A stocking full o' books

Here's the books I got for Christmas. That's the German translation of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, which I know so well that it's easy to read in German even without a dictionary handy. That copy of Emma is also in German. Quite a German themed stack, given Christopher Isherwood's Berlin Stories, which I'm about to start reading. A new Connie Willis to look forward to, and Miss Marple just for fun.

I'm super excited to finally own Sam Starbuck's two novels, and one of them is signed! I've already reread Charitable Getting since Christmas, so I'll have a review of it soon.

Best Books 2010

It seems to always turn out that some of my favourite books are completely obvious, and some take more thought. Both last year and this year, my favourite nonfiction and two of my favourite fiction books were obvious, and the third fiction was not so obvious.

Nonfiction
Bluestockings, by Jane Robinson - This is a wonderful, wonderful book, full of fascinating, hilarious, and infuriating anecdotes about very real women who just wanted the right to learn things. Read my original review here.

Fiction
Blackout/All Clear, by Connie Willis - I know these are two books, in a physical sense, but I don't think they were originally intended to be separate, and they are one story. One giant, glorious story. I read 350 pages of All Clear in one day because I literally couldn't put it down. I learned more about World War II here than I ever did in school. Connie Willis really does just keep getting better. Original reviews are here and here.

Major Pettigrew's Last Stand, by Helen Simonson - I loved this book. It dealt with all sorts of important issues, and it did so the more effectively because it was such a good story on its own. Original review here.

The Post-Office Girl, by Stefan Zweig - This was a beautiful and very sad book. While the other books on this list are here because I loved reading them so much, this one is here because I think it's important that it be here. Not that it was not a good reading experience, because it was, but it was not the same kind of experience that more lighthearted books were. Read the original review here.

Review: Bellwether

Reading All Clear left me booked out. Too much of a good thing all at once meant I could find no motivation to read for days afterwards. Often, the best way to cure that is to pick up another book by the same author, so I ordered Connie Willis's novel Bellwether from the library.

Sandra Foster works at the HiTek corporation, studying fads--hair bobbing in the 1920s, Rubik's cubes, coffee-drinking, smoking, anti-smoking, and so on. She wants to know how they start, but there are so many possibilities it seems an impossible question. Bennett O'Reilly works for the same company studying chaos theory and group behaviour, but the two have never met--until Flip, the incompetent assistant, misdelivers a package. Life at HiTek is certainly chaotic, and fads are everywhere. Bennett, however, seems to be unusually fadless. Fads just slide off him, and this is why when Sandra meets him she is instantly fascinated. She thinks his fadlessness may be a key to the origin of fads, so she does everything possible to keep him at HiTek, including proposing a joint project involving a herd of uncooperative sheep. They face all kinds of hindrances to finding the answers to their questions, but in all the chaos, the answer does seem to be almost within reach.

I have to admit I was a little disappointed. After the completely wonderful experience of Blackout and All Clear, Bellwether was kind of unremarkable. I was probably expecting too much. All of Willis's time travel books have been written in 3rd person, but Bellwether was 1st person, which I've never liked very much. It was also set in Boulder, Colorado in 1995, which automatically makes it less interesting than Oxford in 2060. It was a good story, though. Connie Willis's books always hold together so well. There's always a few themes that the characters seem to be stuck on, and I think these help glue everything together. I liked Bellwether a lot, even if it didn't suck me in the way All Clear did. 

Gifts

There's a certain danger in giving books as gifts. It's the same problem that arises with recommending books. My  mother kept recommending her favourite books to her book group, and no one ever liked them, so she just stopped recommending them. Our favourite books feel like ours, and suggesting them or giving them as gifts feels like offering up our own work for judgement. On the other hand, books make a convenient gift. You don't have to figure out what to give, just which one to give.

I'm a terrible gift giver. I make things for people because it takes less work and less thought than buying things (I know this seems counterintuitive). For most holidays and most people I just skip the gift entirely. But there are one or two people I'll give books to. It's only people whose taste I know extremely well, or people whose taste I think I have some chance of shaping.

The books I'm most inclined to give are those which I've found most readable. Not necessarily the best, but the ones I sped through and read aloud. Connie Willis is one author whose books I think would make a good gift. To Say Nothing of the Dog in particular--fabulous and interesting and lighthearted. Major Pettigrew's Last Stand would also make a good gift, and while we're on the name, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day.

Do you give books as gifts?

Review: All Clear

I spent last Sunday reading over half of this 640 page book, when I should have been writing a final paper. I just couldn't stop. I had to know what was going to happen.

All Clear, by Connie Willis, is the sequel to Blackout. I would recommend reading them right in a row; All Clear assumes you remember Blackout well. I read it in September, so fortunately I still had a pretty good idea what had happened. Reading them right in a row sounds a little overwhelming, though. These are powerful and suspenseful books. Finishing All Clear left me feeling exhausted, and I'm still thinking about it days later, unable to really start another book.

Polly, Eileen, and Mike, Oxford historians from the year 2060, are still stuck in the London Blitz in 1940. They are dealing not only with nightly bombs, but also worry over why no one has come to rescue them and a nagging fear that they may have somehow changed history. Prevailing time travel theory says that historians can't change the past, but small discrepancies between their knowledge of history and their living experience of it provoke suspicions that something they've done has caused changes which could be disastrous. World War II was full of moments which, had they gone slightly differently, would have completely changed he outcome of the war. But they do have options--other historians have been to the war, and there's hope that one of them could take a message back to Oxford. But the world seems to be conspiring to keep them in 1940, and options are disappearing fast.

As with Blackout, I've come out of All Clear feeling much more knowledgeable about World War II than any class ever managed. All Clear makes the war feel immediate. Though the characters from 2060 know Britain wins the war, their worries over changing history make them as uncertain of the future as any of the "contemps". And knowing Connie Willis's writing, I know she's not afraid to put her characters through a lot of difficulties.

The book is full of a sense of things coming together. Time is a chaotic system, but that doesn't mean it doesn't all add up to something. Polly, Mike and Eileen frequently feel like the world is trying to keep them in 1940, and you can tell that there is a coherent explanation for all this. This is what makes the book so suspenseful. You know that if you just read one more chapter, a little bit more of the picture will come clear.

This was a wonderful book. I feel like I'm not doing it justice, but I loved it, and I couldn't put it down, and I really do have to read everything else Connie Willis has ever written.

Review: Blackout

This is one of the best books I've read in ages. But then, Connie Willis's books always are.

Continuing in the time-traveling world of Doomsday and To Say Nothing of the Dog, the Oxford historians of 2060 are going to World War II. Polly is in the London Blitz in 1940, working in an Oxford Street department store. Eileen is a maid in Warwickshire, helping take care of troublesome evacuees. Michael is on his way to Dover to interview the survivors of Dunkirk. The prevailing theory of time travel is that historians cannot affect history, that they are always prevented from going to major historical divergence points, but when Michael makes it to such a divergence point he begins to question that theory. And when the "drops" that are supposed to take them home to 2060 stop working, and they're all stuck sheltering from air raids in the London Underground, things begin to spiral out of control.

I learned more about World War II reading this novel than I ever did in school. Not only about major events, Dunkirk or when and why the Blitz started, but about smaller things, like how Londoners dealt with the bombing and where they took shelter, and the ways in which life went on. I learned from Blackout that when Buckingham Palace was bombed, the Queen said "Now I can look the East End in the face," because it had received the brunt of the bombing. This is (as far as one can tell) a true story. Enormous amounts of research must go into books like this, and here it is woven in extremely well. And it is not only facts like this that are transmitted, but the whole mood of the war. After reading large chunks of the book, I found myself feeling kind of paranoid, like I was waiting for a bomb to hit. Blackout sweeps you up and dumps you into its setting. Like the historians visiting World War II, you know Britain wins, but Connie Willis has enough skill to make both you and the historians doubt that.

The book jumps around in time a lot, especially in 1944 and different parts of 1940, but it never gets confusing. The date is always well labelled, and you soon come to associate each place/time with the relevant character. This also gives you a very good idea of the shape of the war. The book leaves plenty more to learn about World War II, but it gives you an incredibly good introduction and tells an incredibly good story.

The second part of the story comes out October 19th, and I'm so impatient I'm rather contemplating ordering it. I can't remember the last time I bought a new hardcover, so this says a lot.

Without the library

The entire Seattle Public Library system was closed last week due to budget cuts. And not just the buildings were closed--you couldn't return books to the book drops or order anything from the library catalog. Luckily three of my books arrived the day before it closed, so the closure was not as painful as I expected it to be, and I had plenty to read at home anyway.

Here are the books I was reading during my library-less week. Both arrived at the last possible moment, for which I was very thankful, as they kept me busy. I also checked out The Little Prince, but I haven't got to it yet. You'll hear more about these next week.

I know libraries all over the place are seeing similar effects of budget cuts. And I can't possibly express how important I think libraries are.

State of the union

I've managed to post every single day since the 7th of August, now exactly a month ago, which I am decidedly proud of, and it's been very nice to have so much time to read and blog. Going into the autumn, though, this may start to change. I'm planning to spend September organizing the Nova Project's drama department and hanging out there, even though I graduated. The idea of getting to be at school but never having to go to classes is entirely lovely, and I've been wanting to organize all the costumes and props for the last three years, but not had time because of classes. So it's an ideal situation. And then at the end of September I start college, and no doubt my posting at that point will become much less frequent. I'll try to keep it regular, though, and no doubt I'll be reading lots of interesting things and have them to talk about.

I've still got that huge pile of books to read, and it's gotten even bigger with more books I keep remembering I've been meaning to read, like The Forsyte Saga and That Hideous Strength, so far that I had to turn it into two piles. I am slowly but steadily working at The Worm Ouroboros and Brideshead Revisited, so keep a lookout for posts on those.

I haven't bought any books lately, having been of an odd mood that talks me out of buying anything. Funnily enough books are the one thing this mood least applies to, despite being of the least immediate use. My text file of books I want to find has gotten considerably longer lately, though, what with finally catching up on all the book blogs I read, so there are some things I'm definitely on the lookout for used copies of. And Connie Willis is starting to look appealing again, after To Say Nothing of the Dog and The Doomsday Book last year.

Mysterious happenings

I don't know what happened, but suddenly I'm extremely busy! Odd, for summer.

Somewhere in the midst of the business, though, I've found time to introduce myself to Dorothy L. Sayers and her lovely detective, Lord Peter Wimsey. I've meant to since I read To Say Nothing of the Dog last year, and I can hardly remember what relation that book had to Lord Peter any more but I know it did. Not to mention a couple of bloggers with a fondness for the fellow, who've helped along my interest.

My other current reading is Bloodhound, which is 500-some pages, so I rather needed a book to read on buses that wouldn't be quite so heavy. Whose Body? stepped in quite admirably, being paperback and less than half the size of Bloodhound.

I must confess I'd solved the mystery before Lord Peter did--I had it around page 113, he didn't get it until 136. The draw of the book isn't really the mystery, though, so it doesn't really matter. The characters are really the best part, especially Lord Peter who is fascinatingly varied in his interests, and human, and clever, and not a cliche at all unless because he's so classic. I'm also rather fond of his butler, Bunter. Despite my easy solution of the mystery, though, it is really nice to read a mystery. I used to be quite taken with the genre when I was about eight or nine, and essentially haven't read any since. Oh, I guess I did read an Agatha Christie a while ago, but that's it.

So now I've pulled out all my mother's old copies of Lord Peter novels and stacked them up next to my current to-read pile, making it about the same height of books again. Oh dear. Lots to read.

Booking Through Thursday---on a Thursday!

Here is today's Booking Through Thursday:

Are there any particular worlds in books where you’d like to live?
Or where you certainly would NOT want to live?
What about authors? If you were a character, who would you trust to write your life?

I'd very much like to live in the Villa San Girolamo in The English Patient. I could do without the mines all over, but the room the English patient lives in sounds wonderful, and the fact that it's all crumbling would just make it better--it would be a bit like living in the past, but with present, living flowers all around you. The world outside the villa, however, not so much. And in reality, of course, I might not like it so much. But for a visit that would be great.

The Oxford of To Say Nothing of the Dog I'd also be pretty keen on, because what's better than living in Oxford and being able to time travel?

I can't actually think of a place in a book that I would really not want to live, although I'm sure such a place is out there. I think I probably avoid books that are about places that I would not for any reason want to live in. There are lots of books that I would not actually want to live in even if there are appealing bits of them, but none that sound wholly unpleasant.

As for an author who I'd like to write my life--overall, I think Pamela Dean could do a creditable job of it, but that's mostly because I like her writing so much. I think if we're talking about my life at present and somebody writing a novel about me as I am now, I'd like Eva Rice to have a go at it. She wrote The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets, which was a great book, with a main character who is about my age, and which captures incredibly well being that age. Something in that book, though none of the events or the settings or anything much about it resembles my life, something really reminded me of myself.

Books read in the month of July

I love the smell of rain. The sound of it in the gutters. The way it fogs up the windows on the bus. It's really excellent weather to stay inside reading, which is why I was standing at the bus stop downtown at 9:30 at night in it.

Here are the books I read in July:

1. The House With the Clock in Its Walls (John Bellairs), 179 pages, finished 7/1/08

2. Versailles (Kathryn Davis), 206 pages, finished 7/5/08

3. Doomsday Book (Connie Willis), 578 pages, finished 7/8/08

4. Havemercy (Jaida Jones and Danielle Bennett), 388 pages, finished 7/25/08

5. A Shropshire Lad (A.E. Housman), finished 7/26/08

6. Narrative Poems (C.S. Lewis), 178 pages, finished 7/28/08

All pretty nifty. Not to mention, that whole writing a novel thing. Most of one, anyway.

Also, during the month, I have started reading The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje), Tales from the Macabre (Daphne du Maurier), Madame Bovary (Gustave Flaubert), Three Men in a Boat (Jerome K. Jerome), and The Poems of Oscar Wilde (these last three via DailyLit). I've already talked a bit about The English Patient, and I'm not far enough into the others to really comment on them, except that Three Men in a Boat is most entertaining.

Virginia Woolf, tricoteuses, plague

So, I went to Vashon Island to visit my grandparents and watch the fireworks for 4th of July, and naturally, went and bought more books. I have acquired The Letters of Virginia Woolf, volume 2--1912 - 1922, and a book on fairies and similar creatures which is a reprint of a 19th century book. I can't remember the title or author and am too lazy to look it up, but it's got fairies by country, which is pretty interesting. I read the Introduction to the Letters on the bus home from Vashon, and started reading some of the letters today. They are extremely pleasant to read. I should really get around to reading the rest of Mrs. Dalloway. I like how very frank she is about things that are usually skirted over in the time (or now). Things like sex--she counts the number of books she has read since she lost her virginity, which is just amusing. Anyway, I'm looking forward to reading more.

While on Vashon, I finished reading Kathryn Davis's Versailles. It paints (and this is very much the best word for it) a very representative portrait of the place, and if, like a portrait, it doesn't give you all the details just by looking at it, maybe those details aren't so important anyway. The chapters go back and forth between ones narrated by Marie Antoinette herself, ones that outline the architecture of Versaille, and ones that are little playlets featuring the characters. It's a lovely book, and like always, I find myself morbidly fascinated by all the mentions of the French Revolution--the tricoteuses, tiny toy guillotines. I suppose lovely isn't quite the right word.

I am now in the middle of Doomsday Book, by Connie Willis. I've previously read To Say Nothing of the Dog, which is utterly fabulous, and while this one isn't quite as enchanting it is nevertheless drawing me in very well, and managing to be almost equally fascinating in the different storylines in 2054 and 1320.