Historical fiction is not usually a favorite of mine. It's too much like oatmeal - supposed to be good for you but not very delicious. Anytime you add in a love story though, it gets better. This was a pretty good love story.
Claire Randall starts out in Scotland - 1945 and ends up in the same place only 200 years earlier. She leaves a husband, but not much else. No children or other relatives are left behind. We don't learn what her poor husband does in her absence - it is somewhat callous treatment of him I thought.
Young, handsome Jamie Fraser comes along and they run around Scotland having many adventures trying to avoid the sadistic, gay, bad guy (an early ancestor of her present day husband). They also have to sort out and deal with evil secret plans of Jamie's clansmen. There is one scene where Jamie beats her because she disobeyed his orders and this is passed on as justice. It really creeped me out and I actually found myself crying out of humiliation for her. I didn't really recover after that. Their love story was pleasant but didn't affect me nearly as much as it seems to have affected others.
There are other books in the series. I may read them - I am curious about what happens to this pair, but I am not desperate to follow this thread.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
The Brothers K - David James Duncan
The pace was slower than what I needed right now. The major themes were religion, baseball and the blending of the two. Love, forgiveness and justification for bizarre behavior were also present and never cease to confound me. Overt selfishness gets old fast, but what about the argument that we are all essentially selfish and the act of being selfless makes us feel good so is, therefore, selfish. That argument leaves me with no response but a dull sadness. No enlightenment there. No possibility for change.
This story was about a family of 8 living in the Pacific NW - not far from where I live. Comfort and security for the mother is found in her Adventist faith. Comfort and security for the father is found in baseball - specifically pitching. This is where the book gets it's title - K is the symbol for "strike out swinging". Optimism in failure - hmmm? Each of the 4 boys had a theme that slowly worked itself out in a beautifully written way.
For Kincade, the story had to do with his mother and their relationship. When you don't understand what drives a certain kind of devotion, it can install a wedge between people and keep them separate - infuriatingly visible, but not reachable. There is a place where Kincade describes a kind of giving up feeling that I really identified with. "I felt at times that she loved me. I also felt, almost constantly, that she disliked me. And I was satisfied to reciprocate. It damaged us. But that's the way it was."
The family struggled to stay close - to find the common ground that they could share together. The person who was best at this was Irwin. He could pass easily, without harming anyone, between the areas of faith and sports. He had a great love of life and everything in it. His ability to love was huge and infectious and very likable. This created a kind of doom around him because anyone who is witnessing a story understands that bad things happen to the kind, happy, innocent guy. Vietnam happened to Irwin and it was pretty bad. The family rallied around him in a rescue mission that was heartening.
Everett, the oldest boy, waged a battle for individual authenticity. He developed a hunger and need for a crowd of people who would feed his image as a wise, witty truth teller. It was mostly bullshit - the stuff of bumper stickers. I see these people in very liberal Portland, OR and having already been acquainted with this smug crowd pleaser, I was happy to see him come to his senses and finally become his real self.
Peter was the second to the oldest and just as obsessed with spirituality as his mother, but not the Adventist kind. This was a deal breaker for them that was almost permanent. As soon as he was able, he left home for school working his brain as hard as he could, seeking enlightenment. His struggle was hard to define, but it was finally put this way, "Some long-lived insidious problems simply slip us off to one side of ourselves. Some gently rob us of just enough energy or faith so that days which once took place on a horizontal plane become an endless series of uphill slogs." I get that. Hard.
I enjoyed this book - I will probably reflect back on images of hope, love, maturation and that terrible sense of unhinged freedom that settles after a screaming family freakout.
This story was about a family of 8 living in the Pacific NW - not far from where I live. Comfort and security for the mother is found in her Adventist faith. Comfort and security for the father is found in baseball - specifically pitching. This is where the book gets it's title - K is the symbol for "strike out swinging". Optimism in failure - hmmm? Each of the 4 boys had a theme that slowly worked itself out in a beautifully written way.
For Kincade, the story had to do with his mother and their relationship. When you don't understand what drives a certain kind of devotion, it can install a wedge between people and keep them separate - infuriatingly visible, but not reachable. There is a place where Kincade describes a kind of giving up feeling that I really identified with. "I felt at times that she loved me. I also felt, almost constantly, that she disliked me. And I was satisfied to reciprocate. It damaged us. But that's the way it was."
The family struggled to stay close - to find the common ground that they could share together. The person who was best at this was Irwin. He could pass easily, without harming anyone, between the areas of faith and sports. He had a great love of life and everything in it. His ability to love was huge and infectious and very likable. This created a kind of doom around him because anyone who is witnessing a story understands that bad things happen to the kind, happy, innocent guy. Vietnam happened to Irwin and it was pretty bad. The family rallied around him in a rescue mission that was heartening.
Everett, the oldest boy, waged a battle for individual authenticity. He developed a hunger and need for a crowd of people who would feed his image as a wise, witty truth teller. It was mostly bullshit - the stuff of bumper stickers. I see these people in very liberal Portland, OR and having already been acquainted with this smug crowd pleaser, I was happy to see him come to his senses and finally become his real self.
Peter was the second to the oldest and just as obsessed with spirituality as his mother, but not the Adventist kind. This was a deal breaker for them that was almost permanent. As soon as he was able, he left home for school working his brain as hard as he could, seeking enlightenment. His struggle was hard to define, but it was finally put this way, "Some long-lived insidious problems simply slip us off to one side of ourselves. Some gently rob us of just enough energy or faith so that days which once took place on a horizontal plane become an endless series of uphill slogs." I get that. Hard.
I enjoyed this book - I will probably reflect back on images of hope, love, maturation and that terrible sense of unhinged freedom that settles after a screaming family freakout.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Broken for You - Stephanie Kallos
Breaks, cracks and fissures in the soul are the prerequisits for intimacy. I will remember this from this book. I loved the characters and how their lives were laid out like puzzle pieces. The author seems to know that this is crazy impossible - but it's the magic of fiction. You can make all circumstances of chance however you want when you are writing. I like it best when an author doesn't apologize for that.
Margaret's death didn't seem scary with her mother and young son visiting her from wherever dead people are. They hung out with her - other people couldn't see them and they sort of kept her company. That seemed so comforting.
They broke rigid precious things in order to rebuild something better and more meaningful. We hold onto the rigid precious things and keep them safe when maybe we should let them break. Maybe that is stupid and dead wrong and I am under the spell of fiction.
Margaret's death didn't seem scary with her mother and young son visiting her from wherever dead people are. They hung out with her - other people couldn't see them and they sort of kept her company. That seemed so comforting.
They broke rigid precious things in order to rebuild something better and more meaningful. We hold onto the rigid precious things and keep them safe when maybe we should let them break. Maybe that is stupid and dead wrong and I am under the spell of fiction.
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