After I read Body Surfing, I developed a certain idea about Anita Shreve's writing. Intriguing and passionate. The second book I read, however, reached up to expectations only in bits and pieces. Expectations formed based on the earlier book by the same author as well as reviews of this one.
This one is also set in New England (which makes it easier for me to relate to it all), but not in the present day (which makes it more difficult for me to relate to it all). It takes us back to the late 1800s- early 1900s. It is set in a small academic town, with the main character being a college Professor. It revolves around the two things he wants most - to marry the girl he is attracted to, and to be promoted to the post of Dean of the college. He does eventually get both of these things, after some struggle, but each is a bit of a compromise that fails to make him as happy as he had hoped to be.
The most interesting part about this book is that it is written by a female author but narrated in the first person from the point of view of a man. When I started the book, I thought this might lead to a slightly odd narrative, but it was perfectly natural, and a few pages into the book I forgot about this little tidbit of information. There are only a few scattered episodes in the story, however, that generate the kind of intrigue and passion I was hoping to find in this book. The rest of it is fairly mundane and everyday. Towards the end of the book, however, Shreve does manage to generate enough interest to keep the pages turning fast and to keep me from falling asleep on the train ride home after a long day at work. All in all, it was only okay and I would perhaps have had regrets about buying this book if I hadn't bought it dirt cheap at a yard sale.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Traveling With Pomegranates: A Mother-Daughter Story
When I read The Secret Life of Bees, I did not know that its author, Sue Monk Kidd, was someone better known for nonfiction and that this was her first attempt at fiction. I found that out later. This is one of her nonfiction works, in collaboration with her daughter, Ann Kidd Taylor.
This is a memoir of the mother-daughter pair's travels spanning Greece, France and Turkey. Sue, at that point, was trying to conceive her first novel (The Secret Life of Bees) and also going through a number of other changes in her life, including menopause. Ann was trying to figure out what to do with her life, trying to sort out her passion for Greek history and for writing.
This is Ann's first book, but Sue was a well-known writer with a number of bestsellers to her credit at the time of writing this. Yet she was unclear and unsure about writing fiction for the first time. Ann had someone like Sue for a mother, who would obviously know a lot about writing and would know lots of people in the publishing industry, but was still unsure of whether or not she could write.
The narrative shows a very human, very delicate side of both the authors. It gives you an insight into how even well known, accomplished people can be less than completely confident about things rather closely related to their area of specialization. It makes you feel that you are not alone in being uncertain about whether or not you can accomplish everything you want to.
The mother-daughter relationship is very beautifully described in the book as well. Sue doesn't want to push Ann into being a writer, even though she believes that her daughter does have the talent. She wants Ann to discover, on her own, her talent and her willingness to write. Ann, on the other hand, doesn't want to be her mother's shadow, she wants to be her own person and she wants to be different from her mother.
It's a great book for mothers and daughters all over the world.
This is a memoir of the mother-daughter pair's travels spanning Greece, France and Turkey. Sue, at that point, was trying to conceive her first novel (The Secret Life of Bees) and also going through a number of other changes in her life, including menopause. Ann was trying to figure out what to do with her life, trying to sort out her passion for Greek history and for writing.
This is Ann's first book, but Sue was a well-known writer with a number of bestsellers to her credit at the time of writing this. Yet she was unclear and unsure about writing fiction for the first time. Ann had someone like Sue for a mother, who would obviously know a lot about writing and would know lots of people in the publishing industry, but was still unsure of whether or not she could write.
The narrative shows a very human, very delicate side of both the authors. It gives you an insight into how even well known, accomplished people can be less than completely confident about things rather closely related to their area of specialization. It makes you feel that you are not alone in being uncertain about whether or not you can accomplish everything you want to.
The mother-daughter relationship is very beautifully described in the book as well. Sue doesn't want to push Ann into being a writer, even though she believes that her daughter does have the talent. She wants Ann to discover, on her own, her talent and her willingness to write. Ann, on the other hand, doesn't want to be her mother's shadow, she wants to be her own person and she wants to be different from her mother.
It's a great book for mothers and daughters all over the world.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Of Crushes and Dreams
Remember when you were a teenager and had a crush on the cute guy (or girl) and your world was suddenly centered around that one person? Remember how you thought that it was the truest of true love and that nothing would ever make that love wane? But then, slowly but surely, it did wane. The next time you had a crush on someone, you would think that the last one was just a silly crush, but this time, it's for real.
I was just thinking about the number of times I thought that way. I cannot clearly remember the faces of most of those guys. There were a few on whom I didn't just have a crush, but felt something stronger based on a solid foundation of friendship, and those are the only ones I really remember. But, at that time, it was very hard to say which ones I would remember and which ones I would think back to and laugh at how silly it all seems now.
(Don't get me wrong, I'm happily married, but I do still remember some very good friends for whom I once had feelings. Because those are memories of experiences that have been happy and sad and confusing and have taught me a little bit more about myself and what I actually need in the person I eventually end up with. They all got me one step closer to being able to choose the right kind of guy to settle down with.)
Now think about other kinds of dreams that you had or still have. Maybe you dreamed of being on TV. Flying a plane. Opening your own restaurant. Some of that stuff seems silly now, and some of it, you had to give up because you weren't quite as good at it as you first thought you were. Some of it, you may still be thinking about and may not be completely sure yet. But, once again, you can't quite tell when you're dreaming a dream if it's the one that's quite right for you or if it's one that you'll be laughing to yourself about a few months later. How do you tell them apart?
The only way to be able to tell is to actually go ahead and give it a serious shot. Not once, not twice, but as many times as it takes for you to be completely convinced. This way or that. If this is what you're looking for or if it's just a passing fling. That's the only way to actually find your calling, to be where your heart is.
I was just thinking about the number of times I thought that way. I cannot clearly remember the faces of most of those guys. There were a few on whom I didn't just have a crush, but felt something stronger based on a solid foundation of friendship, and those are the only ones I really remember. But, at that time, it was very hard to say which ones I would remember and which ones I would think back to and laugh at how silly it all seems now.
(Don't get me wrong, I'm happily married, but I do still remember some very good friends for whom I once had feelings. Because those are memories of experiences that have been happy and sad and confusing and have taught me a little bit more about myself and what I actually need in the person I eventually end up with. They all got me one step closer to being able to choose the right kind of guy to settle down with.)
Now think about other kinds of dreams that you had or still have. Maybe you dreamed of being on TV. Flying a plane. Opening your own restaurant. Some of that stuff seems silly now, and some of it, you had to give up because you weren't quite as good at it as you first thought you were. Some of it, you may still be thinking about and may not be completely sure yet. But, once again, you can't quite tell when you're dreaming a dream if it's the one that's quite right for you or if it's one that you'll be laughing to yourself about a few months later. How do you tell them apart?
The only way to be able to tell is to actually go ahead and give it a serious shot. Not once, not twice, but as many times as it takes for you to be completely convinced. This way or that. If this is what you're looking for or if it's just a passing fling. That's the only way to actually find your calling, to be where your heart is.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Winter Blues
I remember the time when I went to Manali with my friends from the office about two years ago. There was a day of travelling to Solang Valley in rain and snow. It was a lot of fun, but it was certainly really cold. Later that evening, I had a little bit of rum to warm myself up.
It's been a crazy winter which makes me think of that rum just about every other day. I arrive at work chilled to the bone, although I've been out in the open only for about ten minutes - that's how long it takes me to walk from the train station to the office. But a significant portion of those ten minutes is spent in an area that's not shielded by buildings on either side. It is actually right where the Charles river meets the sea. So it's open to sea breeze. Breeze is actually a very mild term for winds gusting up to 40mph on an average day, and even 80 mph on a bad day. I have seen the river freeze over in other areas, but even in mid-January, this part wasn't frozen and I figured it wouldn't freeze because it was so close to the sea. But it did. It froze, then thawed, then froze again, and thawed again. The parts of the river farther from the sea, however, stay frozen and accumulate snow and you cannot tell where the river bank ends and the river begins.
I grew up in a place where daytime temperatures hardly ever, if at all, went below 10 C. Out here, if the temperature begins to approach that figure, the weather service announces that we're going to have "mild" weather and people ditch their jackets. Even I felt like doing that this evening, but discovered that it was more comfortable to wear the jacket without zipping up the front than it was to carry it. I actually saw a guy standing right next to the river wearing shorts.
Every four or five days for the last six or so weeks, the weather service has issued a winter storm warning and predicted eighteen or so inches of snow in our area. Pretty accurate predictions most of the time. At one point, I was sure that if we had a little bit more snow, I wouldn't be able to see out of my windows. The snow on the ground had come just a little higher than the window sill and the icicles hanging from the roof had come down as low as the window sill.
But it's not the crazy amounts of snow that really bothers me, though this winter has seen really crazy amounts of snow even by New England standards and people who have lived here a long time are also rather tired of it now. What I find difficult to get used to is the variation in temperature we see from day to day. One day, we have a high of 23 F. The next day, we have a low of 33 F. And the third day is a high of 17. It's crazy. You have to check the weather just about every day to really know how many layers to wear.
But I am relieved to see almost two weeks pass by without any major snowfall, and quite some snow melting. The sidewalks in the city are almost completely clear now. Our driveway is almost dry, though there is still over a foot of snow in the yard. A foot of highly compressed, very heavy snow. But it's slowly melting. And spring is on its way. Fingers crossed.
It's been a crazy winter which makes me think of that rum just about every other day. I arrive at work chilled to the bone, although I've been out in the open only for about ten minutes - that's how long it takes me to walk from the train station to the office. But a significant portion of those ten minutes is spent in an area that's not shielded by buildings on either side. It is actually right where the Charles river meets the sea. So it's open to sea breeze. Breeze is actually a very mild term for winds gusting up to 40mph on an average day, and even 80 mph on a bad day. I have seen the river freeze over in other areas, but even in mid-January, this part wasn't frozen and I figured it wouldn't freeze because it was so close to the sea. But it did. It froze, then thawed, then froze again, and thawed again. The parts of the river farther from the sea, however, stay frozen and accumulate snow and you cannot tell where the river bank ends and the river begins.
I grew up in a place where daytime temperatures hardly ever, if at all, went below 10 C. Out here, if the temperature begins to approach that figure, the weather service announces that we're going to have "mild" weather and people ditch their jackets. Even I felt like doing that this evening, but discovered that it was more comfortable to wear the jacket without zipping up the front than it was to carry it. I actually saw a guy standing right next to the river wearing shorts.
Every four or five days for the last six or so weeks, the weather service has issued a winter storm warning and predicted eighteen or so inches of snow in our area. Pretty accurate predictions most of the time. At one point, I was sure that if we had a little bit more snow, I wouldn't be able to see out of my windows. The snow on the ground had come just a little higher than the window sill and the icicles hanging from the roof had come down as low as the window sill.
But it's not the crazy amounts of snow that really bothers me, though this winter has seen really crazy amounts of snow even by New England standards and people who have lived here a long time are also rather tired of it now. What I find difficult to get used to is the variation in temperature we see from day to day. One day, we have a high of 23 F. The next day, we have a low of 33 F. And the third day is a high of 17. It's crazy. You have to check the weather just about every day to really know how many layers to wear.
But I am relieved to see almost two weeks pass by without any major snowfall, and quite some snow melting. The sidewalks in the city are almost completely clear now. Our driveway is almost dry, though there is still over a foot of snow in the yard. A foot of highly compressed, very heavy snow. But it's slowly melting. And spring is on its way. Fingers crossed.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
If Tomorrow Comes
This book by Sidney Sheldon is another one I'd been meaning to read for a while, but just did not get around to it. Actually, I'd always meant to try out at least one of Sheldon's books and never actually got to it. This was a recommendation from some friends for a good book to start with.
This book is not like anything I've ever read before. I'm told that Sheldon's books are rather similar to each other in many ways, though, but I've never read any of those.
The main character, Tracy Whitney, is a woman wronged by a lot of people and determined to get even with them. Her initial attempt at revenge against the person responsible for her mother's death lands her in even deeper trouble and ignites within her an even stronger desire to retaliate. And retaliate she does. From then on, everything she does is well thought out and carefully planned. She leaves nothing to chance and no reasons for anyone to suspect that it was her doing.
There are certainly other, fairly interesting, characters in the story who do leave a mark on the reader, but none quite as impressive as Tracy herself. A very intriguing heroine who keeps the reader wondering about her next escapade. A brilliantly crafted plot, or series of plots, makes this book an engaging and difficult to put down read. It definitely takes an extremely intelligent mind to come up with something like this, to create a character who never fails to impress or surprise. She's someone who crosses over to the wrong side of the law, but still has you rooting for her and cheering her on because she is so real, so much a person you can relate to even though you may never have done anything like what she does, or thought about doing anything like it.
This book is not like anything I've ever read before. I'm told that Sheldon's books are rather similar to each other in many ways, though, but I've never read any of those.
The main character, Tracy Whitney, is a woman wronged by a lot of people and determined to get even with them. Her initial attempt at revenge against the person responsible for her mother's death lands her in even deeper trouble and ignites within her an even stronger desire to retaliate. And retaliate she does. From then on, everything she does is well thought out and carefully planned. She leaves nothing to chance and no reasons for anyone to suspect that it was her doing.
There are certainly other, fairly interesting, characters in the story who do leave a mark on the reader, but none quite as impressive as Tracy herself. A very intriguing heroine who keeps the reader wondering about her next escapade. A brilliantly crafted plot, or series of plots, makes this book an engaging and difficult to put down read. It definitely takes an extremely intelligent mind to come up with something like this, to create a character who never fails to impress or surprise. She's someone who crosses over to the wrong side of the law, but still has you rooting for her and cheering her on because she is so real, so much a person you can relate to even though you may never have done anything like what she does, or thought about doing anything like it.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
"Letter To My Daughter" by Maya Angelou
This is one of the shorter books I've read in recent times. It is a collections of essays, with a little bit of poetry thrown in, describing life's lessons and experiences through the eyes of a strong, independent African-American woman. (You can read more about her on her website. There's a lot to say about her and I can't say all of it here.)
The author never actually had a daughter, she has just one son. But she sees women all over the world, women of different cultures and races, as her daughters to whom she can pass on her experience and wisdom.
The book, though short, is packed with insights and interesting incidents, often occurring during her travels, which took her far and wide. She talks about respecting other cultures and respecting people who are different from yourself while being straightforward with people who do not deserve your respect.
The book gives the reader a certain amount of insight into a vibrant life of courage and strong will, of refusing to accept things as they are and trying to be your own person and shaping your own destiny. You may not be able to relate to her, because she is a rather unique person, but you can definitely appreciate and respect her and her writing.
Maya Angelou is an inspiration to people, especially women, of all ages and all countries. This book definitely makes a worthwhile read.
The author never actually had a daughter, she has just one son. But she sees women all over the world, women of different cultures and races, as her daughters to whom she can pass on her experience and wisdom.
The book, though short, is packed with insights and interesting incidents, often occurring during her travels, which took her far and wide. She talks about respecting other cultures and respecting people who are different from yourself while being straightforward with people who do not deserve your respect.
The book gives the reader a certain amount of insight into a vibrant life of courage and strong will, of refusing to accept things as they are and trying to be your own person and shaping your own destiny. You may not be able to relate to her, because she is a rather unique person, but you can definitely appreciate and respect her and her writing.
Maya Angelou is an inspiration to people, especially women, of all ages and all countries. This book definitely makes a worthwhile read.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Of Commutes and Commuting
It has been a long while since I used public transport for my daily commute. Now, when my office moved away from the suburbs into the heart of the city, I am doing just that after almost five years. I am no longer used to it and I worry about forgetting something on the train. I am also not extremely pleased with the idea of being tied down by the train schedule. But it beat driving on the expressway during peak commuting hours any day. Plus, when I settle down with a good book on my way back, I find that I am already quite relaxed by the time I get home. On the other hand, when I was sitting in traffic, sometimes for over two hours, during my commute from work in Delhi, I would get home exhausted. There is no way I could have found the energy to cook dinner in the evening after that kind of thing.
But here's what I totally dislike about this commute. That I have to do it alone. In Delhi, I always had friends living close by whom I could carpool with. People I could talk to on the way. Or maybe not talk (I'm not much of a talker, and there were days when I didn't feel like it at all.), but just look at the familiar, friendly faces. I miss some of those people a lot. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.
But here's what I totally dislike about this commute. That I have to do it alone. In Delhi, I always had friends living close by whom I could carpool with. People I could talk to on the way. Or maybe not talk (I'm not much of a talker, and there were days when I didn't feel like it at all.), but just look at the familiar, friendly faces. I miss some of those people a lot. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.
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