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135: The Interestings

Rating:  ☆☆☆☆1/2

Recommended by:

Author:   Meg Wolitzer

Genre:  Fiction

468 pages, published April 9, 2013

Reading Format:  Audio Book

 

Summary

During the summer of Nixon’s resignation, six teenagers at a summer camp for the arts meet, become bonded as friends and dub themselves “the Interestings,” based on their self assessment that they are all the most interesting people.  The bond remains strong for several of this group as we follow their lives from angsty teenage years to middle age.  The kind of creativity that is rewarded at age fifteen is not always enough to make a life during your twenties, thirties and especially beyond that.  Jules Jacobson, an aspiring comic actress, eventually resigns herself to a more practical occupation and lifestyle as a therapist.  Her friend Jonah, a gifted musician and son of a famous folk singer, stops playing the guitar after a childhood betrayal and becomes a design engineer.  Ethan and Ash, Jules’s now-married best friends, become incredibly successful—true to their initial artistic dreams, with the wealth and access that allow those dreams to keep expanding.  How their success plays out among their friends makes this book interesting.

 

Quotes

“But, she knew, you didn’t have to marry your soulmate, and you didn’t even have to marry an Interesting. You didn’t always need to be the dazzler, the firecracker, the one who cracked everyone up, or made everyone want to sleep with you, or be the one who wrote and starred in the play that got the standing ovation. You could cease to be obsessed with the idea of being interesting.”

 

“People could not get enough of what they had lost, even if they no longer wanted it.”

 

“Part of the beauty of love was that you didn’t need to explain it to anyone else. You could refuse to explain. With love, apparently you didn’t necessarily feel the need to explain anything at all.”

 

“She recognized that that is how friendships begin: one person reveals a moment of strangeness, and the other person decides just to listen and not exploit it.”

 

“But clearly life took people and shook them around until finally they were unrecognizable even to those who had once known them well. Still, there was power in once having known someone.”

 

“Ordinary father-daughter love had a charge to it that generally was both permitted and indulged. There was just something so beautiful about the big father complementing the tiny girl. Bigness and tininess together at last – yet the bigness would never hurt the tininess! It respected it. In a world in which big always crushes tiny, you wanted to cry at the beauty of big being kind of and worshipful of and being humbled by tiny. You couldn’t help but think of your own father as you saw your little girl with hers.”

 

“And specialness – everyone wants it. But Jesus, is it the most essential thing there is? Most people aren’t talented. So what are they supposed to do – kill themselves?”

 

“We are all here, on this earth for only one go around. And everyone thinks their purpose is to just find their passion. But perhaps our purpose is to find what other people need.”

 

“Because the truth is, the world will probably whittle your daughter down. But a mother never should.”

 

“The child who was happy with herself meant the parents had won the jackpot.”

 

“Dennis was present, still present, and this, she thought as she stayed landed against him, was no small talent.”

 

“But this post-college world felt different from everything that had come before it; art was still central, but now everyone had to think about making a living too, and they did so with a kind of scorn for money except as it allowed them to live the way they wanted to live.”

 

“After a certain age, you felt a need not to be alone. It grew stronger, like a radio frequency, until finally it was so powerful that you were forced to do something about it.”

 

“If someone said ‘diametrically,’ could ‘opposed’ be far behind?”

 

“Everyone simply had to wait patiently in order to lose the people they loved one by one, all the while acting as if they weren’t waiting for that at all.”

 

“Jealousy was essentially “I want what you have,” while envy was “I want what you have, but I also want to take it away so you can’t have it.”

 

“When do I stop? When I’m twenty-five? Thirty? Thirty-five? Forty? Or right this minute? Nobody tell s you how long you should keep doing something before you give up forever.”

 

“The only option for a creative person was constant motion—a lifetime of busy whirligigging in a generally forward direction, until you couldn’t do it any longer.”

 

“You sometimes heard about the marginally talented wives of powerful men publishing children’s books or designing handbags or, most commonly, becoming photographers. There might even be a show of the wife’s work in a well-known but slightly off gallery. Everyone would come see it, and they would treat the wife with unctuous respect. Her photographs of celebrities without makeup, and seascapes, and street people, would be enormous, as though size and great equipment could make up for whatever else was missing.”

 

“The love between a brother and sister just over a year apart in age held fast. It wasn’t twinship, and it wasn’t romance, but it was more like a passionate loyalty to a dying brand.”

 

My Take

I thoroughly enjoyed listening to The Interestings and at the end felt like I had spent quality time inside the lives of the four main characters whose lives intersect and develop in a changing New York City.  The Interestings explores the meaning of talent, the nature of envy, the roles of class, art, money, and power; and how all of it can impact a friendship and a life.

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134. His Bloody Project

Rating:  ☆☆☆☆

Recommended by:   

Author:   Graeme Macrae Burnet

Genre:  Fiction, Crime

280 pages, published November 5, 2015

Reading Format:  E-Book on Overdrive

 

Summary

A brutal triple murder in a remote Scottish farming community in 1869 leads to the arrest of seventeen-year-old Roderick “Roddy” Macrae.  While there is no question that Macrae committed this terrible crime, the authorities are puzzled as to why such a shy and intelligent boy would go down this bloody path?  Presented as a collection of documents discovered by the author, His Bloody Project opens with a series of police statements taken from the villagers of Culdie, Rossshire. They offer conflicting impressions of the accused; one interviewee recalls Macrae as a gentle and quiet child, while another details him as evil and wicked.  Among the papers is Roddy’s own memoirs, where he outlines the series of events leading up to the murder in eloquent and affectless prose.  The book also contains medical reports, psychological evaluations, a courtroom transcript from the trial, and other documents that throw both Macrae’s motive and his sanity into question.

 

Quotes

“One man can no more see into the mind of another than he can see inside a stone…”

 

“These unfortunates are distinguished by the prevalence of malicious feelings, which often arise at the most trivial provocation. They see enmity where none exists and indulge themselves in great fantasies of revenge and mischief; fantasies which they are then powerless to resist acting upon.”

 

My Take

I decided to read His Bloody Project after seeing that it was a Man Booker Prize Nominee in 2016.  The format of the book as a collection of documents surrounding a triple murder, investigation and trial in 17th Century Scotland made for a fascinating read, especially as it revealed details of the different social classes of the time.  After finishing it, I still had some questions about what exactly happened, but I think that is the point of the book.  Life is often messy and incomprehensible.  Although we would like to put people and events into neat little boxes, it is sometimes impossible to do that and we have to live with the ambiguity.

 

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129. Moonglow

Rating:  ☆☆1/2

Recommended by:   Nancy Sissom

Author:   Michael Chabon

Genre:  Historical Fiction, Fiction

430 pages, published November 22, 2016

Reading Format:  Audio Book

 

Summary

In 1989, after the publication of his first novel, writer Michael Chabon traveled to his mother’s home in Oakland, California to visit his terminally ill grandfather.  Chabon’s grandfather shared recollections and told stories the younger man had never heard before, uncovering bits and pieces of a history long buried and forgotten.  That week of revelations is the foundation for the semi-autobiographical novel Moonglow which explores the lasting impact of keeping of secrets and telling lies.

 

Quotes

Was it even possible to forgive the dead? Was forgiveness an emotion, or a transaction that required a partner? I had made a promise to someone who would never see it kept. I wanted to respect my grandfather’s wish, and it would have been no trouble to evade my mother’s question. Keeping secrets was the family business. But it was a business, it seemed to me, that none of us had ever profited from.”

 

“I remember my mother telling me, when she was in the midst of settling my grandfather’s estate, that fifty percent of a person’s medical expenses are incurred in the last six months of life. My grandfather’s history of himself was distributed even more disproportionately: Ninety percent of everything he ever told me about his life, I heard during its final ten days.”

 

“She was always threatening rain; he had been born with an umbrella in his hand.”

 

“My grandparents forgave each other with the pragmatism of lovers in a plummeting airplane.”

 

“The rocket was beautiful. In conception it had been shaped by an artist to break a chain that had bound the human race ever since we first gained consciousness of earth’s gravity and all it’s analogs in suffering, failure and pain. It was at once a prayer sent heavenward and the answer to that prayer: Bear me away from this awful place.”

 

“The very triteness of it seemed to ensure its likelihood.”

 

“They wring their hands, should I do this, should I do that. They get seventeen different opinions. Then they do what they planned to do all along. If you give advice, they only blame you when it turns out bad.”

 

“He was tired of shouldering the weight of other people’s bad decisions along with his own.”

 

“When at last his moment came, he rose and stood, the only mourner at his end of the room, a solitary tower imprisoning an anonymous sorrow. First he wished for a Redeemer whose arrival he did not expect and a redemption he knew to be impossible. Then he told God all the nice things God seemed to need to hear about Himself. Finally, he wished for peace as it was conventionally understood, which he supposed was unobjectionable if no more likely than the coming of a messiah. At any rate, as Uncle Ray once explained to him, if you examined the language, the concluding lines of the kaddish might have been interpreted as a wish that God and everyone else would just, for once, leave the speaker and all his fellow Jews alone.”

 

“Smoke had left the eye sockets of houses with black eyebrows of astonishment.”

 

“One night the month before, back on the other side of the Belgian border, Aughenbaugh had delivered a lecture on the etymology of the word war. He said that he had looked it up and it came from an ancient Indo-European root signifying confusion. That was a foxhole night, bitter cold. The 5th Panzer Army was making its last great push west. You had to hand it to those Indo-Europeans, my grandfather thought, rolling through Vellinghausen. Confusion shown on the faces of the townspeople. War confused civilians every bit as surely as it did the armies who got lost in its fogs. It confounded conquest with liberation, anger with heartache, hunger with gratitude, hatred with awe. The 53rd Combat Engineers looked pretty confused, too. They were milling around at the edge of town, contemplating the long stretch of road between and beautiful downtown Berlin, trying to figure out if they ought to mine it or clear it of mines.”

 

“She was a vessel built to hold the pain of her history, but it had cracked her, and radiant darkness leaked out through the crack.”

 

“I reflected that it seemed to be in the nature of human beings to spend the first part of their lives mocking the cliches and conventions of their elders and the final part mocking the cliches and conventions of the young.”

My Take

While Moonglow is receiving a lot of critical acclaim (including a National Book Critics Circle Award Nomination for Fiction), I found it to be an uneven book.  Although certain sections and characters were interesting and held my attention, other parts of the book felt like a slog.  This was disappointing since I had really enjoyed reading Chabon’s 2001 book The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay.  In contrast, by the time I finished Moonglow, I was glad to be done so that I could move onto a new book.

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126. Commonwealth

Rating:  ☆☆☆☆

Recommended by:   

Author:   Ann Patchett

Genre:  Fiction

322 pages, published September 13, 2016

Reading Format:  Audio Book

 

Summary

Commonwealth opens on a Sunday afternoon in Southern California at the christening party for Franny Keating.  Bert Cousins shows up uninvited, kisses Franny’s mother Beverly and setting into motion the termination of his and Beverly’s marriages and the joining of two families.  From there, the book skips around time wise as we watch the six children grow up and see the four parents deal with their new lives.  When, in her twenties, Franny begins an affair with the legendary author Leon Posen and tells him about her family, the story of her siblings is no longer hers to control. Their childhood becomes the basis for his wildly successful book, ultimately forcing them to come to terms with their losses, their guilt, and the deeply loyal connection they feel for one another.

 

Quotes

“Did you ever want to be a writer?” “No,” she said, and she would have told him. “I only wanted to be a reader.”

 

“Life, Teresa knew by now, was a series of losses. It was other things too, better things, but the losses were as solid and dependable as the earth itself.”

 

“He is fifteen and ten and five. He is an instant. He is flying back to her. He is hers again. She feels the weight of him in her chest as he comes into her arms. He is her son, her beloved child, and she takes him back.”

 

“Half the things in this life I wish I could remember and the other half I wish I could forget.”

 

“When Teresa was told that she had lost summers, she made a point to curse and weep, but she wondered silently if she hadn’t just been handed the divorce equivalent of a Caribbean vacation.”

 

“Field after field after field, and not an inch of space wasted on something as decorative and meaningless as a tree.”

 

“You could see just a trace of the daughter there, the way she held her shoulders back, the length of her neck. It was a crime what time did to women.”

 

“Lelia gave a dharma talk about letting go of self-definition: I can’t do this because of what happened to me in my childhood; I can’t do that because I am very shy; I could never go there because I’m afraid of clowns or mushrooms or polar bears. The group gave a gentle, collective laugh of self-recognition. Teresa found the talk helpful, as she had been having an extended interior dialogue during meditation about how septuagenarians from Torrance were fundamentally unsuited for Buddhism.”

My Take

Ann Patchett, a very fine writer, has some interesting things to say in her latest novel Commonwealth.  As a child whose parents divorced when I was five and who are each on their third marriage, I could very much relate to the splitting up and re-combining of families and all of the issues, problems and emotions that are created as a result.  Divorce is a very big deal to the lives of the children affected and it should not be done unless absolutely necessary.  Patchett captures the angst and tribulations of children of divorce in a unique voice that really resonated with me.  Patchett also has an insightful and humorous take on the expectations of upper class hangers on when they invade one of the character’s summer beach house. I definitely recommend this book.

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123. The Financial Lives of the Poets

Rating:  ☆☆☆1/2

Recommended by:   

Author:   Jess Walter

Genre:  Fiction, Satire, Humor

304 pages, published September 22, 2009

Reading Format:  Book

 

Summary

The Financial Lives of the Poets tells the story of Matt Prior, who gave up his business journalist job to start a blog called Poetfolio which conveyed financial news in the form of poems.  Needless to say, Poetfolio didn’t work out all that well and Matt is in danger of  losing everything else in his life, his wife, his house, his children until he discovers a way to save it all that seems too good to be true.  

 

Quotes

“But it’s not easy, realizing how we fucked it all up. And that turns out to be the hardest thing to live with, not the regret or the fear, but the realization that the edge is so close to where we live.”

 

“Among the world’s evils—fascism, ethnic cleansing, environmental degradation—smoking deserves the most severe curricular attention in my kids’ school.”

 

“I don’t know what I expected – no maybe I do, Al Pacino from Scarface- but this drug dealer is more like Al Pacino at the beginning of The Godfather reasonably bemused, untouched by his

criminal world, sitting with Diane Keaton whispering about Luca Brazzi, not yet asleep with the fishes, or like Al Pacino from Glengarry Glen Ross, although actually, now that I think about it, he’s not like Al Pacino at all but more like Kevin Spacey from that film, and who’s ever been afraid of Kevin Spacey?”

 

“my money guy Richard is going without a tie now, like a politician who wants to appeal to the suffering common man (or perhaps every morning his firm takes the ties and shoelaces away from the brokers and financial planners to keep them from offing themselves)”

 

“Listen,” Richard says, „unless you’re about to inherit some money, what we’re talking about here is irreversible, fatal. You have fiscal Ebola, Matt. You are bleeding out through your nose and your mouth and your eye sockets, from your financial asshole.”

See! Fiscal Ebola? My financial asshole is bleeding? This was exactly why I started poetfolio.com; there are money poets everywhere.”

 

“So I make one phone call, and just like that, we’re eating pizza at 6:30. What is this world? You tap seven abstract figures onto a piece of plastic thin as a billfold, hold that plastic device to your head, use your lungs and vocal cords to indicate more abstractions, and in thirty minutes, a guy pulls up in a 2,000-pound machine made on an island on the other side of the world, fueled by viscous liquid made from the rotting corpses of dead organisms pulled from the desert on yet another side of the world and you give this man a few sheets of green paper representing the abstract wealth of your home nation, and he gives you a perfectly reasonable facsimile of one of the staples of the diet of a people from yet another faraway nation.

And the mushrooms are fresh.”

My Take

After finishing Beautiful Ruins, Jess Walters’ best-selling and critically acclaimed 2012 book, I wanted to read more by this amazing author.  After a quick Amazon search, I zeroed in on The Financial Lives of the Poets, a satirical book about the financial crisis that Walter had written a few years earlier.  It did not disappoint. From the hilarious concept of “Poetfolio,” a website that delivers financial news in the form of poems, to great characters to his capture of the zeitgeist of 2008 financial meltdown era, Walters delivers a quick reading, fun book that has something interesting to say about our modern times.

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122. The Chemist

Rating:  ☆☆1/2

Recommended by:   

Author:   Stephanie Meyer

Genre:  Fiction, Romance, Thriller

512 pages, published November 8, 2016

Reading Format:  Audio Book

 

Summary

The Chemist by Stephenie Meyer of Twilight fame is an action/adventure tale that tells the story of Alex, an ex CIA agent and torturer specializing in chemical cocktails to make her subjects talk, who is on the run from her former employers who must take one more case to clear her name and save her life.  Along the way, Alex hooks up with Daniel, a loveable school teacher, and his brother Kevin, a former Black Ops agent.  Intrigue and a love story ensue.  

 

Quotes

“I’ve never been drawn to someone the way I am to you, and I have been from the very first moment I met you. It’s like the difference between…between reading about gravity and then falling for the first time.”

 

“She earched for something to say, something that would make the world a little less dark and scary for him.  “Pop-Tart?” she offered.”

 

“Sometimes you cling to a mistake simply because it took so long to make.”

My Take

The Chemist is a popcorn thriller/action book. Not great literature, but readable enough (although the torture scenes are too drawn out and graphic for my taste).  The Twilight series was such a page-turning guilty pleasure for me that I felt compelled to check out Meyer’s other two books:  The Host and The Chemist.  Unfortunately, The Chemist is the weakest link.  Clocking in at 512 pages, your time is better spent elsewhere.

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121. Little Bee

Rating:  ☆☆☆

Recommended by:   

Author:   Chris Cleave

Genre:  Fiction, Historical Fiction

266 pages, published February 16, 2010

Reading Format:  Book

 

Summary

Little Bee follows the stories of two very different women.  Little Bee is the name of a teenage girl from Nigeria who manages to sneak her way into England only to be discovered thrown into an asylum detention centre for several years.  Sarah O’Rourke is a magazine editor from Surrey with a young son and a troubled marriage.  When the lives of the two women intersect both in Nigeria and the UK both of their lives are dramatically altered.   

 

Quotes

“On the girl’s brown legs there were many small white scars. I was thinking, Do those scars cover the whole of you, like the stars and the moons on your dress? I thought that would be pretty too, and I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.”

 

“I could not stop talking because now I had started my story, it wanted to be finished. We cannot choose where to start and stop. Our stories are the tellers of us. ”

 

“I’m telling you, trouble is like the ocean. It covers two thirds of the world.”

 

“Sad words are just another beauty. A sad story means, this storyteller is alive. The next thing you know something fine will happen to her, something marvelous, and then she will turn around and smile.”

 

“Life is savagely unfair. It ignores our deep-seated convictions and places a disproportionate emphasis on the decisions we make in split seconds.”

 

“To be well in your mind you have first to be free.”

 

“Psychiatry in this place is like serving an in-flight meal in the middle of a plane crash. If I wanted to make you well, as a doctor, I should be giving you a parachute, not a cheese-and-pickle sandwich.”

 

“Life is extremely short and you cannot dance to current affairs.”

 

“There was no quick grief for Andrew because he had been so slowly lost. First from my heart, then from my mind, and only finally from my life.”

 

“This is the forked tongue of grief again. It whispers in one ear: return to what you once loved best, and in the other ear it whispers, move on.”

 

“I planned how I would kill myself in the time of Churchill (stand under bombs), Victoria (throw myself under a horse), and Henry the Eighth (marry Henry the Eighth).”

 

“There’s eight million people here pretending the others aren’t getting on their nerves. I believe it’s called civilization.”

 

“People wonder how they are ever going to change their lives, but really it is frighteningly easy.”

 

“What is an adventure? That depends on where you are starting from. Little girls in your country, they hide in the gap between the washing machine and the refrigerator and they make believe they are in the jungle, with green snakes and monkeys all around them. Me and my sister, we used to hide in a gap in the jungle, with green snakes and monkeys all around us, and make believe that we had a washing machine and a refrigerator. You live in a world of machines and you dream of things with beating hearts. We dream of machines, because we see where beating hearts have left us.”

My Take

Little Bee was an enjoyable read and opened my eyes to the plight of African refugees.  The author’s contrast of the lives of two women:  teenage “Little Bee,” an illegal refugee from Nigeria, and 30-something Sarah O’Rourke, successful magazine editor with a young son and unhappy marriage, and how they impact each other held my attention and deepened my interest in their stories.  Not the best book I’ve read this year, but certainly not the worst.

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112. The Rosie Effect

Rating:  ☆☆☆

Recommended by:  Lisa Stock

Author:   Graeme Simsion

Genre:  Fiction, Humor

368 pages, published July 21, 2015

Reading Format:  Book

 

Summary

The Rosie Effect, which is the sequel to The Rosie Project, follows Don Tillman and Rosie Jarman after they marry and move to New York to study and work at Columbia.  The happy couple faces a new challenge when Rosie discovers she is pregnant.  Don, whose Asperger’s Syndrome makes him a unique and unforgettable character, decides to learn all that he can about becoming a father.  However, it doesn’t take long for his unusual research style to get him into trouble.

 

Quotes

“I thought you were happy about having a baby.’ I was happy in the way that I would be happy if the captain of an aircraft in which I was travelling announced that he had succeeded in restarting one engine after both had failed. Pleased that I would now probably survive, but shocked that the situation had arisen in the first place, and expecting a thorough investigation into the circumstances.”

 

“To the world’s most perfect woman.’ It was lucky my father was not present. Perfect is an absolute that cannot be modified, like unique or pregnant. My love for Rosie was so powerful that it had caused my brain to make a grammatical error.”

 

“It is generally accepted that people enjoy surprises: hence the traditions associated with Christmas, birthdays, and anniversaries. In my experience, most of the pleasure accrues to the giver. The victim is frequently under pressure to feign, at short notice, a positive response to an unwanted object or unscheduled event.”

 

“Watch some kids, watch them play. You’ll see they’re just little adults, only they don’t know all the rules and tricks yet.”

 

“before sharing interesting information that has not been solicited, think carefully about whether it has the potential to cause distress.”

 

“After the most basic physical requirements are satisfied, human happiness is almost independent of wealth. A meaningful job is far more important.”

 

“In marriage reason frequently had to take second place to Harmony”

 

“I watched as she took a second sip, imagining alcohol crossing the placental wall, damaging brain cells, reducing our unborn child from a future Einstein to a physicist who would fall just short of taking science to a new level. A child who would never have the experience described by Richard Feynman of knowing something about the universe that no one had before”

 

“One day in the life of Ivan Denisovich laying bricks in Siberia probably generated a higher level of happiness than one day in the life of a retired rock star in a Manhattan penthouse with all the beer he could drink. Work was crucial to sanity. Which was probably why George continued to perform on the cruise ship.”

 

“It was odd, paradoxical-crazy-that what Rosie seemed to value most about me, a highly organized person who avoided uncertainty and liked to plan in detail, was that my behavior generated unpredictable consequences. But if that was what she loved, I was not going to argue. What I was going to argue was that she should not abandon something she valued.”

 

“Rain Man! I had seen the film. I did not identify in any way with Rain Man, who was inarticulate, dependent, and unemployable. A society of Rain Men would be dysfunctional. A society of Don Tillmans would be efficient, safe, and pleasant for all of us.”

My Take

During the first year of my thousand book quest, I read The Rosie Project and really enjoyed it.  It was clever, light and fun and had a great character in the person of Don Tillman whose Asperger’s Syndrome made for some hilarious situations and dialogue.  In The Rosie Project, Don is looking for a wife and approaches the endeavor with his characteristic logical mind only to end up with the unlikely choice of Rosie Jarmon.  In The Rosie Effect, author Graeme Simsion relies upon a similar formula, but this time applies it to Don’s impending fatherhood.  It’s not quite as clever and fun as the first book, but it was still a treat to read it and there are truly some very funny moments that had me laughing.

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111. Beautiful Ruins

Rating:  ☆☆☆☆1/2

Recommended by:  Julie Horowitz

Author:   Jess Walter

Genre:  Historical Fiction, Foreign

337 pages, published June 12, 2012

Reading Format:  Audio Book

 

Summary

The story begins in 1962 when Pasquale, an Italian man in his early twenties who runs his family’s Inn with an Adequate View in Vergogna, meets Dee Moray on a rocky patch overlooking the Italian coastline.   Pasquale becomes enchanted with Moray, an American starlet, who has abandoned her small part in Cleopatra which is shooting in Italy, because she believes that she is dying.  The story, which goes back and forth in time, then weaves in many other interesting characters.  Michael Deane, an old time, has-been Hollywood Producer, described as a lacquered elf as the result of too much plastic surgery, who is connected to Moray and Pasquale and is desperate for a comeback hit.  Claire, Deane’s earnest assistant, who strives to make art and is consistently disillusioned with the drek that Hollywood pumps out.  Shane, who pitches and ill-fated movie idea based on the Donner party to Claire and Deane.  Pat, Moray’s illegitimate son who chases the dream of music stardom down a rabbit hole of self-loathing.  Alvis, an American veteran of World War II, whose time in Italy as a soldier fundamentally changed him and who cannot get past his writer’s block when he tries to convey what happened.  Even Richard Burton, who is in Italy to play Marc Antony, has a significant role.  All of these characters and more interact over fifty years to create a compelling, heartfelt, moving and often hilarious story about human longings and our connections to each other.

 

Quotes

“Sometimes what we want to do and what we must do are not the same. Pasquo, the smaller the space between your desire and what is right, the happier you will be.”

 

“Then she smiled, and in that instant, if such a thing were possible, Pasquale fell in love, and he would remain in love for the rest of his life–not so much with the woman, whom he didn’t even know, but with the moment.”

 

“His life was two lives now: the life he would have and the life he would forever wonder about.”

 

“All we have is the story we tell. Everything we do, every decision we make, our strength, weakness, motivation, history, and character-what we believe-none of it is real; it’s all part of the story we tell. But here’s the thing: it’s our goddamned story!”

 

“He thought it might be the most intimate thing possible, to fall asleep next to someone in the afternoon.”

 

“A writer needs four things to achieve greatness, Pasquale: desire, disappointment, and the sea.” “That’s only three.”  Alvis finished his wine. “You have to do disappointment twice.”

 

“Stories are bulls. Writers come of age full of vigor, and they feel the need to drive the old stories from the herd. One bull rules the herd awhile but then he loses his vigor and the young bulls take over.  Stories are nations, empires. They can last as long as ancient Rome or as short as the Third Reich. Story-nations rise and decline. Governments change, trends rise, and they go on conquering their neighbors.  Stories are people. I’m a story, you’re a story . . . your father is a story. Our stories go in every direction, but sometimes, if we’re lucky, our stories join into one, and for a while, we’re less alone.”

 

“This reminded him of Alvis Bender’s contention that stories were like nations – Italy, a great epic poem, Britain, a thick novel, America, a brash motion picture in technicolor…”

 

“Words and emotions are simple currencies. If we inflate them, they lose their value, just like money. They begin to mean nothing. Use ‘beautiful’ to describe a sandwich and the word means nothing. Since the war, there is no more room for inflated language. Words and feelings are small now – clear and precise. Humble like dreams.”

 

“Weren’t movies his generation’s faith anyway- its true religion? Wasn’t the theatre our temple, the one place we enter separately but emerge from two hours later together, with the same experience, same guided emotions, same moral? A million schools taught ten million curricula, a million churches featured ten thousand sects with a billion sermons- but the same movie showed in every mall in the country. And we all saw it. That summer, the one you’ll never forget, every movie house beamed the same set of thematic and narrative images…flickering pictures stitched in our minds that replaced our own memories, archetypal stories that become our shared history, that taught us what to expect from life, that defined our values. What was that but a religion?”

 

“To pitch here is to live. People pitch their kids into good schools, pitch offers on houses they can’t afford, and when they’re caught in the arms of the wrong person, pitch unlikely explanations. Hospitals pitch birthing centers, daycares pitch love, high schools pitch success . . . car dealerships pitch luxury, counselors self-esteem, masseuses happy endings, cemeteries eternal rest . . . It’s endless, the pitching—endless, exhilarating, soul-sucking, and as unrelenting as death. As ordinary as morning sprinklers.”

 

“This is what happens when you live in dreams, he thought: you dream this and you dream that and you sleep right through your life.”

 

“He was part of a ruined generation of young men coddled by their parents -by their mothers especially- raised on unearned self-esteem, in a bubble of overaffection, in a sad incubator of phony achievement.”

 

“He wished he could reassure his mother: a man wants many things in life, but when one of them is also the right thing, he would be a fool not to choose it.”

 

“At peace? Who but the insane would ever be at peace? What person who has enjoyed life could possibly think one is enough? Who could live even a day and not feel the sweet ache of regret?”

 

“He found himself inhabiting the vast, empty plateau where most people live, between boredom and contentment.”

 

“And because he felt like he might burst open and because he lacked the dexterity in English to say all that he was thinking–how in his estimation, the more you lived the more regret and longing you suffered, that life was a glorious catastrophe–Pasquale Tursi said, only, “Yes.”

 

“But I think some people wait forever, and only at the end of their lives do they realize that their life has happened while they were waiting for it to start.”

 

“But aren’t all great quests folly? El Dorado and the Fountain of Youth and the search for intelligent life in the cosmos– we know what’s out there. It’s what isn’t that truly compels us. Technology may have shrunk the epic journey to a couple of short car rides and regional jet lags– four states and twelve hundred miles traversed in an afternoon– but true quests aren’t measured in time or distance anyway, so much as in hope. There are only two good outcomes for a quest like this, the hope of the serendipitous savant– sail for Asia and stumble on America– and the hope of scarecrows and tin men: that you find out you had the thing you sought all along.”

 

“Be confident and the world responds to your confidence, rewards your faith.”

 

“What person who has enjoyed life could possibly think one is enough?”

 

“This is a love story,” Michael Dean says, ”but really what isn’t? Doesn’t the detective love the mystery or the chase, or the nosey female reporter who is even now being held against her wishes at an empty warehouse on the waterfront? Surely, the serial murder loves his victims, and the spy loves his gadgets, or his country or the exotic counterspy. The ice-trucker is torn between his love for ice and truck and the competing chefs go crazy for scallops, and the pawnshop guys adore their junk. Just as the housewives live for catching glimpses of their own botoxed brows in gilded hall mirrors and the rocked out dude on ‘roids totally wants to shred the ass of the tramp-tatted girl on hookbook. Because this is reality, they are all in love, madly, truly, with the body-mic clipped to their back-buckle and the producer casually suggesting, “Just one more angle.”, “One more jello shot.” And the robot loves his master. Alien loves his saucer. Superman loves Lois. Lex and Lana. Luke loves Leia, til he finds out she’s his sister. And the exorcist loves the demon, even as he leaps out the window with it, in full soulful embrace. As Leo loves Kate, and they both love the sinking ship. And the shark, god the shark, loves to eat. Which is what the Mafioso loves too, eating and money and Pauly and Omertà. The way the cowboy loves his horse, loves the corseted girl behind the piano bar and sometimes loves the other cowboy. As the vampire loves night and neck. And the zombie, don’t even start with the zombie, sentimental fool, has anyone ever been more love-sick than a zombie, that pale dull metaphor for love, all animal craving and lurching, outstretched arms. His very existence a sonnet about how much he wants those brains. This, too is a love story.”

“And even if they don’t find what they’re looking for, isn’t it enough to be out walking together in the sunlight?”

My Take

I had not heard much about Beautiful Ruins or author Jess Walter prior to reading this book.  However, after seeing it on several recommended books lists, I decided to give it a try.  I’m glad I did.  Walter creates a fascinating world that oscillates between a small coastal town in Italy during the early 1960’s and modern day Hollywood.  His characters are well articulated and keep inviting you to go deeper with them as they struggle with their dreams, realities, ambitions, disappointments, and longings.  While there is meaning here, there is also great humor, especially when Walter skewers Hollywood, both modern day and yesteryear.  I was sad to finish this book, but happy that I got to spend some time in the world of Beautiful Ruins.

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41. The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry

Rating:  ☆☆☆☆

Recommended by:

Author:   Rachel Joyce

Genre:  Fiction, Happiness

320 pages, published July 24, 2012

Reading Format:  Audio Book

 

Summary

Recently retired and at loose ends, Harold Fry receives a letter from Queenie Hennessy, an old friend and former work colleague who he hasn’t heard from in twenty years who has written to say she is dying and to tell Harold goodbye.  Harold writes Queenie a letter in reply and walks to his neighborhood mailbox to post it, but something unexpected happens.  Harold  becomes convinced that he must deliver his message in person to Queenie, who is 600 miles away in a hospice, because as long as he keeps walking, Harold believes that Queenie will not die.   So begins the unexpected pilgrimage of Harold Fry.  Harold meets meets various characters along the way who cause Harold to look back on his life and examine his failed relationships with his wife and son.

 

Quotes

“Upstairs, Maureen shut the door of David’s room quietly and stood a moment breathing him in.  She pulled open his blue curtains that she closed every night and checked that there was no dust where the hem of the net drapes met the windowsill.  She polished the silver frame of his Cambridge portrait and the black and white baby photograph beside it.  She kept the room clean because she was waiting for David to come back and she never knew when that might be.  A part of her was always waiting.  Men had no idea what it was like to be a mother.  The ache of loving a child, even when he had moved on.”

 

“Harold asked himself if years ago he shouldn’t have pressed Maureen to have another baby.  “David is enough,” she had said.  “He is all we need.”  But sometimes he was afraid that having one son was too much to bear.  He wondered if the pain of loving became diluted the more you had.  A child’s growing was a constant pushing away.”

 

“People were buying milk, or filling their cars with petrol, or even posting letters. And what no one else knew was the appalling weight of the thing they were carrying inside. The superhuman effort it took sometimes to be normal, and a part of things that appeared both easy and everyday. The loneliness of that.”

 

“If I just keep putting one foot in front of the other, it stands to reason that I’m going to get there. I’ve begun to think we sit far more than we’re supposed to.” He smiled. “Why else would we have feet?”

 

“you could be ordinary and attempt something extraordinary, without being able to explain it in a logical way.”

 

“He must have driven this way countless times, and yet he had no memory of the scenery. He must have been so caught up in the day’s agenda, and arriving punctually at their destination, that the land beyond the car had been no more than a wash of one green, and a backdrop of one hill. Life was very different when you walked through it.”

 

“There was no escaping what he had realized as he fought for warmth in the night. With or without him,the moon and the wind would go on, rising and falling. The land would keep stretching ahead until it hit the sea. People would keep dying. It made no difference if Harold walked, or trembled, or stayed at home.”

 

“I miss her all the time.  I know in my head that she has gone. The only difference is that I am getting used to the pain.  It’s like discovering a great hole in the ground. To begin with, you forget it’s there and keep falling in.  After a while, it’s still there, but you learn to walk round it.”

 

“… He went under the stars, and the tender light of the moon, when it hung like an eyelash and the tree trunks shone like bones. He walked through wind and weather, and beneath sun-bleached skies. It seemed to Harold that he had been waiting all his life to walk. He no longer knew how far he had come, but only that he was going forward. The pale Cotswold stone became the red brick of Warwickshire, and the land flattened into middle England. Harold reached his hand to his mouth to brush away a fly, and felt a beard growing in thick tufts. Queenie would live. He knew it.”

 

My Take

I really loved listening to The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry.  This is a beautifully written book about the human spirit, the meaning of life, and coming to terms with not only what you did in life, but more importantly what you failed to do.  As a side note, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, reminded me a lot of A Man Called Ove, another book I read this year and really enjoyed.

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