I really enjoy the Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom series by Julie Kenner. I had started reading the series years ago and just recently had the time to catch up.
The premise is exactly as it sounds: sort of a "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" grows up. We first meet Kate Conner in Carpe Demon, in which we find that she is an ordinary soccer mom living in San Diablo, California (every time I see the town's name, I think, "Holy demons, Batman! This means trouble!"). Well, maybe she's not so ordinary. As the story unfolds, we discover she was orphaned as a very young child, raised in an orphanage in Vatican city, and trained to be a Hunter, a member of the elite and secret team of demon-slayers known as the Forza (Forza Scura, I think was the whole name, but I may be wrong). Think Buffy, but more cutting edge and with a whole organization of very devout Catholic demon-slayers standing behind her. Before Kate was out of her teens, she had saved the world from various demon attacks dozens of times.
But Kate and her partner Eric fell in love and married, which is risky in a job where there's no life security, let alone job security. So Kate and Eric retired, moved to sunny California, put their past behind them and started a family. California was great for them; historically there was very little demon presence or activity, and they were able to have a new life. Unfortunately, one last demon attack killed Eric, and Kate struggled along raising their young daughter alone. Kate eventually found another man (Stuart) to love, married him, and they now have an infant son. And then, as the saying goes, all hell breaks loose. How can Kate keep her family and San Diablo safe, keep her demon-slaying a secret, lose the baby weight and still keep up with her PTO activities and church committees?
The sequels California Demon, Demons Are Forever and Deja Demon continue on the same path--over the course of these books, Kate reluctantly but officially comes out of retirement to save the world from demons (and their zombie minions) while getting back in shape and coping with everyday life.
She tells her best friend about her past (and current) activities, deals with free-lance Hunters and Hunters-gone-bad, discovers that her late husband Eric is not quite as "late" as she had thought, goes to Mass and discovers that one of the priests, Father Ben, is assigned to be her new alimentatore (like a secret agent's handler, or like Buffy's Watcher), and copes with all of the "clean-up" chores that Forza's body-disposal teams would normally handle (in locations which are historical hot-beds of demon activity).
An old Hunter (there are very few who survive to middle age, so this one must have been one of the VERY best and luckiest Hunters out there), Eddie, shows up in town, homeless, scruffy, and considered to be insane (because he keeps talking about his past in a dazed/drunken rambling). Kate sees him as a great resource and possible mentor, so she steps up and claims he is her late husband Eric's great-grandfather, takes him home, cleans him up, straightens him out, and he becomes part of her crazy household menage.
Meanwhile, teenage daughter Allie discovers her mom is a "kick-ass demon-hunter" and wants to train to be one too, son Timmy becomes a toddler ("NO! Nononononono."), husband Stuart decides to run for District Attourney, late husband Eric tells her he wants her back, and best friend Laura finds out that her husband has been cheating on her and divorces him. Eventually Allie finds out her dad is still (or again, or something) alive, Kate discovers she is part of a prophecy about killing a big-shot demon (not just sending him back to hell where he would gather strength and eventually come back, which is the usual way), Eddie/Gramps gets a girlfriend (er, old-lady-librarian-friend), Father Ben is killed, and Stuart discovers what Kate has been up to. All while Kate is being the ideal wife, perfect political hostess, great mom, good Catholic, terrific PTO chairwoman and community volunteer, and fabulous researcher--or failing spectacularly and picking up the pieces. (There's only a little angst, surprisingly.) But she can still whup them demons!
I've just now picked up the final book (so far): Demon Ex Machina. I have no doubt it will be as much fun to read as the others. I hope it isn't really the final book, but I'm not sure yet. You can check Julie Kenner's website to find out if another is in the works, though it doesn't look like it at the moment. Watching Kate juggle her home life with her career is more entertaining than any stories about housewives out on tv. [For the record, the "Desperate Housewives" show and the various reality shows about "Real Housewives" just have never interested me. I rather resent the idea that those lazy, aggressive, selfish, slutty, vulgar idiots with more money than brains are supposed to represent anything about actual housewives like me. But then, I don't much care for soap operas, either--at least not since "General Hospital" stopped using international spy-ring storylines in the '80s. So if you are looking for books that will interest fans of those shows, don't look here in this blog! Books or shows about believable, fun, struggling, in-over-their-heads, clever, sexy, faithful housewives, especially in crazy unusual situations, yes.]
Who will like the Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom books? Fans of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" or any humorous vampire-slaying, zombie-killing, or demon-exorcism novels. Maybe the female fans of "Supernatural" and some of the ghost-hunting shows. Folks who like any of Julie Kenner's other novels. Those who appreciate a little bit of romance within marriage with no graphic sex-scenes. Housewives (or mothers of toddlers) who wish they were also super-heroes (that's pretty much all of us). Super-heroes who happen to be not-very-good housewives. Moms struggling to lose the pregnancy-weight and get back into "fighting" shape. Teens who wish their mom was cooler (and moms who wish their teens thought their moms were cooler). Women who like the sometimes-snarky sense of humor on "House" (this is much milder, kinder, gentler, but still kind of snarky sometimes). People who enjoy the occasional slapstick scene where you think nothing more could happen to make this disaster funnier--and then it does. Older teen girls who are moving up from Juv or YA fantasy books where ordinary kids/teens save the world. While this book is unabashedly paranormal chick-lit, men who like the thought of being married to Buffy the Slayer all grown up and dressed in leather may get a kick out of it, too.
Now if I could only lose the pregnancy weight after 17 years... Bye, dear--have a nice time at college while I kick some demon behinds! Ha!
Friday, October 21, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Second Helpings from the Smorgasbord
Back to Silverlock. Still the first chapter, still swimming for our lives...
The stranger clinging to the mast is the survivor of a different shipwreck. He informs Shandon that his ship ran afoul of the Maelstrom and that by diving for the spar they hold, he wasn't dragged down with the rest. This is a reference to the short story, "A Descent into the Maelstrom" by Edgar Allen Poe, which is well worth the pause to read.
When Shandon asks the stranger where they are, the stranger replies, "Somewhere off the Commonwealth is the best I can tell you." He is referring to The Commonwealth of Letters, first named in the play "The Forced Marriage" by Molière (the link takes you to a book of his plays, translated into English from the original French; this one starts on page 215). According to "A Reader's Guide to the Commonwealth" by Fred Lerner and Anne Braude, the Commonwealth of Letters comprises the classics of world literature considered as a body.
Aha! So having met the two main characters, though we know very little about either, we now have the setting of the novel. It takes place in a land which consists of all the great classics of literature... All at the same time. Though there is a certain loose geographical conformity to sequential time as it relates to literary genre--did that even make sense to someone reading this? Maybe I'll attach a graphic of the map once we get that far. (The juxtaposition of some of the different sources has the feel of, as The Doctor says, "wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff." I refer to Doctor Who, which sadly post-dates Silverlock--I'd love to see The Doctor in such a setting.) And while Silverlock might still have been an amusing fantasy novel if it were shorn of all its literary references, it is a truly great picaresque because Myers has opened the door to use elements from ALL of literature (including older picaresques, which makes those sections of Silverlock a sort of meta-picaresque).
[I will interject a note here: Another story which uses a variant on this Commonwealth of Letters setting conceit is the much more recent Thursday Next series by Jasper Fforde, though in that series there is an actual (if somewhat nebulous) dividing line between the real world and the world of literature.]
Shandon's companion takes a sort of satisfaction in Shandon's company; it means something to him. He says that he had been worried that land wouldn't be close enough, but since Shandon has come along, they are getting somewhere. "It ties things together in right Delian fashion." My take on this is that nothing happens to literary characters unless readers (external to the story) dive in and experience the adventure beside them--so Shandon's arrival is the motivating force for an adventure with the stranger, and the Commonwealth can't be far away. As for the 'Delian' reference, the stranger refers to the oracle of Delian Apollo. I'll leave that alone for the moment, as it has significance later in the story.
This time, I've managed to cover less than one page of Silverlock. Next time, we can discover the identity of the stranger and his role in the novel, while still clinging to a spar and treading water. When we finally manage to make it to land (I'm guessing at least two or three blog entries from now), we'll have finished the first chapter. I hope this inspires someone to read Silverlock with me and to play the reference game!
The stranger clinging to the mast is the survivor of a different shipwreck. He informs Shandon that his ship ran afoul of the Maelstrom and that by diving for the spar they hold, he wasn't dragged down with the rest. This is a reference to the short story, "A Descent into the Maelstrom" by Edgar Allen Poe, which is well worth the pause to read.
When Shandon asks the stranger where they are, the stranger replies, "Somewhere off the Commonwealth is the best I can tell you." He is referring to The Commonwealth of Letters, first named in the play "The Forced Marriage" by Molière (the link takes you to a book of his plays, translated into English from the original French; this one starts on page 215). According to "A Reader's Guide to the Commonwealth" by Fred Lerner and Anne Braude, the Commonwealth of Letters comprises the classics of world literature considered as a body.
Aha! So having met the two main characters, though we know very little about either, we now have the setting of the novel. It takes place in a land which consists of all the great classics of literature... All at the same time. Though there is a certain loose geographical conformity to sequential time as it relates to literary genre--did that even make sense to someone reading this? Maybe I'll attach a graphic of the map once we get that far. (The juxtaposition of some of the different sources has the feel of, as The Doctor says, "wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff." I refer to Doctor Who, which sadly post-dates Silverlock--I'd love to see The Doctor in such a setting.) And while Silverlock might still have been an amusing fantasy novel if it were shorn of all its literary references, it is a truly great picaresque because Myers has opened the door to use elements from ALL of literature (including older picaresques, which makes those sections of Silverlock a sort of meta-picaresque).
[I will interject a note here: Another story which uses a variant on this Commonwealth of Letters setting conceit is the much more recent Thursday Next series by Jasper Fforde, though in that series there is an actual (if somewhat nebulous) dividing line between the real world and the world of literature.]
Shandon's companion takes a sort of satisfaction in Shandon's company; it means something to him. He says that he had been worried that land wouldn't be close enough, but since Shandon has come along, they are getting somewhere. "It ties things together in right Delian fashion." My take on this is that nothing happens to literary characters unless readers (external to the story) dive in and experience the adventure beside them--so Shandon's arrival is the motivating force for an adventure with the stranger, and the Commonwealth can't be far away. As for the 'Delian' reference, the stranger refers to the oracle of Delian Apollo. I'll leave that alone for the moment, as it has significance later in the story.
This time, I've managed to cover less than one page of Silverlock. Next time, we can discover the identity of the stranger and his role in the novel, while still clinging to a spar and treading water. When we finally manage to make it to land (I'm guessing at least two or three blog entries from now), we'll have finished the first chapter. I hope this inspires someone to read Silverlock with me and to play the reference game!
Monday, October 10, 2011
Smorgasbord
Here's the first and mightiest of the picaresque novels I'd like to explore: Silverlock by John Myers Myers, first published in 1949. And no, that is not a typo. Both his middle name and his surname were Myers, as apparently he was descended from the Myers family on both his mother's and his father's side--so his middle name was his mother's maiden name, if I understand correctly.
Silverlock is quite simply amazing. The main character and narrator, A. Clarence Shandon, a world-weary, tough-talking, hard-boiled Chicago modernist/realist (similar to the gumshoes of Myers' contemporary authors--think Bogie in "The Maltese Falcon"), takes an ocean cruise and becomes shipwrecked, rescued, abducted, involved in military invasions, rescued, embroiled in love affairs, rescued... all the while learning to open his mind, live in the moment, and love life. You get the idea of the bones of the plot. Further actions and character development (especially character development) are driven by his adventures.
The genius is in the details. Shandon, a.k.a. Silverlock (from the white celtic streak in his otherwise dark hair), has boarded the ship Naglfar, so right up front, you know he's in for trouble. Here's a marvelous first sentence for you: "If I had cared to live, I would have died." That is, the ship is caught in a storm, and those who struggle to lower the lifeboats are dragged down with the ship, while Shandon, who shrugs fatalistically (que será será) and clings to nothing, is washed away by the storm waves and is clear of her when she sinks. He then fails to struggle against the waves, so he both floats and conserves his energy.
The first obvious picaresque reference in the book, then, is to a shipwreck. But there are so many in literature, that it is impossible to get any more precise in identifying which shipwreck... Robinson Crusoe? Swiss Family Robinson? Gulliver's Travels? Even St. Paul in the Bible, though Shandon is no saint and St. Paul wasn't named Robinson... and given the coincidence of the name, by the way, if I were surnamed Robinson, I'd stay away from sailing! Perhaps the real-life story of the Titanic (and that begs the question, were any of the survivors of the Titanic surnamed Robinson)? In any case, any literary shipwreck which leads to a great adventure in a new country will do. Perhaps the reference is merely to the effectiveness of the shipwreck device for introducing new adventure throughout literature as a whole.
But the second picaresque reference, the Naglfar, is quite precise: it comes from Norse mythology. It is the doom ship made of dead men's fingernails which will appear at Ragnarok (the end of the world) and bring men to fight the gods. If you are into symbolism, I believe this means that Shandon's ship is bringing him to a place where he will fight his old assumptions and the priorities that rule his life, changing his life forever (or perhaps better phrased as "ending his old life"). Otherwise, it is just a cool way of saying the sea voyage is doomed before it begins. If you cannot stand to let a reference pass, here's a good place to stop and read some basic Norse myth for background.
The next reference--a very minor one--is in the same sentence, an instance of Myers' colorful writing: "On the fourth day, the fog cleared; but the sky did not, and the wind came up. It blew the Naglfar no good, and somewhere, nine days out of Baltimore, down she went." It is a reference, of course, to the old adage, "An ill wind blows no good." Not something that most people would even have to look up, but it underlines the idea that Myers has stuffed this book full of references and that you have to be on your toes if you want to find them all. Here's a question related to this particular quote: is there any story which refers to incidents that occur "nine days out of Baltimore" or any other port? I welcome suggestions. (I plan to check The Old Man and the Sea to see if that's the source, but somehow that doesn't quite seem to fit.)
[10/11/2011: I find that a google search on "nine days out of Baltimore" turns up an exciting narrative of a privateer during the War of 1812, who seized the Brig Nymph (for violating the non-importation act) nine days out of Baltimore, then proceeded to capture a number of British frigates and brigs. There were some pursuits, sea battles, ship burnings, trades of prisoners... The reference is in Splendid Deeds of American Heroes On Sea and Land by Fallows, Huntington and Reed, published in 1900, so possibly childhood reading for Myers. However, I suspect there is a more literary source which I haven't yet found. Maybe Billy Budd?]
Or another question, related to the following paragraph of Silverlock: is there any story/philosopher who says something to the effect of "Every man knows he will die; and nobody believes it. On that paradox stand not only a host of religions but the entity of sane being"? There is no doubt in my mind that Myers was classically educated and MUCH better read than I am (and the breadth of my reading isn't too shabby, I suppose, though sometimes I just go with escapist reading rather than trying for depth), so that is probably his paraphrase of some philosopher--maybe one of the existentialists. If it is not distilled from someone else's philosophical writing, then Myers was not only a highly gifted writer, but also a deep thinker and a philosopher in his own right. Again, suggestions for source are welcome.
Back to the story... Shandon has become apathetic over the years, and is indifferent to his plight (not believing, naturally, in his own non-existence, as indicated above). He swims and treads water, and suddenly sees a bit of wooden mast floating nearby. The spark of hope it gives him causes the catastrophic loss of his indifference (he begins to flail around trying to reach it and to despair of ever doing so), and he desperately swims to the mast, only to discover another survivor (from a different shipwreck) already clinging to it. We later get to know the other man very well, but at first he remains nameless, helping Shandon get a good grip on the mast, then commenting lightly, "you must be as fond of swimming as the Great Silkie himself." And this really is a good time for a break, while you read the folk song "The Grey (or Great) Silkie (or Selkie or Selchie) of Sule Skerry." (Here's a youtube video of The Corries singing it--very haunting but recorded quietly and with a very heavy Scots dialect; a Joan Baez version, still in dialect, that is a bit clearer and louder; a modern language (no dialect) Judy Collins version.)
There are years' worth of references in Silverlock (assuming you want to read it and them as we go along), so we'll spread them out. Each reference adds to the richness of the story, so it is worthwhile to know them. I may do a few blog entries in a row about Silverlock now, just to get through the rest of the first chapter, and I'm planning on adding links so you can read online or buy any of the works to which Myers refers.
Over the decades, Silverlock has been the subject of numerous find-the-reference games among literary circles. I'd like to play and hope you will join me. Of course, the jist of the game is this: if you haven't yet read the material to which Myers points, you won't recognize a reference when you see it--so you have to one-up each other in finding references and tracking them down. If you provide the answer to one of my questions, I'll acknowledge you in the blog as the master of that reference!
Silverlock is quite simply amazing. The main character and narrator, A. Clarence Shandon, a world-weary, tough-talking, hard-boiled Chicago modernist/realist (similar to the gumshoes of Myers' contemporary authors--think Bogie in "The Maltese Falcon"), takes an ocean cruise and becomes shipwrecked, rescued, abducted, involved in military invasions, rescued, embroiled in love affairs, rescued... all the while learning to open his mind, live in the moment, and love life. You get the idea of the bones of the plot. Further actions and character development (especially character development) are driven by his adventures.
The genius is in the details. Shandon, a.k.a. Silverlock (from the white celtic streak in his otherwise dark hair), has boarded the ship Naglfar, so right up front, you know he's in for trouble. Here's a marvelous first sentence for you: "If I had cared to live, I would have died." That is, the ship is caught in a storm, and those who struggle to lower the lifeboats are dragged down with the ship, while Shandon, who shrugs fatalistically (que será será) and clings to nothing, is washed away by the storm waves and is clear of her when she sinks. He then fails to struggle against the waves, so he both floats and conserves his energy.
The first obvious picaresque reference in the book, then, is to a shipwreck. But there are so many in literature, that it is impossible to get any more precise in identifying which shipwreck... Robinson Crusoe? Swiss Family Robinson? Gulliver's Travels? Even St. Paul in the Bible, though Shandon is no saint and St. Paul wasn't named Robinson... and given the coincidence of the name, by the way, if I were surnamed Robinson, I'd stay away from sailing! Perhaps the real-life story of the Titanic (and that begs the question, were any of the survivors of the Titanic surnamed Robinson)? In any case, any literary shipwreck which leads to a great adventure in a new country will do. Perhaps the reference is merely to the effectiveness of the shipwreck device for introducing new adventure throughout literature as a whole.
But the second picaresque reference, the Naglfar, is quite precise: it comes from Norse mythology. It is the doom ship made of dead men's fingernails which will appear at Ragnarok (the end of the world) and bring men to fight the gods. If you are into symbolism, I believe this means that Shandon's ship is bringing him to a place where he will fight his old assumptions and the priorities that rule his life, changing his life forever (or perhaps better phrased as "ending his old life"). Otherwise, it is just a cool way of saying the sea voyage is doomed before it begins. If you cannot stand to let a reference pass, here's a good place to stop and read some basic Norse myth for background.
The next reference--a very minor one--is in the same sentence, an instance of Myers' colorful writing: "On the fourth day, the fog cleared; but the sky did not, and the wind came up. It blew the Naglfar no good, and somewhere, nine days out of Baltimore, down she went." It is a reference, of course, to the old adage, "An ill wind blows no good." Not something that most people would even have to look up, but it underlines the idea that Myers has stuffed this book full of references and that you have to be on your toes if you want to find them all. Here's a question related to this particular quote: is there any story which refers to incidents that occur "nine days out of Baltimore" or any other port? I welcome suggestions. (I plan to check The Old Man and the Sea to see if that's the source, but somehow that doesn't quite seem to fit.)
[10/11/2011: I find that a google search on "nine days out of Baltimore" turns up an exciting narrative of a privateer during the War of 1812, who seized the Brig Nymph (for violating the non-importation act) nine days out of Baltimore, then proceeded to capture a number of British frigates and brigs. There were some pursuits, sea battles, ship burnings, trades of prisoners... The reference is in Splendid Deeds of American Heroes On Sea and Land by Fallows, Huntington and Reed, published in 1900, so possibly childhood reading for Myers. However, I suspect there is a more literary source which I haven't yet found. Maybe Billy Budd?]
Or another question, related to the following paragraph of Silverlock: is there any story/philosopher who says something to the effect of "Every man knows he will die; and nobody believes it. On that paradox stand not only a host of religions but the entity of sane being"? There is no doubt in my mind that Myers was classically educated and MUCH better read than I am (and the breadth of my reading isn't too shabby, I suppose, though sometimes I just go with escapist reading rather than trying for depth), so that is probably his paraphrase of some philosopher--maybe one of the existentialists. If it is not distilled from someone else's philosophical writing, then Myers was not only a highly gifted writer, but also a deep thinker and a philosopher in his own right. Again, suggestions for source are welcome.
Back to the story... Shandon has become apathetic over the years, and is indifferent to his plight (not believing, naturally, in his own non-existence, as indicated above). He swims and treads water, and suddenly sees a bit of wooden mast floating nearby. The spark of hope it gives him causes the catastrophic loss of his indifference (he begins to flail around trying to reach it and to despair of ever doing so), and he desperately swims to the mast, only to discover another survivor (from a different shipwreck) already clinging to it. We later get to know the other man very well, but at first he remains nameless, helping Shandon get a good grip on the mast, then commenting lightly, "you must be as fond of swimming as the Great Silkie himself." And this really is a good time for a break, while you read the folk song "The Grey (or Great) Silkie (or Selkie or Selchie) of Sule Skerry." (Here's a youtube video of The Corries singing it--very haunting but recorded quietly and with a very heavy Scots dialect; a Joan Baez version, still in dialect, that is a bit clearer and louder; a modern language (no dialect) Judy Collins version.)
There are years' worth of references in Silverlock (assuming you want to read it and them as we go along), so we'll spread them out. Each reference adds to the richness of the story, so it is worthwhile to know them. I may do a few blog entries in a row about Silverlock now, just to get through the rest of the first chapter, and I'm planning on adding links so you can read online or buy any of the works to which Myers refers.
Over the decades, Silverlock has been the subject of numerous find-the-reference games among literary circles. I'd like to play and hope you will join me. Of course, the jist of the game is this: if you haven't yet read the material to which Myers points, you won't recognize a reference when you see it--so you have to one-up each other in finding references and tracking them down. If you provide the answer to one of my questions, I'll acknowledge you in the blog as the master of that reference!
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Country Comfort Food
Well, I've debated with myself for months about how I want to format this blog, what book I want to start with, how to approach everything... Having carefully considered the whole topic, I'm lost. I have ideas, but none really work yet. So this first review is not any of the things I thought it would be. Perhaps I will come back later and reformat these early casual (chaotic) book reviews, just so things make sense.
My first menu offering, Dearest Dorothy, Slow Down, You're Wearing Us Out! by Charlene Baumbich, is contemporary fiction, and might be considered inspirational fiction, but here's the thing: no one is going to read this and think, "wow, how very cutting-edge! how deeply philosophical, how spiritually intense!" No, anyone who gobbles up this book is going to have warm fuzzy feelings and know they just consumed some EXCELLENT comfort food.
I picked this book up yesterday at a yard sale for 50 cents, and read it in one gulp. The main character, Dorothy Jean Wetstra, is 87 years old and still going (mostly) strong. She lives in a small town, Partonville, which the residents jokingly call Pardon-Me-Ville, and she is a character among characters. She drives a 1976 Lincoln Continental ("The Tank"). She sits on the Social Concerns Committee of the local United Methodist Church. She goes about her daily business, occasionally allowing her ongoing conversation with God ("The Big Guy") to be verbalized out loud, to the astonishment and amusement of her companions of the moment. Dorothy is a musician, a farmer, a widow, a mother and grandmother, an encourager and friend. She stands up to overbearing citizens of the town (including the mayor, an old frienemy) and takes the weak under her wing--but lately her heart has been giving her some trouble, and so has The Tank. In Slow Down..., Dorothy must deal with hicks and city slickers, while planning a large community event and making major changes in her own life, all of which she accomplishes with humor, grace, and aplomb. She certainly made me laugh and even brought a tear to my eye once or twice.
This is apparently the second book of a 6-book series, which I am going to buy, without question. (Dearest Dorothy, Are We There Yet?, Dearest Dorothy, Help, I've Lost Myself!, Dearest Dorothy, Who Would Have Ever Thought?!, Dearest Dorothy, Merry Everything!, and Dearest Dorothy, If Not Now, When? are the others in the series.)
Who will like this book? Mothers, Grandmothers. Retirees and those who refuse to retire. Residents of small towns, city folk who wish they were residents of small towns, suburbanites who used to live in small towns, folks who used to visit their grandparents' farms growing up. Methodists, especially those who serve on committees or bring food to any and all church activities. Parents and family members of special-needs individuals (whether children or adults)--the portrayal of Earl, one of Dorothy's friends, is a wonderful look at the often-overlooked talents of those who are considered "slow" and how friendship and encouragement can help anyone to blossom. Boys who'd like to catch crawdads in the creek or just horse around and get wet (but they won't take it to school and read it in front of their friends--not edgy enough, too cute). Anyone who likes Jan Karon's Mitford and Father Tim books. Fans of the Aunt Dimity mystery series by Nancy Atherton. There's even a gentle hint of a teen romance, which means teen girls who aren't into graphic erotic scenes might enjoy it.
Anyone who reads it will certainly wish they had a friend like Dorothy.
My first menu offering, Dearest Dorothy, Slow Down, You're Wearing Us Out! by Charlene Baumbich, is contemporary fiction, and might be considered inspirational fiction, but here's the thing: no one is going to read this and think, "wow, how very cutting-edge! how deeply philosophical, how spiritually intense!" No, anyone who gobbles up this book is going to have warm fuzzy feelings and know they just consumed some EXCELLENT comfort food.
I picked this book up yesterday at a yard sale for 50 cents, and read it in one gulp. The main character, Dorothy Jean Wetstra, is 87 years old and still going (mostly) strong. She lives in a small town, Partonville, which the residents jokingly call Pardon-Me-Ville, and she is a character among characters. She drives a 1976 Lincoln Continental ("The Tank"). She sits on the Social Concerns Committee of the local United Methodist Church. She goes about her daily business, occasionally allowing her ongoing conversation with God ("The Big Guy") to be verbalized out loud, to the astonishment and amusement of her companions of the moment. Dorothy is a musician, a farmer, a widow, a mother and grandmother, an encourager and friend. She stands up to overbearing citizens of the town (including the mayor, an old frienemy) and takes the weak under her wing--but lately her heart has been giving her some trouble, and so has The Tank. In Slow Down..., Dorothy must deal with hicks and city slickers, while planning a large community event and making major changes in her own life, all of which she accomplishes with humor, grace, and aplomb. She certainly made me laugh and even brought a tear to my eye once or twice.
This is apparently the second book of a 6-book series, which I am going to buy, without question. (Dearest Dorothy, Are We There Yet?, Dearest Dorothy, Help, I've Lost Myself!, Dearest Dorothy, Who Would Have Ever Thought?!, Dearest Dorothy, Merry Everything!, and Dearest Dorothy, If Not Now, When? are the others in the series.)
Who will like this book? Mothers, Grandmothers. Retirees and those who refuse to retire. Residents of small towns, city folk who wish they were residents of small towns, suburbanites who used to live in small towns, folks who used to visit their grandparents' farms growing up. Methodists, especially those who serve on committees or bring food to any and all church activities. Parents and family members of special-needs individuals (whether children or adults)--the portrayal of Earl, one of Dorothy's friends, is a wonderful look at the often-overlooked talents of those who are considered "slow" and how friendship and encouragement can help anyone to blossom. Boys who'd like to catch crawdads in the creek or just horse around and get wet (but they won't take it to school and read it in front of their friends--not edgy enough, too cute). Anyone who likes Jan Karon's Mitford and Father Tim books. Fans of the Aunt Dimity mystery series by Nancy Atherton. There's even a gentle hint of a teen romance, which means teen girls who aren't into graphic erotic scenes might enjoy it.
Anyone who reads it will certainly wish they had a friend like Dorothy.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
What's On the Menu?
Welcome to the Mighty Bibliovore! I plan to serve up reviews of books I have read and books I am currently reading, along with speculations about books I would like to read, information about books soon to be published, playtime with books that refer to other books, and an all-around celebration of books.
I plan to have contests--perhaps to find the source of a quote, or to take a picture that reflects a scene from a book. Perhaps we'll discuss the pros and cons of movies about books. One regular feature will be the reading of famous picaresque novels and playing the game of hunting down the references--and reading them. (Picaresque: when a literary work makes references to other literary works; vs. pastiche: a literary work in the same setting and with the same characters as a specific previous literary work, usually as a tribute. I plan to review a few pastiches, as well.)
I will also try answer that age-old question: what books might my [fill in the blank: husband, sister, 10-year old nephew, boss, friend's graduating daughter...] like? As we go along, I'll make sure to include suggestions on who might like a given book (intended audience or not!), and on other works that might have similar attractions.
What is a Bibliovore, you ask? The origin of the word Bibliovore is eclectic--you will have noticed that the suffix "--vore" is Latin for "eater" and the prefix "biblio--" is Greek for book. A carnivore is an eater of meat, an herbivore is an eater of grasses and leaves, an omnivore is one who eats anything put in front of them; therefore, a Bibliovore is one who eats books. There is an implied appetite in the word as well: a "--vore" doesn't just nibble; he devours, he subsists upon! So the correct definition is: someone who eats books for breakfast! And the Mighty Bibliovore is actually an omnibibliovore, so beware! Hide your books and manuscripts!
Six years ago, my daughter was in her school's "Battle of the Books" club. Their team needed a name, and "Bibliovore" was my daughter's suggestion after a lively debate at home about the mixed etymology of the word. My husband even drew a little Bibliovore mascot--I'll have to dig it out and add it to an upcoming blog entry. I'm not sure what name they finally ended up with, but my daughter was unquestionably the Bibliovore-in-Chief of their team. She could gulp down any of the books on the list, digest them thoroughly and (ahem, sorry) regurgitate all the miniscule little details, so they did pretty well in the competitions, after she got over her shyness and desire to let her teammates have a chance to answer.
In any case, the name Bibliovore stuck in our family, because our little darlin' came by the trait honestly. Contrary to the old investment ad which says, "they came by it the old fashioned way--they eeeeaaaaaarned it," our daughter came by it the REAL old fashioned way. She inherited it. She won't be inheriting much money... Wasn't it Erasmus who said, "When I have a little money, I buy books. If any is left over, I buy food and clothes" ?
I hope readers will want to stop by and see what's next on the menu. Suggestions are welcome, as well, and polite agreements or disagreements in comments will add a zesty sauce.
I plan to have contests--perhaps to find the source of a quote, or to take a picture that reflects a scene from a book. Perhaps we'll discuss the pros and cons of movies about books. One regular feature will be the reading of famous picaresque novels and playing the game of hunting down the references--and reading them. (Picaresque: when a literary work makes references to other literary works; vs. pastiche: a literary work in the same setting and with the same characters as a specific previous literary work, usually as a tribute. I plan to review a few pastiches, as well.)
I will also try answer that age-old question: what books might my [fill in the blank: husband, sister, 10-year old nephew, boss, friend's graduating daughter...] like? As we go along, I'll make sure to include suggestions on who might like a given book (intended audience or not!), and on other works that might have similar attractions.
What is a Bibliovore, you ask? The origin of the word Bibliovore is eclectic--you will have noticed that the suffix "--vore" is Latin for "eater" and the prefix "biblio--" is Greek for book. A carnivore is an eater of meat, an herbivore is an eater of grasses and leaves, an omnivore is one who eats anything put in front of them; therefore, a Bibliovore is one who eats books. There is an implied appetite in the word as well: a "--vore" doesn't just nibble; he devours, he subsists upon! So the correct definition is: someone who eats books for breakfast! And the Mighty Bibliovore is actually an omnibibliovore, so beware! Hide your books and manuscripts!
Six years ago, my daughter was in her school's "Battle of the Books" club. Their team needed a name, and "Bibliovore" was my daughter's suggestion after a lively debate at home about the mixed etymology of the word. My husband even drew a little Bibliovore mascot--I'll have to dig it out and add it to an upcoming blog entry. I'm not sure what name they finally ended up with, but my daughter was unquestionably the Bibliovore-in-Chief of their team. She could gulp down any of the books on the list, digest them thoroughly and (ahem, sorry) regurgitate all the miniscule little details, so they did pretty well in the competitions, after she got over her shyness and desire to let her teammates have a chance to answer.
In any case, the name Bibliovore stuck in our family, because our little darlin' came by the trait honestly. Contrary to the old investment ad which says, "they came by it the old fashioned way--they eeeeaaaaaarned it," our daughter came by it the REAL old fashioned way. She inherited it. She won't be inheriting much money... Wasn't it Erasmus who said, "When I have a little money, I buy books. If any is left over, I buy food and clothes" ?
I hope readers will want to stop by and see what's next on the menu. Suggestions are welcome, as well, and polite agreements or disagreements in comments will add a zesty sauce.
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