Angie Windheim

Great reading for “all ages.” How many books can answer that claim?  I found one, The Graveyard, by Neil Gaiman. My voracious reader, Ben, read it and loved it. He actually thanked me for buying the book. I decided to read it as well. I loved the movie adaptation of Coraline (based on the novel by Gaiman) and have enjoyed several adult novels by Gaiman. And, then it was awarded the 2008 Newberry Award. I just couldn’t resist.  

The Graveyard is such an excellent story. Harrowing circumstances lead a child, Nobody “Bod” Owens, to be raised and protected by ghosts and a “guardian” in a graveyard. Bod’s parents and sibling were the victims of foul play and a “man named Jack” would like nothing more than to find Bod and finish what he started. The story follows Bod’s coming of age, his adventures and education, and his inevitable confrontation with his family’s legacy. It’s creative, creepy, suspenseful and I completely recommend this book to kids and adults. One exception to the recommendation: kids who go sleepless after movies like Coraline, should skip it or at least not read it before bed.

The first official meeting of the Lit Ladies Book Club kicked off last night at Julie’s house. I had no idea what to expect. Would we even talk about the book? Or was this just an excuse to drink some wine and chat. Well, we did talk about the book and everyone had interesting things to contribute and it was GREAT!  Our book to discuss was The Glass Castle, a memoir by Jeannette Walls. I’ve already blogged my “review” of the book, but it was so fun to hear other perspectives. Out of 12 members, we had the complete mix of “hated it,” “loved it” and everything in between.  I loved that Jami and Cara had done some follow up online and had more information to share about the writer through YouTube interviews and such. I plan to explore those myself, because it would be fun to see these “characters” come to life.

We all agreed to pick completely different genres for the next two months and decided that April will be The Thirteenth Tale, by Diane Setterfield.  I heavily encouraged this ghost/mystery novel. I hope it’s good! For May we will read The Scarlet Letter, by Nathaniel Hawthorne.  

The Thirteen Tale has been compared to works by the Bronte sisters and has excellent reviews (with a few “hated its” thrown in).  Here’s what Amazon.com had to say:

“Settle down to enjoy a rousing good ghost story with Diane Setterfield’s debut novel, The Thirteenth Tale. Setterfield has rejuvenated the genre with this closely plotted, clever foray into a world of secrets, confused identities, lies, and half-truths. She never cheats by pulling a rabbit out of a hat; this atmospheric story hangs together perfectly.There are two heroines here: Vida Winter, a famous author, whose life story is coming to an end, and Margaret Lea, a young, unworldly, bookish girl who is a bookseller in her father’s shop. Vida has been confounding her biographers and fans for years by giving everybody a different version of her life, each time swearing it’s the truth. Because of a biography that Margaret has written about brothers, Vida chooses Margaret to tell her story, all of it, for the first time. At their initial meeting, the conversation begins:

“You have given nineteen different versions of your life story to journalists in the last two years alone.”

She [Vida] shrugged. “It’s my profession. I’m a storyteller.”

“I am a biographer, I work with facts.”

The game is afoot and Margaret must spend some time sorting out whether or not Vida is actually ready to tell the whole truth. There is more here of Margaret discovering than of Vida cooperating wholeheartedly, but that is part of Vida’s plan. The transformative power of truth informs the lives of both women by story’s end, and The Thirteenth Tale is finally and convincingly told.”

Subtly shocking. That’s how I would describe The Glass Castle, by Jeannette Walls. With few exceptions, this memoir covers a truly whacked childhood in a matter-of-fact, unemotional voice.  I would frequently reread passages and pause to let the craziness settle in my brain.  I would also frequently stop and share what was happening to my 11 year old and my husband. They would shake their heads in amazement and ask “what exactly are you reading again?”

The Glass Castle plots out the life of Jeannette Walls. She’s one of four children dragged along by their parents, Rose Mary and Rex Walls.  The parents are routinely neglectful and abusive, yet the kids would cling to their parents bursts of creativity, intelligence and fun.  Simple necessities like clothes, food and running water were ignored, yet the kids were filled with knowledge of the world and taught to be voracious readers who did outstanding in school. The paradox was stunning. 

I enjoyed reading The Glass Castle.  I won’t soon forget the Walls.  However, I do have a “it could’ve been better if…” to share.  The “tell like it is” style of writing fit well for Jeannette’s early years. A kid would accept a lot for not knowing the possibilities of a better life.  However, I expected that disconnected, unemotional style to shift as I became invested in Jeannette as a near-adult who now understood the horrible mistreatment and that there had always been a way out.  The facts were there. She challenged her parents, she got herself out of there and made a healthy life for herself.  But she didn’t make me care as much as I thought I would.  She didn’t bring it to a climax of rage or sadness or inspiration. Intellectually, I can say, “Wow. Can you believe that those kids found their way to success and happiness against all odds?”  But, it didn’t hit me in the gut, just the brain.  

The Glass Castle is my book club’s February pick. I’m eager to meet with the ladies and get their impressions. I’m sure we’ll all be marveling at our favorite outrageous passages and that it all actually happened.

Maya Angelou is an inspiration in many ways to me. She has accomplished so much in her life and the way she writes about it is insightful and engrossing. It makes me want to take a step back and observe my life  and my life’s lessons more.  I had already read The Heart of a Woman and A Song Flung up to Heaven before just now finishing her most acclaimed I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. I’ve loved each autobiography and am actually glad to have read them out of order, first knowing Angelou as an accomplished woman doing great things. Now, after reading of her early years, I have a new appreciation for her strength and determination.  With all of that said, the lessons for a suburban white girl are not so much that this is a great lady. It’s more to have an in-your-face reality of what it has and can still be like for a black woman in America.  As we enter this new era, led by Barack Obama, I hope that racial prejudices continue to subside.  But we need to recognize the history and the mistakes if we are to move beyond it. One passage in I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings really stuck with me. It was as Angelou was battling to be the first black streetcar conductor in San Francisco at the age of 15, “The miserable little encounter had nothing to do with me, the me of me, any more than it had to do with that silly clerk. The incident was a recurring dream, concocted years before by stupid whites and it eternally came back to haunt us all. The secretary and I were like Hamlet and Laertes in the final scene, where, because of the harm done by one ancestor to another, we were bound to duel to the death. Also. Because the play must end somewhere.  I went further than forgiving the clerk, I accepted her as a fellow victim of the same puppeteer.”

Last night I officially joined a book club. There is going to be 12 ladies in the group (most of whom I know already) and our first assignment is The Glass Castle, by Jeannette Walls. It looks to be a very well-reviewed read.  This should be good time. I’ve already met my first goal for joining the club: read books that I wouldn’t have chosen and/or found on my own.   I hadn’t even heard of the first book or the author.

I’m thinking we need to name the group.  Some ideas: Page Turners, Book Mamas, Read and Sips, On the Same Page, Pagin’ Moms, Mom’s Page, Hip Chics Read Books, Reading Divas of Sherwood, Paper Dolls, Circle of Sisters, Lit Ladies (I think that’s my favorite!), etc. 

I’m guessing this will be a fun social night and stimulate my brain a little more than Bunco 🙂

During my two years of  homeschooling Ben and Joe, we read a lot of historical fiction. I adopted the literary-focused American history series from Sonlight Curriculum.  Reading to the boys every day was probably the best part of the whole homeschooling experience. That being said, a good book made our day and a bad book was incredibly tough on us. And, let’s face it, some of those “classics” are difficult to read because of the complex language and long-winded sentences. I thought it would be useful to compile a short list of books that both taught us about a time period in American history AND entertained us with good writing and a sense of humor. In no particular order:

• Old Yeller, Fred Bipson
• By the Great Horn Spoon!, Sid Fleischman
• The Great Turkey Walk, Kathleen Karr
• The Wright Brothers, Quentin Reynolds
• The Year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson, Bette Bao Lord
• Caddie Woodlawn, Carol Ryrie Brink
• The Seventeenth Swap, Eloise McGraw
• Little Britches, Ralph Moody
• The Great Wheel, Robert Lawson

Here’s a few that I really enjoyed. The boys gave them an “OK” but they’re longer and don’t have as much humor.  

• Johnny Tremain, Esther Forbes
• Carry on Mr. Bowditch, Jean Lee Latham
• Moccasin Trail, Eloise Jarvis McGraw
• Walk the World’s Rim, Betty Baker
• The Witch of Blackbird Pond, Elizabeth Greorge Speare

First, I must say that this book is NOT for everyone. Definitely, not men.  However, if you are, or have ever been, a suburban mom, you will find an eery connection to Searching for My Natural Hair Color, by Diane Beil. This book is a very quick and easy read.  The overall plot is not even terribly interesting. But, as the comic strip Dilbert speaks to the working stiffs, Hair Color chats to the Bunco-playing, neighborhood-dwelling ladies. Beil totally gets it. As I read, I nodded and laughed and related to the accurate descriptions of what could’ve easily been my Bunco group. The gossip, the cliques, the different personality dynamics, the bonding over life shakers (often with alcohol in hand)  like divorce, affairs, kids, health issues, going back to work, etc. It’s all there. Some of it is just laugh-out-loud funny. I almost feel a little betrayed though…like someone has let the world know about our secret goings-on, what Bunco is really all about! But seriously, it’s a book you just have to pass around to your friends.

Books are like food. Some kinds fill you up and stick with you for a while. Others are empty calories that leave you feeling like you didn’t really read anything at all. American Gods, by Neil Gaiman, is all slow-burning protein.  This book had me thinking the whole time. I had read Stardust. also by Gaiman. It’s light and fun — an adult, bedtime story.  American Gods is riveting. The ideas, depth and detail are amazing.  The story follows Shadow, a recently released convict who goes home to find his wife is not-quite dead or alive, and his best job offer is as a sidekick for an old world god named Wednesday. Shadow is thrown in the middle of a war between those old world gods and the new world gods (like Media and Digital) that we “worship today.” Did I mention that these gods walk amongst people like you and me? A major bonus is the way Gaiman throws in a lot of fascinating old world myths/fables/folklore to chew on. It’s entertaining and thought provoking and definitely not a book for “carb” lovers.