Great House

The History of Love by Nicole Krauss was not my favorite so I was pleasantly surprised by how moving her third novel, Great House, was.  In Great House, a large desk is the centerpiece both of the houses it occupies and the lives it touches. As an adult, I haven't had any furniture I care about-- I could get rid of it all and wouldn't miss it. But this desk represented a nostalgia for all who posessed it: nostalgia for a pre-Holocaust home in Budpest, nostalgia for a poet disappeared under Pinochet, the hope of another book written at it. Krauss weaves together disparate lives in different parts of the world, giving the book a kind of mystery as I kept reading to see how they would all connect together.

As in The History of Love, Krauss uses a bit of dialogue tic (which is what I disliked) but it is minor and I think her overall writing is improved. I look forward to her next books.

5 out of 5 netflix stars

The Lonely Polygamist

The absolute worst job I ever had was the summer after my sophomore year of college, the summer I turned 21.  I lived with my family in suburban Seattle, and made minimum wage working in the school age "classroom" of a daycare.  There were more than 20 kids who ranged in age from 7-12 and the other provider who worked with me had just as much experience working with kids as I did, which is to say, none.  Not only did we have no curriculum, but these were the worst behaved kids I had ever interacted with.  Their moods ranged from ennui to rage and of course the best ones never got our attention.  It takes a lot for me to lose my temper with kids, but they tried me and more than once I had to leave the room and cry in the kitchen.  And for two days that summer I lost my voice completely, although I had no other physical signs that would lead to that; I simply could not talk, scream, reason, beg anymore.

Russell was one of the worst kids.  Although it amazes me that by age 8 a kid can be branded as "bad", Russell was just that.  He would yell, destroy the classroom and fight with other kids.  Only once did my heart warm to him; he was looking for a lunch box he'd brought and was frantic.  I asked him what was in it that was so important and he looked at me with tearful eyes and replied, "treats!"  It reminded me that he was just a kid and really did have simple desires.
The Lonely Polygamist by Brady Udall is the story of Golden, his four wives and two dozen children and the landscape of Nevada.  Rusty is one of the children, a 12 year old who is branded a terror by his own family.  Of course he terrorizes his brothers and sisters for attention and wishes for nothing more than a hug from his mom-- his own version of a lunchbox filled with treats.  He meets and befriends June, a loner who makes firecrackers and is building a bomb shelter.  June recognizes Rusty as a younger version of himself and as such, realizes there's really no place for him in this offshoot of the Mormon church.  The reader recognizes that those who do fit in are those fled from previous lives with even fewer options.
Mr. Udall crafts this story (and reading it, you realize he is a master storyteller) through the eyes of Golden, who is pulled in so many directions he just cannot make any decisions, Rusty, who is doomed from conception and Trish, the 4th wife whose grief over a stillborn baby never lets her integrate with the other wives.  I was amazed I could empathize with a man with 4 wives and dozens of children, or a plural wife or a 12 year old boy.  But they were all just looking for connections, which ironically couldn't be found.  I hadn't thought about Russell in years, but realize that he must be around 18 now.  I wonder if he turned out okay.  I kind of doubt it.
I have to look through what I've read this year, but I think this the best book of the year.  5/5 netflix stars.

Mennonite in a Little Black Dress

Think you have nothing in common with Mennonites? Think again.  Did you ever bring weird lunch to school? Did you ever wear ill fitting/out of style clothes? Were you ever forbidden (even if it was for the best) to participate in a school play? Has your mom ever tried to fix you up with your cousin? Despite all that, do you still love your parents? Rhoda Janzen's memoir, Mennonite in a Little Black Dress was like Eat, Pray, Love, but the food is borscht, the praying happens in her family's Mennonite community in California and the love...is her family.

After her heart is broken by her husband leaving her for a man he found on gay.com and her body crushed the same week in a car accident, Ms. Janzen returns home to recuperate and write.  She weaves hilarious and poignant stories from her childhood alongside stories of her more recent past (now over 15 year marriage) and her parents' past.  She reminisces with her sister and finds herself at odds with her brothers. But despite having broken with the traditional ways of the Mennonite, she holds no bitterness.  We're allowed to laugh not at her family, but with them, and that makes all the difference.

This memoir gets 5/5 netflix stars in part because I'm easy with the stars but mostly because it was a wonderful read and made me want to shove it in the hands of several friends right away.

A Gate at the Stairs

The past seven or eight years have brought a host of post-9/11 novels. Some are good, some are bad. I like that most maintain the delicate balance of public tragedy and a new world order with people who still need to live their lives. A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore seems to almost privatize the public and publicize the private.  So I've been processing it the past couple days and am still not sure what I think.
Tassie is the protagonist; a good, Midwestern girl entering her sophomore year of college as 9/11 takes place.  She takes it in stride, instead worrying about what any 20 year old would worry about-- finding a job and finding a boyfriend.  She takes a job as a nanny for a bourgeois yet very liberal older couple who are adopting.  Sarah and Edward bring Tassie along to meet various birth mothers and finally end up with a mixed race 2-year old.  From here the story takes off: Sarah becomes a mouthpiece for every liberal stereotype-- she worries about Emmie facing racism and so forms a support group of like minded (sometimes) parents.  But as Tassie brings Emmie everywhere, she bears the brunt of public reaction-- is she the young mom?  The baby daddy must be black (bringing positive and negative reaction).  She absorbs it and meanders between her Sufism class and her boyfriend's (of dubious heritage and ethnicity himself) house, all the while forgetting that her younger brother is threatening to join the army after graduating high school.
A Gate at the Stairs is dialogue rich and Tassie's carte blanche viewpoint makes us realize our culpability with so many pre and post-9/11 social issues.  It's a compelling read and a great way to get back into novels after reading so much non-fiction.  It raises questions without providing answers. 
This is a vague review...readers and comments welcome!
Netflix stars: 4/5

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

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.