Sandra C. Lopez's Blog, page 392

Review: THE MAN AT THE CAFFE FARNESE by Janet Simcic

“The language, the gesturing, the scent of coffee, even the dreaded customs line fascinated me. I was in love with everything Italian.” (1) It was love at first sight for Julie Walden.
“There were four clearly marked lanes; yet the drivers seemed to hover on the lines, creating five lanes as they vied for space and speed.” (2) Yes! It was like I was right back in Italy!  Julie, Mary, and Liz are all 50-something women—a wacky, funny group of characters like The Golden Girls—and they’re on this exciting journey in Italy to practice the language and learn more about their roots. It was hilarious how they all loved to drool over Antonio, the landlady’s young, hot Italian lover.
Mary is the neat, old crab; Liz is the flirty shopaholic; and Julie “yearned to be surrounded by Italians, wanting to breathe in the language.” (27) The main protagonist, Julie, has disconnected from her husband and feels that escaping to Italy would somehow lead her to discover who she is again. Then temptation shows up in the man at the Caffe Farnese named Dante.
What was interesting was that all these women had baggage and were struggling with the disharmony of marriage, even the British lady, Gabby (the one dating that sexy Antonio.) The American women seemed to envy the longevity of Italian marriages. Yeah, that’s because Italians don’t divorce. They weren’t raised to divorce, and, at one point, it was even illegal to divorce. That’s why the divorce rates are low and America continues to be #1 in it. Yay, we’re #1!
It was unusual that the story was told from the POV of Julie and Gabby. Why not all four women or just Julie? Why include Gabby, who didn’t seem as essential by her brief segments throughout the book? Personally, I would’ve liked to have heard from Mary and Liz, too. Also, not much time was spent on the search for the Italian roots. It was mentioned for just one second, and then it just dropped all together.
Nonetheless, the emotional entanglements and strain continued to be a gripping notion to the conclusion. Everyone was right: Julie was too American, and it would never work with Dante no matter how “perfect” they were for each other. Still, will she give in to him or not?    
What I liked best was the acute depiction of life in Rome—how Romans don’t live by time, the late dinners that often last for hours, the long staircases, and the breath-taking views. I felt like I was right there again, treading the congested cobblestone streets of Italy.  

Review: GIFT OF SEEDS by John Clinton Gray

 
In these essays, we are strolling through 5 decades of memories starting from the 1950’s; it’s like a walk in the park.
“We were hooked [on sugar] from the time we were old enough to play outside on our town, until puberty arrived and changed the world forever.” (4)
“Little kids were exempt from their bullying, but the day came when we had grown into suitable prey.” (4)
“Row Row was a caricature kid caught in adolescent hell, random body parts maturing while others waited.” (49)
Full of honesty, this book is a captivating coming-of-age narration from boyhood to manhood. John Gray is a poignant and funny character, which is revealed in his short, quirky ruminations about life and experience.
The reader becomes a traveler in these tales—we go from the farmlands in Delaware to scouring pipes in Levittown sewers to meeting Columbo on a flight to JFK. Admittedly, however, some stories were not that interesting, like the baseball one, for example (but that’s just because I’m not really into sports.) At times, I felt that the details got a little too technical with dates and historical facts—a few too many numbers, if you ask me. And why was there a recipe?
“Companion Flier” was, by far, my favorite story—simple, quick, and hilarious!
“Maine Event” was another great one about John’s first love and first heart break at 12-years old. “Boys at that stage know all about boners, but only theory about what the equipment is for.” (250)
“Novel Idea” illustrated the pivotal essence of the whole writing experience that EVERY author goes through from the inception of an idea to the turbulent trials of developing a story. “Some successful writer wrote that writers just write. Even if we go back and delete most of what we pecked out and start over, we write. Even if we feel depressed and unworthy, we write. Even when we’re arrogant assholes, we write. Well…WTF…I’ll just start.” (266)
Even though this is a non-fiction account of a man’s life, Gray writes with the heart and skill of a story-teller.    

Review: WHEN ANGELS FALL by Manuel Meléndez

Beginning with a captivating prologue, this novel takes the reader on a journey in the life of Ferdy Muñoz as he discovers the prejudices within his own neighborhood. Ever since the tragedy of 9/11, people of Middle Eastern decent are being profiled as world bombers and terrorists, including a dear friend of 10 years. But could the detective be right? Would harassment justify as a preemptive strike against tragedy and disaster?

Mrs. Drucker, one of Ferdy’s neighbors, has distrusted immigrants most of her life and feels that they have been ruining America. Then, one day, a violent confrontation ensues between her and Raj, who has been accused of being a terrorist, sending Ferdy on a penitent journey for truth and righteousness. “His father always used to say that powerful people’s influences could easily dwarf the truth and, therefore, manipulate the media. In every story, there were always three points of view: the views of the two argumentative parties and the truthful view, which many times never made it to the front page or the six o’clock news.” (52) After all, “the world was filled with many Rajs, Annies and Nicks, swimming in hate and false accusations.” (63)
Thought-provoking and narrated by the engaging voices of earnest characters, this story takes the readers through the arduous trials of sin and redemption. Meléndez skillfully renders the gray subtleties of human emotion and combines them into a mystical masterpiece. His words eloquently depict the “devil in stolen angel’s wings.” (102)
The presence of the unknown vagrant filtered throughout the story seems minor, at first, but it is actually quite pivotal; however, I found his maniacal pleas to God odd and a bit superfluous.  Who was the “Fallen Angel,” and what was his purpose?
The intriguing development of a murder investigation beckons you to read on until every tiny morsel is devoured. You won’t want to stop until you reach the mysterious and gripping conclusion.
Well-written and vividly descriptive.

Review: THE FEAST OF SAN SEBASTIAN by Jonathan Marcantoni

Our top cop was in his position for only a month when the students at La UPI went on strike. He had his cops shut off the electricity, the AC, and the water going into the campus, as well as blocked any food from coming in. After the strike was over, the students held another protest on the steps of the Capitol, so he ordered the police to tear gas them. He’s in the pockets of North American developers who order him to raid poor neighborhoods in order to relocate the residents and turn their communities into beach resorts. This man is the most corrupt person on the island, which is no easy task. What I am asking of you two, in exchange for your freedom, is to assassinate Aurelio Oviedo Narvaez.




My thoughts: Raw and blunt—those are the first words that come to mind when reading this book. Diving deep into the underground politics of Puerto Rico, this book carries a dialogue dripping with savage flavor along with an informal writing style full of character.
Inspired by a published study, this book read like a newspaper article—stoic and indifferent relaying just the pertinent highlights of events. It pretty much preaches at you with political outrage.  Quite frankly, I’m not too partial on a book that screams out at me like a drill army sergeant. I like to be absorbed by the story, get to know the characters (whether I like them or not), and follow along in the life span of the book.
In all honesty, I was somewhat confused when I read the back summary. I really couldn’t tell what it was about. Was it a mystery, a thriller, or what?  Did it involve a cop, a bomb, a raid? And who was Narvaez? Why was he so special?
Like any new dish, I like to give anything a small taste to see how it is; but, in the end, this book was not my chocolate pudding. It's definitely suited more for the palate of the political and societal elite. 

Review: WAKING UP MARRIED by Mira Lyn Kelly

My thoughts: Megan has woken up to a nightmare—she woke up with the worst hangover ever, half naked, next to a guy that is…her husband! Yikes!  The reader then goes on a wild expedition to the preceding events to find out how this all happened.   Both on the rebound from a recent break-up, Connor and Megan hook up at one of the classic hook-up spots: a bar, where inhibitions are freed through the power of martinis.  As I had suspected beforehand, the whole “waking up married” was blamed on one silly, drunken Las Vegas night—what basically happens when people get stupid and lose all forms of self-control (not the best decision-maker.)   The first thing I noticed was Connor’s insane cockiness. How could it be missed? His arrogance practically jumped out of the page and flapped around in your face—very annoying. However, his genuine interest in the girl-next-door type seemed sincere, even though the first thing that piqued his interest was her sinuous body.  Still, there was something about him that provokes the reader to get to know him. I loved how protective he becomes with her.   What I liked best about Megan was her sensibility (even though she practiced none of that on her drunken night,) while Connor was absolutely senseless—insane, really! The marriage was “not about love…it’s about liking each other”? Oh, yeah, that was a really good reason to get hitched.  Even for companionship? Insane!  I must give Connor credit for convincing Megan to give it a chance, but I also agreed with Megan that he was “too good to be true.” I honestly thought he was being Mr. Perfect with trying too hard to show her that he was the one—it was unrealistic and sickening. The way I figure: true lovers shouldn’t have to try so hard. Boy, was I glad when Megan gave him the inclination that she might not be what he thought. How can anyone know a person in one night? I did, however, enjoy seeing Megan torture Connor with her algae mask and waxing rituals—showdowns of what he’d be coming home to every night. Yep, that was marriage.   In the essence of all the insanity, this story was just like any other Harlequin romance—boy meets girl, love at first sight, love on the rocks, then the unyielding of the "can’t-live-without-you" finale.  It’s another one of those sappy stories good for those love lovers, not a skeptic like me. Of course you know how it’s going to end. Duh! 

Review: THE GIRL WITH NO NAME by Iscah

If you had the ability to transform into anything, what would it be? This is the fate of the girl with no name, a shape-shifter.
While the townspeople seemed frighten by the child that can turn into cats and cooking pots, her keeper is the one that comes to her defense and stays by her side until his death, which forces her to flee the town.
Gourlin was an interesting place; I like how it had a policy of teaching kids to read –now, that’s my kind of country! One thing that was irksome was that the story was full of unknown characters, which I thought detached the reader from the plot. There were characters like “bookseller” and the “black-bearded man”—no one really had a name, except for the prince. And, although I am not really into tales about castles and princes, this book still isolates itself from the traditional “happy ending,” which I thought was rather unique.   
This was like reading one of Grimm’s fairy tales combined with Shelley’s Frankenstein. It is all about a search to discover who was “the girl with no name” and what was her purpose. Her quest seemed to take a rather long time as she consistently kept asking people questions about the father she never knew. She was smart and courageous, and learned to protect herself well.  It’s a cute, well-written story.  Fascinating cover, too!

Review: THE ROCKIN' CHAIR by Steven Manchester

Many reviewers compared this book to those of Nicholas Sparks, whom I'm really not too fond of, but I decided to give it a try anyhow.

 Something was wrong with Alice. In the beginning, I couldn't decipher whether she was dreaming or crazy. The first chapter had me confused with the constant back-and-forth notion―but that is usually the way it feels with Alzheimer's.

The chair was a tombstone of cherished memories and forgotten lives. It was the thing that always provided John with comfort and pensive sorrow. Lately, he has been sitting for long hours, quietly rocking in a paralyzed state with his mind full of worry and fear over the disease that has been taking his beloved Alice away. It was stated simply that "[Alice] had become an apparition in the flesh, a ghost locked within the familiar frame." (25)
 The story was nothing but memories that get dragged out by every member of the family and play on the minds like a broken record. Each section was recited in the POV of every main character, each one bringing one more demonic skeleton out of the closet that wrecked havoc on the emotions. The book was mainly a typhoon of emotions circling around the Alzheimer's, the war, and loss.

To think that family was the magical cure for life's problems was kind of naive. However, I liked how each character's flaws were rendered with emphatic resonance and frail honesty. Big John's barnyard lessons were cleverly correlated with the kids' problems. Suddenly it was up to Big John to fix them all like if he was Jesus or something, which was probably why there was a lot of praying in the story.  
 Ultimately, this story was all about getting over loss and heart ache―in other words, "to get back on the horse." Manchester's words painted a vibrant picture of the dirt-slappin', fly-swattin' country farm life of Montana. However, his descriptions of emotions might have been a tad too "fruity" for my taste. Now I get the Nicholas Sparks reference.

Review: FUN AND GAMES by David Michael Slater

"When opportunity has knockers," then it's a definitive chance to read this book. (6)
 Jake, Cory, Milo, and Jonathan were all unruly, young boys that are reminiscent of The Sandlot kids―funny, charismatic, and just plain curious about girls.  
 Explicitly told from the memory of Jonathan, this colorful tale relays the simple ups and downs of a boy's coming-of-age process while sulking in the battling throes of Judaism between his narrow-minded father and tenacious rabbi. Why was there so much talk on this religion? It was a tad uninteresting at times. Although I was a bit amused when the dad stated to the rabbi that he was "naked" beneath the clothing of his religion. Wow, what a fascinating zinger! Still, this did not seem to faze Jonathan, who wanted nothing more than to score high on a Purity Test―a secret game he had concocted with his friends.  However, the Jewish theme still managed to play an important role in Jonathan's "game," like the dybbuk―"an evil, wandering spirit in Jewish folklore"―that seemed to possess his family. (85) It seemed that Jonathan was the only sane one in the bunch.    

While dealing with the oddballs of his life and all the secrets that stumble out of the family closet, Jonathan tries to grapple with his growing pains and a search for his own identity. His is a story that takes him through the zany hurdles of high school all the way to college, where he meets this kooky professor that dissects the word "cat" on the first day. Weird, huh? But then again it was college, where beer bongs and promiscuity were plentiful.

Religion played a major role in this book―all the emotion and drama seemed to stem from it.  Truth be told, I am not all that into religion and I am certainly not moved by it; however, I was pleased to find out that lurking beneath all that God talk, there was an actual story there, one that was engaging enough to hold my attention. The funniest pun you can think of as you read this is: Boys will be boys (which means they'll basically act like idiots.) But what I liked best about these boys was how they looked out for each other through the good, bad, and remorseful. Still, you can't help but think what a bunch of cry-babies they were at times. I also found the tangled mess in the end to be confusing (I actually had to re-read a couple of parts to fully understand.) On a final note, the book could've used some more editing. Overall, I'd say it was a light and enjoyable read.

Welcome Back!

I'M BACK!

I have left Rome and got on a plane, where I spent a dozen hours flying across the ocean. The food was terrible--it was right along the same levels as hospital food with its mushy texture and synthetic quality. It might as well have been a Cup O' Noodles. Actually, a Cup O' Noodles would have been preferable. The last thing they served us was a pasta al pesto, which was this crinkly pasta with dry, green sauce. I had taken two bites before shoving that tin tray aside in mild repugnance.

With only a few more hours of flight time, I sat there with an empty stomach, crushed within the tight enclosure of the surrounding passengers. My back was aching and my legs were cramped. I eagerly watched the monitor above as the tiny plane image drew closer and closer to the L.A. star. When was this freaking plane going to land?

Then the seat belt sign lit up, which meant we were going to land soon. Oh, thank god!

Once the nose dipped and the plane began its descend, my organs practically shot up and whirled inside my head. The air was thin, and nausea began to take its toll. Whoa, where's the barf bag? I wondered.

Down and down we went until finally we landed on solid ground. I clapped and cheered knowing that I was out of the air and on U.S. soil. I jolted out of my seat, awaiting the crew to open those doors. Once they gave us the go-ahead, I immediately got my bag and was out of there.

After taking in a few breaths, I walked through the narrow passageways to get to security check and baggage claim. It was quite a trip in itself. When I got there, there were loads of people wanting to get into the country. My goodness!

I waited in line for about 30-40 minutes, it seemed. My security officer was this young, rugged, handsome guy with a tattoo on his bicep. Hubba-hubba! He asked me all kinds of questions, like if I was traveling alone and if I had brought back any alcohol. By the time we had completed the process, he ended it by returning my passport and saying, "Welcome back."

A wind of relief swept over me as I walked away with my arms stretched out to the side and my head tilted upward, thinking, "Yes, I'm back, California--my wonderful home!" I almost felt like hugging and kissing the ground, but I was way too exhausted.

ARRIVEDERCI!

I wanted to let my readers and followers know that I heading off to Italy for the next couple of months. I will not be accepting any new review submissions until the summer.  Until then, keep reading and keep following! Buona fortuna!