Audiobook Review: Dearly Devoted Dexter by Jeff Lindsay

Remember when my awesome secret Santa sent me this but made me think I was getting a Nicholas Sparks book?

Best joke anyone has played on me in a while.

And its results were completely delightful because I got to spend 8 hours and 25 minutes of otherwise boring stop-and-go car time enjoying it. Jazz assured me that the plotline of the book was significantly different from that of the TV series (on Showtime…if you’re not watching it or at least renting the DVDs, you are missing out, baby) and that I wouldn’t get the two confused, and she was right.

Dearly Devoted Dexter is the second installment in Jeff Lindsay’s Dexter series, and it begins, of course, with the introduction of a mysterious serial killer whom Dexter wants to catch before his hardworking colleagues at the Miami P.D. (where he works as a blood spatter analyst) have a chance.

(For those unfamiliar: the basic premise of the Dexter series is that Dexter is a serial killer who only kills other killers, justifying his urge to kill with the knowledge that he removes dangerous predators from the streets and never takes an innocent life.)

In this case, the killer has connections to Dexter’s colleague Sergeant Doakes from back in his military days, and he seems to be systematically tracking down a group of individuals he feels have betrayed him very deeply. What he does to them, I won’t tell you….but yowza!  It’s a doozy.

This story reminded me that books can be much more gruesome than television because TV series, even on Showtime, are limited in what they can depict onscreen. But books?  Books know no limits….which is how I ended up squirming my way through several key scenes of this one and loving every minute of it.  Really, there’s no way I can imagine seeing on TV the images I had in my head as I listened to this. It takes a lot to shock me, but this just might do it.

(Now is probably a good time to mention that one must be a little bit twisted and have an appreciation for very dark humor in order to really “get” Dexter.)

I also really enjoyed getting a deeper look at Dexter’s understanding of his condition and his total lack of emotions. The show makes it clear that this is the case, but hearing him ponder it and strategically plan his every move in order to appear normal was very compelling and really appealed to my psychologist background.

Narrator Nick Landrum does a very nice job with the story and the many characters’ voices. I found his rendering of Sergeant Doakes particularly skillful and right in line with the character I know from Showtime. But there’s really no competing with Michael C. Hall’s perfectly dry delivery and fascinating portrayal of this complex character, and I found myself wishing he were narrating the audiobook. I’m used to hearing Dexter’s voice a certain way, and Landrum didn’t quite do it for me. This wouldn’t be a problem, though, if I weren’t familiar with the TV show, and it certainly won’t keep me from recommending Dearly Devoted Dexter to other audiobook fans in search of something different.

A Slip of the Tongue: Adventures in Bookselling v. 16 [guest post]

If you don’t know Melissa from Scuffed Slippers and Wormy Books (on Twitter as @balletbookworm), you really should. She writes great reviews and frequently shares stories from her life as a bookseller in Iowa (working for the same company I used to work for), and I’m thrilled to be welcoming her today for the first in a series of Adventures in Bookselling guest posts from my bookseller friends.

As a bookseller I’ve been privy to some rather odd requests.  Some require a bit of interpretation – a slip of the tongue or neuron and confusion (hilarity) ensues – while others make you wonder how the human race survives.  Observe:

Exhibit #1 – The “being-accosted-by-someone-questionably-sober” scenario

Male Undergrad: “Hey, I need The Odyssey.”

Me: “Sure – do you need a particular translation?”

Male Undergrad: “Yeah, the Faggy one.”

Me (keeping a straight face): “You mean ‘Fagles’, right?  It’s here on the shelf next to you.”

Male Undergrad’s Possibly Drunk/High Friend (who is looking at comic books): “See, I said we should be in this aisle and you didn’t believe me.” [cue uncontrollable giggling from both of them]

Exhibit #2 – The “character-as-author-of-their-own-book” scenario

Female Customer: “Excuse me, I need Anna Karenina’s book.”

Assistant Manager: “By Tolstoy, right?”

Female Customer: “No, she’s the author.”

Exhibit #3 – The “get-your-mind-out-of-the-gutter” scenario

Adult Customer: “Do you have The Chronicles of Narnia?”

Children’s Bookseller: “Yes, do you want the regular children’s edition or the one-volume adult edition?”

Adult Customer (whispering): “Is the adult edition….dirty?”

Exhibit #4 – The “book-and-movie-are-different-entities” scenario

Mom Customer: “I need to pick up this book for my son’s class.”

Me: “OK, what book are you looking for?”

Mom Customer: “Legion by Paul Bettany.”

Me (how do I explain this?): “………………….er, Paul Bettany is an actor in a movie called “Legion” – there are several graphic novels available either titled Legion or with “Legion” in the title.”

Mom Customer: “Oh……”

Me: “Would a graphic novel be something your son’s teacher have on the reading list?  What grade is your son in?  I could recommend something with a similar subject.”

Mom Customer: “No, I guess I’ll have to call him and check.” [she never came back with a different book or question so I’m not sure what she eventually purchased, if anything]

Exhibit #4.5 – the “cover-art-is-different-the-book-is-the-same” scenario

Dad Customer: “Do you have The Lovely Bones?”

Me: “Yes, right this way, its on our display with other books adapted into movies.”

Dad Customer: “But this is the movie version, I’ve already seen the movie.”

Me: “Oh, no, this is the original novel, the cover just has the art from the movie poster.”

Dad Customer: “Well, this is for my ten-year-old daughter – would this be appropriate?”

Me [almost dies because there is a graphically violent rape/murder scene in the first chapter and that would totally scare the poor kid]: “Um, if you’ve seen the movie then you know that Susie, the narrator, is violently raped and murdered; it happens in the first chapter.  Has she seen the movie?”

Dad Customer: “Yes.  Oh, so they didn’t add that part for the movie?” (gaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!)

Exhibit #5 – The “how-did-you-ever-pass-kindergarten” scenario

If you are a student ordering course texts, it helps to bring your syllabus (syllabi, as the case may be) to the bookstore so you don’t wind up looking like this guy (who is probably wasting his tuition money):

Male Undergrad: “Do you know what textbooks I need for my class?”

Me (totally not clairvoyant): “I’m sorry, no, but I can order them for you.  Do you have your syllabus?”

Male Undergrad: “No, because you guys are supposed to know what books I need.”

Me: “Well, the professors usually place textbook orders with the campus bookstore – which we are not.  Do you know your course number?”

Male Undergrad: “No, why?”

Me (hates all students right now): “Because I need your course number to look up your textbook on the campus bookstore website.”

Male Undergrad: “Oh….so you can order my books through school?”

Me: “No.  You can do that yourself.  I can order you a textbook to be sent directly from our warehouse to your dorm.” [Male Undergrad finally remembers the name of his class so I am able to look up the course number at the University website then look up the required texts on the campus bookstore site and then look up the textbook in our computer]

Me: “I can order your textbook, it’s [insert price around $100, which is actually pretty cheap for a brand-new, 900-page textbook] and we can ship it to you for free.”

Male Undergrad: “What!!?!?!?!  That’s too expensive.  I’m not going to buy that.” [and he stomps off; jerk, I just spend 20 minutes looking that up]

Exhibit #6 – The “I-can’t-believe-I-just-heard-that-lemme-collect-my-jaw-from-the-floor” scenario

(right after J.D. Salinger’s death)

Says one ditzy teenage girl to another: “So this Saliva guy who wrote a book about baseball died this week…everyone’s talking about it.  I have no idea who that is.” [must….restrain….fist….of….death]

Thanks again, Melissa!

The Sunday Salon 2.7.10: The Super Bowl of Book Nerdery

So there’s this big game on TV today here in the U.S. today. You might have heard of it. I think it involves football and a much-contested catchphrase (Who Dat?), but it’s hard to tell. I mean, they’ve only been talking about it FOR THE LAST TWO WEEKS!  And they’re still going. Really.  Hubby is watching ESPN, and they’ve resorted to doing the thing where the grown men cavort about on a miniature football field trying to imagine how the game will play out.

Grown men cavorting. It’s just unseemly.

It’s also the reason why I now know who inspires Drew Brees and that Peyton Manning has an incredible memory. It’s too bad he doesn’t play for the Patriots so the Bostonians could discuss their wicked smaht quarterback. (No offense to Tom Brady. The man does know how to wear a suit.)

I couldn’t really care less about the Super Bowl. The commercials aren’t that great, I’m not looking forward to the Tim-Tebow-declares-his-reasons-for-being-pro-life bit from Focus on the Family (aren’t they somehow opposed to football? Don’t they think running around in spandex pants encourage homosexuality or something?), and the half-time shows have been duller than dull ever since Janet Jackson’s nipple “accidentally” popped out.

So it should come as no surprise that I’ll spend the evening reading. And eating pigs-in-a-blanket. I do appreciate the Super Bowl for giving me an excuse to eat ridiculously tasty and fattening food.

Wanna know what I am excited about? Four straight days of book nerdery in May. I’m talking about Book Expo America and the Book Blogger Convention, people.

By now, you’ve probably read all about BEA and the gloriousness that will be three days (May 25-27th) of geeking out over authors, meeting other bloggers, mingling with our publishing industry friends (and making new ones), and learning a lot about where books are going. This will be my first BEA, and I cannot wait.

I’m also thrilled to be participating in and helping plan the first Book Blogger Convention on May 28th.  The Book Blogger Convention is now officially affiliated with BEA, and it’s going to be an amazing time. I’ll be moderating the panel on writing and building content, for which we have some fantastic bloggers for you to hear from, and, of course, I’ll be sharing a few of my own secrets as well, like how and why I blog about pillow talk with my husband.

If you’re planning to attend BEA, I hope you’ll hang around the day after and join us for the Book Blogger Convention, and even if you’re not going to BEA, please consider heading to New York on May 28th for the convention. I’d love to meet you….and you never know, I might actually decide to dress up like umlauts.  Follow the blog tour to get BEA tips from veteran attendees, and register for the Book Blogger Convention by February 14th to save $25 on the fee.

Hope to see you in New York in May!

Now back to those pigs-in-a-blanket.

Pillow Talk with The Book Lady and Bob

Just in case you weren’t sure about the level of nerdery happening at Chez Book Lady, I give you last night’s bedtime conversation, complete with the revelation of my husband’s far-from-original BIG DREAM. Clearly, the man is delusional and confused about several things. Also, we were watching Family Guy as this went down, and I can’t remember exactly how the conversation got started, but I think it’s fair to blame it on Seth MacFarlane….and my husband’s dark and twisty brain.

Me: What if I finally make good on that dream of yours and hook up with a girl at BEA and you’re not there to see it?

Bob: Yeah. Riiiiiight. What, is it like a 70s key party? You all drop your reading glasses in a bowl and draw out a pair to see who your partner will be?

Me: Not that kind of convention, babe.

Bob: So will people be dressed like wizards? How many people are going to have on Harry Potter costumes?

Me: Also not that kind of convention. BEA is a professional event.

Bob: Sure. So if not characters, do you dress as punctuation?

Me: If that’s the case, I call umlauts!  I’ll get one of those headbands with antennae that have big balls on the end of each one. And it’s just so fun to say. Umlauts. Umlauts. Uuuuuuuumlauts.

Bob: Does Italics compete with Bold in the costume contest?

Me: What about Underline? Poor Underline doesn’t get any love these days. Quotation Marks usurped his power.

Bob: A person dressed like Underline just looks like Dash. And that’s just confusing because everybody knows that Underline likes to get down, but Dash is a mean little motherf#@ker.

Me: And Bold?

Bob: I think you know. (insert knowing look that means we both understand that Bold is a fatty.)

Me: (through giggles) Dude, you are cracking my shit up right now…..and how exactly does one dress up to be Italics?

Bob: You just sort of lean a little.

Me: So if you go as Backspace do you just walk backwards all day?

Bob: Oh, honey. So innocent. Everyone knows Backspace takes it in the butt….but anyway, is the head of a publishing house more like the Head Warlock of the Wizengamot or Gandalf?

Me: NOT THAT KIND OF CONVENTION!

[Note to my BEA roomies: I plan to keep my panties firmly in place....unless, of course, I need to throw them at a deserving author :) ]

Thinking Globally, Acting Locally: Book Blogger Style

So, that #fountainreads thing I’ve been talking about?  I want to talk about some more.

Why?

Because Style Weekly (“Richmond’s alternative for news, arts, culture, and opinions”) is talking about it in a piece featuring Fountain Bookstore and me! And I’m excited about it. (Something about seeing blog-related news actually in print makes it all somehow feel more real…)

If you love books—and especially if you’re a blogger or bookseller—then I think you have reason to be excited too because it’s an example of the kind of partnership that can exist between bloggers and booksellers, the kind of partnership I hope to see more of.

Independent bookstores are, by nature, local. Awesome independent bookstores, like Fountain Bookstore here in Richmond, put a great deal of thought and effort into providing excellent customer service, planning exciting events and author appearances, and cultivating lasting relationships with members of the community. Indies live or die by their ability to build a local audience.

This blogging thing, on the other hand? It is made world-wide by the nature of the web. Sure, bloggers can affect their audience demographics with niche-specific content and targeted marketing, but anyone anywhere in the world can find a blog and make a connection. Of course, with social networking sites like Twitter, local booksellers can reach out to wider audiences as well.

So what could make more sense than putting bloggers and booksellers together?

When Kelly Justice, owner of Fountain Bookstore, and I kicked off the #fountainreads twitter book discussion this past Monday, she got to expand Fountain’s audience by meeting some of my far-flung readers, and I got to meet local readers. Participants got to discuss a book with people they would probably otherwise never meet. It’s the perfect storm.

So in that part in the Style Weekly piece where I talk about broadening the conversation because “Fountain is local…but I’ve got followers all over the world,” that’s what I was talking about: bloggers and booksellers partnering to share books with new audiences and promote their common interest in keeping the love of reading alive and well.

(Ain’t it amazing what can get lost in ellipses…)

If you’re at The Book Lady’s Blog today because of the Style Weekly piece, welcome! I hope you’ll look around and stay a while, and I look forward to meeting you through conversation in the comments and on Twitter.

And if you’re a blogger or bookseller (or a blogging bookseller—that’s my favorite combination!), I encourage you to reach out and seek new ways to use your platform, whatever it may be, to connect with other readers and move the conversation forward. If you’re already doing something like this, I want to hear about it. Let’s start a dialogue about innovative ways to work together to keep books alive regardless of how their formats may change—make no mistake: books are changing, but that doesn’t mean we have to let ourselves be left behind.

Finally, I owe a huge thanks to Kelly Justice for inviting me to be a part of the #fountainreads initiative and for partnering on an exciting project-in-the-works that I can’t wait to tell you about soon. This is just the beginning.

And if you’re looking for more information about the Twitter Book Club concept, originated by Bethanne Patrick (@thebookmaven) and Kassia Krozser (@booksquare) visit The Book Studio for details.

http://www.styleweekly.com/ME2/Audiences/dirmod.asp?sid=&nm=&type=Publishing&mod=Publications%3A%3AArticle&mid=8F3A7027421841978F18BE895F87F791&tier=4&id=281738880FA8451A8A46C78D08AC1E38&AudID=20938C672A3049EEB0CF33069AEE1AE0

January Reading Wrap-Up

One month into this year of reading deliberately, and I think I’m doing pretty well so far. Every book I read this month was a book I really wanted to read. Some were review copies, some were rescued from extended stays on the TBR pile, and all were well worth the time I invested.  I read seven books this month, and I’m quite happy with that, especially since two of my reads (The Little Stranger and The Swan Thieves) were chunksters.

Here’s my January 2010 reading. Covers link to my reviews.

And still awaiting review:

This is normally the part where I declare my favorites, but I’m having a hard time with it this month. Of these seven books, I enjoyed The Swan Thieves the least, but I still thought the writing was beautiful and the concept compelling. Guess I shouldn’t really complain about a month in which all of my reading was good.

What about you? What kind of start did your reading year have?  Any favorites I should know about?

Reminder: #fountainreads discussion of A RELIABLE WIFE tonight!

If you’ve read Robert Goolrick’s stunning novel A Reliable Wife (or if you just want to eavesdrop on a conversation about a great read), please join me and my favorite indie Fountain Bookstore to kick off the new online arm of their fantastic book clubs.

Beginning at 6pm EST tonight and running for about one hour, we’ll be chatting it up with the #fountainreads hashtag, and whether you’re a Richmonder who hangs out at Fountain in real life or a far-away fan of bookish gatherings, you’re welcome to join us. That’s the beauty of the worldwide aspect of the interweb!

#fountainreads will be moderated by Fountain Bookstore owner Kelly Justice (@RVAbookchik). Get more details about the book club and enter to win a personalized, signed copy of A Reliable Wife here.

And if you’re a blogger who has partnered with your local indie, or an indie who has partnered with a blogger, please drop me a line. I’d love to hear about what you’re doing.

The Sunday Salon 1.31.10: Snowpocalypse 2.0

I’m going to forgo the “oh my gawd, ya’ll, we’re already 1/12 through 2010″ chat for a few minutes here because, frankly, I need to be in denial about it. February? Already? Sheesh.

So, let’s talk about snow instead. Sometime between Friday night and Saturday morning, Richmond (and most of the rest of the eastern seaboard/mid-Atlantic region) got dumped on. And it is a beautiful thing. Except for the fact that, here in Richmond, people start preparing for snow about five days before its predicted arrival date. By Wednesday, my preferred grocery store was out of my top three coffee choices. By Friday morning, you couldn’t find chili ingredients to save your life….and by Friday afternoon (still 6-10 hours before the snow would start), well, toilet paper had become a hot commodity. Seriously, someone on Facebook actually asked me if I knew of a grocery store that still had TP and then half-joked that I could probably make a killing selling my extra rolls on Craigslist.  Oy.

So tell me something. Do people poop more when it snows, or do southerners really think that one good snowfall is going to keep them trapped in their homes for weeks on end?  I just don’t get it.

One good thing I learned this weekend, though, is that calories consumed during snowed-in weekends don’t count. In fact, according to my husband (whom I love more for this declaration), they are negative. Which is a good thing, considering that we had Ghirardelli double dark chocolate brownies for breakfast and lunch yesterday, Rice Krispie treats today, and are headed to Chipotle for our traditional end-of-a-snowy-weekend dinner.

Bring on the extra cheese and sour cream.

Anyway, aside from the snow, this has been a pretty normal weekend. There was couch snuggling (by which I mean snuggling on the couch, not actually snuggling the couch….though I’m not really opposed to that, either) and reading (finished Searching for Whitopia by Rich Benjamin and am thoroughly enjoying Dear American Airlines by Jonathan Miles), and we watched Inglourious Basterds this afternoon. Hubby’s in a bit of withdrawal from the lack of football on TV, and the hound has spent the day bounding through the snow, and there’s really nothing else worth writing home about.

Highlights of the Week:

Coming this week will be a wrap-up of my January reading, reviews of Searching for Whitopia and Dear American Airlines, some fun chat about the Book Blogger Convention, and who knows what else. I’m flying by the seat of my pants here, people.

What did you do this weekend? Were you snowed in, too?

A young historian reflects on Howard Zinn and A PEOPLE’S HISTORY

I’ve known Paul McQuiston since my family moved to Kansas City in 1991 and began attending the same church his family attended. We were in second grade then, and by the time we were in sixth grade, I had a huge crush on him, and as far as I’m aware, this is the first he’s hearing of it. (Or he’s about to tell me he knew all along and was kind enough to pretend he didn’t…but it’s okay, I know 11-15 weren’t my best years.) I can confess to this now because I’m married and Paul has a beautiful girlfriend (I know this thanks to Facebook), and these things are funny this many years later. Right?  Bueller?

Anyway, Paul and I lost touch in middle school, around the time it stopped being cool to attend youth group functions, and we just reconnected on Facebook within the last year or so. Gotta love that social networking.  I’ve been thinking a lot about Howard Zinn’s death and the amazing legacy he’s left us, but I couldn’t quite find the way to write about it. Then I saw Paul say this on his blog: This man changed the way I thought about history. If I have a career in this field, it will be because of him.”

And a guest post was born.

Paul is currently pursuing a Master of Arts degree in European History, and I’m thrilled to be sharing this young historian’s reflections on a man who changed the way we all think about history.

Howard Zinn died this week.

Ambitious and stubborn, the man’s influence on what popular history could represent continues to be felt everyday through works from authors such as Mark Kurlansky ( Salt, Cod, etc.). Zinn’s most popular work, A People’s History of the United States, sold millions of copies, went through dozens of reprints and adaptations into other media as varied as graphic novels and movies.

But this isn’t about his works as an author. It is what his work represents for both the historical community and to society at large.

Zinn belonged to the historical school that came out of the Second World War that turned their attention away from the great, imposing, untouchable figures which loom so large in the popular history of the United States and the world. These historians, many of whom were first-generation college attendees and came from the working class, instead focused on the people from which they came. Students coming from the working class, made up of the children of immigrants and minorities, did not care to learn about the Great Men they learned about in primary school. They wanted to learn about those who shared their background and with whom they could relate.

Zinn, the son of Jewish immigrants who moved to Brooklyn, believed that those people oppressed throughout history deserved their own time in the spotlight. Beginning with the landing of Columbus in the fifteenth century, leading up to the modern day, Zinn showed how the policies of first the European colonialists and latterly the American government discriminated against, and sometimes completely wiped out the native people of North America. Published in 1980, People’s History presented the first popular, general history of the injustices of the American empire. For many people, the book opened their eyes that what they learned in school represented half the story of America’s greatness.

I am of two minds in regards to Zinn. As a reader, his writing style comes across fluidly without flair. That is to say that he lets his facts carry the story, something most scholarly historians fail to achieve. Given the subject material, this is the easiest, yet most appropriate method. His words are enjoyable to read, even if the disheartening facts he related were not.

I am not looking at Zinn’s work as only a reader, however. I am in the midst of postgraduate work in history and my master’s thesis. One of the earliest ideas taught to myself and my fellow graduate students was to identify whether an author was making a valid argument and what bias their argument belied. This was done by examining the sources used and the language used.

With Zinn his bias is so obvious, so blatant that is difficult to take People’s History as a serious work of scholarship, even if the source material is accurate. In the past few days I have read many who complained that he focused too much on the negative aspects, ignoring the positive contributions to society that the European and American policy makers made. This argument is hardly new and other scholars have defended Zinn’s approach with the logic that objective argumentation favored those in power more than the oppressed in scholarly discourse.

It’s the idea of what Zinn’s work represented, however, and not the work and its scholarly strengths and weaknesses that inspired me. After reading some of Zinn’s work, my beliefs on history and its telling changed dramatically. Zinn caused me to change my own scholarly focus. Even if I am drawn more to academic (read: dry/boring) history than its popular (and very necessary) counterpart, the idea that that history can give voice to those unheard before that Zinn helped bring to light remains powerful.

Zinn remained outspoken throughout the rest of his life, crying out against what he deemed injustices by those people who held power. My relationship as a reader with Zinn remains complicated. As a figure and an idea, he will remain inspirational. As a (hopeful) scholarly historian, his contribution and methods will continue to be murky to me. As a member of the vanguard which widened the scope of historical study, his impact continues to be felt and will continue to do so in the future. With (and perhaps because of) the imperfect nature of Zinn’s impact on me, his loss caused me deep sadness. But I know that whatever future course my own career takes, Zinn’s work and ideas will continue to inspire me to give voice to the previously silent.

Thanks to Paul McQuiston, historian extraordinaire to be, for sharing these thoughts. Please make him feel welcome with your own comments and reflections (and help me make up for potentially embarrassing him with my adolescent confession!), visit him on his newly minted Tumblr blog for all things literary, or say hi to him on Twitter.


When Reading Trumps Blogging (mini-reviewish book discussions)

January is almost over, and I’ve just started to feel as though I’ve recovered from the holidays. The process of getting here has left me with that special mid-winter variety of brain drain that makes me want to read a lot and do very little else.  And now, with snowpocalypse 2.0 on the horizon, there is a very real chance that I’ll spend the next several days curled up with a book. Nothing to complain about there, but the growing pile of books to be reviewed makes me antsy. So here’s what I’ve been reading lately.

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

I read this for the LOST Books Challenge, and I have to say it was very interesting to revisit a story that I seem to have learned by heart without ever having read it. And the whole thing begins with Alice declaring that she is bored and uninterested in the book she’s been given to read because “What is the use of a book…without pictures or conversations?”

You know the story, too. Alice falls down the rabbit hole, finds a bottle marked “drink me,” and proceeds to grow and shrink and almost drown in a pool of her own tears, then she unlocks a little door and walks right into Wonderland. There’s the mad hatter whose clock is stuck at tea time and the caterpillar who makes her recite poems that she can’t seem to get right and the cheshire cat with his riddles and the queen whose response to just about everything is “Off with her head!”

Since I’m addicted to introductory material, notes, and bookish extras, the best part of revisiting this story was learning more about Lewis Carroll (whose real name was Charles Lutwidge Dodgson) and the deeper themes of this work inspired by his relationship with ten-year-old Alice Liddell and her sisters. Though the introduction to this Barnes & Noble classics edition describes Dodgson’s relationship with the girls as “by all accounts innocent and kindly,” it also notes that Dodgson was barred from the Liddell household before Alice’s story was even completed. Definitely makes you wonder if something dodgy were going on.

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is an allegory for growing up and a snapshot of the nineteenth-century tendency to “disregard disorder and chaos as problems to be tucked away in regressive moments of dreaming and remembering,” and I enjoyed the opportunity to read this story for what lies beneath its surface.  And the LOST tie-in felt obvious: just as Alice stumbles through Wonderland trying to impose order on chaos and make sense of her encounters with nonsensical characters, so the survivors of Oceanic flight 815 struggle to do the same on their mysterious island. See Lostpedia for more of the direct literary tie-ins.

The Wordy Shipmates by Sarah Vowell

Blame it on Nathaniel Hawthorne and that fantastic Jonathan Edwards sermon “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” but I just can’t help loving the Puritans. That’s right. Loving them. I am fascinated by these people who were so convinced they were God’s chosen that they left their families and communities for what can only be described as a harrowing journey across the Atlantic to a new world of unknowns. Sure, they also believed this destiny entitled them to kill the natives, take the land, and impose their religious beliefs, but doesn’t that make them interesting?

This was my first time reading Sarah Vowell, and it was pretty much love from page one. Focusing on John Cotton, John Winthrop (author of the famous exhortation to be “as a city upon a hill”), and the social, political, and religious motivations of the people who founded America, Vowell brings to light the petty arguments, deeply felt convictions, complex relationships, and community values that, whether we acknowledge it or not, continue to form the basis of our society today. And yes, Vowell has her own political agenda here, occasionally pointing out that the things that make the Puritans sound crazy are not so different from the things that motivate members of other exremist religious groups to attack and criticize America today.

The post-9/11 context gives The Wordy Shipmates added depth, and Vowell presents her research and her just-subtle-enough jabs with a snappy pace and a hefty portion of snark. But the book is really all about the story behind the story, the seldom told history of the people who came after the Mayflower, and the complexities of their inner lives and their relationships with each other. The blurb on the back of The Wordy Shipmates calls Vowell’s Puritans “highly literatate, deeply principled, and surprisingly feisty,” and that sums it up nicely.  The story is so interesting, in fact, that I didn’t even notice it is written as one long piece—no chapter divisions here—with just the occasional paragraph break.

Where the God of Love Hangs Out by Amy Bloom

I finished this book a week ago, and I’ve been trying to find a way to write about it ever since. My first experience with Amy Bloom has left me flummoxed and rendered me inarticulate. The stories in this collection are crafted so beautifully and packed with such emotional power that I am just in awe. But I’m going to try to talk about them because how else will I convince you to READ THIS BOOK NOW!

Where the God of Loves Hangs Out is comprised of twelve short stories, but it’s really more like two novellas plus four stand-alone stories. The first four stories of the collection present William and Clare, best friends who are married to other people but embark on a romantic relationship that will define the final chapter of their lives. Bloom alternates between Clare’s narrative voice in the first story “Your Borders, Your Rivers, Your Tiny Villages” and close third-person for the remaining three and paints a remarkably full picture of these two people and their families and the larger narrative of their lives at four distinct moments.

This section is followed by two stand-alone stories that I remember enjoying but that I didn’t find nearly as compelling as the William and Clare pieces. Then comes a four-story block about Julia and Lionel, a middle-aged woman and her stepson, who sleep together the day after Lionel’s father’s funeral and spend the rest of their lives trying to make amends for the mistake and repair their relationship. Bloom shows deft narrative skill in writing stories from Julia’s perspective, Lionel’s perspective, and close third-person, and I could not turn away from Julia and Lionel’s struggle to navigate the complex and long-lasting effects of one moment of confusing, desperate sadness.

What have you been reading lately?

Hey, FTC: I received a copy of Where the God of Love Hangs Out from LibraryThing Early Reviewers