The Ghost at the Table by Suzanne Berne

Here's a surprise just in time for Thanksgiving: a novel about family dysfunction! When I picked up The Ghost at the Table, I thought I'd give it a try despite the general over abundance of family dysfunction literature, especially when it concerns the holidays. What got me over my initial reluctance to read it is that the protagonist, Cynthia Fiske, is a writer who has been enticed to fly home to her sister's house for Thanksgiving because of its proximity to Hartford, Connecticut, where she must travel to research her latest book on Mark Twain's daughters. I'm always a sucker for novels about writers.

Cynthia and her sister Frances are "close" as long as they maintain a long distance kinship. Cynthia has lived on the West Coast for years and rarely returns to Connecticut to see family, though Frances annually invites her to spend the holidays in her bucolic New England home. Frances's storybook life makes the more free wheeling Cynthia feel claustrophobic, while Frances finds Cynthia's single life of career and friends lacking in depth. This year, despite her strong inclinations to resist, Cynthia is manipulated into returning home for the holidays because of the unexpected re-entry into Frances's life of their estranged father, who has just suffered a stroke during divorce proceedings from his young wife.

This basic outline of the plot does little to push this novel out of the "oh, no, here's another book on bad family relationships" category, but fortunately Berne adds a few twists to make her novel an interesting and refreshingly different take on an old theme. There is a mystery at the heart of this family's dysfunction: what really happened on the night of their invalid mother's death 25 years before, and why did their father marry a relative stranger suddenly afterwards? Another prominent element of the novel is the research Cynthia does for her children's books on the unknown siblings of famous historical figures. Cynthia's current book, on Mark Twain's daughters, has many parallels in it to the relationships among her own family members.

All families have a collective memory that is screened through each person's own perspective on the past, but these two sisters have drastically different memories not only of their mother and the circumstances of her death, but on almost every other element of their shared childhood as well. Frances seems almost obsessively determined to sugarcoat everything, and Cynthia seems just as compulsive about refusing to see their past as anything but traumatic. Who's version of the past is the correct one? Which side is the reader going to choose as the more trustworthy?

It didn't take long for me to get wrapped up in this novel. Berne successfully takes a situation that could be the same old tale of Thanksgiving gone awry and turns it into something new and intriguing. As Margot Livesey puts it, "...Berne creates characters and situations which are simultaneously deeply familiar and wonderfully strange. The result is a remarkably suspenseful novel, beautifully written[,] and psychologically acute."

Being Catholic Now: Prominent Americans Talk About Change in the Church and the Quest for Meaning by Kerry Kennedy

Being Catholic Now by Kerry Kennedy can be considered a niche book because it concerns one particular religious tradition, but it can also be of interest to general readers who may not be Catholic but who may have questions about the doctrines of the Church or of people who are Catholic. Kennedy's book represents the wide ranging views of 37 public figures, from Bill O'Reilly to Bill Maher (polar opposites in every regard), on the institution of the Church, the role of religion in their lives--or why they no longer subscribe to it--and their thoughts about the Church's future.

Naturally, many of the reviews of this book focus on the statements by participants who are critical of the Church or are negative about some Church doctrine--such is the nature of creating a header for a review--but what I found most powerful were the positive statements that most of the interviewees made about their Catholic upbringing or of their respect for the social justice doctrines of the Church or their optimism about the future of the Church. There's no denying that many of the people featured in Kennedy's book have major disagreements with the political stances of the Church, but even so, these disagreements are not enough to cause them to turn their backs on the Church which is central to their own faith. And Kennedy made sure to include Catholics in this book who are happy to meet the Catholic Church where it is and who have no disagreements with it at all.

Some Catholic reviewers have called the book anti-Catholic, especially because it also includes the views of people, like Gabriel Byrne, Bill Maher, and Frank McCourt, who have left the church and are unsparing in their condemnation of the institution itself. Including these viewpoints in the book does not make the whole conversation anti-Catholic; instead, it makes it a truly thoughtful book that does not shy away from the hard realities that come with organized religion. What is striking, if a reader thoughtfully considered all of the statements in the book, is that despite the differences of opinion, there is a surprising amount of commonality among the participants when they discuss the value of a spiritual life and the social justice works the Catholic church does around the world.

According to the Boston Globe, when spokeswoman for the US Conference of Catholic Bishops, Sister Mary Ann Walsh, heard of the book and the diverse voices represented in it, she said: "A lot of Catholics are having lovers' quarrels with the church....It's an institution they love very much, and they care for, and when there's a disagreement, it can become a passionate disagreement, because they care so much....I find that comforting, that people will sit and argue the points, rather than think it isn't worth discussing. There's more hope if people have an honest intellectual struggle with what the church teaches - that's been the history of the church, that people have struggled to understand our teaching better."

Kennedy's book is one that focuses on that struggle for understanding. In any institution, religious or otherwise, there are many voices, opinions, values, conflicts, and the Catholic church is no exception. This book opens up a conversation that crosses the boundaries that different factions set up to close off their opinions from one another. It's one thing to preach to the choir; it's wholly another to mix up the voices and try to find some harmony among them.

The Great American Story

Better than any fiction is the real story of Election Night 2008. Anyone who did not watch both of these speeches last night should make sure to do so. Both Senator McCain and President Elect Obama showed the class and grace of true leaders.

President Elect Obama's Acceptance Speech:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/11/04/video.transcript/index.html

Senator John McCain's Concession Speech:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/11/04/video.transcript/index.html

Dia de los Muertos

Here are three titles in honor of Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), also referred to All Souls Day. This is a day, in Mexican culture and also in many religious traditions, to celebrate the lives of loved ones who have died and to pray for and honor them. These books do a little of both. Death figures predominantly in all of them and, therefore, there is a sense of sadness underlying each one, but they also reveal great beauty, love, and a celebration of life. These books offer readers what is best about fiction: the imaginative journey through all of life's possibilities.

We're in Trouble by Christopher Coake

I have found it difficult to describe this book of short stories in the past because while the characters in each of them somehow must deal with the idea of death, either through personal loss or vicariously through someone else, the stories rise well above being simply depressing tales of the hardest part of human life. They are worth reading, thinking about, and even cherishing, but I think the following quotation about the book does it more justice than I can:

"Each of the seven stories in this extraordinary debut collection shows love staring at the face of death--an encounter that elicits either the best or the worst in these unforgettable characters....With the complexity, depth, and narrative drive of a novel, these stories show love darkening and persevering as it is tried by the cold fact of death....Christopher Coake makes us feel the truth of his characters' lives and transforms it into cathartic art." Book Jacket

Love is at the heart of these stories, and this is what makes them compelling rather than sensational, thoughtful rather than depressing.

The Brief History of the Dead by Kevin Brockmeier

This novel can be classified as science fiction, because it takes place in the future, but not necessarily one very far removed from our present. The world as we know it is still recognizable, and other than enhanced technology has not changed all that much. Two stories run parallel to each other in the novel. One is the story of The City, which is the place where those who have died live and work and exist in a rather normal way until the last people who remember them in the land of the living "cross over" to The City themselves. In alternating chapters, we follow the story of Laura Byrd, who is trapped alone in a scientific research station on Antarctica. The connection between the two plot lines becomes clear to the reader relatively early in the novel, though the characters do not see it until closer to the end.

Barbara Hoffert of Library Journal offers a nice, short description of The Brief History of the Dead: "Inhabitants of the City eat at Jim's sandwich shop and read Luka Sims's mimeographed News & Speculation Sheet--never mind that they are all deceased. They've made the crossing--each person's [sic] is uniquely beautiful--and they don't know what happens next. People do disappear, and it is surmised that you remain in the City as long as you remain in the memory of someone left behind. Hence the concern when people start vanishing in droves....Beautifully written and brilliantly realized, this imaginative work from [Kevin Brockmeier] delivers a startling sense of what it really means to be alive. Highly recommended."

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

The Book Thief is ultimately the tale of Leisel Nenninger, a foster-child of a German couple who live in a small town during height of World War II. Leisel is the book thief of the title. She and her family, like many Germans during that time, are caught up in the politics of war and find themselves performing acts of heroism of which they never, ever would have thought themselves capable.

What makes Leisel's story unusual, however, is the narrator of the novel, who is Death himself. But in Zusak's hands, Death is not a monster or vengeful or necessarily frightening. Death is a being who, as he tells us, is

"in all truthfulness attempting to be cheerful about th[e] whole topic [of death], though most people find themselves hindered in believing me...Please trust me. I most definitely can be cheerful....Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me."

The reason Death is even telling us the story of Leisel--one of the millions of stories of the Holocaust that could be told--is that every so often he is profoundly struck by one of the many lives he has seen, and he cannot forget it. He says of Leisel, "Yes, often, I am reminded of her, and in one of my vast array of pockets, I have kept her story to retell. It is one of the small legion I carry, each one extraordinary in its own right. Each one an attempt--an immense leap of an attempt--to prove to me that you, and your human existence, are worth it."

In his review of the novel, Philip Ardagh of the Guardian praises Zusak for this choice because "[i]t gives a unique and compassionate voice to a narrator who can comment on human's inhumanity to human without being ponderous, 'worthy' or even quite understanding us at times." I was so happy to read this description because though I very much loved this novel, it has always been very difficult to describe to other people how a novel narrated by Death could be at all worth reading. Or how I could see this narrator as at all sympathetic. Death has a dilemma, and it's not one that is so far removed from questions we sometimes ask ourselves. Death wants to understand us: "I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race--that rarely do I ever simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant." By telling us the wonderous story of the book thief, Death is trying to make sense of it. How can the story of this one little girl offer proof that we, that humans, are worth it? Leisel has a great deal to offer us as we try to answer this question.

Ardagh has the highest praise for this novel:

A number one New York Times bestseller, The Book Thief has been marketed as an older children's book in some countries and as an adult novel in others. It could and - dare I say? - should certainly be read by both. Unsettling, thought-provoking, life-affirming, triumphant and tragic, this is a novel of breathtaking scope, masterfully told. It is an important piece of work, but also a wonderful page-turner. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

In one of my other posts, I said that one of my criteria for a Great Book is that it leaves me thinking about it long after I have turned its last page and that it is a book to which I can return, flip through at random, and find something beautiful on any page. The Brief History of the Dead and The Book Thief are two novels that, for me anyway, fit that definition of Great Books.

Publish and Perish by James Hynes

Publish and Perish: Three Tales of Tenure and Terror by James Hynes is the perfect book of eerie, Halloweenesque stories for English majors and academic geeks everywhere. The three novellas in this book are both humorous and creepy, as egotistical professors go to excessive lengths to promote their own careers or to thwart the rising stars of other academics. But, in the end, as with all satisfying good vs. evil plots, those nasty, back biting, unscrupulous louts must live with the consequences of their actions.

In "Queen of the Jungle", while Paul struggles to publish articles in order to prove that he is not a washed up hack, his successful wife, Elizabeth, is on the fast track to tenure at a prestigious university. While she lives in Chicago during the week gaining praise and stature in her field, Paul finishes up his temporary assignment at a second rate school. When he begins an affair with a student in another department, he fails to understand just how devoted Elizabeth's cat, Charlotte, is to her absent owner. With preternatural instinct, Charlotte seeks revenge on Elizabeth's behalf.

In "99", anthropologist Gregory Eyck, whose cockiness cost him his reputation and once stellar career, tries to re-establish himself as the celebrity host of a BBC television series about the cultural wonders of the world. While researching the market potential of an episode shot in a village near Stonehenge that has its own, less well known standing stones, Eyck unintentionally becomes more involved with traditional values and beliefs of its odd villagers than anyone would wish.

In "Casting the Runes", young history professor Virginia Dunning learns first hand the dangers of crossing an older, more experienced professor who is desperate to save his floundering academic career. Mysterious occurrences plague Virginia for months after she refuses to allow old Professor Victor Karswell to take credit for her scholarship. Will she meet the tragic fate of the last graduate student who stood up to Karswell's Machiavellian demands? With her sanity, and perhaps her very life, at stake, Virginia must figure out how to defeat Professor Karswell before he defeats her.

Publish and Perish certainly has a very narrow niche audience, as does Hynes's other vastly entertaining book about life an academia, The Lecturer's Tale. But any reader who has been in the company of an insufferable professor or who has doodled time away during an incomprehenisible lecture on circular academic theory will get a kick out of these books. Hynes has a gift for satirizing the academic world that probably makes him unpopular in some circles, but offers a good chuckle for readers who have struggled (or who might still reside) in the lowest floors of the Ivory Tower.

Choices

Not too long ago, someone asked how I choose the books I read. I think it probably came up because, as is evidenced by this blog, there appears to be no rhyme nor reason to my choices. Sometimes I choose a book because a friend recommended it to me, as was the case with The Nine by Jeffrey Toobin or Bel Canto by Ann Patchett. I often base a selection purely by judging the cover of a book, as happened with The Camel Bookmobile by Masha Hamilton, Lady Lazarus by Andrew Foster Altschul, and This Book Will Save Your Life by A.M. Holmes.

Other books I come to because of interviews I have heard on NPR by either Terry Gross (God in the Whitehouse by Randall Balmer) or Nancy Pearl (Amy and Isabelle by Elizabeth Strout). Or because I heard or read about a historical figure who interested me and who I wanted to know more about, as was the case with Nikola Tesla. The library search for him caused me to check out the novel The Invention of Everything Else by Samantha Hunt.

When I read the novel Ahab's Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund, I became interested in her fictionalized portraits of Margaret Fuller and the transcendentalist movement in New England and added them to my "to be read someday list". My favorite discovery came after I had gotten a picture book about Coco Chanel out of the library for my daughter. It was so fascinating that I searched for an adult biography of Chanel and found Chanel: A Woman of Her Own by Axel Madsen.

If I am not skipping around in the world of books from one interest to another, I am randomly acquiring new books to read from the wonderful treasure trove of thrift store bookshelves. It is incredible how rich the selection of fiction is in Seattle thrift stores. For crazy bargain basement prices I have found brand new copies of Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides, Possession by A.S. Byatt, The Worst Hard Time by Timothy Egan, and many more which are sitting around my desk in piles waiting to be opened.

So...in answer to that question of where I find my books...I think the best answer is that I don't really find the books; they always happen to find me.

Between Books

I am facing an unusual situation at the moment: I'm in a book lull. Nothing has grabbed my attention enough over the past week or so to make it past the Nancy Pearl 50 pages test. Her philosophy is that if a book has not really peaked her interest by the time she's 50 pages in, then she puts it down. I used to trudge through books that were so-so all the time, but setting a limit like this has been immensely freeing, and it suits the underlying idea behind this blog: I only write about books that I enjoy. (Okay, I fudged it a bit for David Guterson's The Other, but there was enough worthy material in that one to keep me with it all the way to the end.)

So, bear with me. Between my ever so lengthy holds list at the library and the stacks of unread books throughout the house, there is something that will get me back in the swing of things in short order. I can feel it!

In the meantime, if you want a fun, modern gothic novel that is perfect for fall evenings, try The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. It's got it all: mysterious letters delivered by strangers in the dark of night, a manor house on the moors, murder, ghosts, false identities, a bookish young woman determined to find answers...perfect fun for late October.