Anderson, Laurie Halse (Wintergirls)

Powerful. I don't love poetic writing, probably because I have little to no use for most poetry. Poetic writing is designed to make you think as well as feel and the combination is often too much for me (polar opposites?). But Anderson's writing does more. She is able to spin a world far better than most writers with an adult audience, and perhaps it is because her works are for a more juvenile audience, but I don't think so.

It isn't the fact that she's a YA author, it's the fact that she understands her creations, gets under their skin (and in this case inside their bones), and makes you feel everything they feel. Which is completely and utterly harrowing.

I did not want to know what it felt like to be anorexic, to be so close to death most hours of the day! Or to be so afraid of life that you would want to cut it out of you. But in terms of understanding what many girls (way too many girls) are doing to themselves, it's a needed piece of literature. In fact, it should be on every high school curriculum.

Except that I think Anderson falls short towards the end. I would think a big component to understanding anorexia and bulimia is to learn what girls can do to counteract their fears and get back to eating again. There is little of that in the book, and I worry that girls looking for some hope and understanding won't find what they need here.

Holland, Julie (Weekends at Bellevue)

[An Early Reviewer copy from LibraryThing. Thanks LT!]

I now never want to go see the doctor again.

Yes, I knew doctors were fallible, but like this? The stories she tells (and which are clearly only sidebars related to the main tale) of the sneakiness, anger and most disturbing of all, the pride of these men and women that keep them from providing decent care to patients-- I just didn't want to know this. I want to know that my doctors are well-trained, alert to my problems, willing to listen to me, and not so dang heavy with the drugs.

Granted, this woman is not a general practitioner. No, sorry, she's a psychopharmacologist now. And if that isn't the hugest bunch of hooey I've ever heard! All this woman does is dispense cocktails of drugs to sad, lonely, barely mentally ill patients in a private practice three days a week. She obviously makes enough to maintain a family of four in NYC and 1-2 houses elsewhere (it's a little vague) with this farce of a job. Add to this the fact that her writing is a stunning example of someone so egotistical and narcissistic that it shines like a beacon on every page. I'm certain that a therapist should be able to see these things, especially when they're written on paper.

The Bellevue tales are truly shocking. But that's all they are. Designed to shock. I realize she thinks they're also designed to teach. Really? I'm supposed to learn how to handle myself in a psychotherapy ER by listening to you therapeutically discuss your failings as an ER doc, how you were confrontational and, frankly, emotionally abusive to your patients, something you never learned to rein in and not once realized you weren't suited to doing. Nine years it took you to realize this?! Go to the bottom of the class.

Oh, and all that blather from your prior co-workers about how they miss you and you'll never be forgotten. Yeah, that's because you took up an inordinate amount of space physically and emotionally. How could anyone forget that?

Grafton, Sue (T is for Trespass)

Grafton is pulling out all the stops for her final handful of titles in the Alphabet Mystery Series. The middle section of the alphabet was truly the pits-- all of her stories seemed used, with no fresh perspectives. Even though none of her stories make significant commentary on culture or social conventions, other than to point out yet another in a long line of nasty ways that people can dupe you, everything after "C is for Corpse" and before "R is for Ricochet" has even less redeeming value.

Although I'm not quite old enough to be in fear of the situation she sets up in this current novel, even thinking that something like this could happen to me in my dotage makes my skin crawl. As with any mystery, there are occasions while reading that stop you in your tracks, along the line of "oh, c'mon, that was a bit too facile, wasn't it?" But this is precisely where Grafton is getting better-- while she's always been a master of description, she has not been a master of moving the plot along smoothly. I think that's a difficult balance to achieve as a writer. Too much description and things dull. Too little description and you haven't the faintest what the writer is talking about.

I particularly like her last line, and it's only 4 words long. (Have I made it sound enticing enough?)

Bujold, Lois McMaster (Paladin of Souls)

The title doesn't work: a paladin is a warrior, albeit one without armor. Ista is certainly a force to be reckoned with, but a warrior? Nah.

Bujold takes a somewhat minor character from "The Curse of Chalion" and creates a story around her. It's not a stupid thing to do: Ista was enigmatic in the first book, and with a long history of madness and guilt, who could resist using her in another book? I disliked how down in the dumps Bujold made her-- didn't think it quite fit with the guilt she felt over her ancient murder/accident. She has a lot of guilt, you'd think she'd welcome any effort on the part of the gods to change that. To change anything about her current, ultra-boring life.

All the browbeating and general grumping about are finally done away with in the last 50 pages, but geez, it's just too late. 450 pages, lady! You could have done this story in 250 pages with no problem. It shocks me that it won the Hugo and the Nebula. "The Curse of Chalion" was so much the better book. I suppose that's like Whoopi Goldberg winning for "Ghost" instead of "The Long Walk Home."

I found the humor in the last 50 pages welcome, although I know others who were irritated by making a harsh situation comedic. Well, that's the Bastard for you, no?

Kington, Miles (How Shall I Tell the Dog?)

[An Early Reviewer copy from LibraryThing. Thanks LT!]

Two-thirds of the way through this book, Kington notes that a book that has only "the best bits" would be considered boring, supposedly because it would be exhausting to read. Unfortunately, I disagree because his book does not have only the best bits and is boring nonetheless.

Kington wrote this book as a series of humorous tales related to his growing pancreatic cancer. I applaud the effort of writing about this life event comically, since it can't have been easy or fun at times. But, there is, at its essence, nothing funny about cancer. So reading it you are wincing nearly the entire time, even when you're laughing.

The hardest laughs are at his description of his father-in-law, the yodeling bits, and the cards he wrote up to describe his cancer, in case people were looking leery. He clearly had a gift since there are laugh-out-loud parts, and maybe it's just that nothing is consistently humorous even to one individual. But... does he want to remembered by this (albeit lightweight) tome? I'm fairly sure I wouldn't.

Bechdel, Alison (The Essential Dykes to Watch Out For)

I've never reviewed a collection of comic strips before, and it's quite possible I never will again. But I feel it's my duty to proselytize this particular strip for two reasons: a) it reflects a lifestyle that too many people know next to nothing about and b) it is invigorating and eye-opening.

This comic is far from one-sided, and I believe that's one of its strengths. As a heterosexual myself with not as many gay friends as I might like, I'm sure I had one and only view of lesbian life before reading it. All assumed based on what I've read and what I've imagined. Well, thank you, Alison Bechdel if for nothing else than showing how extraordinarily multi-sided the lesbian culture is. Which should be absolutely no surprise to any right-thinking person but also proves how blindered we all live.

But there's more! Bechdel is trained as an academic, and she's also clearly a newshound, so on top of the culture you get a biting critique of our political world in the U.S. for the last twenty years. I dearly wish she had continued the comic if only to see what she would have written and drawn about Obama's election (her strip went on sabbatical in May last year).

I almost wish someone would make a film based on the strip. Although I'm having a tough time casting it in my head (who plays Mo? Sandra Bullock or Samantha Morton?), the characterizations are so rich and realized, it should be a snap for a screenwriter to put together a script. Why not give Bechdel a shot at it first, actually?

Larsson, Stieg (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo)

Having just come off the final GIRLPOWER episode of Buffy, The Vampire Slayer, I see clear parallels to this book-- which is all about perceptions of women and their strengths.

Poor Harriet Vanger, murdered many years ago, through a series of strange entanglements comes to the attention of a busted, soon-to-be-imprisoned corporate journalist. It's not your typical murder mystery, being wrapped up in corporate espionage and idyllic very-small-town Swedish life. (You don't expect me to read typical murder mysteries anymore anyway, do you?)

But back to the views of females-- besides Harriet, one of the main characters is Lisbeth, a young investigator. I have never seen, in print, a more sympathetic description of a person with borderline Asperger's Syndrome. In her case, she has a low capacity for social interaction, is super-smart and technically proficient, and has had enough troubles being female in her lifetime to land her in an abysmally unfair situation. It is not in any sense a classic case of a woman with "man problems," but the question of whether you could define Lisbeth as a victim is front and center. Is she? Yes. And definitely no. Really, a complex, realistic character.

If you care not a whit for espionage or Sweden or strange inter-personal relationships, read this only for the depiction of Lisbeth and you will not be sorry.

Bujold, Lois McMaster (Shards of Honor)

Why is it that I had to resort to ILL from my public library to get this highly-lauded first novel from a respected sci-fi author? For shame, for shame. All copies must have been stolen by eager fans.

I've read one other book by Bujold: The Curse of Chalion, and did not have the same problems with her pushy feminist approach in this novel. A female starship captain may not have been commonplace in this universe, but even her enemy scoffing that women could even be considered for rank in the army didn't bother me. Bujold made this fit without creating way too obvious a place for it.

Our female captain has her own set of balls, of course, falls in love with the only man who would do for her, and both of them are so full of honor and loyalty as to make you gag in sections. The intelligent writing, scenic descriptions, and complex characterizations more than make up for any failure there.

I was enamored enough that I plan on reading more of her Vorkosigan saga. Even though there will be no appearances of any of the characters from this novel. The universe itself is drawn so deftly, I'm sure not to miss them.

Thurber, James (My Life and Hard Times)

I'm not sure I agree that Thurber has been our best (American) humor writer, or our best short story writer. What about Raymond Carver? Doesn't Jon Stewart count?

Certainly, I find his writing humorous, but I also find it a bit monotonous. In this semi-autobiography, I tired easily of the bumblings in the dark. There were far, far too many of these stories. The electric car piece is hands-down the best of them all, but I feel he never achieves that level again in the "collection." His cartoons are consistently amusing, and since he started as a humorist in that arena, I wish he had further developed that.

However, it looks like I ought to try his short stories instead. Since it is mentioned in the short biography at the back of this book, I sought out "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty" and nearly died laughing. "Pocketa-queep"-- oh, my stars.

It could be that it's just too tough to write about your own life, and easier to make up someone else's. It sounds like his life was indeed difficult, at least towards the end (he went blind). While laughter is the best tonic, it felt to me as if he was either making up the humor in his strange family's turmoils or deliberately over-exaggerating it to allay the pain.

Leon, Donna (The Girl of His Dreams)

If you read back through my posts, you'll see me waxing rhapsodic on Donna Leon's novels. I'm not going to repeat myself here. Instead, I'll say, sadly, that I think Leon peaked in "Suffer the Little Children" and "Through a Glass, Darkly". Both of these offered deft social criticism as well as an entrancing mystery. This novel tries to do the same but feels tired, as if she's saying "oh, have I not written about the Rom before, ok, let me get that out of the way."

It's certainly a depressing subject, and as per Leon, she tries to provide all sides of the issue-- not making them heroes and not making them villains, which I admire. I know it's difficult for some folks to read about, so I'll point out that this novel revolves around the death of a child, in somewhat graphic detail. Not the death per se, but the aftermath, which is nearly as bad.

So, if you haven't read the two I recommend above, I'd pass this one up for those. The themes remain the same: food, family, honor and loyalty, and, Commissario Brunetti reading classical literature. Always a hoot.