bookpagedev

Review by

All love is ambivalent, said the playwright Tony Kushner, and ambivalence kills. The tales in Alice Munro’s The View from Castle Rock are full of that sentiment. This 13th collection, which the 75-year-old Munro has said will be her last, is a departure in that the stories aren’t wholly fictional. They’re based on what Munro imagines to be the experiences of the Laidlaw family, her father’s people, who emigrated from a Scottish parish that possesses no advantages to find an only marginally less hardscrabble existence in Canada. Thus, some of the stories have an unfinished feel about them the saga of the Laidlaws continues, after all. Though Munro begins her tales with a jovial account of her ancestor Will O’Phaup, most of the Laidlaws tend to be gruff, unsentimental and withholding. Love is not spoken of. Spouses stay together out of obligation and necessity, children are not cosseted, parenthood is another responsibility in a long, tiring string of duties. By the time Munro, or a version of herself, shows up, the Laidlaws are still poor and unimportant, and ambivalence rules.

Munro’s narrator is a girl much like the young heroines of her short stories: restless, too smart for her own good and a little self-absorbed. Her quiet and dependable father is also capable of brutality; he was a fur trapper, then ran a fur farm. He slaughtered horses to feed the foxes he harvested, and beat his daughter with a belt. Her mother sells those furs at what passes in their world for a ritzy hotel; she then succumbs to Parkinson’s, a disease so rare and misunderstood that her care by her family was cold, impatient, untender. Munro describes them all with her usual lucidity and unerring eye for detail and character. Even her description of the topography of Southern Ontario is gorgeous. The View from Castle Rock is a sad and beautifully written book. Arlene McKanic writes from Jamaica, New York.

All love is ambivalent, said the playwright Tony Kushner, and ambivalence kills. The tales in Alice Munro's The View from Castle Rock are full of that sentiment. This 13th collection, which the 75-year-old Munro has said will be her last, is a departure in that…
Review by

I’ll admit it: when I first heard of an entire book devoted to a creature that is is, in America at least, often little more than the allergy-afflicted child’s pet of choice, I was dubious. But a few gorgeous, full-color pages later, Kingyo: The Artistry of Japanese Goldfish, had me hooked. As it turns out, these brightly colored pond-dwellers, which developed through a natural mutation of gibel carp, are far more than meets the eye. In Japan, where they’ve been sought-after pets since their introduction from China in 1502 and bred since the 1800s, goldfish have become a symbol of the culture. There’s a little bit of everything in this elegant, surprising book. Graphic designer Kazuya Takaoka and photographer Sachiko Kuru have compiled hundreds of images that show how influential the goldfish has been in Japanese art and design, appearing on everything from plates, cups and jewelry to children’s toys. Readers will marvel at the variety of colors, and yes, even shapes, of the many different breeds depicted in Kingyo. (The one shown above is the Ava Demekin, or “Red Telescope Eyes.”) As further proof of the power of the goldfish, Takaoka and Kuru have also included a poignant 1937 novella by Japanese author Kanoko Okamoto, “A Riot of Goldfish.” This magical tale follows Mataichi, a young goldfish breeder hopelessly in love with the daughter of one of his patrons. Unable to gain her affections, he sets his sights on developing a fish that matches her beauty. Kingyo is sure to fascinate both aquarium aficionados and readers with an interest in things Asian.

I'll admit it: when I first heard of an entire book devoted to a creature that is is, in America at least, often little more than the allergy-afflicted child's pet of choice, I was dubious. But a few gorgeous, full-color pages later, Kingyo: The…
Review by

I don’t know if there is a sound lonelier than the silence of everybody gone. This is the morose frame of mind in which we find Ave Maria MacChesney, heroine of the best-selling Big Stone Gap trilogy. With her young daughter (too young, in Ave Maria’s opinion) newly married and living in Italy, Ave Maria is restless. She doesn’t find her usual fulfillment in her work as Big Stone Gap’s pharmacist, and her ailing husband, Jack, is considering a job with a mining company that could spell environmental catastrophe for the tiny Virginia town. Worst of all, Ave and her best friend Iva Lou aren’t speaking, after a blowout argument over a secret from Iva Lou’s past. Adriana Trigiani has detoured from the comfortable confines of Big Stone Gap in recent years, using her apparently vast imagination on wildly varying subjects: a 1950s male interior decorator (Rococo), an ambitious New York seamstress (Lucia Lucia), turn-of-the-century Italian farmers (The Queen of the Big Time), even a cookbook (Cooking with My Sisters). She’s a consistently appealing storyteller, whatever the subject matter. Still, it must be said: It’s good to come home to Big Stone Gap. Trigiani’s light touch yields a realistic portrayal of small-town life sometimes bucolic, sometimes as constricting as a too-small shoe and a cast of charmingly imperfect characters: Pharmacy employee Fleeta Mullins tartly passes judgment on customers, an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips. The usually wise Iva Lou fumbles when she has to confront her checkered past. And Ave Maria and Jack just can’t seem to agree on Jack’s new career.

In an attempt to get back on track, they make a trip to Jack’s ancestral home in Scotland. But they soon learn that even the lush green hills of Aberdeen can’t compare to the comforts of Big Stone Gap and readers will certainly agree. Amy Scribner writes from Olympia, Washington.

I don't know if there is a sound lonelier than the silence of everybody gone. This is the morose frame of mind in which we find Ave Maria MacChesney, heroine of the best-selling Big Stone Gap trilogy. With her young daughter (too young, in Ave…
Review by

New technology brings many changes, both beneficial and harmful. Not least among the improvements is an ever-more-detailed look at the wonders formerly hidden from our limited animal senses. Magnification and photography permit us to look beyond our world and deep within ourselves. Every time we imagine that we have seen all there is to see, we are proven wrong yet again.

For proof, you can turn to a new book, The Architecture and Design of Man and Woman: The Marvel of the Human Body, Revealed, which consists of glorious images of the human body, inside and out, by renowned scientific photographer Alexander Tsiaras. The images, all full-page and full-color, are beautiful computer-modified hybrids of photography, scanning, X-ray photography, microphotography, molecular surveillance tools and Tsiaras’ own patented three-dimensional visualization software. Barry Werth’s accompanying text is literate and entertaining, not merely a workmanlike captioning of the images.

The cover shows a woman’s skeleton visible through her leaping, running body, and this single image demonstrates both the photographic method and the celebratory tone of the book. On these pages, we see inside capillaries and in between bone fibers. We look through the skin at the muscles and bones and nerves. Sometimes eerie, sometimes awe-inspiring, this is a book whose pages you will wear out with return visits.

New technology brings many changes, both beneficial and harmful. Not least among the improvements is an ever-more-detailed look at the wonders formerly hidden from our limited animal senses. Magnification and photography permit us to look beyond our world and deep within ourselves. Every time…
Review by

As the story of the pioneers of any land becomes legend, many details fall away. Who were the women behind the men and what happened to them? What was their contribution to the creation of a country? <b>Ines of My Soul</b>, the tale of Chile’s conquest by the Spanish in the 1500s, is international best-selling author Isabel Allende’s way of answering that question. As told in flashback by a courageous Spanish seamstress who becomes the mother of the land, <b>Ines of My Soul</b> dramatically recreates the adventure, romance and achievement of an indomitable woman in the untamed wilderness of South America.

When Ines Surez’s good-for-nothing husband disappears in the New World, she sets out to find him, freeing herself from the repressive environment of Spain. Ines’ adventures begin during the long sea journey to the Americas. Her keen mind and beauty soon capture the attention of Pedro de Valdivia, field marshal to the explorer Francisco Pizarro, governor of Peru. Together, Ines and Pedro lead the expedition destined to colonize the wild and fertile land of Chile. Their love affair ultimately raises Ines to the heights of society, where she proves her nobility by defending the nascent town of Santiago from the attacks of the fierce natives.

In this, her ninth novel, Allende’s love of her native lands she was born in Peru and raised in Chile before immigrating to the United States shines through. Ines, Pedro and the indigenous Chileans come alive, clashing with swords and clubs, facing starvation, betrayal and, finally, triumph. Allende weaves meticulously researched historic detail about the real-life Ines with brilliant imagination in this riveting tale, demonstrating again a singular talent for storytelling that grows stronger with each new work. <i>Kelly Koepke writes from Albuquerque, New Mexico.</i>

As the story of the pioneers of any land becomes legend, many details fall away. Who were the women behind the men and what happened to them? What was their contribution to the creation of a country? <b>Ines of My Soul</b>, the tale of Chile's…

Review by

Tom Bailey’s riveting and thought-provoking second novel, Cotton Song, zeroes in on a small town in Mississippi during the summer of 1944. The novel opens just after the lynching of Letitia Johnson, the longtime nanny for the Rules, the town’s wealthiest and most prestigious family. The Rules’ baby daughter was found drowned in their bathtub the previous morning, and by that evening a Ku Klux Klan-led mob had lynched Letitia, before she was even formally charged with the crime. Baby Allen, the county welfare agent, is sent to find Letitia’s 12-year-old daughter Sally, who for obvious reasons has gone into hiding.

Juxtaposed with the account of Baby’s attempt to rescue young Sally is the story of Jake Lemaster, son of the Boss Chief of Parchman Farm, the infamous real-life prison housing the state’s most violent offenders. Jake lives in the shadow of his father, and is forced to go along with his cruel disciplinary tactics and inhumane treatment of prisoners. When Jake begins snooping around the Rules suspecting that Letitia was not at fault his father heads him off, telling him that the truth is what folks agree to say it is, and warning Jake that his scruples are turning him into a weakling.

Both Baby and Jake are compelling characters. Bailey gradually allows the reader into their personal lives introducing Baby’s habitually unfaithful husband and Jake’s rigid and unforgiving ex-beauty queen wife. It becomes clear that the odds are against them in their attempts to confront the racist powers that be, and the tension builds as the Klan prepares for its next step. Meanwhile, Jake’s enemies strive to deter him from the truth, both events leading to inevitable tragedy.

Bailey’s novel succeeds on several levels: as a Faulkner-esque tale of empathetic but alienated characters, as an indictment of human brutality and as a litany of the South’s struggle to come to terms with the racial strife of its not-too-distant past. Deborah Donovan writes from Cincinnati and La Veta, Colorado.

Tom Bailey's riveting and thought-provoking second novel, Cotton Song, zeroes in on a small town in Mississippi during the summer of 1944. The novel opens just after the lynching of Letitia Johnson, the longtime nanny for the Rules, the town's wealthiest and most prestigious family.…
Review by

Would you like to delight your resident horse-lover this Christmas with something other than another item from her State Line Tack wish list? Widely acclaimed photographer Yann Arthus-Bertrand has culled 15 years of pictures and selected his favorites for a new collection, Horses. From the lens of a master who is at ease whether working from a bird’s-eye view or up close in the studio, these pictures convey a depth that is rarely seen in standard horse photography. Focusing on the complex relationship between his equine subjects and their caretakers, Arthus-Bertrand’s photographs reveal almost as much about horse-lovers as they do about the horses themselves.

Starting with photos taken in Eurasia, where the horse’s ancestors developed into the present day species Equus, representatives of many breeds are shown against the backdrop of Arthus-Bertrand’s signature brown tarp canvas. Befitting an artist who has spent a significant portion of his career photographing the earth from the air, Arthus-Bertrand includes several beautifully composed shots in which the canvas is a small element of a wider, lush scene. Thoughtful commentary by Jean-Louis Gouraud enhances the photos and focuses on how the various breeds have evolved in response to regional cultures. This armchair tour of the horse world is a captivating journey.

Would you like to delight your resident horse-lover this Christmas with something other than another item from her State Line Tack wish list? Widely acclaimed photographer Yann Arthus-Bertrand has culled 15 years of pictures and selected his favorites for a new collection, Horses. From…
Review by

<B>In McMurtry’s latest, two wild women hit the road</B> When Larry McMurtry is not writing a western, the West is usually lurking somewhere in the background. This is the case with his latest offering, a humorous saga of two post-menopausal free spirits who set off from L.A. to Texas for one last fling.

Maggie and Connie have been best friends since sixth grade and cruising for guys since they were 14. Maggie has three married daughters who no longer need her; after her hysterectomy she is totally at loose ends, and inexplicably depressed. She begins to lose interest in running her "loop group" a cast of motley characters who dub death groans and squeals for movie soundtracks. She tires of listening to her daughters’ endless marital woes, and her affair with her somewhat kinky and married shrink is going nowhere. So Maggie talks Connie into taking a trip to Texas to visit her eccentric Aunt Cooney, a chicken rancher who keeps two million chickens and lives in a house with 32 bedrooms. Mag-gie and Connie pack a snakebite kit, cowboy boots and plenty of black bras, and off they go stopping whenever they need a drink or a little pot, and getting lost only a few times. Unfortun-ately, Maggie’s cell phone gives her little respite from family responsibilities, and she is constantly kept abreast of what’s going on back in L.A., including one teenage niece getting pregnant and all three sons-in-law leaving her daughters for younger women.

Upon their return, things are still not going all that well: the shrink has "passed on," and Maggie and Connie have both lost their jobs. Maggie mulls over her options finding another shrink? Joining a convent? Or should she just try and pull together the loop group again? There are those maxed-out credit cards, after all.

McMurtry obviously had a lot of fun writing about what must be his firsthand experience with the downsides of menopause. This is more of a "chick book" than many of his previous novels, but his biting and insightful humor is still evident in this honest portrayal of L.A., Hollywood and two Valley Girls approaching their "advanced years." <I>Deborah Donovan writes from Cincinnati and La Veta, Colorado.</I>

<B>In McMurtry's latest, two wild women hit the road</B> When Larry McMurtry is not writing a western, the West is usually lurking somewhere in the background. This is the case with his latest offering, a humorous saga of two post-menopausal free spirits who set off…

Review by

Yann Martel begins both this set of four early stories (collected here for the first time) and his Man Booker Prize-winning novel, <I>Life of Pi</I>, with an "Author’s Note." On both occasions, he reflects with gentle deprecation upon his former self: a lost soul, an academic deadbeat, a writer who can’t seem to write his way out of a paper bag. One way or another, this schlemiel of a Martel stumbles into his craft and is saved (these words have a special meaning for the seafaring <I>Life of Pi</I>).

It is this stumbling that is so endearing about Martel’s writing, so paradoxically graceful. The unwieldy titles among the four stories bear witness to the essential unmanageability of any circumstance worth telling. Indeed, the title story carries the improbable weight of three layers of narrative. We never learn anything about the Helsinki Roccamtios, but it is the facts behind them that matter (and then again, the facts behind <I>those</I> facts).

"The Time I Heard the Private Donald J. Rankin String Concerto with One Discor-dant Violin, by the American Composer John Morton" (yes, that’s the title of the story) happens because the narrator wanders through the city of Washington and notices a sign advertising a concert. A concerto named for a Private Rankin? A discordant violin? And who, for all love, is John Morton? Naturally, the narrator of the story must attend the concert and find out what it all means. The accident of seeing a sign turns into an urgent necessity. Thereby hangs the tale and perhaps all tales, all storytelling, life itself.

In "Manners of Dying," Martel seizes upon the most literal and unforgettable way to show how our stumbling, contingent natures determine our ends. The "story" is really nine parallel stories: nine different accounts of Kevin Barlow’s execution by hanging, out of possible thousands (we are given numbers 18, 319, 1096, etc.). The warden who writes to Kevin’s mother is always the same warden, but the Kevin is a different Kevin every time. From the contents of his last meal to the substance of his last words, each of the nine Kevins meets his death with momentous individuality. Whoever we are, Martel tells us, we are all in the same boat, and no two boats are the same.

<I>Michael Alec Rose teaches at Vanderbilt’s Blair School of Music.</I>

Yann Martel begins both this set of four early stories (collected here for the first time) and his Man Booker Prize-winning novel, <I>Life of Pi</I>, with an "Author's Note." On both occasions, he reflects with gentle deprecation upon his former self: a lost soul, an…

Review by

2007 Caldecott Medal Winner

Two-time Caldecott Medalist David Wiesner turns from the flying frogs in Tuesday and the cloud factory in Sector 7 to the mysteries of the sea in yet another brilliant, wordless picture book, Flotsam. Like many of the author’s creations, this story begins with an inquisitive child, a boy observing crabs with his magnifying glass along the ocean shore. Without warning, a wave deposits a barnacle-encrusted Brownie-style camera, labeled the Melville Underwater Camera, before the protagonist.

After waiting a seemingly endless hour for the film to be developed, the boy views a set of fantastical underwater photographs: wind-up fish with gears, an octopus family reading to its young by the light of bioluminescent fish, a colony of tiny people residing atop the shells of sea turtles, and stretching starfish-islands. But wait! There’s also a photograph of a girl holding a photograph of a boy. And within that photograph is another boy holding a photograph of a girl. Puzzled, the boy first uses his magnifying glass, and then a microscope, to observe each child’s photograph, ending with a sepia-toned, turn-of-the-20th-century image of a boy his own age. An open-ended conclusion leaves room for any child’s sense of wonder to carry on.

Wiesner proves why he is an award-winning storyteller and illustrator with vivid watercolors that range from vignettes to spectacular full- and double-page panoramic views. Wonderful displays of imagination are evident throughout, as are small touches of humor, such as a photo of overly eager visiting aliens and their unruly children. Older and more astute readers will find many surprises, including a hint to the boy’s discovery in the book’s cover art, a reference to Wiesner’s The Three Pigs on the title page, and a clever imitation of a classic Japanese print, Katsushika Hokusai’s The Great Wave at Kanagawa. Most importantly, Wiesner continues to show children that things aren’t always what they seem. Would the Caldecott committee consider a three-peat?

Angela Leeper is an educational consultant and writer in Wake Forest, North Carolina.

2007 Caldecott Medal Winner

Two-time Caldecott Medalist David Wiesner turns from the flying frogs in Tuesday and the cloud factory in Sector 7 to the mysteries of the sea in yet another brilliant, wordless picture book, Flotsam. Like many of the…

Review by

<B>Buffett’s return to Margaritaville</B> Tully Mars, the introspective cowboy introduced in Jimmy Buffett’s best-selling short story collection, <I>Tales from Margaritaville</I> (1989), is back in a truly unforgettable storytelling tour de force. It involves an abandoned Caribbean lighthouse, an expatriate on the run from psychotic bounty hunters and a 102-year-old woman’s improbable dream all blended together as only Buffett can, with generous helpings of liquid libation. Buffett’s first novel in more than a decade can be best described as one big madcap quest involving a cast of characters that could have easily appeared in a modern-day retelling of Lewis Carroll’s <I>Alice in Wonderland</I>. In addition to Mars, "a good guy with a few bad habits," and his trusted horse Mr. Twain, there’s Thelma Barston, a mentally unstable poodle ranch owner; Waldo and Wilton Stilton, bumbling twin bounty hunters; Tex Sex, a famous country singer with more than a few skeletons in his closet; Ix-Nay, an Indian medicine man; and Sammy Raye Coconuts, a flamboyant world traveler and entrepreneur.

Mars, lying low on an idyllic Mexican island after a confrontation with his former boss in Wyoming turned violent, fatefully meets a woman who will change his life. Cleopatra Highbourne, enigmatic captain of a legendary schooner, enlists Mars to help her restore a 150-year-old lighthouse in the southern Bahamas, on an island called Cayo Loco. The reconstruction, however, includes finding an extremely rare lens. Thus Mars begins a quest both physical and spiritual that will lead him to Mayan shamans, internationally renowned entertainers, drunken sailors, wily pirates, cult leaders, hedonistic spring break coeds and even a few ghosts. If <I>Tales from Margaritaville</I> was the literary appetizer, <B>A Salty Piece of Land</B> is the long-awaited five-course meal. Buffett’s newest offering is both breathtakingly beautiful and wildly bizarre, laugh-out-loud funny and heartbreaking, irreverent and profound easily his best work of fiction yet. <I>Paul Goat Allen writes from Syracuse, New York.</I>

<B>Buffett's return to Margaritaville</B> Tully Mars, the introspective cowboy introduced in Jimmy Buffett's best-selling short story collection, <I>Tales from Margaritaville</I> (1989), is back in a truly unforgettable storytelling tour de force. It involves an abandoned Caribbean lighthouse, an expatriate on the run from psychotic bounty…

Review by

For decades Vernon Culligan, a Vietnam veteran with a snarl meaner than a coon dog’s, had done a fine job keeping people off of his property. But to 12-year-old Gabe, Vernon was not just his scrappy uncle, he was Gabe’s last hope for a place to call home after years of moving from one foster home to another. So the day Gabe comes home and finds his uncle dead on the floor, he does what a typical kid might do in a crisis nothing. He calls no one. And nobody notices . . . well, almost nobody.

Audrey Shafer’s first novel, The Mailbox, hooks the reader quickly and keeps our attention riveted until the very last page. Shafer, an anesthesiologist at a veterans hospital and the mother of two teenagers, weaves a remarkable story clearly influenced by her deep understanding of the characters involved.

For a while, Gabe survives just fine all alone in Vernon’s house, thanks to a couple of white lies, forged school forms and a few important life skills his uncle taught him. But one day, he discovers that his uncle’s body is gone and there’s a note inside the rickety old mailbox: I have a secret. Do not be afraid.

And so begins the cryptic correspondence between Gabe and his mysterious confidant, who attempts to fill a young boy’s loneliness with a stream of messages and an obedient dog named Guppy. As the season passes, Gabe finally begins to feel loved and needed, ignoring the fact that Guppy isn’t really his to keep.

Eventually Gabe’s world becomes tangled and complicated. His secret explodes into the local and national news, where more of Gabe’s past comes to light. But more importantly, for the first time, Gabe’s future begins to feel secure, thanks to some understanding teachers and caring friends who are there for him when the puzzle pieces finally click together.

What happens to Guppy, the dog who wags itself into Gabe’s heart? For that answer and some unexpected twists, grab a tissue for the last few chapters. Then enjoy the lingering memories of Shafer’s characters, who will stay with you for a long, long time.

For decades Vernon Culligan, a Vietnam veteran with a snarl meaner than a coon dog's, had done a fine job keeping people off of his property. But to 12-year-old Gabe, Vernon was not just his scrappy uncle, he was Gabe's last hope for a…
Review by

On a tranquil summer night in July of 1996, a Boeing 747 on its way to Paris from Kennedy Airport with 230 passengers and crew onboard explodes in midair, then falls in fiery pieces into the Atlantic. Although more than 200 witnesses report seeing a mysterious streak of light rise into the sky toward the plane, the explosion is attributed to mechanical malfunction and the case is officially closed. Five years later, John Corey, the cynical protagonist from Nelson DeMille’s Plum Island (1997) and The Lion’s Game (2000), is drawn into the unresolved mystery by his wife, Kate Mayfield, an FBI agent who interviewed witnesses and family members after the disaster. Although Corey and Mayfield, who now both work for the Federal Anti-Terrorist Task Force, have been told in no uncertain terms to let sleeping dogs lie, Corey smells a cover-up and uses his hard-nosed detective skills to follow an extremely cold trail. That trail begins with the rumor of an anonymous couple who, while videotaping their illicit sexual escapades on a Long Island beach, accidentally recorded the crash. And while wild theories abound as to the cause of the explosion an experimental government laser weapon, an explosive underwater gas bubble, friendly fire, etc. Corey finds hard evidence that the anonymous couple might hold the key to the mystery. With the FBI and CIA after him, Corey works furiously to find the videotape and uncover the truth.

While writing a fictitious account about a tragedy like TWA Flight 800 is risky on many levels, DeMille tackles this still-volatile subject with sensitivity and class. Some readers may not agree with his conclusions, but everyone who reads Night Fall will understand the critical significance of the questions raised about national security and admire DeMille’s deft blend of serious issues and spellbinding suspense.

 

On a tranquil summer night in July of 1996, a Boeing 747 on its way to Paris from Kennedy Airport with 230 passengers and crew onboard explodes in midair, then falls in fiery pieces into the Atlantic. Although more than 200 witnesses report seeing…

Sign Up

Stay on top of new releases: Sign up for our newsletter to receive reading recommendations in your favorite genres.

Trending Features