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156. A Gentleman in Moscow

Rating:  ☆☆☆☆☆

Recommended by:   Blair Norman, Barbara Corson

Author:   Amor Towles

Genre:  Historical Fiction, Fiction

462 pages, published September 6, 2016

Reading Format:  Audio Book

 

Summary

In A Gentleman in Moscow, Amor Towles depicts Russia during the beginning and middle of the twentieth century through the eyes of Count Alexander Rostov.  In 1922, Count Rostov is sentenced to house arrest in the Metropol, a grand hotel across the street from the Kremlin.   Rostov, a paragon of sophistication and wit, has never worked a day in his life, and must now live in an attic room while some of the most tumultuous decades in Russian history are unfolding outside the hotel’s doors.  Unexpectedly, his changed circumstances provide him a unique viewpoint into a much larger world of emotional discovery.

 

Quotes 

“if a man does not master his circumstances then he is bound to be mastered by them.”

 

“For his part, the Count had opted for the life of the purposefully unrushed. Not only was he disinclined to race toward some appointed hour – disdaining even to wear a watch – he took the greatest satisfaction when assuring a friend that a worldly matter could wait in favor of a leisurely lunch or stroll along the embankment. After all, did not wine improve with age? Was it not the passage of years that gave a piece of furniture its delightful patina? When all was said and done, the endeavors that most modern men saw as urgent (such as appointments with bankers and the catching of trains), probably could have waited, while those they deemed frivolous (such as cups of tea and friendly chats) had deserved their immediate attention.”

 

“For what matters in life is not whether we receive a round of applause; what matters is whether we have the courage to venture forth despite the uncertainty of acclaim.”

 

“The principle here is that a new generation owes a measure of thanks to every member of the previous generation. Our elders planted fields and fought in wars; they advanced the arts and sciences, and generally made sacrifices on our behalf. So by their efforts, however humble, they have earned a measure of our gratitude and respect.”

 

“He had said that our lives are steered by uncertainties, many of which are disruptive or even daunting; but that if we persevere and remain generous of heart, we may be granted a moment of lucidity—a moment in which all that has happened to us suddenly comes into focus as a necessary course of events, even as we find ourselves on the threshold of the life we had been meant to lead all along.”

 

“the Confederacy of the Humbled is a close-knit brotherhood whose members travel with no outward markings, but who know each other at a glance. For having fallen suddenly from grace, those in the Confederacy share a certain perspective. Knowing beauty, influence, fame, and privilege to be borrowed rather than bestowed, they are not easily impressed. They are not quick to envy or take offense. They certainly do not scour the papers in search of their own names. They remain committed to living among their peers, but they greet adulation with caution, ambition with sympathy, and condescension with an inward smile. ”

 

“It is a sad but unavoidable fact of life,” he began, “that as we age our social circles grow smaller. Whether from increased habit or diminished vigor, we suddenly find ourselves in the company of just a few familiar faces.”

 

“It is a well-known fact that of all the species on earth Homo sapiens is among the most adaptable. Settle a tribe of them in a desert and they will wrap themselves in cotton, sleep in tents, and travel on the backs of camels; settle them in the Arctic and they will wrap themselves in sealskin, sleep in igloos, and travel by dog-drawn sled. And if you settle them in a Soviet climate? They will learn to make friendly conversation with strangers while waiting in line; they will learn to neatly stack their clothing in their half of the bureau drawer; and they will learn to draw imaginary buildings in their sketchbooks. That is, they will adapt.”

 

“After all, what can a first impression tell us about someone we’ve just met for a minute in the lobby of a hotel? For that matter, what can a first impression tell us about anyone? Why, no more than a chord can tell us about Beethoven, or a brushstroke about Botticelli. By their very nature, human beings are so capricious, so complex, so delightfully contradictory, that they deserve not only our consideration, but our reconsideration—and our unwavering determination to withhold our opinion until we have engaged with them in every possible setting at every possible hour.”

 

“I’ll tell you what is convenient,” he said after a moment. “To sleep until noon and have someone bring you your breakfast on a tray. To cancel an appointment at the very last minute. To keep a carriage waiting at the door of one party, so that on a moment’s notice it can whisk you away to another. To sidestep marriage in your youth and put off having children altogether. These are the greatest of conveniences, Anushka—and at one time, I had them all. But in the end, it has been the inconveniences that have mattered to me most.”

 

“Invariably dressed in black, the Countess was one of those dowagers whose natural independence of mind, authority of age, and impatience with the petty made her the ally of all irreverent youth.”

 

“Alexander Rostov was neither scientist nor sage; but at the age of sixty-four he was wise enough to know that life does not proceed by leaps and bounds. It unfolds. At any given moment, it is the manifestation of a thousand transitions. Our faculties wax and wane, our experiences accumulate and our opinions evolve–if not glacially, then at least gradually. Such that the events of an average day are as likely to transform who we are as a pinch of pepper is to transform a stew.”

 

My Take

I had high expectations for A Gentleman in Moscow after my friend Barbara told me that she loved the book so much that as soon as she finished reading it, she started rereading it again.  I cannot think of higher praise.  While high expectations can sometimes ruin an experience, that was not the case here.  It started a bit slowly, but after an hour or two of listening to the audio book version (with excellent voice work by Nicholas Guy Smith), I was hooked.  Full of humor, a magnificent cast of characters, and one wonderful scene after another, A Gentleman in Moscow reveals layer after layer of discovery and growing self awareness as Count Rostov comes to understand the reality of the world surrounding him and his place in it.

 

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152. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Rating:  ☆☆☆☆1/2

Recommended by:  Sue Breen

Author:   Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows

Genre:  Historical Fiction, Fiction, Romance, World War II

277 pages, published July 29, 2008

Reading Format:  Audio Book

 

Summary

Written as a series of letters, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society tells two stories.  The first takes place in 1946 Britain during the immediate aftermath of World War II.  London is emerging from the shadow of war and writer Juliet Ashton is looking for her next book subject. She finds it in a letter from a man she’s never met, a native of the island of Guernsey, who has come across her name written inside a book by Charles Lamb.  As Juliet delves into her new subject, the second story of life on the Island of Guernsey, the only part of the UK occupied by the Germans during the war, takes shape and fascinates a curious Juliet.  Juliet is drawn into the eccentric world of this man and his friends and learns about the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, which originated as a spur-of-the-moment alibi when its members were discovered breaking curfew by the Germans occupying their island.  Juliet begins a correspondence with the society’s members, learning about their island, their taste in books, and the impact the recent German occupation has had on their lives. Captivated by their stories, she travels to Guernsey, and what she finds will change her forever.

 

Quotes

“That’s what I love about reading: one tiny thing will interest you in a book, and that tiny thing will lead you to another book, and another bit there will lead you onto a third book. It’s geometrically progressive – all with no end in sight, and for no other reason than sheer enjoyment.”

 

“Reading good books ruins you for enjoying bad books.”

 

“Perhaps there is some secret sort of homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers. How delightful if that were true.”

 

“I don’t want to be married just to be married. I can’t think of anything lonelier than spending the rest of my life with someone I can’t talk to, or worse, someone I can’t be silent with.”

 

“Life goes on.” What nonsense, I thought, of course it doesn’t. It’s death that goes on.”

 

“She is one of those ladies who is more beautiful at sixty than she could possibly have been at twenty. (how I hope someone says that about me someday)!”

 

“I kept trying to explain and he kept shouting until I began to cry from frustration. Then he felt remorseful, which was so unlike him and endearing that I almost changed my mind and said yes. But then I imagined a lifetime of having to cry to get him to be kind, and I went back to no again.”

“Have you ever noticed that when your mind is awakened or drawn to someone new, that person’s name suddenly pops up everywhere you go? My friend Sophie calls it coincidence, and Mr. Simpless, my parson friend, calls it Grace. He thinks that if one cares deeply about someone or something new one throws a kind of energy out into the world, and “fruitfulness” is drawn in.”

 

“All my life I thought that the story was over when the hero and heroine were safely engaged — after all, what’s good enough for Jane Austen ought to be good enough for anyone. But it’s a lie. The story is about to begin, and every day will be a new piece of the plot. ”

 

“Friends, show me a man who hates himself, and I’ll show you a man who hates his neighbors more! He’d have to–you’d not grant anyone else something you can’t have for yourself–no love, no kindness, no respect!”

 

“If there is Predestination, then God is the devil.”

 

My Take

I really loved listening to the audio version of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, a delightful book rich with colorful characters, especially protagonist Juliet Ashton.  The authors draw you into Juliet’s world and through her letters we can vicariously experience life on the island of Guernsey during and after World War II and life in post war London.  Juliet is intelligent, dedicated, witty, funny, but most importantly, she is kind hearted.  All of her traits permeate this book, making you wish that she was a real person you could know and befriend.  I recently learned that they are making a movie of this book starring Lily James (who was wonderful as both Cousin Rose on Downton Abbey and as Cinderella in the Disney live action movie version).  I think it was an excellent casting choice and I look forward to seeing the film version of one of my favorite books of the year.

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147. The Boston Girl

Rating:  ☆☆☆1/2

Recommended by:

Author:   Anita Diamant

Genre:  Historical Fiction, Fiction

320 pages, published December 9, 2014

Reading Format:  Audio Book on Overdrive

 

Summary

The Boston Girl is a coming-of-age novel told from the perspective of 85 year old Addie Baum reflecting on her life to her to her twenty-two-year-old granddaughter.  Addie was born in 1900 to Jewish immigrant parents.  Growing up in the North End of Boston, Addie’s intelligence and curiosity take her to a world her parents can’t imagine – a world of short skirts, movies, celebrity culture and new opportunities for women.  Addie wants to finish high school and dreams of going to college.  She wants a career and to find true love.  The book follows her path to achieve all of these things.

 

Quotes

“When a shy person smiles, it’s like the sun coming out.”

 

“It was one of those perfect fall days when the air is cool enough to wake you up but the sun is also kissing your face.”

 

“I’m still embarrassed and mad at myself. But after seventy years, I also feel sorry for the girl I used to be. She was awfully hard on herself.”

 

“You should always be kind to people, Ava. You never know what sorrows they’re carrying around.”

 

“It took me until I was almost forty before I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up.”

 

“When I look at my eighty-five-year-old face in the mirror today, I think, “You’re never going to look better than you do today, honey, so smile.” Whoever said a smile is the best face-lift was one smart woman.”

 

“it’s good to be smart, but kindness is more important.”

 

“Hiking is the same thing as walking, only hotter and twice as far as you want to go. But usually, you’re glad you went.”

 

“Don’t let anyone tell you things aren’t better than they used to be.”

 

“If you treat every question like you’ve never heard it before, your students feel like you respect them and everyone learns a lot more. Including the teacher.”

 

My Take

I had enjoyed The Red Tent, also by Anita Diamant, so I thought I would give The Boston Girl a read (actually a listen).  While not the most engrossing book, it did hold my interest and I was somewhat charmed by Addie Baum, the titular protagonist, and her evolvement from a meek immigrant child into a self actualized modern woman as she journeys through the twentieth century.  An easy and pleasant vacation read.

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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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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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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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109. The 100-year-old man who climbed out the window and disappeared

Rating:  ☆☆☆1/2

Recommended by:   Lisa Stock

Author:   Jonas Jonasson

Genre:  Fiction, Humor, Foreign, Historical Fiction

384 pages, published September 11, 2012

Reading Format:  Book

 

Summary

As he prepares to celebrate his 100th birthday, Allan Karlsson does the unexpected.  Still in his slippers, he steps out of his nursing home window and into an incredible adventure.  He will find himself accidentally in possession of a small fortune, on the run from the mob and the police and on the way will make the acquaintance of a colorful cast of characters, including Sophia a former circus elephant.  We learn about Allan’s amazing life and his close encounters with the major players of the twentieth century, along with his key role in shaping our history, through a series of interspersed flashbacks.   

 

Quotes

“People could behave how they liked, but Allan considered that in general it was quite unnecessary to be grumpy if you had the chance not to.”

 

“When life has gone into overtime it’s easy to take liberties,”

 

“There are only two things I can do better than most people. One of them is to make vodka from goats’ milk, and the other is to put together an atom bomb.”

 

“Revenge is like politics, one thing always leads to another until bad has become worse, and worse has become worst.”

 

“Allan thought it sounded unnecessary for the people in the seventeenth century to kill each other. If they had only been a little patient they would all have died in the end anyway. Julius said that you could say the same of all epochs.”

 

“Allan admitted that the difference between madness and genius was subtle, and that he couldn’t with certainty say which it was in this case, but that he had his suspicions.”

 

“But God answered with silence. He did that sometimes, and Father Ferguson always interpreted it to mean that he should think for himself. Admittedly, it didn’t always work out well when the pastor thought for himself, but you couldn’t just give up.”

 

“Never try to out-drink a Swede, unless you happen to be a Finn or at least a Russian.”

 

“Allan Emmanuelle Karlsson closed his eyes and felt perfectly convinced that he would now pass away forever. It had been exciting, the entire journey, but nothing lasts forever, except possibly general stupidity.”

My Take

The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared is a fun book that alternates between the present day, hilarious antics of a 100 year old man and his ragtag gang who are on the run from the police and his adventures through the 20th Century.  Through the inscrutable Allan Karlsson who specializes in the art of blowing things up and has perfected the art of making alcoholic beverages from goats milk, we meet Joseph Stalin, Winston Churchill, Harry Truman Mao Tse-Tung , Francisco Franco, Charles de Gaulle and, best of all, Albert Einstein’s dim-witted half brother Harold.  Quirky and unique, this book is a fun and fast reading romp.

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108. The Bookman’s Tale

Rating:  ☆☆1/2

Recommended by:   Heather Ringoen

Author:   Charlie Lovett

Genre:  Historical Fiction, Mystery, Fiction

355 pages, published January 1, 2013

Reading Format:  Book

 

Summary

The Bookman’s Tale opens in 1995 in Hay-on-Wye, England. Newly widowed antiquarian bookseller Peter Byerly is perusing old books in a local shop when he discovers a mysterious portrait from the past century that looks just like his deceased wife Amanda.  As he follows the trail through the Victorian era and then to Shakespeare’s time, Peter talks to Amanda’s spirit, learns the truth about his own past, and discovers a book that might definitively prove Shakespeare was, indeed, the author of all his plays.  

 

Quotes

“The best way to learn about books, … is to spend time with them, talk about them, defend them.”

 

“He embraced the ache. It reminded him that Amanda was real. For the first time in his life, he knew exactly what he was aching for.”

 

“Like a subscription to a magazine, thought Peter. The period during which I am allowed to be happy has expired.”

 

My Take

I love books (obviously) and as a lover of books, I thought I would enjoy The Bookman’s Tale more than I did.  While there are some interesting aspects to the story, especially the parts that deal with the issue of whether Shakespeare was the author of the works attributed to him, those small sections were not enough to overcome the confusing and convoluted “mystery,” the one dimensional character development and the tedium involved in slogging through this book.

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106. The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto

Rating:  ☆☆☆1/2

Recommended by:   

Author:   Mitch Albom

Genre:  Historical Fiction, Music, Fiction

512 pages, published November 10, 2012

Reading Format:  Audio Book

 

Summary

With a focus on the music scene starting in the 1940’s and a touch of magical realism, Mitch Albom tells the epic story of Frankie Presto, the greatest guitar player who ever lived and the lives he changed with his six magical blue strings.  Frankie is born in a burning church during the Spanish Civil war, abandoned as an infant, and raised by a blind guitar teacher until he is sent to America at nine years old with only an old guitar and six precious strings.  His amazing journey weaves him through the musical landscape of the second half of the Twentieth Century where he encounters D’jango Reinhardt, Duke Ellington, Hank Williams, Elvis Presley, the Everly Brothers, Tony Bennett, Lyle Lovett, and many more.  Along the way, he becomes a pop star, meets, marries, loses and regains the love of his life, battles addiction, depression and hopelessness and changes many lives with the power of his magic strings.  

 

Quotes

“All humans are musical. Why else would the Lord give you a beating heart?”

 

“This is life. Things get taken away. You will learn to start over many times — or you will be useless.”

 

“You cannot write if you do not read,” the blind man said. “You cannot eat if you do not chew. And you cannot play if you do not”—he grabbed for the boy’s hand—“listen.”

 

“Everyone joins a band in this life. And what you play always affects someone. Sometimes, it affects the world.”

 

“EVERYONE JOINS A BAND IN THIS LIFE. You are born into your first one. Your mother plays the lead. She shares the stage with your father and siblings. Or perhaps your father is absent, an empty stool under a spotlight. But he is still a founding member, and if he surfaces one day, you will have to make room for him. As life goes on, you will join other bands, some through friendship, some through romance, some through neighborhoods, school, an army. Maybe you will all dress the same, or laugh at your own private vocabulary. Maybe you will flop on couches backstage, or share a boardroom table, or crowd around a galley inside a ship. But in each band you join, you will play a distinct part, and it will affect you as much as you affect it.”

 

“In every artist’s life, there comes a person who lifts the curtain on creativity. It is the closest you come to seeing me again. The first time, when you emerge from the womb, I am a brilliant color in the rainbow of human talents from which you choose. Later, when a special someone lifts the curtain, you feel that chosen talent stirring inside you, a bursting passion to sing, paint, dance, bang on drums. And you are never the same.”

 

“You humans are always locking each other away. Cells. Dungeons. Some of your earliest jails were sewers, where men sloshed in their own waste. No other creature has this arrogance—to confine its own. Could you imagine a bird imprisoning another bird? A horse jailing a horse? As a free form of expression, I will never understand it. I can only say that some of my saddest sounds have been heard in such places. A song inside a cage is never a song. It is a plea.”

 

“Sometimes I think the greatest talent of all is perseverance.”

 

“I have said that music allows for quick creation. But it is nothing compared with what you humans can destroy in a single conversation.”

 

“Silence enhances music. What you do not play can sweeten what you do. But it is not the same with words. What you do not say can haunt you.”

 

“At a certain point, your life is more about your legacy to your kids than anything else.”

My Take

I’ve read several Mitch Albom books (including The Time Keeper) since starting my thousand book quest and The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto is my favorite one.  Not only does the book offer the reader an interesting retrospective of music since the 1940’s, but it also contains compelling insights on the nature of talent, the choices we make in life and the meaning and importance of love.  With many different voices used to great effect on the Audio Book, I would recommend listening to, rather than reading, this book.

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102. What She Left Behind

Rating:  ☆☆

Recommended by:  Pam Dupont

Author:   Ellen Marie Wiseman

Genre:  Historical Fiction, Fiction. Mystery

368 pages, published December 31, 2013

Reading Format:  Audio Book

 

Summary

Ten years ago, Izzy Stone’s mother fatally shot her father while he slept. Devastated by her mother’s apparent insanity, Izzy, now seventeen, refuses to visit her in prison. But her new foster parents, employees at a local museum, have enlisted Izzy’s help in cataloging items at a long-shuttered state asylum. There, amid piles of abandoned belongings, Izzy discovers a stack of unopened letters and an old journal written by Clara Cartwright.  When Clara was eighteen years old in 1929 she was caught between her overbearing parents and her love for an Italian immigrant named Bruno.  When she rejects a loveless arranged marriage, Clara is committed to a public asylum.  As Izzy deals with her own challenges, Clara’s story keeps drawing her into the past.  

 

Quotes 

“The world was full of broken people, and all the hospitals and institutions and jails could never mend their fractured hearts, wounded minds, and trampled spirits.”

 

“The earth and everything on it was cast black for those last few minutes of daylight, as if evil ruled the world for that short period of time, before the stars and moon came out to illuminate the night sky and remind everyone and everything that there really was lightness and goodness in the universe, that there really was hope and heaven.”

 

“Either way, the thought of entire lives lost—family celebrations, Christmases and birthdays, love affairs and bedtime stories, weddings and high school graduations—because of a misfire or unexplained chaos inside a person’s brain, made her chest constrict. It wasn’t fair.”

My Take

I haven’t given two stars to many books, but that is the best I can do for What She Left Behind.  Stringing together clichés and worn out tropes does not make for compelling reading.

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