Last week I finished:
I think I got onto the hold list early for Julie Andrews's Home Work, because I got it surprisingly quickly. I just love being able to read "it" books while they're still hot. Years ago I read Andrews's first memoir, Home, and I found it quite depressing. Her childhood was a bit Dickensian, and the book ended before she'd made it to her Hollywood years. I assumed for years there had to be a second book coming in which she'd talk about Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music and her later work. Home Work, out these eleven years later, is that book. By now, however, I'd forgotten the details of her first book, but she gave a nice, lengthy recap for those who've forgotten or not read the first memoir. For this reason, I'd advise to skip the first book (it really was so depressing), and dive into this one. In this book, Andrews talks about her Hollywood movies and musicals and the joy she found in working with Walt Disney, Dick Van Dyke, James Garner, and others. She also talks about her two marriages, both to men in the entertainment business; her daughter, Emma; her stepchildren; and her adopted Vietnamese daughters, Amelia and Joanna. She talks about living in several areas of the world and moving around for filming. She is very generous to those involved in her story, being truthful but never disparaging, but she never goes very deeply, preferring to stay mostly on the surface of events and relationships. I'm not familiar with most of the movies she discusses in the book, though, so some of that was a little ho-hum to me, not being invested in those films the same way I am with The Sound of Music, for example. It was an enjoyable read, especially for a celebrity memoir, though I wouldn't call it stellar. Perhaps I prefer a more introspective memoir. Still, if you're an Andrews fan, and you're familiar with her work, give it a try. My rating: 3 stars.
I'm late to Just Mercy, as I'm not generally drawn to social justice books, but having read Anthony Ray Hinton's memoir, The Sun Does Shine (read my review here), of being wrongfully incarcerated, spending 30 years on death row, and being released due to Bryan Stevenson's work, I knew I had to read Stevenson's book. In it, he talks about the work he's done for mostly poor and black inmates who are incarcerated after sham southern trials. Since the poor cannot pay for legal counsel, they must rely on overworked, overwhelmed, and, often, unengaged, court-appointed attorneys. Add to that the discrimination that still exists in some southern court systems, and some blacks end up serving time for crimes they did not commit. Stevenson has also worked hard to change the laws about not only death sentencing but also youth being tried as adults and sentenced to die. Though the stories and instances are horrific, it's still a hopeful book. I kept thanking God for people like Stevenson who are tirelessly committing their lives to making things right for the wrongfully accused. The book has been made into a movie set to open on Christmas day. If you, like me, missed this one when it came out five years ago, pick it up now. It's honest, respectful, thought-provoking, heartening, and it never gets hateful. My rating: 5 stars.
The next two reviews are for books read for Cybils award judging and represent my opinions. My reviews do not necessarily reflect the opinions of other panelists.
I had planned to read Ashley Bryan's Infinite Hope: A Black Artist's Journey from World War II to Peace only until I'd read enough to fairly judge it for Cybils. I'm a bit burned out on World War II stories, and I'm burned out this year on children's books about racism and otherizing and social justice. But once I started this book, I could not stop reading. It's part narrative, part war letters home, and part artist portfolio, and I enjoyed the multimedia approach. The copious artwork is mostly sketch work, though there are a few paintings, too. In the book, Bryan discusses his time as a black soldier in a segregated army. As a northerner, he was unfamiliar with racial segregation and the feelings it invokes. He was part of the group of men who swept the beaches of Normandy and removed mines in preparation for the D-Day invasion. Since the soldiers had to return home in segregated ships, they had to leave a few at a time, wherever there was room. Bryan stayed back until all of his men were on their way home. Throughout his three years at war, Bryan drew constantly. It was how he dealt with the horrific things he was seeing and experiencing. Periodically he'd send his artwork home for safekeeping. But when he returned home, he did not look at his artwork from this period for 40 years. Only his family and closest friends even knew he'd been to war. In recent years, though, he's finally been able to talk about his experiences and work up some of his sketches into full-color paintings. It's a great story, and a lovely book. I recommend it to anyone looking to learn about the black soldier's WWII experience. My rating: 4 stars. 
Her Own Two Feet is the true story of Rebeka Uwitonze, a Rwandan girl born with clubfeet. Poor and unable to have Rebeka's feet fixed, though several charitable attempts were made while she was a toddler, she is kept from school and participating in a normal life. Eventually, she teaches herself to walk on the tops of her feet, and she becomes able to walk the three miles to school. By chance, though, her family comes to the attention of a family who report to Rebeka's American host family, that she is in need of surgery. Rebeka is brought to America for about a year to go through surgeries and numerous casts to correct her feet. Then, she must learn to walk on her "turned-flat" feet, before returning home. During her stay in America, she lives with a wonderful family (the mother is the author of the book) who love and care for her like she's one of their own. Rebeka quickly learns English, has a tutor who homeschools her, makes many friends, and gets to experience life in America--including Disneyland. Upon returning home, though, he finds that she is unable to speak her native language, until it comes back to her, bit by bit, over several weeks. Where the book leaves off, she is sent away to a boarding school in order to receive a good education, another act of charity. I often hear people decrying well-meaning Americans, like the ones in Rebeka's life, who swoop in and change their lives and then leave them to muddle through the more primitive parts of their African lives (no plumbing, no sanitation, poor schooling, little means of making a supportable income). I have a feeling this will not happen in Rebeka's case, and she has quite the fan club in America who will likely help her get into college when she reaches that point. That being said, though, it was very difficult to see Rebeka going from the luxury of middle-class America back to Rwanda, and having temporarily lost her language to boot. It's a good story for our American children who may have no idea of the hardships in many African countries. And no doubt you'll fall in love with feisty Rebeka. I sure did. My rating: 4 stars.
This week I'll be reading:
Having finished my Cybils reading list, I'm now free to read adult books again! I'm not sure what I'll settle on.
This week's audiobooks:
My hold came in for the new Brian Kilmeade history book, and I'm excited. I don't know much about the Alamo (have I forgotten?), so I'm looking forward to this. And Backman, well, I'll read anything he writes. Period.
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