Outside A Dog

Having adored her earlier novel, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan [which was given to me by my dear Rachael], I was pretty eager to pick up Peony In Love by Lisa See. Peony is the coddled daughter of a wealthy seventeenth-century Hangzhou family, and shortly before her arranged marriage, she sneaks off to meet a handsome stranger who awakens in her strange, new emotions. Her love for this man and her obsession with an opera called The Peony Pavilion drastically change her life’s course. Peony comes to find herself in the afterworld, where she struggles to find her place and attempts to influence the lives of the people she loves, using the commentary she writes about The Peony Pavilion as a means of continuing to demonstrate that love. Over time — we’re talking years, here — Peony is able to learn from her mistakes and others around her and reflect upon and understand the many different kinds of love.

When I finished this fantastic story, I was amazed to find out how much of it was based on actual events. Lisa See did extensive research into the history of women’s writings in China in the mid-seventeenth century, and in her research, she came across The Three Wives’ Commentary, “the first book of its kind to have been published anywhere in the world to have been written by women” (author’s note, pg. 275). As she discovered more about the commentary and the opera it discusses, as well as the women who were impacted by them both, a story was born.

Peony’s story is absorbing, and contains a wealth of information about China’s cultural and historical past — for example: those pretty zig zag bridges (like this one)? There’s a functional meaning behind them. See’s characters and descriptions are vibrant and beautiful, and this book is easily one of my new favorites, even though I did spend the last couple of chapters in tears.

Finally getting around to finishing up my January-based stuff. Must be that procrastination gene rearing its ugly head.

So, here’s the book pile:

Even with all of those books that I read — the ones on the smaller pile in the front — it doesn’t look like the main stack is any smaller.

That’s because it isn’t.

That’s because books are my weakness, and sites like BookMooch and PaperBack Swap are nothing but dirty enablers. I may have read thirteen books this month, but fourteen came into my house. One [Strangers In the Land of Egypt] came from LibraryThing and their Early Reviewers program, four from BookMooch, and nine from PaperBack Swap. [Though I've already read three-and-a-half of the PaperBack Swap books, so that has to count for something.] But more coming in than getting read / going out isn’t exactly the point, so I’m still going to have to work on my restraint a bit. Oh, and two of the books that I read [Child 44 and Dead Until Dark] weren’t even mine.

So. Thirteen books this month, and seven worth keeping [the bold ones]. The rest are being given to friends or released on BookMooch:

• The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
• An Assembly Such as This: A Novel of Fitzwilliam Darcy, Gentleman by Pamela Aidan
• Child 44 by Tom Rob Smith
• Wild Animals I Have Known by Ernest Thompson Seton
• Strangers in the Land of Egypt by Stephen March
• Julie and Julia by Julie Powell
• The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien
• Bitter Sweets by Roopa Farooki
• Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris
• If I Am Missing Or Dead: A Sister’s Story of Love, Murder and Liberation by Janine Latus
• Remainder by Tom McCarthy
• Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris
• Promise Not to Tell by Jennifer McMahon

So, here’s to a more productive February!

Woo! Last book for January is Promise Not To Tell by Jennifer McMahon. Kate Cypher narrates this ghost story set in two whens: in 1971, Kate’s best friend in fifth grade is murdered, and in 2002 — on the night Kate returns to her hometown after years away — another young girl is killed in much the same manner. Suspicion swirls around Kate, and she must revisit her past and the role she played in her friend’s death in order to untangle the more recent events and help catch the killer.

While a few of the characters felt pretty flat, this story had a couple of pretty good twists to it — enough to keep me guessing up until the last chapter or two, when all is revealed. The dual timeline device worked surprisingly well, and the story was involving enough to keep me occupied for an evening. I was impressed by how well McMahon was able to capture Kate, her best friend Del, and their classmates in this book. While the children were incredibly cruel at times, it’s a fairly good look at that awkward trying-to-fit-in phase that a lot of kids go through. Overall, Promise Not To Tell isn’t one of the best mystery / suspense novels out there, but it’s far from the worst.

Oh, and I tried to read Succubus In The City by Nina Harper, and my advice to you is this: don’t do it! Not unless you’re into designer name-dropping in every other sentence, NYC native snobbery and vapid, catty characters. Harper seems to be going for “Sex and the City” with a weird demonic twist, but it just comes off as obnoxious.

After about 70 pages, I rolled my eyes in disgust and gave up, but I think the basic premise is this: Lily is an immortal sex demon whose job it is to lure men into cavorting with her, and when they do, they combust. But then some private investigator — the well-dressed romantic interest-to-be, I’m sure — shows up and throws off her groove. That’s about as far as the plot advanced, because much of the first seventy pages are filled with commentary on so-and-so’s Jimmy Choos or someone else’s Armani suit.

I’ll admit that I enjoy the occasional fluffy chick lit, but this book doesn’t feel like it has any substance at all. The enormous bosom on the book’s cover should have been more of a warning sign.

I’ve been meaning to read something by David Sedaris for ages — at least since my freshman year of college, and that was… yikes, eight years ago? (And now you can see exactly how far on my to-read list that I actually am.) I finally started in on Me Talk Pretty One Day and gobbled it up.

Each chapter in the book is its own story (I’m tempted to call them vignettes, but I’m not sure as to the accuracy of the term), and the first half of the book focuses mainly on Sedaris’s formative and college years. In the opening story, Sedaris relates his experience with speech therapy in fifth grade. Having been diagnosed with a ‘lazy tongue’ by his speech therapist, he begins a mission to avoid the letter S whenever possible.

“‘Yes,’ became ‘correct’, or a military ‘affirmative.’ ‘Please’ became ‘with your kind permission,’ and questions were pleaded rather than asked. After a few weeks of what she called ‘endless pestering’ and what I called ‘repeated badgering,’ my mother bought my a pocket thesaurus, which provided me with s-free alternatives to just about everything. I consulted the book both at home in my room and at the daily learning academy other people called our school. Agent Samson was not amused when I began referring to her as an articulation coach, but the majority of my teachers were delighted.” (pg. 11)

In the book’s second half, Sedaris is living in France and battling the language and culture barrier. Personally, I found this second part to be better than the first, possibly because I could relate a little more to his adventures with masculine and feminine articles.

“It’s a pretty grim world when I can’t even feel superior to a toddler. Tired of embarrassing myself in front of two-year-olds, I’ve started referring to everything in the plural, which can get expensive but has solved a lot of my problems. [...] A masculine kilo of feminine tomatoes presents a sexual problem easily solved by asking for two kilos of tomatoes. I’ve started using the plural while shopping, and Hugh has stated using it in our cramped kitchen, where he stands huddled in the corner, shouting, ‘What do we need with four pounds of tomatoes?’ [...] Hugh tells me the market is off-limits until my French improves. he’s pretty steamed, but I think he’ll get over it when he sees the CD players I got him for his birthday.” (pg. 191)

Sedaris also deals with the challenge of trying to explain Easter — in his fledgling French — to a fellow language student. This particular chapter had me laughing out loud, and also annoying my mother. But when I made her stop what she was doing — it’s okay, she was only watching the news — to read it, she cracked up herself.

I’m not sure that David Sedaris is for everybody — he has a dry delivery style, and if you read too quickly, you might miss some of the less-in-your-face funny bits. I totally enjoyed this book, though, and will probably pick up another of his books in the near future.