The Sequel

 

The Sequel by Jean Hanff Korelitz

The Book Series #2

Mystery/Thriller

2024

Finished on February 7, 2025

Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

(Spoiler Alert - Don't read this publisher's blurb if you haven't read The Plot)

Anna Williams-Bonner has taken care of business. That is to say, she’s taken care of her husband, bestselling novelist Jacob Finch Bonner, and laid to rest those anonymous accusations of plagiarism that so tormented him. Now she is living the contented life of a literary widow, enjoying her husband’s royalty checks in perpetuity, but for the second time in her life, a work of fiction intercedes, and this time it’s her own debut novel, The Afterword. After all, how hard can it really be to write a universally lauded bestseller?

But when Anna publishes her book and indulges in her own literary acclaim, she begins to receive excerpts of a novel she never expected to see again, a novel that should no longer exist. Something has gone very wrong, and someone out there knows far too much: about her late brother, her late husband, and just possibly... Anna, herself. What does this person want and what are they prepared to do? She has come too far, and worked too hard, to lose what she values most: the sole and uncontested right to her own story. And she is, by any standard, a master storyteller.

With her signature wit and sardonic humor, Jean Hanff Korelitz gives readers an antihero to root for while illuminating and satirizing the world of publishing in this deliciously fun and suspenseful read.

I don't have any trips planned that involve flying, but if I did The Sequel would be the perfect book to read while confined inside an airplane. I was immediately drawn into this sequel to Jean Hanff Korelitz's previous book, The Plot, and the pages practically turned themselves. I only wish that I had read both books back-to-back. While Korelitz provides details to the backstory of her original work, I had to stop and think about that timeline and the details in that novel as I worked to untangle Anna's meticulously woven web of deceit and guile. Korelitz kept me guessing, taking me down multiple paths that I was certain would lead to the big reveal (I even grew suspicious of Anna's editor!). The ending is well-executed; no plot holes in this one! If pressed, I'd have to say that I enjoyed The Plot a tad bit more than The Sequel, but they are both very entertaining (and would make a great TV series).

Fun feature: Korelitz cleverly assigns the title of a real sequel to each chapter. 

The Sequel is most assuredly not a stand-alone. Highly recommend after you have read The Plot. 

How to Read a Book

 

How to Read a Book by Monica Wood

Fiction

2024

Finished on August 13, 2024

Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

A charming, deeply moving novel about second chances, unlikely friendships, and the life-changing power of sharing stories.

Our Reasons meet us in the morning and whisper to us at night. Mine is an innocent, unsuspecting, eternally sixty-one-year-old woman named Lorraine Daigle…

Violet Powell, a twenty-two-year-old from rural Abbott Falls, Maine, is being released from prison after serving twenty-two months for a drunk-driving crash that killed a local kindergarten teacher. Harriet Larson, a retired English teacher who runs the prison book club, is facing the unsettling prospect of an empty nest. Frank Daigle, a retired machinist, hasn’t yet come to grips with the complications of his marriage to the woman Violet killed.

When the three encounter each other one morning in a bookstore in Portland—Violet to buy the novel she was reading in the prison book club before her release, Harriet to choose the next title for the women who remain, and Frank to dispatch his duties as the store handyman—their lives begin to intersect in transformative ways.

How to Read a Book is an unsparingly honest and profoundly hopeful story about letting go of guilt, seizing second chances, and the power of books to change our lives. With the heart, wit, grace, and depth of understanding that has characterized her work, Monica Wood illuminates the decisions that define a life and the kindnesses that make life worth living.

How to Read a Book had all the ingredients of a saccharine, fluffy novel, but it turned out to be very enjoyable. While somewhat predictable, I came to care about the three main characters, and especially enjoyed Violet's interactions with the African grey parrots for which she became responsible in her new position as a research assistant at a local university. This feel-good story of second chances and new friendships (which brought to mind Elizabeth Berg's Night of Miracles, with its endearing characters) is a perfect summer read. I'm looking forward to reading Wood's previous novel, The One-in-a-Million Boy, which sounds equally delightful.

Book Lovers

Book Lovers by Emily Henry

Fiction

2022 Penguin Random House Audio

Narrated by Julia Whelan

Finished on October 12, 2022

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

One summer. Two rivals. A plot twist they didn't see coming....

Nora Stephens’ life is books—she’s read them all—and she is not that type of heroine. Not the plucky one, not the laidback dream girl, and especially not the sweetheart. In fact, the only people Nora is a heroine for are her clients, for whom she lands enormous deals as a cutthroat literary agent, and her beloved little sister Libby.

Which is why she agrees to go to Sunshine Falls, North Carolina for the month of August when Libby begs her for a sisters’ trip away—with visions of a small-town transformation for Nora, who she’s convinced needs to become the heroine in her own story. But instead of picnics in meadows, or run-ins with a handsome country doctor or bulging-forearmed bartender, Nora keeps bumping into Charlie Lastra, a bookish brooding editor from back in the city. It would be a meet-cute if not for the fact that they’ve met many times and it’s never been cute.

If Nora knows she’s not an ideal heroine, Charlie knows he’s nobody’s hero, but as they are thrown together again and again—in a series of coincidences no editor worth their salt would allow—what they discover might just unravel the carefully crafted stories they’ve written about themselves.

Book Lovers is a light read, and I found it easy to listen to the audio in fits & spurts, which was perfect since I didn't get many opportunities while on our road trip. As I listened, I could easily envision Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks starring in a rom-com version film of this book. Nora and Charlie's bantering is very similar to the characters in You've Got Mail and Sleepless in Seattle. I haven't read anything else by Emily Henry and I kind of doubt I will. While not a bad novel, it was a bit too light and fluffy. 

The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry

The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin

Fiction

2014 Algonquin Books

Finished on February 3, 2022

Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

On the faded Island Books sign hanging over the porch of the Victorian cottage is the motto “No Man Is an Island; Every Book Is a World.” A. J. Fikry, the irascible owner, is about to discover just what that truly means.

A. J. Fikry’s life is not at all what he expected it to be. His wife has died, his bookstore is experiencing the worst sales in its history, and now his prized possession, a rare collection of Poe poems, has been stolen. Slowly but surely, he is isolating himself from all the people of Alice Island—from Lambiase, the well-intentioned police officer who’s always felt kindly toward Fikry; from Ismay, his sister-in-law who is hell-bent on saving him from his dreary self; from Amelia, the lovely and idealistic (if eccentric) Knightley Press sales rep who keeps on taking the ferry over to Alice Island, refusing to be deterred by A.J.’s bad attitude. Even the books in his store have stopped holding pleasure for him. These days, A.J. can only see them as a sign of a world that is changing too rapidly.

And then a mysterious package appears at the bookstore. It’s a small package, but large in weight. It’s that unexpected arrival that gives A. J. Fikry the opportunity to make his life over, the ability to see everything anew. It doesn’t take long for the locals to notice the change overcoming A.J.; or for that determined sales rep, Amelia, to see her curmudgeonly client in a new light; or for the wisdom of all those books to become again the lifeblood of A.J.’s world; or for everything to twist again into a version of his life that he didn’t see coming. As surprising as it is moving, The Storied Life of A. J. Fikry is an unforgettable tale of transformation and second chances, an irresistible affirmation of why we read, and why we love.

This was my second reading of Gabrielle Zevin's delightful novel, The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry. My book group is discussing it later this month and I decided to reread it in order to refresh my memory of the details. It's amazing how much I'd forgotten! Unfortunately, it wasn't quite as great as the first time I read it. I thought my disappointment was due to the fact that I'm no longer working in a bookstore and all the nods to bookselling and publishing might be less meaningful, but I love books about books, especially when the author includes conversations about specific titles that I've read and loved. I think the real reason I wasn't as crazy about the book as I was in 2015 is because I just finished reading Maggie O'Farrell's Hamnet, which is a very lyrical and lush novel. Zevin's book is an endearing story, which I enjoyed, but it felt somewhat simplistic in comparison to O'Farrell's. It will be interesting to hear what others in my book group have to say about the writing. There may not be a lot to discuss.

Click here to read my previous review, which includes a couple of favorite passages.

Looking Back - How Reading Changed My Life

Looking Back... In an effort to transfer my book journal entries over to this blog, I'm going to attempt to post (in chronological order) an entry every Friday. I may or may not add extra commentary to what I jotted down in these journals.

How Reading Changed My Life by Anna Quindlen

Nonfiction - Essays

1998 Library of Contemporary Thought

Read in September 2000

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

A recurring theme throughout Anna Quindlen's How Reading Changed My Life is the comforting premise that readers are never alone. "There was waking, and there was sleeping. And then there were books," she writes, "a kind of parallel universe in which anything might happen and frequently did, a universe in which I might be a newcomer but never really a stranger. My real, true world." Later, she quotes editor Hazel Rochman: "Reading makes immigrants of us all. It takes us away from home, but, most important, it finds homes for us everywhere." Indeed, Quindlen's essays are full of the names of "friends," real or fictional—Anne of Green Gables and Heidi; Anthony Trollope and Jane Austen, to name just a few—who have comforted, inspired, educated, and delighted her throughout her life. In four short essays Quindlen shares her thoughts on the act of reading itself ("It is like the rubbing of two sticks together to make a fire, the act of reading, an improbable pedestrian task that leads to heat and light"); analyzes the difference between how men and women read ("there are very few books in which male characters, much less boys, are portrayed as devoted readers"); and cheerfully defends middlebrow literature: Most of those so-called middlebrow readers would have readily admitted that the Iliad set a standard that could not be matched by What Makes Sammy Run? or Exodus. But any reader with common sense would also understand intuitively, immediately, that such comparisons are false, that the uses of reading are vast and variegated and that some of them are not addressed by Homer.

My Original Thoughts (2000):

Pretty good, but not as good as Ex Libris (Fadiman). A little dry and boring in spots. A few good quotes and passages. 11 great reading lists.

My Current Thoughts:

I own seven books (fiction and nonfiction) by Anna Quindlen, which I've read and loved, but this fell short of my expectations. I wish I had written down some of those good quotes and passages. Ah, well. I can probably borrow a copy from the library and see if my opinion has changed over the years.

Looking Back - Ex LIbris

Looking Back... In an effort to transfer my book journal entries over to this blog, I'm going to attempt to post (in chronological order) an entry every Friday. I may or may not add extra commentary to what I jotted down in these journals.

Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader by Anne Fadiman

Nonfiction

1998 Farrar, Straus and Giroux

Finished on April 29, 2000

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Anne Fadiman is--by her own admission--the sort of person who learned about sex from her father's copy of Fanny Hill, whose husband buys her 19 pounds of dusty books for her birthday, and who once found herself poring over her roommate's 1974 Toyota Corolla manual because it was the only written material in the apartment that she had not read at least twice.

This witty collection of essays recounts a lifelong love affair with books and language. For Fadiman, as for many passionate readers, the books she loves have become chapters in her own life story. Writing with remarkable grace, she revives the tradition of the well-crafted personal essay, moving easily from anecdotes about Coleridge and Orwell to tales of her own pathologically literary family. As someone who played at blocks with her father's 22-volume set of Trollope ("My Ancestral Castles") and who only really considered herself married when she and her husband had merged collections ("Marrying Libraries"), she is exquisitely well equipped to expand upon the art of inscriptions, the perverse pleasures of compulsive proof-reading, the allure of long words, and the satisfactions of reading out loud. There is even a foray into pure literary gluttony--Charles Lamb liked buttered muffin crumbs between the leaves, and Fadiman knows of more than one reader who literally consumes page corners. Perfectly balanced between humor and erudition, Ex Libris establishes Fadiman as one of our finest contemporary essayists.

My Original Thoughts (2000):

Fadiman speaks joyfully of books, book collecting, and book ownership. 18 charming essays - my favorites are Marrying Libraries, Never Do That to a Book, Inse^t a Carrot, Eternal Ink, The Catalogical Imperative, and My Odd Shelf.

My Current Thoughts:

I was surprised to discover a copy of this book in my bookcase. I thought it wound up in the discard pile when I was culling my books before our move four years ago, but I must have decided it was worth keeping in spite of not loving it. I find that when I read a collection of short stories, poetry or essays, there may be a handful that I enjoy, but not usually the majority of the offerings. I love books about books, so I'll give Ex Libris another read and see how I feel about it now some time has passed since my first reading.

Howards End is on the Landing

 

Howards End is on the Landing by Susan Hill

Nonfiction/Essays

2010 Profile Books (first published in 2009)

Finished on December 25, 2020

Rating: 2/5 (Fair)

Publisher's Blurb:

This is a year of reading from home, by one of Britain's most distinguished authors.

Early one autumn afternoon in pursuit of an elusive book on her shelves, Susan Hill encountered dozens of others that she had never read, or forgotten she owned, or wanted to read for a second time.

The discovery inspired her to embark on a year-long voyage through her books, forsaking new purchases in order to get to know her own collection again.

A book which is left on a shelf for a decade is a dead thing, but it is also a chrysalis, packed with the potential to burst into new life. Wandering through her house that day, Hill's eyes were opened to how much of that life was stored in her home, neglected for years. 

Howards End is on the Landing charts the journey of one of the nation's most accomplished authors as she revisits the conversations, libraries and bookshelves of the past that have informed a lifetime of reading and writing.

I've read a couple of Susan Hill's Simon Serrallier mysteries (The Shadows in the Streets and The Various Haunts of Men are excellent!), but this was my first encounter with one of her nonfiction titles. I learned about Howards End is on the Landing from my friend Nan (Letters From a Hill Farm) many years ago. She loved the book and I was so inspired, I bought a copy to give to my mom without reading it ahead of time. I added both this book and Jacob's Room is Full of Books (also by Susan Hill) to my stack for the Nonfiction November reading challenge, eager to read a couple of books about books.

Oh, how I wanted to love this book. How could I not love a book about spending an entire year reading from one's own shelves? Nan spoke so fondly of it (you can read her thoughts here and here), but I am sorry to say that I found it rather dull. There is far too much name dropping and as I don't read a lot of British authors, many of the names were unfamiliar to me. I did enjoy the essay about Virginia Woolf (which has inspired me to give Mrs. Dalloway another reading), as well as one about children's books, but overall I was disappointed and admit that I even skimmed several pages. I hope Jacob's Room is Full of Books is the better of the two books. 

Be sure to visit Nan's blog and read her glowing review of this book. 

I'd Rather Be Reading

I'd Rather Be Reading by Anne Bogel
Nonfiction
2018 Baker Books
Finished on November 23, 2019
Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

For so many people, reading isn't just a hobby or a way to pass the time--it's a lifestyle. Our books shape us, define us, enchant us, and even sometimes infuriate us. Our books are a part of who we are as people, and we can't imagine life without them.

I'd Rather Be Reading is the perfect literary companion for everyone who feels that way. In this collection of charming and relatable reflections on the reading life, beloved blogger and author Anne Bogel leads readers to remember the book that first hooked them, the place where they first fell in love with reading, and all of the moments afterward that helped make them the reader they are today. Known as a reading tastemaker through her popular podcast What Should I Read Next?, Bogel invites book lovers into a community of like-minded people to discover new ways to approach literature, learn fascinating new things about books and publishing, and reflect on the role reading plays in their lives.

The perfect gift for the bibliophile in everyone's life, I'd Rather Be Reading will command an honored place on the overstuffed bookshelves of any book lover.

Over the years, I have read and enjoyed many books about bookstores, books and reading: Ex Libris (Anne Fadiman), Dear Fahrenheit 451 (Annie Spence), 84, Charing Cross Road (Helene Hanff), The Book That Matters Most (Ann Hood), The End of Your Life Book Club (Will Schwalbe), Leave Me Alone, I'm Reading (Maureen Corrigan), So Many Books, So Little Time (Sara Nelson) and Book Lust (Nancy Pearl), to name just a few. Most recently, Ann Hood's gem, Morningstar: Growing Up with Books had me nodding my head and reaching for my Post-It flags to mark favorite passages. Bogel's slim collection of essays had me doing the same and didn't disappoint.

Favorite Passages:

You're looking for a book that reminds you why you read in the first place. One written well and that will feel like it was written just for you--one that will make you think about things in a new way, or feel things you didn't expect a book to make you feel, or see things in a new light. A book you won't want to put down, whose characters you don't want to tell good-bye. A book you will close feeling satisfied and grateful, thinking, Now, that was a good one.

and

A good book allows me to step into another world, to experience people and places and situations foreign to my own day-to-day existence. I love experiencing the new, the novel, the otherwise impossible--especially when I can do it from my own comfy chair.

and

Books draw us deeply into the lives of others, showing us the world through someone else's eyes, page after page. They take us to new and exciting places while meeting us right where we are, whisking us away to walk by the Seine or through a Saharan desert or down a Manhattan sidewalk.

and 

Your To Be Read list holds 8,972 titles, and you want to read every one. Your TBR list is unquestionably too long to finish before you die. Your TBR list is longer than your arm, but you still can't decide what to read next. You have countless unread books at home, yet you feel like you have nothing to read. You have countless unread books at home, but the only book you're in the mood to read won't be published for six more weeks. You have countless unread books at home, but you can't resist buying one more. 

and

There's something about glimpsing, and especially handling, a book from long ago that takes me right back to where I was when I first read it. The book triggers memories of why I picked it up, how it made me feel, what was going on in my life at the time, transporting me so thoroughly that, for a moment, I feel like I'm there once again.

and

Bookish enthusiasm is contagious, but it isn't sufficient--not if I want to find the books that are truly right for me, and for you to find the ones that are right for you. It's easy enough for me to say, I liked that book," or "I didn't," but I often struggle to explain why. I'm constantly surprised at how difficult it is to articulate my thoughts on what I've read in a way that is coherent, useful, and enjoyable, whether I'm sharing a five-thousand-word formal review or a twenty-word text message. But I feel I owe it to my fellow readers to try, because my comments help others decide what is worth reading and what should be read next.

and

We are readers. Books grace our shelves and fill our homes with beauty; they dwell in our minds and occupy our thoughts. Books prompt us to spend pleasant hours alone and connect us with fellow readers. They invite us to escape into their pages for an afternoon, and they inspire us to reimagine our lives. Good reading journals provide glimpses of how we've spent our days, and they tell the story of our lives.

I'd Rather Be Reading is the perfect gift for any bibliophile on your Christmas list. Be sure to order a copy for yourself, too! 

The Library Book

The Library Book by Susan Orlean
Nonfiction
2018 Simon & Schuster
Finished on March 19, 2019
Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

On the morning of April 28, 1986, a fire alarm sounded in the Los Angeles Public Library. As the moments passed, the patrons and staff who had been cleared out of the building realized this was not the usual fire alarm. As one fireman recounted, “Once that first stack got going, it was ‘Goodbye, Charlie.’” The fire was disastrous: it reached 2000 degrees and burned for more than seven hours. By the time it was extinguished, it had consumed four hundred thousand books and damaged seven hundred thousand more. Investigators descended on the scene, but more than thirty years later, the mystery remains: Did someone purposefully set fire to the library—and if so, who?

Weaving her lifelong love of books and reading into an investigation of the fire, award-winning New Yorker reporter and New York Times bestselling author Susan Orlean delivers a mesmerizing and uniquely compelling book that manages to tell the broader story of libraries and librarians in a way that has never been done before.

In The Library Book, Orlean chronicles the LAPL fire and its aftermath to showcase the larger, crucial role that libraries play in our lives; delves into the evolution of libraries across the country and around the world, from their humble beginnings as a metropolitan charitable initiative to their current status as a cornerstone of national identity; brings each department of the library to vivid life through on-the-ground reporting; studies arson and attempts to burn a copy of a book herself; reflects on her own experiences in libraries; and reexamines the case of Harry Peak, the blond-haired actor long suspected of setting fire to the LAPL more than thirty years ago.

Along the way, Orlean introduces us to an unforgettable cast of characters from libraries past and present—from Mary Foy, who in 1880 at eighteen years old was named the head of the Los Angeles Public Library at a time when men still dominated the role, to Dr. C.J.K. Jones, a pastor, citrus farmer, and polymath known as “The Human Encyclopedia” who roamed the library dispensing information; from Charles Lummis, a wildly eccentric journalist and adventurer who was determined to make the L.A. library one of the best in the world, to the current staff, who do heroic work every day to ensure that their institution remains a vital part of the city it serves.

Brimming with her signature wit, insight, compassion, and talent for deep research, The Library Book is Susan Orlean’s thrilling journey through the stacks that reveals how these beloved institutions provide much more than just books—and why they remain an essential part of the heart, mind, and soul of our country. It is also a master journalist’s reminder that, perhaps especially in the digital era, they are more necessary than ever.

The Library Book is sure to be a favorite of any lover of books and libraries. I couldn't put it down! I was very impressed with the amount of research that went into this work and marveled at Orlean's skill. She was able to take the two threads (the fire and the history of the library) and weave them into a compelling narrative, which piqued my curiosity, sending me to Google for images and more facts about the Los Angeles Central Library and its architect (the same individual who designed the state Capitol in Lincoln, Nebraska). To borrow another reviewer's statement about a different book, The Library Book is "broad in scope, intimate in detail." The majority of my book club enjoyed Orlean's book and if my sister-in-law, who now works for the Lincoln City Libraries, and my book-loving firefighter friend, haven't yet read this, I highly recommend it to both! I would love to hear their thoughts on this compelling account of the Los Angeles Central Library fire. I'm also eager to hear my husband's thoughts, as he grew up in L.A., although he and I were both living in San Diego when the fire occurred. Surprisingly, neither of us remember hearing anything about it, but now knowing the story, I would love to visit the library if we're ever in the area on one of our road trips.

Favorite Passages:

The library is a gathering pool of narratives and of the people who come to find them. It is where we can glimpse immortality; in the library, we can live forever.

and

A puff of outside air wafted in and down the hall. Then, in an instant, people poured in--the hoverers, who bolted from their posts in the garden, and the wall-sitters, and the morning fumblers, and the school groups, and the businesspeople, and the parents with strollers heading to story time, and the students, and the homeless, who rushed straight to the bathrooms and then made a beeline to the computer center, and the scholars, and the time-wasters, and the readers, and the curious, and the bored[...]

and 

All the things that are wrong in the world seem conquered by a library’s simple unspoken promise: Here I am, please tell me your story; here is my story, please listen.

and

The library is a whispering post. You don't need to take a book off a shelf to know there is a voice inside that is waiting to speak to you, and behind that was someone who truly believed that if he or she spoke, someone would listen. It was that affirmation that always amazed me. Even the oddest, most peculiar book was written with that kind of courage -- the writer's belief that someone would find his or her book important to read. I was struck by how precious and foolish and brave that belief is, and how necessary, and how full of hope it is to collect these books and manuscripts and preserve them. It declares that stories matter, and so does every effort to create something that connects us to one another, and to our past, and to what is still to come.

and

I have come to believe that books have souls—why else would I be so reluctant to throw one away?

and

It seems simple to define what a library is—namely, it is a storeroom of books. But the more time I spent at Central, the more I realized that a library is an intricate machine, a contraption of whirring gears. There were days when I came to the library and planted myself near the center of the main corridor and simply watched the whirl and throb of the place. Sometimes people ambled by, with no apparent destination. Some people marched crisply, full of purpose. Many were alone, some were in pairs; occasionally they traveled in a gaggle. People think that libraries are quiet, but they really aren't. They rumble with voices and footsteps and a whole orchestral range of book-related noises—the snap of covers clapping shut; the breathy whisk of pages fanning open; the distinctive thunk of one book being stacked on another; the grumble of book carts in the corridors.

and

I loved wandering around the bookshelves, scanning the spines until something happened to catch my eye. Those visits were dreamy, frictionless interludes that promised I would leave richer than I arrived. It wasn't like going to a store with my mom, which guaranteed a tug-of-war between what I wanted and what my mother was willing to buy me; in the library I could have anything I wanted.

and 

They formed a human chain, passing the books hand over hand from one person to the next, through the smoky building and out the door. It was as if, in this urgent moment, the people of Los Angeles formed a living library. They created, for that short time, a system to protect and pass along shared knowledge, to save what we know for each other, which is what libraries do every day.

I was pleasantly surprised by this book and look forward to trying more by Susan Orlean. Any recommendations? The Orchid Thief and Rin Tin Tin both sound wonderful.

The Uncommon Reader

The Uncommon Reader by Alan Bennett
Fiction
2007 Farrar, Straus and Giroux
Finished on February 19, 2018
Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

From one of England's most celebrated writers, the author of the award-winning The History Boys, a funny and superbly observed novella about the Queen of England and the subversive power of reading.

When her corgis stray into a mobile library parked near Buckingham Palace, the Queen feels duty-bound to borrow a book. Discovering the joy of reading widely (from J. R. Ackerley, Jean Genet, and Ivy Compton-Burnett to the classics) and intelligently, she finds that her view of the world changes dramatically. Abetted in her newfound obsession by Norman, a young man from the royal kitchens, the Queen comes to question the prescribed order of the world and loses patience with the routines of her role as monarch. Her new passion for reading initially alarms the palace staff, and soon leads to surprising and very funny consequences for the country at large.

Oh, this is one every book-lover and Anglophile should own! It's a quick read and quite witty. Having recently watched The Crown, I could hear the Queen's distinctive voice as I read. Here are a few favorite passages:

"Pass the time?" said the Queen. "Books are not about passing the time. They're about other lives. Other worlds. Far from wanting to pass, Sir Kevin, one just wishes one had more of it. If one wanted to pass the time one could go to New Zealand."

and

The appeal of reading, she thought, lay in its indifference: there was something undeferring about literature. Books did not care who was reading them or whether one read them or not. All readers were equal, herself included. Literature, she thought, is a commonwealth; letters a republic. Actually, she had heard this phrase, the republic of letters, used before, at graduation ceremonies, honorary degrees and the like, though without knowing quite what it meant. At that time talk of a republic of any sort she had thought mildly insulting and in her actual presence tactless, to say the least. It was only now she understood what it meant. Books did not defer. All readers were equal, and this took her back to the beginning of her life. As a girl, one of her greatest thrills had been on VE night when she and her sister had slipped out of the gates and mingled unrecognised with the crowds. There was something of that, she felt, to reading. It was anonymous; it was shared; it was common. And she who had led life apart now found that she craved it. Here in these pages and between these covers she could go unrecognised.

and 

It was this sense of making up for lost time that made her read with such rapidity and in the process now making more frequent (and more confident) comments of her own, bringing to what was in effect literary criticism the same forthrightness with which she tackled other departments of her life. She was not a gentle reader and often wished authors were around so that she could take them to task.

"Am I alone," she wrote, "in wanting to give Henry James a good talking-to?"

"I can see why Dr. Johnson is well thought of, but surely, much of it is opinionated rubbish?"

It was Henry James she was reading one teatime when she said out loud, "Oh, do get on."

I'm going to treat myself to a copy for Christmas. This is one to be read more than once!

Dear Fahrenheit 451: Love and Heartbreak in the Stacks

Dear Fahrenheit 451: Love and Heartbreak in the Stacks by Annie Spence
Nonfiction
2017 Dreamscape Media, LLC
Read by Stephanie Spicer
Finished on January 6, 2018
Rating: 4.5/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Librarians spend their lives weeding - not weeds, but books - books that have reached the end of their shelf life both literally and figuratively. They remove books that patrons no longer check out, and they put back books they treasure. Annie Spence, who has a decade of experience as a Midwestern librarian, does this not only at her Michigan library but also at home, for her neighbors, at cocktail parties - everywhere. In Dear Fahrenheit 451, she addresses those books directly. We hear her love letters to The Goldfinch and Matilda as well as her snarky break-ups with 50 Shades of Grey and Dear John. Her notes to The Virgin Suicides and The Time Traveler's Wife feel like classics that are sure to strike a powerful chord.

Through the lens of the books in her life, Annie comments on feminism, culture, health, poverty, childhood aspirations, and more. Hilarious, compassionate, and wise, Dear Fahrenheit 451 is the consummate book-lover's birthday present, stocking stuffer, holiday gift, and all-purpose humor book.

Before we moved to Oregon last year, we spent quite a bit of time going through all our belongings, choosing the items we couldn't live without and discarding the extraneous clutter that we both had accumulated over the course of not only our married life together (30 years!), but of our entire lives. When I first started reading as an adult, I wanted to keep every single book I had ever read, but as the years progressed (and my insatiable appetite for new books continued to grow), I knew at some point I would have to get rid of some of my beloved books. Moving has always prompted us to purge a lot from our stacks, so we got to work, sorting book by book until we had a manageable amount to take with us. Now that we're all settled in, I can glance at my bookcases and see all of the books I have yet to read, as well as all my favorites, which I swear I'll read again one day. Reading Annie Spence's love letters to the books in her life has nudged me to do just that. 

I listened to the audio version of Dear Fahrenheit and I couldn't stop walking, it  was so entertaining! I'm sure I got strange looks from passersby as I chortled with uncontrollable laughter, walking along with my headphones on my head. I enjoyed the book so much that I bought a copy to read again, this time with my Post-It Notes in hand. (The downside of listening to an audiobook is the inability to mark passages to share in my reviews, so I'll just have to add an update to this post after I've read the book a second time.) I want to share the book with everyone in my book club and send copies to my former co-workers at Barnes & Noble. This is a great choice for book lovers of all types. Laugh out loud and nod-your-head in agreement stories, especially if you've worked in a library or in a bookstore.

A librarian's laugh-out-loud funny, deeply moving collection of letters to the books in her life.

Annie Spence, who has a decade of experience as a Midwestern librarian, writes letters to books, not only at her library but also at home, at her neighbors, at cocktail parties—everywhere. In Dear Fahrenheit 451, we read her love letters to Just Kids and Frog and Toad Storybook Treasury, as well as her break-ups with The Giving Tree and Dear John. Her notes to The Goldfinch and The Time Traveler’s Wife feel like classics. Through the lens of the books in her life, Annie comments on everything from women’s psychology to gay culture to health to poverty to childhood aspirations. Hilarious, compassionate, and wise, Dear Fahrenheit 451 is the consummate book-lover's book. (From the author's website.)

Morningstar: Growing Up with Books

Morningstar: Growing Up with Books by Ann Hood
Nonfiction - Memoir
2017 W. W. Norton & Company
Finished on January 5, 2018
Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

In her admired works of fiction, including most recently The Book That Matters Most, Ann Hood explores the transformative power of literature. Now, with warmth and honesty, Hood reveals the personal story behind these beloved novels.

Growing up in a mill town in Rhode Island, in a household that didn't foster a love of literature, Ann Hood discovered nonetheless the companionship of books. She learned to channel her imagination, ambitions, and curiosity by devouring ever-growing stacks. In Morningstar, Hood recollects how The Bell Jar, Marjorie Morningstar, The Harrad Experiment, and The Outsiders influenced her teen psyche and introduced her to topics that could not be discussed at home: desire, fear, sexuality, and madness. Later Johnny Got His Gun and The Grapes of Wrath dramatically influenced her political thinking while the Vietnam War and the Kent State shootings became headline news, and classics such as Dr. Zhivago and Les Miserables stoked her ambitions to travel the world. With characteristic insight and charm, Hood showcases the ways in which books gave her life and can transform--even save--our own lives.

I am so glad I trusted my instincts and bought a hardcover copy of this little gem-of-a-book before the holidays. I read Hood's previous book (The Book That Matters Most) last year and enjoyed her writing style so well that I added her entire backlist to my TBR list on Goodreads. Not only was I eager to read more by her, but a book about books is an immediate purchase for me. This one did not disappoint. I only have a few pages marked, but as I read them a second time, I know that I will  return to this book in the coming year, making notes of more books to read and recommend to my book club.

My only quibbles about Morningstar is that Hood has a tendency to repeat herself  and there are a few times in which she states the obvious (for example, she mentions well-known facts and details about World War II and Vietnam with which most adults are familiar), but her general love of books and her reactions and feelings about specific books (The Grapes of Wrath and The Bell Jar, to name just a couple) are spot-on. In addition to inspiring me to reread The Grapes of Wrath, she has also given me reason to add Majorie Morningstar and Rabbit, Run to my future reading list.

Favorite Passages:

Before Skip gave me that boxed set of Steinbeck, no one had ever given me a book as a gift. But the gift was even bigger than he'd imagined. When I read the first line of The Grapes of Wrath--"To the red country and part of the gray of Oklahoma, the last rains came gently, and they did not cut the scarred earth"--some writerly thing broke loose in me. "Spread a page with shining," Steinbeck once advised writers, and I could see that shine as I read. I understood it. I had read big, fat novels before, losing myself in Victor Hugo's Les Miserables and Boris Pasternak's Doctor Zhivago. Those sweeping stories, tragedies and triumphs spanning years and years, had captivated me for their otherness. But The Grapes of Wrath was so American, and the Joads so familiar somehow, and the language so lyrical, and the setting so real, that by reading it I saw what writers could do. And it dazzled me.

and 

It did not occur to me that somewhere in the library sat volumes of poetry. It seemed to me a precious thing, a poem, and I could not begin to imagine where poems resided. But one night as I played my favorite album, Simon and Garfunkel's Sound of Silence, it struck me that its eponymous song was actually a poem. Wasn't darkness, my old friend personification? And words like silent raindrops fell a simile? The neon God a metaphor? I played the song over and over, a notebook in hand, teasing out its meaning. Then I turned my attention to I am a rock--metaphor! I am an island! When we had to write a paper on our favorite poet, my classmate Nancy wrote hers on Robert Frost and Steven wrote his on Edgar Allan Poe. But me, I wrote mine on Paul Simon.

and

Isn't this the magic of books? That a fourteen-year-old girl can exactly identify with the fictional character of a twenty-six-year-old, married, former basketball star from Pennsylvania just as readily as that same girl--Italian American, blue-collar, Catholic in a small town--exactly identifies with Majorie Morningstar, an upper-middle-class Jewish girl in New York City? When I read Rabbit, Run, I understood that Rabbit, and John Updike, knew me. The me I didn't think anyone else saw.

and

This is why we all read, isn't it? To know the world and ourselves better. To find our place in that world. Even if you did have access to readers and guidance on what to read, even if you grew up in a family that loved to read and owned shelves of books, still, still, one day a book falls into your hands--perhaps it's Beloved or A Wrinkle in Time or A Tree Grows in Brooklyn; perhaps it's Great Expectations or Pride and Prejudice--whatever book it is, it falls into your hands at just the right moment when you need to read it. It transforms you. Perhaps it lifts you up when you are at your lowest; perhaps it shows you what love is, or what it feels like to lose love; perhaps it brings you places far away or shows you how to stay put when you need to.

There are so many books about books and books about readers, many of which I've read and are sitting on my "keeper shelf" for future readings. Ann Hood has written a gem, which is short enough to read annually, but not long enough to satisfy my curiosity about any other books she has loved and can recommend. Morningstar is a perfect gift for any book lover and I'm so happy I gifted it to myself this past Christmas.

84, Charing Cross Road

84, Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff
Nonfiction - Memoir
1990 Penguin Books (First published in 1970)
Finished on November 14, 2017
Rating: 5/5 (Excellent!)

Publisher's Blurb:

This charming classic, first published in 1970, brings together twenty years of correspondence between Helene Hanff, a freelance writer living in New York City, and a used-book dealer in London. Through the years, though never meeting and separated both geographically and culturally, they share a winsome, sentimental friendship based on their common love for books. Their relationship, captured so acutely in these letters, is one that will grab your heart and not let go.

I don't know how many times I've read this delightful book of letters, but I fall in love with it every time I pick it up. Last year I read it in one day for Nonfiction November and in spite of knowing the ending, I still got choked up when I read the letter to Helene from Frank's secretary.

You can read my previous post for 84, Charing Cross Road here.

The Book That Matters Most

The Book That Matters Most by Ann Hood
Fiction
20106 W.W. Norton
Finished on February 22, 2017
Rating: 4.5/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

An enthralling novel about love, loss, secrets, friendship, and the healing power of literature, by the bestselling author of The Knitting Circle.

Ava’s twenty-five-year marriage has fallen apart, and her two grown children are pursuing their own lives outside of the country. Ava joins a book group, not only for her love of reading but also out of sheer desperation for companionship. The group’s goal throughout the year is for each member to present the book that matters most to them. Ava rediscovers a mysterious book from her childhood—one that helped her through the traumas of the untimely deaths of her sister and mother. Alternating with Ava’s story is that of her troubled daughter Maggie, who, living in Paris, descends into a destructive relationship with an older man. Ava’s mission to find that book and its enigmatic author takes her on a quest that unravels the secrets of her past and offers her and Maggie the chance to remake their lives.

I really enjoyed this book! I was quickly drawn into the story and was happy that the author had her characters actually discuss the books they chose for their book club rather than just use the meetings as a device to establish and develop their relationships. One of the character's unwise decisions made me feel frustrated and impatient with her immaturity, and the plot was somewhat predictable, but overall I savored the story, enjoying my time reading, drawing out the finale until I could no longer keep from finishing.

Ava glanced around the room, at John wearing his befuddled expression; and Monique nodding enthusiastically; and Ruth standing there gripping her index cards, flustered; and Honor lecturing them; and Diana with her dramatically made up eyes and dark red lips; and Kiki taking notes in her Moleskine; and Cate, such a good friend for letting her come here in the first place, sitting back and listening to their voices rise in their love of books. The sight of them all filled Ava with a warmth and comfort she had not felt in a long time.

What reader doesn't enjoy a book about bookstores or book groups? I am such a sucker for this sub-genre and have read quite a few entertaining novels and thought-provoking memoirs in this category, many of which that have expanded my TBR shelves with even more to read. The following are the books that Hood mentions in her story:

Pride and Prejudice
Like Water for Chocolate
The Great Gatsby
Anna Karenina
One Hundred Years of Solitude
To Kill A Mockingbird
The Lord of The Rings
The Golden Notebook
Dinner at The Homesick Restaurant
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
The Leopard
Dr. Zhivago
The House of Mirth
Slaughterhouse-Five
As You Like It

Ever since I finished reading The Book That Matters Most, I've been pondering the title, wondering what one book matters most to me. What an impossible question! It's like asking me what is my favorite book. Or who is my favorite author. It's futile to try to narrow it down to a single answer because so much depends on when I read the book and what was going on in my life. So many books have touched me in one way or another for a variety of reasons. And yet, if I had to give one answer I would pick Neil Peart's memoir, Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road. (Yes, that Neil Peart, the drummer for Canadian rock band, Rush.) I read it shortly after we lost our daughter and it was the first book about grief that had me nodding my head in complete agreement. All my thoughts and feelings were echoed in Peart's own words. He had not only lost his daughter, but ten months later his wife died, as well. He knew grief. And he was able to convey to me, through his own stories, that I would not only survive this unbelievable pain and suffering, but ultimately come to enjoy life once more. He was right.

I have since read Ann Hood's latest book, Morningstar: Growing Up With Books and in the final pages she says,

This is why we all read, isn't it? To know the world and ourselves better. To find our place in that world. Even if you did have access to readers and guidance on what to read, even if you grew up in a family that loved to read and owned shelves of books, still, still, one day a book falls into your hands -- perhaps it's Beloved or A Wrinkle in Time or A Tree Grows in Brooklyn; perhaps it's Great Expectations or Pride and Prejudice -- whatever book it is, it falls into your hands at just the right moment when you need to read it. It transforms you. Perhaps it lifts you up when you are at your lowest; perhaps it shows you what love is, or what it feels like to lose love; perhaps it brings you places far away or shows you how to stay put when you need to.

Yes. 

The End of Your Life Book Club

The End of Your Life Book Club by Will Schwalbe
Memoir
2012 Random House Audio
Reader: Jeff Harding
Finished on May 9, 2014
Rating: 4.5/5 (Very Good)

 

From Ian McEwan’s On Chesil Beach to Khaled Hosseini’s A Thousand Splendid Suns, William Trevor’s Felicia’s Journey to Josephine Tey’s Brat Farrar, Geraldine Brooks’s People of the Book to John Updike’s My Father’s Tears: the books they shared allowed them to speak honestly and thoughtfully, to get to know each other, ask big questions, and especially talk about death. With a refreshing forthrightness, and an excellent list of books included, this is an astonishing, pertinent, and wonderfully welcome work. ~ Publishers Weekly

Publisher’s Blurb:

“Sharing books he loved with his savvy New Yorker mom had always been a great pleasure for both mother and son, becoming especially poignant when she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 2007, at age 73 . . . The books they shared allowed them to speak honestly and thoughtfully, to get to know each other, ask big questions, and especially talk about death. With a refreshing forthrightness, and an excellent list of books included, this is an astonishing, pertinent, and wonderfully welcome work.” —Publishers Weekly

“What are you reading?”

That’s the question Will Schwalbe asks his mother, Mary Anne, as they sit in the waiting room of the Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center. In 2007, Mary Anne returned from a humanitarian trip to Pakistan and Afghanistan suffering from what her doctors believed was a rare type of hepatitis. Months later she was diagnosed with a form of advanced pancreatic cancer, which is almost always fatal, often in six months or less.

This is the inspiring true story of a son and his mother, who start a “book club” that brings them together as her life comes to a close. Over the next two years, Will and Mary Anne carry on conversations that are both wide-ranging and deeply personal, prompted by an eclectic array of books and a shared passion for reading. Their list jumps from classic to popular, from poetry to mysteries, from fantastic to spiritual. The issues they discuss include questions of faith and courage as well as everyday topics such as expressing gratitude and learning to listen. Throughout, mother and son are constantly reminded of the power of books to comfort us, astonish us, teach us, and tell us what we need to do with our lives and in the world. Reading isn’t the opposite of doing; it’s the opposite of dying.

Will and Mary Anne share their hopes and concerns with each other—and rediscover their lives—through their favorite books. When they read, they aren’t a sick person and a well person, but a mother and a son taking a journey together. The result is a profoundly moving tale of loss that is also a joyful, and often humorous, celebration of life: Will’s love letter to his mother, and theirs to the printed page.

I started listening to the audio version of The End of Your Life Book Club last year, but after finishing the first chapter I knew it was the sort of book that would require dozens of Post-It Notes. I decided to stop listening and instead read the print edition in order to highlight some of my favorite passages. However, I never got around to getting a copy of the book, so I started listening again (from the beginning) with the idea that I’d just make notes and glance at the book once I’d finished. I found myself still wanting to take lengthy notes about the various books mentioned, as well as highlight the passages about a parent with cancer, so as soon as I finished the audio, I immediately bought the book. As I sit here composing this review, I find myself re-reading not just a paragraph here and there, but full pages and complete chapters. In addition to the beautiful story about the author and his mother, it’s a wealth of information for any bibliophile!

On reading:

Our book club got its formal start with the mocha and one of the most casual questions two people can ask each other: “What are you reading?” It’s something of a quaint question these days. More often in lulls of conversation people ask, “What movies have you seen?” or “Where are you going on vacation?” You can no longer assume, the way you could when I was growing up, that anyone is reading anything. But it’s a question my mother and I asked each other for as long as I can remember. 

and

We all have a lot more to read than we can read and a lot more to do than we can do. Still, one of the things I learned from Mom is this: Reading isn’t the opposite of doing; it’s the opposite of dying. I will never be able to read my mother’s favorite books without thinking of her—and when I pass them on and recommend them, I’ll know that some of what made her goes with them; that some of my mother will live on in those readers, readers who may be inspired to love the way she loved and do their own version of what she did in the world.

On opening lines:

Mom and I loved opening lines of novels. “The small boys came early to the hanging” was one of favorites, from Ken Follett’s The Pillars of the Earth. How could you not go on reading? And the first sentence of John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany: “I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice—not because of his voice, or because he was the smallest person I knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother’s death, but because he is the reason I believe in God; I am a Christian because of Owen Meany.” And E. M. Forster’s first line in Howard’s End: “One may as well begin with Helen’s letters to her sister.” It’s the “may as well” that draws you in—casual, chatty even, yet it gives the reader a strong sense that there’s a lot of story to come.

On bound books:

One of the many things I love about bound books is their sheer physicality. Electronic books live out of sight and out of mind. But printed books have body, presence. Sure, sometimes they’ll elude you by hiding in improbable places: in a box full of old picture frames, say, or in the laundry basket, wrapped in a sweatshirt. But at other times they’ll confront you, and you’ll literally stumble over some tomes you hadn’t thought about in weeks or years. I often seek electronic books, but they never come after me. They make me feel, but I can’t feel them. They are all soul with no flesh, no texture, and no weight. They can get in your head but can’t whack you upside it.

From the Epilogue:

I often think about the things Mom taught me. Make your bed, every morning—it doesn’t matter if you feel like it, just do it. Write thank-you notes immediately. Unpack your suitcase, even if you’re only somewhere for the night. If you aren’t ten minutes early, you’re late. Be cheerful and listen to people, even if you don’t feel like it. Tell your spouse (children, grandchildren, parents) that you love them every day. Use shelf liner in bureaus. Keep a collection of presents on hand (Mom kept them in a “present drawer”), so that you’ll always have something to give people. Celebrate occasions. Be kind.
Even though nearly two years have passed since her death, I’m occasionally struck by the desire to call Mom and tell her something—usually about a book I’m reading that I know she’d love. Even though she’s not here, I tell her about it anyway. Just as I told her about the three million dollars the U.S. government has committed to building the library in Afghanistan. By the time this book is published, the Kabul library will be finished. I like to believe that she knows that.

and

…Mom taught me not to look away from the worst but to believe that we can all do better. She never wavered in her conviction that books are the most powerful tool in the human arsenal, that reading all kinds of books, in whatever format you choose—electronic (even though that wasn’t for her) or printed, or audio—is the grandest entertainment, and also is how you take part in the human conversation. Mom taught me that you can make a difference in the world and that books really do matter: they’re how we know what we need to do in life, and how we tell others. Mom also showed me, over the course of two years and dozens of books and hundreds of hours in hospitals, that books can be how we get closer to each other, and stay close, even in the case of a mother and son who were very close to each other to begin with, and even after one of them has died.

Final Thoughts:

In 1995 I joined my first book club. It consisted of two good friends and myself and we read a wide variety of novels, which we discussed over elegant lunches and often times while playing a few hands of Mahjong. Over the years I have since joined numerous online book groups, as well as face-to-face groups with co-workers and friends. My current group is comprised of three dear friends and while we don’t read an “assigned” selection, we get together once a month to share our recommendations of some recent favorites. As I read Will Schwalbe’s memoir, I couldn’t help but think of my own mother. Like her own mother and sister, she too is a voracious reader. There is never a conversation with my mom that doesn’t include the same question Schwalbe posed to his mother: “What are you reading?” I love that my mom and I share this passion for the written word and I look forward to many more years of her recommendations and thoughts on her current read. Maybe when I’m ready to dive back into this book (as well as some of the books mentioned by Schwalbe), she’ll decide to join me.