Monday, November 1, 2021

The London House

The London HouseThe London House by Katherine Reay
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Head over to Austenprose for my review of Katherine Reay's latest historical fiction

“If what had started a domino chain of pain, retreat, and dysfunction could somehow be reversed or reimagined, then couldn’t a domino chain of hope replace and even heal it? (301) 

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Monday, September 13, 2021

Jane Austen and Shelley in the Garden

Jane Austen and Shelley in the Garden: An Illustrated NovelJane Austen and Shelley in the Garden: An Illustrated Novel by Janet Todd
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Head over to Austenprose for my review of Janet Todd's latest novel. Jane Austen lives in retired professor Fran's head and has plenty to say about Fran and her friends.

“Jane Austen usually avoids commenting on other shadows, but can’t resist nimbly descending the stairs to whisper to Fran, Your Shelley’s a hypochondriac. Had I known this, I might have lodged him in Sanditon and dosed him with asses’ milk.

I do agree, Fran whispers back. He could have been mates with Sir Edward Denham and talked high poetry. They both giggle. (84)

Sunday, April 18, 2021

Death Comes for the Archbishop

Death Comes for the ArchbishopDeath Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

It struck me as I was finishing this book that Willa Cather loves the land more than any human being. I don't mean this as a criticism. Her writing is its most luminous when describing a landscape or the elements. Her most empathetic depictions of people are often tinged with a sense of the timelessness of the natural world. People who live in tune with nature are the heroes of her novels, although they often suffer at the hands of their fellow humans as well as the world they inhabit. Still, they return to the land that sustains them as no other person can. 

Father Latour had used to feel a little ashamed that Joseph kept his sister and her nuns so busy making cassocks and vestments for him; but the last time he was in France he came to see all this in another light... "Look," she said, "after the Mother has read us one of those letters from her brother, I come and stand in this alcove and look up our little street with its one lamp, and just beyond the turn there is New Mexico; all that he has written us of those red deserts and blue mountains, the great plains and the herds of bison, and the canyons more profound than our deepest mountain gorges. I can feel that I am there, my heart beats faster, and it seems but a moment until the retiring-bell cuts short my dreams." (pg. 181)

Nothing one could say of Father Vaillant explained him. The man was much greater than the sum of his qualities. He added a glow to whatever kind of human society he was dropped down into. A Navajo hogan, some abjectly poor little huddle of Mexican huts, or a company of Monsignori and Cardinals at Rome--it was all the same. (pg. 227)

Elsewhere the sky is the roof of the world; but here the earth was the floor of the sky. (pg. 232)

In New Mexico he always awoke a young man; not until he rose and began to shave did he realize that he was growing older. His first consciousness was a sense of the light dry wind blowing through the windows, with the fragrance of hot sun and sage-brush and sweet clover; a wind that made one's body feel light and one's heart cry "To-day, to-day," like a child's. (pg. 272)

Tuesday, March 23, 2021

Farther Afield

Farther Afield (Fairacre)Farther Afield by Miss Read
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I tried to read several books since the start of this year. Nothing stuck. Nothing grabbed me. Nothing, nothing, nothing. What was wrong with me? 

Turns out, nothing. I just needed to find the right book for the right time and that was this book by one of my favorite "comfort" read authors: Miss Read. In this novel, an English village schoolteacher who has been looking forward to the summer and checking off all manner of items on her to-do list, promptly breaks her arm at the beginning of the summer holiday. As I am a big planner, this type of setback hit close to home. Miss Read's friend Amy comes to her aid, and once the invalid is sufficiently recovered, invites her on a vacation to the island of Crete. 

The quiet pace, the humorous characters, and the gentle insights that characterize these stories are all here with the added fun of a setting quite different from the English countryside. 

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Wednesday, February 24, 2021

How to Lie with Statistics

How to Lie with StatisticsHow to Lie with Statistics by Darrell Huff
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I felt this was an important topic to understand, as a layperson, and this book was targeted toward just that audience. I doubt I'll ever tackle the nitty gritty of statistics, but I am now more knowledgable  about the methods and principles that underlie the practice, as well as the sneaky methods that can manipulate the data or prop up dubious claims.  

The author was informative, concise, and humorous. The illustrations were vintage 1950s style, which I enjoyed almost as much as the text.

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Monday, December 28, 2020

Herding Cats

Herding Cats (Sarah's Scribbles, #3)Herding Cats by Sarah Andersen
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

At the end of this very, very trying year, I needed something laugh-out-loud funny to cheer me up. This was not the year to read any Russian novels, at least not for me. These wacky and relatable comics were just what the psychologist ordered!

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Wednesday, December 9, 2020

No Holly for Miss Quinn

No Holly for Miss Quinn (Fairacre)No Holly for Miss Quinn by Miss Read
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

It can be difficult to find a holiday read that isn't Hallmark Channel sentimentality in book form. Thankfully, Miss Read has several holiday-themed stories that deliver a festive and lighthearted yuletide. The book blurb promises, "Miss Quinn's unexpectedly hectic Christmas has a significant effect upon her life."

Miriam had long ago given up feeling guilty about her dislike of Christmas festivities, and latterly had taken pains to keep her own Christmases as quiet as possible. This year she was determined to spend it alone in her new abode, with no turkey, no pudding, no mince pies and—definitely—no holly. She might have a glass of the excellent punch that Barnabas usually gave her, with her customary light lunch, and she intended to read some Trollope, earmarked for the winter months. But too much food, too much noise and, above all, too much convivial company she would avoid. But would she be able to? (25%)

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