Harlan Coben: The Woods (Rating: 9)

I just finished reading The Woods by Harlan Coben.

I simply cannot say enough about this man as a writer: he is, in my opinion, quite possibly the most readable author in America, if not the world.

Things I liked about this book:

• I loved the way Coben concealed so many hints about what was to come into the prologue
• As usual, I loved his characters, which are always very human and believable
• I loved the plot of the book, and the way so many elements of the book were interweaved

The only thing I didn't really care for about this book was the very ending. I mean, I certainly understand what was going on (a phrase which here means "Why he felt he had to wrap it up like that"), but I didn't particularly find it pleasing.

On the whole, I'd say this book is exactly what I've come to expect from Coben's books: after reading every one of his novels, I've come to expect excellence in storytelling, and have yet to be disappointed.

Until further notice, consider every one of his books to be highly recommended reading!

---

Matière du jour:
Virginia Woolf
(Category: Literature)

Post to Del.icio.us

Read the rest of this post...

Nicole Krauss: The History of Love (Rating: 9)

I just finished reading The History of Love by Nicole Krauss.

This is another of the books chosen for the "neighborhood wives book club". I got it for Julie to read but she never got around to the book (nor to book club) last month. And yet. It looked quite good to me, so I read it.

What I liked about the book:

The characters. In a sense, this was quite an unusual book character-wise, in that it seems to me that even the most minor characters were extremely well developed, or at the very least quite believable and well rounded.

The two major characters, Leo Gursky and Alma Singer each had, right from the start, very vivid and distinctive voices; true, these characters told their stories in the first person, but it was much more than that. Leo's voice, in particular, I loved.

The surprises. I thought I was enjoying the book, how you say, just fine.

Yes, "Just fine."

But—as Leo would say—"And yet."

Wham!!! Something truly out of the blue would happen that would amaze me.

Amazing us is something that not nearly enough books do.

Or, perhaps—just perhaps—"being amazing" is such an integral part of a book's job description that we take it for granted.

And yet.

When a book comes along that does that job of not only amazing you, but amazing the socks off of you, you gotta sit up and take notice.

Somebody sends Leo a copy of a manuscript. When you find out who sent it, it's "Wham! Didn't see that coming!"

Alma is trying to find somebody and when she does, it's "Wham! Didn't see that coming!"

There are other surprises as well, but I'm probably already giving too much away.

What I didn't like about this book: I found a bit of it a little confusing. When it was over I wanted to go back and reread some parts to see if I could figure out for sure if Leo and Alma had met at the beginning of the book. And there was something Leo said about his friend Bruno at the end of the book that confused me as well.

What this book made me think: This book made me think quite a bit about life, about what a journey it is, and about what we accumulate along the way—possessions, acquantences, memories, and so on—and what we discard along the way—possessions, acquantences, memories, and so on.

One of the most basic, tried and true literary techniques used by writers is to send a hero on a quest. Alma, a teenage girl, is on a quest in this book. And as she undergoes this quest, there are—as in any good quest story—things that happen along the way that make you wonder if she would have set out on this path had she known what she would encounter.

It is in this sense that Leo, an old man nearing the end of life, can look back at all he went through in his life and ask himself, "What could I have done different? And would I have changed anything if I could have?"

In all though, at the end it made me feel full, emotionally, like my heart was going to burst.

And amazed.

Ultimately, there was such a niceness to the way all the parts of the book came together.

This is a book that is so easy to recommend it is a wonder not everyone is talking about it.

Books such as this make reading fiction a rare delight.

Post to Del.icio.us

Read the rest of this post...

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime (Rating: 9)

I just finished reading The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, by Mark Haddon.

It is a remarkable story—a phrase which here means "definitely worth reading for the times in the future when you will look back fondly upon the time spent with this book".

It is the story of a fifteen year old autistic boy in England, named Christopher Boone, who finds the dead body of Wellington (his neighbor's dog) in his neighbor's yard.

After initially being questioned for the dog's murder, Christopher decides that he will, like his hero Sherlock Holmes, investigate the crime and identify the murderer.

Along the way to solving the mystery, Christopher stumbles upon other mysteries, significantly more personal and closer to home, and finds himself making his way, alone, on a journey to London.

I don't know what I thought I knew about autism before reading this book (and, honestly, I probably tried not to think about it at all). I really did not know too much about it though (and unless you need to know about it I'd guess most people choose not to).

But I will say that I really was surprised by how smart Christopher is. And brave—and by saying this I'm talking specifically about Christopher's character, Christopher's fears, and how he takes this journey to London in spite of these fears.

(It is possible, I suppose, that Christopher's fears are typical for an autistic, but I am, as I said, quite ignorant about it.)

And, I will be doing some research, purely for self-edification, into this condition.

Oh yes, and if you like remarkable stories (as I define the phrase above) then I would be remiss—a word which here means "falling down on the job of recommending the best reading material that the whole-wide-world of books has to offer"—in failing to suggest that you read Audrey Niffenegger's remarkable novel, The Time Traveler's Wife.

This is another of those books that I often look back on reading with great fondness in the year and a half since I read it.

It makes me very glad that I occasionally read books chosen for my wife's book club—as both of these were!

Read the rest of this post...

E. B. White: Charlotte's Web (Rating: 9)

I finished reading Charlotte's Webto my son Riley last night. It is no wonder that this book is a classic!

This is the first time I've read him a book of this length; we read a chapter, more or less, at bedtime each night for the last several weeks.

Not that I haven't wanted to read a book this long to him, but he just turned six in January and is only now showing an interest in an ongoing story.

(This is a huge step up from the days when he wanted the same book read every night for a week or two on end!)

It also reminds me of my favorite story about my mother:

This will shock anyone who knows me, but I must not have always been a fan of books. In fact, I really wasn't at all interested in school around the time I was in second or third grade. I was doing so badly that year that I was going to be held back if I didn't go to summer school.

My mother decided, and off to summer school I went.

After lunch each day, the teacher would read a chapter from one of Jerry West's Happy Hollisters book (a series of mystery books for kids). I loved the stories, and was always very impatient to know what would happen next.

I must have said something to my mother about this because—even though we had very little money when I was growing up—she somehow managed to find enough to start buying me a Happy Hollisters book every month so I could read them for myself (and not have to wait to find out how it was going to turn out).

Because she did this, I really developed a love for reading and, for the rest of my young life—and often as an adult—I could usually be found with my nose in a book . . .

(The preceding is adapted from a memorial tribute I wrote about my mother for Julie (my wife), so she could put it into the first volume of the scrapbooks that she's doing for Riley.)

So? The point?

Well, first off, I'd have to say that I sincerely hope that Riley also acquires the reading bug the way Julie and I have (and thanks to the wonderful teacher he has at kindergarten—and without overly belittling the impact Julie and I are having on him as well—I think he's well on the way).

Secondly, I guess we have my mother to thank for this blog's raison d'être.

Thanks, Mom!

Read the rest of this post...