Hurry Down Sunshine, by Michael Greenberg

Sometimes, I stumble upon a book I pick up and go “Huh. I should read this.”

Which is what happened yesterday during a lunchtime jaunt to Target, where I came upon Hurry Down Sunshine, by Michael Greenberg.

For a whole bunch of reasons, mental illness is a fascinating topic for me, and Greenberg’s memoir is, frankly, startling.

In telling the tale of the mental meltdown of his fifteen year old daughter, Sally (who winds up with a diagnosis of “bi-polar 1″) Greenberg doesn’t mince words. He gets confused, scared, angry, and feels guilt just like any concerned parent would when their child is taken over by the thoughts in their head. Sally’s story is alternately riveting and terrifying, as she goes back and forth between moments of lucidity and moments of being a stranger to those closest to her.

It’s a fast read – Greenberg isn’t a writer who feels the need to use filler – and an eye-opening one. Much has been made of novels like Girl, Interrupted and The Bell Jar, told from the protagonist’s point of view, but less often is the parental point of view shared, and the results can be just as shattering.

ALSO -

Greenberg’ll be in Chicago tomorrow night (incidentally) to talk about his book. (Details.)

Franken-season!

“I am by birth a Genevese; and my family is one of the most distinguished of that republic.”

With these words Mary Shelley begins the Victor Frankenstein narrated portion of her masterwork. 

Frankenstein is a book I know I read as a child, forgot about, then met again as an English Lit major at Michigan State and was swept away by. It’s also one of the books I can’t wait to teach to my students once I complete this whole grad school thing.

To this date, it’s second only to Jane Eyre on my list of all-time favorite books.

I even like the movie version - I like to call it “Kenneth Branagh’s Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein,” (Though I do take issue with how much wet, shirtless Branagh the movie features. But who doesn’t?)

I like to revisit Frankenstein in October, when pumpkin season is in full swing and sweaters and winter coats begin appearing on people on the street. It’s a thoroughly gloomy and creepy book for a thoroughly gloomy and creepy season. 

As I’m seeing The Hypocrites production of Frankenstein tomorrow night at the Museum of Contemporary Art, I figured tonight would be a good night to pick up the book yet again.

Go forth, my hideous progeny.

Banned Books Week, or – how I got “The Witches” banned from my elementary school. :(

“The Witches,” by Roald Dahl, is an amazing book. It’s suspenseful and filled with great characters and, at points, flat-out scary. I’ve always been an advanced reader, and this was never more obvious than in elementary school, when my teachers had to find things for me to read that were at a 12th grade level, even in 3rd and 4th grades.

It was my 3rd grade year, and I’d exhausted Beverly Clearly, Little House on the Prairie, and the super-dated 1950’s Barbie novels, when my teacher (Mrs. Hall) assigned us a book report. I was delighted, as this was something I knew I could do well at, even at a young age.

So – I asked my teacher if I could do my report on the book I was currently reading and loving – “The Witches.” And she, being smart and knowing me, said yes. I did my report and got a good grade, and when I told her that the movie version had just come out on video (My Dad owning the one video store in Alpena at the time, I was aware of this.) she decided it would be a fun treat to show the movie in class.

She was thrilled.

I was thrilled.

Unfortunately, the movie upped the scare factor in several scenes, as you can see in the video below. (Go to the 3:20 mark and just watch to see the creepiest part of the movie.)

One student was so terrified he told his mom and his mom threw a fit and as such, “The Witches” was on Alpena’s banned book list for years. It might still be, I’m not sure.

I oppose banned books. There are books that are more suitable for one age or another. For example, I wouldn’t give an 8 year old Judy Blume’s “Forever.” )Trust me. I was 8 when I read it. Going to my Mom and asking what an orgasm was is still a priceless family moment) However, banning any book outright is censorship. Not to mention that the minds behind book banning are usually driven by religious fundamentalism, which is not the opinion of all. (Check the lists of most-banned books and see how often that devil-worshipping Harry Potter is banned.)

Read a banned book. You might be surprised what you find.

Out tomorrow – The Lost Symbol

Yes I did pre-order it.

Because, despite my inherent sometimes lit-snobbiness, I still have to give it up for any writer who can keep me glued to an adventure and breathless with anticipation as to what will happen on the next page, and Dan Brown has done that in all four books of his that I’ve read – The DaVinci Code, Angels & Demons, Digital Fortress, and Deception Point.

The Book comes out tomorrow – and though I’m sure the reviews will all trash it (The New York Times has already given it one of those ‘It could have been better but since you’re going to buy it anyway we don’t really care’ reviews.) and really, that’s fine.

Because Dan Brown’s books are perfect travel reads, and thats exactly where this one will get read. And, most  likely, enjoyed immensely.

(Also along for Texas reading will be Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver.)

Looking for a perfect Fall read?

In honor of fall, I’ve been reading HP Lovecraft for the first time, and I have to say I’m enjoying it immensely.

So, I thought I’d share.

Below are links to online texts of three of his (in my opinion) most awesome short stories.

The Case of Charles Dexter Ward

Pickman’s Model

The Cats of Ulthar

You know, in case you need a good read.

In the Woods, by Tana French

I’ll come right out with the honesty. I spent the first few pages of Tana French’s IN THE WOODS hoping against hope that the slightly overloaded prose wasn’t a tell-tale sign of a young writer trying to show off. I wondered if it would all be like this, or if there was a reason to continue. Prose-heavy detail-laden openings often do that to me, especially in reading someone’s acclaimed debut novel.

But, I plowed through and will remain ever-so-happy that I did.

IN THE WOODS is a hell of a read. It’s a detective story, a “Law and Order” episode packed neatly into a well-written, fast-paced web of a book.

In 1984, three young kids went out to play. Hours later, after their parents got worried and alerted police, one of them – Adam Ryan – was found cowering against a tree, his shoes full of blood, remembering nothing. The other two were never seen again.

Shoot to present times, and Detective Rob Ryan – yes, it’s Adam all grown up, still remembering nothing – is assigned to a murder case involving a young dancer, Katy Devlin, who was found on the site of an architectural site about to be demolished to make way for a roadway. There are a bajillion suspects, a million motives, and Detective Ryan (Assisted by his sassy partner Cassie Maddox) has to weave his way through all the lies and stories to get to the bottom of it. Did one of the archeologists do it? Did someone opposed to the motorway – which was being spearheaded by Katy’s father – do it? Did Katy’s father do it?

Along the way, it appears that the long-closed case of Ryan’s missing friends might also play a part in Katy Devlin’s murder, which opens wounds Ryan hasn’t delved into in years.

I won’t give anything away, but I’ll admit I thought I knew who did it at least twice before the actual answer was revealed. It’s a terribly exciting book, full of vivid characters and scenes. Tana French clearly knows the area and people she writes about, down to the kind of intense detail that nearly scared me away in the beginning. The relationship between Ryan and Maddox is also layered and fascinating, and provides the novel’s two most interesting characters.

If you like “Law and Order,” you’ll probably adore this book.

I do, and I did.

Fall/Winter Reading list

Maybe it’s just me, but the concept of a summer reading list usually falls by the roadside as I find myself too excited by and involved in other summertime activities.

Fall, meanwhile, has come to Chicago. 

The air has that obvious whiff of leaves to come and we’re all bundling up in sweaters again. Pumpkin Spice lattes are beginning to pop up in coffee places and back to school signs are everywhere.

It’s time for some reading.

THE DREAM CYCLE, short stories by H.P. Lovecraft (*at present*)

BARBIE AND RUTH, by Robin Gerber.

HOW TO READ LITERATURE LIKE A PROFESSOR, by Thomas Foster.

A GOOD MAN IS HARD TO FIND, by Flannery O’Connor.

EMMA, by Jane Austen.

ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, MIRACLE, by Barbara Kingsolver.

THE OMNIVORES DILEMMA, by Michael Pollan.

MIDDLEMARCH, by George Eliot.

GHOST WORLD, by Daniel Clowes.

THE POE SHADOW, by Matthew Pearl.

….and, at some point in October, FRANKENSTEIN will get hauled off the shelf as in every year.

Julie & Julia, by Julie Powell

I wanted “Julie and Julia” to be slightly better than it turned out to be. Which is not to say that it’s not an engrossing book written by a candid-voiced writer with plenty to say and a keen insight into her own quirks and qualms – because it absolutely is. I just.. wanted more?

“Julie and Julia” is the true story of Julie Powell, a New York office worker and wife who, bored by her life and desperate for something she can’t name, decides to cook her way through Julia Child’s famous and daunting cookbook, “Mastering the art of French Cooking.” She also starts a blog – The Julie/Julia Project, and over the course of a year finds confidence, has a few breakdowns, and yes, discovers herself. She also garners attention from The New York Times, The Christian Science Monitor, and CNN, among others (which led to the blog becoming this book in the first place.)

For those not watching TV these days, “Julie and Julia” has been made into a movie starring Amy Adams as Julie Powell and Meryl Steep as Julia Child, the woman, the cook, the legend. From what I’ve learned, the film is based off two books – “Julie and Julia,” as well as Child’s “My Life in France.” (Which is good, as otherwise Meryl would appear for all of twelve seconds in the movie, and thats just not enough Meryl. Ever.)

About the book: I was taken in by Powell’s eagerness to leap into a gargantuan task like tackling every recipe in a 520+ recipe cookbook of French cuisine.  There’s a chapter about her feelings of self-hatred and guilt over cooking live lobsters, and it took honesty to write the less-favorable aspects of herself so candidly. Powell is dramatic, headstrong, pushy, whiny, and leaves nothing out. The depiction of the unexpected toll the project has on her marriage is clearly spelled out, and could have been something easily brushed under a rug. But, as is her way, Julie Powell went balls to the wall and laid it all on the line. Her family’s reactions, her friends reactions, the reactions of her Republican co-workers… it’s all there.  

As a similarly employed office girl in a great and stable relationship who is ending her goal of a life in the theatre and learning to love food, I felt a bond with Powell.  I recognized a lot of myself in her. Maybe that’s why I hoped for more in the book.

It’s a clever, fast, read – Perfect for traveling. I wish I’d read it on a train.

(Your Mom would probably love it. I bet mine would.)

White Teeth, by Zadie Smith

With her 2000 debut novel, “White Teeth,” Zadie Smith won every award on the block, including The New York Times Book Review Editor’s Choice, The Guardian First Book Award, and the Whitbread First Novel Award. While I found her book to be an undeniably charming read, I wish I’d enjoyed it more.

 

It all begins with Archie Jones, a middle-aged London man who is on the verge of suicide as the book begins. Through the magic of fate as only a novel can present it, he winds up at a house where he falls in love with Clara Bowden, a 19 year old Jamaican girl. They are married within the first 40 pages of the book, and their life and family become the central focus of “White Teeth.”

 

At its heart, “White Teeth” is a story about race, told through endearing characters such as Samand Iqbal, a Bangladeshi waiter, and his family. Samand clings to the noble history of his great-grandfather, though said history is much debated. Samand’s strong-willed wife and two sons also play large roles in the book, particularly his eldest son Millat.  Millat’s vices and compulsions, not to mention his anger at his father, lead to the books dramatic (if hasty) conclusion.

 

Smith’s strongest achievement in the book is in the character of Irie, the teenage daughter of Archie and Clara. Irie is chubby, and black, in a society where the western ideal is pale white and super skinny, and she struggles to discover her own self-worth. A particularly wonderful scene occurs when Irie, sandwiched with her loud family on a city bus on the way to the books grand finale, finally explodes.  She goes off on a wonderful rant about normal familes vs. her own, and it’s a stitch.

 

Every family has it’s secrets and it’s problems, regardless of the color of your skin or your accent. (Smith works wonders with the phonetic spellings of much of the dialogue. From Jamaican to Cockney, you can hear every word vividly and it helps to lend the novel some authenticity.) With this as her central theory, Smith’s book is a clever commentary on race, but most importantly, on people, at the end of the millennium.

 

My main squabbles with the book are minimal.  Smith is undoubtedly a talented young writer, and there are unfortunately moments where it seems she’s aware of it and it seems a tad pretentious. In addition, the book seems to divert onto a lot of tangents that are never resolved, or are resolved disappointingly. A plot involving Samand and a schoolteacher having a seedy affair ends abruptly and is never mentioned again. There’s an influx of characters that makes it hard to recall people you’ve met before.

 

All that said, she has a gift for creating characters you care about, and I would most certainly read other works by her.

Books I never finished

I don’t believe in not finishing books, even if I despise them… I’ve carried around books I disliked for weeks until they were finished. Blame the OCD part of my brain, or whatever. It’s the way I am.

SO – In trying to think of books I never actually finished, only a few came to mind.

1. ANNA KARENINA – I just don’t think I was in the right place to be hauling around hundreds of pages of Tolstoy when I tried to read this book the first time. While I remember being interested by the book, I also remember being mad confused by everything going on and everyone having like fourteen names. (Some books are not meant to be read on the CTA. I think this is one of them.) I still own my gorgeous copy, though, and clearly someday I will be in the mood to tackle Tolstoy again. 

2. ATLAS SHRUGGED – I wanted so badly to “get” the whole Ayn Rand thing, but.. after a few hundred pages of Atlas Shrugged, I’m not sure I ever will. Maybe I’m missing something, but I was starting the third part of the book when I knew it was just time to put down the book and move on. (I’ve heard rumors of a movie version potentially starring Angelina Jolie. I’d see that. It’s not that I hated it. It’s that.. I didn’t understand why I should keep reading?)

3. ELDEST (aka, ERAGON 2) – So, coming down off the last Harry Potter book rush, I bought Eragon and read it. While I didn’t find it the greatest book ever, it was entertaining enough. So, when Eldest came out, I bought it… and was promptly bored to tears. I not only stopped reading it, I made a special trip to Brown Elephant to donate it and get rid of it. Terribile book.

*Special note. I read the first two books in the Twilight series in a state of “Well, something exciting has to happen soon.. right?” However, after two books that only mildly held my interest, I decided to jump ship on the Twilight series. No offense, rabid crazy Twilight groupies, but it’s not for me.

What books haven’t you finished?