The Darling

I have not read any other novels by Russel Banks, so I wasn't going on reputation; either my pal Anne Zald or I picked this up at ALA Midwinter and it rose to the top of my reading pile this summer. It was challenging to start but eventually so compelling that I had to finish. It is set largely in Liberia between 1975 and 1991, with some portions set in New England prior to that, and in upstate New York 10 years after that period. The plot is incredibly complicated, but revolves mainly around Hannah Musgrave, who was raised by a liberal white family, and left medical school to become a political radical. Her activities resulted in her having to go underground and assume a new name, and eventually events required her to leave the country--or so she thought. Because of her medical training, she was always able to find low level lab work and eventually she ended up in Liberia, when Tolbert is president, and marries a minor government minister, Woodrow Sundiata. She bears him three sons and becomes the opposite of what she been heretofore; where she was outspoken, opinionated and independent, now she is nearly silent and directionless. Some of this is no doubt due to finding herself part of a tiny minority of whites in a country ruled by one corrupt government after another. The CIA, Russia and anyone else interested in the diamonds and other resources of this tiny West African nation are constantly bribing and pulling strings and the ordinary people as always suffer; while those at the top become abusive in their power. Tolbert is assassinated in 1980 and succeeded by Samuel Doe, who is in turn murdered by Charles Taylor's rebels 10 years later. (I found a brief chronology here.) Although her husband survives the first coup, he does not survive the 2nd and we know early on in the book that he is dead. We also know that she abandoned her sons and a sanctuary she had created for chimps, and came back to America to buy and run a farm in the Adirondacks. What we don't know initially is why and how these things happened and that is what keeps you coming back. I was reminded of the award winning movie, Pray the Devil Back to Hell, about a group of women who finally put a stop to the killing under Taylor's regime. The incredible cruelty and violence --to men, women, children and animals--simply sets me back on my heels. The NYT Review describes the protagonist in this way, "Banks takes the risk of evoking the kind of woman whose love for animals is more passionate than her love for humans -- including her children. But he succeeds in making Hannah sympathetic, if not always likable." I couldn't agree more.

Portraits of Creative Aging

As I approach my 60th birthday and hopefully a not-too-distant retirement from my current job, I can't help but wonder, "What comes next?" This book by Joan Kadri Zald (the sociologist aunt of my colleague Anne Zald) is a collection of interviews with people who have retired and gone on to new careers, expanded interests and hobbies, and/or social activism. They inspire the reader with multiple examples of finding tremendous satisfaction in service to others, pursuing previously unfulfilled passions, or finding new directions altogether.  She sought to represent elders from ages 60-90's, of various cultures/ethnicities and geographic bases. A concluding chapter pulls together her observations about what characteristics these folks have in common: "passion and commitment...for the activities in which they were engaged" (p.221), meaningful and important endeavors that added "excitement and zest to their lives" (p.221). There were also some necessary preconditions: financial security, freedom from a full-time caregiving role, social connections, maintenance of cognitive and physical functioning. Their paths and undertakings are diverse and there is a lot here to chew on...I recommend it for all my fellow agers.

The Midnight Palace

Another YA novel from Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Midnight Palace did not engage me to the degree that The Prince of Mists or Shadow of the Wind did. As always, Zafón does an excellent job of capturing and conveying atmosphere and setting, this time of Calcutta, India in 1932. But the characters are not as well developed or engaging, and the plot feels more labored with a Star Wars revelation of paternity in the end that was somewhat predictable and not very satisfying. The protagonists are all just turning 16 years old, a time when they must leave the haven of St. Patrick's orphanage; these seven (6 boys and a girl) have bonded as friends and formed a secret club they call the Chowbar Society that meets periodically in an abandoned mansion--their "midnight palace." The leader of this group, Ben, is reunited with his heretofore unknown twin sister when their grandmother, Aryami Bose, returns to warn Father Carter that Ben is in danger from a mysterious man who wants to kill the twins. This threat, which began with the murder of the twins' parents, was the reason the infant Ben was left at the orphanage and Aryami fled with the other twin, Sheere, in 1916. Sheere is made an honorary member of the Chowbar Society and the group agrees to help the twins get to the bottom of the mystery and defeat the evil man who seems able to materialize at will in his quest to destroy them. The story is told as a sort of memoir by one of the original group of orphans, and closes in modern times with a post-scripted update on the fate of the other members of the Chowbar Society.

Born Under a Lucky Moon

First novel by Dana Precious who lives in L.A. but was born in North Muskegon, MI, the major setting of this book. Jeannie  is one of 4 girls and 1 boy in the Thompson family. Told from her perspective, the story moves back and forth between one very eventful year in her family's life, 1986, and her current life 20 years later. It's almost impossible to imagine a house with 5 women and only one bathroom, but that seems to be the least of their problems. This family has over the top things happen to them along with all the ordinary challenges and joys of living. When grandma's nursing home has to close for 2 months to renovate, they do not hesitate to take her in...even though she is prone to running out of the house without clothes, and finally, in her deteriorated mental state, tries to blow up the house by jimmying a gas line. It's a little hard to believe that children raised in such a loving and supportive family nevertheless seem to pick really bad marriage partners and live such out of control lives. But I could not walk away from the book, simply because I wanted to know what was going to happen next, and kept hoping things would end well--which they did. There are some--in my opinion--laugh-out-loud scenes, like that of Jeannie's dad trying to rescue a squirrel who has gotten his head trapped in the supposedly squirrel-proof bird feeder. The major characters are reasonably well-developed, especially Jeannie, her mom and dad, and the sense of small town place is palpable. Definitely an enjoyably read.

Her Fearful Symmetry

I keep meaning to read The Time Traveler's Wife, or go see the movie, but neither of these has happened. Nevertheless, I jumped into another book by that book's author, Audrey Niffenegger, and am now re-motivated to find TTW. Her Fearful Symmetry is an intriguing ghost story, filled with dysfunctional but mostly sympathetic characters, set in London in contemporary times. It opens with the loss of a love. Robert Fanshaw is writing the penultimate history of a nearby and venerable cemetary, Highgate, where lie buried some eminent remains, e.g., Karl Marx and Michael Faraday. His older lover, Elspeth Noblin, dies of cancer, but eventually finds that her spirit is still alive and aware and trapped in her old flat, one floor below Robert's. On the top floor of the building lives Martin, who has also been abandoned by a very much alive but fed up wife who can no longer cope with the restrictions imposed by her husband's obsessive compulsive disorder. Elspeth has left a peculiar bequest. Her flat and estate is to go to twin nieces, Valentina and Julia, who she has never met. The conditions of the will are that they must live in the flat for one year before disposing of her estate, and they must never allow their parents into the flat. Their mother was Elspeth's estranged twin. Until this time, the twins have never ventured very far from their home in a posh suburb of Illinois, except for a couple of abortive attempts at college. The plot thickens as the twins arrive and begin to grow apart, Elspeth finds she can make her presence known in increasingly obvious ways, Robert begins to fall in love with Valentina who is perhaps not really Elspeth's niece, Julia befriends Max and starts slipping him drugs, and a wild kitten is temporarily tamed before its spirit is stolen. The plot is ingenious  and you won't know all the intricate twists until the end.

Bamboo and Blood

James Church (pseudonym) is, according to the Christian Science Monitor, "one of the most respected analysts of North Korea in the Western intelligence community, with extensive experience both inside and outside that country." It is the little details of daily life in one of the most isolated and secretive countries in the world that bring his stories such richness.
Inspector O, James Church's North Korean protagonist, has gone back in time -- making this a prequel of sorts to his other novels in this series (Corpse in the Koryo and Hidden Moon). All the essential elements are there: clues that aren't supposed to be followed, cases that aren't supposed to be solved, intricate maneuvers and manipulations aplenty. Set during the famine years of the 90's in North Korea, people talk about loved ones starving to death with seeming resignation. There simply is no food--and that is the driver behind what turns out to be intricate attempts to buy, bribe or blackmail other countries into giving North Korea food. It strains credulity to someone raised in an ostensibly democratic society like the United States that Inspector O does not seriously consider defecting when he is given ample motive and opportunity. He is the most dogged of investigators following each thread until he can weave them into whole cloth, in spite of people kidnapping and even trying to kill him. As a reader, I am drawn in with him, never giving up on trying to figure out how everything is connected, even though the odds are against a solution.
Reviews from Publishers Weekly,  Christian Science Monitor, and Kirkus are all uniformly laudatory.

Reading for the NYRA

Although I haven't posted much here lately, it was because I was swamped with reading books for the Nevada Young Readers Award--NYRA (we were working from the 2012 reading list). Lots of grown ups (mostly librarians) read books nominated by kids in different age categories and then have a video conference to narrow down the nominees to about 6-8 in each bracket for final voting. I read in two categories--though not all of them in any category--the final nominees haven't been posted yet. Most of them I could definitely leave rather than take, but these are my personal favorites of those I read:
Junkyard Wonders by Patricia Palacco. Young Readers level with beautiful colored drawings. Wonderful autobiographical portrayal of special needs kids and one truly inspirational teacher.
Two books by Peg Kehret, Runaway Twin and Stolen Children. Middle readers with positive girl role models. The latter was my preferred book, but there was a good dog character in the former.
The Clone Codes by the McKissacks. Also middle reader set 160 years in the future when clones are discriminated against and treated as non-human, much as slaves were in earlier times. A little heavy handed on the didactic message, but still an interesting read.

The Popularity Papers by Amy Ignatow (also the illustrator). Middle Reader. This is definitely one of the best books I  read—very funny and with a genuine sense of the voice, dialog, perspective of two 5^th grade girls trying to figure out how to be popular before they move to junior high next year. Done as a collaborative journal, complete with passed notes, drawings that vary in quality depending on the artist, and unique handwriting for the two main characters. They learn a lot about friendship. I love Julie’s observation about their attempts to become popular, “Just because you are next to a tomato doesn’t make you a tomato.”

The Lost Children by Carolyn Cohagan. Middle Reader. Tend to agree with Kirkus Reviews that this is rough with missing transitions, but also has a lot of promise. The opening line is great, “ Josephine Russing owned 387 pairs of gloves.” The ending is contrived and confusing. But the heroine is brave and loyal and those are good things. 

The Immortal Fire by Anne Ursu. Middle Reader. Snarky and tongue in cheek narration make this romping adventure to save the world from mythical creatures gone bad pretty enjoyable. Similar to Percy Jackson’s books but with a MUCH more jaded view of the Greek gods who are depicted as a bunch of spoiled brats. Strong teen characters, a little confusing about who is supposed to be the lead character. Both Charlotte and cousin Zee (Zachary) –aged 13, eighth graders--at times feel they are responsible for what appears to be the impending destruction of the world or the end of humanity—or both.

Hidden Moon

Second in the "Inspector O" series by pseudonymous author James Church, we are once again immersed in the Kafka-esque unreality of life in North Korea. A bank robbery--perhaps the first ever in the city of Pyongyang--leaves both O and his new boss Min guessing whether anyone really wants it solved. Everytime O pursues a clue, bodies disappear from the morgue, doors of ministries are shut in his face, suspects turn up dead or disappear. Then he starts disappearing. For days at a time he is taken and questioned in a dark room and beaten when the interrogators don't like the answers. Is this supposed to dissuade him from solving the robbery or "encourage" him to speed up his investigation. As with the first book, there is rampant mistrust and suspicion between government agencies and between representatives of government agencies and the rest of the populace. This book continues the amazing insights into a very secretive country that began with A Corpse in the Koryo. And Inspector O picks up where he left off in educating the reader about the particular qualities of wood--"there's a certain smugness to walnut that you can feel," whereas "acacia knew how to mind its own business and let a person think," chestnut is "very self-possessed wood," while persimmon is "very complicated. Difficult to understand." Who knew?! Thanks Anne for the loan!

Corpse in the Koryo

North Korean police Inspector O is in the unlovely position of being asked to investigate events that no one really wants the answers to. Much like Sonchai Jitpleecheep in Jon Burdett's books, or Shan Tao Yun in Eliot Pattison's series, there is danger is looking too closely when other government agencies want to keep things hidden. The book moves us back and forth between the interview room where Inspector O is being interrogated by an  intelligence agent from the West and the portrayal of the events he is recalling. In the cat and mouse game, it is never entirely clear who is on his side and who is manipulating him for their own benefit. We learn relatively early that his boss has died as has another government official of interest to his interrogator, so Inspector O seems freed to reveal what he knows. But he has been cagey so long, it's hard to stop. He has also not given up altogether on his country, in spite of the terrible abuses of power and rampant corruption. Although orthodox religion is never mentioned as a means of coping as it is with Buddhist protagonist Jitpleecheep, Inspector O does seem to rely on a connection with nature--specifically wood--instilled by his grandfather, to ground him when all else falls apart. I plan on reading the sequels, especially if I can entice my friend Anne--who turned me on to this book--to loan me her copies :-)

The Cobra

Frederick Forsyth burst onto the espionage and thriller scene with The Day of the Jackal in the early 70's and has consistently produced primarily clandestine operations best sellers in the ensuing years. The Cobra is his newest and, I found, somewhat disappointing novel. But then, perhaps that's the point. The writing, the details, the plot are not disappointing--just the outcome. There is no happy ending here. If the president of the United States gave you unlimited power and a virtually unlimited budget, could you stop the traffic in cocaine? That's the question posed to retired CIA operative, Paul Devereux, who was nicknamed The Cobra for his less than diplomatic dealings with people. After careful study, he agrees that he could, and through careful preparation, he proceeds to disrupt the flow of cocaine and turn the enemy inward to consume itself. But innocent people do die as the gangs begin to war with one another in response to diminishing drug supplies and strategically placed disinformation. And the United States would rather that kind of thing happened somewhere else, so Devereux is called off before the cocaine industry can completely self-destruct. It's fascinating to watch the man's mind work its way through what would be required. He does his research and keeps you reading as the machinations of his plan are revealed. The ending is probably realistic, even if the premise of the story stretches credibility--but I still wish it had turned out differently.