Good Reads // Trader

Y'all. I think I'm breaking some kind of record this year. I've read two science fiction books since June. In all honesty though, the book I want to share with you today is one of my all-time favorites. It's rare that a book compels me to re-read it several times in my life... but Trader by Charles de Lint is one of those books. I've probably read it four or five times. The only other books possessing that distinct honor are Jane Eyre, Seabiscuit, and Anna Karenina.

Imagine waking up as someone else. As unlikely as it seems, this scenario is exactly what happens to a luthier named Max Trader. Wasting no time getting to the pith and action of his story, de Lint begins his novel with Trader waking in bed to find that he is not in his own room or even in his own body. Instead, he's been inexplicably plopped into the body of a jobless womanizer named Johnny Devlin. In a spiraling series of events, Trader finds himself fired, evicted from Devlin's apartment, homeless on the streets, and essentially despised by all of Devlin's associates and "friends." He's unable to seek help even from his own acquaintances because of the utter outlandishness of his story. In fact, the only person who believes his story is another homeless man, which frankly doesn't add much to Trader's credibility.

A fast-paced read, Trader is the perfect book to read while snuggled up with coffee on a cool fall evening. De Lint delves into questions about attraction, love, friendship, prejudices, and our sense of self. And, trust me, the ending is not at all what you will expect.

De Lint is actually a Canadian author so his books are occasionally difficult to find in American bookstores. However, you can easily order them off Amazon or through a Kindle. I highly recommend this novel if you're in the mood for a feel-good story.

Read anything good lately?

Good Reads // August Roundup

It's been awhile since I wrote a Good Reads post for the blog. I've been spending more and more time working on writing for myself, and as a result, I haven't devoted as much time to updating this little space. Rest assured, however, that this die-hard bookworm has had her nose in a book all summer long. I'm excited to share my favorite August reads with you! Because the books I read last month were by far some of my favorite reads all summer, maybe even all year.

Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer** my so-far favorite!
Mark had been on me to read this book for years. For some reason, I kept resisting. I suppose I expected a book about the infamous 1996 Mount Everest climbing disaster to be well... boring and depressing. Full of snowfilled sadness and frostbite. There is certainly snow, sadness, and frostbite in this book-- don't get me wrong-- but this book is about so much more. Krakauer really delves into the culture of mountaineering, the resilience of the human spirit, and the bonds of friendship, all while recounting a true event that will leave you biting your nails even though you know the outcome. Probably my favorite read of the summer.

The Husband's Secret by Liane Moriarty
Holy Cow... this book was so good! Definitely a page-turner with a surprising angle into human relationships and how appearances can be oh-so-deceiving. Just to give you a taste: What would you do if you found out your all-American (or I suppose all-Australian since Moriarty is from Sydney) husband, the hard-working father of your children, had a horribly dark secret? Like a felony-sized secret?

Indian Killer by Sherman Alexie
Throughout college, Alexie was one of my favorite authors. This novel follows a series of murders in Seattle committed by a serial killer dubbed the "Indian Killer" by the media. Alexie casts doubt on each of his characters, making you certain each one could be the killer. Delving into magic-realism, Alexie questions the stereotypical image of Native Americans and of mental illness. A very thought-provoking read!

Born to Run by Christopher McDougall
After finishing this book, I wanted to lace up my tennis shoes and run 10 miles. Which is not something I can even do. McDougall sets out to find the Tarahumara Indians of Mexico whose culture centers around running. As in... these people can run hundreds of miles without stopping. Oh and did I mention they run those miles barefoot or clad in flimsy little sandals? Yes. Feel like a couch potato now? I did too. One of the best nonfiction books I've read in a long while... especially if you're into fitness, running, or hiking.

Dune by Frank Herbert
Somehow I made it all through middle school, high school, and college without encountering the sci-fi classic Dune. If you want to read something utterly and completely original, I recommend this book. I felt completely confused for about the first 100 pages as I grappled to understand the book's religion, languages, terms, technology, and government structure. Even the basic family unit was different, alien. After you get the hang of the new universe that Herbert created, you really can get caught up in the storyline. And then you realize that the novel was written in 1965 and the novel becomes something rather visionary.

What have you been reading lately? I'm always in the mood for a good book suggestion!

Good Reads // Under the Tuscan Sun

So. Weird creepy fact: it was exactly a year to the date between downloading and reading this book and the last time I used my KindleFire. How is that possible? Is there just some lure or pull in late June- early July that says "You must read your Kindle. Open your Kindle. Use your Kindle." in a airy, ghosty voice? Definitely one of those weird life things that make you pause and say "huh. weird."

This past week, I read and thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyed Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes. You may be familiar with the 2003 movie of the same name, staring Diane Lane. That movie (incidentally, one of my all-time favorite movies) was inspired by this memoir in which Mayes recounts the process of moving to Italy and renovating a Tuscan villa and oliveyard. I'll admit that I saw the movie long before I read the book. Since I loved the movie so much, I figured I would at least enjoy the book. Oh my word. I was right.

Where to start? Suffice it to say, that this book may become one of my all-time favorites and certainly one of my favorite summer reads yet.

Here are my thoughts on this Good Read:

1. Mayes has quite the talent for description. Her writing warms your skin with the Tuscan sun, stains your fingers with grape juice, and makes your belly grumble for lemon-basil chicken or ravioli with sage and ricotta. Sometimes, there were whole paragraphs and even pages that had me highlighting. Passages that make you pause, breathe, and just live in the words for a moment. If you want to experience an Italian vacation this summer, definitely pick up this book!

2. Her description of the woes and joys of renovating are spot-on. Maybe it's because I too am renovating an old house, but Mayes had me nodding along and sometimes laughing out loud at the foibles and successes of her villa renovation. Cracking plaster, sloping ceilings, quirky wiring-- it all rang true! She delves into the meaning of home and place as well-- pulling out gold nuggets of truth that will make you feel all cozy and lovey-dovey for the old house you're attempting to wrangle into the 21st century. Truly the house builds and shapes you as you build and shape it.

3. The movie and the memoir definitely differ. The movie stressed Mayes' divorce, added some Italian lovers, and introduced Mayes' second husband Ed only at the end, a nod to all the book fans in the audience. In reality, Mayes had already overcome her divorce and had remarried before purchasing and renovating the villa. Additionally, the movie hints that Tuscany was Frances' total escape from her old life, whereas in real life, Frances and Ed--both writers and college professors--lived in Italy only during holiday seasons, not year-round. The "real story" doesn't lessen my love for book or movie. As Mayes said, each is simply a different translation of the same life story. And both perfectly capture the beauty of Tuscany, the culture and hospitality of the Italians, and the adventure of living as an expat.

Interesting tidbit: some real characters from the memoir made cameo appearances as extras in the movie! Mayes wrote that, when she saw one of the local citizens polished and dressed up one day, she thought someone had died in this family. Turns out, he was just working as an extra on set for the movie about her life! Ha! Life and art collide in funny ways.

4. If you're into Italian cooking, this book has several delicious recipes as well. Memoir has always been one of my favorite genres due to its trait of blending writing styles. Mayes tells her story through traditional narrative, journaling, poetry, and recipes--giving you a complete, intimate portrait of Cortona, Italy. Plus, some of the food just sounds downright stick-to-your-ribcage tasty. I can't wait to try out a few of her cooking suggestions. Trust me, she'll make you wish for a kitchen garden!

All in all-- this book definitely will go onto my "favorites" shelf. It certainly trumped the last book I read. Now, at Mark's urging, I'm moving on to a completely different type of story: the sci-fi classic Dune. Have you read it? I'm having a little trouble getting into the first few chapters. Mainly because there are so many made-up words I don't know. I have my doubts... but Mark insists its good so we shall see!

What's on your summer reading list? 

Share in comments-- I'm always looking for more reads!

Good Reads // Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins

These summer afternoons stretch lazily into evenings, like the rose and ochre clouds that stretch across the sunset. As the fireflies hover and pulse in the twilight, the outdoor temperature becomes perfect, the day's heat waning to a tolerable level. My favorite way to utilize the last of the sunlight is to kick back in a chair with the windows open, a glass of sweet tea in hand, and a good book cracked open in my lap. 

Last week, the book was Paula Hawkins' novel The Girl on the Train. After downloading this book on my Kindle, I devoured the story in just two days. Which is possibly the  fastest I've read a book in a long while. Once completed, however, I had mixed feelings about the story. So today, I wanted to share my thoughts on this bestseller and see if you're in agreement. 

Warning: if you haven't read the story, there are spoilers ahead!

1. The biggest irritation I had with this story was its portrayal of relationships. Every woman in the story was somehow being used by or using her significant other. Personally, I found this to be a somewhat pessimistic view of relationships. In fact, ALL the relationships in the story were somehow exploitative. Everyone used everyone else and seemed to place their own comfort or needs ahead of others. After awhile, I found myself wondering if anyone in the story was going to turn out to be a decent person. They didn't. And the conclusion did not leave you with any hope for their betterment in the future. I know... I know... Hawkins was showing us that you never know what's going on behind closed doors and that nothing is what it seems. But still. 

2. The unveiling of the murderer's identity was a bit of shock to me. The entire book, I was convinced that the protagonist Rachel had committed the murder. Occasionally, my spidey-senses pinged on the victim's husband, especially after he revealed his inner crazy. Were you surprised by the murderer reveal? When it became clear who'dun'it, I looked up from the book at my husband and said "GASP! I'm shocked!" Yes, I actually said the word gasp because occasionally I'm a dork. I suppose it had to be someone in the inner circle of characters, but I find it hard to believe that someone could be so deluded about their spouse's character. If your husband is an abusive, raving, murderous jerk... surely at some point it would reveal itself. See? Communication in relationships saves you from a world of hurt. Quite literally. 

3. The ending was about as lackluster as they get. The murderer dies. And then everyone drifts to the four winds, never communicating again. Rachel manages to achieve about three weeks worth of sobriety. Tenuous sobriety, I might add. There's no indication whether she's attending AA meetings, finding a job, or living on her own. Instead, she just remains her jumpy, paranoid self. I know, I shouldn't blame her. She went through a ridiculous ordeal. Yet I have to say, the whole time I read her character's POV, I found myself getting very irritated. She just couldn't pull herself together! I appreciate Hawkins' ability to portray an addictive, abused personality... but still. At some point, you want the girl to get over the breakup, pull herself up by her bootstraps, and face reality. But no. The book concludes with Rachel hopping on "her train"-- an act which seems to symbolize that she hasn't changed, that she's stuck in the same rut, committing the same errors, as unable to change track as the train she rides. 

All of this being said, The Girl on the Train was still a captivating read. While it wasn't the mind-blowing novel I expected from all the hype, I did enjoy it. Because of its thrilling pace, it still gets my "beach read" stamp of approval. 

What are your thoughts on the novel?

Good Reads // Longbourne

Today I thought I would share a review of my most recent read: Longbourne by Jo Baker, This book first entered my literary radar via a review on A Beautiful Mess blog. I had seen the cover displayed at our local bookstore Curious Iguana, but I never felt drawn to pick up the book. As a general rule, I don't read spin-off stories. The paperback industry of Pride & Prejudice spinoff novels is just too in-your-face lucrative. You know what I'm talking about... those novels with a scantily clad Mr. Darcy on the cover. With one glance, I consigned Baker's novel to this category.

I couldn't have been more wrong. Instead, Baker's novel Longbourne proved to be a page-turner that not only kept my interest but changed my entire interpretations of the Bennett-Darcy world.

Warning: if you haven't read the book, there be spoilers ahead.

1. Baker gives her readers a completely different view of Regency England. You're not led into the dainty parlors or escorted around the ballrooms. Instead, Baker plops you in the kitchen, the barnyard, or even out back at "the necessary." The famous Pride and Prejudice characters fade to the background while Baker's protagonists--the servants-- take the stage. Everyday aspects of life that Austen's contemporary readers probably already knew -- like how the washing was done or how the courses were served--are brought to light. Yet somehow, Baker manages to delve intrusively into the Bennett household without sullying the original story. Sure, you learn things like how annoying it was for the servants to clean the Bennett girls' "monthly napkins" and how frustrating Elizabeth's muddy jaunts across the English countryside were to the servant cleaning her clothes and boots. But these revelations don't lower Austen's characters. Instead, these details render the Bennetts more human somehow, more believable.

2. The protagonist Sarah is just as gutsy and memorable as Elizabeth Bennett, maybe more so. And I love her. Because Elizabeth Bennett has been such a beloved character of English literature for nearly two centuries, I was a little worried about Baker's ability to create a character who could stand out despite the long literary shadow cast by Austen. Yet Sarah certainly stands as her own person. She is headstrong, brave, and opinionated-- and isn't afraid to stand up for herself or fight for what she truly wants. I especially appreciated that she didn't wait to be rescued by the dashing gentleman. Instead, she went out and found him and rescued him. 

3. All that being said... I do somewhat feel like Baker was a bit harsh in her portrayal of Darcy and Elizabeth's marriage. The final chapters of Longbourne extend beyond the tale of Pride and Prejudice and give you a glimpse into life at Pemberly after the Darcy wedding. This life, as portrayed by Baker, seemed a bit of a letdown. A demure wife, Elizabeth seems to lose her spark and individuality, becoming instead this polished, sophisticated lady. Suddenly, it seems Elizabeth is so concerned with the "Darcy name" that she cowers at others' opinions of her. Next thing you know, she's pregnant with one of what Sarah assumes will be many children, since "that is what a man like Darcy needs." Reading this, I thought sheesh. I couldn't help but wonder if the modern-woman Baker was looking back on the marriages of that time period with a bit too critical of an eye. As if her message was "Ya'll, Pride and Prejudice is just a fairytale. There was no prince. Here's the reality."  Of course, women did face a harsh fate of childbearing over and over again back then. But was the change in Elizabeth true to her wild, willful character? I feel like maybe not. However, Sarah's storyline is so interesting that you quickly forget about Pemberly.

All in all, I highly recommend this novel! If you're looking for a good beach-read, this may be it.

Have you read the story? If so, what are your thoughts?

Book Club // The Casual Vacancy

Welcome to the third installment of our collaborative Book Club series with my sweet friend Whitney Ann. For the month of May, we read and will be reviewing J.K. Rowling's first adult novel The Casual Vacancy.

Whitney's thoughts:

The Casual Vacancy takes place in the tiny English village of Pagford and is chock full of characters. No, really. There are more than 30 main characters in this book! At first, it was very difficult to remember each person's name as the book jumped between character story lines. Rowling takes her time setting the scene and introducing the routines and personality of each character, so it can feel slow at times. By the end of the book, though, I had grown used to the characters and their stories as if I was living in the little town with them.

Most reviews about this book say it contains troubling adult themes, like suicide, rape, violence, sex, etc. but those things really don't emerge as much until later in the story. Although the book starts off with the death of an influential town council member, the huge impact of that is not really conveyed to the reader until much later in the story. I don't think the death comes off quite as shocking as Rowling probably intended. It is not until later in the story when the effect of Fairbrother's death really comes to a head in a bang of heartbreak, death, and tragedy.

Andrew Price was my favorite character in the book. He is the son of Simon Price, one of the contenders for the vacant council seat caused by Barry Fairbrother's death. Andrew resents his father's domineering and abusive behavior and it is easy to see why. Simon abuses his wife and sons almost daily, both verbally and physically. Andrew is the one who kicks off a chain of events by hacking into the town council's website and posting anonymously as The Ghost of Barry Fairbrother in order to destroy his father's chances of being elected. After reading how Simon Price treated his wife and sons, I was silently cheering for Andrew as he took this brave, although anonymous step to get back at his abusive father. The anonymous messages quickly take on a life of their own and cause panic among some of the town members.

Ultimately, I was left feeling sorry for the residents of this small town. At first glance, Pagford appears to be a idyllic English village with a market square and central meat shop where town folk meet for lunch. The deeper you get into the novel though, it's obvious that the whole town is at odds with one another. There is a lot of back stabbing and pettiness. And, the casual vacancy caused by Barry Fairbrother's death just magnifies these faults even more, resulting in a crescendo of some of the biggest tragedies the town has ever seen. There is no magic in this book like in Rowling's other books — just stark reality that a town has to learn to come to terms with.  

Abi's thoughts: 

Ladies and gentleman, my name is Abigai Hobbs, and today I'm here to admit that I am a Potterhead. I absolutely adored the Harry Potter series as a child and teenager. Recently, I reread the series to see if it retained its magic for me and, yes, it did. So. When faced with JK Rowling's new novel, I felt both trepidation and excitement. Would I be able to read this novel without endlessly comparing it to Harry Potter?

As it turns out... yes and no. This novel is so far removed from the Potter world it isn't even funny. That being said, this novel is probably one of my favorite reads all year. 

From page one, this novel establishes itself as an adult novel. It is not a young adult novel, by any means. Honestly, I began to wonder if Rowling was using the word penis so many times just to firmly establish that point. As Whitney mentioned, Rowling unabashedly handles some very tough subjects: sex, unhappy marriages, abuse, drugs, mental illness, adultery, and government corruption just to name a few. So, on the one hand, I felt like this novel was a bit heavy-handed of a declaration that "yes, I can and shall write adult novels." On the other hand, I also appreciated her bare-knuckle approach to topics people typically skirt around. As a writer, I know how much bravery it takes to write in certain voices and to face certain subjects. Personally, I find it very difficult to write from the perspective of an abusive, angry father... so her ability to take on that voice is so awe-inspiring. But then again, this is the lady who gave us Lord Voldemort.

Which brings me to my second point...JK Rowling's characterization is spot-on. This novel depicts a town and, as such, has a town's worth of characters. Despite this vast number of characters, Rowling manages to bring each one alive through imagery, action, and dialogue. She flits in and out of narrative perspectives, telling the story from Andrew's perspective, then Simon's, then Samantha, then Sukhvinder, and so on. Yet each character feels alive and vivid; you can easily imagine each of them. So, if you're worried, JK Rowling's storytelling ability has continued beyond Hogwarts. She can bring  life and magic to humdrum everyday life, just as she did to her fanciful Potter world.

In fact, I believe this rich characterization itself is the key element of this novel. While the casual vacancy on the council seat is, as the title suggests, the driving force of the plot, the inner workings of the characters is the real story. Each character is consumed by his/her own reality, by his/her own interpretation of events. And each one is completely ignorant of the other's world-- often with disastrous results. There's just simply no way to reconcile these disparate worlds. 

As evidenced by the Harry Potter series, JK Rowling is not afraid to write a slightly didactic story. While Harry Potter's message was ultimately one of prevailing goodness and innocence, The Casual Vacancy seems to offer a more pessimistic message. The towns people are each so consumed in self that they are oblivious to hardship and need, even within their own families. Ultimately, this results in terrible loss, particularly Robbie's death, an act which seems the antithesis of youth and innocence prevailing in Harry Potter. Perhaps Tessa Wall's harsh reprimand of Fat's callousness and selfishness is, in fact, the point of the whole novel: a wake-up call to other's needs.

So one final question: why the grim ending? Why is Rowling's message in this adult novel so different from her message in young adult novels? Are children incapable of facing the reality of life: that it sucks, that its difficult, that good doesn't always win? Is "good prevailing" just a fairytale? 

What are your thoughts? 

Book Club // Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald

Welcome to the second installment of our collaborative Book Club series with Wit&Spice. This month, we will be discussing Therese Anne Fowler's novel Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald. Whitney put together some discussion points for us. Feel free to participate in the comments with your thoughts on the novel. You can use our discussion points or introduce your own. 

Whitney: Confession... I have never read The Great Gatsby or any other work by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I feel a little ashamed admitting that since he is known as one of the greatest writers of the 20th century. Because of my limited knowledge of Scott and his wife, I picked up Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald not knowing what to expect at all. I certainly didn't think I was going to become as captivated by their tale as I did. I'm curious how my opinions of these two famous characters match up with our readers' opinions — especially those of you who have read his novels and were acquainted with Scott and Zelda beforehand.

Abi: On the flip side, F Scott Fitzgerald is one of my favorite authors. Having read all of his novels and many of his short stories, I previously eyed Fowler's novel with trepidation. I didn't want this novel to somehow tarnish my vision of Fitzgerald or his work. Yet, as I held the book in my hand, I had to acknowledge that my education and perception of Fitzgerald may have been a bit skewed. I had read only his works and knew very little about Zelda.... other than brief blurbs in his biography, something along the lines of "his crazy wife." In fact, I wasn't even aware of her artistic or literary talents. Plus, Fowler's novel is just that: a novel. I had to remind myself that Fitzgerald and Z are characters, not necessarily completely historical representations of the real pepole. All of this aside... I have to say, this book may have become one of my favorites. 

1. Scott and Zelda's love story

Whitney: The novel begins in Montgomery, Alabama where Zelda lives with her family and Scott is stationed in the army. Although there's a war going on, it's a dreamy time — a time of dance cards, young love, and a whole world yet to explore. I was quickly pulled in by Scott and Zelda's love story, because I related to a lot of it myself. They were young and broke and had no idea what the future held in store, but as Zelda said, "We'll make it all up as we go."
As someone who also got married young without an established career, savings account, or any idea of what the future held, I was completely on board with Scott and Zelda's decision to throw traditional opinion to the wind and follow their hearts. They both had such an unabashed excitement and overall giddiness for life. Zelda expressed this so well when she first set foot in New York City and exclaimed, "All the clock works in my head are just spinning and springing apart!"

Abi: Ironically, my interpretation of their relationship was completely different. I found Zelda and Scott's first  interactions to be somewhat, well... immature and flighty. My immediate impression of Zelda was spoiled, ostentatious, and overly exuberant, while Scott seemed affected and idealistic. I first thought "Oh great... how am I going to get through an entire novel of these characters?" I couldn't help but doubt that they would ever make it together. How much of this was gleaned from their actions and how much was dredged up from half-remembered literary history... I'm not sure. Over the course of the novel, my skepticism turned to pity. I found myself rooting for them. Like "come on, guys, you can make this work!" To me, it seemed like they loved and lived in the wrong time. They were too much, too intense, too bright and too brilliant for their surroundings. The early 20th century was not a time in which women could really shine intellectually or artistically. Because of this, I think they burned each other out. Instead of holding each other up, they began to compete and resent each other. Yet it does say something about their love that despite the numerous pitfalls, they could still express love to each other. 

2. Our opinion of Scott

Whitney: At the beginning, I loved Scott's straightforward way of courting Zelda — as if there were no other option than to make her fall in love with him. After reading more, though, I realized this was the way Scott went about everything. Once he set his mind on something, he wasn't going to change it. While it was endearing when he was courting Zelda, it became less charming later on.
I started to dislike Scott early on in the novel and, once I got to the part where he tells Zelda to get rid of their possible baby, I was completely done with his character. When Zelda found out that she wasn't actually pregnant, she wrote: "Things have a way of working out for us, and this is just one more sign." The thing is, I don't think Scott believed that. He wasn't one to just sit around and wait for things to work themselves out. I feel like he was going to plow his own way ahead and woe to anyone or anything that got in his way. I grew tired of the selfish comments he would throw around and was so mad when he insisted that they name their baby Scottie after him (even though I think the name Scottie is adorable for a little girl). I was doing a silent fist pump in the air when Zelda finally told him off that night on the balcony after he accused her of trying to sabotage him.
For the rest of the book, my dislike for Scott just kept growing. Maybe I'm being too harsh on him. Do you think his behavior was acceptable given the attitude of the time pertaining to women and their place in a marriage? What did you think of him sending Zelda off to be "re-educated" and learn how to be a dutiful wife. I was steaming by that point.

 This book left me wondering if Zelda really had mental health issues like so many others, including Scott and Ernest Hemingway claimed, or if she was just a victim of her circumstances? I think Scott was too eager to push Zelda into an institution and claim that she was ill. And I think Zelda accepted it because, in some capacity, it brought some welcome structure to her otherwise chaotic life.
.
Abi: Like Whitney, I couldn't help but doubt Zelda's supposed "mental health issues." I think she instead suffered from intellectualism and talent-- two traits declared lethal by the male-dominated society in which she lived. Every time I read about her 'reeducation," I just wanted to moan in exasperation. How could a cruel treatment like that be real? But then, that type of seemingly idiotic diagnosis was apparently normal for that time period. In my opinion, Fowler seems to be using the Zelda character as a way to poke at the traditionally male literary canon. The great, white, male authors (most notably for this book, Fitz and Hem) dominated the scene only because they had the power to shuffle the equally talented female author off to a "spa" to "recuperate from womanly illnesses." Often, Zelda refers to rivers, oceans, and large bodies of water. She compares herself to these entities and finds comfort swimming or at the beach. Traditionally, water is a symbol of femininity and the unknown. Her intellectual, creative, and actual voices were silenced and controlled.

And yes, the Scott character did profoundly frustrate me. Yet, the more I read, the more I began to pity him. I began to wonder if he was playing a part. Society demanded that he be a literary genius, a powerful man, a firm husband. He had no tools, no frame of reference from which to approach interacting with an intellectual woman. He wanted the beautiful wife, the trophy on his arm-- not someone as smart as Zelda. He expected to be her support and livelihood... and when he realized she could practically support herself? Was just as talented as he? His role fell apart. The sham of his character was exposed. The word that came to mind when reading Scott's character was "emasculated" -- not so much by Zelda but by the society that commanded he act the way he does. And I believe that Zelda's concerns--near that end of the novel-- that Scott is homosexual underscore this concept.

3. A little kindness goes a long way

Whitney: This may sound strange, but I thought this book had a lot of lessons that are applicable to marriage, especially since most of the book centered around Scott and Zelda's fraught marriage. Zelda even warned a friend once to not pattern her marriage after their own. I think Scott and Zelda never learned how to live together. They knew how to have fun and chase after wild adventures together, but once that subsided they were left staring at each other's glaring faults and unable to look past them.

When they were living in Saint-Raphael, there's a scene where Zelda gets angry at Scott for going out with his buddies rather than working on his book. Scott lashes out at her and accuses her of doing nothing but "flirting with flyboys and laying in the sun" all day. They were each so caught up in their own emotional worlds that it was hard to put themselves in the other's shoes. Scott was feeling dejected and unproductive. Zelda was feeling lonely and purposeless, and the result was two people who took their feelings out on each other rather than showing kindness. Maybe that wouldn't have solved all their problems, but I think letting their frustrations simmer below the surface for so many years ultimately led to a deep resentment of one another.

Abi: Fowler's portrayal of a fractured marriage did caution me too. Scott and Zelda were constantly at odds, constantly competing--so much so that their union and even their health dissolved beneath the strain. Not too be too didactic here, but what a warning. Mark and I are both ambitious people. We each have our goals and our dreams. Fowler's novel certainly made me pause and consider our own pathway. Are we supporting each other? Are we doing everything we can to help the other actualize their individual goals? Part of being married is being the other person's support. Fowler's Scott and Zelda certainly fell short here, something that could be all too easy a trap to fall into. 

Here are some questions that we're curious to hear your opinion on:

• Do you think Zelda was manipulating Scott by refusing to marry him until he made a name for himself?

• What did you think of Scott's insistence that they only hire strict nannies to care for Scottie? What is that about? It seems so out of character for him. 

•  Do you believe that Hemingway really was to blame for the disaster Scott and Zelda made of their lives?

• What did you think about the book overall? Therese Fowler admits in the prologue that almost all accounts of Scott and Zelda are either Team Scott or Team Zelda. It's understandable why this novel leaned more towards Team Zelda since it is, after all, a novel about her life. Do you think it is a fairly accurate representation of their lives and personalities? Or do you think it's a little too biased against Scott?

Book Discussion: Where'd You Go Bernadette

Co-authored with Whitney Torres

Welcome to the very first book discussion of our Book Club collaboration with Wit& Spice. As our readers may know, our first book is Maria Semple’s mixed-media, comedic novel Where’d You Go Bernadette.

I realize you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but this novel’s quirky little face kept popping up in every bookstore I frequented. Displayed on their best-seller table, the book depicts a cartoonish doodle of a lady, complete with red lipstick, scarf, and over-sized sunglasses. Her surprised little expression and the book’s praises caught my attention and motivated me to propose it as our first book club selection.

Before we dive into the discussion, we friendly caution that—if you haven’t yet finished the book—ye be warned, there be spoilers ahead.

Overview:

While most books can be easily summed up in a sentence or less, "Where'd You Go, Bernadette" refuses to be shoved into a single description. I loved that about this story.

Few authors could concocted a tale with as many twists and turns without it sounding utterly ridiculous. Maria Semple weaves the tale of a once-famous architect, a high-ranking Microsoft employee, and their brainy daughter -- all living in a rainy little corner of Seattle. Seems pretty normal, right? Add in a gaggle of Seattle school moms, an FBI investigation, and the Russian mafia disguised as a virtual assistant from India.

Then you have a story that you'll not soon forget. 

Semple leaves traditional narrative style behind and tells the story through a series of emails, memos, letters -- even bills and receipts. It reminded me of another one of my favorite reads, Love Rosie by Cecelia Ahern. Not everyone is on board with this style of writing, but personally I love it. I think it's such a fun and interesting way to piece a story together. 

In-Depth:

1. the use of mixed-media

Several reviewers lauded Semple’s use of mixed media in this novel. What did you think of it? Did you find it distracting or well-executed? Personally, I love the use of mixed-media in creative writing. The mixed-media format accentuates that this story is about Bee piecing together the facts and lies about her mother’s disappearance. As you read the novel, some of the “pieces” overlap or become disjointed, just as they might in real life. You can imagine Bee’s confusion as she fits the pieces together to create the multi-faceted story of her mother’s life. My only complaint about Semple’s execution of mixed media is the use of faxes as personal correspondence. …I mean really, who uses a fax that way?

2. a love-hate relationship with the characters

When I first began reading this book, I loved 15 year-old Bee…and disliked all the  others, including Bernadette. I saw her as a whiny, neurotic grump-butt who wasted her day doing…well, not much. Elgie seemed removed, a cold, absentee parent focused entirely on his career,  while the fluttering flock of private-school moms seemed a bit too intense, fakey, and rude. (But then again, we did always view them through Bernadette’s over-sized sunglasses.) When Elgie began his scheme to have Bernadette committed, my dislike for his character intensified, although I was inclined to agree that Bernadette did need professional help. Yet as the book progressed, my feelings for the characters did change. Reading about Elgie’s confusion and angst over Bernadette’s disappearance provoked some sympathy for his character. Once we discover Bernadette’s past life, finally find her in Antarctica, and realize that she did try to contact her family, my opinion of her character did a complete about-face. Her actions seemed less selfish and more pitiful. She was a creative soul, sucked dry by her career failures, her miscarriages, and other’s misjudgments. 

But isn't it so easy to let that exact thing happen to us? We squelch our personal happiness and let our relationships erode under the burden of work and the fear of “what others might think.” Bernadette did what many never have the bravery to do: she refused to bend backward any longer and made a drastic change.

3. the use of setting as an objective correlative for Bernadette’s psyche

One thing that stood out throughout the entire novel was Semple’s stylistic use of setting as an objective correlative for Bernadette. The two main examples would be their home Straight Gate and later Antarctica. We learn that Bernadette bought Straight Gate, an abandoned, dilapidated girl’s school, with the intention of re-designing it as her family home. Just as she did with the Beeber Bifocal factory, Bernadette aimed to transform something empty, ugly, and useless into something loved, functional, and beautiful. But hher creative outlets stymied, Bernadette fell into a half-life and moved into Straight Gate without renovating even one aspect of it. Semple repeatedly describes Straight Gate’s faded glory, it’s crumbling walls, jammed doors, and rotten floors. There’s even one scene in which Bee’s friend screams that a ghost is moving under the rugs when it’s actually blackberry vines poking up through the foundation and floor to pucker the carpets. How awful is that? Like Bernadette, the house is crumbling to the point of collapse and is viewed as an eyesore and oddity to other women in the community.

           

In total opposition to Straight Gate, Semple then gives us Bernadette in Antarctica. She describes it the vast frozen landscape as a vicious place, demanding of its inhabitants. In this intense, harsh place, Bernadette finds herself again—as does her daughter Bee and husband Elgie. Faced with the architectural design challenge of creating a research station at the South Pole, Bernadette regains a sense of purpose and becomes a focused, fulfilled person once again. She rises to the challenge of Antarctica, becoming hard, resilient, driven. Why Antarctica? Because how much more exotic can you get? While Straight Gate teemed with life, like the invasive blackberry vines and brambles, but symbolized Bernadette’s artistic death, the frozen desert of Antarctica, with its white snow and blue ice, perhaps symbolized Bernadette’s redemption.

4. the overall theme

In my opinion, Semple’s overall theme would be the desperate need to be yourself. Bernadette spent years squelching her creativity and hiding from the world—only to lose herself and her

family in the process. Fortunately, her daughter Bee refused to let her mother remain lost.

Bernadette was attempting to be a stay-at-home, private-school, SUV-driving mom, but was

truly an award-winning architect and creative genius. When faced with failure, she abandoned

her true identity and strove to be someone she was not. However, as exemplified by the end of the novel, it’s better to admit who you are—your dreams, your fears, your failures, your successes—rather than to let yourself crumble. After all, as Bee and Elgie demonstrated, your loved ones love you. They chose you. If you suddenly cease to be you, eve for some well

intentioned reason, you’re only hurting them too.

Where'd You Go, Berndette? is one of those stories you'll pick up again and again, trust me. It has easily slipped its way onto our all-time favorites list. Now what did you think of the book? Feel free to use our discussion points as spring-boards or tell us your own thoughts. We're excited to hear!

Stay tuned for updates on our next read!