Girl Detective

Time magazine recently released a list of the 100 best novels since 1923. Thanks to Blogenheimer for the link. Blogenheimer also includes a link to this Morning News article that included dissenting opinions, including one by someone who contended that 1984 was not as good a novel as Harry Potter.

Most of the quotes from the Morning News are easily laughed at. Yet what isn’t obvious, to me, at least, is why Zadie Smith’s White Teeth, which was a good first novel in my opinion, certainly not a Great Novel, was on there while other novelists like Michael Chabon and Joyce Carol Oates did not appear at all. I’m sure there are many, “why this and not that?” arguments that can be made, because best-of lists are dubious things, created more to stoke sales and promote controversy than for any value themselves.

I had a recent email exchange with the author of Mental Multivitamin in which we discussed whether there is a difference between great and good novels, and whether its snobbery to say so. I attended a talk once by film director Peter Greenaway. He marked a distinction between art for enjoyment, and art for pleasure. The former was simple; the latter complex. Are these distinctions false, and merely subject to individual taste, as the critic of 1984 contends?

My own conclusion is that there is a difference, but it’s hardly black and white. There’s lots of gray middle ground. And I don’t think it’s snobbery to make a distinction, but I know it will be called so.

What think you, readers? Is there a difference between great and merely good novels, and is it snobbery to say so? Does the Time list have any worth?

#82 in my book challenge for the year, The Panic-Free Pregnancy, was recommended to me by a food critic, because it debunks common pregnancy myths such as “don’t eat sushi.” (Why? Sushi may cause food poisoning, but not listeria, the only kind of food poisoning that can cross the placenta. Ditto for rare meat.) The book is divided into sections of pre-, during, and post-pregnancy. I found it most effective in the “during” sections for things like what drugs are safe. The author, a doctor and researcher, debunks many commonly held beliefs such as avoiding ibuprofen entirely, and avoiding cold medicines. One of the most interesting factoids he attacks is the “8 glasses of water a day” rule. According to him, there is absolutely no study or test to back this up. It was put out as a nutritional guideline at one point, and people adopted it and now never question it. Instead, he advocates drinking if you’re thirsty. What a concept.

The book is useful, but it’s not world-shaking. Ultimately, much of what he says is common sense, and much of it is able to be found elsewhere. It upholds some of the common advice, such as avoiding deli products, soft cheeses and blue cheeses for listeria. He also is not able to confirm that topical creams that contain retinol are safe, so there are still plenty of common things that are off the list for pregnant women.

This book should be used with caution. A topic can be discussed in a few places, not all of which are listed in the index. For example, in one discussion of listeria that’s not in the index, he recommends avoiding blue cheeses, but not in any other. Additionally, my doctor disagreed with his assertions about ibuprofen. She agreed that it might be used occasionally as needed early in pregnancy, but said that the further on in pregnancy one goes, the more of a detrimental effect it has on the circulation of the developing fetus. Broder’s book is more cavalier than cautious on this point. While this book sells itself as the grain of salt that one should take with the conventional wisdom about what to do or avoid during pregnancy, it should also be used cautiously.

#81 in my book challenge for the year is What I Loved by Siri Hustvedt. It is well-written, with strong characters and a compelling story. It centers around the friendship between Leo, an art historian, and Bill, an artist, and their loves, their children, and their tragedies. The novel also includes a lot of art history and feminist theory, but these are always used in service of the story. They enhance the understanding of the characters, as well as the reading experience.

Twin Citians, did you go? I did, and had a great time. I attended a morning talk by Siri Hustvedt, in which she read from her new book of essays on art. She talked about Goya and Giorgione. Both her book and her discussion were intelligent yet accessible, even for this art novice. I am nearly finished reading her novel What I Loved, and will have more to say about it when I do. (I try not to talk about a book until I’m done, but I’m really enjoying it.)

I was late to the talk by Audrey Niffenegger, the author of the huge bestseller The Time Traveler’s Wife. She was discussing her new work, which is actually an old work begun before her successful novel, an “illustrated novel” called The Three Incestuous Sisters. The art looked lovely, and the process to produce the book sounded daunting, but I left the talk unconvinced that I would enjoy either of her works that she discussed.

Finally, I attended a dual talk with Alison McGhee and Pete Hautman, two authors who write both for adults and teens. McGhee has also written picture books and a middle grade novel, and is currently collaborating with another author on what she called a Frog-and_Toad-type chapter book. Both said they resist labels such as “young-adult” or “Minnesota” author. McGhee clarified, though, that Minnesota is a great writing community. Both agreed that getting paid in advance for a book can be a disincentive to finish it. McGhee encouraged writers to practice their craft in preparation for trying to publish, rather than sending off a rough manuscript. Both were well-spoken, intelligent, and the excerpts they read from their new teen novels were quite good.

This is the second year I’ve attended, and I was even more impressed this year. If you missed it, and you’re a reader or writer in the Twin Cities, keep it in mind for next year. This was a great event, and I think it exemplifies why Minnesota is such a good reading and writing community.

#80 in my book challenge for the year, Godless by Pete Hautman is teen fiction and won a National Book Award this year. Hautman is a Minnesotan writer and will be presenting at this Saturday’s Twin Cities Book Fest.

Godless describes Jason Bock, a Minnesotan teen forced by his parents to attend weekly meetings for Catholic teens. Bored during class, Jason decides to invent a god, and he seizes on the local water tower. As he shares his notion with friends and acquaintances, they ask to join his new religion. Difficulties ensue. Jason and his friends are sparely drawn in this short novel, yet they are likeable and believable, and Jason’s crisis of faith rings true. This is a good story, and a good book for any teen or adult who has struggled with the faith in which s/he was raised.

#79 in my book challenge for the year, Hosseini’s book The Kite Runner is a darling of women’s book clubs. Women’s book clubs are often derided as being earnest but not erudite; I felt similarly about this book. I am meanly tempted to do a one-word review: overdetermined. But that would both be unkind and unfair. Hosseini’s book has merit. It is the story of two boys in pre-war Afghanistan. One boy is rich, entitled and longing for his father’s love, the other boy is a persecuted minority, but honest, noble, and the deserving recipient of admiration from both his own father and that of the other boy. (See what I mean about overdetermined? And that’s just the set up.) The rich boy does a Bad Thing, and the relationships are severed, just as war begins to divide the country. The rich boy eventually gets the chance to atone for the Bad Thing. This book works very well as a portrait of pre- and post-war Afghani culture. The central story, though, did not draw me in.

It did remind me, though, to re-read an essay called “Naji’s Taliban Phase” which originally appeared in The New York Times Magazine, and was collected in the 2002 edition of The Best American Nonrequired Reading. I do recommend both the essay and the collection.

#78 in my book challenge for the year, Sweetblood a teen novel about vampires, is a short, satisfying read. Lucinda, or Lucy, is a diabetic high-school student with a theory that the legends of vampires grew from observing untreated diabetics. Lucy dyes her hair black and spends a lot of time thinking about vampires, though she doesn’t identify as a goth. Lucy’s appearance and vampire theory get her in trouble both at home and at school.

Hautman skillfully balances the question of whether vampires are real with the realistic struggles of Lucy with her diabetes and in her relationships. Lucy is a believable teen with a strong voice. Fans of Buffy the Vampire Slayer will likely enjoy this book.

#77 in my book challenge for the year, Snap is a children’s novel for grades five to eight, but I found nothing childish about it. McGhee’s usual lovely prose and complex characters were present, as was the town of Sterns in the Adirondack mountains. It is a profound pleasure to visit Sterns in McGhee’s books, even if the stories are so often sad.

Snap is narrated by Edwina, an almost seventh grader who goes by Eddie. She wears rubber bands around her wrist to try and tame bad habits. Her best friend Sally’s grandmother and caretaker, Willie, falls ill, and both Eddie and Sally must try to deal with their sadness. This is a bittersweet, short book that is profoundly respectful of its young readers. It does not pretend that loss and complicated families are any easier than they are.

#76 in my book challenge for the year, Invisible is a teen-fiction novel by Minnesotan Pete Hautman, who will be appearing at the Twin Cities Book Fest on October 15. Hautman’s previous book, Godless, won the National Book Award. He writes for both adults and teens.

Invisible is narrated by Dougie, and it a spare, disturbing book. Dougie’s spends most of his time working on building a bridge for his model train. His best friend is popular, football-player Andy. From the beginning, I knew that things aren’t right with Dougie. The book is all the more uncomfortable because I could also identify with the “mean” kids in high school who persecuted him. Dougie is so weird that I could easily see why he was picked on. Hautman skillfully tells the story, giving the history of Dougie and Andy’s relationship, and leading to what felt like a difficult but inevitable conclusion. Invisible reminded me of a shorter, less touchy-feely Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, but also an American teen-boy version of Muriel Sparks’s The Driver’s Seat. It was powerful, unsettling, and moving.

#75 in my book challenge for the year, this mini-series and its subsequent graphic novel collections are like historical fiction of the DC universe, so a sort of meta-fiction about DC silver-age heroes like Hal Jordan and Barry Allen. This is both a history and a new story, though, so seasoned comic book readers have something new to read for. It is incredibly dense, so much so that I understand, though am annoyed by, the need to put one story into two graphic novels. Cooke’s art is distinctive and well-suited to the type of tale he’s telling. Additionally, each issue is dedicated to the writers/artists who created the heroes of the tale, and it is a skillful tribute. Best of all, for someone like me who does not have an encyclopedic knowledge of comic book history, it unfolds in such a way that new readers can get to know a character before finding out which superhero s/he is, while more experienced readers can have fun identifying who’s who.

#74 in my book challenge for the year, Was It Beautiful? by Minnesotan writer Alison McGhee, was, in fact, startlingly beautiful. I put off reading this book for a long time because I was afraid it was too sad. I based this on my readings of her two previous books, Rainlight and Shadow Baby, both of which were wildly lovely and terrifically sad. This one was supposed to be even more sad, and I wasn’t sure I could cope. I should have trusted the writer.

Was It Beautiful? is the story of William T. Jones, a formerly happy man who has lost his son, his wife, and his cat to various forces in a short time. Unsurprisingly, William T. is no longer happy. But how he copes and how his story unfolds is mesmerizing. In the end his suffering, and that of those around him, is redeemed. Crystal, a chararacter from Rainlight, gets an increasingly significant role in this book, and I was pleased that Crystal got her share of redemption as well. McGhee’s characters are so good it’s almost scary. They’re like warm tapestries that I want to draw around me and snuggle into on a cold night.

#73 in my book challenge for the year was The Queen of Everything. This book had a lot of good things, and a lot of distractions. 17 year old Jordan’s father suddenly starts acting weird when he begins an affair with a married woman. The book foreshadows a lot of what is to come. Jordan isn’t able to talk to her friend, who she doesn’t actually like very much, or her mother, who she dismisses as a hippie. When she tries to talk to her grandfather, bad things ensue. Jordan’s voice is strong, and she is a believable teen, though sometimes quite unlikeable. Her romance with a bad boy is painfully drawn out. Additionally, she often quotes Big Mama, a woman who helped her in the aftermath of the difficulties with her father. Jordan’s relationship with Big Mama, as well as Big Mama’s salmon anecdotes, reminded me unpleasantly of the movie cliche of the “Mystical Negro” who has to explain life lessons to the sheltered white kid. What stood out most, though, was how the nasty situation with Jordan’s father was not dumbed down or glossed over. This book doesn’t talk down to its intended young-adult readers.

#72 in my book challenge for the year, Magic or Madness was recommended to me by Duff at Girlreaction, who sent me this link, noting “This sounds like something you’d like.” Isn’t it wonderful to have other kindred readers looking out for you? I certainly think so, and this book is a great example. I liked it a lot, and thought it a really good young-adult fantasy novel. Reason is a fifteen year old Australian girl who has been on the run with her mother Sarafina all her life. They’ve been running from Sarafina’s mother Esmeralda, who Sarafina claimed was an evil person who pretended magic was real. Now, however, Sarafina has been institutionalized, and Reason has to go live with her grandmother. She soon discovers that magic is real when she opens a door to New York City. She meets two other teens, Tom and Jay-Tee. Separately and together they must determine whether the adults in their life are trying to help them, or help themselves. The writing is strong, the characters are likeable, but the biggest strength of this novel lies in its ambiguity. There are no absolute answers given, so the reader is left to draw her own conclusions, along with Reason. This book clearly paves the way for a sequel, which I look forward to.

#71 in my book challenge for the year, Never Let Me Go was a recommendation of Michael Schaub at Blog of a Bookslut. I took Schaub’s warning and advice to read the book soon and not to read reviews of it beforehand, since it is a mystery of sorts, some of which is spoiled in reviews. It has been shortlisted for this year’s Booker prize. In the book, there are gradual unveilings rather than sudden surprises, both for the characters and for the readers. Ishiguro does a wonderful job of ensuring that the reader does not reach conclusions far in advance of the characters. It mainly focuses on the lives of three English school friends, Kathy, Ruth, and Tommy. It’s hinted at, then made clearer, that this story is science fiction/fantasy. Kathy’s narration is often emotionally distant, but the society that these three inhabit is all about distance and euphemism. The low-level emotions are well suited to the story. This book is beautifully written, with strong characters, a compelling story, and it pulled me through quickly to its end. The sci-fi/fantasy topic it centers on was handled so delicately and believably that it is chilling to think about, long after I have closed the book. There was a young adult novel on the same theme a few years ago that garnered awards and praise that I felt were based more on its challenging topic than on the quality of the book, which I found poorly written. (Follow this link to see, if you don’t mind the spoiler of what the theme is.) Never Let Me Go was a far more fulfilling read and complex examination of the topic, suitable for both adults and older teens.

Heads up to all readers and writers in the twin cities that the Twin Cities Book Festival is Saturday, October 15. It features well known writers both from Minnesota and beyond. I look forward to seeing local writers Alison McGhee and Pete Hautman, who write both adult and young adult novels.

#70 in my book challenge for the year, Tricked was a disappointment. It was one of the hyped graphic novels after the San Diego comic convention. I very much enjoyed Robinson’s previous series, Box Office Poison, which has been collected in a lovely edition by Top Shelf Productions. Some of what I liked about BOP was evident here, such as Robinson’s distinctive and iconic art, his snappy dialogue and the characters that are so well developed and true to life that I kept feeling like if I didn’t actually know them, I knew someone just like them. But Tricked fell apart for me under the weight of its central plot. Six characters’ stories are told alternately, until all of them come together near the end for a big occurrence. Few things about Tricked surprised me, and several things annoyed me. One character, an unstable loser who has stopped taking his meds, is supposed to be unlikeable. But he gets so much story and so many pages that he still becomes wearing. The most central character is Ray Beam, a jerk of a former music star who still milks his fame even though he’s been creatively inactive for years. A third is a guy who makes a living forging sports paraphernalia. It’s hard, but not impossible, to pull off a story that centers on an unlikeable character. But to have fully half of the main cast of six be unlikeable made the story often hard to engage with. Further, the other three main characters are all good-hearted women, so the story feels artificially balanced. If you loved Box Office Poison, there is much to like here, but if you haven’t read Robinson’s work before, I recommend starting with BOP before giving Tricked a try.

I recently saw a friend who complained I was posting too many reviews; she wanted to know more about what was going on in my life. I know the posts can get review-heavy, but I spend a lot of my time on books and movies, so the reviews are a reflection of what is going on in my life, at least in part.

I have also been asked more than once how I find the time to read, to write, and to watch movies in addition to caring for a toddler. The answer is simple, though it’s not easy. I set myself book and movie challenges because I did not feel I was reading or seeing movies enough. The reason I have a weblog is so I keep up a regular writing practice. I’ve moved these things to the top of my priority list, which means other things get moved down, or even bumped off.

I have time because I make time. I make time for these things by not doing other things. My father has a few favorite phrases, one of which is “everything is a compromise.” The older I get the more I see how true it is. I can write, or read, or watch a movie, but it means I don’t clean the bathroom, do laundry, obsessively check my email, surf the ‘net, or dabble in other hobbies. I used to play the flute and do counted cross-stitch projects. I got rid of these things because I wanted to focus on the things I already love, which include books, music, cooking, movies, television, and comics.

I’m able to finish books because I take time to read. I’m not a fast reader, but I am a consistent one. I read a little bit when Drake goes down for his nap, then again before I go to sleep at night. I take my book with me wherever I go, so if I have a spare moment I can get a little reading done. There are so many things that can distract me, but by eschewing some things and focusing on others, I have a life that better reflects what is truly important to me.

Salon has an excellent interview with Melanie Rehak, who has a new book out focusing on the history of Nancy, and the two women writers (neither of whom was Carolyn Keene; as a reader of this blog you would know that, right?) who largely authored the original books. Thanks to my husband G. Grod for sending me the link.

The character of Nancy annoys some feminists with her rich dad, fashionable clothes, and sporty roadster. I found these things distracting because they made it harder to relate to her, but they didn’t bother me. I liked the books a lot, read all the yellow hardcovers, as well as some of the older versions of the story from the library. I never liked her quite as well as I did Trixie Belden, but she is the original titian-haired sleuth, and she did have an important place on my bookshelf as a child.

Weird point of Nancy Drew/Hardy Boy trivia: if you’re in a used book store and there are multiple copies of the same book, take a look at the page count. At some point, the publisher put out shorter versions of the same books, both to save on paper and because they were for kids who didn’t need the finesse of all those extra words anyway (ha!). So if you’re buying old copies for yourself or your kids, be aware that there is more than one version of any story. Yes, there are the original, 1930’s era Nancy stories, in which she is sixteen and blond, and has a black housekeeper. These books are tough to read because of the racial stereotypes, but interesting as context for the series. But don’t assume that there’s just one version of the later Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys hardcovers–look for the longer, older ones.

#69 in my book challenge for the year, Other Electricities was highly recommended both at Blog of a Bookslut and The Lit Blog Co-op. It’s a collection of connected stories, narrated by different characters of a small town in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

He remembered reading fragments of a story from a National Geographic…Most of the story had been lost, but he was able to pick up on the leftover bits…With these points of reference he was able to reconstruct the story to his satisfaction. In a way, it was like reconstructing old fragmented poems, or like translating from one language to another, from a world of hard but sparse facts to a storyscape of soft, fulfulling fictions. P. 142

Taken individually, some of the stories are quite powerful, like the one of the title and “To Reduce Your Likelihood of Murder.” Monson’s stories were defiantly fragmented, and in the end what I wanted was that “storyscape of soft, fulfilling fictions.” What I found instead was a group of well-written, intriguing stories about characters who moved by too quickly for me to develop any deep attachment. The stories, like the town in which they are set, are chilly and harsh. This is not a novel in stories, and it is not a comforting book. But it is a well-written and challenging one, especially for those who love the short story form or experimental fictions.

The author of Mental Multivitamin is not a fan of memes, yet she put out a very meme-like challenge.

But a list of ten books that reveals something about you… that’s a challenge.

Ten books above all others that have shaped or even defined you.

I especially applaud her note that naming one’s ten favorite books is rather silly, if not impossible. In the spirit of taking up the gauntlet, and striving hard to pick ten and only ten, here are my picks in chronological order.

1. Trixie Belden #1: Secret of the Mansion by Julie Campbell. My mom gave this to me for Christmas when I was in third grade, and I was an immediate fan. I liked Trixie more than Nancy Drew because she seemed like a real person with a real family. I read both series, as well as the Hardy Boys, but my loyalty to Trixie never wavered, and my love for girl detectives was begun.

2. The Crystal Cave by Mary Stewart. My first Merlin book, which I read in fourth or fifth grade. Completely mesmerized me, and started a penchant for seeking out books before I was probably old enough to really “get” them.

3. Dragonflight by Anne McCaffrey. My cousin lent this to me when I was in seventh grade, and it was probably my first favorite fantasy novel. A girl and her very own telepathic dragon–what could be better than that? I read all the sequels, but stopped eventually when I got older and they got more terrible.

4. The Mysteries of Pittsburgh by Michael Chabon, which I read the summer after my sophomore year in college, is the book I credit with pulling me out of the non-literary diaspora. I read a lot, but it was almost all crap–bodice rippers, Steven King, bestsellers, stuff that I haven’t bothered to keep on my shelf. Chabon’s first novel was clever, funny, sad and human, and it made me want to be a better reader.

5. Weetzie Bat by Francesca Lia Block. I read this based on a recommendation in the late, lamented Sassy magazine. It showed me that young-adult books could be smart and beautifully written. I still love reading young adult novels and I’m getting my own young-adult manuscript ready to submit for publication.

6. Sandman #1: Preludes and Nocturnes by Neil Gaiman. One of several graphic novels and comics that my then-boyfriend gave me as an introduction to comics, and one of my lasting favorites. It’s proof that Watchmen and Dark Knight Returns, while both are excellent, aren’t for everybody; different gateway comics will attract different readers. Sandman’s 75 issues worked well as individual stories and as a whole. Literary, beautiful, mythical, with characters that live on in the mind and heart.

7. House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende. This was the book being read by a not-yet-then-close-friend’s book club. I saw a flyer for it on her fridge when I attended a party at her house. “Can I come, too?” I asked, and then was echoed by the English woman beside me, who would also become a close friend. I didn’t finish the book in time for the meeting, and didn’t love it even when I did, but becoming part of that book group was one of the most important intellectual and individual growth periods of my life. Yes, there are a lot of cliches about book clubs, but this was a group of smart, eclectic women who got together for food and we truly discussed the books. I taught myself to be a reader in that group. It also was the site of one of my proudest accomplishments–I got all of us to stop prefacing comments with “This may be stupid, but…” or “I’m sorry, but…” and to acknowledge that as intelligent women we shouldn’t be apologizing for what we had to say.

8. Possession by A. S. Byatt. One of the selections for book group that I did love, and the one that helped me realize I needed to quit my job and go back to grad school to study religion. It is poetry, prose, mystery, romance, and literature. It is a feast of a book.

9. I Don’t Know How She Does It by Allison Pearson
and
10. The Home-Maker by Dorothy Canfield Fisher (published by the wonderful and lovely Persephone Books).

Reading these, one after the other, helped me make another big life change. Pearson’s book is a funny yet wrenching story of a mother who tries and fails to have a successful business career and be the mother she wants to be. The Home-Maker is about a family whose parents switch roles when the mother has to become the breadwinner, and how that changes them all. The books were written decades apart, but the themes and difficulties are similar. Both helped me realize that Drake was not thriving in day care, and that I wanted to be home with him full time to see if it made a difference. It has, for both of us. Drake is happier and healthier, and I’ve found it easier to focus on my writing and mothering, priorities that were muddled when mixed in with my job.

I think you can tell by the list that I’ve been honest. I could’ve picked a lot more erudite books than the ones I’ve listed. I was also torn–there are a handful of books I had to leave off that also had special places in my life: Henry V, Flux by Peggy Orenstein, The World of Pooh, Bread and Jam for Frances, and Anne of Green Gables all were nearly on the list. But the ten above are the ones about which I felt most strongly, even if I didn’t like them or don’t think they’re good anymore, so they’re the ones that are there.

So, how about it? What ten books reveal something about you, and have shaped YOUR life?