Category: Reading

Uneven memoir and meditation, capped by a wonderful speech

Obama wrote this memoir of his childhood, the start of his organizing career, and starting in law school. All of this is framed within the context of finding out more about who his father is and how that defines Obama himself.

This memoir / meditation is very uneven. I found the most compelling to be Obama’s memoirs, especially the time in Indonesia, in Kenya, organizing in Chicago, and the epilogue about his wedding and other development among the family we’ve come to know in the book. Other segments, especially where he ruminates at great length on black identity in America, I found too long. With this audiobook, Obama narrates it, which is fun except that sometimes, that cool, calming tone turns monotonous.

An added bonus is Obama’s speech from the 2004 Democratic National Convention (where Kerry was chosen as the candidate and Obama was running for the senate), which is inspiring and moving.

I wanted to love this, but I didn’t. My review, like those Obama cites of when the book first came out, is mildly positive.

My last trip to Brazil meant TWO Poirot novels, and that was just the first week!

not the most exciting, but one of the cleverest endings yet

Poirot boards a train that gets stuck in the snow, far from any outside help. Someone is murdered. Poirot must solve the crime!

Because the book takes place in just one place, it’s a little less action driven than some of the others (even than some of the good ones, like Murder of Roger Ackroyd, not just the terrible Big Four). But the ending is oh-so-clever and rather delightful. I was very pleased with Poirot’s tenth published outing. (I admit I haven’t read his 7th, the play Black Coffee, but I’ve read the others.)

Another Brazil trip meant another couple of Christie novels with my old friend Hercule Poirot.

standard good time with Poirot, with a couple of elements that set it apart

Poirot and Hastings are lounging around when – once again – there is a murder!  In this story we have a hardened husband, a glamorous actress wife, an expert impressionist (i.e., impersonator), and so on.  I read this in about 24 hours and thoroughly enjoyed it.  It stood out from other encounters I’ve had with Hercule Poirot (all the novels and stories published previous to this one) in a couple of ways.

1. This is the first Poirot book I’ve read in which I got to the end and really thought that the twist should have occurred to me. 
2. Inspector Japp, Poirot’s friend from Scotland Yard, is transformed in this book into a much more arrogant, silly character than he was in earlier Poirot books, always pretending the good ideas are his and consistently insulting Poirot while seeking his help.

 And a final thought:  I don’t know why the ever endearing Hastings (and I do enjoy Poirot more when he walks with Hastings) keeps questioning if Poirot is losing his skills.  He’s not losing them, Arthur!  He’s never losing them!  Figure it out already!

didn’t like it until the very end, which doesn’t mean it doesn’t have anything to recommend it

If I were to go back and read a Bronte book, I would read Jane Eyre.  For 85% of Wuthering Heights I thought, This is just a book full of miserable people.  I can’t sympathize with any of them.  I almost stopped listening (it was an audiobook) a few times.  But…

1. It has a lovely ending.
2. It has an interesting narrative structure: The whole story is narrated by Mr Lockwood, who observes very little of the action firsthand, instead hearing most of it from Nelly (the story within a story) who hears key parts of it from other minor characters (the story within a story within a story!).
3. The best of the characters love to read.  How can I not sympathize, at least a little bit?

a page-turner and a sad, sad story

A little girl has Osteogenesis Imperfecta, otherwise known as Brittle Bone Syndrome.  (Remember the story arc in 30 Rock where Jack almost marries a woman with “Avian Bone Syndrome”?  Same sort of thing.)  So she breaks bones constantly, and this is the story of how her mom, dad, and sister all deal with it.

I couldn’t put it down.  The characters are complex and interesting, dealing with difficult decisions and conflicting loyalties.  I imagine that many people with children that have severe disabilities struggle with some of the same issues.  Perri Klass, a pediatrician reviewing the book for the Washington Post said, “It’s well written, it’s conscientiously researched and, most important, it presents a character who is a child instead of a disability personified … [It] is a great read, with strong characters, an exciting lawsuit to pull you along and really good use of the medical context.” [1]

And yet, in the end, if I were to recommend a sad book to someone, I’d recommend A Fine Balance, by Rohinton Mistry, or Inheritance of Loss, by Kiran Desai, or The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, by Michael Chabon (which isn’t strictly sad but has definite sad parts; I cried several times).  I never got to tears on this one.

I probably won’t read any more Jodi Picoult, but I don’t regret having read one.  (This is the third book I’ve read from Stephen King’s recommended summer reading, published in Entertainment Weekly in May 2009, after Quinn’s Dog On It and Steinhauer’s The Tourist.  So far King is 3 for 3.)

 [1] Perri Klass, “A ‘Wrongful Birth’ Lawsuit, A Mother in Anguish,” Washington Post, 3 March 2009.

Facebook is supposed to be a social network, but the truth is, most people I know who use it – me included – spend so much time online tweaking our profiles and writing graffiti on other people’s walls or poking them that we never leave our computers to actually socially interact.

from Jodi Picoult’s Handle With Care, p125, which I’m reading because Stephen King recommended it on his Summer Reading list and I enjoyed the first two so much. It’s a weeper, though, and a part of me says, if you want to cry during a page-turner, go read Rohinton Mistry’s A Fine Balance or Michael Chabon’s The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay. Both weepers but excellently written; not that Picoult isn’t engaging.

“We will call this Pooh Corner.  And we will build an Eeyore House with stick at Pooh Corner for Eeyore.”

“There was a heap of sticks on the other side of the wood,” said Piglet.  “I saw them.  Lots and lots.  All piled up.”

“Thank you, Piglet,” said Pooh.  “What you have just said will be a Great Help to us, and because of it I could call this place Poohanpiglet Corner if Pooh Corner didn’t sound better, which it does, being smaller and more like a corner.  Come along.”

from AA Milne’s The House At Pooh Corner, p10-11