Victory Song - A Reader Writes

Major Pettigrew's Last Stand

I loved this first novel by Helen Simonson called, Major Pettigrew's Last Stand. 

Despite any other claims, it's a love story.  Love of country, love of family history, love of wife/partner, love of son, love of brother.  Love even of neighbors who are, in fact, not lovable at all.  Major Pettigrew is charming - not just because he's of the old, English aristocracy - hunkering down (some might suggest "moldering") in a small country village and hanging on to his family pedigree while all others around him are abandoning his ways for more abrupt language, relationships and modern habits. He's charming because he's witty, self-effacing and kind, and because he's genuinely confused and troubled by what he sees as a degradation of society. You know, "himself as final steward" and all that British tradition stuff that we Americans love to feel superior about!

His only brother's death is quite a shock to the 68-year-old widower, and yet he doesn't hesitate to acknowledge the opportunity this presents to reunite a pair of two classic Churchill guns left to the brothers by their father.  The father's dying wish was that while he left one gun to each brother, the two guns should be brought back together for the following generation, and the good Major has every intention of following his father's dying instruction. That such instruction leaves the Major with the much coveted pair is *of course not* part of his urgency.  His intentions are most noble and selfless.

Unfortunately, his horrid sister-in-law (the brother's widow) and even his own son see things differently. The pair of guns is worth $100,000 pounds or more, and it takes all of the Major's wit and charm to maneuver around his relatives "base desire" to sell immediately.   His daydreams of going on a shoot with the two guns causing an appropriate sensation are some of the cleverest parts of the book.

In the midst of al this, the typical village gossip, prejudice and silliness parade about, creating frictions and drama.  And, very unlikely as it is, the Major also falls in love with a most unsuitable partner - Mrs. Ali, the village shopkeeper and a recent widow -- someone whose very presence in the town challenges his status of aristocracy.  She is, after all, not just a shopkeeper but also Pakistani.  When challenged to make a call, he laments that "I don't know how to be other than the man I am." 

This moment of lament is literally a Cinderella story.  Mrs. Ali runs from him at a dance put on by the golf club, dashing down the stairs in obligation to her own family and running from the small minded actions of the Major's upper crust neighbors.  He must decide in a moment to follow her -- and thus follow his heart and his own moral code -- or to stay at the dance and maintain decorum amid the assembled "polite" company.  

Do not despair, gentle reader:  He makes up for his choice of tradition at the dance by later tracking down the love interest and making the decision to play his hand for love.  The chase, rescue and subsequent seduction of Mrs. Ali is a wonderful twist.  The Major is, after all, a very unlikely James Bond sort of hero.  Still, he pulls it off with panache. 

The whole story is quirky and rambling, and many of the characters (including the Major's son) act quite ridiculous.  Several are true heros/heroines and made me cheer out loud for their interests.  But the one word that describes how I felt at the end is "lovely."  This is a lovely story.  With a wonderful message and subtle lesson.  I really enjoyed it.  At the close of the last chapter, I went back immediately to the beginning and read the first 100 pages again.  

If you like a story to have flawed, human characters who tackle life with grit and good humor, then this is a story for you.

Check out Major Pettigrew's Last Stand - which I'm recommending as "last week of summer beach reading" to everyone!

Passing Through "The Passage"

I just finished The Passage by Justin Cronin.  I was SO disappointed.

 

It was gripping – and spooky (it’s a vampire book but totally not for kids).  The story was LONG and detailed.   I loved that it was told from various points of view.  He's got the science of story telling down.  The use of time delay was curious and added to the story's power - some of it was a view back to the time period (about 2014 or so) when the vampires were "hatched" (called "virals" because when they take you in, you become a vampire too). Of course it was a dastardly plot by the US Army to create super-human soldiers that went sadly and horribly wrong.  Now the vampires have basically killed or infected everyone in North America -- except for a small Colony of humans (we are not sure if there are other colonies until well in to the story). Some of it was in the primary moment of the action - about 100 years after the virals hatch.  The opening bits were foretelling the story - and give some interesting grounding for a few main characters.  Some was a look back to history from a thousand years later.  So we know that humans continue to survive, which is nice, but honestly, you'd never know why or how from reading this novel.

 

So the science of it was there - there's a strong plot, a narrative, good characters.  He slips in things like book-lovers and a scene of movie Dracula.   Very clever.  There is some magic in it (I'm a fan of magic.  Cronin's has a bit of God as Guide spirituality mixed with it, but not too overt.)  Yet the art of storytelling is really about telling the story - I want to know how things come about, why the characters interact, and I want some sort of logical conclusion to the story. Not every detail wrapped up in a bow like a cheap romance, but at least some sort of reason to end the novel where it ends.

 

So while Cronin does a nice job of including some details to the story that make the characters alive and human, the story telling doesn't seem to have a strong purpose. It's like the story never finds purchase amid the gruesome vampire actions and the human colony's colossal struggle for survival.  Instead, the end of the book reads like the end of just another chapter. I found myself puzzled as to why there wasn't more.

 

Cronin left so many things unanswered and sort of vague. I was incredibly disappointed. It was either a completely undisguised play for a sequel or it just made sense in his head and not mine.

 

For the spookiness factor alone, I would urge caution. I had to put it aside and not read it before bed if I wanted to sleep at all. 

It's gotten great reviews and Cronin is being celebrated.  But I don't recommend it to anyone but the curious or avid genre fanatics.  Just not a satisfying story. 

Check out the Amazon reviews of The Passage, by Justin Cronin.

The Master Butchers Singing Club

Think about how music connects us - to each other, and to places and events and communities.  This is the underlying glue that ties together - but does not necessarily bind -- all the various characters of Louise Erdrich's novel, The Master Butchers Singing Club.

It begins as Fidelis Waldvogel returns to his small hometown in Germany, having survived WW1.  He marries the pregnant wife of his dead soldier buddy and eventually emigrates and settles in North Dakota, having carried a suitcase full of sausages and his butcher's knives across the sea.  His powerful physical strength is balanced with a soft, full tenor voice.  He starts a local singing club, just as his father had done with the other butchers back in Germany.  Their bonding is a key part of the story of the town, and music has a forward theme throughout the story, which is told in alternating patterns in the voices of several characters.

Other characters are introduced - some from the old country, some from the new small town - and all with hopes, dreams, fears and things they wish to hide.  The tale is epic, if somewhat disjointed, and in the end, I am left feeling somewhat battered.  There is much joy and beauty - the result of hard work and a non-demonstrative, rather practical, yet deeply felt loves.  There is not a lot of dialog - the story unfolds mostly through industry, action and individual reflection.  There is also much sadness and despair.  Love that is freely given, but not unconditionally. 

Fidelis is a kind, upstanding, strong man.  He loves his wife and children.  He is a master butcher, and takes pride in his work.  He is also private and carries the burden of war and loss.  I just read this whole novel about him and his clan, and I feel I have not met him.  Much of the story is told from the view of his eventual wife Delphine -- she we get to know, but she is also driven by loss and misery of her own, and
I am saddened by the fact that she never really gets to experience unbridled joy. 

Through all this, there are moments tender, hilarious escapades and impressive devotion.  These characters are intense and exhausting to be around.

I think I liked it. I wanted to know the end of the story.  But I leave it feeling somewhat dissatisfied.  Somehow the inputs don't quite seem to equal the outputs.  Then again, no one seems terribly unhappy, either.  Perhaps I wanted more for these kind and good people than they wanted themselves.  Perhaps I live in a time and with so many opportunities that I can't appreciate their acceptance of mere survival.

If you like a novel that is sweeping, epic even, you will enjoy following the trajectory of this family. 

The Master Butchers Singing Club, by Louise Erdrich.

The Help - Worth Reading In Hardback!

I confess that I rarely read fiction in hardcover (exception- the entire Harry Potter series!)  I just have so many great books to read that I figure I can always wait and see if it gets a hearty welcome.  Similarly, I rarely see a Broadway show until I can guage if it's for New Yorkers or tourists.  (I am still really a tourist here, after just six years in the Big City (as my neice calls it), but like to think I have New Yorker cultural tastes!)

The Help, a new novel out in hardback by Kathryn Stockett, is an exception. I recommend it immediately! 

The characters are so intense and so succulent that you won't want to put this book down. Even the really bitchy socialite that runs the women's league with a disgusting and iron hand is deliciously written. I read it in one big gulp and then when back to page one and read it again, more slowly, and savored it.  The writing is easy and simple, but extremely powerful. 

Stockett tells a story of the black maids in Jackson, Mississippi in the early 1960's.  That might sound trite at first, but the characters quickly come to life and you see through their eyes how hardened and cruel prejudice turns into self-protecting egotism.  In a way, it seems these attitudes become logical, pleasant even, to those who practice them.

I also love that the maids are keeping the whole town running - the white homes and parties as well as the black homes and church fairs, too.  How typical that the most under privileged women of a community are the ones we can't do without!

I read this book with such engagement and joy that several times I clapped my hands - much to the surprise and amusement of people sitting next to me in a cafe.  "That must be one heck of a book," the gentleman at the next table says with raised eyebrows, while his wife gives me a look of pure annoyance.  I was glad in this case to have the pleasant company of my book!

Don't get me wrong - this is not a book about a happy situation. Not everyone gets what they deserve - although finally, at the end, the nasty one gets hers. (Thank goodness.)

It's a story of struggle and self fulfillment and lack of opportunity and frustration and battles against the establishment.  It's also incredibly human and warm and inspiring.  Under similar pressure and lack of support, I wonder if I would do half as well as the maids.  Probably not.

Thanks to my friend Gene who told me about this book while we were wandering in a cool bookstore in Brooklyn. If you are in a book club - read this one soon!

Get The Help, but Kathryn Stockett.

The Skinny on The Addams Family (Broadway)

My dear friend and fellow theater lover Gwynn said it best as we escaped from The Addams Family on Broadway last night.

"That plot made Mama Mia seem like Anna Karenina."

Well said! 

As much as I love Nathan Lane and Bebe Neuwirth, even they could not save this one.  This show was boring, unimaginative and completely uninspired - in dialog, plot and musical composition.  Too bad, as the Addams Family heritage is rich with creative opportunity.

Living the Life in a Book

My sister and I both read Annie Barrows' Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Society earlier this year and loved it.  It's a great book - written in letters, easy to follow, touchingly presented and historical.  I hadn't realized that Guernsey - part of England's Channel Islands - was occupied by the Nazi's in WW2.  The characters are wonderful and the multi dimensional love stories are very engaging.  Turns out that what connects all these people, across miles, time and nationality is one woman, Elizabeth, who has incredible spirit, courage, beauty and kindness of heart.  A great story.

Usually, I read a book, love it, blog about it, tell five friends and then buy it for a few people.  Wendy, my sister, outdid me here.  She convinced me that we really should GO to Guernsey.

She was inspired by the book, but her conviction was solidified when she was on holiday in Antigua this past winter and met a family from Guernsey.  Those people were very nice and said, as we all often do on holiday, "Oh yes, come visit."  That is a very dangerous thing to say to a Miller sister.

We showed up in October.

I had said to her, "Are you sure you want to go to Guernsey?  I mean, what do we do there?  Look at cows?  Read books?  Walk in meadows?"

Wendy was undaunted.  Turns out that Guernsey is lovely.   The cows are plentiful and gentle.  (And brown.) Wendy's new friends were incredibly kind to us, and had us over to dinner twice plus drove us around the island and helped us find the best ice cream - made from Guernsey cow milk, of course! Delicious.  The butter is also pretty amazing.

The island is rough - which makes for beautiful cliff walks.  We did a lot of that. We also ate good seafood, explored museums, rode our bikes around the small country roads (and I mean small as in narrow - two cars can not pass on many of them, so there is a bit of backing up).   They have their own currency and tax laws, so if you want to keep your money there, they welcome that.

I love it when you visit a place and the locals give you a flavor for whatever makes them most proud.  In this case, I heard a few of them tell me, "Oh, we don't belong to England. England belongs to us!"

The story is that way back in the day, when the Gaul commander later known to us as William the Conqueror came over to attack England, the Channel Islands were part of Gaul. Yes, this was 1165 or whatever.  The army stopped at the islands to rest/refuel, and picked up a few local Guernsey-an soldiers.  Thus, the Guernsey people were among the conquering army.   They win.  Get it?

A friend who is British and lives in London hears this story and says, "Huh.  You know this was all a long time ago?  Clearly they are part of England now."

Talk about local pride ;)

Even if you don't actually go to the Channel Islands, I recommend reading Barrows' Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

I discovered that I have two copies of the exact same edition of Dicken's "Tale of Two Cities." I bought them two months apart at the same bookstore, but one was $1 more. (The tag has a time stamp and price.). Clearly, I need to keep my books in better order!

Retirement Fantasies

I’m in Portland, ME for the weekend, doing some bike riding with a group of friends that I only see once a year, which is to do this weekend ride ;)  Very fun.  Lots of lighthouses. Low maintenance friends, which is nice.  I'm eating delicious clam chowder at every meal (literally - including breakfast).

I  love Portland, and have fantasies about moving here (while I’m still young – like next year!) and writing children’s books which will be moderately successful and earn me enough money for trips to places off the beaten path in Europe and South America.  Better yet, I will have many new four-year-old friends. 

I aspire to be the lady known locally as a bit eccentric.  You know, the one who acts in the local Playhouse and volunteers at the Firehouse fundraiser.  I will work at the library and teach computer skills.  I'll wear a fun Medieval hat - you know, the ones that are shaped like a cone and have a thick ribbon flowing down from the top - and read stories to young people.   I'll record their stories, too (the young people's) and do a "column" for both Highlights and NPR.  

Each morning, I’ll ride my bike to the farmers’ market, and spend the early evenings cooking fabulous, creative meals.  We'll open good wine and critique the flavors.

You are totally invited to come eat!

Gimme Shelter - a Memoir

Full disclosure: my friend Mary Elizabeth Williams wrote this book.  She was sort of a mess during the whole writing/publishing experience.  I've read the book. Now I know why.

Gimme Shelter is so heart-breakingly honest that it's almost painful to read. Just like when a friend tells you a story of such drama, of a goal so eagerly sought, of a journey so fraught with hurdles and a distant triumph that, once achieved, is not quite the beauty we imagined.  You cringe, even as you celebrate the victory.

But then again that is what buying a dream home in New York City, is like.  And Mary Beth tells it straight from the hip.

Since I know her, I can hear her voice as I read.  The liberal use of the f-word.  The sarcasm. The pop culture references (that I had to Google!).  It's all her.  It's a lot of her, generously shared.  Note to self: never write a memoir!

And the story is uniquely hers as well, which is why it is such a great book.  She gives us insights into the history of New York neighborhoods and the complexities of real estate sales and home finance, but from the perspective of a renter who really, really, really just wants her share of the sidewalk to call a stoop.  So she's a little compulsive and anal about it.  If it all went smoothly, the book would be boring.  But damn, this girl gets the job done.

We can appreciate this mix of childlike joy and wise consumer - who hasn't found themselves balancing the emotional and intellectual sides of a major life decision?

No matter where you live or how much you pay for your home/rental, I recommend GImme Shelter for it's shock of a story, and beauty of a tale well told.

Pick up Gimme Shelter here. 

Slow Man

We take so much for granted, especially when we are most blessed.  Our health, of course.  And friendships.  And taking time to listen, and understand. 

Perhaps this is why Slow Man by Nobel-winning author J. M. Coetzee is so compelling.  It's about Paul Rayment, a 60ish, independent, fit man in Australia who is hit by a young driver while riding his bike. He loses a leg, but also loses his sense of self.  His life is uprooted, of course, and he loses his independence.  He did not have many friends or close associates before the accident, but his life was a routine, and a comfortable one.

He loss of the leg shakes him.  He begins to look inside and likes not very much what he sees.  He falls in love with his (married) nurse - an honest and understandable transference - and then becomes rather intertwined with her family and her history.   It's painful to watch him struggle in this situation - especially after he clumsily blurts out his feelings. 

A novelist enters his life at random, and she possesses and uncanny (and almost mystical) ability to read him and force him to address the loose ends of his life.  She is, quite frankly, spooky, and there are moments where I can't believe he puts up with her or gives her the power to guide his life.  But then again, he lost his leg and his faith in himself.  He's lost.  Stumbling both physically and emotionally.

His hobby of collecting old sepia photographs of the Australian bush pioneers becomes a metaphor for his new life.   These are old, weathered recordings of hard lives.  He is fascinated and repelled by the  seriousness of the faces, the dirt and grime.  The camaraderie of the men.  The exhaustion of the mothers.  The photos are a record of history, part of what makes us moderns what we are.  And yet, they are strangers - both in name and family.  We are connected, but not familiar.  The young people Paul encounters encourage him to join the world - a modern world.  He resists this with a discomfort born of the pain of not being able to make all the choices.  "An accident?"  he says at one point.  "What is an accident but something we wish we had control over."

Later, the strange, other-worldly novelist says to Paul (on page 182):

"You cannot love by an act of will, Paul.  We have to learn.  That is why souls descend from their realm on high and submit to being born again: so that, as they grow up in our company, they can lead us along the hard road of loving.  From the beginning you have glimpsed  something angelic in Drago, and I am sure you are not wrong. Drago has remained in touch with his origins longer than most children. Overcome your disappointment, your irritation. Learn from Drago while you can.  One of these  days the last wisps of glory that trail behind him will vanish into the air, and he will simply be one of us."

Paul responds to this bit of wisdom with skepticism.  But she believes what she is saying.  Her confidence in this as truth makes him question his lack of faith.

Do we all have angels among us?  Surely this is true - or perhaps it is just humans around us who occasionally offer angelic acts.  Either way, Coetzee's philosophical novel lets us dream that we would rise to a  big life challenge in a way that is more decisive and rational than poor Paul Rayment.  That instead of succumbing to the hole that the missing leg makes in his life, that he will rise up - be an inspiration. 

Paul is no inspiration, to us nor himself.  And yet, his questions are the questions of the ages.  Of us all.  And that is what makes a great story. 

I found the combination of humanity and aspiration in this short novel quite intriguing. Disturbing in some ways, but always engaging.