Despair Has Its Own Calm

The Historian
Elizabeth Kostova
Little Brown

Looking back over the past few entries, I realize that I've been in a tremendous rut. Please accept my sincere apologies for boring you all to death with formulaic, lame and often insipid writing. I can offer no excuses. Hopefully this week's post won't suck. (Read on kids ... pun definitely intended.)

The Historian is an intricate, well-crafted novel that is, on one level, a modern reworking of the Dracula myth. At the beginning of the story, we are introduced to the narrator who, as a young girl, discovered a mysterious vellum-bound book in her father's library . Overcome by curiosity, she approaches her parent and asks about the book's history. At first, her father is reluctant to discuss it -- but she persists and eventually he shares the book's tale. The story is so horrific -- so dangerous, in fact -- that the father can only relate it in bits and pieces and it is over the course of a few years that the narrator learns that the book is tied to a great evil -- Vlad Ţepeş of Wallachia. Vlad, it seems, is still alive and the narrator's father is on a quest to find Dracula and to figure out a way to kill him.

On another level, the novel is really about the idea of history and how cultural, social, political and even religious narratives impact our present and future lives. This novel is rich in historical detail and I learned quite a great deal about both medieval and cold war Eastern Europe. I also received an important lesson in early Western/Islamic relations. Reading The Historian has encouraged me to do some research on the Ottoman Empire, the fall of Constantinople, and the blend of Eastern/Western cultures in Turkey, Bulgaria and Hungary. Any novel that makes you want to read history doesn't suck ... even if it is about Dracula. Four impaled Wallachians out of five.

Summer Reading

The Hollow
Nora Roberts
Jove Books

Way back in high school, one of the best parts about the summer was going up to the cottage with a stack of books. When the weather was cooperative, I would literally spend hours drifting in a floating chair tied to the end our dock. Since I didn't want to ruin any of the books that had made the trip with me, my dad made me a "reading plank" that he affixed to the top of the pontoon arms. Attached to the base of the chair was a mesh bag that would drift alongside me. As a kid, it contained juice boxes and pop, as I got older, it kept beer and bottled water. Sigh. I miss those days.

So, why the stroll down memory lane? Well, I'm not ashamed to admit that a good number of the books that I read in those summers could be classified as trashy romances. In fact, two of my aunts would bring up plastic shopping bags full of Harlequins, Regencies, and Silhouettes to be read by anyone who had the time. Happily, I had a lot of time and I would bounce between Dickens and some torrid romance without giving it a second thought.

While not exactly torrid, Robert's The Hollow is definitely a fine example of a good summer read. It had some sex, a little wistfulness, a bit of intrigue and a happy-ish ending. As a follow up to Blood Brothers (the first novel in the trilogy and previously reviewed on this blog,) I'd say that Roberts' accomplished her main objectives -- she advanced the plot, had another budding romance unfold and not so subtlety foreshadowed the next novel. 2.5 floating chairs out of 5.

Mystery Man

Knots & Crosses
Ian Rankin
Orion Books

When I started this blog, one of my primary objectives was to read outside of my comfort zone. Up until a couple of years ago, I wasn't an adventurous reader. Sure -- I owned all sorts of works that you'd find on a grad school syllabus, but aside from the occasional romance, there was nothing on my shelves that remotely resembled "popular" fiction. In fact, you could say that I was a classic EMBS -- English Major Book Snob. Happily, I'm recovering now, but only because you guys (my friends and some loyal blog readers) have taken me beyond the "fiction" section of the bookstore and encouraged me to read other things.

Knots & Crosses, for example, was recommended to me by my BFF Pete. He's been reading Rankin for quite some time and noted two things that have struck him in particular about the series. The first is that the main character, Detective Sergeant John Rebus is a rumpled, imperfect, complicated, yet wholly likeable guy. Peter actually described him as a "good" man and that's not a term that he uses lightly -- even when talking about a fictional character. The other point of interest is that when you start reading the series from the beginning (Knots & Crosses is set in 1985), Rebus exists in a policing world that is essentially still pre-technology. Curiously, the lack of "modernity" didn't seem to date the story in any way and it was that, more than anything else, that sucked me in. So much so, that I was off to the bookstore this afternoon to buy book number two.

I think Rebus and I are going to become friends before all of this is over. I certainly need someone that I can count on in times of trouble and he seems like just the man to fit the bill. Three point five good guys out of five.