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.

The Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Luis Zafon

This book was a little too melodramatic for me. I was initially charmed by the setting, and was prepared to wander down the alleys and sit in the cafes of Barcelona along with the protagonist. But then there was the part about him falling in love with the truly awful-sounding novel. And maybe adolescent boys in Spain, during Franco's rule, were very different from adolescent boys in the United States, in the 21st century, but this kid seemed way too self-possessed and self-reflective to be true. I was completely on board for the more fantastical magical stuff, but honestly there was very little else that seemed remotely plausible. A quarter of the way into it, I was wondering how soon I'd be done. So I stopped.

Bonk, By Mary Roach

This book is subtitled "The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex". Which sums up Mary Roach's combination of humor and academic rigor. This book will tell you every single thing you never wanted to know about sex, in shuddering detail. I found myself physically cringing an awful lot while reading this book, but I had a hard time putting it down. It's not surprising that researchers want to understand the mechanics of sex more thoroughly, but some of their experiments verge on the masochistic.

Mary Roach is a very funny woman, which is one reason that I, an avowed avoider of nonfiction, read all of her books. She also has a talent for exploring subjects that are a little uncomfortable (see Stiff). I really admire her willingness to climb out from behind her stack of books to experience the ickier side of science. In the case of this book, she, and at times her apparently very understanding husband, participated in several of the studies she describes. That is dedication I admire.

The author herself notes that sex is not a subject that can be understood without taking into account the emotional side of the equation. Most of the studies she uncovers are, however, all about mechanics. It makes sense, of course, that scientists are interested in pure data. And I can imagine that funding proposals for sex research have to be carefully written. It is true that this kind of scientific pursuit has led to breakthroughs in both medicine and technology, but I still maintain that there is a little bit of magic at work in really good sex, and all the studies in the world aren't going to make either a pill or a device that can deliver it.

Solar, by Ian McEwan

What a trifecta; Dan Chaon, Willy Vlautin and Ian McEwan! Every month should be filled with such great writers.

I have always maintained that success and happiness depend a lot on the personality traits one is born with. Luck of the genetic variety. The protagonist of Solar, Michael Beard, is blessed with both brilliance and confidence, and is unhampered by empathy. The combination is a fortunate one for him, if not for his professional associates and many ex-wives. A man of unappealing personal habits, and few physical charms, he nontheless seduces women at a rate that would make Wilt Chamberlain jealous. Twenty years after receiving the award, Beard is resting on his Nobel Laurels, collecting steep fees for describing the Beard-Einstein Conflation, the theory he piggybacked onto the more famous E=MC2. Unable, in his middle years, to come up with anything resembling his youthful brilliance, Beard falls back on the time-trusted method of stealing ideas. Which works pretty well for him.

I love this book, the way it makes a mockery of the idea that good deeds are rewarded, and that villains come to a bad end. McEwan builds the story with his usual skill, as his hero flees one mess only to land in another. Eventually his life is a tangle that will take a miracle to escape. I am not, of course, a spoiler, so you'll have to read it to see how it turns out.

Ian McEwan's books are different enough from one another to make me want to read them all. He certainly has a style, but it is more in the way he creates tension and drives a story to its climax than anything else. My favorites of his are On Chesil Beach, which is an incredible book, and Saturday, powerful in its own right.

Great fact about Ian McEwan: He wrote the libretto for the Opera For You. Although it is available in book form, why would one want to read an opera? I would, however, love to see it. Opera seems like the perfect venue for his talent.

Northline, by Willy Vlautin

 

Once again Willy Vlautin has ripped out my heart and left me bleeding, only to have me beg for more. Kind of like Eminem and Rihanna, without the egomaniacal violent misogynist part. One thing I love about Mr. Vlautin; no matter how devastated you feel at the end of his books, he leaves you with a sliver of grimy hope.

Allison Johnson is a great protagonist. She's more messed up than you, but maybe you've felt exactly the way she does, on your worst days. And maybe you've persevered as she does on your best days, though I think she's got me beat in that category. The story follows her through a harrowing year as she tries to escape her nightmare boyfriend, and manage her monumental anxiety. This girl has made a lot of bad choices, but it's hard to fault her, she is so clearly aching to do better. Her saving grace, aside from being likable, is her imaginary relationship with Paul Newman, who talks her through some of her lowest moments. Once again Willy Vlautin shows us what it's like to be a resident of the fringe of society, where expectations are low and behavior is generally bad.

The writing is the same plain gritty beautiful prose I fell in love with in Lean On Pete. Everyone in this book is damaged, and everyone is fully three-dimensional. Even the terrible boyfriend seems to have a few redeeming qualities, which I think is true of most people. If abusers were 100% awful, most would never get their hands on the fragile souls they feed on.

This book has a soundtrack! It's written and performed by WillyVlautin himself, along with Paul Brainard. A cd accompanies every book! How cool is that? Embedding a song in this post is beyond my technological powers, though I have tried valiantly. Read the book, listen to the music; they're both great.

Await Your Reply, by Dan Chaon

Well, I have a new literary crush. That being said, I did this book a great injustice by reading it in little bits and pieces, over the course of almost two weeks. It deserves some undivided attention. It is comprised of three stories, which are ultimately intertwined, beautifully mirroring one another. As though they reflect one another on a slightly wavering surface, so that just as you glimpse the similarities, they are gone.

Each narrative is told from the point of view of a runaway. Ryan is fleeing his parents after learning that he is not who he thought he was. Lucy escapes her small town in the wake of her parents' death, in the front seat of her history teacher's Maserati. Miles has been uprooting his life for decades, in search of his elusive identical twin. The action switches between the present and the past; many pasts, as it turns out. The structure is complex, but it remains clear what is happening to whom, and how it fits into the overall timeline. Which is pretty impressive.

Is it possible to walk away from your life, and make it over entirely? This novel continually made me ask myself, "Are people really like this? Is this going on all over America?" It is a testament to the fine writing that I kept answering myself in the affirmative. What a feat! In less skillful hands it would have seem contrived and ridiculous. As it was, I was kept guessing until the end, unsure of how the trio of tales would resolve themselves, anxious to get learn the truth, but wanting to make the book last.

The author describes his novel as Hitchcockian. Hitchcocklike? Rest assured, he put it more gracefully. It has many characteristics of a thriller, and I had to read one section through slitted eyes, because it was so suspenseful and clinically creepy. I am not a fan of the mystery/crime genre (much to my own disappointment); this book rides the line between genre fiction and just generally really well-written fiction, which to me is a perfect combination. In short, I loved it, and can't wait to read his other work.

Here's a great interview with the author. He's pretty nerdy/dreamy, which is the best kind of dreamy, in my book.

Love, Aubrey, by Suzanne LaFleur

This is my just-turned-ten-year-old daughter's favorite book. About a month ago, she was reading it in her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, saying, "This is the best book EVER! But it's so sad." Two weeks later, there I was in bed, reading this book and crying. I won't say it's the best book ever, but it's pretty good.

Eleven-year-old Aubrey has lost her father and sister in a car crash, and now her mother has disappeared, leaving her to fend for herself. Fortunately, her grandmother takes her in, and the book takes place over the course of the next year. As you can imagine, Aubrey's got a little processing to do. Heavy stuff for a kids' book, but I think it's just the right mix of serious and fun; it turns out that life doesn't end when your family is gone, though it seems like it should.

The author, Suzanne LaFleur, is exactly the kind of adult I wanted to be when I was a child. She's in her mid-twenties, and so hasn't been a bona fide grownup for all that long - I hope she can sustain her absolute coolness. You can read about her on her website. If you loved Harriet the Spy and heroines of her ilk, you will love Suzanne LaFleur.

http://www.suzannelafleur.com/Suzanne.html

I don't read that much kids' lit these days, but when my children particularly love something I will give it a try. I remember reading my favorites over and over again, in a way I just wouldn't as an adult. This is a great pick for the tweeners, and not a bad grownup read if you're ready to shed a few tears.