The only downside of a readcation is all the reviews to write afterwards! Here goes....
Last week I finished:
You know I love my Flavia stories, and book seven was no exception. In
As Chimney Sweepers Come to Dust, we find Flavia "banished" to a girls school in Canada. I was initially disappointed to think that Flavia wouldn't be at Buckshaw in Bishop's Lacey with her difficult sisters and all her friends. But I quickly got used to seeing Flavia out of her element, and it was fun. Of course, our girl detective isn't in Canada long before there's a corpse at her feet--literally this time, as a skeleton wrapped in a Union Jack dislodges from the chimney in her room and the head rolls off--and she has a case to solve using chemistry and her good old common sense. Telling you any more might ruin things if you haven't read all of the previous books in the series (this is a series to be read in order), and I'll not tell you how it ends. I read this one start to finish over readcation and loved every page of it. My most fervent wish is the series never ends and Flavia never ages. She's my favorite literary heroine.
My rating: 4 stars.
Oh, politics is a charged subject these days, isn't it? As someone who spends a lot of time listening to news, reading opinions, and thinking about politics, I feel that I'm well-informed. But, I sometimes worry I'm locked up in an echo chamber, and I sometimes fear I'm losing compassion for those with differing opinions, and that's where
I Think You're Wrong (But I'm Listening) comes in. Written by the purveyors of the
Pantsuit Politics podcast, Sarah (liberal) and Beth (conservative), they lay forth the things we can do to make talking about politics more comfortable and less fraught. Working as I do in a very liberal environment, where decisions are made based on the political leanings of those in charge, it's often impossible for me to have a voice because I'm concerned about reprisal. If I don't agree with policy, I'll be branded a hater, and there's always the fear of dismissal if I'm not a team player. This makes work difficult, and it's especially hard when I remember that it didn't always used to be this way. I've been at my current job for almost 21 years. The views and overall climate has changed drastically, but my convictions have not. More and more I feel a need to address this on a personal level just to keep my head above water. It's a very difficult situation to be in where you don't feel understood or valued, when you're told your strongly-held convictions are outmoded and prejudicial. So, I went into this book with a lot of raw emotions and a fair amount of resentment and frustration and hurt. And I had high expectations for the book. Of course, a book cannot be the whole answer, and this one wasn't. It was, though, a good reminder to constantly try to see both sides, to search out facts (though this is difficult because there are
no unbiased reporters), and to be kind even when you fervently disagree. Following are some thoughts I wrote down right after finishing the book. (1.) The importance of empathy is alluded to but never explicitly addressed in those terms. A big missed opportunity in light of this being a Christian book. (2.) They often started with a premise that was biased, such as the imbalance between the sexes--not everyone believes there is an imbalance, so conversations based on this foundation can't be helpful to half of your readership (or listeners). (3.) The whole book felt like it was written by Sarah (the liberal) with conservative examples sprinkled in. The conservative view often wasn't represented, or was weakly represented. (4.) The book challenged my own issues of seeing things in terms of scarcity and reaction with fear instead of with the power bestowed on me as a daughter of the Kingdom. (5.) Their base belief is of nuance--but I firmly believe in right and wrong; things aren't "a little wrong" or "mostly right." Nuance should exist in the discussion that leads to the conclusion on a topic, but each topic should be solved by what serves the greater right. So, I didn't necessarily come away from the book with a changed consciousness, but perhaps a renewed sense of monitoring my thought about "the other side" for hardness and bitterness, and most especially, fear, because in the grand scheme of things, God is the great Governor, not a Democrat or a member of the GOP. I think this would be a good book club read as the discussion could be very interesting. It didn't change my life, but it may have helped open my heart a bit.
My rating: 4 stars.
Sometimes I pick up a book--and this is especially true for decorating books--and I have rather low expectations overall. And then I'm so pleasantly surprised to find something I had been looking for but didn't know I was. That's a lot of words to say Myquillyn Smith's
The Nesting Place was an unexpected delight. Smith, her husband, and their three sons, have lived in over a dozen homes in about as many years, and she has something to say about making a home and taking risk. While the beginning part of the book where Smith took us through the circumstances that landed them in 13 homes with three young boys and not a lot of money made me quake with fear, overall the book showed me more about myself than about my style. My husband and I are six months away from paying off our 30-year mortgage in just over eight years. This is a first home for both of us, and while we made some mistakes (such as, there's more to taking care of a yard than mowing the grass and caulking a hole in bathroom drywall is not a good fix), we've learned a lot about home ownership and what we do and don't want in our next home. Because, while reading this book, I finally had the guts to admit aloud that this probably wasn't my forever home. I've always been afraid of wanting more out of a home than the snug, sweet, little rambler we bought. After all, some folks don't
have homes. And some folks can't afford to be mortgage-free in less than 30 years. Who was I to want more? Wasn't I the one who watches HGTV shows on mute because I can't stand a young 20-something couple with two small children saying they HAD to have five bedrooms, a gourmet kitchen, and a three-car garage, or they wouldn't ever consider the house? I grew up in a falling-down-around-our-ears 100-year-old farmhouse--and not the swanky
Fixer Upper kind, either. Being able to do laundry at home should remain a luxury after that. But I do want more, or at least I want
different. And I'm finally able to better articulate that. Smith comes at homemaking with a Christian slant, which I was happy to discover. That was a big plus in my book. What I didn't care about was her DIY decorating style. I appreciate that it works for her family and their budget, but I won't be making a wreath for my front door out of plastic spoons in this or any lifetime. Yet, I sincerely love that there are people who do! My antique paintings of dogs are likely too fusty for some. So, you do you, I'll do me. Also, I retain my reluctance to put 87 nail holes in the wall above the couch. Again, fine for you, but I'll be measuring mine out with an engineer's precision so no hole is made that isn't used. Less and less do I feel bad about how I choose to decorate, or what I choose to buy, or how much I choose to spend for the perfect piece. And this book came along at the right time to have helped a lot.
My rating: 4 stars.
Recently I read that Reese Witherspoon's favorite book was Graham Greene's
The End of the Affair, and when I run unto someone throwing out the title of their favorite book, I have to check it out. How can one not? So I picked up
The End of the Affair on audio, read by Colin Firth, without even really finding out what it's about first. The story is this: writer Maurice is working on a piece about civil servants' wives, so he begins an affair with Sarah, who happens to be one. He is (or becomes, I don't remember which) friends with her husband, Henry, too. But Sarah abruptly ends the affair, and things become tortured and tragic all the way around. I didn't know this was a story about infidelity, thinking that the "affair" in the title referenced a "relationship"--you know how the English are. And I really, really don't like infidelity in plots. For some folks it's abuse or imprisonment or rape, for me it's infidelity. I can tolerate it if it's a side plot, I guess, but for a whole book to be based on it? Ooph. So, I may not be an impartial judge, but I will try to be. I can see why some would love this book. It's a character study, and it goes deeply (though I would have perhaps preferred going even deeper). Often character studies are admired because they just seem so smart. I was frustrated that the motivations of both Maurice and Sarah were rather shallow and rather shallowly discussed. (Some, I know, would disagree.) The relationship just felt rather ill-conceived, and the characters felt more like teenagers than middle aged post-war folks. I was hoping the introduction of religious conversion of the female character would take us deeper than it did. (Though, again, some would disagree.) This would be a good book club selection, as there's a lot to discuss. I just really wasn't my cup of tea, and I was not disappointed when it ended.
My rating: 3 stars.
Years and years ago I read Anna Quindlen's slim
How Reading Changed My Life, and though I loved it, I have never returned to it. As part of my year of re-reading, I decided to pick it up again. At less than 100 pages, this is really just a long essay (or maybe several essays) about her lifetime spent reading, from her girlhood days choosing books from her neighbor's basement shelves to her wonderfully dated essay on reading electronically, and how that's probably not going to catch on (how much you want to bet Quindlen owns a Kindle nowadays?!). I have a feeling the same parts that appealed to me in 1998 appealed to me 20 years later (I'm remarkably consistent in that way), but overall, it didn't pack nearly the same punch as it did the first time I read it. Unfortunately, that probably has to do with the amount of reading I've done since then. It's the avid reader's Catch 22--the more you read, the more you have to measure a previously loved book against. Still, this just might be the first book I ever read about reading (and long before I was the great reader I am now), and that means it will always have a sentimental place in my heart. Also, this was likely my introduction to Quindlen's nonfiction, which I enjoy above most anyone else's. So, even though my revisit didn't quite measure up to my first time through, memory alone is enough to keep it cemented in its spot as a favorite.
My rating: 3 stars.
I'm always looking to go deeper into a poets' repertoire, and my latest foray was Carol Ann Duffy's
Sincerity. England's Poet Laureate in 2009, Duffy's work surprised me. I know I've read many poems by her in the past (
like this wonderful poem), but I've never gotten a feel for her voice. This was an eyeopener, and I've found a new favorite, I think. Her poetry ranges from domestic to emotional, exploring grief, aging, time. I found several wonderful poems here, and I'm so glad I tried this book. In fact, I plan to buy a copy of it for my poetry collection.
My rating: 4 stars.
This week I'm re-reading:
It's as good as I remember.
I think I've settled on this as my new Kindle re-read:
I first "read" this on audio, and I was often confused by the transitions, so it will be nice to see it written out.
Last week I began:
The last of the Penderwick books. Sigh. And a good poetry re-read.
My audiobook:
I was a little concerned that I wouldn't like this one, but I've definitely been taken in.
You know I love my Flavia stories, and book seven was no exception. In As Chimney Sweepers Come to Dust, we find Flavia "banished" to a girls school in Canada. I was initially disappointed to think that Flavia wouldn't be at Buckshaw in Bishop's Lacey with her difficult sisters and all her friends. But I quickly got used to seeing Flavia out of her element, and it was fun. Of course, our girl detective isn't in Canada long before there's a corpse at her feet--literally this time, as a skeleton wrapped in a Union Jack dislodges from the chimney in her room and the head rolls off--and she has a case to solve using chemistry and her good old common sense. Telling you any more might ruin things if you haven't read all of the previous books in the series (this is a series to be read in order), and I'll not tell you how it ends. I read this one start to finish over readcation and loved every page of it. My most fervent wish is the series never ends and Flavia never ages. She's my favorite literary heroine. My rating: 4 stars. 
Oh, politics is a charged subject these days, isn't it? As someone who spends a lot of time listening to news, reading opinions, and thinking about politics, I feel that I'm well-informed. But, I sometimes worry I'm locked up in an echo chamber, and I sometimes fear I'm losing compassion for those with differing opinions, and that's where I Think You're Wrong (But I'm Listening) comes in. Written by the purveyors of the Pantsuit Politics podcast, Sarah (liberal) and Beth (conservative), they lay forth the things we can do to make talking about politics more comfortable and less fraught. Working as I do in a very liberal environment, where decisions are made based on the political leanings of those in charge, it's often impossible for me to have a voice because I'm concerned about reprisal. If I don't agree with policy, I'll be branded a hater, and there's always the fear of dismissal if I'm not a team player. This makes work difficult, and it's especially hard when I remember that it didn't always used to be this way. I've been at my current job for almost 21 years. The views and overall climate has changed drastically, but my convictions have not. More and more I feel a need to address this on a personal level just to keep my head above water. It's a very difficult situation to be in where you don't feel understood or valued, when you're told your strongly-held convictions are outmoded and prejudicial. So, I went into this book with a lot of raw emotions and a fair amount of resentment and frustration and hurt. And I had high expectations for the book. Of course, a book cannot be the whole answer, and this one wasn't. It was, though, a good reminder to constantly try to see both sides, to search out facts (though this is difficult because there are no unbiased reporters), and to be kind even when you fervently disagree. Following are some thoughts I wrote down right after finishing the book. (1.) The importance of empathy is alluded to but never explicitly addressed in those terms. A big missed opportunity in light of this being a Christian book. (2.) They often started with a premise that was biased, such as the imbalance between the sexes--not everyone believes there is an imbalance, so conversations based on this foundation can't be helpful to half of your readership (or listeners). (3.) The whole book felt like it was written by Sarah (the liberal) with conservative examples sprinkled in. The conservative view often wasn't represented, or was weakly represented. (4.) The book challenged my own issues of seeing things in terms of scarcity and reaction with fear instead of with the power bestowed on me as a daughter of the Kingdom. (5.) Their base belief is of nuance--but I firmly believe in right and wrong; things aren't "a little wrong" or "mostly right." Nuance should exist in the discussion that leads to the conclusion on a topic, but each topic should be solved by what serves the greater right. So, I didn't necessarily come away from the book with a changed consciousness, but perhaps a renewed sense of monitoring my thought about "the other side" for hardness and bitterness, and most especially, fear, because in the grand scheme of things, God is the great Governor, not a Democrat or a member of the GOP. I think this would be a good book club read as the discussion could be very interesting. It didn't change my life, but it may have helped open my heart a bit. My rating: 4 stars.
Sometimes I pick up a book--and this is especially true for decorating books--and I have rather low expectations overall. And then I'm so pleasantly surprised to find something I had been looking for but didn't know I was. That's a lot of words to say Myquillyn Smith's The Nesting Place was an unexpected delight. Smith, her husband, and their three sons, have lived in over a dozen homes in about as many years, and she has something to say about making a home and taking risk. While the beginning part of the book where Smith took us through the circumstances that landed them in 13 homes with three young boys and not a lot of money made me quake with fear, overall the book showed me more about myself than about my style. My husband and I are six months away from paying off our 30-year mortgage in just over eight years. This is a first home for both of us, and while we made some mistakes (such as, there's more to taking care of a yard than mowing the grass and caulking a hole in bathroom drywall is not a good fix), we've learned a lot about home ownership and what we do and don't want in our next home. Because, while reading this book, I finally had the guts to admit aloud that this probably wasn't my forever home. I've always been afraid of wanting more out of a home than the snug, sweet, little rambler we bought. After all, some folks don't have homes. And some folks can't afford to be mortgage-free in less than 30 years. Who was I to want more? Wasn't I the one who watches HGTV shows on mute because I can't stand a young 20-something couple with two small children saying they HAD to have five bedrooms, a gourmet kitchen, and a three-car garage, or they wouldn't ever consider the house? I grew up in a falling-down-around-our-ears 100-year-old farmhouse--and not the swanky Fixer Upper kind, either. Being able to do laundry at home should remain a luxury after that. But I do want more, or at least I want different. And I'm finally able to better articulate that. Smith comes at homemaking with a Christian slant, which I was happy to discover. That was a big plus in my book. What I didn't care about was her DIY decorating style. I appreciate that it works for her family and their budget, but I won't be making a wreath for my front door out of plastic spoons in this or any lifetime. Yet, I sincerely love that there are people who do! My antique paintings of dogs are likely too fusty for some. So, you do you, I'll do me. Also, I retain my reluctance to put 87 nail holes in the wall above the couch. Again, fine for you, but I'll be measuring mine out with an engineer's precision so no hole is made that isn't used. Less and less do I feel bad about how I choose to decorate, or what I choose to buy, or how much I choose to spend for the perfect piece. And this book came along at the right time to have helped a lot. My rating: 4 stars.
Recently I read that Reese Witherspoon's favorite book was Graham Greene's The End of the Affair, and when I run unto someone throwing out the title of their favorite book, I have to check it out. How can one not? So I picked up The End of the Affair on audio, read by Colin Firth, without even really finding out what it's about first. The story is this: writer Maurice is working on a piece about civil servants' wives, so he begins an affair with Sarah, who happens to be one. He is (or becomes, I don't remember which) friends with her husband, Henry, too. But Sarah abruptly ends the affair, and things become tortured and tragic all the way around. I didn't know this was a story about infidelity, thinking that the "affair" in the title referenced a "relationship"--you know how the English are. And I really, really don't like infidelity in plots. For some folks it's abuse or imprisonment or rape, for me it's infidelity. I can tolerate it if it's a side plot, I guess, but for a whole book to be based on it? Ooph. So, I may not be an impartial judge, but I will try to be. I can see why some would love this book. It's a character study, and it goes deeply (though I would have perhaps preferred going even deeper). Often character studies are admired because they just seem so smart. I was frustrated that the motivations of both Maurice and Sarah were rather shallow and rather shallowly discussed. (Some, I know, would disagree.) The relationship just felt rather ill-conceived, and the characters felt more like teenagers than middle aged post-war folks. I was hoping the introduction of religious conversion of the female character would take us deeper than it did. (Though, again, some would disagree.) This would be a good book club selection, as there's a lot to discuss. I just really wasn't my cup of tea, and I was not disappointed when it ended. My rating: 3 stars.
Years and years ago I read Anna Quindlen's slim How Reading Changed My Life, and though I loved it, I have never returned to it. As part of my year of re-reading, I decided to pick it up again. At less than 100 pages, this is really just a long essay (or maybe several essays) about her lifetime spent reading, from her girlhood days choosing books from her neighbor's basement shelves to her wonderfully dated essay on reading electronically, and how that's probably not going to catch on (how much you want to bet Quindlen owns a Kindle nowadays?!). I have a feeling the same parts that appealed to me in 1998 appealed to me 20 years later (I'm remarkably consistent in that way), but overall, it didn't pack nearly the same punch as it did the first time I read it. Unfortunately, that probably has to do with the amount of reading I've done since then. It's the avid reader's Catch 22--the more you read, the more you have to measure a previously loved book against. Still, this just might be the first book I ever read about reading (and long before I was the great reader I am now), and that means it will always have a sentimental place in my heart. Also, this was likely my introduction to Quindlen's nonfiction, which I enjoy above most anyone else's. So, even though my revisit didn't quite measure up to my first time through, memory alone is enough to keep it cemented in its spot as a favorite. My rating: 3 stars.
I'm always looking to go deeper into a poets' repertoire, and my latest foray was Carol Ann Duffy's Sincerity. England's Poet Laureate in 2009, Duffy's work surprised me. I know I've read many poems by her in the past (like this wonderful poem), but I've never gotten a feel for her voice. This was an eyeopener, and I've found a new favorite, I think. Her poetry ranges from domestic to emotional, exploring grief, aging, time. I found several wonderful poems here, and I'm so glad I tried this book. In fact, I plan to buy a copy of it for my poetry collection. My rating: 4 stars.
I love a good middle-grade reader, so I decided to listen to the newest Newbery Medal winner, Merci Suarez Changes Gears by Meg Medina. This is the story of sixth-grader Cuban-American Merci who is in a new school. But in addition to navigating the changes at school, home is changing too. Her grandfather, whom she calls Lolo, is showing troubling signs of forgetfulness and aggression, and her big brother, Roli, is heading off to college in the fall. Add to all this the pill of a classmate, Edna Santos, and you have a pretty real look at a young girl's life. I enjoyed this one quite a bit. The audio is very good, as the narrator gives certain characters true Spanish accents, which really brings the story to life. I kind of hope this becomes a series, because I could use more Merci. This is a good book for girls and boys in that tween stage. My rating: 4 stars.
Last year I listened to Daisy Goodwin's Victoria, which was a companion book to the PBS miniseries. It was one of my favorite listening experiences of the year. So I was excited to see if The American Heiress lives up to Victoria, and I'm happy to say it did. This is the story of American heiress Cora Cash who goes to England to (marry and) get a title. It's the only thing her family's enormous wealth can't buy. In short time she meets and marries a duke, but becoming a duchess in a society as inhospitable to Americans as the English one at the turn of the last century is not nearly as easy as she'd hoped it would be. There's not necessarily a lot of plot here (which I almost prefer in books), and the fun of the book is in the details. There's all the societal judgement, pettiness, intrigue, and scandal we come to love from stories of the Downton Abbey era. The characters were interesting and believable, if a bit exaggerated (though I think that exaggeration is what I liked about them). A word on the audio: This was more of a performance than most audiobooks I listen to. You're either going to love it or hate it. The high-society voices are just what you'd expect to hear, but they can grate on your nerves. The (American) Southern high-society voice of Cora's mother was especially good. I really liked this one, and I think Daisy Goodwin will become an auto-buy for me. Her stories are fun and interesting and break up the monotony of too much fiction. My rating: 4 stars.
Each year I re-read a Jane Austen novel in the order I originally read them. This year, it was Northanger Abbey's turn. This is likely Austen's least preferred novel, but there's something about it I like quite a bit. Our main character is Catherine Morland, an unassuming, simple, young lady who travels to Bath with some older acquaintances and meets some young people her own age. She falls for Mr. Tilney and becomes fast friends with his sister, but she has to ward off the unappreciated advances of the insufferable Mr. Thorpe. There's the usual issues with love and engagements, with positions and money. But this book is a little different from the others in that it has a lot to say about books, especially novels--that scandalous material they young folk are getting into. And I like the main character's naivety more than I like some of the other, better-known and more poised Austen girls. I even enjoyed the reading of this book more than some other Austen re-reads I've done lately. I didn't have the usual problems with getting to the end of a page of text and realizing I hadn't picked up anything. All in all, it was an enjoyable re-read. My rating: 4 stars.
Another of my recent re-reads was Stephanie Nielson's Heaven Is Here. Nielson is a blogger who writes (week)daily updates about her five children, her Mormon faith, and her life as a wife and mother. She also has a strong sense of style in clothing and décor, which I find interesting to follow. I started reading her blog after reading her book the first time, so I thought it would be nice to revisit the book for details I may have forgotten. In 2009, Nielson and her husband, Christian, were involved in a fiery plane crash (her husband was at the controls) that left them with burns over 80% of their body (if I remember correctly). Nielson was in an induced coma for several months before awaking to the long, hard road to physical, emotional, and spiritual healing. Most of the book chronicles her time in the burn unit and university hospital enduring untold pain and relearning simple tasks made much harder by the inflexibility of her too-tight skin. She recalls the difficulty of seeing her facial deformity for the first time and the heartbreaking ordeal of her small children's first visit to see her after the accident in which one child took one look and left the room and was unwilling to look at her for months afterward. This is an honest book, simply told, and it's guaranteed to put all of your daily gripes in perspective. It was also a good reminder to me to be gentle with those who are dealing with difficult things. There is a lot of talk of faith and the Father's love, which is a great reminder to all. My rating: 3.5 stars.
Years ago I read a poem by Polish poet Anna Swir (you can read it here), that I found so endearing, I added her to my list of poets to explore in depth. I finally checked out her Talking to My Body, translated by Czeslaw Milosz. For the most part, her poems are short and contain a sting, usually at the end. While I enjoyed the book, I didn't find any poems that equaled my love for "The Greatest Love" which has a lightness many of the other poems do not. Of course, Poland as not a great place to live in the last century, so you can expect dark poetry coming out of the country. I'm glad I read this one. My rating: 3 stars.
I met someone at my favorite jewelry store recently who has similar reading tastes, and she said I had to read Beneath a Scarlet Sky. It was on my TBR (I already had the Kindle version), but I decided to move it up to an audio version after her urging. This is a novel based on the true story of a young man in Milan, Italy, during World War II. When Italy surrenders to the Nazis, young Pino Lella joins the Nazi army as a spy for the Italian resistance. He becomes the driver for a Nazi general and reports what he learns to underground resistance forces. He also falls in love with the lovely Anna, the maid of the Nazi general's mistress. This really is quite a story, but I just have such trouble believing it's real. It's too good to be true. The amount of serendipity and coincidence is too high for me to believe. So, I was a bit on guard throughout. It could be true, but in the age of "fake news," who knows? I do recommend this one, though, as one of the better WWII novels to have flooded the market recently. The writing is a bit simpler than I like, but the story really is something. The audio version is good, but if you have the ability to listen at 1.5 speed (which I don't), you might do so as the narration is much slower and more deliberate than the book warrants. My rating: 4 stars.
I am always on the lookout for a good, solid mystery series, and I think I've found another to add to my auto-buy list. Death of a Rainmaker is the first book in a new Dust Bowl Mystery series. Set in Oklahoma during the Dust Bowl and Depression of the 1930s, the book introduces us to the small town of Vermillion, where farms are being foreclosed, businesses are going belly up, tramps are setting up camp, and the air is thick with dust. The sheriff, Temple Jennings, has a murder case on his hands when the rainmaker hired by the town to bring relief and came to town not 24 hours earlier is found dead outside the matinee. The sheriff's wife gets involved in the case when a local CCCer (one of President Roosevelt's ABC initiatives to put people to work during the Depression) is accused of the crime. She knows he's innocent, but if he didn't do it, who did? Who had motive? And will the sheriff solve the case before the primary that will determine his reelection chances? This was a good, straightforward mystery. It's not fancy, but the characters are real, and the desperation of the town itself becomes a character. I really enjoyed it. My rating: 4 stars.
I'd known about current poet laureate Tracy K. Smith for awhile, but only recently have I begun to explore her poetry. After enjoying Wade in the Water last month, I moved her memoir, National Book Award Finalist Ordinary Light, up my TBR. It was a wonderful book. This one won't be for everyone, because the "plot" is very...ordinary. That's the point. Smith writes about moments of her life that are less stories than slim memories. But it's those memories that make up a life, that form a path that, when looked back upon, show us how we became who we are. Smith is the youngest of five children, her siblings quite a bit older than she. Her parents are educated Southern Baptist blacks, her father has a military career, her mother stayed home to raise the children. Faith informs their lives, and Smith spends a great deal of time examining the mother/daughter relationship and their Baptist beliefs. Her mother is a strong, moral, principled woman, whom Smith admires. (I adored her, too.) The family is close-knit and values church and education. As Smith grows older, she grapples with her blackness, with her faith, and with her desire to do what she pleases though she'd always been told certain things were sins. In short, it's a memoir of identity. I was disappointed that Smith didn't talk more about her path to becoming one of the premier poets of the modern era, but this book stops at the death of her mother (not a spoiler--the book opens with the death), when Smith is just out of college. Her literary career is yet to unfold. If you're interested in memoirs about identity, especially African-American female identity, this is a must read. It's gentle and slow, but it's well-written, honest, and respectful. I loved it, and I only wish it would have been around in my post-college years. My rating: 4 stars. 
Always on the lookout for modern classics to read, I was excited to tackle Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns. It was published in 1984 and takes place in 1906 in Cold Sassy, Georgia. It's narrated by the teenage Will Tweedy whose grandfather E. Rucker Blakeslee, a widower of only three weeks, announces in the opening pages that he plans to marry Miss Love Simpson, the milliner in his dry goods store--and he does so the next day. Naturally, this turn of events angers Will Tweedy's mother and his Aunt Loma, Rucker's daughters, who are worried about propriety as well as their inheritances. It also sets the townsfolks' tongues a-wagging. It is true that Grandpa wanted a free housekeeper, or does he really have feelings for Miss Love? Along with the main story, there are other happenings, like the automobile coming to Cold Sassy, Will's narrowly escaped railroad accident, and a suicide in the family. While it's an overall light book--which I appreciated, though it took awhile to--it does have some high-drama parts that seemed a little jarring with the overall tone and time period. But more and more I found myself falling for the book's charm, and I ended up enjoying it a great deal. The rather rushed ending sets up the book's sequel, Leaving Cold Sassy. I listened to this one on audio, and the audio was very good. There's a lot of Southern speak, and I still hear it in my head at all hours even days later. Try this one, I think you might like it. My rating: 4 stars.
