Summer of Light by W. Dale Cramer

rating: ****
publisher: Bethany House


Reading Lynn Austin and W. Dale Cramer in the same week reaffirms my long-standing opinion that they are the two strongest writers in the Christian marketplace. I fell in love with Cramer’s prose when I read Bad Ground and then subsequently with the rest of if his novels. Cramer once mentioned in an interview that some of his greatest influences were Faulkner and Steinbeck. Reading his thoughtful, well-embroidered yarns you can easily detect this influence. Though Summer of Light is a bit of a more breezy read without the seeming emotional or thematic depth of Bad Ground and Levi’s Will, it is still an exceptional novel... And, when held up against other contemporary Christian novels manages to pack quite the punch.

Mick Brannigan is a tough iron worker with set views that a man’s place is as the breadwinner. Though Mick loves his kids and his paralegal working wife, he is steadfast in his beliefs that he should be out of the home and on the job. After an unfortunate accident, Mick is forced to leave the working world and care for his three children: Toad, Ben and the sometimes challenging Dylan.

More than a “Mr. Mom” story, Summer of the Light is a novel of perspectives cast by differing shards of light. The search for the perfect light and the challenge to capture the perfect light is a resounding theme in the novel. Mick’s talent for photography, his upscale neighbour Aubrey’s coaching and the homeless man-with-no-hands’ classic opinion help Mick thrive in an element foreign to him: one of art and light borne of seemingly commonplace circumstance. This light, as embodied in photography, in the stainglass of a monastery, in a sunrise over a ramshackle barn was ( to this reader) the manifestation of God in human places.

Mick sees most clearly when things are reflected in a certain light. This ironworker/ photographer has an almost preternatural reverence for light at angles and the perspective these angles give him. The reader is given the same perspective as Mick as he is the character driving the novel.

From a monastery, to an empty barn to a homeless sector beneath the bridges, Mick’s photographic eye snaps everything: Hope, Charity, Emptiness, Faith …. People, his kids and a zillion different reflections.

Cramer is magnificent with symbolism and theme. Some if his descriptive prose is quite breathtaking and he does well in using photography and an artist’s eye to capture the exceptionalities of what Mick once found commonplace.



Tolkien once mentioned that his Lord of the Rings novels were a type of “pre-evangelum”: stories with symbols and archetypes which bordered on the metaphysical--- prodding readers to contemplate rather than receive a forced conceptualization of theology. I feel that Cramer uses this same practice. Though his characters ( especially the Preacher) are recognizable symbols of Faith, there is nothing explicity or exploitatively “Christianese.” Instead, Cramer infuses Christianity through practice rather than words. Any Christianity is embodied through actions. Cramer mentions something along the Francis of Assisi line “ preach the Gospel, if necessary use words” ( my paraphrase) when Mick realizes that Dylan will mirror his actions rather than internalize his words. Cramer doesn’t bludgeon you over the head with the Gospel, rather he credits the thinking reader with enough dots to be connected: parables to be chewed over and aligned with resonant Faith.


My only Cramer complaint is that the Christian reading populous has heard nothing of him since this publication two years back ( I just read it now. I was saving it for a rainy day). I wish he would come out of hiding because the Christian book publishing prospect of 2009 is rather empty without him.





More W. Dale Cramer? He will completely overhaul any preconceptions you had of Christian fiction

• interview
• books ( get them all)
• another interview
• and another interview

...and hold on. I will get to Hidden Places! I am just savouring a re-read. I always go through a fantastic book and re-read my favourite bits to pick up any thread I missed.

A new take on TOP FIVE

My friend Courtney tagged me in a meme which asked me to write about five things that I love.


I thought I would tweak it to reflect the subject matter of this blog.

Thus, I give you ( and ever so delightedly) five leading men I love from Christian novels.

These are my top five, so to speak and I hope you enjoy reading about them ....and will be inspired to hunt down the excellent books they live in.


1.) Neil MacNeill from Christy (Catherine Marshall)

has this book EVER been published with a good cover?

Dr. Neil MacNeill is a fiery Scotsman who sacrificed a prestigious city medical career to serve his mountain people in Cutter Gap ( the small populus ensconced in the Great Smokies of Tennessee).

Neil is a little bit different than numerous Christian heroes because he begins the book as an agnostic. He has a lineage tracing back to Bonnie Prince Charlie and a fiery temper to match his heritage. He is a skilled and brilliant doctor who is seemingly well ahead of the game dappling with groundbreaking cures ( for diseases like trachoma) while having some of the most rudimentary resources at his disposal. It is funny to see him as a suitable match for the coming-of-age schoolteacher Christy Huddleston, but they share a similar passion for the people and a desire to see more in the region than anyone in the "outside" world ever will. This not only solidifies their relationship ( even if it is interspersed with some incredibly verbal battles), it helps Christy grow into the strong and independent woman she is to become...all the while turning Neil back to faith.

(note: they made a rather horrific family television series which diluded all of the serious subject matter of the powerful book. But they did one thing right. They gave Neil MacNeill a pension for opera and flyfishing. I thought this was a poignant touch and very much in character: delineating him from the mountain people he was descended from while sewing a common thread to Christy's cultural background in upscale Ashville).


2.) John Murphy Vienna Prelude (Bodie Thoene)

I think I can safely say that John Murphy was my first fictional crush. I had turned 12 when I read Vienna Prelude for the first time ( I have read it every year since at Christmas time) and I immediately fell under the spell of this brash, quick-witted New York Times reporter. I first fell for him when he was saving Theo Lindheim and his beautiful violinist daughter from a Nazi interrogation at a Berlin train station. Murphy snappingly responded to a mousy Gestapo's "Heil Hitler" with a quick "Twenty Three Skidoo". Some things just don't translate.

Not a spineless, mopey lover, Murphy pursues Elisa doggedly---even accepts her proposal of an arranged marriage , crashes a Kosher Zionist party with ham as a gift, and buys a multitude of symphony tickets in a seat and row which directly align with her chair in the orchestra section. In later novels in the series (The Zion Covenant) , Thoene tells us that John Murphy resembles Jimmy Stewart. Sign me up! Like Neil MacNeill, Murphy does not begin the novel as a Christian allowing the reader to be ministered through those who minister and challenge him.


3.) Silas McClure A Proper Pursuit (Lynn Austin)

I'm reticent to reveal the delicious secret surrounding Silas in case you have yet to read the novel ( please go get it now ). Suffice it to say, Silas is one of my all time favourite leading men. Sort of Harold Hill ( think the charm of the Music Man) without the sly ulterior motives. Silas is an elixir salesman: a drummer clad in saddle shoes and bright suits with stunning blue eyes and a candleabra smile. Silas is light-hearted, adventurous and funny with a fire crackery "gee whillicker" boyish charm. He provides heroine Violet Hayes with a taste of the penny novel adventures she longs for, takes her up Mr. Ferris' Wheel at the Chicago World's Fair and engages in bouts of a "would you rather" game." He is also one half of the most tingly, joyous kissing scenes I have ever read.

One thing I am learning as I read more Austin is that her best heroes have a tendency to see more in the heroines than they do in themselves. This has always been a romantic trait for me. Well-done Silas! And he's a Christian! Praise the Lord. I wish I could bring him home to meet my mother.


4.) Phineas Snowe All the Tea in China (Jane Orcutt)


What I like most about Phineas is that he is part of the reason Orcutt's novel strays from falling into convention. He is sneaky and not always truthful but he treats sword-wielding wordsmith Isabella as an equal. Phineas doesn't shy away from teaching Isabella the finest of Chinese combat and legend and martial arts. Further, he engages in many a match of witty repartee with Isabella which adds to the novel's sheer brilliant, diamondy dialogue. He's not who he seems but he is a lot of fun and gives a fresh and unexpected twist to a taut and tantalizing Regency adventure.


I think I knew from the first scene ( which plays like something out of a Jane Austen drawing room with a careful match of well-strung words) that he and Isabella would provide me with hours... meaning pages... of blissful entertainment.


5.)Wynn Delaney The Canadian West series (Janette Oke)

Who doesn't love a man in uniform? Face it, these books may have as much depth as a tea spoon but they are classic. In a wonderful twist relating to her subject matter, Oke is very much a pioneer in the genre: paving the way for other Christian novelists as Wynn and Elizabeth were part of the mass settlement in the Canadian West.

Well, I AM biased. As a Canadian, I have a soft spot for the tales about a gorgeous, steadfast mountie of impeccable character whisking a courageous and refined schoolteacher to a remote post in the Canadian West. The scenery is beautiful ( and not just Wynn in scarlet) and the episodic events create inspiring terrain for Christian values and morals. I also really enjoy the close proximity of the Delaneys to the First Nations. We learn a lot about a rich and beautiful cultural heritage.


Honourable mention:

John Falconer Heirs of Acadia series (T.Davis Bunn)

I read the entire series for this former slavetrader whose dark, redemptive journey challenged and compelled me. I think Falconer is one of the most dimensional Christian heroes in years. I strongly recommend these books for those who hanker after solid character pieces.

Christy Awards

Named after one of the greatest Christian fiction novels ever written, The Christy finalists are announced.

Interesting catagories and some excellent shortlists this year.

See here

and yes, Lynn Austin is nominated.

Well-played Lynn Austin

I am currently reading Hidden Places and, as per usual, am blown away by Austin's prose. She paints images with words I would never think of stringing together.

Pending a review of the sumptuous book ( I cannot get enough of it ...I am reading some paragraphs over again so I don't miss one well-situated word or phrase), I thought I would dedicate a whole entry to Lynn Austin.


I think I mentioned previously that even in the novels without strong starts ( I had trouble sinking into Until we Reach Home) she always wins me over with a moment I was never, ever expecting.

Here, they start at the beginning.



Here is Lynn Austin's website. Just buy the lot of her work. She has such a wide range and she is an incredibly beautiful writer.






p.s. Apparently they made a television film adaptation of Hidden Places with Shirley Jones (!!!) however, a synopsis assured me it strayed too far from the novel for my liking.

"The Cubicle Next Door" by Siri Mitchell

rating: ***
publisher: Harvest House



Jackie works for the US Air Force. She has been there for ten years, is extremely proficient and has her own office.

But, not for long.


The powers-that-be squeeze a divider between Jackie and a new pilot/history teacher named Joe and office space becomes a little more crammed.


Even more so because Joe immediately likes Jackie and spends the rest of their working relationship pulling her out of her comfort zone (vis-a-vis a cubicle) and on to the rest of her life.


The metaphor of the cubicle closing someone in to a space: trapped and somewhat ignored is a prevalent one in Mitchell's breezy chicklit.

Jackie narrates that story with precision and a fresh sarcasm/realism that few first person narratives can pull off.


Joe is an engaging, funny and downright adorable pilot ( with dimples *cough*) who endears us (and Jackie) by seeing more in her than she ever does in herself.


While this is a strong contender in the realm of Christian chicklit, I cannot help but think that Mitchell was somehow reigning in what could have been an even more daring and delectable novel.

This could be because her most recent foray into the genre, A Constant Heart is more than one of the best of its kind.


The Cubicle Next Door refers to an eponymous blog wherein Jackie informs a wide readership of her confused and mixed feelings toward Joe. She also shares some kernels of wisdom and a delightful vulnerability.

This being said, the blog itself is the weakest part of the novel. For a writer like Mitchell, crafty blogs should be a cinch but I could not figure out why this blog enticed upward of 20 000 hits a day. Moreover, why it would be the subject of a television news segment ....the very one that lures Joe into reading it daily----unaware of its author.


The premise is catchy and the characters well-drawn ( I love Oliver: Grandmother's British love interest and the ladies Joe helps switch from Bridge to Poker).

This is a light and page-turning read that I devoured in a sitting. Joe IS wonderful and the tenacity and patience in his pursuit of Jackie will restore a reader's faith in romance.

I particularly enjoyed the setting of Colorado Springs and area as that is a familiar territory for me because one of my closest friends lives there. It made me feel inadvertently at home.


I would definitely consider reading A Constant Heart if you can choose but one Mitchell title. However, you cannot go wrong with this slightly lesser fare. Mitchell has a knack for words and stories that translates well into any genre.


More Mitchell? I recommend here highly.... see here

A Proper Pursuit by Lynn Austin

Rating:****

Publisher: Bethany House

A Proper Pursuit by Lynn Austin is one of my favourite Christian novels of the past year. It is sweet confection and tugs your heartstrings while catching you in a dizzy whirl of romance and fun.

Violet Hayes is ecstatic to leave her stepmother and her usual high-society existence for the adventure and mystery she is sure await her at the Chicago World’s Fair. Violet knows that staying with her eccentric aunts and society-hungry grandmother are an easy trade for the chance of finding the mother she recently learned abandoned her….while soaking up the intrigue she has read about in dime novels and Sherlock Holmes stories.

Violet is an imaginative and engaging young woman who is always at the ready to snap up romance and danger. She is winning, endearing and brightly created.
As mentioned, Austin is one of the most capable novelists in the genre. Her structure is always one of her strongest suits. Here is no exception. Violet is courted by four very different suitors and both Violet and the reader are able to dissect each potential relationship though a telling trip to the World’s Fair.

One of Violet’s suitors, the enigmatic “drummer” Silas McClure is like Harold Hill meets Gilbert Blythe. It is hard to characterize Silas’ open charm. He is one of my favourite leading men in all of Christian fiction. He is surprising and mysterious and perfect for Violet…also for me. The two banter and play rounds of “would you rather” as well as exorcise their need for a bit of danger with trips to the beautifully-described Mr. Ferris’ wheel: one of many wonders of the Fair.

Austin has captured the period perfectly. Her characters, wit and dialogue shine. While, surfacely this novel seems to traipse at a more sunny and simplistic gait than the sterner subject of other works, it has serious undercurrents touching on abandonment, cultural and social discordance, loss, and the rights and roles of women in a subservient era.

And, on a superficial level, the novel has one of the most perfect kissing scenes I have ever read. Think of all of the hyperbole given “the kiss” in Goldman’s “Princess Bride” and top it by ten. This scene is electric.

Shove away the early Spring shivers with a warm and inviting novel that will send jolts of happiness up your arms and tingle your fingers with giddy joy.

I LOVE this book.


I recommend this novel heartily to readers Christian and non.

The God Cookie by Geoffrey Wood

rating:****
publisher: WaterBrook


Geoffrey "Leaper" Wood has more than exceeded my expectations with his jaw-droppingly well-written sophomore book.

In fact, The God Cookie should propel Wood into the large readership he deserves. I knew that the Christian reading populus had something special on their hands when we were gifted with Leaper's sparkly dialogue, fly-highing premise and thunderbolt of fresh creativity....and now this! All of the ingredients which made Leaper so giddily defy the norms of the genre have been healthily dolloped into the God Cookie....tenfold.



The God Cookie is not your grandma's yellowed Grace Livingston Hill novel; nor is it the broadly coloured collection of riff raf circa 1970 with a cover seemingly stolen from the movie poster of Funny Girl you would find in a church rummage sale. Instead, the God Cookie belongs in the Christian literary elite. Geoffrey Wood, I hope, has a long career in the industry because he will not conform. Take his gutsy plot---young barista who has copious world views on golfing and salt shakers but cannot wrap his head around the metaphysical, follows a holy trail spun from a vague interpretation of a fortune cookie he interprets as God's divine will. Through a caffeine-induced high and not withstanding the mockery of his coffee shop pals and the greater world's cocking of a sceptical is he for real? eyebrow, John Parrish is ready to listen. He scrapes by on a thread: following blindly a commandment to "take the corner."

"The Corner" holsters a discombobulated melange of bench-sitters---some seemingly waiting for a bus (or Godot?) which might never come. This mix leads John and his new pal Audra along a trail of redemption, life lessons and gritty, every-day Grace.


What I like most about Wood is that he meets everyone where they are at. Not all of the characters infiltrating this Christian novel are believers and, let's face it, by the end of the novel, there will be no mass-conversion and looping of arms in joyful song. There are no super-powered (well, there was one literally in Leaper....) molds of perfect spirtuality. John continually questions God in the way he questions his underworked employees Mason and Duncan about where the duct tape went.

Wood is a dynamite story teller who is funny, saucy, conversational and invitational: you feel like you are being invited as a privileged fly- on-the- wall witness to something outstanding. The realism surging each page makes this experience plausible and keeps the pages flipping.

Wood is heavy on dialogue ( especially in the first third of the novel) but he has a knack for it and each character has such a distinctive voice that were you to detract any notation of speaker, I have a feeling I would still be able to figure it out. This is a rare gift indeed. One, I think, which might derive from his extensive background in theatre.


As a coffee lover, I enjoyed long, frothy odes to the beverage as well as the tirades on the monotony of tea ( the anti-coffee).


As for the structure of the novel, it is almost genius: life changing, climactic events of pseudo-Biblical proportion unfold in the course of a week. In this span, numerous people ( making a big web, say), are changed and interconnected.


Poetry is apparently ( according to my grade ten teacher, at least) "the perfect words in the perfect order" and our friend Wood is apparently a poet. Example: a scene thawing a frigid urban February:

...blue touched blue and they became background for streaks and wisps of cloud. Sunlight, rays of it, gave a brightness like spring, a direct and golden-yellow brightness unlike the trapped, refracted glow of winter's day, and to that homogeneous cityscape that lay so inert and wide and flat, just a few spring rays of sunshine gave a sudden depth of dimension to everything. Individual things came alive, as if each stood brightly before you, each with its own story.


There are also whispers of unpreachy symbolism and comparison prompting the thinking reader to stop and pause. And, everything has meaning: Fritter Johns: the eponymous coffee shop derived ( very inadvertently ) from Robin Hood (a book John and his rag tag trio can "get behind") and John Parrish's name: which boasts a religiousity lending well to a discourse on the "everyman" or "parish":while still putting us in mind of one of Jesus' ultimate followers.


Geoff Wood went out on a limb ( again ) and succeeded. The vulnerability of his characters seems almost ironic when housed in such a stern, confident and strong novel. I like guts in my Christian fiction. This guy has guts.

Most importantly, however, beyond the pitch-perfect phrasing, the well-executed tale and the characters who spark and fly, is the message encapsulated in each page. A message of: 'we're not there yet, how can we possibly be? but, let's keep trying and searching; learning and listening, following redemptive strands that might lead to nowhere, rejoicing in hope and hats and snow....'


A cop tells John that he expects God on earth would find out the lonely places...rather than the over-crowded congregations. Wood reminds us that God meets us where we are at, if we give a little: no matter how flawed.....

I believe, most heartily, that He has found His way between the covers of a Geoffrey Wood novel and it would be an absolute shame to miss what He has to say.


More Geoffrey Wood: read interview here

reviews

Hello, I have written several reviews recently over on my Christian fiction blog:

I have a love/hate relationship with this genre which will be apparent when you read my reviews. I am always truthful and I hope never biased.


mantra: Just because its Christian, doesn't mean its good.

A Woman's Place by Lynn Austin

rating:***1/2
publisher: Bethany House


I am a huge Lynn Austin fan. I think she is one of the best novelists in the market and this is yet more evidence that she has strength and conviction as a faith-based writer.


A Woman's Place follows four women: Helen, Jean, Rosa and Ginnie --- all working Rosie-the-Riveter jobs in Northern Michigan during the Second World War. Each represents a different type likewise a different strength of woman: Rose is a fiery new wife of Italian origin who leaves Brooklyn to settle with her strict inlaws when her husband is shipped overseas; Helen is a middle-aged teacher and heir to a large fortune ---the only lasting member of a large family. Her past love life is explored and carries more than one surprise. If Rosa is the free-spirit, Helen is, at first glance, the stick-in-the-mud. Jean is a fresh-faced woman--- just 18 at the start of the novel, who yearns to go to college against the wishes of her All-American jock boyfriend. Her friendship with Earl the foreman at her ship-building factory job is the highlight of the novel; Ginnie is a stay-at-home mom whose war-time employment she hides from her keeping-up-with-the-Jones's huband. Ginnie yearns to discover that her value lay outside the conformity of a housewife ensconced in appearances of domestic norms. At one point, she is assured that the dog is the only member of the household who holds any affection for her.


The novel begins with a snapshot of the quartet in their respective pre-war lives nicely developing characters who will grow into dear friends as the pages progress. When the attack at Pearl Harbour hits, their lives are uprooted and the narrative continually rotates to each perspective of women-at-war.

The novel is at times funny, heartbreaking and warm. A scene where Rosa accidentaly spikes the punch bowl with vodka intoxicating her mother-in-law's church women's group had me in stitches.

The structure of the novel also works extremely well. More and more I learn that structure is one of many of Austin's strong suits.

Structure and the development of complex themes and issues. The first, in this novel, being racial prejudice. Though an inadvertent victim of prejudice herself, Helen is quick to judge a German POW begging for her acceptance.... driving the consequence of bigotry close to home.

Earl and his factory workers become victim to acts of racial persecution when they stand up for a black female engineer and Jean discovers that hatred is sometimes harboured not a stone's throw from your front porch.


Above all, Austin tackles the established role of women: at home, at work and through a Christian lens.

Austin empowers women while allowing them to thrive in a domestic role. Her housewife, Ginnie, is not "tame", her middle-aged teacher is not silent and submissive and Rosa and Jean are in turn intellectual, passionate and strong: women who carve their own path----for whom life as a wife and mother is a result of choice and not standard trajectory.

I especially felt that Austin did not favour one type of woman; nor champion one choice. Instead she realistically provided four examples and let her readers discover the universal spark in each... no matter profession, ideal, family sitatuation....

With this, I expect every reader will discover a bit of each of this well-drawn quarted is housed in themselves.

Rebecca's Reward by Lauraine Snelling

rating:*1/2
publisher: Bethany House


Rebecca's Reward by Lauraine Snelling is a light ( almost juvenile at times ) historical about a young woman who has experienced countless sorrows---through which she picks herself up never abandoning her dream of opening an ice cream shop in Bismarck.

I have not actively read Snelling since I was in high school and she has stayed in her niche ----women of nordic origin: pioneering, struggling, finding love and deepening faith.

Snelling would do well to abandon the choppy, distracting dialect which plagues so many Christian novelists. She more than introduces the origins of her characters and this weak link detracts from her dialogue....

That being said, Snelling does have a good handle on dialogue: considering she uses full pages of it at a time ( most prominently in a scene between Rebecca and her female friends.... the eponymous "Daughters of Blessing" ).


I also really liked Gerald: Rebecca's romantic lead in a relationship is at first shrouded in friendship while Rebecca learns to believe in its ability to foster sterner connection.


One thing that particularly irks me about Christian historicals is the propensity to add extraneous birth or death scenes.... Rebecca's Reward is not an exception: a scratchy, whirlwind delivery scene is scrunched in by p. 60. I am also not fond of italicized prayers provided over-zealously. This novel boasts a few too many.


This is not Snelling's best. She is a competent writer, she just never quite hit the mark here.

The Inheritance by Tamera Alexander

rating:**
publisher: Thomas Nelson

I initially wanted to write a scathing review of this book because it was certainly not my style and certainly not( as far as I could tell having read all of Alexander's other work) Alexander's style either. I almost want to go out on a limb and think that Alexander revised the initial form of this novel in order to have something to publish at Thomas Nelson for Women of Faith, but that is not a fair assessment since we cannot judge an author's intentions.

An author's note at the end of the book tells us that it was a revised story developed from one of her first attempts at writing. Oft rejected and having found success with her other series, Alexander shelved it... but the characters kept coming back to her.


I can easily say that the ingredients were there to make a escapist piece of romantic fiction, but they seemed to have been jumbled up somehow. So much so that I almost closed the book numerous times. It was, in my opinion, a step away from a Harlequin novel.

This, of course, was not appealing to me and I found some of the romantic strains woven into the narrative were less about love than physical lust.... not a bad thing, mind, if you are not working in the Christian field. So much was spent on the difficult passion ignited between Marshall Caradon and McKenna, that the characters did not express their views of the other's hearts.


As I thought more and more about this novel and how I found little enjoyment in it ( especially because I really liked Alexander's Remembered, Rekindled, etc., series and From A Distance--so much so I pre-ordered this month's ago), I realized that I am not the intended reader of this book.

This is a historical romance. I often tag Christian novels set in historical framework as "romances", merely because it always factors into the plot.... even if it is not the central theme. This book, however, is a romance novel..... a romance novel in the ilk of the Harlequin genre.


The more I thought about how it plays into its intended role, the more I found my initial distaste for the book mellowing.


If you are a romance reader you are going to love this novel. It has all of the formulaic elements needed to give you the satisfaction you search for. The characters are initially drawn to each other, have numerous obstacles to overcome and a bumpy ride toward happiness. Marshall Caradon is one-sexy-cop and if your pension for rugged terrain and men on horses informs your reading decisions then this is the book for you.


I thought Alexander could have followed up with her mention that McKenna's previous love had died in the line of duty....especially because widows and widowers and past loves and second chances are at the core of every one of her novels.


The theme of inheritance is interspersed throughout the novel ... in an unexpected way. It is not so much about the inheritance of money or property ( although that does factor ) as much as the inheritance of giftings and values.

I applaud Alexander for her knowledge of saddle-making. McKenna excels at it and this was a very "cool" job worthy of a tough woman!

For its intended audience, this is a sure-fire hit.

For those of you, like me, who like a little bit more quiet in your romance and passion, I highly recommend From a Distance: the first Alexander book I read and my favourite so far. The second in the series from which this book is derived will be published next month. I have pre-ordered it as well.



Happy Reading.

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

rating:****
publisher: everyone

"Christian fiction" now is made up of a thriving canon beginning with authors like Grace Livingston Hill, Janette Oke, Frank Peretti, etc., --- fiction that is constructed for the purpose of interweaving Christian values and concepts into fiction.

In the 19th century ( my niche and the subject of my degree), books were published with a high sense of morality: sunday school readers and children's verse and adult cautionary tales which drove homethe same bleak and brimstone ideas as predecessing days of chap books and loose pamphlets. In fact, as long as there has been print, I think we can safely say that Christians have tried to devise a way to spread the Gospel to the masses--- through the filter of the written word. Some parable, some philosophical, sermon, epistolary, Biblical commentary and history..... we Christians have a long written tradition to meet our thriving oral and musical one.


The wonderful thing about having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and living a lifestyle completely driven by Christian thought is your happily tainted eyes seem to find kernels of Christianity everywhere. You wear rose-coloured glasses that tip your mind's eye in a way privvy to any and all: symbolism, threads of grace, morality, Biblical reference, allegory, etc., that lead you back to the One who propels you forward.

Lucky for this Christian, I have the very great fortune of finding said Grace throughout my favourite era of literature.


Wholly conscious or not, the Victorians were steeped with Christian ideals and their literature is veritably drenched in it....


which brings me to the subject of Great Expectations: a novel where threads of Grace are far more prominent through my rose-coloured glasses than the romance between a blacksmith's apprentice and the cold Estella; the illusory value of riches and the Cinderella-yarn of a young man coming into his own. No, Great Expectations always brings me closer to God because it is, above all, a novel of unconditional love.


Unconditional love is first represented through Joe Gargery: narrator Pip's brother-in-law: a simple and good-natured blacksmith. When Pip is a child, Joe explains to him why he decided to marry Pip's harsh sister and take on a family not quite his own. He explains how he immediately thought of the orphaned Pip left to be raised by his sister and knew that he could find a place for both of them. Constantly reminded of the treacherous way in which his abusive father treated him and his mother, Joe is willing to atone his father's past wrongs by embracing Pip and his sister. Pip mentions looking up to Joe " in his heart" as he deciphers that he was the main reason for Joe's marriage to his cruel and abusive sister.

As Pip grows up and starts to visit Miss Havisham's, his view of Joe changes. The callous Estella: brought up to wreak havoc on the male sex, drives Pip with negative force. First, Pip develops a disdain for his life at the forge and Joe's work and for his home : a place once sanctified by Joe, as Pip recalls, but now a reminder of his shamefully low circumstance.


When Mr. Jagger's informs Pip that he is a young man of great expectations, Pip far too eagerly leaves Joe and new housekeeper Biddy to establish himself in London. On one occasion when Joe visits Pip in London, we see for the first time the ramifications of Pip's wealth and status. Pip treats Joe abysmally and Joe bears it like a saint. At the end of a tragically awkward meeting, Joe tells Pip inasmuch as it is a pleasure to see him anywhere, he knows that their social circumstances are severed. He cannot blame Pip for his treatment of him because he believes it is a relationship now welded by societal norms.

As far as his love for Pip ..... it remains unchanged. It even remains unchanged when Pip returns for his sister's funeral --- choosing the Blue Boar in his hometown as lodging rather than the home of his youth with widower Joe. Pip's airy promise to visit often prompts Joe to show unabashed affection. No matter how ungrateful Pip is, Joe will never scorn him or turn him away.


Perhaps the most Christianized ( if I may pen a word) segment of the novel occurs near the end. Pip has discovered the benefactor of his great expectations and been driven to near-ruin and heavy debt. All of his friends have deserted him and he lays deep in an encumbered illness... lugubrious prospects awaiting him when he awakes.

Joe, of course, becomes Pip's steadfast companion and nurses him through the illness. Further still, hardworking Joe ( for whom money and life are hard come by due to the nature of his occupation) has willingly paid all of Pip's debts; debts accumulated by money squandered on seeming propriety and wealth.


The second testament of unconditional love is not as innocent and pure as Joe's love for Pip. It is instead proven by Pip for the oft unworthy Estella. Pip first meets Estella when he is ordered to attend Miss Havisham at Satis House: an instrument for her masochistic amusement. Rejected by a man on her wedding day, Miss Havisham has brought up Estella as a mechanization of destruction. Estella, beautiful and proud, will break hearts and afflict the same suffering Miss Havisham endured.

Pip falls hard for Estella as a boy...perhaps for no other reason than that she represents a life so beyond the one laid out for him as a blacksmith.

In fact, all of Pip's actions ( good and not so good ) are borne of something relating to Estella. Estella first inspires Pip to rethink the way he was brought up when she scolds him for calling knaves "jacks". From there, Pip knows that his life at the forge will never be good enough for a girl of Estella's pedigree.


When Pip learns of his great expectations he becomes blinded by his (false) assumption that Miss Havisham is prepping him as a life mate for her ward, Estella. Pip's ingratitude toward Joe and his extravagant lifestyle and blatent snobbery burgeon out of Pip's need to make Estella love him.


While Estella is far from perfect: cold, callous, heartless and more stone than woman , Pip loves her unconditionally. Even when Estella becomes engaged to Bentley Drummle ( a suitor as hopelessly detached from emotion as she), Pip waits in the sidelines for a turn of events.


Unconditional love is a theme oft explored in theology, in Christian fiction, in the Bible and in secular fiction. However, its resonance as a Christian principle remains intact in a book published more than a century ago.

I think the conviction at the novel's core stems from Pip's treatment of Joe and Joe's treatment of Pip---good-hearted and true. In turn, Pip's steadfast love for Estella in spite of Estella's inability to feel warmth or care.


When Joe pays Pip's debts and refuses to hear anything about how they were accredited, I am always reminded of intrinsic Christian theology. There is nothing in the world that Pip can do that would make Joe love him less----- a continual reminder of Christ's sacrifice and his unconditional love for us.

A Constant Heart by Siri Mitchell

rating:****
publisher: Bethany House


And in this week’s This Christian Book Didn’t Suck segment, we have Siri Mitchell whose glorious foray into historical Fiction, A Constant Heart was pleasantly pleasantly received by this reader! I loved it! I did! I did!



I have to tell you, before Mitchell I could not think of one Christian author ( save the late Jane Orcutt) who could have done Elizabethan dialogue well. Most would have tried to get every third word or staved from it altogether. Not Mitchell. She wrote gracefully and with seeming effortlessness.







It is a beautiful historical with enough romance and intrigue and resonance of life as a courtier in the court of Elizabeth I to keep this picky reader titillated. No Courtier can love another woman save Queen Elizabeth I : not even his wife. And from this simple idea, Mitchell weaves her spell-binding and oft-poetic plot.


I have to admit I almost scanned this book on the shelf due to a.) my preconceived ( and obviously ill-founded) notion that a Christian writer could not broach the Elizabethan era and b.) due to the title ( which, surprisingly is strewn from a rather poignant moment in the development of a complex relationship between our hero and heroine).





This book is severely well-written: especially for its format. It criss-crosses from the perspective of the Earl of Lytham ( the flawed and human romantic lead ---expect a lot of dimension to characters here, even those in periphery ) and Marget his new and beautiful wife. I have never previously known this device to work well. Even in that now-pulp favourite “the Time Traveler’s Wife”, this is done forcefully and confusingly. Mitchell pulls it off with flair.


There is a Sir Walter Raleigh cameo …but not a stupid one. And, any moments where Elizabeth I plays into a scene are done surprisingly well, subtlely and without over-indulgence.


Impressively, the book is infused with historical accuracies without "a cut-from-this-source, paste here" feel that plagues so many writers of the genre.


The dialogue is spot on, the romance plot keeps you in “Elizabeth/Darcy will they EVER get together” mode and I learned a lot about the Elizabethan Era. Mitchell does a magnificent job of delving into the problem of face painting and the toxic ceruses and cosmetics that plagued Elizabeth and the women of her court.





On picking up this title I thought, due to the synopsis on the back, that it might be a romance of disparity of ranks: perhaps a lady of the court and a stable boy… and I was in the mood for that.What I got in its stead far exceeded my expectations.


There is nothing rash, crass or hasty here. Instead, we are given a thought-provoking expose of court life.


I had previously skipped Siri Mitchell's work because it seemed far too chick-lit for me. However, I hope she recognizes that she has found her niche.


You have all heard my treatise that I like one out of every five Christian novels I read ( and the other four are sometimes abysmal ). Siri Mitchell has leapt into my "Writers To Follow" list and I cannot wait to read more of her fresh and engaging prose.


One of the best Christian novels I have read this ( or any ) year.

Christmas Books

I always re-read some of my favourite books at Christmas and this year is no exception.

I packed last night for two weeks at home and while I packed numerous books I have not read, I also loaded up my gorgeous STRAND bag ( right from Greenwich Village and the largest used bookstore in the world ) with:

Vienna Prelude (Thoene) --- I have read this every year since I was 12. Always at Christmas. The first book I ever re-read

The Man with a Load of Mischief (Grimes)


Something by LM Montgomery ( usually Jane of Lantern Hill --- which it is this year )

Great Expectations (Dickens)

the Blooding of Jack Absolute (Humphreys)


Horatio Lyle ( a new tradition )

Eight Cousins and Rose in Bloom (Alcott)


I will let you know if I think of any more.


Remember to get your hands on a copy of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Schaeffer because I LOVED it!


Starting Ariadne Franklin's City of Shadows because I am hankering for something to do with the Romanovs and this looks thrilling and fun.

author meme

I snatched this from At Home with Books

1. Do you have a favorite author?

This is a really tough question because I have favourite authors for favourite genres. I have authors who are my favourite for very different reasons. Usually, when asked big umbrella questions, I answer Charles Dickens.

From a scholarship point of view, it's LM Montgomery

Mystery: Martha Grimes

gah! too many.

2. Have you read everything he or she has written?

Yes. I have read it all ( atleast I think I have, he was so prolific; but, a lot of letters, the serials, Sketches by Boz.....)

3. Did you LIKE everything?

I like the range of everything. I respect everything. Some books are better than others---but no two are the same.

4. How about a least favorite author?

Dan Brown.

5. An author you wanted to like, but didn’t?

Libba Bray is one. I was so excited about the Spense Academy books. The covers were gorgeous and I love historical YA but yawn. I hate it when authors' blogs are more clever than their novels ( which is the case here )

harry potter and doctor who hybrid...what?

Book covers and editions fascinate me. They are part of the bibliophilic experience and I collect numerous editions of my favourite books. Some for the covers;some for translations; some for prefaces or biblographies or historical significances or footnotes.


Here we have the upcoming edition of The Doomsday Machine -- the third volume of my beloved Horatio Lyle sequence.

got Dickens?

Round-Up:

• Saw The Sound of Music. Magnificent. The new production ( as produced and revamped by Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber ) was more than worth the price of admission
• Saw this year's National Ballet production of The Nutcracker at the Four Seasons Centre
• the temperature dropped ( and dropped )
• fair Toronto got snow
• Read Midnight Magic by Avi
• watched Dead Poets' Society

But, the most exciting thing in my world right now is the fact that glorious TVO has a headstart on Masterpiece Theatre and is showing the new ITV Dickens' Season starting with The Old Curiousity Shop .... HUZZAH


Next week, Oliver Twist.


Just like the Jane Austen Season of yore... only better.


Lots of carols to sing in church tonight! Woot!

literary doppelganger

And we had not talked about this before...how?


I was chatting with a friend at work yesterday. Someone with whom I have shared a SUITE at past conferences, yipped to ad nauseum during the day, eaten meals with and somehow (???!!!!!! ) we had never discussed that her favourite authors include

• Maureen Jennings
• Martha Grimes
• Patrick O'Brian
  
• Reginald Hill

How does that not come up? HOW?

I mean, sometimes, I will find someone who intersects genres with me ...mayhap a Reginald Hill fan ( they are few and far between in my world, so it would seem ) but Reginald, Martha Grimes AND Patrick O'Brian?

books I love that you've probably never read:

While reading Scott Lynch this weekend, I was forced to think about all of the books that I love that a lot of people would never stumble upon or read under normal circumstances.

So, I give you a bunch of books that have probably fallen under your radar, but are worth every word:


The Blooding of Jack Absolute by CC Humphreys. You've probably heard of Sharpe by Bernard Cornwell, you probably haven't heard of Humphreys. I love this series. Especially this book. It's one of the funniest I have ever read.


The Extraordinary and Unusual Adventures of Horatio Lyle, The Doomsday Machine, the Obsidian Dagger by Catherine Webb. Actually, if you have stumbled upon this blog you have read about them because I seem to talk about nothing else.

Captain Alatriste ( and subsequent novels ) by Arturo Perez Reverte. You have probably read or heard of the Flanders Panel and The Club Dumas but you have probably not read Alatriste.


Keturah and Lord Death by Martine Leavitt. This is a gorgeous, dark and brooding fairytale with a chilling ending that will steal your breath.


The Lies of Locke Lamora, Red Seas Under Red Skies and soon The Republic of Thieves by Scott Lynch. Sort of George RR Martin, Sort of Robin Hood, a heist and witty repartee that would make The Sting jealous, the best of high fantasy/imagined historical fiction.


Tribes by Arthur Slade. If you're Canadian, you have probably heard of Dust and Megiddo's Shadow but you probably skipped Tribes. Shame on you. Good book.


The Spell Book of Listen Taylor by Jaclyn Moriarty. This book is published by House of Anansi and has not quite risen to the status of The Year of Secret Assignments or The Murder of Bindy Mackenzie but it is brilliant and worth the read.

Deafening by Frances Itani. Set in small town Ontario during the years preceding and during the Great War, a well-spun romance between a deaf woman and a hearing stretcher-bearer who develop a language of their own. Glimpses of the homefront and the warfront are expounded upon poignantly.


Skulduggery Pleasant, Playing with Fire etc., by Derek Landy. Fire-throwing Skeleton detective pairs with whipsmart 12 year old in this funny and fresh series with the quickest dialogue since Nick and Norah Charles. Unbelievably good!


Montmorency: Thief, Liar Gentleman by Eleanor Updale. I am a champion of young adult novels with adult protagonists ( see Horatio Lyle ). A Jekyll and Hyde-esque romp through Victorian London.


Mairelon the Magician by Patricia C. Wrede. Magical, luminous historical novel.


The Privilege of the Sword by Ellen Kushner. Medieval-type fantasy starring sword-wielding heroine and a plethora of moody eccentrics.

no bad books?

The gorgeous and talented Shannon Hale ( author of Goose Girl and Austenland etc., etc.,)

wrote this blog: all informative and erudite.


please read.

Landings and Penderwicks and Benjamin Button..... with some W. O. Mitchell for good measure!

Finally! The GG award-winner for Children’s literature, Globe and Mail’s Washington correspondent writes The Landing: a kuntsleromanesque novel for young adults about Ben Mercer: a would-be violinist trapped in Depression-Era Muskoka.


A region very dear to my heart, Ibbotson carefully crafts and evokes Muskoka as a paradise amidst economic and social turmoil. A bittersweet region that is at once: mesmerizing and beautiful, dangerous and isolating.

The wealthy tourists spilling into the lake country view it as a prime position for lavish and grandiose parties. The residents whose livelihood relies on cushioning the granite and pine-treed spanse of northern Ontario , view it as a way of tireless existence.


Nevertheless, for good and for bad, Ibbotson painted home for me.

Ben Mercer is stuck at the Landing with his crippled and embittered uncle, Henry and his mother: still heavily grieving the passing of Ben’s father.

Ben dreams of leaving Muskoka, scooping up his violin and leaving the life of odd jobs aboard steamers like the Segwun ( which still ports out of Gravenhurst ), and chipping away at cottages for the wealthy and elite.

Ben wants to go to the Conservatory in Toronto and ensure that the steady fingers that move so liquidly ‘cross his violin are not smirched and worn by the hired hand work of his family.

The musical motif of the novel is pursued quite deftly. Especially with the arrival of Ruth Chapman: a Miss Havisham of a widow who smokes long cigarettes, drinks beer every day for lunch and wine for dinner ( a custom unheard of to small community Ben ), introduces hired Ben to martini olives and to stories of New York and glittering parties.

Ben sees in Ruth Chapman what his life as a musician might be. It is this vital relationship that is explored most intimately and that shadows the other relationships in the novel ( such as Ben’s rocky rapport with his equally-trapped uncle).

Unfortunately, a hefty amount of build-up as executed in a novel with eons of potential falls a little flat. Disappointingly so because I was so invested in seeing this full potential realized.

The ending speeds to an awkward and unexpected climax that staves off as quickly as it was built. It reads rather abruptly, as if the author was in a mad dash to tie up loose ends. They are tied, curtly, and with little grace.

I appreciate Ibbotson’s contribution to this year’s YA library especially because his nostalgiac retelling of a gilded age is painted on a Muskokan landscape: a region often eluding Canadian YA literature.

I will hunt Ibbotson down again… if only because he set his stage so intelligently and some of his phrasing was so compelling I returned to sentences more than once.

The end might reverberate harshly, but the journey was cleverly spun.

I give it a B+

Want more books? Fine. I give you The Penderwicks on Gardam Street by National Book Award Winner Jeanne Birdsall.

The Penderwicks make me nostalgiac. Episodic, charming, sweet. Birdsall is a first-class homage to Burnett, Alcott and Montgomery. She proves infectious.

I love the (mis)adventures of Batty, Skye, Jane and Rosalind. I love their little mishaps and the Sabrina Starr stories and their plays and soccer games. I love Batty’s chilling Hallowe’en bumping into the enigmatic Bug Man.

Each sister gets equal attention and Birdsall’s effortless narrative allows you to crawl into the characters’ thought processes and lodge there.

I especially loved clueless Mr. Penderwick: forever quoting Latin and harping on etymology. Prey, here, to visiting Aunt Claire’s blind dates, he becomes the central focus of a “Save Daddy” plot the sisters concoct to steer him from disastrous blind dates.

Not a fast paced book nor is it strewn with adventure. But, children will love it: Especially those who are champions of charming imaginative stories of home, colour and small adventures.

A peppermint-tea kind of book.

Oh. And plenty of space is given to faithful dog, Hound!

The nice people at Harper Collins sent me a hardcover, illustrated, swanky copy of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s short story, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I am going to see an advance screening of the film on Sunday and hope that it fleshes out details that Fitzgerald’s sparse writing and the infinitesimal length of the book did not allow.

A surprisingly visceral read, Benjamin Button creeped me out with surreal illogistics. Fitzgerald and I go way back…. But I cannot say I’ve read him in the past five or so years. How odd to be thrust back into the sphere of his terse writing. I had forgotten. As a teenager, I had a major fling with Fitzgerald. I fell hard. … especially for Tender is the Night and the Great Gatsby. But mostly for This Side of Paradise .

Ironically ( and unintentionally), the lavish lake parties in the Landing immediately sparked a correlation to Fitzgerald…. Long before I knew a reading of Benjamin Button was looming.

In fact, Ruth Chapman even mentions Gatsby in one of her random tirades to Ben Mercer.

But Benjamin Button is not the flourish of languid flappers, coy mistruths, long cigarettes , gild and alcohol. No excessive ritz here. Instead, it is a bizarre circus of crude happenstance relating to a man who ages backward.

Erm… not really my thing but that distinctively Fitzgeraldian brand of clipped writing ( Scottie wrote by the sentence, or so we are told ) was missing in my life. Can I mention Fitzgerald ( or any other novelist from the Moveable Feast circle of Hemingway, Fitz, Ezra Pound and James Joyce ) without harping on Morley Callaghan? Umm. No.

So consider this my weekly reminder to go read That Summer in Paris .

Post-Benjamin Button, I picked up my jacketless, well-thumbed hardcover of Jake and the Kid: craving a different kind of short story. And THIS dropped out:

The ( unedited )words of Rachel-a-decade-ago. The ghost of my 16 year old self is here to haunt you:

Friday January 30, 1998

I guess, of all my favourite books I should write something 'bout Jake and the Kid. This is nothing short of a charming book. It adds life and pizzaz to these rainy days when nothing but the best will do. W.O. Mitchell is a literary Genius. Read the first story. If you're not hooked by the end of "You Gotta Teeter" then your imagination craves colourfulness and life. This collection of stories (added to the hard-to-find According to Jake and the Kid) makes me extremely proud that my country, Canada, owns W. O. Mitchell. I'm glad I witnessed the grandeur of the prairies these stories boast. I'm glad the RCMP are our landmark. I'm grateful our men sacrificed their perfect lives to fight overseas and I am fascinated by the history Jake expands when nonchalantly story-telling. Everyone of these phenomenal aspects are blended into the main plot about a boy and his rough-edged mentor. Both characters are masterieces and this book amazing. I always desire to embark on the great adventure through our Western Provinces. The small town of Crocus fascinates me.-- as a writer. How can so many amazing things take place in such a small area? How can such descriptions outweigh other classics? These ideas are fresh. There's only so much of foggy London or steamy Paris one can take.

I like to lay other clicheed books aside and travel to Saskatchewan. It is part of my heritage, part of my history, part of my country, and Jake and the Kid is part of me.

Wasn't I cute? Wow! I think I was blogging long before blogs existed. Also, I think I determined the path of my future long before I went into English Lit and publishing.

Trip down memory lane, you were fun!

Onion!

How Did I End Up On The Cover Of This Romance Novel?

By Duncan Larksthrush
December 13, 2006 | Issue 42•50

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Last week at the supermarket, while shopping for my weekly supply of three dozen eggs and 12 pounds of mutton, I spotted a rack near the checkout lane containing several romance paperbacks. Normally, such trash wouldn't get a second glance from my coal-black eyes, but the sight of one book practically made my chiseled jaw drop. There, on the cover of Dark Passions was yours truly, Duncan Larksthrush, in the flesh.

At first I thought it must have been a coincidence. There must be thousands of men with huge, glistening pectorals and shoulder-length golden hair whose steadfast gaze betrays immeasurable fathoms of passion.

But there can be no doubt it was me. The cover artist must have followed me during a recent visit to my ancestral estate on the tempest-swept promontories of Northern Scotland. Judging from the picture, the sketch was based on the occasion in which I chanced upon Arden, the crofter's nubile young daughter, kneeling upon a rocky outcropping and picking some wildflowers from the weathered stone. Even though I had only just finished tilling seven acres of firm earth, I knew at once my broad, thewy arms could take her. "You rogue! I shall not allow this offense against my honor!" she cried out, her titian hair uncoiling in the Caledonian wind. As I dipped her low, her pounding heart betrayed her pleas for her chastity, and my turgid manhood would be denied no longer.

That bastard must have been hiding with a sketchbook in the bushes.

You can understand my smoldering rage. I certainly don't recall agreeing to have my well-hewn physique splashed across every newsstand and bookrack in town. Admittedly, my schedule has been full lately—I purchased a new leather arm cuff, reclined on an empty beach in my tattered sheepskin boots and full riding gear, waxed and re-oiled my chest—however, posing for the cover painting of Dark Passions definitely was not on my list. But apparently, a rugged, flat-stomached man's privacy means little to author Stephanie Blackmoore when it comes to the pursuit of profit.

I just hope no one I know sees it. The other blacksmiths would never let me live this down.

Nor can I imagine what would possess someone to depict such a scene. I was certainly far from respectably kempt: Having just finished reaping oats with my scythe, my white, blousy tunic was dirty and tattered. It was practically torn from my shoulders, and the striated muscles of my bronzed torso were exposed for anyone to see. And my errant tresses had slipped out of their leathern knot and clove to my cheek with the dewy sweat of a full day's labor. Blazes! Had I known I would be fronting a bestseller, I would have taken a shower and put on my nice red shirt, and maybe a tie.

I never asked for this. The life I chose to lead is one of solitude, whether I'm building log cabins in the foggy Ozarks, or tending to my vineyards in the Tuscan countryside. But those blissful days of rugged independence seem to be over. Will I ever again be able to collapse wounded into the arms of a busty field nurse during my town's annual Civil War reenactment without becoming the poster boy for the next vulgar potboiler?

Can't a brawny, brooding man ride his stallion slowly through the fresh-smelling air of a misty forest at dawn and think ruefully back to his tender childhood that seems to him now to exist in another world entirely—without having to constantly look over his perfectly sculpted shoulders?

No, this is no way for a free and unfettered man with a small fortune inherited from a distant noble relative to live. Therefore, I have decided to weigh anchor and set sail with my crew of strapping young seamen aboard my sloop, The Moonlight Arrow, toward destinations exotic and unknown. Once at sea, as the suzerain's daughter I have shanghaied from our last port-of-call clings hungrily to my abdomen, her honeyed breath playing about my breast, I will gaze stoically at the horizon from the prow of my ship, where none of those frauds at Harlequin/Silhouette would ever care to find me.



http://www.theonion.com/content/

the post that was supposed to be about The Landing

I was supposed to write about the Landing. But, I left the review on my work computer and my work computer....erm...at work.


So, instead I have decided to write about Charles Finch. I love Charles Finch. He has a nice face. And, most importantly and ever less superficially, the books ARE fantastic, chock full of plaintive verisimilitude and boasting beautiful titles.

Also, to the point of Literary Alter Egos, we can muse on Charles Finch naming his hero Charles Lenox. That should be fun ...'specially because the second installment finds our hero in Oxford: Charles Finch's old stomping ground ( I say "old" with a grain of salt because we are 'bout the same age ). Now, a real review ( because I do like to do things properly and not lackadaisically: hence this blog's sporadic tendencies to wane to and fro ) requires me dipping back into A Beautiful Blue Death and The September Society. Followed by extravagant praise and then a melange of anecdotes on the British detective front---obviously including the darling little mystery store in New York City ( Greenwich Village to be precise ) that editor Otahyoni and I pillaged on our vacation there this past summer ----and obviously a foray into Will Thomas
( because I really do like him and The Black Hand was more than decent!) and maybe a dash of that Rhys Bowen, Her Royal Spyness which was the best of froth and Deanna Raybourn's Silent as the Grave which was also the best of froth ......

and then, being in the frame of murderous mind, I would probably talk about the gorgeous new covers bestowed upon those Nero Wolfe omnibuses.

Then I would talk about Archie Goodwin.

Then I would muse on my favourite fictional characters. Leading to Alatriste, perchance, and then to The Painter of Battles ( on the Perez-Reverte front)

oh cursed stream-of-consciousness--- I would come full circle back to YA fiction and to Horatio Lyle and....


what's the point?


I have none of this planned out.


Oh blog-in-embryo, you doth fail me.

Oh well! Do you all have some titles to write down in your notebooks?

and Lawrence Hill and David Adams Richards... oh my!

CANADA READS

courtney takes on "Megiddo"

Erm... I'm tired tonight and it is snushing ( snowing and slushing at the same time=snush).



So, I will wait until tomorrow to write my review of John Ibbotson's GG winner "The Landing"

and send you over to Courtney's to read about Megiddo's Shadow.


Because, seriously, who doesn't want to read another glowing review?

I saved a life

University Avenue
5:30 pm.
First snowfall of the winter.

Toronto somehow forgets there will be snow every year and that we live in Canada so it is always a mind-numbingly dumb production.

Women wearing stiletto-boots and sliding down Yonge Street; no car in its right mind remembering how to signal at King West; streetcars screeching to an icy halt, passengers running amuck out of the offices at Bay with briefcases o'er top their heads like umbrellas and fighting over cabs.


( I had proper footwear and always think it is a little pretty and Christmas-y, what with Dundas Square being lit up like a Christmas tree of luminiscent dazzle).



I stomp around in my less-than-aesthetic but wholly practical boots and come across a young man in toque just outside the Four Seasons Centre at Osgoode Hall, nose stuck in a book.


I will never say a nay to the nose stuck in the book, thing. Howe'er, it was rather silly last night what with the snow throwing people into dervishs of insanity and it was not the ideal circumstance for read read engrossingly read read followed by the rhythmic blowing of snow of off his book page.


He lagged behind me a bit til we neared Sick Kids hospital and the slope to Queen's Park.


I skidded to avoid a near-changing traffic light accosted by stupid, non-signalling, speeding Torontonian drivers, but fair reader failed to note, and stepped out into the mayhem.

I grabbed his arm instinctively and pulled him back.

He looked up. Thanked me.

I just asked him to tell me what book he was so into.

First Rumpole Omnibus by John Mortimer.

to which, I smiled: " That's a good way to go!"

dear Exile editions

You know I love you, Exile editions. Do you know why I love you? Because you basically survive by publishing the works of two authors:

a.) Morley Callaghan b.) Barry Callaghan ( who founded you )


Do you know why I love you even more? Because you are now publishing Exile classics ! I will list to you what these classics will be:

That Summer in Paris by Morley Callaghan
The New Yorker Stories by Morley Callaghan
More Joy in Heaven by Morley Callaghan
Such is My Beloved by Morley Callaghan
Luke Baldwin's Vow by Morley Callaghan
the Loved and the Lost by Morley Callaghan

and maybe something by Mavis Gallant.

Reginald Hill interview ( aka he shares my love of Dickens )

I found this interview with the consommate detective novelist, creator of Dalziel and Pascoe and an all-time favourite, the glorious Reginald Hill. I thought it was hilarious in his acerbic, curmudgeon way.

NOTE: What he says about Dickens and Christmas cards? ... same here!

Book Brahmin: Reginald Hill

"I was born on the third of April 1936 in Hartlepool, U.K. I cried a bit, then fell asleep, and awoke to find myself completing this questionnaire."

But Reginald Hill must have had a few other waking moments, since he's written umpty-some very popular books, particularly his Dalziel and Pascoe mysteries, the latest of which, The Price of Butcher's Meat, was published this past Tuesday by Harper.

On your nightstand now:Upstairs, Making Money by Terry Pratchett (one of the great comic writers); downstairs, The Aeneid translated by Robert Fagles (who sadly died earlier this year but will not be forgotten. I thought his translation of Homer was a masterwork and he hasn't disappointed with his treatment of Virgil), Shakespeare by Bill Bryson (nothing new here, except of course the Bryson humour and readability that has made him such a favourite on this side of the pond at least).

Favorite book when you were a child:Just William (and all its successors) by Richmal Crompton.

Your top five authors:Dickens, Austen, George Eliot, Terry Pratchett, P.G.Wodehouse.

Book you've faked reading:In my younger days I did a bit of faking with stuff like Finnegans Wake, but once I grew up and began to realize no one really gives a damn what I think about a book (or a play or a movie or a pork pie for that matter), faking seemed pointless. Now if I don't like a book after 50 pages, I hurl it aside with great force, but, unless provoked, I try not to elevate my personal taste into a critical position.


Book you're an evangelist for:In a dimly remembered previous existence when I was a teacher, I recall the shock of discovering that for every student who responded to my enthusiasm for any book, poem or play, there'd be at least two who made it clear they thought it was crap. Maybe a better teacher would have done better, but while I will say boldly that I loved, for instance, Cloud Atlas or The Book Thief or The Lord of the Rings, I will not evangelize. (Though anyone who is indifferent to Dickens is immediately expunged from my Christmas card list.)

Book you've bought for the cover:The first Harry Potter paperback, but only because there was also on offer a version with a dull anonymous cover so that sensitive adults didn't have to reveal they were reading a kids' book on the train! That struck me as really sad, so I bought the original and flourished it for all to marvel at my childishness on the way home. Didn't enjoy it all that much though, but who am I to disagree with x million readers across the whole age range?


Book that changed your life:Tess of the D'Urbervilles, not because it turned me into a crusader for the rights of fallen women or anything like that but because when I first read it, at age 15 or so, for the first time I really got it that these great classics also happened to be marvelous reads, giving me the same kind of pleasure plus maybe a bit more as my contemporary reading.

Favorite line from a book:"It was the best of times: it was the worst of times."Another of those books which made me realize that great thrillers didn't start with Dashiell Hammett. I still get a kick out of that opening.


Book you most want to read again for the first time:None really. The books I love re-reading are those that give me something new every time I return to them. Dickens of course, Austen, Eliot, but I see I'm repeating my list of favourites!