"Frances and Bernard," by Carlene Bauer

A fictionalized version of the relationship between two famous writers? I am so there for a book like that! Actually the publicity for the novel “Frances and Bernard” (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2012), by Carlene Bauer, only claims that the book is “inspired by the lives of" Flannery O’Connor and Robert Lowell, a surprise to me. Like any good English major, I knew the work of each of these great authors to some extent, but did not know, or at least did not remember knowing, that they had a long, close friendship. This novel imagines that the relationship went further, into the realm of a romantic affair; however, everything I read to check on this says that in real life their relationship was almost entirely through letters. Notably, this novel is also written through letters, but the letters (between the two writers, and to and from their friends and editors) refer to many actual meetings between the two writers. So, although the story is based loosely on two brilliant and intense writers, the real pleasures of reading this novel are the explorations of the two fictional characters, Frances and Bernard, of their support of each other during difficult times, of their shared struggle with questions of religion and philosophy, and of that intangible, unclassifiable connection that sometimes happens between two people, irrespective of specifiable labels for their relationships. The writing is beautiful, and combines the pleasures of plot with those of character and of meaningful exploration of the complexities of life.

"A Blind Corner: Stories," by Caitlin Macy

The book-cover flap of “A Blind Corner: Stories” (Little, Brown, 2022), by Caitlin Macy, states that “this collection reclaims the absurdities and paradoxes of real life from the American fantasy of ‘niceness.’” Yes, it does. Words that I jotted down while reading this book included “biting,” “mordant,” and “caustic.” I also noted that I frequently winced while reading the book. Yes, I also wrote “observant.” And I noticed the collection’s interest in, and apt comments on, social class, a topic in which I am very interested; I also noted and appreciated Macy’s treatment of social class in two of her earlier books, both novels: “Spoiled,” which I posted about here on 4/26/18, and “Mrs.,” which I wrote about here on 7/2/18. But the stories in “A Blind Corner” lean too heavily on the absurdities, the mordant, the caustic, for my taste. Does this mean I want my fiction to be smooth, and not to be challenging? No, not at all. But my ongoing feeling throughout the current book was not, as the book-cover flap also claims, that “Macy foregoes easy moralization in favor of uncomfortable truths that reveal the complexity of what it means to be human.” Rather it appeared to me that she sometimes takes the easy way out, using her stories to negate, to shock. To my eyes, there was something not quite real about some of the situations portrayed. This is not to say that Macy is not a compelling writer – she is. And I admit that my reaction to this book could very well be a matter of taste, or even of my own mood during these difficult times. I did admire some of the stories, as I did the two earlier books mentioned above. But I was not sorry to reach the end of “A Blind Corner.”

Two Family Sagas: "Family Trust," by Kathy Wang, and "Marrying the Ketchups," by Jennifer Close

Family sagas! Novels that are well-written and full of engaging characters, family history, drama, love, not-so-much love, complicated situations, changing relationships – all the good stuff! As readers of this blog know, these are among my favorite types of novels. I have just read two recent examples of this category: “Family Trust” (William Morrow, 2018), by Kathy Wang, and “Marrying the Ketchups” (Knopf, 2022), by Jennifer Close. The first is about a Chinese American family living in the San Francisco Bay Area, and centers around various family members concerned about who will inherit money from the dying family patriarch. The second is about an Irish-American family living in or near Chicago, whose lives are focused on the longtime family-owned restaurant where most of the family members work. One of the draws of these books is their portrayals of cultural issues/values/practices; these are not generally explicitly highlighted, but are suffused throughout the novels. At a couple of points in each book, there was what felt to me like a bit of stereotyping, but only a bit. What came across more, as I read these two books one after the other, was the complexity of family relationships, the love mixed with the hurt feelings, distrust, and fractures. Both families have issues with health, money, and disagreements among themselves. There is arguing, there is suspense, there is bad behavior and good behavior. But in both books, despite many difficulties among family members, the strength of these families, and of the idea and comfort of “family,” comes through, not in a sappy way but just as an underlying truth. I felt that I was in good hands with both of these excellent writers who created families and worlds I happily spent time with. I will look for other fiction by each of these fine novelists.

Some Books I Have Read Recently but Haven't Posted about Before

I have mentioned before that I don’t write here about all the books I read. As you know, I read a lot (and lately more than ever because of life circumstances), and I don’t necessarily want to write about each book. Sometimes the book just isn’t that interesting or that good, nor so surprisingly bad that its bad quality would make it notable enough to write about. Sometimes I read the book just for fun, in some cases a “guilty pleasure” (although I don’t actually feel guilty about anything I read!), such as books labeled as “beach reads,” and I don’t feel any need to write about it. Sometimes I really like the book, but don’t have a good “angle” from which to write about it. Sometimes, for whatever reason, I just don’t feel like writing about a particular book. Or I have just read so many books that the list backs up, and although more of them might be “blog-worthy,” I need to pick and choose. You get the idea. Today, just to illustrate the above, I am listing (without comment, and in no particular order) a few of the books that I have read in the last two months that I haven’t posted about here. “The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo,” by Taylor Jenkins Reid. “Assembly,” by Natasha Brown. “The Candid Life of Meena Dave,” by Namrata Patel. “Write My Name Across the Sky,” by Barbara O’Neal. “One Fine Day,” by Mollie Panter-Downes. “Write for Your Life,” by Anna Quindlen. “High Wages,” by Dorothy Whipple. “Meant to Be,” by Emily Giffen. “Yerba Buena,” by Nina La Cour. “Rainbow Rainbow,” by Lydia Conklin. “Manifesto: On Never Giving Up,” by Bernardine Evaristo. “The Wise Women,” by Gina Sorell. “The It Girl,” by Ruth Ware. “The Angel of Rome,” by Jess Walter. Note that this list includes literary novels and short story collections, memoir, writing advice, mystery, romance, and mixed-or-hard-to-label genres. Most are very recently published, but a few (e.g., “One Fine Day,” “High Wages”) were written many years ago. All were chosen with care, and enjoyed and/or admired and/or learned from, at least to some extent (otherwise I would probably have abandoned them without finishing them), and served a purpose or purposes for me.

"The Vanity Fair Diaries 1983-1992," by Tina Brown

I recently read and thoroughly enjoyed Tina Brown’s insightful (and juicy!) portrayal of the English royal family from the mid-20th century to now, titled “The Palace Papers: Inside the House of Windsor – the Truth and the Turmoil” (Crown, 2022). I am not writing about that book here, except to say that it is entirely engrossing, especially for those of us (yes, I admit it) who are fascinated by the royal family (perhaps this is my Canadian heritage showing? My maternal grandmother used to keep a scrapbook about the royal family), despite some reservations about this ancient and quite possibly outdated institution. But reading that book reminded me of Tina Brown’s ability to draw readers in to her stories with all their delicious details. (She also wrote a book about Princess Diana which I have not read, only because I have already read so much about her). I then decided to read Brown’s 2017 book, “The Vanity Fair Diaries 1983-1992” (Henry Holt). What a treat! The English-bred and Oxford-educated Brown was chosen as the (very young) editor of the then-recently resuscitated glamorous magazine, Vanity Fair, and recorded her experiences during those years, not only with editing the magazine, but with all the attendant experiences as she moved from London to New York, became heavily involved in the intellectual and social life of that city (as well as of Los Angeles/Hollywood), started a family, became famous, knew seemingly everyone else famous, and – as briefly described at the end of the book – then became the editor of The New Yorker. I loved reading about the various authors and editors Brown worked with, the politics of publishing in the Conde Nast world, the intrigues, the glamor, the hard work, and so much more. Also of interest are Brown's comparisons of life and work in England and in the United States, and her comments on what it was like to be a woman in a high-level position in the publishing world. The book is chockful of delicious (but generally not mean-spirited) gossip, with wonderful details. I have been a longtime reader of Vanity Fair, and I admire the very purposeful journalistic mix that Brown created of politics, literature, art, popular culture, fashion, glamor, and much more. (She called it the “high-low” mix for short.) The magazine had (and still often has) stunning covers, and photos by, most prominently, Annie Leibovitz, and other esteemed photographers such as Herb Ritts. I was completely absorbed by the book, and hurtled through all 419 pages of it, never bored for an instant.

"Bloomsbury Girls," by Natalie Jenner

A very enjoyable novel about bookshops and about feminist struggle? I couldn’t resist that! “Bloomsbury Girls” (St. Martin’s, 2022), is by Natalie Jenner, the author of the wonderful “The Jane Austen Society,” which I wrote about here on 7/18/20. That novel was about a group of friends who were able to restore Jane Austen’s home in Chawton. (I still get chills when I think about Chawton, which I visited many years ago, and where I was overcome with awe and even became a bit tearful, knowing that I was standing where my idol had lived and written.) Some of the characters in the current novel were also in the earlier one, which took place a few years before, although readers of the current novel do not at all need to have read the earlier one. “Bloomsbury Girls” takes place in London in the post-World War II years, and focuses on the bookstore where most of the characters work, Bloomsbury Books. The three women who work there love books, and have many good ideas, but are frustrated by the sexism of the male managers and co-workers. So this is a feminist book, one of my favorite kinds! It is also full of intrigue, suspense, love, and secret relationships. Several famous women, including the author Daphne du Maurier, assist the women who work in the bookshop, and there is a palpable sense of women helping women to deal with the obstructions they all face, to one degree or another. There is, near the end of the book especially, a bit of delicious conspiracy among the women -- those inside and outside of the bookstore -- to bring about a triumphant major change in the situation at the bookshop. A truly satisfying and enjoyable novel!

"Lessons in Chemistry," by Bonnie Garmus

“Lessons in Chemistry” (Doubleday, 2022), by Bonnie Garmus, caught me by surprise, in a delightful way. It is an extremely feminist novel, not didactic at all, but makes its points in a biting but also humorous way. The main character, Elizabeth Zott, is a chemist in a time (the early 1960s) when the world of science was still not ready for women in science, at least not in positions other than menial ones, serving male scientists. Zott, though, never takes no for an answer, and through persistence, ingenuity, and belief in herself, is able to succeed. The novel is about more than this point, though, as it shows Elizabeth engaging with the world, with men, with what love (another kind of "chemistry") is or isn’t, and much more. This novel made me angry (but not surprised) on Zott’s behalf, and at the same time I was thoroughly engaged and even entertained. It is a unique, quirky, meaningful novel that I highly recommend.