Olivetti

 Olivetti

By Allie Millington

I picked this up yesterday while in the Woodstock Library, where Kes had curled up with a Big Nate book
and didn't show signs of stopping. I didn't want to interrupt a good reading session on a summer's day, saw the type writer on the cover of this one, along with a supportive quote from Tom Hanks, and decided to give it a try.

The story is told from two perspectives. Ernest is a 7th-grader going through some very challenging times. He barely speaks to anyone, including his boisterous family of five, and spends much of his time pouring over the Oxford English Dictionary on the roof of his San Francisco apartment. Olivetti is, well, a typewriter. The idea here is that typewriters are sentient beings, sworn to hide their intelligence from human users, who take on and hold the memories of everything that was written with them.

This becomes quite handy when, one day, the matriarch of the family, Beatrice, disappears. It is the family's worst nightmare, but hits Ernest particularly hard. It turns out his psychological challenges stem largely from a bout of cancer that Beatrice survived over the course of several years prior. He just doesn't trust that anyone else he connects with won't suffer a similar fate. Doing some detective work, Ernest discovers that his mother has pawned Olivetti for $126 at a pawn shop across the street from his apartment. He returns there one evening, finds the door unlocked, and goes to the typewriter. He writes a short sentence, thinking it is to his mother: I think it's my fault you ran away. But it isn't Beatrice who responds -- it is Olivetti.

Ernest is, of course, shocked. But Olivetti says he will help him find his mother, so he absconds with the typewriter and his search continues in, well, earnest. With the help of Olivetti, and the pawn shop owner's daughter, Quinn, he is successful in finding Beatrice, whose disappearance is an irrational, but perhaps understandable, reaction to news that her cancer is back. She ran rather than have to face the fact that she would be putting her family through another round of sickness.

I finished this book in a day. I can't remember the last time I did that! It was a nice read.

Murder at Gulls Nest

 Murder at Gulls Nest

By Jess Kidd

This was my first read of the summer; I finished it just before our departure for Costa Rica on July 3, which

is why I am just getting to it now. 

This was a lovely little murder mystery that felt perfect for the days just after school got out. It was set in the scenic, but becoming-run-down seaside town of Gull's Nest in England. The main character, whose name I forget, is a nun who has just given up her vows after three or four decades in cloister. The spark that set this move in motion, though it had been long simmering, was the disappearance of another newly-freed nun who had rented a room in Gull's Nest, faithfully corresponded with our accidental detective -- and then suddenly stopped. Such is the main character's loyalty to this friend, that she is convinced something must have happened. 

It did, of course, which becomes all-too-obvious when another murder happens at the same inn that the main character and her former friend take rooms. And then another. The former nun helps guide the investigation, which leads, improbably, to a wife whose groom, it turns out, was gay. The other murders were simply cover-ups for that one. 

Can't say this book was earth shattering, but it kept me turning the pages.

The Fortress of Solitude

 The Fortress of Solitude

By Jonathan Lethem

This year marked the 20th anniversary of my graduation from college; I was unable, or unwilling, to attend

my reunion. But it felt like a milestone worth marking. So I decided to reread this novel, which I consumed while on a transcontinental train ride from LA to Boston that I took from college to NH, where my parents still lived.

The first part of the book I remembered quite clearly. It features Dylan, whose parents, especially his mother, move the family into Brooklyn as part of some idealistic experiment. The mother had been a "Brooklyn kid", and so would her son. He is "one of only three white kids in his school." She is proud of this. His father, a painter who has decided that his life's work will be a hand-painted film that nobody will every likely see, is oblivious. The Ebdus' are not the only white newcomers to Dean St., but others are there less because of progressive ideals than conservative ones -- they wish to "reclaim" the neighborhood. They no longer live in Gowans, but in Boerum Hill.

Whiteness comes to define Dylan's childhood much as blackness defines others depending on who is the minority. It has its pros. He is exposed to everything that was hip in Brooklyn's black community in the 1970s, and will be in the rest of the white nation not long after. Deep funk. Weed. Graffiti. But it has its downsides too. He is constantly "yoked", or stolen from, usually with some sort of physical reminder of his lowly place in the world. The major saving grace is the arrival on Dean Street of Mingus Rude, who is the son of a once-famous soul singer and who becomes something of a best friend/protector to Dylan. Together, the two navigate adolescents with the help of a ring bestowed upon Dylan by a wino that he has seen fly. The ring helps them fly.

But it is only Dylan who is able to escape Dean Street. It isn't easy. He is expelled from a fancy Vermont college and winds up in Berkeley with a Brooklyn-sized chip on his shoulder. He lives in the past, penning the liner notes to box sets of old blues and soul records. 

I found that the story lost its vitality a bit in the second part of the book, when Dylan tries to reckon with his childhood. I wish the ring and its magical powers, which threaten to send the book into parts beyond realistic fiction, had played a larger role. But, still. It's a brilliant book. Perhaps I will revisit it in another 10 years.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

By Douglas Adams

Thought I would pick up a little sci-fi. Plus I liked the slim size of this paper back with a reputation for
irreverence.

Silly, the book definitely was. It tells the story of an ordinary Earthling, Arthur Dent, who is swept off the plant by his friend, Ford Prefect, who, it turns out, isn't an Earthling but a visitor from space doing research on our plant for the book The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The sweeping happens just in time, at precisely the moment that earth is destroyed to make way for an interstellar super highway -- which, it turns out, wasn't actually necessary.

It's that type of absurdity/bureaucratic parody that runs through the book. It's been a bit of a slog for me, to be honest, as the plot makes no attempt at realism. Even though I just finished it, I don't really know what happened. Guess I'm not sure what all the fuss is about. 

The Mona Lisa Vanishes

 The Mona Lisa Vanishes

By Nicholas Day

What a wonderful book! Erin gave it to me after I finished my last book. I will say that I'm not usually one
for nonfiction. I need story! But this nonfiction book had it in droves. It unfolds like a classic who-done-it, alternating between the mysteries of Leonardo da Vinci in Renaissance Italy and the disappearance of his painting 500 years later or so. It also tells a great tale of life in the early 1900s, which seems so distant from now but was, much like today, a time of rapid technological growth and societal change. 

Peace Like a River

 Peace Like a River

By Leif Enger

I saw a book by this author in our school library. I'd never heard of him, and on the flap it mentioned that it
was a follow-up of sorts to his best-seller Peace Like a River. So rather than risk the new book, I went back to the old one to see what it was like.

It was quite the departure from the last novel I picked up, Martyr!. That one was wonderful, but also frenetic and chaotic and anxious. This one was, in contrast, quite peaceful -- despite the air of violence that envelops it.

The book tells the story of the Land family. They are nothing if tight-knit, turning their hardscrabble, rented house in western Minnesota into a veritable home. They would be the typical "all-American" family if not for two facts. First, the mother of the family has abandoned them, too disappointed in her husband's decision, made after taking a ride in a twister and emerging unscathed, to cease his studies to become a doctor in favor of janitoring. And second, this little sojourn in the tornado has somehow bestowed upon the elder Land some mystical, if not God-like qualities. He can, in fact, occasionally and, it seems, accidentally perform miracles. One day, he wanders off the edge of a porch and continues walking into midair. On another, his touch heals the face of the man in the act of firing him. 

The cozy domestic scene, however, is disrupted one evening when the eldest boy, Davy, lying in wait for two ne'er-do-well teen aged enemies, kills them when they enter the children's bedroom brandishing a bat. It would seem like self-defense, except he walks up to one of the boys writhing in pain on the floor and shoots him in the head like an injured horse. 

Davy is hauled off to jail, charged with manslaughter, and put on trial. Which doesn't go all too well. So Davy decides to up and leave. When the police can't find him for days, the rest of his family does the same, using a recently-inherited Airstream trailer to try to track Davy down. Somehow, they end up at a farmhouse gas station run by a woman named Roxanne in the badlands of North Dakota. There they -- well, only the book's 11-year-old narrator Reuben -- find Davy, and Jeremiah Land finds a beau. Rube takes several midnight rides to Davy's hideout, which he shares with a shadowy, dangerous-seeming fellow named Jape. Rube is happy to keep these rendezvous secret until he learns that the policeman pursuing Davy, to whom Rube and the family had eventually taken a liking, has located the hideout and plans to try take Davy there. Rube knows Jape won't like that, and will probably kill the policeman. So he blabs, and leads a posse of local ranchers there.

They are too late. The cabin is empty, save for the lawman's hat, which is not a good sign. Davy is gone. The family, however, is newly buoyed  by the fact that Roxanne will be joining them -- permanently. They had back to Minnesota, where there is a wedding and a move into a new home. Things are looking up. Then Davy returns. Unbeknownst to him, Jape has followed. And when Davy goes to leave, there is violence. Rube is shot. So is Jeremiah. The former's wound appears more serious. But Jeremiah is a miracle worker, and trades his life for his sons's.

Reading this book was like wearing a warm blanket on a cold day. Its prose, even in the tensest of moments, was just so earnest. It had me returning in my head to my Grandparent's house, to my own childhood when I was unencumbered by responsibilities. I read it in almost a dreamlike haze. I think I happened upon it at just the right moment.

Long Island

 Long Island

By Colm Toibin

The second novel following the life of Irish immigrant Eilish finds her facing a crisis. Her husband, Tony, a
plumber, has had an affair with one of his clients' wives, and she is pregnant. Soon, the husband comes to Eilish, and, in grand and angry fashion, declares that he will be depositing the baby on her doorstep, so she better get ready to raise it.

She isn't. She draws a line in the sand with her husband, but it isn't Tony that she has to deal with. The life they have carved out for themselves on Long Island includes a small compound with homes for Tony's parents and siblings all on the same plot of land. At the beginning of the novel, Eilish had made a sort of peace with this somewhat stifling environment. But her mother-in-laws' control over the family, including the fate of the unborn child, is too much for Eilish to take. She has made it clear to Tony: the baby or me. But Tony, it turns out, is more afraid of his mother than his wife.

Eilish flees to Ireland, using her mother's 80th birthday as an excuse. She hasn't, in fact, seen her mother in decades, though she has been sure to send monthly updates on her family. Their reunion isn't exactly a happy one. Eilish's mother refuses to ask her about her life in America, and is as rude and controlling as her mother-in-law. But things begin to thaw when Eilish's children arrive. Her mother softens, taken with her daughter Rosella, and Eilish begins to see that she could have a life separate from Tony.

It is then that Eilish rekindles a romance with Jim Farwell, a local pub owner with whom Eilish had something of a fling many years before, when she had come home for her sister's funeral a secretly-married woman. She never told Jim of her elopement, and he was sure they would marry. Then she abruptly left for the US, and had no correspondence since. Complicating matters was that Jim is on the cusp of something like a new life. He, after years of bachelorhood, has found a partner in Nancy, Eilish's once-best friend, and they have decided to marry.

But Jim cannot resist Eilish, who knows nothing of his relationship with Nancy. It is something like a reversal of Eilish's previous visit. Except that Jim is eager to leave Nancy and start a new life with Eilish. It is not to be. Nancy finds out about the affair and, without letting anyone know she knows, ends it by revealing to the whole town that she and Jim are engaged. He will have to stay after all.

The back of the book describes it as "quiet", but I didn't find it that way. Perhaps it is because of my own life stage that I found it excruciatingly intense. To me, Eilish's return totally upended the lives of the people of Enniscorthy just as they were about to find some sort of peace -- just as she had done before. I wonder if the whole series is some sort of meditation on the disruption that mass emigration played on Ireland and its villages. It seems as though, in this case, it threatens to tear them apart, both because of the loss of people but also because the people who remained can't help but wonder whether they made the right decision. Just like the people who left.