Mary McCarthy’s most celebrated novel follows the lives of eight Vassar graduates (Class of ‘33), known simply to their classmates as “the group.”
The tangled stories of eight different lives are united by the pivotal figure of Kay Strong—the first of the group to break from the traditions of society by getting married without parental guidance.
The social history presented here, pre-World War II, is equal in period quality to that presented in the tv show Mad Men (if not moreso).
The girls are all middle-class or upper-middle class, growing up during a revolutionary period in American life where women are forming an identity beyond their social class, beyond their parent’s social aspirations.
They work outside the home, they travel abroad alone, they philosophize, they use birth control, they buy this new thing called margarine.
All eight are in some way breaking with the past and forging a new status quo while at the same time falling into prescribed roles.
The language choice is striking and the novel’s structure of twists and turns reveals layers of insights into each character through the commentary and interior monologues of other characters.
McCarthy’s novel was published in 1963, thirty years after the time described in the novel, but the picture she paints of the times seems complete as well as insightful. (I particularly enjoyed the incredibly rich word choice and complex sentence structure. This is a novel written in a different time and its structure is reflective of the times represented.)
It was plain to Polly that many of her married classmates were disappointed in their husbands and envied the girls, like Helena, who had not got married. In June the class would have its fifth reunion and already it had its first divorcees. These hares were discussed wistfully by the tortoises of the class. It was felt that they at least had ‘done something.’ Norine Blake’s divorce—she had gone to a ranch outside Reno and now called herself ‘Mrs. Schmittlapp Blake’—had earned her a place of renowned in alumnae affairs equal to that of Connie Storey, who had become a model for Bergdorf, or of Lily Marvin, who dressed windows for Elizabeth Arden, and outranking poor Binkie Barnes, who was working as CIO organizer, and Bubbles Purdy, who was studying to be a preacher.
“A witty, moving, instructive and wise novel—a gem of American social history as well as very good fiction.” —The Nation
Ordinary Thunderstorms is a well written book with a horrible, morally short premise. I did not like this book, but I’d still recommend it. How’s that for conflict?
Adam Kindred happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. In shock, he makes a serious of choices that make his situation worse. Throughout the book he continues to make poor decisions and yet the novel ends with no dire consequence to him. This is what I didn’t like.
What happens? (If you don’t like spoilers, stop now.)
Adam Kindred happens to meet Philip Wang in an Italian cafe. Wang forgets a file at his table. Adam decides to call him and personally return the file. He arrives at Wang’s apartment only to find Wang murdered, well, he’s not quite dead. Wang asks Adam to remove the knife stabbed into him, which Adam does. Adam’s finger prints are now on the murder weapon. Adam flees.
Adam continues to flee throughout the book. Wang’s killer continues to track Adam. The police bollocks things up. There’s conspiracy theories and secret agents. It’s all stupid, really. Adam continues to make dumb mistakes. I continued to read.
And as I mentioned, nothing really happens.
I tried not to spoil the details for you. I disliked this book, but if you like random, literary mystery stories, this is well written.
The day job requires me to pretend like I know how to manage employees so I subscribe to a number of newsletters for HR, entrepreneurs and managers. I don’t find a ton of useful information, although it is good reinforcement that in all situations common sense should prevail.
What I learned was that whether it’s lateness, harassment, poor behaviour or lousy productivity, you should do something, and you should do it sooner rather than later.
Paul definitely has a “corporate America” take on how to have these conversations, but I still found value in his guidelines and the sample dialogues.
I was eagerly looking for anything to read in the Denver airport. I’d lost my previous book on another flight and wasn’t anticipating success in the airport bookstore. But I did spot Little Bee and picked it up because a woman in my row on the last flight had been reading it.
The first page and the back cover sealed the purchase.
We don’t want to tell you WHAT HAPPENS in this book.
It is a truly SPECIAL STORY and we don’t want to spoil it.
NEVERTHELESS, you need to know enough to buy it, so we will just say this:
This is the story of two women. Their lives collide one fateful day, and one of them has to make a terrible choice, the kind of choice we hope you never have to face. Two years later, they meet again - the story starts there ...
Once you have read it, you’ll want to tell your friends about it. When you do, please don’t tell them what happens. The magic is in how the story unfolds.
Chris Cleave has created an English garden maze of a novel. At each page-turn you are introduced to a new path, another piece of the puzzle, a possible way out.
Madame de Stael: The First Modern Woman by Francine Du Plessix Gray is a beautiful book. I picked it up in McNally Jackson in Soho. Lovely. And the writing is, of course, equally fabulous.
What I love about bookstores are these types of discoveries. If McNally Jackson wasn’t such a gem of a store, and didn’t have interesting tables of books and little nooks to display staff favourites, then I would not have purchased this book or even known about it. Thank you McNally.
Madame de Staël was a legendary conversationalist. Schooled by her mother and well versed in the salon by the time she married, Madame de Staël was known for her intelligence, enthusiasm and eloquence—and natural conversation skills, unlike her mother’s, which were quite forced.
De Staël was passionate about politics, women’s rights and her father. The first part of the book details her childhood at the hands of her demanding mother and how she doted on her father, who was Louis XVI’s minister of finance. I just got into the section about her marriage, many affairs and motherhood then I misplaced my book! It’s lost somewhere in Florida so I have another on order from McNally Robinson Booksellers in Winnipeg (the parents of Sarah McNally, who runs McNally Jackson in Soho). Until then I shall have to wait to read about her battle of wills with Napoléon Bonaparte and the epic tales about her salon.
In the meantime, could everyone go find a gem in their local bookstore please. I would like them to remain in existence—both the gems and the bookstores.
Back in December I previewed The Dread Crew, and I’m thrilled to say that it’s every bit as wonderful as I’d hoped. The Dread Crew are a bunch of wily backwoods pirates who go around mucking up the place and being general nuisances and bullies. They take what they want and do what they want and are rather miserable about it all.
The Dread Crew are what Max and the Wild Things would have become if Max stuck around as their king.
Thankfully, good ol’ junk collector Joe knows just how to turn a brawling bunch of junk-hunting pirates into eccentric, and adored, members of the community.
The Dread Crew is a funny book that’s good for little people who like to be read to and big people who like a good laugh. For example, the most feared pirate punishment is office work.
If your kids are still enough to enjoy chapter books, then they should be game for this one. There’s nothing about it that reminds me of Charlotte’s Web, but I feel like it’s that kind of book, one to remember and to read and re-read.
I adore the Dread Crew: Hector the Wrecker Gristle, Slime Bucket Sam, Cranky Frankie, Fetchin Gretchen, and the whole pirate gang.
The Dread Crew: Pirates for the Backwoods by Kate Inglis
Published in Canada by Nimbus Publishing
Click the cover to browse inside (opens new window).
I came to know Chuck Klosterman through his fiction work, Downtown Owl,. Because I loved his novel so much I started seeking out his other works, which seemed to be nonfiction essays. Eating the Dinosaur is one of those collections and it’s brilliant. Not a day goes by that I don’t quote something from this book.
Eating the Dinosaur is the Chicken Soup for the Smarty-pants Soul.
I used to be annoyed when James constantly quoted or mentioned essays in this book. He read the book first, But I adopted these habits after finishing the book. Dammit, Klosterman is smart, or at least his ideas are compelling, which makes him seem smart, and by default makes me feel smart. Hence the smarty-pants comment above.
Chuck Klosterman has good journalist written all over him. He’s covered music, film, and sports, and remembers the details. He dissects pop culture the way miners pan for gold. After clearing away the dirt and shifting away the common things, Klosterman holds up the nuggets. And those nuggets are the totality of perspectives, attitudes, memes, images and other phenomena that make up our understanding of the world, and by world I mean world of culture consumption.
He talks about why music fan’s hate their favorite bands. Why superstars aren’t paid enough. Why singers are compelled to try out different personalities. Why interviewees want to tell the truth. What the truth is. Why Germans don’t laugh at nervous North American laughter. Why North Americans laugh. Why Ralph Nader is a literalist and how that makes him unlikeable. How the Unabomber could be wrong in his actions but right in his thoughts. Why TV is bad and the Branch Dividian not so bad. And why politicians are terribly sorry, and alcoholic.
This is my favourite nonfiction book of 2010. (The Waterproof Bible is my favourite novel, in case you’re asking.)
Eating the Dinosaur by Chuck Klosterman
Published in Canada by Simon and Schuster in hardcover, paperback and ebook.
Sarah Waters is a lovely writer. She has written four bestselling novels: Tipping the Velvet, Affinity, Fingersmith and The Night Watch. Tipping the Velvet and Fingersmith were by far my favourites, and those rankings stand.
The Little Stranger is a dark, and maddeningly compelling, read. Set in post-World-War-I rural Warwickshire, the dumpy, semi-successful bachelor Dr. Faraday has the hots for plain-Jane, fallen-from-riches Caroline Ayres. It’s an Austen-esque affair with a Mary Shelley monster story as a plot driver.
The Austen Element: Dr. Faraday becomes interested in Caroline Ayres, or perhaps the status she represents (even though she’s poorer than a church mouse). Caroline is interested in Dr. Faraday as an exit route from her dire circumstances and family burdens. I won’t spoil the romance tale by telling you what happens here.
The Shelley Element: Hundreds Hall has been home to the Ayres family for centuries. It’s a grand mansion that’s crumbling without dignity. An eyesore, a money sinkhole and an emotional burden (how can you give up the family home even as it drags you down), the home has personality and character in ways that become hauntingly evident throughout the novel.
As sinister things occur to each family member, it is Dr. Faraday, our trusty narrator, who is left to rationalize the happenings. But is he so endearing? Is he an infallible narrator?
Again, I won’t spoil it by telling you my thoughts here. Instead I’ll say that although the narrative was eerie and formed a great literary suspense story, I found Dr. Faraday exasperating. Not enough to stop reading, but enough to feel like he was an unwanted guest at an afternoon tea party from which I couldn’t extract myself.
If you like Sarah Waters, definitely give this one a read. If you haven’t heard of her before, start with Tipping the Velvet or Fingersmith, then make your way to this novel.
Not only does Greystone publish beautifully written books, they design them beautifully. This petite package is absolutely lovely. The Amazon thumbnail below does not do it justice.
One word review: Eloquent
Crozier is a fine, fine writer. Her memoir’s style is like a novel, or a Canadian long poem for those of you who know what that is. The vivid narrative, wistful poetry and snippets of daily life take us to Crozier’s childhood and adolescence in Swift Current, Saskatchewan. The poverty of the prairies is mixed with the stoicism of prairie folk—hard-working toilers of the land who love to stand in the wheat, feel the wind in their hair, and can’t imagine a better place. (And, of course, there are the town drunks, the self-righteous, the nosy neighbours, and all variety of friends.)
Small Beneath the Sky was a slow read for me, each sentence so tightly crafted that I needed to savour it like a popsicle on a hot summer day.
Constance Kellough
Constance Kellough is the president of Namaste Publishing, the publisher that brought us Eckhart Tolle. In her book The Leap, she proposes that consciousness is a reality anyone can enter at any time. The key is stillness, not silence. The Leap promises to help you stay present with the physical realm in a profoundly deep way. As the Zen masters say: Before enlightenment, chop wood and carry water; after enlightenment, chop wood and carry water.
“This is a book of crystalline vibration…The Leap assists humanity to purposefully, passionately and compassionately support our leap into a new reality.” Ann, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada
Andrew Kaufman is one of my favourite writers, even though he’s only written one book, All My Friends Are Superheroes. But that changes this month with the publication of his second book, a novel called The Waterproof Bible—and I’m meaning that what’s changed in the number of books published, not my fandom.
The Waterproof Bible backcover has one of those descriptions that either impresses you or frightens you.
A magical story of love and the isolation that defines the modern condition - Andrew Kaufman pulls off the near impossible and creates a wholly original allegorical tale that is both emotionally resonant and outlandishly fun.
Rebecca Reynolds is a young woman with a most unusual and inconvenient problem: no matter how hard she tries, she can’t stop her emotions from escaping her body and entering the world around her. Luckily she’s developed a nifty way to trap and store her powerful emotions in personal objects - but how many shoeboxes can a girl fill before she feels crushed by her past?
Three events force Rebecca to change her ways: the unannounced departure of her husband, Stewart; the sudden death of Lisa, her musician sister; and, while on her way to Lisa’s funeral, a near-crash with what appears to be a giant frogwoman recklessly speeding in a Honda Civic.
Meanwhile, Lisa’s inconsolable husband skips the funeral and flies to Winnipeg where he begins a bizarre journey that strips him of everything before he can begin to see a way through his grief… all with the help of a woman who calls herself God.
What the hell, right?
This is a book about what we think about before we die: who has a score to settle, who needs to say farewell, who needs forgiveness, who needs forgetfulness. In the case of The Waterproof Bible the characters are all tied in some way to the death of Lisa.
Lisa’s husband Lewis needs to deal with his grief through flight. Flight in a twofold way in that he chooses flight vs. fight and flight as in he jumps on an airplane to get far away. Far away from himself, I believe.
Lisa’s sister Rebecca has so much emotion that she doesn’t know what to do with it. She’s a woman with a lot of baggage. As she physically and metaphorically lets go, she’s able to come to terms with herself.
Lisa’s brother-in-law Stewart is estranged from Rebecca and is living somewhere in the middle of the Prairies, where he’s building a boat. Landlocked and oh so misguided, or so it seems.
Margaret and Aby are two Aquatics whose lives intersect with the other three. Aquatics are those who are meant to live underwater, according to the laws of the Aquatic Bible. But Margaret has chosen another path, much to the chagrin of her daughter Aby who, in making her way to her mother’s home on the Prairies, has a run-in (in the literal sense) with Rebecca and Lewis. Oh and Margaret runs the hotel where Stewart works and is building the boat.
I know it’s all bizarre, but truly, this is my favourite book of 2010.
Kaufman writes literary fantasy the way that Gabriel Garcia Marquez writes magical realism. Where indeed is the line? The Waterproof Bible is a crazy, magical story of love—the beginning, middle and end—and life—the beginning, middle and end. I loved it.
Andrew Kaufman’s writing is completely sensible, even with the greenskined Aquatics floating around on the Prairies. Andrew, thank you so very much for giving us a second book that rivals the first. It’s lovely and brilliant.
I hardly even re-read books, but this one is back in the nightstand pile.
Author Kate Inglis is one of those people who you meet and never want to leave. I’d move in next door if she didn’t live on the opposite coast. But aside from being lovely, she’s a great author.
Her first book, The Dread Crew is an imaginative tale of filth, friendships and backwoods pirates. It’s the story of a boy, a crew of dirty, warty, natty, rude, pugnacious, revolting, disgusting pirates who show up demanding things from the villagers that they hoard.
The Dread Crew is one of those tales that starts in the woods when a mother is walking with her restless tot, home is still a ways away, and there’s nothing fueling the walk expect whatever story she can pull from the air. Anyone who’s a mom knows how this works, but few of those stories actually find their way to the published page.
As Kate says, “it occurred to me that writing something silly was highly speculative, a debatable spend of martial and mothering time. I shrugged. I kept it to myself because I thrive in the pressureless void of low expectations. I hadd 15,000 words before telling my husband—with my mouth full, behind my hand—that I was writing a novel. A three-year spell of insomnia was my groundswell. Getting published was an accident.”
Listen to my audio preview of the book: (MP3 6 MB should play with Google Reader)
1. Ossuaries by Dionne Brand (poetry)
“Dionne Brand’s mesmerizing new collection of poems is about human zoos; bones, culture, the fabric of our times.”
Brand is awesome, I’m sure to love this one.
2. Book of Mercy by Leonard Cohen (poetry)
“Leonard Cohen’s classic book of contemporary psalms is repackaged. As lovely as the first publication 25 years ago.”
It’s a beautiful package.
3. Tea Time for the Traditionally Built: Book 10 by Alexander Mccall Smith
“The 10th Precious Ramotswe novel is as adorable as the first.”
Precious is precious. I love this series.
4. The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters
“Longlisted for the Man Booker Prize, this bestselling tale of a family haunted by the past - and perhaps more - has received ecstatic reviews around the world: Waters is exceptional!”
I really, really liked Fingersmith and have been meaning to read more Sarah Waters. This is it!
5. Slow Death by Rubber Duck: How the Toxic Chemistry of Everyday Life Affects Our Health by Rick Smith
“How the toxic soup of our lives is killing us.”
Do I need a book to tell me this? No, but it would be interesting to know how to better navigate the world.
6. Grow Great Grub: Organic Food from Small Spaces by Gayla Trail
“Good food grown in small spaces.”
I have herbs on the balcony and am ready for more.
7. Ordinary Thunderstorms by William Boyd
“A heart-in-mouth conspiracy novel about the fragility of social identity, the corruption at the heart of big busunderbelly of the everyday city.”
A dark, twisted book with quirks that are sure to be my style.
8. The Waterproof Bible by Andrew Kaufman
“Kaufman can’t be missed.” All My Friends Are Superheroes is a brilliant book. I must read this one.
9. Angelology by Danielle Trussoni
“Angels are big this year. A book to watch.”
Monique’s prediction: angels, oil an religion. We’ll be as fascinated by these things in 2010 as we were by vampires in 2009.
10. The Weed That Strings the Hangman’s Bag: A novel by Alan Bradley
“Flavia is back.”
For Sweetness at the bottom of the pie, this young detective is by to thrill me with her fascination of poisons.
11. Dahanu Road: A novel by Anosh Irani
“Anosh is dark humored but one of my favs.”
Gawd, I love him.
12. Beatrice and Virgil by Yann Martel
“Taxidermy!” Life of Pi guy gets every stranger with taxidermy in this novel. Yes, please.
13. Switch: How to Change Things When Change Is Hard by Chip Heath
“Nobody likes change but a wet baby—and even then.”
From Made to Stick comes Switch. I won’t switch. I’ll stick.
14. I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced by Nujood Ali
“The internationally bestselling true story of the remarkable ten-year-old Yemeni girl who dared to defy her country’s most archaic traditions byfighting for a divorce.”
This story just seems unbelievable!
15. Boom! by Mark Haddon (young adult)
“I’ll have whatever Mark’s having. Love his work.”
Positioned for young adults, I think this will be a killer hit with adults too.
When Langdon Cook’s book came across my desk, I immediately wondered why James and I hadn’t written this book. But now that Langdon beat us to it, I’m happy to simply tell you that Fat of the Land: Adventures of a 21st Century Forager is a fascinating look at how foraging for your food can be shocking to your friends but also deeply satisfying.
Langdon Cook was a senior book editor at Amazon.com until 2004 when he fled corporate life and shacked up in a little cabin in the woods. Fat of the Land is about how he lived off the grid and foraged for food.
Free-diving in icy Puget Sound in hopes of spearing a snaggletooth lingcod.
Picking mushrooms.
Fly-fishing for sea-run trout.
Collect stinging nettles.
The prose is a mix of literary humour and travel writing. The chapters are divided up by the seasons and each features some type of foraging for wild edibles and ends with a recipe. The first chapter I read was on crab catching.
James and I regularly go crab catching. And by crab catching, I do not mean with a trap, I mean with a wet suit and cooler. James is the catcher and I’m the keeper. He swims out and dives down for the crabs. When he has more than he can hold in his hands, we meet in the shallow water. I wade out with the cooler, he puts the crabs in, and I snuggle them in ice and then wait for the next two.
In BC, you can keep 4 crabs per license and they have to be 6.5 inches across the carapace (don’t quote me on that, get the ruler) and male.
Various friends have come with us to participate in the catching. They enjoy the eating and, if they are fast learners and get the hang of spotting the crabs in the sand, then they also enjoy the catching. It’s tricky. I can spot the crabs but I can’t hold my breath or dive down in a controlled way. I float like a cork.
After we have our limit, there are two options. Cook them on the beach. Or take them home and cook them on the stove. Either is acceptable.
