Diane’s Unstructured Reading Life 2024 (dianelouise100)

After diligently making plans for 2023, from which I deviated almost immediately, I decided in favor of impulse and spontaneity this year, going with whatever attracts me. I find more and more that my reading suggestions come from this group, or other groups on LT. I also like to follow book reviews in The Guardian newspaper and find their reviewers pretty reliable. And then later will come the Booker Longlist of nominees for the prize for 2024–I only hope it will rival last year’s list in quality selections.

Happy reading to all, and I’ll be jumping right in with my current reading.

My first novel finished in 2024 was The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng, which I loved. I can only hope that all of this year’s books will be equally impressive. I’m currently working on a review.

I’m now reading The Postcard by Anne Berest. And I have to admit that I’d rather read than write, which somewhat hinders the number of reviews that I actually finish. But I’d like to be more disciplined about that this year, since the writing helps me to remember.

>2 dianelouise100: "And I have to admit that I’d rather read than write..." I whole-heartedly agree!

>2 dianelouise100: I have to write a review soon after I’ve read the book, while it’s fresh in my head. Sometimes I’ll bookmark or write a note if there’s a particular phrase or sentence that I think illustrates something of the book as a whole. But I agree, it’s hard to review everything one reads.

>2 dianelouise100: I'm glad that you also loved The Garden of Evening Mists, Diane. Tan Twan Eng has developed quite a fan club here this month!

>4 kjuliff: The need to review soon became clear with last year’s reading. Before I start the next book if possible. That’s hard for me, because I’m usually eager to begin whatever next selection is calling out to me. With the Garden of Evening Mists, though, I was sorry to see the end come.

>5 kidzdoc: Hi, Darryl! It was thanks to you that I started to explore the Booker Longlist last year. These were some of the best fiction I read all year—and The House of Doors was a favorite. I thought there were at least two and maybe three books on the Shortlist it should have replaced. So I was eager to read Tan Twan Eng’s backlist. I liked The Garden of Evening Mists even better than House. And I now own a copy of The Gift of Rain.

>6 dianelouise100: Yes, I too need to start before getting in to the next novel and it’s hard. I just force myself. I think I never got past my school motto, Potens Sui ;-)

>7 dianelouise100: it was a good Booker longlist last year. I’m also glad you liked The Garden of Evening Mists.

Wish you a great year of spontaneous reading. No worries on reviews. I like hearing about what you’re reading and if you’re enjoying. But share what’s fun to share.

>9 dchaikin: Thanks, Dan. The best thing for me about 2023 longlist was that I found some new (to me, at least) authors to follow. With the exception of Sebastian Barry, I had read none of them.

Welcome back to Club Read, Diane. I too am a big TTE fan. Gift of Rain is my favorite. I too have to write a review right away, and I also like to have them as prompts to my sketchy memory. I do give myself leave to skip writing one when I want to though, especially if there are a ton out there that I can reference.

Hmmm…Thanks to you, Lisa,for this suggestion. There are indeed at least a hundred reviews on the Work page for The Garden of Evening Mists. Instead of struggling to give a non-spoiler, not over long, review, I’ll just repeat my reaction. This is a very fine novel, and if you haven’t already read it, just take a look at a copy or read many of the excellent reviews already available. I think you’d find the writing breathtaking and the story very compelling. For me it was a 5* read, and a wonderful beginning to 2024.

>12 dianelouise100: I'm so glad you enjoyed GoEM, Diane. I thought it raised interesting questions about memory, in particular, and the writing is beautiful.

I’m now reading The Postcard by Anne Berest, an interesting juxtaposition to Garden of Evening Mists. Both novels deal with the effects of World War II, one in the Pacific theater, the other in the European. I’m about 100 pages from the end and have enjoyed the book very much, though I’m also finding myself confused occasionally. Rather than memory, The Postcard relies on historical research. Both approaches provide challenge for the reader and much suspense.

So glad you enjoyed TGoEM. I don’t know anything about The Postcard.

Comments on The Postcard by Anne Berest

I’ve now finished The Postcard, a book compelling enough to keep me reading, but which I thought flawed in a couple of significant ways. The novel is based on a true story: the experiences of the author/narrator Anne Berest’s great-grandparents and their children in German-occupied Paris during WWII.

The story opens in 2003 with the arrival of an anonymous postcard at the home of Anne’s mother Lelia, once the home of Anne’s grandmother Myriam, to whom the postcard is addressed. On the card are listed four names, Epraim and Emma, Anne’s great-grandparents; and two of their children, Noémie and Jacques, Anne’s great aunt and uncle. All four had perished at Auschwitz in 1942, victims of Hitler’s determination to wipe out the Jews of Europe. Lelia has done a great deal of careful and painstaking research on the lives of these four and Anne decides she would like to hear what details of her ancestors’ lives her mother knows. The first half of the book is Lelia telling her daughter about these relatives. About 10 years later, Anne decides to track down the anonymous sender of the postcard and the second half of the book is about her search.

Anne is, I think, supposed to be the 1st person narrator throughout. In the first half she reports Lelia’s story as it’s told to her, and I liked this part. Lelia has done much research and the reader is told how she discovered details. Old documents and records, family letters, conversations, and other methods of the historical researcher are shared with Anne, and thus with us. I thought the book’s structure broke down after Lelia’s story. It comes to focus on the question of what happened to Myriam in the later years of the war. Anne is clearly narrating in some parts, but in others the narration seems to turn to a 3rd person omniscient point of view. At one point, a startling new character is introduced in an e-mail exchange with Anne, but is not followed up at all. And I found the ending a bit contrived and anti-climactic—though it was a surprising twist. Overall, I must say that I did not like this book. Its material was very interesting, but the flaws (to me) in structure and point of view would prevent me from recommending it.

>17 dianelouise100: I remember not really liking The Postcard either, and thought it may have been because I was ill at the time that I read it. However your comment re the structure resonates with me and it certainly isn’t a book I could easily recommend.

I should also add that I too was confused with the switch from third to first person narrative. I really thought I’d misread something and it was a sign of fogginess due to illness. Glad to know I wasn’t as foggy as I’d thought.

I don’t really know anything about this author—the book was a gift and I do try to read those as soon as I can. I’m going to google her to see if I find out more about her. I wonder if she was undecided about whether to write a novel or a non fictional account. This sometimes seemed to me like a confusing combination of both,

>20 dianelouise100: Let us know what you find out. I understood it to be genuine research results before I read it, but it didn’t have that feel in the heart of the book. Also the switching to first person. It’s like the author was writing the book as a result of her research, but by then using the third person it became fiction.

>2 dianelouise100: I'm glad you enjoyed TGOEM. It's on my list, too. Interesting comments on The Postcard. This a common problem with historical fiction; authors often struggle with fictionalizing real events and people which leads to perspective jumping.

>22 rv1988: Thanks, Kay, and I hope you’ll be very pleased with TGOEM. I think it takes a very good writer to write good fiction based on real events—probably harder if the events concern their family members.

>17 dianelouise100: very interesting, and also the comments here afterwards. I find myself becoming very hesitant with Holocaust novels as I worry about how authors use it. But I’m sure if this is exactly a novel.

The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes was another outstanding novel for January. I listened to the audiobook, narrated by Richard Morant, and I really enjoyed the listening experience. The novel centers on 60-something Tony Webster, reflecting on certain traumatic events of his long ago student days. It is Tony’s voice that is heard throughout as he mulls over what happened, has to deal with the inaccuracy of his memory, and consider the ramifications of his behavior over the span of his entire life. His old girlfriend Veronica, his brilliant best friend Adrian, the wife he later marries and divorces, Margaret, really everything must be revaluated when he is confronted with evidence of the falseness of his memory. What I liked best about the book was its reflective and at times nostalgic tone. The AB narrator was perfect to capture Tony at this stage of life as he tries to face his younger self. I recommend it.

>25 dianelouise100: Loved your review. I read Sense of an Ending some years ago. I remember it as a great read but had forgotten much of it. Thank you for reminding me of this wonderful book. I might read it again.

Thanks, Kate! Enjoy if you decide on a reread.

>25 dianelouise100: i seem ti remember this gets mixed reviews. I’m curious. I’m getting more interested in Booker Prize books.

>28 dchaikin: All the available Booker lists make wonderful browsing for someone with no reading plans. Much to look at before this year’s nominees are announced…

This morning I finished The Southernization of America by two native Alabamians, both respected journalists: Cynthia Tucker, an African American woman and Frye Gaillard, a white man. This book is essentially a review and analysis of the ups and downs of race relations in the U.S. under Democratic and Republican administrations from the presidency of Jimmy Carter to the current administration of Joe Biden. It consists of eight essays, three of which are authored jointly, three are by Gaillard and two by Tucker. Both are clear and concise writers, and I thought their commentary fair, evenhanded, and informative. I loved reading Gaillard’s essay about Jimmy Carter and his path to the presidency. I found Tucker’s essay “Biden’s Road to Georgia” particularly interesting—it gave me a much clearer understanding of the role of Stacy Abrams and other black leaders in Georgia in laying the groundwork for the wins of Biden, Warnock, and Ossoff (Georgia’s first black and first Jewish senators respectively). I was also impressed with her essay about Confederate iconography and the Black Lives Matter movement. This book was published in 2022, but is even more timely now.

>30 dianelouise100: Always looking for books on recent American politics, and this looks like it may be one to find. I'm going to read V O Key first though.

>31 SassyLassy: If you get to it, you’ll find it reads very quickly. But it has plunged me down a rabbit hole, I’m now looking to read Robert P. Jones’s White Too Long and The Hidden Roots of White Supremacy. These two have been on my TBR for awhile, and now they’re calling out to me. Started White Too Long just last night.

Love those rabbit holes - looking forward to finding out how they work out

The Southernization of America is right up my alley, as a Northern born Black man who spent most of his adult years in the Deep South, including 24 years in Atlanta, where I voted for Stacey Abrams, Jon Ossoff and Raphael Warnock. The excitement I and many of us felt watching the vote count after Ossoff ("vote your Ossoff") and Warnock won their Senate races, and flipped the Senate from Republican to Democratic control was exhilarating and unforgettable. I'll definitely look to read this book soon.

>34 kidzdoc: I hope you like it, Darryl, and I’m guessing that you will.

January was an excellent reading month. Here are the 5 books I read:

FICTION

The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng—my favorite for the month—Shortlisted for the Booker, Malaysian

The Postcard by Anne Berest—WWII and aftermath, German

The Sense of an Ending by Juian Barnes—audiobook, narrated by Richard Morant—Booker winner, British

Seven Graves, One Winter by Christoffer Petersen—a mystery set in Greenland; quick and entertaining read, main character/retired policeman is disabled by a former injury, but still effective (book 1 in series)

NONFICTION

The Southernization of America by Frye Gaillard and Cynthia Tucker—concise and penetrating analysis

White Too Long by Robert P. Jones—all but last 10 pages, included in February’s comments

I’m very happy with this reading list and will probably pursue some of the authors and themes. And though I’m not ready for it, politics is looming now, so I’ll probably be reading more nonfiction.

I look forward to your comments about White Too Long, Diane.

Unfortunately my reading tends to trail off in election years as my stress levels rise.

Review of White Too Long

Robert P. Jones is the Director and Founder of Public Religion Research Institute (PRRI) and author of several books about Christianity and racial in/justice. I’ve just finished White Too Long: The Legacy of White Supremacy in American Christianity. Jones is clearly qualified to write this book. His documentation and use of statistical research validates his theses, which I am sadly inclined to accept.

His review of the support received from the Christian church by slaveholders and other white supremacists in the past—Jim Crow laws, Ku Klux Clan activities, etc.—was difficult to take in. Passive ignoring of racial injustices on the part of the church would have been bad enough to be reminded of, but learning about ways in which Christian ministers actively supported first slavery and later, cruel racism was very upsetting. Then, in the latter part of the book, with careful reference to and explanation of statistical measurements, Jones demonstrates that the situation has not changed all that much. Nowadays one of the best indicators we have of whether or not a white person identifies as Christian—Evangelical, mainline Protestant, or Catholic—is that person’s high score on a measure of white supremacist attitudes, and vice versa. And the racism score is not lessened by the regularity of church attendance. White people who scored lowest on attitudes of racism were those who identified as non-religious. I must admit, I skimmed the part that explained how the statistics were arrived at, but I got his point.

Jones uses his personal experience growing up in Georgia, many narrated examples that include interviews, and impressive research methods to develop a devastating theme. I was quickly drawn in and had to keep reading, though the experience was painful. I recommend this book without reservation.

>38 labfs39: I know what you mean. I am dreading November.

>39 dianelouise100: The title alone is good enough for me; I'll add it to my wish list.

> kidzdoc 40 The title is from James Baldwin in The New York Times, Feb. 2, 1969

“I will flatly say that the bulk of this country’s white population impresses me, and has so impressed me for a very long time, as being beyond any conceivable hope of moral rehabilitation. They have been white, if I may so put it, too long….”

>42 dianelouise100: Thanks, Diane. James Baldwin is unquestionably my favorite writer, and although I don't remember that passage his voice is instantly recognizable.

>43 kidzdoc: Jones quotes Baldwin a lot. I read him in the 60’s and 70’s and am ordering the LOA volume of his essays and other nonfiction. The passage serves as the epigraph for WTL

>39 dianelouise100: excellent review. ( >44 dianelouise100: this helps sell it ) How deranged that religious identity correlates to racism.

>45 dchaikin: Thanks, Dan. His statistics were shocking, especially the part about how inclusive they are of all the Christian denominations…

>45 dchaikin: Actually, I don't find it surprising at all. I have never conflated beliefs in gods with virtues. Even before the Christian kids wanted to beat me up in junior high. I'm not a POC. They wanted to beat me up for being an atheist.

>47 ReneeMarie: the weirdest aspect to me of religious belief/nonbelief and conservative/liberal political leanings is the evidence that it’s predefined at birth. That our reasoning has no impact on our leanings. By that logic, religion and conservative politics should go together in general in the numbers (but not, you know, individually).

But sorry about the bullies and their peaceful religion that they used as justification.

>48 dchaikin: I think it's pretty widespread, even from people who don't seem like bullies. I've had people tell me they'll "pray for me", which is just insulting. And when I told a bookstore customer that as an atheist I couldn't personally recommend a bible to them but I had coworkers who could, the customer said they hoped I didn't have one of those Darwin stickers on my car or it would be sure to be vandalized.

This may interest y'all, based on the current conversation:
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/are-we-born-to-be-religious/

>49 ReneeMarie: That's an interesting article on a subject I had never read about before: the genetics of religious/spiritual belief. Thanks for sharing.

>49 ReneeMarie: i loved reading the Bible. I would be happy to talk to anyone religious or anti-religious about it, as long as they were reasonable. There’s nothing there to make an atheist more uncomfortable than anyone else. (There is a lot there to make readers uncomfortable. It’s good stuff. 🙂)

I would like a Darwin sticker, were i the bumper sticker sort. My geology side has internal spasms talking to my (semi?)well-educated creationist and fanatically Christian neighbors. Texas is a weird place. The US is a weird place. Just the other night I spoke with a French coworker who told me French liberal politicians cannot say they believe in god. It’s like anti-liberal there. Which I thought charming. I tried to explain that in the US if you don’t make a huff about your religious devotion you can’t get elected, even as most politicians on all sides view religion primarily as a political tool.

(Oh. Sorry Diane. I hope i’m not being taking too much of your thread or being disrespectful in any way here.)

>51 dchaikin: Thanks, no. In my experience, people who want to talk about it generally want to proselytize. And, not trying to be disrespectful, but if I was looking for a model for how to behave, it wouldn't be in a Bible. If I was looking for history, again, it wouldn't be the Bible. For literature, maybe bits of it.

But you're right, I'm done talking about this here.

>52 ReneeMarie: no worries. Apologies if i made you uncomfortable.

>53 dchaikin: No worries. Uncomfortable is not the right word.

Reply to Comments 47-54: As someone who strongly identifies as a practicing Christian, I can only say that I’m sorry your experience with Christians has been so negative. And that I’m relieved that this particular conversation has ended.

My current read, Any Human Heart, a novel of William Boyd, was longlisted for the Booker prize. It’s going quite well—I’m listening and reading along—and after some reading of excellent nonfiction, I’m happy to be in fictionland again. There’s more nonfiction on the horizon as well, and it promises to be an interesting quarter of reading.

>56 dianelouise100: I remember reading and liking this book, but I cannot remember it in detail. I’ve read a few William Boyd novels and tend to get them mixed up.

>57 kjuliff: I’m gearing up to write a review—finished the book a few days ago and loved it! My first by Boyd and am looking to read more.

Review of Any Human Heart

I found Any Human Heart: the Intimate Journals of Logan Mountstuart by William Boyd an enjoyable and satisfying novel. Spanning virtually all of the 20th century, Logan Mountstuart’s journals reveal the diverse and fascinating (for me, anyway) life of the title character.

In the frame story as the novel begins, an elderly man sits editing his journals, presumably for publication. These journals, kept throughout his life, begin in 1923 when 17-year old Logan is in his last year at Abbey, an upper class British boarding/prep school. The journals continue through his years at Oxford, his career in journalism and somewhat successful attempts at becoming a novelist, his love affairs and marriages, and his different careers. He publishes some books and has a successful career managing a New York art gallery; one of his later jobs is teaching English literature in Nigeria. Living in London and traveling often to Europe, especially Paris, he socializes with some of the most famous figures of the 30’s and ‘40’s arts world, among them Hemingway (who befriends him), Fitzgerald, Picasso, Ian Fleming, and Virginia Woolf (whom he doesn’t care for). Ian Fleming recruits him for British Naval lntelligence at the beginning of World War II, and one of his numerous assignments is a mission to the Bahamas to keep an eye on the activities of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, whose characters are convincingly drawn. As a journalist he covers parts of the Spanish Civil War and three decades later joins a revolutionary group of terrorists.

Logan’s life is a long and eventful one set on many continents. He succeeds and fails, wins and loses love, is happy and in despair, as his life progresses into the ‘90’s. I very much enjoyed following Logan through this very interesting life and felt at the end of the novel as if I’d lost a friend.

>59 dianelouise100: Great review. I read this book a long time ago. Time for a re-read.

>60 kjuliff: Thanks! I’ll enjoy seeing how it holds up for you. I think I saw that the Audible narrator was one of my favorites, Simon Vance.

>61 dianelouise100: Yes I think you and I have mentioned Mr Vance before. He’s so reliable.

Great review. There is a booker award book club on facebook (created by the Booker award) and this was their January book. But I didn’t read it. Didn’t know anything about it.

>59 dianelouise100: I've read quite a few books by Boyd, and laughed my way through Any Human Heart. He is almost always a pleasure to read. I drifted off for awhile, and then we parted ways when he came out for Better Together in the referendum. That doesn't take anything away from his writing though!

>63 dchaikin: Thanks, Dan! I get the monthly spotlights by e-mail from the Booker offerings on their website, and that’s where the notion to read this came from. All those longlists are a good source of book suggestions.

>64 SassyLassy: Thanks for this comment and piece of info, Sassy. This was my first book by Boyd and since our library has many of his works, I do want to try more. If you’d feel comfortable recommending one or two others for me to try, I’d appreciate it. And will understand if you don’t.

>66 dianelouise100: No problem - as I said, my view of his politics doesn't take anything away from his writing!

My favourite by Boyd is definitely Brazzaville Beach. If it's not his first novel, it's definitely one of the earlier ones. Another favourite is The New Confessions. Whatever book you wind up with, enjoy!

>67 SassyLassy: I liked Brazzaville Beach a lot too. But now I’m stuck reading International Booker prize winners and they are all dark and haunting.

Brazzaville Beach, which my library has, will be my next Boyd novel. Thanks, Sassy and Kate

The past few weeks have been very busy, and though I’ve been reading, I’ve pretty much neglected this thread, and all the ones I’ve been following as well. Things seem to be settling down a bit and I wanted to list my “unplanned” reading for 1st quarter to look at where I’ve been led. I’m pleased to have read 14 books, all of which were enjoyable.

JANUARY

1. The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng

2. The Postcard by Anne Berest

3. The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes

4. The Southernization of America: A Story of Democracy in
the Balance by Frye Gaillard and Cynthia Tucker

FEBRUARY

5. White Too Long: The Legacy of White Supremacy in American
Christianity by Robert P. Jones

6. Any Human Heart by William Boyd

7. Seven Graves One Winter by Christoffer Petersen

8. Beyond a Binary God: A Theology for Trans* Allies by Tara K.
Soughers

9. In this House of Brede by Rumer Godden

MARCH

10. The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin

11. The Cross and the Lynching Tree by James H. Cone

12. My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk

13. His Only Wife by Peace Adzo Medie

14. Pale Horse, Pale Rider: Three Short Novels by Katherine Anne
Porter

This list contains more nonfiction than is usual for me, all of it dealing in one way or another with issues of inclusion and white supremacy. Two of these were part of reading groups for the church related EFM course I’ve joined, sponsored by the University of the South (Sewannee). Both of these books, The Cross and the Lynching Tree and Beyond a Binary God were informative for me and made for great book discussions; I can recommend them to anyone who might be interested. White Too Long, The Southernization of America and The Fire Next Time also deal with race relations and white supremacy. James Baldwin was quoted frequently in White Too Long. Reading the excerpts from his writing reminded me of his succinct and beautiful style and the clarity and durability of his social criticism. I bought two of the LOA volumes collecting his works and plan to get to at least one of his novels and as much of his nonfiction as possible over the rest of the year. (Plans do develop, after all.) The Fire Next Time was easily my favorite in the nonfiction category.

Some of the fiction was suggested by past Booker Longlists, which I’ve found a useful guide; some of it was persuasively recommended by trusted reading friends (which includes “virtual” friends). Many were brought to my attention by conversation on CR threads that piqued my curiosity. With these sources of inspiration, my Wish List has mushroomed. Looking back over my fiction reads, I cannot choose a favorite. My least favorite was The Postcard (review at #17).

I’m hoping that the International Booker Longlist will provide some good suggestions for 2nd quarter’s reading. I’ll plan on reading some of them and listening out for the comments of other Booker followers. I’m currently reading Four Hundred Souls: A Community History of African America, 1619-2019 by Ibram X. Kendi and Simpatia, by Venezuelan Rodrigo Blance Calderon, my first of the International Booker nominees.

I'm excited you're pursuing some from the International Booker list. I'm hoping to read some of the list (one finished today). So, regarding Baldwin - I love The Fire Next Time. I'm wondering if you have chosen which novel you will read or if you are still deciding. If there's room for me to nudge Giovanni's Room, I'll nudge it. It's beautiful.

>71 dchaikin: I’d intended to ask the Baldwin fans for suggestions, just ran out of steam last night. Thanks, and Giovanni’s Room is in the volume of fiction I have—I’ll go for it first.

Such an interesting reading year you've had so far, Diane. You're tackling some tough topics. I'll be following along with interest.

Thanks, Lisa. It has been a good quarter.

Late to the game here, but I loved Any Human Heart. I remember reading it when I first moved to my house, 20 years ago and change, and just enjoying the ride so much.

>75 lisapeet: Boyd is new to me and I love that he’s written so much.

>72 dianelouise100: In addition to The Fire Next Time I can also recommend Notes of a Native Son and No Name in the Street. Even better would be the Library of America edition James Baldwin: Collected Essays, which contains these books, several others, and ?unpublished essays. If I had to choose 10 books to take with me on a mythical desert island this would absolutely be one of them.

>77 kidzdoc: Hi,, Darryl, thanks for stopping by. Soon after I read White Too Long where James Baldwin is quoted and referred to several times, I ordered the LOA volume of essays and am reading Notes of a Native Son now. Also decided to check out his fiction too, so ordered Vol. 1, early fiction. Dan has suggested I start with Giovanni’s Room—I was wondering about your favorite Baldwin novels? This volume will have to wait till I read much more of his nonfiction. I thoroughly enjoyed the essay on Uncle Tom’s Cabin, and am now on the next essay on Richard Wright. What a choice of books to juxtapose! And Baldwin’s writing is just so fine…

>78 dianelouise100: I can't argue with Dan; Giovanni's Room is my favorite Baldwin novel. However, I would suggest starting with Go Tell It on the Mountain, as it's autobiographical in nature, which sets the stage for his future fiction and nonfiction work.

I like all Darryl’s suggestions. 🙂 So happy you’re taking to these essays, Diane. I haven’t finished the essays. I paused after the ones originally in books

I finished The Silver Bone by Andrey Kurkov last night, my first of this years nominees for the International Booker. While not surprised that it didn’t make the cut for the Short List, I still enjoyed it a great deal and recommend that anyone looking for a new mystery series take a look at this first book of The Kyiv Mysteries.

The series will feature Samson Kolechko, introduced in the first novel as a young man whose engineering studies have been interrupted by the multi-factional civil war still raging in 1919 through the westernmost part of Russia. The novel is set in Kyiv, where political control has been taken, but certainly not secured, by the Bolsheviks. Chaos reigns everywhere, and as the novel opens we find Samson and his father under attack by a group of White guard Cossacks on horseback. Here are the opening lines of the novel:

“Samson was deafened by the sound of the saber striking his father’s head. He caught the glint of the flashing blade out of the corner of his eye and stepped into a puddle. His already dead father’s left hand pushed him aside so that the next saber neither quite struck nor quite missed, slicing off his right ear.”

The atmosphere of terror and indiscriminate violence that reigns in the city is perfectly captured for me by this scene of sabre-armed horsemen galloping through the street hacking at unarmed pedestrians. Samson soon finds himself “requisitioned” to the police force established by the Red Army and handed a crime to solve originating in his own apartment, where two Red soldiers have been billeted and are storing sacks of “requisitioned” goods.

The novel has a humorous tone at times, which is as unexpected as anything else in the disorder of 1919 Kyiv. And Samson’s detecting successes are helped along by his severed ear, about which I’ll say no
more, except that this bit of magical realism fits right in.

I enjoyed this story for all its quirky qualities and will definitely read the second installment, which has apparently already been written. Kurkov’s writing of the third novel of the series, we are told in the Translator’s Note, was interrupted by the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022.

>81 dianelouise100: Thanks for reviewing this book. I’ve wondered about it. I have it on my tbr but didn’t know a lot about it. Sounds like a good read.

>82 kjuliff: I see it’s available on audio—hope you’ll enjoy it if you decide to give it a try.

>83 dianelouise100: Thanks. I’ve put it in my Audible wish list as it’s not in my library. I’m currently trying to read TheSeven Moons of Maali Almeida but having trouble getting into it.

>81 dianelouise100: I finished The Silver Bone Saturday. Enjoyed your review. Like you, I really liked the beginning and the setting. It ended concluding a mystery, but i found I was particularly interested in the mystery and all the stuff i was interested in had kind of gotten left behind. Still, fun enough.

>85 dchaikin: Glad you had fun with it. Will you be reviewing it?

>86 dianelouise100: eventually 🙂

Review of Crooked Plow by Itamar Vieira Junior

Bibiana and Belonísia, aged 7 and 6 respectively, take advantage of their grandmother’s temporary absence from the house to pry into the old suitcase she so carefully hides beneath her bed. At its very bottom, under layers of old clothing, they find a beautiful ivory-handled knife, its blade shining and deadly sharp and “covered in dark stains.” The children are fascinated by this strange object and squabble over its possession. Each little girl puts the knife in her mouth and each is seriously injured: Bibiana receives a deep cut to her tongue, which will eventually heal, and Belonísia actually severs her tongue, leaving her mute.

Thus begins Crooked Plow, Itamar Vieira Junior’s prize-winning novel, an absorbing work focussed on the lives of Bibiana and Belonísia and their family, and the community in which they live, a community of African Brazilians about three generations removed from the abolition of slavery in Brazil. This community is made up of tenant farmers living on the plantation Água Negra located in Bahia, Brazil’s poorest state. The novel is beautifully written and rich in symbolism and imagery, its pace is carefully controlled as it moves along to a shocking climax, and its characters are fully developed and convincingly real (even the spirit/saints—encantados/encantadas—who are part of its magical realisim). Its themes are many, but all are harmonious and support each other. The ongoing impact of a relentless colonialism on these descendants of slaves is a major theme. The characters toil “from Sunday to Sunday” at cultivating the land that has been their home for years, but can never feel secure about being allowed to remain there. The major conflict in the novel occurs when the owners of Água Negra sell the plantation. The new owner wants to evict the tenant farmers, so that he can create an eco-plantation. In the wider society of Brazil, the voices of people like our characters are not heard—much like the voice of the mute Belonísia, silenced, but nonetheless powerful and with so much to say.

I can’t do justice to so complex a novel in a short space and after only one reading. It was certainly a 5-star treat for me, and I know that with each reread I will find new elements to appreciate.

Great review of Crooked Plow. Diane! I enjoyed it nearly as much as you did, and at the moment it would be my favorite to win this year's International Booker Prize.

Reading this put me in the mood of making another batch of Moqueca Baiana, an Afro-Brasilian seafood stew that comes from Bahia.

>88 dianelouise100: Oh, we've had now three (?) reviews of this book on Club Read and I get more fascinated with each one. I liked your review, and if it has re-read potential, that's wonderful.

Thank you! I’ll bet you’d enjoy the book, for me it just worked on so many levels.

>89 kidzdoc: Thanks, Darryl. If you do make this seafood stew, please post a picture.

Books read in April:

The Silver Bone by Andreï Kourkov (IB longlist, 2024)
Crooked Plow by Itamar Vieira Junior (IB shortlist, 2024)
What I’d Rather Not Think About by Jente Posthuma (IB shortlist, 2024)
When We Cease to Understand the World by Benjamín Labatut (shortlisted for IB shortlist, 2021)
Anil’s Ghost by Michael Ondaatje

The first four listed were chosen from the “Booker Library”; the last to fulfill the category for Sri Lanka for Global Reading Challenge.

What I’d Rather Not Think About was shortlisted for this year’s International Booker Prize. It is the story of a young woman living with the grief of her twin brother’s suicide. The story is structured in very short episodes, as memories come to her of her life before and since the death of her twin. To me, the narrator/main character, was not likeable. Her obsession with her brother, his well-being, and the ups and downs of their relationship was smothering. I keep getting the feeling that I’m missing something about the novel and will have to reread it if it wins the Prize. It was my least favorite of April’s reading.

I enjoyed both Anil’s Ghost and When We Cease to Understand the World, both read for a global challenge. The first is set in war-torn Sri Lanka. The main character, Anil, is a human rights violation investigator. Her idealism is balanced by the more practical approach of her co-investigator, who is assigned by the local government ostensibly to help her, but mainly to keep track of her. As truth minded Anil gets closer and closer to learning and being able to prove who was actually responsible for one particular murder, she puts herself and her partner in great danger. The novel draws inexorably to a shattering conclusion that puts me in mind of the ending of Hamlet—“and the rest is silence.” Highly recommended.

When We Cease to Understand the World is a factual “novel” by Chilean author Benjamin Labatut focussed on developments in the field of particle physics. It moves chronologically from the discovery of the chemical process that led eventually to the production of cyanide to the scientific world’s reluctant acceptance of Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle. I don’t have a vocabulary in the field of physics, so I had to follow as best I could (which was very poorly!) Labatut’s descriptions of the scientific equations and proofs, but I was kept reading by his beautiful descriptions of the lives of the scientists as they worked out their various theorems. This aspect of the very short “novel” was gripping for me. The book was recommended to me by a bookseller whose reading tastes are usually very similar to mine. I purchased the book on an impulse—and I’m so very glad I did. Believe me, no fluency in physics is required to enjoy this…. but of course, it couldn’t hurt. Again, highly recommended.

>95 dianelouise100: As you know, I loved Anil's Ghost too, and your review makes me want to reread it. I like when authors are able to make a topic like particle physics both accessible and interesting to the lay reader.

>95 dianelouise100: I’m thinking of reading Anil’s Ghost as it seems to have been liked by a number of my LT friends. But I haven’t particularly liked Ondaatje’s other books. Still I’m very interested in the Sri Lankan civil war and this, plus your review encourages me to read it.

>95 dianelouise100: I'm fascinated by the idea of a physics novel. I was just having a conversation with an architect who started his undergrad career as a physics major, noting that my son started out as a physics major too (then poli sci, then biology, then medicine). He (the architect) noted that physics is never again as cool as it is in high school, and he's probably right... but the book sounds cool too, and is definitely on my list.

>95 dianelouise100: >98 lisapeet: Great review Diane. I’ve added When We Cease to Understand the World to my list, though I’m a bit nervous as to whether I’ll understand it enough to get the full benefit.

>98 lisapeet: I’m glad to bring the book to your attention. I think you’ll enjoy it!

>99 kjuliff: Thanks, Kate. I know you’ll have no trouble getting the point, which to me is the effect of these discoveries on the world, often negative and destructive, and the effects on the lives of the men who made them. Genius and insanity so often go hand and hand.

Reading for May now includes The Trees by Percival Everett and the text of The Iliad in Emily Wilson’s translation. I’m now reading Wilson’s introductory comments and taking notes. I’m hoping to read The Odyssey in Wilson’s translation and The Aeneid in Sarah Ruden’s translation before the quarter ends. I’m so delighted to see women getting recognition in the field of the ancient Classics, so typically a male territory!

Review of The Trees by Percival Everett

The Trees is set in Money, Mississippi, in contemporary times. It is plotted as a mystery in which two of the descendants of the killers of Emmett Till are murdered in a grotesquely violent way, reminiscent of that murder in 1955. The MBI (Mississippi Bureau of Investigation) takes charge of the case and sends two of its toughest investigators—both African American—to Money to investigate. The expected racist responses and obstruction from the white townspeople occur. The detectives manage to solve the Money murders within a reasonable amount of time anyway, but then the novel escalates into a horror story, as the descendents of perpetrators of hate crimes all over the country mysteriously begin to suffer similar deaths.

Having read James Cone’s The Cross and the Lynching Tree only a couple of months ago, I came with a ready-prepared attitude toward The Trees. As soon as its title was linked in my mind with the town of Money, Mississippi (mentioned in its first sentence), I knew where the novel was going… for me at any rate. It begins as a biting satire of the ongoing ignorance (“never going away”) and squalor of Money, representative of the small town South; it focusses in at once on the lives of Granny C (for Caroline) Milam and her son Wheat and his wife, who is known by her CB handle of Hot Mama Yeller, and their children and cousins. We are allowed to laugh sardonically at this sorry, benighted place for a while, but the tone undergoes a shift, gradually morphing into fear and mystification, as an army of “ghosts” pursues a terrifying nationwide search for revenge. For me, the novel was very effective at presenting its theme of the overwhelming horrors of the Jim Crow era in the U.S. The book has stayed on my mind a lot since I finished it, and I continue to reflect on the significance of its ending.

Nice review of The Trees, Diane. Have you read James, or anything else by Percival Everett?

>103 kidzdoc: The Trees is my first novel by Everett. I think from a post somewhere that you either are reading or planning to read James. I’ll be interested in your thoughts.

Thank you! This seems a good way to proceed to me—last year I had many plans, but always I was distracted by favorable reviews on CR, or I just got sucked into rabbit holes. I’m doing both this year—and with no uneasiness about “the big plan”! I’m glad the no-plan-plan works for you as well.

Books read in May:

The Trees by Percival Everett

The Iliad by Homer, Emily Wilson, trans.

Arabesk by Barbara Nadel

The Odyssey by Homer, Emily Wilson, trans.

Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years by Diarmaid MacCulloch

The Iliad and The Odyssey for the RTT quarterly theme Biblical/Ancient Literature. And for the sheer pleasure of reading the latest translation.

Christianity was one of the texts in EFM, (Education for Ministry), a 4-year seminar course offered by the University of the South to cover basic readings in Christian history and theology.

Reading The Iliad and The Odyssey in Emily Wilson’s poetic and very accessible translations was a fine reading experience, possibly it will be the most pleasurable of the year. I listened along with the reading, a major part of the ‘‘reading’’pleasure. Wilson’s Introduction was excellent and provided interesting insight into the translator’s work of rendering verse from one language to another—for example, her choice of iambic pentameter for meter, which fits so well the English language, while Homer’s dactylic hexameter does not. It makes for glorious poetry. I found her 60+ page treatment of Homer, background material, aspects of the poem, and the translation process very informative. Especially about why this translation works for me, while others did not.

This was my first experience reading the entire Iliad. I now own a total of four translations, bought hopefully over the years, three of them dnf’d because just not satisfying to the ear. I loved Wilson’s translation of each and was glad to have read them in such close sequence. The Odyssey I had read in its entirety for several classes in high school and college, but couldn’t remember much about them other than the most general storyline.

All of my very limited background in ancient Greek literature was from long ago, so in no way can I approach these poems as a competent reviewer. But I can tell you just some of the things that impressed me about them:

I had not expected Homer to pay much attention to his women characters or to show the men relating with such tenderness to their loved ones. A fine example of this is the scene between Hector and his wife Andromache and their infant son Astynax before Hector returns to battle (Book 6?). Hector is wearing his famous helmet (‘Hector of the shining helmet’) and the baby screams in fright at his father’s unaccustomed appearance. Whereupon Hector takes off the helmet and cuddles his son on his lap. This scene actually made me weep, knowing already the coming fates of all three. Penelope of The Odyssey is of course a central character in that poem and her loyalty to Odysseus is made much of—but also her courage and practical wit. She is a very worthy partner for the famous scheming hero.

I enjoyed the interference of the gods in the story and came to realize that for the Greeks, their gods took an active and invested role in their lives and in life on earth in general. For better or for worse, they are always there. Athena is hands down my favorite deity, but the comedy of Hera seducing Zeus with the help of unsuspecting Aphrodite, so that the Greeks can gain some ground in the war made cunning Hera one of my favorites as well. She and Odysseus are very similar, and I don’t know why they weren’t better friends.

I admired the integrity of the heroes in the Iliad. The values of honor and glory (which consisted of a warrior’s winnings in war and the fame acquired thereby) would not be my values. But the warriors in the Iliad place these ideals above all else, which is why losing face with the loss of Briseis, his booty from an earlier sacked city in the Troad, is so devastating and enraging for Achilles and underlies the shaping of the entire poem. These men are very earnest in living by their values.

I loved the fact that the type of warfare in the Iliad is so different from modern warfare. The fighters see, hear, and feel each other—impossible to be unaware of who they are killing or the pain of the deaths they inflict. They often manage to boast to each other and to indulge in impressive rounds of insults, sometimes while already involved in the most intense fighting. The sheer energy in this poem was sometimes exhausting just to listen to!

The character of Odysseus in the Odyssey has matured since the Iliad. He is still the brilliant strategist who crafted the Trojan horse (which occurs not in the Iliad but between the two poems), but now his deepest desire is to return home, to reunite with his wife Penelope and their son, who is now approaching maturity. This love for home and family is much more likely to be a sympathetic value for modern readers, it was for me at any rate. I don’t know that it makes The Odyssey my favorite of the two poems, I’ve come to love them both. And both, I think, are among those works that can be read and reread and provide something new to savor with each rereading.

These two epics are landmarks for Western literary culture—the first epics for Greeks and for the West. I am so pleased to have begun my acquaintance with them. If you haven’t read these translations and choose to do so, I think you’ll be in for a treat.

I've been hearing about Emily Wilson's translations, but your comments have convinced me to get copies. I've only read the Lattimore translations, and it will be interesting to see how they compare.

>109 labfs39: I don’t think I got very far in Lattimore’s Iliad. Here are its opening lines:

Sing, goddess, the anger of Peleus’ son Achilleus
and its devastation, which put pains thousandfold upon the
Achaians,
hurled in their multitudes to the house of Hades strong souls
of heroes, but gave their bodies to be the delicate feasting
of dogs, of all birds, and the will of Zeus was accomplished
since that time when first there stood in division of conflict
Atreus’ son the lord of men and brilliant Achilleus.

And Wilson’s rendition:

Goddess, sing of the cataclysmic wrath
of great Achilles, son of Peleus,
which caused the Greeks immeasurable pain
and sent so many noble souls of heroes
to Hades, and made men the spoils of dogs,
a banquet for the birds, and so the plan
of Zeus unfolded—starting with the conflict
between great Agamemnon, lord of men,
and glorious Achilles.

I’ve had fun looking at the differences among my different translators. I may in fact go back to read Robert Fagles’s translation the next time I read the Iliad, I think he will be the most appealing after Wilson, particularly now that I’m more familiar with the material.

Oh, you make me want to reread Homer, only in my case it would be in a French translation. I only read him a couple of times I think, two for the Iliad and three or four for the Odyssey. I thought the Iliad was boring the first time, all these men fighting, and the gruesome killings. I was very young. The second time I was impressed by how everyone (how many characters are three in the Iliad anyway?), even those who only appear to get killed, gets a flash bio with his name and the name of his father, where he comes from, and some personal detail, what he was best known for. That made them much more real and human to me, and so all the killing took a different meaning.

I am currently reading Ovid’s Metamorphoses and so I can’t really like Hera (Juno). In Ovid she keeps viciously pursuing the women Jupiter has seduced, or more often raped. I realize she can’t take it out on him, being a god, but still. At least in Homer there are no rapes, that I remember.

>111 FlorenceArt: Hi, Florence, I’m so glad to have reminded you of some of the beauties of these epics and hope you will find a wonderful new French version to read. And you are right that there are no actual scenes of rape in the epics. Unfortunately, though, rape is taken for granted, since being the warrior’s concubine is part of the life of the women taken as booty when cities are sacked. Early in Book 1 (ll. 44ff), Agamemnon rejects a Trojan father’s plea that he accept a handsome ransom for his daughter’s release with these cringe-producing words:

I will not let her go. She shall grow old
a very long way from her fatherland
in Argos, in my house, and work the loom,
and share my bed. Now go! Do not enrage me!

(As you can see, I’ll take any reason to quote from the poem—I had to leave out all quotation in the review, because I’d still be typing.)

>112 dianelouise100: I’m almost tempted to try Wilson’s translations!

It’s a daunting task to choose a translation. According to this blog post, there have been at least 27 French translations of the Odyssey from the Middle Ages to 2022.

>113 FlorenceArt: I’m wishing I’d spent some of my time as a student learning Greek—finding which translation works best is certainly a cumbersome chore and even then you know how dependent you are on the translator’s ear for the language and facility in French or English. Good luck!
(The first translation of Homer into English that I know of is by 16th century poet, George Chapman—then who knows how many after that!)

I’ve finished listening to The Iliad of Homer, Elizabeth Vandiver’s excellent series of lectures produced by the Great Courses. Vandiver is a good lecturer who speaks clearly and organizes her material carefully, so that following her train of thought and taking notes is easy for the listener. After beginning with some background information about epic poetry in general and more specifically about the function of the Iliad and the Odyssey in Greek culture, she moves to discussing the poem itself, focussing chronologically on significant episodes. Listening to this lecture series enhanced my understanding and appreciation of a poem that is a foundation stone of Western literary tradition. I’ll definitely be listening to more of her courses.

Since I spent 9 months reading Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years, I suppose I should say something about it. My first comment must be that reading this tome of 1000+ pages at the rate of a chapter a week is definitely not the best way to read it!! MacCulloch is extremely detailed in his discussion of Christian history and theology and not carefully organized in his way of presenting details. The book constantly refers either back to something he’s said earlier (usually hundreds of pages earlier), even giving page numbers for the reader’s benefit, or forward, also giving page references. I might have appreciated this detailed discussion more had I read it in the normal way, but even so, I think his choice of subject matter was too ambitious here. The whole history of Christianity with all its earlier heresies and later divisions treated in detail should be presented in several volumes, in my opinion. MacCulloch was certainly informative, but certainly not a pleasure (for me) to read. If I had chosen to read this book, I probably would have dnf’d it early on.

Enjoyed your enthusiastic reviews of Emily Watson's translations of The Iliad and the Odyssey - they are both on my to read list.

>117 baswood: I think you’ll be pleased with Wilson’s translations. Happy reading!

I’ve been absorbed in listening to Elizabeth Vandiver’s GC series on Herodotus, Herodotus: The Father of History, in preparation for a serious attempt to read The Histories. And at the same time enjoying a short story a day of Mavis Gallant, whose stories I’m beginning to find addictive. And…throwing a wrench into all plans and making me glad to have NO FIXED plans, yesterday I received from Penguin Random House and NetGalley an advance copy of Passiontide by Monique Roffey. This highly charged novel about a misogynist society on a fictionalized island in the Carribean with a very high rate of femicide quickly became un-putdownable, so the Greeks will be sidelined for a couple of days. The novel is particularly welcome as a read for the Trinidad/Tobago segment of a world reading challenge.

>108 dianelouise100: I'm so happy to hear your positivity about those Wilson translations—I have both and am really looking forward to them.

I’ve finished Passiontide, a 5-star read for me. Here is my review:

There is much to admire in Passiontide, Monique Roffey’s latest, soon-to-be published novel. Set in Port Isabella on the Caribbean island of St. Colibri (a fictionalized Trinidad) during Lent and Passiontide a few years ago, this novel focusses on the events set off on the last night of Carnival by the horrific murder of Sora Tanaka. Sora is a young Japanese, well known to the Port Isabella community from her yearly visits at Carnival time to play steel pan music with the best of the local pan players. Although Sora’s murder is at the heart of the novel, Passiontide is not a murder mystery. It is about the attempt of the women of the island to bring about change, through peaceful protests, to St. Colibri’s extraordinarily high rate of femicide, wife-beating, and other woman abuse. The women’s ultimate antagonists are those in power who are either religious misogynists or indifferent male government officials. What the women experience is the power they can have when large numbers representing all classes, economic levels, and social status unite in their common quest for change from patriarchal power and values.

My memory of this novel will be of voices, layers of voices, mostly women’s voices, but men’s voices as well, voices expressing deep sorrow, rage, anxiety, terror, love, joy, shock, despair, hope, fear. We hear through the victim, the murderer, the detective in charge, the mayor, the prime minister, the pathologist. And then there is the voice of pan music, born on the island, expressing both its greatest sorrow and most powerful joy. The story is mostly carried by the voices of four women who could be said to be the main characters: Tara, already an activist and head of the small group of feminists on the island; Sharleen, a reporter covering women’s issues for the local newspaper; Gigi, a prostitute and leader of a group advocating for the protection of prostitutes; and Daisy, wife of the Prime Minister, whose sister had also been the victim of an unsolved murder. Tara and Gigi begin the protest by planning a peaceful occupation of the public space outside the Prime Minister’s office building. From this decision, the plot builds as the women grow in number and in goals. All is held together loosely within the structural framework of the liturgical season—Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday.

And then of course, there is Roffey’s own voice, her way with words: her skillful use of imagery, symbolism, and diction. The characters usually speak a highly colloquial dialect, using even obscurely slangy words, making the novel a very intimate experience, even though for many readers, it will also feel foreign. And Roffey’s themes couldn’t be more timely. I really loved Passiontide and look forward to September, when I’ll be able to buy a hardbound copy just in time for a reread.

Read if you like an exotic island setting, with a very hardheaded look at the facts of women’s lives in far too many places in today’s world, and a story of a group of women uniting for change.

My thanks to Penguin-Random House and NetGalley for this arc.

My last read for June was The Club: Johnson, Boswell, and the Friends Who Shaped an Age by Leo Damrosch. Damrosch is an academician well known in 18th century studies. In The Club he gives his reader a good feel for late 18th century British culture. Founded in 1763 by Samuel Johnson and the painter Sir Joshua Reynolds, this group of friends met on Friday evenings at London’s Turk’s Head Tavern for dinner and conversation; it eventually included such notables as James Boswell, David Garrick, Sir Edmund Burke, Adam Smith, and Edward Gibbon and still meets today as the London Literary Society. I found this book very enjoyable, and it has inspired many ambitious additions to my TBR.

Books read in June:

The Histories Books 1, 2 by Herodotus, Tom Holland, trans.

Passiontide (arc), by Monique Roffey

The Iliad of Homer, Great Books audio, Elizabeth Vandiver, presenter

The Club: Johnson, Boswell, and the Friends Who Shaped An Age by
Leo Damrosch

I suppose it makes some sense, though it certainly wasn’t by any plan, to turn from a quarter’s reading of ancient/Biblical literature (Homer and Herodotus for me) to 18th century British writers, who all seemed to be in love with Greek and Latin poetry. This quarter I’d like to finish The Histories of Herodotus (7 books to go). After completing The Club, I pulled a very old, but never read, copy of James Boswell’s Life of Samuel Johnson from the shelf, and am finding it pretty readable. (I’m expecting it to be more entertaining when Boswell actually meets Johnson and can rely on his journal.) I also hope to read some of Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. I found Damrosch’s account of the writing of the book (6 vols) intriguing. Gibbon apparently attributes a large share of Rome’s decline to the growing influence of Christianity, and many of his readers, including members of the club, found this offensive.

>121 dianelouise100: Great review - this sounds like a difficult, but worthwhile read. I'm bookmarking it!

>125 rv1988: Thanks! And I’m glad to have intrigued you—I’d agree that it’s a worthwhile read.

Review of My Friends by Hisham Matar

I loved this book. I found myself engrossed in the story from the very beginning and ever more impressed with the writer’s capabilities. My Friends tells the story of three friends, each exiled from Quaddafi’s Lybia: Khaled, the teacher; Mustapha, the revolutionary; and Hosam, the writer. Matar, himself of Lybian descent, won a Pulitzer in 2017 for his memoir The Return, an account of his attempt to learn the fate of his father, who was one of the “disappeared” during Quaddafi’s dictatorship.

The protagonist of My Friends is Khaled; the whole novel is narrated in 3rd person, limited to his point of view. On November 18, 2016, from late afternoon through evening, Khaled walks the 5 or 6 miles from the St. Pancras train station in London to his home in Shepherd’s Bush. His friend Mustapha has previously moved far away from London, and Khaled has just spent a couple of days with Hosam, who is leaving London for good to settle his family in California. We know from the novel’s outset that the relationship of these friends will inevitably become estranged by distance. We learn their compelling story through Khaled’s memories on his long walk home.

Very early in the novel, from Khaled’s reminiscences and from the book’s numerous cover blurbs (so no spoiler coming), we learn of Khaled’s and his college roommate Mustapha’s participation in an anti-regime demonstration outside the Lybian embassy in London. Inside the embassy someone opens fire at the protesters, and both friends are wounded. Khaled’s wound is life-threatening, but he eventually recovers from its physical manifestations. He and Mustapha are now placed in the vulnerable position of being known protesters, therefore constantly in danger from the Quaddafi regime, which is known to assassinate or disappear dissenters living anywhere the world. After the demonstration Khaled’s poignant homesickness for his beloved family and country, which he left voluntarily to attend college, may now be permanent.

On the evidence of this one book, my only sample of Matar’s work, I think he is a fine writer. His ability to evoke emotion with the “telling detail”; his skilled use of point of view, so that one person’s history is told in the course of a long evening’s walk; his development of three very different characters into sympathetic and believable people; his ability to use events of political history skillfully as the structure for a fine story; and other details of craft are impressive to me. His backlist is not very long at this point, and I’m glad to have it to look forward to.

Thank you for putting Hisham Matar on my radar. My library doesn't have My Friends yet, but The Return: Fathers, sons, and the land in between is available and looks very good.

My library doesn’t have it yet either, but I found it on Libby. Had no intention of reading it, just browsing sample excerpts from various novels, but got pulled in. I’ll be interested in your impressions of The Return when you get to it.

>127 dianelouise100: I read In the Country of Men some years ago, but remember little. I was going to reread it for the Africa challenge but got distracted by things I hadn't read. I'll add The Return to my wishlist.

I’m going to read The Return, too. It sounds really promising.

I finished Clear by Clarys Davies earlier this month. As in recent Booker prize nominees Crooked Plow and This Other Eden, whose conflicts are between impoverished communities of tenants of generations-long standing and their wealthy, absentee landlords, the conflict in Clear is the evicting of the lone resident of a small Scottish island so his landlord can graze cattle there. (I find myself wondering if we’ll see more of this theme in this year’s Booker nominees.) In this novel, Ivar has remained alone on the island after the emigration of his starving family and neighbors. A poverty-stricken Presbyterian minister, John Fergusson, has very hesitantly taken on the job of “clearing” the island, i. e., removing Ivar from his lifelong home. Tracing the developing relationship between the two men is the focus of the novel, as John works at understanding Ivar’s ancient, almost extinct language, and Ivar works on supplying enough food to keep them both alive. We also follow the difficult situation John’s wife, Mary, faces, left alone to survive as best she can. Her predicament is very moving. The novel is mostly sad, but relieved by moments of great joy. I particularly enjoyed Davies’ depiction of Ivar’s skill at surviving alone on an inhospitable island and John’s careful building of vocabulary in Ivar’s strange language. All the characters come alive for us, and we feel the mounting tension of what will happen once John knows enough of Ivar’s language to explain the reason for his presence on the island. Davies’ language is beautiful, particularly her descriptions of the island and its additional population of creatures, and Ivar’s relationship to them. While overall, I enjoyed this novel, I was not as impressed with it as I was with My Friends, or with Crooked Plow or This Other Eden. Clear moves along well to its beautiful climactic scene, but then to me, the final ending of the novel seemed somehow contrived, or just not satisfying.

And now I’ve completed Season of Migration to the North by Tayeb Salih, my last July book. My attention was called to this book by references to it and to its journalist author by the students in My Friends. The novel came out in the 60’s and according to the author’s Introduction, has had a checkered history of banning and unbanning in the Sudan and in surrounding countries. And due to its selling well mostly in countries that didn’t pay royalties, Salih claims to have derived no financial profit from the book, though he’s hopeful after the Penguin edition is released. I enjoyed reading this book very much. It was supposed to be August reading, but as I was just looking over the first few pages I found myself already hooked. I don’t really feel qualified to give a thoughtful review of Season; what I know about Sudanese history and culture, I deduced from the book itself. With some knowledge of these areas, particularly of its history of colonization by the British, I know I’d feel more comfortable that I had adequately grasped the novel’s meaning.

I can say that I thought its plot was compelling and well paced. The two main characters, the protagonist Mustapha Sa’eed and the unnamed narrator, have both returned to the small village on the banks of the Nile that is the narrator’s home village. Both have come from some years of residency in London, where Mustapha had established himself as a brilliant economist and the narrator had written a doctoral dissertation on a minor English poet. Both seem to be plagued with inner conflict in rural Sudan after living in cosmopolitan London, coping with the difficulties of cultural difference and attempting to establish for themselves integrated identities. And there are believable minor characters, both in the Sudanese setting and in the world of London. The narrator’s grandfather and his circle of elderly friends, who gather for tea and conversation (most of which revolves around sex); Mustapha’s wife, Hosna; Mahjoub, a classmate of the narrator, now a prominent local businessman; all of the women in England who become sexual prey for Mustapha: all of these characters came alive for me. Much about Mustapha’s past, some of which he confides to the narrator, is mysterious, not so much the revealed facts themselves as their significance. Some of the action in the novel is mysterious, both literally and as to significance. Salih’s writing itself is always beautiful, powerful, striking, especially in the most violent and tragic scenes. His descriptions of the Nile turn it also into a living force.

I found Season of Migration to the North very rewarding to read, and I appreciate that it has motivated me to learn more about the Sudan and about Arabic literature. The TBR seems always growing, but I do love those new rabbit holes.

>133 dianelouise100: I really enjoyed Season of Migration too. I read it some years ago in an NYRB edition. I find it hard to believe they didn't pay royalties. I also read his Wedding of Zein and Other Stories, but liked Season better.

>134 labfs39: I’ve been doing a little research on Saleh this afternoon and have discovered that he died in Feb., 2009; NYRB published Season in April of 2009. Saleh wrote the Intro to the Penguin Classics edition I read, which was published in 2003. I think the countries who didn’t do royalties were countries in geographical area of Sudan and the French(!!), all of whom published him much earlier, closer to the novel’s first publication date (in Sudan) in 1966. I’m sure he did receive royalties from Penguin and his estate from NYRB. Thankfully we have much stricter international copyright laws now!
This book apparently had a really screwy publication history, and while it made his reputation as a writer, it didn’t do that much for him financially. Though from what I can tell he certainly wasn’t impoverished. A biography might be interesting.

(I’m going down that rabbit hole already, and if you have any favorite works of history that concentrate on N. Africa, I’d like to know what you’d recommend for a beginner.)

>135 dianelouise100: Interesting, Diane, thanks for sharing your research. Unfortunately I have not read any history books of northern Africa, although I have borrowed Africans: History of a Continent. One series of books you might find interesting is Women Write Africa. Volume 4 covers Northern Africa. These anthologies contain background notes nearly as long as some of the pieces. Guaranteed to lead you down more rabbit holes!

>127 dianelouise100: Between your review and it's inclusion on the Booker long list, I will have to read this.

>137 RidgewayGirl: I’m very glad to see it on the list and hoping it means the other choices will mean more good reads. I think you’ll enjoy it!

>133 dianelouise100: Great review. I own a copy, and will have to get to this.

>139 rv1988: Thanks! I’ll be interested to see what you think of it.

Review of Enlightenment 4*

Any sort of plot summary of Sarah Perry’s Booker Longlisted Enlightenment would either be misleading or contain at least one spoiler; so I’ll just tell you what I can without risking any of your enjoyment of its many plot twists if you decide it’s a read for you.

I loved Perry’s The Essex Serpent, but find Enlightenment the better novel. It treats several issues relevant to the present day, the destructive effects of severe religious fundamentalism, female scientists receiving due credit for discoveries, to name two; is inhabited by interesting and believable characters whose interactions are both heartwarming and heart breaking; and has a sustained plot with lots of surprising twists. One of its many, perhaps its main, theme is exploring the effects of unrequited love, while its plot focusses on solving the mysterious disappearance of Maria Văduva Bell, 19th century amateur astronomer, who was mistress of the village’s main house and who now haunts both the village and the novel’s main character. This is an eerie story, beautifully written, which should certainly have broad appeal. And it’s a special gift to those of us interested in astronomy!

My main complaint (and the reason for my rating of 4*) about Enlightenment is its uneven pace. For about two thirds of the novel, pace is well controlled, moving the reader forward with the story and at the same time taking it slowly enough to allow for reflection and absorption. But then, as the novel continues toward its resolution, it begins to creep, and I really had to push to reach the end.

However, I do recommend it and would be happy to see it make the Booker Shortlist.

>141 dianelouise100: Thanks for that review. I had a similar problem when reviewing another Booker long-list book - The Safekeep. It’s reviewed on my thread here. But in the case of The Safekeep it was the other way around in terms of pace. Started slow, then sped up toward the end.

I have to get back to Enlightenment as I had bought it and another Booker nomination - Held came off hold at my library. So far I’m more impressed by Held than the other 2.5 I’ve read.

Since posting here, I’ve finished two more of the Booker novels, Held by Anne Michaels and Stone Yard Devotional by Charlotte Wood, and Fraud by Zadie Smith. And I’ve read goodly parts of Orbital and This Strange Eventful History, both yet to be finished, maybe. I’m obviously behind on reviews!

Review of Stone Yard Devotional by Charlotte Wood

Once again I am grateful for the Booker Longlist—otherwise I doubt I would have been interested in reading this novel by Australian writer Charlotte Wood. Its cover is not attractive, but suggests the bleak state of the world in which it’s set, and its premise of an atheist, a middle-aged woman “retired” to a monastic community to find “peace” is not exactly promising either. So, surprise!—I really liked Stone Yard Devotional and have no questions as to why it made the Longlist. (A relief after a couple of disappointments!)

When the story begins, the unnamed narrator is approaching a retreat center in a small religious community near the town where she grew up. She has just ended both her marriage and her career as director of an environmental institute fighting extinction and feels herself a total failure in a failing world. The facilities of the monastery and its rural setting are both ugly and impoverished. But the week there does give the narrator considerable relief by offering her a no pressure solitude where she at least is “doing no harm.” After the first visit she returns and eventually stays in an unspecified capacity: she joins in most of the sisters’ activities, seems completely invested in the community, but doesn’t believe in God.

Not far into the novel, Sister Simone (never given a title, but she is in charge) comes to the vegetable garden where Sister Bonaventure and the narrator are raking and says “‘Sit down, Bonaventure…. This is very…’ and then closed her mouth….’They’ve found her.’” At dinner this mysterious conversation is explained to the community: years ago, a member of the community, Sister Jenny, had disappeared while directing a center for battered women in Thailand. It is her bones which have been found, and now they must be brought home for burial. From this point the monastery must deal with crisis after crisis, during the time of Covid (?) restrictions, in order to bring the bones back and bury them. Not the least of the crises is an infestation (“plague”) of mice, due to the drought. An ironic touch for the preservation activist, our narrator.

The vehicle for the story is the journal kept by the narrator. Now back in her home town and freed from worldly responsibilities, memories flow over her, memories of her earlier life; of parents, especially her mother, and family; of schoolmates and events in her childhood and adolescence. The narrator is a sympathetic character and her reflections on her life are honest; her descriptions of her quirky companions are touching and believable. To me, the tone of the novel seemed one of quiet desperation combined with the narrator’s self-reflective examination of her past. The pace is slow, but an uneasy tension underlies the story. I thought Stone Yard Devotional an excellent novel, and I do not hesitate to recommend it. I had to buy a copy in order to read it, so now it’s already on my reread list.

>127 dianelouise100: I really liked My Friends too. Matar has such a light touch on his characters' interior life.

>144 dianelouise100: I'm bummed that my library (NYPL!) doesn't have Stone Yard Devotional, not even in print. I guess if it wins the Booker they'll have to get a copy or two...

>145 lisapeet: I hope it at least gets shortlisted, but I actually liked both My Friends and Held better, just my personal taste. I have to wonder just how much “personal taste” decides the winners in these events. How can it not with such very different novels, all excellent!

I finished my 6th novel from the Booker Longlist, Headshot by Rita Bullwinkel. Here’s my review:

The publicity descriptions of this debut novel about 8 teenaged girls competing in a 2-day world championship boxing match in Reno, Nevada, initially had no appeal for me, but I ordered it from the public library some time ago anyway, just in case. When it came in, I browsed over the first pages while still in the library, and wow! Those first few pages were written in such a unique and convincing style that I would have read the book for that alone. But I soon became very involved in the story, caring a lot about the characters and the outcome. What follows are some observations about what I liked in the novel.

Headshot is short and a fast read, with many pages devoted to the 7 bouts of the competition, where the pacing is perfectly managed. In between bouts we get slower passages, providing more information about the girls, their relatives, past experiences and the girls’ futures. All of the girls are convincing, sympathetic characters. And we also see the adult characters—coaches, referees, and relatives—mostly through teenaged eyes. We are in the child’s head at these times and hear her voice. So convincingly that I also heard some of my adolescent students from way back, Bullwinkel just got it right These children were so real to me; all of them have hearts set on winning this tournament.

The 2-minute matches themselves are suspenseful; there will be a girl who is best, but all, of course, must be exceptional boxers. The choreography of the rounds is fascinating; the violence of the sport is muted but it’s there. I winced a lot. Here is a passage from the mind of Andi Taylor in the first bout:

“As Andi is circling her fists and prodding Artemis she realizes that when she hits Artemis on her right shoulder, the rest of Artemis’s body goes left and down, slightly. It’s not a bad reaction to avoid a hit, but if Andi can smack Artemis on the left side of Artemis’s head as Artemis’s body falls to the left then Andi might be able to get in one blow, or two blows, or maybe even three, and then Andi has done it, is doing it, she’s hit Artemis’s right shoulder with her left fist and is doubling down on the left side of Artemis’s head with her right fist.”

I think Bullwinkel’s control of pace here is masterful.

In the evening of the first day after the preliminary matches are finished, the coaches, referees, and gym owner go out to one of the Reno night clubs. Here’s a passage evoking the mood:

“The adults wish they wanted anything as bad as these girl boxers want to be the best at something. These girl boxers want to be the best in the world at boxing. The girl boxers sleep through the night. The girl boxers do not dream of clubs or casinos or dancing. On the night of July fourteenth even Artemis Victor dreams only of winning.”

Although there is much action in the novel, and its outcome matters, it is a novel of character, not plot. And I loved being in the world of these girls for a while. In my opinion, Headshot competes well with other novels in the Booker Longlist —I find it one of the three best of the nominees of the six I read (Held and My Friends being the other two titles). I wouldn’t mind at all seeing Headshot make the Shortlist and maybe even win the award. And I will for sure be looking for Rita Bullwinkel’s next work.

>147 dianelouise100: You have convinced me to read it. Thank you for your stimulating review. I had decided to give it a miss as I don’t go in for boxing, but I can see why it’s worth reading now.

I haven’t read My Friends because I found it hard to follow on audio. I agree with you about Held.

Thanks, Kate. I hope you’ll enjoy Headshot. I’d expect it to be good to listen to.

>144 dianelouise100: >147 dianelouise100: These are two wonderful reviews of Headshot and Stone Yard Devotional. I'm looking forward to reading the latter, especially.

>150 rv1988: Thanks! I feel good about recommending either.

>147 dianelouise100: Great review. Thanks!

You’re welcome, Jerry. It was one debut that it was a pleasure to review!

Time now for a summary of my 3rd quarter reading:

I spent much time reading books from the Booker Long List, with a few other novels as well. It has been a very good reading quarter for me, but a not so good reviewing quarter.

Booker Longlist books were:

My Friends by Hisham Matar *
Enlightenment by Sarah Perry *
Held by Anne Michaels
Stone Yard Devotional by Charlotte Wood *
James by Percival Everett
Headshot by Rita Bullwinikel *

I enjoyed these 6 books and was happy to see that 3 of them made the SL. I thought them all very fine, with Held my personal winner.

In addition, I also read:
Clear by Carys Davies *
Season of Migration to the North by Tayeb Salih *
The Fraud by Zadie Smith
Overhead in a Balloon by Mavis Gallant (short stories)
The Manor by Isaac Bashevis Singer
The Estate by Isaac Bashevis Singer
The Radetzky March by Joseph Roth
Enon by Paul Harding*

Books with asterisks were reviewed earlier in the thread.

I have just completed Enon, which I liked a lot, though not so well as This Other Eden, also by Paul Harding. I’ve not reviewed several of these listed books which were well worth reviewing, and I hope to comment on some if only to remember what I liked about them and some more specific details. I seemed to be pushing myself a little to read long novels, particularly the two Singer novels, which were meant to be one work of 800 some pages. I would never have remembered the dozens of characters if I’d not read them back to back.

I think my goal for this last quarter will be to read more slowly with space after each book to at least reflect on it or make some notes.

Review of Enon

Enon is a beautifully told story of the main character/narrator’s grief over the death of his 13-year old daughter in a bike accident. The story, told exclusively from main character Charlie Crosby’s pov, follows Charlie from the time of Kate’s fatal accident in September through the year till the following September. Here is the novel’s opening paragraph:

“Most men in my family make widows of their wives and orphans of their children. I am the exception. My only child, Kate, was struck and killed by a car while riding her bicycle home from the beach one afternoon in September, a year ago. She was thirteen. My wife, Susan, and I separated soon afterward.”

We accompany Charlie’s despairing journey through that first year of grief. Throughout the story we are aware of the close relationship Charlie had with his only child. His memories of Kate’s childhood, his own childhood and his love of sharing things with Kate that had held lifelong significance for him make up much of the material of the story. This novel has a strong sense of place and of a family’s history in a place. Enon is a small New England village on the coast, steeped in local history, and one of Charlie’s enthusiasms is researching that history, and sharing it with Kate along with the traditions of the village.

To aid in overcoming his unbearable grief, Charlie turns to painkillers: alcohol and drugs. Instead of sleeping he walks the town at night, around lake and forest, and spends many nights at the cemetery where Kate and other family members are buried. He considers suicide. If I had not known from the opening paragraph that he survives this year, I would have feared an ending as tragic as the beginning of the novel.

Harding presents Charlie’s story with compassion, and I was completely drawn in to this story of terrible loss and killing grief. I’d recommend Enon to readers who enjoy character driven novels that are beautifully imagined and written.

>155 dianelouise100: This sounds lovely, but with such a heavy subject. I can't imagine it was an easy read.

>155 dianelouise100: I loved This Other Eden, but didn't like Tinkers as much. I think it will be hard for him to top the former for me, even though he's a very good writer.

>156 rv1988: Definitely not an easy read, and not for anyone who is not in the mood for sadness. But for me it was compelling and the sadness is relieved somewhat by Charlie’s memories and by a sort of eerie quality of the night/cemetery passages.

>157 labfs39: This Other Eden is one of my all time favorites. But I do enjoy Harding’s writing and will probably venture on to Tinkers at some point—then he’ll have to write something else! Have you not read Enon? I think it is about the same family as Tinkers. This Other Eden seems a sort of branching out.

October has not been a good month for reading or for keeping up on LT threads—too many other pressures, many medical both for me and for my housemate, and too many books that just couldn’t hold my attention under the circumstances. And some frustration with finding books I really want to read—Enemies: A Love Story by Singer seems to be inaccessible via library resources and Creation Lake has many holds ahead of mine.
I’ve finally opted for something completely different, rereading some Thomas Hardy novels. I’m now about halfway through The Return of the Native and caught up in it. What descriptive powers Hardy has! I think I last read this in college, so the plot holds plenty of suspense for me. I’ll also try to reread The Mayor of Casterbridge soon, and am looking forward to a group read of The Family Moskat (another Singer) soon. I think my concentration is improving and I’m getting back into the habit of reading!

While not reading longer works this month, I have been reading shorter pieces of nonfiction—essays and letters, and am finding this a satisfying and restful way to get some reading in when longer works do not appeal. My current collections include The Habit of Being, a collection of Flannery O’Connor’s letters; The Golden Age of American Essays: 1945-1970; The Common Reader, First Series by Virginia Woolf; Michel de Montaigne: Essays; and LOA’s volume collecting James Baldwin’s essays. I really appreciate Jerry’s (rocketjk’s) thread for this idea of using short pieces. The variety I’m finding is such a pleasure just now.

>160 dianelouise100: I’m the same way. I just can’t get absorbed in much at all.

Re Enemies , A Love Story. The 1989 movie is on Prime. It was nominated for 3 Oscars 4 wins & 10 nominations total. I’m going to watch it. I so loved that book. And obviously Isaac could have any woman he wanted. He must have ben such a fascinating man.

I checked and it’s on Amazon. Free on Kindle Unlimited.

I don’t understand why so few people have read it. Here’s the movie trailer -
https://www.imdb.com/video/vi1168441625/?ref_=tt_vi_i_1

Thanks for the info about finding Enemies. I had thought of actually ordering a copy, I so prefer books, but I think this one is short enough that I won’t mind a virtual book.

I’m looking for something to hold my interest and nothing is working

I know the feeling so well! There are so many good books out there, and I just have to face up to the fact that not everyone of them is for me. I’m also being hard to please because I loved The Radetzky March and the 2 Singer novels I read so much. I did like Enon at end of Sept., but only read it because my bookstore friend made me a gift of it. And I do love Paul Harding. Do you think you’ll be up for The Family Moskat? I could start it whenever you and Cindy want. We thought the first of Nov. might work out, but I could do earlier, too.

>164 dianelouise100: November 1 fine by me!

I didn’t post at all on this thread in the month of November because like others I was not too successful a reader after the first week. After several trips to the library, checking out some promising titles, looking them over for a few days, then returning them all, it became clear that I didn’t have the concentration for book length works. I finished only two books, both very short, both within the last week of the month: Mrs. Dalloway and Reason and Revelation in the Middle Ages. My short attention span convinced me that I could use some “between reads,” so I set up a selection of collected essays, short fiction, and letters that gave me a sense of finishing things. I’ll list these and my readings in them in the next post.

Between reads read in November:

The Golden Age of the American Essay: 1945-1970
James Agee: The Nation: Democratic Vistas (1945)
Reinhold Niebuhr: Humor and Faith (1946)
George F. Kennan: The Sources of Soviet Conduct (1947)
Edmund Wilson: Paul Rosenfeld: Three Phases (1947)
Walter Lippman: The Dilemma of Liberal Democracy: Should the
Majority Rule? (1947)

The Common Reader: First Series by Virginia Woolf
The Common Reader
The Pastons and Chaucer
On Not Knowing Greek
The Elizabethan Lumber Room
Notes on an Elizabethan Play
Montaigne
The Duchess of Newcastle
Rambling round Evelyn
Defoe
Addison
George Eliot
Joseph Conrad

Medieval Humanism and Other Studies by R. W. Southern
Bede
St. Anselm
Meister Eckhart
Medieval Humanism

The Habit of Being: Letters of Flannery O’Connor
I read the letters from 1948 through 1953

Tales of Henry James, Norton Critical Editions
Daisy Miller

>166 dianelouise100: Thank you for this post which many of us can resonate with.

>168 kjuliff: It’s been a comfort to me to see from others’ posts that many were having similar problems with turning their attention to a book. I’m hoping to read more in December. Thanks, Kate.

I have finished Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying, last read long enough ago that I had some major surprises, which was fun. This novel is his second novel in the series of Yoknapatawfa County novels, coming after The Sound and the Fury. Here we are introduced to the dysfunctional family of Anse Bundren, who live on a very poor farm about 20 miles from Jefferson, in the vicinity of Frenchman’s Bend.

As the novel opens, Addie Bundren, Anse’s wife, lies dying, on her bed in a window, outside which she watches her eldest son Cash building her coffin. Her daughter Dewey Dell attends her keeping a large fan moving over Addie’s bed. The other sons, Darl and Jewell, go about the business of the farm, while Anse and a friend sit in the shade on the porch and admire the youngest son’s recently caught fish.

The main characters, some of the neighbors, and strangers share in telling the story, so that we get multiple points of view, centered on one character, then on another. From the outsiders, we learn of Anse’s laziness, his shiftlessness and self-pity which will always call forth a neighbor’s help. We learn that Darl is intuitive and that he and Dewey Dell communicate without words. And that the neighbors all find Darl “strange.” Jewell and Darl compete for Addie’s love, but it seems that Jewell is fixated on and cares for nothing else beside his horse. And the youngest, nine-year-old Vardaman, is unable to process the loss of his mother and begins to identify her with the large fish he has caught.

When Addie dies, the Bundren family must carry her by wagon and mule team, through high rain and flooded river, the twenty miles to Jefferson to be buried in her family plot. Other members of the family have their reasons for the journey to Jefferson as well—turning the story into a sad mock epic, where not every quest will be fulfilled. There is some grim humor, but most of the story, to me, is bitterly ironic.

This novel includes fire, flood, catastrophe, and insanity, keeping the reader alert and entertained. I agree with the general opinion that it makes a good introduction to reading William Faulkner.

I’m sorry about your state of mind after this election. I’m sick about it too, but hiding in my books and work. I do admire what you’re doing to get in some reading. Some really intriguing titles in The Common Reader.

And, of course, fun to see your take on Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying. Vardaman, of course, has the best line - a full chapter in like five words.

>171 dchaikin: Thanks, Dan. And the short readings are giving me some reading ideas—I never thought I’d like Henry James or Virginia Woolf, so if I can follow up with more of their work, I’ll have a wide range of reading possibilities.

I listened to the audiobook of Chaucer’s “General Prologue” and “Physician’s Tale” from The Canterbury Tales, narrated in Middle English by Richard Bebb. Bebb’s Middle English was very fine; I read in the notes from Audible that he was coached by Derek Brewer, a medieval scholar famous for his reading of Middle English. This AB follows the Middle English readings with a modern English reading of both sections. The GP provides wonderful realistic portraits of 14th-century English men and women from all classes, all pilgrims on the road to Canterbury. “The Physician’s Tale” was the right length to fill the space, I guess. It retells the story of virtuous Virginia and her knightly father Virginius who beheads her in order to save her honor, a “legend” that Chaucer attributes to Livy. Modern reaction: “puh-leeese!” This tale is my least favorite of Chaucer’s saint’s legends, with the possible exception of “The Prioress’ Tale.”

I very much enjoyed listening to Middle English and look forward to the other two audiobooks, which will include “The Knight’s Tale,” “The Pardoner’s Tale, “ “The Nun’s Priest’s Tale,” and “The Franklin’s Tale.”

I love that you’re pursuing this. Sounds terrific so far, even as over the top as the physicians tale is.

>173 dianelouise100: I'm going to have to check that out on Audible. I'm focusing on things beginning with C next year, so this might be the time to revisit Chaucer, and I would love to listen to it in Middle English.

>175 WelshBookworm: I think you’d enjoy it

In reading terms, I’ve not had a great 4th quarter. After October I was less focused than I like to be when I’m reading, but I feel that as the year nears its end, I have a great deal more energy and am excited to speculate about further exploration of the things that have piqued my interest this year. I did finish my nonfiction book for the quarterly prompt for RTT—the Middle Ages— and I’m now reading Queens of the Conquest, the first volume in Alison Weir’s Medieval Queens series, which is a brick, but a fascinating brick. Might finish it in 2024.

The Church and Society in the Middle Ages by R. W. Southern is the second volume of Penguin’s History of the Church series. I found it a readable and informative exploration of the strong interrelationship between the Church and other political and social forces of the time. King and Pope were often in conflict over issues of power and territory, conflict that was sometimes settled with violence. Southern examines the history of various religious institutions against the social context, discussing the secular clergy, that is, popes, bishops, and parish priests, and the ever growing number of religious orders, Benedictines, Cistercians, Augustinians, Franciscans, and Domenicans. I have a particular interest in the history of the Franciscan friars and found his discussion of their founding and growth my favorite part of the book. This book was published in the 1960’s and has sat unread on my shelf since graduate school. I’m grateful for the prompt which finally motivated me to read it. I learned a lot and also enjoyed a beautifully written and carefully organized review of much that was once familiar.