How I Decide What to Read

People sometimes ask me how I decide what to read; here are some answers. Sometimes friends tell me about a book they loved, and/or think I will enjoy. I often browse in bookstores and libraries. I always watch out for new books by my favorite authors. However, the most common way I learn about new books, and choose what to read, is by reading many book reviews in many publications. For example, I subscribe to The San Francisco Chronicle, The New York Times Book Review, The New Yorker, New York, San Francisco, The Atlantic, The Nation, The Progressive, Ms., Threepenny Review, The Women's Review of Books, and Vanity Fair, all of which publish book reviews. I also get publications from some local bookstores, notably Book Passage and Books, Inc., with suggestions of recommended new books. If I see a review of a book that looks as if I would like it, I immediately jot the title down and, most often, request it at my local library. Or if it looks like a must-have/must-keep book, I go to a local independent bookstore and buy it. If a book looks as if it could be interesting, but I am feeling ambivalent about it, I often wait to run across another review, or look up reviews online, before I decide if I want to read it. In other words, I always have my antennae up, looking for great new titles to read!

"The Mechanics of Falling"

Bursting with unique and yet somehow very recognizable characters, "The Mechanics of Falling and other stories" (West Word Fiction, 2009), by Catherine Brady, is a wonderful collection of engrossing short stories. Most of the stories are set in or near my "home town," San Francisco, which is always an added pleasure for me. Two words kept occurring to me while reading this collection. One was "dense": the stories are intense and full, with no wasted words. The other was "uncoiling": each story gradually - or sometimes suddenly - uncoiled itself into a revelation, a new understanding. Highly recommended. And I am proud to say that the author teaches at the same university I do.

On another note: It has been exactly six months today since I started this blog. I have been very much enjoying writing it, and hope to continue for some time to come. Thank you, Mary, for suggesting it. And thank you, all of you who have been reading it, either occasionally or regularly. Additional thanks to those who have commented, either on the blog site or in emails to me (vandricks@usfca.edu). If you like the blog, please keep reading, and please tell your friends, family, and reading group members about it.

Too Painful to Read? Your Call...

"The English Teacher" (Atlantic Monthly Press, 2005), by Lily King, is a novel about some very painful events, starting with the revelation of a traumatic event and continuing with the destructive effects that last for years after. The author bravely gives us a not-very-likable main character, Vida, and when we understand why she is the way she is, we (or at least I!) feel very sorry for her but still have trouble connecting with her. This paradox may be why I alternately raced ahead with the book and then stopped dead, resisting reading further, and then gradually became re-engaged with the story. Several of the other characters are very sympathetic, particularly the other main character, Vida's teenaged son Peter; the author's portrayal of Peter's feelings and experiences is extraordinarily astute. This is also a compelling and at times touching story of the attempted melding of two families when Vida marries a man with three children. In summary, the story is painful but rewarding, so I can't simply recommend it without reservations; I can say, however, that it ends on a hopeful note.

Ode to Alice Munro

I know I have mentioned my admiration of Alice Munro before, but having just finished listening to one of her short story collections on CD -- "The Love of a Good Woman" (BBC Audiobooks America, 1999) -- motivates me to devote a post to her. I have read almost all of the work of this Canadian author who is an accomplished novelist but is best-known for her short stories. This particular collection includes stories set in Vancouver, where Munro spent some of her earlier years, and those set in rural Ontario, where Munro has lived for many years and where most of her stories are set. All Munro's stories are very character-focused, and the characters they focus on are what we might call "ordinary," not being urban, flashy, or particularly "successful" (no Manhattanesque young professional types!). For just a couple of examples from "The Love of a Good Woman": a mean, trapped-by-gender-expectations small-town landlady; a young, pregnant musician whose husband has died in the war and who lives with his judgmental sisters. The stories usually start with seemingly ordinary, everyday scenes and matters, but as they unfold, they surprise readers, sneaking up on us and without fanfare revealing events and issues that are far bigger. A word I think of when reading Munro is "fresh," because each story is original and usually surprising, not in the cliched O. Henry surprise-ending way, but in the way of making readers see life and people afresh. Munro is not afraid to show us the "underbelly" of "ordinary" people's lives; in fact, often her stories contain a sense of unease; some even produce a slight touch of the ominous. Yet the overall feeling of her stories is neither negative or positive about life, just very real. Yet all of this is done without showy writing or pyrotechnics; in fact, her stories are often deceptively simple. I wish I had adequate words to convey the richness of Munro's writing and the rewards of reading her work; I can't do her work full justice here, so I can only urge you to find and read one of her short story collections: I suggest beginning with "Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage" (2001), "Runaway" (2004), or "Too Much Happiness" (2009).

"The Lovers"

Yvonne confronts loss, but also reflects on love, dissects love, experiences love, is pained by love, is let down by love, doubts love, is reassured by love, is supported by love, is pierced by love, and is surrounded by love: love from the past, love in the present, marital love, family love, love of new acquaintances, love of children, love of nature. The book is "The Lovers" ((HarperCollins, 2010), by the San Francisco writer Vendela Vida. Yvonne's reflections and experiences take place in the faraway country of Turkey, where as an American widow she has gone to remember her late husband and their honeymoon there almost thirty years before. In her rented house at the beach and in surrounding areas, her reflections are complicated by worries about her adult children, as well as by the various characters she encounters, influences, and is influenced by, with results varying from loving connections to great loss. Confused and overwhelmed by events past and present and by her own feelings, Yvonne is finally buoyed up by the love of her family and by her own inner strength. As I write this, I realize it sounds as if this novel is a sentimental, "inspiring," "I will survive" sort of book. But "The Lovers" is much more complex, more original than that. The story is both very specific in its details and universal in its portrayal of grief and love. Recommended.

Sex, Intrigue, and Women's Lives in 19th Century England

My new friend T. highly recommended "The Sealed Letter" (Harcourt, 2008), by Emma Donoghue. I am not a huge reader of historical fiction, but after starting this novel and then not being able to put it down until I finished it, I completely agree with her recommendation. Set in 1864 in London, the novel is loosely based on a true case of a notorious sexual scandal and divorce at a time when divorce was extremely rare. The novel portrays the limited lives and rights of women at the time, and the rigid constraints on their behavior -- the main "theme"; in addition, it portrays the small community of women working for women's rights, the psychologically complex interlocking lives of the four main characters (including one very manipulative character in a beautiful guise), the insidious influences of evil on innocence, the sexual mores of the time, and the intricate British legal system. But beyond being "about" the topics above, this is a gripping, suspenseful novel with surprises around every corner, up to the very end of the novel. "The Sealed Letter" is very well-written, by an author in complete command of her material.

"Bad Mother"

Berkeley writer Ayelet Waldman (whom I once briefly met at a bookstore event) believes in honesty, even when it draws harsh criticism from the public. She is famous (notorious?) for an essay in which she stated that she loves her husband, writer Michael Chabon, more than she loves her children; many people vociferously disapproved, and made sure to let her know of their disapproval. This experience, although painful to her, did not stop her from writing equally honestly and openly in "Bad Mother: A Chronicle of Maternal Crimes, Minor Calamities, and Occasional Moments of Grace" (Doubleday, 2009). She writes about motherhood, sex, marriage, co-parenting, abortion, being bipolar, work (she is a Harvard-trained lawyer who stopped practicing), being a stay-at-home mom, being a writer, the pressures that so many women face in trying to balance work and parenting, both appreciating and throwing up her hands at the exacting and unrealistic standards promulgated by "Berkeley mothers," hopes for her children, and more. Most mothers want and need to feel they are excellent in that role; it takes a lot of courage to admit publicly that although she dearly loves her children, she is not a perfect mother, and further, to detail the ways in which she is not. I should note that it is clear that overall she is doing fine, and that her children, despite some bumps in the road, are doing more than fine. This book is brave, candid, humorous, and even inspiring. It is also very readable.