Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Book 26: The Descendants

 
Like probably everyone else, I heard of this novel when I heard about the George Clooney movie, and it just didn't interest me.  I honestly couldn't tell you the last Clooney movie I saw - probably one of the Ocean movies.  He seems like a charming nice guy, but I just don't quite share the same opinion about his appeal as everyone else.  Thus, if anything, Clooney's involvement made me slightly less interested.  After all, it sounded like a simple enough story.  While that is the case, I couldn't believe just how much I enjoyed this novel.  It was just very well-written, very realistic, and it didn't seem like it provided easy answers.  It is obvious how the narrator, Matthew King, has been deluding himself, how he has been an absent father, but he shares enough for the reader to make their own judgements and decisions.  Since I had finished The Tiger's Wife before reading this, I appreciated a narrator and character that I could feel connected to.  While I didn't agree with everything King did or has done, I understood his reactions, I understood him, and I cared for him.
 
The novel begins in the hospital during a daily visit to the hospital to see Joanie, Matt's comatose wife.  His ten year old daughter Scottie seems afraid of her mom though Matt keeps trying to get Scottie to talk to her.  Joanie, a model, has been the primary care giver and decision maker in her daughters' lives, and Matt has let her call the shots.  Now that he finds himself responsible, he is shocked by Scottie's actions, and also tries to change things.  Alex, his older daughter, is away at boarding school as punishment for a drug problem and due to an argument with Joanie.  The girls portrayed in this novel have issues, and it is clear that they aren't simply the result of a mom in a coma, or being spoiled rich girls.  As the novel reveals more and more about Joanie, the picture is not necessarily flattering.  Her friends and family love her, she was smart, sarcastic, adventurous and beautiful, but it also meant the girls had no idea how to live up to their mother.  After all, her coma is the result of a boat racing accident, another example of Joanie's zest for life.  How does one deal with being plain, or cautious when growing up under a shadow like that?  Matt believes that he and Joanie teased each other a lot, but that they loved each other and that she was self-sufficient.  However, the more the novel reveals, the more it leaves one to wonder how many of her comments were inside jokes and how many were real complaints that Matt ignored.
 
When Matt finally has to face the idea that Joanie won't recover, he gets Alex out of boarding school, and gathers friends and family.  In this process he makes a discovery about Joanie he has been trying to avoid despite clues.  Amidst all this, Matt also has one big business decision to make.  As a descendant of the last princess of Hawai'i, he and his extended family have owned a large amount of land under a trust, and they now have the option to sell their land and inheritance, leaving the question of who to sell to, and how it will be developed.  Basically, with his wife's coma, Matt is facing decisions and questions involving the future of his family as well as the past and their legacy.  While it is hard to say what will happen to the Kings, it ended on a hopeful note, and left me wanting things to work out for all the characters involved.  I enjoyed the fact that even though Matt was the narrator, the novel provided some other perspectives, and that he included his flaws, giving the reader his view of things but still letting them infer the reality.  I know I'm way behind the crowd on this, but I'd definitely recommend checking this one out.  Maybe I'll even watch the movie now.

Book 25: The Tiger's Wife

 
I never know about award winning novels: on the one hand, the awards occasionally introduce me to amazing novels I wouldn't have noticed otherwise but sometimes their opinions and mine just don't mesh.  That is somewhat the case when it comes to The Tiger's Wife.  Tea Obreht is originally from Serbia, one of the countries that was once part of Yugoslavia, before war and bloodshed.  Her novel deals with war, conflict, ethnic differences, and tells the story of coming of age in an unnamed war torn city.  And while I feel like I should care about this, I had a hard time actually feeling that way.  I felt too distant from the narrator, Natalia, to truly care what was going on with her specifically.  At the beginning of the novel, she is enroute to give vaccines to children in an orphanage when she finds out that her grandfather has died in a random village, confusing his family.  Though accompanied by her best friend, she keeps the information to herself and seems rather numb.  For the rest of the novel, she reflects on her childhood, growing up with her mom and grandparents, the war, and the stories her grandfather used to tell as well as the stories of her grandfather she learned later in life.
 
Natalia remembers visiting the tigers at the zoo with her grandfather until the zoo was closed down by the war, though she never quite understood his interest in them.  While I was never completely drawn into the modern day part of the story with only a few exceptions, I quite enjoyed the vignettes and two stories that played such an important role in Natalia's grandfather's life.  One of these is the deathless man, whom the grandfather comes across at various times throughout his life, a man who cannot die and also ends up playing a small supporting role in the tiger's wife story, though it isn't clear if the grandfather knew this.  The tale of the tiger's wife was a beautifully written fairy tale like story set during the World War II, and is about her grandfather's village and a tiger that escaped from the city's zoo during bombing, making its way north.  It is sad, tragic and poignantly written.  The characters are written with redeeming qualities or enough of a backstory to give them some depth, even the ones that end up playing villainous roles.
 
If the novel had stayed in the past, I would have easily said that this was a good novel and recommended it (though I wonder if part of that was simple manipulation - of course, I'm going to feel lots of emotions about an abandoned tiger; I think most people would agree with me that an animal's struggle in a book or movie is almost always more moving than a person's).  Unfortunately, I didn't like the parts set in the modern day or even the previous decade of warfare. It just felt like it could have been so much more but I was apathetic to the main character and her family.  Every once in a while there is an interesting glimpse into their daily lives, but mostly she portrays herself as a dissatisfied teen that grew up to become a doctor like her grandfather.  Additionally, while I enjoyed the stories, the overall narrative is a bit disjointed as a result.  Natalia uses these stories to explain and understand her grandfather but I would have preferred him as the narrator in that case.  In fact, I think that would have been a better novel - the grandfather's perspective of his life and the war.  Basically, I don't quite understand all the attention this novel received - I was emotionally invested for half the novel which may be enough for a lukewarm recommendation but not for an award winning novel.  Natalia was too disconnected from her surroundings and as a result, I was disconnected from her.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Book 24: The Devil's Star

 
Though this is fifth Harry Hole novel in Norway, it's only the third one in the US.  While things seemed to be going well for Harry at the end of Nemsis (he had solved a high profile case, and received permission to pursue investigating his partner Ellen's death), he appears to have hit bottom in this one.  An alcoholic, Harry has mostly been avoiding alcohol in the last two novels.  When The Devil's Star begins, Harry is coming off a four week long bender, and would probably have continued even longer if his boss hadn't call him in on a case.  While his boss, Moller, has been trying to cover for him, and even put him down as on vacation, it is the holiday season, so he has no one else to call but Harry for a new murder case.  Worse, he has to partner him with Tom Waaler, and Moller knows that Harry suspects Waaler of being behind Ellen's death and a gun smuggling ring.  It was one of the last things Harry had him told before disappearing for four weeks, a binge prompted by his inability to find any usable evidence to support his theory and bring Ellen justice.
 
At the crime scene, Harry and Tom discover a young woman, shot in her bathroom, index finger cut off.  An odd mark on her eye turns out to be a small, red diamond in the shape of a star or pentagram placed there by the killer.  Harry soon gets drunk again, and Moller puts in the paperwork to get him suspended from the force.  While waiting for the final decision, Harry uses a call by a distraught husband about a missing wife to get out of the office, and soon realizes that the police force actually has a serial killer on its hand, and that the wife is the second victim.
 
The rest of the novel follows the pursuit of the case, the implosion of Harry's personal and professional life (he and Rakel, his girlfriend, are separated as a result of Harry's self destructive behavior), and Harry's desire to prove what he knows about Tom to the rest of the force without knowing who to trust.  While I quite enjoyed the investigative piece of it and the mystery part, some of the things involving Tom towards the end just kind of went a bit all over the place with chases and intrigue.  Fortunately, it was really only the last fifty pages or so, and didn't take away from the rest of the novel, and I enjoyed the rest of the novel.  What I've found interesting is that so many of the negative reviews on Goodreads and Amazon say "he's no Stieg Larsson" simply because they're both Scandinavian and write crime thrillers.  I really don't think it's an apt comparison - the Harry Hole novels are series of detective or police crime novels, like so many other series in the US, that just happen to be by Norwegian author and take place in Norway.  I would say they are primarily mysteries, like any other series.  Larsson on the other hand has a trilogy that tells one woman's story - yes, there is a mystery at the center, but it still seems like it's more about what happens to Lisbeth.  The Hole series is a very well done myster/thriller series, though, and while there might be bits and pieces I could do without in the novels, overall they are very entertaining and engaging.  Actually, a certain plot point reminded me of a case involving a classic mystery character.  I'm curious to see where the series goes from here since Harry lays at least one demon to rest by the end.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Book 23: Midwives

 
While I have enjoyed every Bohjalian novel I've read (though if you are new to him, don't start with The Night Strangers), I was in no real hurry to pick this novel up.  I think sometimes I'm hesitant to read older novels by some authors, afraid they won't be nearly as good as their later work (for example, I really didn't like Chabon's The Mysteries of Pittsburgh), even though some people peak early and can never recapture the magic of earlier novels.  Maybe it was just the fact that the premise of the story didn't interest me as much because I don't plan on having kids or giving birth or anything like that.  Once I picked it up, it was just as good as any other one of his novels.  In fact, I'm kind of surprised he doesn't seem to be a more popular author - his novels have covered a variety of topics, always focus on the characters and their relationships, and some have twists, but since not all of them have twists, I'm not reading the novel expecting a twist, and am instead pleasantly surprised when there is a twist, adding an extra layer of complexity to the narrative I thought I just read.  Given that this particular novel dealt with court room drama, I especially found myself thinking Jodi Picoult fans should totally read him though his novels are better told and written.
 
Connie Danforth, the daughter of midwife Sybil Danforth (she is a lay-midwife, not a nurse midwife) and Rand, narrates the novel several years after the events that are the focus of the story.  In 1981, Sybil attends a homebirth for Charlotte Bedford, and though she originally expected no complications, the labor takes a long time, the expectant mother is exhausted, and Sybil considers transferring her to  the hospital.  Unfortunately, there is also a terrible winter storm that night in March, and the phones are out and the roads impassable - they are stuck in that bedroom in the isolated house in Vermont.  Eventually, Charlotte dies, and Sybil does an emergency casearean to save the baby.  However, Sybil's new assistant and midwife apprentice Anne doubts what she saw, and starts making phone calls to people, implying that Sybil did not save a baby from its dead mother's body - instead, she cut into a living woman, thus killing her.  The rest of the novel examines the after effects of these two very differing views of the events of that evening.
 
Sybil Danforth soon finds herself under investigation, and pressed with charges of involuntary manslaughter and practicing medicine without a license.  Of course, the trial is about much more than how Charlotte died.  It's about two competing views of life and childbirth.  While Charlotte's death could have been seen as unfortunate but an accident, it becomes part of a political agenda - the medical institution vs midwives.  I don't know how divisive of an issue this still is, but I think that as early as my high school AP history class, I was already introduced to do the idea of doctors villainizing midwives due to a documentary about a 18th century midwife whose journal had been discovered.  At first, doctors had no interest in birth since such womanly things were beneath them; however, slowly, the medical profession gained more prestige, and doctors realized there was money to be made, even though in many cases they had no idea of some simple home remedies and instead relied on bad science with no bed manner.  As a result, it added a certain amount of background and depth to this simple story about three women - Charlotte, Sybil and her daughter, Connie.  As a result of this prior knowledge of midwives and women's treatment in medicine (based on various women's studies classes), I found the portrayals here particularly interesting, even though the topic of childbirth in general isn't really something I care about on a personal level (I don't plan on having kids, even if I did, I doubt I'd have a homebirth although that has less to do with fears of something going wrong - though my mom was in labor for 28 hours - and more with the fact that I don't understand why people would want to ruin their own sheets and mattresses when they could mess up the ones at the hospital; I realize that is probably juvenile and somewhat shallow reasoning).
 
Since the story is told from hind sight, the novel reveals different pieces at different times, so that the reader knows about the eventual trial before they know about everything that happened that night.  The whole time I was waiting to see what the trial's outcome would be, and Bohjalian wrapped up the novel in a very satisfying way, giving voice to both sides of the debate, though it would be impossible not to feel for Sybil.
 

Monday, February 18, 2013

Book 22: Every Man Dies Alone

 
"He might be right: whether their act was big or small, no one could risk more than his life.  Each according to his strength and his abilities, but the main thing was, you fought back." (132)

Sometimes, a novel is more important because of what it represents than the actual writing or the novel itself.  Set in World War II era Berlin, the novel tells the story of Otto and Anna Quangel, a working class couple, who decide they have to do something to oppose Hitler's regime after their son's death during the conquest of France.  The story itself was written in 1946/47, when the wounds were still rather fresh, and is inspired by a true story.  Hans Fallada was a prominent German writer prior to Hitler's rise, and at that time was probably best known for the novel Little Man, What Now? which is about a German couple living in Berlin during the Depression, whose lives just seem to get worse and worse yet do not despair.  When Hitler came to power, many German authors left Germany; others became part of the regime.  Fallada tried to straddle the middle - he stayed in Germany but attempted to write novels that would neither offend nor support the Nazis.  The afterword specifically mentions one novel he wrote and changed to appease the Nazis, the ending being somewhat supportive of the regime.  After the war ended, a friend gave him the Gestapo file on Otto and Elise Hamperl, a couple that started a postcard campaign against Hitler and eluded capture for almost two years, inspiring this novel.
 
This novel tells a very different story from what one usually sees in Holocaust or World War II literature.  The Quangels resist, but this isn't the type of effective, organized and inspiring resistance so often portrayed in novels.  Instead, it is the story of two working class people with little education and their campaign against the Nazis.  Every Sunday, Otto writes one or two postcards, calling on the German people to wake up and realize what is going on, decrying the actions of Hitler and the government, and on Monday or Tuesday, Otto and Anna leave these postcards in random buildings, hoping that someone will read them, pass them on and be called to action because of them.  As Fallada shows in his novel, Otto and Anna do not have the effect they believe they do - basically, every postcard gets promptly turned into the Gestapo or the authorities and the few that aren't are destroyed as soon as the person that found them realizes what they are reading.  Basically, Fallada chooses to tell the story of people that are basically completely ineffectual in their efforts, but are still risking their lives to do the right thing.  It's actually a very interesting perspective to tell a story from, and Fallada has various characters throughout the novel to compare and contrast with the Quangels.  For example, there is Trudel, the Quangels' son's former fiancee, who finds comfort in family life but begins to ask herself about her own complicity by not acting against the Nazis; Eva Kluge, the postwoman (and my favorite character) who leaves the Nazi Party after she is confronted with an atrocity that her son has committed; Judge Fromm who is guided by the concept of justice.  These are the people that do small things and take small stands but even these things can be dangerous.  On the other side of things are the thugs and opportunists that have gained power from the Nazi's ascent, and the small time crooks and informers that are at the bottom of society regardless of who is in charge.  Some of these characters are rather cartoonish, and incredibly selfish, but I actually liked that Fallada chose to tell a smaller story, and in a way focused his attentions on one small building in a working class neighborhood in Berlin.  Its inhabitants included the Quangels, the Persickes (ardent Nazis), Judge Fromm, Mrs. Rosenthal (a Jew), and the informer and thief in the basement while Eva Kluge was their postwoman.
 
Unfortunately, I didn't love the novel, though I wish I had.  Fallada has a very simple writing style, and it's easy to follow but I can't say I always like how he portrays people that much.  Having read Little Man, What Now? in college, I think I can honestly say it's just the author's style that doesn't do it for me - I'm not sure if it's Fallada's beliefs or his characters' beliefs but there is a certain amount of "men do this, women do that" in his novels that just prevents me from enjoying them more.  In some ways the relationship between Otto and Anna is very sweet, but in other ways, Otto is very stubborn and Anna gives in to him in ways I didn't like.  The women seem to be very melodramatic and given to grand statements (I feel like I saw this with Trudel especially).  I think it is a story that deserves to be told, and even if the Quangels/Hamperls didn't have any effect on the German populace, it is an affirming story to see that people will do the right thing even against impossible odds.  While I liked the way some of the story developed, in the end I think this novel is significant not because it is an outstanding novel but because of what it represents and the stories behind its creation.

Book 21: Nemesis

 
Technically the fourth Harry Hole novel, it is the second one available in English (at least in the US), and takes place after The Redbreast.  Rakel and Harry are still seeing each other, but the custody battle that started in The Redbreast is ongoing, so that Rakel actually spends the entire novel in Russia, attempting to keep custody of her son Oleg.  Due to Rakel's absence, Harry accepts an invite from an ex-girlfriend for dinner, one of the first mistakes he will make throughout the novel.  At the same time that Harry and Anna decide to catch up, Harry is working a bank robbery case - this may seem a bit of a surprise given that Harry is usually involved in murder investigations, but this particular bank robbery ended with the death of one of the bank employees.  The robbery itself was immaculately conceived and executed.  Being Harry, he naturally sees things in a different way than the investigator in charge of the case, and quickly butts heads with him until he receives permission to run a separate task force to ensure they are staying open to fresh ideas.  The task force is comprised of Harry and Beate Lonn, daughter of a cop killed on duty, who has the ability to remember every face she has ever seen.
 
The night after Harry's dinner, he wakes up at his apartment with a hangover, and no memory of the previous night - he doesn't remember seeing Anna or getting home.  That morning he is assigned to a case with Tom Waaler, whom readers will remember from The Redbreast.  Next thing Harry knows, he finds himself at Anna's apartment, an apparent suicide victim, but things don't add up to Harry.  While admitting that he had seen her the previous evening or that he knew the victim may have helped lead to an investigation, Harry instead investigates her death independently and quickly narrows in on a possible suspect.
 
There is also some overlap between the two cases since it turns out that Anna's uncle is an infamous bank robber that may be able to provide information regarding the robbery that started the novel.  Overall, I was much more interested in the bank robbery and murder than Anna's murder.  I think this had a lot to do with the fact that I thought Harry was making stupid decisions in regard to Anna's case, and I was not at all convinced that he was going after the right suspect.  Something about the case was off to me, and it irritated me that he was pursuing it like a dog with a bone.  Other than that, I would say this was another tightly plotted mystery with a good amount of twists, though there were a few too many with regard to one of the cases.  Overall, I would say The Redbreast was the better book, but I'm still looking forward to continuing the series, especially since I have gotten the impression that some of the more recent ones are especially good.
 
 

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Book 20: My Cousin Rachel

 
As much as I loved DuMaurier's novel Rebecca, in ways it has made me more hesitant to pick up more of DuMaurier's novels, afraid that they couldn't possibly live up to Rebecca.  I have had this novel for awhile now (in fact if Amazon is to be believed, I've had this novel for over three years, meaning it's moved with me from Germany to Virginia to Georgia to Illinois/Iowa) but the monthly keyword challenge is what finally inspired me to actually sit down and read it since it has a word related to the February keyword "family" in it.
 
My Cousin Rachel, like Rebecca, is a gothic novel, and this one is set in some undetermined time in 19th century England - a time when people used carriages and horses to go into town, when a letter from a different country took over three weeks to arrive, and telegrams and trains don't seem to exist or be in common usage yet.  The narrator, 24 year old Philip, has been raised by his cousin Ambrose in a house without women.  Ambrose was a bachelor for life, and didn't need any women around with their desire for order and cleanliness, and as a result, I didn't get the impression that Philip or Ambrose really understood them at all.  Due to health issues, Ambrose spends most winters on the continent, until one winter he visits Florence to explore the gardens, where he meets Rachel.  Philip only hears everything through letters, long delayed and occasionally sporadic, but Ambrose and Rachel get married, Ambrose extends his stay in Florence, and Philip feels jealous and neglected.  Eventually two letters arrive from Ambrose, both odd, alluding to illness, and carrying a certain tone of paranoia regarding Rachel, calling her his torment, claiming that she is watching and monitoring him.  Philip, being the loyal cousin that he is, races to Florence, only to discover that his cousin died three weeks previously, the letter only arriving after his departure, and Rachel has left the villa and the town.
 
Upon his return home, the will declares Philip heir to everything though he must remain under his godfather's guardianship until 25 years of age to ensure he is of sound moral character.  Philip blames Rachel for his cousin's death, thinking her a murderer, and is rather shocked when he hears she plans to visit his home soon.  Planning to confront her, he instead becomes fascinated by her, the woman in question not looking at like the woman he created in his mind.  During her stay, the reader continues to question what is going on.  Did Rachel poison Ambrose or did he die of natural causes?  His behavior was odd but Ambrose's own father died of a brain tumor with similar changes in attitude and personality.  I think this was the biggest difference to me between Rebecca and My Cousin Rachel - in Rebecca, I very definitely wanted to know about the past, and what mystery was being hidden on the grounds of Manderley while in the case of My Cousin Rachel I was more interested in how the relationships would develop.  Was Rachel a conniving murderer and opportunist?  Is she completely innocent?  Or is there some compromise between the two, where she may not resort to murder, but is certainly willing to manipulate people and situations for her benefit?  The interesting thing is that in a way I didn't even care because I actually quite liked Rachel, even though I was only getting Philip's perspective of her.  I didn't completely trust her, but I prefered her to Philip.
 
Even though he is the narrator, Philip does not come off in a good light at all.  Given his upbringing, not only does he not seem to understand women, he also has some views that could only be described as sexist and misogynistic, and not simply in the "he's a man in the 19th century" way.  Of course, I'm going to judge a character when he owns a library and says he doesn't spend much time reading.  He talks constantly about how awesome bachelor life with his cousin was, and how women just get in the way (of what?  your reading time that you don't use?  your hunting that you also don't seem to do?  walking around the estate restlessly?); he is also incredibly sheltered, having only ever left the estate to go to school, and then returned to the family home.  This isn't necessarily a bad thing but Philip seems to take glory in his unworldly ways, his lack of culture and also displays a certain amount of xenophobia (against those crazy Italians), showing little to no interest in expanding his horizons.  He often acts like a petulant child and is unwilling to take advice from others.  At first, he is ready to judge Rachel based on the letter from a sick man; later, when there is indeed reason to question her motives, he refuses to take anyone's advice and makes dramatic, thoughtless decisions.  Men in the novel refer to Rachel as impulsive repeatedly but as Philip's godfather rightly points out, that word applies just as much to him.
 
DuMaurier doesn't exactly give straight answers in this novel either - the end itself is up for question, and it's up to the reader to decide what they believe about Rachel, Ambrose and Philip.  From other reviews, I think I may have taken a more favorable view of Rachel then some others, but Philip honestly just pissed me off.  However, I think it worked for the novel because I wasn't rooting for him, and even I was questioning his decision making process in regards to Rachel.  Hopefully, it won't take me three more years to read another DuMaurier novel (is Jamaica Inn a good follow up?  I already have that one at home).