War Dances, by Sherman Alexie

I think I would be a better person if I spent a little time in Sherman Alexie's presence every day. He's smart and funny and reasonable and passionate. And he's good at taking a stand. I have really enjoyed everything I've read of his, including many interviews. Here is a very funny clip of him talking to Steven Colbert about why he won't allow any of his work to be sold electronically.

Some of the things I love about this book:

It is a perfectly balanced collection of prose and poetry. Everyone likes poetry, right, but how many of us can manage a whole book of it? Much better to have it mixed in with good old-fashioned prose.

It is always hard to tell whether these stories are autobiographical, fictional, or a combination of the two. For some reason this makes them all seem very real and very true. And it's not at all distracting, as I would have expected. Instead of wondering which parts are the author, and which parts are imagined, I find myself thinking that these are the thoughts and actions of a real person in a real situation.

The people in this book are all flawed, and are all exactly the kind of people I would like to hang out with. Alexie's characters all share an authenticity that is rare and delicate. I've always wondered how one would invent a person and make her true to herself; half the time I don't know how I'm going to feel about something, so how on earth would I know how my fictional character would feel? Apparently Sherman Alexie does not have this problem.

This is a quick read. Yet it is not at all fluffy. This, I think, is a rare gift, to be able to write stories that are true and rich and yet simple. It feels as though he's sitting a the table with you, telling you the story, choosing his words carefully, but not deliberating overlong, not complicating things.

I read The Absolutely True Story of a Part-Time Indian about a year ago, then immediately watched Smoke Signals, a movie for which he wrote the screenplay. I am now tempted to gather all things Alexie and power through them, but that would be like eating all your jellybeans on Easter morning. An indulgence which ultimately makes you wish you had some restraint.

Nocturnes, by Kazuo Ishiguro

Ordinarily, when I am engrossed in good fiction, the author is far from my mind. While reading Ishiguro, however, I often picture the author. I can't help thinking that he must be an interesting dinner companion; he is so well-spoken, and in photographs and interviews appears neat and relaxed, but there's a seriously whacked sensibility under that proper exterior. Then I read an interview with him in which he described his "buttoned-up unreliable narrators." Hmmm, perhaps I am confusing him with his characters. Still, I love that his writing is so elegant and simple and accessible, and yet off-beat.

Where I heard about this book: Everywhere.

What this book is about: Great. 4 stars.

What this book is about: 5 stories about evening and music. They are longish, and were conceived as a group - there is more holding them together than the shared theme of music. As per Ishiguro, they evoke a sense of melancholy. The whole is more, to me, like a jazz album than a classical one. There is the uptempo section and the slower, sadder riff. The overall impression is that humans are prone to folly, but can create a little magic while falling on their faces.

Olive Kitteridge, by Elizabeth Strout

It's annoying to dislike a book because of the way it has been marketed, but there you go. I liked several of these stories, but I really hated the conceit of stringing them together by including the title character in each. Olive Kitteredge is tangential, to say the least, in quite a few of the stories, set in a coastal town in Maine. I'm not sure why the author chose to use her as the thread - the location itself seems to me to be a much more reasonable point of connection.

So I disliked the structure, and could have done without a few of the stories. What I really liked about this book, though, was the depiction of life in a small northern town. A native of the upper reaches of New England, I am drawn to literature that describes the gritty, spectacular landscape, as well as the quirky mentality of its residents. Russell Banks does a really terrific job depicting New England in all its beauty and ugliness, as does Carolyn Chute. In Olive Kitteredge, Elizabeth Strout gives us a realistic picture of year-round life in small-town Maine.



Where I heard about this book: It won the Pulitzer last year.

What I thought of this book: Good. 3 stars.


What this book is about: A collection of short stories in which the prickly, usually unpleasant Olive Kitteredge either features or makes an appearance.

I like the subjects of love and lust as seen from the point of view of the beyond-middle-age set. There are several happy but not really all that great marriages at the heart of these stories, a topic which I always find fascinating.