|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
my rating |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
16
| 
| 1503959570
| 9781503959576
| B07C227DVB
| 3.95
| 22,029
| Jan 01, 2019
| Jan 01, 2019
|
it was amazing
|
This novel about a woman with the perfect life who realizes all is not well could very easily have been cliché. But instead of an affair or a near-dea
This novel about a woman with the perfect life who realizes all is not well could very easily have been cliché. But instead of an affair or a near-death experience, suburban housewife Suzanne Blakemore's journey to self-awareness begins when she decides to foster a teenage girl. Iris, a feral child who has been fending for herself in the forest, is the antithesis of everything the Blakemores take for granted; her arrival does not precipitate so much as expose the problems bubbling beneath the surface between Suzanne, her husband, and her two children. Sonja Yoerg's passages about the natural world, as experienced through Iris' senses, are exquisite and poetic. The dynamics of family are keenly-observed, compassionate, and occasionally raw. Beautiful and insightful. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
Nov 12, 2018
|
Nov 12, 2018
|
Nov 13, 2018
|
Kindle Edition
| |||||||||||||
15
| 
| 1978644027
| 9781978644021
| 1978644027
| 4.30
| 6,236
| Nov 06, 2018
| Nov 06, 2018
|
it was amazing
|
We need more historical novels about unsung heroines. I couldn't believe that it wasn't until 1979 that the "Hello Girls" of the US Army Signal Corps
We need more historical novels about unsung heroines. I couldn't believe that it wasn't until 1979 that the "Hello Girls" of the US Army Signal Corps received the benefits and recognition for the work they did alongside their male counterparts during WWI. This is a wonderful story of female courage and camaraderie. For a longer review: Book Review of GIRLS ON THE LINE
...more
|
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
not set
|
Nov 07, 2018
|
Audio CD
| |||||||||||||
14
| 
| 9889979942
| 9789889979942
| 9889979942
| 4.26
| 176
| Aug 08, 2008
| Aug 08, 2008
|
it was amazing
|
Normally I review novels. Stories. And I’ve decided CHINA: Portrait of a People by travel photographer Tom Carter qualifies because every one of his p
Normally I review novels. Stories. And I’ve decided CHINA: Portrait of a People by travel photographer Tom Carter qualifies because every one of his photographs holds an amazing story. I am reviewing this book because in a country of 1.3 billion, it`s clear that Carter managed to make a personal connection with each person he photographed, bringing a sense of intimacy to this collection of 800 photographs. Plus, Carter’s epic, two-year backpacking journey through China is as much of a story as any of his photographs. Over four thousand years of recorded history, entire cultures have been absorbed into China. I’ve always known, intellectually, that China is a country of many ethnic minorities. I know that certain dialects out on the western edges of the country owe more to Turkish than Mandarin. But it’s Carter’s book that has put faces, architectures, landscapes -- and emotions -- to those minorities, and for me that’s the most wonderful thing about this book. Away from the urban centres where centuries-old homes are being bulldozed to build high-rise office towers, China is still a nation rich in diversity: 56 distinct cultures and 33 provinces, most of them still rural. I feel grateful they have not vanished. I worry that they are vanishing. Most travel books look as though they were commissioned by a tourism board: beautiful scenery, unique architecture, regional costumes and food. Carter never veers away from the quotidian that gives context to the people he portrays. There are images of unexpected and beautiful scenery and plenty of colourful costumes, but also harsh landscapes of extreme climates, poverty, ugly industrial towns, the good and bad of Western influences. We come face to face with ordinary people striving with great energy to improve their lives, trying to find some niche where they can earn a livelihood. There are families, young hipsters and elderly farmers, fat babies and sooty-faced miners. The book itself is thoughtfully organized by province. Each section opens with a simple map to position the province and the locations photographed for the reader. There is a brief introduction to each province that highlights its historical significance and unique qualities. Sometimes there is poetry or quotes from someone Carter met, or an anecdote. Overall, it feels like a very personal, multi-faceted travel diary crossed with a social studies book (and I loved Social Studies at school, by the way, so this is a compliment). What’s truly amazing is that Tom Carter did not set out to create this book. In 2004, he went backpacking across China for a year, with the intent of learning about the lesser-known regions that tour buses ignore. Photography was just a way to document his trip. On a very limited budget, he traveled the way locals would travel – by bus or train. After that first year, he got a book deal to publish his photos. That was the impetus for his second year of travel: to make sure he had captured enough images for a definitive collection. As a result, CHINA: Portrait of a People, now in its second printing, has been called the most comprehensive book of photography on modern China ever published by a single author. Tom shares some of his photography on Flickr. This article from The Atlantic also features some wonderful shots from the book. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Apr 15, 2013
|
May 30, 2013
|
Paperback
| |||||||||||||
13
| 
| 0061095435
| 9780061095436
| 0061095435
| 3.55
| 7,160
| 1997
| Aug 19, 1997
|
it was amazing
|
In Beijing’s Bei Hai Park, a frozen lake yields the body of a young man who turns out to be the American ambassador’s son. The Ministry of Public Secu
In Beijing’s Bei Hai Park, a frozen lake yields the body of a young man who turns out to be the American ambassador’s son. The Ministry of Public Security (MPS) sends Inspector Liu Hulan to deal with the crime and almost immediately (and inevitably) her efforts are complicated by political considerations. Off the coast of California on a ship crammed full of illegal immigrants, U.S. Attorney David Stark finds the corpse of the son of the sixth richest man in China. When clues surface to link the young men’s deaths, the State Department sends David to China to be part of a joint investigation – paired with Liu Hulan, his former lover. As the investigation moves from Beijing to Los Angeles and back, the murders of suspects and informants on both sides of the Pacific make it clear that whoever is behind the original deaths has a long reach. Flower Net by Lisa See takes full advantage of the confusing world of modern China to create a thriller where a society in flux features as prominently as murders, triads, and the uneasy rekindling of a romance. Her writing made me feel as though I was getting an insider's tour of Beijing, peeking into doorways of old-style hutong residential compounds and the lives of ordinary citizens or gawking at a glitzy nightclub for the young Chinese elite. More than that, See delivers insights into contemporary Chinese society: the huge gap between the classes in what is supposed to be a classless society, the undercurrent of resentment and guilt that persists from the Cultural Revolution, the bribery and “back-door ways” employed by those willing to take the risk, and the elaborate courtesies which mask true intentions. For Western readers, Hulan is a wonderful guide to 1990’s China. She is a Red Princess, the daughter of an elite Communist Party official, wealthy enough to live in luxury, if she chose. But she has also spent time in a poor farming village, working and living like a peasant. Furthermore, she has been educated in the United States, and is able to acknowledge China’s problems from a Western point of view; but her Chinese sensibilities remain intact, allowing her to navigate through the labyrinth of bureaucracy that is Beijing’s MPS. David is not exactly the bumbling foreigner, but his direct manners prevent him from hearing the subtext behind polite conversations. When Hulan “decodes” for him, we realize that even she can’t be sure of the messages being conveyed; layers of meaning like carved screens hide the truth. The bonus about this thriller is that you learn so much about 1990’s China. Since then the country has charged ahead with urbanization and expanded its economic zones even more; the disparities between remote rural communities and the big cities are more pronounced than ever. Nonetheless, knowing about neighbourhood committees, residency permits, the destruction of hutong compounds, and other daily realities provide helpful context for understanding China’s current social issues. If you’re like me, you probably thought Snow Flower and the Secret Fan was Lisa See’s first book. Nope, the three Red Princess thrillers: Flower Net, The Interior, and Dragon Bones were all written before Snow Flower. They’re a complete change of genre -- even voice -- and it’s hard to believe they’re by the same author. Flower Net was a nominee for the Edgar Award by the Mystery Writers of America for best first fiction. It’s a well-plotted story without a single boring character, fast-paced and thoroughly enjoyable -- one of those detective novels you finish reading with a sigh of satisfaction. What I Learned About Writing from Reading This Book At this point in my development as a writer, I evoke time and place through descriptive language or by pulling in details to help the reader visualize. Now I understand how dialogue can also add atmosphere to time and place. There is a scene in Flower Net which made this tactic jump out at me: Hulan is at a travel agency buying a pair of plane tickets to the Sichuanese city of Chengdu. She and David are trying to escape their watchers. The travel agent tries to interest her in a scenic tour of Chengdu, and Hulan declines, saying she just needs to get there on the next flight because her mother is very ill. The woman regarded Hulan. “You can’t be Sichuanese. Your Beijinger accent is too good.” This one line of dialogue synthesizes the travel agent’s absolute belief that she is entitled to question, doubt, and report on her fellow citizen. Throughout Flower Net, there is a sense of menace that insinuates every scene. Anyone, from old ladies who run the Neighborhood Committees to officials in the highest tiers of government, could be reporting on your movements. While See’s descriptions immediately immerse you in the world of the novel, it is her use of such small comments that create atmosphere -- in this case the uncomfortable feeling of a society acclimatized to surveillance and intimidation. I know that an author can achieve a lot using dialogue. It can be the hardest-working element of a story. Dialogue is something I find difficult to write. But for a start, I will try and evaluate whether there is opportunity for dialogue to do double-duty: not only to move the story forward or reveal something about the character, but also to add emotional texture to the time and place of the story. Lisa See was gracious enough to let me interview her (read here) ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Oct 18, 2012
|
Jan 19, 2013
|
Paperback
| |||||||||||||
12
| 
| 0373296142
| 9780373296149
| 0373296142
| 3.48
| 1,729
| Oct 01, 2010
| Sep 28, 2010
|
liked it
|
Within the first six pages of Butterfly Swords, there has been a swordfight between bodyguards and bandits, a princess fleeing an unwanted marriage, a
Within the first six pages of Butterfly Swords, there has been a swordfight between bodyguards and bandits, a princess fleeing an unwanted marriage, a conspiracy that needs unraveling, a handsome barbarian mercenary, and denied sexual attraction. And the story just charges on from there. Author Jeannie Lin never lets up on the tension, making Butterfly Swords as much of an adventure as it is a romance. Lin’s version of Tang Dynasty China is meant to evoke the era rather than provide a historically accurate depiction of this ancient time. After all, if a Regency romance can feature fictional dukes and duchesses, why not a romance set in China featuring characters loosely based on historical figures? The Tang Dynasty (618 – 907 AD) was a unique period in Chinese history. Upper-class women enjoyed an era of relatively liberal attitudes. Funeral ceramics from the Tang Dynasty include figures of women on horseback, even playing polo. China was open to the rest of the world too. The Silk Road and maritime trade brought back not just foreign products but music, science, art, and religion from the Middle East, Central Asia, Japan, and Korea. The Chinese empire welcomed these influences; foreigners from as far away as Persia, India, and Egypt lived in Chinese cities for diplomatic and commercial reasons. While Chinese regard the Tang Dynasty as one of the golden eras of history, inevitably there were periods of conflict, and Butterfly Swords is set during one of these times: the middle of the 8th century. Princess Ai Li’s father is a reluctant emperor, a military commander who took on the responsibility of running an empire. Ai Li is not a typical damsel in distress; raised with brothers in a border town, she has been trained all her life in sword fighting. When she finds out that her betrothed, a military governor named Li Tai, was responsible for the death of one of her brothers, she escapes from the escorts who are bringing her to Li Tai for their wedding. But as the youngest daughter of a wealthy family, she also understands very little about the real world and nothing at all about men. When Ryam, a blond, hazel-eyed barbarian comes to her rescue, she fights off her attraction to him as determinedly as she fights off the soldiers who are sent to recapture her. It becomes clear to Ai Li that she lacks the wily skills needed to sneak through cities and occupied territories, and with mixed reluctance and relief, she agrees to Ryam helping her make the journey home to her family. As for Ryam, he is running away from a shameful past. He had been making his way back to the fortress town at the desert frontier where his garrison is stationed when he rescued Ai Li. He acknowledges to himself the strong attraction he feels for her, but what truly moves him is her trusting innocence. Any other man would take advantage of the situation, but Ryam refuses to give in to dishonourable behaviour. This book is well-written, a lot of fun, and a real page-turner. Of course you know that Ai Li and Ryam will fall in love and into bed at some point, but first the young lovers must overcome physical and emotional trials before they finally give in to their feelings. In the meantime, you’re content to wait, because the book is loaded with so many interesting details about ancient China: the luxurious life of the aristocracy, political intrigue, and the landscapes of the vast Tang Empire. I grew up in North America, so I am only vaguely familiar with the popular Chinese martial arts genre known as ‘wuxia’. However, I can remember my father berating my brothers for wasting their pocket money on cheap (and lowbrow) wuxia novels, purchased from sidewalk bookstalls. For most Westerners, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon would be the best-known movie of this genre. But I do recognize many of the story elements, such as personal honour, family honour, adventures that impact the future of the empire, and characters who dwell at the margins of society. And honour. Have I mentioned honour? It was fun and unexpected to find a historical romance transplanted into a wuxia story. It took me galloping away into a different world, and I plan to read the next book in Lin’s Tang Dynasty Series, The Dragon and the Pearl, because two of the most intriguing minor characters in Butterfly Swords get their own story. I'll also be keeping an eye out for her next book in the Tang Dynasty series, The Sword Dancer , which comes out in June 2013. What I Learned About Writing from Reading This Book At the Surrey International Writer’s Conference, I attended a workshop that featured a panel of seriously heavyweight historical romance writers. At one point in the discussion, they remarked that some Harlequin authors do not get enough credit for being good writers. “Within the confines of the genre,” one of them said, “there is some very fine work.” That was definitely food for thought. Consider how inventive a story you would need to craft if there are pre-determined expectations for the plot. Consider that no matter what adventures befall the lovers, the romance must be the central story. This is mandatory – the relationship is the driving force of the story. Plus, all the action, conflicts, character development and relationships must unfold and be resolved within 75,000 words. Not so easy to pull off. Butterfly Swords, which won the 2009 Golden Heart Award, holds plenty of lessons about the craft of writing, but I am going to focus on one aspect that jumped out at me: tension. Constant tension. Ryam and Ai Li encounter plenty of dangers. They are on the run, always hiding, sometimes starving, and never sure who they can trust. But the biggest impediment Lin puts in the way of the lovers is culture and class: Ryam is a foreign barbarian with no family name or wealth, and no honour except his own personal code of conduct. Thus, while you know these two beautiful young people will fall in love and live happily ever after, you can’t imagine how they will manage to do so. This provides the story with a conflict that looms in the background, growing ever larger as Ai Li gets closer to home and the judgment of her family. Meanwhile, in the foreground of the plot are the dangers they encounter during the journey to bring Ai Li home. But holding true to Harlequin’s ‘relationship is the driving force’ requirement, Lin turns danger into an effective device for bringing Ai Li and Ryam’s emotions closer to the surface. And I’m not even going to talk about swordplay as foreplay. During a lull in the action, the couple find sanctuary, but even here the suspense continues: the woman who is their hostess is a legendary beauty who clearly has some history with Ryam. You don’t need to be writing genre fiction to appreciate how tension can dictate the pace of a book. This is something I will have to use with more thought when drafting out my next novel. Too much external conflict and you end up with the Perils of Pauline. Not enough internal conflict and your protagonist fails to make that all-important inner journey. Apply as needed. The trick is in judging which kind of conflict to apply and when, to control the tension and pace of the story. Whether it’s battles, thwarted purpose, or suppressed desire, Lin makes sure that when the external action slows down, internal conflicts step in to drive the story forward. She is entirely in control of the ride. Jeannie was gracious enough to let me interview her (read here) ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Dec 03, 2012
|
Nov 29, 2012
|
Mass Market Paperback
| |||||||||||||
10
| 
| B0056ITAYS
| 3.33
| 70
| Jun 16, 2011
| unknown
|
liked it
|
As Queen Elizabeth II lies on her deathbed, a secret society dispatches an assassin to the United States to kill a young man named Jack Hollander. For
As Queen Elizabeth II lies on her deathbed, a secret society dispatches an assassin to the United States to kill a young man named Jack Hollander. For generations, this group has protected the interests of the crown, but how can this young American lad be a danger to the royal family? If lese-majeste was still a crime, Sally Nicoll would be in jail for writing "The Power Behind the Throne". Let's just say that all kinds of conspiracy theories find a home in this book, from Prince Philip's role in the secret society to Princess Diana's death. At first the premise of this novel seems unlikely, but the story is a page turner. I was totally on board within a few chapters and more than willing to suspend disbelief and enjoy the ride. This book cost me several hours of sleep. Be warned that you will resent any interruptions that make you put it down. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Oct 2012
|
Nov 15, 2012
|
ebook
| |||||||||||||||
8
| 
| 0380718367
| 9780380718368
| 0380718367
| 4.18
| 3,254
| Feb 13, 1992
| Sep 03, 1995
|
liked it
|
Let me start by saying that Native American prehistory is not one of my interests. The Ivory Carver Trilogy, by Sue Harrison, is set in pre-historic A
Let me start by saying that Native American prehistory is not one of my interests. The Ivory Carver Trilogy, by Sue Harrison, is set in pre-historic Alaska, in the Aleutian Islands. They are proof positive that a good story trumps a reader’s preference for setting. After reading Mother Earth, Father Sky, the first book of the series ( read my review ) there was no question that I had to move on to My Sister the Moon. The novel centers on sixteen-year old Kiin, who begins life without a name because she was born without a soul, and thus undeserving of a name. Her life is a litany of domestic abuse: her father Gray Bird beats her for any actual or imagined shortcoming, and when traders come to the village, Gray Bird always tries to sell them a night with his daughter. Her younger brother Qakan is equally rough on her. Her mother, frightened into submission, can’t protect her. Kiin’s life changes when she is made wife to Amgigh, son of Kayugh the village chief, who made a promise to Gray Bird when Kiin was a baby, that Kiin would be wife to one of his sons. It was a promise made to prevent Gray Bird from killing this unwanted daughter. Kayugh’s household is happy and full of kindness. Kiin’s young husband is good to her. She tells herself she is lucky to have a husband at all, but she can’t help but wish for a different husband. Kiin is in love with Amgigh’s brother Samiq, and he with her. But Samiq’s destiny also has been decided: he is to move to the village where his maternal grandfather lives and learn how to become a Whale Hunter. Yet even as a member of the chief’s family, Kiin is not safe. Hoping to become a trader, her brother Qakan steals furs and tools from the village to begin his career. Before he paddles away, he kidnaps Kiin – if he can take her far enough, he might be able to trade her to a man who doesn't know her reputation -- that Kiin has no soul. At the start of the book, Kiin is archetype of an abused woman, a victim of domestic violence. She accepts that she deserves only ill-treatment. But her inner voice grows stronger as her will to survive asserts itself during the voyage with her brother. When she realizes she is pregnant, it becomes even more imperative for her to live. Yes, there is a love triangle in the novel, but for me the most interesting journey is Kiin’s escape, physically and emotionally, away from domestic violence. Her mental state and low self-esteem give way to a cautious confidence in her carving skills and her worth as a woman. It’s not an easy story to read, but so compelling and immersive you have to keep reading. It’s a highly disturbing yet absorbing journey, aided by well-developed characters and competent prose that puts you right in the Arctic landscape. Harrison’s voice is straightforward, her sentences simple in structure. This may be for the sake of younger readers (see note below), but I found her prose strong and suited to the story’s setting. Even though Kiin suffers at the hands of cruel men, you never forget the impersonal cruelty of the Arctic, its’ dangerous emptiness, icy waters, and sudden shifts of weather. Harrison’s writing makes you shiver with the cold winds and salt spray, the harshness of the land, the precariousness of life. You feel chilled, your skin too thin. NOTE: I was surprised to find reviews which categorized the series as Young Adult books, especially My Sister the Moon. In the Author’s Notes, Harrison says she borrowed the incest storyline from an Aleut sea otter legend. What I Learned About Writing from Reading This Book When I read fiction, I always hope for an experience that pulls me in to the book. The more unfamiliar the setting, the more readers need to learn about the culture, everyday objects, and events. One of the perennial challenges of historical fiction is how to draw readers into an unfamiliar time and place without thrusting information into their faces. We need to understand what’s appropriate to the time and place, otherwise we won’t appreciate the story’s conflicts – but we don’t want to get yanked out of the story to learn. There’s nothing more annoying than when a story veers off into a lecture about objects, clothing, or traditions and beliefs. How can a writer convey how ancient tools worked or how a particular society was structured without turning paragraphs into social studies lessons? Harrison never hands us a heavy, awkward chunk of information. Instead, she adds in the details of her world here and there, woven into her characters’ actions and dialogue so that when we read descriptions, they are natural and in context. We see things through the eyes of her characters as they think and talk. She trusts her readers’ intelligence to know that when a hunter goes paddling out to sea in an ikyak, he is in a boat; we don’t need an immediate detailed description about how it’s made from skins stretched over a wooden frame. That can come later. Let’s look at clothing, a detail so essential to the mind’s eye of a reader. (The worst example I ever came across was a novel where each character walked into a scene accompanied by a long paragraph describing his/her appearance. Every time. Every costume change. This isn't it, but it’s pretty close: “Lulu was five-foot eight, with black hair in a blunt bob down to her shoulders. She had pale skin, a Grecian nose and wide-set blue eyes. Her pouty lips were outlined in crimson and filled in with Chanel Power Red gloss. She wore black leather pants , a white silk blouse, black leather gloves and a black leather motorcycle jacket which fit tightly to her slim yet curvaceous figure. She stood on high heeled black boots with silver spurs that made her long legs look even more enticing. A bracelet of heavy, solid platinum …” You get the idea. I didn't read the past the first chapter.) In the world of My Sister the Moon, there is no wool, cloth has yet to be invented, and it’s a climate for which clothing is not optional. People used furs and skins to fashion garments and boots. As readers, our frame of reference barely exists for this. Yet it’s essential for the novel to give us an appreciation of the ingenuity of this prehistoric culture; it gives us more respect for them, elevates them in our mind from primitive tribal folk to characters we can care about. I found Harrison’s descriptions of clothing endlessly fascinating as she explained these early people's resourceful use of materials. For example, a suk is a calf-length hoodless parka with a collar, reversible so that it could be worn with the feathers or fur on the inside for warmth. Our first detailed description of such a garment comes fairly early in the book, when Chagak gifts one to her daughter-in-law Kiin. It’s the most beautiful thing Kiin has ever owned – so it’s natural for her to admire and enumerate its features: “banded at the bottom with a ruff of white cormorant rump feathers hung with shell beads. The sleeves were cuffed with tufts of brown eider feathers and on the outside of the collar rim Chagak had sewn a strip of pale ribbon-seal fur, trimmed into a pattern of ripples, a blessing asked from the sea.” Kiin tries it on, and it fits perfectly, “the sleeves ended just above her fingertips and the bottom edge fell below her knees.” There is nothing contrived when a suk is introduced in this way. And now we know what one looks like. Or, there is the chigadix, a waterproof garment sewn from whale tongue skin or sea lion esophagus. But how are the seams made waterproof? Harrison explains this in a scene where Samiq oils his garment with seal fat to keep water out of the seams. While he cares for his clothing, he muses how men can repair a chigadix but not make it watertight the way his mother and Kiin can. His mind wanders to a memory of Kiin working on a chigadix: “a double seam, sewn one way, then turned and sewn back another.” Informative. Natural. Unobtrusive to the story. When I write about objects, clothing, or traditions and beliefs, I’ll try to blend the descriptions into dialog, thoughts, or the action rather than write about them as standalone descriptions. No social studies lessons. Sue was gracious enough to let me interview her (read here) ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Sep 10, 2012
|
Oct 05, 2012
|
Mass Market Paperback
| |||||||||||||
6
| 
| 0684871734
| 9780684871738
| 0684871734
| 3.98
| 4,019
| Jan 01, 2001
| Jun 18, 2002
|
really liked it
|
City of Dreams is the first in Beverly Swerling’s series of historic novels about early Manhattan. The story begins in 1661 when the Turner siblings,
City of Dreams is the first in Beverly Swerling’s series of historic novels about early Manhattan. The story begins in 1661 when the Turner siblings, Lucas and Sally, arrive in Nieuw Amsterdam with nothing to their name but their medical skills and no one to trust but each other. The novel’s timeline ends three generations later, at the close of the American Revolution. Almost as soon as the Turners set foot on dry land we are given the measure of their intelligence and resourcefulness; Lucas is called to treat the Dutch governor, Peter Stuyvesant, and uses the opportunity to bargain for a better shop location inside the town walls as well as a parcel of land where they can live and grow the plants Sally needs to make her ‘simples’, the herbal remedies that support her brother’s practice. By following Lucas and Sally as they struggle to establish themselves in what is still a Dutch colony, Swerling shows us the beginnings of New York City, which even then existed unabashedly and solely for commerce. The colonial town hustles with merchants and tradesmen, sailors, shopkeepers, bureaucrats, lawyers, prostitutes; there are Catholics, Protestants and Jews. And there are slaves, because the town lives for profit and the slave trade is the most profitable of all. In the woods outside the town, native Indian tribes co-exist on the island with the Europeans, some hostile, some merely wary. It is an unexpectedly diverse population and through the obstacles the young Turners face, we become acquainted with the local politics, prejudices, and beliefs of the era. The novel also presents a society where women are chattels and people can be sentenced to death for moral transgressions. When Sally becomes pregnant after being raped, Lucas sells her in marriage to Jacob Van der Vries, an incompetent doctor who wants Sally for her simpling skills. He tells himself it’s to save his sister from being punished but he knows it’s really because he wants the money to buy himself a wife. Marit Graumann is the most desirable woman he has ever met, married to a sadistic butcher who is willing to sell her to the highest bidder. As events turn out, Lucas does not have to pay for Marit after all, but Sally’s marriage creates a bitter division between the siblings. Sally never forgives Lucas for forcing her into marriage with a man she despises. Thus begins the feud between the Devreys (as the Van der Vries become) and the Turners. Lucas and Sally’s descendents carry on the family profession, with Devrey and Turner cousins in every generation who become surgeons, physicians, or apothecaries. The plot moves quickly to acquaint us with characters just as memorable as Lucas and Sally. On the Devrey side is Red Bess, a feisty widow who was raised by her mother Sally to stay away from the Turners, but who appeals to Christopher Turner to operate on her tumour. Her death on the operating table creates even more enmity between the cousins while Christopher’s attempts at blood transfusion make him a pariah. Patients stop coming and his once-prosperous household falls to near poverty. Christopher’s daughter Jennet, whose gender prevents her from becoming a surgeon, marries Solomon Da Silva, the wealthiest man in Manhattan, and a Brazilian Jew. She does this after her cousin Caleb Devrey pleads with their parents to let them marry, but then he spurns her, adding to the hostility between the families. Swerling’s descriptions make it impossible to turn away from the horror show that was, in its time, state of the art medicine. She could not have chosen a more riveting profession to pull the reader into time and place. Cupping and bleeding were prescribed for nearly everything, all but the most basic surgery was viewed with suspicion, variolation (inoculation) too new and therefore prohibited, and the nature of blood transfusions not yet understood. Human frailty, misunderstandings, pride, lust, and revenge drive the story forward, aided by a backdrop of politics, war, slave uprisings, and finally, the Revolution. A lot happens in this book and at a fairly fast clip that keeps you turning the page. Not knowing much about that era, I found it a real eye-opener of a novel and thoroughly enjoyable. What I Learned About Writing from Reading This Book One of the challenges of writing a historical novel is creating a multi-faceted view of a time and place. Otherwise you end up with a creation that resembles an early Hollywood period piece, all knights and ladies, without peasants or prostitutes; a historical setting that lacks verisimilitude. In a story such as City of Dreams that is already loaded with sub-plots, characters, and an ever-spreading family tree, how can you introduce characters and situations to create a fully-realized historical setting without adding more complexity? Swerling accomplishes this by taking advantage of her characters’ medical professions. By using the patients who the Turners and Devreys treat, she paints a rich and revealing picture of the pre-Revolutionary citizens of Manhattan, from the disenfranchised to the purveyors of power. These are characters with straightforward justifications for coming in to the doctors’ offices and in to the story. Some patients and their families play a part in the machinations of plot while others serve only to illustrate prevailing attitudes or offer a glimpse of lives both squalid and privileged. Swerling avoids overusing this device, and manages to introduce a diversity of human conditions in an entirely natural and unforced manner – for what is more natural than for people to fall ill and seek out a doctor, no matter their status? She achieves a densely layered rendering of the novel’s world without having to justify more subplots. There is narrative and exposition, prose which contributes to time and place; but for me it is the scenes between doctors and patients that vary the pace of the book, add immediacy, and most of all, put a human face on the social problems of the age. It makes me think about other settings that would allow you to take advantage of a natural crossroads of humanity. Marketplaces, perhaps, or a public park. A ship full of immigrants. I will continue to ponder places where all walks of life would meet and mingle naturally. Beverly was gracious enough to let me interview her (read here) ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Aug 10, 2012
|
Sep 22, 2012
|
Paperback
| |||||||||||||
5
| 
| 0758238568
| 9780758238566
| 0758238568
| 3.91
| 455
| Aug 01, 2011
| Sep 01, 2011
|
liked it
|
Fast-paced and filled with details that readers of historical novels crave, The Queen’s Gamble by Barbara Kyle is fourth in the Thornleigh series and
Fast-paced and filled with details that readers of historical novels crave, The Queen’s Gamble by Barbara Kyle is fourth in the Thornleigh series and set in the first year of Elizabeth I’s reign, when even her supporters doubt the young queen will survive to rule a second year. In The Queen’s Gamble, Scotland is the focus of political contention. The teenage Mary, Queen of Scots, is living in France, married to Francois II. Scotland is ruled by a regent, Mary of Guise, who is French. Tthe Scots lords fear their country will become no more than a province of France, and support the rebel Protestant preacher John Knox in what will become the Scottish Reformation. With no standing army and a token navy, Queen Elizabeth is poorly-equipped to defend England’s interests in a rebellion that is drawing in France and Spain. Meanwhile, after five years abroad, Isabel Thornleigh and her Spanish husband Carlos Valverde have built a prosperous life in the New World. Concerned for Isabel's parents, they sail back to London and almost immediately get pulled into schemes that threaten their prosperity, the Thornleigh's lives, and the life of their little son, Nico. Isabel and Carlos’ allegiances are split along complex and multiple rifts. Isabel’s brother Adam and her parents, Honor and Richard, are Protestants loyal to Elizabeth. Carlos is a Spanish subject and for now, Spain is nominally on England’s side. Adam’s wife Frances, however, is Catholic and furthermore, an unwelcome addition to the Thornleigh clan because she is from the Grenville family. To say there is bad blood between the families would be an understatement. To top it off, during her years in Peru, a Spanish colony, Isabel has become a Catholic, more for the sake of social convention than any true religious feeling. Isabel has not been kept abreast of all the Thornleigh’s intrigues and she feels hurt that her parents and brother evade her questions , thinking they don’t trust her now that she is a Catholic. This changes when her mother, a confidante to Queen Elizabeth, takes her to see the queen. Elizabeth entrusts Isabel with a mission to the Scottish rebels; then to guarantee Isabel’s cooperation, the Queen takes little Nico as a hostage. At the same time, Carlos, who needs a good word in the right ears at the Spanish court to ensure a privileged position of wealth in Peru, agrees to go to Scotland as a neutral Spanish observer on the French side. His neutral role doesn’t last very long. I’m happy to admit that I gobble up the Thornleigh novels like candy. One of the most satisfying traits of a Kyle novel is how her story folds in events that often receive nominal attention in general history texts. OK, to be perfectly honest, events I have skipped over because they sounded boring in textbooks. She always proves me wrong by adding a human dimension that explains why I should have been interested. Then, as if there isn't already plenty of intrigue in Tudor England, Kyle delivers plots and subplots that keep the pages turning practically by themselves. Her theater background is evident in the way her chapter endings leave you hanging. Just as a situation seems to improve, the tension escalates. Her characters are driven further and further apart, time and again, their desires thwarted by outside influences and human frailty. You know that Isabel and Carlos will come together by the end of the novel, but it’s impossible to imagine how. Yet Kyle pulls it off. What I Learned About Writing from Reading This Book If there is one thing that stands out for me in Kyle’s novels, it’s how she manages to make her characters’ change of heart as interesting as the action. As writers, we learn about the importance of a character’s inner journey: by the end of the novel, a character must have changed or grown in some way. Kyle sets the bar very high in this respect. In The Queen’s Lady, the first Thornleigh novel, she had my jaw on the floor at how she achieved a 180 degree change of heart in her main character, Honor Larke. In The Queen’s Gamble, I made a conscious effort to study how Kyle achieves this about-turn without overstretching our credulity. Carlos Valverde, a bastard and professional soldier of fortune, finally manages to build a stable life in Peru. Respectability and wealth mean more than anything else to him when he thinks of the advantages his son will have – and this bright future depends on total obedience to the Spanish monarch. Throughout the novel, Kyle pulls him in different directions and exposes him to conflicting points of view. When he rejects his wife Isabel for helping England instead of Spain (and in doing so, working against him) it seems inconceivable that he will be able to change his position. But he does change, and there are two reasons why it works. First, even though they are at odds, when events come to a head, Carlos still loves Isabel. For her sake, he helps her family. Second, when he does this, it’s a decision that strips away all hope of ever finding favour again with Spain. Freed of obligation to a country that will never truly accept him because of his lowly birth, Carlos finally can process everything that Isabel and others have been telling him in previous chapters. He realizes where his true allegiances belong. From now on, when I plot a character's inner journey, I'll be careful to avoid a sudden single pivot. Instead, I'll sprinkle the seeds of change throughout the novel and nudge the character along. Barbara was gracious enough to let me interview her (read here) ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Sep 20, 2012
|
Sep 22, 2012
|
Paperback
| |||||||||||||
3
| 
| 075822544X
| 9780758225443
| 075822544X
| 3.80
| 2,338
| Sep 01, 1994
| Aug 01, 2008
|
liked it
|
There’s plenty to like about this novel but I’m going to focus on something that really impressed me: Barbara Kyle pulls off a major feat of character
There’s plenty to like about this novel but I’m going to focus on something that really impressed me: Barbara Kyle pulls off a major feat of character development for her protagonist, Honor Larke. Honor grows up during a time when England is in the early stages of Protestant reform, when Henry VIII is trying to divorce his first queen, and the official religion of the realm is coming down hard on "heretics". Torture, betrayal, and burnings intimidate the population but also feed rebellion. When we first meet Honor, she is orphaned, then tricked out of her inheritance through the conniving of a greedy priest and an impoverished knight. Sir Thomas More makes her his ward, punishes the evil-doers, and gets her back her family estates. He also gives her an exceptional education. She loves Sir Thomas like a father and respects him like no other. Then at age seventeen, Honor goes to court to wait on Queen Catherine of Aragon. The Queen’s kindness binds Honor to her with real love, and the Queen’s plight moves Honor to carry secret messages for Katharine. Beloved ward of the saintly Thomas More, whose integrity even his harshest enemies could not tarnish. Lady-in-waiting to Catherine of Aragon, surely the most wronged of Henry’s wives, but who carried herself with true royal dignity until the end. All this should put Honor squarely in the Catholic camp. Could Kyle have invented a situation where a young woman would be less inclined to switch sides? Yet within the space of a few years, Honor betrays Catherine’s trust, estranges herself from Thomas More, allies herself with Thomas Cromwell, and begins smuggling Protestants out of danger. And Kyle brings this about in a way that is believable and consistent with Honor’s character, education, and upbringing. This change of heart is not just about Honor Larke. By taking us on Honor’s inner journey, Kyle helps us understand the soul-searching and anguish of ordinary Englishmen who took that same journey and changed history. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Jun 2012
|
Jun 02, 2012
|
Paperback
| |||||||||||||
9
| 
| 1594487561
| 9781594487569
| 1594487561
| 3.99
| 57,046
| Apr 29, 2010
| Apr 29, 2010
|
really liked it
|
Girl in Translation is the story of Kimberly Chang, an eleven-year old girl who arrives in Brooklyn from Hong Kong with her widowed mother. Their immi
Girl in Translation is the story of Kimberly Chang, an eleven-year old girl who arrives in Brooklyn from Hong Kong with her widowed mother. Their immigration has been arranged and paid for by Aunt Paula, her mother’s older sister. They are hopeful -- and why not? America is the country where dreams come true. Every novel needs a villain and here it’s Aunt Paula who takes on the role. Having paid for bringing her sister and niece to America, she now feels they owe her total obedience for the rest of their lives. Aunt Paula doesn’t say this in so many words, but Kimberly’s Ma understands the reality of their situation and makes Kimberly understand that except for Aunt Paula’s help they are completely without resources. But even Ma can’t guess how little her own sister is willing to do for them. Aunt Paula gives them housing, but it’s an illegal apartment in a derelict neighborhood of tenements. The apartment has no heat and is infested with vermin. When winter comes, ice forms inside the windows. As for work, first Aunt Paula protests that Ma is too frail to babysit her two sons; then she puts Ma to work in the clothing sweatshop that she manages. Like all the sweatshop workers’ children, Kimberly comes to the factory after school to help Ma with the piecework so that they can make their quota. Each month, Uncle Bob scrupulously deducts part of Ma’s earnings for rent and their immigration repayment costs. Mother and daughter live on what’s left, barely enough to cover food. Unused to American ways and unable to achieve the stellar grades she earned in Hong Kong, Kimberly plays hooky to escape from her difficulties at school. Then one day she realizes how little her mother earns, that Ma will never have the time or energy after a grueling day’s work to learn English and get a better job, and that if they depend on Aunt Paula, Kimberly will end up working at the sweatshop when she finishes school. From then on, it’s all about grades; not only because of her deeply-engrained belief that education is the ticket to a better life, but because Kimberly has no other avenue. It’s up to her to get them out of the factory. When Kimberly earns a full scholarship to an exclusive prep school, Aunt Paula’s surprising reaction is one of anger, quickly smoothed over; from this, Kimberly and Ma realize they are not allowed to outshine Aunt Paula’s family. From then on, they lie about Kimberly’s grades, hiding the fact that she is smarter than her cousin Nelson so that Aunt Paula can save face. In the scenes with Aunt Paula, we see tyranny and strong emotions concealed behind the elaborate courtesies of Chinese etiquette, occasional cracks in the veneer revealing just enough to communicate the true meaning of practiced, polite assurances. I really liked the way Kwok drops in literal translations of Chinese expressions into Kimberly and her Ma’s speech; for example, to be of “small heart” means to be very careful. I also liked the way she constructs English idioms and phrases as they sound to a bewildered Kimberly, so that we understand why they don’t make sense. Kwok manages to put the reader so firmly in Kimberly’s mind that we also journey through the story straddling both cultures. Kimberly may be naïve, but so are her well-meaning American friends. A classmate argues with Kimberly, saying that she can’t be working in a factory because her father says it’s against the law to put children to work. There have been many books about the Chinese immigrant experience and Girl in Translation is only the second such book that has made me feel as though I had fallen right into the narrator’s life – or that the author had been spying on mine. The other was Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club. The writing captured me from the start. You feel as though you’re reading a diary, an account of true events and not a work of fiction. There is immediacy to Kimberly’s unvarnished observations. The novel takes you behind the stereotypes of Asian immigrants. Education is a priority not just because it’s the route to a better life; sometimes a report card is the only benchmark parents can hold up as validation of their choice to leave behind the safe and the familiar. This is an immigrant experience that explores the conflicting dynamics of family, poking holes at the notion of a cohesive community that takes care of its own. It exposes the world of sweatshops and the exploitation of new arrivals by those who are more established. Jean Kwok opens to us the heart and mind of a young girl doggedly steering her way out of that world, and it’s an unforgettable ride. What I Learned About Writing from Reading This Book This is a novel drawn from personal experience and there is an authenticity to Girl in Translation you rarely encounter. So I can tell you in one word what I learned about writing from this book: courage. Hemingway said “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” But how many of us are willing to cut so close to the bone and expose ourselves in this way? Not only to relive a terrible time but also to examine those memories closely, discover their meaning, and render them into words that can move others? In no way was my journey to Canadian citizenship as fraught as Kimberly’s. I managed to avoid the worst experiences of being a stranger in a strange land because I already spoke English (my father worked overseas all through my childhood). We were not wealthy and my parents cultivated a habit of thrift, but there was never any doubt that they would send us to university. But Kimberly’s story so easily could have been mine. There, but for the grace of English and financial security, could have been my family. There were countless scenes in the book I found extremely difficult to read. It was like reliving the first difficult years of adjusting to life in Canada, but worse: that feeling of being apart, helplessly different and unwanted, amplified by culture shock, language barriers, racism and poverty. As I read, Girl in Translation peeled away the protective layers I had acquired over the years. I felt the truth of those experiences and cringed. I could hardly bear to read some of the passages, and can’t imagine what kind of bloodletting it took for Kwok to actually write those scenes. Authenticity doesn't depend upon writing about your own life experiences. It takes truth, which is sometimes pitiless and relentless. And it takes courage to delve into truth, no matter what the topic. Even for this book review, I can't summon up the courage to write about the emotions it dredged up to the surface. One day I will sit at the typewriter and bleed, truly bleed. Until then, this book will stay on my bookshelf as a reminder of what you can achieve when you allow your authentic voice to speak. Jean graciously allowed me to interview her (read here) ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
May 15, 2012
|
May 31, 2012
|
Hardcover
| |||||||||||||
4
| 
| 075823855X
| 9780758238559
| 075823855X
| 3.88
| 522
| Aug 19, 2010
| Sep 01, 2010
|
liked it
|
This historical novel had me hooked within the first few pages. Even when I realized it was not the first book in the Thornfield series (and the rest
This historical novel had me hooked within the first few pages. Even when I realized it was not the first book in the Thornfield series (and the rest were in my library bag), I didn’t put it down but kept reading. Why? Because the heroine is a woman of a certain age. At the start of the series, a few books back, Honor was a young innocent who fell into an adventure. Pretty standard premise. Here, she’s been married for decades to Richard, her heartthrob from Book 1, they’ve raised children, and they are really too old to be gallivanting around trying to topple a monarch. But they do anyway. Both Honor and her husband long for peaceful resolutions to their troubles, but trouble just keeps finding them and Kyle keeps the pace of the story snapping along. What happens to young, beautiful, lusty main characters once that first adventure is over? Give full credit to author Kyle for portraying her characters in middle age and keeping it real. There is still plenty of passion that motivates the (younger) characters to take risks, but what I loved was the role Kyle sets for Honor: she uses her brains and experience to try and influence a young Princess Elizabeth, who is on the verge of decisions that affect her life and the fate of the realm. Honor becomes a mentor to the princess, even if Elizabeth doesn’t always welcome the advice. I’m rather glad to have made Honor’s acquaintance at this stage of her life. Now on to the “The Queen’s Lady” to see whether her younger self is as interesting. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
not set
|
May 31, 2012
|
Paperback
| |||||||||||||
7
| 
| 0380715929
| 9780380715923
| 0380715929
| 3.98
| 8,617
| Jan 01, 1990
| Sep 01, 1991
|
really liked it
|
I won't summarize this book since others have written some very good synopses already. I'll just talk about what grabbed me. Harrison's rich prose desc I won't summarize this book since others have written some very good synopses already. I'll just talk about what grabbed me. Harrison's rich prose describes a civilization she has obviously researched very carefully. I was caught up right away in the lives of a Native American tribe and enjoying the read when BANG! the end of the first chapter one stuns you as though someone swung a whalebone club over your head. From then on, the tension never lets up as the main character Chagak struggles to survive: first for her brother, then for the old man who becomes her surrogate grandfather, then for her own child. This book is not only a pleasure to read, it's an education. I haven't studied anthropology much, or the lives of the Pacific NW tribes who live in the Aleutian islands. This book brings home the beauty and dangers of the islands. Chagak and her people are amazingly resourceful, making use of every plant and animal available to them. They are always keenly aware that the sea and wind can turn on them in a moment, robbing them of their homes and lives. By the end of the book, I felt so much respect for these early people, for their ingenuity and self-sufficiency, their knowledge of nature. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
May 26, 2012
|
May 27, 2012
|
Mass Market Paperback
| |||||||||||||
2
| 
| 1443404020
| 9781443404020
| 1443404020
| 3.34
| 7,228
| Mar 20, 2012
| Mar 20, 2012
|
really liked it
|
**spoiler alert** The Imposter Bride was shortlisted for the 2012 Scotiabank Giller Prize, Canada’s most distinguished literary prize for the best Can
**spoiler alert** The Imposter Bride was shortlisted for the 2012 Scotiabank Giller Prize, Canada’s most distinguished literary prize for the best Canadian novel or short story collection published in English. I was thrilled, because I loved this book. The Second World War is over and in a small room beside a banquet hall, mail-order bride Lily Azerov sits on a couch with her new husband Nathan Kramer. She has come to Montreal from Poland, via Palestine. It was Nathan’s brother, Sol, who was supposed to marry Lily. Sol however, took one look at Lily at the train station and without even making himself known, left her waiting at the station with her suitcase. Perhaps Sol sensed something difficult about Lily, something more complicated than he was ready to accept. The next day, Nathan goes to the house where Lily is staying to apologize on behalf of his family. He too, takes one look at Lily but unlike Sol, decides to marry her. Nathan is content to let Lily take her time settling in, content to wait for her to feel safe enough to tell him her story. The mystery of his bride’s past doesn’t daunt him but even as Lily herself wonders when she can slip into the security of her new life, her stolen name threatens to reveal itself. Lily Azerov is not the real Lily, who is dead, and whose diary she carries, whose identity papers she used to escape, whose death gave her a new life. One day, the false Lily leaves the house to buy milk, taking only her handbag. She vanishes, leaving behind her husband Nathan and three-month-old baby Ruth. Growing up, the only communications Ruth receives from her missing mother are eccentric birthday packages which arrive at erratic intervals, each one containing a small, beautiful rock, labeled with a date and the name of the place where the rock was found. There is no return address, but the packages can only have come from Lily. None of the Kramers talk about Lily; there is no blame or curiosity attached to her whereabouts, at least not in front of Ruth. Nathan does not go looking for her and by the time Ruth finally does, she is the mother of three children who want to know about their beautiful, unknowable grandmother. The Imposter Bride mesmerized me from start to finish, with its beautiful, controlled prose that swings the reader seamlessly between Jewish Montreal to the bleak wreckage of wartime Europe. Richler describes a post-war immigrant community determined to live a blessedly mundane life, a community that understands how each person must walk a different path to cope with loss. Some settle into the comfort of an ordinary existence while others need to put more distance between themselves and their memories. Although she has fled as far as Montreal, it turns out this is not far enough for the Lily. Richler never hands us Lily’s entire story, only the barest outlines of her movements during the war, scraps of memory, and brief observations from other characters. More telling than any outright narrative, Lily’s unspoken past hints at tragedies the Jewish community knows all too well, too painful to tell. We understand in the end, as Ruth does, that Lily’s act of abandonment was both an act of survival and love. What I Learned About Writing from Reading This Book My own writing pretty much follows a straight sequenced narrative, mostly because I lack the skill to play with flashbacks. I’ve been trying to figure out how Richler interlaces so many strands of time and place without leaving me confused about where I am in the chronology of the story. Within the first chapter we learn how Lily Azerov came by her identity papers, and by the second chapter we know she walks out on her family, and we keep on reading, waiting for answers that emerge gradually, through scenes that overlap ever so slightly, seen through different eyes, connected to earlier episodes. There are segments about Lily and her life in Montreal. There are Ruth’s childhood memories. We share fragments of everyone's past: Ida Pearl, the jeweler, who is cousin to the real Lily; her daughter Elka, who marries Sol; Bella, the Kramer matriarch. Every chapter moves through several different times or points of view, seemingly at random, yet the story always feels anchored. At first I thought that Richler managed this through point of view: Ruth’s narratives are in the first person, her chapters crisscrossing from childhood to university, while the other chapters are written in the third person. Yet this chapter-by-chapter differentiation through point of view does not suffice to keep the story line under control. A chapter might begin with Lily, transition to her time in Palestine, and close with an excerpt from the dead girl’s diary; or a chapter might start on the evening of Sol’s first date with Elke, then on to Ida Pearl’s letter that warns her about the false Lily, all the while shifting seamlessly through snippets of family history on both sides. Now I see that Richler makes sure we don’t get lost by closing the loop and finishing each chapter back where it started. Each chapters is like a pendulum, oscillating in widespread arcs of narrative. For example, the novel begins with Nathan and Lily’s wedding, followed by a flashback where we learn more about Lily as she strips the dead girl of a diary, a diamond, and an identity card. We return to scenes at the wedding, where Sol recalls and regrets how he walked out on Lily at the station. At the wedding also are Ida Pearl and Elka, the older woman there to see whether the bride is her cousin Lily; there is Nathan’s mother Bella, watching the wedding and thinking back on her own marriage. Then in the second chapter, a small, beautiful rock arrives for Ruth’s birthday, and this event naturally leads to an account of how Lily vanished. But the arcs gradually diminish in amplitude so that by the end of the book the pendulum is stilled. There is a chapter composed of a single pivotal scene about Lily that offers a reason for her disappearance; then follows a chapter of chronological narrative about Ruth’s search for her mother. In chapters where memories intrude, we are returned at the end to the time, place, situation or theme that started the chapter. This, and Richler’s masterful, seamless transitions are what keep the story line under control and the reader anchored. At the moment, I can only conceive of structure in terms of plot. This book has helped me better understand another dimension to structure, which in the future I will try out to add more texture to my writing. For now I think I”ll just work on seamless transitions -- and try to remember about the closed loop approach to handling flashbacks. Nancy was gracious enough to let me interview her. (read here) ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
May 02, 2012
|
May 16, 2012
|
Hardcover
| |||||||||||||
1
| 
| 0743228138
| 9780743228138
| 0743228138
| 3.75
| 851
| 2001
| Mar 07, 2005
|
really liked it
|
Beverly Swerling’s novels introduced me to early American history, and Shadowbrook is my favourite of them all. It takes place before the American Rev
Beverly Swerling’s novels introduced me to early American history, and Shadowbrook is my favourite of them all. It takes place before the American Revolution during the French and Indian wars. There is plenty of history about a conflict that doesn’t get much attention, a war that was not as glamorous or definitively triumphant as 1776, but still essential to understanding the dynamics of the alliances that formed before the colonies finally went to war with Britain. There’s lots of the competent story-telling I’ve come to expect from Swerling. Other reviewers have summarized the plot, so I’ll just focus on why I liked it. This book is more intimate than Swerling’s other novels; she lets us spend time with the people. The two main characters, Quentin Hale and Cormac Shea, arrive at Shadowbrook, their family plantation and immediately the intrigue begins, complications fed by family dynamics, and deepened by war, love, and avarice. There’s lots to keep the pages turning, but it’s the scenes set in Shadowbrook that stand out for me. I loved the small details of everyday life on the farm, the self-sufficient toughness of its workers and tenants. Shadowbrook, a precarious oasis of safety in a perilous time, brought this era of history alive for me. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
not set
|
Aug 14, 2011
|
Paperback
| |||||||||||||
17
| 
| 1554686431
| 9781554686438
| 1554686431
| 3.63
| 914
| 2011
| 2010
|
it was amazing
|
The Big Wave, by the 19th century artist Hokusai, is perhaps the single most recognized Japanese work of art. The artist Hokusai was prolific and neve
The Big Wave, by the 19th century artist Hokusai, is perhaps the single most recognized Japanese work of art. The artist Hokusai was prolific and never satisfied with his work. He evolved his style continuously and painted until the end of his long life. Or did he? Govier’s book points to Oei, Hokusai’s unconventional daughter, as the real artist behind the masterpieces produced during the final years of her father’s life. The Ghost Brush is the story of a woman lost to history, from an era and society when women were not allowed to claim a career or identity for themselves. Oei is unforgettable, driven to paint by her own talent, exasperated by her father’s eccentricity, bound to him by grudging admiration and love. Set in 19th century Japan during the Edo period, the novel plunges us into a society whose rulers resist modernization; the Shogun issues new rules nearly every day to ban some activity or object they suspect might harm their citizen’s morals. With each new edict, artists and writers must find ways to outsmart the Shogun’s laws. It’s not simply a matter of free expression or wit – if an artist paints calendars for a living and calendars are suddenly outlawed, a family could starve. Oei’s family teeters constantly between poverty and starvation, not only because of the constantly changing laws that force Hokusai to find new ways to paint for money, but because Hokusai is useless when it comes to money. He scorns it, can’t manage it, won’t sell his paintings to people he doesn’t like. He’s not difficult, as Oei says. He’s impossible. Father and daughter are bound to each other from the moment of her birth. She understands his talent like no one else, while he is perversely proud of her ugliness, her intelligence, her unconventional behaviour. Hokusai even takes along his little daughter when he visits the Yoshiwara, a licensed pleasure district of brothers, bars, and restaurants that is as much of a character as any of the humans in the novel. Govier submerges us in prose that unleashes dense images of a raucous, vulgar, and brilliant world. It is in the Yoshiwara that they meet Shino, the noble-born courtesan, sold to a brothel by her husband for disobeying his orders. This bohemian world introduces us also to the playwright Sanba, who becomes Oei’s longtime lover, poets and painters, courtesans and a blind masseuse. During Hokusai’s spells of restlessness he takes her out of the city and they trudge country roads to fishing villages, to the sea and views of Mt. Fuji. There is even a foreign doctor from the Dutch East India Company who buys Hokusai’s paintings, a sale that puts the artist under suspicion from the Shogun’s spies. But the story revolves around Hokusai and Oei, who becomes her father’s apprentice. She runs his studio, corrects his students’ work and finishes his paintings when he loses interest – so that she can sell them to support the family. Even after she realizes that Hokusai craves recognition for his art above all else and takes her loyalty for granted, she is bound to the tyranny of his genius. I rank this novel as one of the best I’ve read in the last ten years. Oei is an amazing creation, a stubborn, talented woman born into a tightly-regulated society. She refuses to conform and manages to dodge censure until she tries to paint her way out of her father’s shadow. But there’s more to the book than interesting relationships and memorable characters. Govier’s writing is stellar. How she manages to infuse her writing with so much vivid, sensory detail without mangling her sentences into overwrought heaps of prose is beyond me. You breathe in the smell of salted fish on sticks roasting over a charcoal hibachi, hear the high-pitched cries of vendors, feel the touch of snow released from a grey sky and watch the procession of courtesans stepping carefully through the streets between tenement houses built of wood and paper. The Ghost Brush was pure pleasure from start to finish. What I Learned About Writing from Reading This Book I read and re-read the first 40 pages of The Ghost Brush. Granted, this is a literary novel and it’s not necessary to have a dead body in the first five pages or set a hero on his journey within the first chapter. We’ve all been told to set up conflict, tension, and a premise at the beginning because we need to ‘hook’ the reader. Govier does nothing of this sort and yet I’m riveted to the story, whatever it may turn out to be. I know I'm in good hands. * There’s a brief first chapter where Oei’s ghost introduces herself and her father. * In the next chapter, Oei is born. She describes her father, her family, her neighborhood. * Next chapter, our view of her world widens out. More about her father, how he treats his family. We follow Oei and Hokusai through the Yoshiwara, meet new characters, learn more about Edo’s . * Only in chapter four, when Shino the courtesan appears, do we see a key relationship and story thread developing. Sure, Hokusai is a pretty entertaining character and Oei’s voice is wonderful: funny, ironic, blunt. But is it enough to keep me reading? Finally, I think I’ve worked it out. Vignettes. I don't know what else to call them, but within each of these early chapters, Govier has written a series of vignettes that move us deeper into the world of the novel. Sometimes they are told as narrative, sometimes as scenes, or slices of life. Each vignette contains a story arc or two and reveals more about Oei’s circumstances. Each one layers on more tension until we understand that beneath the untidy glamour of the Yoshiwara, there runs an undercurrent of despair. The bakufu, the feudal government of this era, is not merely oppressive and merciless. The law is a moving target that changes at the whim of the Shogun and his officials. They have spies everywhere. Through the vignettes we realize that like nature, political danger is an omnipresent source of conflict. The characters deal with irrational edicts the way they would nature – they try to survive by skirting around the worst of it. It takes a lot of storytelling skill, exceptional prose, and an interesting setting to pull off something like this. Kids, don’t try it at home! And if you do, make sure you have a good editor on your side! It’s going to be a while and a few more manuscripts before I feel competent enough to attempt anything like this. The Ghost Brush Katherine Govier Katherine was gracious enough to let me interview her (read here) ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Nov 15, 2011
|
Aug 14, 2011
|
Paperback
| |||||||||||||
11
| 
| 3.16
| 149
| Jan 01, 2007
| Feb 13, 2007
|
liked it
|
It’s 1952 and New Jersey housewife Daisy Lawrence waits at Mitchell Air Force Base for the plane that brings 18-year-old Keiko Kitigawa from Japan. Da
It’s 1952 and New Jersey housewife Daisy Lawrence waits at Mitchell Air Force Base for the plane that brings 18-year-old Keiko Kitigawa from Japan. Daisy is hosting Keiko, who is no ordinary home stay guest but a Hiroshima Maiden – a survivor of the bomb, the recipient of free American plastic surgery to remove her scars, and a poster child for the anti-bomb movement that funded her trip. Once Keiko’s disfigurement has been repaired, the sponsors of The Hiroshima Project will take her on tour to give testimony of the bomb’s devastation. Shaena Lambert has chosen a complex and unnerving period in American history for RADIANCE. Immediately following the Second World War, the United States is the most powerful nation in the world, with the most powerful weapon in the world. But the McCarthy Hearings make Americans doubt their country’s internal stability. Keiko’s arrival, only seven years after the end of the war, adds enough disruption to stir emotions to the surface in Daisy’s small world. Her neighbor, once a POW, resents Keiko’s presence. The Resident’s Committee wants to meet about the home stay situation, which Daisy did not discuss with them beforehand. And then there is the Hiroshima Maiden herself, scarred yet beautiful, a vulnerable and passive canvas who engages the imaginations of the Americans around her. A young photographer sees his dead sister in Keiko and courts her. Daisy’s husband Walter finds himself telling Keiko things he’s never told Daisy. Irene, a social-climbing journalist who has attached herself to the Hiroshima Project, believes that Keiko is a cynic who understands perfectly the implications of speaking out against the bomb in exchange for surgery. Daisy is not so sure. Keiko is formal and distant, but Daisy’s generous maternal instincts sense fear in the young woman, a reluctance to recite – and relive – memories of devastation and the deaths of her family. Daisy’s conviction that Keiko needs to back out of the publicity tour propels her from being an amiable and inoffensive homemaker to a determined, if ineffective, advocate for Keiko. Keiko could so easily have been a grateful, cooperative character, but then Lambert’s tale would have been far too transparent. Who is being manipulated? What lies do we tell so that we can face ourselves? The Hiroshima Maiden reveals to us the people around her; she becomes a focal point for their guilt, righteousness, self-delusion and awkward truths. But we catch only glimpses of Keiko’s true feelings, layered between her own guilt, nightmares, and memories of the unspoiled Hiroshima of her childhood. What I Learned About Writing from Reading This Book I believed that for a metaphor to be effective, it had to run through the fabric of the novel, invisible but omnipresent. When I was writing my own novel, I had wanted to use a river as metaphor for memory, but ended up ripping it out. It was just too unsustainable trying to inject watery images everywhere. [And OK, I just really, really wanted the chance to use “riparian” somewhere] For me, the most revealing passages in the book were Keiko's recollections of childhood, especially her time with her grandfather who told ghost stories about bakemono, fox spirits. Maybe it’s because I’m Chinese, but I could not help gravitating to this metaphor of a shape-shifting creature, subject of countless folk tales. In Asian ghost stories, the fox spirit usually takes on the form of a beautiful woman who tricks her way into marriage with a human husband; sometimes she even gives him children. Then one day, after years of apparent bliss, the fox spirit is unmasked, usually by an outsider. The consequences of the man’s relationship with the fox spirit depend on whether the spirit is evil or helpful – yet there is always a wistful sort of ambiguity about the fox spirit, even if it turns out to be evil. After all, she spent all those years playing the part of a devoted wife. The challenge with the fox spirits metaphor is that it needs to cross cultures, to conjure up a world of meaning for non-Asians. But instead of bringing it up and offering context at every turn, I see now that setting up a metaphor can be entirely separate from how it is evoked. Lambert confines mention of bakemono to the Hiroshima of Keiko’s memories: the shrine near their home guarded by twin fox statues, her grandfather's stories about fox spirits, how he could name all the species of foxes. Whether or not you are acquainted with Asian ghost stories, you understand these stories reside deeply within Keiko's being. Thus when Keiko tells Daisy that her mother used to call her ‘little fox child’, she is signalling her unreliable nature to Daisy in the most obvious way possible for a Japanese, yet without revealing herself. And when the fox spirit manifests in America, it is only as a sound, the swish of an animal tail in her hospital room when Keiko hallucinates about her mother. It is a momentary delusion, but after this the fox spirit comes to mind, can’t help but come to mind in all its ambiguity, its true purpose hidden from humans as we realize that Keiko is remaking herself, transforming into the Hiroshima Maiden her sponsors want her to be. Metaphor is so contextual and often specific to culture. If I had chosen to use fox spirits, it’s very likely I would been ineffective; I would have used fewer words while setting up that metaphor – simply because it’s so recognizable to me that it would feel heavy-handed to do more -- and clumsily tried to pull it more frequently into the narrative. RADIANCE reinforces an important lesson: that when you are writing for a multi-cultural audience, you need to create references that are accessible, and at the same time, trust in your readers' intelligence to make the connection. In her novel, Lambert does this by ensuring we understand the personal significance bakemono carries for Keiko, even if we don’t grasp fully the nature of fox spirits. Then, delicately and deliberately, with just the flick of a ghostly tail, she sets the metaphor in motion. Shaena was gracious enough to let me interview her (read here) ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Nov 10, 2012
|
Aug 14, 2011
|
Hardcover
|
Loading...
17 of 17 loaded
