Lazy W Marie

Carpeing all the diems in semi-rural Oklahoma...xoxo

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Before I Go To Sleep (a book review)

   Our fabulous little book club’s current selection is set for discussion this coming Saturday night. I just polished off the last page tonight after dinner, and I am giddy. You know that feeling after you finish a book that has exhilarated you since page one? No dry spells, no slow, laborious climbs to action or understanding? Some books leave me exhausted; this book has left me inspired, though not in the spiritual sense.
Introducing
Before I Go to Sleep
by S.J. Watson
Before I Go to Sleep: A Novel


   Okay, I do not groove spoilers. I will try to keep this short and sweet. 
   I would recommend this book to a wide variety of audiences, with the simple caveat that it offers up some salty language, violence (though nothing we don’t see in a standard PG movie) and the full spectrum of marital relations. Ahem. 
   Would I approve of my two beautiful teenage daughters reading this? No. But I do think they are both intelligent and sensitive enough to appreciate the story behind the scenery. 
   The premise is that a woman, the speaker of the book, has lost her memory and must live day to day rebuilding it (at least enough to survive and maintain hope) from what she has managed to write in a private journal. As the title suggests, her memory is wiped clean every night when she sleeps. Just take that in for a second and imagine the awful implications, the far reaching consequences of losing both your long term and your short term memory every single night.
   Whew.
   How could a book like this be inspirational? I’ll tell you. I am freshly inspired to treasure my memories, both good and bad, and to be grateful to be an active, viable liver of my own life. Captain of my ship, if you will.
   Watson builds suspense better than Stephen King, in my opinion. He must be incredibly gifted to be able to write such a complex story from such a limited perspective, and using such a repetitive format without causing the reader to get bored? Wow. And the ending is delicious… 
   Okay, that’s it. Anything more and I’ll be flirting with spoilers. Have you read this yet? I would love to hear your thoughts! Haven’t read it but want to? If you’re interested I’ll lend it! My loaning policy is that each person must write his or her name and a quick review on one of the inside covers. Circulate as much as you want. 
Books are meant to be Read a Lot!
Cherish your Memories!
xoxoxoxo
   

The Help: a Book Review

   Yes indeed, this book is pretty much worth all the hype. It is also worth all the tears, guffaws, and warm fuzzies readers have been describing. Our world famous Oklahoma book club consumed The Help this past month, and at our recent discussion dinner we unanimously voted for its general brilliance. It offers a worthy array of poignant messages; it is concisely yet lightly written; and it leaves enough space between the interwoven stories to let the reader imagine some details and emotions on her own.

   In case you don’t know, The Help is about a group of both white and colored women in Mississippi in the 1960’s. Its stage is set just as the nation’s civil rights struggle was really heating up and right at its epicenter.  It follows events in the women’s private and connected lives, some mundane, others headline worthy, but all meaningful. The reader gets to see the inner workings of relationships between domestic help and their white employers, between mothers and children, and between the help and the children, as well as between different generations as the social climate begins to shift.  
   It’s all very touching and eye opening and, as our discussion dinner would prove, conversation worthy.  Author Kathryn Stockett proves herself skilled at evoking troubling thoughts without painting a picture too graphic for the average reader to endure. This is why I think The Help is probably appropriate for women of all ages. In fact, I might go so far as to say it’s important reading for women of all ages. After all, the 1960’s aren’t that far back in our cultural history, and seeing anything through a private lens, on a domestic level, can do wonders for driving home otherwise cold, impersonal facts.
This was the stand out line in the book for me.
And as it turns out, the author herself favors it too.
“You is Kind.  You is Smart.  You is Important.”
Some loving words spoken from a colored domestic 
to the white child for whom she cared.
   Since this book is so widely known and is currently so popular, I won’t waste a lot of time presuming to tell you everything about it. You really should consider spending a few days reading this yourself.  In the mean time, I’d like to share a few of the sharpest points that emerged from our book club discussion dinner and hopefully elicit some thoughtful responses.

  • Motherhood and domesticity: What would it have been like to share that territory with another woman? How does it compare to the modern practice of enlisting daycare to hold down a paying job?
  • How much does the instilling of hatred and bigotry into her family diminish the value of an otherwise loving mother? On the other hand, how much, if at all, does the  benign neglect of the issue of racism (or any other destructive tendency) excuse poor mothering?
  • What personal resources would have been needed for a woman in that era to shun an unhealthy romance in favor of her dreams? How does that compare to the present day? How important is it for  a married couple to agree on politics, etc?
  • Regarding ugly racist vernacular: How does it affect people, who can use it and be accepted, what are the implications? Are people okay with a double standard?
  • How much does the era in which one is raised underscore his or her values? How much are we as a society willing to tolerate racist undertones based on age group or geographic influence?
  • If we are in fact slowly rubbing out the worst stains of racism from our culture, then what is the next controversial territory? Where will we next seek to improve our collective attitude?
  • How far reaching can a child’s earliest moral education be?  
   At the end of the book, Stockett offers her own list of eleven discussion points for her novel. We intended to dive deeply into each one but only made it through three and a half of her questions before our conversation took on a life of its own, as is prone to happen with our lively bunch! Anyway, I think it’s a great jumping off place for a book club, a modern literature class, or even a Bible study group. These are all questions about social values, morality, the fabric of friendship and family, and personal determination to follow your heart despite the risk and despite the reward.
   As a little bonus, we learned from the two or three girls in our group who had also seen the movie that the screen adaptation follows the book closely. This is a nice surprise, because as all bibliophiles know, movies makers tend to take a lot of liberty with the printed word, and we are often disappointed.  Apparently not much is lost or distorted this time, so i am really looking forward to seeing it!

   Have you read The Help? 
Have you seen the movie?
 What are your thoughts?

The Imperfectionists (book review)

   This book had a lot going for it way before I cracked open the library’s laminated cover protector.   First, it was recommended to me by my lil’ sis Gen and her West coast Derby buddy Julia.  They are both fabulously smart and interesting women, steeped in good books and oozing good taste, so I do not take their banner flying lightly.  Second, I will read almost anything with title font this delicious.  Seriously, it can only mean good things.  And the cover art?  Yum.  Can’t you smell the paper and don’t you want to brew some coffee?

     
   First of all, the book is written in a slightly unusual format which, once deciphered, was completely enjoyable.  Rachman weaves the story pretty much by characterizing people over and over again, and quite well.  The reader is served insights into human nature and motivation, parental relationships, the strength of romantic passion (or lack thereof), and even the fallout of the loss of a child. 
   Even those personalities who make only brief appearances in the book are knowable and believable and left me craving more.  This was not a story told from any one perspective; it was instead told from all perspectives.  And it could have been deepened at any point by choosing a favorite character and indulging, roulette style.
   As an aside, anyone who is interested in any of the varied possible careers in print journalism might get a serious kick out of reading this book.  The author offers us juicy glimpses into the daily grind of reporting, editing, proofing, publishing, inheriting, owning, abandoning, and outliving a print newspaper.  Fascinating stuff this is, especially considering the time span chosen.  Rachman writes in one chapter from the 1950s, in another from 2007, them back to the 1970s, again in 2007, and so forth. 
   He has constructed a patchwork story, on one page describing with painful scrutiny the details of a character then leaping, without warning, past an anticipated scene change and boldly into fresh cold wordy waters.  So you know sort of what to expect, it’s the indirect and incomplete history of a daily newspaper in Rome over a span of three generations and opposite sides of the globe.
   If it sounds a bit wonky, let me assure you that it works.  By the end of the book I found myself thinking there was no other way to tell such a story.  Well done Tom Rachman.

********************

   On a philosophical note, isn’t that how we tend to interpret the world at large?  
Through the human experience, first of all, but also through a random and untimed series of encounters, 
a que of unorchestrated revelations?  Not one of us enjoys the clarity of authoritative narration 
in the background or theme music to illustrate the truth behind a life event.  
We just see things and do things and reflect on them.  

Even those among us with the most vivid ambition kind of amble around the globe 
in patterns or apart from them, eventually weaving ourselves into history, 
even if we never get to fully understand that history ourselves.  
Some people call these the “filters” through which we see the world.  
I find it perfectly accurate.
   How often do we ever know the whole story about someone’s life, even a loved one?
 How well could one person possibly understand the motives and passions of an ancestor 
who is two generations and a continent apart from us?  
Or of our companion in the next room?
********************
   Off of my soapbox now, back to the book re view. 
  I highly recommend these 269 pages but with the warning that it is less action packed and more introspective than a lot of popular fiction.  It even lacks social commentary, with the exception of touching on what the internet has done to print media.
Okay, best wishes.  Hope you like it too!

Stieg Larsson (book review)

   The posthumous if scandalous fame of this recently deceased author certainly contributes to his books’ appeal, but even without that added glamour, his two breakout novels (I have yet to read the third of this trilogy but fully intend to) are impressive.  They are not for children, though; nor are they for the easily offended; and they are not even for the squeamish.
   But at this stage of life I am grateful to no longer fall into any of those categories and so thoroughly enjoyed every single page.
    


   Except for the difficult to pronounce Swedish names and general vocab, difficult even in silent, inward monologue, these two thick volumes provided me lots of gratifying hours of voracious, adrenaline-pumping diversion.  And in contrast to our book club’s spiritual foray this summer, it was a guilty pleasure.  Not complaining, ladies, I just need a balanced diet.  We all do, eh?
   Lots of people, me included, have commented on how the first novel suffers the reader with a bit of a cold, slow start, but rest assured that Larsson more than makes up for it later and in book two.

 

   I fell head over heels for the off-putting and strangely upstanding heroine, Lisbeth Salander.   Part of me is determined to believe she is a real live person, lurking the world with her mad math skills, deficient social skills, and dark attitude.  Righting wrongs and amassing riches.  I am collaborating with a girlfriend to be Salander for Halloween this year.  Like Batman, only a girl.  And scary, but completely defensible.  Beware.

   Slanader’s male counterpart Mikael Blomkvist was also a gripping character, and N-O-T just because I happen to know that Daniel Craig is playing him in the American production.  Well, that didn’t hurt exactly.  Y-E-S- I mentally pictured Craig delivering some of the best lines and besting the bad guys, etc, etc, and Y-E-S there are love scenes written that can only be made better with a decent visual…
  These books are pure entertainment, trashy and heavy and politically seasoned just enough to make you feel like you’ve thought hard and smart for that day.  Oh, and if you have ever been accused of drinking too much coffee, just check out the Swedes.  They will relieve you of that guilt rapidly.

Exfoliate My Soul (book review of The Shack)

   Our most excellent little Oklahoma book club recently tackled a piece of fiction that served up a heckuva lot more than this girl bargained for.  At our previous dinner, we agreed on William P. Young’s The Shack.  Have you heard of it yet?  I had not heard of it prior to the night we discussed what to read next, but apparently the buzz is widespread and I live beneath a rock.  Typical.

It bears mentioning that although for book club I checked out my copy
 from the library and am painfully challenged by it, I plan to by a copy now. 
I need to have more time with it and possibly read it again in a year or so.
   Anyhoo, let’s chat about this.  I would not characterize it as Christian fiction exactly, although it certainly has a spiritual message and is unapologetically bent toward Christ.  It is also not all mystery, although there is a mystery that needs clearing up.  It was, however, absolutely written by someone who loves words.  For better or for worse, you decide.
   Overall this was a difficult read for me.  It was beefy and mentally profitable, so I do suggest that thinking people check it out, but it was an uphill belly crawl toward completion.  If you choose to read The Shack, please do so without the expectation of being fully entertained.  Crack it open in a quiet room.  Keep your Bible handy for referencing and maybe also a blank journal.  I suspect it will draw out of you a flood of thought and emotion that will need somewhere to crash land.  Plan on crying and possibly raging.
   Or maybe that’s just me?  It just wore me out from head to toe, scrubbing my head and my heart mercilessly.  Especially since I had been reading it alternately with a completely frivolous Stieg Larsson book, my hours with The Shack were EXHAUSTING by comparison.
   Without spoiling the story itself, here are some themes that come to the surface of this book:
  • Trusting God’s goodness when you don’t really trust Him anymore
  • Senseless tragedy and how people cope with it
  • Hating God (and repenting of that)
  • Reconciling genuine spirituality with indoctrinated religion
  • Relating personally to God
  • Abandoning judgemental tendencies
  • Forgiving those who have wronged you
  • Accepting your own forgiveness
  • Believing you are loved
  • When should grief expire?
   Our group that night was twice the size we normally have, partially because the book already had an audience that was happy to gather and share.  Once everyone was fed (we eat WELL, remember?) and comfy in the living room, we cautiously dipped our toes into a proper conversational review.
   I would say that over half of the group really liked The Shack.  Loved it, in fact.  The inspirational quality of the story was admittedly powerful and certainly enough to bond people together over a mutual love for God, among other beautiful sentiments.
   I feel a little bad being in this particular minority, and I am having trouble putting my finger on why I feel bad about it.  The book just scrubbed me so dang hard.  It HURT.  It challenged my unnatural hard heartedness, and it articulated religious issues I have been wanting to address for years.  It forced me to acknowledge how far I have drifted in my own grief, how attached I am to it, and how much I have allowed it to separate me from God.
  
 This is all very serious business, you guys,
and I really just wanted to read about dragon tattoos ‘n stuff.
      A few passages resonated for me in ways that I am able to enjoy apart from the tricky doctrine.  I had to resist whipping out my trusty highlighter since I was reading a borrowed volume.  Among them:
“…So to live as if you are are unloved is a limitation.
Living unloved is like clipping a bird’s wings
and removing its ability to fly.”

   I have to admit that despite all difficulty with heavy message, thick prose, etc, the singular result of my reading this was a renewed craving for my old prayer life.  If nothing else, Mr. Young convinced me to reconsider trading my calloused heart for calloused knees, and that cannot be all bad.
   So no, I do not flat out LOVE every book I read.  But even the tough reads can have a lot to offer.  And I sure don’t have all of my spiritual ducks in a row right now, evidenced by my extreme discomfort in having my soul exfoliated like that; but I do appreciate being led back through pain and then arriving at a completely believable sense of peace afterward.
   Overall, I am happy to have read The Shack and expect to read it again in the near future.  If you have some words of review, please share!
  
   Also, please read  this brilliant girl’s  review of the same book.  She is one of our newest book club members and drove many hours to the farm to be part of this weekend!  We mulled over the intricacies of the stuff for hours.  Enjoy.