2011 Book List
Well, I did it. For the first time since I began keeping track of my annual reading (2006--can I be any nerdier?) I hit 50 books. For some people, this number is teeny tiny, and for others (Chris comes to mind), this number is huge. Regardless, it beats the hell out of my whopping 24 books of 2010.
Second, I watch very little TV. Embarrassingly little. I cannot hold my own in a conversation with my peers on various TV shows, as all I watch is How I Met Your Mother, Mad Men, and Up All Night (and I’m about eleven episodes behind on Christina Applegate’s working mommy adventures). Oh, and House Hunters. But that’s more of a have-it-on-while-I-make-dinner sort of show.
Third, like Rory Gilmore, I always have a book with me. Always.
Fourth, I started a book club this past spring, which forced me to read at least one book per month. And, well, This Mommy functions in work and life through deadlines. Give me a deadline for something, and I usually find ways to (miraculously) meet it.
Finally, I just love it. And, well, I think everybody makes time for the things they really love. Right?
During 2010, certain books made greater impressions on me, in large part due to the circumstances in which I read them. The same is true this year, but to less extreme degrees—for example, I was not trapped in a cold apartment with a 3-week-old, clutching a gothic mystery as my only escape. to the outside world. However, Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld was mostly read on my Kindle as I rocked my sleeping, ear-infected baby (I dared not wake her by getting up) in January, for hours at a time. The Oyster House by Heidi Jon Schmidt was a delightful Atlantic Coastal story that I got to read on the beach in North Carolina.
Anyway, this year started strong as Elizabeth Strout once again knocked my socks off, this time with Olive Kitteridge, the only book that I gave a 5-star rating. Chasing Superwoman by Susan DiMickele resonated deeply with me, and My Hollywood by Mona Simpson also resonated big time. The Chosen One, by Carol Lynch Williams, and The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak, were the strongest young adult novels I read.
Despite being a relatively negative person (just being honest here), I tend to look for the positive in books I read. Writing is hard! So, even if I didn't love a book, I look for those elements I think work well and I work them into my ratings. Also, in the event my ratings seem inflated, keep in mind I seek out books I expect to be above average. I mean, why read junk? Thus, the only book I read that truly sucked was A Scattered Life by Karen McQuestion. Don’t read it. ‘Tis crap.
Now, with that long-winded intro out of the way, I give you the 2011’s one-whole-year-in-the-making list of books, with the always necessary commentary, in the order I read them.
1. The Girlfriend’s Guide To Surviving the First Year by Vicki Iovine (parenting) Rating: 4
Oh, where would motherhood be without Vicki Iovine? I read her first book, The Girlfriend’s Guide to Pregnancy, when I was at the end of my pregnancy with Charlotte, and I literally peed myself laughing. Sure, I had a fetus playing soccer with my bladder, but the book really was that funny. To mark the end of Year One of Charlotte (and because I didn’t realize Iovine had written this book—doh!), I finally read this guide to surviving the first year of motherhood. Oh, how I wish I had had this book when Charlotte was born! Yes, it’s just as funny as her first book, but on a (quasi) serious note, I NEEDED this book during those first weeks and months. Iovine portrays the first year as pretty terrible, which it is. There is, however, something to be said for reading this book at the END of the first year. With only a couple weeks to go until Charlotte’s first birthday, I found myself reading sections, thinking “Oh yeah! I forgot how awful that part was!” I felt a strange pride that our little family of three made it through. I docked one point because (a) let’s be honest, this is not great literature, and (b) Iovine devotes too much time to discussing how to lose the baby weight (which I think gets WAY too much attention in everything new mommyish).
2. Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
I know of several people who read Prep and didn’t particularly care for it, but I genuinely enjoyed this novel. Our heroine, Lee, is of Midwestern, working-class origins and finds herself almost accidentally at a hoity toity East Coast boarding school. We follow her for 4 years through excruciating self-consciousness and insecurity. Sittenfeld creates an realistic, complex character in Lee, along with quite a few others, and I found myself identifying with her a lot more than I’m comfortable admitting. Prep offers little plot, similar to Sittenfeld’s later novel, American Wife, but the book moves forward in a believable, day-to-day fashion that successfully emulates how time goes by.
3. The Hemingses of Monticello by Annette Gordon-Reed (history) Rating: 4
Thomas Jefferson has always been my favorite U.S. president, mainly because I find him so paradoxical and complex. I went to grad school at “Mr. Jefferson’s university,” the University of Virginia, lived in Charlottesville, and have spent a fair amount of time at Monticello. Jefferson is near and dear to my heart for various reasons. However, as everyone knows, Jefferson had slaves. Gordon-Reed’s book forced me to really face and think about how Jefferson dealt with slavery. More importantly, the book gave identity and, one could argue, voice to the (in)famous Sally Hemings, plus the rest of her family.
Gordon-Reed does an incredible job of providing historical and legal context for the Hemings–Jefferson relationship. She cautions against assuming the slave owner forcibly raped Hemings, although the evil of slavery certainly conjures that image. As Gordon-Reed puts it, that assumption “too easily uses the fact that [Hemings] was born a slave (and a black person) to presume an irreparably damaged, completely cowed, and irrational personality over one who had the capacity to know her circumstances and to intelligently use her knowledge to assess the risks and possible rewards of taking a particular action—in other words, to think” (pp. 361–362). Why did 16-year-old Hemings get to think and negotiate with Jefferson? In France, she could have claimed freedom—and she knew it. Instead, she returned to Virginia and thus to legal slavery, implicitly trusting that Jefferson would indeed protect her from hard work and free all her (their) children when they turned 21. Although this does not negate the sheer power imbalance between Hemings and Jefferson, it does force us to consider that perhaps the two of them, well, liked each other. Of course, they could never marry. And of course she was entirely dependent on him and his whims.
Gordon-Reed also gives immense insight into Jefferson himself, and she truly succeeds at illustrating his complexity, his historical context, and his cultural context (Virginia was no Massachusetts—or France, for that matter.) She deals with him fairly—one could even argue gently—but in countless ways, sometimes overtly and sometimes through a simple example here or there—she never, ever lets the reader forget the tragedy of slavery and how profoundly it affected each enslaved individual, even under such a “benevolent” legal owner as Jefferson.
This is no small historical study, as it provides almost 700 pages of material to ponder, but it’s really worth the time it takes to carefully read. Some have accused Gordon-Reed of being too speculative in her writing, but I disagree. When there is simply no way to know this or that fact, she bluntly admits it. When she does speculate, she uses every single historical piece of context and evidence available to steer the reader away from making assumptions on the basis—and distance—of our 21st-century view.
Oh, and Martha, Jefferson’s deceased wife, was Sally Hemings’s half sister—his sister-in-law, in other words.
Chew on that for a bit, eh?
4. Mentoring Leaders by Ellie Gilfoyle, Ann Grady, and Cathy Nielson (management) Rating: n/a
Discusses how to approach mentoring relationships, particularly through the use of stories. Most relevant for those within education or health care contexts, but of some use within businesses or other organizations.
5. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by Steig Larsson (contemporary literature/mystery) Rating : 3
A journalist tries to crack a decades-old cold case of a disappeared heiress. Judging by the insane popularity of this book, I seem to be one of the few people who felt very lukewarm about it. Larsson gets a couple points for creating an adequately complex mystery, but it takes too long to get going. Next, the writing falls a bit short and was at times a tad clunky, but the genuine quality of writing is difficult to accurately determine when reading translations (this time, from Swedish). I suspect the main reason this novel is so inexplicably successful is due to the gore and violence (against women—it’s always against women, no?), which probably taps some overall cultural fascination with ickiness. Me, I can live without it.
6. Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout (contemporary literature) Rating: 5
Well now. This year, we got to our first 5 of the year much faster than last year. Of course, it’s the same author who gave 2010 its only 5-star rating, so I hurried things up a bit by just going straight for a book I knew had a decent author behind it. Here, Strout strikes gold again, presenting 13 stories through the points of view of various coastal Maine townsfolk to portray the character of Olive Kitteridge. Strout is insanely talented. Her subtle, detailed attention to how couples, parents, friends, and teachers and students interact is just dead on. Each person has his or her own unique voice (though we always stay in third-person narration), showing a different shade of Olive. She is one of the most complex characters that I have ever read, and I rooted for her, cried a bit for her, and also got mad at her. Like, for real. THAT’s how talented Strout is.
7. The Luxe by Anna Godbersen (young adult) Rating: 4
I admit, I bought the book because of the fabulous ball gown on the cover. But this cheap marketing trick actually delivers. The Luxe is a surprisingly good (and lengthy) young adult novel, set in turn-of-the-century Manhattan. Think Cruel Intentions, 100 years prior. Full of scandal, pretty dresses, forbidden love, and deception, this sexy YA novel is utterly entertaining and well-written. I’m a tad embarrassed that I liked it as much as I did, but the historical detail is so spot-on (cut-glass decanters, not just “decanters”!) and Godbersen imbues scenes with surprising nuance—and sass. And the plotting? Perfectly paced. I’m totally going to read the sequel. Don't judge.
8. Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson (young adult) Rating: 4
An award-winning young adult novel, Speak is stuffed with teen angst as Melinda sort of, kind of stops talking after a Bad Event happens at a party in which she calls the cops, becoming a social pariah. A well-written almost-classic (originally published in 1999). I docked a half point because this is so obviously an “issue” YA book—that is, it clearly centers on an Important Teen Issue. Also, there’s a whiff of Mom here. Angst-filled as this novel is, I couldn’t buy Melinda as a teen. She always sounded like a character, written by somebody’s mom, to communicate a coming-of-age lesson. Still, a well-done book. But not a 5.
9. The Happiest Toddler on the Block: How to Eliminate Tantrums and Raise a Patient, Respectful, and Cooperative 1-to 4-Year-Old by Harvey Karp (parenting) Rating: 4
This is one of those books all toddler parents read, it seems, and for good reason: it’s practical, logical, and the techniques WORK. First, Karp explains how toddlers’ brains work: they don’t. They’re growing so fast and taking in so much information at once that our kids have the attention spans of mosquitoes, they’re as temperamental as our menopausal mothers, and as inpatient as, well, toddlers. The best advice you can glean from Karp is the concept of “feeding the meter,” meaning that the more time you devote to completely focused, one-on-one play and attention with your toddler, the longer your kid can go without you having to be RIGHT THERE and throwing a tantrum. Attention, attention, attention is what the toddler wants, and Karp shows how to wield it in such a way that your kid strives to get your attention by being GOOD, not EVIL.
11. The Hotel New Hampshire by John Irving (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
I’m a fan of Irving, and his books tend to be long tomes that twist and turn in bizarre ways. This novel is the weirdest and wackiest of the three Irving novels I’ve now read (the other two being The World According to Garp and A Prayer for Owen Meany). To explain the plot is pointless—this is Irving we’re talking about, after all, but essentially the book centers on a strange family that sets up several hotels in odd locations. I enjoyed the novel less than the other two Irving books I mentioned, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad—not at all, in fact. The characters are endearing and Irving has such a unique, ironic tone with which he writes that is so distinctly Irving. Worth a read.
12. A Parchment of Leaves by Silas House (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
I read Clay’s Quilt by House, which I enjoyed, so I looked forward to this novel. House is a master of non-cheesy regional dialect (Kentucky, in this case). Set during WWI, Saul marries a Cherokee woman and has a kid. His brother becomes creepily obsessed with Saul’s wife, so all those bonds of kin that are the foundation of Appalachian life get messed up. A unique, nicely done little novel.
13. A Scattered Life by Karen McQuestion (contemporary literature) Rating: 2
Self-published doesn’t always mean crappy, but self-published (for Kindle) A Scattered Life is quite crappy. A bored housewife with an overbearing, judgmental mother-in-law gets a silly job (tinkering in a bookstore, not a real one that would actually pay bills—geez) and then a wacky woman with oodles of kids moves in next door, presumably to pull our main character out of her shell, but this really never takes flight. In short, an amateur effort by an amateur author. Of course, it sold so many (again, KINDLE) copies that the film rights were bought and McQuestion is presumably now wealthy on the basis of her crap novel. There’s truly no justice in the publishing world. That said, it provides a VERY good lesson to consumers of the pitfalls of electronic and self-publishing, and utterly illustrates the importance of a publisher who maintains quality control. And for that, this book is useful. Crappy, but useful.
14. For the Fame of God’s Name, edited by Sam Storms and Justin Taylor (Religion) Rating: 4
A collection of essays in honor of bigwig preacher John Piper, this 544-page book tackles such theological conundrums as why good people suffer (and the larger question—why DON’T some people suffer?), the character of God, and so on. Very well-written, scholastically approached, and superbly edited and produced (publisher probably gets credit there). I docked one point because every single contributor is male. This is not surprising, given the extremely conservative nature of the writings, including your obligatory insistence on the “complementarian” view of marriage, that is, women complement men, both at home at in the church (only men shall be leaders—that sort of B.S.). Still, I don’t have to agree with everything to make this a well-done tome of theological and religious ideas and study, right? Worth a read.
17. A Novel Bookstore by Laurence Cosse (contemporary literature) Rating: 3
The premise? A couple of pretentious readers decide to open a bookstore that sells only good novels, which are deemed good by a super secret committee of authors/readers. A few committee members start getting attacked, which launches the world’s slowest moving mystery EVER with a completely unsurprising ending. The text reads clumsily, which could be due to the translation from the original French. Most of the literary references are to French literature, which I’m not familiar with, short of Flaubert, Dumas, and Foucault (yet no mention of Derrida that I can recall, which I found sort of odd). Danielle Steel was thrown under the literary bus, which was gratifying and earned a point. Anyway, the pacing was off, the forced first-person narration seemed gimmicky and pointless, and the characters—especially the girlfriend—were unlikeable, self-indulgent bores who affected starving Parisian artist personas (“I’m soooo deep, I think such profound thoughts I can’t sleep—love me! Love me!”), which came across as clichéd and eye-roll worthy. An interesting approach to the ideas of taste and the purpose of literature, but this book would not have appeared in the story’s bookstore.
19. The Summer Guest by Justin Cronin (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
Set in a rustic fishing camp in Maine, a super rich old guy dying of cancer makes one last visit to the camp he has visited every summer for the past 30 years. Lots of characters and points of view tell the tale, and of course everybody eventually gets woven into to each other. Enjoyable, yet pretty slow-moving—in a happily lazy sort of way. A good summer read, especially if you’re vacationing somewhere with cabins, trees, and fishing poles.
20. Vivaldi’s Virgins by Barbara Quick (historical fiction) Rating: 4
In an 18th-century Venice convent/orphanage for girls, which doubles as a music school, a young violin prodigy seeks to find out the circumstances that left her orphaned and to hone her musical gifts. Loosely based on an actual female prodigy studying under Italian composer Antonio Vivaldi, Anna Maria is a sweet, likable character, with ambition and competitiveness. Quick does a fantastic job developing Anna Maria’s character realistically within the cloistered environment, describing the nuances of competitive and artistic girls, and generating relationships among the girls and nuns.
21. Toddler 411 by Denise Fields and Ari Brown (parenting) Rating: 4
This is one of those rare parenting books that has lots of information without any agenda or gimmick. Stuffed with information aimed specifically on toddlers, you have everything from autism screening checklists to the first coherent explanation I’ve gotten as to why toddlers get so many ear infections and how ear tubes actually work. The only quibbles I had: First, the authors argue for straw vs. normal sippy cups, as apparently toddlers try to suckle rather than suck, potentially creating mouth problems. You can’t toss in something like this without some evidence (beyond anecdotal, which is all we get) or some direction in getting a toddler to figure out the straw. Second, their information regarding toddler feeding is too closely connected to the hype surrounding childhood obesity, and again, not supported by current evidence as to what actually works to generate healthy eaters. “Insisting” a toddler eat her vegetables, for example, ain’t gonna work. On the whole though, this is the only (informative, not-for-fun) parenting book on toddlers that I’d recommend. It covers EVERYTHING, has a version specially designed for Kindle, and it’s searchable to boot.
23. The Lost Summer of Louisa May Alcott by Kelly O’Connor McNees (historical literature) Rating: 4
This was the first official Reader’s Ink book club book, so that makes it special, no? The premise: During one summer in New Hampshire, Louisa May Alcott, the author of Little Women, among other books, falls in love with a guy who, while tempting, threatens to derail the writerly life she seeks. Although a few storytelling hiccups occur here and there (e.g., accidental shifts in point of view, inadequate motivation for a couple plot points), this is a thoroughly enjoyable book.
24. The Girlfriends Guide to Toddlers by Vicki Iovine (parenting) Rating: 4
I’m a HUGE Vicki Iovine fan, and I adored The Girlfriends’ Guide to Pregnancy and The Girlfriends’ Guide to Surviving the First Year. I very much enjoyed Iovine’s third book, and her depiction of toddlers is adorable, hilarious, and SPOT ON. That said, by book three, she does seem to be losing a bit of steam, and a couple chapters seemed to lean toward filler, such as the section devoted to play dates. Of course, I’m anti-play date, as I’m a working mom with not a lot of time to hang out a park for 2 hours, and my kid plays with kids the whole live-long day at school. But still, super entertaining. You can tell Iovine adores toddlers, no matter how naughty they get, which I appreciate. Toddlers are awesome.
‘I was a lawyer, but now I’m writing poetry,’ Helen said, when it was her turn.
‘Composer,’ I said next.
‘Poetry, music,’ the instructress repeated.
The ideal mother: great legs and a background in ophthalmology (MELISSA, MOM OF SIMON, 3). No wonder parties in our twenties felt giddy: a secretary interested in journalism could, in the span of a few years, tip over to a background in journalism. Background was just preparation for these small chairs. . . . I used to watch the successful girls leaping on the green field, twirling batons. They made beautiful shapes, blurry cartwheels against the sky. But for what? These women were the well-rounded girls grown up, motherhood making the end of good-at-everything” (pp. 140–141). I also loved that the novel takes place in Southern California—Santa Monica, Pasadena, Eagle Rock, even Glendale!—my old stomping grounds—that I MISS! An insanely smart, provocative book that probably nobody will adequately appreciate. Highly recommended.
26. Faith by Jennifer Haigh (contemporary literature) Rating: 4.5
Set in Boston 2002 during the height of the attention focused on priests accused of molesting children, the sister of a priest who is accused narrates the story of his saga, how her family reacts to it, and her own vacillation between faith and doubt. Haigh superbly creates her characters, flaws and all. Haigh also does an exceptional job making Boston itself permeate accents, dialect, family relationships, jobs, class, Catholicism, and so on—the city itself is a main character. Highly recommended.
27. Little Men by Louisa May Alcott (American literature) Rating: 3.5
Some have suggested Louisa May Alcott was a one-hit wonder in writing Little Women, and so far, that’s totally true. Prior to reading Little Men, I had also read Alcott’s An Old-Fashioned Girl, and both suffer from unbelievable preachiness. In Little Men, we meet Jo March, now Mrs. Behr, who runs a school for boys. In each chapter, she applies a teacherly behavioral trick or expounds on some educational philosophy that, though probably quite novel in 19th-century America, is just sort of annoying. Still, I did appreciate how much Alcott seemed to genuinely love children—their spirit, imagination, wackiness. That is where Little Men shines, which pulls it above the wretched An Old-Fashioned Girl.
28. Skippy Dies by Paul Murray (contemporary literature) Rating: 4.5
This was the second Reader’s Ink book club book. Pushing 700 pages, this book of adolescent boy humor, death, lust, and about 400 other themes has a lot more to it than meets the eye. Set at Seabrook, an all-boy Catholic school in Dublin, a boy named Skippy dies. Like, on the first page. The rest of the book backtracks to find out WHY. Murray’s prose is unpredictable, ironic, vulgar, and poetic—often within the same sentence. The themes are big: past vs. future, young vs. old, love vs. hate. And more. Totally recommended.
29. Minding Frankie by Maeve Minchy (contemporary literature) Rating: 3
In Ireland, a bit of a screw-up (Noel) finds out he’s about to be a daddy, due to some quick fling approximately 9 months prior. The mom is terminally ill, and dies 20 minutes after Frankie is born. To ward off the cranky judgmental social worker, the whole village of wacky characters pitches in to help raise the baby. The concept is charming, but there’s nothing remarkable about this book. Nothing terrible, nothing spectacular. One particular gripe is that the novel contains an insanely large number of characters, and an equal number of subplots, told mostly via backstory which can make for tiresome reading.
30. Left Neglected by Lisa Genova (contemporary literature) Rating: 3.75
A busy, workaholic mom gets in a bad car accident. When she comes to, she learns that the part of her brain is damaged to the point that she has zero awareness of anything on the left part of her body. Highly readable, adequately enjoyable, and the topic is very original (the author is a neuroscientist by day, by the way). And I truly liked the depiction of working-mommy guilt, which actually really softened the character. Overall, though, this book never really sang.
31. A Dog’s Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
The third selection for the Reader’s Ink book club, this adorable story follows canine Bailey through multiple lives as he tries to discover his purpose. Bailey’s views on cats are hilarious (and true), and the narration is so charming and sincere that you will fall in love with him and thus should avoid pet stores and animal shelters for at least 30 days after finishing. Oh, and like all dog stories, there shall be tears. In fact, every time Chris found me sniffling in bed, he asked, “Did the dog die again?”
34. The House on Oyster Creek by Heidi Jon Schmidt (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
I liked this book much more than I expected to. Charlotte (best name ever!) and her much older, brainy and unlikeable husband inherit a home on Cape Cod, near a working-class town that depends on oyster farming to keep the locals afloat. Locals vs. tourists clash, and of course Charlotte finds herself falling for one of the calloused-handed oyster farmers. Pity that she’s married. The writing is fantastic, the dynamics among all the inhabitants are nuanced and complex, breaking away from stereotypes. I also really loved the depiction of the relationship between Charlotte and her toddler daughter, Fiona. It seemed just-right quirky and totally genuine. Recommended.
35. Girls in Pants: The Third Summer of the Sisterhood (young adult) Rating: 3.75
This third book of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series brings us to the summer before the girls depart for their freshman year of college. Plots are thin and sentences are pushed and stretched and, well, rather annoying lyoverdone. Yet, I still like the characters enough, because after all, this is the Sisterhood and we love the Sisterhood. Still, my least favorite in the series, so far. We shall see how book four does.
36. Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand by Helen Simonson (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
The fourth book for the book club, Major Pettigrew won me over. The premise? After being widowed for some time in the English countryside, old-fashioned Major Pettigrew begins falling for Mrs. Ali, a Pakastini immigrant. The prose is subtle, ironic, and very funny, and the themes are big: young vs. old, identity, “philosophical rigidity,” and then some. The book is deliberately slow-paced. One friend of mine read it while sipping earl-grey tea, which would be a delightful way to more fully enjoy this darling read.
37. Chasing Superwoman: A Working Mom’s Adventures in Life and Faith by Susan DiMickele (religion/women’s studies) Rating: 4
38. The Girl Who Would Speak for the Dead by Paul Elwork (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
Within a pair of somewhat odd, 13-year-old twins, the sister (Emily) discovers she can crack her ankle in such a way that she convinces folks she’s communicating with the dead. But once she starts tinkering with people’s grief, things begin to spiral from fun to not so fun. Set in 1925, this delightfully mysterious, atmospheric story is beautifully written. Worth a read.
39. On Prayer and the Contemplative Life by St. Thomas Aquinas (religion) Rating: 3.5
Written by the 13-century Catholic priest, philosopher, and theologian, St. Thomas Aquinas, this is no easy read. The fact I’m Protestant, not Catholic, made the going a bit tough, as some concepts presented were entirely foreign to me, such as, well, sainthood. St. Augustine (with whom I’m more familiar) then gave his two cents here and there. Overall, I walked away from this with greater understanding of Catholicism, and, perhaps not too surprising, evidence that Catholics and Protestants have SO much in common. Lots of nuggets to glean, even 700 years later. However, read this one sitting UP. And, preferably, with medieval choral music playing in the back ground.
41. Apartment 16 by Adam Nevill (thriller) Rating: 3.5
In an old, hoity-toity collection of London flats, Apartment 16 is haunted. Nevill starts out strong with intense suspense and scariness and then we unfortunately veer off into the grotesque. The icky. And, well, with that, we lose the artful building of plot and suspense. The novel is mostly well written and the plot fully fleshed out, but overwritten scene after scene of ugliness took much away. Really, one or two vile scenes would have sufficed.
43. Silent on the Moor by Deanna Raybourn (mystery) Rating: 4
Call me shallow, but I love the Lady Julia Grey mysteries. This, the third in the series, was a little thin on mystery, but in typical Raybourn fashion, the atmosphere, wit, and characters are so fully entertaining, that the book succeeds. Though not a perfect novel, I found myself excited to return to reading it at the end of an evening, and that is why I recommend it.
44. NurtureShock: New Thinking About Children by Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman (parenting/sociology) Rating: 4
46. The Gift of Rest: Rediscovery the Beauty of the Sabbath by Sen. Joe Lieberman (religion) Rating: 3.5
I deeply admire the Jewish faith, and I think Senator Lieberman is a pretty decent guy. I respect anyone ballsy enough to get elected as an independent. At any rate, I heard him on POTUS during a morning commute, plugging his new book about the Sabbath in his typical soft-spoken tone (you know, the antithesis of Michele Bachmann—but I digress). And, well, the Sabbath is one of those things I love in theory and fall short of in practicality. Lieberman takes the reader through a typical Jewish Shabbat, step by step, with a few personal anecdotes thrown in. I certainly wasn’t blown away, but I came away with a much better understanding of Sabbath/Shabbat and felt more compelled to, well, at least TRY to do more on Saturday, less on Sunday.
47. Keeping the Moon by Sarah Dessen (young adult) Rating: 4
A high-school outcast has to go to a small North Carolina beach town for a summer and live with her wacky aunt. There, she gets a grip on who she actually is,and comes of age. I’ve been meaning to read one of Dessen’s books forever. As I started this one, I couldn’t figure out what the big fat deal was with Dessen, but as I progressed and then finished, I realized that she IS very good. The writing is tight, believable, and has depth. The voice is genuinely teen, not adult-trying-to-write-teen, which also gives her a gold star. I plan to read more of Dessen.
There you have it. Bring on 2012!
How, you might wonder, does a full-time working mom read 50 books in a year? Glad you asked. For starters, I don’t read newspapers or magazines. Sure, I’ll read an article someone might forward to me, and I’ll read certain columnists, but I’m not one of those people who tackles an entire newspaper or magazine with a cup of coffee. I much rather read books. There’s a reason I no longer work on periodicals, folks—I don’t particularly care for them.
Second, I watch very little TV. Embarrassingly little. I cannot hold my own in a conversation with my peers on various TV shows, as all I watch is How I Met Your Mother, Mad Men, and Up All Night (and I’m about eleven episodes behind on Christina Applegate’s working mommy adventures). Oh, and House Hunters. But that’s more of a have-it-on-while-I-make-dinner sort of show.
Third, like Rory Gilmore, I always have a book with me. Always.
Fourth, I started a book club this past spring, which forced me to read at least one book per month. And, well, This Mommy functions in work and life through deadlines. Give me a deadline for something, and I usually find ways to (miraculously) meet it.
Finally, I just love it. And, well, I think everybody makes time for the things they really love. Right?
During 2010, certain books made greater impressions on me, in large part due to the circumstances in which I read them. The same is true this year, but to less extreme degrees—for example, I was not trapped in a cold apartment with a 3-week-old, clutching a gothic mystery as my only escape. to the outside world. However, Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld was mostly read on my Kindle as I rocked my sleeping, ear-infected baby (I dared not wake her by getting up) in January, for hours at a time. The Oyster House by Heidi Jon Schmidt was a delightful Atlantic Coastal story that I got to read on the beach in North Carolina.
Anyway, this year started strong as Elizabeth Strout once again knocked my socks off, this time with Olive Kitteridge, the only book that I gave a 5-star rating. Chasing Superwoman by Susan DiMickele resonated deeply with me, and My Hollywood by Mona Simpson also resonated big time. The Chosen One, by Carol Lynch Williams, and The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak, were the strongest young adult novels I read.
Despite being a relatively negative person (just being honest here), I tend to look for the positive in books I read. Writing is hard! So, even if I didn't love a book, I look for those elements I think work well and I work them into my ratings. Also, in the event my ratings seem inflated, keep in mind I seek out books I expect to be above average. I mean, why read junk? Thus, the only book I read that truly sucked was A Scattered Life by Karen McQuestion. Don’t read it. ‘Tis crap.
Now, with that long-winded intro out of the way, I give you the 2011’s one-whole-year-in-the-making list of books, with the always necessary commentary, in the order I read them.
1. The Girlfriend’s Guide To Surviving the First Year by Vicki Iovine (parenting) Rating: 4
Oh, where would motherhood be without Vicki Iovine? I read her first book, The Girlfriend’s Guide to Pregnancy, when I was at the end of my pregnancy with Charlotte, and I literally peed myself laughing. Sure, I had a fetus playing soccer with my bladder, but the book really was that funny. To mark the end of Year One of Charlotte (and because I didn’t realize Iovine had written this book—doh!), I finally read this guide to surviving the first year of motherhood. Oh, how I wish I had had this book when Charlotte was born! Yes, it’s just as funny as her first book, but on a (quasi) serious note, I NEEDED this book during those first weeks and months. Iovine portrays the first year as pretty terrible, which it is. There is, however, something to be said for reading this book at the END of the first year. With only a couple weeks to go until Charlotte’s first birthday, I found myself reading sections, thinking “Oh yeah! I forgot how awful that part was!” I felt a strange pride that our little family of three made it through. I docked one point because (a) let’s be honest, this is not great literature, and (b) Iovine devotes too much time to discussing how to lose the baby weight (which I think gets WAY too much attention in everything new mommyish).
2. Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
I know of several people who read Prep and didn’t particularly care for it, but I genuinely enjoyed this novel. Our heroine, Lee, is of Midwestern, working-class origins and finds herself almost accidentally at a hoity toity East Coast boarding school. We follow her for 4 years through excruciating self-consciousness and insecurity. Sittenfeld creates an realistic, complex character in Lee, along with quite a few others, and I found myself identifying with her a lot more than I’m comfortable admitting. Prep offers little plot, similar to Sittenfeld’s later novel, American Wife, but the book moves forward in a believable, day-to-day fashion that successfully emulates how time goes by.
3. The Hemingses of Monticello by Annette Gordon-Reed (history) Rating: 4
Thomas Jefferson has always been my favorite U.S. president, mainly because I find him so paradoxical and complex. I went to grad school at “Mr. Jefferson’s university,” the University of Virginia, lived in Charlottesville, and have spent a fair amount of time at Monticello. Jefferson is near and dear to my heart for various reasons. However, as everyone knows, Jefferson had slaves. Gordon-Reed’s book forced me to really face and think about how Jefferson dealt with slavery. More importantly, the book gave identity and, one could argue, voice to the (in)famous Sally Hemings, plus the rest of her family.
Gordon-Reed does an incredible job of providing historical and legal context for the Hemings–Jefferson relationship. She cautions against assuming the slave owner forcibly raped Hemings, although the evil of slavery certainly conjures that image. As Gordon-Reed puts it, that assumption “too easily uses the fact that [Hemings] was born a slave (and a black person) to presume an irreparably damaged, completely cowed, and irrational personality over one who had the capacity to know her circumstances and to intelligently use her knowledge to assess the risks and possible rewards of taking a particular action—in other words, to think” (pp. 361–362). Why did 16-year-old Hemings get to think and negotiate with Jefferson? In France, she could have claimed freedom—and she knew it. Instead, she returned to Virginia and thus to legal slavery, implicitly trusting that Jefferson would indeed protect her from hard work and free all her (their) children when they turned 21. Although this does not negate the sheer power imbalance between Hemings and Jefferson, it does force us to consider that perhaps the two of them, well, liked each other. Of course, they could never marry. And of course she was entirely dependent on him and his whims.
Gordon-Reed also gives immense insight into Jefferson himself, and she truly succeeds at illustrating his complexity, his historical context, and his cultural context (Virginia was no Massachusetts—or France, for that matter.) She deals with him fairly—one could even argue gently—but in countless ways, sometimes overtly and sometimes through a simple example here or there—she never, ever lets the reader forget the tragedy of slavery and how profoundly it affected each enslaved individual, even under such a “benevolent” legal owner as Jefferson.
This is no small historical study, as it provides almost 700 pages of material to ponder, but it’s really worth the time it takes to carefully read. Some have accused Gordon-Reed of being too speculative in her writing, but I disagree. When there is simply no way to know this or that fact, she bluntly admits it. When she does speculate, she uses every single historical piece of context and evidence available to steer the reader away from making assumptions on the basis—and distance—of our 21st-century view.
Oh, and Martha, Jefferson’s deceased wife, was Sally Hemings’s half sister—his sister-in-law, in other words.
Chew on that for a bit, eh?
4. Mentoring Leaders by Ellie Gilfoyle, Ann Grady, and Cathy Nielson (management) Rating: n/a
Discusses how to approach mentoring relationships, particularly through the use of stories. Most relevant for those within education or health care contexts, but of some use within businesses or other organizations.
5. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by Steig Larsson (contemporary literature/mystery) Rating : 3
A journalist tries to crack a decades-old cold case of a disappeared heiress. Judging by the insane popularity of this book, I seem to be one of the few people who felt very lukewarm about it. Larsson gets a couple points for creating an adequately complex mystery, but it takes too long to get going. Next, the writing falls a bit short and was at times a tad clunky, but the genuine quality of writing is difficult to accurately determine when reading translations (this time, from Swedish). I suspect the main reason this novel is so inexplicably successful is due to the gore and violence (against women—it’s always against women, no?), which probably taps some overall cultural fascination with ickiness. Me, I can live without it.
6. Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout (contemporary literature) Rating: 5
Well now. This year, we got to our first 5 of the year much faster than last year. Of course, it’s the same author who gave 2010 its only 5-star rating, so I hurried things up a bit by just going straight for a book I knew had a decent author behind it. Here, Strout strikes gold again, presenting 13 stories through the points of view of various coastal Maine townsfolk to portray the character of Olive Kitteridge. Strout is insanely talented. Her subtle, detailed attention to how couples, parents, friends, and teachers and students interact is just dead on. Each person has his or her own unique voice (though we always stay in third-person narration), showing a different shade of Olive. She is one of the most complex characters that I have ever read, and I rooted for her, cried a bit for her, and also got mad at her. Like, for real. THAT’s how talented Strout is.
7. The Luxe by Anna Godbersen (young adult) Rating: 4
I admit, I bought the book because of the fabulous ball gown on the cover. But this cheap marketing trick actually delivers. The Luxe is a surprisingly good (and lengthy) young adult novel, set in turn-of-the-century Manhattan. Think Cruel Intentions, 100 years prior. Full of scandal, pretty dresses, forbidden love, and deception, this sexy YA novel is utterly entertaining and well-written. I’m a tad embarrassed that I liked it as much as I did, but the historical detail is so spot-on (cut-glass decanters, not just “decanters”!) and Godbersen imbues scenes with surprising nuance—and sass. And the plotting? Perfectly paced. I’m totally going to read the sequel. Don't judge.
8. Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson (young adult) Rating: 4
An award-winning young adult novel, Speak is stuffed with teen angst as Melinda sort of, kind of stops talking after a Bad Event happens at a party in which she calls the cops, becoming a social pariah. A well-written almost-classic (originally published in 1999). I docked a half point because this is so obviously an “issue” YA book—that is, it clearly centers on an Important Teen Issue. Also, there’s a whiff of Mom here. Angst-filled as this novel is, I couldn’t buy Melinda as a teen. She always sounded like a character, written by somebody’s mom, to communicate a coming-of-age lesson. Still, a well-done book. But not a 5.
9. The Happiest Toddler on the Block: How to Eliminate Tantrums and Raise a Patient, Respectful, and Cooperative 1-to 4-Year-Old by Harvey Karp (parenting) Rating: 4
This is one of those books all toddler parents read, it seems, and for good reason: it’s practical, logical, and the techniques WORK. First, Karp explains how toddlers’ brains work: they don’t. They’re growing so fast and taking in so much information at once that our kids have the attention spans of mosquitoes, they’re as temperamental as our menopausal mothers, and as inpatient as, well, toddlers. The best advice you can glean from Karp is the concept of “feeding the meter,” meaning that the more time you devote to completely focused, one-on-one play and attention with your toddler, the longer your kid can go without you having to be RIGHT THERE and throwing a tantrum. Attention, attention, attention is what the toddler wants, and Karp shows how to wield it in such a way that your kid strives to get your attention by being GOOD, not EVIL.
10. The School of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermeister (contemporary literature) Rating: 4.5
This is an excellent novel, especially for foodies. Chef Lillian hosts a cooking class for a mix of characters (one chapter devoted to each, of course), and each of them find whatever psychological fix they need through her class. Although Bauermeister’s words get excessively simile-laden, the style somehow works for this novel. It’s very well written, and the characters are nicely developed. I docked a half point because Lillian’s story of how she came to cook was a bit clichéd (the abuelita-type old lady that helps her discover spices). Overall, extremely enjoyable. Recommended!11. The Hotel New Hampshire by John Irving (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
I’m a fan of Irving, and his books tend to be long tomes that twist and turn in bizarre ways. This novel is the weirdest and wackiest of the three Irving novels I’ve now read (the other two being The World According to Garp and A Prayer for Owen Meany). To explain the plot is pointless—this is Irving we’re talking about, after all, but essentially the book centers on a strange family that sets up several hotels in odd locations. I enjoyed the novel less than the other two Irving books I mentioned, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad—not at all, in fact. The characters are endearing and Irving has such a unique, ironic tone with which he writes that is so distinctly Irving. Worth a read.
12. A Parchment of Leaves by Silas House (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
I read Clay’s Quilt by House, which I enjoyed, so I looked forward to this novel. House is a master of non-cheesy regional dialect (Kentucky, in this case). Set during WWI, Saul marries a Cherokee woman and has a kid. His brother becomes creepily obsessed with Saul’s wife, so all those bonds of kin that are the foundation of Appalachian life get messed up. A unique, nicely done little novel.
13. A Scattered Life by Karen McQuestion (contemporary literature) Rating: 2
Self-published doesn’t always mean crappy, but self-published (for Kindle) A Scattered Life is quite crappy. A bored housewife with an overbearing, judgmental mother-in-law gets a silly job (tinkering in a bookstore, not a real one that would actually pay bills—geez) and then a wacky woman with oodles of kids moves in next door, presumably to pull our main character out of her shell, but this really never takes flight. In short, an amateur effort by an amateur author. Of course, it sold so many (again, KINDLE) copies that the film rights were bought and McQuestion is presumably now wealthy on the basis of her crap novel. There’s truly no justice in the publishing world. That said, it provides a VERY good lesson to consumers of the pitfalls of electronic and self-publishing, and utterly illustrates the importance of a publisher who maintains quality control. And for that, this book is useful. Crappy, but useful.
14. For the Fame of God’s Name, edited by Sam Storms and Justin Taylor (Religion) Rating: 4
A collection of essays in honor of bigwig preacher John Piper, this 544-page book tackles such theological conundrums as why good people suffer (and the larger question—why DON’T some people suffer?), the character of God, and so on. Very well-written, scholastically approached, and superbly edited and produced (publisher probably gets credit there). I docked one point because every single contributor is male. This is not surprising, given the extremely conservative nature of the writings, including your obligatory insistence on the “complementarian” view of marriage, that is, women complement men, both at home at in the church (only men shall be leaders—that sort of B.S.). Still, I don’t have to agree with everything to make this a well-done tome of theological and religious ideas and study, right? Worth a read.
15. Bossypants by Tina Fey (autobiography) Rating: 4
It’s no secret that I have a girl crush on Tina Fey. I heart her, and for so many reasons. This book was worth the relatively steep Kindle price for the chapter on breastfeeding alone. I would have paid double. Fey’s self-deprecating humor, spot-on wit, and sheer irony make this a fabulously entertaining read. It’s not a perfect book—sometimes she actually tries to be almost serious, which is jarring. You’re sort of waiting for a punch line that never comes, but such instances are rare. Totally recommended. 16. Half the Sky: Turning Oppression Into Opportunity for Women Worldwide by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn (women’s studies) Rating: 4.5
Like Holocaust literature, this is one of those books that hurts to read. Unlike Holocaust literature, Kristof and WuDunn provide solutions to the world-wide problem of female exploitation and oppression. The authors cover it all: sexual slavery, genital mutilation, broken fistulas from children having babies (and without medical care), poverty, child brides, Islam, the genocide of female babies, AIDS, and education. Despite the litany of unbelievably difficult topics, each highlighted with actual women/girls with heartbreaking stories, the authors present very real, practical ideas that can nudge progress in the right direction. As someone who majored in women’s studies, I’ve read my fair share of books and articles that decry this or that global problem—without fully taking into account the immense trickiness of local culture and economic factors. The authors use actual studies and evidence (what a concept!) to demonstrate what sorts of interventions work. In other words, throwing money at a problem (the usual way lots of well-meaning folks or organizations aim to help) often does not work. Help must work within a particular culture, even if it slowly changes it (for the better—I don’t think declaring infanticide of girl babies as absolutely wrong makes me ethnocentric). Highly, highly recommended for every single reader who cares about women or people beyond U.S. borders. 17. A Novel Bookstore by Laurence Cosse (contemporary literature) Rating: 3
The premise? A couple of pretentious readers decide to open a bookstore that sells only good novels, which are deemed good by a super secret committee of authors/readers. A few committee members start getting attacked, which launches the world’s slowest moving mystery EVER with a completely unsurprising ending. The text reads clumsily, which could be due to the translation from the original French. Most of the literary references are to French literature, which I’m not familiar with, short of Flaubert, Dumas, and Foucault (yet no mention of Derrida that I can recall, which I found sort of odd). Danielle Steel was thrown under the literary bus, which was gratifying and earned a point. Anyway, the pacing was off, the forced first-person narration seemed gimmicky and pointless, and the characters—especially the girlfriend—were unlikeable, self-indulgent bores who affected starving Parisian artist personas (“I’m soooo deep, I think such profound thoughts I can’t sleep—love me! Love me!”), which came across as clichéd and eye-roll worthy. An interesting approach to the ideas of taste and the purpose of literature, but this book would not have appeared in the story’s bookstore.
18. Call of the Wild by Jack London (American literature) Rating: 4
I’ve read several dog-perspective books (Art of Racing in the Rain; A Dog’s Purpose), and this one, originally published in 1903, is the grittier of the three (although Call of the Wild is narrated in third-person, er, third-dog, point of view). Buck, a mixed-breed sled dog, runs up against lots of adventures and challenges, good owners and bad owners, mostly in the Alaskan wild. First, who doesn’t love a good, old-fashioned American adventure story? Second, who doesn’t love reading from the point of view of a dog? Recommended.19. The Summer Guest by Justin Cronin (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
Set in a rustic fishing camp in Maine, a super rich old guy dying of cancer makes one last visit to the camp he has visited every summer for the past 30 years. Lots of characters and points of view tell the tale, and of course everybody eventually gets woven into to each other. Enjoyable, yet pretty slow-moving—in a happily lazy sort of way. A good summer read, especially if you’re vacationing somewhere with cabins, trees, and fishing poles.
20. Vivaldi’s Virgins by Barbara Quick (historical fiction) Rating: 4
In an 18th-century Venice convent/orphanage for girls, which doubles as a music school, a young violin prodigy seeks to find out the circumstances that left her orphaned and to hone her musical gifts. Loosely based on an actual female prodigy studying under Italian composer Antonio Vivaldi, Anna Maria is a sweet, likable character, with ambition and competitiveness. Quick does a fantastic job developing Anna Maria’s character realistically within the cloistered environment, describing the nuances of competitive and artistic girls, and generating relationships among the girls and nuns.
21. Toddler 411 by Denise Fields and Ari Brown (parenting) Rating: 4
This is one of those rare parenting books that has lots of information without any agenda or gimmick. Stuffed with information aimed specifically on toddlers, you have everything from autism screening checklists to the first coherent explanation I’ve gotten as to why toddlers get so many ear infections and how ear tubes actually work. The only quibbles I had: First, the authors argue for straw vs. normal sippy cups, as apparently toddlers try to suckle rather than suck, potentially creating mouth problems. You can’t toss in something like this without some evidence (beyond anecdotal, which is all we get) or some direction in getting a toddler to figure out the straw. Second, their information regarding toddler feeding is too closely connected to the hype surrounding childhood obesity, and again, not supported by current evidence as to what actually works to generate healthy eaters. “Insisting” a toddler eat her vegetables, for example, ain’t gonna work. On the whole though, this is the only (informative, not-for-fun) parenting book on toddlers that I’d recommend. It covers EVERYTHING, has a version specially designed for Kindle, and it’s searchable to boot.
22. Brick Lane by Monica Ali (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
A young Bangladeshi woman, Nanzeen, marries (in the pre-arranged sort of way) a Bengali immigrant living in London who is twice her age and thoroughly unlikable and full of himself—but in a remarkably nuanced, extraordinarily written development of character. Within a depressing apartment and very circumscribed life, Nanzeen grows up, has children, contemplates an affair, and tries to stay in contact with her sister, who has a life worse than her own. Themes of identity and assimilation run though the novel at multiple levels and from many angles, entirely through characters. 23. The Lost Summer of Louisa May Alcott by Kelly O’Connor McNees (historical literature) Rating: 4
This was the first official Reader’s Ink book club book, so that makes it special, no? The premise: During one summer in New Hampshire, Louisa May Alcott, the author of Little Women, among other books, falls in love with a guy who, while tempting, threatens to derail the writerly life she seeks. Although a few storytelling hiccups occur here and there (e.g., accidental shifts in point of view, inadequate motivation for a couple plot points), this is a thoroughly enjoyable book.
24. The Girlfriends Guide to Toddlers by Vicki Iovine (parenting) Rating: 4
I’m a HUGE Vicki Iovine fan, and I adored The Girlfriends’ Guide to Pregnancy and The Girlfriends’ Guide to Surviving the First Year. I very much enjoyed Iovine’s third book, and her depiction of toddlers is adorable, hilarious, and SPOT ON. That said, by book three, she does seem to be losing a bit of steam, and a couple chapters seemed to lean toward filler, such as the section devoted to play dates. Of course, I’m anti-play date, as I’m a working mom with not a lot of time to hang out a park for 2 hours, and my kid plays with kids the whole live-long day at school. But still, super entertaining. You can tell Iovine adores toddlers, no matter how naughty they get, which I appreciate. Toddlers are awesome.
25. My Hollywood by Mona Simpson (contemporary literature) Rating: 4.5
Simpson’s subtly satirical yet jarringly perceptive study of the dynamics between nannies and employers, working moms and working dads, nannies and other nannies, mothers and their kids, and working moms and stay-at-home moms is nothing short of brilliant. We meet Claire, a composer, and the nanny of her son, Lola. Each chapter switches from Claire’s point of view to Lola’s and back again. Lola’s voice and character absolutely shine—she’s an amazingly complex character. Claire meanwhile grapples with having the “less important” job because she makes less than her husband and continually allows his job to trump hers when somebody besides Lola needs to tend to the kid or the house (oh, I’ve been there!), an implicit yet defeating agreement between dually working spouses that Simpson sums up as: “You can have your turn, only later” (p. 169, italics in original). Or, take this example from when Claire is at a school-related event, and the moms introduce themselves: “Our instructress kept referring to our work (what I still lived for, cried over) as ‘background.’—for example, ‘Her background is in dance.’‘I was a lawyer, but now I’m writing poetry,’ Helen said, when it was her turn.
‘Composer,’ I said next.
‘Poetry, music,’ the instructress repeated.
The ideal mother: great legs and a background in ophthalmology (MELISSA, MOM OF SIMON, 3). No wonder parties in our twenties felt giddy: a secretary interested in journalism could, in the span of a few years, tip over to a background in journalism. Background was just preparation for these small chairs. . . . I used to watch the successful girls leaping on the green field, twirling batons. They made beautiful shapes, blurry cartwheels against the sky. But for what? These women were the well-rounded girls grown up, motherhood making the end of good-at-everything” (pp. 140–141). I also loved that the novel takes place in Southern California—Santa Monica, Pasadena, Eagle Rock, even Glendale!—my old stomping grounds—that I MISS! An insanely smart, provocative book that probably nobody will adequately appreciate. Highly recommended.
26. Faith by Jennifer Haigh (contemporary literature) Rating: 4.5
Set in Boston 2002 during the height of the attention focused on priests accused of molesting children, the sister of a priest who is accused narrates the story of his saga, how her family reacts to it, and her own vacillation between faith and doubt. Haigh superbly creates her characters, flaws and all. Haigh also does an exceptional job making Boston itself permeate accents, dialect, family relationships, jobs, class, Catholicism, and so on—the city itself is a main character. Highly recommended.
27. Little Men by Louisa May Alcott (American literature) Rating: 3.5
Some have suggested Louisa May Alcott was a one-hit wonder in writing Little Women, and so far, that’s totally true. Prior to reading Little Men, I had also read Alcott’s An Old-Fashioned Girl, and both suffer from unbelievable preachiness. In Little Men, we meet Jo March, now Mrs. Behr, who runs a school for boys. In each chapter, she applies a teacherly behavioral trick or expounds on some educational philosophy that, though probably quite novel in 19th-century America, is just sort of annoying. Still, I did appreciate how much Alcott seemed to genuinely love children—their spirit, imagination, wackiness. That is where Little Men shines, which pulls it above the wretched An Old-Fashioned Girl.
28. Skippy Dies by Paul Murray (contemporary literature) Rating: 4.5
This was the second Reader’s Ink book club book. Pushing 700 pages, this book of adolescent boy humor, death, lust, and about 400 other themes has a lot more to it than meets the eye. Set at Seabrook, an all-boy Catholic school in Dublin, a boy named Skippy dies. Like, on the first page. The rest of the book backtracks to find out WHY. Murray’s prose is unpredictable, ironic, vulgar, and poetic—often within the same sentence. The themes are big: past vs. future, young vs. old, love vs. hate. And more. Totally recommended.
29. Minding Frankie by Maeve Minchy (contemporary literature) Rating: 3
In Ireland, a bit of a screw-up (Noel) finds out he’s about to be a daddy, due to some quick fling approximately 9 months prior. The mom is terminally ill, and dies 20 minutes after Frankie is born. To ward off the cranky judgmental social worker, the whole village of wacky characters pitches in to help raise the baby. The concept is charming, but there’s nothing remarkable about this book. Nothing terrible, nothing spectacular. One particular gripe is that the novel contains an insanely large number of characters, and an equal number of subplots, told mostly via backstory which can make for tiresome reading.
32. The Distant Hours by Kate Morton (contemporary literature) Rating: 4.5
Oh, how I love books like this one. A gothic tale, through and through, we meet Edie, a London book editor, who stumbles upon an old letter of her mother’s. This takes her to Milderhurst Castle, where a set of old-lady twins dwell and where Edie’s mother had temporarily lived as a child during WWII. At close to 600 pages, the mystery unwinds slowly and with great detail. Although some detail is a bit excessive, Morton creates fascinating characters and tells an intricately fabulous story. Perfect for a stormy night or a winter day by a fire. And on the final pages I had honest-to-goodness goosebumps—and I was sitting on a beach on a summer day. Loved it. 33. Conversations With Lillian Hellman, Edited by Jackson R. Byer (autobiography/literary criticism) Rating: 4
I have a soft spot for cranky yet spunky playwright Lillian Hellman (1905–1984), and this large collection of interviews follows her career up to the early 1980s. The topics range from her views of the theater to communism to McCarthyism to her own writing. Interestingly, the nostalgia with which Hellman looks back on some parts of her past invokes an even greater sense of “old” Hollywood. I had to research all sorts of wacky Hellman factoids and transcribed lots of interviews for what is, in my (totally biased) opinion, the best biography on Lillian Hellman to date (and I've read several): Lillian Hellman: A Life of Foxes and Scoundrels by Deborah Martinson. As for this collection, some content is repetitive as Hellman tells some stories over again to a different audience, but in general it’s a fun read to get lost in her slightly alcoholic, cigarette smoke–filled world.34. The House on Oyster Creek by Heidi Jon Schmidt (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
I liked this book much more than I expected to. Charlotte (best name ever!) and her much older, brainy and unlikeable husband inherit a home on Cape Cod, near a working-class town that depends on oyster farming to keep the locals afloat. Locals vs. tourists clash, and of course Charlotte finds herself falling for one of the calloused-handed oyster farmers. Pity that she’s married. The writing is fantastic, the dynamics among all the inhabitants are nuanced and complex, breaking away from stereotypes. I also really loved the depiction of the relationship between Charlotte and her toddler daughter, Fiona. It seemed just-right quirky and totally genuine. Recommended.
35. Girls in Pants: The Third Summer of the Sisterhood (young adult) Rating: 3.75
This third book of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series brings us to the summer before the girls depart for their freshman year of college. Plots are thin and sentences are pushed and stretched and, well, rather annoying lyoverdone. Yet, I still like the characters enough, because after all, this is the Sisterhood and we love the Sisterhood. Still, my least favorite in the series, so far. We shall see how book four does.
36. Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand by Helen Simonson (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
The fourth book for the book club, Major Pettigrew won me over. The premise? After being widowed for some time in the English countryside, old-fashioned Major Pettigrew begins falling for Mrs. Ali, a Pakastini immigrant. The prose is subtle, ironic, and very funny, and the themes are big: young vs. old, identity, “philosophical rigidity,” and then some. The book is deliberately slow-paced. One friend of mine read it while sipping earl-grey tea, which would be a delightful way to more fully enjoy this darling read.
37. Chasing Superwoman: A Working Mom’s Adventures in Life and Faith by Susan DiMickele (religion/women’s studies) Rating: 4
38. The Girl Who Would Speak for the Dead by Paul Elwork (contemporary literature) Rating: 4
Within a pair of somewhat odd, 13-year-old twins, the sister (Emily) discovers she can crack her ankle in such a way that she convinces folks she’s communicating with the dead. But once she starts tinkering with people’s grief, things begin to spiral from fun to not so fun. Set in 1925, this delightfully mysterious, atmospheric story is beautifully written. Worth a read.
39. On Prayer and the Contemplative Life by St. Thomas Aquinas (religion) Rating: 3.5
Written by the 13-century Catholic priest, philosopher, and theologian, St. Thomas Aquinas, this is no easy read. The fact I’m Protestant, not Catholic, made the going a bit tough, as some concepts presented were entirely foreign to me, such as, well, sainthood. St. Augustine (with whom I’m more familiar) then gave his two cents here and there. Overall, I walked away from this with greater understanding of Catholicism, and, perhaps not too surprising, evidence that Catholics and Protestants have SO much in common. Lots of nuggets to glean, even 700 years later. However, read this one sitting UP. And, preferably, with medieval choral music playing in the back ground.
40. Remarkable Creatures by Tracy Chevalier (historical literature) Rating: 4.5
Set in the early 1800s in a seaside town, a spinster and a young, uneducated woman (Mary Anning, who existed in real life) befriend each other as they discover fossils of extinct creatures. Such new ideas—extinction—create some turmoil in the town and the scientific community at large. A wholly entertaining, literary look at early fossil hunting and science.41. Apartment 16 by Adam Nevill (thriller) Rating: 3.5
In an old, hoity-toity collection of London flats, Apartment 16 is haunted. Nevill starts out strong with intense suspense and scariness and then we unfortunately veer off into the grotesque. The icky. And, well, with that, we lose the artful building of plot and suspense. The novel is mostly well written and the plot fully fleshed out, but overwritten scene after scene of ugliness took much away. Really, one or two vile scenes would have sufficed.
42. Evolution: What the Fossils Say and Why It Matters by Donald Prothero (science) Rating: 3.5
Published by Columbia University Press but intended for a lay audience (albeit an educated one), this tome of current fossil research and discovery is vital reading for anyone genuinely interested in how creatures—human and nonhuman—got here. Prothero debunks myths and contextualizes quotes or studies that creationists have taken out of context. Although Prothero rightly criticizes the sheer anti-intellectualism and often slimy tactics that many (possibly well-meaning) creationist advocates have demonstrated, his scorn does get old after awhile. Perhaps the final chapter, in which Prothero makes a plea to the reader, is the most profound. Citing the U.S.’s dwindling knowledge in science, particularly among schoolchildren, Prothero shows exactly why understanding science—even within the context of deep faith—is so vitally important for our country, our kiddos, and the future of, well, humanity. Recommended, with the caveat that I had to check this book out from the library no less than 3 times to finish it.43. Silent on the Moor by Deanna Raybourn (mystery) Rating: 4
Call me shallow, but I love the Lady Julia Grey mysteries. This, the third in the series, was a little thin on mystery, but in typical Raybourn fashion, the atmosphere, wit, and characters are so fully entertaining, that the book succeeds. Though not a perfect novel, I found myself excited to return to reading it at the end of an evening, and that is why I recommend it.
44. NurtureShock: New Thinking About Children by Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman (parenting/sociology) Rating: 4
This is probably the most level-headed and practical parenting book I’ve had the luck to read. Bronson and Merryman look at actual research and undo all sorts of myths about children. For example, praising your kid for a job well done? Doesn’t help them. You should praise their EFFORT. Baby Einstein? Total crock. And so on. I found myself reading parts out loud to Chris, I found it so interesting. Highly recommended for anyone with kids, grandkids, who works with kids, or who has even a fleeting interest in child psychology.
45. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak (young adult) Rating: 4.5
Narrated by Death, The Book Thief takes place in Germany during WWII. Liesel, essentially orphaned after her parents are arrested, lives with a new family, makes a dear friend, and steals books as she comes of age. Although the rhythm of the book (remember, Death is our narrator) takes some time to get used to, I eventually eased into it and found the novel to be one of the most breathtaking young adult books I’ve read. 46. The Gift of Rest: Rediscovery the Beauty of the Sabbath by Sen. Joe Lieberman (religion) Rating: 3.5
I deeply admire the Jewish faith, and I think Senator Lieberman is a pretty decent guy. I respect anyone ballsy enough to get elected as an independent. At any rate, I heard him on POTUS during a morning commute, plugging his new book about the Sabbath in his typical soft-spoken tone (you know, the antithesis of Michele Bachmann—but I digress). And, well, the Sabbath is one of those things I love in theory and fall short of in practicality. Lieberman takes the reader through a typical Jewish Shabbat, step by step, with a few personal anecdotes thrown in. I certainly wasn’t blown away, but I came away with a much better understanding of Sabbath/Shabbat and felt more compelled to, well, at least TRY to do more on Saturday, less on Sunday.
47. Keeping the Moon by Sarah Dessen (young adult) Rating: 4
A high-school outcast has to go to a small North Carolina beach town for a summer and live with her wacky aunt. There, she gets a grip on who she actually is,and comes of age. I’ve been meaning to read one of Dessen’s books forever. As I started this one, I couldn’t figure out what the big fat deal was with Dessen, but as I progressed and then finished, I realized that she IS very good. The writing is tight, believable, and has depth. The voice is genuinely teen, not adult-trying-to-write-teen, which also gives her a gold star. I plan to read more of Dessen.
48. Sex, Mom, and God: How the Bible's Strange Take on Sex Led to Crazy Politics--And How I Learned to Love Women (and Jesus) Anyway by Frank Schaeffer (religion) Rating: 3.75
What a strange book this is. Schaeffer, who grew up within the bigwig evangelical circles, and was even a hyper-conservative evangelical leader himself as an adult, eventually comes to believe his upbringing has been a crock and he’s now on a mission to expose the seedy underside of flawed religious people. The tone is patronizing, and some of Shaeffer’s connections are weak, but on the whole, the writing is actually very, very good. He shines when discussing his hilarious, sex-obsessed yet wholly pious mother, or on the inner workings of fundamentalist/conservative Christian circles, but his opinions get old by the time he expands to politics at large. Still, some dead-on observations I’ve witnessed my own self: On strong women in Evangelical circles: “The male pastor is just a necessary figurehead kept there by smart, sincere women whose only creative outlet is their religion because religion is all they were ever allowed to ‘do’ with a clear conscience, other than have babies” (p. 30). And finally, Schaeffer deftly (if a bit snidely, but who can blame him?) examines the huge rise in women practically BEGGING to “submit” to the “head,” of their family, the husband/father. Of course, Schaeffer exposes one woman (her name escapes me now—doh!) who hugely promoted this lie, insisting women stay home, give up careers, and coddle their menfolk. The delicious irony? She (ahem) made a CAREER out of it, cranking out books, starting a business, and speaking all over the country. Huh. Of course, perfectly respectable theologians and others have made this much less wacky and far more “respectable” than is imaginable: “Neoconservative intellectuals like Neuhaus helped set the stage for the Quiverfull [think “Meet the Duggars”] and Patriarchy Movements [Titus women who think women must submit and stay home]. They gave a gloss of intellectual respectability to what was nothing more than a theocratic, Far Right wish list.” Finally, Schaeffer’s most poignant example of why evangelical/fundamentalist/super conservatives might want to back off and bring the rhetoric down a notch: “Another name for uncertainty is humility. Nobody ever blew up a mosque, church, or abortion clinic after yelling, ‘I could be wrong’” (p. 73). In the end, hugely interesting but sort of annoying. A strange, strange book that I didn't really like but that really made me think. 49. The Chosen One by Carol Lynch Williams (young adult) Rating: 4.5
Set in the Utah desert within a polygamist cult, a young 14-year-old or so girl is betrothed—by the cult leader—to her old, abusive, icky UNCLE. Thus, she must get out of it. A brave book to be written by a Brigham Young University alum. Highly recommended to anyone interested in young adult literature. 50. The Weird Sisters by Eleanor Brown (contemporary literature) Rating: 3.75
Three sisters—daughters of a Shakespearean professor at the local college—come home for various reasons, which also coincide with their mother’s breast cancer. There, the dynamics of their sisterly rivalry unfold, as do their stories. Trouble is, it seems that the vast majority of the novel is told in backstory, and the sisters are really unlikeable. Not weird—weird I like. No, just unlikeable. What was unique to this book was a plural first-person (first-people?) narrator(s), from the perspective of the sisters. But it felt a little gimicky and robbed the individual sisters of their voices.There you have it. Bring on 2012!
Lots of great books you read last year. I really enjoyed reading all your blurbs about them. I just finished White Fang by Jack London and really enjoyed it, so was excited to hear Call of the Wild was just as good. Also since you enjoy religion/women books I suggest reading Captivating (can't think of the author...). It was probably my favorite book I read this year. Looking forward to this year's list :)
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