STACKED

books

The fast and furious

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I have read quite a few books in the last couple of weeks, but I have had a hard time sitting down to write a full out review of anything just yet. But here’s a treat: Twitter-style book reviews. A quick selection of recent reads reviewed in 140 characters or less.

Rumors by Anna Godbersen

Book two of “Luxe” series reunites us with a character we grew to love in book 1, introduces new romances, and ends with an unexpected twist.

The Other Side of the Island by Allegra Goodman

Disappointingly underdeveloped dystopian novel reminiscent of 1984. Themes of freewill and government power but plot/character holes abound.

The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls

Memoir gracefully and tactfully depicts a dysfunctional family life of children living with an emotionally-absent mom and alcoholic dad.

The Best Casserole Cookbook Ever by Beatrice Ojakangas

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As a cookbook lover, I’ve been overwhelmed by the sheer selection in my local branch. However, when the 2009 James Beard Award nominees for cookbooks were announced, I braved the catalog to order Beatrice Ojakangas’ latest venture, appropriately called The Best Casserole Cookbook Ever: With More Than 500 Recipes! The tagline contains all that you really need to know about this massive book – it’s huge. Utterly teaming with delectable recipes. And really, they all sound good.

Ojakangas is known for her Scandanavian cookery. A native of Duluth, Minnesota, her ancestry is entirely Finnish. Her first writing venture, The Finnish Cookbook, is still in print – a marvel for a cookbook published in 1964. The Best Casserole Cookbook is her 27th published cookbook. In a recent interview with the Toledo Blade, Ojakangas says the publication of this book is “”very timely,” offering “economical meals that are simply made with ingredients that you won’t spend a fortune to buy, or that you already have on hand. It’s comfort food.”

The day I received this tome, I sat down and started reading it like a book. Normally, I like cookbooks with full-color pictures for each recipe; I’ve been spoiled by the gorgeous cookbooks published by Clarkson Potter. The Best Casserole Cookbook lacks the excessive photography of my favorite volumes, but it does have a few lovely inserts with some mouth-watering photographs. Ojakangas divides the book into several categories, starting with the basics. I loved this section, especially seeing that my early casserole attempts centered around cream of mushroom soup that always seems too salty. One Christmas, I made cream of mushroom soup purely for use in the green bean casserole. Ojakangas shares my disdain for the sodium-packed, overly processed stuff, so she explains how to make different sauces that can act as healthier substitutes for Campbell’s. In the following chapters, she details appetizers, meats, vegetarian, grains, desserts, and even breads that one can make in a casserole dish. I especially enjoyed the “Casseroles for Two” chapter – as a single person, it’s sometimes difficult to justify making a casserole intended for 12 people, but Ojakangas’ smaller portion sizes are spot-on.

Of course, I had to try a number of these recipes. My favorite? I made the Broccoli and Chicken Casserole for Two for a friend of mine one weekday night. The recipe was insanely simple, made with sour cream and parmesan instead of a heavy cheese sauce. I assembled it in less than 20 minutes, popped in the fridge, then put it in the oven when I came home from work the next day. My friend had never eaten a casserole before, so he was surprised to find that he liked it so much!

Next week, I’m making a Southwestern Breakfast Casserole with chorizo, queso fresco, and eggs for a work meeting. We have another potluck the following week – I know that Moussaka with Lots of Vegetables will be my contribution. And I’m sure I can find an audience for Spicy Cheese and Green Chile Dip. When I (reluctantly) returned the book to the library, I forced my co-workers to browse… and I saw several people making copies of the pages to try for dinner later. I may have to buy myself a copy of this book; it will look beautiful next to my worn copy of Mark Bittman’s How To Cook Everything.

The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner’s Semester at America’s Holiest University, Kevin Roose

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One of my favorite reads in the last couple of years was A.J. Jacobs’ A Year of Living Biblically, published in late 2007. Jacobs, who admits to not being the most religious person, spent a year living as close to the Bible as possible. While it sounded like it could get out of hand real fast — at least in my opinion — I found the book did a great job of treating a touchy subject like religion well. I learned a lot and gained a sense of respect for very devout people. I’d say his book changed my mind about many things.

Suffice to say, I was excited to pick up Kevin Roose’s The Unlikely Disciple, which came out this year. Roose’s book is an exploration into a semester at Liberty University, also known as Jerry Falwell’s dream evangelical liberal arts university. Roose took a semester off school from the ultra liberal Brown University to become a student at Liberty and understand who attends the school and exactly what the educational and social life is like at such a conservative institution.

Because this is a work of non-fiction, there’s not a lot to discuss plot-wise in a review. I found a lot of what Roose learned in his adventure to be entirely new to me, too. My perceptions and ideas of such a place were skewed much as Roose’s were and it was enjoyable to read about a lot of those perceptions being just flat out wrong. Perhaps it’s my background in psychology, but there is something fascinating for me in learning my ideas are actually far off the mark about things like this. Moreover, I loved seeing Roose change as a person, too. He made good friends with many people at Liberty, and I found the conclusion of his time at Liberty to be just….sweet. I won’t go into details about that aspect nor about the huge event that happened at the end of his semester which I had not even remembered to think about until he reported it.

This is a book that people who liked Jacobs’ work will like, as well as people interested in how a facility like Liberty runs [less on the administrative side and more on the social/student side]. The Unlikely Disciple is written in a journalistic style that makes it easy to skip around when parts get dull or are just not of interest to you as a reader. I appreciated that as some parts did a little dragging. Roose is respectful, attentive to detail, and does a good job of telling a story.

Throughout the book, I did have an ethical question that did not arise out of what Roose was doing. Roose admitted in the first chapter of his book that he interned for Jacobs while at Brown. Considering the time frame in which Jacobs did his experiment and published a book and the internship and subsequent experiment by Roose, it seems almost certain to me this entire story is ingenuine in its goals. I dislike speaking ill of a good story, but I do have a problem with the notion that Roose either a. did this because his mentor did it, b. did it at the suggestion of his mentor, c. got himself the book deal before embarking on the experiment, or d. some combination therein. There is a lot of discussion in the reading world about Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love because she got her book deal before embarking on her life changing journey. Well, it seems to me that Roose got his book deal before deciding to do this experiment.

How geniune are the lessons then? Does it impact how you read the book? I’m curious because I really did enjoy the concept and the way the story comes together, but there is a lingering feeling of disingenuity in this book that makes me question both Roose and Jacobs and makes me a bit hesitant to want to read more from either of them. It seems more about the money than about the story, in a manner that most journalists seems to rail against.

Should we not read or promote the books? Nah, I think people will enjoy them and I enjoyed them. But there’s a point where you need to take it with a grain of salt and constantly question your author. Perhaps the real value is in enjoying the story while also being able to think critically about the source and the spin — something invaluable in navigating a world fraught with information and disinformation.

Genesis by Bernard Beckett

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Genesis by Bernard Beckett was STACKED’s first round-robin review choice. Each of us read the book and offer our takes on this new title. We took something different, so enjoy and if you’ve read it, PLEASE share your takes!

Kimberly:

I’ve mentioned before that I love dystopias. “Love” may not even be a strong enough word for the way I feel about them. It began with The Giver in middle school and was solidified when I read Biting the Sun as a teenager. (These two books, plus Margaret Atwood’s Oryx and Crake, form the pinnacle of great dystopias, in my oh so humble opinion.) Since then, I’ve followed a steady diet of dystopian fiction, reading mostly everything I could get my hands on. There have been some duds, some gems, and some in-between.

So is Genesis a dud or a gem? Easy answer – definitely a gem.

Genesis is still a weird book, even by dystopia standards. The story is set sometime in the nebulous future on what used to be New Zealand. The world has been devastated by a plague, and the island is the only place left inhabited. Anax, our protagonist, wants to enter the prestigious Academy, and in order to do so, she must pass a grueling four-hour oral test. This book is the record of that test, and through the test, the reader learns about the world in which Anax lives.

Genesis is a short novel – a novella, really – and its length is one of its strengths. The format of the book is mostly a sustained conversation between Anax and her examiners. Due to this format, most of what happens is told rather than shown, which is usually considered a major taboo when writing fiction. Beckett makes it work. Coming in at just over a hundred pages, the conversation could become tedious or frustrating if it went on for much longer. As it is, the book is just long enough to keep the reader in suspense, and just short enough to prevent the reader from being so frustrated as to give up.

Dystopias are always better when you don’t know much about the plot, so I’m not going to go into it any further here. Most dystopias have a grand twist – or several twists – at the end that try their best to rip your heart out and shake up your world, making you question everything you just read. I like to believe that predicting these twists has become old hat for me, but often I am still surprised. Genesis surprised me. After I had finished the book, I had to open it back up to re-read several sections. I’m still thinking about it many days later. The twist makes the book, but that’s not the only thing that recommends it as a good read. Beckett presents some enduring questions about the nature of humanity (that have admittedly been asked before), and his writing is excellent.

I think Genesis will appeal to fans of the subgenre who are eager for something new and fresh. While Beckett certainly uses tropes that have been used before (the four levels of society are particularly reminiscent of Brave New World), the story is told in a unique way, and the ending is surprising and deceptive in its simplicity. It was hugely fun to go back through the book and pick up the seemingly innocuous clues that would have given away the secret, if only I had paid closer attention. Despite its brevity, Beckett’s book is deep. For those readers who may not be quite as familiar with the dystopia canon, this book may seem really “out there.” I don’t think it’s something they can’t handle, though, and because of their ignorance of the subgenre, the book may be all the more exciting and make that much more of an impact.

Bonuses: When you’re done reading, take another glance at the cover. Something there will have a different meaning than when you first looked. Also, the book’s Amazon page has a simple, but cool, trailer.


Kelly:
This book flew! When I began and throughout the first three hours of the interview, I kept thinking about books that delve into philosophical arguments like Ishmael and Sophie’s World. Though Genesis is based on a dystopian society and the history and philosophies underpinning the story are entirely fictitious, it was saddled in such a way to be almost realistic in a future world.

I’m being purposely vague in my review because that is how a reader should approach this title. You’ll read it and be both thoroughly confused and understand exactly what is going on — Anax’s exam is about sharing her beliefs in what happened during the history of her society, so there is a lot of history and postulation that the reader is in on and which leaves the reader out. This is okay.

Though there were times I wanted to reread and try to understand the history as intimately as possible, I did not and recommend not doing so. Getting the idea of what is happening and focusing on Anax, rather than what she’s saying, will pay off heavily in the end. This is the sort of book that kept me wanting to read. I kept thinking about it when I put it down, and I kept thinking to myself that I knew what was going to happen.
But the ending? What a twist! I was convinced I knew what was going to happen, but then I was thrown off kilter and felt like Beckett did a real service to me for that. Genesis was not the book I was expecting, and for that reason, I really felt like this was one of the best I’ve read this year.

Genesis will appeal to those who love dystopias, philosophically-driven books, or something “just different,” if you will.

Although we’re round robin reviewing this one, I have to say that keeping the story vague is important; to really get the pleasure of reading this one, you have to go in knowing very little and build your own expectations and conclusions. Likewise, this very fast read is one I wanted to open again as soon as I finished it. I’m pretty excited with how much exposure this one is getting. I received it as an advanced reading copy but just as I got it in the mail, I noticed it all over the airport, too. I think this is one of those titles that can appeal to so many readers, but it will require the reader put aside their biases — those who have been turned off to “harder” reading (think of those I mentioned before, as well as other titles like Candide) might not be willing to invest in this one. I think it could help shift those biases, though.

Jennifer:

I’m going to be the lone dissenter in this love-fest for Genesis. I agree, this is a well-written, interesting book containing an unusual dystopia within its pages. But after reading, I can’t say that I liked this novella.

I found that Genesis has more in common with a screenplay than a novel. I kept imagining how it would be filmed. The recited dialogues would be flashbacks filmed with soft lighting. The holograms would really just cut away to tense battles of wills reminiscent of 12 Angry Men. Some sort of tricky device would be used to reveal the final twists; I can see an aspiring director filming everything from a first person point of view in order to emphasize the final reveal. With a little reformatting, Beckett’s work could easily be turned into a script – just change the spacing, add a couple of sluglines to establish place, and the transformation is complete! The structure lends itself to a future movie deal. Intentional? It’s hard to tell.

Maybe I’m a cynical product of my surroundings. I live in Los Angeles, a place where the majority of media consumption is film-related. A frightening number of my friends call themselves aspiring screenwriters; dystopia is a popular topic. I’m reminded of the inordinately large number of student films deal with similar philosophical issues… replete with unexpected turn at the end.

I read through this book thinking, “I’ve seen this before.” I know much is intentional, especially in regards to Beckett’s inclusion of classical philosophy and Judeo-Christian theology. Those examples declare themselves loudly, pointing to their sources with little subtlety. Glimpses of modern popular culture rare their heads within this novel as well. Joseph and the young Adam reek of “Maverick” and “Goose” from Top Gun. I could imagine stormtroopers from Star Wars as soldiers in the New Republic. And the first encounter between Pericles and Anax contains much of the simmering sexual chemistry of Sarah and Charles from John Fowles’ The French Lieteunant’s Woman. It feels like Beckett draws upon familar myths to lull the reader into a sense of understanding of this world and our protagonist.

This is a smart book, going beyond a simple amalgamation of all the ideas presented in Philosophy 101. Beckett seems like he genuinely cares about the nature of humanity. But in the end, something rings false for me. I never full engaged with the history lesson or our historian. Unlike Kelly and Kimberly, I had real problems getting the willpower to struggle through the countless arguments and conversations. I felt manipulated and unwilling to draw my own conclusions from the novel. It just wasn’t for me.

I will, however, agree that the cover is exceptionally well-done. I love the additional layers of meaning that develop after reading the novella.

Getting sidetracked

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The title of this post was originally “In defense of romances.” I am an unashamed lover of historical romances, and I planned on using this space to delve into the many wonderful things about them. So there I was, merrily surfing the web for the bits and pieces that would serve as my defense for the genre I love, when I got sidetracked. By this:

It’s the book trailer for Julia Quinn’s newest, What Happens in London, due out on June 30. I confess, I winced while watching it. Many words sprang to mind: cheesy, painful, embarrassing, funny. Where to start? The atrocious accent, the sepia-tone colors, the overly dramatic acting… I’ll still read the book anyway, since I know and love Julia Quinn’s writing (one of the few romance authors to garner a starred review from Publisher’s Weekly), but this trailer wouldn’t be the first thing I’d show to someone I was trying to convert to romance-reading. I can find it in my heart to love the trailer, much in the same way I love The Crawling Eye, but I can’t honestly say it’s any good.

I have a love-hate relationship with book trailers. Some of them are so well-done, even with minimal production resources, they make me want to run out and read the book immediately. Others…well, others make me want to say defensively, “Not all books are as lame as this trailer makes that one look!” Most books are decidedly un-lame, but you wouldn’t know it judging by a lot of the trailers floating around on Youtube these days.

I think book trailers have a goal in common with this blog: to “entice non-readers to think about reading in fun and interesting ways.” However, the quality of book trailers is so hit and miss that I wonder if they’re any good at it. I get excited about many of the trailers, but I also get excited just by seeing the cover of a much-anticipated new book. (My reaction upon seeing Shannon Hale’s newest book being given away at a conference: jumping up and down, literally.) Have people who aren’t avid readers been hooked by a trailer, or has it merely made them giggle? Am I totally wrong about the trailer above, thinking it’s terrible when it’s actually completely awesome? Do I just need to learn how to have fun and stop expecting book trailers to rock my world like movie trailers sometimes do?

A post in defense of romances (particularly my favorite, historical romances) is coming soon…