Season of the Dragonflies by Sarah Creech

Lucia has had no intention of being a part of the family perfume business.  She has never been a natural at mixing scents the way her sister, Mya, was, nor has she had the confidence in dealing with clients as her mother had.  But when she finds herself mourning both failed marriage and dead acting career, she has no choice but to return home.  Upon arriving there, however, she finds that her mother and sister have created a situation that could threaten their business forever, and it may be up to Lucia to intervene.

This story definitely has charm and a sort of lyrical lightness to it, which was a great diversion from what is happening around us at this moment of coronavirus.  The characters are amusing and pretty, albeit a bit monochromatic, but they do hold our hands through the ride of the plot. And the plot, while it brings us through some fantastical elements (which are never my favorite, I admit), is engaging.

But now it’s time for me to ramble…  I guess I just wonder why so many authors feel compelled to wrap up their characters in a neat bow before sending them all off into the sunset for the grande finale, when that is not necessarily how life happens.  I understand this is fiction, and we’d all love to think that we can make life be that way.  And maybe fiction is the only place where life is that way.  But can’t we be ok with how life really is?  Can’t we be ok with people not being perfect?  Can’t we be ok with the problems not necessarily being resolved, even though it’s hard?  I would think that we’re more evolved than that.

I’m not saying I like books unfinished, but I think that ensuring that everyone is tucked in and sated is not necessary either.  It’s too neat.

OK, I’ll get off my soapbox now, and leave you all alone now.  Sorry!

Maybe this pandemic is taking its toll and making me more ornery than I thought.

I hope you’re all hanging in there and staying 6 feet away from others, wearing your masks (even though our schmuck of a president won’t wear his!), washing your hands and staying healthy.  And I wish medical and economic recovery for all of us as soon as possible.

The Dutch House by Ann Patchett

Outside and across from the Dutch House is where Danny and his sister, Maeve, sit together regularly to digest their past.  It is almost as if going back to the scene of their childhood trauma might relieve them of them of the anger they harbor, of the resentment they feel.  Toward the mother who fled from them, and toward the stepmother who never let them near.  But if anything, it probably does more to perpetuate the ire.  But maybe that is what they are holding onto.  Maybe that is what is holding them together.  Maybe that is all that is holding them together…

I really liked this book and am struggling to write about it.  I feel like I need a bookclub meeting or an English class discussion to fully digest the symbolism packed into the pages of this story.  I’m not sure I’m wise enough to recognize and/or articulate it all myself.

The Dutch House seems to represent something different to each of the characters.  We see how Danny, like his father, has a passion for buildings —  the bones, the design — and Danny, like his father loves the Dutch House, and all its architectural splendor.  And it is home, such as it was for him.  His mother, like his sister, Maeve, see it only for its ostentatious gaudiness.  They shun it and flee it.  And when Andrea, the stepmother, enters the scene, with her pure avarice, she sees it only for the status it will bring to her and her daughters.  But does it bring happiness to any of the characters?

There are moments of awkward writing in this book, such as with the rapid shifting of time, when Danny and Maeve are sitting in Maeve’s car, at the Dutch House, later in life, reminiscing about their earlier days.  We find them there at sudden moments in the middle of the story and have to time travel with the author back and forth.  Sometimes it keeps the plot moving, but sometimes it is confusing.  Aside from these moments, though, the writing is engaging and the characters are colorful, sometimes raw,  and authentic.

I highly recommend this book, The Dutch House.  It will hold your attention long after you’ve finished the physical pages.

The Keeper of Lost Things by Ruth Hogan

Feeling deflated by a failed marriage, Laura finds refuge in her new position — assistant to a very kind, older gentleman, the author, Anthony Peardew.  As they work together in his tastefully opulent home, she gradually comes to learn about his history, his heartbreak, and the secrets that have been kept hidden for many years.  When he dies and leaves his estate to her, he also leaves the legacy of his secrets to be reconciled by her, as his final gift.

This is a sweet story.  The characters are endearing and there are multiple threads that entwine to keep the plot loping forward. It is engaging and imaginative in many ways.

On the other hand, one can argue that once again, we are reading about a woman being rescued by a man.  Laura’s life has been ruined by one man, and she is paralyzed; her only savior comes in the form of another man, her generous boss.  Moreover, she cannot be fully complete nor can the mystery of the secret of the estate be resolved until she is married to yet another man.  Really?

Will we never get beyond our Prince Charming fixation?

That said, the book is light and amusing and, like all good fairy tales, has a happily-ever-after ending that wraps it all up in a neat bow for the reader.

If that is for you – go for it!

 

 

An Undisturbed Peace by Mary Glickman

Abraham has come from England in the early years of American settlement to work with his uncle who has sponsored his transport  He is surprised by the reception he receives:  he is thrown into the barren barracks with the other poor, desperate workers and sent to peddle the wares of the business to surrounding folks, to the best of his ability.  Abe, as he comes to be known, begins his journey as a traveling peddler by landing surreptitiously in the home of a stunning, fiercely independent, Cherokee woman.  She takes him in briefly, cares for him, and although amused by him, does not return his sudden, youthful passion.  As he seeks to reconcile this woman’s past and discover where her heart truly lies, he grows to understand not only himself,  but the complex stratification of the society he sees growing around him.

My first impression of this story was actually incredulity – that a story was being written about a Jewish man falling in love with a Cherokee woman hundreds of years ago in this country.  It just sounded to me an unlikely scenario, given the insular world of the Jews at that time.  As I read further, what I came to appreciate was that it was a clever vehicle through which to describe the era of the Trail of Tears.  This dark period in our American past is when President Andrew Jackson authorized the displacement of thousands of indigenous people from their land and moved them in caravans westward.  This atrocity  was committed under perilous conditions, and thousands of Native Americans perished because of disease, starvation, unwieldy weather conditions and a lack of adequate provisions from the American government.   In telling this story through the eyes of Abe, a Jew and an outsider trying to find where he fit in among the various strata of peoples, there is often a delineation of the pecking order and a redefining of that pecking order as Abe continues to struggle with it.  Where do the slaves of the Cherokees fit in?  Where do the slaves of the Whites fit in?  Where does he fit in relative to them all?  As he is sorting this all out, we see how the groundwork of all of it is being sorted out for future generations – and how some sought to fight against it but, sadly, lost.

So, at first glance, I wasn’t sure about this book, but as I continued through it, it gained more and more value to me and I appreciate it for its very powerful messaging.  I feel it educated me and gave me insight into this bleak blot on our American past.

 

 

 

At Risk by Alice Hoffman

at risk

Polly and Ivan are concerned about their daughter, Amanda.  She’s a gymnast and has an unusual diarrheal illness for the past couple of weeks.  Their pediatrician, who knows them well, can deduce that this is not a good sign and from her low white blood cell count he is extremely worried about the possibility of cancer.  But not in a million years is he expecting that she’d be positive for AIDS, having contracted it from a blood transfusion after a complicated surgery for appendicitis 5 years prior, before blood was screened for the virus.  The paranoia and alienation that the whole family experiences is unexpected and devastating, possibly even worse than the actual diagnosis.

This book, published in 1988, reminds us of the experience that so many went through when HIV first appeared in the 1980’s.  With ads on TV for HIV medications so commonplace and ordinary today, it’s hard to remember that not so long ago, there was mass victimization of those who were infected with the virus.  Children infected via intrauterine transmission or from blood transfusions were sometimes not allowed in school because of fears of casual contact transmitting the virus to others, even when there was early evidence that this was not possible.  Millions of infected adults suffered not only from the disease but from the indignities of being ostracized from a society who rejected them because of their disease.  And we have still not cured it.  [The reason for this has probably more to do with financial incentive than the science – it is more beneficial for pharmaceutical companies to produce medications that sustain patients with the disease than to cure it.  Just as with cancer. But I digress…]

As for the book, I found the story compelling, but the writing a bit awkward.  It is told in the present tense, which I often dislike.  More importantly, though, the narration also shifts from one character to another almost as if they are passing a hot potato from one to another, to another.   This shift occurs so frequently and over so many characters that it dilutes and distracts from the actual plot and it is harder to become attached to the truly important players.   We just can’t feel that sorry for everyone.  So while the story is tragic, it does not cut quite as deeply as it might.

Nevertheless, At Risk is a timepiece and tells a part of the story of our bitter history of the HIV epidemic that is important to remember.  We think of HIV as a disease of adults only, but there were thousands of children affected by the disease as well.  And still are today.

Still Me by Jojo Moyes

Louisa is taking the plunge – she is reinventing herself, moving to NYC, starting a job as a personal assistant to a Fifth Avenue society wife.  It may seem daunting at first, but she will do this.  She will overcome her tiny room and her ugly uniform.  She will adjust to her insecure and capricious boss and the dysfunctional family who now employs her.  And surely everything will be ok when Sam, her paramedic boyfriend from back home in England, comes to visit – won’t it?  Louisa is determined to make this work – although it may cost her more than she ever imagined it would.

This third in the Me Before You trilogy is a book that I believe is most valued for its lovely characters.  While the plot may be a bit predictable and a little cliche, the characters feel like your comfortable old slippers that you’ve just found behind the dust bunnies under your bed.  Louisa is caring and honest to the bone.  When she returns home to her quirky and loving family, it feels like we are all coming home.   And when she’s with Sam, even when things are not going so well, we feel a tactile electric presence between them even when we know they are fictional characters.  Somehow, with words, Moyes is able to create actual warmth rising up from the pages of this book.  I think that is what I loved about it – the warmth.

So even though it is wrapped up a little too perfectly in its package, it is a sweet, fun read that makes you smile and root for the good folks.

I’d love to know if you agree!

The Girls’ Guide to Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Bank

As a young girl, Jane observes her brother and his girlfriends with a keen eye.  She watches her brother’s casual attitude toward women and sees how they hurt.  Later, Jane embarks on her own journey of relationships and it is no surprise that we accompany her through much growth before she is able to enjoy a healthy, honest, mutual relationship of her own.

This is actually a fun, lighthearted (for the most part), and entertaining read.  Some lines made me actually laugh out loud, because of the clever sarcasm that Jane slings at everyone around her.  Her character is kind and honest to the core, which is refreshing.  She is someone I’d absolutely want to be friends with – so much so, that when the book was finished, I felt I had lost a charming, new friend.

I only wish there had been depth to the story.  Yes we hear about her relationship with her father, which was so tender.   But she is utterly cavalier about her career, in spite of the fact that she is extremely bright and has such potential.  She is also more of a follower than we’d expect of someone with such a strong personality otherwise.  It feels inconsistent.  And disappointing.  But maybe I”m looking for too much or taking her too seriously.

The book, though, definitely served to put a smile on my face and that is worth so much at this moment in our collective experience in 2019.  So if you’re looking for some distraction from all the muck, this is it!

Enjoy!