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The Book Club meets at
7 PM
unless otherwise noted. |
Book Reviews
for Current Selections |
Past Selections
2010
2009
2008
2007 |
Call 330.653.6658 x 1010
for more information |
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Past Selections |
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2008 |
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Away
by
Amy Bloom |
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KIRKUS REVIEWS:
A Russian Jewish woman's struggles to
survive in America, then recapture the past brutally stolen
from her, are recorded with eloquent compression in this
striking second novel from NBA nominee Bloom (Normal:
Transsexual CEOs, Crossdressing Cops, and Hermaphrodites
with Attitude, 2002, etc.). In a brisk narrative of the
events of two crowded years (1924-26), we encounter
immigrant Lillian Leyb working as a seamstress on New York's
Lower East Side, and becoming mistress to both theater owner
Reuben Burstein and his homosexual son Meyer (a popular
matinee idol). Lillian's stoicism masks the terror that
haunts her in recurring dreams-of the massacre of her family
by "goyim" revenging themselves on Jews sharing the meager
resources of their village (Turov) and of the reported
subsequent death of her beloved daughter Sophie. When
another relative newly arrived in America reports that
Sophie lives (having been rescued by a family that moved on
to Siberia), Lillian embarks on a complex pilgrimage that
takes her to Seattle and points north. She survives being
robbed and beaten, bonds with a resourceful black
prostitute, is sent for her own safety to a women's work
farm by the one man (widowed constable Arthur Gilpin) who
seems not to have sexual designs on her, then makes her way
across the Yukon to the Alaskan coast, encountering a
refugee exiled following an accidental killing, John Bishop,
who will be either her last best hope of finding Sophie or
the alternative to a life of ceaseless wandering and
suffering. Summary doesn't do justice to this compact epic's
richness of episode and characterization, nor to the
exemplary skill with which Bloom increases her story's
resonance through dramatic foreshadowing of what lies ahead
for her grifters and whores and romantic visionaries and
stubborn, hard-bitten adventurers. Echoes of Ragtime, Cold
Mountain and Irving Howe's World of Our Fathers, in an
amazingly dense, impressively original novel. |
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Devil Came on Horseback
by Brian Steidle |
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PUBLISHERS WEEKLY:
Though Cummings seems younger and more naïve than the
narrator of this appalling history, he does convey the
growing disbelief and revulsion that former Marine Captain
Steidle feels during his six months as an African Union
observer of the Darfur genocide. In ever-rising tones,
Cummings conveys Steidle's developing incredulity,
frustration, horror and impotence as he witnesses and
actually photographs the janjaweed arrive on horseback to
systematically rape, torture, murder and mass slaughter
200,000 men, women and children, then loot and torch one
village after another. Every day the unarmed AU observers
interview the victims and the perpetrators, but their
mandate is to observe and report on each infringement of the
so-called cease-fire; they can in no way interfere-no matter
how horrific the crime. What is hardest for Steidle (and
listeners) to stomach is the utter complacency of the U.N.,
the U.S. and the world's other powers mutely observing what
can only be called genocide. (On April 16, 2007, Sudan
finally approved the deployment of attack helicopters and
3,000 U.N. peacekeepers.) |
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Eat, Pray, Love
by
Elizabeth Gilbert |
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KIRKUS REVIEWS:
An unsuccessful attempt at a memoir from novelist and
journalist Gilbert (The Last American Man, 2002, etc.).
While weeping one night on the bathroom floor because her
marriage was falling apart, the author had a profound
spiritual experience, crying out to and hearing an answer of
sorts from God. Eventually, Gilbert left her husband, threw
herself headlong into an intense affair, then lapsed into as
intense a depression when the affair ended. After all that
drama, we get to the heart of this book, a year of travel
during which the author was determined to discover peace and
pleasure. In Rome, she practiced Italian and ate scrumptious
food. Realizing that she needed to work on her "boundary
issues," she determined to forego the pleasure of sex with
Italian men. In India, she studied at the ashram of her
spiritual guru (to whom she had been introduced by the
ex-lover), practiced yoga and learned that in addition to
those pesky difficulties with boundaries, she also had
"control issues." Finally she headed to Bali, where she
became the disciple of a medicine man, befriended a single
mother and fell in love with another expat. Quirky
supporting characters pop up here and there, speaking a
combination of wisdom and cliche. At the ashram, for
example, she meets a Texan who offers such improbable
aphorisms as, "You gotta' stop wearing your wishbone where
your backbone oughtta' be." Gilbert's divorce and subsequent
depression, which she summarizes in about 35 pages, are in
fact more interesting than her year of travel.
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Glass
Castle
by Jeannette Walls |
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KIRKUS REVIEWS:
An account of growing up nomadic, starry-eyed, and dirt poor
in the '60s and '70s, by gossip journalist Walls (Dish,
2000). From her first memory, of catching fire while boiling
hotdogs by herself in the trailer park her family was
passing through, to her last glimpse of her mother, picking
through a New York City Dumpster, Walls' detached, direct,
and unflinching account of her rags-to-riches life proves a
troubling ride. Her parents, Rex Walls, from the poor mining
town of Welch, West Virginia, and Rose Mary, a well-educated
artist from Phoenix, love a good adventure and usually don't
take into account the care of the children who keep
arriving-Lori, Jeannette, Brian, and Maureen-leaving them
largely to fend for themselves. For entrepreneur and drinker
Rex, "Doing the skedaddle" means getting out of town fast,
pursued by creditors. Rex is a dreamer, and someday his
gold-digging tool (the Prospector), or, better, his
ingenious ideas for energy-efficiency, will fund the
building of his desert dream house, the Glass Castle. But
moving from Las Vegas to San Francisco to Nevada and back to
rock-bottom Welch provides a precarious existence for the
kids-on-and-off schooling, living with exposed wiring and no
heat or plumbing, having little or nothing to eat.
Protesting their paranoia toward authority and their
insistence on "true values" for their children ("What
doesn't kill you will make you stronger," chirps Mom), these
parents have some dubious nurturing practices, such as
teaching the children to con and shoplift. The deprivations
do sharpen the wits of the children-leading to the family's
collective escape to New York City, where they all make
good, even the parents, who are content to live homeless.
The author's tell-it-like-it-was memoir is moving because
it's unsentimental; she neither demonizes nor idealizes her
parents, and there remains an admirable libertarian quality
about them, though it justifiably elicits the children's
exasperation and disgust. Walls' journalistic bare-bones
style makes for a chilling, wrenching, incredible testimony
of childhood neglect. A pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps,
thoroughly American story. |
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Handmaid's Tale
by Margaret Atwood |
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LIBRARY JOURNAL:
In a startling departure from her previous novels (Lady
Oracle, Surfacing), respected Canadian poet and novelist
Atwood presents here a fable of the near future. In the
Republic of Gilead, formerly the United States, far-right
Schlafly/Falwell-type ideals have been carried to extremes
in the monotheocratic government. The resulting society is a
feminist's nightmare: women are strictly controlled, unable
to have jobs or money and assigned to various classes: the
chaste, childless Wives; the housekeeping Marthas; and the
reproductive Handmaids, who turn their offspring over to the
``morally fit'' Wives. The tale is told by Offred (read:
``of Fred''), a Handmaid who recalls the past and tells how
the chilling society came to be. |
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House of Sand and Fog
by Andre Dubus |
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LIBRARY JOURNAL:
Through a careless bureaucratic error, Kathy Nicolo is
evicted from her three-bedroom home in the California hills
near San Francisco. Her marriage is over, her recovery from
drug addiction is tenuous, and her income is almost
nonexistent. Lester Burdon, the deputy sheriff who evicts
her, also falls for her and vows to help her get the house
back. Meanwhile, the house is sold at auction to Colonel
Behrani, who hopes to resell it at enormous profit to help
finance his return to his easy life in pre-revolutionary
Iran. The legal machinery grinds on slowly too slowly for
the humans involved. The three main characters come from
different cultures, religions, and social settings. The
pleas, threats, arguments, and suggestions of each
individual are incomprehensible to the others, escalating to
a tragic and inevitable conclusion. Well produced, this book
captures the hope, confusion, resolve, and uncertainty of
all the characters. The frustration and anger are visceral,
the tension intense. The actions of the players are made
meaningful through the descriptions of their histories,
cultures, and previous experiences. |
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Loving Frank
by Nancy Horan |
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KIRKUS REVIEWS:
Journalist Horan's debut novel reflects her fascination with
the brilliant, erratic architect Frank Lloyd Wright and his
scandalous love affair with a married woman and mother of
two. The book capitalizes on Horan's research into both the
architect's private and professional lives. The story opens
when Mamah (pronounced May-Muh) Cheney, an Oak Park, Ill.,
woman, and her husband Edwin, a successful local
businessman, contract with Frank to build their new home.
Although both Frank and Mamah are married and seem content,
the architect and his female client soon find they not only
like being together-they must be together. Mamah, an early
feminist longing for a more meaningful life, succumbs to
Frank's charms as the two enter an affair that is both
physical and spiritual. Soon, their relationship is the hook
for all of Oak Park's gossip. After leaving their spouses,
the pair flees to Europe, finding delight in a less-
disapproving continental society, as well as an outlet for
their cultural pursuits. Frank, father of the "prairie
style" of architecture, proves a thoughtless and
irresponsible businessman, but Mamah remains by his side
until the couple finally quits Europe and returns home.
There, Frank builds a home they call Taliesin. Eventually,
Mamah makes peace with her former husband and her two
children-son John and daughter Martha-who visit her at the
rural estate. However, Frank's wife, Catherine, adamantly
continues her refusal to grant her husband a divorce. But
just when it appears that their relationship problems have
lessened, a terrible and unanticipated tragedy strikes and
changes forever the lives of the two lovers who were
forbidden to marry. Lovers Frank and Mamah fail to generate
sympathy, and the story closes with the unsubtle reminder
that real life is never quite as tidy as fiction. |
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One Thousand White Women
by Jim Fergus |
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KIRKUS REVIEWS:
Long, brisk, charming first
novel about an 1875 treaty between Ulysses S. Grant and
Little Wolf, chief of the Cheyenne nation, by the sports
reporter and author of the memoir A Hunter's Road
(1992). Little Wolf comes to Washington and suggests to
President Grant that peace between the Whites and Cheyenne
could be established if the Cheyenne were given white women
as wives, and that the tribe would agree to raise the
children from such unions. The thought of miscegenation
naturally enough astounds Grant, but he sees a certain
wisdom in trading 1,000 white women for 1,000 horses, and he
secretly approves the Brides For Indians treaty. He recruits
women from jails, penitentiaries, debtors' prisons, and
mental institutions—offering full pardons or unconditional
release. May Dodd, born to wealth in Chicago in 1850, had
left home in her teens and become the mistress of her
father's grain-elevator foreman. Her outraged father had her
kidnaped, imprisoning her in a monstrous lunatic asylum.
When Grant's offer arrives, she leaps at it and soon finds
herself traveling west with hundreds of white and black
would-be brides. All are indentured to the Cheyenne for two
years, must produce children, and then will have the option
of leaving. May, who keeps the journal we read, marries
Little Wolf and lives in a crowded tipi with his two other
wives, their children, and an old crone who enforces the
rules. Reading about life among the Cheyenne is
spellbinding, especially when the women show up the braves
at arm-wrestling, foot-racing, bow-shooting, and gambling.
Liquor raises its evil head, as it will, and reduces the
braves to savagery. But the women recover, go out on the
winter kill withtheir husbands, and accompany them to a
trading post where they drive hard bargains and stop the
usual cheating of the braves. Eventually, when the cavalry
attacks the Cheyenne, mistakenly thinking they're Crazy
Horse's Sioux, May is killed. |
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Sweet and Low
by Rich Cohen |
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KIRKUS REVIEWS:
How the author's family invented Sweet'N Low, got rich,
collapsed in scandal and set him free by disinheritance. The
first and best section of this haphazard book by Cohen (Machers
and Rockers, 2004, etc.) follows the rise of his
grandfather, Ben Eisenstadt, born in New York in 1906 to
Polish-Jewish immigrant parents. Eisenstadt supplemented his
slow-going law career by opening a diner across from the
Brooklyn Navy Yard. It boomed with the war years, then went
bust, so he opened a factory in which loose tea was packed
into tea bags. Thinking the technique might be adapted to
sugar, he suggested the idea to sugar companies, who thanked
the naive, patent-less inventor and started making the
packets themselves. Only later did Ben and his son Marvin
turn saccharin into Sweet'N Low, the sugar substitute that
would take the world by storm. mob-associated guys who liked
to bill the company for the construction of their mansions.
Cohen's wing of the family was disinherited after a dramatic
and truly ugly fight about a will presided over by Aunt
Gladys, a misanthropic shut-in who wielded frightening
powers via telephone and fax. Cohen can't quite decide what
kind of book he's writing: He offers a mini-history of sugar
here, confusing family history there. But at its best,
sardonically dissecting an unlikely success, it spins gold.
A cracked family saga and an ode to Brooklyn, that incubator
of immigrants and ideas. |
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Thirteenth Tale
by Diane Setterfield |
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KIRKUS REVIEWS:
A dying writer bids a young bookshop assistant to write her
biography. Margaret Lea grew up in a household of mourning,
but she never knew why until the day she opened a box of
papers underneath her parent's bed and found the birth and
death certificates of a twin sister of whom she never knew.
It is the coincidence of twins in the life of Vida Winter,
Britain's most famous writer, that convinces Margaret to
leave her post at her father's rare-books store and travel
to the dying writer's Yorkshire estate. There, she hears a
story no one else knows: who Vida Winter really is. For
decades, the author has wildly fabricated answers to
personal questions in interviews. Now Vida wants to tell the
true story. And what a story it is, replete with madness;
incest; a pair of twins who speak a private language; a
devastating fire; a ghost that opens doors and closes books;
a baby abandoned on a doorstep in the rain; a page torn from
a turn-of-the-century edition of Jane Eyre; a cake-baking
gentle giant; skeletons; topiaries; blind housekeepers; and
suicide. As the master storyteller nears death, Margaret has
yet to understand why she is the one Vida chose to record
her tale. And is it a tall tale? One last great fiction to
leave for her reading public? Only Margaret, who begins to
catch glimpses of her own dead twin in the eternal gloom of
the Winter estate, can sort truth from longing and lies from
guilt. Setterfield has crafted an homage to the romantic
heroines of du Maurier, Collins and the Brontes. But this is
no postmodern revision of the genre. It is a contemporary
gothic tale whose excesses and occasional implausibility
(Vida's "brother" is the least convincing character) can be
forgiven for the thrill of the storytelling. Setterfield's
debut is enchanting Goth for the 21st century. |
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