Book Reviews

Peripheral Vision starts out slowly. Ferguson's style tends to be more telling than showing, or perhaps it's simply more narrative than action. By chapter four I was confused. I didn't see any connection to the characters from one chapter to the next. I persevered, but it was slow going. Despite that, her characters became compelling to me. Although Sylvia is the main character, according to the back cover blurb, I found Iris and Ruby to be more compelling. The only thing that kept me reading was wondering how all these characters were connected. About two thirds of the way through there was a hint of connections. By this time the characters had also managed to become "real" to me and continuing was easy. By the time I finished this book I had to agree with the back blurb: "Peripheral Vision is a funny and clever novel about love and the lack of it; about motherhood, sight, and insight; and about the different ways we experience and transcend suffering."

One of the really great things about this novel is that I could not guess what was going to happen next. Nothing was predictable. At the same time, nothing that happened seemed wrong or forced. It all seemed natural. The story wrapped things up at the end, but not in a tidy little box. I like stories with a beginning, middle and end, but I don't like formulaic or 'pat' endings. I also don't care for stories that leave me wondering as much at the end as I did at the beginning. Peripheral Vision manages to find that middle ground.

I don't think the piano teacher was the main character of this story. She seemed a bit bland. There was nothing about her that made me either love or hate her. Will seems more the main character. Although I can see that it is because of Will that Claire changes, his and Trudy's, stories are much more interesting. Trudy is such a complete opposite to Claire, that I couldn't help wonder why Will was even slightly interested in Claire. There is also the issue of the Herrend rabbit mentioned in the first sentence of the story. That and the other items seem to have a great importance to Claire that never quite plays out. Lee doesn't forget about them, but the way she handles it seems a let down.

All of that is minor for enjoyment of the book, however. Although I've never been to Hong Kong, I got some sense of the city with this reading. The best parts of the book were Will's story set just prior to and during WWII. It is in telling this story that Lee's writing comes to life. This may be simply that Will and Trudy have more color than Claire. The book also provides a limited history lesson of Hong Kong during WWII as it tells Will's and Trudy's stories.

Over all, this was a pleasant and enjoyable book.

Stupid History is lots of fun tidbits of mislearned history, hoaxes and some odd, unknown facts. Evidently I had better teachers than Gregory assumes, because I knew quite a bit already and some of the misinformation was news to me. (I learned it right the first time.) It was fun to read, although, much as I like puns, having a pun at the end of every entry became a little much. It's probably better read in bits and pieces, rather than all at once.

The Shanghai Tunnel by Sharan Newman was a good mystery. While I was not quite as enthusiastic about the main character as the back cover indicated I would be, she was quite likable. With a suspension of disbelief (I have doubts that such a woman would actually have existed at that time), she was realistically drawn. Good, relaxing fiction. A one or two evening read.

Twilight is a surprisingly good story, despite weak writing. It kept me reading even though I was prepared to leave it unfinished. The characters are, for the most part, very good. It's definitely not literature. Meyer's writing leaves something to be desired, but if you ignore the writing quality, and accept the mythos, it's a fast paced and fun book to read. If you despise bad writing, no matter how good the story, stay away from this one.

It was curiosity that made me choose this book. FDR has always been a foggy historical figure in my mind. I couldn't have said more than that he was president and that he created the New Deal. I was delightfully surprised to find this an engrossing biography of a fascinating human being and the equally fascinating women in his life. He was so much more alive and vibrant than I realized.

I probably learned more about FDR's sex life than I cared to know, though it's no competition, in the writing, for a modern novel. Persico gives that information to help complete the portrait of the man. I appreciated that he would make statements to the effect of We can't know for certain what went on behind closed doors, when pointing out logical speculation.

The primary focus of the book is, as the title suggests, about FDR's affair with Lucy Rutherfurd. While I can't go so far as to condone his affairs, by the end of the book, I'm aware of enough to see FDR as human and to understand him better. Of all the women described in the book, I felt that Lucy perhaps was the most elusive, however. The perspective is more of how this love affair affected the life, marriage and politics of FDR.

The woman most clearly presented, not surprisingly, is Eleanor Roosevelt. I knew only a little more about her than about FDR, prior to reading this book. For the first time I see her as a woman, a human being, rather than just a social figure. Although I came to understand FDR, I felt most for Eleanor (which may or may not be simple gender identification). The tensions and problems in their marriage were as much her fault as his and any blame comes out so equally that, even though I feel most for her, I can't dislike Franklin, Lucy or any of the other women mentioned. His mother, who tried to be far too involved in his personal life, marriage and even politics (the one area in which she seemed to have the least direct impact) was easier to dislike, but even she was not totally unlikable.

This book left me with a desire to read more. I want to know more about Eleanor Roosevelt and more about the first half of the 20th century. I may or may not look specifically for books about FDR, but I certainly won't think "boring" the next time I see one.

Orpheus in the Bronx: Essays on Identity, Politics, and the Freedom of Poetry by Reginald Shepherd is undoubtedly one of the more difficult books I have ever read. Shepherd's thinking is a few levels above mine. He's definitely more academic than I. I still enjoyed it. Having an intellectual poet's viewpoint was enlightening, since I'm always looking for a better understanding of poetry.

His first chapter, "Portrait of the Artist," provides a perspective from which to comprehend his discourse. In the following chapters, Shepherd so conscientiously quotes and credits, that by the time I figured out what his point was, I had also learned a lot about what poetry is. (Also it gave me new ideas of my own about how to write poetry.) The section on readings was interesting and provided information about poetry, but since I have not yet read the poems/writings he's writing about, I have no thoughts of my own to compare with his. Shepherd did make me more interested in reading them, however, in particular those by Samuel R. Delaney, because I have read some of his other work. I think he saved the best for the end. There was a lot in his final chapter, "Why I write" -- things to make me think about poetry and about writing in general.

This isn't a book for the average reader. The very quotes and credits I found helpful by the time I understood, were also the stumbling blocks to easy reading. If you love explorations of poetry (in addition to poetry itself) and are at least somewhat intellectually inclined, it is worth the effort to read.

When I first read Danny Gospel by David Athey, I jumped right in and thoroughly enjoyed it. It was a ride of theme park proportions with something unexpected at every turn. Although I saw it as lighthearted and humorous, I knew there was something more to it.

On second reading I saw the dark side. The humor I saw on first reading became of the "if I don't laugh, I'll cry" variety. Danny is a lost individual. It's understandable. He lost most of his family and he lost his family farm. He even lost his real name in a sense, since he's still known as Danny Gospel because his family was a gospel singing group, although he no longer sings. There are other losses and the losses of 9/11, though not personal, are perhaps just too much for Danny.

Danny just wants a normal life and, probably without realizing it, he starts out on a journey to find it. He doesn't know where he is or where he's going and he didn't know what to do about it until, in October of 2001, an average, lovely woman appears in his bedroom and kisses him. He still doesn't really know what he should do, only that he has to do something.

Danny Gospel is written in first person, so we get Danny's slightly skewed view of things. There were points in this story when I wondered what was "real" and what was Danny's imagination. It's deftly written so that we are never quite sure. I found nothing in the book predictable, and yet it all makes sense and follows logically, taking into account Danny's state of mind. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book from beginning to end.

I'm not particularly fond of reading books that "everyone" is reading. Even as a child I'd look for something I'd never heard of before, rather than what was suggested. It was with some reluctance that I picked up A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose by Eckhart Tolle. I'm not sure why I did, especially since I'm not into new age stuff and that's what this seemed like.

I don't think Tolle is a great writer. The content was not hard for me to grasp, but I found the first couple of chapters annoyingly difficult to read. I persevered at this point only because I had promised my sister I'd keep up, for her, with Oprah's class on it. Ultimately, I'm glad I did keep reading. Tolle doesn't present anything through a religious belief, but I read with my Christian beliefs. There are things I don't agree with, perhaps don't quite understand, but I found that his basic premise of how we must be is in agreement with my faith. And I agree that it is powerful. Although I'm not sure of the terminology, because of my own connotations, I see the problem of ego as he presents it. By the time I got to the middle I had started to write notes and questions in the margins and the petty annoyances of his writing didn't bother me. (I think it's the amount of repetition, but I'm not really sure and I really don't think it matters. He's not a great writer, but he's decent enough. This book isn't about the writing. It's about the content.)

In the end Tolle says the book will either be gibberish or make profound sense to the reader. For me it was simple and profound, although not entirely new -- just presented differently. It's worth reading just to find out if it's gibberish or profound. If it turns out to be gibberish to you, take what you can from it and don't worry about the rest.