I Am From Inspiration Poem

by Josias Alzamora Huff

I am from the outdoors. Where the willows weep and the trails wind.

I am from the industrial playground and the concrete pickleball court. The sun beats down on sunburned skin.

I am from potted plants and shelves of books. Overflowing everywhere they inhabit.

I am from Panettone and Arroz con Pollo. Christmas traditions never seem to change.

I am from every breed of dog. An endless surge of them.

I am from bonfires and roof tents. I am from novels and stoves. I am from mountains and caves and forests and lakes. I am from two houses and games and audiobooks and cakes. I am from the unconditional love of family and the care of friends.  

I am from a world with everything to offer.

I am inspired 

---9th Grade "I Am From" Poetry Assignment

Photo credit: Josias Alzamora Huff

Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry Continuation

Introducing the next generation of Huff: Shiloh Alzamora Huff 

In my sixth grade English Language Arts class we read Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred D. Taylor and we were asked to make a continuation (my idea of how the story would continue or end). Here it is:

"CASSIE!" Mama called from home, "It's almost dark and it's time to come home." 

Rats! School starts tomorrow. I thought I could enjoy a little more freedom, but I know tomorrow will be the same old routine: we wake up, walk to school, and see Jeremy. 

"Cassie!" I heard Jeremy's voice. 

"Jeremy?" 

"Hi, Cassie," he said, barely managing to get the words out. 

"Jeremy, are you okay?" 

"W-we're moving across the country, apparently," Jeremy whined. "R.W. and Melvin have been trying to convince my dad to move, and they finally got him to. They told my dad something about T.J., and he seemed scared." 

At the mention of T.J., my heart swelled. T.J. has been locked up for a while now, and he will never get out.  

"Anyway, I just wanted to tell you," he whispered before turning and running away, wiping tears from his eyes. 

“Cassie!" Mama yelled impatiently.  

I ran over to Mama and her wonderful cooking. 

At the dinner table, I told Stacey, Papa, Little Man, and Christopher John what happened with Jeremey and how they are moving across the country. 

As we got ready for bed, I could not help but feel a little twinge of sadness, and all through the night I thought of the good times I had with Jeremy and T.J. 

When I woke up in the morning, Mama told me that the school water main had broken and that we had to stay home for the day. So, I raced up to Jeremy's tree to see if he was there, but when I got there, they were all gone. Now Jeremy and T.J. were gone, and I was supposed to act like life was normal. 

"Cassie!" 

"Wha—Jeremy, is that you?" 

"Oh, thank the Lord you are here!" said Jeremy. 

 "What are you doing here?" I inquired. 

"I found out what R.W. and Melvin did. I told Dad, but he did not care or already knew. They should be the ones in jail, not T.J., so I told Dad, and he left me behind. So, I'm gonna stay in my tree." 

After a few seconds of staring at him like he was mad, I finally mustered, "But what about food?" 

"Well to be honest I don't know- whoa," said Jeremy. 

I grabbed Jeremy by the arm and started running home, so Jeremy followed. When we got there Jeremy explained everything to Mama. Mama told Jeremy that he always had a home here and so, on went life. But it was a life without T.J. 

The Long Way Home by Louise Penny is a balm for the soul

Evening on the North Shore by Clarence Gagnon

The Long Way Home (A Chief Inspector Gamache Novel) by Louise Penny is the tenth installment in the series. All of them I have loved (with the possible exception of #9). None of them have I written about, until now.

The reason may have as much to do with laziness as with my feelings about the actual books, or it may be that this one finally unearthed what it is I adore about Ms. Penny's novels.

In the Long Way Home, the author employs repetition of an old spiritual to coax the reader into the book: There is a Balm in Gilead.

There is balm in Gilead,
To make the wounded whole;
There's power enough in heaven,
To cure a sin-sick soul.

At first I thought it just sounded nice. But as the characters in the book repeated it, the deeper meaning began to surface. It felt like a meditation. I noticed that I was unwittingly repeating it throughout the day, and in the quiet moments before sleep. I wasn't sure exactly what it meant, but as the author asked me to explore its meaning vis a vis the characters, and as the story moved onward, I was liking the way it made me feel.

There is a balm in Gilead.

In the book, Ms. Penny talks about how art (mostly paintings - the characters' as well as Clarence Gagnon's, figure prominently is this story - but also sculpture, poetry and song) can convey a feeling. The art itself may be considered good or bad, may be misunderstood or defy understanding, but it is felt.

It finally dawned on me, THAT is why I love the Gamache books. They are good books. I've loved the characters, and the setting of the Quebecois village of Three Pines from the beginning. However, there is also something more, something I couldn't quite put my finger on, that attracted me to the books, seduced me. It grew stronger as I read the series.

The Gamache books subtly transmit feelings. Feelings about creativity, fear, hope, trust, love and redemption. Feelings about life, and something greater than that. I'm still reaching for words to describe it. I may be for quite some time.

There is a balm in Gilead. To make the wounded whole.

While the hymn is Christian in origin, I think it can be viewed through the lens of any religion or philosophy. I viewed it in a yogic way, as a mediation. I've just finished the Long Way Home, so what the meditation means to me will continue to expand. For now, it is a balm for this soul.

There is a balm in Gilead.

Photo credit: Irina

The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris held me in thrall

Etna Community Church in Etna, NY 

I'm a quick reader. I can usually get through a book in a few days to a week. The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris took me well over a month. It wasn't because it was a long book; it was less than 400 pages. It wasn't because I didn't like it, quite the opposite. It was because I was so overwhelmed by its tendency to move me, to leave me deep in thought and to crack my soul wide open, that I could only handle it in little bits. It held me in thrall.

The Cloister walk is full of life-altering ideas. My mind swims with where and how to begin talking about it.

Kathleen Norris, a protestant, became a Benedictine Oblate and spent a year at the monastery. Her thoughts on the Bible, its use of metaphor (and Americans' insistence on ignoring the metaphor and taking it all literally), and the impact of praying and reading the Bible communally forced me to reevaluate my own beliefs. And that was just the first few chapters. The book's effect on me was so immense that in order to get something down, which I feel I must, I need to start somewhere.

So, I'll share a couple of startling revelations:

• Praying is not about asking for stuff, nor is it necessarily about showing devotion to a thing, person, deity, etc. It is about reaching a meditative state such that I can drop the anger (or fill in your go-to negative emotion here), so I can better serve myself and the universe. I can begin to clear the path that walks me toward my calling, not to fill up my own cup, but to spread peace, joy and love.
• And, then, on a seemingly unrelated note: Poets may not know what they write. Yeah, go ahead, read that last sentence again. Whaaat? Hold the phone! This not only gives me permission to not understand poetry (I often don't), I would  say it necessarily follows that I don't get it. Furthermore, she says, that poetry is necessary and must be written and read. Whether we understand it or not, the poet and the reader often "know," on some level, its meaning.

While the second bullet may appear a bit out of sync with the rest of the book, Kathleen Norris is a poet by profession. She talks of the Psalms being poetry and having the same effect on the reader/listener/singer/writer.

She frequently quotes Emily Dickinson. My favorite was, "Consider the lilies is the only commandment I ever obeyed." As Ms. Dickinson was surely a pious soul, this is meant to tell us that even those that appear to be without sin are not. They are also not without humor.

Another quote really got me thinking. In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus says, "The coming of the kingdom of God cannot be observed, and no one will announce, 'Look, here it is!' or, 'There it is!' For behold, the kingdom of God is within you" (Luke 17:20-21). Akin to what I realized about praying, she drove home the point that knowing God is not about what church we go to (or don't go to), nor how little we sin. Knowing God is about becoming the person we were all created to be - a being full of love for oneself and others. Or, at least striving to become that person.

I don't know about you, but this stuff makes me tired. In a good way. A contented and peaceful way.

Photo credit: pastorbradetna

Life after the Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver

The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver is more than a vocabulary lesson (I'm not going to tell you, if you wanna know, you'll have to look it up). It is a work of historical fiction in which I learned more about ancient Mexican civilizations, the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia and the McCarthy era in the United States than I did in thirteen years of compulsory public eduction. I'm not knockin' school. I'm just sayin', either they didn't teach it or I wasn't paying attention.

Ms. Kingsolver got my attention and held it for near on seven hundred pages. As I began to read the Lacuna, I fell deeper under its spell with every page. Let me stop, though, because this isn't a review of the Lacuna. It is my (hopefully coherent) ramblings about how I decide which books to read and whether I end up liking them or not.

The tale begins when our protagonist is a boy, and we soon learn that it will end when he is much, much older. That kind of tale usually gets me right away. I love the epic. By the time we arrive at the house of Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo about a quarter of the way through, I was so entranced that I started to ponder: Barbara Kingsolver is one of my favorite authors, the Lacuna is the type of novel that has me ga-ga from the get-go, so if this book was released four years ago, why am I just reading it now? And really, I'm reading it as a last resort. I picked it up at a yard sale for fifty cents on a summer holiday for lack of anything better to read.

Then it came to me. About four years ago, as I was driving home from work I heard NPR review this book. Maureen Corrigan hated it (read her review here). I remember thinking that she was being a bit harsh and that she couldn't be talking about MY Barbara Kingsolver, but her words must have put doubt in my mind. Over time, I had forgotten this review, but I had also lost all interest in reading the latest work of an author I greatly esteem.

(By the way, I have since read a book of Maureen Corrigan's about how much she loves books. I loved it!  So, no hard feelings, eh, Mo?)

The reviews for the Lacuna weren't all bad.  Many "important" people liked it and it took first place at a few book contests. For me, it was one of those books by which I mark time - my life before I read the Lacuna and life afterward.

I'm sure there is no need to state the obvious for all you literary types and English majors (you can skip the rest of the paragraph). For all others, I'll state it plainly. How I feel about a book is very personal, and should not be based upon the opinion of others, no matter how fashionable or in the know said others might seem.

Thanks to Ms. Kingsolver, Ms. Corrigan and yard sales for driving that lesson home. Life after the Lacuna is good!

Do you base book choices on reviews or the opinions of others?

Photos credits: Urban Combing, Jose Antonio Gelado

Huff's summer reading

Now that I am home, full-time, with an infant and a three year old, I have precious little time to read. We are on holiday for the summer - and so is my reading. Hence, my lack of posts on Huff Reads Stuff. I still think about books, like, all the time, though. So, I thought I'd talk about some of my favorites and readers can take them or leave them as suggestions for something to read this summer.

Compiling this list felt monumental. For me, reading is an experience that I find difficult to describe (and yet I created a blog about it?). Each book I read changes me, or maybe helps me become who I am. I experience the place, time and characters in the book as if I am there. At times it is so intense, that it's a bit scary. I often go back over and over again, to visit what I felt as I read a book, both in dreams and in dreamier waking moments.

So, this is not simply a list to me, it is a reckoning; a walk through my past.

With that, I present to you Huff''s 19 favorite authors (I'm sure after I post this, I'll think of several more, so I reserve the write to edit):

They are in no particular order. For me, trying to put books in order of favorites would be like listing which child I like best - totally not cool. I also had a little trouble narrowing it down to specific books, so instead of dithering, I decided to just get something down and start with authors.

1. Walter Mosley - Series: The Easy Rawlins Mystery series - Black Betty is a good place to start; the Socrates Fortlow series - Always Outnumbered, Always Outgunned is my favorite; the Fearless Jones series; and the Leonid McGill series. Non-series: The Man in my Basement; Fortunate Son; and The Last Days of Ptolemy Gray. Do not, I repeat, do not, read his Science Fiction, nor his Erotica.
2. Margaret Atwood - Top 3: The Blind Assassin; The Handmaid's Tale; and Alias Grace. Add Moral Disorder and call it an even 4.
3. Louise Penny - start with the first in the Chief Inspector Gamache series, Still Life.
4. Jacqueline Winspear - Maisie Dobbs novels. Maisie is my soul mate.
5. Janet Evanovich - a bit lowbrow? I love all kinds of books and Stephanie Plum is crazy funny.
6. Jon Katz - all the dog books and the Suburban Detective series.
7. Sarah Dunant - several historical fiction novels (love, love, love); the Hannah Wolfe detective series; and Mapping the Edge.
8. Charlotte Bronte - Jane Eyre, hello!
9. Carlos Ruiz Zafon - Shadow of the Wind is his best, but they all put me smack dab in the middle of Barcelona pre-World War II. I walked the streets with Daniel. These books helped me appreciate that plot isn't everything. I enjoyed being inside it, regardless of what was happening.
10. Marion Keyes - Chic lit? Why, yes, yes I do. It's Ireland for Pete's sake.
11. Alexander McCall Smith - No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series; Isabel Dalhousie series; and Corduroy Mansions series.  I don't care for the 44 Scotland Street series, and I'm lukewarm about the Portuguese Irregular Verbs series.
12. Philippa Gregory - The Other Boleyn Sister has the most common appeal. I love the others too, but they may be a bit Anglophile for some. I have an unnatural obsession with the courts of Henry VIII, most likely due to past life stuff.
13. Marge Piercy - In college, the budding feminist in me could not get enough of her. I've read many of her books, my favorites are Gone to Soldiers and Sex Wars.
14. Alice Walker - The Color Purple; Possessing the Secret of Joy; Meridian; and The Temple of my Familiar.
15. Toni Morrison - I read all of her books, up until Paradise, at which time I had to stop. Her books haunt me.
16. Gloria Naylor - Mama Day and Bailey's Café are my favorites.
17. Barbara Kingsolver - The Poisonwood Bible; Prodigal Summer; and of course, Animal Vegetable, Miracle.  High Tide in Tucson is a good one, too.
18. John Mortimer - The Rumpole series; Felix in the Underworld; and Quite Honestly, because it is the only book I've ever read that starts with the letter "Q."
19. Edith Wharton - House of Mirth started it off for me and Mrs. Wharton. I also love The Custom of the Country and The Age of Innocence.  Edith Wharton herself is as fascinating a character as any in her novels.

I would love to hear about your favorite authors, so please comment away!

Photo credit: QuotesEverlasting

The Parishioner by Walter Mosley is not Easy

From what I've seen in the blogosphere, readers generally love Walter Mosley's latest, The Parishioner, which is offered to us as an e-book. Dear Reader, I do not feel the love. The best thing I can say about The Parishioner is that it's not terrible.

I like the concept. A no-name church in a no-name place with an unordained minister. The congregation contains sinners of the worst kind who have left their lives of heinous deeds behind and are trying to walk the path of righteousness.

Our guy, the Parishioner, has done some terrible things. Murder not even being the chief among them. His real crime is not caring about the lives he's destroyed. But once the pastor of the church with no name recruits him, he is a disciple. It's almost as if he is in a trance.  He leaves the life behind, becomes a newspaper delivery man and does everything the minister tells him in order to be delivered from his sins.

The story revolves around a mission the pastor gives the Parishioner. Help a fellow sinner atone for her sins by finding the now-grown boys she kidnapped and sold for adoption twenty three years ago. The Parishioner knows this mission is going to put him smack dab in the middle of the places and people that will temp him back into his evil ways. No matter, he's up for it.

There are several twists and turns. Everyone and their mother ends up being involved in the convoluted mystery of what happened to these boys. The Parishioner even dabbles in romance. 

There are some attractive themes here: can people change; is redemption possible; what exactly is religion, or faith for that matter?

My problem with all this? This character feels like Mosley put Easy Rawlins, Socrates Fortlow and Leonid McGill in the blender and poured out a smoothie called The Parishioner. I was somewhat entertained and mildly interested in the outcome, but in the end, I was seriously underwhelmed, and just kept thinking that the people, plot and scenery felt a little recycled. I expect more from Walter Mosley. I expect something or someone as good as Easy Rawlins.

There was one part of the book that I LOVED. The last few pages contained an excerpt from the new Easy Rawlins mystery due out in 2013. That's right, Easy lives!

Are there books you have read by beloved authors that have let you down?

Photo credit: BugMan50

Who and when is Thursday Next?

I'm not really one for Science Fiction. The only two Science Fiction books I've liked in my long reading career are The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, which is more dystopia than Science Fiction, and Kindred by Octavia Butler.  Although, come to think of it, The Handmaid's Tale is one of my all time faves. And, now that I'm writing about it, I don't know that I've read many more Science Fiction books. Maybe I do like Science Fiction?

Recently I jumped from two Science Fiction books under my belt to four. It's not often a reader squares the number of books they've read in any particular genre, is it? The verdict?  I loved my new finds.

The Eyre Affair and Lost in a Good Book are the first two in the Thursday Next Series by Jasper Fforde.  I happened upon the first book as I did a search for books about Jane Eyre. I didn't really know anything about the book, including its genre, but if it had Jane Eyre in the title, I figured it was worth a go. I hit the daily double when I not only loved it, but found out it was the first in a long series of books.

Thursday Next lives in London in the 1980s. It's not immediately clear what has happened to this world of ours, but things are different. Time travel is common, though highly illegal. Literature is one of the most important and hotly debated social and political issues of the time. Genetic engineering has left some strange creatures walking down the sidewalk. And, England has been engaged in a land dispute over the Crimea with Russia for the last hundred years.

Our girl, Thursday, is a veteran of the war and is now a Literary Detective. In the first installment, she is on a hot case that brings her face to face with her mortal enemy, Archeron Hades. This guy is sick. He possesses the power to change anyone's mind, he can't be captured on film and he delights in supremely evil acts. 

He has stolen a rare first edition and Thursday must get it back. Their game of cat and mouse leads them both into the original manuscript of Jane Eyre, where they have the power to change the plot, based on their actions and interactions with the characters. I loved getting to know Mr. Rochester off script.

A few subplots play themselves out as we progress: Thursday's long lost love reappears; we encounter her father (whose name she has never known) who is on the run from the ChronoGuard and keeps one step ahead of them through constant time travel; and Thursday must make some big life decisions, like stay in the big city or move back home to Swindon.

There are instances when the Science Fictiony parts of the story are tedious for me, and a few bits about the time travel and politics get confusing to the point that I began to skim. On the whole, though, it had everything I look for in a book: Jane Eyre, a strong female lead character, London and time travel. I can't wait to get the next Thursday Next from the library!

Do you have a favorite Science Fiction Book?

Photo credit: miss_leslie

The Last Days of Ptolemy Gray is life itself

I'm not secretive about my love for Walter Mosley.  I love him.  I love him.  I love him. So, one might be inclined to believe that I love everything about him.  Au contraire, mon frere. Like any good relationship, my love for Walter Mosley means I have to take the good with the bad.  I have not loved everything he has written.  In fact, a couple of his books bothered me so much that I considered breaking up with him. 

Fortunately, I did not act hastily and I wrote off Killing Johnny Frye and Diablerie as some very annoying habits that I decided I could live with. I'm not going to try to change him; I'm just going to accept him, flaws (and Johnny Fryes) and all. Today, our relationship is not only intact, it is stronger than ever.

Case in point, his latest work: The Last Days of Ptolemy Gray. Ptolemy Gray has a secret. It has to do with a pirate, his treasure and the location of a whole lot of buried gold.  Unfortunately, ninety-one year old Ptolemy can't quite remember where the treasure is buried, or if it is even real, for that matter.

When we meet Ptolemy, he has seen better days. His memory and reasoning skills are failing him. He has lost everyone he has loved. To keep his feelings of loss at bay, he cocoons himself inside his home with all the stuff he has collected throughout his lifetime. His apartment is not a pleasant place, though. The plumbing doesn't work and it is stuffed to the gills with trash and mementos. But what's really tripping him up is that he can never be sure where he is and whether he's merely dreaming about the past or actually reliving it. For Ptolemy, things have gone a bit haywire on the time-space continuum.

The only way Ptolemy gets by is a great-grand nephew that visits a few times a week to take him food shopping and use the toilet in a nearby diner.  As the story opens, this young man is murdered. Ptolemy suddenly feels a connection to the outside, present-day world that he has not felt for the last few decades.  He feels responsible for bringing peace to his nephew's soul by finding his killer. He must also find that treasure so he can take care of his nephew's family.

Ptolemy's only hope of making sense of all the memories, feelings and facts floating around in his head is a doctor he's heard about. He meets with the doctor and enters into a classic Faustian bargain.  If Ptolemy takes the doctor's drugs, he will regain clarity, understanding, memory and reasoning. He will also be dead within a week, and the doctor will take possession of Ptolemy's body for scientific research. Ptolemy decides that finding the treasure is worth his soul, so he goes for it.

What the reader experiences next is Ptolemy's journey through past and present, in which love, loyalty, justice and intellect don't need to conform to a linear construct of time. They just are, as we just are.  Through Ptolemy's odyssey, the reader has the opportunity to drink in the very meaning of life.

Does Ptolemy find the treasure? Does good win out over evil?  Does the devil take Ptolemy Gray's soul? If you know Mr. Mosley, you can probably guess that the answer is not a simple yes or no, but somewhere in the "Gray"ish middle.

I love Walter Mosley, I loved The Last Days of Ptolemy Gray and I love side-stepping the time-space continuum, if only for a couple hundred pages.

What are your favorite tales of Faustian bargains?  What did you learn from them?

Photo Credit: David Shankbone

My brilliant friend Maisie

I love book series. I appreciate their pace. With the first book in a series I get to know a little bit about the character and the author begins to draw me in to what will hopefully be a lifelong relationship. As I read each subsequent book, I gradually get to know my new friend. What I especially like about a series is that I am shielded from the sadness that usually comes with the end of a good book because I know that with the next, I will get to spend more time with my pal. 

I sometimes ponder what my life would be like without Easy Rawlins or Precious Ramotswe, two of my favorite book series characters. They mean a lot to me. They are my teachers. They provide lessons on what goodness looks like, how to make a hard decision and live with the consequences, and how to learn from history. They also make me laugh.  A lot. I measure a book's worth by how much I would like to live in it. If only they would ask, I would kiss my husband goodbye and move in with Easy or Precious in a hot minute.

My latest series-love is Maisie Dobbs by Jacqueline Winspear. I have just finished reading the eighth (and at this point) last book in the series: A Lesson in Secrets. What can I tell you about Maisie? She comes from humble beginnings. Her father was a costermonger in pre-World War I London. What, prey tell, is a costermonger? Exactly! This is why I love Maisie. She introduces me to all sorts of things that I wouldn't otherwise know about. And,  they are all worth knowing.

Her mother died at an early age and her father sent her into service. At her employers' home, Maisie not only worked hard, she also had the opportunity to discover a world of intellectual opportunities through the mistress' library. When she was caught reading books in the middle of the night, she was afraid she would be fired, but instead was offered the chance to be mentored by a great scholar.

While it may sound like a typical Cinderella story, it is most decidedly, not. Maisie's life takes many twists and turns, including a stint as a nurse in World War I. After the War, Maisie must regroup and put her life back together. She becomes a private investigator and psychologist. A large part of her success is the result of the careful cultivation and reliance on her intuition. Maisie doesn't solve cases on facts alone. She has feelings and understandings that go beyond what can be observed. Maisie possesses extraordinary ways of knowing.

Doesn't she sound brilliant?

The books aren't just about Maisie. They are about English society before and after World War I; the changing role and position of women in that era; and how people persevere in the face of devastating loss and poverty. Maisie Dobbs novels are about London and the English countryside and how new technologies (namely the motor car and the telephone) changed them both. They are also about those who have, those who have not and the consequences of injustice.

I hope you will introduce yourself to Maisie and become acquainted.  Please tell her Huff sent you.

Do you like book series?  Why or why not?

Photo credit: Author

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was not for me

Due to academic pursuits, I have been imprisoned in an ivory tower for these last two months. I was unable to engage in any activity not residing at the bottom of Maslow's triangle, including reading.

After fulfilling my sentence, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson, was my first read. Given its popularity, I may not need to justify my selection, but now having read the book, I feel compelled to do so. The first reason I chose this book was that I was at the airport about to board a plane empty-handed, and the airport book store had a limited selection. I was also curious what all the hype was about, and I don't recall ever reading a book set in Sweden.

We quickly learn that our man, a journalist, has been convicted of libel for a story he wrote about a billionaire's shady business dealings. He subsequently leaves his job as publisher of the magazine and accepts a contract position to write the family biography of an aging tycoon. He will also be looking into the disappearance of the tycoon's niece which occurred some decades ago. The job pays handsomely and seems easy enough, so he sets about his work.

There are many layers to what goes on next. The family he is chronicling turns out to be harboring a number of awful secrets, including more than its fair share of Nazis and alcoholics. Some of these secrets just might play into the disappearance and suspected murder of the niece. Through a contrived series of events, our journalist teams up with an unlikely private investigator (who happens to have a dragon tattoo). Their relationship develops into both a professional one, in that they both become obsessed with solving the mystery of the disappearing niece; and a personal (and predictable) one, in that they could be falling in love, or something along those lines.

A couple other themes emerge in the telling: the unmitigated corruption of industry and its leaders, supported by the collusion of investigative journalists; and ethical quandaries faced by writers when they are provided with incendiary material by anonymous sources. 

The mystery is interesting. It spans six decades and involves an intricate web of characters. So, yes, I enjoyed the unraveling of the mystery. But, the violence in the book is beyond what I wanted to endure. It is too much and it just keeps coming. It is gruesome, happens in unexpected places and frequent. I just kept thinking: please stop!

I've read that Mr. Larsson witnessed an extreme act of violence against a woman when he was young and spent some of his life trying to atone for not helping the victim. I applaud him for bringing the issue of the frequency and severity of violence against women to light, but enough already. 

The characters are the second problem I had with the book. In addition to the journalist and the girl with the dragon tattoo, there are a few other central players. Very few of them are likable, or even interesting. They lack depth and are fairly predictable. 

I can only recommend this book if you don't mind horrific violence, don't care much about characters and enjoy a good mystery. 

The original Swedish title of the book, translated to English, is Men who Hate Women. This is a far more apt title, given its content. I guess the publishers didn't think American audiences could swallow it. Well, this one couldn't.

Did you like The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo?

Photo Credit: katrineholmskommun

The Autograph Man is the last Zadie Smith novel I will read

Zadie Smith is one of those authors that each time I read one of her books, I make a promise to myself NOT to read another one.  Reading The Autograph man only strengthened my resolve.

Why then, is this the third Zadie Smith novel I have read?  Just like many questions raised in the book, this remains unanswered.

The Autograph Man is about some messed up people. Not "regular" messed up, like you and me. I mean they are OUT THERE. The setting is London. Alex is our twenty-something protagonist and his issue is that he can't get beyond the death of his father, who died when he was a teenager. Alex's mother is Jewish and his father was Chinese. His best friend is Black and Jewish, and his best friend's sister is his girlfriend, who he clearly under appreciates. The whole lot of them is into drugs on some level. Religion and faith loom large as an unspoken character in the novel.

I liked the premise. I was with her in the beginning. As we delve deeper, we accompany Alex on a drug binge, hanging out with his friends, avoiding his faithful girlfriend and pursing the object of his obsession, Kitty Alexander, a has-been Hollywood actress from whom he just wants an autograph. 

Alex and his friends have a lot going on in their heads about cultural identity. They are having a hard time figuring out who they are and how that affects their lives and their choices. They are struggling with faith, commitment, responsibility and grief.

All of these issues are interesting to me. But after raising these issues, Ms. Smith just leaves us hangin'. Her characters have some pretty deep things to say, but they only half finish them. She jumps from subject to subject, from problem to problem and we never really get anywhere. About halfway through the novel, I started to get that "where are we going and why are we in this hand basket?" feeling.

I was interested in The Autograph Man and his friends and what they had to say. I almost got a lot out of this book, but then, I just didn't. So, seriously, I am NOT reading anymore Zadie Smith novels.  This, I promise myself. Does anyone know when she has a new one coming out?

Did you read The Autograph Man? What did you think?

Photo credit:  Sweet Mustache

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan: Foot binding, love and a secret language

I was prepared not to like Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. Call me crazy, but foot binding and the soul-deadening drudgery of women's lives in ancient China just didn't seem like something I wanted to know more about. I hate it when I'm wrong. I loved this story.

We are drawn into Lily's life when she is a young girl. The story takes us through her childhood, which does include foot binding as well as a long list of abuses to which women and girls are subjected. But, Lily's life also includes a surprising joy: her laotong, Snow Flower. The author describes the laotong or "old same" as akin to a female soul mate. Stronger than the bond of marriage, a laotong relationship lasts forever, continuing even after death. Another bright spot in the women's lives is nu shu. This was a secret, written language, unbeknownst to men, in which women subversively communicated. 

Lisa See, the author, conducted extensive research in rural China on the history, use and revival of nu shu. I was fascinated. Women who were completely disenfranchised and thought to be as worthless as animals raised for slaughter, found a way to love and support each other. Their nu shu communications gave them an iota of hope that there may be things that make life worth living.

The story goes beyond sharing the cultural and political context of women's lives in 19th century, rural China. It is also a personal story of love, misunderstanding, regret and redemption. By the conclusion, Lily is a very old woman and has learned that being a true friend requires one to let go of prescribed roles and go beyond what is taught as a proper response to a given situation. In other words, if love is true, it must be unconditional. It is left to the reader to decide whether Lily learns this lesson too late.

It took me a while to get into this book, but by the middle, I was looking forward to reading more, needing to know what would become of Lily and her laotong, Snow Flower. 

Have you read Snow Flower and the Secret Fan?  What did you think?

Photo credit: Lucius Beebe Memorial Library

Tales that send shivers up and down my spine

I just started reading The Ghost Stories of Edith Wharton. This book was on display at the library, presumably because Halloween is upon us. I chose it for two reasons: 1) Edith Wharton is one of my all-time favorite writers, House of Mirth being at the top of my list; and 2) I have had a few experiences with ghosts, so I like to compare my experiences with other people's tales of the supernatural.

When I pick up a new book, I'm usually eager to start reading and I get impatient with forewords, prologues and the like. Ms. Wharton's preface caught my attention, however, as she began with the question, "Do you believe in ghosts?" Since I do, I was interested to find out what she had to say on the topic. One tidbit she shared was, "Ghosts, to make themselves manifest, require two conditions abhorrent to the modern mind: silence and continuity." She goes on to say that the only true measure of worth of a ghost story is if it sends shivers up and down one's spine.

Those thoughts called to mind an experience I had with another great writer, Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Although the story I'm thinking of isn't a ghost story, it is a sort of thriller and has elements of the supernatural.

When I was in graduate school, once a week, I had to drive two hours to class and two more hours back home. My commute included some pretty desolate locales on the border between New York State and Pennsylvania. Late one night, as I drove home, I was listening to a short story on tape, The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. This is a seminal work of feminist fiction about the role of women in society, the medical establishment's misdiagnosis and (mis)treatment of women, what happens when a woman becomes a wife and a mother, etc., etc., you get the idea.

I don't mean to belittle the social and political import of the tale, but on that night, The Yellow Wallpaper was nothing more than a story that scared the BEJEEZUS out of me. I was alone, in the car, in a dark, creepy, and seemingly-abandoned land. The narrator conjured Ms. Perkins Gilman's images of what lived on the other side of the protagonist's wallpaper: women crawling around on all fours trying to get out of the prison that was the wallpaper. 

The author may have intended the wallpaper to serve as a metaphor for women being incarcerated by a sexist society, but the only message I was getting from the story was: get home as soon as possible before the women start coming after me!

It might not sound that scary now, but had you been in Lisle, NY at 11:30 on that Thursday night, it would have sent shivers up and down your spine, too. As the story reached its climax, I was terrified. I checked to make sure all the car doors were locked. Then I thought, HELLO, the terror is inside my car, inside the tape player. Or, perhaps it is more accurate to say it was inside my imagination. I got home about an hour later, but I don't think I fell into sleep easily.

If you are familiar with The Yellow Wallpaper, you know there is a lot more to be scared of than the supernatural elements. The point of the story is more about what a terrifyingly androcentric society we live in, not really so much about the scary women crawling around behind the wallpaper. I will save that aspect of the story for another day. On that night, I was just plain scared out of my mind!

What have you read that sends shivers up and down your spine?

Photo credit: Totally Severe

Wordless Wednesday: Half a Huff reads stuff

The DC Metro: A Cornucopia of reading material

Many Washingtonians love living in the nation's capital. This country mouse, however, has a long list of gripes with this city. Chief among them is my commute, which is over an hour, both ways. The thing that makes it bearable is the fact that twenty of those sixty minutes are spent on the Metro, DC's subway system. That gives me forty minutes each day to read. As the mother of a toddler who works full-time and manages a household, I can say with confidence that if I did not have those precious minutes on the Metro, my reading time would plummet to nil.

It's not only MY reading on the metro that I enjoy, however. Whoever says that no one reads anymore, has not experienced the morning commute. I love riding the Metro to get a glimpse (this is the polite way of saying I'm nosy) of what others are reading. It's a veritable treasure trove of authors, genres and titles.

Today a young, stylish woman sitting across from me was reading a Karen White novel. The less stylish, slightly frumpy woman next to me was reading The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga. A bookish-looking dude a few seats down was reading Uncle Tom's Cabin. If I could only see what people are looking at on their Kindles, I'd be set!

I often look up the books that others are reading. I was previously unacquainted with Karen White and Aravind Adiga. Although they may not suit my tastes, and I may never get to read them, learning about new authors and books always excites me. Once in a while I stumble upon a jem. When I look around the Metro and survey what my fellow riders are reading, I silently thank them. Not only for adding joy to my commute, but also for unwittingly introducing me to new books.

Where do you get ideas for new books to read?

How I get my poetry

Much to my own consternation, I don't read poetry often. I really want to, I just don't know how. I mean, what do you do, check a book of poetry out of the library and plough through it? And, most poetry I simply don't get. What is it about? What is the poet trying to say? Is there symbolism that I'm not getting? Every once in a while though, I happen upon a poem that DOES it for me. It transfixes me, even transports me, in a way that usually only a novel can.

How does one happen upon a poem, you might wonder? In my case, it is usually a character in a book that points out a poem or a poet. In Alexander McCall Smith's Isabel Dalhousie series, Isabel loves W.H. Auden and is often reminded of his poems as she goes about her daily life as an Edinburgher, a mother, an editor of a philosophical journal, and a person who is well known for getting mixed up in other people's business. (For those, who like me, know precious little about poetry, you might remember W.H. Auden as the poet read during the funeral portion of the film Four Weddings and a Funeral. Think: He was my North, my South, my East and my West.)

I recently read A Trick of the Light by Louise Penny. Ms. Penny's Chief Inspector Gamache series includes a poet as a character. In addition to Ruth Zardo's poetry throughout the series, A Trick of the Light features a poem by Stevie Smith that was used to evoke the state of mind of one of the main characters in the story, Clara Morrow. I loved this poem, and as rarely happens, I also GOT it, so I thought I'd share:

Not Waving but Drowning

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

What do you think of the poem? Can you remember poems from books that you loved? Please share!

Photo Credit: Alvaro GL