Book Thirty: Assembling Georgia by Beth Carpel

Moving back into the world of book reviews this week I approached this novel with a bit of skepticism. A debut novel with little publicity swirling around it and clearly published by a small publisher (self publisher?) with little publicity. Like the big companies know what they are doing?

Beth Carpel's debut novel reminds us of what so many authors today seem to lack -- the gift of storytelling. Why is literary fiction afraid of the mysteries we encounter in life, instead engaging in the backward recitation of a plot we later piece together. Few writers can handle that style with success. Carpel apparently missed the class on how a novel is supposed to work and instead turned out a novel which runs as smoothly as the motorcycle around which the story centers.

Like the motorcycle, this book has some crashes and parts which need to be repaired, but overall Carpel has turned about a well-oiled story. Georgia is the central character and her life of underachievement is interrupted by the weekly arrival of motorcycle parts to her home. With no clue as to who is sending her the parts or why, Georgia's final package includes an instruction manual and the next step is obvious. Not a mechanically inclined person (or so she thinks) she gets the help of her Uncle Emery, one of more interesting characters to show up in a novel in recent memory. Emery lives up north in the woods of Minnesota digesting a range of books and fixing things up in return for what he needs. He takes Georgia in and together they work on building the motorcycle and rebuilding Georgia's life, or as Carpel puts it "Assembling Georgia."

Carpel holds the mystery of who sent the parts hidden for quite some time, although in the end the discovery is as anti-climatic as life usually is -- some poetic license here would be allowed. Along the way we meet Georgia's good friend Corrine, which shows that level of friendship in which the relationship is always strong no matter what the distance between times connecting with each other may be. A childhood acquaintance, Frank, also gets a starring role as we get caught up on his past troubles and current struggles, all of which are encased in a likable man who seems to be as adrift as Georgia.

Once the bike is built Georgia does the quintessential road trip, giving her time to learn more about herself than she realized she was missing. Characters come in and out and Carpel manages to create strong characters with a few deft strokes. Once the ride is done she is again faced with life, but we now see a woman who is ready for future challenges. The readiness is good as Carpel is not done throwing challenges at her, but at the risk of spoiling the plot we leave that to the reader.

Carpel is not subtle about her intentions, and whether that is the result of a first novel writer trying to make a point or simply an honest writer, the result is a story which invites the reader along rather than daring them to continue. In fact, the unanswered questions in this novel keep the reader moving quickly since the element of suspense works well. We want to know how Georgia turns out. We want to know who sent the motorcycle. We want to know what demons Frank is facing but will not share with anyone. Carpel tells a good story and we keep wanting the story to go on. She recognizes this by giving us an epilogue, which fast forwards us seven years, but she could have left it out because we knew where her characters were going.

Even when the story stutters, as with some faltering dialogue and a few too many touching moments, the result is still endearing in its open attempt to draw the reader in to another person's life. Carpel's characters are real and easy for readers to relate to. They are complex people who make good decisions and bad decisions and sometimes no decisions at all. At times you want to yell at them, and at other times you want to be on the back of their motorcycle. There are no angels or demons here, just ordinary people not only making the best of what life offers them, but learning to create something when they do not like what they have been handed. Call it a coming of age story for the middle aged -- or for people of any age who need renewal. How many novels can you say that about?

Carpel's website is worth checking out, especially after reading the book since she gives the photo version of Georgia's motorcycle trip.

Reading Challenges

I really thought his book was going to be a challenge, but it was a fast and enjoyable read. Whenever I look forward to getting some time to read I know I'm on the right track. Now next week...

Coming Up

I wanted to get in the Christmas spirit with A Christmas Carol, but cannot find the edition I have that I really want to read. Plus, I get to read 17 research papers in the next week. Yikes! I forgot about that challenge when coming up with this book a week idea. This could be tough! But I'm choosing a shorter book which has just a bit of praise (including a Pulitzer), Jhumpa Lahiri's "Interpreter of Maladies" -- a collection of short stories. I already read and really liked the first story so it should all work out.

Book Tweny-Nine: A Mercy by Toni Morrison and 29(b) A Village Life by Louise Gluck

Toni Morrison has already cemented her place in the literary world (the Nobel prize helps) and although not a prolific writer, she rarely misses. Beloved has to rank as one of best novels of the 20th century and makes my all time short list. It is the type of book which reminds you of the power of a story to physically wear you down -- reading that novel is an interactive experience.

A Mercy, Morrison's ninth and latest novel, is a short work (167 pages) that reaffirms Morrison's gift for drawing a reader in and not allowing them to simply "read." While it lacks the final impact of Beloved, it is nevertheless a moving addition to her legacy. This time Morrison takes us back to America before the U.S., when slavery is beginning to take hold but the slaves may be African, Native American, or indentured white Europeans. It revolves around the family that Jacob Vaark creates. Vaark has inherited land he does not know how to farm, but he has an eye for making money. While refusing to be involved directly in the slave trading business, he does own a Native American slave, Lina, has taken on a girl rejected by others, Sorrow, and finally takes a girl as payment on a debt owned whose mother encourages the deal to improve her daughter's lot. With his wife Rebekka they form a small, unusual family. Vaark's boys all die in infancy, and his daughter is killed after being kicked by a horse.

Morrison's characters are strong. This is a book without saints and sinners, instead populated by humans with a tendency toward inconsistency -- in other words, normal people. Vaark is a compassionate owner with a strong moral sense of the indecency of slavery, but he ends up making money in the rum business which he knows is built on the muscle of slaves elsewhere. Lina is for some years his coworker and equal, but she is not above drowning a new born infant to save her from a mother she considers unfit. Florens, the young girl he takes on, is content with life until love enters and defeats her.

By creating such characters Morrison challenges the stereotypes of people and institutions with which we are too familiar. Lina, the Native American, knows she should understand the art of healing, but she was taken too soon from her mother. The quiet Rebekka comes from a life where family entertainment consisted of watching hangings and quarterings. These people are more complex than they appear. We learn about them slowly as Morrison forgoes the traditional narrative timeline and instead presents the tale in a Faulkneresque style of letting different characters tell the story and the use of flashbacks. Indeed, like Faulkner (I'm not sure Morrison will like being compared to a white, Southern male, but oh well) we see the story as the crumbling of paradise. It is not just a crumbling of Vaark's paradise (although the serpants engraved on the gate clearly mean something!) but of the soon-to-be-born United States.

Although not a central character, the story of Sorrow (who later gives herself a new name), turns out to offer the most hope in this dismal landscape. Once her story is told we understand her why she is given such a name, but it is she who is successful in reinventing herself and forging a new future. Florens seems to have the most chance of success, but when she does truly own herself she loses her own value. Lina appears as the strongest, but she is tied to the family she cannot be part of and lacks the courage to step away.

Morrison's greatest accomplishment here is perhaps creating a novel which has the potential to be only bleak, but she shows hope and goodness trying to get through. While in the end most of it fades, characters like Sorrow give the hope we need to make such stories bearable. It is not because we like make-believe stories; instead, it is because hope is part of our fabric and we are drawn to its reality in Morrison's work.

Louise Gluck's A Village Life will continue Gluck's leading role in American poetry, although it presents a more narrative style than her earlier work. We are presented with a unnamed, vaguely Mediterranean setting in an unclear time. In other words, the focus here is on the people.

The theme is familiar, but Gluck's presentation is unique. Here people, you and old, are faced with the reality that life moves forward whether they are ready or not. Indeed, our own choices may move the direction slightly, but finding our ultimate destination is clearly something we do not control. While we expect this in the older people facing death, Gluck knows that such experiences are not lost on the youth.

In "Noon" we find the tale of a "boy and girl" heading out into the meadow where they talk and picnic.

The rest--how two people can lie down on the blanket--
they know about it but they're not ready for it.
They know people who've done it, as a kind of game or trial--
then they say, no, wrong time, I think I'll just keep being a child.


But your body doesn't listen. It knows everything know,
it says you're not a child, you haven't been a child for a long time.

As the poems move on we see that many of these youth listen to their bodies and find their life now laid out for them. Some go away and come back, but they only suffer more.

To my mind, you're better off if you stay;
that way, dreams don't damage you.

This theme of longing for what we cannot have continues with age.

My body, now that we will not be traveling together much longer
I begin to feel a new tenderness toward you, very raw and unfamiliar,
like what I remember of love when I was young--

While all this starts to sound like another aging poet becoming depressed over life, Gluck is not complaining. Instead, even as seen in the stanzas above she finds those moments in life to enjoy and sees change, no matter how much we resist it, as a normal part of life. These changes in our lives are inevitable, but not to be mourned. But she is intentional about recognizing where we are and living in the moment we have.

In "Walking at Night" we see an older woman who takes advantage of the fact that men no longer desire her to take her walks at night where "her eyes that used never to leave the ground/are free now to go where they like." She is rejuvenated by her age and situation and seeks nor needs any pity.

This joy is seen best in "Abundance," a glorious ode to spring which celebrates its newness while recognizing its transience. A boy touches a girl "so he walks home a man, with a man's hungers." The fruit ripens, "baskets and baskets from a single tree/so some rots every year/ and for a few weeks there's too much." The mice scamper through the harvest, the moon is full, "Nobody dies, nobody goes hungry" and the only sound is "the roar of the wheat." Gluck calls on us to revel in these moments without fearing what has preceded and what is to come.

Much of Gluck's intent is seen in three poems all entitled "Burning Leaves." As the leaves burn we are left with little, but the burning is important in creating room for the new. We are offered no promise of anything more.


How fast it all goes, how fast the smoke clears.
And where the pile of leaves was,
an emptiness that suddenly seems vast.

But while the fire is burning, it has life.

And then, for an hour or so, it's really animated
blazing away like something alive.
...
death making room for life

Gluck has created a volume that will benefit from repeated readings, and her easy, unhurried rhythm makes the return that much easier. She has the gift of all great poets in seeing the commonplace, and finding in it a celebration of life as it is.

Reading Challenges
Okay, this is starting to get old, but really this is not much of challenge with a good book. Morrison's book was a two night read and well spent time. I read Gluck's work over three nights and reread much of it as well.

Up Next
Back to a review book. Actually, I posted my review of Gluck on Blogcritics, but I (unfortunately) was using a library edition instead of a free book. Next week I'm reading "Assembling Georgia" by Beth Carpel, a debut novel.

Happy reading!

Book Twenty-Eight: Angry Candy by Harlan Ellison

As we are about to enter into the season of Advent, how appropriate that I read a book themed around -- death? But for Harlan Ellison, death is not always the end of the story. In fact, in many cases death is the start of the adventure. I had not heard of Ellison before a friend of mine not only recommended him, but put this book in my hands. Prolific would be the defining word for this author who has over 1,000 stories, novels, screenplays, etc. to his claim. He has penned episodes for The Twilight Zone  and Star Trek, and won numerous fantasy and science fiction awards.

This collection is, according to Ellison in his introduction, "the twenty-second or -third or -fifth book of stories I've done." With no disrespect to his fiction, the introduction is the best part of this collection. It opens with death of his friend, Emily (whose death also appears in a couple of the stories) and Ellison's "insensitive" but honest eulogy. Listed next to the text on two pages are 44 deaths which touched him in a two-year period. In some cases they were close friends and in other cases acquaintances, but the overwhelming amount of death clearly shook the hardened writer. He is angry about the deaths and the pain the losses create and this book is his attempt to come to grips with what he has experienced.

Which brings us to the last story, "The Function of Dream Sleep," in which the main character momentarily sees a mouth with teeth open near his stomach. When he goes to get help he eventually ends up with a group of people who take on the pain of others, but the character's pain is so great he actually kills several of them. Where does his pain come from? The loss of friends (including an Emily) which he has not been able to deal with in a positive way. He eventually seeks out a guru type figure who informs him the pain is from the dead whom he will not let go. He is told to "Let the mouth open...let the wind of the soul pass through, and take emptiness as a release." We end the book with "when he cried for them, he was, at last, able to say goodbye." The process is complete and Ellison seems to have worked through his anger and let his friends go.

The stories in between the introduction and final story hit a range of topics, times, and creatures, but they all deal with death. The problem with prolific writers is usually that the quality ranges as well, and Ellison is no exception. Some of these are forgettable ("Escapegoat") and Ellison is prone to the last sentence surprise ending, like the ending of some bad jokes. But when he hits a story well it is well worth the effort. "Laugh Track" is a creatively written story in which a man follows his deceased Aunt through the years as her laugh shows up on laugh tracks over the decades. The twist is that the laugh track keeps her alive and he is able to connect with her, setting her off in a new direction. The story not only has a interesting premise, but shows a sense of humor as well -- a welcome diversion in this heavy book.

The best story is the opening "Paladin of the Lost Hour," in which human temptation is all that holds us back from chaos as one person holds the key to a lost hour in time. Should the hour be used for personal reasons the time will disappear and the world will disappear. Ellison manages to make the holder of time both human and other worldly as he finds a new person to protect time.

One of the more disturbing, yet most powerful, stories is "Broken Glass" in which a woman combats a rapist who enters her mind. Trapped on a bus she knows one of the men on the bus has entered her mind and raped her, but she does not know which person it is and he continues to taunt her. In the end she realizes she must use her mind to combat him. "On the Slab" is another standout in which a creature on display shows it is not yet dead, but there are those who want him that way. The "owner" goes from seeing this as a money-making venture to true compassion for the creature, and the relationship is touching.

Of the seventeen short stories here a good editor could have dropped eight of them to make this a stronger book, but I get the impression that at this stage in his career Ellison calls his own shots.  There are a couple of Ellison "essential" collections on his 35th and 50th writing anniversaries, which may be a better place start. But Ellison is definitely a writer who should drop into most people's reading lists at some point.

He has also led a lively existence full of controversy, wives, and general mayham which you can read more about at Wikipedia if interested.

Reading Challenges

Thanksgiving week actually means a slower week for me so this worked out well. The book is not short and some of the stories dragged (and tired me out), but the good stories flew by and the book ends with some strong pieces. Even managed to grade 2/3 of some papers I needed to get out of the way and read some other reading blogs on one night.

Up Next

Two books this week A Mercy by Toni Morrison. Beloved ranks as one of my all time favorite books and this books somehow ties into that and is getting strong reviews. I'm also going to get in a new collection of poetry from Louise Gluck.

Book Twenty-Seven: Love in Infant Monkey by Lydia Millet (plus a bonus Christmas CD recommendation)

Lydia Millet has received a lot of praise for her work and is seen by many as one of the best writer's in the U.S. Stepping into her world for the first time with her collection of stories, Love in Infant Monkeys, shows a writer willing to take risks in her material. The collection revolves around animals, be they pets, circus elephants, or even the lions from the movie Born Free. Millet further layers the collection with real life celebrities or historical figures so in the course of the book we see David Hasselhoff, hear the musings of Madonna, learn of the religious leanings of Thomas Edison, and witness a confession from former President Jimmy Carter -- and there are more. Many of the stories are based on true stories of animals with famous people, although Millett takes artistic license and uses them as springboards.

The result is a strong, if uneven, collection with the famous names at times proving to be a distraction and at other times an annoyance. The book opens with Madonna pondering a range of ideas as she looks over a dying pheasant she has shot in "Sexing the Pheasant." The animal here serves as a catalyst for her thoughts, but the focus is on Madonna and her musings on celebrity life, her husband's friends, and her attempts to conquer English phrases. Madonna is such an easy target to make fun of that she is hardly worth the effort; this story could be written by some talented undergrads with a sense of humor.

Such entries are frustrating when you see Millet's skills in a story such as "Sir Henry," a moving tale of a dog walker who is forced beyond his dog world when he suddenly recognizes humanity which rises to the level of, well,  dogs. Sir Henry, a dachshund, belongs to a famous performer, but this means nothing to the dogwalker. He likes the dog because of the dog itself, not any association. He walks the dog with "Blackie," who belongs to a dying violinist who asks the walker to take the dog after he dies, which by the violinist's own admission will be soon. The request goes against the walker's own protocol, but he is moved enough to consider it and begins to see the violinist and his caretaker in a new light. We do not hear the final decision, but it is the questioning which is enlightening. Toward the end of the story Millet reveals that Sir Henry's absent owner is David Hasselhoff, who bestows some glancing attention on the dog when he accidentally meets up with the walker in the park. The walker hears the excited reactions of those around him, but is clearly not moved by the connection. The question is, why throw this diversion in what is an otherwise strong story. Millet shifts the reader's attention in a way the dog walker himself escapes, and the rationale is not clear.

Millet does better with less "celebrity" people such as Thomas Edison and Nikola Tesla. Although not as well known today, Tesla was a influential inventor who counts the radio among his creations. Millet focuses on his death as debt laden scientist living out his life in the Hotel New Yorker. Tesla develops a moving relationship with one of the maids, and the story is told from the viewpoint of another maid who knew both of them. In the story Tesla is devoted to pigeons who share his apartment, causing the maids to spend extra time with the man. Millet's building of the relationship is as light and touching as the relationship itself. That Tesla was famous does not impact the story significantly. Instead of celebrity watching we simply see humans at their best as they try to help one another. Millet has a gift for finding emphasizing the human emotion without cheapening it, in part because the animals serve as a foil to the human characters (and at times this is reversed).

Humor is also an important part of the collection, and is best seen in "Jimmy Carter's Rabbit," which takes on Carter's famous oar defense when a rabbit swam toward his boat at one point during his presidency. As a former President, Carter pays a surprise visit on a childhood friend who is now a psychologist. As children they were involved in an incident which caused the boy and his family to leave the town, and Carter has come to offer a belated apology. The humor comes as the psychologist tries to figure out Carter's real reason for visiting in what is a clearly an attempt not to focus on the incident Carter wants to discuss. A similar sense of avoiding reality shows up in "The Lady and the Dragon" where a billionaire Indonesian businessman purchases a Komodo dragon who had bitten Sharon Stone's husband at a zoo. The businessman hopes to use the animal to meet Stone, with whom he is obsessed, and when one of his employees cannot contact the real one he instead hires a sexually willing substitute. 

The title story uses the real life experiments of Harold Harlow on monkeys as its basis. While Harlow is going against his colleagues in the 1950s and calling for mothers to be more loving, he gets his theories by isolating and thus torturing monkeys. While he claims no love for the monkeys, he pushes away his nightmares about the animals by drinking too much. With his own wife dying at home he spends all his time on his work, and the story ends with the nightmare of a mother monkey screaming for her baby. "He knew the feeling of loss that would last till she died."

Overall we can see Millet using the animals as a way for us to see ourselves differently. She shows a respect for animals most writers do not have by showing they are worthy of our attention as they are. In addition, as Millet any pet owner knows, animals often show us more about ourselves than we are comfortable knowing.

Reading Challenges

Tough motivational week! This is a short book so I though it would be an easy week, but you can see that although I liked the book I was not running to it every night. Perhaps it was post-six month anniversary depression? I also had a very busy week at work and was a bit exhausted in the evening, not to mention working two of the nights. So this is a week I read because I had to since I could have easily gone comatose in front of some movie (any movie) on t.v. But hey, who said this is all supposed to be easy?

Next Up

Harlan Ellison's Angry Candy. This came as a recommendation from a friend who thought I could use a bit of weirdness in life. He noted that Ellison wrote some episodes for the Twilight Zone and Star Trek, and promised a unique read. I asked my oldest son about him and he said the same things, so the weirdness was confirmed. I read the introduction standing up because what I thought would be a quick glance turned into a ten-page read. I've almost finished the first story and really like it, although the ending promises to be crucial.

CD Review: Hot Club of San Francisco's Cool Yule

I wrote this review for Blogcritics and thought I would include it for fun. Hot Club of San Francisco appeared on my artists series last year and were great! This CD is a fun listen and highly recommended.

 

Another Christmas recording? As certain as the rising of the Christmas tree is the annual release of a plethora of Christmas recordings from a variety of artists and genres. Classical guitar for Christmas? No problem. An accordion fan? Relax to Rudolph on the squeezebox. "Fill in the name" pop star doing the standards? Several available for your choosing. So here comes the Hot Club of San Francisco to add some gypsy jazz from the smoke filled bars of ...uh...San Francisco to the mix?

But relax. Here is a Christmas recording offering something a bit different and worth listening to in the midst of the season. The Hot Club of San Francisco may not be a mainstream ensemble, but they are generally considered one of the best gypsy jazz groups in the U.S. For those not familiar with the genre, gypsy jazz is an acoustic guitar dominated format created by the incredible guitarist Django Reinhardt with violinist Stephane Grappelli in the smoky bars of Paris in the 1930s. The name of their group was the Quintette du Hot Club de France, and gypsy jazz groups often attach the "Hot Club" title to their own city. The quintet arrangement holds with the Hot Club of San Francisco which is led by guitarist Paul Mehling and violinist Evan Price, along with bassist Clint Baker, and rhythm guitarists Jeff Magidson and Jason Vanderford.

Mehling's gift as a leader has been to honor tradition while not being afraid of stretching the genre. In this recording he clearly moves beyond the normal library and also employs several guest singers and other ensembles to offer some new sounds. The result is a wide ranging, but solid, recording of a variety of Christmas classics. The quintet takes on Vince Guaraldi's "Skating" from "A Charlie Brown Christmas" and pairs it with the traditional "Carol of the Bells," and then soon jumps to "Baby, It's Cold Outside."

While gypsy jazz music is not afraid of the scorching solos, it also relishes the slow, quiet rhythms of the late night. At times it is a bit too slow ("The Christmas Song"), but when balanced with the moving Applachian song, "I Wonder As I Wander," you can hear the power of the slower sound.

Those looking for the upbeat sounds which have captivated so many listeners will not be disappointed. Mehling's arrangement of "Jingle Bells," here called "Djingle Bells" in homage to Reinhardt, is a gem which should be a new Christmas standard. Even "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town" benefits from gypsy sound as it finds new life in this rendition. They even manage to add a great deal of life to the difficult to like traditional song, "March of the Toys." These songs feature the Hot Club of San Francisco without their guests and the comfort of the band is clear -- they have a lot of musical fun with one another which shows a camaraderie extending beyond the music. They also extend the tradition with the best over-seven-minute version of "Auld Lang Syne" you may ever hear.

That this CD is successful comes as no surprise since the basis is five excellent musicians. Mehling is a gifted guitarist with an ear for the soulful and the skill to pull off some blistering solos bound to make most guitarists give up in frustration. Price is equally talented as a violinist and can either blend in the background or drive a song forward at will. But gypsy jazz also needs a strong rhythm section, especially since it does not include any drums. The percussive and bass sounds are amply handled by Baker, Magidson, and Vanderford.

So in the midst of the holiday chaos grab this CD to get a respite from the rush. Or if you know someone with an openness to some unique musical sounds, you have a stocking stuffer at hand. You are not likely to find this is mainstream CD outlets, but it is worth the internet search.

Book 26: Love Begins in Winter by Simon Van Booy (and 26A-C: Three Christmas Graphic Novels)

Week 26. Half way to my goal! Of course you've already read my comments on this, but if not, see above! This week's main book reminds me of why I'm doing this. The excitement of finding a new writer which impacts your world view is rare, but worth the wait.

Love Begins in Winter is a collection of five short stories written around the theme of love. Yes, love. In today's cynical world it is hard to find many talented writers who can celebrate love without making it sound like a bad Hallmark card. Van Booy not only succeeds, he excels. These are exquisitely written stories which show us a writer with the ability to see the many shades of love through a variety of fully drawn characters with a variety of experiences.

The title story is a short masterpiece of writing. We meet a world famous musician who is cut off from the world and people as he remembers the loss of a young companion. We are also introduced to a woman who lost a beloved brother at a young age and has struggled with companionship since then. If you hope for love at first sight, you find it in this story in a way which is remarkably above any lustful look. Instead, kindred souls recognize one another and begin what is the process of loving. Van Booy knows love can happen quickly, but even a loving relationship takes time to develop. This does not give away as much of the plot as it sounds since the story's constant progress is its plot.

"Tiger Tiger" shows the surprising places and way love appears, even across generations. A young doctor and her boyfriend see the dissolution of his parent's marriage as they work on their own relationship. When she receives a book her boyfriend's family doctor had written years before she passes on reading it, but when she looks over it a few years later she realizes he had written about children with an insight and love not expected from a single man. In other words, love shows up in unexpected ways.

"The Missing Statues" is a beautiful short story about how the power of love from years before can move a young man to tears with a simple reminder. Van Booy explores the many ways love appears, and in this story we see the simple caring of the stranger as a gift of love. Love's intensity is seen most clearly in "The Coming and Going of Strangers," where the love of a Romany Irish gypsy for a Canadian girl he does not know is beyond reason. The end provides a unique twist, and while Van Booy is never above the surprise ending, upon reflection they are never as surprising as they seem.

He ends the book with "The City of Windy Trees" in which years after the fact a man a one-night stand has given him a child. As he seeks out to reconnect, the power of love to transform a person is nearly overwhelming. And here we see one of Van Booy's clearest themes as his characters move from isolation to love, seeing the gift of love for what it is -- an act of grace beyond our control, but open to our reception.

The fact that Van Booy pulls all this off without becoming sentimental is a testament to his understanding the topic he addresses. He avoids the idea of love sick strangers staring longingly into one another's eyes. Instead, his characters often resist the idea of love until the reality hits them, which emphasizes the power love has in our lives. How wonderful to find a writer who intelligently celebrates what so many of us do experience even in a world seemingly devoid of love. 

Visit Simon Van Booy's Website

The publisher HarperCollins has created a new imprint called It Books to capture the popular culture audience, so it is no surprise they would release three graphic novel representations of three Christmas stories While their publicity claims these are Christmas classics, few will be familiar with L. Frank Baum's "A Kidnapped Santa Claus" which is adapted here by Alex Robinson. Baum, better known for the "Wizard of Oz," created a short fable about Santa who is kidnapped in flight by the demons Selfishness, Envy, Hatred, and Repentance. His work is carried on by four helpful assistants who know how to get the sleigh around, but mix up the presents the children are receiving. All could be lost, but never count out the magic of Christmas. Robinson adds a small love story and a great deal of humor to Baum's story, which seems perfectly suited for the graphic novel format. Robinson's stark black and white illustrations are either filled with details or clear in their simplicity, depending on how he wants to move the story forward. Of the three books released, Robinson's style will be the most familiar to those with a long history of comics with several panels on a page and balloon text throughout.  His adaptations to the story are an improvement and worth seeking out.

The truly classic "The Gift of the Magi" by O. Henry gets a retelling by Joel Priddy. The story of a young couple selling their prized possessions to purchase each other a gift is well known to most through a variety of adaptations. Priddy also keeps the colors simple, mainly black and white although at times with a bluish tint, that is until Della's legendary hair is revealed. From a black and white bun comes a wave of orange which cannot be contained in even two pages and only disappears slowly as the hair goes back into hiding.  The impact is immediate and successful in its attempt to portray the beauty of the hair to the reader. He keeps very close to the story itself, omitting just a few lines which he can easily show, and he moves the story along at the leisurely pace in which it was written. Many pages contain no text as Priddy gives us a glimpse into the couple's private life which he plays out at times with full pages, at times with panels, and often a mix of arrangements. The book opens with several pages setting the scene without text as we see a store window version of the magi give way to the snow and our story; as the story ends he takes away from the domestic life and out into the stars as O. Henry's text puts the story in perspective. Priddy's adaptation rescues the story from the numerous sentimental versions in existence by allowing O. Henry's voice to be heard, and providing a vehicle which enhances the story.

 

Lilli Carre's adaptation of Hans Christian Anderson's "The Fir Tree" adds more than a splash of color to the trio. She also keeps very close to the text, which is too bad since the story of a short tree full of self pity sounds like just so much whinnying in today's world. Written over 160 years ago, Anderson's readers may have been more sympathetic than many of us to the "victim" format. But Carre takes Anderson at his word and her illustrations reflect his work with little comment. In fact, the book feels more like a picture book than a graphic novel as her simple, yet beautiful, illustrations reflect the text but stand alongside it rather than being involved. It is a lively book, but would benefit from having the illustrations frame the story.

If It Books is hoping to hit a more pop culture audience than this is the right method. The small books are created with the possibility of being stocking stuffers this holiday season, and they would be a good fit for many stockings.

Reading Challenges

As you can see I did plenty of reading and writing and actually finished all this by Friday. Van Booy's novel is a quick read because it is so good. Do not rush through his book because the writing is too good to miss, but be it still will not take long. I have a busier week coming up, but the collection I'm reading is short.

Next Up

Which brings me to the interestingly titled "Love in Infant Monkeys" by Lydia Millet. After this I'm caught up with my review books and I have a couple of others I want to read, but I'll get some new books ordered soon. 

Happy reading!