A Work in Progress

Black Rain by Masuji Ibuse

I'm not sure which has been harder.  Reading Masuji Ibuse's Black Rain (Kuroi Ame, translated by John Bester), a novel of the bombing of Hiroshima, or corralling my thoughts and trying to write about it.  This was a profoundly sad and disturbing book and one I often thought of setting aside because it was such a bleak and unremitting read.  I'm glad I didn't, but it's a book that is going to weigh heavily on my mind for a while, I think. 

While I read a lot of books about or set during the two World Wars, I've always been reluctant to read about the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  In part this is simply because it's hard to imagine such a horrific event and to try and wrap my mind around the utter devastation that must have occurred.  And in part it's hard to come to terms with the fact that the U.S. is the only country to have used an atomic bomb on another country during a war.  If what happened in Hiroshima and Nagasaki is not testament enough to the wrongness of nuclear weapons (and I'm not very convinced about the wisdom of nuclear power either), then nothing is, but countries are still determined and make and have them. 

If there was any question about imagining the devastation, I now have vivid images to keep safely tucked away in my mind.  Black Rain is a novel, but really it reads almost like eyewitness accounts to the aftereffects of the bomb.  The story is ostensibly about a young woman who, after the war, hopes to marry but her health is in question due to radiation exposure.  Apparently this was something that occurred frequently after the war.  Ibuse uses diary entries to tell his story.  It isn't the smoothest way to move forward a fictional narrative, but it is effective for what he was trying to do.  

Shigematsu Shizuma is the main narrator, though he's not the main diarist.  He and his wife Shigeko have taken in their niece Yasuko, which he feels guilty about after the bomb.  Had he not asked her to come to Hiroshima, she would never have experienced any ill effects and thus had problems in finding a husband.  Shigematsu is compiling accounts of the bombing in order to give them to the family of the man who has shown an interest in marrying Yasuko.  The idea is that he will be able to show that what she experienced will not hinder her marrying and leading a healthy and average life.  Really, though, it's to give the reader a front seat to what happened when an atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. 

The story moves back and forth in time, though the bulk is made up of various diary entries, so the reader sees both what happened (though not in great detail) after the war but also what happened when the bomb was dropped and in the days that followed.  Various perspectives are given as Shigematsu relays the experiences not only of himself, Shigeko and Yasuko but also people he meets in his harrowing journey into and out of Hiroshima.  All this he copies down into his book.

Honestly the images, though not gratuitous, are still nightmarish.  On August 6 a particularly destructive bomb is dropped and Shigematsu must travel from the factory where he works into Hiroshima to find his wife and niece.  There is a sense of confusion and uncertainty, and as the day wears on there is a sense of horror as a dawning realization that a new and more powerful bomb has been dropped that must have had some sort of poison in it.  The city, or most of it anyway, has literally been flattened and there is a feeling of dislocation as he tries to orient himself, find his wife and niece who he hopes have survived and then lead them back to safety. 

Ibuse was born in Hiroshima but did not live there during the war.  He only wrote about it at a distance of twenty years (Black Rain was published in 1969), and it was based on diaries and interviews of those who lived there and experienced it first hand.  However, Ibuse is masterful (almost too much so) in painting a portrait of a city and its inhabitants that literally don't know or understand what hit them (sorry to use a cliché).  Almost immediately those who have survived begin pouring out of Hiroshima with horrific wounds.  This is a country at war, but what's just occurred is unexplainable to them, and it isn't until days later that they even begin to understand the nature of the bomb.  There is disorientation and a lack of leadership, a surrealness to the landscape, and even through a bombing there is bureaucratic red tape to add to the insanity.

I was struck by a scene where Shigematsu came across a wall filled with notes posted to it by survivors looking for their family or family coming to Hiroshima hoping to find their loved ones still alive.  Half a century later in New York City family members did the same thing after 9/11.  A vicious cycle it would seem.

This is not a book that ends on a happy or hopeful note, more a sense of resignation.  Despite the unsettling imagery, the storytelling feels somewhat understated.  Ibuse is not interested in pointing fingers and assigning blame rather simply portraying what the average Japanese citizen endured.  The characters were so stoic and matter of fact, going on about the daily business of living as best they could.  Definitely not an easy read, but certainly a worthy one.  I do think I need to pick up another Japanese author sometime soon in order add other and more hopeful images to my mind.

You can read Masuji Ibuse's obituary here.  

Check out Caroline's thoughts on the book here.  Next up in her Literature and War readalong is The Story of a Life by Aharon Appelfeld.    

A Vacation Reads Longlist (well, shortlist)

Three weeks from tomorrow I will be on my way to beautiful San Francisco.  I'm sorry to be talking about it so much, but it's been so long since I've been on a proper vacation I can't help but be consumed by thoughts of a new place, new scenery and better weather (something that shouldn't be scoffed at!).  I've been adding to a list of books I might take with me since I first booked my flight.

Now I know that I'm going somewhere that has so many wonderful attractions that it's not likely that I'm going to have lots of kick back with a book and relax time, so I won't be taking all these books with me of course.  But this is sort of my own personal short list of vacation read contenders.  I still only plan on taking three books with me (I'll have two long flights--four if you count connecting flights--plus a week there).  

I expect this pile will continue to morph, but from the original list I've pared things down considerably.  Let's see, to begin with, I had Penelope Lively (Moon Tiger), Michael Ondaatje (The Cat's Table), Dorothy Sayers (finish The Nine Tailors), Andrew Miller (Pure), P.G. Wodehouse, Ruth Rendell, Andrew Taylor (Anatomy of Ghosts), Georgette Heyer, Jane Austen (finish Emma), Laurie King . . .

These decisions are really difficult.  Of course if I don't choose wisely that will just give me an excuse to buy some books while I'm there, right?  But as of today, the pile you see above contains the books that suit my mood at the moment.

Cynthia Harrod-Eagles, The Chevalier -- I really want to get back to reading the Morland Chronicles and a longish plane ride might be the perfect time to get back into this book which has been sitting by my bed for months.

Mary Stewart, This Rough Magic -- Mary Stewart is just dependably good.  A good novel of romantic suspense sounds suitably absorbing for sitting in airports.

Barbara Ewing, Rosetta -- Reading Elizabeth Chadwick has whetted my appetite for historical fiction.  This is set in 18th century London, Paris and Egypt.

Sophie Hannah, Little Face -- I've somehow managed to not read anything by Sophie Hannah yet, but I have heard many good things about her books.  Another case of good suspense and perfect travel reading.  I think this is her first book.

Natsuo Kirino, Grotesque -- I read her book, Out, several years ago and was quite impressed as well as very creeped out.  I've wanted to read more of her work.  At the moment she is almost a shoe-in, and I expect she'll end up in my backpack!

William Boyd, Any Human Heart -- I seem to be collecting Boyd's work, but I have yet to read any of it.  This sounds really good and has the added bonus of being written in diary format.

Now to just whittle these down to three.  Unless I cave in and bring four.  I mean I won't have access to a computer so I'll need to spend those "hotel" hours doing something, right?  Now of course I could take three books that I am/or will be currently reading, but it seems a proper vacation calls for new books (that's my story anyway, and I'm sticking to it). 

Once August formally arrives the day after tomorrow, the real count down begins.  Lots of planning to do still, but I think I've got reading material covered!

This Week's Reading and Other Miscellanea

Remember Pink Hill Manor?

From it's humble beginnings . . .

. . . To a partially assembled house . . .

It's finally beginning to take shape.  I'm wondering if now I am being optimistic about possibly entering it into the State Fair next month.  It may yet happen, but I might take a look through my bin of "finished" but not Finished projects and see if there is something I might be able to sew up quickly to enter.  We'll see.  I might have to think about this one for a possible entry next year!  The problem is more that it will need to be framed and as I don't do my own framing I might not have enough time to pay someone to frame it.  It doesn't matter really, as the important thing is simply to enjoy stitching it--which I am!

This weekend has been a little crazy as I've had lots of house-projects to contend with, so not much reading time (hence my sharing Pink Hill today rather than writing a proper book post).  I'm afraid I'm going to have to save Theseus for next weekend, which is a pity as I was really looking forward to spending time with my Mythology book today.

I did get in a little creative time this weekend, however, though mostly under pressured circumstances.  I joined another mail art exchange, and they are due to be mailed on Tuesday.  Being the procrastinator that I am, I didn't actually start them until last night.  I've been giving the theme ("Sweet") lots of thought, but hemming and hawing over just what I was going to make and kept changing my mind.  It's not that I didn't like the ideas it was more a matter of being unsure about how I was going to execute them.  I like being creative, but I can't draw a straight line to save my life.  The envelopes are meant to be more handmade than not, but I've sort of interpreted things rather widely.  I hope that even if I've sort of sidestepped some of the rules I'll still get a favorable nod for effort!

Now with a few fun and not so fun (that being home improvement sort of work) projects out of the way I have Monday and a new week to look forward to.  I almost don't mind as I always get in more "good" reading time during the work week (as strange as that sounds).  So, best not to look back over the weekend and contemplate what I didn't accomplish (and the list is as ever a long one), but look forward to reading possibilities this week.

I'll be sharing a few thoughts (once I get them sorted out) about Masuji Ibuse's Black Rain in the next few days.  It was a rather heavy read, so I'm looking forward to reading something a little less intense.  To that end I'm very much looking forward to Elizabeth Chadwick's Falcons of Montabard.  I've had enough of a taste to know it's going to be an entertaining and absorbing read and going back to the 12th century is very appealing to me at the moment.  I've read Chadwick before, and if you like historical fiction, I can heartily recommend her books.  I need to finish A.S. Byatt's Ragnorok and hopefully won't be too tardy for the Slaves discussion.  And I think I need to get back to John Steinbeck's East of Eden.  I've missed my daily few chapters and had been making steady progress in it. 

And a book I've not mentioned that I got via interlibrary loan, Koula by Greek writer Menis Koumandareas.  My Greek Mythology reading has inspired me to pick up a few other books (as you can see by my sidebar book choices) set in Greece.  I thought I should really try a Greek author, however, as well.  This is a very slim book written in sparse prose about an affair between an older married woman and a younger man.  The two meet on the train every day, sitting across from each other and sharing quick, questioning glances.  It's a little voyeuristic (though I don't mean that in a sordid way!), but intriguing, especially as I take public transport.  It makes you a little curious about the people you see every day who you will never know.

And who knows which other books I'll be dipping into this week.  We'll see where my mood takes me!

The Winter House by Judith Lennox

Would it be a bad thing to say I really enjoyed Judith Lennox's The Winter House, despite its predictability?  I honestly don't say that as a criticism but more as an observation.  Actually I think I liked it because of its predictability, as strange as that sounds.  There are certain authors I turn to because I know more or less what I can expect from them and there is a comfort in knowing I can pick up a book, immerse myself in the story, be somewhere else entirely for a while, perhaps be confronted with situations that might be difficult and muddled, but in the end turn out for the best (maybe not necessarily be a picture-book happy ending for all the characters but certainly satisfying)?  Georgette Heyer's books come to mind for example.  Now I definitely don't ask (or want) that of all the books I read.  More often than not I want something really fresh and unexpected or surprising, but sometimes I also just want something undemanding with an 'all's well that ends well' sort of set up.  It's not necessarily a bad thing knowing ahead of time just what I'm getting myself into, if you know what I mean.

Early last year I read Lennox's The Heart of the Night, which revolved around two young women in the lead up to and during the Second World War.  Friends to begin with, but then adversity broke them part, each went her separate way and had to deal with a variety of trials and tribulations, affairs of the heart and matters of the world.  Of course there was lots of tension along the way and a fair amount of heart ache.  No matter the difficulties and the moments of wondering if things really were going to turn out okay; well, in the end they did turn out okay. 

The same could be said of The Winter House, though the stories and situations are quite different.  The winter house is where Robin, Maia, and Helen come together to share their dreams and hopes for the lives that are ahead of them and so full of hope.  The First World War is over.  Robin has just moved from London to Thorpe Fen where the family has relocated as her brother Hugh's nerves were ruined in the war.  Unhappy to be exiled to the back of nowhere she meets beautiful and ambitious Maia, and the local rector's proper daughter Helen at school.  The story opens just as the three are leaving school and ready to take on the world.

Each will get her desire, or some form of it anyway, but each will pay a price along the way.  Robin gives up her place at Girton to return to London with a passion to change the world.  Maia wants to marry a very rich husband in order to secure her future happiness.  And Helen wants nothing more but than to have a family of her own to care for.  The rollicking Twenties move quickly into the Thirties filled with social inequality and hardship.  Robin meets and falls in love with a young man who is apparently as idealistic as she is but ultimately not as driven.  Maia gets her big house filled with so many trinkets but an abusive husband in the bargain.  And Helen's possible suitors are all shot down by her widowed father whose own loneliness means he wants her all to himself.

This is all simplifying the story somewhat as, like The Heart of the Night, it's a story that is written with broad brushstrokes covering time and lots of distance.  It may have followed a fairly predictable arc, but it was well done and Lennox surprised me a bit by what she had to say about identity and loneliness and expectations that raised it just a notch above pure escapist fiction.  The years between the two wars (and one of my favorite periods to read about by the way) is the backdrop, though the action which culminates with the Spanish Civil War is pretty firmly tied up with the story.  This, of course, piques my curiosity to read more about the Spanish Civil War, but I'll keep that at the back of my mind before undertaking anymore spur of the moment reading projects. 

So this was another satisfying read by Judith Lennox.  I've got several of her other books handy for when I'm again in the mood for a little comfort reading (all too often for me).  Taking a look at my stacks I've got All My Sisters (Edwardian drama), Middlemere (family drama), Before the Storm (begins in 1909 and continues through WWII), and my most recent acquisition, Catching the Tide (set in Italy from the 1930s through 1960s).  She tends to write often about the interwar period, so if it's of interest to you, do search her out.

Tales of the City by Armistead Maupin

It's not surprising that Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City was first serialized in The San Francisco Chronicle.  The story is made up of short chapters that are episodic in nature and have cliff hanger endings that leave the reader curious for more.  This was an undemanding read in that it moved swiftly and easily yet at the same time demanded my attention to find out just how the many dramas that began with the arrival of Mary Ann Singleton would untangle themselves by story's end.  It's both light hearted and serious, or I should say that matters of the heart and of identity and all the other myriad problems that come with being an adult are treated in a way that make you smile yet tug inside just a little bit because they are problems that are so readily identifiable.

"I remember this guy.  He usually dressed like a clone in flannel shirts and Levi's 501s, so he must have thought that a loosened knit tie would make him look more journalistic.  He had just moved into a cottage in the Castro, having bounced between Russian and Telegraph Hills for most of the Seventies.  For five years, off and on, he'd been writing a column for the morning newspaper that was, in effect, a story without ending.  He wrote columns on carbon paper, keeping one copy and delivering the other to the newspaper office, often in a frantic last-minute dash in his Volkswagen convertible.  There were times when he was barely two days ahead of his readers.  Like them, he was waiting breathlessly for what would happen next--but counting on his life to provide it."  (From an essay by Maupin in the addition material at the end of the story).

This story without ending is spread out over eight books, and while the ending of Tales of the City is satisfying enough to tide me over for a while, I do plan on picking up More Tales of the City eventually.  Mary Anne Singleton is but one of a large cast of characters, mostly interrelated in some way with each other.  What is it one character says in the story...no one is actually from San Francisco...  But San Francisco is certainly one of the most loved and vibrant characters in the novel.  Mary Anne is from Cleveland and after a short stay, where she feels already so at home, she decides to stay.

"She came to the city alone for an eight-day vacation.  On the fifth night, she drank three Irish coffees at the Buena Vista, realized that her Mood Ring was blue, and decided to phone her mother in Cleveland."

She moves to 28 Barbary Lane and tries to make her way in the world, or at least in the city of San Francisco.  Whether she accomplishes this or not is at times questionable.  You know that famous opening line, "The past is another country.  They do things differently there"?  That couldn't be more true than in Tales of the City.  The story is steeped in the culture of the place and the era of the 1970s.  From the welcome note (complete with a joint)  taped to Mary Anne's door from the mysterious landlady Anna Madrigal, to using both the local supermarket and laundromat as pick up spots, to cross-dressing nuns on roller skates at Halloween, cultural markers abound.  You always know where you are, and there is something sort of comforting in that even if the world is so very different now. 

Anna Madrigal is the thread that connects the varying characters.  The daughter of a prostitute, she grew up in a whorehouse but has taken on a new identity.  She is a woman of secrecy and with a past.  A past that isn't completely revealed by story's end.  She's a groovy, and very hip mother-figure to (most of) the residents of 28 Barbary Lane.  There's liberal Mona who lets her good friend Michael (or as she calls him--Mouse) crash in her apartment after a messy break up.  Brian is the local lothario but without much luck with women.  He has more in common with Michael than he thinks since Michael isn't having much luck with men either.

There's lots about the trials and tribulations of relationships, which actually makes up the bulk of the story since everyone seems to be hooking up or trying to at least.  Mona and Mary Ann work in a family run advertising agency, which shows a different side of San Francisco entirely--the monied side.  But in the end the characters' lives are inextricably linked together creating a panoramic view of the city and its inhabitants.  

All in all it was a very enjoyable read.  I was thinking that it would be fun to read More Tales of the City after I've visited San Francisco and have more of a sense of what it's actually like there.  Surely some remnants of the city as portrayed in these pages must still exist?  I'm hoping to read Dashiell Hammett's The Continental Op, which will give me a different view of San Francisco, I'm sure.  I'm busily trying to finish a few other books, however, so I don't expect to start reading properly until next month. Not sure if I can squeeze in any other San Francisco reads, but you never know.  Tales of the City, though, has certainly put me in the mood to finally visit San Francisco.

By the way--I love the cover of the original dust jacket of Tales of the City, which I had to share above.  It's a pity they don't still use it as it fits the story so well. 

A Tuesday Mishmash of Bookishness

Doesn't this look blissful?  At the beach, reading a book, the ocean just a few feet away.  And it's obviously not swelteringly hot there since she seems to be wearing a sweater.  Maybe this will be me in one month's time when I am in San Francisco.  Shall we have a little comparison?  Yesterday in Omaha the temperature reached 103F (39.4C).  In San Francisco?  Oh, a mere 73F (22.7C).  Where would you rather be?  For myself, I'll choose San Francisco.  And in exactly four week's time I'll be there.  That's going to be my bliss.  Planning is coming along nicely and I have a list of books I'm contemplating taking with me.  Vacation reading takes a lot of thought, you know, and I never scrimp on my reading plans.  I'll share more when the time gets closer.  Can you tell I'm looking forward to my vacation?  No staycation for me this year!  (By the way that's not a UFO hovering above the lady's head--the marks on the card were made from the postal sorting machines).

I've been working hard to catch up on writing about books I've recently finished.  Have you noticed?  I needed a little break, however, but hopefully I'll be back tomorrow to share a little something about Armistead Maupin's delightful Tales of the City.  For today, however, just a very few bookish notes.

You probably already know tomorrow the Booker Prize Longlist is going to be announced.  For some reason prize lists always make me just the tiniest bit giddy with anticipation. I realize that there is a certain amount of subjectivity in judges' choices that comes with these lists, to say nothing about controversy, but I still am always very curious about the books that are being touted as the best of the best.  For me it's a way to discover new books I might want to read.  My reading is pretty varied and a lot of what I read wouldn't ever likely make such esteemed prize lists, but you never know what will appeal.  I'm sure if the list is good I'll be adding a few of the titles to my own reading pile.  You can find a good run down of Booker information here at the Literary Saloon.  Anyone want to venture a guess as to what you think will be on the list?

I'm having a good reading month and finishing lots of books (well, lots for me anyway), hence the backlog in writing about them.  I've been spending time lately with Masuji Ibuse's Black Rain for Caroline's Literature and War Readalong.  The black rain refers to the rain that came after the bombing of Hiroshima.  Why is it that some war books are easier to read than others.  (Not that any of them are easy really).  There are no battlefield scenes in this one, but the imagery is nonetheless horrific.  At first the writing style seemed somewhat detached which made it easier to read, but I'm approaching the middle of the book and it's been very hard to distance myself from the scenes he describes.  I can only read for an hour at a time or so and then need something lighter and less heavy to think about.    

I've also been reading A.S. Byatt's Ragnorak for the Slaves discussion at the end of July.  This is part of the Canongate Myth series, and I am hoping to read more of those titles (they make good companion books for my Greek Mythology reading by the way).  Byatt chose to retell the Norse myth of the destruction of the planet and of the gods themselves, which she juxtaposes with WWII England.  I'm completely unfamiliar with Norse Mythology and may have to do a little extracurricular reading (Edith Hamilton's Mythology, which I've been reading every weekend has a brief chapter on Norse Myths), and then may have to skim the book again to make sure it's all clear in my mind, but I'm enjoying what I'm reading (though still more slightly dark reading I'm afraid). 

Since I've finished a string of books and am working on these few 'obligation' reads (which more or less get to jump the queue in my reading pile pushing the others out of the way temporarily) I've had a chance to pick out a couple of new books (and am eyeing a few others), though I'm not really far enough in them to say much about them yet.  The two latest additions to my reading pile are John Boyne's The Absolutist, which only about thirty pages in promises to be a very good read.  I have a hard time pulling myself away from it.  It's set in post-WWI England.  I'm quite taken with the narrator in that the story he is trying to tell is obviously harrowing.  He's revealing bits of his past very slowly making me want to know just what his story is. 

I've also started Merilyn Simonds's The Holding as my next Canadian author read.  Simonds tells the story of two different women who are distanced by a hundred years.  It's a story of revenge and self-discovery.  Buried in Print recommended Simonds's book The Convict Lover, which I requested from ILL and brought home with me yesterday.  Doesn't this sound good?

"'A letter,' observes Emily Dickinson, 'always seems to me like immorality.'  Letters--intimate and unguarded--can outlive their authors, preserving events, inviting discovery, daring interpretation."

"In 1987, a cache of letters, albums, and clippings was discovered in the attic of a house in Kingston, the bits and pieces of an unknown woman's life.  Among the overflowing boxes and stuffed sugar sacks was a collection of letters from the months immediately after the First World War, a one-way correspondence written in pencil on flimsy paper.  From this careless jumble of papers, there emerged unforgettable characters and an extraordinary story: a convict, a village girl, a penitentiary, and the town that lived in its shadow."

I've got a growing stack of books by Canadian authors, which will come in handy.  I may even have to mine the Giller Longlist from last year (their 2012 Longlist isn't revealed until late in August).

My post is beginning to get unwieldy, so just a couple more mentions (I seem to be able to chat endlessly about books given the opportunity...).  I'll be starting Elizabeth Chadwick's Falcons of Montabard soon.  Litlove and I had talked about reading one of her novels together, and her books are perfect summer reads, so you can't choose a better time than mid-July.  I've been in the mood for some good historical fiction, and Falcons is set in 12th century Jerusalem.  How's that for a change of scenery.  I'm also itching to start either Alan Hollinghurst's The Stranger's Child, A.S. Byatt's The Game or The Virgin in the Garden (yes, I'm sort of in the mood for something intricate), and I've been thinking that to put myself in 'book prize season' mood that I should pick up something appropriate--maybe a book by Anne Enright, Julian Barnes?  Not quite sure on that one.  I've already got a full plate but I can't help myself for being greedy for more.  Well,  not sure about these latter books but they are at the top of my TBR pile at the moment--so there's lots of wishful thinking going on there.

What are you reading this month? 

Mythology: Perseus

This week's reading was about Perseus.  Edith Hamilton notes that the story is on the level of a fairy tale much like Cinderella with her godmother since magic plays a great part in the action.  Perseus never would have managed the adventure completely on his own without the aid of Hermes and Athena.  This was apparently also a much loved story in Greece, and I can see why.  It's packed with lots of adventure and excitement and is really a story of a great quest that surely would have held the listener in rapt attention at the telling. 

In one of last week's stories Pegasus, the winged horse of Bellerophon, came out of an adventure unscathed, though sadly the same couldn't be said about Bellerophon.  Pegasus, I read last week, was made from the spilled blood of a Gorgon, the famed Medusa.  While there is no mention of Pegasus here, I've finally met the monstrous Medusa.  I always assumed Medusa was a woman (and she is), but Caravaggio's version of her is decidedly masculine, don't you think?  Now that I've a number of myths under my belt I can see a pattern emerging and am learning what whims and desires that both the gods and mortals have and what problems they encounter when they try and sidestep their fates.  

Once again the hero is put in harm's way in order to handily get rid of him without the perpetrator getting his hands dirty or maddening the gods.  But when the oracle has spoken and fate has made known the outcome of an action, well, there's just no way around it however sneaky one tries to be.

Maybe if King Acrisius hadn't wanted a son so badly and gone off to Delphi to ask the god what his chances were of siring a boy were, he wouldn't have ended up in the trouble he later found himself in.  Not only was he not to have a son, but the son of his daughter Danaë was destined to kill him.  Bad luck.  The easy way out for the king was to simply kill off his daughter, but the gods do not look kindly upon mortals who murder their kin.  So that was out.  Instead he put her in a bronze box with just part of the roof open to the sky and sunk her into the ground.  How could a suitor find here there?  Easily enough when the suitor is called Zeus.  (I wonder just how many children had had anyway?). 

Danaë kept her son Perseus hidden in her bronze house for as long as she could, but eventually King Acrisius discovered the boy.  This time he put them both in a box and cast them out to sea.  Surely they would be lost for good, but they were found by a kindly fisherman, Dictys.  He and his wife cared for the two.  Dictys's brother was keen on Danaë but not so much on Perseus.  When Polydectes announced his marriage, everyone but Perseus (who had nothing to give) offered a gift to the bride.

Here's where the quest part comes in as Perseus sets off to kill Medusa, the only Gorgon who was mortal and could be killed, and bring back her head.  An interesting nuptial gift, but they did things differently in ancient Greece.  It's all a bit roundabout at this point in the storytelling, in order to kill Medusa Perseus must have three special things in his possession--winged sandals, a magic wallet, and a cap that would make him invisible.  The Nymphs of the North had what he needed, but to find the nymphs he must first ask the Gray Women for directions.  You might be familiar with the Gray Women (without realizing it).  They share one eyeball between them.  It's almost humorous to think about Perseus taking their eye, which he did by waiting until one was handing it off to one of the others.  With much consernation they were willing to tell Perseus anything in order to get their eye back.

Once he had the three gifts from the nymphs in hand as well as a special sword from Hermes and a polished shield from Athena, he was ready to battle Medusa.  He had only to make sure he didn't look at her for if he looked into her face he would instantly turn to stone.  The feat is accomplished without much difficulty and Perseus even manages to bring back a fair maiden, Andromeda, with him. 

Here's where the ironic part comes in.  Remember King Acrisius?  When Perseus finally returns to Greece, the king is nowhere to be found.  Just when you think all is well and the King is safe, Perseus decides to take part in an athletic competition.  When Perseus threw the heavy discus it struck the King who happened to be a spectator and knocked him dead.  So you see, there is no escaping your fate.  At least in Ancient Greece!

Next week: the story of Theseus. 

Hetty Dorval by Ethel Wilson

Okay, so I really like Canadian author Ethel Wilson.  I've added her to my list of authors whose work I want to continue exploring (read that as a 'must read all her books' now statement).  She is definitely one of my best finds of the year so far.  I was impressed by Swamp Angel but was unsure what to expect of her debut novel, Hetty Dorval, which was published first in 1947 and has most recently been reissued by Persephone Books.  I was pleasantly surprised by it, however.  With barely a hundred pages to flesh out a story, Wilson does a masterful job of it creating one of great depth and subtlety.  Of course I should have known better.  If Persephone Books has deemed it a worthy book to add to their lineup of titles, it's pretty much a given that I'm going to be in good hands with this author.

The story of Hetty Dorval is told through the eyes of Frankie Burnaby who first encounters the sophisticated Hetty when she is just a young girl growing up in the small town of Lytton in British Columbia.  It's with a sense of wonderment and attraction that she views Hetty. 

"Through the years in the various times and places in which I came to know Mrs. Dorval, I never failed to have the same faint shock of delight as I saw her profile in repose, as it nearly always was.  I can only describe it by saying that it was very pure.  Pure is perhaps the best word, or spiritual, shall I say, and I came to think that what gave her profile this touching purity was just the soft curve of her high cheek bone, and the faint hollow below it.  Also the innocence of her slightly tilted nose, which afterwards I called in my mind a flirt's nose, and the slight droop of her mouth, whose upper lip was perhaps a little over-full."

Frankie spends her weeks in town attending school and boarding with a local Lytton woman and only returns to her family's ranch on weekends.  Her parents are hardworking and respectable people who allow Frankie a certain amount of freedom but with the understanding and assumption that Frankie won't take advantage of her situation.  The Lytton community is, as are Frankie's parents, curious about Mrs. Dorval and her very serious and not particularly friendly housekeeper.  Frankie meets Hetty one afternoon as she is returning to town and is captivated by the glamorous Hetty who takes a liking to Frankie and invites her home.  

Young and perhaps a little naive Frankie is taken with the seductive nature of Hetty who has yet to be joined by Mr. Dorval.  The more time she spends with Hetty, however, the more she suspects that her visits would be frowned upon by her parents and maybe even her friends.  Even Hetty asks Frankie not to tell anyone about their afternoon chats, which sets off a niggling voice in Frankie's mind.  Although few in number Frankie isn't forthcoming about the afternoons she spends at Hetty's home, especially when her mother takes to calling Hetty "the Menace".  Hetty may be charming with Frankie, but there is also something secretive about her as well. 

When Frankie's parents discover she's been spending time with Hetty, they're disappointed and ask her to promise to stay away from Hetty Dorval, which she does but only after one last visit so she can explain.  More disappointment is heaped on Frankie but this time from Hetty, and when she owns up to having saw Hetty one last time, her parents pack her off to Vancouver to complete her education.  Time and again, however, Frankie's path will cross with Hetty's over the next decade or so.  First in Vancouver and then later shipboard when Frankie and her mother are sailing for England she spots Hetty who is always so calm and collected.

Whatever transgressions there are in Hetty's past are only eluded to throughout the beginning of the story.  For a novel as subtle as Hetty Dorval, Wilson is certainly adept at plotting and creating a page turner of a story.  The mystery of Hetty is slowly revealed after much build up and a realization on the part of Frankie that there's more to Hetty Dorval than her fine profile.  Frankie begins her life in a small Canadian town, and when someone as cosmopolitan as Hetty Dorval arrives she's in awe, but as Frankie herself becomes a woman of the world Hetty's grasp on her loosens, and the tables turn when she realizes with how little thought Hetty gives to those around her.

I suspect that Swamp Angel may well be the more sophisticated and perhaps better developed story, but while I really liked Swamp Angel, I loved Hetty Dorval.  Hetty Dorval is a completely engaging story--so much so that once you start reading you won't want to stop.  I could easily pick it up right now and begin reading again and fully expect I would get even more out of the story than I did the first time around.  Wilson is also talented in how she describes the natural world.  The setting is the same as that of Swamp Angel, and it's obvious she has a great love of the region and it shines through in her writing.  

I've already got The Innocent Traveller on my reading pile, which I have borrowed from the library, but if it's as good (and I am told its perhaps her best novel) as Hetty Dorval, I may be buying it as well.  I'll be looking for her other books, though I think she only wrote a handful.  At the moment, however, I'm reading Merilyn Simonds The Holding, and have L.M. Montgomery's The Blue Castle in my reading queue.  This is one reading challenge I may actually complete.   

Dead Scared by S. J. Bolton

I think to fully appreciate the novels of S.J. Bolton you need to have an open mind and a willingness to let your imagination be stretched just a little bit.  I think it's her trademark style to write stories that are not only atmospheric but sometimes just a little over the top.  And while Dead Scared sticks mostly to the mainstream this time around (at least compared to her earlier stories), the creepy factor still figures in heavily.  Like her previous novel, Now You See Me, Dead Scared is akin to a police procedural, but Bolton really puts her own spin on it.  As usual there are lots of good elements wrapped up in the story--suspense, mystery, a dash of romance (am hesitant to use that word--rather there are ongoing relationships she is exploring), and her usual edge-of-your-seat storytelling.

In Now You See Me, Bolton introduced several characters who have returned in her newest for yet another unusual murder case.  This time around nothing is cut and dried.  As a matter of fact it's not really clear at the start that a crime has even been committed.  DC Lacey Flint is a woman of mystery, and as narrators go she wasn't one that I trusted entirely last time around.  I wasn't sure how reliable she was in Now You See Me, and while her motivations are somewhat clearer now, she certainly has a murky past.  In Now You See Me Lacey had the misfortune to be the sole witness to a murder--a woman who had just been stabbed literally dies in her arms.  When the police arrive on the scene they're not sure if Lacey is also a victim, or maybe even the perpetrator.  One of the investigating officers, DI Mark Joesbury, doesn't trust Lacey and is sure she is involved in the murder somehow, but the two are still oddly attracted to each other giving the story a nice tension that is further explored this time out.

I was happy to see the pair return in Dead Secret along with a couple of other characters from an even earlier book.  This newest story takes place shortly after the copycat Ripper murders of the previous novel.  There have been a string of unusual suicides at Cambridge and Joesbury asks Lacey to enter the university as a student to observe the situation.  She's not meant to investigate but only interact with the students and try to get a sense if there is truly something unusual going on or if the deaths have simply been coincidental.  The thing is the deaths seem to straddle a fine line between the two possibilities.  It's not unusual for there to be a handful of suicides amongst the university community, but the deaths (rather the methods) that have caught Joesbury's attention seem to verge on the macabre--not at all your typical student suicide. 

It's the attempted, yet failed, suicide by a young woman in St. John's College that prompts Joesbury to ask Lacey to go undercover.  The suicides have similarities--they mostly are young women who are folding under the pressures of university life, who are depressed and perhaps easily persuaded to take their lives.  And just how they choose to end their lives isn't exactly the norm.  Nothing so simple as taking an overdose of pills.  A young woman lies in intensive care at a local hospital after she doused herself with gasoline and set herself on fire on the student commons.  No one actually saw her do it, yet the clues all point to her having acted alone.  Once afire she stepped into the room where the rest of the student body witnessed her attempt.  It was only thanks to the quick reaction of another student that she remains alive, but barely.

So Lacey takes her room and acts the young, naive and struggling student in order to try and lure out the persons involved in the student's suicide attempt (or possible attempted murder).  Not happy to be simply an observer, Lacey notices that there is something decidedly strange going on in Cambridge and begins to investigate on her own.  Although she's unable to pinpoint whether or not it's online chat rooms preying on the students and helping them make the choice to commit suicide, Lacey does notice that whatever fear each girl had seems to be at the center of what ultimately pushes her over the edge.

No one knows that Lacey is working undercover save for one of the university's psychologists, Dr. Evi Oliver.  Evi played a prominent role in Bolton's earlier novel, Blood Harvest.  Confined mostly to a wheelchair after a skiing accident, Evi is grappling with ghosts of her own as well as a failed relationship that began in Blood Harvest.  Strange things have been happening to her, inexplicable things that no one else should know about, fears that she has kept hidden deep inside from her own childhood are being used to bait her and perhaps push her over the edge as well--just like the other deaths.  Is Evi the next victim?

I've read and enjoyed all of S.J. Bolton's books save one, which I am looking forward to picking up at some point.  I sort of like having one unread book by her on hand to tide me over until she writes another.  Hopefully she'll continue writing about Lacey and Joesbury as they are intriguing characters with flawed pasts and an unresolved relationship, so lots of material to work with there I expect.  As usual with S.J. Bolton--perfect summer reading.

The Chatelet Apprentice

I seem to have a 'thing' for fictional detectives.  Just recently I was falling under the spell of Inspector Montalbano, and then there is the delectable Nicholas Brisbane (if you've read Deanna Raybourn's books I'm sure you'll know exactly what I mean), and I'm very keen on Inspector Thornhill as well (and those are only the first few that come to mind right away).  Maybe they just appeal to my more adventurous side.  I like men with charisma and with intelligence.  Now I can add Nicholas Le Floch to  my list.  He's a very sympathetic character and one you can't help liking as he traverses the murky underbelly of 18th century Paris.  

Jean-Francois Parot is, from what I understand, hugely popular in his native France, and The Chatelet Apprentice is Parot's first Nicholas Le Floch mystery.  I love the cover illustrations of the books by the way.  They're elegant and sophisticated and to me have a certain French flair about them, and for once the cover gives a real sense to what's inside the pages.  The story is smart and atmospheric, though perhaps a little more intellectual than edge of your seat.  If it gives you an idea of how solidly Parot plants his characters in the era--there is even a list of notes in the back of the book.  But after reading it, I felt like I was transported if even for a short while to the Paris of King Louis XV and his courtesan Madame du Pompadour.

Nicholas Le Floch is an orphan of unknown origins living in Brittany in the household of his godfather, the Marquis de Ranreuil, as the story opens.  When the fondness he harbors for the Marquis's daughter is discovered he's sent off to Paris, letter of recommendation in hand, to Ranreuil's good friend M. de Sartine.  Sartine is a magistrate but more importantly an up and comer who has just been appointed by the King as the criminal Lieutenant of the Chatelet Prison.  Nicholas is taken under his wing to work as his apprentice, a job that if handled correctly could mean many opportunities for Nicholas who as a young man is just beginning his career.

Assigned to work directly under Commissioner Lardin, Nicholas also lives in the Lardin household along with the commissioner's second (and much younger) wife and the daughter from his first marriage.  When Lardin goes missing Nicholas is set the task of finding out what happened to him.  To complicate matters the charred remains of a body are found in a trashheap, so a murder is added to his already full plate of investigations.  Are the two connected.  Does the merry young widow have motives that might implicate her in Lardin's disappearance? 

With the aid of the very loyal as well as very savvy police inspector Pierre Bourdeau Nicholas must piece together a very complicated puzzle.  His job is burdened further when M. De Sartine requests Nicholas find and retrieve some very sensitive letters belonging to someone in the very highest echelons of Parisian society, and do so with the utmost secrecy.  The Chatelet Apprentice is an eye opening mystery into the intricacies of a police investigation carried out by a young man of fine intellect, growing experience though moments of self-doubt, as well as a peek into what the Sunday Times calls (and I think their description is apt so must share it here as well) the "casual brutality" of eighteenth-century France.  Where else would the hangman know more about bodies than a medical surgeon?

I really enjoyed The Chatelet Apprentice.  It may not race along at a rapid clip, but I found it a satisfying and thoughtful mystery chock full of just the right amount of period detail.  I've been in the mood for some good historical fiction and this fit the bill perfectly.  It's translated from French by Michael Glencross, and probably the highest praise I can give is to say--had I not known it was translated ahead of time it wouldn't have crossed my mind that it wasn't written in English--the translation is so seamless.  I've got The Man with the Lead Stomach all ready to go and would love to dive in now had I not already started two other mysteries.  But I'm looking forward to reading it soon.  Gallic Books is the publisher, and I'm going to check out the rest of their offerings now as well.