Reading List 2009

Even though I hadn't touched this entry since June, my daily train ride to work (plus a week's vacation in the mountains of Georgia) has meant that I've had plenty of reading time. I've been dutifully noting the titles, and now that I look back at them, am frankly underwhelmed. It's been kind of a disappointing year of books, but I'm not sure if that's because the books I chose were substandard, my standards are too high, or it's just a case of bad luck. In any event, if you read something this year that knocked your socks off (or have a favorite that you love to sing the praises of), please leave a comment or recommendation. I'm always looking for books to add to the list.

Northanger Abbey - Jane Austen

Another lull in library books meant it was time to go back to Jane Austen: The Complete Novels. The next novel in line was Northanger Abbey, and I was happy to discover that it is (or at least seems to be) a lot shorter than the previous novels I've tackled. That's because Northanger Abbey is by far the weakest of the Austen novels I've read. The title building shows up three-fourths of the way into the book, after chapter upon chapter of Catherine Morland wandering around Bath going to parties and crushing on Henry Tilney. You know that silly, indecisive tertiary character Harriet in Emma? It's like Austen plucked her out of Emma and made her the heroine of her own book. She doesn't do anything! She wanders around, moons over Henry, moons over her friends and family, gets the willies for two seconds in a creepy old house, decides she doesn't like her boyfriend's father, gets kicked out by said father for mysterious reasons that stay mysterious for about four seconds, and which turn out to be stupid, and lives happily ever after. Whuh? I've got two more Austen novels to go, and I'm hoping they're more in line with Sense and Sensibility or Emma than Northanger Abbey. I'd hate for my last impression of Austen to be that she's capable of so much more.

How Buildings Learn - Stewart Brand

This had been bouncing around my "to-read" list for a while. I was under the impression that it was a chronicle of how buildings evolve and adapt in our ever-changing society, and how certain types of architecture remain prized many years later. What it turned out to be was a dense, coffee-table tome that I couldn't get through a single chapter of without glazing over. Bleh.

Ms. Hempel Chronicles - Sarah Shun-lien Bynum

I had the same problem with this book as I had with The Brambles: Though it was an interesting look into a character and her thought processes (in this case, a middle-school teacher), nothing much actually happens. I really need some plot to be drawn in - simple prose or poetry doesn't do it for me.

The Pig Did It - Joseph Caldwell

There something to be said for picking up a book for which you have no preconceived notions. Of course, there are all sorts of risks involved, too. I spotted this one on the library shelf, and was intrigued by its title. Unhappily, the title is the most interesting thing about it. Ostensibly, it's the story of a mysterious death in Ireland, the secrets of a small village, and the mischievous pig that roots everything up. In reality, it's a creative writing exercise to see how much descriptive prose you can wedge into a book without having to develop any real plot. This prose is so purple, it's bleeding grape juice. There are only so many descriptions of rolling hillsides and windswept landscapes I can take before I'd like for something to just happen already. It never comes. This is apparently one of a series, but there's no way I'll be reading any of the others.

The Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins
Catching Fire - Suzanne Collins

Yeek. This book was awfully graphic for the Young Adult section. After reading a few positive reviews and seeing it on Veruca's counter, I thought I'd give this book a whirl, and am really glad I did. This is the book Stephen King wishes he could write. It takes place in a grim futuristic America (though it's not called America anymore). The Capitol is ringed by twelve districts who once-upon-a-time rebelled against the Capitol, and were crushed. As punishment, each district is required to send a boy and a girl to a large arena, where they remain until one of them has hunted all the rest of them down and killed them. The story is told from the point of view of the girl from District 12, a self-sufficient young woman who offers herself to the games when her little sister's name is drawn. Her tactics for staying alive, as well as her developing relationships with other competitors are fascinating, and every person feels like a distinct character; even if we're only with them for a few paragraphs. I won't ruin the ending, but I will say there's a sequel coming out later this year, which I'm happily anticipating.

As with any second book in a trilogy, Catching Fire kind of begins nowhere and ends nowhere. However, it certainly propels the story forward, and nicely sets up the last book. Katniss, the protagonist from the first book, is trying to figure out her post-game life. She may have won the games, but she really pissed off the people who run them, and her performance has been fostering resentment and winds of rebellion. The Capitol wants her to help subdue this feeling, which she cannot do, even if she wanted to. In retribution, she is forced back into the arena, even as the world outside of it begins to crumble. It was a good book, and though it was nowhere near as compelling as the first one, I guess I shouldn't expect it to be. It does its job, which is to make me nervously anticipate what will go down in the finale.

The Poet - Michael Connelly
The Scarecrow - Michael Connelly

Michael Connelly is a prolific author, as many crime/thriller novelists are. The only books of his I've read are these two, which comprise the Jack McEvoy series to date. McEvoy is a crime reporter who finds himself trying to disprove that his twin brother committed suicide (The Poet) and having to crack a major crime spree to save his job (The Scarecrow). Both books were good for what I call "summer reading". That is, they're the equivalent of the loud, dime-a-dozen summer blockbuster movies. That's what you're in the mood for once in a while, and although you won't find anything new or deep in the story, they can be a fun way to pass the time.

Welcome to Higby: A Novel - Mark Dunn

After enjoying Ella Minnow Pea and Ibid so much, I felt I had to check out Mark Dunn's remaining book. It's always kind of a letdown to read an author's weakest book last, although the upside is that I may not have discovered the other two if I'd started with this. It's a perfectly pleasant book of interweaving story lines, all of which take place in a few days in the fictional town of Higby, Mississippi. The characters are folksy, and the scrapes they get into are aw-gosh-isn't-that-adorable, but there's just not much there there.

Secrets to Happiness: A Novel - Sarah Dunn

This was a fairly good book, about the intricate web of love and friendship we all have to navigate as we search for happiness. Sometimes, it can go a little off the rails (the book, that is), but as far as Chicklit goes, it's a lot better than most.

Split: A Memoir of Divorce - Suzanne Finnamore

I can't remember where I heard about this book, or why I was moved to pick it up and read it. I guess because I like to read about a variety of topics, and I've never seen the lifespan of a divorce described before. Finnamore splays it out by comparing the events to the five stages of grief. I guess it's tough to judge a book about someone's feelings on their divorce, because they're not my feelings, and it's not my divorce. It was an interesting read, though I'm left with the desire to hear her ex-husband's side of things. She does refrain from being impossibly bitter through the entire recounting, which I appreciated, and though I'm glad I read it, I'm not anxious to dive back into the subject anytime soon.

Rock, Paper, Scissors: Game Theory in Everyday Life - Len Fisher

I'm interested in game theory, so I was intrigued by the promise that this book would delve more deeply in how it governs people's everyday choices. Unfortunately, it doesn't do much more than scratch the surface. It gives nice descriptions of the various benefit/cost traps we put ourselves into, and proposes general ideas of how cooperation can help bust us out of those traps, but it never delved deep enough for me. It'd be like trying to learn the particulars of DNA sequencing from an episode of Mr. Wizard. So, it was a little frustrating, and not as good as I'd hoped, but would probably be an excellent start for someone interested in the basics of game theory.

The Graveyard Book - Neil Gaiman

I like the majority of Neil Gaiman's work, and though I wasn't overly excited about this one at the time I read it, I appreciate it more now that I look back at it. A boy whose family is killed manages to escape the assassin, and makes his way to a graveyard, where he is raised by ghosts. He enjoys his life there, but things get sticky when he begins to wonder about the people outside his small world, and naturally, there's still the matter of the people who want to finish him off. This book didn't get me as charged up as Neverwhere, American Gods, or even Coraline, but it was still an excellent story.

Prize and Prejudice and Zombies - Seth Grahame-Smith (and Jane Austen)

It took a long time for me to get my hands on this wildly popular book, so I'm afraid my expectations were ratcheted up too high. I was nonplussed at the time, but now that I've thought about it, I can see why everyone likes it. It is such a weird, fresh, cool idea to take an English classic and infuse it with zombie mayhem. The Bennet sisters are trained in the deadly Asian arts. Balls and propriety are now not the only problems plaguing upper class society. Now they have to contend with the living dead breaking in and eating all the servants. You not only have to marry your daughters off to eligible bachelors, they have to survive to marrying age. It's quite a zany book, and I'm glad now that I read it, though I'm not sure I need to continue with Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters.

The Magicians - Lev Grossman

Nobody can write a book about magic without it being compared to Harry Potter, so here you go: This book is what it would be like if Harry Potter lived in a world with actual adult emotions. Even at its darkest, the world of Harry Potter didn't have raw jealousy or wild lust. This book does. A group of disaffected teenage magicians think it would be a lark to test out their powers in a new way, and find that it's not so simple as waving a wand around and spouting fake Latin. It was a fairly good book, but is let down by an unsatisfying ending.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon

The general layout of mystery novels can get a bit trite after a while, so authors like to toss in a twist if they can. If it doesn't work, the book comes off as stupid or pretentious. If it does work, you get a fantastically clever novel like this one. The protagonist is a British teenage boy who has autism. One night, he looks out of the window, and spies the neighbor's dog lying dead on the ground, impaled by a garden fork. He sets out to solve the mystery, and in doing so, must confront his own social issues. It was a really intriguing story, and unquestionably worth the read.

Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea - Chelsea Handler
My Horizontal Life - Chelsea Handler

I've really gotten into Chelsea Handler's late night talk show lately, and upon learning that her recent book was ruling the bestseller list, I knew I had to add my name to the long wait list at the library [not that being on the bestseller list is a guarantee of quality - Christopher fucking Ciccone was on it for a while]. This retelling of past events in Handler's life is very funny, and I found myself laughing out loud more than once. I prefer her in television form, but the book was certainly good enough for me to seek out her other one.

Which was just as funny. My Horizontal Life was a collection of essays about her one-night stands, and had me giggling inappropriately as I read it on the train. Highly recommended, though you may want to save it for the living room or bedside table, lest you be caught cackling your head off in public.

Eat, Memory: Great Writers at the Table: A Collection of Essays from the New York Times - Edited by Amanda Hesser

It seems to be required by law that all food books are reviewed in food terms. I have no wish to break that law, so... This book is the equivalent of stopping for a quick bite at McDonald's on a road trip. It's not necessarily where you want to be, but it's there, it serves its purpose, and once it's over, you can hardly remember it.

Admission - Jean Hanff Korelitz

One of the bright spots in an otherwise unremarkable year. Admission is about the job and life of a woman who works in the admissions office at Princeton. It's naturally a stressful job, and separating out the worthy students from the just-as-worthy students plays hell with the conscience. Putting aside the fascinating exploration of the admissions world, and you have the story of Portia Nathan, who spends her time judging other people, and is starting to turn that focus inwards. When she does, she has to make some tough decisions about what truly makes someone worthy.

The Late, Lamented Molly Marx - Sally Koslow

It seems to be in vogue to write from the point-of-view of the dead. Good stuff first. The story of Molly Marx, who looks down from the Beyond and watches her family try to sort through her murder, is a good one. None of the characters are entirely good or entirely bad (including Molly), which makes the story a lot more realistic than just having a collection of archetypes, like the Pious One and The Cheating One and The Bitch. The one problem I had with the book is that it's equal parts story and Look At My Fabulous Manhattan Lifestyle. I get it, Sex and the City was awesome. What isn't so awesome is that it spawned this hideous attitude that I must care where some Upper East Side lady bought her shoes, her corned beef, and her jewelry. I don't. Stick to the plot, please. Leave the Blahniks out of it.

Playing For Keeps - Mur Lafferty

This is an unusual case, as it's the first book I've ever "read" via podcast. The entire thing was read by the author, and while it was good, it would have benefitted from some professional production. I'd probably have liked it a bit more if I had read the print version. As to the story, it's a good one. It's all about a group of people who live in a city filled with superheroes. These people have powers, but they're not considered powerful enough to be true heroes. Rather than the usual black and white of good and evil, this book cleverly makes the heroes huge jerks, and the villains have a sympathetic edge. The group of underpowered citizens, lead by "Keepsie" Branson, is caught in the middle, and desperately tries a find a way to help the city without being killed or arrested. There were a few plot issues here and there, but it's an incredibly clever premise, and very well-written.

The Family Man - Elinor Lipman

Where Ms. Hempel Chronicles was a character study that left me a bit cold, this one was much better. It's about a newly-retired gay lawyer who reconnects with the step-daughter cut out of his life when his vain wife left him years ago. He forges new relationships with not only the daughter, but the ex-wife and a new man as well. It was a very charming story.

The Spellman Files - Lisa Lutz
Curse of the Spellmans - Lisa Lutz

The book cover describes this as Harriet the Spy for grown-ups, and that's not far wrong. It's about a family of private investigators, all of whom spy on others for a living. Taking that a step further, they all spy on each other as well, looking for any opportunity to manipulate and cajole. The middle daughter finds it impossible to have any sort of normal relationship, and attempts to free herself from her family's web of intrigue, which sets off a chain of events including an old missing persons case she's desperate to solve. It was a good book, and I'm looking forward to continuing the series.

The second book was almost as good. In this one, our protagonist finds herself obsessively trying to discover the secrets of her next door neighbor, despite all the evidence that he's a nice, normal guy. In addition to that, the family is still sneaking around behind each other's backs, and the police detective "friend" of the family finds himself drawn into their issues far more than he'd like.

Nose Down, Eyes Up - Merrill Markoe

I really liked Merrill Markoe's essay books, so I thought I'd give her fiction a try. This one is a fun story of a guy trying to make sense of his love life and living situation, all the while having elucidating conversations with his dogs. Anyone who can clearly tell what every head tilt means will get a kick out of it.

American Lion: Andrew Jackson in the White House - Jon Meacham

Writing a presidential biography is a tricky project. As a reader, it can be a bit difficult to tease real facts out of how the author feels about the president up for discussion. I loved John Adams, but he wasn't a very controversial president. Andrew Jackson, on the other hand, was kind of a badass. That badassery was sometimes admirable (facing South Carolina down, and letting them know that no, they can't pick and choose which federal laws they'd like to adhere to) and sometimes abominable (hey, ever hear of the Trail of Tears?), but always interesting. The intrigue of Jackson and the people who surrounded him makes for good reading, even if Meacham's writing style is a bit unfocused and a little scatterbrained at times. He still manages to relay information in an entertaining way, while never overly praising nor condemning Jackson. It was certainly worth the read.

Fool - Christopher Moore

One of the highlights of my year. This is a vulgar, comedic retelling of King Lear from the jester's point of view, and was highly enjoyable. If you haven't read it, and love to see classics turned on their ears, seek it out.

Unseen Academicals - Terry Pratchett

This is hard for me: I think it's time for the Discworld series to come to a graceful close. It's a fantastic series, and I heartily love the majority of it, but as time goes on, they're getting worse and worse. Even if a Discworld novel isn't all it could be, it's generally better than a lot of other books out there, and I've never had to stamp a "Bad" label on one. Until now. Is this unfocused novel a satire of soccer? Of the fashion industry? Is it a tale of orc acceptance (which was ably covered in other books when it was a story of vampire acceptance or werewolf acceptance)? It's all of these things, and none of them. It's wildly scatterbrained, and I'm sorry to say, not very interesting or amusing. As with The Simpsons, I think it may be time to bury my head, ignore any new offerings, and start reliving the golden years.

Wide Sargasso Sea - Jean Rhys

Even when I find myself in the midst of a terrible book, it's rare that I don't finish it. I've invested the time in hearing the set-up; I may as well see how it ends. This horrible book is a rare exception, and I gave up on it midway through. It's supposed to be about the mad wife of Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre, and how she came to be such a loon. I wish I could answer that question now, but there was no point of this book that wasn't boring, depressing, a gross mischaracterization of Mr. Rochester, or all three. Avoid, avoid, avoid.

Crossworld - Marc Romano

I love crossword puzzles, so I was looking forward to this exploration of the craze and the world of competitive crossword solving. Instead, it was a disappointing book that read more like one guy's journal of how nifty he finds that world. Nothing new or interesting is described. Nothing exciting is conveyed. It's just a bunch of pages that boil down to: "Aren't crosswords great?" Well, yes they are, but I didn't need someone to tell me that.

Tiny Ladies in Shiny Pants - Jill Soloway

I'm not sure there's anything more annoying than someone who thinks they're funny when they're not, but if I were to pick an impressive runner-up, it's someone who thinks they're adorable and witty when they're not. Surgically remove the lion's share of hilarity and self-awareness from Chelsea Handler's book up there, replace it with smarm, and you'll have this book. I can't believe someone who did such good work on Six Feet Under and The Oblongs would be such a chore in real life. I also can't believe she had the nerve to thank her copyeditors in the acknowledgements, since the entire book begs to be attacked by a red pen, but that's a separate battle.

The Cheese Chronicles: A Journey Through the Making and Selling of Cheese in America, From Field to Farm to Table - Liz Thorpe

As I write this entry, I discover two things about the reading list for this year. One is that the word of the year appears to be "disappointing". That is, I've read a slew of books that are either just plain bad, or ones that had a lot of potential, and failed to live up to it. The second discovery is that the longer it takes a book to spit out its title, the worse it's going to be. Both of those discoveries come into sharp focus in this book, which I was really looking forward to. I heard Liz Thorpe on the radio, discussing various artisans that give new meaning to "American cheese", well beyond the processed slabs of orange goo we tend to think of when we hear that phrase. Unfortunately, she's much better suited to radio than to print. This should have been an encyclopedia or almanac; not a book. Rote facts about cheeses, people who make cheeses, people who sell cheeses, and people who cook with cheese are thrown out without any sort of connective tissue. It's disorganized and uninteresting. I love food, and love to hear knowledgeable people talk about it. This book should have had me salivating, and running for the nearest cheese counter. Instead, it bored me to tears.

The Wordy Shipmates - Sarah Vowell
The Partly Cloudy Patriot - Sarah Vowell
Take the Cannoli - Sarah Vowell

Sarah Vowell is one of those authors I wish I liked more than I do. She's smart and funny, and Assassination Vacation was a very entertaining read. But after a disappointing essay in State by State and this rather dry treatment of early American puritans, I'm not sure I want to seek out her other work. I will say that Vowell has a real talent for making the people of yore sound like actual people. So many writings about historical figures make them sound as two-dimensional as their portraits on our currency, and it's refreshing to experience how people actually lived back then. This wasn't a bad book; it just wasn't as intriguing as I wanted it to be. Perhaps that's just because it's about puritans -- they weren't exactly known as a fun-loving bunch.

OK, I think I've figured Sarah Vowell out. The earlier she wrote her book, the more I like it. It's almost a perfect line graph. The Partly Cloudy Patriot is a series of essays on American life and on her own, and it may be my favorite of her writings I've tackled so far. That must mean Take the Cannoli will rock my socks off.

And, I was right. Take the Cannoli was an excellent book, but unfortunately, lends more evidence to my line graph argument that with each book, Sarah Vowell becomes less and less entertaining.

State by State: A Panoramic Portrait of America - edited by Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey

This was a thick book, but definitely worth it. All of the states get a chance to shine, each under the auspice of a different writer. Alexander Payne wrote the essay on Nebraska, John Hodgman on Massachusetts, Sarah Vowell on Montana, and so forth. Not every story was told from a place of authority; some of the authors were visiting their chosen state for the first time. Some were impressions of the state's natural beauty. Some focused on a specific city or people within the state. Some were memoirs. Some were told via graphic novel panels. As with any book with fifty authors, the chapters vary wildly in quality. Dull memories of a house made the Georgia chapter a complete waste of time, while a bumper sticker war in Arkansas had me laughing all the way through. All in all, it was worth the read, and really fired me up to get traveling again.

Other

That is, books I've read before, but have had occasion to revisit.

-The Murder at the Murder at the Mimosa Inn (Joan Hess) - I used to love the Claire Malloy series of mysteries, but lost my taste for them after a big slide in quality. This one is the best of the series, and I like re-reading it every once in a while as a reminder of how good these books once were.
-Hero (Perry Moore) - So good I bought it, so I can read it again and again.

**current as of December 29, 2009**