Stories of my people

As any reader of my blog knows, I'm a determined bibliophile who can't get enough of the written word. That goes some distance to explaining my love of books-about-books, and especially Nancy and Lawrence Goldstone. They're book people in the truest sense of the word, and they also happen to be rather amusing authors themselves. I finished Slightly Chipped over the weekend and it's more of the same - a lighthearted look at the world of book collecting. I've never been much of a collector (limited funds will do that to you), but reading about the collector's world is fascinating stuff. Everyone likes to think that they'll be the one to find that rare first edition at a garage sale for $2, right? I know I don't know enough about book collecting to ever hope of making a find like that, so I have to live vicariously.

The book's pretty short so there's not a ton to say about it, but the Goldstone oeuvre is definitely recommended reading for book lovers. They've got a new book coming out here in a couple of months - a review for that should show up in the not-too-distant future.

Full-contact croquet and the fate of the world

As a treat to myself, I decided to pick up a book I've been wanting to read for a while - Jasper Fforde's Something Rotten. Fforde is quite possibly my favorite author of all time, and his latest entry in the Thursday Next series pretty much confirms that view. I'll do my best to describe it, but it's almost impossible to do his work justice.

Exhausted after two long years policing the inner world of books, Jusifiction head Thursday Next is eager to hang up her hat and take her son Friday back to the real world. She's bound and determined to get her husband Landen Parke-Laine back from the mists of time - the evil Goliath Corp. eradicated him from memory as punishment. Unable to stand it any longer, Thursday returns to Swindon and her old job at Spec-Ops 27 (Literary Detection) to reunite her family.

Of course, Thursday quickly finds that there's major trouble brewing in the real world. Yorrick Kaine, an obscure fictional character of unknown origin, is running for President on a platform of anti-Danish sentiment and threatens to turn England into a police state. Goliath Corp. is attempting to transform itself into a religion to avoid all those pesky corporate rules and regulations. And she still can't find reliable child care for Friday.

As she reconnects with old friends and allies, Thursday embarks on a wild race through England and Wales to find her husband and put a stop to evil scheming. Too bad Swindon has to win the Superhoop croquet championship to do it....

Fforde's books are wild and imaginative, and I think that's why I like them so much. It's almost impossible to compare him to anyone else, because he's created a fictional world that's so different from almost any other I've encountered. Fforde's work is so chock-full of literary humor and punchy one-liners that you can't help but giggle as you read. But most of all he knows how to put together a good story. I'm eagerly awaiting Thursday's next outing.

"I will tell him the truth."

My posts are likely to remain sporadic for quite a while longer, so bear with me. I'm taking a heavy load of classes this semester and I'm swamped with course-related reading, assignments, lectures, and papers to deal with. My reading-for-fun has largely been curtailed to time spent on the bus coming home from work/the gym and the odd half-hour before bedtime, so I doubt I'll have much to contribute until, oh, say, April 2006.

I did manage to finish a quick little spy novel this week, Daniel Silva's A Death in Vienna. I picked this book largely because I knew I could finish it sometime before winter ends, and it didn't disappoint. Silva's books aren't particularly deep, but they're satisfying little thrillers that are perfect for an overloaded mind. A Death in Vienna is the latest entry in a now three-part series featuring Gabriel Allon, an Israeli intelligence officer and assassin who spends his downtime restoring famous works of art in Italy. Allon is ambivalent about his role in Israeli policy and maintains a lengthy detachment from the less savory applications of his prodigious skills. But try as he might to remove himself from the web of his past associations, when Ari Shamron (Israeli's deposed but highly influential former head of intelligence) calls, he is compelled to answer.

Shamron's latest assignment for Allon is one that takes Gabriel back to his least favorite place - Vienna. Site of the car bombing that killed his child and left his wife catatonic, Gabriel is reluctant to investigate the bombing of the Wartime Claims and Inquiries Office, an outfit dedicated to bringing the perpetrators of the Holocaust to justice. Gabriel's investigations quickly lead him to a former concentration camp officer living under an assumed name, and the crimes this man is hiding will blow Gabriel's past wide open.

Silva's becoming one of my favorite authors, largely because he writes intelligent, swiftly-paced thrillers that actually attempt to teach me some history instead of focusing on filling my head with nonsensical plots and poorly written sex scenes. His work is definitely a cut above most others in the genre, and that's why I stick with him throughout the numerous twists and turns of his plots. Now that I've finished his Allon trilogy, at some point I'll delve into his non-series backlist. I imagine that should happen around 2009 or thereabouts, so stay tuned for that.

The League of the Golden Key

I've finally managed to finish another book, so I finally have an update for the blog. The latest is Michael Chabon's The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, and though it's a pretty long book it's one of the best novels I've ever read. I picked up this book on the strength of the general sense that "they" liked it, and a guy at the book fair where I bought it saw it in my hands and told me I had to read it. Over six months later, I finally got to it, and he was right. Bare none, this book is awesome.

Part of what I love about Chabon is his inexplicable ability to make me care about a topic I have absolutely no interest in - comic books. But inside his book, he creates this unbelievable world that just sucks you in completely. The book centers around two cousins, Sammy Clay and Josef (Joe) Kavalier, and the relationship between them as they create a series of memorable comic book characters in pre-WWII New York. Joe is a recent emigre, smuggled to the U.S. in a coffin to escape the German army as it marches on Prague. Eventually arriving at his cousin's home, the two embark on an odyssey through the then-nascent world of comic books with Sammy as writer and Joe as illustrator. The characters they create express the feelings that can find no other outlet - rage against the German occupation that severed Joe from his family, the love for a passionate Surrealist artist, the fear of the unknown as seen by an immigrant.

Chabon absolutely knocks this one out of the park - his writing is by turns humorous, exciting, and poigniant. The relationships between the characters are engaging without being a deliberately manipulative roller coaster of emotions, and the rich evocation of pre-war NYC is completely compelling. I'm having a hard time putting the superlatives into words; this book is just that good.

And best of all, he had this cute little snippet about my chosen profession (now earmarked in my copy for posterity): "Poor little librarians of the world, those girls, secretly lovely, their looks forever marred by the cruelty of a pair of big black glasses!"

My New Year's resolution...

... is to stop ignoring my blog for a change. I've let a lot of stuff slip since I got married and I'm trying to reform. We'll see how long that lasts.

Anyway, I'm starting fresh with a journal of all the books I read for fun in 2005. I doubt anyone wants to know what I thought of such scintillating tomes as Level Three Leadership: Getting Below the Surface and The Leader's Companion, both of which are required texts for my Information Leadership course. These definitely don't fall into the category of "fun books."

First up for the new year is Arturo Perez-Reverte's The Seville Communion. Perez-Reverte is a Spanish author that's finally starting to gain a following in the States, despite the fact that he's been one of Spain's most popular authors for about 10 years now. His debut novel, The Flanders Panel, remains my gold standard for literary mysteries, mostly because I can understand it without aid of a Latin dictionary (yes, Umberto Eco, I'm looking at you). The Seville Communion won't change my top pick for the genre, but it's still an enjoyable novel for fans of highbrow mystery.

The novel follows Father Lorenzo Quart, a Vatican insider whose main role for Mother Church has been to investigate all manner of mysterious happenings while keeping it completely quiet to prevent a scandal. Quart's latest assignment begins when a hacker breaks into the Pope's personal computer to leave him a message regarding a crumbling, almost forgotten church in Seville known as Our Lady of Tears. Two men involved with the church have died in what appear to be accidents, but the anonymous hacker indicates there might be more to the story. Intrigued by the hacker's ingenuity, the Pope sends Quart to Seville to investigate and make a full report. What Quart finds is a church in ruins, with a group of devotees eager to restore the building to its former glory. Viewed with skepticism as an outsider, Quart struggles to learn the truth behind this unusual church without breaking his vows or getting himself killed in the process.

The Seville Communion is much less of a mystery than Perez-Reverte's other novels, but his ruminations on the Catholic Church and its relationship to religious faith make the book a worthwhile read. Perez-Reverte is a wonderfully lyrical storyteller, and while I'm sure his works are more powerful in the original much of that feeling comes across even through the somewhat grimy lens of translation. His characters are complicated, imperfect people, and Perez-Reverte is definitely skilled at making you feel a connection to them in spite (or perhaps because of) their flaws. Unfortunately, said characters are also a little stock - guy with gambling problem looking to make one big score, disaffected housewife, bumbling criminals, etc. While the book is very good, it's not up to Perez-Reverte's standards. You can safely skip this one, but don't miss The Flanders Panel and The Nautical Chart - both of these will give you a much better sense of just how good he is.

I've also got some reviews coming up over at The Mystery Reader - look for my comments on Priscilla Royal's Tyrant of the Mind (the sophomore outing from a Poisoned Pen Press author) and Ashley Gardner's The Glass House soon.