Book Reviews – Page 31

Dark Matter by Blake Crouch

I would never have expected this to be my first read of the new year. In truth, I never would have opened this sci-fi thriller, except for a favorite bookstore customer.

He’s an older gentleman (OK, not that much older) who brings in his once read, bestseller hardbacks to donate — we love patrons like this. Often, he’ll press one into my hands and recommend I read it before donating. His reading tastes run to spy thrillers and political intrigue, so I usually take a look but then put them in the donation box after he’s left.

This time, however, I opened Dark Matter and sat down at the register to give it a try — half an hour later, customers were clearing their throats and uttering plaintive “excuse me”s to get my attention.

I took it home, read very late into the night and then finished it the next (luckily, rainy) morning.

It’s going to be tough to tell you about Dark Matter without spoiling it.

Suffice it to say ….

This is the story of Jason who has a pretty great life, a wife, a son, a comfortable home. He has regrets, a lackluster career, missed opportunities, but overall, he’s content. Walking home, after meeting a friend at a bar, he is abducted and, just before he is injected with a serum, is asked; “Are you happy with your life?”.

He wakes to find his family gone. Not dead, not abducted, but gone — they never existed. His home isn’t where it should be, his life as he knew it, never was. Dark Matter is the tale of Jason trying to get back to the life he so loves.

Like most of us, only after this loss does Jason fully realize that he has (whoops had) everything he could ever want. The power of this love, the anguish of the loss, and his journey to find his (now) lost life is the premise of Dark Matter.

But, that makes the story sound simple and it’s anything but. There’s quantum physics (there’s even a reference to Schrödinger’s cat, which my scientist sister had to explain to me). There are parallel universes (yes that’s plural). And there’s dark matter:

Most astrophysicists believe that the force holding stars and galaxies together—the thing that makes our whole universe work—comes from a theoretical substance we can’t measure or observe directly. Something they call dark matter.

Mr. Crouch writes for television* and his style reflects that medium. The writing simple but powerful.

He also writes in very short sentences.

And fragments.

Like this.

So, you see.

Why it is a quick read.

The other reason Dark Matter is a quick read is that it is ruthlessly compelling. Just when you think you got it, and you know where the book is going – Mr. Crouch hurdles you in whole new direction. I found myself empathizing with poor Jason throughout his quest to get his life back, imagining his turmoil, his loss as my own.

No one tells you it’s all about to change, to be taken away. There’s no proximity alert, no indication that you’re standing on the precipice. And maybe that’s what makes tragedy so tragic. Not just what happens, but how it happens: a sucker punch that comes at you out of nowhere, when you’re least expecting. No time to flinch or brace.

I’m sure you can tell that Dark Matter surprised me. At first appearance this is a sci-fi thriller — in the style of Patterson or Koonz. But the story line is insightful, human and will cause the reader to contemplate their own life and their choices. It’s the Road Not Taken – on a whole new level.

It’s terrifying when you consider that every thought we have, every choice we could possibly make, creates a new world.

Yes, Dark Matter is an adrenaline-fueled thriller, a keep you up all night page turner, but what keeps it from being a cliche is Jason — an authentic, faithful and heart-warming hero, or should I say heroes? – (whoops enough said).

Well, I didn’t see that coming, my first book of the new year – way — way outside of my reading comfort zone and, much to my surprise I fell hard for this book. It’s high entertainment with a heart.

*Mr. Crouch is the creator/writer behind one of my favorite TV series Good Behavior, as well as Wayward Pines (which I don’t know)

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The Day I Became an Autodidact by Kendall Hailey

It’s going to rain all weekend, so I just returned from the nutso grocery stores and I’m hunkering in to do some January clean outs. You know, that pile of old tee shirts that I imagine I’ll wear at the gym (if I ever went to the gym) or those stacks of CD’s I never play anymore.

But instead (you knew this was coming) I headed to a seldom used bookshelf in the guest room and searched for books to get rid of. Books are much more fun to sort through than tee shirts.

I came across this book which, from my notes inside, I read in 1990 – a year after it was published.

Should it stay or should it go? Let’s see, shall we?

The Day I Became an Autodidact,

and the Advice, Adventures, and Acrimonies That Befell Me Thereafter

by Kendall Hailey

First, because I had to look it up:

Autodidact: a person who has learned a subject without the benefit of a teacher or formal education; a self-taught person.

You may remember one of my favorite books A Woman of Independent Means by Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey. This autobiography, cum journal comes to us from her precocious daughter when she was just a teenager.

At age fifteen, Kendall decided to throw off the shackles of a formal education after receiving her high school summer reading list:

“Being told what to read by someone else is a violation of basic human rights. Or at least basic literary ones.”

So she graduates high school early, and pursues her own intellectual and artistic interests, at home with her fabulously oddball family – her novelist mother and her father, playwright Oliver Hailey. This is her account of the journey.

Each entry begins with (capitalization is all hers):

WHAT I HOPE TO DO: (Get a Head Start on Reading Everything Ever Published); and ends with WHAT I DID (Had a bumpy first date with Dostoevsky).

Kendall tears through Roman history and Greek plays. Upon reading Aristophanes, she writes:

“Plays about the gods are always fun. It is so comforting to think such cut-ups are running the universe.”

As I thumb through this book, I find my underlining throughout — who would not find an eclectic kindred spirit in a teen who reads and raves about Pride and Prejudice, Life With Father, Anna Karenina and The Murder of Roger Ackroyd.

She raves about Will and Ariel Durrant (whom I’ve never attempted) but I agree with her on Henry James:

“Several readers were reported lost for years in a Henry James sentence.”

The Hailey family is no doubt privileged — they jet off to England to purchase a third home and hobnob at Sardi’s after Broadway openings. Throughout it all, Kendall is a typical teenager, but with an old soul. She has a boyfriend, of sorts:

“We talked for an hour and a half until he had to leave for the orthodontist. It is hard to talk too seriously of love with someone who still has to go to the orthodontist.”

And, has normal teenage angst:

“I have discovered that it does not really matter if I write, read or am nice to people. All that matters is that I lose weight.”

Kendall’s view on nuclear war, while simplistic, struck a cord with me:

“I think everyone who has the power to start a nuclear war should be made to see Our Town at least once a day — until the last thing they want is the power to destroy life. If they could see how precious one life is, perhaps they would stop seeing nine hundred million lives as an endurable loss.”

At times, she is wise beyond her years:

“The world is much too random a place for any of us ever to end up with exactly what we want, but then very few of us are bright enough to know exactly what we want.”

I remember I found The Day I Became an Autodidact schizophrenic — at times irritating, entitled and narcissistic — but also funny, charming and whip smart – just like any normal teenager.

The book is staying for a re-read – now, back to my pile of tee shirts.

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After yesterday’s post…

A kind Book Barmy reader sent this to me after yesterday’s post…

Excuse me, but I think I’ll go fondle my books…

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Odd, Very Odd

2016 was a very odd year on many levels, and now we’re into 2017, which promises to be even odder.

While sipping New Years Eve champagne with friends, I realized 2016, for most everyone, was rubbish – absolute rubbish (I love the British term — rubbish — so much nicer than — garbage)

For me, odd 2016 was a year of being distracted and worried about so many things over which I had no control or influence and yet it affected everything in my life – especially my reading .

Even that normally quiet week between Christmas and New Years was a conga line of interruptions and mad activity. I finished only one (only one!) of my Christmas books. 2016 was very odd:

I lost my reading mojo.

I didn’t do as much reading as I’d planned or even hoped.

I have a toppling stack of books abandoned after reading a few chapters

I had the attention span of a gnat.

So, as I slowly put away the Christmas decorations for another year, it suddenly hit me. For most of the past year I’ve been freaking tired – not sleep deprived tired — but bone weary, beat with sticks, sick of it all tired…

My New Years resolution is to give myself permission to restore.

Restore my focus

Restore just being still

Restore also getting out and being more active

Restore my connection with things that fill me with quiet, simple happiness – a daily walk on the beach, my garden, going out with friends, trying new recipes, my new bicycle, writing a letter or two ~~ and yes reading, but not just reading – but focusing and falling into a book — hard.

A friend just posted this on their Facebook page (see, no attention span, I bounced over to Facebook, even as I write this blog post…)

Hello 2017, as odd as you may be, I’ll be ready for you — after I’ve had a rest.

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Hygge days

It’s my favorite part of the holiday season – that lovely week between Christmas and New Years. When I put on my music and snuggle up in my reading nook.

But I’ll take a short break to tell you about an article a friend mentioned from the Sunday New York Times.

It’s all about wintering the Danish way and the concept of Hygge (pronounced HOO-gah) ~~ the Danish word for cozy.

Hygee

(don’t you love saying it? Come on everyone, all together now, ~~ HOO-gah)

is the constant pursuit of homey pleasures involving candlelight, fires, fuzzy knitted socks, porridge, coffee, cake and other people. Yes, I mummered to myself that’s exactly what this week is all about, Hygge. (Except for the porridge bit, shudder.)

You can read the article HERE

I promise to report back soon with my reading adventures.

Happy Hygee everyone.

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And to all a good night…

A favorite post from last Christmas Eve.

In Iceland, it is a Christmas Eve tradition to give a book as a gift.

This is called Jólabókaflóð, or the Christmas Book Flood.

At Christmas the sun doesn’t rise until 11 am and it’s dark by 3 PM.

So after a brisk (and chilly!) afternoon walk around town with the rest of their neighbors, the whole family snuggles into their homes with a hot drink and to read their new books.

Wishing all my fellow book lovers a traditional Jólabókaflóð ~~

and to all a good night ~~

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Soon — Very Soon

I’m on the home stretch of Christmas preparations. Knitting projects whittled down to a final few. Presents wrapped, boxed and shipped – mostly. Christmas cards mailed (yes I still send some real cards). Cookies are made and boxed to distribute. The tree is up and decorated. Just a few last minute decorations and gifts to sort out.

So it’s beginning to look like ~~~ Ho Ho Ho ~~~ holiday reading time Soon — very soon I keep telling myself.

Here’s my pile of carefully chosen Christmas books, standing at the ready next to my reading chair.

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Every December an envelope bearing a stamp from the North Pole would arrive for J.R.R. Tolkien’s children. Inside would be a letter in a strange, spidery handwriting and a hand-colored drawing. This book contains all the letters J.R.R. Tolkien wrote to his children in the guise of Father Christmas from the first to his eldest son in 1920 right through to the last one he wrote to his only daughter in 1943. Each letter purports to be an account of various adventures that happen to Father Christmas and elves. I’ve briefly dipped into this lovely book. It’s filled with reproductions of the actual hand calligraphy and drawings Tolkien created –and I couldn’t resist — this beautiful book had to belong in my Christmas book collection. Here’s just a sample.

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This is the first in a mystery series featuring the Armenian dective Gregor Demarkian. I’ve never read any of these so grabbed this for $2 at the big book sale. Here’s the summary:

The Hannaford who made the family fortune called himself a tycoon. The newspapers called him a robber baron. Since the days of Robert Hannaford I, the family has infested Philadelphia society like a disease. The current Hannafords are a clan of embezzlers, gamblers, and fantasy novelists. This Christmas, they have money in their bank accounts, crime in their blood, and murder on their minds.

Gregor Demarkian is their reluctant guest. A former FBI agent who quit the agency after his wife’s death, he is invited by the Hannaford patriarch to come for dinner at the family mansion. Demarkain arrives just in time to find his host bludgeoned to death in his study and his investigation will lead him to the Hannafords, a family of cold-blooded killers.

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This book came into our young adult section at the bookstore. It’s part of a series called “Dear America” which tell historical events through fictional characters.

In April of 1917, Simone Spencer’s world changes. Her beloved brother Will goes off to war, and Simone seeks a way to help. The passionate daughter of a feisty French mother and a rebellious upper-class father, Simone is not cut out for the society life she is meant to lead.

So, when General Pershing calls for French-speaking American girls to operate the switchboards on the Western Front, Simone becomes one of the first to sign up and keeps a diary of her life as a brave “Hello Girl” whose courage helped lead the Allies to victory.

I borrowed this little book and after reading it will determine if it’s worthy of purchase for my collection.

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This looks like fun. From the back: It’s three days until Christmas and Junior Bender, Hollywood’s fast-talking fixer for the felonious, is up to his ears in shopping mall Santas, Russian mobsters, desperate holiday shoppers, and (’tis the season) murder.
Junior Bender, divorced father of one and burglar extraordinaire, finds himself stuck inside the Edgerton Mall, and not just as a last-minute shopper (though he is that too). Edgerton isn’t exactly the epicenter of holiday cheer, despite its two Santas, canned Christmas music, chintzy bows, and festive lights. The mall is a fossil of an industry in decline; many of its stores are closed, and to make matters worse, there is a rampant shoplifting problem.
The murderous Russian mobster who owns the place has decided it takes a thief to catch a thief and hires Junior—under threat—to solve the shoplifting problem for him. But Junior’s surveillance operation doesn’t go well: as Christmas Eve approaches, two people are dead and it’s obvious that shoplifting is the least of the mall’s problems. To prevent further deaths, possibly including his own, Junior must confront his dread of Christmas—both present and past.

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I’m on the looooong library wait list for this treat from the late P.D. James. Trust me, I can hardly wait, and will drop all the others when my turn comes.

Here’s the blurb from the library catalog:

Four previously unpublished stories from one of the great mystery writers of our time—swift, cunning murder mysteries (two of which feature a young Adam Dalgliesh) that together, to borrow the author’s own word, add up to a delightful “entertainment.”
The newly appointed Sgt. Dalgliesh is drawn into a case that is “pure Agatha Christie.” . . . A “pedantic, respectable, censorious” clerk’s secret taste for pornography is only the first reason he finds for not coming forward as a witness to a murder . . . A best-selling crime novelist describes the crime she herself was involved in fifty years earlier . . . Dalgliesh’s godfather implores him to reinvestigate a notorious murder that might ease the godfather’s mind about an inheritance, but which will reveal a truth that even the supremely upstanding Adam Dalgliesh will keep to himself. Each of these stories is as playful as it is ingeniously plotted, the author’s sly humor as evident as her hallmark narrative elegance and shrewd understanding of some of the most complex—not to say the most damning—aspects of human nature. A treat for P. D. James’s legions of fans and anyone who enjoys the pleasures of a masterfully wrought whodunit.

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For now I have a few more Christmas preparations, there are some fun events to attend, and not forgetting our annual dinner downtown combined with visiting the holiday window light displays.

But soon I’ll be in my happy place, Christmas tea mug in hand, carols softly playing and reading ~~ there’s even more rain predicted in a few days. We need more rain and, as I’m sure you’ll agree — it’s the perfect reading weather.

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Take me away…

I’m guessing you may be in the mood to escape and, as it just so happens, I have some reading recommendations to take you away for a bit (you’re quite welcome).

Taking you away to one of my favorite guilty reading pleasures – Time Travel.

Now don’t scoff, this genre is tricky – one false move and the novel is relegated to those dusty bookstore shelves of either fantasy or science fiction.

Accomplished authors convince the reader that time travel is not only credible, but enticingly possible. Like watching a magician perform or a classic Disney movie — the reader is happily ensconced between reality and make believe. Bring it on, I say — bring it on.

And so, without further ado, my favorite time travel tales…

A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, by Mark Twain (Samuel L. Clemens)

Near, and dear to my heart, this was my introduction to time travel, aged 12, sitting on the floor of my grandfather’s library, this book spread open in front of me.

In 1889, a practical Yankee is hit on the head and wakes up in England — in the year 528. He fools the inhabitants of the time into thinking that he is a magician and becomes Sir Boss of the Round Table. The Yankee believes that he is the saving grace for the people of Camelot, using capitalism as his means to set them free. The societal commentary and satire was above my head during that first reading. But upon adult re-reading, the lampooning of social class institutions and of inherited rank is pure Twain — witty (but sobering) sarcasm.

Here’s my cherished original copy from my grandfather’s library.

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A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle

I also read this as a young girl and have re-read it several times since. A Wrinkle in Time is written for young adults but can be enjoyed at any age. Winner of the 1963 Newbery award, it spins a captivating tale, which opens (wait for it) on a dark and stormy night. Meg Murray, her little brother Charles Wallace, and their mother are having a midnight snack when an unearthly stranger appears at their door. He claims to have been blown off course, and goes on to tell them that there is such a thing as a ‘tesseract’, or a wrinkle in time. Meg’s father had been experimenting with time-travel when he suddenly disappeared. Meg, Charles Wallace, and their friend Calvin venture to outwit the forces of evil as they search through space for their father. Pure fantasy, pure delight.

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Time and Again by Jack Finney

When asked about my all time favorite books — Time and Again has a permanent place on that list. I have bought and given away many copies of this book over the years.

In 1970, Simon Morley, an advertising sketch artist, is approached by U.S. Army to participate in a secret government project, which involves — in case you haven’t been paying attention here — yes, time travel.

Simon or ‘Si’, as he’s called, jumps at the chance to leave his twentieth-century existence and step into 1882 New York City. Aside from his thirst for experience, he has good reason to return to the past—his girlfriend Kate has a curious, half-burned letter dated from that year, which holds a mystery about her lineage. But when Si begins to fall in love with a woman he meets in the past, he will be forced to choose between two worlds—forever.

What sets this classic time travel novel apart from any other is the detail, the exquisite illustrations and curated photographs. Mr. Finney’s highly detailed descriptions bring the period to life – from the interior of the Dakota residence to the often pock-marked faces of the people, unprotected (as they were then) from small pox.

Warning, these descriptions may slow you down, but that’s fine, as this is a book to be read slowly and richly savored.

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Kindred by Octavia E. Butler

Equal parts time travel and slave narrative, this novel is still as popular as it was when it was first published in 1979.

Often studied as high school required reading, Kindred is the first-person account of a young African-American writer, Dana, who finds herself shuttled between her California home in 1976 and a pre-Civil War Maryland plantation. There she meets her ancestors: a spoiled, self-destructive white slave owner and the proud black freewoman he has forced into slavery and concubinage (I checked, yes, that’s a word…). As her journeys into the past become longer, Dana becomes intimately entangled with the plantation community, making difficult compromises to survive slavery and to ensure her existence in her own time.

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The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger

A highly imaginative novel in which the author has combined time travel with the intricacies of love, marriage, children, sickness, loss, joy and sorrow.

Henry is a time traveler, although not by choice. A genetic mutation causes him to spontaneously travel through time without warning and he finds himself in the past or future, usually at a time or place of importance in his life. Clare, his wife has been with him through most all his time travels, and his various life stages. She waits for each of his visits throughout the years until they can meet in real time. Together they hold fast to their love and attempt to have some semblance of a normal life.

This is a complex story, and even with Henry shuttling back and forth in every chapter, the author deftly keeps the plot clear, compelling and, at times heartbreaking. But, as the Washington Post said, this is
“ a love that works despite all travails and impediments.”

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A Murder in Time by Julie McElwain

I just finished my most recent time travel read the other night. Kendra is a tough FBI agent who goes rouge in order to assassinate the killer who brought down half her FBI team mates. She pursues the killer to Aldrich Castle in England and hides in a stair well only to emerge still in the same castle — but in regency-era 1815.

Mistaken for a lady’s maid hired to help with weekend guests, Kendra is forced to quickly adapt to the time period until she can figure out how she got there; and, more importantly, how to get back home. However, after the body of a young girl is found on the grounds of the county estate, she starts to feel there’s some purpose to her bizarre circumstances. Stripped of her twenty-first century FBI tools, Kendra must use her wits alone in order to unmask a cunning serial killer.

Pure entertainment with enough action and adventure to keep the reader entertained. Kendra, and her bad-ass self, turn the 19th century on its ear.

A digital review copy was provided by Pegasus Books via NetGalley

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So, dear Book Barmy readers, choose any of these books to take you away — away from your worries to these wonderful tales of other times — and other places.

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Book Barmy Birthday!

Given the last week or so, I forgot it was Book Barmy’s birthday.

It’s been four years (more or less) since the birth of this tiny little blog.

It all started with my scribbled book notebooks and Connie, my artistic and talented web designer, and now — well, shut the door — there’s all of you.

While I could plan a celebration…

I know you’ll understand, if instead, I celebrate this way…

I especially appreciate (and acknowledge) you turning a blind eye to my run-on sentences and errant punctuation — not to mention my often overwrought writing style. Not forgetting the often curmudgeonly rants and raves.

I love when you come by to visit Book Barmy and make a comment — I cherish every one.

Because of you, my loyal readers, this blog is now one of my favorite things in a wonderfully full, yet admittedly, barmy life.

HERE’s my very first post.

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Just not for me…

I recently read two books , well one I read and the other I abandoned, but neither were for me. I’ve decided that’s OK, as Simon, one of my favorite book bloggers says — someone else may love these novels.

This is Your Life, Harriet Chance!

by Jonathan Evison

I was initially drawn to this novel, because of its unique premise, which mirrors the 1950’s television series “This is your life”. In the show, a famous person’s life was re-told with flashbacks to life changing moments, the places they lived, the important people who played a vital part in said lives. See a sample of the show HERE.

The cover gives the appearance of a light-hearted novel (there I go again judging a book by its cover). Harriet is 78, her husband has recently died and she decides to go on an Alaskan cruise he planned before he got Alzheimer’s.

Ahh, a cheery-new-lease-on-life story you would think…but we are being led terribly astray. There is nothing cheery about Harriet Chance’s life.

Like the television show, we go back and forth in time to experience Harriet Chance’s life. But her life is littered with bitter heartbreak. There are betrayals at every turn. And the litany of tragedy goes on and on — there’s child molestation, rape, unwanted pregnancy, unfaithful marriage, alcoholism, drug addiction and as a final blow, bitter adult children trying to get her money. After awhile, I stopped keeping count of the awful events in hapless Harriet’s life.

As added angst, Harriet’s mean, dead husband appears to her in a caught-between-life-and-death role, which never feels fully developed and causes Harriet’s children to harbor suspicions about their mother’s mental stability.

The author is remorseless in his portrayal of seniors and dementia. Harriet herself is characterized as a terrible mother, a distant wife and a bitter old women. Her husband’s Alzheimer’s is portrayed with sneering and unfeeling sarcasm.

I kept reading, hoping for a ray of sunshine in this story, some sort of redeeming act or event that would make Harriet’s life, if not great, then at least OK. But nope, there is nothing — nothing to resurrect poor Harriet’s life

This is Your Life Harriet Chance! (I never really got the use of the exclamation point) is well written, but one of the most depressing books I have ever read.

A digital review copy was provided by Algonquin Books via NetGalley

The Bookshop on the Corner

by Jenny Colgan

The Bookshop on the Corner, came home with me from the library’s new arrivals shelf. I’m a sucker for a book about books or a bookshop and this one is set in Scotland – double points. Took it to bed with me that evening and set it down after five or six chapters and went to sleep somewhat disappointed.

In the morning I checked some of the reviews and publicity for this novel and found I was in the distinct minority. Ms. Colgan’s novel has been liked by one and all — just not me.

Nina, a recently laid-off librarian decides to travel to one of Scotland’s remotest areas. She discovers their library is closed and there is no bookmobile. So she decides to move up there with her vast collection of books and buy a van from which to sell her books throughout this remote corner of Scotland. Ah ha, this book is not about a bookshop, it’s about a book van – well I guess that’s OK, I’ll keep reading. After all Parnassus on Wheels was one of my favorite books.

But, turns out this is chick lit – disguised as a book for book lovers. Straining all credibility, there’s a handsome train engineer who leaves Russian poetry books for Nina in tree branches – really?. And just as in The Little Paris Bookshop, Nina feels compelled to recommend books to solve every problem or malady, with trite results.

I finally returned the book to the library, when I got tired of the Scots Nina encounters being uncharitably portrayed as if caricatures — less than bright and seldom clean.

I just couldn’t take any more.

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