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Knowing how much I love the Little House series (I have read all nine books no less than 20 times throughout my life), my friend April told me about a book called The Wilder Life. It's written by Wendy McClure, another Laura Ingalls Wilder-obsessed fan who decides to visit all of the Laura Ingalls Wilder historical sites. Coincidentally, a couple of weeks ago I was lucky enough to win this book in a giveaway sponsored by Ponderings blog. Hooray and thank you!
I finished the book realizing that I'm not really much of a fan at all, compared to some people who have spent serious portions of their own lives researching Laura's life.
The first few chapters of the book were the funniest--my two favorite parts:
"There were a host of other things from the books that [as a child] I remember I wanted to do, too, such as: - Make candy by pouring syrup in the snow.
- Make bullets by pouring lead.
- Sew a seam with tiny and perfectly straight stitches.
- Have a man's hands span my corseted waist, which at the time didn't seem creepy at all."
My family totally didn't get why this was so funny and never will. Their loss.
The other part that made me snort with laughter was when Wendy met other Little House fans but then discovered that they were actually fans of the TV show, not the books.
"More than once, a friend or acquaintance has gushed, 'you mean you're a Little House fan too?' only to discover that we have two very different sets of memories. One of us is thinking of the time Laura taught a calf to drink from a bucket. The other is thinking about the Very Special Episode when some kid named Albert got hooked on morphine."
The rest of the book was interesting and amusing, but really, you have to know a lot about this series to appreciate most of the references to specific people and incidents that the author mentions. Which I do, and which I did. If you're a fan, I recommend it. If not, skip it.
Even though you may not recognize Kate DiCamillo's name, you've probably heard of her novel Because of Winn Dixie. It was turned into a pretty popular movie a while ago.
The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane tells the story of a child's beloved china rabbit, that becomes lost. Edward changes hands several times and experiences life through the eyes of each of the children who subsequently own him. I read this book out loud to my 8- and 12-year-olds and in a couple of parts, I found myself too choked up to continue. Max said, "But it's not even sad!" I said, "But it's just so moving," to which he rolled his eyes in (I must admit) an admirably teenage way.
I read a review of this book on Amazon and the reviewer suggested that DiCamillo be brought up on child abuse charges for some of the sad situations Edward finds himself in. And although I laughed at that highly exaggerated reaction, the book is sad at times, even a little toward the brutal side of sad. You might want to skim it before reading it to your kids but this novel is such a rare combination--for children, and beautifully written--that I highly recommend giving it a shot, even if you don't have children. And if you like it, be sure to check out her prior novel, Despereaux, which is great too.
When my friend April said she had a great book for me to read, I was excited. Would it be witty and wry? Tense and thrilling? Neither. It's the real-life story of crimes against women throughout the world, including honor killings and sexual trafficking.
Hmmmm....has Dave Barry written anything lately? But April was insistent so I gave it a go. It is truly a shock to realize that slavery still exists today, usually in the form of forced prostitution. The authors interviewed girls who were lured from their families with the promise of jobs in the big city, then forced into prostitution. In other parts of the world, women who speak out risk having acid thrown in their faces. I could go on and on (and the book does).
But the thing that makes me recommend this book to you, as April said, is the message of hope that pervades each chapter. The number one idea stressed over and over is that educating women will help stop violence against women. Educated women are more confident, and a society where women contribute is one where women wield some of the power. Women who are educated can help support their families, so their little sisters don't have to go looking for work. This brutality can be stopped, at the grassroots level, if we all pitch in, and the book outlines many specific ways we can help.
Rating: Life-changing. I so admire the way the authors were able to write about such tragedy and leave the reader with a sense of hope. I guess that's why they won the Pulitzer.
p.s. If you only support charities that Ashton believes in (doesn't that apply to most of us?), this is the one for you.
Steve Martin. What's not to like? He's funny and smart and looks ever so handsome in a tuxedo. I'm way behind the 8-ball here but just discovered his writing. I started with The Pleasure of My Company and then most recently, Shopgirl. I liked them both but Shopgirl was my favorite. I can't quite put my finger on why I love his writing style so much, but there's just a certain sweetness to the way he tells a story. Someone told me that his newest work, An Object of Beauty, is not sweet at all, but that's just another reason to love Steve--he's so diverse! And did I mention how good he looks in a tuxedo?
Rating: Recommended, especially for a vacation read. It's fewer than 200 pages long and easy to pick up, read a few pages, yell at kids for splashing the old man in the pool, and pick up again.
I am as big a David Sedaris fan as the next guy. When he's funny, he's hysterical but this book is nothing like his usual stuff. He normally writes essays about his experiences in ordinary situations-- Jesus Shaves is my all-time favorite. So I eagerly anticipated his latest offering, Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk: A Modest Bestiary. As soon as I could, I put my name on the waiting list at my local library. I was number 32. When my name finally came up, I forgot to pick it up. It was reshelved and I was charged $1 for being irresponsible. I put my name back on the hold list: 16, not bad. Again, my name came up and this time I rushed right down and picked it up.
I had heard nothing about this book: not a single synopsis nor review, so I was surprised that it was a collection of Aesop-type fables. This could be good, right? David Sedaris making animals say the "f" word is a guaranteed laugh riot. Except that it wasn't. The stories are told in such a disturbing manner--and before you tell me that I'm just too shallow--yes, I get the messages. You should not pretend to help people just so you can use them, yeah yeah yeah. But really, does the message of selfishness really need to end with a bird plucking out the eyes of a baby lamb?
I have reviewed this book without reading any other opinions, so I may get blasted if everyone loved it. I'm sticking by my review. It was an uncomfortable read.
Janet's rating: A rare "did not finish the book" because it was just that bad.
I am a big fan of the "foodie" book--loved Julia Child's My Life in France and anything by Ruth Reichl. And of course Anthony Bourdain, who's completely awesome because in his latest book Medium Raw he devotes an entire chapter to the people he loves and hates, and specifically why he loves and hates them. Who does that?
But I digress. Born Round is the story of a chubby boy born into a large Italian family who shows their love through food. He grows up struggling with his weight (at one point refusing his grandmother's fried fruit pies, which she interprets as him not loving her) and becomes a journalist. When he is offered the position of New York Times food critic, he is forced to come to terms with food, and the way he looks at it.
This is a great vacation read--intelligent and funny but easy to put down and pick back up. Frank Bruni is totally self-deprecating and brutally honest about his food issues. My favorite line in the story comes when a collegiate Frank embarks on a wilderness camping trip that includes a long, difficult hike. When he balks, the counselor says, "There are things you are glad to do, and things you are glad to have done." I now think this every time I hit the snooze button when I should be getting up to go to the gym. Damn you, Frank.
Also fascinating is how Frank is treated as a food critic, and the lengths some restaurants will go to a) identify the food critic, and b) try to get a good review from said food critic. An interesting look at the world of fine dining and how much those reviews mean to these places.
Janet's review (on a scale of blech to yay): a hearty nod yes with half a fist-pump.
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