Enough About Love

Enough About Love by Herve le Tellier is just longer than a novella; a few character sketches. Set in contemporay France, it tells the story of two couples, upper middle class, doctors, writers, a lawyer, with children. The women each meet someone else and either leave, or contemplate leaving their families. Le Tellier composes the chapters from individual and couple standpoints and is non-judgemental, in the way only the French can be when it comes to affairs. A book like this can easily been read as a film and I kept imagining Juliette Binoche as the lawyer.

This was a subtle, yet easy read, but for me, ultimately, unremarkable. I'd be suprised if I remember it in a year. 3/5 netflix stars.

The Elegance of the Hedgehog

Recommended to me, and with a very long wait at the library, The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery seemed like a sure fire hit for me.  It's also French!  But it just never really took off.  The main protagonists, a French concierge in a fancy apartment complex and the 12 year old daughter of a pair of inhabitants, are both philosophical and literary snobs. The concierge, Madame Michel, pretends to hold up the stereotype of the concierge-- lazy, uneducated and with little interest beyond her tv.  Paloma is a smart girl, but hides from her family, who she thinks are ridiculous.  It was hard for me to figure out why both these characters were playing so miserable and it wasn't until late in the book the reader is clued in.

Part of my issues with this might have been the poor translation.  The basic sentence structure was at times awkward, and there names and places that just didn't translate at all to the American audience.  I'm a patient reader and it takes a lot for me to not give a book a full chance, but if I had to do it again, I probably wouldn't finish it.  But I did and it partly redeemed itself, so I'm giving it 2 stars.  Read at your own risk.

A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes From My Kitchen

"She makes cookies with Leslie Fretwell!"

"I think her prom date was Billy Bozalis, Lisa's little brother."

Above, just a few of the excited emails between my mother and me regarding Molly Wizenberg's delightful book, A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes From My Kitchen Table.

Of the four cities I've lived in, Molly writes about the two which we overlap-- Oklahoma City and Seattle. And being a third generation Oklahoman, I eagerly picked apart the clues to places and faces she referenced. She writes about running through the yards at the Oklahoma Art Museum's summer jazz concerts (which caused me to call my mom squealing, since I did that too!) and her references to school prompted me to contact my Oklahoma friends, and sure enough, she attended the same school as me! (Although she must have been at least a year behind me).

She also writes about never feeling quite comfortable in Oklahoma and packing her bags at 18, nary a plan to move back. Sounded familiar.

I had my doubts before starting this book. Sometimes bloggers are good at blogging but not so good at writing (and vice versa). It's two different mediums. And sometimes memoris devolve into rants. Would Molly's witty posts about food translate to a book format? Indeed, yes. The book was a narrative and memoir of sorts, detailing her life leading up to her father's death, and her life since. She moved and started blogging just after, so Burg's death was a key point in her life in many ways. Each chapter is a short story about her life and then includes an accessible recipe-- perhaps macaroons or cookies her mom makes, or perhaps the chocolate cake she serves at her wedding. She includes recipes like Chana Masala introduced to her by her now husband, Brandon and salads shared with friends.

Her stories are bittersweet, honest, funny. A rare combination. If, like me, you don't actually know Molly, but feel like you do or feel like you want to, there's a recipe for that: read, relax, enjoy.

5/5 netflix stars (I'm either really loving or really hating books these days).

Rag and Bone: A Journey Among The World's Holy Dead

A little over a year ago, my sister Liz took me to the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. It's off the beaten track of the other monuments in DC and there's nothing much else out there. But we were curious and we like churches. The Basilica was immense and sparkling and to two non-Catholics, daunting. We opted for the tour. Our guide explained statues and histories of saints and took us into special alcoves and soon we all lined up to view the relic. Maybe it was a bone fragment; I can't recall. But we all moved in a circle to get a glimpse.

Peter Manseau tells similar stories of viewing relics the world over in Rag and Bone: A Journey Among the World's Holy Dead. His interest is that of a layperson, like myself. He's not someone who has a strong religious attachment to the relics he visits themselves, but is curious about how the affect so many people, and on some level, are common to all the world's religions. He visits India, Israel, Pakistan, Syria and interacts with Jews, Catholics and Muslims. He describes a brief history of each of the relics he visits-- most are dubiously authentic but have at any rate suffered indignities and brutalities post mortem that sometimes exceed the violence experienced by the living person. And he usually speaks with the caretakers of the relics and/or shrines. He meets a nun whose personal life was marked by so many violent accidents that she felt compelled to turn to religion and the saint whose remains her convent now hosts. He met a family who for generations had been guarding a holy tooth in Kashmir, but who had lost their legacy through politics; Inidian guards now hold the keys. He met a scientist whose life work it has been to verify (or not) the remains of Saint Joan of Arc. He claims he is not spiritual, yet he reveres her bones with a fervor usually reserved for the most pious.

Mr. Manseau comes to realize that the relics are more than just a spritual connection-- in Sri Lanka they provide jobs-- helping the economy informally (tours) and formally (the requisite gift shop), in France, local pride unites a community and in Syria, children get to practice their English with tourists.

Mr. Manseau journeys the world with curiousity and respect. For him, it's a strictly personal exploration as much as an means to discovering the history of relics. His message is subtle-- living people and living history is more important than the dead.

For myself, the Basillica was beautiful, but maybe too beautiful. It was hard to for me to reconcile the ostentatious gilt with the suffering experienced by the saints featured. I appreciated Mr. Manseau's journey.

Netflix rating: 4/5 stars

Within A Budding Grove

Good morning 16th Arrondissementers! Gossip Girl here with all the latest. Marcel and his grandmother arrived in style for a summer seaside holiday in Balbec. But what about his romance with Gilberte? Looks like it's as dead as last summer's pantaloon fad.

Too bad Marcel is so frequently sick in his room; he's missing out on grand opportunities to see and be seen on the front, especially in regards to a band of rich and pretty girls. But oh, someone spied him visiting the great painter Elstir in his studio. And we know Elstir is friendly with Albertine, Andree, Rosamunde and the others.

Meanwhile that cad Bloch continues his social climb despite being of lower class than both Marcel and none other than Robert de St. Loup. He slyly stabs each in the back, insinuating the other. Best be careful, B, otherwise you'll be out of favor at Rivebelle.

So, by the end of the summer, who will Marcel pick-- the modest and thoughtful Andree? Or the frivolous yet pretty Albertine? Best read Within A Budding Grove by Marcel Proust to find out...I'll never tell.

xoxo,

Gossip Girl

An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination and Observatory Mansions

Warning! The following is written during the holiday season; it's so sickly sweet you should probably make a dentist appointment first.

Nearly seven years ago a small group of us started a book club. We realized that now out of school, we might like to read for fun, but we also realized that just because we all lived near each other didn't mean we'd still see each other all the time, so book club became a once a month way to make sure we caught up. Over the years some friends have joined us and some friends have left us, but there's still a few from that first year. We take turns picking books and I think we each have a certain style.
Mihee tends to pick books that cause us all grief-- they're usually obscure classics or biographies of scientists, while Steph waits to pick a book by a certain author she's been excited about for a long time.
An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination by Elizabeth McCracken was Dali's pick last month. It wasn't a happy book: it's a memoir about the loss of a child. But it was the most honest book I've read in a long time. Elizabeth is an author married to another author: Edward Carey. While reading An Exact Replica, I kept meaning to look up Edward Carey, but it wasn't until Tishka visited a few weekends ago and we were talking about a book we often joke about, Observatory Mansions. And that's when we realized it was Edward Carey's first novel. We were ecstatic! Years ago, Observatory Mansions was one of Steph's picks for book club. It's about an oddball cast of characters who live in a rundown apartment building called Observatory Mansions. I don't remember a lot of details about the book, but the protaganist, Francis Orme, wears white gloves every day and impersonates statues in public. Anna Tap is the (anti)heroine. While I was reading Observatory Mansions, I thought it was one of the worst books I'd ever read. But I think back to it quite often (as I do another hated book, American Pastoral by Phillip Roth).
When I realized both authors were married and had the shared experience Ms. McCracken writes about, I could see how their mutual creativity and quirkiness attracted and protected the other. I could mostly tell they were lucky to have found each other.
Neither of these books is for everyone, but they both told a story that will stay with me for a long time...kind of like my book club friends.
Netflix stars-- 5 for An Exact Replica and 3 for Observatory Mansions.

Trail of Crumbs: Hunger, Love and the Search for Home

I picked up this book after seeing an ad for it in the New Yorker; a memoir about a young woman's life in France and her love of food...having just finished My Life In France I was still hungry.  Trail of Crumbs by Kim Sunee delivered on the romantic just as Julia Child's book did.  But it was filled with bittersweet and sometimes downright depressing imagery as well.  The end of most chapters contained at least one recipe corresponding to the remembered time and place just described.
Ms. Sunee was adopted by a New Orleans couple after being abandoned on the streets of South Korea with just a handful of crumbs for three days.  Like other books I've read about an adopted child, Ms. Sunee is never quite happy, and doesn't fit in.  She and her sister are the only Asian children in school and she always feels uncomfortable around her parents.  She does find solace with her grandparents, especially her grandfather, from whom she learns the secrets of Louisiana cooking.  As soon as she's old enough to leave home, she does.  She spends a semester abroad in France as her first travel alone.  She wants to become a poet, a writer and learns French.  She is soon able to translate for work.
At a young age she meets men more advanced in years and experience, but being seemingly fearless, Ms. Sunee follows them, looking for her own history.  At 23 she falls in love with a wealthy, nearing 40 year old French businessman with an adolescent daughter.  Ms. Sunee is soon "adopted" into this family with various roles: lover, step mother, social hostess, home keeper and cook.  She only feels truly comfortable cooking and provides the reader for recipes such as spring pea salads and La Daube Provencale, wild peaches poached in Lillet Blanc and Figs roasted in Red Wine.  Some of her recipes are memories of a past both real (Monday red beans and rice, Crawfish bisque) and imagined (quick fix kimchi).
As the years pass she feels more and more unsettled, especially as her partner Olivier establishes a life for her more and more.  She ultimately has to make decisions that women twice her age have a hard time making, and her naivete and inexperience push through her strong facade.  While I respected her for her bravery, I was conscious of her seeming lack of appreciation for a life she had, whether she truly wanted it or not (probably an inherent trait in a young 20 something).
I liked this book, but I was hopeful for more sophisticated self reflection, a la Eat, Pray, Love.  Still, it was an enjoyable read, one that took the gloom out of a bleak Boston Sunday.  4/5 netflix stars.

My Life in France

Continuing on with the French theme...My Life in France by Julia Child with Alex Prud'homme  was my pick for book club.  I was first re-introduced to Julia Child through the popular blog the Julie/Julia Project, where a "serventless American cook" attempts to recreate all the recipes in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  I then read Julie Powell's book based on the blog (so meta!) and netflixed some of Julia's old "French Chef" shows.  I was smitten! 

Julia Child is admirable in so many ways.  When I worry that I am getting older and have nothing to show for it and relatively little direction, I remember Julia.  She married in her mid-30s and only started cooking when her marriage took them to France.  In an era when women were not encouraged to work and were encouraged to raise a family, Julia broke the mold.  Julia threw her passion into learning, cooking, teaching, traveling and living life to its fullest.  I didn't intentionally pick a love story for February's book club, but it became evident that Julia loved Paul more than anything.  They had overlapping interests and supported each other in everything.  Julia did have conflicts-- as with anyone who collaborates with a friend, disagreements ensued.  But despite her frustrations, the friendship remained of prime importance.  And she flaunted her political beliefs, causing a familial rift with her father, but she stuck to her guns and beliefs.
I think my admiration and lovefest for Julia and this book is pretty clear.  I was even inspired to make French Bread!  This book gets an easy 5/5 netflix stars.

Swann's Way and Chocolate and Zucchini

Over four years ago I bought an old hardback of Proust's Swann's Way , the first volume of his Remembrance of Things Past. I thought it would be one of those epics like War and Peace or Ulysses that I could be proud to say I'd read. I'd read it curled on the sofa on a winter afternoon, with tea and cookies by my side. However I let it langour and collect dust on my shelf and finally made a New Year's Resolution to read it. Since that resolution was in 2004, I did my best to get it read before the New Year 2008. Most of the reading was in the SeaTac Airport, and subsequent flight from Seattle to Boston. I conspicuously made my pretentious reading known to my row mates, especially when the pilot kept updating us with the score to the Pats game (only in Boston, only in Boston...).

Besides being known for his lengthy descriptions, Proust is probably best known for his love of madeleines, the small French cookie. Fortunately I didn't have to delve in and wait until volume 3 or something-- the description took place before page 60 in the 600 page book! And because no one wants to read me describing his descriptions, I will instead describe my own attempt to make a delightful madeleine.
The recipe I used (after special ordering a madeleine pan from Amazon.com) was from Clotilde Dusoulier's Chocolate and Zucchini cookbook, based on her delightful blog. I like to think of Ms. Dusoulier as Proust's culinary heir to Paris; her recipes are classic yet updated and all have a story to tell, as she has her own cast of characters, much like narrator Marcel, and his friends and neighbors, in Swann's Way. The recipe I used was for savory Wanut, Pear and Rocquefort Madeleines. It was quick and easy, but since I chowed down on an appetizer of cheese and crackers, followed by an entree of baked mac n cheese, I wasn't so hungry when they came out of the oven. But the cats were! I had one and confirmed that once I am not so stuffed (in a few hours hence), they will taste wonderful.

In all earnestness, Swann's Way really was enjoyable and easy to read. I was surprised by Proust's humor: M. Swann suffers the same paranoia and lovesickness that anyone in a relationship endures. He humiliates himself by spying on his beloved and causing himself to fall out of favor with his preferred society. His characters have their personalities and ticks and his descriptions of places and events are evocative. I found myself laughing at the different characters' predicaments (which no doubt would be trivial had any of them had work or real jobs which to attend). Although Swann's Way is not plot driven and can take some time to read, it is worth it. I'm already looking forward to reading the remaining six volumes! I give both Swann's Way and Chocolate and Zucchini 5 Netflix Stars.