Let the Great World Spin

I certainly agree that it is "the most wonderful time of the year," but it also tends to be the busiest.  Lately, updating my blog has not been high on my priorities list, but I always find myself missing it when I've let too much time go by.  The most recent push that is bringing me to write this post is Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann.  I first read it about a year ago per the suggestion of a good friend, and I just urged one of my other friends to pick up a copy.

For me, one of the immediately remarkable things about this book is that it was written in 2009.  If you have been following my blog, you are probably aware that I am typically at least 60 years behind and often return to pieces from the 19th century.  However, as I have stated before, I do not think books are good only if they are old and labeled "Classics."  There are still great pieces of literature being produced today, though it can be more challenging to filter through them.  I have listed five other works in my Contemporary Series and am happy to now add McCann's book to my list.

Let the Great World Spin is in the form of a series of vignettes and could perhaps be defined as a short story cycle.  It is set in New York City in 1974, centered around one day in which Philippe Petit walked between the Twin Towers on a tightrope, thousands of feet in the air.  This part of the story is a true event, and the story has been documented on film (Man on Wire) and in writing.  However, this tightrope walker is not the protagonist of McCann's book but rather an interweaving theme that peripherally appears in the lives of a variety of New Yorkers on that day.  His daring walk across the high-risers of NYC is symbolic of the emotional precipice so many of us balance in our daily lives.  But the difference with Petit, and what makes him extraordinary to all the observers in the story, is that he leaps and dances his way across.

These characters represent the melting pot of New York City, ranging from prostitutes in South Bronx to housewives on Park Avenue, and everything in between.  Their stories paint a colorful picture of the range of struggles, achievements, heartaches, and motions that can take place on one day in one city.  They remind us that we are all connected, even when we are wrapped up in our individual worlds.  Their stories are both heart-breaking and heart-warming, and they beautifully illustrate the differences even in our shared space within each of our minds, hearts, and lives.

McCann has brilliantly crafted these stories, and some of the connections are so subtle that I had to flip back through past stories to confirm them.  For this reason, I highly advise against reading this book on an e-reader, though I myself am an avid Kindle user.  There are some ways in which an e-reader will never be able to measure up to physical books, and this novel highlights those differences.  I believe your reading experience will be much richer if you continually check back on past stories and piece the vignettes together. By the end of the novel, you will find that they all function in a circle, and to appreciate them individually, you must appreciate them as a whole.

For the New York Times review of Let the Great World Spin, click the image below:

Manchester by the Book

In the coastal Massachusetts town of Manchester-By-the-Sea, there is a small bookstore called Manchester By the Book.  Around the shop are local coffee stores, a small market, and a white New England church at the corner.  The ocean hugs the back of the store, and the distinct smells of fish and seaweed lightly waft in the sidewalk by the door.  As soon as you enter the shop, you are greeted by the smell of ancient pages, and the owner catches your eye behind the stacks of books lining his checkout counter as he quietly reads and chats with his customers.

If you step through these doors, you have just entered the best bookstore I have ever encountered.  I have traveled a fair amount in my life thus far, always checking out the local libraries and even studying within the grand halls of Oxford's Bodleian.  I have browsed through New York City's Strand Bookstore, famous for its size and collection.  I have wandered into the basement of city shops to find even the most obscure used bookstore in its premises.  Yet in all my wanderings, I have never been to a better place than Manchester by the Book.

Mark Stolle, the owner of the bookstore, has hand-picked every single item on his shelves.  He may not have read every book he sells, but he knows of all of them and can spout off a tidbit of information on each author.  The store is so stuffed that books have piled up into heaps on the floor and are overflowing in the shelving, but every single book is of a high caliber.  I have watched him first-hand look through books customers try to sell to him and turn them away because they do not meet his standards.

Because he is nestled in this historic New England town, he has gathered an amazing collection of First Edition copies of classics.  One treasured moment in the store for me was holding in my hands a First Edition copy of Uncle Tom's Cabin.  To this day, I still kick myself for not snatching it up!  Not all is lost, however, as I have acquired a First Edition copy of A Portrait of a Lady and beautiful, leather-bound early editions of Heart of Darkness and Dostoevsky's diaries.  Stolle has made himself known in the area, so he is frequently called to local homes to scan their bookshelves and discover these treasures.  He doesn't even need to go to auctions anymore, as he has developed a reputable clientele at this point.  There are always treasured copies in his store, I guarantee it.

Although the setting and quality of the books are remarkable on their own, the real treasure is Stolle himself.  He is incredibly well-read, and I am awed by his knowledge at every visit.  However, his spirit is amazingly humble without even a hint of pretension in his voice.  If you give him the slightest window, he will happily engage in literary dialogue.  He gently probes your knowledge and develops a sense of the kind of books that appeal to you.  I am very conscious of my literary taste when I'm around him, and though he seeks it without judgment, I can't help sensing that he is testing me.  What does this girl like to read?  Is she really the right customer for this store?  Although I frequently have to say, "No, I've not read that one" and "Actually, I've never even heard of that author," I think I have passed his test because he envelops me in warmth and discussion.  When I purchased Dostoevsky's diaries, he said with a silent nod of approval, "I am glad to see these going to a good home."

If you visit frequently enough, Stolle recognizes you and eagerly shows off his latest acquisitions.  He knows that I love the First Editions and offers them for me to comb through even when he knows I can't afford to buy them.  And if you give him an opening to talk about his life, you may find out some incredible personal history.  Stolle was personal friends with John Updike, so much so that Updike actually bequeathed his personal library to Stolle in his will upon his death.  But in all his humility, you would never guess that he made such a connection with the famously introverted author.

I have just stepped away from this wonderful store, visiting it for the first time in about a year.  I no longer live in Massachusetts, though days like today motivate me to move back soon.  On this visit, Stolle was so caught up in our conversation that he gifted me with two additional books simply because he was eager for me to read them.  I tried to pay for them, but he pushed it away and said, "That's just the kind of store this is."

Precisely.  That is just the kind of store it is.  If any of you have even the slightest appreciate for quality literature, you must make a pilgrimage to this bookstore.  You can check out its website at manchesterbythebook.com but it doesn't even begin to capture the treasure you will discover inside.  Do yourself a favor and come to this bookstore.  Talk to Stolle and take his reading advice.  It will be well worth your time.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Lately, I've found that I keep mentioning A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith in conversation, and I think it's about time I review it for my blog.  Written in 1943, this Classic novel covers events of the early 20th century from the perspective of a young girl named Francie Nolan.  Born in a poor Irish family, Francie grows up through family struggle, awkward adolescence, hard work, and endearing hopefulness.  It's a beautiful story, and I quickly flew through the pages in captivated interest.

In some ways, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn reminds me of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee.  In both stories, readers experience the world through a young girl who demonstrates an equal portion of naivete and maturity in her interactions.  However, Smith's novel covers a much larger scope and depth with her characters, spanning several decades and giving insight into several characters' minds.  Francie's mother Katie is one of the more significant characters, and she is a wonderful combination of strength, stubbornness, and romanticism that readers can both embrace and pity.  Her aunt Sissy is another colorful character, one who gives love so freely that it costs her reputation and breaks her heart.  And, of course, there's an interesting dynamic between Francie and her father, a sweet one of a daughter's unadulterated love despite his flaws that nabbed my heart.

Francie's story could easily be described as a "Coming of Age" novel, and I loved following her through the years.  Her childish insecurities are never fully overcome, but they convincingly form her in her later years.  She is smart and has her mother's stubbornness, but she also has to deal with the hole in her heart that desires to be cherished. Smith weaves through her tale in flashbacks and foreshadowing, but it seamlessly forms a lovely narrative.

There are so many themes in the novel I could address, such as growing up in struggling, grasping one's sexuality, persevering through grief, forming a community, etc.  But if I step back and think about the novel as a whole, my primary impression is the disparate ways family members relate with one another.  The characters never quite express themselves clearly, and they all show their love in different ways.  They are protective of one another and support each other, but they also take advantage of one another.  They celebrate in their victories and share in their griefs.  Francie is often ostracized and ignored, but deep down she knows of her family's love.  At times, she is eager to please, but she also reserves some personal thoughts and feelings tightly in her heart.  There is something so realistic about the characters' struggles, flaws, and shortcomings that it makes their loving gestures even more powerful.  It's a great book and certainly deserves the status it has achieved as a piece of Classic Literature.

The Idiot: A Mixed Review

Some of the best books I've ever read were written by Fyodor Dosteovsky.  Notes from the Underground is a fascinating narrative of fragmented, conflicting thoughts.  Crime and Punishment explores the conflict of a tortured yet lovable man who commits a heinous act of violence. The Brothers Karamazov brilliantly presents various philosophies in character dialogues, offering both fascinating and conflicting insight in important aspects of human nature.


Thus, when I finally nestled down with my copy of The Idiot, I eagerly anticipated what was coming in the pages.  I trustfully pushed through the initial confusion that always comes with Russian texts as I tried to sort out the characters in my mind and grasp the scenes.  I waited patiently as Myshkin bumbled his way through the St. Petersburg social scene, anticipating some kind of dramatic character development that would absorb me.  And remembering past Dostoevsky pieces, I fully expected a twist and a dramatic ending.

There were some moments that I loved, and the ending was as unexpected as I had expected.  (If that makes any sense...)  However, the novel as a whole disappointed me.  It's just simply not as good as the others.

To be fair, there are certainly some strengths to this piece.  The irony of the title is ever-present and adds a significant dimension to the story.  Prince Myshkin is generally considered an idiot by the characters, but the readers can clearly see that he is highly intelligent but also highly naive.  Myshkin has spent most of his life in a small town in Switzerland being treated for epilepsy, a disease whose seizures often disturb and bias those who witness them.  All of his seizures in the novel come at pinnacle moments in the story, and it would be interesting to do a study of each of these events.  But there is nothing wrong with his cognitive ability, despite the title of the novel.  He is incredibly compassionate and becomes highly invested in the people he meets in a short amount of time.  His innocence is often met with cynical disdain by those around him, which feels extraordinarily modern to me.  Most of us, especially those of us from the city, would treat someone with such a blind trust in others with similar prideful derision.  In fact, I'm not convinced that Dostoevsky really wants us to admire Myshkin, despite the fondness we might feel for him.  Nevertheless, he is an interesting character in theory.

However, I think that Myshkin's nature is also the primary reason I did not enjoy this novel as much as the others.  For various reasons, I am far more drawn by flawed characters than "perfect" ones.  I just don't think that Myshkin had enough depth to successfully carry the weight of the story.  If The Brothers Karamazov had been all about Alyosha, for example, there's no way I would have enjoyed it as much as I did.  Alyosha provided a valuable dimension to the story, but Ivan and Dmitri were necessary to give the novel its proper balance and ingenious complexity.  The Idiot simply lacked that.

To add my own balance to this review, I want to include another aspect of the story that I did like.  The scene that I will remember the most was the long-awaited confrontation between Nastassya and Aglaya.  Both women have their flaws, and there are certainly aspects of their characters I dislike from a feminist perspective as well.  However, it's not often that two women so remarkably overpower a man in 19th century literature.  As they battled openly in front of Myshkin, I felt the swell of their tension as well as their equal intelligence.  Both women are beautiful, headstrong, opinionated, and romantic at heart, and I felt this combination was incredibly unique among female characters of this era.  Moreover, there are two of them in this one story!  Poor Myshkin was frozen by their confrontation and could hardly react.  I think that one of Dostoevsky's greatest strengths is when he engages in a lengthy dialogue between two characters.  This scene between Nastassya and Aglaya is just as memorable for me as some of the dialogues in his other brilliant works.

It has taken me several months to come to terms with the fact that I did not love this book.  I was so sure that it would impact me the way Dostoevsky's other writing has done.  It helps me to identify the strengths in the novel and to recognize that perhaps my expectations were unrealistic.  Now, all I have left to read of Dostoevsky's masterpieces is Demons.  I may save this one for a while, holding out hope that I will find it to be as brilliant and fascinating as some of the others.  But having now read The Idiot, I think I will lower my expectations and try to keep a more open mind before I begin.  I still consider Dostoevsky my favorite author, and I look forward to reading this last novel someday before too long.

Top Ten Tuesday: Literary Heroines

Alright, so it's not actually Tuesday today, but try to withhold your objections.  I was browsing my blogger feed just today when I saw that this week's Top Ten Tuesday by the Broke and the Bookish was about Literary Heroines.  Kimberly spouted off a list of "Kick Ass" heroines, and over 200 people have already participated in the Blog Hop!

Immediately, I wanted to join in this discussion.  This is actually a tough one for me, which bothers me on a number of levels.  I confess that most of my favorite literary figures are men and written by men.  The feminist in me balks at this, so I decided I needed to take the challenge and gather up my favorite fictional females.


OK, starting in reverse order with Number 10...

10. Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games

Katniss probably shows up in a large percentage of the blog hops for this one, so it's incredibly cliche for me to include her as well. However, I really do like her as a character so I'm jumping on the bandwagon.  I love that she's stubborn, independent, focused, and a major badass.  Plus, I like that she doesn't moon over the love triangle or over-analyze those relationships.  She's a great example for the YA readers.

9. Meg Murry in The Wrinkle in Time Series

Yet another YA choice, I decided to add Meg to my list.  She was definitely a literary hero to me back when I read these books.  She's smart, bookish, and awkward and yet manages to cross time continuums, save her family, and fall in love.  As a smart, bookish, awkward girl reading this, it was inspiring to me.

8. Scout Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird

Who doesn't love Scout?  She's curious and sweet, a little tomboy who loves her big brother.  She doesn't always understand what's happening, but she has a good heart and absorbs a lot of it.  We sort of get to experience her growing up, and there's an endearing juxtaposition of maturity and naiveté.

7. Francie Nolan in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

I haven't written a review of this one yet, though I will do so soon.  It actually reminds me of To Kill a Mockingbird, for we follow a young girl's perspective.  But there is a lot more character development with Francie, and the story covers years of her life.

6. Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany's

First, I want to emphasize that I am referring to the Pulitzer Prize winning novella, not the movie.  Having said that, I also want to say that the movie is remarkably faithful to the original story and tells it beautifully.  Holly is so easy to love, for characters, readers, and movie-watchers.  She is quick-witted and flighty, and we see just a hint of the hurt and vulnerability underneath.  If you haven't read the novella yet, you really should.

5. Mariam in A Thousand Splendid Suns

I chose Mariam as my literary hero, but Laila is also worthy of being mentioned.  This book is remarkable for its relationship between two women who face intense suffering.  They are both married to the same abusive man, but it creates no jealous or bitterness between them.  Instead, they draw strength from one another, and their story is absolutely inspirational.

4. Mina Murray in Dracula

I doubt many people would pick her out of this story, but I loved her.  Mina really was a badass, particularly considering the era in which this was written - 1897.  Unlike Lucy, she is not the damsel in distress of the story.  She is actively involved in chasing Dracula, offering intelligent and brave participation.  She's like a 100-year precursor to Buffy.

3. Ethne Eustace in The Four Feathers

I feel like I've always lauded Ethne as one of my absolute favorite literary heroines.  I adore this book, and Ethne is a big part of the reason.  Although she acted rashly and pridefully at the beginning, she spends the rest of the novel in pursuit of redeeming herself.  She has extremely high standards for herself, but doesn't act like a martyr for it.  I think you have to read it to understand what I mean.

2. Isabel Archer in The Portrait of a Lady

I love Isabel!  She is admired for being intelligent, independent, and adventurous.  She is always hungry to learn and listens carefully to other people's perspectives.  Rather than following the path of her sisters, she strikes out on her own and embraces the uncertainty.  Even when her life takes an unexpected turn, she holds her head high and works through it.  I could read this book over and over again.

And the winner is...

1. Wife of Bath in The Canterbury Tales

I couldn't resist listing her as my favorite.  Keep in mind that this was written in the 14th century!  The Wife of Bath gets more attention than just about any other character.  She comments on other people's tales throughout the collection, but her own is one of the most memorable.  She's not bashful about her sexuality or her sense of humor.  I'm sure there are a number of feminist objections one can make, but I still like her and think she's pretty awesome.

October Reading

Dear Book Friends,

I absolutely love the fall.  I eagerly jump into the season by wearing jackets and sweaters, drinking apple cider, and eating all things pumpkin-flavored.  The trees are finally starting to change colors, and the air at its best smells like leaves and campfires.  I love the crispness of the wind on my cheeks when it starts to get cold, and I celebrate the little shivers down my spine.  I've already visited the apple orchard, walked through a corn maze, and brought home a pumpkin.  The mulling spices I bought are just begging to be made into mulled red wine.

So now I ask for your help...  I want to echo my love for the fall with my reading choices as well.  Last year, I decided to get into the spirit of October by reading a lot of famous spooky, eerie, and/or autumn-themed books.  I posted my reviews of them throughout the month and saw many of you doing similar reviews and read those as well.  I've noticed a recent surge of readership on these posts again this season, so I'm hoping you have been able to get into the spirit again and are checking them out.  Before then, I had never read these amazing books before, and I was pleasantly surprised that they were quality literature in addition to good October reads.  So I'm hoping you can help me continue the tradition and recommend some to try this year.

Here was last year's list:

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

The Masque of the Red Death by Edgar Allan Poe

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James

Dracula by Bram Stoker

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving


Now I know the month is nearly over, and I should have asked you sooner.  But I can always put them aside for next year, so don't hesitate to suggest something even if the month has passed.  Remember, they must be considered Classic Literature or worthy of such status, so please don't try to suggest Twilight or something.  *shudder*  (Yes, I am a book snob.  Don't act too surprised.)  However, I am not opposed to books written recently or ones that are obscure, so long as they are written well.  It doesn't have to be old or famous to be good.  It also doesn't have to have a Halloween theme, so long as it takes place in the fall.  A Room of One's Own, for example, has tons of references to October even though it isn't in narrative form.  So feel free to surprise me.

I hope to hear from you!  Happy October!!

A Room of One's Own

When I wrote my earlier post about Feminist Literary Analysis, I didn't have this book listed among my recommendations because I hadn't read it yet, and many of you were quick to point out the obvious hole it left.  But once I grabbed a copy, I absolutely loved it.  In fact, I've already read it twice.

A Room of One's Own is an elongated essay by Virginia Woolf, written in her characteristic stream-of-consciousness style.  She had been asked to discuss women and fiction, and her conclusion, in brief, was that each woman needs her own source of income and a room of her own in order to write freely.  Because she was writing in 1928, the obvious female examples who came to mind were Jane Austen, George Eliot, and the Bronte sisters.  These women had successfully produced fiction that society embraced and valued.  The 1920s had been boosted by the surge of the first wave of feminism, and Woolf took this opportunity to continue moving it forward.  Yet in order to do so, she studied the history of women and fiction, and she emphasized the need to be conscious of the tradition we have inherited.

Nestled in a library, Woolf researched the history of women and fiction.  Yet as she did so, it became clear that we have an unfilled heritage and are missing many potential heroes of our past.  Her famous example of Shakespeare's fictional sister stands out in our mind to represent centuries of women whose voices we will never get to hear.  So when she finally reaches Aphra Behn, I am filled with appreciation and longing to lay a flower beside her grave.  (I did try to do that once when I visited Westminster Abbey, but I couldn't find it!  I am still kicking myself for not searching longer, and I hope to go back someday to fulfill this mission.)

I have read several of Woolf's novels in her stream-of-consciousness style, but I think this essay is my favorite use of it.  We feel as though we are working through every thought with her and experiencing her discoveries, surprises, and realizations in real time alongside her.  She gets distracted and side-tracked at moments, but the whole piece blends together as one continuous thought.  The chapter breaks seem unnecessary and out of place, as though the thought process should not be broken or stopped.  It made me read the book very quickly each time I read it because I felt carried by the wave of her words.  This time, it was especially fun to read it in October because of her description of this season in her writing as well.

I think that one of the most remarkable things about this book is its tone.  There is no trace of anger or bitterness when she discusses women's past oppression, and she does not indicate that men must be pushed down in order for women to surge forward.  At times, she certainly evinces some hurt caused by men and the way they have treated women.  But she states:

"I need not hate any man; he cannot hurt me.  I need not flatter any man; he has nothing to give me.  So imperceptibly, I found myself adopting a new attitude towards the other half of the human race.  It was absurd to blame any class or any sex, as a whole.  Great bodies of people are never responsible for what they do.  They are driven by instincts which are not within their control."

Repeatedly, Woolf says that anger against men and their poor treatment of women is yet another obstacle in the progression of the female race.  Good writing is marred by traces of bitterness and contempt.  She praises the four famous novelists specifically for "writing without hate, without bitterness, without fear, without protest, without preaching."  She insists that every woman must write for herself, not in reaction to others or in order to make them feel a certain way.  The best writing is based on truth and honest feelings without hidden (or obvious) agendas.

Now, I have to add a small footnote and say that I do not agree with everything Woolf says in this book.  The last chapter in particular contains some theories I do not fully support, dichotomizing things as masculine and feminine in perhaps an unhealthy light.  However, Woolf was far ahead of her time and made great strides for the feminist movement, so I do not criticize her at all.  Many leaders in the third wave of feminism have since picked up this idea and pursued its implications, and Woolf helped us get to this place.

And so, I will end my post with Woolf's wise words.  She has an amazing sense of humility underneath her brilliant wisdom and advice.  I can easily start believing that I know good literature apart from bad literature, and this blog is my soapbox to preach my taste.  But I want to keep in mind that reading is an individual experience, despite all the ways we can form community around it.  And I'll let Woolf have the last word this time.

"Here I would stop, but the pressure of convention decrees that every speech must end with a peroration.  And a peroration addressed to women should have something particularly exalting and ennobling about it... I find myself saying briefly and prosaically that it is much more important to be oneself than anything else.  Do not dream of influencing people... Think of things in themselves."