"The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake"

"The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake" (Doubleday, 2010), by Aimee Bender, tells the story of a young girl, Rose, who discovers she can taste the emotions of the person who made the food she is eating. Emailing with my friend C., I discovered that we each, independently, had read reviews of this novel and were resisting reading it because it sounded gimmicky. I, however, had seen it in the library and something made me pick it up anyway, thinking I could always stop reading it if I didn't like it. To my surprise, I found the book entrancing, thoughtful, sensitive, and beautifully written. The "gimmick" of the story, Rose's ability to taste emotions in food, is really only a fresh way to explore the feelings of a young girl growing up in a family where there is much love and support but also much sadness and many secrets. Rose's father is loving but has trouble communicating, her mother is devoted but dissatisfied and vague, and her older brother is a genius who lives in his own little world of the imagination. Each character is quirky and complex, and often baffled by her or his life. I grew quite attached to Rose and her family, and was touched by the surprising, bittersweet ending. I have now pressed this book on C., and would like to press it on you as well.

"Major Pettigrew's Last Stand"

"Major Pettigrew's Last Stand" (Random House, 2010). Isn't that a great title? I know that I often post negative or mixed "reviews" of novels here, but today I wholeheartedly recommend this novel by Helen Simonson. The setting is a small town in England: Edgecombe St. Mary (another of those great British names), in the present. The main characters are Major Pettigrew and Mrs. Ali, the neighbor with whom - despite obstacles - the Major develops a friendship and then a romance. These two characters are very likable and complex; they, along with the other characters, are beautifully drawn. The plot is interesting and well-constructed; it, along with the characters, kept me eagerly reading. Village England, besides being the setting, is practically another character in this novel. Although it has many of the characteristics we Anglophiles are so familiar with, in fiction if not in actual close-up knowledge, it is more complicated than its usual portrayal. The author is not afraid to show not only the good points about England and about village life today, but also the defects, such as prejudices, materialism, and lack of respect for the past. Although in some ways the novel has a strong flavor of the past, it also acknowledges how England is changing and becoming more multicultural; this acknowledgment is, happily, more than lip service. But the major (so to speak!) drama and draw of this novel are the internal struggles and changes that the noble but very human Major Pettigrew goes through during the course of the narrative. Please find and read this wonderful novel!

I Love My Built-In Bookcases

Four years ago, when we were house hunting but I was briefly out of town, my husband told me about a house he had found and was excited about. The main draw was the location and the view. But knowing me and my devotion to books very well, he also told me of an added inducement: "It has built-in bookcases!" When I got back from my trip and saw the house, I loved it as much as my husband did, for many reasons, and one was those bookcases. They are floor-to-ceiling, with an abundance of space for many books. Of course I love bookcases in general: at home, in my office at the university, anywhere.... But there is something extra special about built-in bookcases. They are an integral part of a room, a sign that someone made books a priority when the house was built. They are so solid, so permanent. Readers, we bought the house and moved in very soon after. And one of the very first things I did when we moved in was to arrange my books on those magnificent, roomy built-in bookshelves!

Maisie Dobbs is Back

Although I have been a lifelong reader of mysteries (see my 1/27/10 post), I have "gone off" mysteries a bit the past couple of years. However, the publication of a new Maisie Dobbs mystery, "The Mapping of Love and Death" (HarperCollins, 2010), by Jacqueline Winspear, lured me back to the world of mysteries. This novel, the seventh in a wonderful series, all of which I have read, is as compellingly readable as its predecessors; I read it in one day. The series is set in England, post-World War I. Maisie Dobbs came from poverty but was discovered to be unusually bright, and with support from some rich patrons, received an excellent education, served as a nurse during the war, and now has her own small detective agency. In this most recent story, she is asked by an American family to find out information about their son's last weeks before he died in France during the war, and about a woman he had met before his death. In the course of unraveling an ever more complicated mystery, Maisie also deals with large changes in her personal life. If you enjoy mysteries, and you haven't yet discovered Maisie Dobbs, I urge you to find and read these novels about her, preferably starting with the first one, titled simply "Maisie Dobbs." I am guessing you will then be hooked, and will have the pleasure of the next six novels in front of you! If you are, on the other hand, already a Maisie Dobbs fan, you probably don't need my urging to find and read this latest installment of her story.

Stockpiling Books: A Unique Twist

In today's New York Times Book Review's back page essay, "My Backlogged Pages," John Feffer writes of the great stocks of books, many unread, that he has on shelves and in boxes. What distinguishes this story from others about voracious book buyers and readers is that Feffer bought most of these books when he was a teenager. To quote him: "I made these purchases three decades ago...in the initial phase of my love affair with books. It all took place at a book sale that happened one weekend a year...in a church around the corner from my house in suburban New Jersey." He goes on to tell of his excitement about the sale, and of his buying piles of books of many genres, all at less than 25 cents per book, and at the end of the sale, at $1 for all the books one could fit in a box or bag. He has been reading those books ever since. Looking back now, he says that "I still may not finish all the books....But I could never sell them or give them away. They are not just books, after all. Provided I hold on to this library, I can still pretend that I will be all the people that I imagined I would be as a teenager, as I wandered the church book sale and selected gifts for my futures selves." I urge you to read the full essay; the URL is below.

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/13/books/review/Feffer-t.html

"Boys and Girls Like You and Me"

A new book. "Boys and Girls Like You and Me: Stories" (Scribner, 2010). By Aryn Kyle. Boys. Girls. Young people. Trauma. Drama. Divorced parents. Cruelty. Alienation. Sex. Joyless sex. Affairs. Tenuous relationships. Breakups. Desertion. Smoking. Lots of smoking. Drinking. Lots of drinking. Shoplifting. Meaningless jobs. Confusion. Halfhearted suicide attempts. Temporariness. Carelessness. Uncertainty. Angst. Lots of angst. Well-written. Recommended.

Consistency is the Hobgoblin....?

I often say that I will not read books electronically, on Kindle, the IPad, or the like. I feel very strongly about this (although I may have to eat my words at some point, as I have had to before regarding various technological advances). I want books to be published on paper, and I want to read them the old-fashioned way; I think giving up that experience would be a terrible loss. But I was thinking this morning about how much time I spend reading other things online: e-mail, Facebook, blogs, websites, news publications, journal articles when I am doing research, etc., etc.). Not to mention writing this blog and being glad when people read it online! I guess I am not as much of a purist on this topic as I like to think. Sigh. I still think that reading novels electronically is a very different thing than reading email, blogs, etc. But finally, perhaps my only defense is Ralph Waldo Emerson's famous words: "A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds."