Juliet, Anne Fortier

JulietAfter the death of her Aunt Rose, Julie Jacobs is given an intriguing bequest—a key to a safety deposit box in a bank in Siena, Italy. As keys do, this key unlocks the door to a future Julie could never have imagined as she discovers her connection to the star-crossed lovers who inspired William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.

Juliet is a fast-paced thriller that fans of William Shakespeare’s play will enjoy. Fortier weaves in references to Romeo and Juliet both obvious and subtle. The ending probably won’t surprise readers much, but the ride is a great deal of fun. Fortier’s research is meticulous. She brings Siena alive, both in the medieval past and present. She introduces the Tolomeis and Salimbenis, two prominent Siena families who really did have a feud. Reading this book made me want to teach Romeo and Juliet again this year, and here I thought I was a little tired of it.

I was puzzled by Fortier’s choice of Siena, when it is in fair Verona that Shakespeare lays his scene, but after doing some digging, I found the earliest references to a story involving Romeo and Juliet set the story in Siena, and Siena makes a great deal of sense with its history of feuding families and its ancient traditions, including the Palio, a horse race that originated in the Middle Ages. A sense of the connection we all have to history pervades this book. My interest in family history and in medieval history made this an enjoyable read. You’ll read reviews that compare this novel to The Da Vinci Code, which I suppose is inevitable because of the unraveling of clues bound to reveal surprising information that will upend long-held beliefs against the backdrop of a European city, but don’t let the comparisons fool you. This novel is much smarter than The Da Vinci Code, and the characters are much more fully realized. I did feel Julie’s sister Janice could be a bit of a caricature, and Eva Maria was a little over the top, but I enjoyed the other characters, especially the characters in the medieval portions of the story—Giulietta Tolomei, Romeo Marescotti, Friar Lorenzo, and the feuding Tolomeis and Salimbenis.

Anyone who enjoys Shakespeare-related fiction should enjoy this novel, but even folks who aren’t Shakespeare fans can enjoy this read.

Rating: ★★★★½

The Heretic’s Daughter

The Heretic’s Daughter: A NovelKathleen Kent has a personal stake in telling the story of Martha Carrier, who was executed for witchcraft during the Salem witch trials: she is a tenth generation descendant of Martha Carrier. The Heretic’s Daughter is a story of the witch trials told through the point of view of eleven-year-old Sarah Carrier, Martha’s daughter, who herself was one of the youngest among the accused. In fact, the real Sarah Carrier was younger than Kent’s Sarah by about five years!

Sarah describes contention against her family and the climate of Andover, Billerica, and surrounding environs prior to the witch trials. She doesn’t understand her mother’s ways, and they seem to be at odds with each other all the time. Then whispers of witchcraft start finding their way to Sarah’s ears, and before long the entire Carrier family is embroiled in the trials.

Martha Carrier
I took this picture of Martha Carrier's memorial on our trip to Salem. Click for larger version.

The Heretic’s Daughter is beautifully written and poignant. However, it’s also slow to start. The first half of the book moved slowly for me, but after the witch trials begin, the book finds its stride and moves quickly. I read the second half in one sitting. I did enjoy Kent’s portrayal of the Carrier family’s contentiousness, which does much to explain why their neighbors turn on them—and in fact, it was often contentious men and women who were accused. It’s also refreshing to read a book that seeks to portray the accused realistically instead of glorifying them as saints. It is mostly well-researched and rings true with the exception one glaring mistake—Giles Corey, one of the most famous figures in the trials because of his resistance and his major role in Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, is called Miles Corey in this book. Not only is that a strange mistake given the attention to detail Kent otherwise displays, but it’s astonishing that an an editor didn’t catch the error. However, setting that issue aside, the book itself is more accurate than Miller’s play, and I found it much more enjoyable to read, too.

I’m glad I persevered with this book through the slow beginning—which did have some beautiful passages, good description, and it laid essential groundwork—the second half of the book was worth the investment. Readers might also be interested in Maud Newton’s interview with Kent.

Rating: ★★★★☆

R.I.P. Challenge V

This book is my second book for the R.I.P. Challenge, which means I have officially finished at the level to which I committed; however, I am going to read Dracula, My Love and Wuthering Bites in the hope that I can read four books and move up a level in the challenge.

The Three Weissmanns of Westport

The Three Weissmanns of Westport: A NovelCathleen Schine’s novel The Three Weissmanns of Westport is a modern retelling of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. I first became intrigued by the novel after I heard Lois Reitzes interview Schine on Between the Lines. Here is the interview:

Cathleen Schine, author of The Three Weissmans of Westport

Schine explains in the interview that her motivation for telling the tale lay in part in the fact that in many ways, women today are as vulnerable to the same financial difficulties as the Dashwoods because of divorce. It was an interesting take. The story begins as Betty Weissmann learns her husband nearly fifty years, Joseph, plans to leave her for a younger woman, the Fanny Dashwoodish Felicity. In an argument over the apartment the Weissmanns share in the Central Park West area in Manhattan, Betty finds herself cut off from the money she has never had to worry about in the past. Meanwhile, Betty’s two daughters have troubles of their own. Schine has recast the characters into older counterparts, and I found it worked well. Annie is the Elinor figure; a librarian with two grown sons, she pines for Felicity’s brother, the novelist Frederick Barrows. Miranda is the Marianne figure, a literary agent who peddles fake memoirs and is outed by Oprah. Cousin Lou, the Mr. Middleton figure, comes to the rescue and offers the Weissmanns his cottage in Westport because they’re “like family.” The three women move in together. Miranda falls in love with the dashing young actor Kit and his son Henry. Betty mourns the death of her marriage like a true widow. Annie wonders how she is going to pay all the bills.

One of the enjoyable aspects of reading derivative works like this—modern updates or retellings—is seeing how an old story can still speak to a modern audience and can still be as fresh and as true as it ever was. I particularly liked A Thousand Acres, Jane Smiley’s retelling of King Lear for that reason. This retelling works. The situations were plausible, and the characters were flawed, but intriguing and funny and even charming enough to keep me interested. In this case, knowing Sense and Sensibility made me wonder how the author might, for instance, deal with Willoughby’s betrayal or Elinor’s introduction to Lucy Steele. It was satisfying to turn the page, then, and see it coming. For instance, as soon as Amber and Crystal walked on the scene, I thought “here come the Misses Steele.” Schine captured those two particularly well. The book has a lot of pop culture references, from James Frey, to Shamwow, to Snuggies, and more, but I wonder if these problems won’t date the book in the future. Then again, maybe it will be a snapshot of the early 21st century. Austen purists won’t like some of the changes made to the ending. I think the ending Sense and Sensibility of is one of the best endings ever. However, I liked the ending of this book. Around about the middle, I had to keep plowing through the book to see how Schine would modernize next.

Rating: ★★★★☆

This is my first book for the Everything Austen Challenge.

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The Little Stranger

The Little StrangerI have never read anything written by Sarah Waters before. I had no expectations going into this book. The art teacher at my school said I would like it, and that the last page was a doozy. If what I think happened is what happened, then she’s right.

The Little Stranger is the story of Dr. Faraday and his long-standing obsession with Hundreds Hall, the home of the Ayres family. He first encounters the family as a small child when he visits the estate as part of an Empire Day celebration. Taken with the charm of the house, its grandness, its stateliness, he prizes a small acorn decoration from a plaster border in one of the passages in the house. The next time Dr. Faraday enters the house about thirty years later, it is to treat the Ayres family’s maid Betty. Dr. Faraday gradually becomes closer to the Ayres family and even becomes indispensable. Strange things start to happen around the house: a girl is badly bitten by the otherwise docile Gyp, the Ayres family dog. Strange marks begin to appear on the walls and ceilings. Objects move. Is it the ghost of poor little Susan Ayres who died before her younger sister and brother were born? Or is it something even stranger and more mysterious?

The book is as much a gothic ghost story as it is the story of the waning of the British class system, perfectly encapsulated by Mrs. Ayres as quoted by her daughter, “She said families like ours, they had a—a responsibility, they had to set an example. She said, if we couldn’t do that, if we couldn’t be better and braver than ordinary people, then what was the point of us?” In the post-WWII setting of the novel, many of the old gentry like the Ayres family are rapidly losing their money and are unable to keep up their grand estates. Course, nouveau-riche families like the Baker-Hydes are moving into the nearby estates. Keeping Hundreds Hall going occupies all of Roderick Ayres’s time (nice touch with the literary allusion in that name). Meanwhile, Dr. Faraday has risen from a humble background as the son of a shopkeeper and former Hundreds Hall servant to become a doctor. Even as the last vestiges of the class system seem to be dying away, some parts of it hang on with a frustrating tenacity that prevents Faraday from truly advancing in the ways he hopes to.

This book has some genuinely creepy parts. I was a little spooked reading it at night. One portion late in the book concerning the haunting of Mrs. Ayres was actually scary. Readers who like a definitive ending instead of one you have to mull over and determine what you think happened—because Waters does leave it up to your interpretation—might not enjoy this book. It is slow to start, but parts of it are gripping and will keep you turning the pages. I am knocking off a star for the plodding pace in portions of this book and the fact that I didn’t like the characters very much (with perhaps the exceptions of Betty and Mrs. Ayres). It’s been a long time since I read a really good ghost story, and I enjoyed this book a great deal. I know I’ve enjoyed a book when I close it and wish I could write one like it. If you enjoy spooky ghost stories like The Turn of the Screw, Rebecca, and The Ghost Writer by John Harwood, you’ll like this book. I’ve read it is also a cousin of The Haunting of Hill House, but I haven’t read that one yet.

Rating: ★★★★☆

This book is my seventh book in the Typically British Reading Challenge. One more book and I will meet the challenge’s highest level: Cream Crackered.

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The Adventure of English

The Adventure of English: The Biography of a LanguageMelvyn Bragg’s book The Adventure of English: The Biography of a Language is a companion to the documentary series of the same name. It explores the twists and turns in the development and spread of English from its beginnings to the present day. I found it to be an entertaining read, and I certainly learned some interesting things about language that I will use in my American and British literature curricula next year. In many ways, it does seem astonishing that English has managed to become as important as it has given some of the close calls over the years: Alfred the Great’s defeat of the Danes (it was close) and 1066 just to name two. I did wish that Bragg had provided some footnotes and explained some of the etymologies he described. I can’t think of an example now that I’m reviewing, but I do recall as I read that at times I didn’t think his etymology agreed with what I read or learned elsewhere. It’s clearly in the camp of pop-history rather than scholarly writing, so perhaps readers should not expect a dissertation on the development of English going in, but it is highly readable. I did find myself lagging through the late middle of the book until I came to the section on Australian English, which I found much more intriguing than I thought I would.

It might just be me, but I found long lists of words difficult. For instance, when Bragg is describing a list of words from Old English that still appear in everyday conversation on p. 6, he chooses to list them separated by commas. It may be grammatically correct to do so, but I quickly became lost and would have preferred a chart or table. Another quibble: Bragg refers to Seamus Heaney’s translation of Beowulf several times, and while I love Heaney’s translation, Bragg obscures the fact that it’s a translation or interpretation. The first word of Beowulf in Old English is Hwæt, which Heaney translates as “So.” It has been variously translated as “Lo,” “Listen,” “What,” “Now,” and “Indeed,” among others. I really can’t explain why it bothered me that Bragg said hwæt translated as “so” without providing it within the context of a Heaney translation until the following paragraph (pp. 13-14).

The book was a mostly enjoyable diversion. I think anyone interested in the development of the English language will find it interesting. I do plan to view the companion DVD series, which we have at my school.

Rating: ★★★★☆

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Freakonomics

Freakonomics: A Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden Side of  Everything (P.S.)The faculty at my school volunteers to sponsor one summer reading selection. Students have more choices (and more eclectic choices) and can discuss a book with a faculty member they might not otherwise have the opportunity to discuss books with. We limit seminars to ten students, so popular books fill up fast. For the second year in a row, Freakonomics by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner has been one of the fastest-filling seminars. Last year it was sponsored by one of our Assistant Co-Heads who has a background in business and manages finances for our school. This year, it was sponsored by one of our social studies teachers who counts economics among his responsibilities.

The book is a fascinating look into some of the economic factors that you might not necessarily think about but that nevertheless have an impact on our lives. When I was a young teen, one of my favorite books was called Boyd’s Book of Odd Facts. I find trivia interesting, and I love learning about weird things. I wouldn’t necessarily say that Levitt and Dubner are dealing in trivia, but the book reminded me of Boyd’s Book in that I had the same feeling reading both: my verbal exclamations prompted Steve to ask me to read what I was reading. The book might be best known for its controversial stance that the passage of Roe v. Wade led to a decrease in crime in the 1990’s when the effects of unwanted children being born might first have been felt in terms of crime. While I found that chapter compelling, I was less interested in sumo wrestlers. I found the chapter on naming practices to be one of the more interesting parts of the book, but perhaps that is because I’m intrigued by naming practices.

The inclusion of some additional materials added only nominally to my enjoyment of the book. I will bet that French Roast in Manhattan wishes the extra material hadn’t been included. Overall, I would have to say the book is a light, interesting read, and I can certainly see why so many of our students are drawn to it. You can learn more about Freakonomics at its website.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Thursday Next: First Among Sequels

Thursday Next: First Among SequelsThe fifth book in Jasper Fforde’s Thursday Next series, Thursday Next: First Among Sequels, begins more than a decade after its predecessor, Something Rotten. Thursday’s son Friday is now a teenager whose thoughts seem to revolve more around his favorite group Strontium Goat than on joining the ChronoGuard—something he must do, and soon, or the world might end. And that’s the least of Thursday’s problems. She also has to deal with the two book versions of Thursday Next, a reappearance of old nemeses Aornis Hades and Felix8, and Goliath Corporation’s machinations. Worst of all, the stupidity surplus is at an all-time high, and in order to get rid of it, the government has decided to turn Pride and Prejudice into a reality show called The Bennets. It’s up to Thursday to put all things to rights.

I think this book is one of the stronger in the series. As full of literature jokes as the others, it’s also folded upon itself as Thursday has by this time had books written about her, which have spawned BookWorld Thursdays that don’t resemble herself at all—or do they? My favorite parts were some speculation that Harry Potter himself might turn up for a meeting (I won’t give it away), and a passage in which Fforde shares his own feelings about literature (I know this because he shared them at his book signing, too):

I’d been trying to explain to them just what form the BookWorld takes, which was a bit odd, as it was really only my interpretation of it, and I had a feeling that if they actually accepted my way, it would become the way, so I was careful not to describe anything that might be problematical later.

I found that passage to be a beautiful metaphor for the interpretation of literature, and it made me wonder what I might see if I traveled to the BookWorld. I am thinking a lot of squashy places to curl up and read, rain-spattered windows, and books, books, books.

I highly recommend this entire series to book lovers. The jacket blurbs recommend it to fans of Harry Potter, and it has a bit of that charm, but really it’s not like that series. It’s silly, bookish, and full of in-jokes for the well-read. You won’t be able to put them down. I can’t wait for the next Thursday Next.

So… what do you think the BookWorld looks like?

Bibliophilic Books Challenge Typically British Book Challenge

This novel is the second selection for the Bibliophilic Books Challenge and the third for the Typically British Reading Challenge. My next excursion is a trip back to Meryton to visit the Bennets of Longbourn. I haven’t been back for some time.

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