“Londoners” by Craig Taylor

I have literally had this book for ten years without cracking it open, always intending to read it and never doing so. When deciding on which books to bring with me for our recent trip to England, this seemed an obvious choice, so into the suitcase it went... and then I ended up not reading it. But when we returned home and I unpacked, it went into my short-stack TBR in the Reading Room, and I picked it up soon afterwards. 

This book is like a collection of brief articles, each one delving into a different individual’s experience with living in London, and I found it fascinating. It covers a really broad array, as made plain right there on the cover: those who have always lived in London, those who have always wanted to, those who have found it fabulous and those who have found it less so (but, more often than not, it’s a mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly). 

I really enjoyed my experience with this book, which I definitely think was enhanced because I’d been there. Not that I’d seen everything referenced in the book by any means, but I’m sure what I read was more interesting and meaningful because of our trip. Though I’m not saying that you shouldn’t read this book if your only trips to London have been the ones in your dreams; I think it’s worth reading no matter what. 

I finished reading this today on the warm white sands of Gulf Shores, Alabama (not to rub it in if you’re currently somewhere more mundane and less relaxing). But it felt oddly incongruous to read about London on a beautiful sunny day. So, how fitting that, as I turned the last page, I saw that the clouds had rolled in. It reminded me of our time in London: our first two days there, the sun was shining and everyone was happy and I started to wonder if I’d been lied to my whole life. But on the third morning, when we got up and I opened the shutters of our hotel room to find low, grey clouds, I thought, Ah yes. This is what I have been expecting.

“Hercule Poirot: The Complete Short Stories” by Agatha Christie

This book was a gift from Sam along with all the Miss Marple mysteries (which I’ve already read and blogged about). I’ve really enjoyed reading this Poirot book as bedtime stories over the past few months. 

Surprisingly, it was not love at first glance; somehow at the beginning I found the stories a bit too tricksy. I think I was overly focused on solving the puzzles, and there was a bit of frustration as almost always it seemed I wasn’t given all the information needed to find the solution. But a few stories in, I relaxed and found it was better when I just sank into it. 

I must admit, I think I have discovered that I prefer Miss Marple to Hercule Poirot. The demure old lady is a more appealing character to me, and I prefer her humility (even if it’s a bit false) to Poirot’s overweening pride. In all my years of reading Agatha Christie, I don’t think I’d ever made this distinction before. This is probably because I’d never before read either group of stories concentrated into such a short period of time without intermingling. 

“Joan” by Katherine J Chen

Did I say I don’t like reading about war? Maybe that’s because I'd never read about war waged by a woman. 

I'd never heard of this book (or its author) before, though I'd certainly heard of Joan of Arc. In third grade, we were required to dress up as a historical figure and present an oral biography about them in front of the class, and I did mine about Joan. Standing up before all those vicious kids and making a speech one time was hard enough for a painfully shy girl, but then my classmates voted for me to be filmed doing a repeat performance for our school's weekly news show. (I have always thought of that as an intentional punishment rather than a reward or honor.) Needless to say, this is something that stuck in my memory, as horrifying experiences tend to do. But even without the childhood trauma, I think I would have carried a lifelong fascination for Joan of Arc. She's one of those historical figures surrounded by an intense aura of mythology. I always wanted to know more, even if I knew I would never really be able to get at the whole truth. 

So during our last browse in Half Price Books, while constrained by the knowledge that I really REALLY don't need to buy any more books because (even if I'm here for another five decades) I likely don't have enough life left to live to make it through all of the unread books I already own, when I saw the spine that simply said JOAN, I was immediately drawn to pick up this book. And I was pretty eager to get to it. This wasn't going to be one of those books I still haven't read ten (or twenty!) years after I bought it. 

When I did get started on it, it didn't grab me right away, and I'm not sure it ever really reached critical mass, but I really REALLY enjoyed reading it. It starts with Joan's childhood in Domrémy and follows her to Chinon where she serves the Dauphin (Charles VII of France) by leading his army to amazing military victories. Joan's story is captivating enough on its own, but in Chen's hands it was shaped into an eminently readable tale. I especially loved the way the author explained the mythology of Joan. There was really nothing supernatural about it (despite Joan's preternatural abilities). In this story, Joan never had visions from God; religion was merely used as a means to an end by those in power around her. 

I thought the way Joan was written may have been influenced by Game of Thrones. I could see Arya in Joan (specifically as relates to her revenge list), but in my mind she looked a lot like a dark-haired Brienne of Tarth. Speaking of which, Joan was described far differently than I ever remember hearing before. The Joan I expected was a mere slip of a girl, holy and pious, emboldened only by God; the Joan of this book was very strong, skilled at all physical feats, and practically a giantess. She was emboldened by her own talents, though without the inflated ego that would typically be encountered in someone so gifted; she had all the qualities of a man with none of the flaws. 

Do you know how Joan of Arc's life ended?  If you don't, well . . . I must say I don't believe in six-century-old historical spoilers. But strangely, it wasn't until page 140 when the memory suddenly hit me, and I went cold: Joan of Arc was burned at the stake for heresy and witchcraft. That knowledge lent a gravity to the remainder of the book. What would have to happen for Joan to go from the savior of Orléans to the ash heap? I dreaded what I imagined would be the ultimate rotisserie scene. So I'm happy to tell you that the book ended before Joan's life did! I was not disappointed by that fact.