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The Heart of Haiku by Jane Hirshfield

March 1, 2013 by

The Heart of Haiku by Jane Hirshfield, which I first read about it on Beth Kephart’s blog, is lyrical, meandering, and informative not only about Haiku — the art, its origination, and its longevity — but also about one of the greatest poets, Bashō, who lived and breathed Haiku.  Knowing very little about this Japanese poet from the 17th century doesn’t mean you don’t know him because as Hirshfield points out, he infuses every Haiku with his soul and experiences.  Not only can readers live his moments alongside him, but they also can create their own experiences within the Haiku.

“To read a haiku is to become its co-author, to place yourself inside its words until they reveal one of the proteus-shapes of your own life.  The resulting experience may well differ widely between readers:  haiku’s image-based language invites an almost limitless freedom of interpretation.”

Like many poets, verse comes naturally and is less like a job or profession than it is like breathing.  With elements of Zen and Shinto’s spiritual traditions, the poet led a contemplative life focused on not only the natural world, but his experiences with it and as part of it.  At many points in his life, he is affected by events beyond his control, but his poetry never fails to account for these moments or to push him through those hardships — even though it doesn’t seem as though Bashō considered them hardships.  Hirshfield says, “He wanted to renovate human vision by putting what he saw into a bare handful of mostly ordinary words, and he wanted to renovate language by what he asked it to see.”

“Zen is less the study of doctrine than a set of tools for discovering what can be known when the world is looked at with open eyes.  Poetry can be thought of in much the same way, and the recognition of impermanence, ceaseless alteration, and interdependence–the connection of each person, creature, event, and object with every other–need not be “Buddhist.”  These elements permeate the poetry of every tradition. . .”

What is most beautiful about Hirshfield’s examination of Bashō is the reverence she pays to him and her passion for not only his work, but also his dedication to improving it even when near death.  And like many others, he remained focused on pushing his students to strive for more than even he could achieve, urging them not to be the “other half of the split melon” by mirroring his own work.  Hirshfield not only provides history and poetry in this essay, but she also pinpoints the evolution of Haiku and discusses its beauty and its endurance through the ages, even as a teaching tool.

The Heart of Haiku by Jane Hirshfield is a stunning examination of one Japanese poet’s work and his love of life and poetry.  Her narration provides a unique way of stepping into the life and thoughts of Bashō as writer, poet, teacher, and human being.

About the Author:

Jane Hirshfield was born in New York City in 1953. After receiving her B.A. from Princeton University in their first graduating class to include women, she went on to study at the San Francisco Zen Center. Her books of poetry include Come, Thief (Alfred A. Knopf, 2011), After (HarperCollins, 2006); Given Sugar, Given Salt (2001), which was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award, The Lives of the Heart (1997), The October Palace (1994), Of Gravity & Angels (1988), and Alaya (1982).

This is my 11th book for the 2013 New Authors Challenge.

Filed Under: challenges, New Authors Challenge, nonfiction, poetry, purchased, Read in 2013, reviews Tagged With: ,

Red Army Red by Jehanne Dubrow

February 28, 2013 by

Red Army Red by Jehanne Dubrow is a collection that is broken down into three, clear sections — Cold War, Velvet Revolution, and Laissez-Faire — with a preface section — Red Army Red — and one poem, “Chernobyl Year.”  Dubrow’s narrator recalls the lives of American Diplomats in Communist-controlled Poland during the Cold War and pays homage to the Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia and the rebellion of youth before concluding in the commercialized freedom and excess of capitalism.  Her poems are all at once playful, somber, and achingly real.

From "Aubade": (page 9)

Often I lay awake to listen for
my parents returning from the embassy,
a key toothing the lock, the front door

opening to let them in, its rusty
hinges a metal warning.  Every
evening the same.  I drank the words cold war

from the water glass on my nightstand.

Her words echo even after the end of each line, and sometimes even in the middle of a line, leaving a haunting impression on the reader. In “Vinegar Aphrodisiac,” the narrator asks, “What’s sweet//without the wanting, the queue around the block/when even you are out of stock?” The lines for food in a communist society even when there is no more left, and the hope that there will be something there for them when they get to the front of the line. The wanting or the hope is palpable and heartbreaking. The poems in the first section eerily reflect the realities of the time, and there is a juxtaposition of the diplomat life with that of the Poles — “Each morning my mother’s velvet purse/wilted on a chair, empty of its midnight contents:/ruby lipstick, tiny lake of a pocket mirror./My father’s tie lay crumpled on the bed./The romance of objects–both their costumes/on hangers again, still clasping the scent/” (from “Fancy,” page 12)

There is unrest in the second section — the upheaval of adolescence marked by the rising up of workers and society against a communist society that fails to live up to expectation, a theme prominent in “Five-Year Plan.” A deep, unbidden want bursts forth in Dubrow’s lines as the communist Poles want release from their worker chains, so does the diplomat’s daughter want escape from the “crystal” world in which she lives just outside reality, yet feeling that reality keenly. Not entirely part of the communist world, but not completely outside of its empty promises. Always beneath the austere exterior in these poems, there is a burning passion waiting to explode onto the page, and while it may not happen in the same poem, explosions of light, sex, and want emerge of their own volition and when least expected.

Red Army Red by Jehanne Dubrow is a phenomenal collection that is bound to generate much discussion from book clubs, but it also speaks to the truths of ideals and realities and how they never meet expectations.  In many ways, the collection comments overall on the “grass is always greener” idiom, but it also highlights the separation felt by a young woman growing up in a foreign land and having the freedom her country provides, but at the same time feeling the constraints of her host nation.  Amazing use of imagery, politics, real events, and more.

About the Poet:

Jehanne Dubrow is the author of four poetry collections, including most recently Red Army Red and Stateside (Northwestern UP, 2012 and 2010). Her first book, The Hardship Post (2009), won the Three Candles Press Open Book Award, and her second collection From the Fever-World, won the Washington Writers’ Publishing House Poetry Competition (2009). Finishing Line Press published her chapbook, The Promised Bride, in 2007.

Her poetry, creative nonfiction, and book reviews have appeared in journals such as Southern Review, The New Republic, Poetry, Ploughshares, The Hudson Review, The New England Review, West Branch, Gulf Coast, Blackbird, Copper Nickel, Prairie Schooner, as well as on Poetry Daily and Verse Daily.

If you’re going to be in Boston for the AWP conference in March, you might catch Dubrow at a couple of panels.

This is my 5th book for the Dive Into Poetry Challenge 2013.

Filed Under: challenges, Dive Into Poetry Challenge 2013, poetry, purchased, Read in 2013, reviews Tagged With: ,

The House Girl by Tara Conklin

February 27, 2013 by

The House Girl by Tara Conklin is told mainly from two female points of view — Lina Sparrow and Josephine Bell — one is a white lawyer in New York City at a corporate law firm and the other is a slave/house girl in the southern Lynnhurst, Virginia.  Lina has lived with her artistic father most of her life as her artistic mother’s life was cut short.  Her story is compelling as she’s chosen the analytical and detached life of a lawyer over that of the emotional and less practical life of an artist.  Josephine, an equally if not more compelling story, is a slave on a tobacco farm caring for her dying mistress, who tries to sketch and paint in her upstairs studio.

“Mister hit Josephine with the palm of his hand across her left cheek and it was then she knew she would run.  She heard the whistle of the blow, felt the sting of skin against skin, her head spun and she was looking back over her right shoulder, down to the fields where the few men Mister had left were working the tobacco.”  (page 3 ARC)

Lina is a first-year associate at her law firm, and she works a mad number of hours as she tries to impress her boss and mentor, Dan, but at the same time, she seems to be beating her head against a wall.  There are some tenuous connections drawn between these two stories, the oppressive nature of working for a law firm and slavery, which may or may not be a fair comparison.  The narrative shifts from Josephine to Lina and between the past and present, and once Lina becomes involved with a slavery reparations case, she is wrapped up in innocuous research while all of her other cases are re-assigned.  She’s struggling with her role on the case, but also with the revelations about her mother and her father that have set her world askew.

“She couldn’t bear the thought of sharing.  This was where her mother had once slept, cooked, painted, breathed, and Lina’s memories of her seemed tethered to the physical space.  The way a wall curved away, a washboard of light thrown by the sun against the bare floor, the sharp clap of a kitchen drawer slamming shut — all these evoked flashes of her mother and early childhood that seemed cast in butter, soft and dreamy, lovely, rich.”  (page 21 ARC)

In the latter part of the novel, Lina comes across a biography of an abolitionist as she’s researching the life of Josephine Bell, but this section is overly long and could have been slimmed down a bit as Lina learns about the abolitionist’s connection to the Underground Railroad.  The strength of the novel is in Josephine’s story and her struggles with the Bell family, with her only release — the snatches of time she has to sketch and paint when her mistress is laid up in bed or asleep.  The mysterious life of Josephine is revealed in quick chapters, but early on these chapters are too focused on her desire to run and whether she should run.

In many ways, Lina’s story detracts from the whole, pulling readers into the present and into a case that seems more fantasy than reality.  However, Lina’s story with her father and mother — and the art world — is strong and could have been explored in a separate novel.  The artistic connection, more than the slavery reparations case, would have been a better angle for these stories, connecting the artists to one another through their craft and inspiration or something of that nature.

The House Girl by Tara Conklin showcases not only Conklin’s grasp of the Antebellum South, but also art and its craft.  The strongest parts of Lina’s story are those in her father’s art studio and in the galleries as the paintings are described and the ties between Josephine Bell and Lu Anne Bell are revealed.  Once the novel picks up speed, its tough to put down, and Conklin easily portrays the culture and atmosphere of the southern farm and the fear slaves felt daily.

About the Author:

Tara Conklin has worked as a litigator in the New York and London offices of a major corporate law firm but now devotes her time to writing fiction. She received a BA in history from Yale University, a JD from New York University School of Law, and a Master of Law and Diplomacy from the Fletcher School (Tufts University). Tara Conklin’s short fiction has appeared in the Bristol Prize Anthology and Pangea: An Anthology of Stories from Around the Globe. Born in St. Croix, she grew up in Massachusetts and now lives with her family in Seattle, Washington.  Check her out on Facebook and Twitter.  Also here’s a podcast about Conklin’s inspiration for the novel.  Photo credit Mary Grace Long.

tlc tour host

This is my 10th book for the 2013 New Authors Challenge.

Filed Under: challenges, fiction, Harper Collins, historical fiction, New Authors Challenge, Publishers/Publicists, Read in 2013, review copy, reviews, tlc book tours Tagged With: ,

Shadows by Ilsa Bick

February 26, 2013 by

Shadows by Ilsa J. Bick is a better book than the first in the series, Ashes (my review), (if you have not read the first book, beware of spoilers in this review) as the writing is more descriptive and less reliant on the cliffhanger factor for each chapter than it was in the first book.  An EMP blast has caused much of the human race to change, leaving the elderly to rethink their lives and focus on the best survival plan they have.  Meanwhile, the young are scared that they will change into flesh-eating monsters like so many others and struggle to keep away from bounty hunters and others who would use the Spared for their own nefarious gains.

Alex, Chris, and others are thrown into a whirlwind fight for their lives as they are separated and sent on their own journeys where they will uncover the truth and learn more about the Changed than they ever expected.  Unlike the first book where readers follow Alex’s point of view for most of the novel, Shadows is made up of more than just some of the main characters’ points of view from the first book, but several others.  At first this can be disconcerting given that the chapters move quickly are immersed in nearly constant action and are very short in some cases.  However, once the reader adjusts to the constant shifts in POV, they are swept up in the action and the chase — and in some cases, merely speeding through certain aspects of the 500+ page book to get to the story lines they really want to uncover.

“Oh God, help me, please, help me.  Alex felt her mind begin to slip, as if the world was ice and begun to tilt and she was going to slide right off and fall away into forever if she didn’t hang on tight.  Her heart was trying to blast right out of her chest.  She was shaking all over, the hay hook in its belt loop bouncing against her right thigh.  The pyramid, row after row of skills, loomed at her back:  all that remained of those who’d stumbled into this filling field before her.  And of course, there was the smell — that familiar reek of roadkill and boiled sewage.”  (page 21)

Minus a prologue in the beginning, the novel takes off right where Alex was left in the last book.  And readers who were looking for more horror and death than they got in the last book will get their just desserts here, with a little nasty sex thrown in for good measure.  It’s hard to believe this is a young adult novel, and readers should beware that this is a novel for older teens, rather than younger readers.  Bick’s writing is much improved over the last novel, and it helps to garner readers’ emotions and attachments to the characters of Alex and Tom.  However, there are still so many unanswered questions from the last book that are left unanswered.  Not only that, more questions and riddles are raised and left unanswered in this novel.  Bick is treading a fine line here, and unless the final novel in the series addresses a great number of these questions and mysteries, readers could be disappointed.

Shadows by Ilsa J. Bick is an adrenaline rush that pushes readers to not only think about the heat of combat and the survival skills they would need in a post-apocalyptic world, but also about the concept of trust and family.  When is our best efforts to save those we love and help them enough and when is it time to let go and move on?  Do you trust those who are nicest to you or do you still treat them with a degree of suspicion?  For Alex and Tom, there is never enough effort, and a healthy dose of suspicion is what keeps you alive.  The horrifying aspects of this novel are likely to turn off some readers, while attract others, but there are deeper themes at work here, and it is clear that Bick is attempting to tell a story that pays homage to those soldiers racked with guilt and still living daily nightmares of war.

About the Author:

Ilsa J. Bick is an award-winning, best-selling author of short stories, e-books and novels. She has written for several long-running science fiction series, most notably Star Trek, Battletech, and Mechwarrior:Dark Age. She’s taken both Grand and Second Prize in the Strange New Worlds anthology series (1999 and 2001, respectively), while her story, “The Quality of Wetness,” took Second Prize in the prestigious Writers of the Future contest in 2000. Her first Star Trek novel, Well of Souls, was a 2003 Barnes & Noble bestseller.

What the Eclectic Bookworms Thought (BEWARE of SPOILERS):

Shadows by Ilsa Bick was the book club selection for February.  With the multiple perspectives in this book, the members expressed a hard time following all of them and/or whether all of them were necessary.  While some preferred to keep the perspectives to a manageable number, another observation was that with Alex, the main protagonist, in a different area and experiencing things outside of Rule, it would have been difficult to keep the book from only her perspective.  The gore did not bother most members, which made the second book in the series read more like horror and less like science fiction or fantasy; some were taken aback by the sexual chapter, with the youngest member of the group not reading those sections at all.

The member who nominated Shadows was angry that the book left readers hanging about the fate of some characters, but it was pointed out that cliffhangers are often the case in second books when a third book is planned.  One member really enjoys Alex as a character, while two others pointed to Tom as their favorite.  Meanwhile, the group members all speculated about where the third book would go with most of us agreeing there would be a battle between Rule and the other Amish-like society mentioned, as well as a possible three-way dual between Chris, Wolf, and Tom or at least Chris and Tom in a sort of romantic gesture to win Alex’s affections.

The group seemed split on whether the overall reason would be explained for why some kids changed into cannibals and some did not.  We’ve speculated that the brain chemistry of the changed had been closer to normal levels than those that did not change, though Lena — one of the characters pointed out as most annoying — seems to have fallen in the camp of the changed with this book.  Overall, it seemed as though at least two members liked the second book in the series more than the first, while three or four members liked it even less with a couple people giving it one star.  Two members were not interested at all in reading the third installment, while two expressed an interest in one member reading it and telling the rest of us what happens, and a few others considering the option of reading the third book.

Filed Under: borrowed copy, fiction, Read in 2013, reviews, young adult fiction Tagged With: , , ,

A Thousand Mornings by Mary Oliver

February 21, 2013 by

A Thousand Mornings by Mary Oliver is meditative observance, but also a collection of poems full of praise not only of the natural order but of humanity’s place in that order.  In “And Bob Dylan Too,” she talks of how the shepherds sing as the sheep praise the grass by eating it and how the bees’ hum signals the opening of spring blossoms.  And in many ways, nature comes to life, becomes anthropomorphized in conversation with a narrator, allowing for the unspoken rules to be broken and/or expanded.  Oliver has a deep sense of connection to the natural world that shines through in each line of each poem, and yet, there is a bit of rebellion in her poems that points to a time when breaking free of the natural order is not only OK, but unexpected and inspiring.

From "Lines Written in the Days of Growing Darkness" (page 27):

to the petals on the ground
to stay,
knowing as we must,
how the vivacity of what was is married

to the vitality of what will be?
I don't say
it's easy, but
what else will do

What readers will love about Oliver’s poetry is the homage she pays to the natural world in all its beauty, but also the connect we have to it. In “The Moth, the Mountains, the Rivers,” the narrator of the poems asks that we each take the time to live in awe of the wonders around us, to truly sit without worry about the busy schedule and to just be and observe. It is almost a plea of sorts.  In other poems, the narrator simply marvels at nature and even decides to take her home to a mountaintop for silence and reflection and invites the reader along.  But one of the most descriptive and captivating poems in the collection was “Tides,” about the movement of the ocean and the only purpose it has: to be.  Unlike those who talk of its erosion of beaches and its awesome power, Oliver focuses in on its rhythmic movement, its constancy, and its beauty and in this way draws a parallel to how the narrator casually, calmly walks the beach.

A Thousand Mornings by Mary Oliver is reflective of the past, of youth, and of wilder days, but it also is about recapturing that youth, if only in the mind, remembrance, and observance of nature.  But there are moments of distinct action and conviction that the past can be recaptured even if it is at the end of life.  For those looking for Oliver’s traditional poetry, this collection is ripe with observation of the natural world, but it also offers a deeper look at aging and longing for things that have passed.

About the Poet:

Mary Oliver was in Maple Heights, Ohio.  As a teenager, she lived briefly in the home of Edna St. Vincent Millay, where she helped Millay’s family sort through the papers the poet left behind.  In the mid-1950s, Oliver attended both Ohio State University and Vassar College, though she did not receive a degree.

Her first collection of poems, No Voyage, and Other Poems, was published in 1963. Since then, she has published numerous books, including Thirst (Beacon Press, 2006); Why I Wake Early (2004); Owls and Other Fantasies : Poems and Essays (2003); Winter Hours: Prose, Prose Poems, and Poems (1999); West Wind (1997); White Pine (1994); New and Selected Poems (1992), which won the National Book award; House of Light (1990), which won the Christopher Award and the L. L. Winship/PEN New England Award; and American Primitive (1983), for which she won the Pulitzer Prize.

This is my 4th book for the Dive Into Poetry Challenge 2013.

Filed Under: challenges, Dive Into Poetry Challenge 2013, Penguin, poetry, Publishers/Publicists, purchased, Read in 2013, reviews Tagged With: ,

Garden of Stones by Sophie Littlefield

February 20, 2013 by

Garden of Stones by Sophie Littlefield vacillates between 1978 and 1941.  After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, which is when the United States began interning Japanese-Americans, Lucy Takeda and her mother, Miyako, are told to store their belongings, but end up selling them for pennies before they are shipped to the desert and the internment camp, Manzanar.  Lucy has felt the sting of bias in her Los Angeles high school, like when she was passed over for lunch monitor in favor of another girl and when the boys corner her at recess, but nothing prepares her for the hatred and oppression she experiences at the internment camp.  Her mother is a manic depressive, who barely got out of bed when their lives were simple, but in the camp, things change and her mother has to feign strength to protect her daughter.

“Aiko caught the hem of her coat and dragged her back.  The coat’s buttons popped off and went rolling down the sidewalk.  One went over the curb, through the grate, and disappeared into the blackness below the street.”  (Page 31 ARC)

Littlefield weaves in and out of 1941-43 and 1978 with ease and without relying on one character telling another about the past.  Rather, the stories run concurrently as Patty struggles to uncover her mother’s secrets and Lucy remembers her own past and her own mother’s secrets.  Readers are taken on a journey into the past and are emotionally tethered to Lucy and her struggles as a young Japanese-American in a less-than-forgiving society and who finds herself and her mother at the mercy of the men in power.  With two murder mysteries, Littlefield has her hands full, but her cast of characters are so human that readers will forget about the mysteries for a while as they come to know Lucy and her family, learn a bit about American history, and see how determination and perseverance can push someone to make unbelievable sacrifices and never regret them.

“In Manzanar, words took on new meanings.  Lucy learned to use the word doorway when what she was describing was the curtain that separated each family’s room from the hallway that ran the length of the drafty barrack building.  In short order they developed the habit of stamping on the floor to announce a visit, since there was no door to knock on, but they still called it knocking.”  (page 75 ARC)

Fourteen-year-old Lucy has a lot to learn about being a woman and what earning her way really means for a Japanese-American during WWII.  Garden of Stones by Sophie Littlefield is about lessons in love and family loyalty, but also about seeing the beauty in the darkness.  A surprising gem of a novel about a black time in American history when fear took over and spread to those Americans most vulnerable — forcing them to navigate an uncertain world and look over their shoulders at every turn, hoping to remain safe from harm.

About the Author:

Sophie’s first novel, A BAD DAY FOR SORRY (Thomas Dunne/St. Martin’s Minotaur, 2009) has been nominated for the Edgar, Macavity, Barry, and Crimespree awards, and won the Anthony Award and the RTBookReviews Reviewers Choice Award for Best First Mystery. Her novel AFTERTIME was a finalist for the Goodreads Choice Horror award.

 

This is my 9th book for the 2013 New Authors Challenge.

Filed Under: ARC, challenges, fiction, historical fiction, New Authors Challenge, Read in 2013, reviews Tagged With: , ,

The Kitchen Boy by Robert Alexander

February 15, 2013 by

The Kitchen Boy by Robert Alexander focuses on the last, secluded, and trapped days of the Romanov family before they are ultimately assassinated in 1918 as told by the kitchen boy, Leonka. Their lives were routine as royals with set times for dinners, etc., but in captivity, there days are even more regimented as they are expected to present themselves for inspection at certain hours, attend church services, and eat meals at certain times.  In fact, their lives are so routine, including that of the kitchen boy, the only highlights are wheeling the youngest, male heir about the home and imagining games until the Bolsheviks deign to open a window.

Shifting from the 1990s to the early 1900s, the narrator takes readers through the final days of the Tsar and his family and often interrupts his own story — being told on audio tape to his granddaughter, Katya — to interject the outcome of certain events or to provide other tangential historical information.  This disjointed narration often pulls readers out of the story, but once the narrator gets into the final three days of their captivity, the story moves rather quickly.  Moreover, the kitchen boy’s story is so complex that it takes a long time to unfold and by the end, readers will either have guessed the truth of the Romanov’s last days or they will feel betrayed by the narrator’s unreliability.

“My name is Mikhail Semyonov.  I live in Lake Forest village, Illinois state, the United States of America.  I am ninety-four years old.  I was born in Russia before the revolution.  I was born in Tula province and my name then was not Mikhail or even Misha, as I am known here in America.”  (page 3)

“His story, his truth, was what he would leave behind and it would be, he was certain, the definitive truth that would stand for decades if not centuries.”  (page 87)

However, the half-truths and subterfuge executed by the narrator do have a purpose and are understandable once the novel has completely unfolded, particularly given the tumultuous time period in Russian history.  Leonka is a young boy working in the kitchen of the Tsar’s prison, from which they are only allowed at most 1 hour outside in the courtyard’s fresh air as all the windows are permanently closed.  His duties are relegated to menial tasks of fetching water and preparing the day’s meals, but he’s also very observant.  Through carefully crafted context clues, readers will learn about the inner workings of the prison and the careful planning of not only the Romanovs but also the guards watching over them.

The Kitchen Boy by Robert Alexander is an intricate story of those last days of a family held by their enemies in which the more human side of the royals surfaces through the eyes of a young kitchen boy.  However, the greater mystery is by turns too well hidden, it is almost a trick of the author when it is revealed.  Alexander’s narration could have staved off disappointment with more from Katya’s portion of the story as she seeks to execute her grandfather’s will and wishes.  As an epilogue, it is too neatly wrapped up with very little build up.

About the Author:

Robert Alexander is the author of the bestselling novels Rasputin’s Daughter, The Kitchen Boy, and the forthcoming The Romanov Bride. He has spent over thirty years traveling to Russia, where he has studied and also worked for the U.S. government. He speaks frequently to book clubs, and the schedule for his live video webcasts can be found at his Website.

This is my 8th book for the 2013 New Authors Challenge.

Filed Under: challenges, fiction, historical fiction, New Authors Challenge, Penguin, Publishers/Publicists, purchased, Read in 2013, reviews Tagged With: ,

The Ambassador’s Daughter by Pam Jenoff

February 12, 2013 by

The Ambassador’s Daughter by Pam Jenoff set in 1919 Paris just after WWI, the war to end all wars.  Margot Rosenthal and her father straddle the line between German and Jew, and the atmosphere after the war has greatly changed how German and Jew alike are seen by the rest of Europe and even at home.  Jenoff carefully crafts a set of characters who are genuine in emotion and struggle, but also who remain a bit mysterious even to one another until the end of the novel.

Margot has lived her life in relative protection by her father after the death of her mother, but as she and her father experience Paris for the first time after the war, she must face the truth of events that once seemed so far away.  Her impending marriage to Stefan, a childhood boy from the neighborhood wounded during the war, and her father’s precarious role as a precursor to the German delegation to the peace conference that will decide the fate of Germany and so many others.

“We are the defeated, a vanquished people, and in the French capital we loved before the war, we are now regarded as the enemy.  In England, it had been bad enough — though Papa’s academic status prevented him from being interned like so many German men, we were outsiders, eyes suspiciously at the university.  I could not wear the war ribbon as the smug British girls did when their fiances were off fighting because mine was for the wrong side.”  (page 16 ARC)

Boredom pushes Margot to seek out things to occupy her time, and when she does, her life takes on a new direction and excitement.  Her new friend, Krysia Smok, introduces her to the artistic side of Paris outside the stuffy parties of academics and politicians that she’s accustomed to, and Margot relishes the freedom.  With this freedom, she finds that her life back in Oxford and even at home in Berlin was stifled and cloistered, with her father ensuring she learned enough to be free, without actually allowing her to free herself from the confines of societal expectations and gender roles.  Without a mother to guide her, Margot is beholden to the tight, protective bubble her father has crafted, until Krysia pricks it with a pin, enabling her to find her freedom.

“She begins to walk up the hill.  At the top of the ridge, the terrain that had appeared endless breaks suddenly.  The trenches.  The long tube of hollowed out earth, much deeper and wider than I’d imagined, a kind of subterranean city where the men had lived and died, rats in a maze.  The smell of peat and earth and human waste wafts upward.  About fifty meters to our right, the trench is bisected abruptly by a great crater, maybe ninety feet in diameter.  Like the spot where Stefan had nearly died, only so much worse in reality.”  (Page 174 ARC)

However, even though the war has changed certain expectations and enabled women to express their views and be more free, the realities of war always hover in the background, threatening this new perspective.  Jenoff infuses her novel with a great many layers from the characters who grow into new people to those who struggle to remain who they are even after the world has changed around them.  There are spies and espionage and there are plans to save Germany from the heavy hand of “justice,” but more importantly, there are everyday people struggling for their ideals and their hopes.

The Ambassador’s Daughter by Pam Jenoff is an emotional look at life after the war for both the victors and the enemy, but it also is a historical look at how German culture changed amidst the political machinations of various ideologies.  Margot is a strong young woman, but like many after the war struggles to find her true path as she’s pulled by the familiarity of the past and the adventure the future could hold.

***If you’re interested in The Ambassador’s Daughter, come back tomorrow for an interview and giveaway.***

About the Author:

Pam Jenoff was born in Maryland and raised outside Philadelphia. She attended George Washington University in Washington, D.C., and Cambridge University in England. Upon receiving her master’s in history from Cambridge, she accepted an appointment as Special Assistant to the Secretary of the Army. The position provided a unique opportunity to witness and participate in operations at the most senior levels of government, including helping the families of the Pan Am Flight 103 victims secure their memorial at Arlington National Cemetery, observing recovery efforts at the site of the Oklahoma City bombing and attending ceremonies to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of World War II at sites such as Bastogne and Corregidor.

Filed Under: ARC, fiction, historical fiction, Read in 2013, reviews Tagged With: , ,

Short Story Friday: The Witch Sisters by Alma Katsu

February 8, 2013 by

typewriter short story friday

In addition the occasional book news on Fridays, Savvy Verse & Wit would like to introduce Short Story Friday, on which I will highlight a recent short story I’ve read and enjoyed either on Kindle or in book form. Today’s is an e-short story by Alma Katsu.

The Witch Sisters by Alma Katsu is an e-short story spin-off from The Taker series that continues the Gothic feel of her previous novels.  Adair finds himself in England on a nervous steed as he gallops through fens wood, a forest of many superstitions and secrets.  He seems to be still be on his journey to acquire magical knowledge, but he’s also already begun collect his consorts.  In the darkest of evenings, Adair meets Penthy, a fair-haired young woman, who lures him back to her cottage that she shares with her more wily sister, Bronwyn.

Adair is intrigued by these women living alone together in the woods, but he also is aware of his own power and gives into his own vanity, remaining with them for several days as they dote on him.  Readers will find this story a departure from the character depicted in Katsu’s first book, The Taker, but Adair is similar to the man who evolves into in The Reckoning.

“The forest here was not like forests elsewhere. The salty soil had turned it into a nightmarish landscape. It made trees into stunted hunchbacks, gnarled and twisting in on themselves.” (page 1)

Penthy is the more pliable sister, but Katsu’s description of her resembles Lanore in terms of her attractiveness and damaged nature.  It is easy for readers of the series to see why Adair would be attracted to her, but she is less like Lanore in that she allows her sister to lead the way.  These sisters are resourceful medicine women, and they pride themselves on the good they do for the village women.  It is not until they look beyond the sexual object in their cottage do they realize the magic they have at the tip of their fingers.

Readers looking for more of The Taker and Katsu’s characters, The Witch Sisters is a great way to reduce the angst of waiting for the third and final book in the series, but the story could have been longer and included more magic.  Readers may want more spells, illusion, and displacement either on the part of Adair under the control of the sisters or from Adair as he decides how best to punish these women — in true Adair fashion.

AlmaKatsuAbout the Author:

Alma Katsu lives outside of Washington, DC with her husband, musician Bruce Katsu. Her debut, The Taker, a Gothic novel of suspense, has been compared to the early work of Anne Rice and Elizabeth Kostova’s The Historian.  The novel was named a Top Ten Debut Novel of 2011 by the American Library Association and has developed an international following.  The Reckoning, the second book in the trilogy, was published in June 2012.  The Taker Trilogy is published byGallery Books/Simon Schuster.

Filed Under: fiction, Read in 2013, review copy, reviews, short stories Tagged With: , , ,

News From Heaven by Jennifer Haigh

February 6, 2013 by

News From Heaven by Jennifer Haigh is a collection of interconnected short stories about Bakerton, Pa., and while the characters in these stories all have roots in that former coal-mining town, the town itself is a character — matter of fact, it is the character — that holds these stories together.  Haigh has created a heartbreaking and hopeful story about the death and rebirth of a town and its people.  As the founding members, the Bakers, brought glory and industry to the town that ensured its prosperity, they also have a hand in its decline.

From WWI to the 1970s and 1990s, Haigh chronicles the rise and fall of a town tied closely to its founding family and the coal beneath its hills.  By the end, readers will be as connected to Bakerton as they are to their own hometowns and families.  From the coal hacked out of the mines to the black lungs carried by its resident miners, there is a deep sense of place and the people who inhabit it are as flawed and as memorable as the school teachers, mechanics, small business owners, and others of memory.

“The town lay before them in a deep valley, settled there like sediment:  the main street with its one traffic light, the rows of company houses, narrow and square — some brick-cased now, or disguised with porches and aluminum siding, but at this distance you could see how alike they all were.”  (page 166, “The Bottom of Things”)

Beautifully, each story builds upon the foundation of the last from the high flying days of the coal boom and the nepotism it wrought in the town to the ultimate crashing down of the town around the ears of the residents who relied too heavily on the Bakers to carry them through.  There are glimpses of how war can build up a town, while at the same time tear down its people, and there are other moments where the destruction of war is keenly felt at home when a soldier returns.  Haigh’s collection runs the emotional gamut, but the most striking passage comes in the final story, “Desiderata,” referencing the prose poem by Max Ehrmann.  She infuses the final story with a deep sadness of grief and the devastation of a secret revealed, but returns to the hopeful tone of rebirth and beginning anew amidst this unwanted baggage and knowledge.

In many ways, this collection depicts a slice of American history, with particular attention paid to how immigrant groups interacted with one another and to each other even in a new country.  Even as war is far away, many of the prejudices bred abroad continued in their new homes, and these interactions continued to reflect in future generations.  News From Heaven by Jennifer Haigh has a blasé title, but given the final moments of the collection and the reference to the prose poem, it is reflective of Haigh’s focus on faith.

About the Author:

Jennifer Haigh is the author of the New York Times bestseller Baker Towers, winner of the 2006 PEN/L. L. Winship Award for outstanding book by a New England author; Mrs. Kimble, which won the PEN/Hemingway Award for debut fiction and was a finalist for the Book Sense Book of the Year; and The Condition.

Her fiction has appeared in Granta, Ploughshares, Good Housekeeping, and elsewhere. She lives in the Boston area.

Find out more about Jennifer at her Website and connect with her on Facebook.  Also check out her Book Club Girl discussion.

This is my 7th book for the 2013 New Authors Challenge.

Filed Under: challenges, fiction, Harper Collins, New Authors Challenge, Publishers/Publicists, Read in 2013, review copy, reviews, short stories, tlc book tours Tagged With: ,

The Zombie Chasers by John Kloepfer, illustrated by Steve Wolfhard

February 4, 2013 by

The Zombie Chasers by John Kloepfer, illustrated by Steve Wolfhard is a graphic novel of sorts for kids age 8-12.  Zombies are flooding the quiet Arizona neighborhood while parents are at the school with teachers and Zack is being duct-taped to a chair by his big sister, Zoe, and her girlfriends, Madison, and Ryan.  Locked in his room, Zack scrambles for a way out and water to wash off the clown makeup his sister put on his face.  As he sneaks out into the kitchen to get the last piece of his his birthday cake, he spies his crush, Madison, forking bites of the cake into her own mouth.  As they argue about the cake, the zombies make their way into the house, forcing the two unlikely companions up into Zack’s room where they formulate an escape.

The illustrations are black and white and accompanying the events in the text as Zack, Madison, and Zack’s best friend, Rice, hack their way through town.  Rice thinks of himself as a zombie expert, and like typical kids, there’s arguing about who’s an ugly faced dork, and who’s a snotty brat.  There are funny moments, gross moments, and scary moments as the kids try to escape the zombies and find a solution.

“In the midst of her tantrum, she’d neglected to notice the huge pair of tighty-whities hanging around her neck.  She ripped them off her head quickly and threw them at Zack.”  (Page 58)

“Both his lips were gone, leaving a jagged bloodstained gash where the bottom half of his face should have been.  His gums had shriveled, exposing the roots of his teeth.  It looked like he had just won first place in a cherry pie-eating contest.”  (Page 101)

Kloepfer creates a group of kids that reminds me of the group in Steven King’s IT, a group of misfits banding together to fight or fly away from evil.  Only in this graphic novel, the kids are more comical than serious.  While there are moments of bullying and peer pressure, there is more zombie fun, grossness, and scrambling from place to place.  While the illustrations are fun, they are not necessary, but it would be better if they were more vivid with color.  The Zombie Chasers by John Kloepfer, illustrated by Steve Wolfhard is a fun start to a series of books, but be warned there is a major cliffhanger.

About the Author:

John Kloepfer first started writing at five with a short story of only one sentence. Now, he has authored many full length novels in The Zombie Chasers series. John is currently an official Zombie Chaser living in New York City.

About the Illustrator:

Steve Wolfhard is a Canadian with a knack for illustrations. His drawings can be seen in the Zombie Chaser series. Steve is also the creator of Cat Rackham and the beloved new cartoon character, Turtie.

This is my 6th book for the 2013 New Authors Challenge.

Filed Under: challenges, graphic novel, Harper Collins, New Authors Challenge, Publishers/Publicists, Read in 2013, review copy, reviews

Leaves by Michael Baron

February 1, 2013 by

Leaves by Michael Baron has the makings of a family saga, with its large Gold family in Oldham, Ct.  Tyler, a budding nature photographer; Corrina, a controlling older sibling; Deborah, the resident foodie; Maxwell, who seems to have it all and leads the town’s Chamber of Commerce; and Maria, a young emptynester, must close a chapter in their lives and begin anew after deciding to sell the family business, the Sugar Maple Inn — a popular destination for “leaf-peepers.”  Baron alternates between characters throughout the novel, but the characters are dynamic enough and varied so they are easy to keep track of, even when the spouses and their individual family units are introduced.  Each of them is struggling with the close together loss of their parents, as well as the decision to sell the inn that is as much a part of the family as they are.  Each chapter signifies a day in their lives as they count down to the last Halloween bash they’ll ever throw for the residents of Oldham.

“The leaves were the reason that people came, whether it was for an overnight diversion or to settle for decades, rising generations of others who would remain nearby.”  (page 15)

Oldham is a place with many faces and facets from the ancestral families to the newcomers looking for a change or new adventure — particularly those that become small business owners.  Tyler and Maria were easy to connect with as their artistic sides have stagnated and need rejuvenation; Maxwell’s ambivalence about his place in town is easy to understand given the young age of his son and the adjustments he and his wife have made.  Meanwhile, Deborah is like many of us, comfortable in her current place and not quite ready to move on, and unsure of what direction to head in when change is inevitable.  Corrina is a tough nut to crack and hard to like with her domineering nature, but it’s easy to see why she wants to be in control — at least of her siblings and the last party at the inn — because her home life is not as picture perfect as it looks.

There are so many layers to Leaves, as the members navigate their new lives without the inn and their parents to anchor them, and the impact those changes have on their own relationships with one another.  Their moods and reactions change quickly, though the distance between them has been as gradual as the changing seasons.  However, while there are many depths to this novel, there also are moments where readers will want more, but the narrative suddenly changes to another sibling or situation.  Baron has established a foundation for a series of novels that are sure to come about the Gold family, and he’s crafted a family with strong bonds.  Even though each member is on the verge of breaking their family bonds for good, there are memories that creep in to pull them back to their roots and each other.  Baron’s novel is one that readers won’t want to end.  There is so much more in store for these characters and their relationships.

About the Author:

Michael Baron grew up in the New York area, has worked in retail and taught high school English.  Although he started writing nonfiction, he’s always loved fiction and love stories.  He has a deep passion for writing about relationships – family relationships, working relationships, friendships, and, of course, romantic relationships.  His wife and kids are the center of his life and his wife is the inspiration for all of his love stories.

Filed Under: ARC, fiction, Publishers/Publicists, Read in 2013, reviews, Story Plant Tagged With: ,