Category: What I’m Reading

My Amazon and Goodreads review of The Female Persuasion (Rating 4): Sympathy for Slowy the Turtle – Having come of age in the women’s movement (I entered college the same year Betty Friedman’s The Feminine Mystique was published), I was eager to read Meg Wolitzer’s The Female Persuasion. Alas, my enthusiasm was dampened by the first part of the book. The main character begins as a cipher and never develops. Her progression from a student with an inside voice to a young woman with an outside voice is unconvincing. However, the depth and sensitivity with which Wolitzer portrays the other characters — from the Gloria Steinem stand-in to the less-than-upstanding rich boy supporter of her feminist foundation — makes the book worth reading. Even Slowy the turtle evokes sympathy. Rather than painting a successful big-picture of an evolving social movement, Wolitzer shines in the small enduring portraits of friendship and family.

My Amazon and Goodreads review of Lizzie (Rating 5): From Mild Anxiety to Full Blown Fugue State – In her modern day re-imagining of the story of Lizzie Borden, Dawn Ius brings a figure of childhood rhyme and folk song to life. Lizzie immerses readers in the psyche of a talented but stifled young woman, whose abusive family and conservative community hold her back. We share Lizzie’s urge toward freedom, wincing at her pain and soaring during her rare moments of joy. Building to the climax, Ius takes Lizzie from mild anxiety to a full blown fugue state. Readers will be tempted to wield a culinary knife, if not a hatchet, by the book’s end.

My Amazon and Goodreads review of The Taste of Cigarettes: A Memoir of a Heroin Addict (Rating 5): Soars with Poetry, Sears With Pain – Jon Vreeland’s memoir, The Taste of Cigarettes, is a detailed and vivid description of a junkie’s nightmare existence. Just when readers think his body can’t take more abuse, we descend into yet another graphic tale of life off the rails and in the gutter. Such is the nature of addiction and Vreeland renders the endless search for the next fix in language that soars with poetry and sears with pain. Only the haunting anguish of permanent separation from his young daughters finally pushes him across the line from overdose to recovery, from obsession to redemption. Vreeland has written a hell of a book that ends on a rushing updraft of hope.

My Amazon and Goodreads review of Shores Beyond Shores: From Holocaust to Hope: My True Story (Rating 5): Surviving on the Strength of Family – For over 40 years, Nazi Holocaust survivor Irene Butter remained silent about the horrors of her childhood. In her mid-50s, she decided she had to speak out. Now in her late 80s, she has engaged for decades in memorial, educational, and peace-building efforts. Shores Beyond Shores is her most recent contribution to guaranteeing that the lessons of the Holocaust are remembered and applied. What makes this story unique is the focus on her family. Through tenacity, abetted by good fortune, Irene, her parents, and older brother stayed together throughout their concentration camp years. Amid the nightmare stories, Butter and her collaborators John Bidwell and Kris Holloway also capture the humor of bantering siblings, the confidences shared by friends, the sacrifices of those who refused to lose their humanity and dignity, even the tenderness of first love. To read and share this book is to help Irene and other survivors carry on their work and spread their message of hope.

 

My Amazon and Goodreads review of The House of Broken Angels (Rating 4): A Multicolor Portrait of a Multi-generational Mexican-American Family – In his vivid multi-generational tale of a Mexican-American family, Luis Alberto Urrea offers up fallen angels (husbands, fathers, sons, brothers) and caregiving saints (wives, mothers, daughters, sisters). At times, I had trouble remembering the identities of third or even second generation characters, a confusion exacerbated by their multiple nicknames. And, even in context, the meaning of some Spanish expressions eluded me. Despite these gaps, I was drawn into the wild ride of life events and complicated relationships among the de la Cruz kin. Some are common to all extended families, others unique to a culture proud of itself yet shamed by a society that regards them as “less than” their white counterparts. Overall, the book has the zest, orneriness, kindness, rage, and spirit of a wild and crowded fiesta.

My Amazon and Goodreads review of Asymmetry (Rating 3): A Self-Referential Title for an Uneven Book — I’m baffled by the advanced buzz for Lisa Halliday’s Asymmetry, a three-part novel with uneven writing. The first section, about a young woman’s relationship with a famous older writer, said to be based on Philip Roth, no doubt explains the reviewers’ swooning. But while the Roth-like character is thankfully not portrayed as a creep (I’m an avid Roth fan), the woman is a cipher — inert and uninteresting. The power asymmetry in the unconnected second part, which confronts America’s war in Iraq, is more complex and promising, but undeveloped. It needs a book of its own. Part three, a fictitious interview with the writer, has extended riffs on the literary life that are worth perusing. However, the time is better spent reading real interviews with, and books written by, the authors one admires.

My Amazon and Goodreads review of Guts (Rating 5): Interweaving Illness, Family, and Friendship — Janet Buttenwieser rewards readers with three connected stories. First, the book is a moving memoir of how she found the confidence to speak up for herself to a medical establishment that claimed to know her body better than she did, and how she trained that body to take physical risks she never thought possible. Second, Guts is an appreciation of family, the body’s extension that sustains us when we’re ready to surrender and magnifies our joy when we’re already past bursting. The book’s third tale, which embodies the other two, is a testimonial to friendship. Buttenwieser honors the late friend who she gained through admiration, lost through inattention, regained through commitment, and lost again to cancer. Guts, guarantees that her friend will live within her, and her readers, forever.

My Amazon review of You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me: A Memoir (Rating 4): An Uneasy Relationship Confronted by an Uneasy Author – I was halfway through Alexie’s memoir when I heard the NPR report about his repeated sexual aggression. It was several days before I could go back to reading the book, incorporating that knowledge. I already knew of Alexie’s anger at the mistreatment of Indians. In his memoir, I learned about his being personally abused too. Neither justifies his abuse toward women. However, I bought and read the book for his insights into his troubled relationship with his mother. My late mother was also a difficult person, so this was an area where I found it easier to empathize with him. Alexie speaks eloquently of his ambivalence toward her, feelings that will never be resolved. However, honest memoirs like his can help fellow travelers on an endless journey toward greater understanding, levels of forgiveness, and letting go while still holding on.

My Amazon review of Midnight’s Children (Rated 3): Jewels Scattered in the Dung Heap – Given that Midnight’s Children (1980) won the “Booker of Bookers,” I should rate Salman Rushdie’s epic story of Indian independence 5 to the 5th stars. Coming to it belatedly, I anticipated both a remedial course in history and a novel of lyrical prose. Alas, I was disappointed on both fronts. Those already familiar with India’s creation may appreciate the inside references, but my enlightenment came from the companion reference books I had to consult, not the text itself. As for the writing, there are jewels, both fantastic and funny, scattered in the dung heap of words, but the reward of finding them was not worth the trek through verbose dreck. I’m glad to have finished this “should read” book, but the experience was more medicinal than magical.