ljbwell: just a readin' machine in 2013

OK, OK, probably not really. But it rhymes.

My 2012 Club Read thread

I've really enjoyed and appreciated the interactions in Club Read, and look forward again to seeing what people are reading, musings about what they've read, etc. I'm setting a target again, but that's because a) it's become habit and b) I like picking out a new ticker each year. Simple pleasures.

Happy reading in 2013, everyone!

Keeping the bar where it was in 2012 - attainable. I tend towards sunny, beachy counters, as I tend towards living in places where that is lacking. The hamster in the bubble is both emblematic and reminds me of The Prisoner.

I like the hamster! And I've starred your thread.

The poor thing looks a little nervous at zero.

Do hamsters swim?

>4 dchaikin:, 5: Hopefully the little guy will be off and running over the weekend - I should have my 1st book done then. I like odd, or at least less matchy-matchy, combos. One year I did a turtle on train tracks.

I like to think of the hamster as number 6 - 'I am not a number! I am a free (animal)!' - trying to get away from the Village, but the bubble has caught up to him. That, or this

The Prisoner is indeed awesome! Was the hamster as close to Patrick McGoohan as you could get?

One year I did a turtle on train tracks.
Oh that makes me anxious!!

Looking forward to your reading year.

>7 RidgewayGirl: - hmmm..., well, the cutest and most bubble-enclosed?

>8 detailmuse: - Thanks! And yes, the turtle on the tracks is a bit of my darker humor coming through.

Still, he's on the move:

1. Bicycle Diaries by David Byrne (303 p., non-fiction)

I rarely think of a book in terms of a soundtrack to go with it, but natural choices here would be pretty much anything from Talking Heads and Byrne's solo work (a couple selections from The Knee Plays keep coming to mind - esp In the Future and I've Tried).

Bicycle Diaries is part travelogue, part (reluctant) advocacy piece. The thread, enjoyably tenuous (by his own admission) at times, is that Byrne cycles. He loves the freedom it gives him, and the reality that getting places by bicycle, especially in urban places, is often more efficient than going by car and more flexible and direct than public transportation. So much so that he has a folding bicycle he takes with him on longer travels, or rents on shorter trips.

Each chapter is a location - an amalgam of US places, Berlin, Istanbul, Manila, Buenos Aires, Sydney, London, and then San Francisco and New York. The amount of cycling that actually goes on varies. Often, what he rides by or his impressions as a cyclist in the city are springboards for musings about a whole host of other subjects and personal observations. The chapter on New York, Byrne's home, focuses the most on cycling, on his own efforts to promote cycling, and on encouraging the spread of cycle and pedestrian-friendly urban development.

It was wonderful to get even a glimpse into Byrne's mind, and to see several facets to this multi-talented man. His voice and personality radiate through the text. The result is that even the tangents are interesting and entertaining. A great start to the year.

What an interesting book! And now I have the Talking Heads "This Ain't No Disco" playing in my head - why that one, I don't know. But there it is. glad to see your hamster on the move.

"Psycho Killer" is playing in my head. I'm not sure what that says about me exactly.

11>psycho killer qu'est que c'est fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa better run run run run run run run away

Now you got me going...

I think it says you are very cool, fuzzy_patters

And I'll guess I'll need to put Bicycle Diaries on the WishList.

> 10, 11, 12: Great to see TH songs and lyrics popping up here. Let me stress, if you want a coherent read about Byrne and cycling, this might not be the best choice. But if you like Byrne and are interested in somewhat meandering ruminations about a) his travels, b) what he does, and c) what he thinks and thinks about, it is a fun read.

9 - Interesting. I've been checking out his new book How Music Works and hope to get it this year.

Oooh, looking forward to seeing what you think about it if you do get to it. He's got a few other books, such as How Music Works, that I'm interested in reading, too.

2. An Object of Beauty by Steve Martin (295 p.)

After Shopgirl and The Pleasure of My Company, I was really looking forward to this. I had completely forgotten I had it, and when I came across it on the shelf the time seemed right. It expected art, Manhattan, and the intelligent wit and soul of Steve Martin. I got art and Manhattan.

Lacey Yeager is one of those young women that immediately draws attention - attractive, clever, and knows how to present herself. With men, this is often playful, non-committal, and/or manipulative. She lands a job at Sotheby's, works her way up to the floor during auctions, and eventually moves to a private gallery. The story itself is narrated (sort of) by a long-time friend, Daniel.

The best part of the book were the photos of art works by artists mentioned in the story. It also weaves in some real-life people with the fictional characters. The valuations, appreciation of art, how auctions work, etc. were interesting highlights as well.

That said, the book, for me, lacked the heart that was so present and endearing in Pleasure of My Company and Shopgirl. It seemed more enamored of someone I found uninteresting. But maybe that's the point - we're seeing her ability to twist everyone around her finger through the eyes of one of the many people (again, mainly men) willing to drop everything to help or be with her.

I agree completely about An Object of Beauty. Its only salvation is in the exploration of Manhattan's fine-art world. But I'm sure that's done better elsewhere.

I expected art, Manhattan, and the intelligent wit and soul of Steve Martin. I got art and Manhattan.

That is disappointing. :(
I loved The Pleasure of My Company and was interested in this one.

ETA: I mean about the lack of Steve Martin wit, not art and Manhattan. :)

:-) - I've talked about it with my husband a lot, and we agreed that it felt soulless, shallow. Some interesting bits and talking points, but on the whole 'meh'. Oh, well.

On an up note:

3. Grandville Bête Noire (104 p., graphic novel)

This is the 3rd in this steampunk crime graphic novel series featuring anthropomorphic animals. Scotland Yard's DI LeBrock and DS Roderick Ratzi again find themselves in a Paris, France run by Emperor Napoleon XII (Britain lost the Napoleonic War and has become part of the French Empire). There's a cabal of rich industrialists (run out of Toad Hall) plotting to overthrow the government using powerful, deadly automatons. There's also a clash between traditional figurative artists (for whom a friend/lover of LeBrock's models) vs. new wave ones.

Talbot's illustrations are luscious and the story is again a good one - rich colours, wonderful details, and plenty of allusions/nods to Sherlock Holmes, Bertie Wooster, Wind in the Willows and more.

Fun & quirky background details include crowd scenes with other comics characters (some I could identify, but am sure I missed others), visual and written take-offs on artists at the time, and more.

At the end, Talbot provides some interesting historical context as well.

Wonderful series and a great surprise gift at the holidays.

You're off to an interesting reading year.

Thanks! I needed to feel like I was making progress as I make my way through Living Souls, and a graphic novel always fits the bill.

Grandville Bete Noir sounds like a good one - onto the WishList it goes.

Ugh, I know, I know. For a variety of reasons - some justifiable, others are plain rationalisations - I just haven't been reading as much lately. But...

4. Galápagos by Kurt Vonnegut (240 p.)

Yet another Oxfam find.

This is a post-apocalyptic satire about Darwinism and evolution. In short, we are all still evolving and eventually, looking back, will realize how much our big brains have limited us. The story is told by a ghost looking back to a momentous event 1 million years in the past.

Parts feel a bit dated - frequent reference is made to Jacqueline Onassis. I also found it fairly repetitive and ultimately unsurprising. I loved the idea and some of the conceits (I've already seen ways to use '*' in a nod to how it is used in Galápagos), but overall it failed to draw me in.

Ach, at least I finished a book, still making my way through, and am over halfway through a more recent one.

Hey, nice to see you back!

Thanks so much! Keeping my little hamster on a bit of a roll...

5. Hygiène de l'assassin by Amélie Nothomb (French, 181 p.)

I was heading to France for a few days (mix of work and not) and thought it would be a good opportunity to throw in something in French. This had been given to me, so I grabbed it and brought it along.

The book is almost all dialogue and takes place in a confined space (1 room). The central figure is Prétextat Tach. At 83, he is obese, all-consuming (in multiple senses), mean, clever, arrogant, misogynist, taunting, and more. He is also a Nobel Prize winning author. When he receives a terminal diagnosis, he allows himself to be interviewed by journalists. The first four flee. Then in comes the 5th, and things change. This one isn't intimidated, and has done deeper research about Tach. What remains, then, is the verbal parrying between the two as Tach's past is revealed.

This is not for the squeamish. There are a couple passages that are uncomfortable to read. The ways Tach toys with the first four journalists are like watching a cat bat around a mouse. The shift in tone, attitude, the refusal of the fifth to give in, to run away, the attempts by each to force the other to grovel, all are interesting. His arrogance is called into question, his attitudes and ideals challenged at every turn - as are the journalist's.

The book explores the life, psychology, and habits of Prétextat Tach. A compelling examination of a deplorable character.

To my happy surprise Nothomb's book is available in both French and English (as Hygiene and the Assassin) from Barny Noble. The English version is now on my wishlist; getting it in French would likely keep me from reading it forever.

Robert

I thought I had the Nothomb on my wishlist but now I do for sure. To see all that happen through dialogue sounds fascinating.

>25 Mr.Durick:, 26: Thanks for stopping by! The Nothomb one was an interesting surprise, and one I keep thinking about. I'll be interested to see others' thoughts (and curious how it reads in translation).

A compelling examination of a deplorable character...so much great fiction consists of this. Nice review and thanks Robert for the note that it is in English, although it might be a good way to learn some pointed French.

I picked up 'ramper' and was reminded of 'pudique' from this one. It's slim and some of the key words & phrases like these are repeated several times - to the point where you either pick up the context or decide it's time to look it up.

6. Hej lättja (134 p., Swedish translation from French, non-fiction)

Normally I would have preferred the original French, but this was actually a gift for my husband. I was in the mood for (or, rather, needed to) read some non-fiction Swedish, so picked this up. It turns out I read most of it with a stomach bug, and left it behind, so my recollection of detail is fuzzy at best. Apologies in advance....

A mix of humor and critique, Maier examines the working world and calls for employees to do the minimum possible in the workplace. While she is looking mostly at the corporate world, her observations are often applicable to any work environment. She looks at the different office personalities, discusses how bosses will use you, says most employees are are just showing up for a paycheck (but heaven help you if you ever state it aloud in a public work setting as she once did), that it's the true believers that you have to worry about, etc.

It is not the most groundbreaking work, but has its moments of sarcastic humor. A fairly light, easy read that fit the bill.

oh super. I've known you five minutes and already have two new books on my wish list. Bicycle Diaries and How Music works both sound interesting.

Happy to be of service! :-)

7. Vignettes of Ystov by William Goldsmith (64 p., graphic novel)

I'm smack dab in the midst of a major move. This has meant precious little reading over the past weeks, and probably for a week or so to come. Vignettes of Ystov has been beckoning from the shelves and this seemed like an appropriate time for it.

Ystov is a fictional East European town. The inhabitants are sketched in a cast of characters, as some recur in multiple vignettes. There are threads and intersections of lives, with an overall wistful tone. There's the janitor who, it is discovered, has collected rubbish and catalogued it into a museum in his apartment; the former poet whose time in the Strombold Collective is long in the past; the man with the keen sense of smell; the two astrophysicists who are out to disprove coincidence; the two children who split couples who shouldn't be together (and occasionally help along those that should); and more.

It is a lovely, sometimes bittersweet graphic novel. The illustrations, in palettes, have a watercolor feel to them and work well for the East European settings. A wonderful find.

Oh I couldn't resist another one! I've only discovered graphic novels and read less than 10 and this sounds to interesting to pass up. That "Get this book" button is so dangerous, isn,t it? Dangerous and wonderfully convenient!

It is lovely - I'm happy to spread the word!

At the risk of leading you further down a path of danger: Depending what you are looking for in graphic novels, I can also recommend I Kill Giants. It works for both a younger audience and adults. It has a wonderful story and heart, and an imaginative, individual, quirky female protagonist. Hereville is another good one with a strong-willed female lead, and it has an interesting cultural backdrop.

*takes notes* lol. I haven't heard of either of those two.

So funny - I used to go to a graphic novel when I wanted something lighter and quicker. Ha! They take FOREVER to "read" because I can't stop looking at the pictures - they are so full of information that just keeps expanding!

ETA: Thanks for the recommends!

I thought Hereville was fun, although I think my daughter liked it better than I did...I never finished...(there are two volumes, both are back on the library)

Intrigued by William Goldsmith.

ooh Vignettes of Ystov is now on its way to me via interlibrary loan.

>38 dchaikin:: I've only read the one, and enjoyed it well enough.

>39 detailmuse:: Ahhh... I'll be curious to see what you think. There's not much to read, per se, so it is well worth a re-read/more careful look to pick up on new things.

The 1st part of the move is over. Phew. I'm still waiting for an initial shipment, which will include a few books. This is one of three books I brought physically with me on the move to read in the interim. It helped to have an interview (plus a 2nd round) which was a one hour+ train ride away...

8. Doomsday Book by Connie Willis (587 p.)

In the midst of my Jeeves and Wooster kick, a colleague recommended Connie Willis's To Say Nothing of the Dog, which I loved. When I mentioned how much I'd enjoyed that one, she further recommended Doomsday Book. The idea of time travel to the Middle Ages, and an author I knew I liked, meant it was a no-brainer that I'd read it.

In terms of the specific edition I read, I wouldn't recommend reading the introduction until after. If you know nothing of the book, don't read the back cover either (or, for that matter, most of the reviews available). I'll do my best here not to tip too much.

It is 2054, Oxford, England, and history student Kivrin Engle has decided she wants to travel to 1320, around Christmastime, for her research. She succeeds in convincing her mentor, Professor Dunworthy, to let her go. He is dubious that Medieval have prepared thoroughly enough, and frets that Kivrin will be in real danger. She, however, is eager and headstrong, and insists on going through with the drop. Very soon after the drop, a new, unidentified influenza starts to spread through the present-day campus.

The story then follows 2 paths: Kivrin's in the 14th century and the present-day events - in particular the spread and effects of the influenza epidemic and the attempt to re-open the net in time to get Kivrin back.

There are some wonderful characters in both threads that you grow to care about (or despise), to root for (or want to yell at). Plus, it is a fascinating study of epidemiology in both time periods: how diseases start and spread, how they are treated (both medicinally and emotionally), and how their sources are traced. At times the humor that worked so well in To Say Nothing of the Dog is less fitting here; at the same time, that levity is necessary in light of the tragedies happening in both times.

Despite having been written about 20 years ago, the book still felt very current, especially references to bird flu and other epidemics, rushes to get vaccinations, setting up quarantines. Looking at the measles outbreak in Wales, the various bird flus of the past few years, there are many issues which are just as relevant now as they were then.

I enjoyed Doomsday Book as well. I read it many years ago, and while I am not much of a sci fi fan, it fell enough into the historical fiction/fantasy realm that I found it quite enjoyable.

I've heard that her books start to get a bit repetitive, so I don't know if I'll read more than the two - but I agree that the historical fiction angle makes them fun reads.

9. The Sisters Brothers by Patrick deWitt (325 p.)

Eli Sisters narrates this story, set in 1851 during the Gold Rush. The brothers start in Oregon City and then make their way into California. He and his brother Charlie are hired guns for the wealthy, powerful Commodore. In this case, the Sisters Brothers are to track down Hermann Kermit Warm who has in some way wronged the Commodore. A mere mention of the Sisters Brothers evokes fear (or misplaced attempts at heroics). Eli, however, is starting to have a change of heart and is thinking of quitting the business.

As with any road trip adventure story, Eli recounts their various stops and encounters on the way to their ultimate destination - some funny, some violent, some prophetic, some raunchy, some violent, often a combination. Eli often reflects on his life and career, and waxes philosophic about a quieter life.

At times, the tone and construction of The Sisters Brothers reminded me of the Coen Brothers' take on The Odyssey in the movie "O' Brother, Where Art Thou?".

Juxtaposed against his brother, Eli makes for an interesting, often sympathetic, narrator, despite his line of work. He is starting to want something more stable, and with each encounter of someone corrupted in some way by the challenges of the Wild West and/or gold, the desire to settle down seems to be growing.

There is some fairly gruesome detail, so despite the humor it is not a book for the squeamish. I found myself squinting at times, the way I would at a particularly violent scene in a movie. Unfortunately, this doesn't really work when reading. But if that doesn't put you off, it is a good, multilayered read.

Nice review there. I recently read The Sisters Brothers too and loved it. I know what you mean about the 'squint-while-you're-reading' moments!

Interesting that you were also put in mind of the Coen brothers... NOBODY else should be allowed to adapt this story for the big screen!

I have The Sisters Brothers on my Kindle. Maybe I should move it up higher on my reading list. The Coen brothers are wonderful, so if this evoked that image, it adds to the interest.

>45 Polaris-: & 46: Thanks for the comments! When reading, I often find myself casting the movie (and this did feel like a book destined to become a movie).

I agree that the Coen brothers would do it well (and fitting to have brothers do a book about brothers). I'm loathe to see it in the hands of, say, Quentin Tarantino - he'd over-emphasize the violence and go too graphic with it. In a slight foray from his usual more teen sci-fi/horror/superhero genre work, I'm wondering whether Joss Whedon could do interesting things with it (Firefly/Serenity was based on a love of cowboy/westerns, and he is so good at bringing out the humanity in his characters).

Now I am sold on The Sisters Brothers great review.

Loved The Sisters Brothers which I read earlier this year.

My vote is for the Coen Brothers.

It'll be interesting to see what happens if/when it does become a movie.

Meanwhile, about 200 pages into Lilla Stjärna (Little Star, by John Ajvide Lindqvist of Let the Right One In fame) and I've decided/realized my next book has to be the reading equivalent of fluffy bunnies and rainbows. Between influenza/plague, hitmen, and now (very) psychologically damaged/disturbed tweens, I'm going to need something lighter, and soon.

10. Lilla stjärna by John Ajvide Lindqvist (Swedish, 346 p.)

Short review: Jeez, I hope this book doesn't give me nightmares.

Longer version:

First off, set aside the fact that there are plot points you can drive a truck through. A big, huge flatbed semi truck. Second, I will admit I'm at a bit of a loss how to write about this one. I don't know if my skin is crawling for the right reasons (that the author can write an effective eerie, disturbing book) or wrong ones (that the way he does it is the literary equivalent of the splatter films one of the characters is so fond of watching).

Lilla stjärna (little star) starts where it ends. (NOTE: Depending whether you want to know up front where everything is headed, you could, in fact, skip the 1 page prologue.) It then goes back to trace how we get to that point.

The book is primarily about 2 girls - separately, and then together. The first is found as a baby, abandoned in the woods, by Lennart. He takes her home and, together with his wife Laila, keeps the baby. Lennart and Laila were singers who had a minor hit in the past, so when Lennart hears the baby's voice, he is convinced he can raise her to be a raw talent that will stun the music world. He thinks the best way to do so is to keep the child away from outside influences; to him, this means keeping her in the basement. Lennart and Laila are a damaged couple, with a damaged son. Lennart is controlling and cold, Laila is withdrawn, and their adult son Jerry is violent and threatening. Even as a baby, she clearly not 'normal'; she stares, makes no noise (outside of the music tones that come from her), doesn't connect.

The second has a more traditional upbringing, but always feels on the outside. She uses the internet to create different personas, writes some poetry, and so on. It isn't until she encounters the 1st girl that she begins to feel like a part of something.

This is a very disturbing book. If I thought The Sisters Brothers or the Girl with the dragon tattoo trilogy had scenes that made me wince, those were lite, PG, in comparison to some of the things that happen in Lilla stjärna. Some of it is psychological - seeing how the girls end up where they do, separately and together. But some of it is pretty graphic, descriptive, bloody violence. I found the psychological development and evolution of the girls interesting. We get background, too, especially for Lennart, Laila and Jerry. However, there were points where I could have done without some of the gore.

Ajvide Lindqvist covers some of the same territory from previous books, especially Låt den rätta komma in, including some unpleasant adult-child relationships (in a variety of levels). Lilla stjärna skirts around whether there is anything supernatural about the 1st girl, or whether it is just one more sign of her state of mind.

It is an effective horror book, but again not for the squeamish. I'm still pondering whether it was at or past my limit. But it definitely left me thinking about it. There's much more I'd want to discuss, but can't without going into details that would give things away.

EDIT: Oh, and, both in the spirit of the upcoming Eurovision being held in Sweden, and with (creepy) reference to Lilla stjärna, this ABBA song will never be quite the same.

11. Burley Cross Postbox Theft by Nicola Barker (368 p.)

Having finished off the books I'd brought on my recent move, and not yet getting the delivery with a few others, I visited the local library. I was in the mood for a light (mood, not weight) book in English and found it in Barker's Burley Cross Postbox Theft (BCPT).

This epistolary novel opens with one police officer handing this intriguing, juicy gem of a case over to another: who broke open the postbox in Burley Cross, stole the letters, and then dumped them (mostly unopened) nearby?

What follows are the contents of the stolen letters themselves. These reveal the various goings-on in the English village of Burley Cross.

The book was perfect for what I wanted: a story where the conflict is, for the most part, done with humor. Having been involved myself in a few community-level projects, while the humor in BCPT is exaggerated, how caught up (and worked up) people get in seemingly inane and petty events definitely rings true.

More letters than not involve Little Britain-esque unraveling of events (see especially the shamed MP press statement).

The characters, like shows such as those in The Office or the Vicar of Dibley, are funny in their exaggerated representations of people you've likely come across in the day-to-day world, but have some pathos. The book shows how under the microscope everyone's actions are in a village, but also that, in the end, the individuals in the village act in the best interest of all.

It's one of those that I give a high 3-stars to - very enjoyable, found myself reading parts aloud to my husband and we'd both laugh, but not much beyond it. It was the perfect book to follow the dark, grim books of late, and a good, quick summer read.

That sounds like fun.

It was!

12. Jamrach's Menagerie by Carol Birch (352 p.)

This was a random selection from the local library's English section.

The book opens in 1857. Jaffy Brown has never known his father and his mother is vague on the subject. He is an 8-year old urchin on the streets of London when, as he recounts it, one event completely changes the course of his life: he encounters and is 'eaten by' an escaped tiger. He is saved by the tiger's keeper, Mr Jamrach, who collects and sells on animals gathered from around the world. Jamrach has elephants, camels, exotic birds, lions, tigers, snakes, and more. Jamrach takes Jaffy under his wing, providing him with work, food, education, training.

In a similar position is Tim, another young lad, just a bit older than Jaffy. Tim, too, has been taken on by Jamrach as a hand. Jaffy & Tim have a conflicted, but ultimately close, friendship. One of Jamrach's contacts is Dan Rymer, a man filled with tales of adventure on the high seas. When Tim has the opportunity to join Rymer in a voyage on a whaling ship, and with the goal to capture and bring back a dragon for a client, Jaffy decides to join as well.

The bulk of the book, in fact, centers around this voyage. There are scenes of life on a ship, of whaling, of foreign shores, of tracking the Komodo dragon, and more. The voyage takes a turn, and much time is spent on this.

Jamrach's Menagerie is very much a coming of age story. Jaffy's experience on that voyage, in what is very much a transition age, affects him in profound ways. He has known all sorts of sailors and their tales, but from encounters on shore. Through the journey, he learns how the sea can drive a man mad, but also keep calling him back.

Given how little of the story is about Jamrach (who is loosely based on an actual person, and the encounter with the tiger getting loose is also based on an actual event), I kept thinking about the title. Jamrach cares for and about his animals. He recognizes that some of the conditions are not ideal. In a similar way, then, Jaffy and Tim and others form a part of Jamrach's menagerie - potentially lost, captured, confused, directionless souls that he brings in and provides them with safety and security. But ultimately, like the animals, his unofficial wards need to be free, to make their own way, not be trapped and caged. And the world beyond is huge, daunting, and filled with pitfalls.

Ultimately, though, the book fell short for me. While there are a lot of interesting-sounding characters, in the end I felt I didn't know them well enough to be moved by some of the events that occur. The story dragged out one particular section, and then felt comparatively superficial and glossed over other potentially more interesting threads. There are hints of (or nods to?) Melville & Dickens, but again more superficial than those authors' works. In the end, I found it simultaneously interesting and disappointing.

It is sad that there are so many books that start out with a good idea, and then fall flat in the execution.

13. The Winter Queen by Boris Akunin (translation from Russian, 249 p.)

This is the 1st in Boris Akunin's Erast Fandorin crime detective series. I'd heard a bit about them and, given a reawakened interest in Russia, thought it would be an interesting, summer-friendly approach.

It is 1876 and Erast Fandorin is a young, eager clerk & civil servant (rank of Collegiate Registrar) in Moscow's Criminal Investigation Police Department (he is level 14/low on the Russian Table of Ranks, which is helpfully provided in the book). Fandorin is well-educated, multi-lingual, and moving up the ladder quickly for someone barely 20 years old.

He becomes involved in investigating the very public suicide of a wealthy student. While there is little question *what* happened, there are many questions as to *why*. He also sets out to find out about the student's odd behavior leading up to the act, his somewhat curious last will & testament, and other people he was involved with prior to the event. The case takes him from Moscow & Saint-Petersburg across Europe, with the guidance, support and assistance of State Counsellor Ivan Franzevich Brilling (level 4 or 5) who is brought in to lead the investigation.

The story has captivating seductresses (young Fandorin finds himself enthralled more than once), wealthy louches, foreign influences, national & international intrigue, a few more deaths, and lots of questionable motives. Akunin inserts critiques & observations of Russian society - for example, there are hierarchies to be observed and respected; Brilling dismisses one hypothesis as 'anti-Semitic ravings'; some of the characters are suspicious of a British woman who has opened orphanages in Russia. While twists and turns are not particularly surprising, the story is interesting and fun. I'm looking forward to reading the next one.

The Winter Queen sounds like an excellent read, especially as ii is so steeped in all things Russian. There are many crime series books that rely on their "settings" to give the novels originality. As this one was written by a Russian who has things to say about the society, then this will give it an advantage over many others in the genre.

Hi baswood. While the translation I read felt a bit clunky at times, the humor did come through as well. It's a good summer read.

There's an interesting FT interview with Akunin (Grigory Chkhartishvili) which discusses his writing, politics, influences, and more. Worth a look.

A quick related update - the books are quite popular in Russia, to the point where there have been filmed versions of at least a few of them. The Winter Queen was made into a 4-part TV series and I just watched part 1. The book is still fresh in my mind, so it was pretty easy to follow the action even if I only understood a half dozen (non-sequential) words.

14. The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters (512 p.)

I've had this on my mental wishlist for quite some time, so when I came across it at the library, it was an easy choice.

On the surface, The Little Stranger is the story of a post WWII landed gentry family, the Ayres, living in Hundreds Hall in Warwickshire, England. A ghost story, a story of odd paranormal activity, as told by Dr Faraday, who becomes involved with the family and their affairs. Faraday himself had grown up in the area, though his parents struggled financially to provide his education and, he feels, they both died early as a result. One of his mother's jobs had been as a maid at Hundreds. Even though Faraday is now a village doctor, he still falls between - above his parents' station, but not feeling fully accepted by other more privileged doctors.

One day he has a call out at Hundreds, and this begins his developing friendship, and deeper involvements, with the family. The Ayres - mother, son Roderick, daughter Caroline - are struggling to keep the manor afloat. It is a shadow of its former self, rotting, crumbling, expensive to keep up. Odd things start to happen, and the consequences each time are long-reaching.

Times are changing for everyone - the war is over and notions of class and privilege are changing; old money is drying up, leaving houses like Hundreds to limp along; family manors are being sold off, to be bought by newer wealth who can afford them; the NHS is about to alter the medical profession. The Ayres, however, seem to be clinging to the past, to their role in the village. Roderick, injured during the war, is now increasingly crippled not just by the financial burdens of the house, but by the burdens of tradition, of expectations, of his role as squire and man of the house. Caroline, independent and 'plain', is stronger-willed. None of them seems able to let it all go, and they continue to be dragged down.

Hundreds Hall looms large and is as much a character as anyone else. It reacts to change, to new influences, it seems to hold within its walls all the family histories, the events of the past. Caroline at one point mentions that the house seems to know how to get at each of them - what they each need or feel. It hates them, but at the same time won't let them go: much as with growing feelings of love-hate resentment towards the gentry and aristocracy in the postwar era. Hundreds is eating away at them, and yet they can't let go.

Then there is the doctor. He befriends the family, becomes a frequent visitor. He, too, dwells in the memories of the past. And how reliable a narrator is he? On the one hand, he (usually) maintains a more analytical, rational approach to the events. He always has an explanation for what is happening, sometimes much to the frustration of others. But there is a growing sense, too, from the reader, that he might be insinuating himself into the family, drawn by the idea of being a part of the manor. How much of his judgment is clouded by his view of himself and his role there?

The Little Stranger builds slowly, with much of the tension lurking under the surface. Despite not much happening for some time, Waters develops her characters, lets the reader get to know them, to understand about the village, the way things were and the changes that are occurring now, so that when catalysts strike and the house reasserts itself, we are drawn in more fully, more readily to its haunting nature.

The Little Stranger sounds a very thoughtful well written novel.

Hmm. I have this in my library. I think I must move it up the pile.

>61 baswood: & 62: It's interesting, at least one critique I read of the The Little Stranger (after I'd put down my thoughts about it) was that it was somewhat thinner than other books by Waters. If that's the case, I'm really looking forward to reading more from her.

15. Living Souls by Dmitry Bykov (translation from Russian; 439 p.)

First, in all fairness, I started this book aaaaaages ago, read tiny chunks of it at a time, then forgot to bring it with me in the immediate move, then didn't find it in the shipment until a week or two after it arrived. In short, my memory of the first 175 pages or so is thin at best. Plus, I'll admit to wishing the book had a cast list; I kept having to straighten out Gromov and Gurov, Volokhov and Voronov, etc. in my mind. This wasn't helped by my sporadic approach at the start.

That said, once I did pick it up and really give it the attention it deserved, I really liked Bykov's mix of satire, near-future prophesy, humor, reality, even a bit of magic, and more. The story takes place in a near-future Russia, one that is embroiled in a seemingly never-ending civil war between two factions, the Khazars (primarily Jews) and Varangians (Aryans). A third group, known as Joes and considered stupid - in some cases treated like housepets - stay out of the war; they wander and travel in circles, but after several roundups, they are increasingly threatened with extinction. These natives have a magical relationship to each other and the earth - at times almost druid/pagan-like.

There are key pairs: the Governor and his native girlfriend; the homeless Joe and the teenage girl who adopts him; the poet-military officer and his lover; and another military commander and his partner. Each pairing is in some way forbidden, or at best unusual.

While the book takes place in the future, it is firmly rooted in the past and present. Similar to A Canticle for Leibowitz, there is a definite feeling of 'plus ça change...' The war is utterly futile and inane, but also inevitable. Even those leading the war, and those fighting in it, recognize how pointless it all is. There are those whose goal is to keep it all going, and those who just try to stay under the radar.

Circles and cycles are a recurring motif. Like the Joes, soldiers keep going around in circles: continually capturing and and losing the same strongholds; being commanded to rotate places with other squads of soldiers; wandering in the woods to give the appearance of being purposeful, when in fact they are just avoiding conflict.

Living Souls is a cautionary tale not just about the state of affairs in post-Soviet Russia, but about humanity and the tendencies of human nature.

A bit of a side note:

I've finally gotten around to listening to BBC 4 Radio's radio play of Neverwhere. I'd read the book a few years ago, and recently found out about and watched the decidedly low budget but fun 1996 BBC TV series which started it all, so was curious about the radio play.

James McAvoy plays Richard Mayhew. Mayhew saves a young woman he finds injured on the street. As a result, he soon finds himself caught, and caught up in, the dark, labyrinthine and tumultuous world of London Below - a London that is invisible to almost everyone in London Above.

It's a great cast, and the sound effects help bring the play to life. Author/creator Neil Gaiman himself does a few bit parts. If you've seen the TV series, the casting is very, very similar in terms of the types of actors for each part. Neverwhere's fantasy treatment of homelessness and poverty works well as a radio play, and is a timely recession piece that's also immensely dark and fun.

A couple of years ago, I listened to the audio book of Neverwhere narrated by Neil Gaiman. He is one of the authors who does a good job reading his books. I loved that one.

Hi NanaCC! I was surprised to learn that the book was based on the TV series Gaiman developed with comedian Lenny Henry. The cast for the BBC Radio 4 was too good to pass up!

16. The Invention of the Passport: Surveillance, Citizenship and the State by John Torpey (non-fiction, 224 p.)

I've settled into the summer and was ready to tackle a more academic non-fiction read. I've lived in a few places, so a book about passports and migration documentation seemed to fit the bill.

Torpey examines not just passports, but the general evolution of state-controlled oversight over the movement, both internal and external, of people. He starts with Revolution-era France, moves into the 19th century, then late 19th century into WWI, and finally interwar and postwar eras. He focuses primarily on Europe, especially France, Germany, and the UK (in various empire iterations); there is also some discussion involving North America, in particular related to Mexico-US movement.

The subtitle is a more accurate description of the content. He looks at how and why control of movement began to be centralized, heated debates held over whether there even *should* be required documentation (and which factions stood behind which arguments), and when travel documentation would be necessary. It was interesting to see many of the same justifications demanding greater or lesser centralized control that are made today: threats from outsiders; security issues; liberal demands to facilitate labor migration in, or, on the other side, demands to protect borders from heavy influxes of migrants; and more.

It was definitely an academic read, but a 'readable' one. It is a detailed treatment of the subject, though I was expecting more of a history of the passport than an examination of movement documentation (not just passports) and state control. It is also good to note that the book was published post-Schengen, but pre-9/11 & recession, yet as said the arguments made even during the French Revolution-era would sound relatively current today. An insightful read for someone who travels or moves around a lot and is interested in why we need the documents we do to do so.

That sounds like a very interesting read to me.

17. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll, Illustrated by Tove Jansson (112 p., children's lit)

I have long wanted to own my own Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, but was picky about the illustrations. It didn't have to be the classic, just interesting, bringing something to a work I already loved. Then a friend mentioned that the Tate had published one illustrationed by Tove Jansson, the Swedish-Finn illustrator most known for The Moomins (which, oddly, I've never actually read, but have loved the illustrations I've seen).

Jansson was originally commissioned to illustrate the Swedish publication of Alice in 1966. Tate Publishing then recently published this English language version with her illustrations, presumably as a tie-in to their Alice in Wonderland exhibit at Tate Liverpool in late 2011/early 2012.

The choice was a no-brainer for me. If anything, I only wish there had been more of her illustrations to bring alive additional scenes from the book. Her whimsy and quirky, slightly dark edge fit perfectly with Carroll's surreal story. Some are color, but there are mostly black line drawings, some of which parade across the tops of both pages as you read.

It also gave me an excuse to re-visit the book itself, which I haven't read since I was a kid. There was a lot which I hadn't remembered (or which had been overly-influenced by movie/TV versions over the years), so I quite enjoyed going back to the original. A nice break, a wonderful trip down memory lane, a bit of surreal nonsense, and all wonderfully illustrated.

Alice in Wonderland was one of those books I just wanted to have in my library - just to have it. Some books are like that. Your review makes me want to read it again right away. :)

Oh, I'll look for that edition. I don't need another Alice, but who cares what I need?

>71 avidmom:: Exactly!

>72 Nickelini:: I'm already afraid this was the first, as opposed to the definitive, Alice purchase. I'm glad to hear I wouldn't be alone.

For those interested: the site for the Tate exhibit (see especially the couple of articles linked from this page, "Curiouser and curiouser" and "When I use a word...it means just what I choose it to mean").

And here's their link to the book itself.

I've got to find a podcast of that BBC radio production, I adored the book.

I finished The Ocean at the End of the Lane in one sitting last night. It's a quick read at 150 pages or so and can be absolutely terrifying at times, but still fun , if that makes any sense, Sometimes I think I'd love to hang out in Gaiman's brain to see how his mind works. He never comes out and says it but I get the sense that this is a fairy tale in the original sense, with Sidhe , not tinkerbell, who have emigrated to our world bringing a bit of the old with them. I think you'd like it a lot.

Hi, Yolana - thank you so much for letting me know about The Ocean at the End of the Lane. It sounds right up my alley. I love the older

If you haven't seen the TV series of Neverwhere, it is cheesy, low (seriously low) budget fun. The DVD is available at Amazon. The recent radio production is harder to track down, but I think it can be found.

I listened to the audiobook of Neverwhere, read by the author. It was terrific.

Hi Nana - sorry for such a late hello. The more I experience Neverwhere, the more I enjoy it - I started watching the TV mini-series again and picked up things I'd missed earlier.

LJB - LOL That's OK, I see that I was repeating myself. And you did respond to the first one. I must have spaced on that post.

18. The Children's Book by A. S. Byatt (621 p.)

Knew nothing about it when I saw it at Oxfam, but thought it looked interesting.

Byatt's novel is, in a word, sweeping. She covers turn of the century England from about 1895-1919 (though also the 1880s-early 90s): art & theater, fairy tales & literature, sex and sexuality, family, class, politics (esp. anarchism and the Fabian Society), nationality, history, education, philosophy, and more. She weaves together historical people and events with the stories of a wide cast of characters.

Amongst the extensive list of characters, there are 4 primary families: two sets of Wellwoods (brothers, their wives and children), the Cains, and the Fludds. The central event bringing everyone together is when young Tom Wellwood (son of Humphry and Olive, a children's book writer) and Julian Cain (son of the widowed Major Prosper Cain, Special Keeper of Precious Metals at the South Kensington Museum) discover a boy about their age hiding in the museum. Philip has a dream: to make ceramic pots. His mother was a pot painter, and Philip wants more. The Cains and Wellwoods arrange for him to move in as a sort of apprentice with Benedict Fludd, a brilliant but mercurial potter who lives nearby.

As Violet, Olive's sister and primary caretaker of the household and children, says to Philip, "We have our beliefs... about what the world should be like. And some of us have experience - like yours - of what it shouldn't be."

Olive Wellwood's children's lives - primarily Tom's - play out not only in the novel, but in the individual stories Olive creates for each of them. She and Tom have an especially close relationship, and her story for him is, at times, his salvation; but it - and her use of it - is also, in many ways, ultimately his undoing.

While the novel is undoubtedly beautifully written and rich in detail, I was often frustrated by its lack of central focus. There are so many threads weaving in and out, it is overall hard to pin down. Given such a plentiful and varied set of characters, certain ones would take center stage, only to disappear completely into near oblivion until suddenly cropping up again. The historical information set the scene spanning years, then the story would go back and pick up.

That said, there is remarkable depth and breadth to the characters and setting, and the reader is, ultimately, invested in what happens to them - especially watching the children grow up and ultimately end up at WWI. That was where I realised how much I had learned about them and cared what happened to them.

Wonderful what you can pick up at Oxfam. Good review of The Children's book

Was it the beautiful cover that made you pick it up?

I found myself absolutely immersed in The Children's Book, even though there were times I would get impatient with the story, but mostly I couldn't tear myself away. Beautifully written and well developed characters as you say. I also found her portrayal of the class system in Edwardian England and the inexorable changes from the Victorian era excellent.

>baswood - thanks, and absolutely. I miss having Oxfam where I live now. That said, I'm using the libraries here more, so it's not all bad.

>Sassy - the cover definitely helped! I'd read Possession and really liked it, so that tipped me towards it.

For about the first 250-300 pages (yes, really!) I just kept thinking, 'It's good, but what's the point?' At some stage, though, I just went with it and ended up appreciating the historical segues and flowing style. I don't think it could have been anything but a British book - all those emotions bubbling and burning beneath the veneers of propriety and position. It's a book I'll probably appreciate even more over time.

I loved Possession, so this becomes a must for the wish list.

I'll be curious to see what you think.

19. Et puis, Paulette... by Barbara Constantine (288 p., French)

The first of my vacation acquisitions:

Ferdinand is a widower in his 60s. His son, daughter-in-law, and two grandsons (Lucien and Ludovic, or 'les Lulus') have recently moved out of his farmhouse to be closer to the restaurant they run in town. While he's always been quiet, a bit reticent, Ferdinand is suddenly very alone and the big house is very quiet.

Marceline is Ferdinand's neighbor, though they've rarely exchanged more than two words at a time. Ferdinand discovers Marceline in a shaky state, winter approaching, her roof leaking and in desperate need of repair. Les Lulus put the idea in Ferdinand's head to ask her to come stay at his farmhouse - just while the repairs are being done.

This is the first of several invitees to his home. Those who come to live in the house do so to serve some (often mutual) need - a home, companionship, work experience, stability, simply not being put into a retirement home. They form plans to share or take care of responsibilities, to meet expenses, to do chores. The permanent (or, in the case of les Lulus, frequent visitors) range in age from 6 to 96 years old, with every generation in between. Plus a whole host of animals (cats, dogs, even a clever mule). Et puis, Paulette.

The book is what it sounds like - sometimes kooky, sometimes bittersweet, sometimes poignant (the chapter where the younger Lulu wets his bed - what he was dreaming, his brother's reaction - tugs at the heartstrings), often gently humorous and touching. Underlying all this are more serious points or messages: that we all need each other; that it is never too late (or too early) to learn things; that there are long-reaching effects and benefits to taking the time to look around and help someone in need. It's a book that explores and lives the idea that it takes a village.

I had wanted a relatively easy, nice read, and this definitely fit the bill. It was a change from the apocalyptic, doom-and-gloom, darker and/or more cynical type book that I usually go for. While sometimes a touch saccharine and superficial, it was nice to read a book that treated all the generations with respect, even when gently ribbing its characters.

I like the sound of Et puis, Paulette..., and I liked your review. I don't know why, but it does seem like a very apt book for summer.

Thanks, Polaris. I agree, too, about its being a good summer choice. There was an obvious sweetness to the message of the book. It had a summer pace - easy-flowing and, well, just less hectic.

Sounds like a nice little commune. :) I think I'll check it out. I keep thinking about alternatives to homes for aging people. One of my favs is a group in Berkeley who pooled their resources and bought an apt. house and all have a blast together. Thanks for the review.

Oh heck. Sounds like I'll have to learn French or Italian first!

Hi MK. That's very much her message - it's mutually beneficial, not to mention much livelier, to pool resources (be they financial and/or skills) and build a contained community.

No idea if/when, but I found a calmann-levy 2012 rights catalogue source saying that MacLehose Press (World English) had bought the English rights. Maybe an English version ('And then came Paulette...') is forthcoming?

I'd be interested in an English edition.

20. The Rebel Sell: How the Counterculture Became Consumer Culture by Joseph Heath & Andrew Potter (non-fiction, 352 p.)

Buying eco food or clothing, getting a hybrid car, converting a warehouse loft apartment before the neighborhood starts converting other warehouses into condos - it may be hip or cool or pursuing some noble purpose, but it's all still consumption. The counterculture is still all about capitalist consumerism. We know that exclusive costs. Cool costs, too. And we're all fooling ourselves if we think otherwise.

The repeated message throughout the book is that it often boils down to a form of prisoner's dilemma and a rush to the bottom, a constant defensive one-upmanship, like an arms race leading towards mutually assured destruction. Lawyer A thinks that to look successful and as if she belongs in the group she needs a BMW, that all the other successful lawyers have BMWs. Once enough lawyers have BMWs, though, that's no longer exclusive enough - it doesn't distinguish you from the crowd of lawyers. Now it's a Lexus that's 'required' to set oneself and the perception of one's success apart. This keeps going. There isn't necessarily a real 'need' for these things, it's all just the equivalent of defensively ratting out your partner in the (naïve) hope he doesn't rat you out, too. But it would really all be better if you both kept your mouths shut, i.e., in the case of consumerism, not engage in the first place.

Not only that, but the whole idea that 'cool' or 'hip' is somehow sticking it to the man is essentially delusional. The authors provide examples from 'rebel' culture (hippies, punk, etc.) to show that it was just a different commodity, and one which those seeking to be different flock to in a misguided belief that it is somehow not 'buying into' capitalist consumerism. Being different, or part of a subculture, doesn't put us outside the capitalist clutches, it just means that group is targeted with a different set of products.

They look at a range of theories and influences including Rousseau, Hobbes, Freud, Veblen, pop culture, Naomi Klein's No Logo, Adbusters magazine, and many more.

The authors sometimes make broad generalizations; come to unsubstantiated conclusions; or draw some offhandedly really bizarre, borderline offensive, parallels (p.51, p.71). It is also very heavily focused on the US, and largely post-WWII. There are a few examples from Canada (where the authors are from) and Europe, but really they are putting the lens on the US.

At times the book is thought-provoking; at others its examples seem obvious, its conclusions fairly self-evident. It's an engaging read, but one that should be read with as much questioning and as critical an eye as they turn on their subject matter.

#92 - that one sounds very interesting.

Really enjoyed your review of The Rebel Sell. Depressing stuff, but as you say in your review all too self evident. It sometimes takes someone to point things out in print to make us think.

>93 Nickelini:, 94: It definitely was both interesting and depressing. They even dispel the notion that saving money avoids consumerism, because banks then play the role of consumer with your money. Their main off-the-grid example is the Unabomber. Even fetishizing the East, uniforms, and more come under the microscope.

That said, I don't think they fully fairly distinguish motivations (e.g., people don't just buy ecological food because they think it sets them apart from the crowd or makes them cool or it shows they have the money to do so - they may think there is a benefit to buying it that is worth the financial tradeoff. And if enough do, the increased demand could lead to increased supply and lower cost).

21. Le chapeau de Mitterrand by Antoine Laurain (French, 190 p.)

France, 1980s and François Mitterrand is president of the Republic. Resulting from a chain of events, Daniel Mercier finds himself in possession of Mitterrand's hat. From the moment he puts it on, he feels different. He acts differently, has more courage. His life changes. As the hat switches heads a few more times, it continues to affect the lives of each owner.

There are some 80s details and personalities (besides, of course, Mitterrand) which made the book fun to read. The 80s were a time of change, and Mitterrand knew how to make a mark, leave behind lasting legacies, and the story brings those to life both through the hat's effects and through the observations made by the characters.

The story has its charms. Even the brief section of an exchange of letters mid-way, which initially felt clunky, has its reason for being there. For those looking to brush up/keep up their French with a touch of nostalgia and history, this is a good option.

For those looking to brush up/keep up their French with a touch of nostalgia and history, this is a good option.
That sounds like an excellent idea, thanks for the suggestion.

Not sure about the ecologically sustainable food being outside of that consumerist picture. I've known several parents who make a huge deal over their child only eating certain organic foods to make it feel like the reasoning behind it is one of status. Of course, our own quirks aren't consumer driven, are they? My purchasing only organic milk, for example, is clearly because I don't want to drink all those antibiotics and hormones, but when other people do it, it's status driven. Clearly.

Some consumer movements are better for the world than others, though. I don't care why people buy ethically produced items, really. If it were a status symbol to only wear t-shirts produced in safe factories paying a living wage and committed to production methods that minimized the environmental impact, would the result be any less valuable?

#96 I'm always looking to upkeep my french. Thanks for the suggestion, looks like I'll have to read the mass market paperback as the trade paper is on the expensive side.

97, 99: It's a short and relatively quick read, plus it has some cultural flashbacks, so there are worse choices out there. Fair warning: the epilogue ending is lame.

98: Fully agreed. There are so many areas they touch on that it is hard to do them justice - and eco/environment is one of those. They give examples where even eco isn't necessarily the best option (actually, less about eco and more about locally-grown, small farming, etc). In short, the book makes for a lot of interesting discussion... :-)

You've added The Rebel Sell to my wish list.

Do let me know if you read it - I'm curious to see what others think and pick up from it.

22. Tre apor by Stephan Mendel-Enk (Swedish)

I was looking forward to this story about a recently Bar Mitzvah'd boy/young man's growing up in Gothenburg, Sweden. On the whole, though, it went from being episodic to feeling too disjointed. For such a slim work, it also felt like it dragged. There were moments, glimmers, where my interest was held, but those were fleeting. I was hoping Mendel-Enk's story would be more along the lines of Colson Whitehead's semi-autobiographical Sag Harbor, but it fell short. Disappointing.

23. The Gardener from Ochakov by Andrey Kurkov (320 p., translation from Russian)

My plan when visiting Glasgow recently was to pick up a book by a Glaswegian, or at least Scottish, author. Clearly that plan changed. (That said, funnily enough - and completely unbeknownst to me when I got the book - it turns out Kurkov was just recently at the 2013 Edinburgh International Book Festival. He presented with Andrew Crumey, author of Sputnik Caledonia which I had read in 2010. Their topic was 'Mining the Past to Survive the Present'). Enough asides and on to the book at hand...

Igor is a young man who lives with his mother (Elena Andreevna) in Irpen, Ukraine - outside of Kiev. One day their neighbor, Olga, recommends a gardener named Stepan. Elena agrees to take him on, and he comes to stay in the shed. Stepan, in his mid-to-late 50s, has a blurry tattoo his father inked on him when he was only 5. The two men's friendship (of sorts) begins when Igor is able to help decipher it.

Igor ends up with an old Soviet police uniform and an old pocket watch. When he dons the outfit, he finds himself in 1957 Ochakov (southern Ukraine). He keeps getting drawn back to Ochakov-of-the-past and the people there, who believe he is a Soviet policeman. He is soon embroiled in their lives and needs a way to extricate himself. Meanwhile, the present is getting interesting for him and others, too. Events move quickly.

This is an *incredibly* fast read, and overall a fun one. The story touches lightly on a few issues, but Kurkov never belabors the point, nor hammers you over the head with deep thought. Mainly, is there any truth to the tendency towards nostalgia for how great things were in the past? There is also an extended metaphor about gardeners and foresters - think a bit hunter/gatherer.

Interestingly, when I reflect on the book, another Scottish author keeps popping into mind: Christopher Brookmeyer. There are similar surface reflections on what deeper topics may exist; light, but still keen, observations on their respective local environments; page-turner reads with dark humor.

I'd happily pick up another Kurkov and may start to dig around for Death and the Penguin.

24. I Can Transform You by Maurice Broaddus (287 p. e-book, Early Reviewer)

After a dry spell with Early Reviewer books that met my criteria of a) sounding compelling and b) being available outside North America or even the UK, I was happy to get a copy of Maurice Broaddus's new works. The book consists of two pieces: the sci-fi novella 'I Can Transform You' and the steampunk short story 'Pimp My Airship'.

'I Can Transform You' is a blend of detective noir and buddy cop set in a near future post-apocalyptic US Midwest. Mac Peterson is the broken down former detective now working as a private investigator. He is brought in to investigate the deaths of a deep-undercover cop and a local gangbanger. He's teamed up with Ade Walters, the 6'7" detective with cybernetic implants.

'Pimp My Airship' looks at steampunk from very different perspective: African Americans in an early industrialised US. The American Civil War never happened; instead, slaves were released with the rise of the automata. Fans of Public Enemy may even find Civil Rights attorney Thomas “TNT” Todd's quote making an appearance in the story.

The two works, while very different in time and style, explore similar themes: corporate influence (in 'I Can Transform You', the US is composed of multinationals and the American Dream has been trademarked), race, and environment. I was afraid, similar to Grandville or Superpowers, that the themes would overtake the story. While definitely strong, he weaves them in well. They leave a lot to talk about - his nods to the present and past, his exploration of these ideas, what happens to his characters. Really interesting, and I will definitely look for more by him in the future.

Hmmmm might check.out Pimp My Airship!

Both works were interesting. I should have mentioned that the intro was good, too. It put the author and works in context - including that Pimp My Airship stemmed from a conversation and subsequent challenge.

It isn't much, but...

25. The Red Room by H. G. Wells (short story, e-book, 24 p.)

I'd downloaded it from Project Gutenberg ages ago, and suddenly found myself between books. As summer turns to autumn here, a bit of horror seemed in order. Wells successfully builds tension and fear in a very condensed space. Taut story perfect for a dark, cold night.

26. Death and the Penguin by Andrey Kurkov (228 p., translation from Russian)

(see also entry 104, review 23, above)

Bitingly, darkly funny book by Russian-born author Kurkov, who now lives in and writes about Ukraine. The main character Viktor writes short stories for a newspaper, but dreams of more. One day, he is approached by the editor to start writing obituaries, or, rather, 'obelisks'. He writes up text to be used, when appropriate, as obituaries for various Ukrainian dignitaries - high-ranking politicians, military, etc. He receives lists of people to write about, along with some key phrases to include. This way, the paper will have the obituaries ready to go when the time is right, and get an edge on the competition.

He enjoys the work until some of his subjects actually start dying, often under shady circumstances. Events begin to spiral from there.

Did I mention, he has a pet penguin, Misha? Not, of course, to be confused with Misha-non-penguin. Misha the penguin is wonderfully developed - without saying a word, he is full of personality. He becomes the focus of attention and admiration; he is the catalyst for new people's entering Viktor's life. He also has a way of getting Viktor out of a number of awkward situations (some of which, one could argue, he got Viktor into in the first place).

I've read that he fairly accurately sends up Ukrainian society. Unfortunately, I don't know enough to have a sense of how true that is. I can say that I again really enjoyed Kurkov's work and style. I mentioned in 104 above that his style reminds me of Christopher Brookmyre, and that holds again here. Beneath the dark humor and intrigue is a sharp critique of how Ukraine functions. Highly recommended.

Well, that sounds fascinating.

Indeed it was. And eminently readable.

Yep. Going on the list.

Hi MK - I'll be curious to see what others think!

27. Fragile Things by Neil Gaiman (400 p., anthology)

A mix of short stories and poems. Inevitably these kinds of collections are a mixed bag - in part because the quality can be uneven, in part because different stories & styles will appeal to different readers. Personally, I'm not a poem person, so most of those were a bit of a miss for me.

On the whole, though, I did like the book. Works run the gamut from campfire-style ghost or horror stories, to fantasy, to sci fi, to just slightly odd. Some are predictable, but still enjoyable. A couple really get under the skin. I also wished I remembered American Gods better, to have had a better idea how the story 'The Monarch of the Glen' would have fit in.

One thing Gaiman does well is to tell a story as if it were true - to the point where, like a good urban legend, one begins to wonder whether, or even begin to develop a sneaking suspicion that, there may be *some* underlying element of truth to it.

His introduction at the start can be kept until the end. It depends whether you want to know the background history to each of the works before or after you've read them. There's also a bonus story buried in there, so definitely shouldn't be skipped entirely.

I read this mostly while commuting, and that was perfect - a story or two on the way to or from work each day.

http://www.theguardian.com/books/2013/oct/15/neil-gaiman-future-libraries-readin...

http://www.latimes.com/books/jacketcopy/la-et-jc-neil-gaiman-neverwhere-removed-...

and did you see Gaiman's been in the news this week.

Thank you so much for both of those! Anyone defending libraries automatically goes up a few notches in my book.

Re: the banning article, having read, watched AND listened to Neverwhere, I especially love his line, "...anyone who buys it thinking they are in for lashings of Sex and Violence will be extremely disappointed."

28. Un Lun Dun by China Miéville (522 p., YA)

Why Un Lun Dun? I was in London on a business trip. I had some down time. I found myself (surprise, surprise) in a bookstore. I was in the mood for sci fi/fantasy. I thought something set in London(-ish) would be appropriate. I'd read Perdido Street Station and found it absorbing and/but quite intense. I'd read something somewhere about Un Lun Dun, Miéville's foray into children's/YA literature.

Zanna is the Schwazzy (say it with a British -ah, not American 'jazzy', accent and it becomes clearer). She and her friend end up in an alternate London, Un Lun Dun. As the prophesies have predicted, they are there to save it from the inevitable epic battle against the ever-growing, increasingly-powerful, increasingly-intelligent Smog.

Miéville works with some pretty standard tropes and conventions, but just manages to turn some on their heads, and overall make them into a whirlwind of activities, issues, action, and more. As an adult, I think some of the twists can be seen a mile away. As a young teen, they might be more surprising. Either way, that doesn't detract from a smart, strong female lead; a cast of charming and quirky characters; threatening bad guys; and intense, sometimes humorous, sometimes tinged with tragedy, trials and tribulations along the way.

I had two issues with the book. First, while I really liked his female lead, I was annoyed by the attempt to give her street-tough language ('She don't know', 'She don't remember', etc). More frustratingly, it was inconsistent, so when it would pop up, it was jarring. I found it distracting, detracting, and unnecessary. Second, he clearly borrows from others' territory. There is a lot of Neverwhere (while less about homelessness, it is very much an alternate London of the unseen, discarded, disused, dumped on) and Walter Moers (epic fantasy journey; different, creative worlds/neighborhoods and denizens encountered; clever, imaginative, often humorous word play), a dash of Alice down the rabbit hole, and wrapped up in a more youth-friendly new weird package.

This is by no means bad, and he does it quite well, but there are definite hints of reminiscence. He deals with environmental and humanitarian issues, but they are very much a part of an entertaining story, and don't bash you over the head preachily. Plus, as said, he does play with some of the conventions, which I appreciated.

One last impression: it felt like a book to be read aloud. I kept picturing a family with kids of different ages (but still just young enough to get away with having story nights), huddled up on a series of dark winter nights, taking turns reading it. I don't know if the audiobook version is good, but if done right I could really see it working well. Or being turned into a radio play. Or a fantastic stop-motion animation movie or episodic series. In short, it is a vivid, imaginative book that can draw in readers of different ages.

>115 ljbwell: I had tried to find an audio version of this book in August, when I was taking a car trip with a few of my grandchildren. Bragan had reviewed it, and I also thought it would make a great audio book. I was unsuccessful in finding one.

Nana - it is out there. It seems insanely pricey for an audiobook, but it is available at amazon, for example.

Funny side note - doing the search, it came up at amazon France. The category is 'livres anglais et étrangers'. Translation to English works on two levels, with 'étranger' being both foreign and strange. In short, it is the right category no matter what the interpretation. :-)

>117 ljbwell: Thank you for that explanation, LJB.

>115 ljbwell: Did you like the extreme librarians? My fave.

Glad you enjoyed Un Lun Dun. I did think, of course, of Neverwhere when I read Un Lun Dun back in 2007, and certainly Miéville would have read or watched the Gaiman, but having read lots of Miéville, I am more apt to think that Alice was more an inspiration here, than Gaiman (btw, Lisa Goldstein wrote Dark Cities Underground back in 2000 - also a story set underground in the subway system. Another good read).

I would enjoy listening to that on audio if, as you say, it was done well. btw, we hosted him at the store when Un Lun Dun was released, and he said he got a lot of enjoying making the usually docile giraffes into dangerous creatures.

I've always thought that Terry Gilliam is the only one who could really put together a movie from a Miéville book -- if he had an unlimited budget, of course. Imagine the CGI they would need! But, I suspect, the books generally are too complex for anyone to attempt.

>119 avaland: - avaland, I *loved* the extreme librarians. And the title of the sequel to Bartleby, the Scrivener. Good stuff.

I can see the Alice in it, as well. The only other I've read of his is Perdido Street Station. And thank you for the Goldstein reference - I'll have to keep an eye out for that.

29. The Call of Cthulhu and Other Weird Stories by H. P. Lovecraft (420 p., short story anthology)

Sheesh. A hand injury, a nasty and lingering cold, a ferry strike (which led to a much more crowded bus commute, which meant standing for the ride, which meant it was easier to listen to podcasts than to pull out a book) - in short, a bizarre series of events which meant I've read much less and not been on LT lately.

I took advantage of a long weekend to plow through and finish this collection of Lovecraft short stories. It was meant to be a Halloween-related read, but, well, here we are.

The introduction and notes are useful - though in some cases unveil the ending, which was a bit frustrating. That said, it was interesting to see how many stories came out of Lovecraft's dreams. Good argument for a dream journal.

It is easy to see Poe's influence on Lovecraft, and Lovecraft's influence on new weird writers like Miéville. I've also recently gotten sucked into the wonderful world of Welcome to Night Vale and can see nods to Lovecraft there, too.

The stories themselves often include the cult of Cthulhu* and the slow-build horror as the fishy, crabby, rubbery alien entities are revealed to the writer (most of the stories in the anthology are 1st person) and reader.

*There's an informative note that the word is intentionally unpronounceable, and then provides a rough guide to pronunciation based on Lovecraft's notes on the subject.

Hope you are heading for calmer water now ljbwell

Enjoyed your review of the H P Lovecraft stories

Hi bas, and thanks for the comment. Funny about 'calmer water'. I sometimes ferry to work and today the weather is quite windy and wet, so, well, on the one hand definitely yes, but in another, less figurative sense, maybe not. :-)

The year is coming quickly to a close and it is increasingly evident I won't make my modest goal of 40. Still and all...

30. Operation Sandalwood: ett dödligt uppdrag för Mr. Majestic by Zac O'Yeah (367 p., Swedish)

Tandooriälgen by the same author was the first grown-up book I read in Swedish. I came across O'Yeah's new book at the library and snapped it up. O'Yeah is apparently starting a new crime series set in Bangalore, with petty criminal Hari "Harry" Majestic as the detective. Hari, orphaned in a movie theatre, dreams of making it as a Bollywood actor. Instead, he is involved in a variety of semi-legal activities under a variety of aliases. One of his Internet business enterprises (i.e., scams) has led to a Swedish woman's coming to India and subsequently disappearing. Hari is then hired by her sister to find her. This leads him into a series of encounters with various underworld thugs. Hari constantly tries to balance his actions against his karma.

Similar to Tandooriälgen, there is a mix of humor (including a funny reference to Tandooriälgen), violence, and crime standards. It was fun to have Bangalore as the setting. O'Yeah has lived in India for years, and it is the setting or reference point for his fiction and non-fiction alike. Hari makes a charming lead and hopefully will develop as the intended series progresses. It may not be the most brilliant, but it scratches the itch when I want entertaining Swedish that isn't overly-deep or the stereotypical Nordic Noir.

31. The Diary of Edward the Hamster 1990-1990 by Miriam Elia & Ezra Elia (illustrated, 85p.)

After drooling over several of this year's NPR's best books of 2013, the one that ended up in the holiday haul was this diary, written by existentialist and rather morose Edward the hamster. Edward questions the meaning of life, he goes on a hunger strike, he rails against the wheel in his cage and the mazes created for him.

There is one weird quirk in the story, but I'm chalking it up to Edward's not having a human sense of time.

The book is darkly funny, and ultimately we the reader wonder what the point of it all is for any of us stuck in a cage - be it physical or metaphorical.

For a taste of the book, see this BBC video.

32. Dodger by Terry Pratchett (403 p., YA)

Dodger is a tosher - he trawls the sewers of Victorian London for coins, jewelry, and other treasures that have ended up amongst the muck and mire. He is clever, works the edges of the law with a wink and a smile, and ultimately has a code of right and wrong. When he comes across a couple thugs beating up a beautiful young woman, he comes to her rescue, only to find himself caught up in some international intrigue. Charles (Charlie) Dickens sees Dodger's potential, and the two work somewhat together to keep the young woman safe. Dodger meets other known figures, real and fictional - such as Disraeli and Sweeney Todd, and others less-known.

This one was a bit hit-and-miss for me, and I can't quite put my finger on why. On the one hand, Dodger is a charming and intelligent character. Pratchett includes several nods to Dickensian characters and the seamy underbelly of London that Dickens helped highlight in his time. But something about it took awhile to get going, to find its point. At times, it felt like Pratchett's pointing out something about the societal norms, or bringing in a clever reference, made the story a bit clunky. It's enjoyable, and probably good for kids who aren't ready for (or who might struggle with) Dickens' English, but who would enjoy reading about that time and its personages.

33. Country of the Blind by Christopher Brookmyre (380 p.)

The second of the Jack Parlabane crime series. Once again, Brookmyre delivers ascerbic, sardonic critiques of Scottish & British politics and society. Moments and lines in the book had me snorting with laughter.

In this one, Parlabane, an intrepid and pain-in-everyone's-a** journalist, realizes that the four men accused of the murder of a billionaire media mogul, his wife, and two guards is a coverup, and loose ends are quickly being tied up. Neatly and rather permanently.

Brookmyre pulls out the soapbox periodically, but often delivered with sharp wit, making it less histrionic.

Fun (and violent) as always.

That's that for 2013, and here's the new thread for 2014.