Heart the Lover

 Heart the Lover

By Lily King

My reaction to the first part of this book was: Ugh. It is set in the late 1980s in a Pennsylvania college,
where there develops something of a love triangle between characters named Jordan (the girl) and two best friends, Sam and Yash. It is an angsty time for all of them as they fall into and out of love with one another. There comes a time when Jordan and Yash are on the cusp of a future together. Jordan moves back from Paris to New York, thinking she is going to meet Yash there. But he never shows. Never even calls. 

The "ugh" is because it recalled similar times of my own, thinking I had met "the one", only to have that fall through, and generally feeling like a happy life partnership -- like the one I have now -- was an impossibility. I didn't like that feeling, and didn't particularly care for the process that got me to where I am today.

Erin, who read this book before me, had her own ugh, which was similar to the reviewer on NPR. It recalled for her the misogyny baked into higher education, where males are seen as the true possessors of knowledge and women objects who should bow before their knowledge. I saw this only when it was pointed out to me, perhaps proof of its existence.

But I made it through that first part. And that's when the novel picked up for me. It fast forwards several decades to when Jordan, whose actual name is Casey, is in her 40s, married in Maine, with a house and two kids. Her old flame, Yash, drops by on his way through a tour up the state's coast. Reading this part felt like home. Like I was reading about my own life. 

I hope I wasn't, because there is, of course, a twist. Casey's son develops a brain tumor, and domestic bliss turns into a nightmare of waiting for a surgery that may give him a new lease on life, kill him, or, worse, turn him into a vegetable. Meanwhile, Yash, too, is suffering from cancer. Casey visits him at his hospital deathbed. They hash some things out, and Casey reveals that she'd been 5 months pregnant when Yash stood her up in New York. She is, briefly, torn out of her life and into the past. 

It's no less excruciating than the beginning of the novel, and yet: it's middle aged. I don't often think of myself that way, but, since I identified so strongly with that portion of the novel, perhaps I should.

South of the Border, West of the Sun

 South of the Border, West of the Sun

By Haruki Murakami

It's been a while since I've read a Murakami book, and Erin happened upon this one at the library. So I was

excited to pick it up.

This one features a very classic Murakami man. Self-centered, in a dead-end job, haunted by past women in his life. In this case it Shimimoto, who he bonded with in elementary school because they were both only children, apparently a rarity in those days. He was close with her until his family moved and they lost touch. 

As an adult, the man is adrift working as a textbook editor until he meets the woman who becomes his wife. Her father is a wealthy businessman, and backs his opening of two very successful bars/jazz clubs. All is going well: two kids, plenty of money. Then Shimimoto, drawn by the press coverage of the bars, shows up. And all of a sudden the guy can't stop thinking about her; he loves her. He takes a strange journey with her to a river, in which she dumps the ashes of her stillborn baby. The two carry on a platonic affair until, one night, it is consummated. 

In the morning, though, Shiminoto is nowhere to be found. She is gone without a trace. There is a suggestion that perhaps she was merely a figment of the man's imagination. Either way, he is distraught, and all but confesses to his wife, who is beyond understanding, telling him she will stay or go -- whatever he wants. Eventually, he stays.

It's hard to read this as anything other than some weird fantasy. Maybe Murakami wants to be able to sleep around without consequence? Maybe I'm missing something? I don't know, but this book didn't live up to my expectations. The main problem was that magical realism never really crept in. It never got truly weird. Which is what I look for in Murakami. Ah well.

Murder in Constantinople

 Murder in Constantinople

By A.E. Goldin

Set in the 1850s, this book follows the adventures of Ben Canaan, a Jewish resident of England -- at the
time, one couldn't be fully British and Jewish -- who, after accidentally crossing a local gangster, suggests he lay low half a world away in Constantinople, where he hopes to solve the mystery of a long-lost love whose picture mysteriously appeared in the suit of a high-ranking official hoping to secure his tailor-father's services. 

That was a long sentence. Too long, some might say.

Constantinople had a reputation at the time of being a dangerous city and Ben, having nowhere else to turn, finds himself at a local synagogue. The rabbi there offers him a few rooms. But things soon turn sticky, and Ben is thrust into the center of a plot to take down the Sultan, who then led the Ottoman Empire. He risks his life many times, but is able, with the help of some new friends, to foil the plan and ensure the continuity of an important British ally in a war against the Russians. The Crimean War, I believe.

To be honest, the book felt stilted and full of tropes. The plot was good enough to keep me reading, but I don't plan to pick up any of its sequels. The most interesting part was the exploration of the Jewish community at the time and its place in society.

Indian Country

 Indian Country

By Shobha Rao

One of the best books I've picked up in a while!

This tells the story of an Indian couple who find themselves in rural Montana. They also find themselves
together. Janavi is a younger sister who acts like an older one -- until her mother dies. She is listless to the point of drowning herself in the Ganges, but holds back until she remembers the promise she made: to take care of her older, meeker sister Rajni. Her decision to live puts her back in the world, and she finds a meaningful path as a worker for an NGO trying to help street children in her city, Varanasi. But that is upended one day when her sister is set to meet her arranged betrothed. Rajni, it turns out, has a beau, one chosen for love. She convinces Sagar, to whom she has been committed since birth, to claim he wants to marry Janavi, who is aghast but unwilling to face the consequences of refusing the proposal. And so she is married.

She must also move. Sagar, a hydraulic engineer, has taken a  job in eastern Montana, in part to flee from his brother, who is a living reminder of the biggest mistake he has ever made: pushing him into a swimming hole, where he injured himself and became disabled for life.

At first, things go well -- at least professionally. Janavi is furious at her situation. But Sagar has been obsessed with rivers since a kid, and is excited at being a lead engineer on a project for the first time. His job is to remove a dam on the Cotton River. It's a project that has the support of the local native tribe, but not some of the most powerful men in town. The day that the first drainage notch is cut in the river, tragedy strikes. A co-worker, who has become a close friend, is found dead. Sagar's engineering work is blamed. He is fired and given six weeks to leave the country.

But Sagar knows his numbers, knows that it's not his work that cause the death. And so he and Janavi set out to find answers. In the process, they grow closer together -- while the Rajni's marriage in India falls into abuse. 

The book touches on lots of themes, including gender roles, race, and colonialism. It was a great read.

The Rider

 The Rider

By Tim Krabbè

I actually bought this book. It was recommended to me by Mark Ericson, a new teacher at our school with

whom I've gone a few bike rides. He is a die-hard. He came to Vermont from LA, where he commuted to work everyday, a tradition he's kept up in Woodstock.

The book is a 150-page account of a 150-kilometer bike race through the mountains of France. It is told from the perspective of one Tim Krabbè; it is a little unclear how autobiographical it is. It is almost stream of consciousness, toggling back and forth between the rider's "sporting history" as a child and young man and thoughts about racing strategy. Krabbè very much wants to win this race. 

It is a slim novel, but I will say that I found it a bit of a slog at times. It is filled with suffering, emotional and physical as Krabbè tries to pull off his first win at a well-known race. But while reading the last thirty pages, I found my palms sweating and my heart racing. I, too, desperately wanted Krabbè. Spoiler alert: He doesn't, falling 10 cm short after a sprint to the finish. It is heartbreaking, and the reader is left wondering: will Krabbè get back on the bike?

This one left me: A) Pretty firm in my belief that bicycle racing isn't for me; and B) Wanting to read some of Krabbè's other work.

Walk Two Moons

 Walk Two Moons

By Sharon Creech

This was some serious YA fiction, and I really liked it. Not sure what that says about my mindset these
days, but I really dig the way YA writers tell stories. 

This book's main character is Sal, who has recently moved to bland, suburban Ohio after spending most of her childhood on a farm in Kentucky, a place she loved and misses dearly. Why the move? Sal's mother left the family, and, it seems, isn't coming back.

The particulars of the departure unfold as Sal entertains her grandparents as they drive across the country to Lewiston, Idaho, with tales of her friend in Ohio named Phoebe. Phoebe is at turns likeable and pretty horrible, but the friendship is cemented when her mother suddenly disappears, too. Sal keeps her own first-hand experience with this to herself, but the shared trauma of the experience endears Phoebe to her. 

Throughout the book, the reader is kept thinking that Sal is on her way to reunite with her mother, who, we learn, left after suffering a miscarriage that led to depression. It feels like a hopeful journey. But then we learn why Sal's mother isn't coming back: she's dead. It was a bus crash that did it, and the journey Sal is on is merely to visit her mother's grave and pay her final respects. 

All in all, this was a great tale. Sal is a wonderful character that you keep rooting for all the way.

I Cheerfully Refuse

 I Cheerfully Refuse

By Leif Enger

This was the book that initially inspired me to pick up Peace Like a River, which I think I read last winter

and enjoyed. So I came back to this one after going up on another, more literary book.

This is set in a vague apocalyptic future in Michigan along the shores of Lake Superior. The main character, Rainy, has somehow managed to carve out a pretty good life with his partner, Lark, a former librarian-turned-bookstore owner, a sign of rebellion at a time when reading has become suspicious. Rainy, meanwhile, is a bass player in local bar bands. 

This world is turned upside down when a young man enters their lives. Rainy and Lark like him, and want to help. They suspect he is an escapee from a work farm, a place with reportedly horrible conditions that prey on people desperate for income but who nevertheless often cannot stand the brutality of the deal. But he turns out to be much more. As Rainy will learn, he has stolen a large amount of Willow, a new suicide drug that has become popular with "explorers" too eager to see what lies beyond this life to wait for natural death. The drug is worth lots, and soon people come to Rainy's home. When they don't find the drug, they take Lark's life instead. And Rainy goes on the run.

He does it on a sloop in Lake Superior, trying to stay away from his pursuers but also hoping to meet up with Lark in The Slates, a set of islands where he and Lark once ran into the author of I Cheerfully Refuse despite the fact that she had died many years ago. He is successful for a while, and takes on board a young woman from an abused home. But his luck does run out. His fate is better than most: The head of the pharmaceutical-producing ship his is taken to asks him to play the bass for him, and so Rainy is treated to real food and regular release from his cell. Yet when the rest of the crew rebels, Rainy joins them. Things end more or less happily every after.

I'm not exactly sure what this books was trying to say, and it definitely felt a little tedious by the end.