To the lake: Crow Lake (review)


Crow Lake
by Mary Lawson

I started reading Crow Lake the Friday before school started and put it down reluctantly after only a few chapters–and, of course, the busyness of the new year kept it lying on my dresser for the past five days. With B. gone all day, I was able to take it up again–and couldn’t stop.

The hinted-at Greek tragedy wasn’t as monumental as I would have thought–although, I suppose, that just may have been Lawson’s point. Kate Morrison took her brother’s fate to a realm that was more her fantasy than his reality, and so what she leads us to believe is a tragic fate is simply … life happening. Lest I sound glib about orphaned children, an unplanned pregnancy, murder, and a university education left behind, the “life happening” was difficult. But difficult in the way that our lives are messy, complicated, and often fall short of our expectations.

What I found most disturbing was Kate’s emotional vacuum–until I realized that I’ve done the same when living through a crisis. In fact, I would be hard-pressed to recall my own emotional life during those years of single-parenthood. Most compelling was Kate’s realization that the family history she had created was more fiction than fact–based on the life she had wanted them all to live, on the people she had wanted them to be. That’s probably the single-most important lesson I’ve learned in the past several years–that love is much easier (and rich and satisfying) when you love the person who IS, not the person you think you want them to be.

Crow Lake is a good read–and Lawson’s insight is spot on.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy


Murder at the Watergate
by Margaret Truman

I may be the last reader on earth to try one of Margaret Truman’s Washington “Murder at …” series. A colleague who moved on to another job left it in a crate of books for me to use at school, and I snagged it at the end of the summer while setting up my room. Murder at the Watergate was a surprise–light, breezy and entertaining. Truman shamelessly “place drops” (rather than name drops), so it’s a perfect fit for a news addict like me. I read it over Labor Day and it was a fun cap on my summer reading. I’ve long been a Grisham fan for light reading, but have been disappointed in some of his more recent law books. (Does anyone else think he’s lost his knack for an ending with a twist?) I think when I need fluff, I just might move through some of Truman’s other Murder at … titles.

Detritus


The Photograph
by Penelope Lively

So while the piles of papers hooked me, I’ve not read a book since Olive Kitteridge where the main characters are so very unlikeable. Elaine is a driven, hardened woman–really such a cliche–while her husband is a feckless ne’er do well who rides on her coattails (another cliche!). TV historian Glyn is really Elaine’s counterpoint, and all the while, Kath (we were to assume she was the shallow character) was the lost, misunderstood soul whose gorgeous exterior hid a bleak interior life. Because of the cliches (perhaps) I really didn’t feel compelled to read pell mell, which was sad, considering the summer is ending and reading time will become dear; rather, I soldiered on and finally finished.

But those piles of papers slipping and sliding out of the landing cupboard did keep me going. Glyn’s pursuit of the truth (one, mind you, that he didn’t care to find while his wife was living) was manic–and I thought of dad’s tortured retelling of his early years. He, too, was manic–and also skewed, I’m guessing, every nuance he found in the photos. Glyn did the same, perhaps hoping to find himself the sympathetic one after living years of self-absorption. Hmmmm. Sounds disturbingly similar to dad’s account–and perhaps for the same reason.

Sidenote: Isn’t “detritus” one of the best words in the world? I just love it!

Missing

This month’s Wired had an intriguing article about individuals who have decided to simply vanish–burdened by the mess they’ve made of their life, usually either relationships or illegal business dealings.(Check out “Gone” by Evan Ratliff; Sept. 09) Seems that none of the folks ever really vanished–that, now matter how airtight they thought their plan, they tripped themselves up somehow when they relaxed their guard. Ratliff is even trying to see if he can disappear for 30 days–$5000 if anyone finds him!

Of course Ratliff mentioned Huck Finn and Great Gatsby, both literary characters who sought to make their lives over. Curious also is the fact that the vanishing acts featured in Wired are all men. I wonder how many novels have been written about these kind of vanishing acts? I can think only of Ann Tyler’s Ladder of Years where Delia walks off the beach, down the road, and onto a new life. Any others?

Lively redux

The Photograph by Penelope Lively

I’m pretty certain that Lively is one of my favorite contemporary writers. I first met her in Moon Tiger when I worked at the bookstore–this is the book that I warned a customer included incest, but “good incest”! Sheesh, what was I thinking?! I think more than anything, it is Lively’s style that I appreciate so–and would emulate if I could. That, and the British-isms that are so delicious.

“He tugs at a file to improve his view of what lies beyond and, sure enough, there is a landslide. Exasperated, her gets down on hands and knees to shovel up this mess, and suddenly there is Kath.
A brown foolscap-size wallet file, with her loopy scrawl across the flap: Keep!
… What is she doing her, in the middle of all this stuff that has nothing to do with her?” (2)

Only a couple dozen pages in, I am already intrigued. Glyn, searching for papers he needs to write an academic paper, comes across an envelope that contains (big surprise) a photograph. The photograph–also labeled DON’T OPEN–DESTROY seems to indicate his deceased wife may have had an affair. With her brother-in-law, no less.

We’ll see how this all plays out. The piles of papers is what hooked me–