Gilead

I grew up attending church. We went to a Presbyterian Church in Wichita, or, when in Oklahoma City, went to the church my grandparents and parents went to. As a kid, I almost always went to Sunday School-- an hour of songs, crafts, snacks and a Bible story. On occassions I'd have to go to the "adult" service and it would seriously try my patience. In my mind, the sermon was always 45 minutes, with the remaining 15 minutes song singing, prayer and offering collection. This was all followed by donuts in the fellowship hall. It was a time to try to avoid fidgeting and maybe a time to try to understand the sermon, which didn't seem to have anything to do the Bible stories and miracles we learned about in Sunday School. By the time I got to high school, I didn't really have to go to church any longer, so I didn't.

Twenty some odd years later I've decided to give church another try. I wanted a spirit of community, a calmness and a reason to wake up on Sunday mornings. Most suprising is that the sermons are maybe just 15 minutes and are also totally understandable now!

This is all a long way of saying that reading Gilead by Marilynne Robinson was a little like attending a church service as a kid-- kind of tedious and sleep inducing, but poetic-- and a little like attending a church service as an adult-- thought provoking, relaxing and at times even entertaining.

Robinson composes the novel as a letter from Pastor Ames, a man in his 70s, to his young son. It's a loving and detailed journal and at times, it was all I could do to remember that Robinson is in fact a novelist and Ames is a fictional character. The letter/journal is part observation-- detailing what his son is wearing (a favorite red shirt), part philosophical and religious musing and part family history-- from finding and visiting a grandfather's grave in Kansas, to admitting his jealousy and confusion over his best friend's family, with special focus on young Boughton.

I started this book months ago and had a lot of trouble getting into it. I'd read some, then start another book...so I was continually reading it but while I had other books going. It wasn't until about half way through the book that a plot/storyline took hold. There's no doubt that Robinson is an amazing writer. Housekeeping remains one of my all time favorite books. But I can't in good faith recommend this book fully. It was worth the effort in the end, and I'm glad I read it, but it was a tough journey. Thus I'm giving it 3/5 netflix stars.

In The Skin of a Lion

I chose to check out Michael Ondaatje's book, In The Skin of a Lion for two reasons. First, I had just recently rewatched The English Patient and was reminded what a fantastic story teller Ondaatje is. The second reason was a recommendation from an NPR series, "You Must Read This." Kamila Shamsie recommends it so thoroughly that she almost doesn't recommend it, for fear of anyone not loving it as much as she does.

In The Skin of a Lion is a dreamy story of Patrick, the son of a Canadian logger, his life, loves and friends. The narrative skirts between fiction and magical realism; a nun falling off a bridge is miraculously saved, but has a chance to change her identity and become an actress. Caravaggio (the thief from The English Patient) escapes jail by being painted blue. Patrick helps build a waterworks, and then subsequently swims through the plumbing with the aim of destroying it with dynamite. The lives of all the characters intersect and then pass. Like yarn on a loom, they are separate, but complete a whole.

I read most of this book on a rainy bus home from New York and was transported. I thought about books that I have loved and implored friends "they must read": The Living, by Annie Dillard, To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee, Women in Love, by D.H. Lawrence. I think it would be safe to add this book to that list as well.

Netflix rating, 5/5.

Flower Children

A few weeks ago, in a post dentist high, I bought a bagfull of books at the Booksmith. It's been a dreary spring and early summer and I was craving some beach reading, even if it's too rainy to go to the beach. The cover of Flower Children, by Maxine Swann, showed a 70s era photo of kids romping in a field of flowers. A small volume, it looked promising, and in fact, it was light and if not completely engaging, at least harmless.

The "children" in questions are the offspring of a pair of hippies, living in a ramshackle old country home. The book is comprised of related short stories taking place over the children's lives. The children go on ski and road trips with their father, divorced from their mother, and generally make life difficult for his girlfriends. They go to their grandma's and swim in the pool while the adults have cocktails. They ride ponies with the neighborhood boys and have their first kisses.

But this book lacked the magic the glowing cover seemed to offer. There was no hook and the characters lacked depth. In all, though, it wasn't terrible. If you were to find it on the bookshelf of your beach house on a rainy afternoon, it would suffice.

3/5 netflix stars.