GREETINGS BOOK LOVERS!
We met last night at Beth Hedengren's lovely home and enjoyed sharing our more recently read books with each other. We missed having our wonderful friend, Ann Wing, with us but are grateful for the many wonderful Bookshare meetings we were able to have with her in her home until she passed away last week. We remember her with fondness and love.
Here are the books that were reviewed:
NANCY NAY:
"I Feel Bad About My Neck" by Nora Ephron
The honest truth is that it's sad to be over sixty," concludes Nora Ephron in her sparkling new book about aging. With 15 essays in 160 pages, this collection is short, a thoughtful concession to pre- and post-menopausal women (who else is there?), like herself, who "can't read a word on the pill bottle," follow a thought to a conclusion, or remember the thought after not being able to read the pill bottle. Ephron drives the truth home like a nail in your soon-to-be-bought coffin: "Plus, you can't wear a bikini." But just as despair sets in, she admits to using "quite a lot of bath oil... I'm as smooth as silk." Yes, she is. This is aging lite—but that might be the answer. Besides, there's always Philip Roth for aging heavy.Ephron, in fact, offers a brief anecdote about Roth, in a chapter on cooking, concerning her friend Jane, who had a one-night stand, long ago, with the then "up-and-coming" writer. He gave Jane a copy of his latest book. "Take one on your way out," he said. Conveniently, there was a box of them by the front door. Ephron refuses to analyze—one of her most refreshing qualities—and quickly moves on to Jane's céleri remoulade.Aging, according to Ephron, is one big descent—and who would argue? (Well, okay—but they'd lose the argument if they all got naked.) There it is, the steady spiraling down of everything: body and mind, breasts and balls, dragging one's self-respect behind them. Ephron's witty riffs on these distractions are a delightful antidote to the prevailing belief that everything can be held up with surgical scaffolding and the drugs of denial. Nothing, in the end, prevents the descent. While signs of mortality proliferate, Ephron offers a rebuttal of consequence: an intelligent, alert, entertaining perspective that does not take itself too seriously. (If you can't laugh, after all, you are already, technically speaking, dead.) She does, however, concede that hair maintenance—styling, dyeing, highlighting, blow-drying—is a serious matter, not to mention the expense. "Once I picked up a copy of Vogue while having my hair done, and it cost me twenty thousand dollars. But you should see my teeth." Digging deeper, she discovers that your filthy, bulging purse containing numerous things you don't need—and couldn't find if you did—is, "in some absolutely horrible way, you." Ephron doesn't shy away from the truth about sex either, and confesses, though with an appropriate amount of shame, that despite having been a White House intern in 1961, she did not have an affair with JFK. May Ephron, and her purse, endure so she can continue to tell us how it goes. Or, at least, where it went.
"I Remember Nothing" by Nora Ephron
"I have a book coming out called I Remember Nothing, and it will probably not surprise you to hear that I can’t recall how I came to write it.
I notice that most authors who write about their books on their Amazon page know exactly when inspiration struck, and they describe this Eureka moment quite eloquently. But I don’t have a clue about mine. There had to have been a blinding flash when I realized I had to write something about Age and Memory, but, as I said, I remember nothing, and my guess is that this shimmering insight was followed in short order by my forgetting I’d had the idea in the first place. And then I had the idea again. And forgot it again. Until finally, miraculously, it stuck.
When you’re young, you make jokes about how things slip your mind. You think it’s amusing that you’ve wandered into the kitchen and can’t remember why. Or that you carefully made a shopping list and left it home on the counter. Or that you managed to forget the plot of a movie you saw only last week.
And then you get older.
A couple of years ago, the actor Ryan O’Neal failed to recognize his own daughter Tatum at a funeral and accidentally made a pass at her. Everyone was very judgmental about this, but not me: only a few weeks earlier, I’d been in a mall in Las Vegas when a very pleasant-looking woman came toward me, her arms outstretched, and I thought to myself, who is this woman? How do I know her? It turned out to be my sister Amy. You might think, well, how was she to know her sister was in Las Vegas, but I’m sorry to say that not only did I know, but she was the person I was meeting in the mall.
Anyway, at some point, I thought it might be fun to write a book about what I remember, and what I’ve forgotten. I still feel bad about my neck, but I feel even worse about the fact that huge bits of my life have gone slip-sliding away, and I thought I’d better write them down while I still had a sense of humor about it all."
I notice that most authors who write about their books on their Amazon page know exactly when inspiration struck, and they describe this Eureka moment quite eloquently. But I don’t have a clue about mine. There had to have been a blinding flash when I realized I had to write something about Age and Memory, but, as I said, I remember nothing, and my guess is that this shimmering insight was followed in short order by my forgetting I’d had the idea in the first place. And then I had the idea again. And forgot it again. Until finally, miraculously, it stuck.
When you’re young, you make jokes about how things slip your mind. You think it’s amusing that you’ve wandered into the kitchen and can’t remember why. Or that you carefully made a shopping list and left it home on the counter. Or that you managed to forget the plot of a movie you saw only last week.
And then you get older.
A couple of years ago, the actor Ryan O’Neal failed to recognize his own daughter Tatum at a funeral and accidentally made a pass at her. Everyone was very judgmental about this, but not me: only a few weeks earlier, I’d been in a mall in Las Vegas when a very pleasant-looking woman came toward me, her arms outstretched, and I thought to myself, who is this woman? How do I know her? It turned out to be my sister Amy. You might think, well, how was she to know her sister was in Las Vegas, but I’m sorry to say that not only did I know, but she was the person I was meeting in the mall.
Anyway, at some point, I thought it might be fun to write a book about what I remember, and what I’ve forgotten. I still feel bad about my neck, but I feel even worse about the fact that huge bits of my life have gone slip-sliding away, and I thought I’d better write them down while I still had a sense of humor about it all."
JENNY ASHBY:
"The Help" by Kathryn Stockett
What perfect timing for this optimistic, uplifting debut novel (and maiden publication of Amy Einhorn's new imprint) set during the nascent civil rights movement in Jackson, Miss., where black women were trusted to raise white children but not to polish the household silver. Eugenia Skeeter Phelan is just home from college in 1962, and, anxious to become a writer, is advised to hone her chops by writing about what disturbs you. The budding social activist begins to collect the stories of the black women on whom the country club sets relies and mistrusts enlisting the help of Aibileen, a maid who's raised 17 children, and Aibileen's best friend Minny, who's found herself unemployed more than a few times after mouthing off to her white employers. The book Skeeter puts together based on their stories is scathing and shocking, bringing pride and hope to the black community, while giving Skeeter the courage to break down her personal boundaries and pursue her dreams. Assured and layered, full of heart and history, this one has bestseller written all over it.
In writing about such a troubled time in American history, Southern-born Stockett takes a big risk, one that paid off enormously. Critics praised Stockett's skillful depiction of the ironies and hypocrisies that defined an era, without resorting to depressing or controversial clich√©s. Rather, Stockett focuses on the fascinating and complex relationships between vastly different members of a household. Additionally, reviewers loved (and loathed) Stockett's three-dimensional characters—and cheered and hissed their favorites to the end. Several critics questioned Stockett's decision to use a heavy dialect solely for the black characters. Overall, however, The Help is a compassionate, original story, as well as an excellent choice for book groups.
BETH HEDENGREN:
"Major Petigrew's Last Stand" by Helen Simonson
It is always cause for celebration when a debut author bursts on the scene with an original and whimsical novel that is bound to capture attention. And this novel -- Major Pettigrew's Last Stand -- has much to recommend it.
Major Pettigrew is a very proper and delightfully droll widower of 68 who resides in the quaint village of Edgecombe St. Mary in Sussex, England. He is the father of Roger, a posturing and preening young man who has incorporated none of the values of his dad. And he is also the accidental suitor of the proprietress of the village mini-mart, Jasmina Ali, a 50-something Pakistani widow who shares his love of Kipling and his wry look at the world in which they both reside. The two of them -- the quintessential local and the attractive outsider -- must navigate the gossip and outright prejudice of their stilted society. Helen Simonson writes, "He (the Major) had always assumed gossip to be the malicious whispering of uncomfortable truths, not the fabrication of absurdities. Was a life of careful, impeccable behavior not enough in a world where inventions were passed around as facts?"
This is by no means "chick lit", nor is it hard-hitting politically correct narrative, couched in fiction. It is a charming English comedy of manners -- in places, a laugh-out-loud comedy. A scene, for example, where the atrocities of Pakistani Partition are reduced to a bad-taste dinner show or where the favored ducks of schoolchildren are chosen as prey for a duck hunt are satirical and spot-on.
Yet despite its gentle humor, Major Pettigrew's Last Stand touches on many of the big issues: the clash of culture and religions, the greed of unbridaled globalization, the tension between fathers and sons...and families in general. At its heart, though, it is an old-fashioned love story. I couldn't help but stand by the sidelines rooting for the Major and his lady and keep my fingers crossed for their eventual coupling. The book is an ode for anyone who refuses to give up on life or love at any stage of life. For those who love the charm of the "Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society", you're in for yet another treat.
Major Pettigrew is a very proper and delightfully droll widower of 68 who resides in the quaint village of Edgecombe St. Mary in Sussex, England. He is the father of Roger, a posturing and preening young man who has incorporated none of the values of his dad. And he is also the accidental suitor of the proprietress of the village mini-mart, Jasmina Ali, a 50-something Pakistani widow who shares his love of Kipling and his wry look at the world in which they both reside. The two of them -- the quintessential local and the attractive outsider -- must navigate the gossip and outright prejudice of their stilted society. Helen Simonson writes, "He (the Major) had always assumed gossip to be the malicious whispering of uncomfortable truths, not the fabrication of absurdities. Was a life of careful, impeccable behavior not enough in a world where inventions were passed around as facts?"
This is by no means "chick lit", nor is it hard-hitting politically correct narrative, couched in fiction. It is a charming English comedy of manners -- in places, a laugh-out-loud comedy. A scene, for example, where the atrocities of Pakistani Partition are reduced to a bad-taste dinner show or where the favored ducks of schoolchildren are chosen as prey for a duck hunt are satirical and spot-on.
Yet despite its gentle humor, Major Pettigrew's Last Stand touches on many of the big issues: the clash of culture and religions, the greed of unbridaled globalization, the tension between fathers and sons...and families in general. At its heart, though, it is an old-fashioned love story. I couldn't help but stand by the sidelines rooting for the Major and his lady and keep my fingers crossed for their eventual coupling. The book is an ode for anyone who refuses to give up on life or love at any stage of life. For those who love the charm of the "Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society", you're in for yet another treat.
SARA TRIVEDI:
"Evergreen" by Belva Plain
he towering modern classic of passion and ambition that forever changed the way we see the courageous immigrants who came to America's shores -- the story of Anna Friedman transfixes us with the turbulent emotions of a woman and her family touched by war, tragedy, and the devastating secrets of one forbidden love... bittersweet and evergreen.
This book takes you on a amazing journey of a woman's life from childhood to old age. Although it begins as Anna Friedman's story, it frequently changes perspective.. taking on that of her daughter, son, husband, grandkids, lover.. Through each character's eyes, comes a complete roller coaster of emotions and real-life issues. There was a surprise at every turn, keeping you glued to the book. Like nothing I've ever read.. It forces you to see life from a grander view and realize what it's really about. I feel as though I knew this woman and she made me wise.
GERI CHRISTENSEN:
"La's Orchestra That Saves The World" by Alexander McCall Smith
Fans of Alexander McCall Smith's female sleuths Precious Ramotswe and Isabel Dalhousie will find just a few mysteries punctuating the story line of his new stand-alone novel. The story is mainly concerned with the day-to-day life and concerns of a young widow named Lavender ("La") Stone, a promising Cambridge student who, like many women of her class and generation, finished school, married well, and led a comfortable and respectable life. In La's case, things go awry when her philandering husband unexpectedly leaves her, and dies shortly thereafter in a freak accident. In 1939, she retreats to her in-law's country house to sort out the emotional wreckage of her failed marriage and premature widowhood. In this self-imposed exile, she finds solace in contributing to the war effort--tending to the hens on a neighbors farm, cultivating a victory garden, and conducting an orchestra composed of local amateur musicians. In this quiet and intimate book, La’s rural life might seem inconsequential or perhaps even quaint, but her predicament and pathos are moving. And, her daily battles represent important generational and social struggles among women to lead independent and dignified lives in the face of hardship, moral ambiguities, burdensome class and social conventions, and isolation. La Stone may be rendered with softer lines and contours, yet she bears many of the memorable and inspiring qualities of McCall Smith's well-known heroines.
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Dessert was an CHOCOLATE CAKE ICE CREAM ROLL. Here is the recipe for the cake:
1/2 c. FLOUR
1/4 c. COCOA
3/4 TSP. BAKING POWDER
1/4 TSP. SALT
4 EGGS, SEPARATED
1 T. COLD WATER
1/2 C. + 1/3 C. SUGAR
1/2 TSP. VANILLA
1/3 C. POWDERED SUGAR
Grease and flour jelly roll pan or spray with Pam Baking spray. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Sift first 5 ingredients in large mixing bowl. Combine egg whites and water. Beat on high until frothy. Gradually add 1/2 C. sugar and beat until stiff. In small mixing bowl beat egg yolks until thick. Gradually add 1/3 C. sugar. Add vanilla and beat 2 minutes longer. Fold into egg whites. Fold in dry ingredients. Don't over-mix.
Spread batter evenly in pan. Bake 12 to 15 minutes. Sprinkle dish towel with powdered sugar. Turn cake onto towel. Roll up cake and towel together. Let stand 1 minute. Unroll then re-roll. Cool, unroll and spread with vanilla ice cream, whipped cream or chocolate whipped cream. Chill or freeze. Serve with desired topping. We had cherry pie filling.
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Our next Bookshare meeting will be held on Wednesday, April 27th. The location is yet to be determined. You will be notified about where it will be.
Happy Reading!
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