"The Trick to Time" by Kit de Waal

This is not my kind of book.

I should have known better than to even try it. Sam bought our copy, mainly because everyone was talking about how great de Waal's first novel (My Name is Leon) was, but this one had a more interesting title. He tried to read it but found it boring and didn't get very far through it before he gave up ("it just goes on endlessly about dolls"). I thought maybe he was being unfair, and maybe he didn't give it long enough. Plus, it was published by Penguin! They're usually pretty good at picking books I like. 

Oh well. Not this time. 

This is the story of Mona the middle-aged Irish dollmaker. Actually there's a carpenter who makes the dolls, and Mona dresses them and paints faces on them. Mona's mundane life in her doll shop is interspersed with memories from forty years before, when she was newly married to William. At least there is some element of mystery that propels the reader to find out what happened in the intervening time.

So why was this book not a good match for me? Part of it is the overall general sense of the book. It seems to be a typical example of Women's Fiction (not to be confused with a Beach Read, though I am sure there is some overlap). There is something that bothers me about writing that is targeted to women readers. I want to read something that doesn't try to pigeonhole me.

Specifically, there were several other things that rubbed me the wrong way. I found the characters flat. And for the ones that were slightly more dimensional, their facets were incongruous. I think back to books I've read where the characters were utterly real. I can't pinpoint the difference between those and these, but there definitely is one. These characters were all acting parts, and not very good at it. Maybe I would have felt more drawn to the main character if I'd been through what she had; lucky for me, I have not. However, most really good books can make me feel the experience I'm reading about even if I've never experienced it myself. 

I thought at times the writing was quite cliched--of course the main character gets a new, short, chic haircut halfway through the book. And of course when her love interest sees her for the first time with her newly shorn locks, her hand immediately "flies up" to touch her new 'do. 

And yes, there's a trick to this book (not just to time), and yes I guessed the solution long before it was revealed. I blame the cover quote, which made me aware that the book has "one of those endings that makes you want to reread the whole book." That, put together with my tendency towards speculation, set me on the right track. But rather than a feeling of satisfaction when I found out I was right, it was disappointing. Not least because the ending certainly did *not* make me want to reread the whole book.

"The Rise, The Fall, and The Rise" by Brix Smith Start

This was not a typical read for me, as a quick glance at the rest of my blog would tell you. I definitely gravitate more towards novels, and if I were to get a wild hair and want to read an autobiography or memoir, I would probably choose one by someone I've heard of before. But Sam, who has been a fan of The Fall since he was 14, idolized Brix Smith. He's the one who bought this book, and read it first, then told me he thought I should read it, because Start's is a pretty amazing story.

And he's right. It's pretty incredible, the circles Start has traveled in and the successes (and not just in one field) she has experienced. Although my initial impression of the book was that it was a bit disjointed and full of name-dropping, I'd say by the time she met Mark E. Smith she'd found her rhythm in writing and in relaying her memories, and even for someone like me (clueless about the history of The Fall) it was interesting to read. I wouldn't label it as a Must-Read for the random person in general, but I do think that anyone interested in The Fall would love it.

It's a bit disorienting, knowing that Sam actually interviewed Mark E Smith (twice!) and came away with the sense that he was a nice person ("almost avuncular," Sam says) when obviously, on the whole, he was pretty horrible to Brix and the other band members. Sam has also read Renegade: The Lives and Tales of Mark E Smith" and says Smith doesn't even mention Brix (they were married for five or six years!) and just glosses over the albums they created together, despite the fact that many think they're the best of The Fall's albums. 

"Klara and the Sun" by Kazuo Ishiguro

My lovely husband surprised me with this book just over a week ago. Surprise books are the best! Especially when it's a beautiful brand new hardcover by a can't-miss author. I believe it was Marie Kondo who once said the time to read a book is as soon as you get it. And I think she's right. There are some unread books on my shelves that I've had for years, and I can't help but wonder if I'll ever actually get around to reading them. I think, unlike travel which is only enhanced by spending time looking forward to it, I am probably at peak excitement about a book when I first acquire it. Waiting to read something doesn't make me more eager to read it; it just makes it more likely that I'll come across something I'd rather read in the meantime. 

Anyway, in case you hadn't guessed, I wasted no time in diving into Klara and the Sun. The story is told from the point of view of an AF (Artificial Friend), which is basically a life-size solar-powered robotic companion doll (albeit one that is quite technologically sophisticated). Klara starts out in a store in the city, until she is purchased to live with a girl named Josie. 

To me the most interesting thing about this book is the exploration of the thoughts found in an artificial mind. Klara is not completely emotionless, but she does not experience feelings with true human intensity. She is very observant and can make logical connections based on her observations, but she doesn't necessarily understand everything she sees, and the reader is limited by the boundaries of Klara's realizations.

Overall the story had the feeling of a parable or a fable, as if what was on the surface was simple and straightforward but floating on top of deeper, hidden meanings. Though I must admit if there were deeper, hidden meanings . . . I did not get them. Did you?

“Night Waking” by Sarah Moss

Sarah Moss is three for three with me. She is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors. And the great thing is that she has four more novels just waiting for me to read them! 

In Night Waking, Moss tells the story of Oxford history fellow Anne Bennett, inextricably trapped in motherhood and an exile of sorts on an isolated Scottish island. She never has enough time to work on her book (an academic work on the history of childhood), or enough sleep, or enough support from her husband whose priority is counting puffins, and (though she would never admit this or maybe even realize it) she is addicted to the extent of her young sons’ need for her. 

Anne’s story is interspersed with excerpts from her writing, quotes from people like Anna Freud whose works are referenced in her book, and the history of the (fictional) island of Colsay on which her family is living. Throw in a police investigation regarding the bones of an infant that turn up in the garden and you’ve got yourself a pretty intriguing mix. 

Though the book has elements of mystery that any good police investigation would indicate, the dominating force of this story is Anne’s fraught relationship with motherhood. And Moss’s writing is so intensely real that I had to remind myself I was not Anne, and that I had no cause to be irritated with my husband who (quite unlike Anne’s Giles) is a superstar of a husband and father and doesn’t care a lick about puffins.

I wonder why I am so partial to female authors? Though I have certainly enjoyed books written by men, my list of favorite authors is (with one obvious exception) almost exclusively female. I think it must be, as happened with this book, that a female writer is naturally more able to write in a way that connects with my female mind. 

"Leave the World Behind" by Rumaan Alam

Here's another book that my sweet husband gave to me for Christmas. I'd never heard of it, or the author, which I suppose means I didn't peruse any Best Books of 2020 lists. 

Clay and Amanda have temporarily left the bustle of New York City behind and rented a house in a quiet part of Long Island where they plan to spend a relaxing week with their children. Late one night, not long into their stay, they are startled by a knock on the front door. It's G.H. and Ruth, who say they're the owners of the rental; they've fled Manhattan after a widespread and unexplained blackout. 

The book delves into tensions between the strangers, and their fears of the unknown; Ruth and G.H. don't bring much news with them, and due to the remote location of the house they are basically cut off from society, which means no news in the Information Age--though in this case, no news is almost certainly not good news.

The book is written from an omniscient point of view. With every line of dialogue, each character's unspoken thoughts are shared as well. The effect, to me, is the distinct opposite of subtle; but despite the lack of subtlety, the story is still mysterious and compelling. The omniscience does not give the reader a complete view of what is going on in the world; we get a bit more information than the frightened group at the vacation rental, but not much more.

There was a nice side effect to the anxiety induced by the book: when I finished reading, I felt a sense of relief as I returned to the real world. So, yeah, we're in a pandemic and America is divided politically, but things could be worse!

Does the cover art remind anyone else of the scene where Barb disappeared in Stranger Things? No? Just me?

"The Invisible Land" by Hubert Mingarelli

I'm pretty sure I finished reading this book a week or so ago, and I'm pretty sure too much time has passed for me to do it justice in a blog post. I really need to be more careful to blog when a book is fresh on my mind (AND before I've allowed it to become eclipsed by reading other books). 

This is another of Mingarelli's subtle but powerful books (that is, of course, impeccably translated). It's novella-sized and, I think, better consumed in one sitting. It tells the story of a photojournalist and the young soldier assigned to drive him around the German countryside in July 1945 in order to photograph German families in front of their houses. As the days pass, apprehension builds quietly. 

Hubert Mingarelli, who sadly passed away just over a year ago, has written a number of novellas centered on or around the Europe of World War II. He is certainly not alone in writing about that time period, but he is unique in his treatment of the topic: oddly serene while simultaneously rife with tension.

"Big Macs & Burgundy: Wine Pairings for the Real World" by Vanessa Price with Adam Laukhuf

I told Bookworm Child (who I suppose will technically be Bookworm Adult in a few short months?) that the only thing I wanted for Christmas was for her to tidy her bedroom. Well, her bedroom is still a mess, but she gave me a lovely gift bag stuffed full of all kinds of things that she knew I would like. This book was one of them. 

I'd actually seen this book somewhere in the weeks leading up to Christmas (maybe at Target?), picked it up and gave it a look, then put it back down, I guess mostly because I don't eat many Big Macs anyway. But of course if my child gives me a book as a gift, I'm going to read it. 

Unfortunately I'm going to have to hope that my children don't read this blog, because (while wine is for me, and food is for me) this book was not for me. It's cute, and it's funny, and I love the drawings and photos, but ultimately I had to force my way through it, fighting boredom and feelings of pointlessness. In fact, I ended up skipping over most of the descriptions of pairings (though I at least read the title of each one) because, after the first few, they felt a bit meaningless. They struck me the same way as the back labels of wine bottles: sometimes it seems like the writer just made up a bunch of crap. Crap that sounds amazing, of course! But crap nonetheless. 

The first portion of the book is educational, which would be helpful except that for me it did not stick. It's all about levels of acid, sugar, tannins and alcohol, and how these affect the flavor (and other characteristics) of a wine; different wine-growing climates; how to describe the way a wine tastes; and different types of wine. It's obvious that Vanessa Price knows her stuff. But (despite the light-hearted tone and humor) I found it dull reading, and even after reading it, *I* don't know her stuff. 

Then we get to the pairings (which are myriad, and which is where the pointlessness comes in). I'm sure the majority of the food suggested is meant to be accessible for Everyman, but so much of it is crap! I'm not about to eat Marshmallow Peeps or Honey Nut Cheerios just so I can see how great they taste with the wines they're paired with. Not to mention the fact that most of the wine in this book would be impossible for me to find. (And why would I bother trying to find it if I don't want to eat the food it's paired with?) 

I did read all of the "Winesplaining" and other brief articles interspersed throughout the book, which was fun and informative but mostly served to belie the purported accessibility of these pairings. I mean, really, I think the cover and title of this book are misleading. They make you think it's going to be down-to-earth, but it's not. It's hoity-toity and out of my wine league. But it was fun to read about how the "other half" lives! One example of this, which is probably the one part of the book that will stick in my mind, is from Chapter 15 ("Expense-Account Prep Course: For Ladies Who Power Lunch," which obviously is not for Everyman): a dessert called the Arctic Bird's Nest that is served at Aquavit in New York City. I'd like to try that someday. And if I ever have the chance to do so, maybe I can pair it with a Cypriot Commandaria (like Keo St John, which is fortified, or Tsiakkas, which is not). 

I must admit that Sam and I are in a wine rut. We each have a favorite chardonnay, and we share a favorite red and a go-to champagne (ah, excuse me, actually prosecco), so this book temporarily gave me a slight impulse to be a little bit more adventurous, like I was in my wine blogging days. But what was I doing in those days if not looking for my favorite wines? And now that I've found them, why would I start looking again? Besides, I never could decide which wines I liked best unless I tasted several together, and I never could remember what I thought of each without writing it down, but also I never could really put wine descriptions in writing--I was just making crap up like the people who write the back labels for wine bottles. 

Vanessa knows why Sam and I drink champagne every Friday

"So Long, See You Tomorrow" by William Maxwell

This is a beautiful little book, a novella really, that is both subtle and intense. The unnamed narrator, an old man, relates memories from a brief period of his childhood. The writing is evocative and utterly real-seeming, surely because the story is partly based on the author's life (e.g. the narrator's mother dies of the flu in 1918; William Maxwell's mother died of the flu in 1918) which blurs the line between fact and fiction and made it impossible for me to see where the divide occurred. The story deeply but quietly explores the themes of guilt, divorce, trauma and grief. 

Most of the plot occurs at a remove from the narrator; he is an observer rather than an active participant. He tells the story of his classmate, Cletus Smith, and the love affair between Smith's mother and the farmer next door that causes the fracture of both families and the death of the farmer. The narrator puts his memory of what he was aware of as a child together with newspaper accounts and realizations that occur to him as an adult, and fills in the gaps with speculation. 

This is one of those books that doesn't spell everything out clearly--it requires some reading between the lines, which I appreciate because I feel it is a sign that the author has respect for the intelligence of his readers. I enjoy the challenge of reading books like this. However, I also find it mildly frustrating, especially if I am uncertain as to whether I am interpreting everything the right way. My solution in this case? After finishing this book, I literally immediately reread it to try to parse out more of its secrets. (This didn't take long, at 135 pages.) It's a sure sign of the quality of this book that I didn't find the re-read boring, and I do feel like it solidified my confidence in my interpretation. For instance, in my first read-through I thought I detected hints that the murder was committed by someone other than the character everyone suspected; my second read helped me determine that wasn't the case.

I just have two question remaining. First, on page 5 of my copy, the narrator says, "one of the crimes mentioned in that book took place in a house on Tenth Street, one street over from the house we lived in when I was a child." I tried to make this crime out to be something that is described in further detail later in the story, but I think I have come to the conclusion that it's merely tangential and is never mentioned again. Second, the ear (also mentioned on page 5) . . . I don't understand why this was done (or where it ended up). After reading the book twice, I'm pretty sure it's up to me to decide the answers to the ear question.

"Dept. of Speculation" by Jenny Offill

You know that song "Up the Junction" by Squeeze, that covers the whole arc of a relationship from its happy early days to its sad death? Dept. of Speculation is that song in book form, only not quite so upbeat. 

Not that this is a bad thing. I found it a really good book, in spite of or along with or because it is heartbreaking. It's written in a very similar style to Offill's newer book Weather, with the same brief, loosely-connected paragraphs. And of course it has the same clean, concise, evocative writing. 

I would definitely read this again someday. Despite the fact that I am approaching (or possibly even already in) the second half of my life, despite the fact that I'm feeling the pressure of too many books and not enough time left in my life to read them all, I would spend part of what remains of my precious reading time in re-reading this book. 

"The Sociopath Next Door" by Martha Stout, PhD

This book caught my eye on a recent trip to Books-A-Million. I definitely prefer fiction over non-fiction, but I picked this one up and read a few tidbits from it and was interested enough that I couldn't just put it back down and forget about it.

Before reading this book, I was never very clear on the difference between a sociopath and a psychopath. Since reading, I've decided I'm pretty sure that they're the same thing except that the psychos aren't disguised as normal humans. 

According to this book, a sociopath is a person with no conscience. They feel no guilt or shame and have the freedom to do whatever they want with no moral restrictions. Some dominate the business world, some operate out of envy and try to bring others down, some are incredibly lazy and feel no compunction about sponging off others. Some are unusually charming, hiding the hollow interior where normal human attachments are ordinarily formed; some are more irritating and grating. Contrary to popular belief, not all are criminals (though those who are feel no remorse). 

I'm just speculating here, because obviously I'm far less knowledgeable than the clinical psychologist who wrote this book, but I wonder if it's more nuanced than that? Maybe some sociopaths just have an underdeveloped conscience instead of completely lacking one. Maybe some people have some sociopathic tendencies or sometimes engage in sociopathic behavior but aren't always completely inhuman. Either way, reading this book has led me to identify three likely sociopaths: one that I know personally, one that I know tangentially, and one that I know from the news. Obviously I'm not gonna name any names here. And I could be completely wrong! But it's definitely food for thought.

"The Girl Who Reads on the Métro" by Christine Féret-Fleury

This is another little perfectly-sized book. I love the look of it, and I love the feel of it--the weight of it in my hand, and the velvety smooth dust jacket--but as far as the actual reading of it      . . . meh. 

The tone of the story is mostly light-hearted and quirky, and utterly French, all of which makes me think of the movie Amélie (even though it's been so long since I watched it that I really don't remember anything about it). And it's all about books, and loving books, and reading books, which is of course right up my alley. But it kind of gave me the impression that it's also intended to be deep and meaningful, like some sort of parable, though really it's just weird. And it never really hooked me. Case in point: I bought it (at Half Price Books!) last November and started reading it right away, then kind of forgot about it for a few months before rediscovering it and finishing it this week. 

This is the story of Juliette, who lives in Paris and works at an estate agent's and seems kind of bored with her life except when she reads. One day while on her way to work she happens upon a gate that is wedged open with a book, so of course she goes inside. And there she finds Soliman and his young daughter and piles and piles of books. Soliman supplies the passeurs of Paris: people who leave books throughout the city for passersby to take. Can you guess who then becomes a passeur? It all sounds magical, doesn't it? But unfortunately somehow, for me, the whole was lesser than the sum of its parts. 

"Simple Acts to Save Our Planet: 500 Ways to Make a Difference" by Michelle Neff

The title of this book says it all. This is a list of earth-friendly changes to make or actions to take, most of which just about anyone can do. The book does not go into great detail about any of the ideas, which in several cases was a detriment as I was left wanting more information, but it was pretty comprehensive in terms of what individuals can do. The majority of the ideas were small, easy baby steps (in contrast with what I have gathered from Greta Thunberg: don't eat meat or dairy, don't fly, and don't buy new things--huge changes that many would balk at). 

I took notes and organized the ideas as I read. Everything fell into one (or more) of eight categories: Produce less trash, buy less stuff, reduce emissions, conserve water, reduce use of chemicals, use less electricity, influence public policy, and help nature. Some were things I'm already doing (which made me feel good), some were things I've been thinking about doing and reading this book was the impetus I needed to take action, some were things I'd never thought about, and a few were . . . well, I laughed a few times. (Avoid steel-jaw traps. Done!! Also, don't buy a tiger, lemur or lion for a pet. Never crossed my mind!) Overall I found this book a good resource or jumping-off point for anyone who is interested in trying to do their part.

I must say I'm not really sure how much difference most of these ideas will make. I do wonder if the greatest effect is in virtue signaling or feeling good about yourself for making an effort to save the planet. I also worry that changes may have unexpected and unintended negative consequences that cancel out the good we're trying to do (I swear this is not just an excuse to avoid taking action; I really do worry about this). On the other hand, I think this is the sort of thing where cumulative effect makes a difference. After all, cumulative effect is the way the planet got in the shape it's in, right? So it makes sense that it's going to take cumulative effect to fix anything.

I'm about to do something I don't usually do on my blog. I'm about to share my thoughts on something that is not related to books. If reading others' thoughts on climate change makes you angry, or if you're only interested in reading about books, you may want to stop here before I go off the rails. Here we go . . . 

Yes, I am aware that climate change is a natural process that was happening long before humans started negatively impacting the earth. Yes, I believe climate change would still be happening--likely outside of human control--even if we all "did everything right." However, I also believe that in the past century the climate has changed in unnatural ways, to a degree and with a rapidity that would not have happened otherwise, caused mainly by human reliance on fossil fuels together with a thoughtless form of consumption (and I mean that in a very broad sense). I believe that if we want future generations to remain able to live comfortably on Earth, we need to be willing to make some sacrifices and changes in the way we live. In some sense we may need to redefine comfort. I read this book in hopes of gaining a better understanding of the sacrifices and changes I may need to make.

To take this a step further: I see many people posting lists online of all the useful and necessary items that are made using petroleum. I also see many people lamenting the loss of jobs in the oil and gas industries due to proposed changes. And I see many people posting about what a ridiculously terrible idea the Green New Deal is. Here is my thought process: first of all, is anyone (I'm talking about those with the power to effect such a change, not random people posting on the Internet) suggesting that we should completely cease using fossil fuels? My assumption is that, while the aim is to drastically reduce consumption, we would continue to use petroleum for necessities (medications, for example) that can't be produced in any other way--while also, perhaps, looking for other ways they could be produced. (I do worry, however, whether the oil industry is resilient enough to contract and still exist.) Second of all, changes in industry have always occurred throughout human history: some sectors shrink, some grow, new ones are created. I know if my job were being phased out I would not be happy about it, to say the least. I can totally understand people wanting to hang onto their careers. but that's where the Green New Deal comes in. I'm not super familiar with it (but I do have a book about it that I plan to read soon!) but it is my understanding that, like FDR's New Deal that helped to end The Great Depression, it is intended to aid and employ those whose jobs will be affected in the shift away from fossil fuels. 

OK, I'm done. I will leave you with one fun fact: the author of this book, Michelle Neff, is the friend of a friend of a friend of mine! I'm pretty sure she doesn't know that, though.