Tag: See what Ann S. Epstein Writer is reading

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Whistler: A Novel by Ann Patchett (Rated 5 – Surprise and Inevitability. Whistler: A Novel by Ann Patchett is a small quiet book about the big noisy subject of love. Love in its infinite combinations, between parents and children, spouses, siblings, humans and animals, people and their work. Love that boasts its presence and the love that “dare not speak its name.” Love that calls to us and, like Whistler, the horse of the book’s title, shows up to save us. Patchett creates unforgettable characters. Life has been kinder to some than others, yet each finds a way to survive. Some are instantly endearing: Protagonists Daphne and Eddie, a middle-aged woman who accidentally meets the stepfather who abruptly left the family when she was nine; Daphne’s considerate and down-to-earth husband Jonathan. Others, like Daphne’s birth father Buddy, set up to be villains, turn out to be mensches. And even the real baddies, Eddie’s overbearing friends Skip and Polly, merit sympathy as victims of the social norms that force people into compromising roles they wouldn’t have chosen for themselves. Patchett creates a network of ties among people brought together by chance whose relationships nevertheless feel meant to be. As a novelist myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I admire her ability to make surprise and inevitability coexist on the page. Whistler is a satisfying and deceptively deep book.

Rekindling a lost love

Why writers read: “A good book is an event in my life.” – Stendhal

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Whidbey: A Novel by T Kira Madden (Rated 5) – Impact Statement. Whidbey: A Novel by T Kira Madden, about a serial rapist named Calvin, is told from the perspectives of two victims and his mother. I read the book with trepidation, knowing it would be a trigger. Reading it took courage; writing it took guts. It’s a testament to Madden’s talent that she portrays these three women with insight, sensitivity, and authenticity. Birdie, raped while still in elementary school, chooses to live her life in the shadows. Her privacy is disrupted when Linzie, who was a young adolescent at the time of her assault, writes a memoir that becomes a best seller. Birdie retreats to Whidbey Island off the coast of Washington State to escape the unwanted attention deflected on her. Through Calvin’s trial and incarceration, his mother Mary Beth remains loving and loyal to her otherwise reviled son. Pitted against one another in this drama, each woman struggles with how she sees herself and how society defines her role. As a novelist myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), who strives to make difficult characters understandable, if not likable, I admire Madden’s ability to render each protagonist with depth and honesty; she doesn’t sugar coat the outcomes for the victims or their families. The narrative is painful to read, but worth the emotional investment. Whidbey is a gripping story and valuable book, whatever brings readers to its pages.

A fraught topic, sensitively and honestly handled

Why writers read: “Many people, myself among them, feel better at the mere sight of a book.” – Jane Smiley

My Goodreads and Amazon review of The Violet Hour by James Cahill (Rated 3) – Empty Canvas. The Violet Hour by James Cahill opens sharply, gradually fragments, and finally fizzles. The narrative purports to be a finely observed picture of today’s art market: agents and curators, collectors and critics, the artists themselves. Instead the novel is a convoluted tale of loves lost or foundering, among people about whom readers have scant reason to care. They are self-absorbed and controlling, cold and cruel, manipulative and murderous. The gratuitous sex ranges from gross to violent. As a fiber artist and novelist (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I hoped for insights into the creative process. But facing the canvas, the painter/protagonist shows an utter lack of engagement, a failure (his own judgment) to create anything of value. Presumably, that is the message of The Violet Hour — that today’s art world is devoid of artistry. However, the book itself is an empty canvas that fails to paint a picture what art should, or could, be.

An unflattering portrait of today’s art market

Why writers read: “Why are we reading, if not in hope of beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed?” – Annie Dillard

My Goodreads and Amazon Review of This Is Not About Us by Allegra Goodman (Rated 5) – A Sage Family Saga. This is Not About Us by Allegra Goodman is the saga of a three-generation Jewish family, told from multiple perspectives. The tale opens when the youngest of three sisters, Jeanne, dies at the age of 74 and her two older sisters, Helen and Sylvia stop speaking to each other. Sylvia, a gifted baker, has the audacity to bring an apple cake to the shiva, using a recipe attributed to Helen, a terrible baker. The sisters’ feud has implications for their children and grandchildren, each of whom is wrestling with their own place in the world, be it marriage, parenthood, career, and/or simply growing up and growing older themselves. Each chapter is a story unto itself, but knitted together, they offer a cohesive view of family dynamics in all their complexity, messiness, and competitiveness, as well as a source of identity, solace, and love. The characters’ small personal epiphanies will make readers think grandly, “Ah, yes! That’s how it is for me, for everyone.” A universal picture emerges from particular details. Goodman writes with a keen eye, a lively sense of humor, and empathy. She has a knack for penetrating the hearts and minds of people as different as a young girl, a divorced middle-aged father, and a dissatisfied but doting grandmother. As a novelist who also writes from several points of view (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I admired her skill at linking their tales while respecting the individuality of each. This absorbing book is about all of us.

Goodman writes about us, about all families

Why writers read: “A mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge.” – George R. R. Martin

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Some Bright Nowhere by Ann Packer (Rated 5) – Dying’s Partners. Some Bright Nowhere by Ann Packer is an unflinching novel that pointedly asks: How do we care for a loved one who is dying? Who in this world do we want with us when we leave it? Eliot wants to continue caring for his wife Claire, as he has for the decade since her cancer diagnosis. Now that she is terminal, Claire tells him she wants her two best friends to take on that role instead. Demoted to the status of visitor, Eliot must confront his feelings of rejection and inadequacy, while simultaneously handling his grief. Some Bright Nowhere then expands into a sensitive treatise on marriage — the strong bond between husband and wife — and friendship — the fierce attachment between women. How do you navigate parallel tracks of love that threaten to veer into a competition? Although the book is written from Eliot’s POV, Packer also captures the perspectives of Claire, the couple’s grown children, and Claire’s lifelong friend Holly. In perceptive vignettes, readers also glimpse the contrasting dynamics of male friendship. As a certified end-of-life doula, I was impressed by Packer’s accurate portrait of the “work” of dying. And as a novelist (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I valued her ability to delve into the minds and hearts of her struggling characters. Kudos to Packer, who has written a bright and illuminating book about a dark and taboo subject.

Before death do them part

Why writers read: “Books are people who have managed to stay alive by hiding between the covers of a book.” – E. B. White

My Amazon and Goodreads review of Middlemarch by George Eliot (Rated 5) – Doing Due Diligence. Marking the sesquicentennial of its publication, I finally read Middlemarch by George Eliot. Duty requires that I rate this classic novel “5,” but words best register my full reaction. At times, I was engaged by the wisdom and wit of Eliot’s take on small-town country life two centuries ago, notably marriage and the role of women, politics and religion, wealth and status, philosophy and the arts. An end-of-life doula, I was particularly taken with how the wills of (rich) elderly insured the maintenance of society’s hierarchies. At other times, impatient with Eliot’s detours (e.g., into politics) and eager to get on with the intrigues among the characters, I was tempted to skip ahead. Then an astute observation would catch my eye and I feared I’d miss others by skimming. A “finisher” by nature, and also a novelist (see my Amazon author page OR Goodreads author page), I felt compelled to read every word. For those who merely want to fill a literary gap in their education, I suggest they peruse enough (say ⅓) to claim they read Middlemarch. But to appreciate the qualities which merit the book a place in the canon, one must push on to the finish. I’m glad I did. If I may be permitted an oxymoron, it’s a predictable cliffhanger.

Persevere with this classic; it’s worth the effort

Why writers read: “A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.” – Italo Calvino

My Goodreads and Amazon review of The Slip by Lucas Schaefer (Rated 3) – The Skip. I wanted to like The Slip by Lucas Schaefer after the New York Times described the author as a “bold new voice” and his debut novel as “potent.” I thought a novel about the cold case of a missing teenage boy, set in a Texas gym, would be a cathartic substitute for my urge to punch something whenever I hear the news these days. Instead, forcing myself to finish the book in case I’d missed something the reviewer had seen, I found a tangle of people and tropes. As a novelist myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I don’t care if my characters are likable, but they must be engaging. Schaefer’s are tiresome. Even promising tales dead-end, like leads in a cold case. The author occasionally offers astute social commentary, and he invites readers into the world of boxing gyms, whose bag-punching rhythms he captures. Too bad the book itself doesn’t produce that same dynamic effect. Unless you like flabby narratives, I advise you to give The Slip, the skip.

Pull your punches and skip The Slip

Why writers read: “Writing is a difficult trade which must be learned slowly by reading.” – André Maurois

My Goodreads and Amazon review of By the Waters of Paradise: An American Story of Racism and Rupture in a Jewish Family by Clare Kinberg (Rated 5) – The Ties That Break. The titleBy the Waters of Paradise: An American Story of Racism and Rupture in a Jewish Family by Clare Kinberg is a summation of the multiple angles brought to bear on the author’s search for an unknown relative. Kinberg sets out to “find” her father’s late sister, Aunt Rose, who was banished from her Jewish family and close-knit St. Louis community for marrying a black man. Her personal search also becomes a historical investigation of race and religion in the last century, strands which Kinberg interweaves in a smooth and provocative narrative. With so much of the story untraceable, she draws on empathy and her own experience being married to a mixed-race woman and raising two black daughters, to imagine what life was like for Aunt Rose, her entrepreneurial husband Zeb Arnwine, and the black lakeside community in Michigan where they settled and opened Zeb’s Bar-B-Q joint. Examining the racism in her family helps Kinberg trace her own abhorrence of the tribal bigotry that poisons all of society. Likewise, she reconciles her faith with the racism and misogyny in Judaism by naming it, acknowledging its role in scripture, then writing new stories that teach alternative lessons on how we are commanded to treat people. As a fiction writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), who creates characters as well as their stories, I admire Kinberg’s inventiveness. She reconstructs a credible life that connects her to the past and the present. Her accumulated knowledge and persuasive storytelling will accomplish the same for readers attempting to patch holes in their own histories.

Finding ourselves by reconstructing our ancestors

Why writers read: “If you want a new idea, read an old book.” – Ivan Pavlov

My Goodreads and Amazon review of On Animals by Susan Orlean (Rated 5) – Fair Game. In the words of author Susan Orlean, On Animals is about “the subject of animals — living with them, loving them, hoarding them, using them, and how our relationship to animals says something about who and what we are.” I like animals, but with a few exceptions (cats, for sure, and well-behaved dogs), I’m not a fan of them as pets. However, I am a huge fan of Susan Orlean, whatever her topic, and she is enamored of animals, both domesticated and wild, so I had no doubt I would be drawn to her book of essays. I was not disappointed. Among my favorites are “Show Dog,” about Biff the boxer, who is nothing like the stereotypical pampered prize winner depicted in most media; “Riding High,” about the centuries-long dependability of mules for agricultural and military transport; and “The Lion Whisperer,” about a man with an uncanny ability to co-exist peacefully with the king of (vicious) beasts. I also enjoyed learning about the place-loyalty of homing pigeons, animal actors’s rights, re-wilding captive whales, and matching teams of oxen. In short, all animals and their encounters with humans are fair game for this curious and entertaining author. The last set of essays are as much about Orlean the “farmer” as about the animals who live with her in rural upstate New York: fowl (chickens, turkeys, ducks, guinea fowl), cattle, cats, and a dog. Orlean’s relationships with her domestics is affectionate but respectful; she doesn’t baby or anthropomorphize them. She is particularly fond of her chickens. When she and her husband temporarily relocate to L.A., and she must leave the chickens behind, Orlean laments, “Our backyard in California is small. Moreover, there are zillions of coyotes and bobcats hanging out in the neighborhood, and they are not the scrawny East Coast models: like everyone in Los Angeles, the coyotes I’ve seen there look like they work out a lot with personal trainers.” Eventually forced to permanently move from NY to CA, a tearful Orlean observes, “I had reveled in the animals’ friendship and their strangeness; the way they are so obvious and still so mysterious.” We might apply the same paradox to people, if we attended to them with the same dedication Orlean devotes to her menagerie. As a fiction writer (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I can make that claim about the (un)knowability of the characters I create. I read On Animals soon after completing my novel Elephant Angel (out January 2028), during which I too collected interesting information about human-animal relationships. Orlean’s book was a fascinating complement to what I’d learned and spurs me to discover more about the animal kingdom as experienced by us and, as we can best infer, what they in turn make of us and themselves.

A menagerie between the covers of a book

Why writers read: “Read a lot. Write a lot. Have fun.” – Daniel Pinkwater

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Last House: The Age of Oil by Jessica Shattuck (Rated 5) – Who Pays for Progress? Jessica Shattuck’s sweeping novel, Last House, begins and ends with Big Oil, a geopolitical force that simultaneously fuels the world economy and ignites a family saga. Its title is the literal name of the family dwelling built by a man named John Last, a place to escape “when the world ends,” and a metaphor for decay. The narrative begins when the allied victory in WWII spurred well-intentioned progress and ends with the relentless pursuit of energy that today threatens the environment. As the world is torn apart, so are the generations in the Taylor family: Nick, the father, a veteran who is an idealistic lawyer for an oil company; Bet, the mother, who abandoned dreams of a career for suburbia; daughter Katherine, a rebellious child of the 60s; and son Harry, a “nature boy” before the term existed. In the background lurks Carter Weston, the amoral yet entertaining character who’s a fixture in spy novels. In the events of this finely plotted book, the peacemakers become suspect, their conciliatory motives perverted into their exact opposites. Meanwhile the fomenters of discord become heroes, the standard bearers of government and business. And beneath the national and worldwide drama, one family struggles to understand the generational rift that leads to tragedy and tears them apart. As a writer of 20th century historical fiction (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I admire Shattuck’s ability to interweave meticulous research with an absorbing story. At the panoramic level, Last House is an indictment of corporate hypocrisy and political manipulation. At a granular level, it is a heartbreaking tale of parental and filial loss. It would appear that no one wins until subsequent generations rebuild trust from the ground up. The other winners are the readers who will emerge wiser and deeply moved by this thoughtful and compassionate book.

How big oil threatens one small family

Why writers read: “A good book is an event in my life.” – Stendhal