Showing posts with label A. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 9, 2025

Abscond

Abscond is a short story by Abraham Verghese that I downloaded to my Kindle for free. I think I like this author’s writing, but his novels are LONG and therefore require quite a commitment from me. I’m glad I made it through The Covenant of Water and need to decide whether to attempt Cutting for Stone. I worry I won’t have the stamina. 

Verghese clearly writes from what he knows, and much of that knowledge seems to revolve around Indian and Scottish cultures, as well as an interest in academics and medicine. I recognized these similarities in both of his stories I have read and suspect the same is true in Stone.

So in summary, Abscond was entertaining. The story centers on the life of 13-year-old tennis prodigy Ravi Ramanathan, during the summer of 1967 in New Jersey. The description on Goodreads begins, “Fate challenges a boy to find his place in the world …” Ironically, I felt there were some areas that could have been fleshed out more. In other words, think I would LOVE this author if his books were “just right” (like Goldilock’s porridge) in length. Not too short and not too long :)

Saturday, May 3, 2025

All Fours


I really need to become more discerning in my choices of reading material. Information overload and overwhelm is real, especially these days when I let myself ponder how few years I realistically have left I know that sounds dark, but it’s just reality. I probably shouldn’t have wasted my precious time reading All Fours by Miranda July, but once I made it halfway, I was committed to completion.

I also probably should’ve recognized the sexual connotation in the title too, but again, no, I missed that clue and was taken aback a little bit when the book lurched into full-blown soft-porn as the main character awkwardly explores her sexuality and questions her life choices. 

In case you’re thick like me, toward the end of the book you’ll be treated to this pearl of wisdom, “Everyone thinks doggy style is so vulnerable…but it’s actually the most stable position. Like a table. It’s hard to be knocked down when you’re on all fours.” So says the unnamed protagonist’s long-suffering artist friend when describing her sculpture of a green marble, headless woman on her hands and knees! And by long-suffering, I’m referencing her putting up with her annoyingly, self-indulgent 45 year old friend throughout the entire book.

I wish I could recall how this book came to be on the long list of selections I wait patiently for on Libby. Could have been the Titcomb’s newsletter or New York Times bestseller lists. If I could remember, I’d avoid future recommendations from that source.

It’s never good when you can’t wait to finish reading a book, hoping all along a tornado comes along and wipes out all the characters or they all die in a house fire. No such luck. I finally made it to the end and was left scratching my head. Somehow the irritating main character was still going, like a demented Energizer Bunny, leaving a trail of devastation and confusion in her wake.

Tuesday, June 2, 2020

American Dirt

American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins begins with great promise. The opening sequence involves the brutal murder of several members of a large family by a Mexican drug cartel and is told through the eyes of a young boy who witnesses the terror hidden inside a bathroom shower stall. The reader is literally thrust into the story's plot in the most heartbreaking and gruesome way. I was fascinated and sickened by the visceral details describing the massacre, and I immediately felt a connection to the main character, eight-year-old Luca.

Turns out the only survivors of the hit are Luca and his mother Lydia who owns a bookstore in Alcapulco. Cousins, aunts and uncles, and grandparents are slain at the family barbecue to retaliate for a tell-all expose written by Lydia's husband, a journalist. The remainder of the book chronicles the harrowing journey through the desert of Mexico as Lydia and Luca attempt to escape to el norte.

Somehow halfway through the book, I became distracted.  The horrific danger at every turn became heavy-handed and bits written from the perspectives of newly introduced characters on the journey confused me. The danger is certainly understandable, but I felt the balance between the cruel events taking place and the characters' reflections became disjointed as well.  I continued reading because I was completely invested in the story's resolution!

Halfway through reading the book, I was also reminded about the controversy surrounding the author's non-Mexican heritage that played out when it was first published in early 2020. That didn't end up being an issue for me because I think the author did a great job immersing herself into the plight of her characters. Isn't that the job of fiction writers, to research and gather information to help them tell the stories of made-up characters? Cummins never claimed this to be the true story of a migrant mother and son fleeing to America, nor did she claim it to be her story!

It is a powerful and relevant story, however, one that raises awareness of fairness, decency, and humanity during a time when it seems Americans are being discouraged from displaying any of those qualities toward our southern neighbors.

This excerpt from Chapter 30 demonstrates the determination and resolve that moved the characters forward toward sanctuary in America. “Lydia expected there would be a moment when these notions would flood through her, all at once, like a small death. A portal. She’d hoped, like one of those desert rattlesnakes, to shed the skin of her anguish and leave it behind her in the Mexican dirt. But the moment of the crossing has already passed, and she didn’t even realize it had happened. She never looked back, never committed any small act of ceremony to help launch her into the new life on the other side. Nothing can be undone. Adelante.” 

Saturday, January 19, 2019

A Man Called Ove

I recently discovered this author and started following him on Instagram. He’s a Swedish blogger and writer with a snarky, sarcastic voice. A Man Called Ove is Fredrik Backman’s debut novel published in 2015. Loved this book! There’s also a Swedish movie with English subtitles on Amazon Prime that made me cry because life isn’t fair and it’s so messy. Also, I am a female curmudgeon. Edit to add that an American version of the film starring Tom Hanks and renamed A Man Called Otto was released in 2023 and is not as strong as the original.

This review sums it up.

"An inspiring affirmation of love for life and acceptance of people for their essence and individual quirks. A Man Called Ove is a perfect selection for book clubs. It's well written and replete with universal concerns. It lacks violence and profanity, is life-affirming and relationship-driven. The book is bittersweet, tender, often wickedly humorous and almost certain to elicit tears. I contentedly wept my way through a box of tissues when I first read the novel and again when I savored it for a second time.” (BookBrowse.com) 

In a similar, irreverent manner this story reminds me of the Netflix series After Life starring Ricky Gervais. The no-holds-barred humor belies a deeper theme about the importance of human connection.

Sunday, March 18, 2018

A Long Walk To Water


A Long Walk To Water
by Linda Sue Park is a great book to help students comprehend the unequal distribution of clean drinking water throughout the world and the importance of water conservation. It’s easy for us to take for granted the abundance of fresh water that tumbles out of faucets in our homes in North America. Many other areas of the world do not share this good fortune, and by far, our continent ranks the highest in consumption of the world’s precious water supply.

🌊 The book’s complex plot structure incorporates two parallel stories in which a search for water plays a significant role. It details the heartbreaking journey of one of Sudan’s “lost boys” during the 1970s as well as the more contemporary plight of a young girl and her family dealing with the hardship of water shortages in their African village.

Rich language, phrasing, characterization, and thematic development make this book a worthwhile choice for all guided reading levels during our unit on the importance of water.

Monday, July 18, 2016

The Almost Moon

I found this book in my door one day last month, a gift from my friend Lisa who is renowned for her attempts to broaden my horizons with reading and movie recommendations. This selection is unlike her usual literary suggestions, but the first line did grab my attention.
“When all is said and done, killing my mother came easily.”

Alice Sebold is the author of The Lovely Bones which I enjoyed for its unusual point of view and raw character development. So, I began reading The Almost Moon in a quest to discover what eccentricities lay with in its twisted plot.

The freak factor was almost too much for me when, after killing her mother, the main character proceeds to engage in something even more taboo. More taboo than matricide, you ask? No spoilers here, but I forged on in order to learn the fate of the poor, damaged souls in this unconventional story. Since I can’t give away the ending, I guess I’ll share some peculiar tidbits I garnered from this book.

First, I learned about the Melungeon people from Tennessee. I had never heard of these interracial groups who inhabited the southeastern United States and seemingly comprised European, African, and Native American ethnicities. At one point in the story, the main character reminisces about trying to convince her young daughters that their family descended from the Melungeons. Quirky.

In another creepy subplot, the main character recalls the history of the town her father came from. It had been closed down and the residents “relocated” in order for a dam to redirect the waters of the Delaware River through it. Despite the engineers best calculations, the flooding had failed, leaving the town a muddy wreck of ruined buildings, which the character visits as a teenager with her long-suffering father. Eerie, but as far as I can tell, not a true story. My Google search for the town of Lambeth, a forty minute drive from Phoenixville, PA, came up short. Double quirk.

My favorite line in the book is when the main character's grown daughter describes the murdered mother's knitting. "Why is it that everything she knits resembles vomit?" The narrator expands on the memory, "The girls were just entering adulthood, and that year, my mother had outdone herself, knitting a full-length sweater coat for each of them. She used a variety of yarns in a striated design, and sure enough, though it was meant to be autumnal in effect, the result seemed more intestinal." Funny. 

Reminded me of the mothball-scented, scratchy, wool sweaters my aunt used to give me and my cousins every Christmas. I am a knitter and with so many brilliant colors of yarn to choose from, I often wonder what attracts some people to the unappealing hues.

Clearly, The Almost Moon characters are complicated and flawed, and they wrestle with issues of mental illness. They are self-absorbed, odd, and tormented. I can relate. So I didn't mind spending a short period of time inhabiting their off-kilter world of matricide, suicide and self-indulgence.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie is another painful literary reminder of the sad fate of Native Americans in the United States. It is based on autobiographical details of the author's high school years growing up on the Spokane Indian Reservation in Washington state. Poverty, alcoholism, bullying, and overcoming devastating early childhood health issues are some of the challenges that face the main character, Arnold Spirit, who despite these obstacles never loses hope. With love and humor he takes on what life throws at him, takes risks, and embraces his strengths.

Thursday, June 30, 2011

The Art of Racing in the Rain

LEXILE 850

I'm more of a cat-person than a dog-person, and I'm not a huge NASCAR fan, yet I really enjoyed reading The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. Go figure.

I was easily drawn into the story about a mechanic/race car driver named Denny which is told through the insightful point of view of his observant and endearing pet dog, Enzo.

So many of life's heart-rending truths are captured in the pages of this strange little book. Enzo's thoughtful commentary on people and society is spot-on, and his philosophical comparisons between life and car-racing are often profound.

“Racing is about discipline and intelligence, not about who has the heavier foot. The one who drives smart will always win in the end.”


“There is no dishonor in losing the race . . . There is only dishonor in not racing because you are afraid to lose.”


“The race is long. It is better to drive within oneself and finish the race behind the others than it is to drive too hard and crash.”


“One can never be angry at another driver for a track accident. One can only be upset at himself for being caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.”


Enzo is a steadfast companion and witness to many of Denny's trials and tribulations, including ongoing financial problems, a family feud, and the death of his wife, Eve. Throughout, Enzo provides gentle support and humor as he passes judgement on everything from hospitals, pharmaceutical companies, and the decimation of the rain forest to euthanasia, loneliness, and the self-destructive nature of humans.

Enzo also has a great sense of humor. This is what he has to say about monkeys.

"Monkeys have thumbs. Practically the dumbest species on the planet, next to the duck-billed platypus, who make their dens underwater even though they breathe air. The platypus is horribly stupid, but is only slightly dumber than a monkey. Yet monkeys have thumbs. Those monkey-thumbs were meant for dogs. Give me my thumbs, you f-ing monkeys!"

The ultimate lesson shared by the dog who longs to be human and his devotion to his race-car-driving master is this gem:
"That which we manifest is before us. The visible become the inevitable. Your car goes where your eyes go."