Book Log: September 2017

My youngest sister has been doing an annual post of books completed, and I always enjoy looking through it. I do keep a log of my finished books, so I thought cataloging my completed books at the close of every month would be a good way to dust off this blog and encourage me to jot down a few lines -- or a few paragraphs -- with my impressions (a compiled list will appear at the close of the year). I don't like spoilers, so while I put some initial thoughts after each title, when possible I'm purposely vague regarding plot specifics so as not to dissuade any of you from reading them. This is my second year doing this; here is a page containing the 2016 posts (or here is a list of all 2016 books, without the commentary on each one).

The included Amazon links are affiliate links; many of these titles I check out from the library or already own, but should you be inclined to purchase one, these links only mean Amazon will give me a small percentage of the cost, at no additional expense to you.

50) 9/4: Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

I don't recall where I first came across this book - I'm getting just enough recommendations sent my way that if I don't make a note as to who is suggesting I read a title, it's lost forever. However it ended up on my list, it received strong reviews, so it was worth the commitment to read the 600-plus pages.

We follow two primary characters and how their paths converge and separate. They meet in Nigeria as young adults, and they pursue different goals for their lives. Even though they both leave Nigeria for a season for different countries and lose contact, their experiences are similar.

Both learn what it is to be black - they grew up surrounded by others that looked like them, but when they relocate to countries where they become minorities, they have to process how they are perceived. Ifemelu, studying and working in America, begins blogging about race, and Obinze finds himself in London, trying to survive without the proper documentation to work there.

It's a good portrayal of the immigrant experience, and I find some of the conversations and insights returning to me.

51) 9/4: There Was No Path So I Trod One by Edwina Gateley

As I've mentioned before, I had the honor of hearing Edwina Gateley speak about two years ago. I bought two of her books that night, gifted some others, and then swapped with a friend to read the volume she'd purchased (actually, this was Edwina's own copy, but as they weren't selling any of those that night, she let Susie buy it off of her when Susie fell in love with a poem she read from it).

I've been feeling like I should get this book back into my friend's hands, so I did away with the leisurely pace and became more intentional about picking it up. I have little post-it notes attached all throughout the book with poems I wanted to copy down, so really, I just need to buy my own copy to have for myself (or here's a ready-made gift idea, if someone's looking to get me something).

52) 9/7: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows

You're not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but I admit that I will let a title woo me. I couldn't help but download a sample of this book way back in 2009, before I had a Kindle but I regularly used the app on my iPod Touch to read the first chapters of books for free before deciding it if was worth a trip to the library or bookstore.

I couldn't NOT give this book a chance with the most awkward sounding yet charming title. Add that it's an epistolary style, and I was a goner.

This book has a soft place in my heart for another reason, as well. I remember in the time after we lost Katherine losing myself in books when I just needed a break from the onslaught of emotions, and this book was one that found me and gave me something beautiful to read.

I had heard good reviews of the audiobook, so I gave it a try. It is as pleasant as reading it was. It is a cast recording (as the letter authors vary, so do the reading voices). And when I first encounter a book under a circumstance that might highly factor into my impression of it, I'm never quite sure whether or not to trust my first introduction. As it had been a few years since I read it, it was a pleasure to have parts of it be "new" to me, as the details had faded. It's worth your time.

It was also interesting to read it so close to 84, Charing Cross Road (just last month).

53) 9/9: Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson

I first read Gilead by Robinson (I reflected on it here) and I wanted to read more of her work. Robinson is not someone you can speed through - you really must pace yourself and absorb the words.

I decided to make it more difficult on myself and listen to this on audiobook. Immediately I found myself having to slow it down - I couldn't process all the words at the recorded speed. So I slowed it down, but then I tried to make it more complex by doing things like mowing the lawn, prepping food, and cleaning the kitchen (ah, audiobooks! I love the ability to make it through more books by having them read to me, but it often means I'm having them join me in my daily responsibilities).

Back to Housekeeping, though. I find it pales in comparison to Gilead, and it's more heart wrenching as we follow the lives of two girls abandoned by their mother and living with a series of family members. I don't regret reading it, and I know I want to read more of Robinson's work, but as far as recommendations go, I'd push people towards Gilead.

54) 9/11: My Name is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout

This was another audiobook listen for me. The book reads as a stream of consciousness, with Strout moving through timelines, but the anchor is her prolonged hospital stay. Lucy Barton is estranged from her parents, but when she's in the hospital, her mother comes to her side for several days. We get regular flashbacks from Lucy's life to help fill in some of the blanks. She had a traumatic childhood and is longing for meaning and significance since she missed those affirmations in her childhood.

All of us think our childhood is normal since it's our reality. It isn't until we grow up, talk with others, and witness other families that we get a sense for what aspects were standard and what varied widely. Lucy does plenty of processing and this hospital stay was pivotal for her as she weighed her childhood, her current family life, even her career as a writer. The book pales when compared to Olive Kitteridge, but it's still a good, interesting work.

55) 9/14: Another Brooklyn by Jacqueline Woodson

This must be the month for visiting other titles of several writers, but still not finding a title that surpasses my first encounter with them. Just as with Marilynne Robinson (Gilead over Housekeeping) and Elizabeth Strout (Olive Kitteridge over My Name is Lucy Barton), I suggest Jacqueline Woodson's Locomotion series and the memoir Brown Girl Dreaming surpass Another Brooklyn as far as quality.

My impression here might be due to the fact that Another Brooklyn is a more mature book of friendships and innocence lost. Additionally, I prefer the verse format in her other books.



56) 9/19: Peace Like a River by Leif Enger

This was the September book club selection, and it's a favorite of mine. I've read it a minimum of four times since being introduced to it in late 2004, possibly more.

I'm glad everyone, or nearly everyone, enjoyed it. I wasn't the only one who'd read it before, and there was a critical comment about how rounded all the characters were or weren't, but as a whole, it was well received.

I wrote more about it last year.



57) 9/22: Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor

This is a slow-paced book. I listened to this one and, while I didn't mind the topic, I wasn't sure if it was focused enough for me to listen through the entirety of the audiobook. I did make it through, and certainly some credit goes towards listening during the week leading up to my older daughter's birthday party. It was Harry Potter themed, and so this played in the background while I made Platform 9 3/4 as well as the poster board activities, the latter happening at 2 am when I was experiencing a bout of insomnia.

Barbara Brown Taylor reflects on ways faith communities, and people in general, shy away from darkness, both literal and figurative, but she attempts to make a case as to why we shouldn't avoid such seasons of life, how it can in fact be those times when we have the most growth.

58) 9/28: A Long Walk to Water by Linda Sue Park

When I student taught ninth grade, one of the interdisciplinary projects that I observed had students read a book about Iraq in their English classes and then discuss the historical context in Social Studies (I'm pretty sure the book was Kiss the Dust). At that age students can struggle to connect with what seems like detached facts far removed from their lives. However, this fictional account really drew them in and they could suddenly empathize with how it must be to experience war firsthand.

That book repeatedly crossed my mind as I read A Long Walk to Water, a book told in two timelines that eventually converge. The setting is Sudan and when it begins, we are reading alternating accounts, from an 11-year-old girl in 2008 and an 11-year-old boy in 1985. The boy becomes one of the Lost Boys, and the reason I kept reflecting on my student-teaching experience was because I could see this connecting with middle school students. It's not a long book and the chapters are short enough to be easily digested. Add in that the boy's account is a true story, and you have some great interdisciplinary possibilities for a classroom.

Book Log: February 2016

My youngest sister has been doing an annual post of books completed, and I always enjoy looking through it. I do keep a log of my finished books, so I thought cataloging my completed books at the close of every month would be a good way to dust off this blog and encourage me to jot down a few lines -- or a few paragraphs -- with my impressions (a compiled list will appear at the close of the year). I don't like spoilers, so while I put some initial thoughts after each title, when possible I'm purposely vague regarding plot specifics so as not to dissuade any of you from reading them.

The included Amazon links are affiliate links; many of these titles I check out from the library or already own, but should you be inclined to purchase one, these links only mean Amazon will give me a small percentage of the cost, at no additional expense to you.

6) 2/4: The Big Short: Inside the Doomsday Machine by Michael Lewis

My husband read this book a few years ago and recommended it, and now that we activated our Family Sharing Library, it was easy to get access to his Kindle copy and read it.

Wow. This is a detailed account of what led to the financial crisis and the recession that followed. I'm not sure I could accurately explain, without this book in hand, all the nuances (credit default swaps, subprime loans, toxic assets, the credit rating agencies, etc), but trust me that it's a fascinating read and Michael Lewis is thorough. There were a small number of individuals who foresaw the way the markets were going and made out like bandits. Lewis tells the stories of how they figured out what thousands of others missed (in one case, Asperger's helped).

I know hindsight and all that, but it's staggering to read this and learn how the wool was pulled over everyone's eyes; no one even considered the housing industry would lose value nationally at the same time, even though people were buying homes they couldn't afford without being asked to provide income documentation (there's an account of a migrant worker with an annual income of $14,000 given a loan for a house over $700,000).

7) 2/5: Crazy Love by Francis Chan (as well as the accompanying workbook, Living Crazy Love by Francis Chan)

These books were for a book study I did with a handful of friends.

First, a tangential story. In college, a mentor was sharing how he read a book that transformed his life. He bought numerous copies and gave them away to friends and family. A few months later, when he followed up, he was typically faced with two responses: either they hadn't gotten very far into it because it was a bit too academic, or they acknowledged it was a decent read, but not as earth-shattering as it had been for him. That's when he realized he just happened to be in a place where that book could reach him, but for others, it might have no lasting impression, and yet another book might speak to them.

So back to this book. It provided a lot of discussion in our group, which I especially valued, but I feel like I wasn't bowled over by anything I'd read in it - I've encountered similar ideas in other works over the years. I really enjoyed the accompanying videos, though - Chan's intensity and passion come through and they're engaging.

8) 2/6: Midnight in Austenland by Shannon Hale

I don't have much to say about this one - it was a brief read before bedtime after some headier stuff. I read the first one, and this embraces more of the Gothic novel, with a murder mystery.








9) 2/15: The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah

This book runs about 450 pages. Read on the heels of last month's The Goldfinch (which was nearly 800 pages), as well as some other longer books I am juggling, it appears this year may be the year of lengthy reads. It has over 19,000 reviews on Amazon, and it's at an impressive 4.8 stars. I didn't know those staggering stats when I picked it up (at a friend's recommendation), but I'll add my praise.

It is centered in France during WWII. We focus primarily on two sisters and how they survive the war years. I've read other war literature, but this one struck me with the specific details; the author doesn't try to rush past what daily life would feel like; it might not be new information, but you dwell on it more, so it makes more of an impact. With rationing in effect but goods in short supply, hunger was prevalent. Nazis forced citizens to house them, punishing defiance (whether confirmed or suspected), confiscating radios, crops, furniture, artwork.

It led me to pause and think how quickly everyone's lives changed. How devastating to be raising a child during that time while you are living in fear and compromising so as not to bring attention or harm onto yourself or your family, or working in secret for justice (how to explain to a child why the Jews were the ones singled out in the beginning, friends they lived and played alongside suddenly being taken away?). It's a worthy read.

10) 2/24: A Mystical Heart: 52 Weeks in the Presence of God by Edwina Gateley

This fall, I heard Edwina speak. I didn't know of her or her work before, but it was a moving time. She is passionate and shared how she, as a layperson, was convicted to live her life serving God. Her life story, full of social justice, is powerful. I selected this book for purchase that night (and others in the coming days).

This one is a selection of 52 reflections/poems with a challenge for each week and sometimes an accompanying sketch, but I devoured them much more quickly than that. I set it aside at one point after realizing how quickly it was going (I think unconsciously I didn't want the book to end).

Here is one from Week 10:

Often we anxiously seek the will of God,
as if God had gleefully hidden dreams for us
deep in unfathomable places.
As if it were God's intention
that our whole lives be spent
in endless searching for signs and directions
buried in obscurity.
The will of God is that which brings us
peace and fullness of life.
The will of God is the seed of our dreams
ever gestating with possibility
and longing to leap forward
scattering new and surprising blessings
in our gray reality.

Here is one of the free-form passages, from Week 41, made especially poignant as I read it when the Syrian refugees (and the warring opinions on them) were center stage in the media:

We build walls around our hearts, around our land, around our borders to keep out the strangers, the different, the other; to protect ourselves from getting hurt or from having to share our space with others. We guard our hearts, our land, and our country with great vigilance until the very guarding obsesses us and we become so outwardly focused and defensive that we lose touch with ourselves and our humanity. In our efforts to protect and defend we become disconnected and fragmented.

God, who will have nothing of walls and barriers, is like the Great Illegal Immigrant -- ever looking for cracks in our walls and defenses, seeking vulnerability so that She might slip through our barriers to convert and to transform us. God, in great longing for wholeness, constantly invites us to dismantle all that is exclusive. We cannot be whole until we come to embrace all that God has made and to share all that God has given. In matters and issues of exclusion we may be sure that God is always on the outside with those very people whom we do not accept. We diminish ourselves and we diminish God until we break down our walls. All of them.