Tender at the Bone, by Ruth Reichl

I don't usually read non-fiction. I like a good story, and if I accidentally learn something along the way, so be it. I do like memoirs, though, particularly if they involve seriously dysfunctional families. One advantage, as far as I'm concerned, is that the story happened (more or less) the way it happened, and if I don't like the way it turned out I can't blame the author.

Now, I am not a foodie. I own only a handful of cookbooks, I don't watch the cooking channel, I buy Costco olive oil, and when I was married I was very happy to let my husband do all of the cooking. Which indicates to me that Ruth Reichl is a terrific writer, because I loved this book. That her entire childhood is told through the filter of food is clearly not a clever device; she actually remembers her whole life according to what was being served and by whom! There is certainly some dysfunction (does every good memoirist have a bi-polar mother?), but mostly there is just good storytelling. In fact, I found myself thinking that my own life would seem much more interesting if I could but find a unifying theme running through it.

After reading this book, I spent a long time trying to remember specific meals from my childhood. There are a few, but when it comes to culinary training, I mostly remember my sister and mother experimenting in the kitchen together while I snuck off to my pine-needle fort in the woods.

Little Bee, by Chris Cleave

"When I was a teenager in the 1980s, we thought of asylum seekers as heroes. The hundreds who died while trying to cross the Berlin Wall, for example. Or the pilots, performers and scientists who defected from the Soviet Union. Or the heroes of previous generations – Sigmund Freud, who fled to London to escape the Nazis, or Anne Frank, who could not flee far enough. Albert Einstein, Karl Marx, Joseph Conrad – all of them refugees – I could go on and on. When horror and darkness descend, asylum seekers are the ones who get away. They are typically above average in terms of intellectual gifts, far-sightedness, motivation and resilience. These are the people you want to have on your side. It will be a monument to our hubris if we allow ourselves to start thinking of them as a burden."

This is just one of the inspiring paragraphs I found on Chris Cleave's website. I could spend all day there - what an interesting and engaging guy.

I really loved this book. One of the greatest things about it is the blurb in the front of the dust jacket. I have returned it to the library, and so can't quote it verbatim, but it basically says that the book is great, that the story hinges on the choices made by two women, and that to say more would ruin the story. All true! I might well have passed it by had I known more about the story. In fact, this is the last book I will read for a while that includes the abuse of teenaged girls by men. My heart can't take it - I have girls verging on their teens, and it is too painful to think of them in similar situations.

Don't you hate it when reviewers say "this is an important book"? I feel disinclined to read any book thus heralded. But I think that this novel may in fact be important: the subject is one which we should, in the western world, understand. But it is pure story; there is no lecture, no sense of being enlightened Concerning an Important Fact of Life. It is well-written and entertaining, the two narrators are charming. One even has a terrible boyfriend who, despite her intelligence and success, she continues to adore. Just the kind of flaw that makes a character seem real.

Then the ending. Well. Really? I just couldn't see it, though I can understand why the author wanted it to end that way. Chris Cleave got a lot of things right in this book, primarily Little Bee's voice. I get the feeling there will be a lot more books, and I look forward to seeing him get better and better.

I kind of want to read Incendiary, Chris Cleave's first novel. But if violence against girls is hard to take, how much more painful to read about a mother losing her child? I will wait for a time when I feel a little more thick-skinned. Until then I will peruse his website in a manner verging on stalkerish.

The Chosen One, by Carol Lynch Williams

Wives are kind of like potato chips; it's really hard to stop at just one. So in honor of the maritally enthusiastic, September is polygamy month! I've got a few titles lined up, and have started the series with this fantastic YA novel. I read this in two sittings, but would have finished it in one, if my pesky children hadn't needed feeding and attention. Perhaps I should find a couple of wives to take care of them so that I can spend more time reading...


Where I heard about this book: I found it in my hunt for polygamy lit, mostly performed on the Multnomah County Library website.

What I thought of this book: Fantastic. All the stars in the firmament for this wonderful novel.


13 year old Kyra has one father, three mothers and 19 siblings (so far). She also has an unpromising future on the compound of The Chosen Ones, a breakaway Mormon sect. Kyra's greatest assets are her love for her family and her independent spirit; unfortunately, independence is not a trait the Prophet is fond of, particularly in young girls. He makes it very clear to Kyra and her family that if she resists early marriage to an elderly relative, her entire family will suffer. Smart, intrepid and self-reliant, Kyra is unwilling to fall into line, but also not crazy about the idea of tearing her family apart.

This novel is YA at its best. I had to forcibly stop myself from skipping to the end to see how it turned out. Williams does a great job of describing the no-win situations of her characters. Kyra is an engaging protagonist, who will not be dominated by the leaders of her community, nor by the mute fear of her family.

The Bones, by Seth Greenland

First, let me say that I really hope that this book is made into a movie. It will be funny and edgy in that great Hollywood kind of way; Seth Greenland is a talented writer, good at the one liner and the film/lit reference, which always makes the reader, or viewer, feel smart and with it. I must admit that I am a tiny bit tired of the entertainment industry as entertainment: don't they already control the world and most of its content? That, however, is more a matter of my literary choices, and less a matter of the quality of this book.

That being said, I loved the first 3/4 of this book, and was frustrated by (surprise!) the ending. I had it pegged for the perfect vacation read, but I think it would hold up best if you read the very end just as your plane was landing, while you were filled with the sentimentality of exhaustion and longing that comes with the end of a trip.

Okay, plot. This book is about two friends, more or less. One is an extremely, if inadvertently, successful TV writer. The other is a very talented and moderately successful stand up comic. As the writer's star rises, the comedian's is setting. Jealousy ensues on both sides, as no one has quite achieved the life he envisioned. Fate pulls them back into the same orbit, and a series of poor decisions drives the story to its wacky conclusion. It's written in a sardonic, visual style. I pictured the whole story taking place onscreen.


What I liked about this book: The characters are sympathetic, the writing is very engaging.

What I didn't like about this book: Tenses. For heaven's sake, don't mess with the tenses. I was unable, ultimately, to determine whether the author was using the present tense as a literary device, then deliberately switching to the past, or whether the publishers simply forgot to hire a copy editor. Either way, it was damned annoying.

The ending. Both the very end, and the penultimate journey. I think that if you are going to go that far over the top, and introduce a lot of bad guys and weapons and getaway cars, it's just not cool to get all rainbow-hued and sappy at the end.

Deaf Sentence, by David Lodge

This novel is far milder than David Lodge's usual fare, which generally features bitingly funny satire and hilariously over the top plot twists. This kinder, gentler Lodge is still very funny, and nails his characters in a way few can imitate.

Where I heard about this book: Looking for something funny to read, I checked out the Lodge shelf.

What I thought about this book: It was chugging along at 4 stars, but an anemic ending brings it down to 3. And a half.

What this book is about: Desmond Bates is a retired professor of linguistics who is well on his way to becoming deaf. His inability to hear much of what is going on around him leads to some very funny situations, such as his inadvertently making a date with a comely young American student. It is also the basis many touching ruminations on community and isolation. David Lodge is himself a victim of hearing loss, which is probably the basis for his gentle treatment of the subject. Unfortunately, he is shade too gentle with the somewhat pompous Bates, and lets him slide easily out of the difficulties he's created for himself. The gorgeous setup of Desmond's accidental relationship with the increasingly odd American, his tough-as-nails wife and his senile and uncooperative father begs for a major fall. He is allowed, however, to slip through the trap unscathed. The novel ends up being amusing and sweet, but misses the wickedly funny mark Lodge usually hits.

Sweet Mary, by Liz Balmaseda

I don't really have much to say about this book. It was entertaining, it started out much more strongly than it ended, the heroine was engaging. I don't really expect thrillers to adhere to the laws of reality, but this one stretched, to the point of discomfort, my ability to believe. The things I did like about it: Miami is just a really cool place to set a book. The protagonist was likable, as were her family and friends. The good guys were vindicated, the bad guys got theirs. (Not much of a spoiler - you expect this from the outset.) If there were a sequel I would probably give it a chance.

Where I heard about this book: Browsing at the library again - I am truly a geek. I chose it because it had a Carl Hiasson quote on the cover.

What I thought of this book: Okay. 2 stars.

What this book is about: Mary, a successful single mother, is arrested in her house, in broad daylight, in front of her child, accused of being a drug lord. It is a case of mistaken identity, which Mary is determined to clear up. A sort of typical woman-as-amateur-sleuth story ensues, replete with rekindled flame and spunky best friend. I only wish that the end had lived up to the promise of the beginning - I engaged in a lot of eye-rolling before I reached the end.

The Elegance of the Hedgehog, by Muriel Barbery

The silver lining to my hour and a half wait at the doctor's office (I never did manage to see him, but that's a managed care horror story for another time), is that I persevered through the slow beginning of this book. Once in, I enjoyed the careful combination of erudition and entertainment. The ending, unfortunately, was not terrific. I admit to being a pretty harsh judge of endings, but honestly, after the work that went into all of the palatable-for-the-public philosophical musings in this book, I think we could expect a little more subtlety. Here's a nice review from the Guardian; their reviewer is a little more enthusiastic and doubtless more thoughtful than I.

Where I heard about this book: Can't really remember - it was reviewed everywhere.

What I thought of this book: Pretty good - 3 1/2 stars.

What this book is about: Narrated alternately by its two main characters, this book consists of the musings of a middle-aged concierge and one of the residents of her building, a world-weary 12 year old. Both are unusually brilliant outsiders, with penchants for philosophy and Japanese culture. They are ultimately saved from their parallel states of solitude by the mysterious stranger who comes to live in their midst. And, of course, they're all French, so they easily sound much smarter and more interesting than the rest of us.