A Work in Progress

Grey Souls by Philippe Claudel

In Philippe Claudel's award-winning novel Grey Souls (Les Âmes Grises translated from the French by Adriana Hunter), the unnamed narrator is a tormented soul.  This war story reads almost like an edge of your seat crime thriller, but it's a bit more subtle than your standard mystery fare.  It has all the elements you would find in any story of suspense, but there is perhaps a greater depth and certainly a moral complexity to the telling of this tale which unravels slowly and is told methodically.

"I don't quite know where to begin.  It's not easy.  So much time has passed and the words are gone for ever.  The faces too, the smiles, the wounds.  Even so, I must try to explain what has been eating at my heart these past twenty years.  The remorse, the questions that have weighed me down.  I must take a knife to the belly of this mystery and plunge my hands inside, although nothing can change what happened."

And with scalpel-like precision the narrator does just that.  He tells the story of a crime that occurred some twenty years earlier when the Great War was in progress.  Just over the hill from his own little village guns could be heard on the front lines and soon soldiers, the wounded, the 'walking dead' would fill the town and pass through. So very near the action yet few of the residents of the town had chance or opportunity to fight.  As a factory town their jobs were deemed necessary to the war effort and therefore they were excused from joining up.  It will lead to animosity to those touched directly by the war, but it doesn't mean the village or its inhabitants will remain unscathed.

The story opens with a setting of the scene.  Village life, and the villagers are described in detail--their rivalries and feuds, their beliefs and peculiarities, all of which build over the course of the story until the climactic, though perhaps not overly surprising end.  And then just a few pages in the crime takes place.  Rather a body is found, that of a young girl pulled from the canal one winter's morning.  Belle de jour, a lovely, sweet, young ten-year-old.  The daughter of a local tavern-keeper, she was well liked and well known and the crime is a shock to the community.

Just as quickly as the crime takes place, the narrator switches gears and shares with the reader more about the village, mostly about its more prosperous residents and their histories as well as his own.  About his wife and married life and what happened to not just Belle de jour but to himself that fateful night when Belle left her grandmother's house but never arrived home.  There are many disparate threads and details which seem to have little to do with the crime initially but all wind together tightly by story's end illuminating intentions, throwing light on culpabilities showing grief. 

This is a war story, however.  War and death are always inextricably linked, but even more so in this story.  Its insidious thread is woven into the fabric of the lives of the villagers whether they want it to or not, whether they fight and die on the battlefield or not.  And it is two soldiers, AWOL, who are caught and condemned for the murder.  Is it chance and bad luck, being caught in the wrong place at the wrong time that ultimately does them in, or did they really have something to do with her murder.  Maybe in the end it does not matter since we are all guilty of something? 

The answers are not simple or clear.  In the confusion of war it's easy to find a scapegoat or two.  And Dadais, the only name (nickname) used to refer to the investigator who tells this story, is battling demons of his own.  In the murky days that follow the death of Belle de jour, tragedy strikes and perhaps the questions that should have been asked were not.  Was enough done to solve the crime and find the real perpetrator?  So many years later the narrator thinks back on the deaths of that time.  He writes and writes, fills notebooks with this story in order to set it straight in his mind.  It all moves around and around.  And that is how this story is told--moving forward and backward in time.

"When I thought I had at last a glimmer of the truth, something else would come along to blow out the light and throw cinders in my eyes.  I had to start everything all over again."

I'm not sure that this quest for truth is as important to the narrator as a sense of exculpation.  For years he has carried with him a sense of guilt--not necessarily for anything he did, but for things he didn't do.  It's a melancholic story, whatever the actual truth, whoever the actual killer or killers.

A childhood friend, in talking with Dadais, tells him:

"Bastards, saints . . . I've never met one or the other.  Nothing's black or white.  And it's the same with souls.  You're just a grey soul like the rest of us."

Grey Souls is a beautifully written story.  It's quite a sad story, though perhaps not in the way you would expect.  The war is ever-present, but it's still mostly off stage where it takes place.  What's important here is the mental terrain Claudel writes about.  The crime is an impetus to write about other things--war, grief, culpability, but it's done in such a smooth way that the story reads easily despite the heaviness of the subject matter.  I will certainly be reading more of his work and can see why he has won awards.  I have two other novels by him on my shelves, which I look forward to.  I read this for Caroline's Literature and War Readalong.  You can read her thoughts on it here. 

Next up is There's No Home by Alexander Baron for September 30.

A Dozen Books to Buy or Borrow

If I am not thinking about a new book to read, I am thinking about an even newer book that I might buy or borrow.  I constantly update my wishlist, which consists of titles either saved online or many little pieces of papers with new books, recommendations or books I read about on blogs that I tuck away into a little notebook that I have for all things bookish.  I probably spend far too much time thinking about books--what I am reading, what I want to read, what I want to buy, what's on the holdshelf for me at the library . . .  That's a lot of books and no doubt it goes a long way to explaining why I have so many books in progress.

Here are twelve more that I will be looking for in the upcoming months to either buy or borrow. 

Bound in Venice: The Serene Republic and the Dawn of the Book by Alessandro Marzo Magno -- "Venice in the fifteenth century is the mercantile and cultural capital of the world. There, the first printers, publishing houses and bookstores open for business. Among the innovators who are driving these new cultural enterprises, one remarkable visionary, Aldo Manuzio, stands head and shoulders above the rest. He is credited with inventing the figure of the modern publisher. Manuzio will publish the first printed editions of the Talmud, the Koran, the works of Erasmus of Rotterdam and classics of the Green and Latin poetry and theater, bringing about a true revolution and the birth of the world." (due out in October).

Silence for the Dead by Simone St. James -- "In 1919, Kitty Weekes, pretty, resourceful, and on the run, falsifies her background to obtain a nursing position at Portis House, a remote hospital for soldiers left shell-shocked by the horrors of the Great War. Hiding the shame of their mental instability in what was once a magnificent private estate, the patients suffer from nervous attacks and tormenting dreams. But something more is going on at Portis House—its plaster is crumbling, its plumbing makes eerie noises, and strange breaths of cold waft through the empty rooms. It’s known that the former occupants left abruptly, but where did they go? And why do the patients all seem to share the same nightmare, one so horrific that they dare not speak of it?"  (due out in April 2014)

The Sun and Other Stars by Brigid Pasulka -- "Set in a seaside village on the Italian Riviera, this irresistible new novel by PEN/Hemingway Award-winner Brigid Pasulka tells the story of a widowed butcher and his son whose losses are transformed into love."  (due out in February 2014)

The Two Mrs. Abbotts by D.E. Stevenson -- "Mrs Abbott is flustered at the thought of putting up a lady from the Red Cross, but is happily surprised when she turns out to be an old friend from her previous life as Miss Buncle, infamous writer. Of course, she’s now far too busy with her children to write, not to mention helping out in the lives of the villagers. And with a possible spy in their midst, evacuated families, potential love matches and a visit from a famous writer, she’s got her work cut out for her. Luckily for her, the other Mrs Abbott is around to help."  (due out in January 2014)

This House is Haunted by John Boyne -- "Written in Dickensian prose, This House Is Haunted is a striking homage to the classic nineteenth century ghost story. Set in Norfolk in 1867, Eliza Caine responds to an ad for a governess position at Gaudlin Hall. When she arrives at the hall, shaken by an unsettling disturbance that occurred during her travels, she is greeted by the two children now in her care, Isabella and Eustace. There is no adult present to represent her mysterious employer, and the children offer no explanation. Later that night in her room, another terrifying experience further reinforces the sense that something is very wrong."  A potential RIP read? 
(due out in October)

The Sundial by Shirley Jackson -- "Before there was Hill House, there was the Halloran mansion of Jackson’s stunningly creepy fourth novel, The Sundial. When the Halloran clan gathers at the family home for a funeral, no one is surprised when the somewhat peculiar Aunt Fanny wanders off into the secret garden. But then she returns to report an astonishing vision of an apocalypse from which only the Hallorans and their hangers-on will be spared, and the family finds itself engulfed in growing madness, fear, and violence as they prepare for a terrible new world."  (due out in January 2014)

Island Summers: Memories of a Norwegian Childhood by Tilly Culme-Seymour -- "Glittering and bittersweet, Island Summers lovingly portrays three generations of women and the island that became so irrevocably part of their lives. Now Mor-mor’s great-grandchildren are taking their turn, enjoying endless summers on Småhølmene, continuing the story that was begun over fifty years ago."  (due out in September)

O My America: Six Women and Their Second Acts in a New World by Sarah Wheeler -- "
In O My America!, the travel writer and biographer Sara Wheeler embarks on a journey across the United States, guided by the adventures of six women who reinvented themselves as they chased the frontier west."  Maybe there is hope for me yet.  As in, reinventing myself that is.

Flappers: Six Women of a Dangerous Generation by Judith Mackrell -- "Glamorized, mythologized, and demonized, the women of the 1920s prefigured the 1960s in their determination to reinvent the way they lived. Judith Mackrell’s Flappers: Six Women of a Dangerous Generation explores the ethos of that restless generation, starting with its first fashionable acts of rebellion before World War I and continuing to the Wall Street crash of 1929, discovering what exemplified the range and daring of the flapper spirit." (due out January 2014)

The Valley of Amazement by Amy Tan -- "Amy Tan’s The Valley of Amazement is a sweeping, evocative epic of two women’s intertwined fates and their search for identity, that moves from the lavish parlors of Shanghai courtesans to the fog-shrouded mountains of a remote Chinese village."  (due out in November)

Back to Back by Julia Franck -- "Julia Franck's German-Book-Prize-winning novel, The Blindness of the Heart, was an international phenomenon, selling 850,000 copies in Germany alone and being published in thirty-five countries. Her newest work, Back to Back echoes the themes of The Blindness of the Heart, telling a moving personal story set against the tragedies of twentieth-century Germany." (due out in December)

Bellman and Black by Diane Setterfield --  Am I the last person to discover that Setterfield has a new book coming out?  "Caught up in a moment of boyhood competition, William Bellman recklessly aims his slingshot at a rook resting on a branch, killing the bird instantly. It is a small but cruel act, and is soon forgotten. By the time he is grown, with a wife and children of his own, William seems to have put the whole incident behind him. It was as if he never killed the thing at all. But rooks don’t forget . ."  (due out in November)

Always good books to look forward to!  (And this is just a sampling from my list(s)!)

A Story Quest . . .

It's just a little too warm here to do more than read or think about reading.  I was going to write about the books I've been dipping into this past week or so, but I don't think I have the energy, so this is going to be an interactive post of sorts.

Although I am in the midst of a number of really great stories (have already started a couple of  my RIP reads and am nearing the end of a few other really good books--I'll share more about those later), there is always one corner of my brain that is already thinking ahead to the next book.  You know how much of a mood reader I tend to be, so this is the story that has been forming in my mind that I want to read.

Something British.

Contemporary (or 20th century anyway....and wasn't I just looking for a good historical novel....hmm).  Maybe a family drama--something along the lines of a comedy of errors.

Nothing too terribly dark or dramatic.

Not a war story.

A dash of romance is okay.

What I have in mind is something along the lines of a book by Dorothy Whipple (though a little less melancholic) or something like Family Roundabout by Richmal Crompton of The Fortnight in September by R.C. Sherriff or maybe even Greenery Street by by Denis Mackail (is there a pattern here...a Persephone-like story?).  I could reread one of these books, but with so many unread books out there, something new would be nice.

I wouldn't mind a story set in a crumbling mansion.  Or a country house manor?  A cottage?

So far the books that have come to mind are The Young Clementina by D.E. Stevenson and Consider the Lily by Elizabeth Buchan.  Has anyone read either?  I have yet to read D.E. Stevenson, but I hear she is very good. 

I know I am a little weird, but sometimes thinking about reading, the anticipation of a possible new book, is a pleasure all its own.

Suggestions welcome.  I think I will kick back, put my feet up and peruse a pile of possible reads.

**I think the painting above is most definitely not a tropical beach!  The weather here is very tropical at the moment with little relief in sight.  I was hoping my upcoming long weekend would be pleasant and coolish, but apparently I am not going to be so lucky.  The temperatures for the next couple of days here are projected to be very close to 100F/38C (and that is not even the 'feels like temperature which will be even hotter and more unpleasant--icky sticky). 

Then again, maybe I should pick a book set somewhere cold.  Maybe even the Arctic.  Or at least a country house novel set in the colder North of England or during winter!

By the way, I have often thought how fun it would be to compile a book made up of lists of readalikes or thematic lists of types of stories . . .  Maybe someday I will and that is how I will make my millions.  If only.

R.eaders I.mbibing P.eril VIII: The Book Pool

I usually start thinking about Carl's annual RIP (Readers Imbibing Peril) reading event sometime about June!  Aside from the promise of cooler weather (summer has returned to the Midwest with a vengeance this week, however, but I know it will pass eventually), and the coming of Fall--my favorite season, I love ghost stories and novels of suspense and mystery.  I've had a mental list of reading possibilities going now for a while and when I put pen to paper and started jotting them down realized I had a rather long list of books to choose from.  I've winnowed it down a little, but still have far more books than I will have time to read.  Still I hope to make a little dent in the list.  It's good to have lots of choices, and as RIP goes from September 1 to October 31 maybe I will manage more than I think.

I'm opting for Peril the First, which is to read four books over the course of the next two months, as well as Peril of the Short Story.  I've also got several story collections lined up to dip into.

My pool of reading possibilities includes:

The Man in the Picture: A Ghost Story by Susan Hill -- " . . . a haunting tale of love, loss, and the very basest fear of our beings."  The story involves a painting , which to stare at is very dangerous--and the unseen demons it hides. 

The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald -- This is a Puffin classic (juvenile literature).  "Princess Irene has discovered a secret winding stairway in the castle.  It leads to a bewildering labyrinth of unknown passages with closed doors - and a further stairway.  What lies at the top?  Meanwhile, the miner's son Curdie overhears a fiendish plot by the goblins that live below the mountain.  But with the help of Irene's magic ring, can they top the goblins' terrifying plans in time?"

Joyland by Stephen King -- "A riveting story about love and loss, about growing up and growing old--and about those who don't get to do either because death comes for them before their time."

An Inquiry into Love and Death by Simone St. James -- "In 1920s England, a young woman searches for the truth behind her uncle's mysterious death in a town haunted by a restless ghost . . ."  Last year I read her first novel, The Haunting of Maddy Clare.

Hangsaman by Shirley Jackson -- "Chilling and suspenseful, Hangsaman is loosely based on the real-life disappearance of a Bennington College sophomore in 1946."

The Truth About Unicorns by Bonnie Jones Reynolds -- "The author ties events, families, and witchcraft together so deftly that her book is fascinating.  I could hardly put it down until I knew how it all came out." --Cincinnati Enquirer.  This is a Felony & Mayhem book and their "whose likely to like this?" notes--fans of Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery".

The Haunted Looking Glass by Edward Gorey --This is Gorey's selection of his favorite  "tales of ghosts, ghouls, ans grisly goings-on."  There are stories by Charles Dickens, E. Nesbit, Bram Stoker, Wilkie Collins and L.P. Hartley to name a few.  This is a library book--when I looked it up in the catalog I only noted the title and that it had a selection of classic stories.  I didn't realize until I pulled it from the shelf that it is an NYRB Classic and that Gorey illustrated it.  I am trying to decide whether this will be one of the story collections I randomly dip into or whether I should  just start at the beginning and read my way through!  I might even have to order a copy since it is such an attractive book!

The Greatcoat by Helen Dunmore -- Set in the East Riding of Yorkshire in 1952 this is a ghost story concerning an RAF pilot.  I think it has been a popular book and has made the rounds in the last year or two.

The Haunted Hotel & Other Stories by Wilkie Collins -- The title story is actually a novella and the other eight shorter stories of "disturbing scenarios, which include ghosts, corpses on the move, family curses and perhaps the most unusual of all, the Devil's spectacles.''  By the way, the novella is set in Venice!

I'll save my stack of story collections for Sunday. 

I'm very excited by my list of books (and story collections) and can't wait to start reading.  As a matter of fact I think I won't wait until September 1 but will dive in right now.  It's just a matter of deciding where to start!

Are you going to 'imbibe a little peril', too?  If so, what do you plan on reading?

Three Novellas: Hardy, von Kleist and Gogol

Although each novella is worthy of a post all its own, I'm afraid I might never get caught up if I keep making plans to write them (and then don't).  So, my last three Melville House novellas read are going to be lumped together today.  I wish I could find threads of commonality to unify my post, but other than each being written in the 1800s, at least two of the three being a lesser work of the author, and two being comic tales--one rather on the absurd side, the one thing that all are are shorter works by classic authors.

Sadly, my experience of Thomas Hardy's work is limited to Tess of the D'Urbervilles, not a particularly happy story, but a fine one in my estimation.  Perhaps what keeps me from reading more is the generally bleak outlook that is so often associated with his work (I know not all his books are so dark).  It was quite a surprise, then, to read his 1879 novella, The Distracted Preacher.  While not without a hint of moralizing to it (and what self-respecting Victorian novel doesn't have a little of that?), it is indeed a somewhat comic tale.

What is a young preacher to do when confronted with a beautiful woman whose nocturnal activities are mysterious and questionable?  Mr. Stockdale, a Wesleyan minister, has arrived in the small village of Nether-Moynton to temporarily fill in for the resident preacher.  He takes up lodging in the household of the "comely" Mrs. Lizzy Newberry, a very young widow.  Although hospitable she's often dashing about, busy attending to other duties that she mysteriously won't identify or remark upon.  Mr. Stockdale, being an eligible bachelor with a suitable profession and income has designs upon Lizzy, but he can't seem to pin her down.  He sets about unravelling the mystery that is Lizzy Newberry--where does she go at night, just who does a muddy man's overcoat belong to, and when he finds out, will he give her secret away to lawmen who have been interested in surreptitious activities occurring along the coast?

"Poor Stockdale was dreadfully depressed all the next day by the discoveries of the night before.  Lizzy was unmistakably a fascinating woman, but as a minister's wife she was hardly to be contemplated.  'If I had only stuck to father's little grocery business, instead of going into the ministry, she would have suited me beautifully!' he said, sadly, until he remembered that in that case he would never have come from his distant home to Nether-Moynton, and never have known her."

What's a man to do?  Follow his heart or his vocation?

Heinrich von Kleist's The Duel is one of five "Duel" novellas in the Art of the Novella series.  I suspect that by the time I finish with this year's subscription I will have read most of them (and will read them all eventually in any case).  This is my first encounter with Henrich von Kleist and won't be my last.  I'm afraid I don't know much about him, though I believe he is known for his shorter fiction works.  I think this 1810 novella is one of my favorites so far of the novellas I have read, which surprises me as I wasn't quite sure what to expect.  Not least as the action takes place during the fourteenth century and von Kleist takes as his subject the "inscrutability of God".  It sounded all heavy and moralistic.  A dark story perhaps but it does, however, have a happy and properly fitting ending.  I have a feeling some of his other stories are better/better known, but this has been as good a place as any to start with his work. 

The duel in this story is known as a "trial by ordeal", which means the victor has God on his side and truth (though not necessarily justice).  In reality it is chance and ability and really the victor can only claim luck, though we're talking about the Medieval mentality here where God is a guiding presence in everyone's life.  It's God's will that whoever wins is meant to win.  The duel arises in a twisty manner, which is what I liked so much about this story--the complexity of how it unravels.  It begins with a political murder.  The likely culprit appears to have an airtight alibi, but it comes at the cost of besmirching the reputation of a noblewoman.  In Medieval times a woman's honor was all she had.  To claim something as contemptible as sexual impropriety out of wedlock means she will be abandoned by all, friends and family alike.  Luckily for Littegarde, however, her most loyal friend defends her in the only way he can--calling the accuser to a duel.  I won't give the ending away, but I will say it is a rocky way to clear one's name of a crime.  What happens if the victor also ends up being the liar?

" . . . no amount of wisdom could possibly make sense of the mysterious verdict which God intended through this duel."

*****

"Foolish boy, don't you know that a duel may not be fought twice--not for the same purpose, not after a judge deems it settled, and certainly not to repeal God's verdict."

Last year Caroline wrote about this story, shedding light on it in an interesting way--by describing von Kleist's death.  I have another of his novellas already lined up to read.

My introduction to Nikolai Gogol's work has been through the 1835 novella How the Two Ivans Quarrelled which is another comic story, but this one verges on the absurd.  This is a story of what happens when two lifelong and close friends take a quarrel to the extreme.  And worse, it all came about because one of the Ivans called the other a "goose".

Actually there is more to the quarrel than simple name calling.  Gogol goes into great detail describing the two Ivans who live next door to each other.  "They are such friends as the world never saw."  One July afternoon the servant of one of the Ivans was laying things out on the lawn in order to air them.  Amongst the clothes there is an unusual but in the eyes of one of the Ivans a splendid things--a  gun.  He likes it so much that he wants it.  His friend, however, is not willing to part with it.  Ivan offers his friend a number of things in return for the gun--a sow, two sacks, not empty sacks mind you--but two sacks filled with oats.  An argument breaks out that results in a heated verbal exchange. 

"Kiss your sow, and if you don't like that, then go to the Evil One!"

"Oh, get angry now, do! See here; they'll stick your tongue full of red-hot needles in the other world for such godless words.  After a conversation with you, one has to wash one's face and hands and fumigate one's self."

"Excuse me, Ivan Ivonovitch, my gun is a choice thing, a most curious thing, and besides, it is a very agreeable decoration in a room."

"You go on like a fool with that gun of yours, Ivan Nikiforovitch," said Ivan Ivanovitch with vexation, for he was beginning to get really angry.

"And you, Ivan Ivanovitch, are a regular goose!"

If Ivan Nikiforovitch had not uttered that word they would not have quarrelled, but would have parted friends as usual; but now things took quite another turn.  Ivan Ivanovitch flew into a rage.

Of course things escalate over time.  One Ivan builds a goose shed right up against the property of the other.  Both bring suits against the other.  A sow of one eats the paper with the accusation written out for the court of the other.  And you wonder how wars are started! 

It all verges on the extreme and the ludicrous, but how many times has this happened between friends and worse among family members.  Ludicrous it may be, but not so far from reality really, and guess that is Gogol's point.

I'm not sure I have entirely settled on my next novella, but at the moment Fyodor Dostoevsky's The Eternal Husband is sitting on my nightstand.

Short Story Sunday: Last Persephone Stories

I've spent the better part of this year reading Persephone Books #100, The Persephone Book of Short Stories.  It would have been fitting had there been one hundred stories, but even with only thirty I feel like I have gotten my money's worth out of this volume.  The stories are arranged chronologically by the year each was published.  Quite a few of the authors included in the collection are Persephone authors, so if there is a story  a reader particularly likes, there may well be a corresponding book somewhere in the Persephone catalog.  A few stories I had read before, but many were completely new to me (either story or author and sometimes both).   

It's interesting to think where I started and where I have finished up.  I was thinking that I might be able to recognize trends and subject matter, as I read the stories in the order they appear in the book (though it's not really required--a reader could easily dip into the stories in any sort of order).  In some cases it's obvious the concerns on an author's mind depending on which year/decade they were written.  The first story, which I read all the way back in January, was written in 1909 and concerns a young woman just beginning her career and the man she believes she loves.  It's a story of unrequited love.  But my how time has passed and how far I have, as a reader, have traveled considering the last story, which I will briefly describe below.

This past week I read the final four stories.  Aside being on a roll, I was ready to finish reading and prepare to move on to my ghost stories and general tales of murder and suspense (next week!), so it's time to wrap up here.  I usually read and write about the story fairly close together, so hopefully I'll be able to remember something about each story I can share.

First up is Diana Athill's "The Real Thing" published in 1958.  I like Diana Athill.  I liked her when I read Stet, a memoir of her years in publishing.  But I think I like her fiction equally as well.  And this might well be one of my very favorite stories in the whole collection, not least since it was so pleasing to read.  It's a story of growing up, first experiences, first crushes.  It's quite nostalgic and shows a different side to domestic life.  It's not a story of a woman beaten down by time and circumstances but a story of a young woman just starting out.  It felt fresh and alive and appealing.  There was that moment of epiphany for a young girl growing up that was really pleasant to read about.  

I had already come across Elizabeth Spencer before in a lost in the stacks post, so it was nice to finally get a real taste of her writing.  "A Bad Cold" published in 1967 is another story that is lighter and even a little playful.  It's another domestic situation, but it's a story of a married couple who enjoy each others' company and after years of being married and despite the daily worries and small preoccupations find they are still in love with each other.

I've not read nearly enough of Penelope Fitzgerald's work (though I loved The Bookshop) and didn't even realize she wrote short stories.  Her 1983 story, "World Apart" is set some time after WWII.  A Polish refugee takes up residence with a seemingly widowed mother and her daughter, renting a room from them.  Punctilious and unobtrusive, he's no bother.  He also seems to be "almost as a definition of loneliness".  Another story of love or attraction, a story of a woman not used to behaving in quite such a way.  It's a story of a woman with secrets, who normally conducts her life sensibly until someone comes along and shows her a different way of feeling.  A bit melancholic things are open-ended in the end making me wonder just how their lives turned out.

If over time some stories fade from memory and I need to look back on my posts to recall what each was about, I think Georgina Hammick's 1986 story, "A Few Problems in the Day Case Unit" is going to remain with me for some time and quite vividly.  This is a very 'in your face' sort of story and one that made me uncomfortable and even at times squirm along the way.  And it is not through lack of understanding or sympathy, but from actual experience that I occasionally shuddered along the way as I read.  Probably every woman has a horror story or two when it comes to visiting the gynecologist.  Lettice Pomfrey has her fair share--mishandled, prodded and made to feel like a task that needs to be completed rather than a patient deserving of time and sensitivity.  Yes, that is what this story is about!  In vivid detail as a matter of fact.  It did make me shudder, and despite the uncomfortable nature of the story, it's actually quite brave of Hammick to write about it. 

It's quite a journey from first story to last.  So many subjects and situations are written about--nearly every aspect of a woman's life and what better collection than this to reflect the range of topics that Persephone Books deal with. 

If you like short stories, or you like the sorts of stories Persephone Books publishes, I highly recommend this collection.  I've thoroughly enjoyed my weekly forays into the pages of this book.  It was a little sad to turn the last page, but I am sure I'll find some other worthy (short story) reads to fill my Sundays.  For September and October, prepare to hear about a few ghost stories or stories of crime and suspense.  I have yet to pull my anthologies out (this week!), but I am ready for a few chills and thrills.  Now if the weather would cooperate (I can do without these near 100F/37C days personally), I could slide very easily into Autumn-mode!

A Grave Talent by Laurie R. King

With mystery novels it is often a toss up which I like best (or which works best in a particular story)--the mystery, the atmosphere and setting or the characters.  Of course the best mysteries have all three elements working together to create a really compelling story.  Laurie King's A Grave Talent is an impressive first novel, and it won her an Edgar Award for her efforts.  It has all the right elements in just the right combination, which is what I've come to expect from King's writing generally and she usually knows just how to deliver. 

Although she is probably best known now for her Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes mysteries, which I have been slowly reading and enjoying, she wrote five mysteries featuring Kate Martinelli, a rookie detective paired with a more seasoned cop.  Although I've had this first book in my mystery collection for years, the timing was finally right as the setting is San Francisco, where I'll be going in just over a month now.  Mood reading I guess you might call this.  And it certainly did put me in the mood!

When the bodies of several children are discovered in a small, closed community outside of San Francisco, the clues point in the direction of the residents whose homes cluster loosely around an area known as Tyler's Road.  California and certainly San Francisco is known for its diversity and open-mindedness, and the individuals who populate the neighborhood (which I visualized as less a small town than a more rustic area set in the countryside, dirt track roads with lots of natural space between dwellings) are if anything eccentrics and free thinkers.  Which of them would be capable of such atrocities?

When it comes to light that one of the residents, an artist, was convicted and served time for murdering a child, naturally all eyes turn in her direction.  When she's questioned about the murders, she's calm and collected and mostly resigned to the attention falling her way.  As a matter of fact the detectives are surprised by her reaction--no nervous exaggeration, only a vague amusement, but no fear, which in a woman who had spent nine years in prison was a strange thing.

It turns out that she isn't just an ordinary artist, but she's world famous, known for the barriers she's broken and the waves she's made in the art world.  Her works are admired, studied, and make the viewers uncomfortable with their raw intensity.  An artist of international renown who is driven by her talent, which is not always seen so much as a gift but as a burden.  Living under a changed name, she stays well out of the limelight and her history is not generally known by most of the other residents on Tyler's Road.

This investigation is Kate's (Casey's) first chance to prove herself as a detective, a recent promotion from the ranks, and she's paired with Alonzo (Al) Hawkins who's not terribly pleased to deal with someone with so little experience.  She's driven, however, in both her personal and professional lives.  And she's determined to keep them well separate from each other, too. 

"It was no easy job, being a police officer.  For a woman it is an impossible job, fitting into the masculine world of the station while retaining her identity as a woman.  For a woman to be a street cop she must, from the first day in police academy, create a clear picture of what is required of her, and stick to it without wavering: she must be tough but not coarse, friendly but not obsequious, unaggressive but ready without a moment's hesitation to hurl into a violent confrontation."

Al comes to have a deep respect for her work and abilities, though the two are fairly cautious around each other initially. Al has his own baggage he carries with him and Kate is determined to show no vulnerabilities keeping a hard shell around herself emotionally.  But their working styles click and the move along at a nice pace ferreting out clues and evidence, which sheds light on just who the murderer really is.  When Vaun Adams nearly dies, is it an obvious suicide due to a guilty conscious or is she being set up by someone with something awful to hide. 

This is an impressively intricate mystery with a moral underpinning to the crime and solution.  As well, Kate and Al, and Vaun for that matter are all well developed and nicely rounded characters with many layers of psychological complexities to them.  There's a lot going on in the story but it's all tightly woven together, and when you finish reading you really feel as though you've been somewhere, if that makes any sense at all.  I like Kate, she's an interesting character and one I can see who has the potential to grow and flower. 

And yes, the setting.  While most of the action takes place outside of San Francisco, there are just enough references to set the scene and set the tone.  There is also a marvelous chapter that takes place on the island of Alcatraz, which I visited last year (and am planning on returning to in October) and King perfectly captures the mood of the place.  What better than to move the story along (and this is one that takes its time to build but then picks up the pace and the momentum at the end takes over) by setting climactic scenes on an Alcatraz which saw so many incarcerated.  Very atmospheric indeed.

I've got To Play the Fool on my reading pile and the question is only whether to read it now in anticipation or save it for when I am in San Francisco.  This second mystery is set in Golden Gate Park.  I'm happy to see that the first book is being reissued with a new jacket design (much nicer and more fitting) early next year.  It's only a pity that there are only five books in the series, but I've got lots still to explore and then there is always Mary Russell, who I (as fictional characters go) very much admire.  I'm also waiting for The Bones of Paris to be released next month, which is set in Paris in 1929.  I'm ot sure if it is a standalone or the first in a new series, but I am already in line for it at the library. 

This Week's Reading (or, More Notes)

Once again it's a little too warm and I am a little too tired to think very hard.  So tomorrow Laurie King's A Grave Talent and today let me share what I'm reading at the moment.  At the beginning of the month I was feeling sort of directionless and out of sorts with my current reads, but I've been concentrating on a smaller pile of books and have been enjoying them all immensely (mostly anyway).  I might not read as much as I had hoped this month (and when am I ever really satisfied with how much I get to read?), but at least I am settled well into them.

Okay, so let's start with Charles Palliser's The Quincunx.  I have, of late, a really bad track record when it comes to Big Books.  This isn't as big as some others I have read, but weighing in at over 800 pages it's big enough.  I admit I have been dragging my feet a little bit with it.  It's an engaging story and when I am reading I am enjoying it, but if I let it sit for a few days it risks the possibility of languishing.  I already have too many languishing books and I want to stop the trend of not sticking with long books (well, and short ones, too for that matter), so I have been paying extra attention to it this week.  Had I not joined Buried in Print in reading this I think I might quietly have set it aside, but reading along with someone always helps me stay motivated. 

In case you are not familiar with it, it is a Victorian pastiche, a story of which Dickens would be proud.  It concerns a widowed mother and her son who become, as the story unfolds, ever poorer.  They hold a codicil to her grandfather's will that more than one relative wants to get their hands on.  The thing is, like any good Victorian story, this is a riches to rags story (I hope their riches are eventually restored!) and one where every bad thing that can happen to the two seems to happen.  I have finally (nearly 300 pages into the story) become privy to the content of the codicil and things are tripping right along.  I think it is the endless chase and unpleasant things that is wearing a little thin.  But I am nearing the end of a section and so am optimistic that Something is going to Happen soon.  I do hope so.  In any case, I've done the math.  A mere five pages daily will ensure that I finish the book by year's end.  I hope to finish sooner than that, and have been reading more than my 'required' five pages, though.

I'm really enjoying Philippe Claudel's Grey Souls, which I am reading for Caroline's Literature and War Readalong.  Now here is an author where I ask myself--why have I not read his work before?  I'm making myself slow down and enjoy the story and the writing style.  He's a French writer, so I don't know what his work is like in the original, but the translation must be good since I am finding it so hard to put down.  Although the setting is WWI France (though he moves around in time), the war mostly happens off stage (am at the midway point now).  This reads more like a murder mystery since at the heart of the story are two deaths, but it is at least as much about memory and perception.  There is lots of reflection.  An unnamed (as yet) narrator.  Lots of questions that keep me reading and wondering and hoping to find out the answers.  And the narrative moves in a languorous almost meandering way, but I like it, since it moves so smoothly.  I'm going to dig out the other books by him I own.

I've been working on Peter May's The Lewis Man, which is the second book in his Lewis Trilogy.  I just discovered that the third book, The Chessmen, has recently been released in paper, so I was prompted to get moving and pick up the next in line.  I loved The Blackhouse, which I read last year.  I was surprised by how easy it was to pick up the thread of the story where it left off.  It wins a prize for most atmospheric setting by the way. 

Hilary Scharper's Perdita is another compelling read and one I might just end up calling a favorite this year.  Whimsical is not exactly the word for it--it reads a little like a fairy tale almost.  You have let go any preconceptions of what reality should be.  There are two storylines going, one set in the present and the other in the 19th century, which is told through diary entries.  I'm not yet sure who Perdita is, but the diary-keeper is a woman named Marged who claims to be 134 years old.  Her diary begins in 1897 when she is only fifteen and living on a Canadian peninsula, where her family takes care of a lighthouse.  All sort of favorite storytelling and setting elements that I love is going on here.  And there are mythological references, which I love, too.  I think I might have to order her other book, which is a collection of short stories called Dream Dresses.

And Mary Stewart's Airs Above Ground is my lunchtime reading material.  I really like Mary Stewart.  She is pure and utter comfort reading.  If I let myself, I would inhale this story.  It's easy reading (and I mean that in the nicest possible way) and a story you can lose and wrap yourself in.  The setting is Vienna, and there is something of a mystery about the circumstances that Vanessa March finds herself in.  I was fortunate enough to have lived in Austria for a year many years ago, so there is a nice familiarity to the setting, which (silly as this sounds) makes me feel all warm and tingly.  Both the story and the setting! 

My reading pile is going to increase by one as I don't think I can pass up Cornflower's next Cornflower Book Group choice, Jane Gardam's Crusoe's Daughter.  I own a lovely Europa Editions edition and have already pulled it out and I'm ready to start reading.

I have several 'almost finished with this' books on my night table as well, and will begin cycling them in as soon as I finish a few.  It feels so much better to have settled myself in a few good books with more good ones on the horizon (and I have even got back to doing a tiny bit of needlework each morning, too).  There is something about reading that restores my equilibrium.  Thank goodness for books with good stories, yes?! 

August 21: Reading Notes

Just miscellaneous reading notes today--in no particular order.  After the really lovely autumn-like teaser we've had for the last few weeks, summer has decided it is not after all finished, so it is warm and toasty where I live.  I can never concentrate too hard on hot and humid days! 

I am hoping, however, to spend the rest of the week catching up on 'proper' bookish posts.  I never feel as though I am really finished with a book until I have written something about it, though there are a few that have fallen through the cracks and too much time has passed for me to corral my thoughts successfully, so they are going to have to remain there (in between the cracks that is).  Maybe I'll do some sort of wrap up post a bit later. 

After my mystery and crime binge I had this summer, especially reading so many short stories, I was inspired to begin a subscription to Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine.  I'm anxiously awaiting arrival of my first issue and do hope I get that September/October double issue.  I subscribe to far too many magazines, but sometimes they are so cheap it feels as though they are practically giving them away.  And I do like finding something interesting in my mailbox (aside from bills, which are not at all interesting).

My trip to San Francisco is now seven weeks and a day away.  Not that I'm counting or anything.  I have already mentally packed and am even working on a list of potential books to take with me.  I guess it's too early to be thinking of reading material (or is it?), but part of the excitement of a vacation is the anticipation and planning that goes into it, right?  The list changes weekly of course, but at the moment possible contenders include something by Mary Stewart (last year I read This Rough Magic when I was in San Francisco), something by Lisa Unger (I have never read her work but her books seem like perfect vacation/plane reads--pure thrillers/suspense stories), maybe a mystery (today's menu includes Georges Simenon, Andrea Camilleri or Liza Marklund--though the more I think of these books the more I want to read one of them now . . . ), or maybe a short classic (that one might be overly optimistic, but you never know).  I hope to only take two or maybe three books with me--one for the plane there, one for the plane back and one for while I am there.  And then I will probably buy a book or two when I am there, too . . .

Of course with September just around the corner I am already contemplating two months worth of RIP reading.  I hope once again to read a combination of short stories and a novel or two.  I've got a short list going as well (nothing like planning ahead), so the wisest thing would be to try and incorporate this list with  my vacation reads list.  But, we'll see.  (Having two lists means I can be really, really greedy with new books).

I finished reading the last stories in the Persephone collection and will write about them this weekend.  Now the fun part--choosing a new collection to concentrate on.  Really I should be just getting together a pool of anthologies to draw from for my ghost story reading, but I do want to continue on with my regular short story reading as well.  At the moment I have Infinite Riches Classic Stories by Twentieth-Century Women Writers edited by Lynn Knight and A Bunch of Fives by Helen Simpson in mind.  Not sure what I'll pick next however (maybe something entirely different even), as I have a healthy collection of short story collections and anthologies to choose from.   

I brought home from the library a copy of Eleanor Catton's The Luminaries.  It looks really good and I was pleased to see a positive review of it in the TLS (I often lament the fact that reviewers can be so harsh on new books).  But these remarks are very positive (am happy to note).

"Seeing afresh is the dilemma for any writer of historical fiction--working out how to play at pastiche without turning into another camp follower.  The problem is perhaps unsolvable, but Catton's response to the challenge is ingenious."

*****

"Catton makes use of the storytelling repertoire, from the circling patterns of sea and ghost stories to conventions of the nineteenth-century novel (sharing particularly the twinned personalities and identity confusion of Wilkie Collins's The Woman in White, as well as the names of two of its main characters).  It is a work of huge ambition."

I'm ready to crack it open now, but it is a rather massive book and hardcover on top of that.  Another chunky book to carry around with me.  So, to read now or not to read (as in wait for the paperback)? 

And that gives me the perfect opening to my next question.  I am experiencing an overwhelming desire to pick up a good, juicy historical novel.  Not quite sure what sort of story, but not anything set in the 21st, 20th and maybe even 19th centuries.  Preferably paperback.  Maybe something by Sarah Dunant set in Italy or a book set in Revolutionary-era France?  Something even with an older/much earlier setting?  I could go with something easy by Georgette Heyer.  I need to think about it and peruse my shelves--and that's going to mean a stack of possibilities.  There is always The Luminaries sitting there close at hand (what's one more big book?).  Have you read a really good historical fiction novel lately?  Suggestions (as always) welcome. 

I was going to end with a few notes on what I am actually reading now, but this post has gotten too long, so if tomorrow is as warm as today, maybe I'll fill you in then on my current reads.  We'll see how much energy I have!

The Stubborn Season by Lauren B. Davis

"Wasn't it Eliot who talked about a stubborn season?" remarks Harry Madison to Irene MacNeil upon the painful and emotionally draining death of her father.  Harry is handsome, smart, maybe even a little glamorous.  And he takes Irene out of her claustrophobic life, or rather the hopefulness of being with Harry helps Irene look beyond her own limited and closed circumstances. 

Lauren B. Davis's The Stubborn Season, set in 1930s Depression-era Toronto, is the compelling and sympathetic story of Irene MacNeil who strives to find her place in a world fraught with adult anxieties and pressures.  What happens when two lives filled with hope and the expectation of making a successful life together falls short of all their dreams?  For Irene, who is only ten when the story opens, she sees her parents struggle bitterly against the realization that life does not live up to their hopes and wishes for happiness.  And worse that neither finds in the other the satisfaction of marital bliss or even support.

Perhaps if each parent was not battling inner demons, they might have had a better chance.  Or if in an alcoholic daze her father had not accidentally filled the wrong medicine in his little pharmacy.  Irene might have grown up in a more normal household.  She might have had more opportunities.  But Irene must be the glue that tries to bind it all together.  Something no child should be asked to do.  Was there a madness already in her mother that simply floated to the top after so many disappointments, or did a world so filled with problems and anguish push her over the edge?

The MacNeils are probably better off than most.  Douglas's shop, out of which he runs his pharmacy, might have done better had he not always extended credit to those unable to pay.  Margaret runs a tight household but keeps an even tighter grip on Irene, an only child.  But it's clear from the start that things aren't quite right in the MacNeil's home.  It's the madness that makes Margaret keep Irene forever under her thumb.  And it's the alcohol that keeps Douglas numb and immune to the often crazy and controlling behavior of his wife.  No one, no adult, is able to offer Irene respite.  She looks to her uncle Rory, but he's caught up in the workers' struggles and moves from place to place, rarely around to help his sister and her family.

So Irene must make do as best she can and be a caregiver of sorts.  She knows better than to rock the boat--doesn't go out to play with friends, or stay after school.  Church is allowed but then she must come home straight away.  Margaret rarely goes out the older Irene gets.  She realizes that there is a part of her that she cannot control.  She tries to keep 'Mad Margaret' at bay.  To appear as normal as she can, because she lives in constant fear of being left alone.  Even more so after the death of her husband.  And the potential of a boyfriend is like a minefield for Irene that must be carefully navigated.

Looking back at her father's life after his death she sees how little of him there was.  So few clothes, hung so tidily.  A pair of shoes and a hat.  A desk with papers in one corner of the living room.  The rest of the house is filled with her mother's presence.  When he was alive there were hints of another woman and Irene could only hope that perhaps there was.  That somewhere else he had a fuller life where he made an imprint.  Left with only her mother, Irene must leave school early and try and run the family shop on her own.  She meets Harry through her one friend, and he opens up the world to her.  And she is willing to do almost anything to keep him.  But glitzy and refined as he is, he doesn't represent security.  Like a fancy ornament he is dangled in front of her eyes, but like so much else only to be snatched away.

How does one carve out a life in the direst of circumstances?  This is the question Davis asks in The Stubborn Season.  Despite their faults and limitations the characters are sensitively portrayed.  And Irene is an affecting young woman who must scrabble out of her situation and learn to find and fight for her own independence and happiness which she does with quiet dignity.  Surely it is no accident that Davis sets her story during the Great Depression.  The turmoil represented by Irene's family life is mirrored by the madness and violence of the greater world beset by economic and social woes, and it is played out by a young Jewish man who must leave his Saskatchewan farming community to seek opportunities elsewhere.  David Hirsch's story is interleaved between those of Irene and her family, which Davis deftly draws together in the end.

The Stubborn Season is Lauren Davis's first novel, and a quite impressive one at that.  I've been reading her novel The Radiant City, which is very much a different sort of story--set decades later and in Paris, France.  She is an author I will be keeping an eye on.  This is the first of what I hope will be thirteen books by Canadian authors for the year long Canadian Reading Challenge that goes through next July.  I've also just started Hilary Scharper's Perdita, which is set in Ontario's Bruce Peninsula.  I have lots of good Canadian literature lined up to read!