1. Unnatural Selection: Choosing Boys Over Girls, and the Consequences of a World Full of Men, Mara Hvistendahl
This is such a timely, shocking, thought-provoking book. On some level, I think we all knew this was happening. I mean, who doesn't know about the one-child policy in China? But the wide-spread nature of this across Asia and the Middle East, the use of our seemingly-harmless ultrasound technology, and the devastating consequences of an unbalanced sex ratio (buying brides from other countries and higher rates of crime and war, to name just a few) needed to be discussed, and this book is a great vehicle for the start of those conversations. This rarely appears in the media, and this book was all over NPR for weeks.
My only critique is that Ms. Hvistendahl spends hundreds of pages documenting the devastating consequences of sex-selective abortion, and on at least one occasion calls it murder--but then spends a bewildering 50 pages concluding that a.) women should have a choice in regard to abortion (even if that choice is to abort female babies) b.) It's Reagan's and the Republican's fault that this happened (despite openly documenting Planned Parenthood's significant part in the forcible abortion and sterilization of women, a corporation which has never been aligned with the Republicans) and c.) there's not really all that much we can do about it. Her research is impeccable and not once in the previous pages does she shy away from uncomfortable truths about Americans and our hand in this. But at the end, it's just as if she needs to reassure herself that CHOICE IS OK. I don't knock her right to have an opinion about abortion (I certainly do), but I feel as if the book would have been better if she hadn't gone to such lengths to bring in her personal opinions and political alignment.
Other than that, it was impressively well-written, well-researched, and eye-opening. I recommend it (but maybe skip the end).
2. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larrsson
I put off reading this book for the longest time, assuming (wrongly) that something that many celebrities adored could not possibly be any good. But it was, truly, a revelation. Lisbeth Salander is a kick-ass, very flawed, self-doubting, damaged punk computer hacker...which means she's unlike any character I've ever read before. I loved the dichotomy of confident and hesitant, determined and damaged. It made her seem real, and much more believable than your Lara Croft-style one-dimensional action heroine. The plot of this book is a fast paced political mystery thriller (did such a thing exist before this?), and has really got me interested in the history and political climate of Sweden. I swear I am going to read more by Swedish authors...I'm hoping the success of the Millennium Trilogy means there will be more Swedish books translated into English and sold on the mainstream market. I've read a Henning Mankell book already and enjoyed it as well. I look forward to returning to this book in the future to pay a visit to Lisbeth.
3. As Always, Julia, edited by Joan Reardon
This was my first nonfiction book of letters, and I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed it. I've read epistolary novels before and liked them, but this book (letters between Julia Child and her friend/pen pal, Avis DeVoto, regarding the genesis, writing, and publication of Julia's first cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking) was moving, hilarious, insightful, and all the more wonderful for being true. I desperately want Avis as a friend, and have gone back to read through my copy of French Cooking (a Christmas present I begged for last year) with renewed insight and enthusiasm.
I am glad that I read My Life in France, Julia's autobiography, prior to reading this so I had some foundation for the background story, and I admit that the Democratic politics of the day had me a little lost (and, at times, bored), but for the most part these ladies were fantastic writers and reading their letters is more like having a conversation with them than I had imagined possible. Julia is so full of joie de vivre and cooking gusto it's inspiring to a foodie and cookery lover like myself, and Avis is every English major's editorial dream. I found myself wishing throughout the book that I could have been present at any point just to have witnessed them in action. Julia Child continues to fascinate me and serve as my cooking idol...I fully plan to read any book on her I can get my hands on (but only it if it says very nice things).
4. The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins
I will say this about the Hunger Games before I say anything else: It is, primarily, a Young Adult book, and the writing suffers as such. It's overly simplistic in places, the plot line is at times thin and
BUT, how often do you come across dystopian, Orwellian YA novels that have a plot you can't find anywhere else? Not often, is the answer. The Hunger Games' premise is so compelling I couldn't help but be sucked in. In a post-apocalyptic society, North America has been reorganized into 13 districts and is controlled with an iron fist by the Capitol and the exceedingly creepy, bloodthirsty President Snow. Each year, two teenagers from each district must compete in the Hunger Games, a battle to the death televised for every citizen to see as a reminder that the Capitol has the power to do, essentially, anything they want and that everyone is a pawn in their control.
Enter Katniss Everdeen, our 16-year-old heroine, who's grown up underfed, oppressed, and responsible for her family's well-fare in District 12, formerly Appalachia. Katniss is, as Lisbeth, equal parts confident and full of teenage confusion and thus believable and accessible. After Bella Swan, a YA heroine with a mind of her own and the skills to be independent is a breath of fresh air and, in my opinion, just what young girls need to be reading. She's like a futuristic Jo March (always one of my favorite literary characters) so, despite its flaws, I recommend this series to anyone looking for a good read.
5. East of the Sun, Julia Gregson
This is only the second book I've read set in India (the first was Lauren Willig's The Betrayal of the Blood Lily), but East of the Sun far eclipsed the first. Told from the perspective of Viva, an orphan in her late twenties who's had a series of poor jobs and bad relationships in London and decides to volunteer as a chaperone to India, the book presented both the wonder and beauty of India as well as the positives and negatives of British colonial control. Set in the volatile period of the 20s, when British colonial control was nearing its end, its presentation of a country in the midst of a dramatic change is well-written, compelling, full of well-rounded characters who take the length of the book to truly discover who they are and what they want, and then go out and get it.
I also like that it's told from a British perspective, but by characters who respect Indian ability to govern themselves and be people in their own right, instead of "White Man's Burden", Rudyard Kipling-style. I couldn't put this book down, and when it ended I wished it could go on forever.
6. The Help, Kathryn Strockett
I actually picked this book up in the library before I heard any of the hype about it; since then I've read just as many extremely negative reviews as positive ones. I think I liked this book for several reasons; one, I grew up in the South with friends who had black nannies similar to Abileen's, so it was comfortable and familiar; two, I liked the characters, especially Abileen, Minnie, and Skeeter, and thought they were well-rounded, with good intentions as well as flaws (you can probably tell this is a very important aspect of literature for me); and three, having grown up learning about Civil Rights and how most white people either actively worked against it or stood aside and let atrocities go on, it was refreshing to read a character who actually did something.
I know many people didn't like this book for the mammy stereotypes, the simplistic, black-and-white (literally) views of civil rights, etc., but I found that it was, for the most part, realistic and reflective of the society I grew up in, even 25 years after this book took place. This is an aspect of Southern history that most of us aren't proud of and try to hide, but it did happen and I think it's important to remember the small triumphs that occurred as much as the big ones. Skeeter's expose of the lives of the black help was small (and, of course, fictional), but it was something. I think her character gives us the hope to think that we, too, could have done something if we were given the opportunity. We could have avoided the "White is Might" frenzy, and stayed true to ourselves and what we knew about humanity.
So, was it a simplistic, stereotypical view of the South in the 1960s? Well, possibly. But it's no less poignant for that.
7. On Agate Hill, Lee Smith
This is a book about the South that is as far from The Help as it is possible to get, and just as wonderful. The main protagonist, Molly Petree, is one of my favorite heroines ever (see my post on it here); if Anne of Green Gables had lived in Civil War North Carolina and faced unimaginable hardships, she might have turned out like Molly.
Lee Smith's writing style recalls both Anne and Jane Eyre, and she writes of the setting (near Chapel Hill) so vividly I can recognize it even now. Since I already wrote a post on this, I won't go on--but read it. It's worth it.
8. The Buccaneers, Edith Wharton
Edith Wharton is one of the only American writers who writes stories about America that I actually enjoy. I was especially attracted to this book because a large part of it is set in Newport, Rhode Island--summer home to the Vanderbilts and the other fantastically wealthy New York families in the late 1800s/early 1900s. I've been moderately obsessed with the Vanderbilts ever since I went to Blenheim Palace in Woodstock, England--Consuelo Vanderbilt's first husband's family home (I'll pause while you think about that.)
I also love Edith Wharton because she always has at least 2 plots operating simultaneously, but they blend so seamlessly you hardly even realize it. In this book, the four main characters, single women who all get married and go on to live lives of varying degrees of satisfaction and happiness, each get their own storyline eventually. I think what I love most about this book is the honest writing--it gets behind the glittering Newport facade to the actual feelings and day-to-day realities of the characters. Edith Wharton's books are usually fantastically depressing (I'm looking at you, Ethan Frome and Age of Innocence) but this book had an ending that was at least satisfied, if not exactly happy. This could be because it was finished by an Edith Wharton scholar (it was unfinished at her death) but I like to think it was because she believed her characters deserved some happiness, after all this time.
9. The Edwardians, Vita Sackville-West
I've come across references to this book in more Edwardian histories than I can count, so I finally decided to just read it. And I have to say--it blew all those Edwardian histories out of the water.
I've always found the writing style of the 1920s, when this book was written, very enjoyable (P.G. Wodehouse is a particular favorite), so combining that writing style with one of my favorite subjects (Victorian/Edwardian aristocracy) and there's just no way I couldn't love this book. Vita Sackville-West was an insider to this society and it shows--the characters are so authentic they practically scream "Make me a BBC miniseries!". (She was very open about basing her characters on actual people she knew). She has the habits and mannerisms down so exactly, right down to their weird affectations and made-up speech, that this book is like reading a true life dramedy version of every book ever set in the period. And that's a good thing. You simultaneously felt for the characters and were annoyed at their extravagance, their lack of purpose, their silly day-to-day activities...in other words, all the feelings you get when thinking about the Edwardians wrapped up in one novel.
This book has the feel of an expose combined with a love letter, and that is something I've never encountered before and am not likely to again. I highly recommend this book (and then go read Juliet Nicolson's The Perfect Summer: England 1911 for the non-fiction version).
10. The Forgotten Garden, Kate Morton
2. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larrsson
3. As Always, Julia, edited by Joan Reardon
This was my first nonfiction book of letters, and I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed it. I've read epistolary novels before and liked them, but this book (letters between Julia Child and her friend/pen pal, Avis DeVoto, regarding the genesis, writing, and publication of Julia's first cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking) was moving, hilarious, insightful, and all the more wonderful for being true. I desperately want Avis as a friend, and have gone back to read through my copy of French Cooking (a Christmas present I begged for last year) with renewed insight and enthusiasm.
I am glad that I read My Life in France, Julia's autobiography, prior to reading this so I had some foundation for the background story, and I admit that the Democratic politics of the day had me a little lost (and, at times, bored), but for the most part these ladies were fantastic writers and reading their letters is more like having a conversation with them than I had imagined possible. Julia is so full of joie de vivre and cooking gusto it's inspiring to a foodie and cookery lover like myself, and Avis is every English major's editorial dream. I found myself wishing throughout the book that I could have been present at any point just to have witnessed them in action. Julia Child continues to fascinate me and serve as my cooking idol...I fully plan to read any book on her I can get my hands on (but only it if it says very nice things).
4. The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins
obvious, and the love triangle, well, I had enough of that in Twilight to last me a lifetime.
BUT, how often do you come across dystopian, Orwellian YA novels that have a plot you can't find anywhere else? Not often, is the answer. The Hunger Games' premise is so compelling I couldn't help but be sucked in. In a post-apocalyptic society, North America has been reorganized into 13 districts and is controlled with an iron fist by the Capitol and the exceedingly creepy, bloodthirsty President Snow. Each year, two teenagers from each district must compete in the Hunger Games, a battle to the death televised for every citizen to see as a reminder that the Capitol has the power to do, essentially, anything they want and that everyone is a pawn in their control.
Enter Katniss Everdeen, our 16-year-old heroine, who's grown up underfed, oppressed, and responsible for her family's well-fare in District 12, formerly Appalachia. Katniss is, as Lisbeth, equal parts confident and full of teenage confusion and thus believable and accessible. After Bella Swan, a YA heroine with a mind of her own and the skills to be independent is a breath of fresh air and, in my opinion, just what young girls need to be reading. She's like a futuristic Jo March (always one of my favorite literary characters) so, despite its flaws, I recommend this series to anyone looking for a good read.
5. East of the Sun, Julia Gregson
This is only the second book I've read set in India (the first was Lauren Willig's The Betrayal of the Blood Lily), but East of the Sun far eclipsed the first. Told from the perspective of Viva, an orphan in her late twenties who's had a series of poor jobs and bad relationships in London and decides to volunteer as a chaperone to India, the book presented both the wonder and beauty of India as well as the positives and negatives of British colonial control. Set in the volatile period of the 20s, when British colonial control was nearing its end, its presentation of a country in the midst of a dramatic change is well-written, compelling, full of well-rounded characters who take the length of the book to truly discover who they are and what they want, and then go out and get it.
I also like that it's told from a British perspective, but by characters who respect Indian ability to govern themselves and be people in their own right, instead of "White Man's Burden", Rudyard Kipling-style. I couldn't put this book down, and when it ended I wished it could go on forever.
6. The Help, Kathryn Strockett
I actually picked this book up in the library before I heard any of the hype about it; since then I've read just as many extremely negative reviews as positive ones. I think I liked this book for several reasons; one, I grew up in the South with friends who had black nannies similar to Abileen's, so it was comfortable and familiar; two, I liked the characters, especially Abileen, Minnie, and Skeeter, and thought they were well-rounded, with good intentions as well as flaws (you can probably tell this is a very important aspect of literature for me); and three, having grown up learning about Civil Rights and how most white people either actively worked against it or stood aside and let atrocities go on, it was refreshing to read a character who actually did something.
I know many people didn't like this book for the mammy stereotypes, the simplistic, black-and-white (literally) views of civil rights, etc., but I found that it was, for the most part, realistic and reflective of the society I grew up in, even 25 years after this book took place. This is an aspect of Southern history that most of us aren't proud of and try to hide, but it did happen and I think it's important to remember the small triumphs that occurred as much as the big ones. Skeeter's expose of the lives of the black help was small (and, of course, fictional), but it was something. I think her character gives us the hope to think that we, too, could have done something if we were given the opportunity. We could have avoided the "White is Might" frenzy, and stayed true to ourselves and what we knew about humanity.
So, was it a simplistic, stereotypical view of the South in the 1960s? Well, possibly. But it's no less poignant for that.
7. On Agate Hill, Lee Smith
Lee Smith's writing style recalls both Anne and Jane Eyre, and she writes of the setting (near Chapel Hill) so vividly I can recognize it even now. Since I already wrote a post on this, I won't go on--but read it. It's worth it.
8. The Buccaneers, Edith Wharton
I also love Edith Wharton because she always has at least 2 plots operating simultaneously, but they blend so seamlessly you hardly even realize it. In this book, the four main characters, single women who all get married and go on to live lives of varying degrees of satisfaction and happiness, each get their own storyline eventually. I think what I love most about this book is the honest writing--it gets behind the glittering Newport facade to the actual feelings and day-to-day realities of the characters. Edith Wharton's books are usually fantastically depressing (I'm looking at you, Ethan Frome and Age of Innocence) but this book had an ending that was at least satisfied, if not exactly happy. This could be because it was finished by an Edith Wharton scholar (it was unfinished at her death) but I like to think it was because she believed her characters deserved some happiness, after all this time.
9. The Edwardians, Vita Sackville-West
I've always found the writing style of the 1920s, when this book was written, very enjoyable (P.G. Wodehouse is a particular favorite), so combining that writing style with one of my favorite subjects (Victorian/Edwardian aristocracy) and there's just no way I couldn't love this book. Vita Sackville-West was an insider to this society and it shows--the characters are so authentic they practically scream "Make me a BBC miniseries!". (She was very open about basing her characters on actual people she knew). She has the habits and mannerisms down so exactly, right down to their weird affectations and made-up speech, that this book is like reading a true life dramedy version of every book ever set in the period. And that's a good thing. You simultaneously felt for the characters and were annoyed at their extravagance, their lack of purpose, their silly day-to-day activities...in other words, all the feelings you get when thinking about the Edwardians wrapped up in one novel.
This book has the feel of an expose combined with a love letter, and that is something I've never encountered before and am not likely to again. I highly recommend this book (and then go read Juliet Nicolson's The Perfect Summer: England 1911 for the non-fiction version).
10. The Forgotten Garden, Kate Morton
This book is like a magical fairy tale whose dark, slightly evil counterpart is constantly trying to break through. Told from the perspective of three women, Victorian orphan Eliza, her abandoned-at-a-young-age-on-a-ship-to-Australia (surrogate) daughter Nellie, and Nellie's granddaughter Cassie, each strong female characters whose lives twist and turn in ways they didn't forsee themselves. It takes all three storylines to uncover the mystery at the heart of the Garden, and I absolutely didn't see it coming. Traveling from rural England to Australia and back again, incorporating a fantastical book of fairy tales, new-fangled x-ray technology, infertility, loss, love, and a spectacular cast of characters, this book is unlike any other. Kate Morton has a knack for writing stories that aren't trite or worn out (her other books, The House at Riverton and The Distant Hours are both very unique, if not quite as good as this one), whose characters have a realistic ending unlike the plastic fairy-tale ones that are so often written at the end of "chick lit". From the minute I started reading I was transported to a different world, and when I finished, I wished I could stay.
That's all for this year! Go forth and read!
