3 Books Finished, One to Go, & Onward to Fall Reading

 On this tropically rainy day, I spent much of it reading, and finished my 19th book, Writers and Lovers by Lily King (2020). Casey, a young woman of 30, has been immersed in writing her first novel for the past 6 years. This book follows her through the final year of writing after a move to Boston. King shows us all of Casey's life at age 30. Her life as a waitress in Harvard Square is miserable but lavishly entertaining, her squalid apartment, her relationships, one with a man her own age and one with a famous writer just emerging from the devastation of having lost his wife. The tone, the voice, everything about this book is vibrant, super-charged with vitality, despite Casey's angst. An excellent read! The Boston setting was loads of fun.

On a much more somber note, I devoured A History of Present Illness (18) by Anna DeForest. The unnamed narrator is a young medical student, and this novel is not linear. It is actually composed of anecdotes and scenes of her encounters with the unnamed, unwritten bible of the medical profession, all the parts which are the opposite of the axiom "First do no harm." Unsurprisingly, the author is a palliative care physician as well as a neurologist and this is her debut novel. It's short, but because it's plotless, I don't think it could be called a novella. It's impossible not to identify with the medical student's introduction to surgery, autopsies, cadaver class, and end-of-life care. DeForest highlights the least humane aspects of medicine. If you have any interest in recent medical fiction, I do recommend it. The handling of controversial medical topics is unique.

And I finally finished Rumer Godden: A Storyteller's Life (17) by Anne Chisholm (1999). Godden had a fascinating life, having lived in British colonial India until 1944-45, when she was 37, at which time she moved to England. She lived in the Bay of Bengal as a child, in what is now Bangladesh, Calcutta, and during WWII lived in Kashmir. (Actually not under British control at the time she lived there.) She later made many return trips, some of them for movies made from her books. She wrote voluminously--and couldn't resist writing children's books as well. I look forward to reading many more of her novels. 

Books I'm looking forward to in September:  I am a diehard fan of Ian McEwan, so Lessons is on my list. Since it's a hefty one, I'll probably buy it. Anne Cleeves has a new Vera Stanhope novel arriving on September 6, so I'll be reading that.  

On hold now at the library is Julian Barnes's (another favorite author) Elizabeth Finch and Afterlives by Abdulrazak Gurnah, the new Nobel Prizewinner. #20 will be one of these two.

Two Reads: The Half Life of Valery K and Fellowship Point

I loved reading The Half Life of Valery K by English novelist Natasha Pulley. It’s definitely one of my top 5 reads of this year, and one of my top 2 books of this Twenty Books of Summer. It’s categorized as a work of historical fiction, which makes sense given that the setting is mainly in 1963 and 1957 in the Soviet Union. It is based on fact as reviews will tell you, but loosely. The science of radiation is factual, and was skillfully interwoven with the plot. Overall, this novel had strong science fiction overtones, which I found captivating. Goodreads rating is 4.3, and what is most unusual about that is 49 percent of reviewers gave it 5 stars. Fascinating characters that I came to love (Valery K has such a droll, understated sense of humor), and a riveting story of survival. Be prepared—it is an edge-of-your-seat kind of read. Without hesitation, this was a 5-star read for me, my 15^th book read this summer.

     Fellowship Point by Alice Elliott Dark may be long (576 pages), but I found it an excellent way to spend lots of time. Two women in their early 80s, who have spent summers on Fellowship Point, Maine, since their childhoods reflect back on their lives and deal with current dramas that enter their lives. Family relationships, romantic loves, high drama that is revealed from the distant past, and the Point itself, which they hope to preserve against their family’s wishes, all figure here. Don’t let the number of pages daunt you, the font is good-sized and there’s comfortable leading between the lines.

     Currently reading Rumer Godden: A Storyteller’s Life by Anne Chisholm and have nearly finished. That will be my 17^th read. So two weeks from today is September 1^st and I need to read three more books. Some of the books I was hoping to read are still on order at the library, so I’ll have to rummage around here to see what I find. Will I make it by September 1^st? I’d like to.

Classics Club Spin!

     Rumer Godden devoted five years to writing In This House of Brede, a story of life in Brede Abbey, a fictional, though based on fact, Benedictine monastery. Prior to writing, Godden spent years researching and thinking about writing it. Published in 1968, it is considered to be the most complex and contemplative of all Godden’s books, and many monastic critics have deemed it to be the most accurate depiction of the monastic life in fiction.

     Godden was drawn to a Benedictine monastery, Stanbrook Abbey, which at that time was located in Worcestershire (today it's in Yorkshire). Her interest in the Benedictines began with her friendship with a woman affiliated with the order. Over the years, the women of the order gave her unprecedented access to their religious celebrations and to contact with individual members.  

     As Godden learned more about the religious life at Stanbrook, she became disturbed by how inaccurately she portrayed the religious lives of the nuns and the convent in Black Narcissus (1939), her first best-selling book. (By the way, I was fascinated to learn that this book had dismal sales in the UK, but was a huge best-seller in the U.S.)

     Godden converted to Roman Catholicism in 1968, the same year that In This House of Brede was published.

     I was astonished by just how much I appreciated and enjoyed this novel. I was so sorry to leave the characters and Brede Abbey when I turned the last page and felt bereft for several days after. What most impressed me was the way Godden created such human characters, especially considering that most women in the religious life, in monasteries and convents, are so stereotyped by society and in literature. But in Brede, each character is a distinct, complex individual, each with strengths and faults, who participates in a monastic society that is also extraordinarly complex.

     I was raised a Roman Catholic, though I am no longer observant. Yet I appreciated the way Godden made the liturgical seasons, feast days, and the passing of the religious calendar as beautiful. The setting is endlessly fascinating as well, because of the Abbey’s centuries-long history and the beautiful grounds and gardens. Reading this book made me feel that I was a member of this Benedictine monastery. I was there. I could breathe there. And I learned so much.

Overloaded with Books for the Last Four Weeks of 20 Books

 Today was my day for shopping and the library. I picked up EIGHT books on hold for me. I am desperate to read them all! From a reading perspective only, I am glad that we are sweltering in the mid-80s with dewpoints that are sky-high. That means we are forced to stay indoors with the air-conditioning. I do actually hate being cooped up in summer, but with fantastic books, especially the ones I have on hand, I don't care. 

Gosh--I've started Fellowship Point by Alice Elliott Dark, which is very good. (I purchased this one.) I'm also reading a bio of Rumer Godden, which I was motivated to do after finishing In This House of Brede. (So many questions about Godden's amazing life in India and England and Kashmir.)

But then all these wonderful books tumbled out of my book bag today when I got home. The first I'm reading is The Half Life of Valery K by Natasha Pulley. The research Pulley did for this new book amazes me. Set in the Soviet Union, and highly acclaimed. Please follow the link. I don't have access to the book bag at the moment, but I will post on the rest of my Library Loot very soon.

AND SIGH! I finished The Disinvited Guest by Carol Goodman as my 14th read for the 20 Books of Summer, and it was, for me, just mediocre. I've read several of Goodman's books, of which there are many, including her debut of years ago, The Lake of Dead Languages. I like her characterizations. I like her writing. But this one, an "And Then There Were None" tale, set on a very remote northern Maine island, was just not up to par, due to a flaw with the plotting, I believe. Oh, well. I've read lots of great books this summer, so it's okay, I suppose, that this one was a disappointment.

 

A Mind-Blowing Work of Nonfiction

 

This past week I finished reading In This House of Brede by Rumer Godden, which is my Classics Club Spin book and my 12^th for The 20 Books of Summer. I’ll be reviewing it next weekend. I’m so glad I read it.

My other book finished this past week (#13) was nonfiction, The Uninhabitable Earth: Life after Warming by David Wallace-Wells, published in 2019. Each month Booklist magazine features round-ups of acclaimed titles on a given subject. In July the selection was climate-change fiction and climate-change nonfiction. So this starred nonfiction title mesmerized me the minute I started reading it. And yes, as reviewers will tell you, it is a terrifying read. We think we know about climate change and the dreaded events in our future that are already starting to happen. We think we do. But we don’t. Because the media, both on the left and the right, are subject to scientists’ “climate reticence.” Scientists have been so bashed by the media, so derided as being doomsday alarmists, etc., that they largely have scaled back what they will report to the media. But what they research, and what they say amongst themselves, in thousands of scientific peer-reviewed newsletters and research journals, is pretty horrifying. Go to the source! And that’s what journalist David Wallace-Wells has been doing for decades. An incredible one-third of his book is annotated footnotes and references for all of us to probe. The New York Times declared that The Uninhabitable Earth is doing for climate change what Rachel Carson did for pesticides in Silent Spring.  

Wallace-Wells never says we are doomed. He keeps showing us, with facts and statistics, why we are already very late in the game, and why we must move forward immediately. It is fascinating reading, will provoke anxiety and, yes, horror, but frankly, I would rather know what scientists are thinking and researching than be ignorant about the future of the planet, which we surely are if we only watch the evening news and read the newspaper. We think we’re well-informed, and fool that I am, I thought I was (damn it!), but I was not. By the way, only 223 pages of text, not counting the scads of eye-opening footnotes. A must-read, and a quick one.