The Girls by Lori Lansens

The Girls by Lori Lansens is one of those books I kept moving down in my to-read pile. Not because it didn't look like a great book, but because I just had to read other books for other reasons. I had a little time to spare while visiting family, though, so I got to read it (finally!). It's an adult book, but one that I think could have very high appeal to teen readers as well.

Rose Darlen is mostly the narrator of this book. She's writing her autobiography. That's not an uncommon thing to do, but Rose is somewhat of an uncommon person. She and her sister, Ruby, are craniopagus twins, joined at the head. Separation was never an option, because they share an essential vein. They come into the world on the day of a tornado that takes the life of a local boy, an event that ties them unwillingly to one of their neighbors. Rose and Ruby are raised by the nurse that delivered them and her adoring husband, who they refer to as Aunt Lovey and Uncle Stash. Lovey and Stash do everything in their power to always treat the girls as two separate people and encourage others to do the same. The Girls goes somewhat against the grain of what's popular in YA lit right now (not that it was ever intended to be a popular YA book, imho): Rose and Ruby are extraordinary people, but they get the most joy and meaning from ordinary events and things. In that way, it reminded me a lot of my all-time favorite book, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

What impressed me the most about this book was Lansens's ability to write distinctly in the two girls' voices. Lots of books are told in two voices, but few are told in the voices of two people who are so close physically and emotionally. Rose, whose goal in life was to become a writer, writes like someone who reads, with lusher phrases and a larger vocabulary. Ruby is no less intelligent than Rose, but her dislike of reading in favor of television leads her to more forthright language. I didn't always like the characters as people, but I found them fascinating from beginning to end. Definitely a great life-story book, even if said life is outside the realm of experience of almost every one of its readers.

The Help: You need it

I know it probably makes me uncool to blog about a huge bestseller, but I was never one of the cool kids, anyway.

The Help by Kathryn Stockett is a book that I might normally pass up. It's historical fiction, set in the early 1960s in Jackson, Mississippi. It's also most definitely women's fiction, which I've never thought was my thing. What got me to pick it up? First, I got it as a gift. Thanks, Mom! Second, the people I talked to who had read it said that what made The Help stand out were the voices. I'm a sucker for a great voice, so I picked up the book and now there's a day missing from my life (in a good way).

To be precise, the book has three voices: Skeeter, a white recent college graduate who is living at home in Jackson with no boyfriend and no job; Minny, an outspoken black maid with a talent for cooking; and Aibileen, also a black maid, who is devout and kind. When Skeeter is rejected for a job at Harper & Row, she is advised to work on her writing and really think about the stories she wants to tell. This leads to Skeeter investigating what happened to her beloved maid, Constantine, who stopped writing to Skeeter while she was away at college. In the course of finding out what happened to Constantine, Skeeter grows closer to Aibileen and decides that the stories she wants to tell are the stories of black maids who work for white families in Jackson. In the era of Jim Crow laws, just getting the maids together to tell these stories for the book endangers their livelihood. The women must meet in secret and when Skeeter's best friend Hilly gets wind of Skeeter's writing the book, she sets out to make things miserable for Skeeter. While Skeeter and Aibileen work hard to keep the book a secret, Minny is keeping a secret of her own: Her employer, Miss Celia, will do anything to keep her husband from knowing that she's hired Minny.

The voices make this book unforgettable, definitely, but I think there's another aspect to it, and that is that Stockett treats great human kindness as well as cruelty with equal care. She also stays far away from two of my biggest pet peeves in historical fiction, which are characters who rebel with twenty-first century sensibility in a time when they knew full well what the consequences could be for doing so, and forgetting that not everyone is super affected by every major historical event that comes along. Stockett always keeps her focus on the people, which I feel should be the focus of all good works of fiction. She gave her characters fascinating yet real lives, so they only needed each other to make for a great book. The setting is just as vivid as the characters, and it made me very glad to live in a time of air conditioning. No breakneck adventure, no zombie apocalypse, no torrid doomed romance, just an absorbing, thought-provoking story of three lives.

Peer pressure potato peel pie

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows (Dial, 2008) is a book I only read because of peer pressure. Everywhere I went, it seemed that people were talking about it. It's not the sort of book I seek out: epistolary, historical, some romance...those are three of my strikes. Because I am a literary lemming, I got out my library card and requested it. Skipping the flap copy, I dove right in.

Picture it: London, 1946. Juliet Ashton is a writer who made a name for herself writing columns under a pen name for the London Spectator. She's proud of her success, but a series of letters to her editor, Sidney Stark, show that she's at a crossroads. What should she write next? While Juliet ponders this, she receives a letter from a Mr. Dawsey Adams of St. Martin's Parish, Guernsey. Dawsey has a book of Juliet's, a collection of essays by Charles Lamb, and he just had to write to see if she knew where he could get more of Mr. Lamb's work.

A book that revolves around people who love books has to be good, right?

The letters between Juliet and Dawsey evolve into Juliet's correspondence with the members of the Guernsey Potato Peel Pie and Literary Society, which formed not as a literary society but as a cover for a group of people being out after curfew on their German-occupied island. Through their letters, Juliet learns that the people of Guernsey survived near-starvation and being cut off from the news during the war. In much the way that people form friendships over the internet today, Juliet forms bonds with the readers (and writers) of Guernsey. Her letters to her publisher and best friend are observant, funny, and inspiring. Guernsey goes on to become the idea for Juliet's next book, and the people are the kind of friends she's wanted all her life.

Before I read this book I couldn't have found Guernsey on a map, but now I'm intrigued by its story. For me, this was a "good writing trumps all" book, because even though I'm not the average reader of women's fiction or historical fiction, I stayed with this book because of the voices. The way Juliet fell in love with the people of Guernsey reinforces the power of the written word. The peripheral characters were most interesting for what they didn't relate to Juliet as much as what they did. (And I loved the character who wanted to be Miss Marple and decided she would knit and observe the world.) Books brought these people together, and books are how they relate to each other. That is something anyone who loves to read, librarian or not, can understand.

The Magicians: Like Quidditch, only real

Next on the list of Books I Wanted To Review In June But Didn't Get To: The Magicians by Lev Grossman. Everyone in the Columbia course this year got a copy.

If I were Twittering this review, it might go something like this:

Teen boy goes to magic school, graduates, goes to magical land 1st seen in fiction.

Problem: That wouldn't do a very good job of explaining this pretty cool book that, although it's published for adults, I think could easily cross over into the older teen market.

About the book: Angsty high school senior Quentin Coldwater has a most unusual experience when he goes for a college interview. The interview doesn't go as planned, but Quentin soon finds that he's got a college opportunity that's way beyond the Ivy League. After a series of headspinning tests, Quentin is admitted to Brakebills College, a school for magic in upstate New York. Brakebills is ten times as hard as any Ivy League school, and ten times as dangerous. Upon graduation, Quentin and his friends move to Manhattan, where their magical abilities enable them to lead a life of leisure. They also make the most exciting discovery of their lives: The magical land of Fillory, which they all know from the novels they read as children, is real. And they're going there.

Why you'll love it: It's escape-from-the-world fantasy for grownups. Grossman pokes fun at all the great children's lit that takes place in magical lands and incorporates it into Quentin's world. Quentin is hardly the most likeable character around (think Harry from Order of the Phoenix, with fewer caps), but I found myself so caught up in the Brakebills environment that I didn't care. Grossman does an amazing job with setting and imagining fantastic lands and creatures. He also twists the happily-ever-after. After graduation, Quentin and his friends aren't ready to begin adult lives; they're just as lost and confused as ever about what, if anything, to do with their futures. Love and sex are the source of sadness and anger rather than giddy happiness. Magic is not a cure-all for anything, though it does help maintain a certain lifestyle. This blend of urban and traditional fantasy, plus the beautiful cover, gives the book pretty wide appeal. (And you know it's got to be good if it's fantasy and I'm taking the time to recommend it.)

Lev Grossman's website || LA Books Examiner interview || review in the Washington Post Book World

Seasons don't Beat the Reaper

As much as I love YA lit, every now and again I just have to escape from that world with an adult book. Yes, here's my secret: I love adult literary fiction. Thanks to the wonderful people at Hachette Book Group's adult publicity department, I acquired a promotional copy of Beat the Reaper by first-time novelist Josh Bazell. It took me a long time to pick up, but once I picked it up I couldn't put it down. Lucky for the book, Numb3rs was pre-empted by the NCAA tournament this weekend.

The plot: This is not a book that is supposed to work, given all its elements of weird. Lest we get too caught up in current literary trends, there is not a single supernatural creature in this book, which scores big points with me. What makes this book weird is, well, everything else that goes on. The central character is Dr. Peter Brown, formerly known as Pietro Brwna, a former, and very talented, mob hitman. He's currently in witness protection, working at Manhattan Catholic Hospital. Take his word for it: ManCat is not a place you want to go when you're well, never mind when you're sick. It's just another day of making rounds when he enters the room of Eddy Squillante, a mafia member who recognizes him immediately. Squillante's in for some major surgery and doesn't know he's got a hack for a doctor. What he does know is that he's hit pay dirt. Before Peter/Pietro can stop him, Squillante's put in a call to the mob. If he dies during surgery, his hit men will be on Peter/Pietro regardless of who's at fault for his death.

Why you'll love it: With all its crazy side plots and the back-and-forth movement through Pietro's memories and his current dilemma, not to mention the footnotes, you'd think this book would just get too tangled in itself. Instead, it's simultaneously horrific and hilarious and kind of gross. Pietro has strong morals and has zero compunctions about causing violence if he believes it will benefit the smaller and weaker. Tied into Pietro's story are notes on north Jersey/NYC mafia history, a romance, and the unsanitary side of medicine. It's House meets The Sopranos sprinkled with bitter humor.

Is this a YA novel by any stretch of the imagination? No. But it's exactly what I needed, and what I was looking for. I'm a fan of Chuck Palahniuk and this is a great next-read for his readers.

Review in the NY Times || Interview with Josh Bazell at Three Guys One Book || Interview in New York Magazine

Reader's advisory for the reader's advisor

A funny thing happened on my trip to the bookstore.

I didn't know what to get.

I live not far from a very large Barnes and Noble, and I like to browse the YA section to make sure I'm not missing out on any of the hot titles. I figure if I've at least heard of all the books on faceout, I'm doing okay. Then I wander the adult fiction section and I feel thoroughly, embarrassingly, lost.

In my apartment that is really too small to hold all the books I own, I have five bookcases. No, six. Two of them hold YA fiction. One holds nonfiction. One holds children's fiction. One belongs to my husband and holds his science books and cookbooks. And one holds adult fiction and graphic novels. The adult fiction bookcase is noticeably less stuffed than the YA and nonfiction bookcases and studying it, I'm not sure what to think. I haven't read a work of fiction geared toward an adult audience in about a year. Part of this is the drive I have to do my job well; I review for three YA sources and that plus whatever else I want to read for my job puts me in the area of 125+ books a year, just YA. That doesn't leave a lot of time to read adult fiction. The other part, I think, is just that I don't know what to get when I want to read an adult book. I know the authors, don't get me wrong. I know James Patterson writes murder mysteries and Alice Hoffman writes literary fiction and Anne Rice is a bit of a nutjob. But I'm not one of those people who can definitely say "I like mysteries" or "I like Regency romances." When it comes to adult fiction, I know what I don't like (fantasy, Regency romances) , but I'm often lost as to what I do like. Most of the time when I read a book aimed at adults, I end up reading nonfiction. I found The Tipping Point and Freakonomics fascinating, and currently my nightstand holds Women and Money by Suze Orman, How to Walk in High Heels: The Girl's Guide to Everything by Camilla Morton, and The Numbers Behind NUMB3RS: Solving Crime with Mathematics by Keith Devlin and Gary Lorden.

That said, here's a sampling of some of my favorite adult books:

• The Lottery and Other Stories by Shirley Jackson (in fact, Shirley Jackson is probably my favorite adult author of all time)


• Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk


• A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley


• Waiting to Exhale by Terry McMillan


• A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith


• The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith


• The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison


• The Talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith

and other books I liked but aren't my favorites:


• Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen


• Light Before Day by Christopher Rice


• One for the Money by Janet Evanovich (I love humor!)

I'm also one of those weird people who love short stories: Ring Lardner, David Sedaris, Neil Gaiman, the aforementioned Shirley Jackson, Ray Bradbury, Amy Hempel, etc.

All of this leaves me standing in the adult section of your average bookstore or library feeling very dumb and kind of lost.

My husband is a huge fan of Christopher Moore (I got him hooked, oddly enough) and tells me his books are a must-read, so those are on my list. Other than that, I haven't got a clue as to what I might like. Joyce Carol Oates? I do like her YA books. Khaled Hosseini? Tom Wolfe? How is it that I'm so good at picking out books for other people and my personal collection of adult books looks like fourteen different people put it together?