A Work in Progress

Just in Time for the Weekend: New NF

Choosing a new book to read is important business.  Particularly when we're talking about nonfiction as I tend to just stick with one book at a time.  I loved Ruth Reichl's memoir (have turned down some pages and will share some excerpts that were quite hunger/desire for a good meal-inducing), but for now I think the weekend calls for a little book selection talk.  

This is actually the second pile of books I have created.  I pulled a few books from my bedroom piles, but then I started thinking of some other books that appealed and so went in search for them in my book room and you know how that goes.  Standing in front of bookcases and your eye starts to scan the titles on the shelves and here we go.  Pile number two, which is made up of books that have long sat in piles or on shelves.  I seem to be leaning in a memoir/history (particularly WWII) direction.

A Cross and a Star: Memoirs of a Jewish Girl in Chile, Marjorie Agosin -- "In this unique memoir, Marjorie Agosín writes in the voice of her mother, Frida, who grew up as the daughter of European Jewish immigrants in Chile in the World War II era. Woven into the narrative are the stories of Frida's father, who had to leave Vienna in 1920 because he fell in love with a Christian cabaret dancer; of her paternal grandmother, who arrived in Chile later with a number tattoed on her arm; and of her great grandmother from Odessa, who loved the Spanish language so much that she repeated its harmonious sounds even in her sleep. Agosín's memoir is a moving testament to endurance and to the power of memory and of words."

Kisses on a Postcard: A Tale of Wartime Childhood, Terence Frisby -- "Carefully labelled, and each clutching little brown suitcases, Terry, aged seven, and his elder brother Jack, eleven, stand amid the throng of children which crowds the narrow platform at Welling station awaiting the steam engine which will pull them and their fellow evacuees across the country towards their unknown destination - and their new lives...Warm-hearted and moving, "Kisses on a Postcard" is a vivid and intimate portrait of our wartime history; a compelling and uplifting memoir of growing up in an extraordinary time."

Eight Women, Two Model T's and the American West, Joanne Wilke -- "A blend of oral and written history, adventure, memoir, and just plain heartfelt living, Eight Women is a story of ordinary people doing extraordinary things. Weaving together a granddaughter’s essays with family stories and anecdotes from the 1924 trip, the book portrays four generations of women extending from nineteenth-century Norway to present-day Iowa—and sets them loose across the western United States where the perils and practicalities of automotive travel reaffirm family connections while also celebrating individual freedom."

Millions Like Us: Women's Lives During the Second World War, Juliet Nicholson -- I have read and enjoyed her books before which are very interesting social history.  Once again this appears to be anecdotal pieces.  "In Millions Like Us Virginia Nicholson tells the story of the women's Second World War, through a host of individual women's experiences. We tend to see the Second World War as a man's war, featuring Spitfire crews and brave deeds on the Normandy beaches. But in conditions of "Total War" millions of women - in the Services and on the Home Front - demonstrated that they were cleverer, more broad-minded and altogether more complex than anyone had ever guessed. Millions Like Us tells the story of how these women loved, suffered, laughed, grieved and dared; how they re-made their world in peacetime. And how they would never be the same again ..."  (And I see an extensive bibliography in the back of the book--always a good thing).

Maiden's Trip: A Wartime Adventure on the Grand Union Canal, Emma Smith -- I read an earlier memoir by her about her adolesence (and I have a novel as well that is published by Persephone Books!).  "In 1943 Emma Smith joined the Grand Union Canal Carrying Company under their wartime scheme of employing women to replace the boaters. She set out with two friends on a big adventure: three eighteen-year-olds, freed from a middle-class background, precipitated into the boating fraternity. They learn how to handle a pair of seventy-two foot-long canal boats, how to carry a cargo of steel north from London to Birmingham and coal from Coventry; how to splice ropes, bail out bilge water, keep the engine ticking over and steer through tunnels. They live off kedgeree and fried bread and jam, adopt a kitten, lose their bicycles, laugh and quarrel and get progressively dirtier and tougher as the weeks go by."

A Story Lately Told: Coming of Age in Ireland, London, and New York, Angelica Huston -- "In her first, dazzling memoir, Anjelica Huston shares the story of her deeply unconventional early life—her enchanted childhood in Ireland, living with her glamorous and artistic mother, educated by tutors and nuns, intrepid on a horse. Huston was raised on an Irish estate to which—between movies—her father, director John Huston, brought his array of extraordinary friends, from Carson McCullers and John Steinbeck to Peter O’Toole and Marlon Brando.  In London, where she lived with her mother and brother in the early sixties when her parents separated, Huston encountered the Rolling Stones and Fleetwood Mac. She understudied Marianne Faithfull in Hamlet. Seventeen, striking, precocious, but still young and vulnerable, she was devastated when her mother died in a car crash. Months later she moved to New York, fell in love with the much older, brilliant but disturbed photographer, Bob Richardson, and became a model. Living in the Chelsea Hotel, working with Richard Avedon and other photographers, she navigated a volatile relationship and the dynamic cultural epicenter of New York in the seventies."

The Liar's Club: A Memoir, Mary Karr -- "The Liars’ Club took the world by storm and raised the art of the memoir to an entirely new level, bringing about a dramatic revival of the form. Karr’s comic childhood in an east Texas oil town brings us characters as darkly hilarious as any of J. D. Salinger’s—a hard-drinking daddy, a sister who can talk down the sheriff at age twelve, and an oft-married mother whose accumulated secrets threaten to destroy them all. This unsentimental and profoundly moving account of an apocalyptic childhood is as “funny, lively, and un-put-downable” (USA Today) today as it ever was."

It's sort of funny how you think you know what you want to read but when faced with a bookcase full of books, other books leap out at you.  The joy of choosing.  And with July soon approaching, it will be time for a new prompt (I guess June's book is going to overlap with July's . . .).

Reading Japan: Update

Ito Ogawa's The Restaurant of Love Regained is a curious and unusual read.  A story that subverted my expectations and wandered into the realm of the sensual and fantastical.  It reminds me of novels by South American writers who dabble in magical realism.  The premise made me think of a cozy story of love lost and found (or if not love found at least a sense of contentment)  and the delights of food as way to heal emotional wounds.  There was something of all that, but, too, there was more than a touch of the foreign and exotic that bumped up against my western sensibilities and 'fear' of the 'trying the unknown' (and here I mean--Japanese cuisine).

Rinko has been unceremoniously dumped by her Indian boyfriend.  She returns home to find her apartment emptied of everything she held dear to her life save a vase (she had tucked away in a closet) of rice bran (fermented vegetables) she used in her cooking.  There is nothing left but to return to her home village and her mother, a place she left as a schoolgirl.  She finds she has been replaced by her mother with a pig named Hermes, but her mother offers her a space where she can do the one thing she is good at--cook. 

Rinko has lost her voice, but not her talent to prepare meals as special as they are restorative to their diners.  With the help of an old friend who had worked at her school, she sets about transforming a shed of her mother's into a special place, The Snail, where she will prepare just one meal a night tailored to the person or couple who have booked the table.  And it is a magical experience, one that, mostly anyway, makes dreams come true--restores life and love and gives happiness.  

It's a lovely story, bittersweet in some ways, and for me anyway, quite different from the stories I am used to.  Of course, I am indeed virtually traveling here by way of stories, and Japan is a culture that is still quite foreign to me.  So where my experience of western culture butted up against eastern culture, I do admit, there were some meals that did not appeal to my own sensibilities.  I can't fault the author for that however, it just gives me a glimpse of the unknown.  The universal appeal, though, is the redemption she finds by returning home and reconnecting with her mother.

While I might forego a few of the meals she prepared, I will say I wouldn't mind a version of the fruit sandwich she makes for one of her customers.  She bakes a perfect raisin bread, on which she spreads a thin layer of melted milk chocolate then perfectly whipped cream and topped with pears at just the perfect moment of ripeness.  

If you are looking for something a little bit different, a story that will be both familiar and yet foreign you might try Ito Ogawa's story.

I am ready to pick up another novel but I am first concentrating on two mysteries.  I am mostly spending time with All She Was Worth by Miyuki Miyabe, published in 1992 and named a best novel and best mystery of the year in Japan.  I really like the detective in the story, Shunsuke Honma, who is off work recuperating from an accident.  He is a single father of a young son who has agreed to look into the disappearance of a woman.  She is the fiance of his deceased wife's cousin.  It turns out to be like dropping down the rabbit hole as it is a case of stolen identity.  The mystery is to find out who the two women are and which or maybe whether both women are dead.  I am really enjoying this as it is a puzzle with, again, the slant of being both familiar yet foreign.  There is a lot about Japanese culture in the story and I hope to write more about it when I finish.

On temporary hold is Seicho Matsumoto's most acclaimed novel, Points and Lines which was written in 1958.  Another puzzle of the Agatha Christie class.  This is an unusual mystery--a couple is found on a beach, dead.  It appears they have committed a love pact suicide.  But something is not quite right. The pair were spotted on a train together yet the woman got off and only much later met back up with the man and shortly thereafter they were found posed and dead.  It might come down to a four minute window of opportunity when their express train was waiting to pull out of the station--just moments before and after the departure and arrival of two other trains.  Sound tricky?  I know all the facts are there but I have not sussed things out yet.  I can't wait to get back to it.  Now I want to read more of Matsumoto's books, and he was quite a prolific writer, but I think there are only a small handful translated into English and easily available.  Also, some of his books have been filmed, about which I will share more later.

Slowish progress in my Japanese reading, but all quite satisfying and I have a stack more (bought and borrowed) to explore.  Since it is going to be far too hot to be outside for the coming week, I plan on armchair traveling to Japan!

In Anticipation of Reading

I never need an actual excuse to pick up a new book, but it does work out nicely when I can tie a book I am eager to read with an event.  I was psyched to hear that Jennifer Egan is coming to Omaha for a free lecture at a local gallery.  They often offer cultural events for the community and I need to take advantage of them as they are free very often.  The author will be here July 18 and I have already registered for the even.  And, as you see, pulled my copy of Manhattan Beach out (it had already been sitting quite near the top of my bedside table anyway).  It has now become my 'next book' since I am just pages away from finishing Anthony Quinn's Freya (definitely going to be one of my top ten of the year, by the way).

I read a number of Toni Morrison's novels a very long time ago (when I was in college) and I think it is time to revisit her work in anticipation of seeing the forthcoming documentary about her.  You can see the trailer for the movie here.  Which book to read, however.  I could only get my hands on a few of the books on my shelves--things have been shifted so much in my book room that I am not quite sure where the others are, but it has been so long since I read them, anything I choose will be like reading for the first time in any case.  I'm into the theme of female friendships lately, so Sula seems a good choice.  I really need to reread Beloved, too.  And then there are all the other books that she has written that I never got around to picking up or adding to my book collection.  It's exciting that she is the subject of a documentary coming to the big screen!

And, yay, book mail.  This showed up in my mailbox last week.  The folks at Titan Books kindly sent me a review copy of Rebecca Alexander's newest mystery which is coming out next month.  I really enjoyed her first book, A Baby's Bones, so have been eagerly awaiting her follow up novel.  A Shroud of Leaves features archaeologist Sage Westfield.  The first book was set on the Isle of Wight, and perhaps this one is, too.  I shall be picking up the book soon so will find out shortly.  It seems a perfect follow up to the Ruth Galloway mystery I just read.  

And then--the bookish flavor of the day?  I have this curious desire to pick up one of the William Trevor books I bought a few years back.  Sometimes some book or author will just pop in my head (or I will read something and it will inspire me to think about a book or author) and there is nothing for it, but to pull a book off my own shelves.  

You know how it goes--thinking about books (new books I want to read soon) is almost as good as spending a whole afternoon reading books (at least it is when you are stuck working rather than sitting and reading).  Is it too soon to be thinking about the upcoming long Fourth of July weekend?

June 21: Reading (Cactus) Notes

Remember my new cactuses?  Such cute little plants?  

Here we are almost a month later.  I can't decide whether they are progressing nicely or waving their (leaves?) at me in consternation.  The jade plant is the one I am worried about.  Following the advice of the lady at the nature center I clipped the top of it off as it was leaning towards the light (as in--it was not in the best situated window and needed more direct sunlight).  The idea was that it would expand out rather than go gangly up.  So I moved him to my south facing bedroom window and he promptly has dropped a couple of leaves.  I am a little worried about him now.  It is interesting that he has lost the color on the tips of his leaves.  I want to trim that top bit off and make him a little more even, but I am afraid to mess with him.  

However my little succulent (I am not sure what variety she is) seems to be doing okay.  I think she got a couple of little sunburns?  But otherwise she seems to be reaching for the fun and getting a little taller, though I don't think she has grown any new leaves.  I am trying to err on the side of drier soil rather than overwatering.  I wish they could tell me when they needed a little water.  I have bought some cactus fertilizer that I plan on mixing up this weekend.  Maybe that will help?

Cactus woes aside, I am enjoying my reading and have finished a few books (and hope to finish a couple more this weekend), which means I have been thinking about what to read next.  I need to catch up a bit on writing about those books I have recently read, but I'll save that for next week.

I thoroughly enjoyed the Elly Griffiths novel that I finally got around to and loved Lettice Cooper.  My Japanese novel reading of Ito Ogawa's was really interesting--Japanese magical realism perhaps will give you an idea of what it was like.  This weekend I am going to spend time with Anthony Quinn's Freya, which had been set aside for no good reason other than too many books on the go and it happened to be a chunky read, but now I am totally immersed in the story.  And I fully expected to like Ruth Reichl's writing and indeed she is a marvelous storyteller.  I want to read all her memoirs and anything else she has written.  So I will be in the land of foodies, though she writes about growing up and her family and travels and studies and many delicious-sounding meals as well as 1960s London with Freya.

And next?  That is the difficult question.  The Cooper is the Persephone Books edition, so I was thinking it is time to pick a Virago Modern Classic.  I have never read Elaine Dundy's The Dud Avocado (my copy is a VMC), so I might pull that from the shelf, but since I'll be perusing my VMC bookcase, who knows what I will end up with.  (Or maybe something entirely different). 

As for the Quinn, I thought when I finished Freya I might just pick up another of his books--Our Friends in Berlin, which looks like a good spy novel, or maybe something entirely different like Rebecca Makkai's The Great Believers which I have been eyeing for a couple of weeks now.  I have been thinking of picking up one of my unread Sarah Waters or maybe the last Pat Barker novel--the third of her Life Class trilogy. 

I have not even started to contemplate a new nonfiction (since I try and stick with one only at a time, it is always an almost agonizing choice--silly, I know).  I need to whittle my mysteries down (I have a thriller, and two Japanese crime novels on the go), but I did pick up the next Kinsey Millhone book.  I am up to L is for Lawless now.

Such "difficult" (but only in a good way) dilemmas to have.  What are you reading (or finishing maybe) this weekend?

Masks by Fumiko Enchi

There are some books that are meant to be read slowly and deliberately and sometimes meant to be read multiple times.  In the case of Fumiko Enchi's Masks, both are true, but I will add that in this case there are other works to read and study alongside the text that will only enhance the enjoyment and meaning. 

Enchi is really a remarkable writer and I am not sure I would have picked this book up had I not set out to read Japanese literature in particular this summer.  In the past I've not really been drawn to that part of the world as either a real or bookish destination.  Not one that I searched out anyway rather than simply by chance.  Maybe it has always felt so foreign (and not just in the literal sense).  The language feels a little bit impenetrable to me and the culture unlike anything else I have ever encountered. 

I am finding that the more I read and look and watch (I have been watching quite a few films by Yasujiro Ozu as well--and he is amazing) that the more fascinated by it I am.  Watching Japanese films alongside my reading has given me a visual reference that has been really helpful.  The Ozu films have covered the years of the first half of the twentieth century in Japan, so I hope to expand and watch more contemporary films, too.  

So I have read the novel and have set it aside to let it percolate and hope that as I read other books that I can return to it later with a better understanding of the culture and history and literature to make a second reading (I hope sometime later this year) better.  Just a few things now, however, to tidy up my experience (and to come back to later).

Fumiko Enchi is, according to the Dictionary of Literary Biography I referenced, one of those most renowned in Japan.  She won more postwar prizes than any other woman writer.  She wrote not only novels, but plays, essays and translations of Japanese classics into the modern language. 

"She associates sexuality-and, in her later works, the problems of aging-with self-identity and self-expression, and she thus exposes the hidden world of women who have been taught to suppress such feelings and needs."

Her father was a Japanese linguist and professor at Tokyo University.  She was the youngest child and apparently "at the center of her father's affection", which meant she spent much time with him in his study surrounded by literature and scholarly works.  Her grandmother on her father's side told her bedtime stories from the Edo (1600-1867) period, and interestingly both exposed her to Kabuki plays.  Her mother wanted her to have more ladylike hobbies and must have shook her head at such a bookish daughter.  Enchi also read Japanese classics like The Tale of Genji and the works of Junichiro Tanizaki (both are on my reading wishlists).

Considering her background and early literary influences it is not surprising then, that Masks, such a slim story is quite rich in Japanese culture and literature in the telling.  The novel is split into three sections, each title references the masks used in Noh dramas.  The story is essentially a revenge tale at its most basic.  it is about a wife wronged by her husband and seeks retribution via her own daughter.  Sounds complicated and a little messy?  It is, but interwoven are references to The Tale of Genji and the meanings behind those Noh archetypes.  It is not impossible to read the novel and understand it without prior knowledge of the literary references, yet an inquisitive reader will be drawn to learning about those deeper meanings.  I don't feel equipped to tackle a reading of all these things, but I do want to share those masks with you.

The first section is "Ryo No Onna" which means "spirit woman".  This is represents the spirit of "an older woman tormented beyond the grave by unrequited love". 

The second section is "Musagami" which means "that of a young woman in a state of frenzy".

The third section is "Fukai" which means "deep well" or "deep woman".  The mask is meant to show a middle age/mature woman who understands the inevitability of death.

Spoilers here.  So, it all follows.  Mieko, a writer, the mother/mother-in-law has been wronged by her husband.  Her son has died in a mountain climbing accident, but her daughter-in-law, Yasuko, still lives with her.  Also, Mieko's daugher, Harume (a twin of Yasuko's deceased husband), who was born with intellectual disabilities, is cared for at home.  Yasuko is a love interest of not one man but two who happen to be friends--one a psychologist and the other a university professor.  I won't try and go into details or try and describe some of the nuances of the story, but Mieko and Yasuko sets up one of the men to unknowingly sleep with her daughter Harume.  The intent is to carry on the bloodline of her lover over her husband who had been unfaithful but at a very tragic cost.  The set up of the man is dreamlike and otherworldly and he does not realize he has slept with someone other than Yasuko, so you can see (though I am not explaining it well) the use of the Noh masks in describing the arc of the story.  

I borrowed a couple of books about Noh Masks that were very helpful in discussing Noh Theater and the meaning of the masks (which are used in the plays but seem to be somewhat interchangeable depending on who is staging the play) as well as offering lots of great visuals: The Secrets of Noh Masks by Michishige Udaka and a wonderful two-volume set, Heaven Has a Face, So Does hell: The Art of the Noh Mask by Stephen E. Marvin.

I want to try one of Fumiko Enchi's other works, but I will be choosing carefully as I suspect another book will only branch off in many other directions.  What I most loved about this reading experience is getting a feel, though barely dipping in a toe, of what classic Japanese literature and culture is like.

And Speaking of Library Books (on my list)

A note about the comments on my posts--I am not sure where they have gone.  I am assuming there is an issue with Typepad at the moment.  They are still there on the backend of the blog--I can see them in my list when I am logged in, but for some reason there is only a link to "view comments" on the public side, but when you click on it, nothing happens.  Hopefully the problem will be resolved soon (and I will reply as soon as they are viewable again).  Sorry about that if you wanted to leave a comment!

Since I have been thinking about library books--and that pile I have at home.  I should really be more discriminate when adding new books to my queue.  Rather than just get in line immediately I should just add it to my "later" list, but where is the fun in that?  I was looking at my account and trying to see if there are books I should save for later, but then there are so many that look good and I want to get my hands on soon.  Here are ten books I am really looking forward to.

Our Little Secret by Cate Holahan -- "The glass beach house was supposed to be the getaway that Susan needed. Eager to help her transplanted family set down roots in their new town―and desperate for some kid-free conversation―she invites her new neighbors to join in on a week-long sublet with her and her workaholic husband.  A taut, locked room mystery with an unforgettable cast of characters, One Little Secret promises to keep readers' eyes glued to the pages and debating the blinders that we all put on in the service of politeness."

The Secrets We Keep by Lara Prescott -- Women spies is a hot topic in books these days (and I am all for that!).  "A thrilling tale of secretaries turned spies, of love and duty, and of sacrifice--inspired by the true story of the CIA plot to infiltrate the hearts and minds of Soviet Russia, not with propaganda, but with the greatest love story of the twentieth century: Doctor Zhivago."

Commute: An Illustrated Memoir of Female Shame by Erin Williams -- "In Commute, we follow author and illustrator Erin Williams on her daily commute to and from work, punctuated by recollections of sexual encounters as well as memories of her battle with alcoholism, addiction, and recovery. As she moves through the world navigating banal, familiar, and sometimes uncomfortable interactions with the familiar-faced strangers she sees daily, Williams weaves together a riveting collection of flashbacks. Her recollections highlight the indefinable moments when lines are crossed and a woman must ask herself if the only way to avoid being objectified is to simply cease to draw any attention to her physical being. She delves into the gray space that lives between consent and assault and tenderly explores the complexity of the shame, guilt, vulnerability, and responsibility attached to both." 

Delayed Rays of a Star by Amanda Koe Lee -- "At a chance encounter at a Berlin soirée in 1928, the photographer Alfred Eisenstaedt captures three very different women together in one frame: up-and-coming German actress Marlene Dietrich, who would wend her way into Hollywood as one of its lasting icons; Anna May Wong, the world's first Chinese American star, playing for bit parts while dreaming of breaking away from her father's modest laundry; and Leni Riefenstahl, whose work as a director would first make her famous--then, infamous.  From this curious point of intersection, Delayed Rays of a Star lets loose the trajectories of these women's lives."

The Fountains of Silence by Ruta Sepetys -- I have not yet read any of her books, but this one sounds very promising.  "Master storyteller Ruta Sepetys once again shines light into one of history's darkest corners in this epic, heart-wrenching novel about identity, unforgettable love, repercussions of war, and the hidden violence of silence--inspired by the true post-war struggles of Spain.  Includes vintage media interstitials, oral history commentary, photos, and more."

The Right Sort of Man by Allison Montclair -- The first book in a new mystery series--because you can never have enough of those, right?  "In a London slowly recovering from World War II, two very different women join forces to launch a business venture in the heart of Mayfair―The Right Sort Marriage Bureau. Miss Iris Sparks, quick-witted and impulsive, and Mrs. Gwendolyn Bainbridge, practical and widowed with a young son, are determined to achieve some independence and do some good in a rapidly changing world."  Yes, a death and then investigation ensues.

Time After Time by Lisa Grunwald -- This sounds like fun and I can't wait until I get my hands on it!  "On a clear December morning in 1937, at the famous gold clock in Grand Central Terminal, Joe Reynolds, a hardworking railroad man from Queens, meets a vibrant young woman who seems mysteriously out of place. Nora Lansing is a Manhattan socialite whose flapper clothing, pearl earrings, and talk of the Roaring Twenties don’t seem to match the bleak mood of Depression-era New York. Captivated by Nora from her first electric touch, Joe despairs when he tries to walk her home and she disappears. Finding her again—and again—will become the focus of his love and his life."

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern -- I really (still) need to read her first book . . .  "Zachary Ezra Rawlins is a graduate student in Vermont when he discovers a mysterious book hidden in the stacks. As he turns the pages, entranced by tales of lovelorn prisoners, key collectors, and nameless acolytes, he reads something strange: a story from his own childhood. Bewildered by this inexplicable book and desperate to make sense of how his own life came to be recorded, Zachary uncovers a series of clues--a bee, a key, and a sword--that lead him to a masquerade party in New York, to a secret club, and through a doorway to an ancient library hidden far below the surface of the earth."

Searching for Sylvie Lee by Jean Kwok -- Another much anticipated book.  "A poignant and suspenseful drama that untangles the complicated ties binding three women—two sisters and their mother—in one Chinese immigrant family and explores what happens when the eldest daughter disappears, and a series of family secrets emerge.  It begins with a mystery. Sylvie, the beautiful, brilliant, successful older daughter of the Lee family, flies to the Netherlands for one final visit with her dying grandmother—and then vanishes."

A Single Thread by Tracy Chevalier -- I went through a huge phase of reading her books.  I think I missed the last few, but this one is definitely on my wishlist.  "1932. After the Great War took both her beloved brother and her fiancé, Violet Speedwell has become a "surplus woman," one of a generation doomed to a life of spinsterhood after the war killed so many young men. Yet Violet cannot reconcile herself to a life spent caring for her grieving, embittered mother. After countless meals of boiled eggs and dry toast, she saves enough to move out of her mother's place and into the town of Winchester, home to one of England's grandest cathedrals. There, Violet is drawn into a society of broderers--women who embroider kneelers for the Cathedral, carrying on a centuries-long tradition of bringing comfort to worshippers."

So many good books.  I know what I'll be doing this weekend--reading, seeing a few movies (and continuing on with season one of Killing Eve, which has been hugely addicting) and a stop by the bookstore (where I might anxiously just buy one of these books on this list if I find I can't wait a moment longer?).  Happy weekend reading everyone.

DIY Library Loot

Do you check out your own library books?  The library where I work does not have self-checkout stations, but my public library has had them for a while.  I only recently started using them.  I think my branch was the last one to move the "hold shelf" from behind the Circulation Desk to the main area (hence--why use self-checkout when nearly all my books were new books that were being held for me).  Not so long ago I was standing in a long line at the circulation desk when it dawned on me--why not just go and do it myself?  Now, silly as it sounds, I kind of like hearing the little machine chirp when I check out my books.  (Such power!).

I actually have a pretty healthy and very steady pile of library books at home, but these are my most recent selections.  I have a pretty poor record of late when it comes to actually reading what I am bringing home.  It is such a crazy cycle and I am not sure why I do it to myself.  I am lured by the new, but then reality sets in.  I always have a good stack of my own books on the go at home that when I bring big hardcovers I have to really want to read the book to add it to my in-progress pile.  I really do want to read all of these, but I tend to peruse library books at home, then think longingly of them (surely just one more to the reading pile is okay), but waffle for so long that the due date looms and I know I will never it get it read in time so just lug them back.  Sometimes I will buy the book (though I almost always just wait for the paperback) or get back in line.  Sometimes I will start the book and occasionally I will start and finish it.  

But I can't help myself.  I have to look at all the new books and maybe dip in randomly a little and at least get a taste.  What I will be perusing for the next few weeks:

In Love with the World: A Monk's Journey Through the Bardos of Living and Dying, Yongey Rinpoche -- This sounds wonderful and if I am lucky I will try and renew it--"In this powerful and unusually candid account of the inner life of a Buddhist master, Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche offers us the invaluable lessons he learned from his near-death experience. By sharing with readers the meditation practices that sustain him, he shows us how we can transform our fear of dying into joyful living."

The Last Stone, Mark Bowden -- Apparently Laura Lippman used this as inspiration for her novel What the Dead Know (which I listened to on audio some time ago--and it remains one of my best ever audio book experiences).  ". . . a rigorous documenting of the 40-year journey taken by Montgomery County detectives and the cold-case team that interrogated Lloyd Welch. It's a riveting, serpentine story about the dogged pursuit of the truth, regardless of the outcome or the cost. And it's a useful reminder that in an age of science, forensics, and video and data surveillance, the ability of one human being to coax the truth from another remains the cornerstone of a successful investigation."--NPR.

The Electric Hotel, Dominic Smith -- I have a fascination with silent films so would love to get to this one.  "For more than thirty years, Claude Ballard has been living at the Hollywood Knickerbocker Hotel. A French pioneer of silent films who started out as a concession agent for the Lumière brothers, the inventors of cinema, Claude now spends his days foraging for mushrooms in the hills of Los Angeles and taking photographs of runaways and the striplings along Sunset Boulevard. But when a film history student comes to interview Claude about The Electric Hotel―the lost masterpiece that bankrupted him and ended the career of his muse, Sabine Montrose―the past comes surging back. In his run-down hotel suite, the ravages of the past are waiting to be excavated: celluloid fragments in desperate need of restoration, as well as Claude’s memories of the woman who inspired and beguiled him."

Underland: A Deep Time Journey, Robert Mcfarlane -- A big chunky book that has more than a little heft to it.  And well it should.  "Hailed as "the great nature writer of this generation" (Wall Street Journal), Robert Macfarlane is the celebrated author of books about the intersections of the human and the natural realms. In Underland, he delivers his masterpiece: an epic exploration of the Earth’s underworlds as they exist in myth, literature, memory, and the land itself."

So many good books out there.  Why does everything sound so appealing to me?!

June 11: What I'm Reading Notes

What do you do when you have a most compelling stack of in-progress books, almost any of which you could pick up and happily lose yourself in?  I mean, how do you determine which to read when they are all really good?  In my case it is a massive reading dilemma choosing which goes into my bookbag each morning.  I find myself starting with just a few that I know I can rotate and dip into over the course of the day, but then I start second guessing myself and what I will be in the mood for and end up tucking in just one (okay sometimes two) more books. 

I curse myself at the end of the work day as I lug that bookbag home.  I know I should just pick the two books that I am closest to finishing and work on them and simply work my way through the pile until I am finished.  Of course on the horizon are the books I have been thinking about--the books I plan on starting as soon as I finish X.  I have been meaning to catch up on my reading here, so here goes.  (with an occasional musing over which book might come next).

Let me start with the mysteries/thrillers that seem to be sprouting.  I am nearly finished with the second Ruth Galloway mystery, The Janus Stone by Elly Griffiths.  I like Ruth.  I like how she doesn't fret over her looks and enjoys good food and hanging with her cat yet still has a number of men who flock to her side when she ends up in the hospital.  One is a former lover, one a friend and the other a potential love interest.  Spoiler here--the cliffhanger in the first novel is that at the end of the story she discovers a one night stand has ended up with her in a rather sensitive condition.  She has been pulled into another murder investigation when a skeleton--that of a child whose head is missing--turns up on a construction site.  Since she is a head forensic archaeologist the police turn to her for help.  I love the setting, which is on the northern English saltmarshes, which she loves, too.  It seems quiet and a little lonely but beautiful and perfect for a little murder investigation.

I wanted something a little thrillerish and a booklist I recently came across noted Clare Mackintosh's twisty-turny I Let You Go as being particularly effective.  A story with a surprise you don't see coming, which sounds just the ticket at the moment.  A young mother and her son are walking home from school.  Nearly there, she lets go of his hand for a blink of an eye and he is hit by a car, the driver not stopping, but worse speeding up to get away.  She is devastated and filled with guilt.  She, quite unexpectedly, packs a bag and leaves town.  The story is told in parallel by the detective team investigating and Jenna, the mother.  Questions I am asking myself--knowing there is going to be a twist--why did she run.  All the way to the Welsh coast with practically nothing and she pitches her cell phone on the way.  She has secrets.  Did the driver mean to kill them both?  Only her, or only the boy?  What is she hiding--what did she see or do?  Hmm.  

I have one more mystery to share.  I know--pure gluttony on my part and normally I have one lone mystery on the go at a time, but it's summer and anyway, who's counting?  Somewhere or other I came across an article about the Japanese crime writer Seicho Matsumoto, who sounds an awful like Georges Simenon.  Matsumoto was hugely popular in the 60s-70s and wrote literally hundred of books.  Only a few seem to be available in print and translated into English,but one that appears to be a classic is Points and Lines written in the late 1950s.  It involves two lovers who are found dead on a beach, apparently by a suicide pact.  There are train journeys and women in kimonos.  When I read about it, it sounded so perfect for my summer reading project I had to get it, so I requested it via interlibrary loan.  Library books always get to jump the queue.  Since it has to go back to a library (that is not my own) I had to start it as soon as I got it.  So far, I like it very much and I especially like all the little details that give a hint of Japanese culture or geography.

As I already have an array of crime novels/thriller and mysteries in progress I really should not be thinking about what is next.  Kinsey Millhone is next, but it's okay to have a few other ideas in mind.  And summer, for me, means beach books--not really books to read at the beach but stories with a beach setting, so how convenient to come across this list!  Or maybe it is time to return to the Marseille trilogy by Claude Izzo.  I read a couple of his books years ago and should really get back to the next Marseille book.  Or maybe the Philippe Georget novel that I keep picking up and putting down.

I'm having a mini foodie reading fest at the moment, too.  I am thoroughly enjoying Ruth Reichl's memoir Tender at the Bone: Growing Up at the Table.  Complementing it is Ito Ogawa's magical The Restaurant of Love Regained.  Another perfect book for my summer reading.  It really does have a magical feel to it--it reminds me of Laura Esquivel's Like Water for Chocolate.  Food as a restorative--both for body and spirit after the break up of a boyfriend.  Rinko returns home from Tokyo to the mountain village of her mother where she opens a special restaurant where only one meal is prepared each evening.  The narrator also has lost her voice and must communicate through notes and cards she carries with her.  I have a stack of other books by Japanese authors or set in Japan that I have been eyeing for my next reading choice, but I have not yet narrowed them down.  Maybe Julie Otsuka or Yasunari Kawabata.  

I'll mention just one more since this post is getting a little unwieldy.  (I did say I have a Stack of books I am reading).  I have been happily ensconced in the pages of Lettice Cooper's The New House.  I know many of you may have read this and I ask myself why I waited so long to get around to it.  The story takes place over the course of just one day as a family moves from a large middle class home to something much smaller.  You get a sense of a changing England and the world getting smaller for one mother and daughter (though there are actually three siblings and spouses and fiances).  The world, particular for that one daughter, feels as if it is closing in--now so wedged is she at home to take care of her mother as her brother and sister are part of the larger world and expect her to remain at home.  Maddening but so very real.  I think when I finish I will pick up another Persephone or Virago.  Maybe a Daphne du Maurier.  Or maybe something else entirely.  Or maybe a WWI novel by Anna Hope, or maybe Jane Gardam or Mary Wesley--something British--you know the sort of book I mean, I think.  

So, good reading in progress and more good reading on the horizon--anticipation of more to come.  (And then there are library books that I have been neglecting--maybe I should share those as well?).  What good book are you lost in at the moment?

Just So Happens by Fumio Obata

Lately I seem to be very hit or miss when it comes to graphic novels and especially with comics.  I see something that looks potentially really good, but when I start reading it just does not click with me.  I started out strong with the Saga series, but it got a little too weird for me, and as much as I was liking the Papergirls story my enjoyment just waned.  Maybe I will get back to them later, but for now I think I like a story that is more reality based.  Something I can relate to more than it being so fantastical and pure escapism.

So, many thanks to Ms. Smithereens for suggesting this one, Just So Happens by Fumio Obata.  It fits in so nicely with my other reading at the moment, Fumiko Enchi's Masks as well as Monica Sone's Nisei Daughter.  Obata was born in Japan and now lives and works in England.  He is an animator and comic book artist, though this seems to be his only graphic novel.  I want to explore his work--the Guardian called the illustrations in this book "elegant"  and the publisher notes their "delicacy" and I wholeheartedly concur.  I made myself read only a few pages at a time in order to linger over the story and illustrations, but I think now, I need to sit and read it in one slow sitting to take it in as a whole. 

It is beautifully illustrated and indeed elegantly told--very understated.  The prose is quite spare but fittingly so.  This is the story of a young woman who has been living in London where she feels contented and happy--fitting in with this new lifestyle and a true cosmopolitan Londoner.  She is called home to Japan, however, on the death of her father.  It is perhaps reverse culture shock.  She has adapted to her new home and lifestyle but is dropped again into the world of her youth, so different from her life now.  The story is steeped in the culture and traditions of what seems to me a very formal Japan.  

I am only now learning about Japanese culture.  Fumiko Enchi's novel relied heavily on classic Japanese literature and culture and there were many references to the masks used in Noh Theater, which also makes an appearance here.  It is not wholly foreign to me, but I think I don't quite appreciate the references and sentiments behind the visuals.  I have been watching films of Yasujiro Ozu, which are absolutely gorgeous and very evocative.  So, slowly I am taking in aspects of Japanese culture and find I quite like it and feel very comfortable there.

I'll share a few illustrations here as they are so elegant and will give you a small taste of the story.

This is one I will be revisiting and can warmly recommend!

Nisei Daughter by Monica Sone

I wish Monica Sone had written more books, as I would happily read more about her life and experiences.  Her memoir, Nisei Daughter, published in 1953 is easily going to make it onto my favorite books of the year list.  It is one of the best memoirs I have ever read.  If I could, I would press a copy into your hands right now and suggest you read it too.  If you are a fan of memoirs, curious about Asian-American culture, life in Seattle and the Pacific Northwest around the period of WWII or just like good writing and storytelling, I can warmly recommend it.  It is still in print and I imagine very likely will be in many library collections as it is really a classic of the era and Japanese-American culture as well as the immigrant experience.

Nisei is the Japanese word for a first generation Japanese-American.  Sone's parents emigrated from Japan in the early 1900s.  Her father worked as a cook for a while on a ship that traveled between Washington and Alaska.  Her mother came to the U.S.  when she was only 17 and notes that she was still a girl, too young to have had a mature Japanese culture/outlook impressed on her (yet still very firmly Issei--which is the term for those born in Japan but immigrants to America).  She was still a young woman filled with energy and curiosity.  Sone's father had started studying in Japan and wanted to become a lawyer, so was more of an intellectual, though ultimately he become a hotel proprietor in Seattle before the war where the Sone family was raised (monica had three siblings).

The memoir follows Monica (born Kazuko Itoi) from her early girlhood through the end of WWII and her years at a Midwestern college.  There is a happy sense of nostalgia yet the memories are also peppered with the reality of life for an immigrant from Japan at a time in U.S. history where Asian immigrants were very decidedly not welcome (does that sound familiar still?).  In the 1920s there was a law which prohibited Japanese from emigrating to the U.S., so almost a whole generation was barred from entry.  In the introduction to my edition it was noted that there was a gap between Japanese of Monica's parents and that of Monica herself.  So she very much felt an outsider to both cultures.  She was not fully Japanese, nor was she fully accepted as an American either.  As a matter of fact she didn't even understand the concept of being Japanese and any different than anyone else until her parents made her go to a Japanese school where she could learn the Japanese language at the age of 7 or so.  

She shares many happy and often humorous memories, but there are many that while 'funny' are not funny at all.  Prejudice against Japanese was rampant (all Asians I am sure, but more so Japanese during the war years) to the point that they were not allowed to rent rooms or apartments or were not welcome in jobs.  Of course it only was made worse by the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor.  All Japanese on the West Coast (I'm not sure ho far inland this stretched), even those born in the U.S. were required to move to internment camps.  Sone and her family were moved to the Minidoka Camp in Idaho, where the camp was essentially run in almost every aspect by the Japanese internees.  Before the end of the war some, and this included Monica and her siblings, were able to leave the camp and move east if they could claim either a job or a spot in a college or university.  

I was gushing about the book to an acquaintance and fellow reader and she asked to read the book, so I have passed it on to her, but all my notes went with the book.  I have a library copy, but it was hard to remember which passages that struck me and I had wanted to share, but I have a few excerpts that might grab your interest.  I tend to be attracted to food mentions as that is always a fun way to experience an unknown culture.

"From a corner near the kitchen window, a peculiar, pungent odor emanated from a five-gallon crock which mother kept filled with cucumbers, nappa (Chinese cabbage), daikon (large Japanese radishes), immersed in a pickling mixture of nuka, consisting of rice polishings, salt, rice and raisins.  The fermented products were sublimely refreshing, delicious, raw vegetables, a perfect side dish to a rice and tea mixture at the end of a meal."

"Among the usual pots and pans stood a dark red stone mixing bowl inside of which were cut rows and rows of minute grooves as n a record disc.  The bowl was used to grind poppy seeds and miso (soybeans) into a soft paste for soups and for flavoring Japanese dishes.  I spent many hours bent over this bowl, grinding the beans into a smooth, fine paste with a heavy wooden club.  For all the work that went into making miso shiru, soybean soup, I thought it tasted like sawdust boiled in sea brine.  Mother told nothing could be more nutritious, but I could never take more than a few shuddering sips of it."

Sone's mother cooked both Asian and Western dishes, however, so she had steaks and potatoes, ham and eggs and even apple and pumpkin pies.

When you think of the U.S. you tend to think of it being a place of opportunities, but it was really difficult for Asian immigrants.  Monica was hoping to get into a vocational school and then find a job, but this was not an easy thing to do at the time.  As most businesses were not likely to hire a young Japanese woman, in order to even get a spot in a school they had to show proof that they had a job to go to when they finished their studies.  It was a catch-22, as the only places hiring Japanese workers were those run by Japanese and the community could only offer so many positions.

"I did (understand the school's policy), and I was gateful to Miss Thompson for her straightforward approach.  She left no trail of embarrassed excuses, nothing but clean-cut wounds.  I knew that the Nisei girls competed fiercely among themselves for white-collar jobs in the Mitsui and Mitsubishi branch firms downtown, local newspaper establishments, Japanese banks, shipping offices and small export and import firms.  Opportunities were limited.  If a girl did not go to business school, the only other occupation open to her was as a domestic in a home.  More fortunate girls went on to college, and so postponed their job hunting for four years."

I'm not sure if I can find another memoir like this, but I would love to read more and will be on the lookout.  Surely there must be other books about this era and the world of Asian immigrants in the Northwest.  A perfect read for my summer reading project, which has been off to a very good start.