The Crown by Nancy Bilyeau

Seeing as Pope Joan (Donna Woolfolk Cross) is one of my most favorite books ever, I had to jump on this one. There's just something about 16th Century England that is so appealing to me. Could it be all of those scandolous attempts to overthrow the monarch? Could it be all of the lying, cheating, backstabbing people who are treacherously evil to their own family and friends? How about all of those illicit affairs, arranged marriage proposals to secure the safety of a country, and the pomp and circumstance of the wealthy? Could it be the devout faith people had back then and the inner-conflicts they confronted in choosing to follow their faith or to follow what is humanly and morally correct? Could it be the lore and mystery of ancient, religious relics? Could it be the architecture and descriptions of the old monasteries and churches and priories and the customs and habits of the faithful? It's all the perfect recipe for chaos, religious and moral conflict, and suspense.

The Crown takes us through the tangled webs of the life of Joanna Stafford, a Dartford Priory novice who escapes her Dominican priory in attempt to somehow save her cousin, Margaret Bulmer, from being burned at the stakes. But both Joanna and her father are captured amidst their heroic efforts and are imprisoned in "The Tower." As a bargain for their release and safety, Bishop Gardiner, directs Joanna Stafford to return to Dartford Priory to find "the crown," an ancient relic hidden within the walls of the priory and believed to be worn by Jesus Christ. But re-entering the priory and re-assimiliating to its culture is not so easy. Joanna soon finds herself on a vast adventure encompassed by scandal, murder, and history.

This read was truly fascinating. I loved it! It's suspenseful, full of history, mystery, intrigue, suspense ~ everything an historical fiction novel about 16th Century England should be.

The Dry Grass of August by Anna Jean Mayhew

For someone who felt overwhelmed in her high school and college history classes (why did I have to memorize so many dates and the names of so many battles?), I just love to read historical fiction! It's fascinating to live life vicariously through characters from another place and time.

This one brought me to the segregated south in the 1950s. It sort of has that feeling of reading The Help ~ upper middle class white family, African American maid who works for said family, characters doing horrible and manipulative things to each other. But whereas The Help had a little humor thrown in for fun (I need not mention the chocolate pie, but how could I resist), this one does not. The Dry Grass of August is completely serious.

The writing style is also very interesting. The story is narrated by a 13-year old girl (Jubie) whose experiences parallel that of her 48-year old black maid (Mary) and slavery in general. At first you think you're reading a young adult novel, but then you begin to see why it's not; and then again you question why it isn't. And in the end you think: Does it really matter if the storytelling drives home the point intended ~ and that point being that strong link among Jubie and the other characters. I don't want to give any spoilers away, but I think readers will see that connection and symbolism with Jubie, her father, and slavery.

Did I like this one as much as The Help? Well, no. But I really felt that this book was successful in making a statement of its own.

The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides

As someone who majored in English and has taken courses in analytical theory and has deconstructed a text well beyond (I'm sure) the author's original intent and purpose, I was interested in this novel in a bookish, nerdy sort of way. Deconstructing any piece of literature is ambitious in its own right. But when an author manipulates a plot based on analytical theory and bounces back to literature in support of and in reference to that theory, it really sends your head spinning. Whoa. . .

This one definitely will not be for everyone. I'm still debating whether or not it was even for me. I love books; I love to read; and on occasion ~ not often but on occasion ~ I will revert back to my analytical theory training and think more deeply about a text.  My thinking on this text, however, did not involve theory ~ probably because it was so bluntly thrust into my face. Rather, my thinking involved the whole irony of the title and the actual content of the book.

The irony of The Marriage Plot is that it really didn't have a plot. The entire novel is built around character development with not much else happening. And once again, irony slaps me in the face with its characters. For a novel that spends so much time developing these characters, they are really not easy to relate to. I don't necessarily have to love a character to love the plot. Let's face it. There are some characters that we just love to hate. But I couldn't connect with a single one of these characters on any level. I can appreciate what Eugenides was trying to do here with analytical theory and weaving a "modern-day" romance around it; and I enjoyed reading the references to classic pieces of literature that I have read. But the novel left me searching for the plot. Maybe I should start thinking about all of those analytical theories that I studied in college. Perhaps that would allow me to connect more deeply with these characters and see the "plot" more clearly. And I guess the irony in reading this book and writing this blog post is that I am thinking more deeply about the novel and my approach to reading . . .

Mudbound by Hillary Jordan

It feels good to be back into the reading scene again! My normal routine of sitting in a cozy spot with a hot beverage and a good book had been taken over by nights of reading professional books, grading assessments, organizing a classroom and curriculum binders, and settling into the routines of the first weeks of school. It's been crazy! Oh, how I miss my books and having that free time to myself. But I love my job and wouldn't change it for the world. My students are wonderful! I just love them and know that it's going to be a great year for all of us! And now that we have all hit the ground running at a steady pace, I can get back into a normal routine for myself at home ~ mainly my passion for reading!

I picked up Hillary Jordan's Mudbound a while ago at Borders when they were having their going-out-of-business sales. My friend Pam had recommended it to me. Pam is awesome! She reads everything and always fills me in on the best books, and this was no exception. Mudbound is a fabulous, intense, emotional read. Only a few other books have ever brought me to tears, and this is now one of them.

Set in rural Mississippi during World War II, Mudbound is a shocking and honest look into the world of hate and racial discrimination. Told from the perspective of several narrators, both black and white, Jordan allows her readers to develop deep, personal, sympathetic connections with her some of her characters and a deep, emotional disgust for others. It's a tale of two families and how their lives have been torn apart from the same tragedy and their own unique way of dealing with the tragedy. What a great novel to get me back into routine! It just enveloped me and evoked so many emotions and is a true example of why I love literature.

13 Rue Therese by Elena Mauli Shapiro

I fell in love with this book before I even read the first word.  The black and white photograph on the front cover sparks an instant sense of mystery. There is something about her shabby, unkempt hair that makes me wonder ~ Who is this woman? and Why is her appearance shaggy and unkempt, or is this just the style of the time?

Colored photographs of artifacts, again, items telling of the time and history of the world, greet the reader every few pages and was the second thing about his novel that caught my eye.  These items are the personal affects of a woman named Louise Brunet, and they open the reader to a world of mystery and wonder about their initial owner.  Letters, postcards, photographs, gloves, pen holders made from German bullets are a few of the artificats whose own stories are pieced together revealing the life behind the mysterious woman on the front cover, Louise Brunet.

The Black Rose by Tananarive Due

"Which has made your life more difficult, Madam Walker?  Being Negro, or being a woman?"

"In my shoes, Mrs. Trask, it seems like only a white woman would even ask that question."

Sharp-tongued, witty characters always grab my attention, and I just loved this question and response from The Black Rose.  Madam C.J. Walker spent years learning how to speak eloquently and eventually built her confidence to stand up to people who felt entitled to kick her down.  And when she stands up for herself in the book, you can't help but jump out of your seat and cheer for her.

The Black Rose is the story of Sarah Breedlove's rise from poverty to wealth as Madam C.J. Walker, the first black, female millionaire. Although the novel is a work of fiction, it is infused with historical facts and the research of Alex Haley (author of Roots).  With little education but with a strong work ethic, Madam C.J. Walker became a business savvy entrepreneur who formulated and sold her own line of beauty products to which her sales allowed her to build her own factory and empire from the ground up.

Whether you are black, white, purple, green, female, or male, this novel is an affirmation of how far hard work, dedication, and the desire to succeed will take you in pursuing your own dreams. 

Peony in Love by Lisa See

It's never a good thing when my mom says, "Well, I have an idea for you."  It usually results in me baking 700 cookies for a family picnic or chauffeuring my 15-year-old sister around the State of CT or watching her high-maintenance (but very cute!) little dog while she and my father are living it up on vacation.  So when this was her response after my niece and nephew proclaimed their boredom in her presence while I happened to be watching them for a week, I pegged my niece and nephew on the arm, gave them a dirty look, and asked, "What are you two monkeys thinking?"  Haven't they learned how to play the game by now?  Talking to my mother requires a delicate balance between self-control and manipulation.  When done properly, we can bamboozle her into doing anything.  But as soon as she utters the words, "Well, I have an idea for you," you know you've lost the game.  Thanks to Bobby and Kayla's "boredom," we were now the ones being bamboozled.

So my mother's fine plan was that we go to the library, return her books, and come home with another pile for her to read.  Now, most of you are probably thinking, Well, that doesn't sound so bad.  But if you know anything about Bobby and Kayla, then you know that an outing in public with them is no small feat.  It becomes a test of my physical endurance, mental stability, and dignity.  While they are running around the children's room, jumping on the furniture, locking each other in the bathroom, and taking joy rides in the elevator, I'm burning red with embarrassment, stifling the foul language that is about to pour out of my mouth, and restraining myself from grabbing them by the neck and dragging them out of there ~ all the while I'm trying and failing to pretend to look calm and relaxed as I have students and their parents coming up to me and saying, "Hello, Ms. C.  Are you enjoying your summer so far?"

After about a half an hour of my own personal hell with these two crazy kids causing a raucous in the library, we finally left with my mother's new reads in my arms and the sound of the public cheering at our departure.

Peony in Love happened to be one of those books that I picked up for my mother between unlocking bathroom doors and chasing the elevator up several flights of stairs.  If something about a book is able to grab my attention while chaos is erupting around me, then it has to be good.  And, yes, it was good.  It is so rich in Chinese culture, particularly in regards to their views on death and the afterlife and their views on women's roles in society.  Chinese women in the late 17th Century had few liberties.  Marriages were arranged by their fathers who sold their daughters for a hefty price.  Women were treated as objects whose sole purpose was to produce male heirs and satisfy their husbands, including providing them with concubines.  Young girls' feet were broken and bound to make them appear dainty and delicate and to keep them from walking too far out of the confines of their homes.  They passed their time painting, embroidering, and serving their family.  However, some women broke out of this traditional mold and became published poets and authors, an extremely rare accomplishment for women at the time.  And some of these women purportedly died of "love sickness," a condition thought to be brought upon from the reading of a popular Chinese opera.  This book is told from a "ghostly" perspective of a female character who dies from love sickness, but she instantly wins your heart over and allows you to appreciate your own ties to your own family ~ even if it involves a bit of chaos and a slick idea.

Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks

Ahhhh!  School's out.  The weather is sunny, hot, and humid.  It's finally time to relax on the beach with a good book in one hand and a cold drink in the other while listening to the waves lap up against the shore; right?  WRONG!  I love summer, but this one has started off crazy.  Thankfully, however, the crazy is due to great circumstances rather than bad ones.

I finally got a permanent teaching placement!!  Woo-hoo!!  It's my dream job at my dream school working with colleagues and a principal whom I adore.  So as much as I thought it would break me (and sometimes it did), maybe schlepping through various school systems working as a pee-on for a couple years trying to get my foot in the door somewhere was worth it.  With the new job, of course, comes bigger responsibilities.  So I've been spending a lot of my time these two weeks filling out paperwork, ordering supplies for my new room, attending meetings, teaching summer school, and reading a ton of professional materials. Naturally, this has all left me with little time to read my own personal picks.  And I'm beginning to miss my reading routine.

My own personal picks these days have not been going smoothly, though.  I can't seem to find a book that holds my interest long enough.  Yes, I have a lot of excitement, stress, and adrenaline pumping through my body right now which does make it more difficult to focus.  But I'm also finding myself overly eager to discover that next great book that traps me between its pages and doesn't let me out until I've absorbed every last detail of its intrigue.  I've had to flip through three or four books before finally settling upon one.  And they all fall flat.

Because I loved Geraldine Brooks's People of the Book so much, I tried to read Year of Wonders.  It's the story of the plague that takes place in England during the late 1600s and follows the life of a village that is quarantined from the rest of the world until the plague has eventually run its course.  Some of the story is even based on actual people and events.  I love these types of books.  So I was ready to tear through this one.  But I found no suspense nor fascinating information about the time period or events to pull me into a sense of sympathy for this village and its people.  What I did find was its predictability and lackluster storytelling.  Unfortunately, it was an underwhelming read.  I think Geraldine Brooks is an amazing author and her attention to detail and research are evident in her writing.  I just did not care for this one, but it won't deter me from reading her others.

My Name is Mary Sutter by Robin Oliveira

Right after high school, I was a shift supervisor at a CVS in my hometown.  I had worked in retail beforehand and knew the challenges it would bring, especially in dealing with the diverse personalities and temperaments of the public.  To put it bluntly ~ sometimes people can be downright rude.  (Not all.  But some.)

I clearly remember an incident that occurred between myself and an elderly male customer.  An item he wanted to purchase rang up at regular price.  He thought it was on sale and wanted the sale price.  (Hasn't this happened to all of us?)  I had a female sales associate escort him back to the aisle to look at the sale sign; I had showed him a copy of the store ad; several female customers behind this man even got into the action.  We all tried to explain to this man that he had the wrong item.  He wouldn't listen to any of us.

After about seven minutes or so of this man arguing at me and foaming at the mouth (I swear!  I have witnesses!) and me trying desperately to keep my composure and act civilized, the man pointed at a male sales associate and said, "I want to talk to that boy over there."  "That boy over there" told this rabid man foaming at the mouth the same exact thing that I had explained to him, the same exact thing that the other female associate had explained to him, and the same exact thing that the two or three female customers behind him had explained to him.  Even though I was the manager on duty at the time, this male customer refused to listen to anything I had to say simply because I'm a woman.

In the grand scheme of things this little incident of discrimination didn't kill my day or define my life.  It was just that ~ a little incident, an aggravating annoyance, and a lesson learned in regards to other people's ignorance and intolerance.  Other than this small moment, I have been extremely fortunate in that my gender hasn't affected my ability to take advantage of certain opportunities in life.  (And if it has, I haven't noticed and it would be too late to care anyway.)  Mary Sutter, however, deals with a degree of gender discrimination much harsher than my own.

My Name is Mary Sutter is about a midwife who desperately wants to become a surgeon.  What's holding her back?  Well, in the 1860s with the Civil War raging, with emotions and tensions running high, and with discrimination in all forms at its peak no doctor is willing to take her on as a student because she is a woman.  Built upon this intriguing foundation, you jump into this novel geared up to fall in love with Mary Sutter as one of the deadliest wars in history is firing away in the background, setting the scene and mood of the novel.  You want to sympathize with her and root her on as she struggles to pursue her dreams.  She's the less attractive sister whose beautiful twin sweeps away and marries the man she loves; she's the responsible one with a smart and witty head on her shoulders; and no matter how hard she persists, someone is always knocking her down.  But. . .the writing is monotonous and slow and drags on through scenes that really do nothing for the story and just do not resonate with me as the reader.

Poor Mary Sutter.  She is a very likable character.  And if she were a real person, I'd love to sit with her and talk over tea or coffee.  I can relate to her as a woman, and I can relate to her as someone who has been occasionally knocked down while pursuing my own dreams.  Sadly, however, the writing style also knocks her down.

The Invisible Bridge by Julie Orringer

When it rains, it pours.  I don't consider myself to be a superstitious person by any means, but it seems a little too coincidental that everything came pouring down on me yesterday, Friday the 13th, after an already trying week.

Now that the school year is coming to a close, I have been frantically running around scheduling observation lessons and meetings, asking colleagues and supervisors for letters of recommendation, and revising and sending out my resume to the four school districts in the state that are actually hiring rather than laying off.  It has been a very long, discouraging and frustrating five-year process in trying to find a full-time classroom teaching position in a struggling economy.

We live in a society ~ or at least I grew up with the belief pounded into my head like a sledgehammer from two parents who did not receive a college education ~ that if we go to college and earn a degree we will find a well-paying job; and we will have better successes and more opportunities for advancement with our career.  I watched all of my friends do it.  They live in nice homes, drive beautiful cars, have health insurance, and a retirement plan.  They can afford to go out to dinner once a week or take a vacation (or two!) every year.  Certainly, this belief about a college education can't be a myth.

So when I returned to school later in life after finally figuring out exactly what it was that I wanted to be "when I grew up" and earned not just one, but two degrees, volunteered and participated in community service events and projects, and continue to this day to do everything I can to prove that I am not only a team player but also a leader while plunging myself into thousands of dollars worth of school debt, this whole idea of a college education has been one huge lie.

But I also grew up with the belief that if I quit, I'll never achieve my dream.  I am frustrated, discouraged, and extremely pissed off to put if frankly.  But I'm not willing to give up.

After a week of having my teaching skills observed, praised, constructively criticized; after having a human resources administrative assistant jump down my throat because she thought I was handing her too much information; after receiving rejection letters from 3 out of the 4 schools that are hiring; and after an extremely hectic, emotional, and expensive Friday the 13th with trips back and forth to the vet, another trip to an outside pet pharmacy for medication that our fine pet emergency hospital does not keep on hand to add to the shopping bag full of medications that the vet was able to supply me, and to the pet store to pick up a very specific brand of food for the special dietary needs that my very sick dog now requires, I am just a little bit worn out this week.

(I really needed to vent!)

Needless to say, I got very little reading done for the week.  I began Julie Orringer's The Invisible Bridge.  I'm only 100 pages into a 600 page novel.  The story line is moving very slowly, and I've had a lot of difficulty getting into it (probably because I've been under a tremendous amount of stress.  Do you think? Ha, ha!).  So hopefully things will calm down a bit this weekend and I'll be able to focus and re-armor myself with my "take charge attitude."

The 19th Wife by David Ebershoff

Polygamy, murder, scandal, religious and moral disputes, suspense, intrigue ~ what more can you ask for in a novel?  This one had it all and then some.

As someone who is New England born and bred and grounded in Italian roots, I am not familiar with the Mormon or Latter Day Saints (LDS) religions.  I'm sure if I dig far enough, I could find temples and churches in the area with people practicing these faiths; however, this is not something that is prevalent around here.  And as far as I know, neither is polygamy.  Polygamy, of course, is illegal here ~ so is drug use, homocide, theft, and the like.  But it doesn't mean that people refrain from these activities.  Such is the case in The 19th Wife. . .

Two parallel and connected stories comprise this novel ~ one set in the 19th Century, the other in the 21st.  Ebershoff takes us through the history and formation of the Mormon and LDS religions and beliefs by weaving Ann Eliza Young's biography (the purported 19th wife of Brigham Young) with that of modern-day fictional character Jordan Scott.  As Ann Eliza Young makes a daring and dangerous escape from the Mormon church and her marriage to Brigham Young in the late 1800s, she becomes a public activist against plural marriage.  She travels the country lecturing about the inequities and cruelties encompassing polygamy before mysteriously disappearing.  Intersecting her story, Jordan Scott is on a mission of his own ~ to find out why his mother, a 19th wife herself, is sitting in jail for the murder of his father.

The 19th Wife exudes an extremely distinct impression that Ebershoff is as dead-set against polygamy as his two protagonists.  The details he provides conjures such graphic pictures of the lifestyle of these women, their children, and their husbands.  The book alludes to this lifestyle as being wrought with injustice, brainwashing, and crime with its negative implications particularly imposed upon the wives and children.  Ann Eliza Young and Jordan Scott's experiences really put this practice into perspective and makes you think:  Just how practical is this belief?  and Can anyone really be happy this way?  Because this lifestyle and practice is so far removed from my own, I found it completely fascinating to explore its history through the eyes of a former plural wife and to see why women in particular would subject themselves to polygamy.

Thank you to Kerry McKibbins's recommendation for this book.  After reading her review of it on her Curly Girl blog, I had put it on my "To Read List."  I'm so glad I did because it was a real page turner!

People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks

I know that it's only the beginning of April, but People of the Book is by far the best book that I've read this year.  My list of Top 10 All-Time Favorites will now have to be a list of Top 11.

Library books, as we all know, get passed from hand to hand.  And on occassion (more often than I'd appreciate), I'll turn a page and some unexpected, unidentifiable substance will be staring back at me.  I would care not to know what most of these items are, but the obvious food stains, crumbs, water damage, coffee, and beach sand have made their presence known in many a library book.  These little pieces of evidence left behind by previous readers have sometimes caused me to wonder what they were eating or doing while this book was in their hands.  What caused this person to spill his or her coffee?  What beach is this sand from?  Were these Ritz crackers or Saltines?  And the question that usually leaves me cringing:  Is that what I think it is?

Of course, Geraldine Brooks doesn't answer any of my questions in her novel.  However, she does take us through the controversial existence of an extremely important and rare book in which particles of past lives have been left within its pages and bindings offering insight into its creators and owners.

As Hana Heath analyzes a rare, illuminated Hebrew codex known as the Sarajevo Haggadah, she finds an insect's wing, a wine stain, and a saltwater stain within its pages along with evidence that the book at one point contained a set of clasps.  Each of these items holds the story behind the existence of the Sarajevo Haggadah and the people who had possessed it dating as far back as 1480 on the coast of Spain.  This is a novel not just about war and the struggle for religious freedoms and acceptance, but it is a novel about survival, the risks we are willing to take to survive, and the interconnectivity of all people.

Had I not had such a busy week, I could have devoured this book in a single sitting.  Inspired by the true Sarajevo Haggadah, each historical flashback is written with such care to detail for its time, place, and characters that I wanted to believe that this was the true story behind this Hebrew codex.  The amount of research that had to have gone into this novel is astounding.  I read it with a true appreciation for the lives affected by these wars, circumstances, and outcomes.

Daniel by Henning Mankell

After having worked as a court stenographer for seven years, there are few things about peoples' actions and words that shock me anymore.  Saddly, my previous court reporting career has completely desensitized me to the degree to which people can be cruel, callous, manipulative, remorseless, and disgusting (to name only a few adjectives in my experience).  I am a bit jaded; however, it doesn't mean that I don't find many actions and words to be extremely disturbing.  That's exactly how I felt about Daniel by Henning Mankell.  The cruelty and lack of human respect depicted in this novel is something I have unfortunately witnessed before, but it still left me feeling troubled and uncomfortable.

The novel begins with a man, Hans Bengler, an egotistical, selfish, jerk with aspirations of notariety and fame fueling every one of his decisions.  He travels to Africa in 1877 in search of a rare, never-before-seen insect that he declares will be named after him and provide him with great fortune and popularity.  Bengler returns to his native Sweden with a bug in a jar and a black child on a harness.

Swedish history is a subject that I have never had an opportunity to study or research.  Therefore, I do not know how involved or uninvolved the country was with the African Slave Trade.  From the inferences I made through reading the text, my understanding is that Africans were rarely seen in this country during the 1800s.  For that reason, when Bengler brings this child home and names him "Daniel," they become a circus show of sorts.  Bengler's unique bug and rare human find are both put on display for public viewing. 

That's where the uncomfortable and troubling part of this novel comes into play with me.  The Prologue begins with the discovery of a murdered young girl.  Criminal acts, violence, and rape occur throughout the entirety of the novel ~ all of which are disturbing in their own right.  But what upset me most was the objectivity of this young boy, Daniel.  With the exception of actions by a few characters, Daniel is never afforded the luxury of human respect and kindness.  He is tied up and harnessed like a dog, and then he is put on display like one of Bengler's bugs to be scrutinized for his differences.  Daniel is a smart child who pursues his dream of walking on water so that he can cross the ocean on his own two feet and return to Africa.  He wants to be loved, but he doesn't know where to find it or how to accept it.

Despite my own uneasiness with Daniel's situation, I found myself enthralled with this novel.  The story is so intelligently written.  From the beginning to the end, it contains a series of logical yet disjointed events.  You never quite understand why these events are taking place or where they are leading you.  The entire novel takes place in 1877 - 1878, but then the short Epilogue suddenly brings you to 1995.  It is during this time, 118 year later, where all of those loose ends about Daniel's life and circumstances are seamlessly tied together with a completely unexpected and deserved respectability, an ending that made my own discomfort and Daniel's hardships worth bearing through.

The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje

Dinner is done; I've gone for my walk; the dogs have been fed and taken care of; and I'm decked out in my favorite comfy pajamas.  After another long and stressful week of administering the Connecticut Mastery Tests, all I want to do is sit down, relax, and finish my book before going to bed.  So as I settle into my favorite spot on the couch with my book in one hand and a cup of tea in another, conditions are perfect for wrapping up the ending to The English Patient.  Or are they really?

Things are never as they appear.

And why is that? you may ask.

Well, let me introduce you to the problem ~ or shall I say problems.


Meet Problem Number One, Roxie, or as I'd like to call her "Fuddrucker."  Fuddruckers is the name of a hamburger restaurant I had discovered while vacationing in Myrtle Beach, SC.  I thought the name was hillarious.  So I found ways to incorporate it into my every-day vernacular.  I originally adopted the term "fuddrucker" as a hillarious substitute in a bad-word-sort-of way, as in "What the Fuddrucker?"  But over the two years that fuddrucker has been a part of my daily language, its definition and usage has evolved above and beyond the queen mother of dirty words.  It's taken on a connotation that I'm sure Mr. Fuddrucker himself or the founders of the Fuddrucker Corporation (if either one exists) never intended.  For me, it has become a fun way to label Roxie as a big-time troublemaker.

Anyway, that brings me to the next troublemaker, Problem Number Two, Holly, or as I'd like to call her, Holly-hoo.  (Everyone has to have a nickname around here.  It's an unspoken rule).  Holly is 11 years old and is far too docile to be dubbed a fuddrucker; but when Roxie instigates trouble, the fuddrucker in Holly comes out.

Don't be fooled by the innocent veneer of Fuddrucker and Holly-hoo.  For the most part, they get along perfectly well.  It's only when I want to sit and relax and try to read that the Wild Fuddrucker Rumpus begins.  That's when they decide to argue for my undivided attention.  It starts with Roxie jumping on and pacing across my lap, crinkling the pages of my book, knocking the tea out of my hand, and barking hysterically at Holly.  Holly retaliates by barking back; but because she's old and and battling ailments common to her breed, she easily becomes winded and tired.  Her barking subsides, and she decides to invade Roxie's toy basket in an attempt to throw in another jab.  Roxie, of course, gets upset, barks louder, and jumps higher.  After about five minutes of them barking and me shouting, toys are now littered all over the floor; I'm dripping in tea; and somehow the couch pillows have grown legs and walked across the room.

Over the last two years, my Junie B. Jones bookmark, Page 34 of Wuthering Heights, and a William-Sonoma coffee cup have suffered as just a few of the casualties to this War of the Fuddruckers.  You'd think I'd learn my lesson by now and lock myself into another room.  But it starts off so seemingly innocent. . .

. . . as did The English Patient.  For a 300-page book with short chapters, I thought I'd rip through this one with ease.  But, oh, no.  This story bounces between time and place and from one character to the next, and sometimes I had difficulty deciphering who was who and exactly what was happening.  And it was particularly difficult to focus with two fuddruckers creating havoc.  The English Patient is actually a beautiful story, but one that I was only able to appreciate after giving it the intellectual muscle required.  The writing style does take a while to get used to, but it's written with rich details that entice you into a journey that takes place at the tail end of World War II between Italy and Cairo.  The characters are easily likable, even for all of their faults.  It's a book definitely worth reading, especially when you have a quiet place to sit, focus, and absorb its intricacies.

Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns

In my compulsive need for organization, my books and I have adopted this whacky tradition.  As soon as I get home from the library, I sit down on the bed or the couch and I line the books up in front of me.  I then look through each one of them with the precision of a crime scene investigator, paying closer attention to detail than I did during their selection process at the library.  I re-read and ponder over the summaries on the book jackets or back covers; read the first few pages or the first chapters; review the return dates for each one; and finally stack them on my desk in order of priority to read from first to last.  And since I've got this ritual down to a science, it doesn't take longer than an hour; and I can sleep easy knowing what to expect because it's all been planned out ahead of time.

Okay.  So I realize that this routine is a bit extreme to some (and hopefully there are others out there that share my desire for spotless oraganization and detailed planning.  I know my aunt certainly did).  But in a world and in a life full of chaos, choosing the next book I read is one of the few things I can control.  And given the fact that many people love books and love to read, maybe it's not such an odd ritual afterall.  Perhaps these books do more for me than I realize.  And then I got to thinking. . .

I remember watching a public announcement made by John F. Kennedy, Jr. in regards to his mother's death.  And I remember him stating that she had died "among her family and her books."  Honestly, I first thought the statement about the dying-among-her-books part was a bit odd.  But after a little thought, I suddenly understood what he was saying about the former first lady.  She must have loved to read, and she clearly enjoyed being surrounded by books.  Books brought Jacqueline Kennedy Onasis comfort even as she lay dying.  Her son's statement suddenly struck me as being exceptionally poignant.  I have come to realize that books bring me comfort, as well.  They're like old friends that you can rely upon.  And I like knowing that through this routine I have developed a relationship with a selection of titles piled on my desk waiting for me to read.

Coldy Sassy Tree happened to be one of the books at the bottom of my pile.  Not only did it have a later return date than the others, but it was something I just wasn't excited about (for reasons I can't explain).  But I was pleasantly surprised when I was immediately sucked into this turn-of-the century, Southern-fried delight.  It's the story of a 14-year old boy and his grandfather who recently lost his wife and remarried a woman half his age three weeks later ~ causing quite the scandal in the small southern town of Cold Sassy.  And the scandals keep on rolling throughout the book, stirring up gossiping neighbors and adolescent-like antics.  I adored the relationship between Will Tweedy and his grandfather; and I adored the traits of the other characters involved.  It was unfortunate that this little gem of a book didn't make it to the top of the heap.  But the important thing is that it did make it and that it provided me with a good dose of southern comfort.

Sarah's Key by Tatiana de Rosnay

I know I'm a little late arriving to this party, but I finally got around to reading Sarah's Key.  Part of my tardiness involves the unavailability of this book in our library; but the other part largely involves my state of mind.  A Holocaust novel will more than likely entail gruesome, graphic, and emotional issues.  I didn't think it would be fair to delve into a topic as great as this without the proper mental and emotional preparedness required.  As predicted, Sarah's Key not only includes difficult-to-imagine and heart-wrenching tragedies; but it also tackles the challenges of keeping a secret and the profound consequences generations endure once those secrets are revealed.

Sarah's experiences as a Holocaust survivor are revealed both through an omniscient narrator and that of Julia Jarmond, a character who finds herself indirectly linked to Sarah's past.  The novel begins in Paris, July 16, 1942.  Sarah and her parents become victims of the Vel' d'Hiv roundup, torn from their homes in the middle of the night by Parisian police officers, to be marched to their certain deaths.  Sarah hides and locks her brother Michel in a secret cupboard with the promise to return for him, keeping the key concealed and on her person throughout her entire ordeal.  It is the first of many of Sarah's secrets to which we become privy, secrets which ultimately make us readers question in what ways Sarah is a survivor.

Julia Jarmond also carries her own secrets.  A present-day American working in Paris as a journalist, Jarmond is asked to investigate the Vel' d'Hiv roundup for its 60th Anniversary Commemoration.  Through her investigation, she not only discovers a piece of history that few Parisians remember or even know about but she also learns of Sarah's personal story and uncovers pieces of Sarah's mysterious past, a past to which Jarmond finds herself associated.  Conflicted with whether or not to reveal these secrets, Jarmond makes difficult choices.  The decisions she makes and the secrets she reveals profoundly affect her personal life and the lives touched by Sarah.

Sarah's Key is a beautiful novel and brings to life a piece of history to which I had not been aware.  I enjoyed the theme of secrecy.  Characters are not the only elements of the novel hiding valuable pieces of their past.  The omniscent narrator has a secret of its own.  Readers do not learn of Sarah's name until the halfway point in the book.  Through her fluent prose and thematic structure, Tatiana de Rosnay led me to think about the motives of people who choose to lock away certain aspects of their lives.  Do we really want or need to know about a person's past?  How will peoples' lives be changed when secrets are revealed?  and How much of a ripple effect will those revelations create?

Other great books to note regarding the Holocaust and World War II:

     *  The Reader by Bernhard Schlink (one of my Top 10 favorite)
     *  Skeletons at the Feast by Chris Bohjalian
     *  The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows

The Yellow House by Patricia Falvey

As readers we develop relationships with the characters that we encounter in novels.  We love some; we hate others; and then there are the ones that we love to hate.  It is an author's duty to persuade their readers to become personally invested in their characters lives and circumstances because if we as readers don't connect to the characters on some level, the story falls apart.  We end up not caring about the events or the outcome, and we abandon the book all together.  Why invest time in a novel in which an author doesn't care to create plausible and/or fantastic characters in which we can love, hate, admire, admonish, and fantasize?  We want to empathize and sympathize with them.  Our hearts should break when a character hits a low.  Our hearts should soar when they hit a high.  And at other times, we should feel the urge to want to grab that character by the shoulders, give him or her a good shake, and shout, "What the hell were you thinking!!?"

Eileen O'Neill is that character for me, the one I want to grab by the shoulders and lay into.  We meet this outspoken, brash, self-confident Irish mill worker in Patricia Falvey's debut novel The Yellow House.  Set during a period of political and religious strife in early 1900s Ireland, Falvey creates a protagonist to admire, to scrutinize, and to love.

When O'Neill's family and home is torn apart through tragedy, she vows to reunite the remaining members and reclaim her beloved childhood home, The Yellow House.  She earns a living by working in a spinning mill in hopes to save enough money to accomplish her goals.  However, the choices she makes don't always comply with an honest living.  As she spins fibers in the mill, she becomes entangled in her own knot of difficult and tragic circumstances.  Eileen O'Neill's determined, self-righteous, and sometimes even shy personality allow her to fall in love with two men, both of whom are politically charged in support of opposing views.  Her relationships with these men affect her ability to mend the broken pieces of her family and home.  O'Neill makes tough and often politically, socially, and religiously unfavorable decisions in which she unapologetically speaks her mind.

The Yellow House is a wonderful piece of historical fiction.  Although some of the "surprise" outcomes are predictable, I enjoyed it nonetheless.  I learned about a piece of Ireland's history in which I had not been aware.  I also developed that all-important relationship with the novel's characters.  I did not always agree with Eileen O'Neill's words and actions.  I did feel the urge to shout out to her, "What were you thinking?  Why would you ever say such a thing?"   But I connected with this character and admired her resolve and determination.  Bravo!