Colleen Mondor's Blog, page 32

"I looked after the small things and they rather stifle the soul."

In the annals of polar exploration there are those who got there first, those who didn't get there but died in spectacular fashion and then there is Shackleton. He is, to many (me included) the truly great one. He is the explorer who turned back to save his men and the one who led the most epic polar rescue of all time. He is not the stuff of legend, he is legend. Consider this famous quote from Sir Raymond Priestly, explorer with both Shackleton and Robert Scott:



"Scott for scientific method, Amundsen for speed and efficiency but when disaster strikes and all hope is gone, get down on your knees and pray for Shackleton."

He will live forever in the annals of exploration history, without a doubt. But what Kari Herbert does in her upcoming book, POLAR WIVES is give equal measure to his wife, Emily (along with several other wives who I'll blog about later). What I found so interesting about Emily is that on the surface, as Herbert notes, she was seen as the "epitome of the long-suffering polar wife surrendering her ambitions for those of her husband on his great undertaking; bound to a brilliant but restless dreamer, who yearned for home when he was away but was often distant when he returned." She is not someone who seems to be worthy of a biography separate from her husband. And yet Herbert makes clear that Emily was much more than long-suffering and in fact was a force to be reckoned with. She believed not just in him and what he hoped to accomplish but she believed in a fulfilling life for herself as well. She did not want to live through him, she wanted the family happiness that it was entirely reasonable for her to expect. She worked very hard for this at holding everything together. She did, as the post quotes shows so clear, the "small things" the necessary things, the things that always need doing. She just didn't plan on having to do so much alone, because he was either gone exploring or celebrating his exploration, or finding solace in the company of others that he wasn't exploring yet again.

He loved her. She loved him. But that's never the point of the story, is it?

In the years after Ernest's death she made sure to see that he was not lost in the negative comments of others or the achievements of others, she stayed true to him in the way that his widow should. And yet, and yet....reading Herbert's chapters on Emily you wonder how the two of them would have excelled in a time where she could have had more power; where the strength of her personality would have not have had to be dimmer. He had to live then to be the great explorer he was but she would have been something in a different time.

Emily Shackleton is worthy of her own book, her own appreciation; we should count ourselves lucky that Kari Herbert shines the spotlight on her as much as she does here.

[Post pic from the James Caird Society. Quote from Emily Shackleton.]

Unprepared for the wild

It has been interesting for me to read the many positive reviews for Cheryl Strayed's new memoir WILD. I agree that the book is well written although I think that the two different narratives, one about her family difficulties in the wake of her mother's death and the other a recollection of her journey hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, don't fit seamlessly together. This was not a major complaint but frustrating and prevented me from enjoying it as much as I have other personal stories. My major complaint however is not one of style but rather substance. I do not understand why readers celebrate so much an author who embarked on an outdoor adventure for which she was patently unprepared and then embrace her lack of preparedness as triumphant. It reminds me all too much of the many [many] readers who lauded Into the Wild for similar reasons and frankly, I just don't get it.

Strayed went on her hike with little experience hiking. She saw some books at REI on the PCT and became captivated with the idea that it would heal her. I'm sure a lot of us can understand the need for a challenge in a time of crisis and I actually appreciate that aspect of her story. But Strayed makes a point of saying she shopped at REI for supplies without talking to anyone who could provide her with solid advice. She did not do any "practice" hikes of shorter more manageable areas. She did not load her pack until the night before she left, in her hotel room near the trailhead. (She actually could not lift it.) She never even bought the right sized boots or wore them before she hiked and when they gave her horrible blisters she ended up chucking one away in anger.

The irony that a boot is in on the book's cover is not lost on me.

Throughout her adventure it is the kindness of strangers that saved the author's life. More than once she was fed by people she met and other hikers helped her repack her supplies, sort through what she carried, discard useless and frivolous items, show her how to even use some of the tools she bought and basically saved her butt. Without those other people I don't see how she would have made it and while I doubt she would have died like Chris McCandless (the PCT is not the total boonies), she certainly would have given up. WILD is what happens when you don't know what you're doing but get saved in time and again by others, and that's the only difference I saw between her experience and his.

Based on reviews, the message readers seem to taking away from the book is that Wild is not a guide but a memoir and as such, the fact that Strayed is so woefully unprepared is not the point. All that matters is she experiences the wilderness; she takes a chance doing something that most people would never attempt and thus faces her own insecurities (and grief) head-on. This, I think, is the crux of her book's appeal. She goes where most folks don't go and she doesn't bother to spend the time to do it well. It doesn't take months for her to get ready for her adventure, there are not lists of things to do and buy and test and try first. WILD is thus not as intimidating as guidebooks or even Backpacker magazine. Strayed is just a woman in a bad place emotionally who does an impulsive thing. At least she doesn't die in the process which is an improvement from the days of McCandless worship but it's very similar to his cavalier attitude of walking into the wilderness with little food. You don't need to know anything is what both stories seems to say; learning beforehand will just diminish your experience.

I wish we idolized as much those individuals who take the time to do their adventures safely and carefully. Think about it - if a teenager wore shoes too small because she was lazy and got blisters we wouldn't regard such behavior heroic. It seems odd that a grown woman does the same thing and we note her bracing honesty in acknowledging the failure to test those boots and her heart-rendering weakness in walking with bloody feet. "At least he chose to live authentically", is what so many readers said about McCandless. The same words can be heard for Strayed as well. I have to wonder why authenticity seems to require committing obvious mistakes though, and why so many readers think you can only be raw and bold if you are also, quite frankly, foolish.

On a 21st century debut author book tour

I just finalized the travel arrangements for my whirlwind Alaska book tour at the beginning of next month. (See all the dates and times on the Events page.) I have been helped immeasurably by a good friend who is locked into the bookstore industry in the state and I'm quite pleased with how things have turned out. Juneau, Anchorage and Fairbanks are the three cities in AK and visiting with bookish folks in those locations will go a long way toward getting the word out on MAP. (I also have a radio interview scheduled in Juneau which should be fun - and will reach a lot of listeners.) But it is a big personal leap to make (financially and psychologically) and I'm a wee bit terrified that it all might be a bust.

I mean really - who wants to travel thousands of miles to meet with a grand total of five folks? (This is kind of like flying from Florida to Arizona to Montana in terms of distance.) I'm keeping my expectations very low for sanity's sake but any author who tells you they aren't hoping to meet masses of folks interested in talking about their book is a liar. Walking into those rooms is a daunting thing for sure. It's another step in the publishing process that no one wants to [really] talk about: will an agent like me, will an editor like me, will readers like me and now, will they want to come and talk about my work.

I want to do the best I can for MAP and talking to Alaskan booksellers (who hand sell all the time) is an important thing to do. It's part of my plan to do as much as I can for the book before I embark on heavily writing on the next one later this summer. (I have a lot of research to do on that in the UAF archives first.) It's a calculated risk, a toss of the dice and dollars in the hopes of a solid return. I feel like if I didn't give it a go then I would be sorry later (and second guessing myself) so I'm off.

I'll be tweeting the whole time I'm there, the good, the bad and the spectacularly beautiful (Juneau is amazing). Be sure to follow along (@chasingray) if you want to see the next chapter in this ride.

And tomorrow, back to blogging about other folks' books!

With Kerouac, cold weather wives and more than one ghost

What I've read:

The Awakener: A Memoir of Kerouac and the Fifties by Helen Weaver. The author dated Kerouac (they lived together) for awhile not long before On the Road came out. She is very frank about their relationship, her affection and frustration, his enormous appeal and finally, the sheer fatigue that overtook her from being with Jack. She knew him as a talented man and respected him as such while also boggled by how he could be married and deny his child and pursue other women. She writes:

I rejected him for the same reason America rejected him: he woke us up in the middle of the night in the long dream of the fifties. He interfered with out sleep.

Wide Open by Deborah Coates. A solid ghost story about an Afghan War vet who comes home on leave after her sister is killed in an accident or suicide or....? Hallie herself was dead for a few minutes in the war and since then has been haunted by a variety of ghosts, all of whom seem to want something. It all gets real personal when her dead sister is waiting at the airport when she arrives at home. The mystery is to find out what happened to her sister, who did it and why and what the heck is going on at the new local industry which supposedly creates weather. Hallie is tough as nails, the local deputy is smart and hiding a secret or two and the bad guy is truly awful. I think the magical mystery is a bit underwritten but it's still a page-turner. Decent read.

Imaginary Girls by Nova Ren Sun. For the May column, this excellent ghost story is about the creepiest sibling relationship ever. Chloe and Ruby have a relationship of epic enabling proportions and Ruby is...well Ruby is special (and not in a happy jolly holiday kind of way). It's scary, it's twisted and it has just enough WTF going on to keep you on the edge of your seat. Couldn't get enough of it and look forward to writing it up.

Archaeology by Mark Dion. An exhibition catalog that I scored at Third Place Books for a silly cheap price. I'm a huge fan of Dion and . This one is about the discovery of buried "treasure" on the banks of the Thames as well as the bottom of a Venice canal. He always makes you think, about history, archaeology and, most importantly, art.

"The Particles" by Andrea Barrett. Her short story in the current issue of Tin House. I'm ever hopeful that it is part of a book-in-progress by Barrett. It's about a small group of academics (among others) on a British passenger ship sunk by the Germans in 1939. The protag, Sam, reflects on their personal history, his research into genetics, and the difficult relationship he has with one of the men. It is, of course, about science and history and people; beautiful and honest and pure...if that makes any sense. I enjoyed it very very much.

Polar Wives by Kari Herbert. Not a surprise that I found a book on the wives of some [in]famous polar explorers to be so compelling but I have to give author Kari Herbert some credit for both her research and style. The book is organized not as straight biographies but chapters on each of her subjects by category - essentially their own upbringings, how they met their husbands, how they coped with their explorations, how they coped with their fame. Some of the stories are unbearably sad, some frustrating (I have never been a fan of Robert Peary and that is cemented now) and some make you want to cheer. (EMILY SHACKLETON!!!!) More on this in coming days and a review to follow - in May hopefully.

What I'm reading now:

Visit Sunny Chernobyl by Andrew Blackwell. For Booklist so I can't say anything but what an interesting topic - "adventures in the world's most polluted places". (The Tar Sands are chapter 2.)

Wonder Show by Hannah Barnaby. I had to set this one aside when I realized it wouldn't work for my May column but I'm hoping to finish it in the next couple of weeks or so. My plan is to review it for the fall.

Hmm - clearly I need to start a few more books! Nothing for review until I'm caught up but there are several titles for pleasure reading I've been looking forward to. More on those as the pages start turning!

Team Grace Coddington

I am very much looking forward to her memoir. I am an unabashed fan of her work as Creative Director at Vogue and found her parts in The September Issue documentary to be quite revealing. I also like that she has said the memoir will not be gossipy but rather more about fashion history and her career.

Vintage fashion fans will also want to keep their eyes peeled for Tomboy Style by Lizzie Garrett. The blog has been a longtime eye candy favorite of mine and the book promises more of the same.

[Post pic from the 1920s Vogue photo shoot, created by Coddington and shown in The September Issue. More pics here.]

Wherein I am disappointed by a book....or two

Spoilers!

In reading Francisco Stork's recent YA novelIrises, I'm more than a bit disappointed by what seemed to me to be a lot of heavy-handedness on the part of the author. I enjoyed his last book, Last Summer of the Death Warriors, and even though it had a dark subject, I thought Stork did a decent job of not taking advantage of his readers' emotions. That is not the case with Irises however, a book that pulls every one of your heartstrings and then some.

The story centers on sisters Kate and Mary who have a loving family in the [flashback] opening pages but by the second chapter are in difficult straits. Their mother is in a permanent vegetative state after a car accident two years before. She is kept at home and cared for by a part time nurse, her teen daughters and husband. The husband, a pastor, then dies suddenly of an apparent heart attack. Kate, who is 18 and soon to graduate, was hoping to go to Stanford (they live in El Paso) on scholarship. She has not told anyone in her family about this. Mary, a 16 year old artist, wants to stay in El Paso, pursue her art and care for Mom. They have no income (other than Kate's part time waitress job at her boyfriend's father's restaurant), and rent their home from the church. The church wants them out in two months to make room for the young (22) visiting pastor who has decided to stay and fill the now vacant pastor's job. And their only living relative, their mom's sister, comes for the funeral, asks a lot of hard (but necessary) questions and then reveals she is battling breast cancer and can't help anyone and needs to go home to CA. Kate's boyfriend does ask her to marry him so he can fix everything (he's also a senior in high school) but she's not so sure she loves him especially when the gorgeous new pastor hits on her while suggesting she pull her mother's feeding tube.

Oh - and the $100,000 life insurance policy on dad doesn't get paid because the company claims their father lied and had a congenital heart defect he never admitted to.

Did you follow all that? One parent dead, one apparently never waking up, no money, about to be homeless, scholarship hanging by a thread, underage sister needs a guardian, (she has met a hot artist guy though who wants to be her friend) (his problem is he is in a gang and thus might die or kill someone at anytime), and hot pastor guy wants to offer guidance about ending mom's life (there's a lot of stressing that mom is not really alive which is...odd) but also wants to move into their house and get in big sister's pants. Talk about some drama! There is nothing going right for these girls and so of course they spend all of their time not discussing the problems with each other and blunder around talking to everyone else for most of the book.

HOSPICE. Have these people never heard of hospice and how they can provide information and counseling in this situation??? And the family doctor who comes weekly to take care of mom? How about talking to him? And mom has no insurance? It all "ran out"? Can anyone explain this? And dad brought mom home after one bad nursing home experience or because a doctor told him he could have the feeding tube removed which insulted him or because the insurance ran out (all of these are mentioned)? And Kate is eighteen and everyone thought she was going to college in Texas but she never applied there? Or did she fake apply? And how was her dad going to pay for it if they have no money (which apparently what they all figure out after he dies)?

And would any sister really talk to a guy she barely knows (new pastor) and a lawyer she met while waitressing one night, (and thus doesn't know), about letting her mother die before she talks to her sister? Oh - and the pastor guy is of course a narcissistic mega-church wanna be who explains that some people are called to administer to the wealthy just like some people administer to the poor. (Does anyone really talk to someone whose father just died days before about moving on and putting their mother in the ground? Anyone?)

This piling on of unrealistic situations and eye rolling responses by the characters is also the problem I had in Winter Town by Stephen Emond. I really liked how Emond incorporated illustrations (his own) in this novel, both as chapter introductions and a comic that the two characters are working on together. But generally, the way Evan and Lucy interact was as frustrating as Kate and Mary.

While the plot of Winter Town is very straightforward (and less angst worthy), it requires a lot (A LOT) of patience on the part of the reader. The two protagonists are childhood friends who now live apart as Lucy's parents divorced and she moved away with her mother. It's their senior year and Lucy is back for her annual two week Christmas vacation with her father. She has changed dramatically however, is dressed all in black, very sullen, wears lots of dark make-up, the full-on depressed goth experience. Evan has endless patience as he tries to break through the facade and figure out what is going on with Lucy. Endless patience. It is in fact page 184 before readers find out from Lucy (in a sudden narrative voice switch) what happened with her mother and mom's new boyfriend that has caused her to change so much. Basically, the guy moved in, he's a hard ass, he insists Lucy go to church (he also chooses dresses for her to wear which is very very weird and creepy), he calls Lucy a whore because she doesn't wear the dresses (but mom doesn't believe this) and he persuades mom that Lucy is awful. Lucy, in response, acts out, runs around, finds a lousy boyfriend and has sex while running around and getting into trouble and ticks off mom (thus supporting the evil guy's awful assessment of her behavior) so much that she gets thrown out. (I should mention here that mom is a two dimensional character whose motivations are never explained and really is a pretty crappy mother.) Lucy has thus been couch surfing with friends and her awful boyfriend for the past few months and is desperate and possibly suicidal.

What Lucy has never done is tell her father any of this. Because he "works for the navy" (??) he apparently can only see her two weeks out of the year. (He is not active duty in the military so what the heck this job is supposed to be that prevents him from providing a home for a 17 year old is about the biggest plot hole ever.) (I can just see the editorial meeting - "Give dad a job that prevents him from helping her - just make it up - anything will do. SIGH.) Dad still lives in the house she grew up in however and is portrayed as a decent and caring parent. So why Lucy would prefer to be shamed by her mother's boyfriend and become homeless instead of calling the man who loves her enough to fly her home for the holidays every year, is a mystery of epic proportions. And she never tells dad what is going on, even though he clearly wants to help. In fact she doesn't even tell Evan until page 289, right after they finally figure out that they want to be more than just friends. (Yes, that was a shocker.) And then after dropping the bombs about her life she flies back home and walks up to her mother's door with her suitcase. (WITHOUT EVER TELLING HER FATHER.)

This was a book throwing moment for me. You're going home to the mother who chose a verbally abusive borderline sexual predator instead of asking your father for help? Really? This is the right choice for any reasonable person to make? And the book doesn't give readers an answer as to what happens next. Lucy stands at the door, rings the bell and the chapter ends. Next is an epilogue a year later where Evan is happily in NYC trying to break in as a comic book artist and sits at a library and looks up and sees Lucy across the room. Why they are each there without having spoken to each other in year (even though Lucy's father is friends with Evan's parents) is unknown. And how the heck Lucy got there is unknown. It's just a great big happy ending even though it took more than 300 pages to get there.

Here's the thing. I understand that bad things happen. I'm totally on board with stories about the death of a parent or parents who make romantic choices for themselves that end up hurting their kids in physical or emotional ways. I get that. But there were a zillion ways for the characters in both of these books to effect positive change in their lives - a zillion easy ways like picking up the phone, or going to trusted family friends (who are mentioned in the books!) to get help. The fact that they made the wrong choices over and over again was simply not believable. In Irises, the younger sister Mary does see a social worker who is recommended by her best friend's mother. And when she tells Kate what she has learned she is rebuffed so the author can carry forward a few more chapters of anger and frustration for both girls. Rather than the two of them going to see this very nice social worker together, they have to blunder along some more and argue and cry.

Oh, and then after all that the mother's death is revealed only in a, you guessed, epilogue. Everything has turned out just great of course, even though it took nearly 300 pages to get there.

I feel like both Stork and Emonds had decent ideas (Stork had too many in my opinion though) but they asked way too much of their readers. They stretched my faith in their stories beyond the breaking limit. In the end not one of these characters seemed believable to me, nor did the situations they found themselves in. Drama is one thing but these two books were soap operas; all they needed were vampires to truly make their stories unreal. They lost me, which is a shame, because I really hoped for the best from both of them.

The difficulties of being the son of a "man's man"

I bought a copy of Strange Tribe from Powells after reading so much about Greg Hemingway in Hemingway's Boat. He was the most tortured of the author's three sons, and died while being held in jail after having a sex change operation. Greg's struggles as a transsexual are well documented as well as his bouts with depression. In Strange Tribe Greg's son John writes about the complicated often destructive relationship between Greg and Ernest and the Hemingway family's long struggle with depression. (It's not a "curse", it's biology.) I wanted some more insight into what it was like growing up as the son of one of the most infamous symbols of manhood in American history. The fact that Ernest was struggling with his own issues concerning what it means to be a man just makes the whole story that much more interesting.

It's difficult to read Strange Tribe and not feel a bit like a voyeur. John Hemingway is so honest about his family and his own relationship with Greg that sometimes you almost wince while reading. But Ernest casts such a large shadow over American literary and pop culture history that his story is pretty irresistible. What keeps me pursuing it is the desire to understand how a man will go to such great lengths to prove he is a man and how our definition of manhood - always changing - can lead some individuals to go beyond the limits of their own capabilities.

This is where the flying in Alaska angle comes in.

It is endlessly fascinating to me how the appeal of "being a man" never goes away. All those reality tv shows set in Alaska are about ideas of tough male behavior and so was much of what Hemingway wrote. But I don't have a problem with any of that (I think Hemingway's short stories in particular are excellent). I just want to understand it better so I can better understand the dangerous behaviors I witnessed and now write about. With that in mind, reading about how much Ernest Hemingway struggled nearly his whole life, both as a writer and man, and how much the family was at odds with each other for so very long, is fairly sobering. In many ways, it's a miracle that any of them made it out of that family capable of finding happiness at all. So many of the words he left behind carry such power but when it came to truly changing the world, the author couldn't do it at home, where it mattered most.

So many of us run away to prove something, and so many - like Hemingway - just keep on running forever. That is a big part of what I'm researching right now and what I lived at the Company where running (or escape) was part and parcel of who we were and why we were there. (Even those of us who weren't men!)

[Post pic of Ernest Hemingway with sons Patrick on left and Greg on right, November 1946. Courtesy JFK Library.]

In the cold places with bonus Lincoln, Berlin and birds

1. Two intriguing reviews at Bookforum for Jeanette Winterson's memoir Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? and Sarah Manguso's The Broken Elegy.

2. You really need to buy the current issue of Tinhouse.

3. My latest obsession is "dark rides".

4. Errol Morris, the "thinking man's detective", at Smithsonian Magazine.

5. Sherman Alexie and some other literary hoopsters playing ball for literary scholarships. It's a feel-good story! Yea!

What I'm Reading Now:

Polar Wives by Kari Herbert. No big surprise that I was eager to read this one. Herbert is the daughter of a polar explorer and writes here about the wives of several famous men (Scott, Shackleton, Peary etc). She used a ton of letters, diaries, etc and also arranges the book by theme rather than as a series of biographical sketches. I'm loving it.

Wonder Show by Hannah Barnaby. A creepy orphanage/circus YA novel that has already surprised me with its darkness. I was thinking about this one for my May column as it has a bit of a family angle but it's much more sinister that I expected. So later this summer or even fall. I'm halfway through though and it's quite good.

Call of the Mild by Lily Raff McCaulou. Memoir about a nonhunter who learns to hunt. I'm reviewing it for Booklist so that's all I can say!

And also a collection of Jim Harrison's nonfiction. I continue to be drawn more into the lives of men who write about men and what it means to be a man. I blame all of this on working far too long in a male-dominated profession.

What I recently read:

Lincoln's Dreams by Connie Willis. As a historian the draw of Willis's take on the Civil War was impossible for me to pass by and I wasn't disappointed. Many readers seem to have struggled with this one but I thought it was perfect. The science of dreams was Willis at her geeky best and the slow unfolding story of researcher Jeff and Annie, the girl he is falling for who dreams of the war in a way that is impossible but true, kept me riveted. I especially loved the ending, every perfectly sad bit of it.

The Coldest City by Antony Johnston. A gn set in Berlin during the final days of the Cold War. Spies are dying/disappearing, there is vital intelligence that may or may not have been stolen by the Russians and the Brits send in an unassuming female spy to get to the bottom of it. My only complaint is that the spare black & white illustrations made it hard to keep all the male characters straight. But overall, an excellent thriller with a great ending.

The Birding Life. A great big huge coffee table book that includes not only discussion of great birders (from Audubon to Roger Tory Peterson) but also current ornithologists, designers who use bird motifs, folks who decorate with bird imagery (include the Hollisters) and just great photography from start to finish. Well worth the price.

Anything - anything at all with Judi Dench is wonderful

Oh good gravy - where has the week gone? Well, we bought a new mattress (finally!) and the puppy (okay, he's 100lbs so a biiiig puppy) went insane and killed a plant in our living room by tearing it into teeny tiny pieces and getting it (and the dirt) everywhere, and I finalized a week long tour in Alaska (it's like crossing America so be impressed) and we nearly got all the taxes done (soon, soon, soon) and I was sick.

Oh yeah, that's where the week has gone. But still here are some bits of note:

1. New issue of Bookslut is out with my column about illustrated books and graphic novels. I think the literary world would be a better place with more illustrations in it. I know they make me happy.

2. After a peek at this bookstack I can only assume that Maud Newton and I are having some sort of reading convergence. I can't believe how many books to read we have in common - and such good taste we have! ha!

3. And hey - a Maud Newton podcast interview!

4. Andrea Barrett has fiction in the new issue of Tinhouse. That means that yes, I am all over getting a copy as soon as possible. (The issue is dedicated to science.) (This makes me very happy.)

5. I have finished reading Strange Tribes about the Hemingway family. I'm still thinking about it but soon I'm going to post about it. (There is a lot to think about.)

6. Finally, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel just looks fabulous - Judi Dench, Maggie Smith, Bill Nighy and on and on. I couldn't be more excited!

Some Hemingway, some science, some Beatles

What I'm reading right now:

Strange Tribe by John Hemingway - I have been reading a lot of Hemingway lately and after Hemingway's Boat I picked this one up to learn a bit more about the family. It's a really interesting book (written by a grandson of Ernest - one of Greg's sons) and shares a lot about the deep emotional problems in the family. (All I can say is that your mother can really screw you up. Big time.) (Not for review, just for my own reading pleasure.)

Baby's in Black by Arne Bellstorf - I'm so happy to see First Second come out with the graphic novel on fifth Beatle Stuart Sutcliffe. It's excellent to have the early history of the group, and such a fascinating person to boot, brought to a new generation. (This looks like my June column; not 100% sure yet.)

Half in Shade by Judith Kitchen - The author inherited a box of family photos and scrapbooks and ruminates on what they mean and might mean in this memoir. It's mostly about family, what you know, what you don't know and what you wish but also a bit about the cancer she was battling as she spent her time in the past. I've been going through the same family history thing myself lately so have a serious soft spot for this one. Lots of great pics too! (For review down the line - not sure when/where just yet.)

The Fate of the Species by Fred Guterl - for Booklist so I can't say much, of course!

Boltzman's Tomb by Bill Green - Excellent and highly readable collection of essays on science history by a truly engaging author. I have always been interested in science on broad terms - I want to know how people came to their conclusions and why and who they were and what was going on in their lives and what their families were like and on and on. I don't understand much about physics but I find Richard Feynman endlessly interesting, if that makes any sense. Anyway, Green writes about science in a way I understand and enjoy. Very good stuff. (And I'll be reviewing it for next month in Bookslut hopefully.)

I just finished Hustle by Jason Skipper and You Have Seven Messages by Stewart Lewis. In the latter case there's a moment where the protagonist notes this killer line from Mrs. Dalloway, that people are, "Always throwing parties to cover the silence." It struck me then that there could be a version of Mrs. Dalloway for high school because if that isn't just one big party to avoid all the trauma underneath, I don't know what is. (I do not know Dalloway well enough to even attempt this but I'm sure lots of you do. It would be a great book.) (Both of these books are for my May column which is all about family dramarama.)

Reviewing right now - Bird Sense by Tim Birkhead (for Booklist) and The Thorn and the Blossom by Theodoro Goss which I read a couple of months ago and adore and really should have reviewed then but made notes and didn't finish my review and now I'm getting it done for the spring issue of Eclectica (which goes live next month). I will be posting about it tomorrow though, so more on that then!