Book Review: Literary Listography

I would consider myself a fairly organized person, and as such, I tend to gravitate towards lists. While I have several list apps, I also like and use pen and paper lists. Given this and my love of books, Literary Listography seemed like a natural fit for me.

For those aren't familiar with the Listography books, they are an offshoot of the website and app that encourages users to create and share public lists about anything (you can read about it on the Listography website). Since the first Listography book was published in 2007, there have been 12 books in the series that focus on different themes, including friendship, food, and film.

Picture from Listography.com

Unlike other books, the Listography books is very much driven and created by the reader, and Literary Listography is no exception. Billed as a "selection of lists chosen just for the book lover," the book includes 70+ lists that are designed to delight and intrigue any bibliophile. Rather than providing you with lists of books to explore, this book relies on you to interact with it and create lists based on the prompts. With prompts ranging from the expected ("My Favorite Authors") to the atypical ("Fictional Crimes I've Witnessed"), this book is fun and thought provoking. Some of my favorite prompts included "Fictional Characters I'd Go on a Date With" (let's be honest - if you love books, you've probably considered this. For the record, my list includes Gilbert Blythe from the Anne of Green Gables books), "Cultures I've Immersed Myself in Through Literature," and "Words I Love and Hate the Sound Of."

Besides the great list ideas, Literary Listography had a number of features that I appreciated and that added to the experience. Each prompt is accompanied by a full-color picture depicting a book related to the prompt it faces. For instance, a picture of a backpack and hiking books symbolizing Cheryl Strayed's Wild goes with the prompt "My Favorite Memoirs and Autobiographies." Besides this, the physical features of the book make it a pleasure to use. The pages have a nice weight and texture that hold up to even fountain pen ink and resist smudges, and the book pages lie flat, which makes it easy to write inside.

If  you are looking for a book to help you record your reading life and thoughts, Literary Listography could be the perfect book for you. It would also make a great gift for the book lover in your life (just be prepared for him or her to become preoccupied by it).

Book Review: "Defying the Nazis: The Sharps' War"

Following any of the horrific events that have become all-too-common in modern society, someone on social media inevitably shares Mr. Rogers’s advice to “’Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping’… I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.” These words are true, but after so many tragedies and so many Facebook posts, it becomes easy to dismiss or forget about them. Artemis Joukowsky’s Defying the Nazis: The Sharps’ War provides clear proof of the veracity of this sentiment. The book tells the true story of Waitstill and Martha Sharp, who took on the enormous task of helping refugees in Europe as the Nazis were coming to power and World War II was starting. It is also the companion book to the Ken Burns documentary that will be airing on PBS in September.

While the Sharps seemed like an ordinary couple, they had an extraordinary sense of duty that led them to accept the mission put forth by the American Unitarian Association to go to Prague, Czechoslovakia on the eve of the Nazi invasion. Despite having two young children, Waitstill and Martha go to Prague, learn ways of circumventing the obstacles in their way, outwit the Gestapo, and work to help those who are being oppressed and hunted by the Nazis. After leaving Prague and having a short sojourn at home, they return to Europe during World War II to continue helping those they can.

In many ways, this story seems too fantastic to be true, but Joukowsky, who is the Sharps’ grandson, does an excellent job providing research and facts as support. In some instances, the number of names, dates, and references can weigh down the narrative, but the text’s focus never wavers for long. Joukowsky’s writing style also does not veer far away from the facts. If it is not verified in Martha and Waitstill’s correspondence, excerpts of which are included, or through his interviews with him, the text takes pains not to dramatize the events. This helps further establish Joukowsky as a trustworthy author, but it also can make the narrative a little dry, which is surprising given the suspense that is built into the story. However, despite these minor issues, the book moves quickly and leaves the reader wanting to find out what happened to the Sharps. Additionally, there are places where the straightforward narration works to the book's advantage. The description of the Nazi invasion of Czechoslovakia is especially sobering; any further dramatization would have detracted from the horror of the event.

Another aspect that reinforces the book’s reliability is that Joukowsky examines some of the more everyday facets of the Sharps’ lives. A prime example of this is the tension that exists between the good that Martha wanted to do by helping refugee children and the fact that she did this at the expense of spending time with her own children. Also, rather than closing with the Sharps’ second mission to Europe, Joukowsky follows them post-World War II, as they grow further apart both literally (Martha did a lot of travelling on the lecture circuit, while Waitstill returned to Prague to work for the American Committee for Relief in Czechoslovakia) and figuratively and after their marriage ends. In a perfect world, their bond would have been galvanized by the shared experiences in Europe and would have remained strong. Joulowsky’s exploration of its disintegration reinforces the reality of this story; it is not a fairy tale or fable but the story of two seemingly ordinary people who were able to accomplish extraordinary things under great duress and in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles.

All in all, Defying the Nazis is a worthwhile and important book. Besides providing the Sharps with the attention they so richly deserve for their heroic actions and showing the personal cost that can come with such actions, it also illustrates how people can rise to the occasion. In short, it is another reminder for us to look for the helpers.

My Top Reads from 2015

I apologize for my lengthy absence - the end of the year is always rough in academia. Between the holidays, the end of the semester, and a five-day conference, November and December were a little crazy. However, now that the craziness is more manageable, I wanted to write a post on my favorite reads from last year. I had a great reading year in 2015 (I read over 80 books). This was aided by a Scribd subscription for part of the year (I used it in the summer, but I didn't feel like I could justify having it once school started back) and a seven-day cruise where I had very limited internet access.

Besides the number of books I read, what is even more exciting to me is that most of them were quite enjoyable. Below are my favorite books that I read during the past year. While most of them were published before 2015, the ones that I included in this list were new to me (I'm an avid re-reader, but I'm not going to list them since I've likely written about them on my blog before :).

The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America - This book was on my "To be read" list for a long time.I finally picked it up last year, and my only regret is waiting so long to read it. In it, Erik Larson provides a gripping account of the 1893 World's Fair in Chicago. Through alternating chapters, he tells about the fair's construction and the serial killer who took advantage of the fair to murder a number of people in horrific ways. My one piece of advice when reading this book is not to read it late at night. Reading about a murder house is disconcerting at any time, but it is especially troubling at 1:00 am.

Fun Home - Allison Bechdel was our keynote speaker at NCTE this year, and when I had the opportunity to buy some of her books for her to autograph, I jumped at the chance. While I liked Are You My Mother?: A Comic Drama, I loved Fun Home, which is examines her relationship with her father and which was the basis for the musical that won the 2015 Tony for Best New Musical.

Drama - I really like Raina Telgemeier's work and was excited to read her graphic novel about middle school students putting on a musical. The story focuses on a female tech person, which made it especially enjoyable for me (in high school and college, I spent a lot of time working backstage on various plays). It touches upon friendship, crushes, and LGTBQ issues without getting too heavy. Overall, it is a lovely, humorous read.

The Secret History of Wonder Woman - Jill Lepore's look at Wonder Woman's origin is critically acclaimed for a reason. The main focus is on William Moulton Marston, Wonder Woman's creator, and Lepore does an excellent job taking Marston, who could easily seem like an unsavory and over-the-top individual, and making him multifaceted and nuanced.

Hope Against Hope: Three Schools, One City, and the Struggle to Educate America's Children - Since I feel inundated with information on education at work, I often bypass reading about it in my spare time. However, I picked this book up at a library book sale, and once I started reading it, I couldn't put it down. Besides providing a thoughtful look at the state of education in post-Katrina New Orleans, a city that has had many issues with their public education system, the author does a great job presenting all sides to controversial topics like Teach for America and charter schools.

Book Review: "The League of Regrettable Superheroes"

I’m not a comics expert, but I have a great affinity for reading about comic books of years past. One of my favorite aspects of reading about these books is the often well-intentioned but ridiculous missteps that have occurred, such as an entry in the Superman universe that Glen Weldon gleefully (and affectionately) recounts on the NPR site where Jimmy Olsen travels back in time and starts a Beatles craze in ancient Judea. “The League of Regrettable Superheroes” by Jon Morris is dedicated to celebrating the wacky hijinks and preposterous storylines of yesteryear. However, rather than focusing on the missteps of well-known series, Morris’s book focuses on lesser-known and less-successful superheroes. Some have dubious origins (Captain Tootsie, a superhero/advertisement for Tootsie Rolls) while others seem to have been designed to take advantage of a trend popular at the time (Morris points out that Magicman, which debuted in 1965, was an attempt to cash in on shows like “Bewitched” and “I Dream of Jeannie”). In almost all cases, the superheroes are indeed regrettable, but Morris has palpable fondness for them even as he acknowledges how ridiculous and ill-conceived they are.

The entries are organized into three parts – The Golden Age (1938 – 1949), the Silver Age (1950 –1969, a time that Glen Weldon refers to as The Crazypants Years), and the Modern Age (1970 – present day). Most entries are two pages in length, with a page dedicated to humorously and wryly describing the superhero and the other page featuring lavish color pictures from the comics (a few entries have four-page spreads, with the extra pages consisting mostly of pictures). As a sidebar, Morris includes a few quick facts on each hero, such as the creator and the debut info, as well as some snarky commentary (for instance, The Conqueror’s sidebar includes “Last seen: Moving inexorably toward Berlin”). While the setup might frustrate those who want further information, the format works very well for readers who want a general overview of the comics without too much minutiae to bog down the proceedings. Additionally, the use of full-color pictures throughout the book (in fact, all of the pictures are printed in color – Quirk does not skimp on the printing or layout) provide further insight into the heroes, as Morris wisely uses his subjects’ inherent insanity and inanity to speak for themselves. These features also make “The League of Regrettable Superheroes” perfect as a quirky and fun coffee-table book.

In short, if you are looking for a serious and in-depth examination of failed comic book characters, then “The League of Regrettable Superheroes” might not be for you. However, it is perfect if you want an entertaining, approachable, and amusing look at unsuccessful or inept attempts at finding the next Superman or Batman.

Book Review: "Something's Coming, Something Good: West Side Story and the American Imagination"

When I first came across Something's Coming, Something Good in my local Barnes & Noble, I immediately knew that I had to buy the book. As a theatre junkie and a huge fan of West Side Story, I thought that this book would be a great addition to my library (yes, I do have a musical theatre/theatre subset within my books). After reading the book, I've found that my initial enthusiasm might have been a little premature. Misha Berson offers an interesting and well-written look at West Side Story, but rather than presenting new scholarship or perspective on the show and its creation, the entire book is more as a compilation of previous research and information.

The book examines West Side Story from its origins to its role as a touchstone of American culture. The most engaging chapters come early in the book, as Berson addresses the show's staging, music and lyrics, and choreography. I also appreciated the chapter dedicated to the film version of the musical, which included a list of differences between the movie and the stage show. These chapters are very heavy on the research, but Berson integrates other people's thoughts and ideas in a way that is cohesive and easy to read.

Unfortunately, some of the other chapters suffer by comparison, and several seem like filler added to make the book longer. The most egregious chapters are "The Rise of the Dancer-Choreographer," "Broadway's Youth Musicals," and "West Side Story and the Rise of Juvenile Delinquency." These chapters seem unnecessary and distract from the strong scholarship that Berson brings to the rest of the book. For instance, I'm still scratching my head over the inclusion of the youth musicals chapter. Not only are the included shows unsurprising (Hair, Rent, and Spring Awakening are all mentioned), but the few connections Berson attempts to draw between these shows and West Side Story are obvious at best. These factors, combined with the fact that the chapter is a slight three and a half pages (and one page is a picture), makes me wonder why this chapter wasn't cut altogether. What makes this truly lamentable is that the basic idea (West Side Story's influence on later musicals about teen angst and rebellion) has the potential to be much more interesting than the actual chapter suggests.

Given all of these factors, I do recommend Something's Coming, Something Good, albeit with some reservations. This would be a great resource for someone who has just found the show or for a theatre director who needs to brush up on the show's history and conception. Berson has certainly done her research, and references to previous biographies, books, documentaries, magazine articles, and interviews abound. With all of this information, this book provides a good springboard for those who want to do further research into the show and read the primary sources Berson quotes. There is also a very fun section on references to the show in popular culture, which would be a great way to introduce it to a theatre class.

In short, this book provides a great introduction for people who want to learn more about the show, and it even makes sense as a quick reference guide for those of us who know a great deal about the musical's origins and influence. However, don't be afraid to skip some of the lighter chapters that only have a tangential relationship with the show.

Book Review: "Taken Hostage" by Ranae Rose

Fair warning: This review will have a lot of spoilers after the first two paragraphs. I’ll note where the spoilers begin so, if you want to remain unspoiled, you can stop reading.

It isn’t everyday that a book gives me almost exactly what I expect while also surprising me at every turn, and, in this sense, Ranae Rose’s erotica-action novella, Taken Hostage, is remarkable. While it gave me what I anticipated based on the synopsis as well as my prior experience with romance novels (my guilty pleasure), it did so in an unexpected manner. Unfortunately, this is both a blessing and curse, for the book manages to defy a number of typical genre tropes while still falling victim to many of the stereotypes people associate with romance.

The story set up is familiar: Tiffany, a New York bank teller, finds herself attracted to a handsome stranger who she assumes is a new customer. However, James Elliot is not your typical customer. Upon reaching the front of the line, he holds up the bank, demands that Tiffany fill a pillowcase with money, and takes her hostage. The two of them then drive across the country to escape the police.

Spoilers start here…

This premise alone seems promising if not terribly original. After reading the first few pages, I assumed that:
1. James would have some sort of noble reason for holding up the bank, since modern romance heroes rarely, if ever, do anything this drastic (or flagrantly illegal) without having some sort of rationale that allows us to sympathize with him. At this point, my money was on him needing the money to ransom a loved one (probably a female relative).
2. Tiffany, being a modern, independent heroine, would show her feistiness by defying her captor and trying to escape before learning about his back story and then falling in love with him.
3. The author would somehow mulligan the bank robbery plot at the end, with James being vindicated and allowed to lead a free and happy existence with Tiffany.

However, this is where Rose surprises us. There are no ailing relatives, kidnapped sisters, or even endangered puppies to motivate James’s very illegal actions. He’s doing it for the money, pure and simple, and we find that Tiffany’s bank isn’t the first he has robbed. Also, beyond her initial fear (which is understandable considering that James tells everyone in the bank that he will kill her if they are pursued), Tiffany, upon hearing from James that he isn’t going to hurt her, seems quite content to go along with him and opts to stay with him as his partner when he gives her the opportunity to leave. She is also quick to acknowledge their sexual attraction and doesn’t have any angst over wanting James.

This is unexpected and ensures that no one will confuse this book with, say, a Harlequin Presents, but these decisions also highlight the book’s flaws. Although I appreciated that James wasn’t a tortured hero and Tiffany wasn’t a typical feisty or martyred heroine, we don’t know much about them and the little we do know is not positive. While James’s candor about robbing the bank for money should probably be taken as refreshing, it made it impossible for me to root for him. Similarly, Tiffany’s willingness to believe that James means her no harm (she takes his word at face value minutes after he has announced, during the robbery, that he will “blow her brains out”) and desire to screw him six ways to Sunday before even knowing his name firmly made her a too stupid to live heroine without the typical tropes.

You may be asking yourself, “What stereotypes does the book use?” Well, the characters have sex and lots of it, with scenes that are steamy if somewhat ludicrous. One of the first major sex scenes happens in the woods, where the characters get it on while on the run from the police. Adrenaline aside, they take a while to stop even after they hear people approaching. At this point, I was rooting for the police to catch their sorry selves, if only because people this intrepidly stupid (or is it stupidly intrepid) and morally bankrupt shouldn't procreate.

Also, James and Tiffany get their happily ever after once they escape the police and cross the border into Mexico. This might not be such a formidable problem except that Rose ends the book in typical romance novel fashion, with the two of them exchanging “I love yous” on the beach. This falls flat since we don’t see them connect on any real level beyond the sexual. Even if I could ignore the fact that these characters haven’t earned and don’t deserve their happy ending, it is hard to believe that they love each other and will spend the rest of their days blissfully sipping margaritas together.

All of this is not to say that Rose is an untalented writer. She writes a torrid sex scene and keeps the tension of the book going, even when her two main characters seem unconcerned with evading the police. I also can’t help but admire that she avoids trotting out many romance conventions even if she does so to the detriment of the characters. I almost wish she had fully committed to defying all genre expectations and made this book straight-up erotica. A more ambiguous ending with James and Tiffany racing towards the Mexican border while evading the police might have been more satisfying and believable rather the forced and unconvincing HEA.

In short, if you are looking for a hot, if implausible, read filled with lots of sex, then you might enjoy this book. On the other hand, if you are looking for a romance with likable, sympathetic characters developing an understandable relationship with each other, you might want to look elsewhere

Book Review: "Just My Type"

Type and fonts surround us, but many people give them little thought. Luckily, there are others like Simon Garfield who are not just fascinated by font and typeface but are willing to share their passion with the rest of us. Garfield’s interest and enthusiasm for his subject are evident throughout the book. Furthermore, he does a good job making his explanations accessible and engaging for those who do not share his awareness and knowledge of font.

Just My Type provides a history of typeface and printing starting from Guttenberg up until present day. It also dissects different fonts, such as the much maligned Comic Sans, and provides stories about the fonts and their designers. Garfield also includes lots of graphics and examples from history and popular culture to help illustrate his points, which contributed a great deal to my understanding and enjoyment of the text. In addition to his lively account of the IKEA controversy that arose after the company changed its typeface from Futura to Verdana, I also appreciated his explanations of such issues like the use of period inappropriate fonts (often found in film) as well as the differences between legibility and readability (using the record cover of The Beach Boys’ “Pet Sounds”).

That said, given the myriad of topics included under the general umbrella of font and type, the book can be very uneven, and some chapters undoubtedly will have more appeal to the general public than others. I would have preferred to see more discussion on the use of type in branding and advertising rather than the chapters dedicated to minutiae like the ampersand. However, after the first few chapters, it is easy to go skip around in the book and focus on your interests without sacrificing understanding or consistency.

In a similar vein, the text is sometimes so information-rich that it can seem overwhelming for the typeface neophyte. Though I consider myself a fast and avid reader when it comes to most books, I often found myself reading a single chapter and then taking a break from the book to prevent font overload. Garfield does guard against this somewhat by mixing shorter, lighter chapters with the more dense ones, but even then all of the ideas still seem to mix together.

The final problem and caution I have about the book has nothing to do with Garfield or the actual text and everything to do with the medium. Although I understand the cost-saving measures involved in providing electronic copies to people for review, this is not a book that lends itself well to reading on a device. The number of graphics and the different fonts used make this book almost impossible to read on most e-readers. I tried reading it on my Nook Simple Touch before realizing the incompatibility between the device and the content.

Overall, although this isn’t the type of book I would read on my own, I was very pleased to have the chance to read such an informative and pleasant treatise on font and typeface. For people who are interested in knowing more about font and print, this would be an excellent starting point (just try to get a physical copy rather than an electronic one!).

Full Disclosure: I received this book through LibraryThing's Early Reviewers Program.

Book Review: "The Wilder Life: My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie"

Growing up, I LOVED the Little House books with an ardor that even my eventual alliance with Nancy Drew could not equal. I carried the yellow-bound paperbacks, which I received as boxed set from my aunt, around until they literally fell apart, and I even remember discussing the books with my classmates in the tiny Southern town where I went to elementary and middle school. 

Although I replaced my frayed books with the full-color editions that came out in the mid-2000s, I now have a more ambiguous view of Laura and her books. In addition to the horrible television show (sorry, but it is a ridiculous, preachy, exhausting mess) and the books' discomfiting racial issues, there is also the fact that certain groups, such as extreme right-wing conservatives and super Christians, have seemed to have appropriated the books as their own. Added to Rose Wilder Lane's (Laura's daughter and assistant with the books) libertarian streak and the books' hypocritical view of the government (there is a great deal of anti-government sentiment that conveniently ignores the federal assistance that the Ingalls family received)  I can't look at the books in the same way.

Despite my complicated view of the Little House books, I was excited to read Wendy McClure's The Wilder Life, where the author decides to enter the world of Laura Ingalls Wilder by doing the things that Laura did (churning butter, twisting hay sticks), researching Laura's life, and visiting the places mentioned in the books. On her quest, she is accompanied by her seemingly saintly boyfriend, Chris, who not only reads all of the Little House books but also willingly does things like sleeping in a covered wagon and road tripping to various Ingalls-related sites.

This is a rather slim premise, but what McClure lacks in substance she usually makes up for in style. For the most part, she relays her misadventures with great panache and humor. This is particularly evident in the middle chapters, which show McClure's attempts at cooking recipes from The Little House Cookbook and her road trips to places like Mansfield, Missouri, where Laura and Almonzo lived. A run-in with an "end of days" group at a homesteading skills weekend (she and Chris, worried that the group members will hear them in their tent, write notes to each other to plan their escape) to an experience sleeping in a rented covered wagon are two highlights of the book, for McClure manages to merge the absurd and mundane together to create a comedic moment that, nevertheless, seems real and related to her quest in some way.

I also appreciated McClure's exploration of her conflicted views of the books, their writers and participants, and their legacy. She even tries to understand the viewpoint of Rose Wilder Lane, a divisive figure that many people (even, or perhaps especially, fans of the books) tend to dislike for a number of reasons, including her complicated relationship with her mother and the fact that she blatantly plagiarized from Laura's unpublished memoir to write her own (fictional) novel. Given that McClure could have easily gone the fan girl route while letting her "calico-sunbonnet freak flag fly," I appreciate her candor and her acknowledgement of the less-than-perfect or ideal aspects of Laura World.

The book does drag in places, most notably the opening and the ending. Both sections are more rooted in McClure's personal life and less related to Laura Ingalls Wilder's works, and both address McClure's personal life, specifically the illness and death of her mother. There is also a part where McClure has a mini-crisis while visiting De Smet, South Dakota, which is as puzzling for the reader as it is for her.

This book isn't perfect, but it is entertaining and informative, particularly for those who grew up reading the Little House books. At a mere 249 pages (at least on my Nook), it is a light, quick, fizzy summer read, perfect for taking to the beach or reading on a plane. McClure's ability to weave in information while keeping the prose engaging makes this a supremely enjoyable way to revisit a childhood favorite and a cultural touchstone. It even made me want to embark on my own Laura World adventures, even if they only go as far as dusting off my copy of The Little House Cookbook and making up a batch of apples 'n' onions. 

Book Review: "The Story of Charlotte's Web: E. B. White's Eccentric Life in Nature and the Birth of an American Classic"

From past experience, I’ve found that writing a book about another book’s genesis is very difficult. The resulting works are usually somewhere between interesting but unexplored minutiae or gushy biography. Luckily, Michael Sims manages to avoid both pitfalls in The Story of Charlotte’s Web: E. B. White’s Eccentric Life in Nature and the Birth of an American Classic. Tracing White’s life from his childhood to his tenure at The New Yorker to his writing of Charlotte’s Web, Sims manages to write a deft and thoughtful examination of the author, his writing style, and his curious, and fascinating, relationship with nature.

Although the book certainly has slow patches (the opening chapters in particular seemed to take a while to get going ), overall it is very enjoyable and incredibly detailed. What’s more, almost everything that Sims includes in the book, from White’s hesitancy regarding romance to his experiences farming in Maine, relates to the book’s ultimate focus. While it might not have been entirely clear when starting the book why Sims opted to describe Samuel White’s manner of speech in the early chapters in such detail, the payoff is seeing the parallels between E. B. White’s father and John Arable, one of the characters in Charlotte’s Web. Even more impressive is that Sims trusts his readers’ patience and intellect; rather than dropping early hints about this, Sims presents the information without apology and only mentions the connection briefly when describing the character later in the book.

All in all, The Story of Charlotte’s Web is a fascinating and insightful look at E. B. White and the factors that led him to write Charlotte’s Web. Sims’s account of White’s life and habits is thorough and well-researched, and his writing clearly conveys his affection and admiration for his subject without being obsequious. Fans of White and Charlotte’s Web will undoubtedly enjoy this book and learn more about the work and man who wrote it.

Book Review Roundup: "Sweet Valley Confidential"

Francine Pascal's Sweet Valley Confidential landed in stores on Tuesday, and the world finally got to find out what happened to the most annoyingly perfect twins in the most annoyingly perfect place on earth. Of course, the twins in question are Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield, and the place is Sweet Valley, a part of California that (if the original series was to be believed) seemed like a strange hybrid of heaven, Lake Wobegon, Peyton Place, and a teen horror flick.

Sweet Valley Confidential catches up with the Wakefield twins at age 27 and drags us, a once loyal and captive audience, along for the ride. While I haven't read the book (sorry, I'm waiting until the book comes out in paperback), the reviews signify that time hasn't been a friend to the Wakefields and their compatriots. Pascal seemed to have written the book with an adult audience in mind (the book has numerous references to sex, including an incredibly embarrassing line about Elizabeth's sex life ), and the book is considered fiction (versus young adult). However, the reviews and plot summaries suggest that this book would put even the most insane Harlequin romance to shame and has plot holes that teenagers (never adults) will find annoying.

Still interested? Here are some of the most entertaining reviews I've found online. Just be warned - these reviews are rife with spoilers, so if you are really, truly interested in reading the book for yourself, proceed at your own risk:

• Monica Hesse's review for The Washington Post
• Mara Reinstein's review, which appeared on the Huffington Post
• Karen Valby's Entertainment Weekly review

Of course, if you want to know what happened to Elizabeth and Jessica without having to shell out $23 for the book, I encourage you to check out the awesomely snarky recap/review on Shannon's Sweet Valley Blog.

Book Review: "Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind: A Bestseller's Odyssey from Atlanta to Hollywood"

As a certified bookworm who grew up in Tennessee, Gone With the Wind was always on the edges (if not the forefront) of my consciousness. I watched the movie on videotape and on cable. I toted around an enormous copy of the book so I could read it to and from school. And I distinctly remember the surreal experience of listening to Alexandra Ripley’s Scarlett book on tape (as read by Dixie Carter ) because the waiting list for the book at the town library was so long. Although my interest in the story has waned considerably since junior high, I was still excited to get Ellen F. Brown and John Wiley, Jr.’s Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With the Wind: A Bestseller’s Odyssey from Atlanta to Hollywood through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewers program. As the title suggests, this book focuses on Gone With the Wind’s publication and the phenomenon that the book became on the national and international stage. 

At the heart of Brown and Wiley’s book is Margaret Mitchell, and the authors do an excellent job portraying the duality of Mitchell’s career as the author of one of the most beloved novels of all time. On one hand, it seems like the stars aligned for Mitchell, and popular lore seems to attribute the author’s success to a great deal of luck. From the early support of Lois Dwight Cole, who recommended Mitchell to Harold Lathem, Macmillan’s editor in chief, to the publishing company’s impressive (and warranted) marketing campaign to the astounding success of the novel from both critical and popular standpoints, it is easy to credit fortune. However, as Brown and Wiley clearly show in their work, Mitchell (with assistance from her husband, John Marsh, and her brother, Stephens Mitchell) put a great deal of hard work into researching, writing, and revising her novel and into protecting its best interests. 

Brown and Wiley deserve a lot of credit for this book. Despite the fact that we know that Gone With the Wind will be successful, they manage to incorporate tension and suspense as they build to the book’s publication. Similarly, the seemingly unglamorous issues of copyright laws somehow become intriguing when described in the book. The authors’ clear and engaging style is particularly impressive considering the extensive amount of research used in it. Even though each chapter includes dozens of references and the book has almost 30 pages of footnotes, it does not read like a dry, academic tome. Instead, the authors successfully manage to incorporate the factual information to tell the full story behind Gone With the Wind without allowing the text to get too mired down in minutia.

The authors also provide a lot of insight into Margaret Mitchell’s life and her views on her novel. While I had never given the author a lot of thought, I came away from this book feeling a great deal of respect for her. Brown and Wiley depict Mitchell’s shrewdness and strong sense of justice without losing her innate gentility. Although she did not seek or desire publicity, Mitchell responded with admirable grace, and charm when faced with the often vociferous demands from the public. Even though this nuanced portrayal might seem too good to be true (more on this in a moment), the authors’ use of Mitchell’s correspondence helps support their claims. Perhaps my favorite piece of evidence is the warm exchange between Mitchell and Hattie McDaniel, who played Mammy in the film version of Gone With the Wind.

Unfortunately, this warm portrayal of Mitchell also leads to the main complaint I have with the book. From the included letters, quotes, and anecdotes, Mitchell’s humanity is hard, if not impossible, to deny. Unfortunately, the book is not content to allow the author’s words and actions to speak for themselves. Despite the excellent research to back up authors’ claims, portions of this book drift into hagiography territory, as Brown and Wiley take great pains to tell the reader repeatedly that much of Mitchell’s behavior and decisions regarding "Gone With the Wind" stemmed from her dedication to accuracy and her outstanding principles. Although this is probably true, the constant reminders of become tiring and could be interpreted as either protesting too much or being defensive in regards to Mitchell’s justifiable desire to protect her characters and copyright. The authors certainly have the right to include their way of thinking, but statements about Mitchell’s scruples often appear and reappear within the same chapter (and occasionally on the same page).

Distracting as this might be for some readers, it does not detract from the fact that Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With the Wind is a well written account of the novel’s journey from bestseller to cultural touchstone. This book is as compelling as the novel it dedicates itself to, and I like to think that, despite Mitchell’s reluctance for the spotlight, she would be proud of Brown and Wiley’s extensive research and their commitment to showing the world that "Gone With the Wind’s" initial popularity and enduring legacy is not the result of serendipity but came as a result of the hard work, dedication, and vigilance of Mitchell, her family, and many of her associates.


Full Disclosure: I received this book through LibraryThing's Early Reviewers Program.

What I'm Reading (and What I've Read): March 2011

Although work and grad school have put a serious dent in my non-school (and non-work) related reading, I've still managed to do some recreational reading this year. Right now, I'm in the middle of:

Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind: A Bestseller's Odyssey from Atlanta to Hollywood - I received this from the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program. I have a complex (to say the least) view of Gone With the Wind, but I am enjoying it so far. Besides being engaging, the book seems to be incredibly well researched, given the number of references to Mitchell's personal correspondence and the amount of detail included. I'm only a third of the way through, but I hope to finish this book within the next week or two. Look for the review by the end of the month (fingers crossed).

Spunk and Bite: A Writer's Guide to Punchier, More Engaging Language and Style - I started this book last year, but it got shelved due to other commitments. However, I've returned to it, and I am enjoying it much more than I thought I would. In addition to the practical advice, such as what the rules are and when you can break them, the book also contains helpful illustrative examples. I've been reading a lot about writing, so I hope to do a post on my favorite books on writing.

I'm enjoying these two books, but I am looking forward to adding them to my "read in 2011" pile in LibraryThing. This list already includes:

• Simple Times: Crafts for Poor People by Amy Sedaris - Given how much I enjoyed I Like You, I wish I liked this book more than I did. Unfortunately, this book wasn't nearly as informative or as amusing as its predecessor. Even though it had the same wacky humor and irreverence, it is missing the juxtaposition of zaniness with solid information that made I Like You so enjoyable (and useful).
• Little Women and Werewolves by Louisa May Alcott and Porter Grand - If you are thinking about reading this book (and you love the original story), my only advice to you is "A world of No."
• Singing a New Tune: The Rebirth of the Modern Film Musical from Evita to De-Lovely and Beyond by John Kenneth Muir
• Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies for Every Writer by Roy Peter Clark - This is an excellent book on writing (even if the fact that the author has three first names is a little distracting at first :)
• Take the Cannoli and Radio On: A Listener's Diary by Sarah Vowell - Late last year, I started reading Sarah Vowell and was instantly taken with her mix of wry humor, insightful, and intelligent insights. Take the Cannoli and Radio On are her two earliest books. While I loved Take the Cannoli, I had to force myself to finish Radio On. The nicest thing I can say about Radio On is that it really shows how far Vowell has come in terms of her writing.

Have you read anything good this year? Please feel free to leave suggestions, comments, or ideas below!

Book Review: "Eden's Outcasts"

Growing up, I was an avid reader. Besides the shameful Sweet Valley High series, the Nancy Drew Files, and the strange spate of teen horror books that were popular in the late 1980s/early 1990s (think R.L. Stine and the like), I also loved Little Women. Until I was nine, I didn't have a sister, nor did I have a particularly involved mom or a handsome boy next door, so Little Women seemed like a great alternative (the genteel poverty and the Civil War didn't seem quite so menacing when I was younger).

Last fall, I picked up John Matteson's Pulitzer Prize-winning Eden's Outcasts: The Story of Louisa May Alcott and Her Father, which serves as a dual-biography of Alcott and her father, Bronson Alcott. Initially, I was very skeptical; despite his ties to education (Alcott had several failed schools, including one that was eventually disbanded because he allowed a black child to attend), I didn't have a serious interest in learning more about Bronson. I even considered skipping the Bronson chapters and going straight to the ones that were about Louisa. However, I managed to resist this initial urge, and I'm very grateful that I did.

Louisa May Alcott's life has undeniable ties to Bronson's, and in order to truly understand her dreams, her fears, and her career, you must also look at Bronson. Bronson, a figure in the United States' transcendentalist movement, possessed lofty ideals and goals but had a difficult time living up to his true potential. His ambitions and strengths were many, but his limitations and weaknesses, including mental instability and an utter inability to support a family, irrevocably shaped Louisa's outlook on life as well as her career, since she did much of her writing, including Little Women, to help support her family and pay back her parents' crushing debt.

Furthermore, the book also shows us the complicated relationship between Bronson and Louisa. Louisa longed for her father's approval, while Bronson wished that Louisa possessed the more retiring and obedient dispositions found in eldest daughter Anna (who became the model for "Meg") and third daughter Elizabeth (who shared her name with her Little Women counterpart). He had a similar view of his wife, Abba, with whom Louisa was very close. Consequently, Louisa's personal and professional lives both involved her desire to conquer her temper and win her father's appreciation.

Besides giving us a complete portrait of Louisa and Bronson, the other strength of Eden's Outcasts is the careful attention to detail Matteson puts into his research. In addition to the excerpts from Louisa's writing, the book also includes quotes and sections from the the letters, diaries, and writings by the Alcott family and their friends and contemporaries. By letting us read the words of Louisa, Bronson, and others, it made the past seem more immediate and helped support Matteson's claims regarding the Alcotts.

If you are interested in the lives of Bronson and Louisa May Alcott or if you just want a sense of the transcendental ideas that were percolating in the United State during the mid-1800s, Eden's Outcasts may be the perfect book for you. It isn't a quick read, but it is an engrossing and thoughtful one, and people who are only familiar with Little Women will find a greater appreciation for the author's talents as well as a better understanding of how and why she tried to conquer her demons through her work.

My Favorite Books of 2010

My reading has suffered this year. According to my LibraryThing tags (which probably isn't the most accurate measurement), I've read 47 books this year. While this isn't bad, it is still lower than my tally in past years. However, I can honestly say that the books I did read in 2010 were, for the most part, very good. Here are, in no particular order, my favorites from the past year:

Finishing the Hat by Stephen Sondheim: My favorite theatre composer/lyricist published a compilation of his lyrics up to 1981's Merrily We Roll Along. This is a must-have for any theatre lover, and I am eagerly awaiting Sondheim's follow-up book, Look, I Made a Hat, which is supposed to be published in the fall of 2011.

The Glamour of Grammar by Roy Peter Clark: A well-written, thoughtful, and fun look at grammar and language. When I received this book as part of LibraryThing's early readers program, my boss gently teased me because: 1) I was reading a book about grammar, 2) this book was selected for me because my book collection on the site suggested that I would enjoy a book about grammar, and 3) I really, really liked this book.

Anne Frank: The Book, the Life, the Afterlife by Francine Prose: When I was getting my master's and doing my student teaching, I found myself having to teach The Diary of Anne Frank (the play) to a bunch of surly eighth graders. This experience, and a prior experience serving as the technical director for the play, made me develop an aversion to Anne Frank. However, Prose's thoughtful and well-argued analysis of the diary encouraged me to revisit the diary and look at as both a piece of literature and a historical document.

Game Change by John Heilemann and Mark Halperin: Yes, I know that this book is very gossipy, but it is also fascinating and well-written. Furthermore, even though I find it hard to completely buy into Heilemann and Halperin's narrative since they don't cite their sources, some of the revelations that have come out in the time since the 2008 election (such as George W. Bush's reaction to John McCain's puzzling behavior in the wake of the financial crisis) help verify their claims.

The Partly Cloudy Patriot by Sarah Vowell: Although Sarah Vowell has been on the literary scene for a while, I hadn't read any of her works until this year, and I am a little sad that it took me this long to read them. Assassination Vacation and The Wordy Shipmates are both very good, but I have a soft spot for The Party Cloudy Patriot, since it helped keep me (relatively) sane and happy during my interminable wait at the air port in November. 

Book Review: "Book Lust to Go" by Nancy Pearl

Although I love books and reading, I sometimes get stuck in a book rut. Despite having a towering “To Be Read” pile, I will have a problem finding anything that suits my fancy. Thankfully, that is when Nancy Pearl’s invaluable Book Lust series comes into play. Her latest addition is Book Lust to Go, a book full of recommended reads dealing with a variety of locales ranging from Baltimore to Berlin and Verona to Vietnam.

Like the other Book Lust books, Book Lust to Go is arranged according to theme, with most of these themes pertaining to the location in question. These themes (mostly) make sense, even when Pearl decides to use quips or puns (think “Just So Much Greek to Me”). Besides countries, the book includes sections dedicated to hiking (hilariously titled, “Hiking the (You Fill in the Blank Trail”), mountains, and bodies of water (separated into “Row, Row, Row Your Boat,” “See the Sea,” and “Water, Water Everywhere”).

Far from just relying on the ubiquitous travel guides, this collection includes novels, memoirs by travelers and native authors, and other pieces of non-fiction. Regardless of what you are in the mood for reading, chances are that you will find something to satisfy your literary craving. The breadth of literature represented in this book is all the more impressive when considering the fact that Pearl judiciously tried to avoid repeating books from her three previous Book Lust forays.

Overall, Book Lust to Go is the perfect resource not just for the armchair adventurer or the reader struck with wanderlust, but for people who are going on a trip but is at a loss for what to read. Not only will Book Lust to Go give them a wealth of suggestions to help them pass the time while traveling, it will (more often than not) offer them book ideas that will give them better insight into the place they are going.

Book Review: "Finishing the Hat: Collected Lyrics (1954-1981) with Attendant Comments, Principles, Heresies, Grudges, Whines and Anecdotes" by Stephen Sondheim

I have long had a love affair with musical theatre. When I was younger, this love affair was all-consuming; anything and everything Broadway-related, from Andrew Lloyd Webber to (shudder) Frank Wildhorn, was fair game, and I admit that I had at least two versions of the Jekyll and Hyde soundtrack in my CD collection. However, with age and experience comes discernment. While I still have a fondness for some ALW, my interest in Wildhorn's pedestrian work died before I entered college and any lingering attachment perished when David Hasselhoff played the title role(s) in a televised version of Jekyll and Hyde.

Luckily, college introduced me to the works of Stephen Sondheim, and ever since, I have become a bit of a Sondheim snob. Consequently, when I heard that he was writing a book that included the lyrics for his shows, as well as essays and reflections on the songs, I was psyched (sadly enough, I probably used this exact phrase when telling my students about it. Unsurprisingly, they were not nearly as excited as I was).

Finishing the Hat includes the lyrics for Sondheim's shows from Saturday Night (conceived of before West Side Story, but unperformed until 1997) to the wonderful (if poorly received) Merrily We Roll Along. Interspersed among all of the lyrics are overviews of the shows as well as short essays and notes about the songs (hence the Comments, Principles, Heresies, Grudges, Whines, and Anecdotes from the book's subtitle). The book also contains Sondheim's original notes and reflections on other lyric writers (all deceased), such as Oscar Hammerstein II (Sondheim's mentor), Irving Berlin, and Cole Porter. In short, this book is a musical lover's dream come true.

While the lyrics are the real star of the book (and, as Sondheim noted in his interview with Terry Gross for NPR's Fresh Air, they read very well on the page), I found myself really enjoying his thoughts upon revisiting the lyrics. For instance, his explanation for changing "Rich and Happy" to "That Frank" not only helps us understand his rationale for the change but also gives us a deeper appreciation for the thought that he puts into his music and lyrics. I also enjoyed Sondheim's forthrightness and candor, which rarely devolve into malicious gossip (the closest he gets is in his recollections of The Frogs). He is quick to praise the lyricists who came before him and influenced his work (as his pastiche work in Follies shows), but he also does not hold back when it comes to critiquing their more questionable lyrics. Even as I felt myself getting defensive on behalf of lyricists like Gershwin (whose work Sondheim refers to as "Rhyming poison"), Sondheim uses specific examples to prove his points, and even when I admire the lyricist in question, I often found myself understanding and agreeing with Sondheim's anlysis.

One of the roads I didn't take was taking a course (or set of courses) dedicated to musical theatre. However, Sondheim's Finishing the Hat provides a veritable master class on musical theatre and the thought and care that go into creating a musical. Read it while listening to Sondheim's songs, and you will get the full appreciation of a master at work.

Book Review: "The Partly Cloudy Patriot" by Sarah Vowell

This week has been one of minor annoyances, and today's adventure, which included cancelled and delayed flights, is no exception. However, if there is one nice thing I can say about waiting six hours at the airport is that it gave me the perfect opportunity to catch up on some fun reading. While reading something heavy (think Camus or Proust) would not have worked, Sarah Vowell's The Partly Cloudy Patriot was the perfect companion for a morning that devolved into a long, sad experience at Logan Airport. I finished it just as my plane started its descent, and while I was still annoyed by the delays, I was glad that I had such an enjoyable book to prevent me from being more irritated.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I've been on a bit of a Sarah Vowell kick. After reading The Wordy Shipmates and Assassination Vacation, I was eager to read The Partly Cloudy Patriot during my sojourn to the Happiest Place on Earth. Although Vowell's trademark wry humor and preoccupation with American history remain the same through these three books, The Partly Cloudy Patriot is a collection of essays addressing the author's thoughts on a variety of subjects. The diverse selection of topics, as well as the essay format, make this an excellent selection for reading on the go because I could easily read an essay in a brief amount of time before sprinting to a changed gate or listening to the pilot's announcements.

The essays range in topic from Vowell's musings on California to the nerdiness of Al Gore (and how embracing this nerdiness might have changed people's perceptions of him to popular culture (Vowell has an innate distrust of Tom Cruise). All of these essays are light in tone even as she explores the darker sides of her topics. In the title essay, Vowell explores her complex views on the American flag, particularly in the wake of September 11 and the war that followed. She also admits her fascination (and love for) historic sites that are associated with the more tragic moments of our history and goes so far as to recount a conversation she has with a psychologist friend about why she is happiest at places like Salem, Massachusetts.

Even though I wholeheartedly enjoy Vowell's musings, I don't know if I would go so far as to recommend it to everyone. Her willingness (and forthrightness) in admitting to and exploring her complicated views on history and America in general would definitely be a turn off for a certain segment of the population. Even some people who share Vowell's love of history might balk at her salty language, liberal ideals, and irreverent treatment of subjects that are usually considered too sacrosanct to be mocked or even questioned. However, for people who don't mind (or revel in) a heaping helping of irreverence mixed in with their history and pop culture, The Partly Cloudy Patriot definitely deserves a place on the "To Be Read" list.

Book Review: "The Glamour of Grammar"

I have long had a love-hate relationship with grammar. Although it is necessary for effective writing, I also have nightmares of the grammar exercises from school, and I always dreaded having to teach grammar to my high school students.

However, Roy Peter Clark’s The Glamour of Grammar: A Guide to the Magic and Mystery of Practical English illustrates that grammar does not have to be the dry, lifeless subject found in schools. By inviting readers to “embrace grammar… not as a set of rules but as a box of tools” (p.2), Clark manages to make a somewhat imposing subject into something that seems both approachable and relevant.

The Glamour of Grammar consists of 50 super-short chapters divided into five sections: Words, Points, Standards, Meaning, and Purpose. Within these sections, Clark covers every topic grammatical and writing topic imaginable, such as the difference between literal and figurative, and how to properly use an exclamation point. I particularly appreciated the “Keepsakes” he includes at the end of each chapter. These sections provide pithy sound bites of the chapter’s main points.

One of the main draws of The Glamour of Grammar is the writing. He takes what, in other people’s hands, could be an uninspiring topic and makes it fascinating. Furthermore, Clark does not just give lip service to language; he obviously loves words and grammar, as illustrated by the many writing samples he includes. His selection and analysis of these samples offer a glimpse of how Clark must approach reading. Rather than merely reading for information, I can imagine him savoring the language and feeling a great deal of excitement when he finds a great piece of writing.

All in all, this is one of the best books on grammar and writing I have encountered, and it would work equally well as a reference book or as a cover-to-cover read. Although I was skeptical before I started reading it (the title seems to be promising a bit much), Clark does an excellent job emphasizing the beauty (and, yes, the “magic and mystery”) found in grammar.

I received this book as part of the LibraryThing Early Reviewers Program.

Book Review: "Anne Frank: The Book, the Life, the Afterlife"

"Dear Anne,
Your silent photograph disperses you thirteen shrouded
years. Were you always
so fragile and mute, Anne Frank? I look at you but you
are no longer a face behind the bankrupt mirror"
- from Dear Anne Frank: Poems by Marjorie Agosin

Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl is a book that students usually encounter as an eyewitness account of one girl's experiences during the Holocaust, and they often remember the book as a straightforward diary. Although the diary does function as a firsthand account of a tragedy, it isn't pure, unedited work that most people think it is. Besides the fact that Otto Frank, Anne's father and the only surviving member of the Secret Annex, decided not to publish some of the more intimate entries and unflattering portrayals of the Annex dwellers (out of respect for the dead), Anne herself did a lot of editing and rewriting of her work while in the attic, looking ahead to its publication after the war.

Francine Prose's Anne Frank: The Book, the Life, the Afterlife attempts to correct the misconception that Anne's work is merely a diary by offering an in-depth look at her self-editing process, her growth as a writing, and the immense influence her diary has had (both as a book and as a play/film). It is a surprisingly effective way of forcing the reader to rediscover a classic and appreciate it on a new level.

While Prose gives us an overview of of the Franks' lives before the war, the first half of the book is entrenched in discussing Anne's writing and editing process. Inspired after hearing on the radio that Gerrit Bolkestein, the minister of education, art, and science in the exiled Dutch government, was looking for documents written by Dutch citizens during the war, Anne made numerous rewrites and revisions to her existing writing. Prose also cites other influences on Anne's writing, including the popular Joop ter Heul novels (an adolescent literature series) and the continued evolution of the relationships among the inhabitants of the Secret Annex.

The second half of Prose's book gives us an account of the book's influence, including the formation of the Anne Frank-Fonds and the Anne Frank Foundation, the opening of the Anne Frank House, and creation (and bitter disputes over) the Broadway play based on the diary. Throughout all of this, Prose never allows us to neglect Anne's skill and voice as a writer. For instance, she calls attention to the problematic Broadway adaption. Although she concedes that the play did bring Anne to a larger audience, she also notes that, by trying to make the play more universal, the playwrights under emphasized the work's Jewish identity and made Anne seem naive and "stupid, which is the impression created by scene after scene" in the play.

Despite possibly overstating Anne's metacognitive abilities when it comes to her writing, this book is successful overall in that it provokes us to rethink the diary as not just an eyewitness look at the Holocaust but also as a piece of literature. I particularly recommend for teachers (and English teacher educators) to read this book and reconsider how to approach The Diary of a Young Girl when teaching it to students. By encouraging us to look at the diary with a new perspective, Prose's work might be one of the best ways to remember and honor Anne's legacy, not just as a victim of the Holocaust or as an adolescent who died far too soon but also as a writer.

Summer (Re)Reading, 2010

For whatever reason, I've been sort of a slacker this summer when it comes to reading new books. While I can blame my crazy schedule, I think that there is more to it than that. However, this summer has provided me with the perfect opportunity to revisit some of my old favorites as well as some books that I didn't love the first time around but thought they were worth revisiting.

New Books I've Read This Summer

Anne Frank: The Book, the Life, the Afterlife by Francine Prose
I didn't care for Prose's How to Read Like a Writer, so I approached Anne Frank with some trepidation. However, I found this book thoroughly enjoyable. Besides exploring the backstory of the diary and how it came to be published, Prose makes a convincing argument for appreciating the diary as literature, rather than just as a historical document.

The Book of General Ignorance by John Lloyd and John Mitchinson
Learn pieces of trivia that you thought you knew. From knowing who coined the phrase "the survival of the fittest" (Herbert Spencer) to words that rhyme with orange (two proper nouns: Blorenge and Gorringe), this book serves as a reminder of just how much you don't know. It's a fun, diverting read, even if it does make you question your IQ.

Reading Revisits

Ex Libris by Anne Fadiman (first read in 2008)
Even though I had mixed emotions to this book when I read it two years ago, I decided it was worth a revisit, just to see if I had a change of opinion or if absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder. I did find Fadiman's essays just as interesting and readable as I did in 2008, but I was also still appalled/fascinated by the self-congratulatory tone in some of the entries. That said, rereading this book also reminding me of some Fadiman's very insightful comments regarding her sometimes idiosyncratic love of reading. Among some of my favorite quotes:

• "American admire success. Englishmen admire heroic failure. Given a choice - at least in my reading - I'm un-American enough to take quixotry over efficiency any day" (p.24)"
• I came to realize that just as there is more than one way to love a person, so is there more than one way to love a book. The chambermaid believed in courtly love... The Fadiman family believed in carnal love. To us, a book's words were holy, but the paper, cloth, cardboard, glue, thread, and ink that contained them were a mere vessel" (p.38).
• "I'd rather have a book [to read], but in a pinch I'll settle for a set of Water Pik instructions" (p.113).
  

At Large and At Small by Anne Fadiman (started in 2008, finished in 2010)
After Ex Libris, I tried reading another collection of essays by Fadiman. Although I started the book in 2008, I soon found myself occupied with other things (namely, my comprehensive exam), and so At Large and At Small was shelved, unfinished, until this summer. The essays are similar to those in Ex Libris, but the subject matter does not stop at books. Instead, Fadiman writes about her love of coffee and ice cream as well as the bittersweet experience of moving from a beloved New York apartment to a country house. While not as compulsively readable as Ex Libris, At Large and At Small is still worth a read.

Game Change by John Heilemann and Mark Halperin (read and reviewed earlier this year)
So far, this is one of my favorite books of 2010...