The Round House by Louise Erdrich

One of the most revered novelists of our time—a brilliant chronicler of Native-American life—Louise Erdrich returns to the territory of her bestselling, Pulitzer Prize finalist The Plague of Doves with The Round House, transporting readers to the Ojibwe reservation in North Dakota. It is an exquisitely told story of a boy on the cusp of manhood who seeks justice and understanding in the wake of a terrible crime that upends and forever transforms his family. Riveting and suspenseful, arguably the most accessible novel to date from the creator of Love Medicine, The Beet Queen, and The Bingo Palace, Erdrich’s The Round House is a page-turning masterpiece of literary fiction—at once a powerful coming-of-age story, a mystery, and a tender, moving novel of family, history, and culture.

The Round House was the first Louis Erdrich novel I have read and I’m already looking forward to reading more. In this novel, Erdrich examines the Ojibwe's modern-day culture, the discrimination they face, and the conflicts and complications of their justice system as a result of jurisdiction. Specifically, if a crime is committed against an Ojibwe member on non-Native American soil, the crime cannot be tried in the Ojibwe legal system. When I first heard about this novel I pegged it for a powerful book that could expose me to a way of living with which I was not very familiar and Erdrich delivered. This is a novel that will pull at your heart strings and make you reconsider the rights and tangle of laws surrounding Native Americans.                                                                                                   

"We want the right to prosecute criminals of all races on all lands within our original boundaries... What i am doing now is for the future, though it may seem small, or trivial, or boring, to you."

First and foremost, The Round House is a coming-of-age story narrated by thirteen-year-old Joe Bazil, who is young enough to not yet be a man but too old to be considered just a kid. We as readers piece together and understand details of the crime and his family’s unfolding just as he does. There is something to be said about an innocent narrator who doesn’t deserve the reality with which he is faced and the amount of sympathy we as readers feel. 

The title of the book itself refers to a sacred meeting place, where the Ojibwe gather to worship and hold significant gatherings. In this novel, the Round House is also the scene of a heinous crime. (Not a spoiler – this is revealed in the first 100 pages.) The fact that sacred space saw such a horrible crime highlights the underlying Ojibwe traditions that were violated as a result of this crime, in addition to the Bazil family itself.

Among other things, I enjoyed that Erdich weaves details of the traditions and stories of Ojibwe culture into the narrative. In the novel ghost expose themselves and wendigos seek to possess humans. Erdich also emphasizes the tremendous support extended families provide for one another in this culture. All in all, this is a story about injustices and how a family pulls together in the wake of tragedy. It’s a story of redemption and speaks to the prejudice many Native American women face across our nation. If you do read this novel, and I recommend that you do, be sure to read the afterward; it details sobering statistics that I think would be considered spoilers if I included them here.

Publisher: Harper, 2012

The Lonely Polygamist by Brady Udall

He could see the framed needlepoint above the mantel, Families Are Forever, and wondered if the slogan was meant as a promise or a threat.

I picked up The Lonely Polygamist after I saw it on many “best of” lists and read a few favorable reviews from bloggers whose opinions I trust. I should tell you that after reading the first 300 pages I put the book down for a week or so and started a new book because I needed a break. Not in the "this book is so overwhelming I need a break" sense but in the "this book is never ending" sense. In the end I’m glad I went back and finished it – it was enjoyable – but it felt a little too dragged out and meandering. In its entirety, the novel could have easily been condensed to 400 pages or so, as opposed to a little over 600.

This book is entertaining and has flashes of comedy but while reading, there was a part of me that felt like an outsider looking in. I knew it was funny but I didn’t laugh. It was almost like I felt removed from the humor somehow. Even though it was long and drawn out, there were characters and instances that kept me interested. I mean, I wouldn’t have read 600 pages worth if there weren’t. Rusty was by far my favorite. I found him to be the most compelling of all the characters and mostly, I can’t help but cheer for the underdog.

Was it a fun, smart read? Yes. Maybe that’s what matters most at the end of the day. It’s chock full of fighting family members, awkward relationships, and sexually frustrated women. The book is also quite literary, as Udall throws in all sorts of tropes and metaphors. As the title implies, the novel ultimately explores one man’s loneliness and the loneliness of those close to him. I found the majority of it to be kind of endearing. It was just altogether too long. 

Publisher: W. W. Norton and Company, 2010

Moon Palace by Paul Auster

“It often happens that things are other than what they seem, and you can get yourself into trouble by jumping to conclusions.” 

Marco Stanley Fogg is an orphan, a child of the sixties, a quester tirelessly seeking the key to his past, the answers to the ultimate riddle of his fate. As Marco journeys from the canyons of Manhattan to the deserts of Utah, he encounters a gallery of characters and a series of events as rich and surprising as any in modern fiction. Beginning during the summer that men first walked on the moon, and moving backward and forward in time to span three generations, Moon Palace is propelled by coincidence and memory, and illuminated by marvelous flights of lyricism and wit. Here is the most entertaining and moving novel yet from an author well known for his breathtaking imagination.

Paul Auster is four for four with me. This is the fourth novel of his I've read and once again he delivered. This is a book that offers unlikely adventure, a bit of mystery, and a whole lot of heartache. As always, the characterization of Auster's main character is incredibly believable, but also unconventional. The plethora of characters and events Fogg is met with are whimsical and odd, but also complex and exuberant, making for a fun and intelligent read. 

As the title implies, the moon is a reoccurring symbol throughout the novel. Fogg's story begins with the summer that man first walked on the moon. In his Columbia apartment he can see the Chinese restaurant Moon Palace from his window. (A restaurant that did exist when Auster when attending Columbia.) Marco's Uncle Victor plays in a band called Moon Men and Moonlight Moods. The moon surfaces on a fortune cookie Marco opens that reads "the sun is the past, the earth is the present, the moon is the future." There are endless passages that discuss the moon and it all highlights the idea of constant change, but also constant repetition, the notion of unattainability and absence and an endless searching, for oneself, for meaning, and for a place. It also signifies the passing of time and the continual evolution and development of the self; the person we will be tomorrow may be much different from the one we know today. 

I immediately thought of Uncle Victor and his band, and in that first, irrational moment, my fears lost their hold on me. I had never experienced anything so sudden and absolute. A bare and grubby room had been transformed into a site of inwardness, an intersection point of strange omens and mysterious, arbitrary events. I went on staring at the Moon Palace sign, and little by little I understood that I had come to the right place, that this small apartment was indeed where I was meant to live.

Moon Palace also explores the meaning and implication of "fatherlessness" and the pressures of fatherhood itself. As with most Auster novels, he also examines identity and loss. I think the key to reading Auster is to not read them all at once. I like to keep a steady pace while working my way though his oeuvre. Because his novels are similar in terms of tone, character, and themes, it's best to put some time between his works. Other than that, I really don't have any complaints. This was a great read and Auster is working his way up to become one of my all-time favorite writers.

Publisher: Penguin Ink*, 1990

*This is the first edition Penguin In I've owned and I have to say they are lovely; rough-cut pages, beautiful cover art, and images from the story are incorperated on the inner flaps of the book. One image of a broken umbrella is from my favorite scene of the novel and really, it doesn't get much better than that. 

Domestic Violets by Matthew Norman

Tom Violet always thought that by the time he turned thirty-five, he'd have everything going for him. Fame. Fortune. A beautiful wife. A satisfying career as a successful novelist. A happy dog to greet him at the end of the day. The reality, though, is far different. He's got a wife, but their problems are bigger than he can even imagine. And he's written a novel, but the manuscript he's slaved over for years is currently hidden in his desk drawer while his father, an actual famous writer, just won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. His career, such that it is, involves mind-numbing corporate buzzwords, his pretentious archnemesis Gregory, and a hopeless, completely inappropriate crush on his favorite coworker. Oh . . . and his dog, according to the vet, is suffering from acute anxiety.Tom's life is crushing his soul, but he's decided to do something about it. (Really.) "Domestic Violets" is the brilliant and beguiling story of a man finally taking control of his own happiness--even if it means making a complete idiot of himself along the way.

Novels satirizing corporate America have been done many times over. I was worried the theme would feel overdone, like a reworking of a book I have already read. Lucky for me, this wasn't the case at all. Domestic Violets was a fresh take on the disillusionment of corporate america and the "40-hour prison sentence." It had me laughing out loud and really rooting for Tom. I hoped he would figure out the obstacles holding him back and keeping him from growing to his full potential. (Not only is Tom struggling in the workplace, he is also falling short in the bedroom.) I wanted to see him succeed and I wanted him to be happy. I found myself concerned with his future, his marriage, and his career. Of course Tom is flawed and we watch him make mistakes along the way, some ridiculous and some reasonable.

As it turns out, the novel is much more than a satire on corporate American. It also highlights the complications and oddness of modern family life, and the oddness of modern life itself. It's about not getting to where you thought you'd be at a certain point in your life and making the most out of where you are. It's about figuring out who you are and how you can get to where you'd like to be, and the struggles you face along the way.

I am next to her, listening to her. I want to touch her but I can’t, because she’ll wake up and I’ll have to explain this. I want to touch her, but I can’t, because I’m angry at her and she’s angry with me, and even though I love her, I don’t like her as much as I should. She’s right next to me. I’m alone and she’s alone. We have never been farther apart.

Because the central characters of this book are writers, there are a handful of jokes that center around famous authors and literary references. Those jokes were among my favorites. Overall, this is a funny and clever book. Norman's voice is fresh and cutting. I don't think it's a must read, but I did enjoy the novel very much. If you are looking for a humorous, intriguing plot, fully realized characters and some literary humor, this one is for you.

Publisher: Harper Perennial, 2011

11/22/63 by Stephen King

On November 22, 1963, three shots rang out in Dallas, President Kennedy died, and the world changed forever. If you had the chance to change the course of history, would you? Would the consequences be worth it? Jake Epping is a thirty-five-year-old high school English teacher in Lisbon Falls, Maine, who makes extra money teaching adults in the GED program. He receives an essay from one of the students—a gruesome, harrowing first person story about the night 50 years ago when Harry Dunning’s father came home and killed his mother, his sister, and his brother with a hammer. Harry escaped with a smashed leg, as evidenced by his crooked walk. Not much later, Jake’s friend Al, who runs the local diner, divulges a secret: his storeroom is a portal to 1958. He enlists Jake on an insane—and insanely possible—mission to try to prevent the Kennedy assassination. So begins Jake’s new life as George Amberson and his new world of Elvis and JFK, of big American cars and sock hops, of a troubled loner named Lee Harvey Oswald and a beautiful high school librarian named Sadie Dunhill, who becomes the love of Jake’s life—a life that transgresses all the normal rules of time.

This was my introduction to Stephen King and I wasn't sure what to expect. He's certainly been at the forefront of the literary world for quite sometime, but considering that some of the other authors who regularly make the bestsellers list over and over rub me the wrong way, I didn't know if I'd be sold. Turns out, the guy is brilliant; 11/22/63 was freaking awesome. The only thing I knew about this novel before I started it was that 1. it made the New York Times Ten Best Books of 2011 list and 2. it was about a man who traveled back in time in attempt to stop the assassination of JFK. Part of the delight of reading this book, for me, were the surprises of our main character's journey itself, not knowing what would happen next, and the nuances of King's version of time travel. Keeping this idea in mind, I am going to refrain from giving too much away in this review.

The premise of the novel is what initially drew me to this book, but in the end the reasons I adored it so much was not because it was a time travel novel (I'm a serious sucker for those) but because it was truly moving and really made me think. The idea that "the past is obdurate" gives Jake all sorts of problems when he travels back in time, as if he has to work against the universe itself to change the past. And then there is the question of the butterfly effect; by changing something in the past what will you alter in the future? Ultimately, does one's manipulation of the future prove to be worth it after its ramifications surface? How tightly are the past the present woven together and is there truly a destiny for each of us? Though the novel takes place in two different decades there are universal ideas that doesn't change over time, namely love, loss, trust and nostalgia.

“We never know which lives we influence, or when, or why.”

I enjoyed my time in the "land of ago," a time before cell phones and internet, when the soda tasted sweeter and the pies were creamier. The novel as a whole is well researched masterfully plotted. The end notes are worth reading as well. Here King explains that he started to write this novel in the 70's but set it aside after deciding it was "too soon" after JFK's assassination, choosing to return to the novel after his career was more established. He also touches on the fact that it was never 100% proven Lee Harvey Oswald was the one who killed JFK - many speculate he didn't work alone, or that he didn't have anything to do with it at all. King spent plenty of time researching these claims, citing what he believed are the most noteworthy books about the subject. After years of research, King claims he is 98% certain, sometimes 99%, that Oswald was the one who did it.

One other thing I want to metion - if you are put off by this book because of it's length, don't be. I can honestly say this novel does not feel as long as the pages it holds (849) and by the time you finish you will wish it was longer because you don't want it to be over. It has taken me longer to read a slow 300 page novel than it did for me to finish King's tome. If you are interested in the novel, just pick it up and forget its length! This book is nothing short of incredible.

A big thanks to my sister who gifted this book to me for Christmas.

Publisher: Scribner, 2011

Love Begins in Winter by Simon Van Booy

I received a copy of this collection of short stories after Book Lush hosted a giveaway of sorts (literally she just gave a huge stack of her books away to make room on her self - no tweets or signing up required, which is my kind of giveaway.) I had been hoping to get my hands on a collection of stories by Van Booy for awhile, so I was super excited to see it was available on her list of giveaway books. I'm normally not a huge fan of short stories, as I tend to gravitate and enjoy longer narrative works, but I like to sprinkle them into my reading diet nonetheless.

Unfortunately, Love Beings in Winter was not a collection that ultimately satisfied me. While there were instances of fascination and curiosity, the majority of the stories fell flat for me. Each character seemed a little too delicate and many instances too exaggerated to enjoy the meaning of the story at hand. This isn't to say that I didn't enjoy any of the stories in the collection. There was one story that I found utterly charming, and there were passages in each story that were notable; I found myself underlining more lines in this book than I do in most. It should be said that Van Booy certainly isn't lacking in ideas and he manages to convey those ideas with eloquent and sobering prose.

Children are the closest we are to wisdom, and they become adults the moment that final drop of everything mysterious is strained from them. I think it happens quietly to every one of us -- like crossing a state line when you're asleep.

But in a collection of five stories, enjoying only one just seems like it misses the mark. I can say that while I didn't abhor this book, I don't think it will stay with me for very long. I probably won't be seeking out Van Booy's other collection of short stories anytime soon, though I do love the title The Secret Lives of People in Love. However, I would be willing to give his novel, Everything Beautiful Began After, a try.

Publisher: Harper Perennial, 2009

Windows on the World by Frédéric Beigbeder

 

"this isn't a thriller; it is simply an attempt - doomed, perhaps - to describe the indescribable."

For those of you like me who never visited Manhattan prior to 9/11 (I had a sweet 16 trip planned for my birthday on September 13th, 2001, which was obviously postponed) the Windows on the World was the restaurant that sat atop the 107th story of the north tower. After Flight 11 hit the north tower, those who were in the restaurant survived the impact, but all eventually died. Beigbeder's novel Windows of the World is the fictional account of a father and his two sons who became trapped in the restaurant of the twin towers after the attacks commenced.

As you can probably guess, this novel was truly heartbreaking and incredibly moving. No one trapped above the crash site survived so at its center, this is a story about death. I decided to pick it up shortly before Christmas and wouldn't you know, it was the first book I read all year that made me cry. Aside from the poignant subject matter, Beigebeder structures the novel to emphasize the heartbreaking and catastrophic details of that tragic morning; each chapter represents one minute beginning at 8:30am and finishes when the tower falls at 10:29am. Each chapter alternates between the story of the family trapped inside the tower and the point of view of an unnamed French author, ruminating about the nature of America, childhood, 9/11, and the role of a writer. By weaving these two stories together, not only does The Windows of the World memorialize the thousands of lives lost on that tragic day, but it also reflects on what it means to be an American, both pre and post 9/11, and what it means to be human. It explores themes of love and redemption; what we may do differently when faced with death and what becomes important when the end of your life is imminent.

What I wanted to tell my sons was that you should never stay with someone you don't love; that you should only be faithful to love and love alone; that you should tell society to piss off as often as possible.

The novel as a whole is bizarre and disjointed (as many post-modernist French novels are), but also incredibly powerful and unique. Though certain passages are perhaps brash, self-indulgent, and controversial, the novel is captivating and incredibly philosophical. It will have you reflecting on your own life and the nature of literature itself.

Publisher: Miramax Books, 2004

A big thanks to my friend Ben for gifting this book to me.

Farewell Summer by Ray Bradbury

"Because growing old isn't all that bad. None of it is bad if you have one thing. If you have the one thing that makes it alright."

I picked this up at Half Price Books at the beginning of the summer after I noticed it on the staff recommendations shelf. The last time I did that at B&N, it ended badly. However, I figured (a) I can always trust Ray Bradbury and (b) I trust the people over at HPB over Tom and my local B&N. I wanted to save this book until the end of summer was nearing - for obvious reasons - and I'm happy I did. It turned out to be a beautifully written, unique meditation on time and aging. 

During an Indian summer in the Midwest a group of boys organize a small civil war against the older adults in their community to "keep living" and resist growing old. Soon the boys realize it's not their elders who are the enemy; it's time itself. In an effort to stop time, the boys plan to destroy the clock at the heart of the city, convinced this will keep time at a standstill. What ensues is an understanding of life and time, aging and dying, and how our outlook of it makes all the difference.

The clock moved silently. And now he knew that it had never ticked. No one in the town had ever actually heard it counting to itself; they had only listened so hard that they had heard their own hearts and the time of their lives moving in their wrists and their hearts and their heads.

Bradbury conveys the point of view of the young boys with accuracy and whimsy. It didn't feel contrived or overwrought, but unique and nostalgic. Farewell Summer examines our reluctance to grow up and let go of our childhood, regardless of the fact that we don't really have a choice. The novel also suggests that while it's meaningful to remember your past, it's important to understand the future holds just as much promise.

'It's all how you look at it,' said Tom. 'My gosh, think of all the things you haven't even started yet. There's a million ice cream cones up ahead and ten billion apple pies and hundreds of summer vacations. Billions of things waitin' to be bit or swallowed or jumped in.'

This is why you can never go wrong with Bradbury. I enjoyed this novel to pieces. As it turns out, this book is part of a trilogy, which I didn't discover until I was 50 pages into the book and didn't want to stop. So I've got to track down Dandelion Wine (1957) and Something Wicked This Way Comes (1962). Also, thank you to the HPB staff member who brought this book to my attention, and I'm sorry I didn't catch your name.

Publisher: Harper Voyager, 2006

On Beauty by Zadie Smith

I bought this novel at the end of spring without knowing much about Zadie Smith or her novels. I knew On Beauty had been shortlisted for the Booker and won the Orange Prize, but aside from that I didn't know what to expect. After I posted about my book purchase back in April, Greg from The New Dork Review of Books commented that "On Beauty is very good, but it's even better if you have a working knowledge of Howards End by E. M. Forster." Well, I don't typically ignore that sort of advice, especially when it comes from someone whose literary taste I trust. So I went out and bought Howards End and then I read it aaaand while I won't go down in my top ten list of classics, I could not be happier that I listened to Greg because my understanding of Howards End contributed quite a bit to my understanding of On Beauty. Not only that, but Smith's reworking of the classic novel left me in awe.

So the first thing I will tell you is if you want to read this book you should really take Greg's advice as well and read Howards End. The two books are similar in themes and structure, but then again they are really very different. Forster's novel examines two interconnected families who exist in the Edwardian era; a time when the class system in England was so disordered that social upheaval ensued. Smith's work examines a different pair of conflicting and interconnected modern families who hold opposing values but exist under the same community, that of the fictional Wellington college. While the reworked implications of Smith's novel are anything but subtle, they function in a unique and contemporary way that leaves much to think about.

Stop worrying about your identity and concern yourself with the people you care about, ideas that matter to you, beliefs you can stand by, tickets you can run on. Intelligent humans make those choices with their brain and hearts and they make them alone. The world does not deliver meaning to you. You have to make it meaningful...and decide what you want and need and must do. It’s a tough, unimaginably lonely and complicated way to be in the world. But that’s the deal: you have to live; you can’t live by slogans, dead ideas, clichés, or national flags. Finding an identity is easy. It’s the easy way out.

At its heart, On Beauty examines the cultural implications of modern-day diversity as well as the heavy complications that result from human emotions. Smith identifies and explores contemporary feminist anxieties and while she doesn't offer any concrete solutions, she does imply its future is hopeful. We are introduced to vivid characters, each with a distinct voice that Smith conveys in a humorous and compassionate tone. Above all, Smith explores our ever dynamic and diverse ideologies in regards to politics, family life and our connections with others. Highly recommended.

Publisher: Hamish Hamilton ,2005

Middlesex by Jeffery Eugenides

I hadn't gotten old enough yet to realize that living sends a person not into the future but back into the past, to childhood and before birth, finally, to commune with the dead... In this life we grow backwards.

When I picked up this book I was expecting to read a narrative about a hermaphrodite. On the surface that is what I got, however it turned out to be much more than that. Middlesex is Eugenides' magnum opus, a grand narrative that weaves the story of three generations of Greek-Americans into an unforgeable piece of literature. The synopsis of this novel claims it is a "reinvention of the American epic" and I think that is an accurate description. The work as a whole felt organic and pieced together many working parts so perfectly that I was left in awe.

The novel is preoccupied with the idea splits and divides; within our identity, our desires, our families, our culture and our place in the world. Our narrator, Calliope (or Callie, and later Cal) is a personification of this divide and inhabits the vulnerable threshold of these boarders. Among other things, he is divided between mind and body, between reason and passion. As the title implies, Middlesex raises questions about gender identity and removes the preconceived notions that these gender distinctions are black and white. It examines the difference between gender and sex, and the extent to which these identities are socially molded verses genetically inherited. In what capacity do our genes dictate our destiny?

Parents are supposed to pass down physical traits to their children, but it's my belief that all sorts of other things get passed down to: motifs, scenarios, even fates.

Eugenides also highlights the theme of escape and the anonymity of recreation it allows. He explores this idea on many levels, from escaping one's homeland to escaping one's body and finally, escaping life (in death) and its implications:

Out in these streets people were embroiled in a thousand matters, money problems, love problems, school problems. People were falling in love, getting married, going to drug rehab, learning how to ice-skate, getting bifocals, studying for exams, trying on clothes, getting their hair cut, and getting born. And in some houses people were getting old and sick and were dying, leaving others to grieve. It was happening all the time, unnoticed, and it was the thing that really mattered.What really mattered in life, what give it weight, was death.

This is truly an amazing book. If you haven't already read it, I highly recommended you do so. I should also mention this would be a great choice for a book club, as I feel there is much to discuss. Middlesex won the Pulitzer Prize in 2003.

Publisher: Picador, 2002

Interperter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri

Lahiri has a serious gift for telling a story with elegance and wisdom. Interpreter of Maladies is a collection of nine short stories, each with a focus on Indian culture and what it means to be a foreigner. Normally I'm not a big fan of short story collections, but after I read The Namesake I wanted to explore more of Lahiri's works. I was not disappointed. Each story details the immigrant experience in a unique way. Among my favorites were "A Temporary Matter," "Interpreter of Maladies,""Sexy," "Mrs. Sen's" and "The Treatment of Bibi Haldar".

While each story can stand alone and depicts different view of the Indian American, they also work well in a collection as they are strongly connected in themes and motifs. Lahiri examines the subject of an immigrants identity in terms of it's mutability and disconnectedness; can an immigrant maintain his or her cultural identity while also adapting to their new, foreign lives? And if so, to what extent does this involve resistance to their new life, and at what cost? Is the formation of multiple identities, or even broken identities, worth the struggle?

While astronauts, heros forever, spent mere hours on the moon, I have remained in this new world for nearly thirty years. I know that my acheivement is quite ordinary. I am not the only man to seek his fortune far from home and I am certainly not the first. Still, there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have traveled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination.

The stories in Lahiri's collection are both eye-opening and heartbreaking. I'd recommended this book to anyone interested in gaining a greater understanding of today's immigrant experience. Interpreter of Maladies won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 2000.

Publisher: Mariner Books, 1999

Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami

This was my first Murakami and after Ben from Dead End Follies told me Norwegian Wood was a good place to start with this author, I jumped right in. Now I know what all the fuss is about. I enjoyed this novel more than any other book I have read this year. I was worried the novel would be extremely complex, but it's actually quite straightforward and accessible.

Norwegian Wood introduces us to Toru Watanabe, a man who recalls his freshman year of college in Tokyo when he hears The Beatles song Norwegian Wood on a plane; a year filled with complicated relationships and psychological instability, a year he experienced feelings "he would never know again".

On the surface Norwegian Wood is a love story, a very organic one at that. Put simply, Toru is caught between two women; one of his past that remains in his present, and one that can propell him into the future:

I have always loved Naoko, and I still love her. But there is a decisive finality to what exists between Midori and me. It has an irresistible power that is bound to sweep me into the future. What I feel for Naoko is a tremendously quiet and gentle and transparent love, but what I feel for Midori is a wholly different emotion. It stands and walks on its own, living and breathing and throbbing and shaking me to the roots of my being.

But it's really much more than just a love story. It's about memory and the memory of love, and how it stays with us even when the one we love is gone. It's about coping with death and sorrow, and understanding life while trying to find your place in this imperfect the world. It's about loneliness and isolation and the innate human desire to form unique relationships.

Sometimes I feel like a caretaker of a museum - a huge empty museum where no one ever comes, and I'm watching over it for no one but myself.

A high-five goes to Ben for this one - a remarkably inimitable read.

Publisher: Vintage International, 1987
Translated by Jay Rubin

Falling Man by Don DeLillo

He stood and felt something so lonely he could touch it with his hands.

Don DeLillo is one of my favorite postmodern writers. He portrays modern-day America in a way that makes me question our priorities and culture. He plays with themes of consumerism, mass media, interconnectedness and the human ability to create meaningful relationships. Falling Man explores post-9/11 New York. The title refers to the image of a man who fell from the twin towers (an image that is also used in Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close). In DeLillo's novel we see a performance artist who mimics this pose as he dangles from a harness around areas throughout Manhattan. Of course the image of the falling man gives those who see it a feeling of unspeakable dread:

There were people shouting up at him, outraged at the spectacle, the puppetry of human desperation, a body's last fleet breath and what it held. It held the gaze of the world, she thought. There was an awful openness of it, something we'd not seen, the single falling figure that trails a collective dread, body come down among us all.

As this image repeatedly inserts itself into the lives of New Yorkers, the novel follows two narratives; one of a family who is trying to rebuild their lives after the attack and one of a 9/11 terrorist who prepares for the attacks. The post-traumatic recovery of this family is almost as heartbreaking as a glimpse into the life of a terrorist. The family struggles to make sense of their new world just as they struggle to understand one another.

But then she might be wrong about what was ordinary. Maybe nothing was. Maybe there was a deep fold in the grain of things, the way things pass through the mind, the way time swings in the mind, which is the only place it meaningfully exists.

DeLillo's poignant novel implies that we will continuously have to recover from the attacks as they will haunt us forever. Just as the falling man's image will continue to resurface, so will the memory of the atacks. However, rather than focus on the attacks themselves, DeLillo explores how they changed America and the daily lives of Americans. He draws significant comparisons to the "before" world that we knew to the "after". Just as 9/11 itself was chaotic, so were the lives of many American's after that day and for years to come. People struggled to understand the event and then struggled to understand themselves.

I don't know this American anymore. I don't recognize it. There's an empty space where America used to be.

DeLillo builds many layers into this story which makes it seem disjointed and fragmented. I think this structure serves to reinforce the emotions and understanding of the attacks and it's aftermath: haunting, confusing and utterly heartbreaking.

Publisher: Scribner, 2007

Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer

Everything Is Illuminated is Jonathan Safran Foer's first novel. Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close (Safran's second novel) was my favorite read of 2010 and of Foer's two works, I've got to say I enjoyed his later work more than his first. However, that's not to say Everything Is Illuminated should be missed. Like EL&IC, this is a truly powerful story that I won't soon forget.

Foer has a knack for creating unique and memorable characters. In Everything is Illuminated we meet Alex, a Ukrainian who struggles to speak English (he tells us "my second tongue is not so premium"), yet acts as a translator for the character named Jonathan Safran Foer - a young American Jew in search of a woman, Augustine, who may have saved his grandfather from the Nazis. Alex offers a lot of comic relief, as his spoken English sounds more like a misplaced thesaurus than the colloquially spoken English Americans often hear.

Foer combines a few different stories into this one book - that of Alex and Jonathan, as narrated by Alex and his broken English, and their search for Augustine and also the story Jonathan the character is writing. Then there are a series of reflective letters between Alex and Jonathan throughout. The novel as a whole evoked many different emotions, particularity the story the character Jonathan Safran Foer is writing that centers around Brod. It's both beautiful and heartbreaking, detailing the life of a girl who struggles to find happiness:

She felt a total displacement, like a spinning globe brought to a sudden halt by the light touch of a finger. How did she end up here, like this? How could there have been so much - so many moments, so many people and things, so many razors and pillows, timepieces and subtle coffins - without her being aware? How did her life live itself without her?

Everything is Illuminated explores themes of identity and memory, and how our relationship with the past affects our everyday present. It challenges preconceived notions of what it means to be intelligent and also offers a bold vision of the Holocaust. It questions what love really means and asks how we know when it's real:

If there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will give it walls, and we will furnish it with soft, red interiors, from the inside out, and give it a knocker that resonates like a diamond falling to a jeweler's felt so that we should never hear it. Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does.

This book is anything but ordinary. As I mentioned earlier, it is a complex work of post-modern fiction, but well worth the effort. If you are looking for a book that will move you and encourage you to think about ideas in a new way, this is it.

Publisher: First Perennial, 2002

The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri

I finished this book last week on my flight to California. Then I left it with a friend to read. I'm usually pretty good about writing reviews within 24 hours of finishing the novel, but since I was on my way to a 5-day bender weekend in the South Bay, this wasn't the case. I also don't have the novel in front of me and I am working on lack of sleep from my red-eye back home last night so be warned, this review will be lacking.

So, here is what I can tell you: I loved this book. Adored it. It is all at once captivating, heartwarming and depressing. The Namesake examines the immigration experience of a Bengali family with a focus on the second generation. It speaks to the psychological disjucture and cultural displacement that is associated with belonging to two very different cultures.

For being a foreigner, Ashima is beginning to realize, is a sort of lifelong pregnancy—a perpetual wait, a constant burden, a continuous feeling out of sorts. It is an ongoing reponsibility, a parenthesis in what had once been ordinary life, only to discover that that previous life has vanished, replaced by something more complicated and demanding. Like pregnancy, being a foreigner, Ashima believes, is something that elicits the same curiosity from strangers, the same combination of pity and respect.

From the very start of The Namesake Lahiri's prose sucked me in. It is unusually dispassionate - but the tone doesn't work to disassociate the reader. Rather, I felt even more captivated - at times forgetting I was even reading.

Lahiri won the Pulitzer Prize in 2000 for her short story collection The Interpreter of Maladies, which is a book I am going to track down asap. I really can't recommend The Namesake enough. It's a fascinating story that opened my eyes to the struggles of immigration and they cultural conflicts it imposes.

Publisher: Houghton Mifflin, 2003

Who Will Run The Frog Hospital? by Lorrie Moore

The subject of growing up is universal. We all grow up (albeit some faster than others) and share many of the same adolescent experiences: the feeling that the laws aren't real and we are free to create our own rules, the indescribable desire for a developed chest and the hopeless, carefree existence full of naivety - a time when you weren't sure who you really were or what life had in store for you; a time when you made mistakes and began to learn more truths than you cared to.

I didn't know my parents well enough to be doing this to them, inflicting such an episode upon their lives. I realized that it was harder to endure the wrath of disappointment of people who've been kept from you, and form whom you've kept yourself, than it was to endure it from the people whom you knew best.

I enjoyed Who Will Run The Frog Hospital? so much because Moore does a fantastic job recreating these adolescent experiences in a way that brought me back to the days of my teenage angst and uncertainty. It's a novel that poignantly conveys nostalgia for the wild, carefree times of our youth. But it's more than just a coming of age story; it also examines the brevity of fast friendships and what it means to go back home.

Publisher: Vintage, 1994

Let The Great World Spin by Colum McCann

Quite simply, this book is what I consider to be a masterpiece. It won the National Book Award in 2009 which means a lot has been said about this book. It's been featured on other blogs and has been reviewed by important newspapers. Most of these outlets have written about this book more eloquently and more intelligently than I could. So I direct you to the above links, but I will say this: Colum McCann's Let The Great World Spin is a book that I will recommend over and over again to readers who appreciate literary fiction. It is a book that explores the human condition and our connection to each other and the world in such a beautiful and truthful way and I will not forget it for a long time.

Publisher: Random House, 2009

Let The Great World Spin: First Impressions

I am currently about half-way though Colum McCann's Let The Great World Spin and I'm blown away. First of all, the book is nothing what I expected it to be. I thought it was a fictional take of the true story of the French acrobat who walked across the gap between the twin towers on a tightrope in 1974. While the story includes this tightrope walker, I would hardly call him a major character. Rather, his story is what seems to be the connecting thread joining McCann's other characters together. Secondly, this novel is composed of so many truths that relate to me that I can't help but love every word. It's full of so many layers I am already planning to reread it.

In short, I am finding Let The Great World Spin to be altogether brilliant and I don't want it to end. I'm going to savor this one.

Ms. Hempel Chronicles by Sarah Shun-lien Bynum

I bought this book after Sarah Shun-lien Bynum was named one of the top 20 Under 40 authors by The New Yorker. But, prior to purchasing it, I added it to my TBR after J. Franz told me to read it. Yep, sometimes I'm just that susceptible to the subtle yet incredibly transparent world of book marketing. But, however I came about it I'm glad I did because this book is delightful.

This is a book that examines the business of growing up: the hesitation, the uncertainty, the awkwardness and the idea that the growing up doesn't stop even after you are labeled an adult. Ms. Hempel Chronicles also explores the complications of adulthood and a longing to return to a simpler time - that of one's childhood. The overall tone is positive, which is a refreshing departure from what I have been reading lately. Bynum has a gift for relating peculiar moments and youthful realizations in a humorous and pleasant way.

How bizarre. That person, and the person she was now? They wouldn't even be friends.

Ms. Hempel Chronicles is structured in eight stories that alternate between Ms. Hempel's own childhood and the stories from her classroom as an English teacher in her mid 20's. The stories each relate and connect to one another to unravel the curious tendencies and peculiar situations of one's youth. Bynum also depicts the unpredictable moments that are associated with teaching middle school, as well as the astuteness and composure that is necessary to hold down such a job.

If you are looking for a read that isn't too heavy, but is still smart and entertaining, I'd recommended this.

Publisher: Mariner Books, 2008

The Year of the Flood by Margaret Atwood

I've been on a bit of a Margaret Atwood kick lately. After each handful of books I read by other authors, I start craving some Margaret Atwood. She always delivers with a unique and engrossing novel. For every Atwood novel I've read this year, I feel like I've gotten to know a new side of the author.

The Year of the Flood is Atwood's followup to Oryx and Crake, which I loved. Like Oryx and Crake, The Year of the Flood takes place in a world that is nothing like the one we know, but is so realistic and deeply complex that you can't help but be sucked into it. We are brought back to the same world Atwood portrayed in Oryx and Crake, but offered a refreshingly new perspective. I don't think I can explain this world that would make much sense, but it includes The Gardeners as led by Adam One, Painballers who are excruciatingly punished for their bad behavior, the corrupt and tyrannical CorpSeCorps, and Ren and Toby, two women who have survived the "waterless flood" and are the alternating narrators of the novel. While Oryx and Crake focused more on why the world became a disease ridden planet and its players, The Year of the Flood examines the everyday life of the humans trying to survive in this world.

I read Oryx and Crake back in August and while that wasn't too long ago, the story wasn't fresh in my head. I found myself wishing I had read it right before The Year of the Flood because at first I felt a little lost. I kept questioning my reading comprehension and finally just went with it. About half-way through the novel different elements started to piece together and the story became quite compelling.

They Year of the Flood speaks to the all-to-familiar complications of modern day technology, genetic engineering, consumerism and authoritarian corporations. In an author's note in the back of the book, Atwood writes, "The Year of the Flood is fiction, but the general tenancies and many of the details are alarmingly close to fact." For me, this is one of the reasons this story, and the dystopians Margaret Atwood creates, are so mind-blowing. These stories seem so far removed from today's world at a glance, but upon further reflection they could very well turn into our reality.

Publisher: Bloomsbury, 2009

A note on this edition: I found this UK edition at Half Price Books and loved the cover. Lately I have been thinking I like UK cover art more than it's US counterpart. Or, as Jackie from FarmLaneBooks suggested, maybe we just want what we can't have.