by ELG Gray

Gilead

Page turner: 6/10
Heart tugger: 8/10
Thought provoker: 7/10
Overall: 3 stars

Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson is the warmest-and-fuzziest book I have read thus far in my great book quest. I would not go so far as to say it is Happy, but it is much more heart warming than the previous 8 I have read. The biggest difference is that the narrator of the book is a content, and his contentment sets the tone for the story.

The narrator is a 76-year-old man named John Ames, writing to his 6 year-old son about all the things Ames would like to be able to tell him as an adult, but can’t because of the very great age gap between them. Whilst there is something bittersweet in such an undertaking, Ames is so happy to have a son and a family at all that I was much more impressed with the warmth and love of the endeavor than the morbidity of it.

For all its warmth (perhaps because of it), Gilead is really the ramblings of an old man. It’s a journal. There are no chapters. The style and tone adds charm, but also makes it occasionally tedious. Especially given that the man is a Congregationalist Reverend (whose father and grandfather were also Reverends), prone to philosophical debates and conjectures. Refreshingly he isn’t one to proselytize, but it can get a bit heavy. Several times I had to stop myself from skim reading. Prepare yourself for the inevitable conflict about predestination. He doesn’t like it, either.

So the book is about religion, and love, and parenthood. It is about loss and friendship and family. It tells a story (or set of stories) about a small-town in the Midwest and its history. Gilead, by the way, is the name of the fictional Iowa town. Set between 1880 and 1957, it touches on the events of both World Wars, and recounts a great deal about its Civil War legacy and abolitionist heritage. It’s a nice book, and if nothing else a very interesting chronicle of a life that lived to see huge technical and social change. Plus, you cannot help but to like Reverend Ames, who is clearly a very, very nice man.

What makes it award-winning, I suspect, is that it tackles a really interesting concept: what a parent wants to teach a child. Knowing you are not going to be present for most of your child’s life – what do you say? Are you selfish? Philosophical? Instructional? Supportive? Robinson, I think, does a lovely job of exploring all of the above.

It’s just that Gilead just didn’t wow me. I got through the book pretty quickly, but mostly because I had 6 hours of train-time over the last several days. I liked reading it, but it didn’t really compel me to keep going. I didn’t Need to know. Throughout, the book inspired me, and touched me, but didn’t – quite – move me.

11.09.13

by ELG Gray

The Great Gatsby

Page turner: 7/10
Heart tugger: 8/10
Thought provoker: 8/10
Overall: 4 stars

I really, really liked The Great Gatsby.

Also: Liking it was a pleasant surprise.

I – like most other teenagers in America- read The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald in high school, and I remember feeling broadly ambivalent about it. But I think at the time I was looking for a happy ending, and my frustration and disappointment in the characters in the book meant my teenage self equated that with not liking the book. Whereas perhaps I should have realized that a book that could Make me feel disappointed might actually have something going for it. And actually, reading it now a decade and a half later (ish), I would quite happily read it again.

The thing is that this book is stunning. The language is descriptive, evocative, and meaningful without being overly descriptive. Which is particularly impressive given the opulence of the setting. After all, it takes place amid the extremely privileged crowds of New York and Long Island in 1922. Readers float along with the narrator, Nick Carraway, as he at first interprets his roaring life amongst the likes of the great Jay Gatsby as, potentially, the American Dream.

“There was music from my neighbor’s house through the summer nights. In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars. At high tide in the afternoon I watched his guests diving from the tower of his raft, or taking the sun on the hot sand of his beach while his two motor-boats slit the waters of the Sound, drawing aquaplanes over cataracts of foam.”

I liken my experience of this book to that of my recollection of dreams: occasionally vivid but often overwhelming and blurry. And when I wake up I have an intense feeling of some emotion, without being quite sure how I got it. Yes, reading Gatsby is like having a dream, waking up, going back to sleep, and then having a bit of a nightmare.

I love Nick’s restraint, even as the dream-turns-nightmare. In the telling of events he states truth more often than his interpretation of it, so that when he does express his disapproval you feel it (and a warmness for him) all the more. But the way he paints a picture of the room as he enters it really what is outstanding – I don’t think I can now ever forget the white statuesque stances of Daisy and Miss Baker when he first visits them.

The Great Gatsby is a beautiful book. It is well worth overcoming your teenage impressions and giving it a re-read, and I can see why it is so high up the Modern Library’s list (though I am not-yet sure about being 2nd). I apologize to my 10th (11th?) grade English teacher. I am also horrified I can’t remember which year I read it. I might even open it again soon – at which point I reserve the right to give it 5 stars.

11.05.13

by ELG Gray

Olive Kitteridge

Page turner: 6/10
Heart tugger: 7/10
Thought provoker: 7/10
**Well crafted: 10/10**
Overall: 4 stars

**Making a special appearance for this book, is the ‘well crafted’ rating. When I originally decided on the different parts of the rating system I took the assumption that all of these books would be at least moderately well written and conceived. And a fifth means of rating a book seemed like a lot. But this book is so very much in a league of its own, I have temporarily introduced the metric so that everyone knows how much it excels. (The temporary rating is very clever colleague’s idea. Thank you.)**

Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 2009. It really is the ‘American’ type of book that the Pulitzer Prize is looking for. Set in a small town on the coast of Maine in the years post 9/11, it resonates with all that is small-town Americana. But I think (hope) it would make it all the more appealing for an international audience as well.

Olive Kitteridge is the title and the central character of this story of the quietly intertwining lives of a town’s inhabitants. She is irritable, brooding, loving, passionate, and silent. She is the lynch pin of the book, tying together the narration as each chapter shifts to focus on the stories of other people’s lives. The execution is flawless. The story is tight – characters are never forgotten, or left hanging, or not somehow contributing to the progression of the novel. Whereas I often think of all of these pieces of fiction as books or stories, Strout has written a stunning novel.

A quick example: one of the characters describes her father having ‘sole custody’ of her. And for years she thought it was spelled with a u.

To the point. Pointed. But not labored or cocky.

There is little else I can say about this fantastic book. Read it. It is a book about the vastness of love, and anger, and death. Olive certainly feels these intensely. The book has a quietness about it – but the characters’ lives are not at all plodding or quaint. So it is a suppose about ‘quiet lives’ but makes the point that no life is quiet.

I do warn you of one thing: I read this a few years ago and remember not liking it all that much. I wasn’t hugely enthused about re-reading it. My turn-around, I hope, speaks in favor of the book. That said, for me it has very much been a book that displays is greatness through its prose and its craft. Don’t read it just to ‘see what happens next’. Read every word and let it sink in.

09.29.13

by ELG Gray

The Color Purple

Page turner: 7/10
Heart tugger: 8/10
Thought provoker: 7/10
Overall: 4 stars

I finished reading The Color Purple just as I got to the train station at work on a Monday morning. It is a very good thing I didn’t finish 90 seconds later, or I would have ended up somewhere terribly unhelpful. I remember, as I finished, an overwhelming sense of relief. And also of peace.

Celie, the main character, is a black woman in the American South whose story mostly takes part in the early decades of the twentieth century. If you can think of the variety of horrible things that, stereotypically, might happen to a black woman during that time period – they do. Her life is not, objectively, a happy one. And yet, somehow, the author does a stupendous job of documenting the steady transformation of Celie’s life as she finds empowerment and happiness. It is a journey towards (and through?) grace.

The book itself is written in a series of diary entries (well, sort of – they are notes to a higher being) and letters. Mostly from Celie’s perspective. So as a reader, you quickly pick up the nuances of language, pronunciation, and vocab of the poor African Americans in the South. When done well (this is) it is easily to get steeped in the culture of the book without really realizing that the writing is ‘beautiful’ in the traditional sense.

I remember very little about my 10 minute walk from the station to the office that Monday, but I do recall getting to the office and discovering that my fingers were a bit stiff as I had been clenching my hand in a fist for the entire walk. Upon reflection it was very much a triumphant fist-clench. Not an over-the-top-wild-celebration, but more of a pursed lips, elbow-pump, ‘HA.’ The main characters all demonstrate quite a lot of personal strength, growth, and love. So for all of its rather depressing episodes, I will say that it has a relatively happy ending.

It is a relatively short book – so no need to be intimidated by its size. As mentioned, it isn’t all happy but once you know setting (which is pretty well outlined on the back of the book) none of the bad incidents are particularly surprising. As such, it isn’t a big page-turner: you aren’t so sucked in you can’t put it down – but the characters themselves are obviously (given my reaction to the ending) very real and very believable. If nothing else, I wanted to know what happened to them.

I had always meant to read The Color Purple – and I can definitively say I am very pleased I did. And now I can finally allow myself to watch the movie! (Which I’m told is quite good.) Overall it is a beautiful book, which I would recommend to pretty much anyone. There are lessons about love and life, but it is also just a good read, and an eye-opening window into a time in the not-so-distant past. Read it when you are a bit stressed, and you can’t help but think, “if they can overcome those things in life … what on Earth am I so worried about”?

09.24.13

by ELG Gray

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay

Page turner: 9/10
Heart tugger: 8/10
Thought provoker: 7/10
Overall: 5 stars

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon is, to date, one of my most favorite books. As such, it seemed the perfect first entry to this endeavor. And it gave me an excuse to re-read it.

It is a wonderful book. The plot – it is about two Jewish men who decide to storm into the comic book industry in New York, starting just before World War II – fulfills the criteria of being easy to explain, but also taking you to places that you didn’t expect to go. Perhaps, sometimes, uncomfortably. But it is an adventure story. It has pizzazz. And it’s great.

The beginning is by far the best part of the book. In the first 100ish pages you get up-to-speed with Czech-born Joe, and Brooklyn-boy Sam, where you learn about becoming magician, comic books, and pre-War Euro-American relations and tensions. The language is vivid (to the point where I felt I could actually see the books they start creating, and by the way I am Not a particular fan of comic books), the characters believable, and totally overall it is unlike anything else I have ever read. It was refreshing. Heart-warming (if occasionally sad) and endearing as well as racy and vibrant.

I am sure if you were to read Spark Notes (or whatever) you would discover the books themes are escapism, loss, and love. I would agree. But I encourage you to think of escapism as an art-form. Think, “Acts of self-liberation” as one character calls his exploits, think fast-talking and lock-picking. And think about what you would do if you were to lose your entire family, or part of your identity; your main reasons for being.

As the book progresses and as the layers of things the characters (and their comic book characters) are trying to escape get to be a bit much, there are some peculiar plot twists. They ‘make sense’ if you think about it, but a few parts also left me with my head cocked to one side, with one eyebrow arched with increasing frequency. Time blurs. I am sure it is all very meaningful, but it gets to a point where it’s peculiarity becomes a bit much. Frankly, my feeling of disorientation was enough that I didn’t give the book straight 10s. But i wanted to.

The good news is that any moments of oddity get redeemed at the end. In fact, the last page is a bit of cleverness that I am still in awe of. So simple, so *obvious*, and yet I definitely didn’t see it coming. And no, that isn’t an excuse to flip to the last page at the beginning. Better to consider it a reward for getting through the slightly peculiar bit in the middle.

I will say again that this is a wonderful book. So if you are looking for a ‘great’ book – I don’t think starting here would be a bad choice.