Old School by Tobias Wolff

I found a copy of this book when we stayed in the Guest House of Davidson College (NC) over Thanksgiving break. "Required reading for 2009," a sticker on the cover proclaimed, and that was enough to convince me to grab the slim paperback and head back to the room. Also, it isn't a long book, and I was pretty sure I could finish it before our trek back south. The unnamed narrator attends a New England boarding school in the early 1960s; one of few Jewish boys amid a sea of WASPs, he works hard to disguise his background in order to fit in. Part of his assimilation plan is to win the school literary contest, judged each year by a famous author. According to the narrator, the winner of this contest attains ultimate Old Boy status; his own intelligence and valor would be unassailable should he succeed. Unfortunately, the boy fails at winning twice--Robert Frost chooses someone else's poem (deemed trite by the narrator), and his bout with flu precludes a writing submission when Ayn Rand is the judge. (He does meet Rand though, and his fever-laced description of her supercilious audience with the students is hilarious.) The third try at the contest is a hit, but only because the boy suffers a horrific case of writer's block and plagiarizes someone else's work. Submitting a short story from another school's literary magazine--a story about a Jewish teenage trying to fit into WASP society no less--the narrator suffers from little guilt because he feels he surely could have written this story. Indeed, as the weeks pass, he often thinks he is the real author--after all, the story sums up his deepest fears and dreams so well, the words are more his than the actual author's. A school master discover's the boy's deception, and what unfolds after that raises important questions about honesty and integrity, both literary and otherwise. This plot outline sounds deadly serious, but actually the tone and language of Old School is not heavy-handed at all. Indeed, Wolff manages to keep the reader chuckling about the foibles of youth and the often unworthy adoration we throw at icons. I loved this book--it reminds me of a droll Separate Peace or Catcher in the Rye.

Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen

With razor sharp wit, Rhoda Janzen skewers her life and serves it up to the reader in the delightful little memoir Mennonite in a Little Black Dress. Janzen, a professor of poetry, is a master of language--with the poet's trusty economy she uses just the right word at the right time--even her expletives are judiciously (if frequently) applied. Raised in a close-knit Mennonite family, Janzen wanted nothing more as a child than to escape a rigid religious world. After a string of bad luck in middle age, Janzen returns to live with her parents to heal and reflect...and to write. She balances her perspective between guilelessness and knowledge so perfectly that her childhood frustrations blend seamlessly with those of adulthood. (Her school lunch of borscht mortally embarrasses her; her husband leaves her for someone he met on gay.com.) But the most intriguing theme of the book is Janzen's love/hate relationship with Christianity. She is quick to poke fun (and it is fun to read, believe me) at Jesus lovers, but she can't help but swoon when she hears the old hymns. Mostly, Janzen's fondness for the Mennonite community she once fled comes through loud and clear.

Interesting note: Since writing this book, Janzen has remarried and undergone treatment for breast cancer. Also, she earned one of her degrees, a Masters in Creative Writing, I think, from the University of Florida just down the road a piece.

Many thanks to T.M for passing on this book to me. She always gets me the good stuff.

Best Book of the Year--The Help

After a year's worth of reading, my vote for the best book of 2009 is Katherine Stockett's The Help (see August 19, 2009 ). I've continued to ponder the book's messages, most notably that you never can be certain what another person is thinking, even if she is from your very own neighborhood. Talking with other readers about The Help has kept the joy of reading this book alive and well. Some older women have said to me that the book doesn't accurately portray the help/hirer relationship from that era--that these bonds were much more trusting and reciprocal than portrayed in the novel. Others have echoed this sentiment by taking the opposite position: The Help does indeed authentically demonstrate the early 60's friendships between maid and Mrs. It shows the very best case scenarios to the very worst. No one yet has come forth to volunteer a worst case scenario from her own past. Maybe such a story would be TMI in this day and age, almost impossible to discuss in a setting of tact. And that's why we read books, actually, to view our own lives through their gentle refraction, to discuss plot and character, when deep down we're really talking about ourselves.

The Painted Veil by Somerset Maugham

I haven't written anything about best books in a while, and my fans (all four of you, bless your hearts) are asking why not. The answer is, of course, time and laziness. Life has gotten a little busier--I've joined the hurly burly working world (and am the better for it), but when I have a free moment, I'd rather do anything but write. My reading time has diminished too, but I did manage to read Somerset Maugham's The Painted Veil this week. [I'm a fan of the 2007 movie version with Edward Norton (ooh la la) and Naomi Watts in the roles of Dr. Walter Fane and his wife, Kitty.] A spoiled debutante who's afraid she's past her prime, Londoner Kitty G. agrees to marry taciturn bacteriologist Walter Fane, who is totally smitten with her. As promised, he whisks her away from her dull life to Hong Kong where she promptly begins an affair with a suave government official. Kitty is disdainful of her husband, and when he discovers her infidelity, she doesn't conceal her scorn for him--his lackluster personality, subpar status, and pitiful devotion to her--and wants nothing more than to dismiss him and marry her lover. Kitty is naive in the ways of men, however, and she soon has no choice but to join Walter on a trip to a remote Chinese village, his ultimatum for her unfaithfulness. Walter has basically sentenced them both to death since the village is deeply infected with cholera. What happens to the couple in this village is transformational; stated simply, both learn about forgiveness under the harshest of conditions. The movie's ending differs from the book's. I must say I prefer the cinematic version--it's straightforward and sexy. The book's conclusion is a tad enigmatic, but essentially presents the same message: love without forgiveness is child's play.

MWF seeks great book

I was feeling guilty about not blogging more, but then I realized I've not read anything I would consider "a best book ever" lately anyway. I've read some good books but not any great ones (ihmo, of course). The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield was good, reminiscent of Daphe DuMaurier's Rebecca. I've been plugging along through George Howe Colt's The Big House and Ann Patchett's The Patron Saint of Liars. They're both fine stories, but I'm not really in love with either of them. I'm waiting for that next can't turn the page fast enough, never want it to end book. And I'm here to tell you folks, Atlas Shrugged ain't it. (I'm only on page 70 out of 1100.) Sigh.

A Man in Full by Tom Wolfe

I cannot believe I've only posted once in September. This month has been so busy; it seems I haven't had a half hour to spare. For those of you who know me personally, you know this type of schedule is not what I've been used to for the past decade. Working takes it toll, and unfortunately, this blog was the coin paid. I finally have a few minutes to spare and wanted to update everyone on my reading. I loved the book I'm So Happy for You by Lucinda Rosenfeld; it is a high-grade chick lit venture into the cattiness that simmers then boils between childhood friends. Rosenfeld's writing is wry, dry, and satirical. A well-known American author who is a master of satire is Tom Wolfe. Best known for The Right Stuff (non-fiction about America's space program), Wolfe has also written several engaging novels. A Man in Full (his 2nd novel ) concerns aging Atlanta mogul Charlie Croker and the entanglements of his ever complicated life. Everybody seems to demand something from Charlie--friends, business rivals, employees, ex-wives, children, etc. Someone always seems to want a pound of flesh. Can Charlie Croker survive the stresses of the modern day man? Read Wolfe's large, blowsy book and find out.

P.S. Wolfe's I Am Charlotte Simmons is also excellent.

Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks

Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks fictionalizes a true story of a village racked by bubonic plague in rural England in the 16oos. No stranger to tragedy, the maid Anna Frith narrates the story of the town's relegation to "plague village"and the ensuing isolation and terror. I loved this book because it shows how love and community can endure and strengthen, even amid the horror of the Black Death. Brooks doesn't hold back in describing the plague's symptoms--this trait was reason enough for me to read the book. (I have a bit of a fascination with "disease fiction" or "symptom stories.") One can't help but feel superior that the poor souls never connected the outbreak to fleas. However, the reader feels nothing but admiration for the villagers' will to survive, to endure in their encapsulated, self-sufficient world. Not a difficult read by any means, I recommend this book as great historical fiction, containing a modicum of modernity (the characters seem extremely psychologically evolved by 17th c. standards). And, if you're a plague buff, you must read it. The bubos are a sight to see in your mind's eye.