miss Pettigrew, The Making of a Marchioness and Greenery Street, which can be recommended unreservedly to anyone looking for something undemanding, fun and absorbing that is also well-written and intelligent."

The Next Room, by Sarah Harrison - This is actually a ghost story of sorts.  It sounds very unlike The Flowers of the Field, which I am enjoying so much, but I don't mind.  It's also less than 200 pages, so much shorter as well.  It seems to have a contemporary setting, but flashes back in time--there is reference to a Victorian girl in a photograph.  It could be fun, and it was just about the only book I could find by her in my library.

If On a Winter's Night a Traveler by Italo Calvino - This sounds like it is very accessible experimental fiction.  It is also the grimiest book of the lot, so I might have to just consider buying a nice copy.  If it is as good as I have heard it is, however, I think it might be worth owning anyway.  It starts:

"You are about to begin reading Italo Calvino's new novel, If on a winter's night a traveler.  Relax.  Concentrate.  Dispel every other thought.  Let the world around you fade.  Best to close the door; the TV is always on in the next room.  Tell the others right away, 'No, I don't want to watch TV'!  Raise your voice--they won't hear you otherwise--'I'm reading! I don't want to be disturbed!'  Maybe they haven't heard you, with all that racket; speak louder, yell: 'I'm beginning to read Italo Calvino's new novel!'  Or if you prefer, don't say anything; just hope they'll leave you alone."

Okay, so he has my attention.  I can't think of another author who's written a book directed specifically at me like that.  Maybe I should turn the computer off (there is not TV on in the next room, but I am sure Calvino would consider this the same sort of distraction) and go and read this...

The Flight of the Maidens by Jane Gardam - And I really do want to read something more by Jane Gardam.  The library had a few of her novels.  This one appealed to me the most at the moment.  It is set in 1946 and concerns three young Yorkshire women, all scholarship students.  I wonder if I own this book, or contemplated reading it before as the story sounds vaguely familiar!  I hate it when I forget what I own (or possibly checked out from the library years ago!).

So, old library books aren't as nice as the brand new shiny (read: clean) ones, but the up side of checking out these out--I am sure I will be able to renew them as many times as I need to actually read them!

The Tenderness of Wolves

Stef Penney's The Tenderness of Wolves is just the sort of book I love.  It's well written, carefully constructed plot-wise, and completely absorbing.  A combination of historical novel, mystery and adventure story, she seemed to get all the elements just right, all the more impressive as this is her first novel.  I was a little worried at first as the story is told from multiple viewpoints, and I wondered if it was going to be too confusing to follow so many characters, but once a rhythm was established I had no problem following the various threads through to their exciting conclusion.

The novel has garnered all sorts of acclaim, and it won the 2006 Costa award (formerly Whitbread), which I suppose is what initially drew me into buying it, but I was hesitant to actually start it as I'm not really drawn to adventure stories set in the frigid north country.  I had this same feeling of hesitation when I read Jack London's The Call of the Wild earlier this year, but I was pleasantly surprised in that case as well.  As a matter of fact there were even a few elements of the stories which overlapped.

I don't know if I can give you a very good plot summarization, and I'm not sure I even want to.  Too much happens, and much of the pleasure of the book is the unraveling of the mystery and piecing together of the various elements of the puzzle.  Some are surprising, some lead to nowhere, and others fit together perfectly.  As a taste, however, imagine Canada in the mid-1800s.  In a tiny community called Caulfied on the Dove River a French trapper, Laurent Jammett, is brutally murdered.  The body is discovered by a local woman, Mrs. Ross, whose son has disappeared in the wake of the  murder.  He is, of course, the main suspect.  Let's make things more difficult.  Winter is nearly upon the residents.  Two sets of tracks lead north from the murdered man's cottage.   

The Hudson Bay Company, a British company which essentially controls all the fur trade in Canada, sends their men to investigate.  Things get messier as more characters enter the picture.  A former journalist from south of the border has interests of his own when it comes to the dead man.  And a half-breed Native American trapper is caught in the area without a convincing alibi.  But all clues lead north and that's where first Mrs. Ross goes in search of her son, and then others follow.

I can imagine cold.  I can imagine frigidly cold, blustery winds and snowy weather, but I don't think anything in my experience can compare to what it must have been like traveling north in Canada on foot without any sort of modern convenience.  The story was almost cinematic in it's telling (Penney's a screenwriter by the way).  It was a very visual story and I found it easy to imagine it in my mind.  I can't attest to the accuracy of all the details, apparently Penney has not only never been to Canada but she is agoraphobic, but it seemed convincingly told and well researched to me.          

One other detail that I found really interesting.  Mrs. Ross is the only character who speaks in first person.  The reader gets the other versions of the story, but no one else gets to tell it in their own voice.  For that reason there is an intimacy and immediacy with Mrs. Ross that I didn't quite feel with the others.  She was my favorite character and had a curious past that I wish I could have known even more about.  Apparently Penney's first screenplay is about Mrs. Ross and her husband during the Highland Clearances in 1850s Scotland.  Perhaps someday it will be turned into a film and I can learn more about them. 

I love being surprised by a book that I am not too sure about going into.  In this case it was definitely the right book at the right time.  Now I need to find some other books set in Canada.  Perhaps it's time to pull out some of those Margaret Laurence books I bought earlier this year or pick up an unread Margaret Atwood.  Or maybe there are some new authors to discover--I'll be keeping my eyes open for something good.

"A Spot of Gothic"

As this is the last weekend before Halloween I will be putting my ghost story anthologies away for a while, but I have really enjoyed all the stories I've read.  I think I could easily go on reading them, but a little variety might be in order now.  I don't really believe in ghosts, but it can be fun once in a while to suspend belief and read something a little bit on the spooky side.  Also I have several other short story collections that I hope to finish by the end of the year, so I will turn my attention to those for a while.  I think I will have to invest in a copy of The Mammoth Book of Modern Ghost Stories, however (the copy I have now is on loan from the library).  There have been so many good stories I've wanted to explore, and I've barely touched on most of them.

This week for my last ghost story I decided to try Jane Gardam's "A Spot of Gothic", which seems to be a pretty traditional ghost story.  She is an author who has come recommended to me, but I have not yet gotten around to picking up any of her novels.  Gardam is a contemporary author who was born in North Yorkshire.  I thought it was interesting that she worked for a traveling library before working for several magazines.  I wonder what working for a traveling library entails?  She has written a fair amount of short fiction, and "A Spot of Gothic" is her "tribute to those who have written Gothic fiction".

The story is set in Low Thwaite, North Yorkshire in the fall of 1980.  The young wife of a military man, has taken up residence in this small Northern village while her husband is posted for a short period in Hong Kong.  Not liking big crowded cities, she decides she can cope on her own temporarily.  Although her husband warns that the locals don't warm up to strangers easily in the North, she finds just the opposite to be the case.  As a matter of fact they seem quite friendly.

"I was whizzing along the road out of Wensleydale through Low Thwaite beyond Naresby when I suddenly saw a woman at her cottage gate, waving at me gently like an old friend.  In a lonely dale this is not surprising, as I had found out."

What is surprising is the woman waving was doing so in the middle of the night.  Mrs. Bainbridge had been returning home from a dinner party when she saw the woman "waving a slow decorous arm, a queenly arm".  Her hair was piled up high on her head in a queenly manner.  Mrs. Bainbridge was so shaken she stopped her car a few miles further on the road and got out.  She wondered if the woman was actually waving for help.  Why else would someone be standing outside waving in the middle of the night?

"I got out of the car and walked about.  It was cold.  I stood on the bridge.  Apart from the noise of the beck everything was absolutely quiet.  There was not a light from any house in any direction.  Down here by the beck I could see no horizons, not the fell's edge, no even the sweet nibbled grass beside the road.  The air smelled very clean like fresh sheets."

"This was the pedlars' road.  For five hundred years, they had walked it with packs of ribbons and laces and buttons and medicines, and a great many of them according to all the stories had been murdered for them or disappeared in the snow in winter--often not found until Martinmas.  If my car doesn't start now, I thought, I shall be very much alone."

The following day she returns to the road where she stopped and backtracks to the house.  She's curious about the house, but isn't willing to wander beyond the fence to look, the lane being dark and overgrown.  Instead she sits down on a rickety milk platform formerly used to hold churns when she feels someone watching her.  She doesn't hear anyone coming upon her, but suddenly the woman is there.  It's an eerie encounter made even stranger when she discovers more about the woman later on from the local doctor.

I enjoyed Gardam's story and plan on finally looking for some of her work.  Her first adult novel, God on the Rocks was short listed for the Booker Prize in 1978 and later won the Prix Baudelaire in France, and was even made into a film.  It sounds very appealing to me, "a coming-of-age story set in the thirties", but as it is not in print in the US, I will have to see what the library has. I love discovering new authors through their short stories.

Weekend Book Notes

I've been thinking that next year I don't want to make too many long, drawn out plans like I am known to make and just concentrate on my own book stacks for a while.  I'm not sure how this will work out (knowing how easily I am attracted to new, shiny books and challenges and such), but Isabel's 9 Books for 2009 reading challenge actually sounds like something I can manage.  The idea is to read nine books already on your bookshelves over the course of the year.  I have loads of books on my bookshelves I've been meaning to read... 

I just heard that the Winter Persephone Biannually is in the mail, so I can look forward to receiving it in the next couple of weeks.  There are three new titles out.  They all sound good, but this one appeals to me the most.  I'd don't think I've ordered any of the Dove Grey Persephones all year (though I bought a couple of the new Classics from The Book Depository some time back).  There are three new Classics as well.  I love the new cover of Mariana by Monica Dickens.  If I didn't already own the book I would be tempted to get the new one.  It's a great read by the way!

I'm almost halfway through reading the pile of books that I mentioned earlier, which I hope to complete by the end of the year.  If I keep doing this I may not get them all read, however.  I'm sure I'll probably come close, but that's okay if I don't.  I'll get to them all eventually.  It's just nice starting a new year with a manageable pile of books on the night table.  Three are short story collections, which I have been bad about not picking up and reading.  Old habits die hard.

I have another book I can add to my upstairs/downstairs list.  I am thoroughly enjoying Sarah Harrison's The Flowers of the Field, which I started partially on a whim and partially in hopes of finishing a reading challenge.  It's sort of on the fluffy side, but it's also well written and completely absorbing.  I think I put off reading it as it has over 650 pages.  Sometimes chunky books put me off a little, if I have lots of other books started.  In this case I am happy there are so many pages as that means the story is going to last for a good while (though at the rate I am reading, I don't think it will take me long to get through it).  The story follows three women (two Edwardian sisters and a parlor maid who grew up in their household) through the Great War.  It's out of print, but it looks like used copies can be had cheaply.  I've already ordered two more books by Harrison.  I can see I've found a new author to add to my comfort reads worthy of multiple rereads list!

I spent a good chunk of yesterday being lazy and reading.  I even managed to work in some stitching time.  I wish I could have more days like that!

The Last 100 Pages

The weather has been wet and dreary here all week, so I decided I needed a little break from work today after arriving sopping wet yesterday.  Why does it always seem to start raining (heavily) when I am walking to or from the bus stop?  Even the book in my bookbag was damp.  I had to leave it to dry out under a pile of heavy library books all day, so it wouldn't expand to twice its normal size (I don't like getting soaked in a heavy rain, but I dry off much better than a book does!).  It was quite nice sleeping in this morning and listening to the rain beating down from the warmth of my bed and then getting to lazily read a few chapters before I even considered getting up.  I'm within the last hundred pages of finishing both The Tenderness of Wolves and The Law and the Lady.  Both have been excellent reads, and I am actually sorry to be so close to the end of both of them.  I'll post more on them next week.

Last week I mentioned a passage in Charlotte Bronte's Shirley about needlework.  Would you ever imagine Wilkie Collins would write about such a thing?  He does in the Law and the Lady.  I've heard people comment on Charles Dickens' most unusual characters, but Wilkie Collins is at least as good as creating very believable as well as extremely strange people in his novels.  In the story Valeria Woodville is determined to clear her husband's name of a crime he did not commit.  In one scene she talks with Eustace's old wheelchair-bound friend, Miserrimus Dexter.

"Good God—why?" he cried. "Stop! I am exciting myself. I mustn't do that. I must have all my wits about me; I mustn't wander. The thing is too serious. Wait a minute!"

An elegant little basket was hooked on to one of the arms of his chair. He opened it, and drew out a strip of embroidery partially finished, with the necessary materials for working, a complete. We looked at each other across the embroidery. He noticed my surprise.

"Women," he said, "wisely compose their minds, and help themselves to think quietly, by doing needle-work. Why are men such fools as to deny themselves the same admirable resource—the simple and soothing occupation which keeps the nerves steady and leaves the mind calm and free? As a man, I follow the woman's wise example. Mrs. Valeria, permit me to compose myself."

Gravely arranging his embroidery, this extraordinary being began to work with the patient and nimble dexterity of an accomplished needle-woman.

"Now," said Miserrimus Dexter, "if you are ready, I am. You talk—I work. Please begin."

I obeyed him, and began.

It's one thing to read about a woman of the time working with her needle and another thing entirely to see a man working on a piece of embroidery.  Miserrimus is as colorful as his name.  He is severely handicapped, having no legs, but a most attractive trunk and face.  And in the story he often hops out of his chair and bounds around on his powerful arms.  I'm afraid he's slightly off center mentally, but what he shares with Valeria will be instrumental in determining just whether Eustace is innocent or not!  If you've not read Wilkie Collins, you really, really must.  The Law and the Lady may not be one of his major works, but it's quite entertaining--especially on a cold, rainy day like today.

Comforting or Challenging?

I think I am a pretty predictable reader.  As a matter of fact I think if someone wanted to buy me a book it would be very easy for them if they knew me just a little or had read enough of my posts here.  Of course no one ever seems to actually buy me books as gifts, but no doubt people think I already have too many.  I tend to choose books that are great comfort reads.  Not everything on my sidebar I have started is a comfort read, some are challenging in their own way, but nearly always they are within my comfort zone in terms of story or writing style. 

Two recent posts have made me think about how I choose my books and wonder if perhaps I should try and be a bit more adventuresome at least sometimes.  Dorothy wrote about Tom McCarthy's Remainder, and Litlove has written about Seizure by Erica Wagner.  I hadn't even heard of either author until I read these posts, and had I seen them in the bookstore I bet I wouldn't have bought either of them.  Reading about them from two readers I trust and respect makes me want to consider at least trying them.

Experimental literature (am guessing these would both be considered experimental?) tends to scare me a little bit.  It's unknown terrain and I feel a little off balance when I try something like these--"will I get what the author is doing?".  I like my stories to be recognizable to me.  If it feels too strange, I balk at reading it and will give up rather than persevering.  The last book I can think of that I tried to read (note 'tried') was Sleepless Nights by Elizabeth Hardwick, which the Slaves read last year.  I couldn't even manage a book of less than 150 pages.  It was very autobiographical and initially was very appealing.  But as I got into the book I found myself lost and confused.  The writing could be beautiful, but there was no plot to follow.  How do you approach something like that?  I like things to be neat and tidy, and quite often experimental literature seems to me to be very messy.  I need to change my expectations, I think, and let the words wash over me and just go with the flow of the narrative.

I will have another chance to read something challenging soon.  The Slaves are reading Jeannette Winterson's "genre-bending" Sexing the Cherry in January.  This is a book I've owned for quite some time and am happy to be able to read it in a group setting.  I love my comfort reads and I don't expect to ever stop reading those books that appeal to me the most, no matter how how predictable they may be (or I may be for choosing them), but I would love to be more comfortable about taking risks in my reading (something to work on next year) by choosing books that will challenge me more in some way. 

So, are you like me and stick close to your reading comfort zone, or do you prefer to take chances on your book choices?  If you do like experimental fiction, what books do you suggest for a reader who just wants to dip her toe into it and give it a try (without being too daring)?  If I get enough suggestions I'll make a list--"experimental literature made painless"! 

...And then there are those library books...

It's not as though there has been a dearth of new reading material to choose from so far this year, but all of a sudden there seems to be stacks of new books out (along with books that have been in my piles for a long while) that I want to read.  Two visits in the last week has netted me these new books from the library.  Here's my third post in as many days about new books I want to read...I'm not sure which ones I will actually get to, but as always I want to read all of them!

Death with Interruptions, José Saramago.  This is an author I keep meaning to read.  Am I the last person to read something by him?  His latest features death, who decides to take a holiday, and the repercussions. 

Marrying Anita: A Quest for Love in the New India, Anita Jain.  Normally I'm not sure I would pick up a book like this, but it sounded sort of interesting.  Jain, an American daughter of Indian immigrants, decided to move back to India after becoming fed up with the New York singles scene and give an arranged marriage a try. 

Résistance: A Woman's Journal of Struggle and Defiance in Occupied France, Agnes Humbert.  This is a book I've been wanting to get my hands on after reading several very good reviews of it.  Humbert was an art historian when she started a newsletter called Résistance (giving the French Resistance its name).  She became part of the Resistance and was betrayed to the Gestapo.  This book is a translation of her journal, and I can't wait to start it.

Company of Liars, Karen Maitland.  I was really excited about this one, but now that I finally have it, I'm not sure I'm in the right mood to read it.  It pays homage to The Canterbury Tales and The Decameron.

Lulu in Marrakech, Diane Johnson.  This one does appeal to me, but I am disappointed to see less than glowing reviews of it (not that that ever stopped me from reading a book that appeals).  I like Diane Johnson's style, but I wonder if I shouldn't just go back and read some of her older work that I've not yet gotten to/

Library books always get me into trouble with my current reads (I'm easily distracted sometimes).  If only the library allowed for a longer check out time than three weeks!  Maybe I'll get to renew a few of these, though.  Waiting lists always put a damper on things.