The Last September by Elizabeth Bowen (thoughts)

I have waited far too long to discuss my first read for the Outmoded Authors challenge: Elizabeth Bowen's The Last September. This relatively domestic book is set in 1920s Anglo-Ireland, and the writing is quietly, unobtrusively beautiful. It follows one Anglo-Irish family, especially Lois. Lois is in her late teens or early twenties, and still trying to find herself. The various cast of characters that wander in and out of Lois' life cause her to examine her own values and goals.

The book's strength is its cast of memorable characters who all seemed to reflect my own hidden fears or desires. The other strength is that Bowen leaves something up to the reader. She's willing to hold back a little, requiring you to fill in a few of the blanks.

This book was a pleasure to read, rather like a contemporary Jane Austen (and I don't make that comparison lightly). I will definitely be hunting down more of Bowen's work, and I hope that they're all this good! I highly recommend me this to everyone who likes domestic fiction and good writing.

Favourite Passages

A thought that fifty years hence she might well, is she wished, be sitting here on the steps, with or without rheumatism-having penetrated thirty years deeper ahead into time that they could-gave her a feeling of mysteriousness and destination. And she was fitted for this by being twice as complex as their generation-for she must be: double as many people having gone to the making of her. (36)

He had seemed annoyed at her being young when he wasn't. She could not hope to explain that her youth seemed to her also rather theatrical and that she was only young in that way because grown-up people expected it. She had never refused a role. She could not forgo that intensification, that kindling of her personality at being consiered very happy and reckless even if she were not. She could not hope to assure him she was not enjoying anything he had missed, that she was now onconvinced and anxious but intended to be quite certain, by the time she was his age, that she had once been happy. (40)

Laurence achieved this escape by sitting always with a social alert expression between two groups; when one tried to claim him he could affect to be engaged by the other. (54)

Lois was forced to state that there was a man in the Rutlands, a Gerland Lesworth, whom she had found affecting. She supposed there was no question as to his being intrigued; people seemed to notice. So Viola wrote back, she must hear all about him, should have heard before; her Lol was really the final Sphinx. She wanted to know, to see, to hear him, even to smell him-because all the nicest men did smell, didn't they, indefinitely but divinely. (69-70)

"Gerald is so matter-of-fact. Nothing could make him a tragedy." (91)

"Hugo, how could you let her get so wet!"
"My dear, I am not an umbrella." (129)

The mill startled them all, staring light-eyed, ghoulishly, round a bend of the valley. Lois had to come hurrying up to explain how it frightened her. In fact, she wouldn't for worlds go into it but liked going as near as she dated. It was a fear she didn't wat to get over, a kind of deliciousness. (178)

Visitors took form gradually in his household, coming out of a haze of rumour, and seemed but lightly, pleasantly superimposed on the vital pattern till a departure tore great shreds from the season's texture. (200)

Impressed by the strangeness, by this pressure of emergency, Lois plaited her hair in two plaits instead of one and felt herself a different woman. (274)

Playing Catch-Up

These last few days have been pure craziness; barely any time for me to drink a cup of tea and read a book, much less time to flop into my armchair here and write a post. So, here's what I would have posted about in the last few days, if I'd had the time.

+The latest edition of Estella's Revenge is up! My favourites this time were the interview with the owner of The Sleuth of Bakerstreet, "The Unknown" (about one woman's realisation that she should pursue an MLIS-something I've been thinking about a lot lately), "Sure I Know the Queen" (which discusses first lines, and offers some for the reader's enjoyment), and "From the Bookshop" (a review). All of the articles were a lot of fun, and my TBR list is ever-longer from the great books discussed. Hop on over!

+Danielle pointed out in a comment on my previous post that Perez-Reverte didn't write The Shadow of the Wind. I was thinking of The Club Dumas and mixed up the titles! I'll be fixing this in the original post as well, but thought I'd point it out here. Poor Carlos Ruiz Zafon got short thrift-he's the truth author of The Shadow of the Wind.

+Submissions are open for the latest Book Carnival. As this one is all about spooky books, I'm sure most of us can find a post to submit! Dewey has the indepth info up over at her blog.

+Finally, Banned Books Week! I'm only half way through The House on Mango Street, as it has disappeared (don't tell the library). However, I did read The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier. I must say, I didn't enjoy it all that much. I found it to be an incredibly depressing view of human nature. But that's ok-I still read a banned book! The writing itself was good at least, and I didn't want to put it down while I was reading it. I was enjoying The House on Mango Street quite a bit until it disappeared, so I hope I can finish that one up.

Feeding the Addiction

I really, really need to take the link to Novel Challenges out of my blogroll. For those of you who haven't visited, Wendy posts about every reading challenge she comes across. I believe this makes her a pusher. And here's my latest hit:

the Seafaring Challenge. There are several reasons I'm joining this one:
+the button is just gorgeous, and I want it on my blog
+I never read nautical books, so it'll expand my horizons
+it has a really, really cool set up
+it runs from November to December, so it's after the R.I.P. II challenge and
+it gives me an excuse to use the word "swashbuckling," which has to be one my favourite words ever.

And now, for the book pool:
My library has many of the Master and Commander series (by Patrick O'Brian), so I'll definitely be reading the first of those. My library also has a handy-dandy reference book: Harbors and High Seas, which is an atlas for the series. Since I'm new to this genre, it should be helpful.

I also bookmooched The Nautical Chart by Arturo Perez-Reverte. I wasn't as entranced by The Shadow of the Wind as a lot of people seemed to be, but I did enjoy it. I want to give Perez-Reverte another chance to wow me!

I'm also eyeing my library's copy of Treasure Island, which sounds like a lot of fun! One of those classics I never read, and who can resist pirates? These three would earn me the rank of Commodore (see? I told you it was a neat setup)

If I want to go for Admiral, I have to squeeze in one more book. Fortunately, Danielle (a true ocean afficianado) has provided a great list of possibilities. From that list, I really like Birds of Prey by Wilbur Smith, and my library has a copy of it! Plus, Smith is South African. Along with the Spanish Perez-Reverte, this helps the challenge have a great international flavour. I might even go for the Super Special Admirality rank (kidding-I made that one up) and read The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle by Avi. Susan made it sound so appealing, and once again my library has a copy.

One of her 'extras' is Beat to Quarters by C.S. Forester, which is the first (publication-wise) of the Hornblower series. This series looks really good, but unfortunately this one isn't available at the library or bookmooch. :( My library does have the first (chronologically-wise) of the series, but I think it'd be neat to read them in the published order. We'll see.

There ends my list of swashbuckling heroes and dire ne'er-do-wells. Who else is willing to walk the plank? Argh. (hehe-I love this challenge already)

Short Story Sunday (and two book giveaways)

Wow-trying to visit all of the sites in the R.I.P. II challenge has been interesting; I have a feeling my blogroll's going to grow. I already try to read all of the reviews posted (of course, now I'm woefully behind), but there turned out to be quite a few blogs that hadn't posted reviews to the list. It was fun getting to see so many different styles of book blogging! Yes, I visited all the sites today; I was pretty much stuck in bed, so I alternately watched that documentary on the spelling bee (I was supposed to be watching a great Gregory Peck movie, but Blockbuster got confused), visited blogs, tried not to touch my nose (I got it pierced! not why I was bed-ridden), and read. I'm happy to report that I finished all my goals for September! Coming soon will a review of the summer quarter and a pile of books for October. :)

Before I get to the short stories, I'd just like to point out that there are a couple book giveaways going on right now. Superfastreader is giving away a copy of Auralia's Colors by Jeffrey Overstreet. All you have to do is fill out a simple form (name, e-mail, website) to be entered, and it's open to the whole world until Oct 5. :) Then, Gentle Reader over at Shelf Life is generously offering an extra copy of The World Without Us by Alan Weisman. For this one, just leave a comment by October 2nd.

And now, without further adieu, this week I read "The Idol of the Flies" by Jane Rice and "Judgement Day" by Flannery O'Connor. They were both on the longish side, and I have no idea why the second one was included in a horror anthology.

"The Idol of the Flies" by Jane Rice

I've never heard of Jane Rice (one of only two in the anthology), but her story was very disturbing. Basically, this little brat named Pruitt makes the lives of all the adults around him miserable for no apparent reason other than evil. He finds out their weaknesses and then shamelessly uses them to bring about hurt and sadness. He has this odd relationship with flies as well. I won't tell you the ending, but this story was quite difficult for me to read. I don't like stories about people who deliberately hurt others; it makes me just too sad. It was well-written, however. My favourite passage in this one gives away the ending, so I won't share it here.

"Judgement Day" by Flannery O'Connor

As I said before, this one didn't really seem like a horror story at all. The weirdest it gets is a dream, but it's not like the dream comes true or anything! This was my first story by O'Connor, and I was very distracted by the constant use of the n-word. I know that this is an issue for a lot of people in her writing, and I expect that if I were to read a collection of her short stories I'd grow used to it, but as it was it felt like I got a little shock each time I read one. When I read, I hear my inner voice reading aloud in my head, which was what made it so difficult. Honestly, I can't say that I got a very strong impression of what the story was about with that constant distraction. Nevertheless, the writing style itself was quite strong, and I definitely plan on reading more of O'Connor one day.

Ok-I'm being a bit rambly tonight: probably the pain killers. Hope everyone had a good weekend!

The House Next Door (thoughts)

It's been awhile since my last R.I.P. II review! And, since my Little Black Poppet came in (he's currently nameless...it's taking awhile), and Carl's challenging everyone to bloghop, this post seems doubly appropriate.

I read The House Next Door by Anne River Siddons in one night: it's definitely one of those books that grabs you and doesn't let you go. Nevertheless, I have hesitations about recommending it, because it feels, well, evil. I was left with a very bad feeling that took about a day to dissipate. I suppose I'm just not used to horror novels like this, but I'd caution would-be readers that Siddons will get under your skin.

The book is told in first-person, and most of it is set in the recent past, with Col recounting all of the events that led up to her and her husband's decision to talk to People magazine (this is disclosed in the foreward; I promise, no spoilers here). Col lives in an affluent suburb outside of Atlanta, and she is very upset to hear that the plot next door has been bought, and that a modern-style house is going to be built there. The house goes through three families, which each make up a different part of the book, with each story getting progressively creepier. The last one involves an abusive husband, and it was at that point in the book that I began to feel almost physically ill. I know that might sound silly, but I had a very intense reaction; it certainly surprised me!

Eventually, Col and her husband realise that the house is evil; then they have to decide what kind of action to take to try to save future buyers from the house. I won't give away the ending, but it's definitely a good one.

So, there's a lot of positives about this book: it's written well (in his intro, which I didn't read until after I finished the novel, King calls the style Southern Gothic), the characters are interesting, the house is spooky, the plot compelling. Nevertheless, I really wish I'd never picked this one up. I don't even like looking at it; I'm hoping someone'll bookmooch it soon. Siddons did her job too well; while I'll definitely be looking at other books she wrote, I'm very glad this is the only work of horror in her oeuvre. Definitely gave me the shivers, so very R.I.P. II appropriate.

Favourite Passage
"If you think daugher and Daddy are creepy, you ought to catch the sonny-and-Mama show," Kim said. "The mother of the groom was there when I went to see Pie, and she couldn't keep her hands off poor old Buddy. Smoothing his hair, and straightening his tie, and saying what a soldier he'd been about the whole thing, and not once even looking at the bereft little mama, who was glaring daggers at her. She's the soldier in the family; looks exactly like Douglas MacArthur. And he was practically peeing on the rug with gratitude. If you ask me, there's something Tennessee Williams about the whole tribe of 'em." (60)

I Read Banned Books

Here's a mini-challenge that I'll definitely be participating in: Banned Books Week. Caliista is inviting everyone to read at least one banned book between September 29th and October 6th. She also provided a link to the ALA Banned Books project, and there I discovered a new thing to covet:

Banned Book Bracelets: kind of pricey at $18 (if your wrist is small like mine, you can get the $12 kid's one, but it has kids' books), I absolutely love the format of this one, but for some reason it's coming up as 'unavailable at this time.' Get your act together, ALA! They also have a super-cool tote bag. Tempting. Anyway, here's my possibilities pool (with any luck, I'll get to them all):

The Color Purple by Alice Walker
I wanted to read this for the Southern Reading challenge, but it managed to slip under the radar.

The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
I think I'm the only person who never read this. Interestingly enough, my library shelves this in adult fiction.

The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros
This one has been tempting me for awhile, so now might be a good time to fit it in!

Embers (thoughts)

I've been in a hardcore reading mood lately; I've read two books straight through (not even time to list them under 'Currently Reading') and I'm a third of the way through another. Thus, I have a plethora of books to discuss: seven, in fact. And all of them have been exceptionally good.

Nevertheless, Sandor Marai's Embers jumped to the front of the line. Why? Quite frankly, it contains some of the most stunning writing I've ever read. Marai is a Hungarian who, despite being exiled in America, only wrote in his native tongue. Considering that Hungarian happens to be one of the world's more obscure languages, this prevented his work from receiving much attention. Recently, his works have been 'rediscovered' and Knopf is bringing them out. Embers was the first to be translated into English (in 2001); however, it was translated from the German and French versions, not the original Hungarian. Knopf's subsequent releases (Conversations in Bolzano and The Rebels so far) are translated from the original.

While Ember's history makes the English feel a little choppy in the beginning, the translation soon straightens itself out, and by the first thirty pages I realised that I had come across something beautiful. In structure, it rather reminds me Ishiguro's Remains of the Day: a lot of first-person narrative, looking back over the past, all occassioned by a reunion with a long-lost companion. Both books had the same current of wasted life and regrts. While Ishiguro's book left the philosophy between the cracks up to the reader, however, Marai brings the philosophy out into the open.

The idea is simple: an old Austro-Hungarian General, living on his Hungarian estate, prepares to meet his closest friend after a gap of forty-one years. Actually, I'm going to just quote from the back of the book, "Over the ensuing hours host and guest will fight a duel of words and silences, accusations and evasions." This pretty much sums it up, except the word 'duel' is slightly misleading; the friend barely ever talks, so the last two-thirds of the book (it's only 200 pages long) are a monologue delivered by the General. And yes, as a septogenarian, the General indulges in quite a bit of philosophising.

But please don't let this scare you away! Along with the achingly-written philosophical passages, there's a plot that rather creeps up on the reader. Before I knew it, I couldn't put the book down, because I had to find out how it was going to end. I refuse to tell you anything about the plot, because Marai uncovers it slowly and masterfully; if you choose to read this book, I highly recommend avoiding any discussions of it until after you've finished it. Even the back cover, which I didn't read fortunately, contains a spoiler or two. The gradual climb in tension is exquisite. And if you aren't hooked by page fifty, I'd be shocked.

The ending of the book left me utterly satisfied; in fact, the entire book felt perfect. I came away with the same afterglow I felt after reading The Remains of the Day, slightly dazed by the author's skill.

I highly, highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys an author that appreciates his readers. That was a bit convoluted, but I think you get the gist. Marai has created a stunning piece of literature, and I want to read more by him very, very soon. A real treat, as well as a shorter read (it took me less than two hours). Check out the passages below to get a sense of his writing (I've put a spoiler alert before the very last one, which hints at part of the plot).

Favourite Passages:
...he thought only in decades, anything more upset him, as if he might be reminded of things he would rather forget... (6)

"For twenty-two years they have been living in this town which reeks like some squalid den where passing traders spend the night-a smell of cooking and cheap perfume and sour bedding. Here they live, and never utter a workd of complaint. For twenty-two years my father has not set foot in Vienna, where he was born and brought up. Twenty-two years and never a journye, never a new piece of clothing, never a summer outing, because I must be made into the masterpiece that they in their weakness failed to achieve in their own lives. Sometimes when I am about to do something, my hand stops in midair. This eternal responsibility. I have even wished them dead," he said very softly. (47)

"The truth is precisely what I don't know."
"But you know the facts," said the nurse sharply.
"Facts are not the truth," retorted the General. (73)

"The wind stirs, too, at this moment, gently, carefully, like the sigh of a sleeping man as he sense the return of the earthly reality into which he was born. The scent of wet leaves, of ferns, of crumbling tree trunks, of rotting pine cones, of the soft carpet of fallen leaves and pine needles slippery from the dew, rises up from the earth to assault you like the smell of two lovers locked in sweat-soaked embrace. A magical moment, which our heathen acnestors used to celebrate deep in the forest, worhsipfully, arms outstretched, facing East: earthbound man in the eternally recurring, spellbound expectation of light, insight, reason." (132)

"Ours was a friendship out of the ancient sagas. And while I walked in the sunshine of life, you chose to remain in the shadows." (139)

"I think that perhaps you have gone mad. I think perhaps it is the music. One cannot be a musician and a relative of Chopin and escape unpunished." (157)

"One always wants to repay the gods with some of one's good fortune. For it is well known that the gods are jealous, and that if they five a mortal a year of happiness, they immediately enter this debt on the ledger and demand repayment at the end of life with crippling interest." (162)

"Things do not simply happen to one...One can also shape what happens to one. One shapes it, summons it, takes hold of the inevitable. It's the human condition." (170)

"Since then I have never met a single person who responded so completely to everything: music, an early morning walk in the woods, the color and scent of a flower, the well-chosen words of an intelligent companion. Nobody could stroke a beautiful piece of cloth or an animal like Krisztina. Nobody took such pleasure in the world's simple gifts: people, animals, stars, books-everything interested her, not in any exaggerated way, not with apedantic outpouring of learning, but with the unprejudiced joy of a child reaching for everything there is to see and do. As if everything in the world was relevant to her, you know?" (176)

"I hate music....I hate this incomprehensible, melodious language which select people can understand and use to say uninhibited, irregular things that are also probably indecent and immoral. Watch their faces and see how strangely they change when they're listening to music." (178)

"Yes-revenge. That is why I neither killed myself nor allowed others to kill me, and that is why I have not killed anyone myself, thank heaven. The time for revenge as come, just as I have wished for so long. My revenge is that you have come here across the world, through the war, over mine-infested seas, to the scene of the crime, to answer to me and to uncover the truth together. That is my revenge." (183)

"What do you think? Do you also believe that what gives our lives their meaning is the passion that suddenly invades us heart, soul, and body, and burns in us forever, no matter what else happens in our lives? And that if we have experienced this much, then perhaps we haven't lived in vain? Is passion so deep and terrible and magnificent and inhuman? Is it indeed about desiring any one person, or is it about desiring desire itself? That is the question. Or, perhaps, is it indeed about desiring a particular person, a single, mysterious other, once and for always, no matter whether that person is good or bad, and the intensity of our feelings bears no relation to that individual's qualities or behavior?" (211)

**spoiler: don't read the following quote unless you've already read the book**

"She died because you went away and because I stayed but never once went to her, and because we-the two men to whom she belonged-were more despicable and proud and cowardly abd arrogant and silent than a women can bear; we ran away from her and betrayed her by our survival." (209)

Mariette in Ecstasy (thoughts)

In keeping with the cloistered theme, I thought I'd spend today discussing Ron Hansen's Mariette in Ecstasy. I first read about this book on the Duke alumni reading club (no, I didn't go to Duke; I can't remember how I found out about the club). It sounded good, but also kind of obscure, so I didn't think anymore of it. Then, when I was looking for books for the Book to Movie challenge, this was on the list; I checked with my library, and I was able to ILL (for free!) a copy. Thus, I had high, but vague, expectations as I opened it up.

I knew that the book was set in a convent, in the early 1900s, in upstate New York. I also knew that a young girl would enter the convent, and apparently experience mystical religious acts. That was about it.

The best and most surprising feature of the book was the style; Hansen uses everything from lists to journal entries to interviews to simple third person narrative to tell the story. The book feels like a collage. In lesser hands, this could have been a disaster, however Hansen really pulls it off. The first things the reader sees are a "Directoire des religieuses du Couvent de Notre-Dame des Afflictions" (a list of all the convent members, with their age and job) and a schedule of "The Winter Life of the Sisters of the Crucifixion." In addition to instantly creating an atmosphere for the reader, these lists come in handy throughout the story as references; it was quite nice of Hansen to put them up front so I didn't have to search for them. Then, the reader is led into the story through a series of observations, rendered in simple, standalone sentences, that feels like a mediation.

Limestone pebbles on the path in the garth. Jasmine. Lilac. Narcissus

Mother Celine gracefully walking, head down.

Crickets.

Mooncreep and spire.

Ears are flattened to the head of a stone panther waterspout.

Slowly, the sentences become paragraphs and characters are introduced. The effect of this writing, for me at least, was to really slow me down. I began to concentrate on every word of the story, and I built up quite a detailed mental image of the convent.

The main plot arrives when Mariette Baptiste enters the convent as a postulant. She takes her devotion very personally, carrying on a personal relationship with Jesus, and wanting to suffer as he suffered. She's also beautiful, and at just seventeen, some of the older nuns feel quite wary of her. As the book wears on, Mariette's experiences become more and more extreme; the nuns divide into two camps: either Mariette is a saint or a shameless faker. Meanwhile, the resident priest is trying to discover if a miracle truly has occured.

Essentially, Mariette in Ecstasy is a study of group relationships. It's fascinating to watch the various nuns take sides, to hear what they say and why, and to see the convent's atmosphere become poisoned. Hansen does an incredible job of sweeping the reader into this, so that you feel the discomfort of the priest, the skepticism of the nuns, the pure belief of Mariette. The writing throughout the book is powerful, and the only reason it didn't get 5 stars was the ending. Hansen didn't really seem sure what to do about it, which was a little frustrating.

Nevertheless, I'd highly recommend this book to everyone. It's a short read (179 pages in hardcover) and definitely a page turner. The characters are sharply drawn, but Hansen is one of those authors who trusts the reader, and leaves gaps for her to fill in. My favourite kind of book-engaging, thoughtful, fascinating. It will echo in my mind for some time.

A Morbid Taste for Bones (thoughts)

I read A Morbid Taste for Bones by Ellis Peters as part of the Unread Authors Challenge. I had mooched it awhile ago, based on several bloggers liking it, and then it languished on my shelves until this challenge brought it up!

Morbid Taste is the first in a series of medieval mysteries, centering around Brother Cadfael, a fifty-something monk who used to be a crusader. Now retired to a quiet life of praising God and gardening, Cadfael demonstrates a profoundly pragmatic outlook on life. In this book, the reader follows him to his native Wales, with a group of monks who are on a quest to recover the remains of Saint Winifred and bring the bones back to the monastery. When murder strikes in the small village, Cadfael must single-handedly find the killer, restore some people's reputations, and play match-maker. Fortunately, he's up the challenge!

When I began this book, I was very concerned. Quite frankly, it was rather dry; I prefer my mysteries to be on the entertaining side. I was all ready to be disappointed, but when I got to about page 50, the pace suddenly picked up. Several very likeable characters were introduced, subtexts began flying, and I couldn't turn the pages fast enough. This is a short book, at just under 200 pages, and I savoured the reading. Once Peters finds her groove, Cadfael is a really fun 'detective,' paternally supporting his friends and quietly laughing at his self-important fellow monks. I also loved that it was set in Wales. I mean, I never get to go to Wales in books!

I must confess, a large part of the appeal to me was the monks. When I was little, I was quite sad that girls couldn't become Jesuit priests, as that seemed the ideal career(yes, I was raised Catholic), and I always felt that if I'd lived in the Middle Ages, I would have been a monk. I don't know why I have such a fascination for them, but I certainly do. The Middle Ages is also my favourite age in European history, so I was quite excited to find a series set in that time period!

Ellis Peters, it turns out, is the pseudonym for Edith Parteger, a Brit who wrote extensively (more on her interesting life). There are a total of twenty Brother Cadfael books, and as the author has passed away, there are no more to look forward to. However, the nineteen should occupy me for some time.

As you might have noticed in my reviews for the Summer Mystery Challenge, I am quite picky about my mysteries. I love Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers; I need to read more Ngaio Marsh. Last Christmas, I discovered Laurie King's Mary Russell series (see bookeywookey's excellent thoughts on the first one), and that quickly became a favourite. This summer, I found myself really liking P.D. James. All of these authors have several things in common: tight plotting, somewhat 'cozy' (James is the closest to thriller), compelling characters, and damn good writing. I'm happy to say that Ellis Peters has now made it on to my short list of dependable mystery writers. If you enjoy well-written mysteries, or the Middle Ages, I'd highly recommend giving A Morbid Taste for Bones a try!

Death at the Priory and Misc.

First of all, Stephanie is having a book giveaway! Aren't they just the best? (note to self: have a book giveaway on one-year anniversary) This one is for a copy of Veil of Roses by Laura Fitzgerald, who is signing the copy.

And speaking of book giveaways, my prize for SQT's book giveaway came in today.

Whoot! It's a short story collection based on vampires and birthdays. Yet another addition to the R.I.P. II book pool! Thanks so much SQT. If y'all haven't visited her site, it centers on sci-fi and fantasy, so it's given me a bunch of new reading ideas.

And speaking of vampires (gosh, this post is going quite smoothly), I finished The Rest Falls Away. I also have a review typed up. However, I'm kind of nervous about publishing it. I enjoyed the book, but I also had some issues with the writing style. And it seems like everyone else doesn't have a bad word to say about it, and I don't want to be a wet blanket!

And on that note, I'm going to clunkily transition into tonight's review: Death at the Priory by James Ruddick. I read this for my ongoing non-fic challenge (also known as: Eva decides to torture herself for the rest of 2007). It was a short read, ending at page 189. I chose this book mainly because of its subtitle: Sex, Love, and Murder in Victorian England. And let me tell you, there was quite a bit of the first and last of those but not so much love.

First of all, I thought that a priory was where a member of the clergy lived. Apparently not. The priory in question was owned Florence and Charles Bravo, a newly wed couple whose *cough* marital bliss was ended by the fatal poisoning of Charles. The author, Ruddick, spends the first half of the book on the background of Florence and the events surrounding Charles' death; the second is devoted to Ruddick attempting to solve the crime. As much as I wanted to enjoy this book, about a crime that Agatha Christie called "one of the most mysterious poisoning cases ever created," I just didn't.

I felt that Ruddick went in a little too much for the sensational bits of the story, and he made wild generalisations about Victorian women that weren't backed up by any footnotes. I'm beginning to realise that an easy way to tell if I'm going to enjoy a non-fiction work is the length of the bibliography and the presence of footnotes or endnotes; this one is only three pages long, and it doesn't include *any* general works about Victorian history. That absence is definitely felt throughout the book. I also felt he was rather lurid; in the middle of a discussion about the power struggle between Florence and Charles, he suddenly tells the reader that

Florence made 'grave charges' against her husband over their sexual relationship, claiming that he 'engaged in a persistant line of conduct'. The conduct, it was convincingly alleged, was an*l intercourse.

What?! I mean, I don't think of myself as a prude, but I feel that Ruddick could have found a more tactful way to introduce the topic. He also discussed it quite a bit; while I understand that he finds in it an important motive for murder, since he never tells the reader *how* the conclusion that it even took place was drawn, I found his dwelling on it pretty excessive.

The other problem I had with it centered on part two: when Ruddick decides to figure out who did it via a close examination of the evidence. From the selective way he presents the evidence and, even worse, interprets them, the reader instantly sees his bias. He often defends his assumptions by calling them 'self-evident,' when I found an equally plausible alternative that was never discussed. Let me show you what I mean. When discussing the possibility that Florence's former lover, a doctor who gave the housekeeper a mysterious bottle of poison a bit before the murder, could have done it, Ruddick examines the trial transcript of the lover's testimony.

"Did you put tartar emetic [the poison] into the bottle which you gave Mrs. Cox [the housekeeper]?"
"I had no tartar emetic to place in the bottle. And any suggestion that I did so, from whatever quarter it may come, is a wicked and infamous falsehood."
"Have you ever sed antimony, in your professional capacity?"
"Not for thirty years, not since I went to Malvern. I have not had a grain of it in my possession since 1842."
"Did you have anything to do with Mr. Bravo's death, either directly or indirectly?"
"Upon my solemn oath I declare I had nothing to do with Mr. Bravo's death, either directly or indirectly."
It was a convincing rebuke, firm and forensic.

That last sentence is Ruddick's. I didn't see anything particularly stunning in that testimony; I mean, how many guilty men on the stand are like, "Oh, now that you mention it, I did murder him!"? Ruddick then goes on to offer the definitive evidence of the doctor's innocence:

I discovered that Gully [the doctor] had founded Worcestershire's first Co-Operative Society. He also donated to the poor. He had set up medical charities. I also discovered that he had become chairman of the local council. Everywhere I looked, I found public memorials enshrining his philanthropic character. Cora Weaver, a local historian, told me that when Gully had recovered from a serious illness in 1863, the entire population of the town threw a party to celebrate, parading through the streets, and finishing with an address at his front door. Under these cirumcstances it seemed ridiculous to believe that he was behind Bravo's death.

Because someone who donates to charity is incapable of killing a man? Especially a man abusing a former lover? Really? To me, that seems quite plausible.

That kind of fallacious argumentation made reading this book quite painful; I was internally shouting at Ruddick much of the time. I can't really recommend this book, either as a portrait into Victorian life (since Ruddick didn't do his research) or as a good true crime story. However, it has inspired me to look into the case a little more, in the hopes that a better treatment of it exists.

The Fatal Flaw

When I signed up for all of these challenges, I knew my own limits. After all, I thought to myself, I've been averaging 14 books a month this year, so I should be able to handle it. Ah, hubris. Because here's what I failed to consider: if all of the books I'm reading are for challenges, then I have to review them all. Oy. Currently, I'm two books behind, and the month is five days old. We'll see how this goes, shall we? Especially since I like writing non-review posts as well!

On the plus side, I've been very impressed with the blogosphere lately (not that I'm not always impressed). And I have some thoughts and links to share. :)

+First off, there's a Jane Austen reading schedule up at Brooklyn Arden. I've read all of Austen's works, most multiple times, and this calendar seems spot it; it has a book every two months and is mainly based on seasons.

+The new Estella's Revenge is out, and I very much enjoyed it. My favourite articles? "The Seven Deadly Reading Sins," "Confessions of a Closet Reader," "Confessions of a Hopeless Book Addict (Photo Essay)" (go bookfool!), and "Confessing a Literary Crush."

+Oh, and there was an interview with Mark Zusak (the author of the book that wrung my heart recently). Who knew how cute he was?! Good looking, reads, writes...I'm thinking I might have to move to Australia. ;)


+On an almost-unrelated topic, that last Estella article I mentioned segues nicely into an idea I've been toying with for awhile now. I even have a draft post to prove it. :) It's an idea for a challenge, but for sometime in 2008 (definitely including February), based on literary crushes. Something like "Swoonworthy Reads" (yep, corny, I know). I think it would be a lot of fun to compile a list of everyone's favourite crushes and then pick however many books to read. And of course I'd have to do something special for Valentine's Day. And I'm thinking at least one of the buttons would involve a certain wet-shirted gentleman we all know and love. ;) So, begin brainstorming all of your crushes! (of course, crushes on girl characters are welcome as well!)

+I guess I'll start with my first literary crush ever. That would be Gilbert from the Anne of Green Gables series. He was tall, intelligent, kind, but also mischevious. How could I resist the twinkle in his eye? I reread most of the series several times as a kid, and in the early ones I would get very, very upset with Anne for her treatment of him. But it all comes together in the end. :) Oh, that night when he was at death's door...I was afraid to get to the end of the chapter. What if L.M. Montgomery does the unthinkable? How awful would that be?! And relief flooded me as fully as it flooded Anne at sunrise. Whew. I might have to make this a regular feature leading up to the challenge; crush of the month. lol

+It's almost time for the next edition of the Bookworms Carnival. It's hosted at Book Nut, and its theme is classics. The deadline is September 14th; I'm not sure if the submitted posts have to be recent or not. As a shameless plug, I'll be hosting the December carnival with the theme of "non-fiction." (hmmm-I wonder why that could be?)

+Watch this space for: why Coraline confirms that Neil Gaiman is one of my favourite-est authors, my mixed feelings on The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon and how it might be connected to The Book Thief, and a pile of my latest bookmooches.

+Oh! And check out my thoughts on The Ghost Writer below this. I have the sneaking suspicion a lot of y'all would like it. :)

The Ghost Writer

Imagine that A.S. Byatt's Possession and Diane Setterfield's The Thirteenth Tale had a baby. Now imagine that Henry James agreed to play godfather, but Charles Dickens also popped in from time to time.

That baby's name is The Ghost Writer, and John Harwood is the proud papa. I read about this book on a blog; I used to think it was over at superfastreader's, but now a search on her site isn't bringing up the title. So if you've reviewed The Ghost Writer lately, let me know so I can give some credit. :) It duly went on the TBR list; then, the R.I.P. II challenge appeared, so I went off to bookmooch. There, I obtained a *gorgeous* copy (it looks like it's never been read before), and the cover has been teasing me for the past week. I mean, look at it:


I was planning on waiting awhile for this one, since I just finished my first R.I.P. II read; but, as Oscar Wilde puts it, "I can resist everything except temptation." Then, I was planning on reading it only at night; that would make it creepier and make it last awhile longer. But today was full of thunderstorms, and the baby took a really long nap, and that cover was just crying out to me.

I finished it about half an hour ago, but I wasn't go to review it; I was going to review a couple other books I finished earlier for other challenges. However, the perfect introduction formed in my head, so I had to run on over to blogger and share the news.

This book kicks ass.

For all of you who enjoyed The Thirteenth Tale, for its shamelessly gothic plot twists and book references, for all of you who loved Byatt's use of several distinct styles in Possession, I have someone I'd like you to meet.

The Ghost Writer tells the story of Gerard, an Australian librarian (told you it was for bookish people) who grows up on his mother's stories about her idyllic childhood in England. When he's thirteen, he gets a British penpal, Alice, who he tells about the mysterious photo and story he found hidden in his mother's vanity. The story was written by "VH," which happen to be the initials of his great-grandmother, Viola Hatherley; after Gerard finds the photo and story, his mother refuses to talk about England ever again. Meanwhile, Gerard and Alice become close friends, and Gerard decides to travel to England. While there, he explores the mystery of his mother's past, coming across more stories written by VH. As events get eerier and eerier, Gerard begins to wonder...is he going crazy? Or stuck in the middle of a ghost story?

The best part of this novel are VH's stories; they're all included, and take up 167 pages (of 369). Harwood has done a very good job of weaving them into the plot, but really these stories (they're all ghost stories) could stand alone in their own collection. They're just stunning (and very creepy); I hope that Harwood writes more of VH's tales in the future.

There are weaknesses to the book: sometimes Gerard seems incredibly dense (I was on to the twist by at least half way through, whereas Gerard can't figure it out until the very, very end) and the ending is quite abrupt. While I personally enjoy endings that leave a lot up to the reader to figure out, some people might feel annoyed. The ending definitely leaves room for a sequel, or related book, with more of VH's work, which made me very excited.

I realise that perhaps I should provide a sample passage from one of VH's stories, so that y'all can recognise the sudden obssession I have; the following is from "The Gift of Flight." The main character, Julia, was reading the the British Museums's Reading Room when she suddenly looked up and realised the room was blanketed in a thick fog. Then she hears someone sit down in the chair next to her...

Very slowly, keeping her eyes on the fog-bank between herself and her invisible companion, Julia began to ease herself off her chair, hoping to slip away silently in the other direction, towards the catalogue. Her chair creaked loudly, and as it did so the wall of fog to her left rose up like a curtain.
In that first glimpse, Julia was relieved, though startled, to discover that the chair beside her was occupied by a child, a little girl of no more than eight, with golden curls and pink cheeks, dressed in a starched white frock and petticoat. The reassurance lasted only an instant. There was something fixed and unnatural about the bright, smiling face turned towards Julia, and especially about the eyes, which had been slightly downcast, but suddenly opened wide with an audible click. They were the shoe-button eyes of a doll; the face looked as hard and rigid as porcelain; and yet the creature was alive, for it was swinging its legs around with evident intention of sliding off its chair and coming over to Julia.

Isn't the writing beautiful?

I'm very glad that I read The Ghost Writer for the R.I.P. II challenge; it almost seems like it could be the poster child for the challenge, since it's very gothic and focuses on ghosts. Another one I'd recommend to just about anyone; it's both literary and a page-turner. Gosh, it seems that so far the R.I.P. II challenge can do no wrong! Two great books down; I hope the other two can live up to them. :)

Something Wicked This Way Comes (thoughts)

I started off the R.I.P. II challenge with Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes. Thus, the first words to greet my eyes were

First of all, it was October, a rare month for boys.

Very appropriate! And the book just kept getting better.

I've never read anything by Ray Bradbury before; I haven't actively avoided him, but he wasn't on my TBR shortlist. I have a friend who's in (platonic) love with Bradbury, and who has corresponded with him for several years. Somehow, his enthusiasm never wore off on me. Now, I'm going to have to eat crow. Because Ray Bradbury can write. Man, can he write.

Wait, maybe I should back up a little. A quick, no-spoilers, no-details plot review is in order. A carnival comes to a sleepy, Midwestern town. But this is no ordinary carnival: it's supernatural, and very evil. Best friends Jim Nightshade and Will Halloway (born a minute after and a minute before Halloween, respectively) get on the wrong side of the carnival and find themselves locked in a battle of good and evil.

The book has an interesting feel to it; as you're reading, you almost feel as if you're hallucinating in parts. The point of view shifts between characters, and each character seems to go off on his (usually his) own thought tangents; the reader gets carried along for the ride. For example,

Boy, it's the same old thing. I talk. Jim runs. I tilt stones, Jim grabs the cold junk under the stones and-lickety split! I clumb hills. Jim yells off church steeples. I got a bank account. Jim's got the hair on his head, the yell in his mouth, the shirt on his back, and the tennis shoes on his feet. How come I think he's richer? Because, Will thought, I sit on the rock in the sun and old Jim, he prickles his arm-hairs by moonlight and dances with hoptoads. I tend cows. Jim tames Gila monsters. Fool! I yell at Jim. Coward! he yells back. And here we-go!

I very much enjoyed these digressions, since Bradbury is such an awesome writer. I think he can pull of stream-of-consciousness. :)

However, for those readers who prefer action to thought, there is a definite plot line to follow, and Bradbury provides a very satisfactory, concrete ending. As the book progresses, the plot picks up, and the dreamy sequences are cut to a minimum. The book also gets creepier and creepier, as the boys progress from feeling in danger generally, to being terrified of very specific people. Reading the book rather feels like following a triangle; from a very broad beginning, everything begins to narrow to a sharp point. This style increases the tension, and by about two-thirds of the way through it, there was no way I wanted to put it down.

**Note: the next two parts have very general spoilers, i.e.-they discuss events that happen pretty far along in the book. It doesn't give away the ending, but I thought I'd let you know nonetheless, in case you're planning on reading the book soon and want a complete surprise. The spoiler section ends at the photo.**

While I love both the boys, my favourite character was Will's father. He goes on an incredible journey through the book. When we first meet him, we're in the library...

Way down the third book corridor, an oldish man whispered his broom along in the dark, mounding the fallen spices...Will stared. It was always a surprise-the old man, his work, his name. That's Charles William Halloway, thought Will, not grandfather, not far-wandering, anciet uncle, as some might think, but...my father.

From these inauspicious beginnings, Charles becomes a kickass, evil-fighting, son-protecting super hero. Best of all, his main plan of attack: researching in the library! Charles is at home in the library, and Bradbury gives him his best soliloquays in those musty corridors. A short sample:

The stuff of nightmare is their plain bread. They butter it with pain. They set their clockes by deathwatch beetles, and thrive the centuries. They were the men with the leather-ribbon whips who sweated up the Pyramids seasoning it with other people's salt and other people's cracked hearts. They coursed Europe on the White Horses of the Plague. They whispered to Caesar that he was mortal, then sold daggers half-price in the grand March sale.

Speaking of the library, I loved how important it was to the book. The creepiest scene, by far, takes place there: Jim and Will are hiding from the Mr. Dark, aka The Illuminated Man, who runs the carnival, and who isn't happy with them. It's a five-page chapter of simple incredible writing. Unfortunately, I can't share it all. But here's a taste (no spoilers, I promise):

Somewhere in the recumbent solitudes, the motionless but teeming millions of books, lost in two dozen turns right, three dozen turns left, down aisles, through corridors, toward dead ends, locked doors, half-empty shelves, somewhere in the literary soot of Dickens' London, or Dostoevsky's Moscow or the steppes beyond, somewhere in the vellumed dust of atlas or Geographica, sneezes pent but set like traps, the boys crouched, stood, lay sweating a cool and constant brine.
Somewhere hidden, Jim thought: He's coming!
Somewhere hidden, Will though: He's near!
"Boys...?"

If that doesn't make you want to read the whole book, check out the best chapter ever:
To sum up: this was the perfect start to R.I.P. II. I love Ray Bradbury. Go read Something Wicked This Way Comes.

More Favourite Passages
They opened the door and stepped in.
They stopped.
The library deeps lay waiting for them.
Out in the world, not much happened. But here in the special night, a land bricked with paper and leather, anything might happen, always did. Listen! and you heard ten thousand people screaming so high only dogs feathered their ears. A million folk ran toting cannons, sharpening guillotines; Chinese, four abreast, marched on forever. Invisible, silent, yes, but Jim and Will had the gift of ears and noses as well as the gift of tongues. This was a factory of spices from far countries. Here alien deserts sulmbered. Up front was the desk where the nice old lady, Miss Watriss, purple-stamped your books, but down off away were Tibet and Antarctica, the Congo. There went Miss Wills, the other librarian, though Outer Mongolia, calmly toting fragments of Peiping and Yokohama and the Celebes. (13)

It was the silence that made Will pull back, even as Jim leaned forward, eyes moon-bright.
A carnival should be all growls, roars like timberlands stacked, bundled, rolled and crashed, great explosions of lion dust, men abalze with working anger, pop bottles jangling, horse buckles shivering, engines and elephants in full stampede through rains of sweat while zebras neighed and trembled like cage trapped in cage.
But this was like the old movies, the silent theater haunted with black-and-white ghosts, silvery mouths opening to let moonlight smoke out, gestures made in silence so hushed you could hear the wind fizz the hair on your cheeks. (51-2)

Will slung off lim-falling clothes with tipsy arms and delightfully aching legs, and like a fall of timber chopped himself to bed... (140)

"For some, autumn comes early, stays late through life where Octoboer follows Septmeber and November touches October and then instead of December and Christ's birth, there is no Bethlehem Star, no rejoicing, but September comes again and old October and so on down the years, with no winter, spring, or revivifying summer. For these beings, fall is the ever normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. Where do they come from? The dust. Where do they go? The grave. Does blood stir their veins? No: the night wind. What ticks in their head? The worm. What speaks from their mouth? The toad. What sees from their eye? The snake. What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars. They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenxy forth. In gusts they beetle-scurry, creep, thread, filter, motion, make all moons sullen, and surely cloud all clear-run waters. The spider-web hears them, trembles-breaks. Such are the autumn people. Beware of them." (192-3)

Short Story Sunday (Radcliffe and Shelley)

One of Carl's perils for the R.I.P. II challenge was to discuss scary short stories every Sunday. Mine will come from Witches' Brew, a collection of gothic and scary stories by women writers. There are seventeen stories, so I'll discuss two or three a week. In the collection, they're arranged in chronological order, and I think this is a good way to approach it. That way, I can watch styles evolve. :)

This week, I read "The Haunted Chamber" by Ann Radcliffe and "The Last Man" by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley. Both of these women are known for their gothic works: Radcliffe brough the genre to popularity with works such as The Mysteries of Udolpho, and Shelley created a horror legend with Frankenstein.

"The Haunted Chamber" by Ann Radcliffe
I haven't read any of Radcliffe's novels (although I know a little about them from Northanger Abbey) so I wasn't sure what to expect. "The Haunted Chamber" is about eighteen pages long, and it tells the story of Ludovico who agrees to spend then night in the haunted wing of a chateau and duel the spirits within (he actually receives a sword to do this). Within that plot, Radcliffe provides readers with another ghost story, since Ludovico has chosen (wisely?) to occupy himself with a book of Provencal folktales. I found myself both disappointed in and enjoying Radcliffe's style. I enjoyed her descriptions of the chateau, and the way she structured passages. However, I needed more specifics. Instead of just having the servants scared and screaming, I wanted to see a ghostly lady, or something like that. At one point, we do hear music, and voice so exquisite as to appear un-human, but that's the only specific haunting in the story. I wanted the hairs on the back of my neck to rise, and they never did. Also, in a little footnote at the end of the story, Radcliffe explains away all the ghostly incidents with a Scooby-Doo feeling revelation. I thought it would have been a better story without that! Nevertheless, I think that I'd really enjoy Radcliffe in novel form, so I'll definitely be picking up some of her books.

Favourite Passage:
...this led to the question, whether the spirit, after it has quitted the body, is ever permitted to revisit the earth; and if it is, whether it was possible for spirits to become visible to the sense? The baron was of opinion, that the first was probably, and the last was possible; and he endeavoured to justify this opinion by respectable authorities, both ancient and modern, whih he quoted. The count, however, was decidedly against him; and a long conversation ensued, in which the usual arguments on these subjects were on both sides brought forward with skill and discussed with candour, but without converting either party to the opinion of his opponent. The effect of their conversation on their auditors was various. Though the count had much the superiority of the baron in point of argument, he had fewer adherents: for that love, so natural to the human mind, of whatever is able to distend its faculties with wonder and astonishment, attached the majority of the company to the side of the baron...

"The Last Man" by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
This is a post-apocalyptic tale, set in France. The survivors of a massive plague have banded together and are walking from Versailles to Switzerland, but really just passing time until they too die. Over the course of their trip, their numbers are reduced from 1500 to 50; meanwhile, they have several spooky encounters which end up having rational explanations. Finally, the meat of the story, is the ending; the survivors find a lone girl playing the organ for her blind father, who isn't aware of the plague that has decimated everything around him.
Shelley painted an effective picture of people coming to terms with the inevitably of death, both of themselves and their loved ones. Really, the story seems an meditation on the tragic insignificance of people. This one really touched me, especially knowing some of Shelley's background. Her own life was surrounded by so much death, I think she had a unique ability to draw this kind of world. In fact, I wish that this short story was at least a novella; it's rich enough in material to warrant that.
Favourite Passage:
But the game is up! We must all die; nor leave survivor nor heir to the wide inheritance of earth. We must all die! The species of man must perish; his frame of exquisite workmanship; the wondrous mechanism of his senses; the noble proportion of his godlike limbs; his mind, the throned king of these; must perish. Will the earth still keep her place among the planets; will she still journey with unmarked regularity around the planets; will the seasons change, the trees adorn themselves with leaves, and flowers shed their fragrance, in solitude? Will the mountains remain unmoved, and the strems still keep a downward course towards the vast abyss; will the tides rise and fall, adn the winds fan universal-nature; will beasts pasture, birds fly, and the fishes swim, when man, the lord, possessor, perceiver, and recorder of all these things, has passed away, as though he had never been? O, what mockery is this!

The Best Laid Plans

I was so excited to post on my bookpiles of TBR on September 1st. And then what happened? Yesterday seemed to slip away...

+my sister's in town, so that's super fun

+I got a great new hair cut!

+we run a lot of errands

+we watched a couple movies

Thus, the piles come to you a day late. I've divided them up into fic and non-fic-apologies for the bad lighting. For some reason, my overhead light refuses to turn on, and it's dark outside, so the only alternative is a flash. :)



Here're the plans for this month's non-fic, from top to bottom (all for my personal non-fic challenge):
Death at the Priory by James Ruddick: it's as close to cozy English mystery novel I can get to and still be reading truth. I've been looking forward to this for months!
Fast Food Nation by Eric Sclosser: I think it'll be an interesting read (I'm already a vegetarian, so I'm not sure how much it'll affect my eating habits); I'd like to get it done this month so I can get it back on bookmooch, and let someone else read it.
Reason For Hope by Jane Goodall: I plan on reading one memoir/biography a month, and I thought this one would be a good antidote to all of the creepy fiction I'll be reading!
Stiff by Mary Roach: after the disappointing Spook, I'm not expecting much the second go-round. I'd like to get this read so it can get back on book mooch as well. Plus, it seems very appropriate for the R.I.P. II challenge!
The Persian Puzzle by Kenneth Pollack: a continuation from last months' reading. I'm enjoying it, but the tiny print makes it a slower read.
Making War to Keep Peace by Jeane Kirkpatrick. I read about this in the NYT book review this weekend, and my library had a copy. Considering that I did a huge research project my senior of college on peace keeping, I think it'll be fun to read what Kirkpatrick has to say. :)

Now for the dessert side of this month's reading: fiction! Once again taking it from the top...

A Morbid Taste for Bones by Ellis Peters: one of my Unread Authors challenge selections. I think I'll be in the mood for a mystery at some point, and I've heard good things about this series. :)
Seven Gothic Tales by Isak Dinesen: one of my R.I.P. II choices. Don't you love the Gothic type font?! Very excited about this!
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman: a reread for the Reading the Author challenge. I'm looking forward to revisiting this; I haven't read it in a couple of years.
Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury: another R.I.P. II book, which I started last night (after midnight). I'm already entranced.
The Ghost Writer by John Harwood: I'm not sure if I'll get to this one this month or next (it's another R.I.P. II selection), but look at the creepy spine. How could I not include it in the pile?
The Last September by Elizabeth Bowen: for the Outmoded Authors Challenge. I'm excited to visit Ireland in the prewar years, on a plantation no less; it'll be a new experience for me!
Embers by Sandor Marai: for my personal Reading Across Borders challenge; this is a Hungarian novel. I love Vintage Press-their books are always so pretty. :)
The War of the Saints by Jorge Amado: a carryover from last month (I'm about a third of the way through), and another Reading Across Borders choice. So far, I'm loving it! Its happiness and hope is a good antidote to the spookier books.
Mariette in Ecstasy by Ron Hansen: for the Book to Movie challenge. I ILLed it, so I have to finish it by October 4th. It sounds interesting: a nun at a convent shows signs of, well, ecstasy. Is it real?
Witches Brew: my already-discussed source for the Sunday Short Story aspect of R.I.P. II (expect my first post later today). I probably won't finish it this month; I'll try to spread it evenly over the whole challenge.

Whew! I'm exhausted just thinking about my goals for this month! Well, I'm off to read more Bradbury; I'm only reading it at night, so as not to ruin the great writing with bright sunshine. Happy Labour Day weekend to all my fellow Americans. :)

Southern Reading Challenge Wrap-Up (and a confession)

First, my confession: I've begun reading for my September challenges two days earlier. I just couldn't help myself. However, I'm not going to talk about them or list them until tomorrow. :)

Maggie hosted the Southern Reading Challenge, where participants were expected to read 3 books set in Southern places and written by Southern authors between June 1st and August 31st. Meanwhile, Maggie provided a lot of info about Southern authors, gave away a whole bunch of pecans, and hosted a Sense of Place contest, where readers had to find a picture to match a descriptive passage in one of their Southern books. I finished all three of my choices...
Delta Wedding by Eudora Welty
The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
Cane River by Lalita Tademy

The best book: Delta Wedding, but I loved them all!
What book could I have done without? None!
Any new authors? All of them. :)
Books I did not finish: None!
What did I learn from this challenge? That reading Southern lit is great, and I should do more of it. :) Also, I learned quite abit about the Creole culture, which was neat.

(Note: thanks to Nyssaneala for the idea to have questions!)

Summer Mystery Challenge Wrap-Up

For the Summer Mystery Challenge, hosted at Reviewed by Liz, participants were requred to read books by six new-to-them authors between June 1st and August 31st. I completed six selections, with one substitution (James for Pears):

Secret History by Donna Tartt
From Doon with Death by Ruth Rendell
The Door by Mary Roberts Rinehart
Some Danger Involved by Will Thomas
Death in Holy Orders by P.D. James
Death at Bishop's Keep by Robin Paige

The best book: Some Danger Involved, followed closely by Death in Holy Orders.
What book could I have done without? The Instance of the Fingerpost by Iain Pears.
Any new authors? They're all new-that was the point!
Books I did not finish: Fingerpost.
What did I learn from this challenge? That it's ok to abandon a book if you're really, really not enjoying it. Also, I really want to read more by Thomas and James. Of course, the most important thing that I learned is that my favourite mystery writers really are better than most!

(Note: thanks to Nyssaneala for the idea to have questions!)

Famous Last Words

Remember how I said that R.I.P. II would be my last challenge? Well, then I visited Incurable Logophilia, and saw that the "Reading the Author" challenge is up. It starts in September and goes through 2007. You pick one author and read at least three books written by him/her. And I've decided to pick Neil Gaiman.

Why? A number of reasons...

1) I own all of his novels (and his first ss collection) except for American Gods and Coraline. This is a good excuse to plug that hole.

2) I've read all of the books I picked except for Sandman and Coraline. So, most of the challenge will be an excuse to indulge in rereading one of my favourite authors.

3) This is a good chance to try out this type of challenge on an old favourite. If it goes well, I'll try it out with other authors (short list? Walter Scott, Virginia Woolf, Toni Morrison).

And while we're on the subject of book lists, here're the short story collections that will furnish my Spooky Story Marathon end to the R.I.P. II challenge on Halloween:
The Blackstone Chronicles by John Saul
Haunted by Joyce Carol Oates
Magic Terror by Peter Straub
Strange Highways by Dean Koontz
and my personal favourite...The Oxford Book of Gothic Tales ed. Chris Baldick.

Am I certifiable? Perhaps. But I figure I might as well shoot high! I can always cut back on my non-fic reading. ;)

Potpourri of Thoughts

+I really need to do a review of Books on Books: I've recently completed both A Gentle Madness and How Reading Changed My Life. They were very different, in both length (80 pages v. 500+) and content. But both interesting.

+I'm trying to figure out how I feel about The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon by Richard Zimler. I just finished it after a marathon session; I realised that if I didn't force myself to read it to the end, I'd never finish. I think I'm going to let the story ferment in my mind for awhile.

+I'm putting together a pile of September's books, inspired by Danielle over at A Work in Progress. It should be a fun stack, considering all of the challenges that begin!

+I've thought of a supplement to the R.I.P. II challenge: marathon scary-story reading on October 31st. I have a list of short story collections available at my library that I'll post. Somehow, I think SS work a little better than novels for a marathon!

+I've decided to modify my personal non-fic challenge: instead of seven books/month, I'll read six books/month and completely read The Economist every week. I love it, and I've been neglecting it lately! Also, and this is super-cool, they're providing a free audio version of the complete magazine every week. So I can listen to it while I do yoga! (side note: I know that a lot of people do yoga for the meditative benefits, and listening to the news during Downward Dog sounds sacreligious, but I do yoga to help my muscles, and sometimes I get bored)

That about sums up what's going through my head right now. That, and when did August slip away?!

Book Pile and One Last Challenge...

I took a much-needed break from reading, blogging, etc. over the past few days. I don't think I've picked up a book since Friday. The slump was my most extreme yet: I couldn't work up an interest in anything. However, if there's anything that can get you out of a slump, it's a ton of new book mooches!


From the lovely booklogged, Bethlehem Road by Anne Perry (I enjoy her historical mysteries), Deep South by Nevada Barr (since Maggie's challenge, I've been looking for more Southern reading), Find a Stranger, Say Goodbye by Lois Lowry (I love The Giver), and The Modular Brain by Restak (for my ongoing non-fic effort). In addition, Fast Food Nation, Stiff, and Reason for Hope by Jane Goodall are part of my non-fic reading. The Chesterton, Sarton, and Bowen are for the Outmoded Challenge. The War of the Saints by Jorge Amado is for my Reading Across Borders seqeul challenge, as is Train to Pakistan (inspired by a highly praising post on Lotus Reads). Finally, Tipping the Velvet, based on Danielle's reviews of Fingersmith by the same author over at A Work in Progress. Whew-that's a lot of books!

Along with books, I also need to catch up on all the blogs, so I'll be doing that over the next few days. :)

Speaking of which, Carl has the R.I.P II challenge up! I'm so excited; I wasn't around for the challenge last year, but it seems like I've been reading about it forever. And I adore the button. I'm doing Peril the First, and I'll be reading:
The House Next Door by Anne Rivers Siddons, which superfastreader recommended earlier this year,
Seven Gothic Tales by Isak Dinesen, because I loved Out of Africa,
Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury, which some of the other participants are reading, and which sounds really interesting,
and The Ghost Writer by John Harwood, which I saw recommended on a blog (I'm blanking on which one). I'm mooching all of them. Very excited.

Anyway, I'm glad that I'm out of my reading slump, and I'm counting down the days until September, when most of these challenges begin!