"Secrets of Happiness," by Joan Silber

I have enjoyed Joan Silber’s fiction in the past, so when I saw that she had a new novel, “Secrets of Happiness” (Counterpoint, 2021), I immediately obtained a copy. The story is mainly set in New York City; its characters include some with roots in Thailand (especially) and Nepal. The main character, Ethan, finds that his father has long had a second family, a Thai woman and her two children, also living in New York. Then Ethan himself becomes involves in a triangle, as he and his male lover stay with his lover’s former longtime lover to take care of him through his serious illness and then death. So there are several overlapping stories, and each character has the chance to give her or his thoughts and feelings, in alternating chapters. This reminded me of Silber's two most recent books, “Fools” and “Improvement” (see my posts of 6/11/13 and 2/11/18), which also have separate semi-interlocking chapters for different characters and stories. The chapters in “Fools” are the most separate, almost like independent short stories, some of which happen to feature the same characters. The chapters in “Improvement” are more directly connected. And the chapters in “Secrets of Happiness, although each is titled with the name of the character through whose eyes we are being told the story, are even more explicitly connected. It is if these three books traverse a continuum from a related short story collection to an almost-novel. I savored all three of these books, but I liked the current one, “Secrets,” the best, and I think that is partly because of the more explicit connections among the stories. Perhaps I am old-fashioned in this preference. But I do think that because of it, the novel, its plot(s), and its characters will stay with me longer than those of the other two books. In any case, as evidenced in all three books (and in her earlier books that I read before I started this blog), Silber is gifted at portraying characters, and at illuminating the often-tangled relationships among them.

Guest Post: A Shakespeare Reading Group, by Johnnie Johnson Hafernik

I am pleased that my longtime colleague and friend Johnnie Johnson Hafernik kindly agreed to my request that she write about the Shakespeare Reading Group that she co-founded and organizes. Thank you, Johnnie! Here is her post: Over five years ago a friend and I attended an informative and engaging long-weekend seminar near Yosemite entitled “Shakespeare and Opera.” I was attracted by the “opera” theme but left not only still passionate about opera but reminded of how much I enjoy Shakespeare. That weekend my friend and I decided to form a Shakespeare reading group. We easily convinced two other friends to join us as core members, with a few others who occasionally attended. Today, the group has grown to eight. Sadly, our most passionate and knowledgeable (about Shakespeare and much more) founding member, B., died last year. Early on, B. gave each of us Tina Packer’s "Women of Will: The Remarkable Evolution of Shakespeare’s Female Characters." The book has been invaluable for our discussions. We miss her. At each meeting, we decide by consensus which play to read for the following meeting. In preparation for meetings, our group has evolved from initially each of us choosing a passage to discuss from the selected play and a character we’d like to play to a more free-flowing and wide-ranging discussion. Each of us has our own way of preparing for our discussions, but we’ve found it especially helpful to listen to an audio version of the play and/or to watch one or more versions of the play, many available for streaming. Our go-to versions are the mid-1980s BBC productions of all the plays; adaptations of the play (e.g., "Throne of Blood," the Kurosawa film adaptation of "Macbeth"; operatic or musical versions such as "West Side Story"/"Romeo and Juliet"); podcasts and commentaries; and novels that are modern retellings of Shakespeare plays from The Hogarth Shakespeare Series (e.g., Margaret Atwood’s "Hagseed," a retelling of "The Tempest.") Our enthusiasm for our discussions and appreciation for Shakespeare have only increased over time. We leave each meeting energized, full of questions, and reminded of his greatness. Even plays some of us were initially not interested in reading capture our attention and spark discussion. Each play offers much to appreciate and explore: the beautiful language, the phrasing, the songs, the structure of the play, the humor, the vivid characters who often resemble well-known and not so well-known individuals, the questions and themes presented, and much more. Perhaps most important, we have found “today” in each play — situations, people, circumstances, motivations, questions of right and wrong. Stephen Marche in his book "How Shakespeare Changed Everything" (a book that B. highly recommended) draws attention to these themes, and to the complexities of life, when he writes that “Shakespeare is a messy writer with a complex view of morality whose conception of the universe is a bottomless, shifting ground” (p. 133). Marche goes on to argue that Shakespeare “recognizes the messiness of life as does no other writer, but it comes at a cost of an easy understanding of life’s ultimate purpose” (p. 135).

"Miss Austen," by Gill Hornby

Most people who know me in person and/or through this blog know how much I love and admire the novels of Jane Austen, each of which I have read many times. I also enjoy some – although not all – of the “take-offs” of her work: prequels, sequels, books about one or more of her characters, and other permutations. I have also read several biographical and critical studies. The most recent Austen-related novel that I have read is “Miss Austen: A Novel of the Austen Sisters” (Flatiron, 2020), by Gill Hornby (sister of the author Nick Hornby). The main character is Jane Austen’s dear, very close sister, Cassandra Austen; the novel imagines her late in life as she tries to find and destroy any letters or other materials that might tarnish her sister Jane’s reputation and legacy. (In fact, Cassandra did in real life destroy such letters and papers.) The novel goes back and forth in time between Cassandra’s old age, long after Jane has died, and their earlier times together. This is a serious book, and I respect the work. I admit that it took a while for me to be drawn into the novel, which is quite “slow,” but gradually I became more caught up in it. The characterizations of Cassandra and Jane, and of their relationship, are of interest; the other characters portrayed – various relatives of the Austen family – are minor characters of minor interest. I am glad that I read “Miss Austen,” and I recommend it to other devotees of all things Austen, but perhaps not to people with less focused and less intense interest in the author and her work. Finally, Austen’s writing is so much a work of genius that almost anything written about her or about her characters pales in comparison.

RIP Beverly Cleary

I was one of the many, many children who loved Beverly Cleary’s books about Ramona Quimby, her older sister Beezus, Henry Huggins, Otis Spofford, and this author’s other indelible characters. Cleary, a librarian, had children ask for books about “kids like us,” so she started writing about kids and situations based on her own childhood in Oregon. Cleary’s books are relatable and funny, and readers feel they know her characters personally. The books have obviously had a wide appeal; 91 million copies of her books have been sold. The books have been translated into more than a dozen languages, and have won multiple awards. As a child, I loved the Ramona books, but the book I felt the closest connection with was “Ellen Tebbets.” Ellen had a secret: her mother made her wear long underwear, and when she changed for her dance class, she was petrified that others would find out. I don’t know why I particularly related to this book or to this situation, but I do remember to this day that the book made me feel like an insider, the one who knew the secret, and I did not want anyone else to know it. I had no idea that millions of other young readers also knew the secret; instead, it was as if Ellen had confided in me, and only me. I was sad to hear that Cleary had died on March 25, 2021, at the age of 104. What a great legacy she left! (Note: thanks to Hillel Italie of the Associated Press for some of the details I have written about here.)