Books of the Month: November 2008

Dear readers,

I bet you thought I forgot to update my blog. Right you are. Having only read five books in November, I have very little to report (*=library book). But here it goes:

The Toss of a Lemon by Padma Viswanathan
I want my historical fiction to feel historical. Did Brahmin men in early 20th century India really tell one another to "Butt out, man"? Really interesting concept--a look at social change in India through the life of one woman--but it read more like a rough draft than a final, polished novel.

The Senator's Wife by Sue Miller
Fairly interesting fiction about two marriages, with some fine Steinbeck and/or biblical allusions toward the end. I didn't think it was great as I was reading it, but I found myself thinking about it for a few days afterwards. Always a good sign.

Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt
A re-read. This was the only English-language book I took with me during my semester abroad. I remembered loving it. It is brilliant, but it felt less amazing to me on my second reading years later. The context in which I first read this really shaped my memory of it, and that ended up interesting me more than the book itself.

The Story of a Marriage* by Andrew Sean Greer
I cannot in good faith recommend this book to Sarah Palin. (Thank goodness she's stopped asking me for reader's advisory services.) Anyone who balks so openly at "gotcha journalism" must certainly loathe "gotcha fiction." Which is what this felt like. It was a kinda neat story, but the author went too far out of his way to invent surprises. Also there were black people and gay people in the book, too. Palin wouldn't have liked those either, I'm guessing.

The Hour I first Believed* by Wally Lamb
A mammoth work. I fully admit to loving Wally Lamb in college. His previous two novels amazed me when I read them, which probably says a lot more about me as a college-aged reader than it dos about Lamb's writing. So it was something of a guilty pleasure to pick up his latest decade-in-the-making massive tome. It was rich and emotional, easy to read and to get absorbed into. At first. Then it sprawled out of control. The only things missing? The kitchen sink and a heavy-handed editor. And yet, I couldn't stop reading.