Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk

I know it's been a few years since everyone was talking about Ben Fountain's Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk but I finally got around to reading it this week. It lived up to the hype (which so often doesn't happen that I expect it to not happen). This novel is funny, and sweet, and irreverent, and nasty, and honest, and disturbing, and ultimately hopeful. While Billy Lynn and his Bravo troop are home on leave from a tour in Iraq, they are "treated" to a Dallas Cowboys game that is at once hilarious and pathetic. Fountain uses extremes and uses them well--the poverty Billy comes from, the excess of American football and Americans in general, the equal parts love and hate we have of war and by extension the soldiers who fight in those wars, our mad desire for success at any cost. Our desire to hear that everything, always, is going to be all right. And, to make the novel even more unbelievable, there is a movie executive hanging around the Bravos, promising to tell their story on the big screen. But, as unbelievable and excessive as it all is, it's totally, heartbreakingly believable. 

Summer Reading

I've been listening to a fair amount of books on CD in my car (right now a novel by David Liss whom I'd never heard of...I'm quite liking it...more on that later). A few weeks ago, I picked up Helene Wecker's The Golum and the Jinni on CD and popped it in my car on the way to work. It was so immediately enchanting that I drove around the block once, twice, reluctant to go in and start my day and leave this fantastical world. I'm not usually one for straight out fantasy or science fiction novels (although sometimes I am) but this book is deeply anchored in universal human experiences. The immigration experience runs as subtext (perhaps not just subtext) throughout the novel, but also the feelings of isolation, oddness, loss, fear, friendship, love, forgiveness of self and others. It's a big book, both literally and emotionally, and a few years ago I'd picked it up to read and couldn't get into it. But, the audio book swept me up and swept me away in exactly the way I want from a book that is part fairy tale, part something else entirely.

As I've said before, I love a good mystery. And summer is the perfect time to sit outside with one. These last few months, it seems people at the library where I work have been all kinds of crazy about Tana French. I'd never read her before, but I picked up The Secret Place and really enjoyed it. This particular novel is set in a girls' boarding school in Ireland. There are the usual cast of characters--a detective usually assigned to Cold Cases, a newish female detective, a protective Matron. And they're all well-drawn and interesting. But the girls are where the novel really crackles and spits. They're teenagers, yes, but French has a handle on how they see the world. These are not innocents. I particularly loved how French uses language to get the reader into a story--pointed sentences, word choice, changing points of view...I found this book captivating.

The Wonder Garden

Thanks to a recommendation from my friend Kathleen, I had the immense pleasure of reading Lauren Acampora's The Wonder Garden. When I asked Kathleen if it was a novel or short stories she said "both." I might say "neither." It doesn't really matter. We could argue as to whether each story is a story or a chapter, but why bother. I'd rather talk about this strange suburban town, these wonderfully off-center characters, the somewhat (and sometimes not somewhat) creepy things they do. Acampora's characters are honest, even when they are pretending not to notice cracks in the façade. They are charming, even when they are doing bad things. Maybe Old Cranbury isn't a town you'd want to visit, but for me it felt like places I've known, and that makes the characters who inhabit it all the more strange and wonderful. For me, this book felt like a cross between Olive Kitteridge and Kissing in Manhattan. A palpable place inhabited by familiar people doing odd things. If you are looking for a world in which every thread is neatly tied into a bow at the end, this book is probably not for you. Acampora leaves room for the reader to imagine the fates of characters we meet once, and then again, and then sometimes again. I was charmed and delighted by them all.

The Girl on the Train

I'm always skeptical of books that get a lot of attention because I wonder if they're really good, or if everyone just doesn't want to be the first person to say "eh. Not that good." But, one of my coworkers said she enjoyed listening to Paula Hawkins's The Girl on the Train so I figured I give it a go.

I know a book is good when I can't wait to get in my car. When I drive around a parking lot a few extra times. When I make up errands just so I can drive more. This was that kind of book.

I'm a sucker for deeply flawed characters anyway and this novel, with the three women at the center, each caustically telling her own story, certainly fits that criteria. These are not necessarily women you'd want to be friends with, and some may say they are hard to root for. But I was deeply fascinated by each one of them--of their honestly, their self-deprecation, their failure to act when action would have been a very good thing.

The story itself is not one that we haven't heard before but it's a mystery, tried and true. And, I thought, well done.

Is it already June?

In May, I listened to The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver. I don't know why I always fluffed that book aside--possibly because I'd heard it was "political," or maybe, shamefully, because it's so long and, even though I love to read, it seemed like too big of a commitment. I can't speak to any other of Kingsolver's books, but I found this one delightful. I loved this family, and yes, it was political, but not in an unpalatable way. The voice of each character was so strong, quirky, moving. I did think the book got a tad long a the end, but still it was an excellent listen.

And then, vacation came. Between the pre-vacation getting ready, the vacation itself (which didn't allow for much reading time) and the post-vacation laundry, I haven't read much. But I did read Cara Hoffman's Be Safe I Love You. This novel, about a returning female soldier, is amazing. It's beautifully written with characters easy to love and root for, even though they are real and humanly flawed. Lauren, battle-scarred and weary, returns home and tries to pretend everything is ok. Her father, brother, boyfriend, best friend, and others all try to do the same. Until they can't anymore. Hoffman does the almost impossible by keeping this novel from becoming over-sentimental. She has a very light touch, even with this very heavy issue. An excellent read.

So far this month...

I've been listening to audio books more than I've been reading, which speaks to how much time I've spent in the car lately. It is not safe to read while driving. Thank goodness for audio books! I started the month with The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce. Sweet, humble Harold sets off to right an old wrong by walking over 500 miles to see a dying friend and along the way he contemplates his marriage, his life, and the mistakes he has made. While there is a lot of rumination in this story, it is balanced with Harold's fumbling interactions with the people he meets along the way. What started out as a sweet story took a turn into darker, more serious territory that I didn't anticipate but which I found right and satisfying.

Then I picked up Still Alice by Lisa Genova. I have spent a good deal of my life in nursing homes, first with a grandmother who had dementia and then as a Activities Coordinator/Director. And I will say that this book absolutely captures the feeling of Alzheimer's. This is such a beautiful, haunting, humane story--everyone should read it and be reminded of the person beneath the diagnosis, amongst the confusion. I will say that perhaps this is not the book to read on your way into work. I arrived weeping on two separate days, although I am prone to crying for characters. At least make sure you pack tissues.

Finally, because I am sad that I am no longer a graduate student, and because I will forever want to learn, I picked up Verlyn Klinkenborg's Several Short Sentences About Writing. This is an excellent craft book that has caused me to slow down and think about what I'm trying to say, and what my words actually say. At first, this process tripped me up a bit. I started to fumble around in my early drafts, scared of how loose and unwieldy my writing was. But then I took a step back and decided that Klinkenborg's advice--for me at least--will be best used during revision. Which, as he says, is an ongoing process.

The Happiest People in the World

I don't believe in writer's block. That said, I seem to have some form of it. I generally hand out platitudes like "butt in the chair," and "put in the hours," etc. Good advice. Which I have not been taking. I seem to have hit some kind of creative wall or, um, block. All my stories seem miles away from finished. Perhaps hardly even started. The new novel-ish thing I thought I possibly started seems honestly like just too much work. And the finished-ish novel is floating around out there, hoping for an agent. So, again, I've been reading.

But, I have been reading with diversity in mind. Trying to find the thing that will make me dash to the keyboard or pen and paper and start writing. So far, I'm just enjoying the reading and thinking that everyone else is already doing such a good job of it, maybe I should just be a professional reader.

I'll get over it.

Meanwhile, I just finished Brock Clark's The Happiest People in the World. This past semester at Stonecoast, I had the immense pleasure of hearing Brock read from this novel. If you ever get the chance to do so, you should. Hilarious is not an overstatement. The novel, even if you read it quietly to yourself, is very funny. Brock's reading of it makes it even funnier. But, this is not funny in a lighthearted way. This is the kind of funny that is really sad. About a Danish cartoonist who finds his life at risk because of a cartoon that offends many, the book has the feel of a mad-cap spy novel. And then, as you read on, there's also so much humanity in these characters who cannot seem to get it right, no matter how easy it seems, that you can't help feeling miserable and uncomfortable while still laughing a little. It's that kind of book.