janeajones wants to read more jewels in 2012

1. Elizabeth Taylor, At Mrs. Lippincote's, novel: 1/2
2. Xiaolu Guo, A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers, novel:
3. Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, novel:
4. Maria Galina, Iramifications, trans. Amanda Love Darragh, novel: 1/2
5. Margaret Frazer, The Clerk's Tale, novel -mystery:
6. Jenny Erpenbeck, Visitation, trans. Susan Bernofsky, novel:
7. Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus, novel:
8. Arthur Hugh Clough, Amours de Voyage, narrative poem:
9. Tomas Eloy Martin, Purgatory, trans. Frank Wynne, novel, LTER: 1/2
10. Julia Fox, Sister Queens, biography:
11. Barry Unsworth, Morality Play, novel:
12. Angelica Gorodischer, Kalpa Imperial, trans. Ursula LeGuin, novel:
13. Sawako Ariyoshi, Kabuki Dancer, trans. James R. Barndon, fictionalized biography:
14. A.S. Byatt, Ragnarok: The End of the Gods, retold myth:
15. William Shakespeare, "Venus and Adonis," Narrative Poems, retold myth, narrative poem:
16. William Shakespeare, "Lucrece," Narrative Poems, narrative poem:
17. Taylor Holden, The Sense of Paper, novel:
18. Valerie Martin, Property, historical novel: 1/2
19. Richard Blanco, Looking for the Gulf Motel, poetry collection: 1/2
20. A.S. Byatt, Still Life, novel, 1/2
21. Bernice L. McFadden, Gathering of Waters, novel, LTER
22. Marie-Claire Blais, St. Lawrence Blues, trans. Ralph Manheim, novel 1/2
23. Susanna Daniel, Stiltsville, novel 1/2
24. Jean-Francois Beauchemin, Turkana Boy, trans. Jessica Moore, poetic narrative, LTER: 1/2
25. Dalia Sofer, The Septembers of Shiraz, novel: 1/2
26. Dionne Brand, Ossuaries, narrative poem:
27. Lauren Groff, The Monsters of Templeton, novel:
28. Gail Jones, Dreams of Speaking, novel:
29. Zoe Ferraris, Finding Nouf, mystery:
30. Christine Schutt, Florida, novel:
31. Don DeLillo, Falling Man, novel:
32. Zoe Ferraris, City of Veils, mystery: 1/2
33. Sabina Berman, Me, Who Dove into the Heart of the World, trans. Lisa Dillman, LTER, novel: 1/2
34. Maha Gargash, The Sand Fish: A Novel from Dubai, novel: 1/2
35. Hisham Matar, In the Country of Men, novel:
36. Jane Gardam, Crusoe's Daughter, novel: 1/2
37. Nicola Barker, Wide Open: 1/2
38. "The Tale of Sinuhe," trans. Richard B. Parkinson, autobiographical tale:
39. Sima Qian, excerpts from Historical Records, trans. Stephen Owen and Burton Watson, historical biographies:
40. Euripides, Medea, trans. Diane Arnson Svarlien, tragedy:
41. Aristophanes, Lysistrata, trans. Sarah Ruden, Old Comedy:
42. Eduardo Halfon, The Polish Boxer, trans. David Hahn, et.al., novella: 1/2
43. Zoe Ferraris, Kingdom of Strangers, mystery:
44. Molly Keane Full House, fiction:
45. Bjorn Kurten, Dance of the Tiger: A Novel of the Ice Age, historical fiction:

Hi Jane. Just dropping by to wish you a happy new year!

1. At Mrs. Lippincote's by Elizabeth Taylor

It's the centenary year of the British novelist Elizabeth Taylor, and the Virago group is reading one of her books a month. At Mrs. Lippincote's, 1945, is Taylor's first published novel. It relates the sojourn of a junior officer's family posted to the suburbs after the Blitz has begun in London. Roddy busies himself with meetings and officer gatherings; his wife Julia flirts with the Wing Commander and Mr. Taylor, a displaced London restaurateur cum waiter; their 7-year old frail son Oliver reads British classic novels; and Roddy's cousin Eleanor, a teacher, is drawn into a communist circle. While the book is a brilliant novel of manners, I had rather mixed feelings I'm afraid. Taylor writes incredible descriptions and wonderfully precocious children. It's a really naturalistic, "slice-of-life" novel that see-saws from the humorous to the cynical. I can't say I liked any of the characters, except the children. They all seem incredibly narcissistic and pretty shallow. Probably quite true to life -- but finally I just didn't care about them, and nothing much happens besides the death of poor Mr. Taylor (odd that she would give him her own name) and the revelation of Roddy's infidelity. I've read a couple of later Taylor novels that have a bit more substance, but her gift is in capturing life in a moment of time.

Thanks -- happy new year to you too!

2. A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers by Xiaolu Guo

I thoroughly enjoyed this sojourn of a young Chinese woman who travels to London to learn English and while there, falls in love with an older man. Zhuang's story is related in a journal, organized less by dates, than by vocabulary words - words through which she learns not only English, but the strange ways of a different culture, philosophical differences, and the wayward meanderings of the heart.

Nice review of At Mrs Lippincote's, Jane. BTW, New York Review Books will reissue two of Elizabeth Taylor's books this year, Angel and A Game of Hide and Seek.

I also enjoyed A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers.

The first book by Elizabeth Taylor I read was Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont. I thought it was a fabulous character study of the loneliness of aging. I've been slowly working my way through some of her other books, but haven't gotten to At Mrs. Lippincote's yet.

3. Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs

I read this book because I saw an article in the local paper about the author visiting a Sarasota school from which he had graduated -- as it happened he had graduated from the school the same year my son did, and they had been classmates though not close friends. I was intrigued.

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children is a YA gothic fantasy novel that begins in Englewood, Florida, where Jacob Portman's grandfather Abraham is killed by what the police determine must be a wild animal. But sixteen-year old Jacob was present at the attack and remembers seeing something else that he cannot describe. He hears his grandfather's dying words: "Go the island, Yacob. Here it is not safe.... Find the bird. In the loop. On the other side of the old man's grave. September third, 1940."

Thus begins Jacob's quest for the Welsh island where his orphaned grandfather was raised before WWII. It takes most of the rest of the novel for Jacob to decipher his grandfather's cryptic message and discover the mystery of the "peculiar children." While some of the plotting is predictable and some of writing reflects the efforts of a first novel, an intriguing and original aspect of the book is the incorporation of vintage "found" photos of both "freaks" and ordinary people to illustrate the book.

One of the last books I read in 2011 was In Red by Magdalena Tulli for review in Belletrista. The review is here: http://www.belletrista.com/2012/Issue15/reviews_5.php

I really enjoyed In Red too and, like you, felt I probably needed to read it again to really get the most out of it. I found it equally mesmerizing; I almost missed my subway stop two days in a row when I was reading it.

Excellent review of In Red, Jane. I need to move that a bit higher on my TBR list.

stopping by to read your reviews. Excellent review of In Red

10, 11, 12> In Red was one of my last year's faves -- definitely thought-provoking.

Hi. I had never heard of Elizabeth Taylor, or never been able to distinguish Taylor as a British novelist, from Taylor the American actress. Last Thursday was my first book shopping spree, and I saw they had (only) one book by Elizabeth Taylor, Angel. So, remembering your review, I bought it. Had it only been for the cover, I probably wouldn't. I think the old virago covers are much nicer.

Oh they are -- I have no idea what this cover actually has to do with the book -- well, maybe it relates to the subject of Angel's novels. Hope you find it interesting, Edwin.

Finally catching up here, Jane. Loved you review of In Red, which seems like a book to get lost in. Haven't read Elizabeth Taylor, so very interested in your review and the other comments here. I own a copy of A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers, which I still imagine I'll pick up one of these days.

Will try to keep up from now on...

Thanks for stopping by, Dan -- I haven't had much reading time of late (other than student papers). I'm about half-way through Iramifications by Maria Galina which I'm reading for another Belletrista review. Hope to finish this week.

Some of you might be interested in World Book Night -- a chance to give away free books on Shakespeare's birthday: www.worldbooknight.org

Reading has been superseded this week by grandmotherhood: Caden Derek Cruff, born Feb. 16, 2012, 7 lbs. 12 oz.

What a cutie!

So sweet! Congratulations!

Congratulations, Jane!

Congrats!

Yes indeed! Congrats!

Sorry to butt in with book talk at this tender moment, but if I don't do it now, I'll forget. I just noticed mention above of Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont. I saw and absolutely loved the film with Joan Plowright but did not realize it was based on an Elizabeth Taylor story. Now I seriously do have to look into Taylor.

Congrats!

Oh, he is cute, congratulations!

Thanks all for the congratulations -- I am revelling in grandmotherhood.

Thanks all for the congratulations -- I am revelling in grandmotherhood.

4. Iramifications by Maria Galina
This is an odd adventure story which I am reviewing for Belletrista, so the review will be forthcoming.

5. The Clerk's Tale by Margaret Frazer

I found The Clerk's Tale to be a rather run-of-the-mill medieval mystery set in 15th c. England. A despised crowner/escheator is found murdered in the garden of a convent. By chance, Dame Frevisse, a Benedictine nun, has come to the convent with her superior to visit a dying relative. Drawn into the intrigue of solving the murder, Dame Frevisse is also drawn into a family legal dispute over an inheritance. The book is perfectly suitable to pass time, but I found nothing particularly illuminating or amusing in the writing.

Congratulations on beautiful Caden! I became a grandmother 17 months ago, so I know where you're coming from. You think you love your kids--and then you have grandkids! Does he live near you? Mine is here now, but moving in June. I am so dreading that.

I loved both the book and movie of Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont (I discovered the movie first, which led me to the book).

aruba -- I'm only just discovering the joys of grandkids -- it's been a long wait. I can see you're as gaga as I am from the pictures on your profile page. Luckily, they're close -- about 45 minutes away. Hope yours is not moving too far away. At least it's a good excuse for travelling!

I've not seen or read Mrs. Palfrey. I got a copy of Palladian for the February read, but life got too busy ;-)

6. Visitation by Jenny Erpenbeck

Visitation is a beautifully written, highly evocative history of a lakefront cottage outside of Berlin and its various inhabitants throughout the 20th Century. I'm sure I would have been more transported by the novel had I not previously read Olga Tokarczuk, Magdalena Tulli, and Tea Obreht whose books cover much of the same history and territory, but with the spice of magical realism that Erpenbeck's book lacks. Erpenbeck is particularly wonderful at evoking magical summer childhoods which counter later horrific events. Like Tokarczuk, Tulli and Obreht, there is finally in Erpenbeck's writing, a deep recognition that life itself goes on, although individual lives may be destroyed. The rhythm continues.

This is the second review i have come across this week of Visitation (see zenomax 's thread). It is beginning to sound like a book I want to read.

It's a gorgeous book, bas -- not very long. I definitely recommend. Zenomax's review does far more justice to the book than does mine.

Just stoppin' by. Congrats again on the grandchild! Babies are so beautiful.

Thanks, Lois.

7. The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

This was a pure pleasure read. Part fairy-tale, part fin-de-siecle nostalgia, with a dollop of reflection on the nature and ramifications of illusion. The magic of circuses -- the skill of the performers, the closed society, the allure of thrilling danger -- has its own element of courtliness and Romance that Morgenstern exploits extremely well. And her language can be mesmerizing. The Night Circus is not the best novel about circuses I have read -- Angela Carter's Nights at the Circus carries more complexity -- but it's a dazzling debut. I look forward to her next book.

Secrets have power.... And that power diminishes when they are shared, so they are best kept and kept well. Sharing secrets, real secrets, important ones, with even one other person, will change them. Writing them down is worse, because who can tell how many eyes might see them inscribed on paper, no matter how careful you might be with it. So it's really best to keep your secrets when you have them, for their own good, as well yours.

Just downloaded my copy of The Night Circus onto my Kindle and look forward to reading it. Intriguing quote!

The Night Circus has come up a lot here lately, and I think all positive. Making another mental note about it.

It's quite a delightful read -- not perfect, but a wonderful, somewhat thoughtful escape.

Nice review of The Night Circus, Jane. I'll definitely read it if it makes the Orange Prize shortlist next month.

8. Amours De Voyage by Arthur Hugh Clough

In 1849 Arthur Hugh Clough, an English poet, was in Rome during the Risorgimento when French forces came to the aid of the papacy against the revolution led by Garibaldi. While somewhat confined to his hotel, he wrote the Amours De Voyage. This epistolary poetic story chronicles the abortive wooing of a wealthy English merchant's daughter, Georgina Trevellyn, by a dithering aristocratic dilettante named Claude, whose letters to his friend Eustace, narrate his attraction and distraction. Clough satirizes the English abroad while glancingly sympathetic to the Italian revolutionary forces. An interesting peek into Victorians abroad, but nothing of great weight here.

"Talk of eternal ties and marriages made in heaven."

"But for his funeral train which the bridegroom sees in the distance,
Would he so joyfully, think you, fall in with the marriage procession?
But for that final discharge, would he dare to enlist in that service?
But for that certain release, ever sign to that perilous contract?
But for that exit secure, ever bend to that treacherous doorway? --
Ah but the bride, meantime, -- do you think that she sees it as he does?
But for the steady fore-sense of a freer and larger existence,
Think you that man could consent to be circumscribed here into action?
But for assurance within a limitless ocean divine, o'er
Whose great tranquil depths unconscious the wind-tost surface
Breaks into ripples of trouble that come and change and endure not, --
But that in this, of a truth, we have our being, and know it,
Think you we men could submit to live and move as we do here?
Ah, but the women, -- God bless them! they don't think at all about it."

Claude has such a lovely sensibility....

Very nice! I immediately downloaded Amours De Voyage from the Gutenberg project.

Amours de Voyage sounds charming. You probably already know this, but Clough is probably best known for revising Dryden's translation of Plutarch's Lives, and if I'm not mistaken, this is still the version that is being published. Both my Great Books and Modern Library versions use his translation.

45> I didn't know about Clough's translation -- must explore further.

Amours de Voyage not a hidden jewel then Jane.

9. Purgatory by Tomas Eloy Martinez, LTER

Tomas Eloy Martinez's last novel,Purgatory, is wildly evocative and dreamlike. The story of Emilia Dupuy, an Argentinian exile living in New Jersey, working as a cartographer for Hammond, is told in narrative viewpoints shifting from 3rd person omniscient to the voice of a 1st person observer -- the narrative "author," also an Argentinian exile. The book opens when Emilia sees her husband Simon, one of the "disappeared," missing for 30 years, in a local restaurant having an animated conversation with two Scandinavians. Finally she propels herself to his booth and asks, "Querido, querido mio, where have you been?" He smiles and replies, "We need to talk, don't we? Let's get out of here." And they leave the restaurant together, or do they?

In an interview with Guardian reviewer, Alberto Manguel, Martinez had said that he was trying to write a novel about the 1976-82 Argentinian dictatorship, but without descriptions of atrocities and torture -- rather an evocation of the stifling atmosphere of the time -- what it was like "to breathe in the contaminated air." Emilia lives in that Purgatory, not only during the dictatorship, but for the next 30 years as she searches for her husband, not truly knowing whether he is alive or dead, what is true or false, what is real or unreal.

'But at least I could make sure that Simon could see me, draw him to me, position myself with the same orbit. Maps,' she said. 'If I can put myself on the same map as him, sooner or later we're bound to meet. When I say it out loud, it sounds silly, but to me it seems self-evident. If time is the fourth dimension, who knows how many things exist that we cannot see in space-time, how many invisible realities. Maps are almost infinite, and at the same time, they're unfinished.... In order to see Simon, I needed to drop -- or rise above -- a map, if possible every map.'

Here's the review for Maria Galina's Iramifications (#4, message 29)

As I began to read Iramifications, I couldn't help but think of the old Bob Hope and Bing Crosby "Road" movies in which two rather hapless adventurers find themselves in strange and exotic lands competing for the love of a voluptuous woman amidst outrageous circumstances....more at Belletrista: http://www.belletrista.com/2012/Issue16/reviews_3.php

10. Sister Queens: The Noble, Tragic lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile by Julia Fox

Intrigued by cariola's review of Sister Queens, I ordered a copy of Julia Fox's dual biography. While a biography obviously meant for a popular audience, the facts are carefully documented (not with footnotes, but with 27 pages of detailed chapter notes and an extensive bibliography), and the author is careful not to sensationalize the material.

I was interested in the biography, because until now, I had never really gotten the Spanish royal family of the 15th and 16th centuries straightened out as to who was who and how they were related. Like most English lit types., I had figured out all the intricacies of British Tudor relationships, but how did those Spaniards fit in?

Now I get it -- so in that respect, the book was a truly successful read. I learned that Henry VIII was not the only multi-married sovereign. Phillip II of Spain had four wives (including Mary Queen of England) and Manuel I of Portugal married not only the two elder sisters of Katherine and Juana, but also Juana's eldest daughter (so much for consanguinity). Thankfully, Fox supplies a family tree at the beginning that helps to supplement the telling of the lives of the sisters, Juana and Katherine, the youngest of the five children of Ferdinand and Isabella.

I also appreciated the insights into the marriage of Katherine and Henry VIII -- their early successful partnership, their grief over the infant death of their son Henry and subsequent miscarriages, Henry's infatuations with pretty young things and his desperate ambitions for a male heir. Understandably, the major focus of the Tudor era has been on Elizabeth and her mother, Anne Boleyn. There is far more material on Katherine in the book than on her sister Juana because there are far many more sources available about Katherine than Juana.

Like her sister, Juana was married young to cement alliances and increase Spanish influence in Europe. She bore six healthy children to Phillip of Burgundy, who was destined to become the Holy Roman Emperor. When her three elder siblings died, leaving no heirs, Juana became heir to the thrones of Aragon and Castile. When Isabella died, Juana became queen of Castile -- to her great misfortune. The rest of her life is circumscribed by her husband's, her father's and her son's determination to not only rule Spain, but also Juana. To that end, they exploited her reputation for emotional outbursts by declaring her unfit to rule, indeed mad, and sequestered her away for the rest of her long life.

Fox loves details about the pageantry of ceremonies -- what the participants wore, the expensive masques and gifts, and who was in attendance. She clearly tags the major players on the scene -- Ferdinand, Wolsey, Charles II of Spain, but she doesn't provide much deep insight into the politics or even the characters of the participants. And she's not the most elegant prose stylist. With these caveats, I certainly recommend the book to those who want a somewhat different view into the world of 16th c. Europe.

Excellent review of Sister Queens: The Noble, Tragic lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile. Like you Jane I have this on my to buy list after reading Cariola's review.

Your knowledgeable thoughts have convinced me that I want to read this book, but it will be after I have ploughed through The Earlier Tudors in the Oxford History of England series.

Sister Queens is already on my February wish list on the basis of Cariola's review. I'll add your name. Very interesting review, Jane.

Thanks, bas and poquette -- it's a relatively quick read.

11. Morality Play by Barry Unsworth

Poquette -- I picked this one up on the basis of your review.

When the lead player of a troupe of wandering actors suggests to his company a new way to make some money, they are astonished. A young boy has just been murdered, and the weaver's daughter has been accused of the crime.

"Play the murder?" he said. On his face was an expression of bewilderment. "What do you mean? Do you mean the murder of the boy? Who plays things that are done in this world?" ....

"The woman who did it is still living," Margaret said. "If she is still living, she is in the part herself, it is hers, no one else can have it." ....

"...in this one there is no common acceptance, God has not given us this story to use, He has not revealed to us the meaning of it. So it has no meaning, it is only a death. Players are like other men, they must use God's meanings, they cannot make meanings of their own, that is heresy, it is the source of all our woes, it is the reason our first parents were cast out."

But already, looking around at their faces, I knew that my argument would fail. They were in some fear perhaps, but it was not fear of offending God, it was fear of the freedom Martin was holding out, the license to play anything in the world. Such license brings power... Yes, he offered us the world, he played Lucifer to us there in the cramped space of the barn. But the closer prize he did not need to offer, it was already there in all our minds: the people would flock to see their murder played. And they would pay."

And the troupe of players becomes a troupe of crime investigators as well as the local news. Unsworth has put his readers into a time of flux during the 14th century. The absolute power of both the church and the nobility tower over the common people. Everyone is intimate with death made even more present with the scourge of the plague. But cracks are beginning to appear with decay and corruption.

No longer protecting the people, the nobles play at arms in tournaments. Monks wander the countryside acting as agents for those who will pay them and prey on the gullible rather than following the rules of prayer and labor set down by St. Benedict. And now players stray from the words crafted by the church to illustrate their teachings to the unlettered to create plays from the tales of their own lives. It is an adventure fraught with grave danger and magnificent potential.

Glad you read Morality Play, Jane! Your point about the "time of flux during the 14th century" is very apt in highlighting how many traditions were challenged in the wake of the plague and the social and spiritual disruptions it spawned.

Glad you liked this one Jane, I have ordered it and it is probably in the post as I am typing this.

Jane,

Interesting review of Iramifications. I've asked avaland to pick up a copy for me - you made at least one sale!

dukedom -- thanks! I hope you enjoy it.

Catching up again, several interesting reviews. Loved your review of Iramifications.

Just popping by. Looks like you've read some really interesting books. I've got to say, too, from a judging books purely by their covers perspective, you've got some great ones.

59 -- thanks, Dan.

60 --Thanks for stopping by, ljbwell. Hadn't thought much about the covers, but some of them ARE intriguing.

12. Kalpa Imperial by Angelica Gorodischer

Kalpa Imperial is a collection of 12 stories about "the greatest empire that never was" as declared by the subtitle of the book. Angelica Gorodischer is highly respected in Argentina as the author of speculative fiction and mystery. This is her only book of 19, however, to be translated into English -- by Ursula K. LeGuin.

The storytellers (mostly anonymous voices) are the empire's historians, philosophers and teachers. "Kalpa" in Sanskrit translates as the era of time encompassing 4 billion years. The 12 stories in the collection encompass a vast era of time with changing dynasties and ruling families. The only historical analogues that suggest themselves are the vast stretches of dynastic rule in Egypt or China -- though Kalpa is an empire fabulated in Gorodischer's imagination.

The stories vary from allegory and fable to character study and parable, concerned with the play of power and the nature of societies. LeGuin's translation is lyrical, playful and sly -- undoubtedly a complement to Gorodischer's style,

Two of the stories are excerpted on the publisher's website: http://smallbeerpress.com/books/2003/08/15/kalpa-imperial/

These sound intriguing Jane, I will follow the link.

Well, Jane, I think you've sold me on Kalpa Imperial. I followed your link and read the interview and a page or two of the first chapter, and it sounds like this will fit nicely into my newly dubbed collection of "quirky dreamy novellas." Please correct me if I am wrong. One way or the other, this is going onto the wish list.

Suzanne -- it's definitely quirky and dreamy, but more of a collection of stories than a novel or novella.

You might also want to look at Primeval and Other Times by Olga Tokarczuk: http://www.belletrista.com/2010/issue4/reviews_13.php

13. Kabuki Dancer: A Novel of the Woman Who Founded Kabuki by Sawako Ariyoshi, trans. James R. Brandon

Sawako Ariyoshi was a prolific Japanese novelist who died in 1984 at the age of 54. From what I can gather her other novels are concerned with contemporary life and social issues. Three others, The River Ki, The Doctor's Wife and The Twilight Years have been translated into English. This one, however, is quite different -- it is a historical novel about Izumo no Okuni , the woman who invented kabuki in 16th-century Japan. According to all I have read, little is really known about her life -- she was born around 1572, perhaps served as a miko at the Grand Shrine of Izumo, danced on stages on the riverbed of Kyoto and at the Kitano Shrine, gathered a troupe of dancers and musicians who performed dances and romantic skits, merging drama with music and dance, attracted large crowds, performed for nobles and samurai and stopped performing around 1610. Times and accounts of her death vary from 1613 to the 1640s.

More to come....

Like so many other historical/biographical novels, Kabuki Dancer fleshes out the story of Okuni with romantic entanglements. But Ariyoshi seems less interested in character development than in historical background, local color, and the evolution of early kabuki, thankfully.

I found I learned much about 16th century Japan --the turbulent rules of Toyotomi Hideyoshi and Tokugawa Ieyasu and their methods of unifying Japan. It's fascinating to compare what was happening in Spain and England, on the other side of the world, with Japanese history. Hideyoshi, after great military victories in the Japanese provinces, thought he could conquer Korea and China -- disastrously. While the Japanese initially embraced the "Southern Barbarian" fashions and the Kirishtani (Christians) -- Tokugawa recognized the divisive aspects of their influence and expelled them from Japan.

Amidst the political turmoil, Okuni, a young rural girl from Izumo, travels to Kyoto with a small group of folk dancers and decides not to return home. She is entranced with dancing and the adulation of the audience. Ariyoshi, a playwright and sometime member of a dance company, traces the gradual evolution of kabuki from devotional dance to theatrical performance involving song, dance, plot and spectacle.

Okuni was experimenting with performance art in Japan at the same time that Shakespeare was reinventing drama in England. There are no scripts of early kabuki -- the classic literature would have to wait until the 18th c. with Chikamatsu Monzaemon's plays for both bunraku and kabuki, but Ariyoshi suggests how the kabuki style gradually incorporated widely diverse elements.

While Kabuki Dancer, though very readable, is not a great piece of literature, it is a fascinating historical novel about a period not well known in Western culture.

Very interesting review of Kabuki Dancer and description of 16th century Japan, Jane. I'll add it to my wish list.

Ditto!

A fascinating era, interesting review.

>62 janeajones: Small Beer Press had been looking for a translator to translate more Gorodischer, and I think Amalia, one of our Belle reviewers, (also and academic and translator) was talking to them about it. So, perhaps there will be more in the future! Tim Jones reviewed this for one of Belle's past issues.

Ragnarok: The End of the Gods by A.S. Byatt

In her afterword to Ragnarok, Byatt says when she was asked to write a revisioned myth for the Canongate series, "I knew immediately which myth I want to write. It should be Ragnarok, the myth to end all myths, the myth in which all the gods were destroyed."

She uses the figure of a young girl, a "thin child" living during WW II to mediate the myth, which is less of a retelling than perhaps a refocusing. Byatt is most interested in the agents of the apocalypse -- Loki and his children by Angurboda, the old one: Fenrir, the wolf; Jormungander, the snake; and Hel, the goddess, who Thor sets to rule over Helheim, the land of those dead who did not die in battle. While the "thin child" finds an odd kind of comfort in her copy of Asgard and the Gods while her father has been lost in the skies over Africa and her mother has remained in London to aid the war effort, we know the war will not end in Ragnarok, at least not immediately. Byatt's forebodings are for us, who are despoiling the earth and creating our own destruction.

Loki "was amused and dangerous, neither good nor evil. Thor was the classroom bully raised to the scale of growling thunder and whipping rain, Odin was Power, was in power. Ungraspable Loki flamed amazement and pleased himself.... He was the god of endings. He provided resolutions to stories -- if he chose to.... But he was an outsider, with a need for the inordinate." He's clever and curious, he maps the land and the seas down to the minutest details, he is the Faustian agent of disorder.

But Jormungander, the Midgard Serpent, thrown into the sea as a tiny snake and grown to enormous proportion to girdle and enclose the sea, embodies Byatt's theme. The lithe amphibian creature who plays in the waves and detects the disguises of her prey prospers in the sea. Her ravenous appetite increases as she grows until: "Nothing saw her coming, for she was too vast for their senses to measure or expect. She was the size of a chain of firepeaks: her face was as large as a forest of kelp, and draped with things that clung to her fronds, skin, bones, shells, lost hooks and shreds of snapped lines. She was heavy, very heavy. She crawled across beds of coral, rosy, green and gold, crushing the creatures, leaving in her wake a surface blanched, chalky, ghostly."

At the end of tale, Byatt's "thin child." reunited with her parents continues to be haunted -- less by the spectre of war than by the ever-shrinking outdoor spaces of her childhood. She learns to within a domestic peacetime garden, but beyond the garden gate looms the unknown.

Ragnarok: The End of the Gods by A.S. Byatt

In her afterword to Ragnarok, Byatt says when she was asked to write a revisioned myth for the Canongate series, "I knew immediately which myth I want to write. It should be Ragnarok, the myth to end all myths, the myth in which all the gods were destroyed."

She uses the figure of a young girl, a "thin child" living during WW II to mediate the myth, which is less of a retelling than perhaps a refocusing. Byatt is most interested in the agents of the apocalypse -- Loki and his children by Angurboda, the old one: Fenrir, the wolf; Jormungander, the snake; and Hel, the goddess, who Thor sets to rule over Helheim, the land of those dead who did not die in battle. While the "thin child" finds an odd kind of comfort in her copy of Asgard and the Gods while her father has been lost in the skies over Africa and her mother has remained in London to aid the war effort, we know the war will not end in Ragnarok, at least not immediately. Byatt's forebodings are for us, who are despoiling the earth and creating our own destruction.

Loki "was amused and dangerous, neither good nor evil. Thor was the classroom bully raised to the scale of growling thunder and whipping rain, Odin was Power, was in power. Ungraspable Loki flamed amazement and pleased himself.... He was the god of endings. He provided resolutions to stories -- if he chose to.... But he was an outsider, with a need for the inordinate." He's clever and curious, he maps the land and the seas down to the minutest details, he is the Faustian agent of disorder.

But Jormungander, the Midgard Serpent, thrown into the sea as a tiny snake and grown to enormous proportion to girdle and enclose the sea, embodies Byatt's theme. The lithe amphibian creature plays in the waves and detects the disguises of her prey prospers in the sea, but her ravenous appetite increases as she grows until: "Nothing saw her coming, for she was too vast for their senses to measure or expect. She was the size of a chain of firepeaks: her face was as large as a forest of kelp, and draped with things that clung to her fronds, skin, bones, shells, lost hooks and shreds of snapped lines. She was heavy, very heavy. She crawled across beds of coral, rosy, green and gold, crushing the creatures, leaving in her wake a surface blanched, chalky, ghostly."

At the end of tale, Byatt's "thin child." reunited with her parents continues to be haunted -- less by the spectre of war than by the ever-shrinking outdoor spaces of her childhood. She learns to live within a domestic peacetime garden, but beyond the garden gate looms the unknown.

I would not have thought Ragnarok would interest me, but I just read the short story by Jorge Luis Borges called "Ragnarok" and I see now the implications of his story. I did not know that it was the myth to end all myths. Nice review, by the way.

Good review of Ragnarok: The End of the Gods jane.

Interesting, I'm now very curious about myth of Ragnarok.

I just read one of the Kalpa Imperial short stories, The End of a Dynasty or The Natural History of Ferrets. Just gorgeous. Thanks for linking to it.

I'm a bit behind here and finding so many interesting reviews, Jane. Kalpa Imperial looks particularly intriguing and having Ursula LeGuin as translator is a double recommendation, in my opinion.

Ragnarok (and in Byatt's hands) sounds very interesting.

Thanks all for stopping by -- my reading seems very slow right now -- but it's always a challenge to squeeze books in among all the papers to grade ;-)

The Narrative Poems by William Shakespeare
15. Venus and Adonis
16. Lucrece


VENUS AND ADONIS by Titian, c. 1555


THE RAPE OF LUCRETIA by Lucca Giordano, 1663

I'm not really sure why I haven't before read Shakespeare's early narrative poems, except that they were never assigned in a course that I took -- and I took many courses in Shakespeare in my academic career. It's too bad because both narratives are highly readable and relatively short -- each can be read in under an hour's time.

Each poem is about the play of sexual power and desire, and each ends in the death of the sexually desired object. Both poems, written in 1593 and 1594, probably during a period of plague in London when the playhouses were closed, were dedicated to Henry Wriothesley, the Earl of Southampton. Scholars speculate that the young Earl was sufficiently impressed and flattered enough to reward Shakespeare with enough funding to buy himself a share in the Lord Chamberlain's company where he would become the preeminent playwright.

Despite its tragic end, Venus and Adonis has humorous overtones as the voluptuous goddess tries to seduce the unwilling young hunter. Adonis wants nothing to do with Venus's desire -- he wants to go off and hunt boars with his buddies. One might detect a hint of bitterness on Shakespeare's part -- was the young Will, who at 18 was forced into a marriage with the older Anne Hathaway (in her late 20s) -- a counterpart to Adonis, who is plucked too young by the older Venus? Adonis complains when he is chided by Venus for his lack of ardor:

"I know not love," quoth he, "nor will not know it,
Unless it be a boar, and then I chase it.
'Tis much to borrow, and I will not owe it,
My love to love is love but to disgrace it:
For I have heard it is a life in death,
That laughs and weeps and all but with a breath.

"Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinished?
Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth?
If springing things be any joy diminished,
They wither in their prime, prove nothing worth.
The colt that's backed and burdened being young
Loseth his pride, and never waxeth strong."

Lucrece, later titled The Rape of Lucretia, recounts the ancient Roman tale that is a foundation story for the emergence of the Roman Republic. Collatinus, an officer in the army of the Tarquins, the last monarchy of Rome, boasts about the virtue and beauty of his wife, Lucrece -- inflaming the passion and desire of Sextus Tarquinius, the son of the king. Tarquinius, bent on fulfilling his desire, goes to visit Lucrece, and despite his better nature, decides to satisfies his lust -- threatening Lucrece with scandal. If she does not willingly submit to his advances, he will kill her and then a kill a groom, leaving the two in bed together. In the aftermath, Lucrece, overcome with grief and shame, decides that the only course is suicide -- but only after she has told her husband and father of her violation and demanded revenge for the wrong. As she names Tarquinius as her violator, she pulls out a dagger and kills herself. At this point the poem ends, but the audience knows, that the revenge of Lucrece results in the end of the Tarquin dynasty and the establishment of the Roman Republic.

What struck me most about this poem, and in retrospect about Venus and Adonis as well, is that the story is told by the characters -- in long soliloquies and dialogue. Shakespeare doesn't bother with exposition or long description -- unless the characters are speaking. Even here, in these narrative poems, he is the playwright -- creating speeches for his characters.

Lucrece also has pre-echoes of some of Shakespeare's plays to come -- it's an incipient revenge tragedy, like Hamlet; Lucrece tries to persuade Tarquin to desist by invoking the responsibility of kings, like the chronicle plays and King Lear; when she contemplates a painting of the siege of Troy, she fixates on the grieving figure of Hecuba -- as Hamlet does with the players,and then moves on to Priam's dotage -- "Priam, why art thou old and yet not wise?" -- the very question that the fool asks King Lear.

All fans of Shakespeare should read these two poems for their insights into the man and the playwright.

Enjoyed your reviews very much of the Shakespeare. I too have somehow missed the pleasure of these two poems despite courses etc. These are going on my hope to read list. Thanks!

A couple of years ago the Royal Shakespeare Company decided to perform everything Shakespeare had written. Venus and Adonis was performed at a tiny puppet theatre, with an actor reading the poem while puppets acted the parts. They definitely played up the humorous aspects of the poem - I loved it.

83> oh how fun! I definitely think the English-speaking world needs more puppet theaters.

Great review of The Narrative Poems, which I have not read but will do so next year when I aim to read the complete works. Interesting point about the speakers in the poems and how they sound like characters in a play.

Nice pictures

Just want to chime in with praise for your review of Shakespeare. I've read snatches of these poems, but not their entirety. I assume they didn't include 'A Lover's Complaint' because of the debate around its authorship.

Coincidentally, I got an e-mail from the Royal Shakespeare Company yesterday; they're promoting a new website called myShakespeare for their World Shakespeare Festival. It looks like it could have potential, though there isn't that much going on yet.

Thanks for the link, dmsteyn -- looks like an interesting site.

Suzanne and Barry -- they're well worth the brief amount of time it takes to read them.

>73 janeajones:

A fascinating quotation and an interesting juxtaposition of "the thin child" and the titanic depiction of over-consumption.

While reading Ragnarok: The End of the Gods, I was too much overwhelmed by the baroque verbosity to spot that sentence, while I was too irritated by the "anonymity" of the "thin child" as a main character, failing to see it as an everyman.

Excellent to spot that!

It's the first day of vacation with no papers to grade and what am I doing -- reviewing the new Norton Anthology of World Literature Third Edition for a course in the fall.


Am I obsessed or can I just not believe it's summer yet? The 3-volume set (actually it's a 6 volume set, but I'm only using the first 3 for the fall) is a revisioning and a revamping with much new material to read -- so I think I'll post over the summer the new works included and some of the new translations of works I've read before.

So far I've just dipped in the Preface, the Table of Contents and some of the introductions to the new area groupings of Volume A -- the Ancient World. The introductions in this volume give a brief, clear overview of the historical circumstances of the Mediterranean world, the Indian subcontinent, and China from the earliest civilizations to about the first century c.e. -- obviously this is not very detailed, but the broad strokes are there for undergrad lit students who have few if any encounters with world history. The writing is lucid and clear, and I learned a few new things and put some events into better historical context -- so far so good.

I've been a fan of Norton anthologies since MY undergrad days, and they helped to get me through the the broad sweeps of grad school. I've used the English Lit and World Lit anthologies for my entire teaching career -- through various editions. Norton doesn't put out new editions every year or two, and their texts are reasonably priced -- especially when compared to other college texts. So, now I'm faced with the challenge of revamping my world lit course -- onward and inward....

Sounds like some work for you, but it will be fun to follow along through your comments here.

Looking forward to your thoughts on the Norton Anthology Jane. I am a great fan of the Norton Anthologies, so much important literature all in one place, nice thin pages; it can't be beat.

Thanks for dropping by Dan and Barry -- I plan on dipping in and out of the Norton over the summer.

17. The Sense of Paper: A Novel of Obsessions by Taylor Holden

The Sense of Paper is a curious book -- it is a novel of obsessions -- and of secrets -- historic, artistic, sensual, and post-traumatic. While toying with the idea of writing a book about Turner, Charlie Hudson, an erstwhile war reporter, has a chance meeting with Sir Alan Matheson, a highly regarded painter and expert on Turner. As Charlie becomes immersed in the worlds of Turner and of Matheson, the reader is treated to a fascinating history of papermaking and the importance of paper to the watercolor genius of Turner. But the book is an odd mixture of good psychological novel writing, murder mystery investigation and romance that verges on chick-lit. I found the plot and the art history intriguing enough to keep reading, even though my toes sometime curled with the descriptions of clothes and hair-dos. I think Holden needs an editor who will let her serious writer emerge.

That's a gentle and very witty criticism. I hope her serious writer does emerge.

As a dabbler in watercolor and a lover of watercolor painting in general and Turner in particular and beautiful handmade papers, I was really getting interested in The Sense of Paper until I hit the word "chick-lit." Oh dear. What to do. I'm off to Amazon to investigate further . . . ;-)

ETA — I'm adding it to the wish list just in case

Suzanne -- I think it depends on your mood and the moment you read it -- the Turner and paper history are really interesting, and the mystery keeps on until the end, but....

The sense of paper, sounds intriguing. A light read perhaps.

95 - My thoughts exactly. I've also added it to the wishlist for further investigation.

Property by Valerie Martin

This is a brilliantly written book revealing the corrosive effects of human ownership of other humans -- in slavery, in marriage, in families. Much has been written about this Orange Prize winner, so I'm not going to rehash the plot. Martin's skill lies in creating a narrator whom the reader at once despises and feels sympathy for. I couldn't put it down until I had finished it.

The first sentence of your review had me intrigued, Jane. Property is going on the wishlist.

19. Looking for the Gulf Motel by Richard Blanco

This is a highly personal collection of poems that range from nostalgic looks at childhood scenes and relatives, to the struggles of an outsider adolescent wrestling with his cultural and sexual identity, to an awareness of impending age and the death of loved ones. Blanco, born in Spain, but raised in NYC and Miami in a Cuban refugee family, felt displaced as a child both in the Cuban-centric, Spanish-speaking community and in the American world he landed in. Complicating his displacement problems was the growing awareness of his homosexuality in a highly macho atmosphere.

The images and the emotions are strong in this very approachable collection.

from the title poem of the collection:

There should be nothing here I don't remember

My brother and I should still be playing Parcheesi,
my father should still be alive, slow dancing
with my mother on the sliding glass balcony
of the The Gulf Motel. No music, only the waves
keeping time, a song only their minds hear
ten-thousand nights back to their life in Cuba.
My mother's face should still be resting against
his bare chest like the moon resting on the sea,
the stars should still be turning around them.

>99 janeajones: I also thought it a fine example of historical fiction where the characters' thinking in indicative of the time (as opposed to characters with contemporary sensibilities placed in historical settings).

Nice extract from the Blanco poem

#101 - Can I request more reviews of books like these? I'm kidding, of course, but also taking notes. The author sounds quite interesting.

20. Still Life by A.S. Byatt

Still Life is the second novel in the quartet about Frederica Potter, now studying literature and young men at Cambridge. Reading the novel is like eating dense dark chocolate -- it needs to be savored a bit at a time. Still Life leisurely rambles through a three-year period from 1953-56 contemplating the various lives of Frederica, her siblings Stephanie and Marcus, and the playwright Alexander Wedderburn, all of whom also figured largely in the first novel, The Virgin in the Garden.

There is little plot, but life moments are examined in minute detail against the backdrop of Van Gogh's letters (Alexander is writing a play about him), heady intellectual conversations, and voluminous literary allusions. Byatt obviously designed the book to have the quality of a still life painting, meant to be contemplated and studied. And hidden among the subjects is the memento mori -- embodied by a cataclysmic accident at the end of the book.

It took me a chapter or two to get into the book -- its pace is so different from The Virgin in the Garden which hurls headlong through one hectic summer -- but I found it genuinely rewarding.

>101 janeajones: hey, Jane, you ought to cross post this review over on the poetry thread! (just a suggestion).

Thanks for the review of Still Life. I recently read The Virgin in the Garden which I both liked and didn't like - still not sure! I'm planning to read Possession for my next book by Byatt, but I may return to the Frederica Potter series, so it's good to know what to expect.

Good review of Still Life Jane. I like A S Byatt and I will get round to that quartet one day.

21. Gathering of Waters by Bernice L. McFadden, LTER

McFadden's novel takes it title from "many gathering of waters," the translation for the Choctaw word Mississippi. The tale of Gathering of Waters is narrated by the town of Money, Mississippi, most noted for the slaying of Emmett Till in 1955. While Emmett is at the center of the novel, the novel sweeps through the entire 20th century with the history of the Hilson family who settled in Money after the race riots in Tulsa in 1921.

While I loved the first two-thirds of this novel leading up to the climactic death of Emmett Till, the last third seemed to dwindle away in a somewhat cliched denouement.

Reminds me of a song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ywc3YFeMiYE

"takes it title from "many gathering of waters," the translation for the Choctaw word Mississippi"

Great trivia.

His mother was the heroine -- she refused to let the casket be closed and insisted that the world see what had happened to her son: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2oTG8IH7IE&feature=related

When you know what it means "Mississippi" is transformed into a beautiful word.

Finally getting back into a kind of routine after our son's wedding in DC and meandering home by zigzagging through Virginia and North Carolina, making our last stop at the Spoleto Festival in Charleston. On the way we encountered two stellar state art museums (both with free admission): the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts in Richmond: http://www.vmfa.state.va.us and the North Carolina Museum of Art outside Raleigh: http://ncartmuseum.org/ -- both had fabulous permanent collections, stunning architecture and interesting featured exhibitions (which were not free).

We also made author visits to the Edgar Allan Poe Museum in Richmond which had a spooky exhibit of James Carling's illustrations for "The Raven," the O'Henry exhibit at the Greensboro Museum of History, and to Thomas Wolfe's mother's boarding house, Old Kentucky Home, in Asheville.
We took the time to drive 100 miles along the Blue Ridge Parkway in NC with its fabulous scenery.

At the Spoleto Festival we saw two performances: a dramatic performance piece The Animals and the Children Took to the Streets by the British theatre company 1927 -- wildly inventive and satiric, and the Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet. Both were wonderfully skillful, but rather bleak in their messages: http://spoletousa.org/events/cedar-lake-contemporary-ballet/.

Pictures of our meanderings, if anyone's interested: http://pix.kg/p/682024811508%3A1693702777/sct

Sounds like fun!

Nice photo's jane, looks like the weather improved.

Interesting programme at the vmfa

I'm jealous of your drive along the Blue Ridge Parkway.

St. Lawrence Blues by Marie-Claire Blais, trans. Ralph Manheim

Originally published as Un Joualonais, Sa Joualonie, Blais's novel is set in a 1970s Montreal mostly covered in snow and drenched with alcohol, sex, poverty and revolutionary protest. Joual is the dialect and culture of the Montreal working class (probably roughly equivalent to Cockney in London or BBQ in NYC) and has been central to the Quebec sovereignty movement. St Lawrence Blues is a raucous tour through the East-End of Montreal narrated in an almost stream-of-consciousness fashion by the young Abraham Lemieux, aka Ti-Pit.

Ti-Pit was abandoned as an infant, brought up in an orphanage run by Catholic sisters, put out to work on a farm at a young age, jailed for stealing the farmer's car, and has just quit his job at a rubber company. He lives in a boarding house along with a drag-queen stripper, two lesbian-hookers, and his ex-girlfriend who refuses to leave his bed. His mentors are a renegade priest and the self-proclaimed Joual poet-laureate, and he is haunted by an old psychopathic compatriot, Ti-Guy. This picaresque novel best succeeds as a detailed and satirical glimpse into a very particular time and place. I also found it as a very interesting contrast to the novels of Margaret Atwood being written at about the same time.

That sounds like just the ticket for finally facing French-Canadian lit! And maybe it'll help me finally map the sounds to the words if I see them in print...

Great review Jane.

Lola, I would say jump right in. Another way to map the sounds to the words is to get a movie from Quebec and read the subtitles. They are not always entirely correct, but it's not a bad way to start. The Decline of the American Empire and its sequels is fairly straight forward and then something like Jesus of Montreal would move you into more of a joual.

I'm afraid my forays in French Canadian lit are strictly in translation, but there a few Joual dictionary sites on the web (I had to google Joual to even find out what it was):

http://www.joualvert.com/html/canadian_french.html

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=joual

BBQ?????

Brooklyn, Bronx and Queens -- it was a widespread expression in the 70s when I lived in NYC -- no longer current??

Never heard it, and I was definitely here in the 70s. We called them Bridge and Tunnel. But now Brooklyn is hip, and even parts of Queens.

SassyLassy, oddly enough that was an easy listen (and a much better movie than the one star!); it was some Quebecois sitcom that convinced me they spoke a whole separate language, plus a few random eavesdrops in the street.

Jane, thanks, it's the pronunciation that's the main problem, lots of un-French-like sibilants, and a zetta that's thicker than the Venetian!

23. Stiltsville by Susanna Daniel

I'm a sucker for books set in Florida -- there is always the lure of "Florida weird" hanging about them. But Stiltsville is Florida-normal (if there is such a thing). Frances Ellerby, the narrator, tells the story of her romance with Dennis DuVal and their 25 years of marriage. They met at the Stiltsville (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stiltsville) house built by Dennis's grandfather and continued to spend getaway weekends there for the next 20-odd years. Daniel wonderfully evokes the scenery and nature of Biscayne Bay, but doesn't tell much of a story. Although the book takes place from 1970-95 when Miami was undergoing massive changes, those changes are merely background history -- they hardly touch the middle class life of the Duvals in Coral Gables. I got the feeling that Daniel was writing about what she knows in this, her first novel, but I'm not quite sure what the point of all of it was. It was a pleasant summer read, but not much else.

I remember Stiltsville - my father was fascinated because it was always doomed by the next hurricane. IIRC, Andrew took it out. Interesting setting, not surprised it would disregard anything in Miami...we all did in the suburbs when I was growing up...unless it pertained to football.

24. Turkana Boy by Jean-Francois Beauchemin, trans. by Jessica Moore

I found this book alternately beautiful and frustrating. It is the only book by the respected Quebecois author that has been translated into English, and I have no doubt that one reason for the lack of translation is the hybrid nature of Beauchemin's poetic-prose narrative, which is highly lyrical, philosophical and verges on the surreal. I'm sure the original French carries a somewhat different nuance than does the English translation -- which is not to take away at all from Moore's poetic rendering.

The work is divided into 3 sections: "The Escaped Island," set in the city, with 32 chapters; "Night Worn Thin Against Their Hides," set in the countryside, with 32 chapters; and "A Seahorse Ballet," set by the sea, with 29 chapters. No chapter is longer than 2 pages, most consist of simply one paragraph: each chapter is essentially a prose poem -- a meditation upon some aspect of nature from the point of view of the only real character in the work: Monsieur Bartolome, introduced at the beginning of the book:

"He took notes. All his life, Monsieur Bartolome had done nothing but take notes. He gave titles to downpours, produced chapters in which ordinary things occurred; in his stories, he always wrote birds onto the first page. Sometimes he made books of these stories, in which people said they recognized the glimmerings of childhood. But this was too easy to say -- he was not interested in childhood -- it had taken years for his own to hush a little, and anyway he preferred the bitter beauty of things."

The book follows Monsieur Bartolome from his early 30s until his death in his late 70s. At the beginning of the book, he has a young son who loves the large elm tree in front of their home, until it has to be cut down because of disease. When the boy is 12, in chapter 14 of the first section, he disappears -- a disappearance that remained a mystery and the most internal truth of Monsieur Bartolome's existence.

And perhaps here is the crux of my frustration with the work -- we learn very little of the boy -- not his name, nothing about his mother (she is never mentioned), not how he interacted with his father -- only that he loved the elm as a brother and was a silent child, as his father had been before him. Nor do we learn much about Monsieur Bartolome's life beyond his meditiations on nature, the essence of life, and omnipresence of death. This is book without people, and despite the declared preference for "the bitter beauty of things" -- the book is more about words, words used to observe and ponder and retreat inside oneself.

"The world was inexplicable, and yet, on certain days, Monsieur Bartolome understood many things. Few mysteries could not be unravelled through his science; worlds were caught in his eyes, and he christened these worlds with names. He drank from the rains as though from drainpipes, taught them which passages to follow, prepared riverbeds that he had swindled from rowboats to receive their runoff. The rivers, too, were tributaries of his veins, and the beats of his heart were a series of islands as are beans in a pod. And few mysteries could not be unravelled through his science, because he translated the precise dedication of the sun with ease. The world was inexplicable, but something of it carved out a path in Monsieur Bartolome."

For all the frustration, that's a beautiful review.

Those frustrating but otherwise beautiful or interesting books make me want to tear my hair out sometimes!

Thanks, Dan.

Rebecca -- that's exactly the way I felt at points in the book!

25. The Septembers of Shiraz

While at times I found The Septembers of Shiraz a compelling read, ultimately I didn't find it very satisfying. Maybe I've read too many books about political oppression and torture all around the world in the last few years.

Sofer's story of the tribulations of Iranian-Jewish Amin family suffers, I think, from a third person omniscient viewpoint spread too thinly among the four members of Amin family: readers are not only privy to the thoughts and experiences of Isaac, a gem dealer arrested by the Revolutionary Guards, but also to his wife, Farnaz; his son Parviz, who has been sent to university in New York; and to his young daughter, Shirin. I generally appreciate multiple viewpoints in a novel, but here the shifting viewpoints seem to give the readers diluted characters and lessening tension.

#133 too bad, it's a topic I'm interested in.

Thanks for the review jane. I think I will pass on this one too

It is too bad -- it could have given a much more intimate look into a corner of Iranian society to which we have not been introduced.

26. Ossuaries by Dionne Brand

review coming soon.

Winner of the 2011 Griffin Prize for Poetry
Dionne Brand reads "Ossuary VIII": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVsNnrEJxB0

Ossuaries is a dense poetic narrative about Yasmine, an underground fugitive, who lives on the edges of "momentous times...full of prisons." She opens her tale on 9/11 -- unshocked by the horror that is merely the culmination of horror that has seemingly followed her throughout her adult life. The narrative voice shifts back and forth from 1st to 3rd person as in each of the 15 Ossuaries composed of triplets, Brand reveals the skeletal remains of a life lost in the dark areas of late 20th century North America. Her evocative and densely imagistic poetry alludes variously to jazz and leftist philosophers to the World War II series of paintings by Jacob Lawrence (http://whitney.org/Collection/JacobLawrence)

this genealogy she's made by hand, this good silk lace,
Engels plaited to Bird, Claudia Jones edgestitched
to Monk, Rosa Luxemburg braids Coltrane

as far as she's concerned these names reshaped time
itself though time seems somehow set itself,
in time

in so few rooms that Yasmine herself is caught
and trapped in its coarse drenched net,
a blue crab angling and articulating

sideways, these names would help
here, but
such, such did not create the world or fix time

in that bulbous concentration,
of what matters,
what appears

Yasmine knows in her hardest heart,
that truth is worked and organized by some,
and she's on the wrong side always

This is a poem that warrants rereading and rereading, and I'm sure I shall return to it often.

The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff

As a summer read, I found Groff's first novel highly satisfying. It has a likeable protagonist, secrets are uncovered, and it's set in a small town in central NYS, an area with which I am quite familiar. Wilhelmina Sunshine Upton returns to her home of Templeton (based on the actual Cooperstown -- home of the baseball hall of fame) on the verge of disgrace. When her affair with her thesis advisor on an archeological expedition to Alaska was uncovered by his wife, Willie tried to run her down with a bush plane. After driving home cross-country, she arrives in Templeton at the moment the dead body of the famous monster emerges from the depths of Lake Glimmerglass. She discovers that her hippie mother, Vivienne, has found Jesus -- and the pastor of the local Baptist church. What follows is a trip into the history of Willie's ancestors who founded the town and who often prove to be the "monsters" of Templeton. Great fun.

Monsters of Templeton place sounds fun. I had no idea that's what it was about. I think I have a copy in my TBR (I've had free copies and then given them away at least one other time--not sure if I gave my second copy away. But now I know to hang on to it).

You read a very interesting array of books.

Love the poem jane

Jacob Lawrence is a name that doesn't seem to come up much. I've adored his paintings ever since the Houston Museum of Fine Arts held a show on him some ten years ago or so. Ossuaries sounds worth spending some time with. The Monsters of Templeton sounds crazy.

Lawrence is wonderful. The Ringling Museum here recently had an exhibit of his work and the the Phillips Collection in DC has his Migration Series: http://www.phillipscollection.org/migration_series/index.cfm. One of my humanities students did a report on his Harriet Tubman series in class this Spring semester.

I was so glad to see your positive review of Ossuaries, Jane, as it is one I have on my wishlist and am looking forward to acquiring. I also have The Monsters of Templeton and should follow your lead with it being a "summer read", especially since I enjoyed seeing Lauren Groff speak last year and the book's setting is familiar to me also.

Linda -- I think you'll enjoy Groff's book -- it's fun and it's always great to read a book by someone you've heard.

We went to a fabulous exhibit of Japanese Art Deco at the Ringling Museum yesterday -- much of it centered on the modaan garu or moga -- the modern girl of the 1920's and 1930's. Great wood prints, kimonos, sculpture, and decorative items: http://ringling.org/Exhibitions2.aspx?id=10098

#143 love the picture, love the link...

28. Dreams of Speaking by Gail Jones

This is the first novel I've read by Gail Jones, but it certainly won't be the last. She writes beautifully.

Briefly, Alice Black has just returned to her home in Australia after spending time on a grant in Paris where she was writing and researching a book on the poetics of modern technology. While on a train, she meets Mr. Sakamoto, a survivor of Nagasaki, who is writing a biography of Alexander Graham Bell. The novel is the story of their friendship, their shared interest in technology, and about Alice's inner explorations of her life and her family.

Jones manages to capture the immediacy of experience in telling specificity:

"Alice was flying to Europe, following darkness around the planet in her north-westerly projection. She would have a doubled night -- the nothing space of jet flight was freighted with black magic, so that passengers bore stoically their extended nocturne, relinquishing the ordinariness of time, relinquishing good meals and intelligent conversation, for this wearisome, dull, zombie imprisoning.... The lights switched off and passengers seemed instantly to sleep. They had become sluggish, bored. Now they met the extra night with eyes closed, their heads thrown back, their mouths slackly agape like codfish....It was as if the plane was governed by alien air or some creaturely intention. A posthumous blue washed over bodies, faces....She retreated quietly, wondering about the automation of planes, how they stayed up, anyway, what antigravitational devices kept them there, defying all instinct, hurtling like a thrown thing through distorted ever-darkness."

I'll be doing something like that soon - flying through time zones. Also, reading this book...soon, I hope.

Dan -- I was so struck with her description of an overnight flight that I just had to include it here. I just love "this wearisome, dull, zombie imprisoning" -- it so captures those looong flights.

imprisoning indeed.

Finding Nouf by Zoe Ferraris

Mysteries generally appeal to me because of their locales and cultures. Finding Nouf, set in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, opens up a world with which I have practically no familiarity and which I shall probably never visit. Zoe Ferraris is an American, but according to the book cover, she was married to a Saudi and moved to Saudi Arabia to become a part of an extended Saudi-Bedouin-Palestinian family (she now lives in the US).

The plot involves the disappearance of Nouf Shrawi, the sixteen year old daughter of a wealthy family -- with a truck and a camel. A desert guide, the pious Nayir ash-Shariq, is hired to find out what happened to her. When she is found drowned in the desert, the body is turned over to the coroner, and a lab assistant in the women's division, Katya Hijazi, discovers information crucial to Nayir's investigation.

Ferraris guides us through the labyrinths of modern Saudi life -- bounded and veiled in tradition and religion -- and the elaborate gender struggles it entails. Her descriptions of the desert, the dusty streets of Jeddah clogged with traffic, and the enclosed quarters of the Shawri women are highly evocative. This is the first in a series, and I've already ordered the second.

30. Florida by Christine Schutt

Despite, the title, this book is not about Florida -- but the idea and allure of Florida permeate this coming-of-age novel set in the Midwest. Schutt creates an almost-stream-of-consciousness, almost poetic voice for Alice Fivey, who goes to live with her Uncle Billy and Aunt Frances after her father is killed in a car accident and her glittery mother breaks down and ends up institutionalized. The fragmented style of the narration fits the fragmented life of Alice as she realizes she must create her own life and her own narration.

One winter afternoon --an entire winter-- it was my father who was taking us. Father and Mother and I, we were going to Florida -- who knew for how long? I listened in at the breakfast table whenever I heard talk of sunshine. I asked questions about our living there that made them smile. We ate sectioned fruit capped with bleedy maraschinos -- my favorite!....In the Florida we were headed for the afternoon was swizzled drinks and cherries to eat, stem and all: "Here's to you, here's to me, here's to our new home!" One winter afternoon in our favorite restaurant, there was Florida in our future while I was licking sugar, waiting for what was promised: the maraschino cherry, ever-sweet every time.

Although Alice gets far more salt and snow than sweet sunshine, she eventually finds her own path for her life. And Schutt has written an elegant kunstlerroman.

Florida sounds good jane.

Falling Man by Don DeLillo

As I was reading this book (slowly), I kept telling my husband -- this is a really smart, well written book. It's a book for and about grownups (mostly -- although there is a brilliant episode about children). It's about the tenuous quality of relationships. It's about the fragility of life -- not just individual life, but the life of society and cultures. It's understated, it's tender, it's brutal. It's about 9/11 and its aftermath -- specifically its affect on one family, but it's also about modern urban life, about America, and about the ways we find to cope. I thought it was brilliant.

Jane - glad you liked Falling Man too! Nice review.

Falling Man gets very mixed reviews, but I like your review jane.

Great review of Falling Man, Jane. I also loved this book and I think you've captured its essence beautifully.

Joyce, Barry and Linda -- I read the reviews on the book's main page and must admit I was baffled by many of them. The book does have a fragmentary quality about it, but I thought that just gave the reader reflecting space and permission to fill in the gaps. Actually that was true of Florida as well.

Great review of Falling Man, Jane. Yours is the only one I've read that has made me consider reading it.

Daryl -- I highly recommend it -- and it's not a long read. BTW -- love your new profile picture.

Thanks, Jane. It's from my Black Panther youth days in the late 1960s. ;-)

32. City of Veils by Zoe Ferraris

City of Veils is Ferraris's second mystery set in Jeddah, featuring the investigations of Katya Hijazi and Nayir ash-Shariq. The violent murder of a wealthy young Saudi woman who roams the city filming women and backgrounds for the local TV station and freelances as a photographer leads to a complicated investigation. Ferraris is most interested in exploring the complex gender relationships within a rule-bound Islamic society, and while her feminist bias is obvious, she also deals sensitively with genuinely devout and well-meaning traditionalists. The relationship between Katya and Nayir proceeds bumpily, as it probably will continue to do in the sequels.

A new angle touched upon in this book is the scholarly linguistic controversy about the Syro-Aramaic origins of the Qu'ran: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Syro-Aramaic_Reading_of_the_Koran -- something I had not previously encountered and will have to follow up on.

33. Me, Who Dove into the Heart of the World by Sabina Berman, trans. Lisa Dillman, LTER

I have to admit that I devoured this novel about an autistic "wild child" turned savant in one sitting. I had to keep turning the pages to find what was going to happen next, but finally I found the book a bit thin -- it left me wanting for more depth and detail.

What worked were the vivid descriptions of the sea and the world of tuna. Most of the characterizations were a bit thin, and the only real relationship that resonated was that between Karen and the older fisherman, Ricardo.

Berman's main thesis seems to be an argument between Descartes and Darwin -- between the thesis of "I think therefore I am" and the reality that existence precedes thought -- a concept that she expresses through her protagonist:

I found a page in an old tome written by a French philosopher: a sentence that expresses in word my distance from humans.

I think, therefore I am.

The sentence astonished Me, because it is obviously, incredible. All you need is 2 eyes in your head to see that everything that exists, exists first and then does other things.

But here's the most incredible thing about it: the philosopher isn't proposing that as a concept, he's simply articulating what humans believe about themselves. That they first think and therefore then they exist.

What follows on from that is even worse: that since humans live that way, thinking that they first think and then they exist, they also think that anything that doesn't think, also doesn't fully exist.

Trees, the sea, the fish in the sea, the sun, the moon, a hill or a whole mountain range. None of that exists all the way; it exists on a second plane of existence, a lesser existence. Therefore it deserves to be merchandise or food or background for humans and nothing more.

And what makes humans so sure that thinking is the most important activity in the universe? Who told them that thought is the 1 activity that distinguishes the superior from the inferior?

Ah, thought.

I, on the contrary, have never forgotten that first I existed and then, with a lot of difficulty, I learned to think.

Did Descartes say that existence arose from consciousness? I've always taken the cogito ergo sum to be a chain of evidence, not an ontological statement.

Robert

You make City of Veils sound very interesting, Jane. For me, the best mysteries are those that are set in other countries, revealing of other cultures, and both entertaining and educational. Sounds like this falls into that category.

>164 janeajones:: I can see why you found Me, Who Dove Into the Heart of the World a bit thin. I can't really disagree with that, but it worked quite well for me, anyway, which pleased me.

>165 Mr.Durick:: My own impression in the novel was the character had, in fact, not really understood Descartes' point for the "chain of evidence" argument it was -- and, as I recall, her teacher complained that she'd missed the point -- but that there were nevertheless some worthwhile insights behind her misunderstanding. If that makes any sense. It did occur to me to wonder whether the author actually misunderstood it in the same way, but I don't think it's really possible to tell.

Finally catching up here... Nice review of Florida, and you made me look up kunstlerroman. Your review of Falling Man is very encouraging. And fascinating about the Syro-Aramaic origins of the Qu'ran. I'll leave the Berman/Descartes to you, Robert and Bragan.

Jane - you disappeared! The start of the semester must have been real bad...

Life has intruded -- I have a couple of books to catch up on reviews with -- forthcoming soon I hope -- I'm still lurking, just not writing at the moment.

OK -- I'm going to try to catch up before Wallender comes on PBS.


34. The Sand Fish by Maha Gargash

Gargash's novel is set in 1950s Dubai -- when the pearl industry was still the main source of wealth, and oil had not yet been discovered within its borders. This is not the Dubai of the UAE, the Burj Khalifa or jet-setting tourism; its residents are Bedouins and merchants living very much within a highly traditional, near medieval, culture.

Noora, a 17-year old Bedouin girl, feels she is holding her family together after her mother's death and her father's descent into semi-madness. But her brother, eager to assure her welfare, promises her in marriage as a third wife to a wealthy pearl merchant. Noora is brought into the family essentially as a breeder -- to provide her elderly husband with the child he has never had. It soon becomes obvious that her husband is sterile. Her immediate rival is the young second wife, her husband's favorite, who has, unfortunately, not provided the heir. The first wife sees the naive young Bedouin as a way back into her husband's favors by creating the opportunity for an heir to be conceived. But Noora is clever and manages to carve out a secure position for herself.

An interesting look into yet another society is which women must try to assure their positions by subtlety and deceit.

Nice review of The Sand Fish, Jane.

Thanks, Darryl -- it was the only one I got to before Wallender and wine. I've got two more to go -- hopefully this evening.

The Sand Fish sounds interesting and I was wondering if it was a story of a vanished society.

Barry -- Well, I think it's vanished in Dubai -- though I wouldn't be surprised if it continues elsewhere in the Arabian peninsula.

35. In the Country of Men by Hisham Matar

I think In the Country of Men is one of the saddest books I have ever read.

I am recalling now that last summer before I was sent away. It was 1979, and the sun was everywhere. Tripoli lay brilliant and still beneath it.

Thus begins the memoir narration of Suleiman, who we later learn is a 24 year-old Libyan exile living in Egypt. But in 1979, he was 9 years old and was drawn in the political upheaval and repression that marked the early years of the Gaddafi regime. Suleiman's father, involved in an anti-Gaddafi movement, is rarely home, and his mother, resentful of her arranged marriage, drinks herself into stupors with liquor obtained from the local druggist.

The child is drawn into situations he doesn't understand and is the unwitting, yet not entirely ignorant, agent of terrible harm to those he loves. He is seduced by power and fear to betrayals he does not understand -- a child living in a country of men who do not care about the vulnerability of the sensitive.

Matar's book was a well-deserved finalist for the Booker Prize.

36. Crusoe's Daughter by Jane Gardam

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, and I really needed to get out of the Middle East, so I picked up Crusoe's Daughter -- it was the perfect antidote.

1n 1904, Polly Flint, a sea captain's daughter, is brought to live with her maiden aunts, in a big yellow house on the marshes in northern England near the sea and not far from the iron works. The house has a large library collected by her religious grandfather, and in it she finds Defoe's Robinson Crusoe. The book will remain the touchstone for her childhood, her adolescence and her long life (she spends years translating it into German and French). Along the way she encounters the realities of the class system, death, romance, decay, rejuvenation and the onrushing 20th century. It's not a great book, but it certainly kept me entertained while my husband went off to watch a football game with his colleagues -- and it diverted me from grading papers -- what more could I want?

Some interesting books. Fascinated by The Sand Fish. Crusoe's Daughter sounds fun. I've read In the Country of Men, and hope to one day read Matar's latest book (Anatomy of a Disappearance). The biographical elements were powerful...and yes, how sad.

Thank you Jane for the interesting reviews! I loved In the Country of Men and now have The Sand Fish on my wishlist. I find the culture of the Bedouins to be fascinating, but far too little has been written of them.

Dan and Linda -- The Sand Fish is certainly worth a read -- it's the first novel I've come across from from the UAE.

37. Wide Open by Nicola Barker

I loved this novel as I was reading it -- not so much when I finished. Barker is an extraordinary stylist and writes wonderfully quirky characters.
But the plot seems to fall apart -- partly drawn from TV psycho - crime dramas, it can't seem to transcend TV expectations. I think I'll try Barker again as her writing is so good, but I hope her plotting becomes better.

We're indulging ourselves in the Ringling International Arts Festival this weekend: http://www.ringlingartsfestival.org/2012/.
Yesterday evening we went to see the wonderful Mark Morris Dance Group. They did four pieces:

"Canonic 3/4 Studies" -- a delightful homage to and send-up of classical ballet with a few brief allusions to the subjects of Impressionist painting.

"A Wooden Tree" -- set to the quirky music and words by the Scottish folklorist, Ivor Cutler. One of ensemble's members was Mikhail Baryshnikov (the artistic director of RIAF), who totally blended in with the other dancers, though in the section titled "I'm Going in a Field" -- his lyricism and grace just shone through -- I couldn't keep my eyes off him.

"Silhouettes" -- a tease of a dance performed by two male dancers, one in pajama tops and one in pajama bottoms who challenged and reflected each other throughout the piece. It was set to silhouettes: Five Pieces for Piano by Richard Cumming

"Grand Duo" -- set to Lou Harrison's Grand Duo for Violin and Piano began with the lighting illusion of the dancers' holding balls of light in their upraised hands. The four movements of the dance open with a primal, mythic gathering of god-like figures and end in a frenzy of precision that brought to mind the continuous movement of energy particles -- I must admit I far preferred the opening of the piece to its closing.

The Morris dancers are athletic and varied -- they resemble ordinary people more than most ballet companies do. If they ever come your way, I highly recommend the company. 5 STARS.

Tonight we're off to see the Pig Iron Theatre Company's production of Zero Cost House.

Wonderful to have seen Mikhail Baryshnikov. Careful about referring to the group as "Morris Dancers", because in my experience Morris dancers are anything but atheletic and varied.

OK -- Morris Group dancers.

Well, we were supposed to see a play last night, but one of the performers was injured, and they cancelled the performance. They did, however, offer to exchange tickets for the Ensemble Basiani performance -- a men's choir from Georgia (Europe, not the US) -- they were polyphonously wonderful. Georgia has the oldest polyphonic tradition in the West, and they performed a wide variety of music both polyphonic and more traditional folk songs and sacred music. There are twelve members in the ensemble, and in the polyphonic music there seemed to be at least twelve different tones and ranges from the deepest basses to plaintive baritones and sweet tenors and at least two yodelers.

http://www.basiani.ge/en

youtube: http://www.basiani.ge/en

From the reviews in the paper of the Pig Iron theatre, we definitely got the best of the deal.

Some pictures from the local newspaper:

The last performance we saw at RIAF was the kuchipudi dancing of Shantala Shivalingappa. This classical Indian dance is discipline and worship and sheer grace. She danced for over an hour -- utterly mesmerizing.

http://www.shantalashivalingappa.com/shivag.html



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLy2gYwoQRA

42. The Polish Boxer by Eduardo Halfon

Eduardo Halfon narrates his own novel -- beware readers, it's always dangerous to identify the author with the narrator! The narrator is a literature professor in Guatemala, and the first page of his novel made me chuckle with recognition in his description of a class: " We read about the dual nature of the short story, and it didn't surprise me, as I looked out, to be met with a sea of faces covered in acne and heartfelt bewilderment....I heard the drone of tittering and whispering and gum chewing and then, as I did every year, I asked myself if this shit was really worth it."

But this novella is only tangentially about academia -- its about the nature of encounters and relationships and inner and outer explorations of identity. As Halfon's first novel, it's a kunstlerroman, and it's wildly entertaining and evocative. Halfon has an eclectic sensiblilty that leads us into exotic SA locations, the jazz of the fifties, literary conferences, the holocaust, and Eastern Europe.

I particularly liked the foray into the world of the gypsies when Halfon is determined to find Milan, a classical pianist, who decides to return to his gypsy roots.

Halfon is a fascinating new voice, and I'm delighted I received this book as an LTER.

This is the third very positive and thought-provoking review of The Polish Boxer in Club Read recently. Each review has been different. I'm Intrigued.

Nice review of The Polish Boxer, Jane. I'll probably get it next month. And thanks for the summaries of the RIAF events that you attended; I love hearing about fine arts events from others.

> 186

Thanks for sharing this, jane. It is indeed mesmerizing. I would love to watch this dance being performed.

Dan and Darryl -- I definitely recommend The Polish Boxer -- it's intriguing and a pretty fast read.

Darryl and deebee -- RIAF is always a delight, and we took enough time this year that I felt I was on a mini-vacation. Shantala was an incredible treat.

> 184

I saw the Basiani Ensemble when they performed in Lisbon in 2008, and really enjoyed it. I love their haunting melodies and the unexpected directions the voices take. Women's polyphonic singing, however, is a tradition not in Georgia but in Bulgaria and has gained international status even much earlier, their most prestigious choir (The Great Voices of Bulgaria Women's Choir) having already won a Grammy. Glad you discovered this music and liked it.

43. Kingdom of Strangers by Zoe Ferraris

Ferraris' 3rd novel in the Katya Hijaris series set in Jeddah opens with the discovery of mass grave with 19 women whose hands have been cut off. The title of the book refers to the immigrant workers, mostly from Southeast Asia, who do nearly all the manual labor and household work in the Saudi Republic -- work the Arabs scorn to do. The murdered women were all immigrants, and the investigation into the murders leads the reader into their shadow world.

I find this series well-written and fascinating in its descriptions of Saudi life and conservative Islamic customs. Once again Ferraris explores the fraught gender relationships, but in this book she points out how difficult the restrictions on women can make the lives of the men in their families: his more cynical friends had warned him about this, That getting married was conscripting yourself to servitude. You thought you were signing up for love and sex, but you were also signing up for giving rides, for waiting in the food courts of shopping malls, in the sitting rooms of doctors' offices, in the lines at restaurants where they were not allowed to sit. You were signing up to spend a majority of your income on feeding, housing, clothing, and pleasing the woman you married. In other countries, the financial burden could sometimes be shared. In other countries, women could drive themselves places. But here, you did everything for your wife.

What a strange culture.

what a disgusting culture

Both strange and disgusting, I'm afraid. Reading about Saudi is like travelling in a science fiction world -- actually it reminds me of Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale.

The Sarasota Ballet brought in the Paul Taylor Dance Company this weekend -- saw the performance last night. Although the reviewer preferred "The Uncommited," I thought it was a bit repititous (even tedious) at times. "Gossamer Gallants" was great fun, and "Cascades" was a brilliant take on Bach.
http://arts.heraldtribune.com/2012-10-27/featured/review-from-bugs-to-the-baroqu...

Agh -- haven't posted since October. What does this say about my reading?? -- lots of started books that are sitting with bookmarks in them. Keeping up with the reading for my classes -- especially the new stuff in the revised Norton Anthology of World Literature. Grading. Grandson. Holidays.

44. Full House by Molly Keane

First published in 1935, Full House presents a panorama of the fading Anglo-Irish aristocracy in which Molly Keane was raised. She published her novels under the pseudonym of M.J. Farrell to hide her authorial identity from that horsey/hunting set preoccupied with their "big houses" and keeping up appearances. Perfect stuff for the BBC and PBS (which I enjoy).

Eliza comes to visit the Birds (aptly named): Julian, with whom Eliza is half in love; Olivia, Lady Bird, beautiful, not too bright yet brilliant with her garden and decoration; and the children -- Markie, Sheena and John -- wildly attractive and awfully vulnerable. Eliza is the Heartbreak House to their Horseback Hall -- invited to ease John's comeback home after a nervous breakdown. Tangentially there are Miss Parker, the lonely governess and Nick o' the Rocks, a local fisherman.

On the surface, not much happens: a garden party, a late adolescent romance, frustrated desire, an affair, but Keane manages to interweave incredible descriptions of nature, multiple viewpoints, editorial intrusions, and a romantic melancholy into a journey into a bygone world.

Full House, Molly Keane sounds wonderful Jane.

Barry -- it was lovely holiday reading -- a bit strange, but engrossing.

Agree with Bas, sounds good. Another author I really hope to spend some time with eventually.

Last book of 2012:


45. Dance of the Tiger: A Novel of the Ice Age by Bjorn Kurten

Kurten, an eminent paleontologist, wrote this novel to present a model for the disappearance of Neandertal man. 35,000 years ago during the period when the Ice Sheet in Northern Europe retreated and Homo sapiens began to migrate into Europe, the two species co-existed on the European continent. The question is what sort of relationship did the two peoples have with each other?

Kurten's Neandertals are gender egalitarian, highly courteous, wonderful story-tellers, skilled with herbs and plants and awed by the god-like Homo sapiens who have a highly flexible language, technically advanced weapons and the near-magical ability to recreate the animal world in their brilliant drawings. The two communities have little contact with each other, and the Homo sapiens dismiss the Neandertals as sub-human "trolls."

When Tiger, the son of a Homo sapiens chieftain is left for dead after a battle, he is rescued by a Neandertal tribe and eventually discovers that the female leader's son is his half-brother.

Kurten skillfully and beautifully depicts the natural world of Scandinavia during this period and weaves a fascinating story of the contact of two very different cultures that nevertheless share a common humanity.

As the book was published in 1980, recent DNA discoveries about the inheritance of Neandertal genes in modern man, obviously do not play into Kurten's model. But coupled with good storytelling, Kurten's vast knowledge of the geography, the climate and the artifacts of the Paleolithic world make the novel a highly rewarding read.

These types of books tend to go wrong, but this one gets great reviews. Noting.