Let the Circle Be Unbroken

Home to Holly Springs
by Jan Karon

One of my secret guilty pleasures is the Mitford series by Jan Karon. Too quaint, bordering on maudlin, pat plot lines … but, oh, do I love Father Tim, Cynthia, Dooley, and all the animal and human characters that make up life in Mitford. Interestingly, I started the books before I returned to the Church–and even though I was not what I’d call a praying girl at the time, I wasn’t at all put off by Father Tim’s rather sentimental vision of God and life in the church. For goshsakes I even read the prayers Father offered up!

Jan Karon “ended” the Mitford series with Light From Heaven … and shortly after began her new Father Tim series. My guess is that Karon wanted to be free from the confines of Mitford, and Home to Holly Springs takes Father Tim Kavenaugh out of North Carolina and back to his birthplace in Mississippi. Readers of the Mitford series know that Tim had a problematic relationship with his father, and never quite healed from the loss of both his mother and housekeeper Peggy. I suspected (quite rightly) that Karon would use this book to unbury those family secrets.

And reveal she did. The novel was again filled with God-driven “coincidences” and quirky characters, woven together with Father Tim’s childhood memories. Many of those memories were ones faithful readers had heard bits and pieces of before, but were fleshed out to fill in his childhood–and, on the whole, those stories were Karon’s strongest. My biggest disappointment were the secondary characters, of which she probably had more than necessary. Many of them seemed added simply to advance the story–unlike those strong Mitford characters, they were easily skimmed over and forgotten, save two or three. (But that was also my criticism of her later Mitford books as well.)

I read Home in a day and wouldn’t have needed (or wanted) to spend any more time on it. It was satisfying only because it was like having coffee with a long-lost friend. It was also a weepy read–partly Karon’s sentimentality, partly the love between Tim and Cynthia, and partly because I was horribly home-sick for my children. Not nearly as endearing (or enduring, I fear) than those early Mitford books, I will probably still be up for the next book in the series In the Company of Others, if only to spend some more time with Father Tim. .

Just started: Last Guard Out by Jim Albright. Purchased at Alcatraz on my recent trip to San Francisco, it is the account of one of the last guards to serve at “The Rock”.

Reading China

Oracle Bones
by Peter Hessler

This was our August book club read; the 458 pages was intimidating to some, parts I and II were pretty convenient at 218 pages–so we called it good at half a book (although some of us overachievers couldn’t resist reading the entire thing)! And author Peter Hessler provided plenty to talk about in our discussion even at the halfway point.

Beginning in 2002, Hessler spent years  traveling, teaching, and writing in China, living (usually illegally) in Chinese neighborhoods. That advantage gave him the opportunity to befriend locals who gave him rare insight into the lives of middle class Chinese. And so we meet William Jefferson and Nancy Drew (their chosen English names), a pair of Chinese teachers who left their rural village to become “migrants”, traveling to the coast where better lives were to be had in the city–or so they thought. Former students of Hessler, Willy’s warm  letters to him are dear, and reproduced verbatim, replete with misspelled words and raunchy jokes. Willy’s passion for learning and teaching English rival none and he was never without an English dictionary and notebook. By Chinese standards, Willy and Nancy lived comfortable lives; Americans, however, would not be content with the long hours, bleak landscape of the city,  shabby apartment, and low pay. We also meet Polat, an ethnic Uighur, who makes his fortune (and loses it) as a money exchanger, and finally emigrates to the U.S. where he is granted political asylum; a Chinese radio talk show host who gives advice to the lovelorn; and old Mr. Zhao, who fought to save his courtyard hutong from being razed.

Hessler frames his narrative by including chapters he labels as Artifact A, B, C, etc–all cultural and archeological treasures of the Chinese. The reader learns that China, rather than being the monolith we Americans seem to think, is, in fact, a vast region of many cultures and languages. We learn of an ancient city wall being unearthed by peasants spoonful-by-spoonful as it winds its way through farmland, and of the origin of Chinese characters. And, of course, of the oracle bones–really tortoise plastrons etched with questions, fired, and then “read” by diviners. Always a bit slow, it took me about 450 pages to realize the significance of the book’s title. Just as the oracle bones of the past revealed life’s mysteries, Hessler was also reading the cracks of Chinese culture to reveal the world of the Chinese to American readers. How exquisite that the journalist becomes modern-day diviner.

Next up: Miss. Hargreaves by Frank Baker. Published in 1940 this novel’s time space continuum is far beyond its time–so far, a great lark!

Pretty is as pretty does

Pretties
by Scott Westerfeld

I had no intention of reading this entire YA series; to be honest, I only read Scott Westerfeld’s first book, Uglies, because I promised some students I would (see my post from June 15, 2010). But Westerfeld left the reader hanging at the end of Uglies, the publisher cunningly included a five page teaser to Pretties at the end … and I was hooked.

Readers of Uglies will not be disappointed. Definitely geared for young adult readers (and probably girls, at that), the novel continues to explore our culture’s preoccupation with physical beauty. Tally Youngblood and her friend Shay have finally become pretty. As the novel opens, Shay, in fact, has just “surged” again, and now has twelve tiny rubies implanted around her iris’. The girls’ lives center around a series of over-the-top parties and dances … and then recovering from hangovers the next day.

[spoiler alert]

Pretties, however, addresses some intriguing subtleties of this future world. While it is true that pretty “beauty” is fairly standardized (large eyes, full lips, unblemished skin, long limbs), we also learn that new pretty muscles are strong and pretties rarely become sick; most injuries can be quickly and easily
repaired. Pretties organize themselves into cliques–the Crims, the Hot-airs, the Cutters–something every teen can relate to. And maybe most intriguing, the idea of being “bubbly”–that adreneline rush or exhileration that comes with taking  risks or pushing boundaries.And in an interesting twist, we discover that this world of pacifists studies violent behavior by holding a group of pre-Rusties on a reservation.

Readers of Uglies know that Tally undergoes her pretty surgery knowing that the accompanying brain lesions will leave her vacuous and inane–and also knowing that she would be smuggled a cure from an ugly doctor. When Tally and her boyfriend Zane find the cure after a wild hunt, Tally decides she will divide the pills between them–to disastrous results. Most of the novel follows Tally in yet another escape to the Smoke. And once again the novel ends with a cliffhanger.

Young adult readers will appreciate Westerfeld’s frank treatment of sex, alcohol, and rebellion. Parents can rest assured, however, that the author does not titallate–while we know Tally sleeps with her boyfriend, there is no mention of having sex; hangovers are just as miserable in Pretty Town as they are in our world; and rebellion takes the form of outrageous pranks, as opposed to any bitter hatred of adults.

A little bit Harry Potter (think Harry’s Nimbus and Tally’s hoverboard), with a dash of Star Trek (think body scans and protoplasers), add some teen angst, and you’ve got Pretties. Now … on to Specials, third in the series!

Next up: Oracle Bones by Peter Hessler, August’s Chicks on Books read.

The End

Finn
by Jon Clinch

[spoiler warning]

Eight months after putting Finn aside I took the novel up again and finally finished this dark and incredibly creative novel. Jon Clinch tells the back story of Pap Finn, following faithfully much of  Mark Twain’s narrative in Huckleberry Finn: we see Judge Thatcher, Widow Douglas, the Preacher. Interestingly, Huck is but a shadow in this story. Finn’s family is wealthy, staid, and racist in the manner of the South during the 1860s. Throughout the novel Finn is simultaneiously drawn to and repulsed by a former slave, Mary. Finn’s self-hatred takes the form of vicious abuse; Finn’s father is a judge who disowns Finn for taking up with Mary.

True to my earlier post on November 2, 2009, the novel continued in a raw and brutal manner.The novel opens with a gruesome scene: a black and bloated corpse floats down the Mississippi, covered in blowflies. This image will continue to haunt the novel and, in bits and pieces we learn  that Finn has murdered and flayed the woman in an effort to rid himself of what he sees as his essential weakness–miscegenation. In a complicated twist on Twain’s work, Mary is Huck’s mother. Huck Finn is black.

In his author’s note, Clinch references an scholarly work by Shirley Fisher Fishkin, “Was Huck Black?”. Fishkin’s premise is based largely on Huck’s dialect, which was more black vernacular than Southern white, and the fact that Huck seemed to be based on one or two black children Twain knew. While audacious, the re-reading of Twain’s work made this novel compelling.

But Finn’s rationalization of his murder of Mary, the encroaching insanity of his alcoholic delirriums, his participation in the brutal rape of a young black boy, and his imprisonment of Huck are written almost poetically, only adding to the the novel’s horror. Here is Clinch after Finn begins his dismemberment of Mary: “Fastidious in his methods, he arranges each portion upside down or inside out, its inner surface made outer to show red and slick and fibrous but never allowed to reveal the dark curse of its hidden face. He arranges the pieces thus to speak of death and death only … as if by such transformation he can alter all that has gone before and begin anew, clean and pure and washed in the indiscriminate blood.”  Finn–homeless, dirt poor, abusive, alcoholic–seems to have no trace of humanity left. Yet it is Judge Finn–respected, educated, wealthy–who chills the reader perhaps even more. For in facing his mortality, the aging Judge Finn summons his son with one last request–that Finn murder “The creature. The child. The boy” because “I cannot tolerate my blood passing through mulatto veins … I am relying on you to end the life of that bastard creature. And bring me evidence.” The Judge’s blood runs cold in Pap’s veins.

Some sort of justice (or perhaps it’s just more violence) is meted out at the novel’s end–another black woman ties Pap to the rape of her son and kills him in his sleep … with the same knife that flayed Huck’s mother. Inventive and audacious–difficult to read–but in the end, Finn is well worth the effort.

Heat Lightening

The Color of Lightening
by Paulette Jiles

I’ve heard that there really is no such thing as heat lightening–but when I was little, those flashes that lit up the night sky with no thunder, no discernible bolt of lightening, and usually when the weather was hot and humid, we called “heat lightening”. Paulette Jiles novel The Color of Lightening is a little like that. The novel flashed with insight and beauty, a powerful story … but in the end, lacked thunder  and so it fizzled out quietly. 


The Color of Lightening is the story of Britt Johnson, a freed black man, who emigrates from Kentucky to Texas Territory to carve out a new life for himself and his family. We get to know their family very little before the event around which the novel turns: the capture of his wife, Mary, and children Cherry and Jube, by a raiding band of Kiowa Indians. Jiles tells us the story through a prism. The reader sees Mary and the children as captives; Britt, as he races to find them and negotiate their release; and Samuel Hammond, a Quaker sent from the Indian Bureau to “manage” both the Native people and the white settlers.  Taken also in the raid were the Johnson’s white neighbor, Elizabeth Fitzgerald and her two granddaughters, for whom Britt returns.


[spoiler alert]

Jiles’ narrative is perhaps strongest when she writes about the captives Mary, Elizabeth, and the children. Some of the young captives were adopted and treated with great tenderness. Childless wives often took the youngest prisoners in as their own children. The older women were used as slaves; some even took Native husbands. Mary Johnson was savagely raped and beaten at the beginning of her capture, and she lost the ability to speak clearly. Mary works alongside the wife of her captor and waits with longing for what she is sure will be her rescue at Britt’s hands. Jube Johnson, almost ten, comes to relish the life of the Kiowa; children have incredible freedom, young boys are taught early on the skills of a warrior, and were even at a young age waited on by women. It is Jube, perhaps, who has the most trouble returning home–in fact, he initially refuses to go home with his family.


In introducing the character of Samuel Hammond, Jiles is able to investigate the ideas of non-violence in the face of violence, cultural arrogance, and personal freedom. Hammond, a Quaker, comes to doubt his belief in non-violence and cannot reconcile what he feels are his rational offers with the Indian’s rejection of them. Samuel also learns of white captives who will not return to their families after years with the Indians, and of returned captives who mourn the loss of their Indian way of life. While Samuel’s story is secondary, it could have been stronger;
 he sometimes seems to be a vehicle to speak for the author’s own beliefs.


I raced through the novel initially–Jiles’ tale was compelling and she wove the stories together seamlessly. However, by the last quarter of the book, the story’s pace merely plodded along. And the last fifty pages read more like a history text–all event, no narrative. It was almost as if Jiles needed to make the book much longer (so she could continue her storytelling all the way to the end) or much shorter (so she could end on a powerful note).  Sadly, I seem to remember feeling the same with Jiles’ earlier book Enemy Women–also a fantastic story that just faded away.  That’s not to say the novel isn’t worth reading–it is–but any reader who is a plot fanatic should be forewarned.