Brains!  Brains!  (I promise this is not a zombie entry)

The Brain the Changes Itself
Norman Doidge
Penguin

Depending on how old you are, you might remember your biology teacher telling you that once you get through early childhood, your brain is pretty done changing and that it is very hard to teach the old dog new tricks.  Well, researchh in the 20th century has disproven this theory and now neuroplasticity, the term for the brain's ability to re-map itself, is its own field of study.

The Brain that Changes Itself is a very consumable read in which Doidge, a researcher and psychiatrist, makes some enthusiastic claims about the capabilities of the human brain.   He describes how stroke victims have managed to remap their brains to perform functions that had formerly been controlled by now "dead" sections of their brains.  He chronicles how researchers have used simple devices to eliminate the pains (and itching!) in phantom limbs.  And most importantly, he tells compelling stories about real people that makes hard-core science into a can't-put-it-down page-turner.  Three point five neruoplasticity tongue twisters out of five.

Moon Walker

The Boy in the Moon:  A Father's Search for his Disabled Son
Ian Brown
Vintage Canada

The Boy in the Moon, a memoir by journalist and broadcaster Ian Brown, tells the story of Brown and his relationship with his son Walker, a severely disabled tween, who cannot talk, cannot thrive without the help of a feeding tube, is still in diapers and who has the intellectual capacity of a toddler.  Walker belongs to an exclusive group -- only three hundred people in the entire world suffer from caridiofaciocutaneous syndrome -- a rare genetic condition that causes its suffers to self-abuse (Walker if left unattended would smash his head to a pulp) and often, but not always traps them and makes them unknowable inside their uncooperative bodies.

I picked this book up because I had heard a interview with the author on CBC radio.  Always charming and articulate, Brown, on whom I will admit to having a slight intellectual crush, told his story without seeming like either a martyr or a cheerleader for the disabled.  Physically caring for Walker sounded like hard business and Brown and his wife, writer Johanna Schneller, shifted their lives to accommodate the demands of their profoundly disabled son.  Trying to find the meaning of Walker's life, sounded like even harder business, and after listening to him speak, I wanted to know how Brown's journey turned.

This is a magnificent book.  It is beautiful and raw and it is so full of love that it makes my heart ache.  Brown speaks so honestly about Walker, about how terrible and terrifying it can be, that the reader can't help but be drawn in.  I am glad that I read this story.  Thank you, Mr. Brown, for sharing Walker with all of us.  Five beautiful boys out of five. 

Cetaceous Sea Slime 

Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters
Jane Austen and Ben H. Winters
Quirk Books

If you cast your minds way back to December, you'll recall that I selected Pride and Prejudice and Zombies at the D-E-S Book of the Year.  As I stated then, it definitely wasn't the best book that I had read in the past season, but it was one that I really, truly enjoyed.  I loved the idea of taking something canonical and adding utter ridiculousness to it.  The fact that it didn't really take away from Austen's story delighted me entirely and when I found out that Quirk was going to come out with another volume in the series, I thought "why the hell not?"

Sadly, Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters is not as well done as its predecessor.   In addition to pillaging Austen, the author borrows from the work of H.G. Wells, introduces elements of the Gothic novel that transforms Austen's mannered romance into something entirely different, and generally injects such an over-the-top weirdness to the novel that  it was, at times, a bit distracting.

Don't get me wrong, the portrayal of Colonel Brandon as a visually abhorrent facially tentacled sea monster is vastly entertaining.  The rampaging narwhals, the man-eating jelly fish and the ever-so-elusive fang beast all make for great, bizarre, fun.  I can't believe I'm going to say this, but SS&SM isn't quite as, uh, subtle as PP&Z.  Yes, I just referred to a book of manners about zombies and ninjas as subtle.  Use that, dear reader, as a guide when deciding to embark on this particular voyage.  Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters gets three giant lobsters out of five.

MizUnderstood

Emma's Table
Philip Galanes
Harper

Imagine my revulsion when, a few pages into the novel, I realized that the author had ripped the "heroine" right out of the headlines. Emma Sutton is a sixty something convicted felon who, having done her time for tax evasion, is trying to get her groove back. The face (although no longer head) of her home design empire, Emma's got a regular spot on Oprah, a line of housewares at Target, and a beautifully decorated apartment with a spectacular view of Central Park. Um, yeah. I must have been having a serious blonde moment when I pulled this one from the table. I mean, really -- do I seem like a Martha Stewart girl to you?

Much to my surprise, this book is actually a winner. While a good portion of the narrative directly relates to Emma and her realization that she needs to change, there are a number of subplots that involve other characters that are equally engaging. By the end of the novel, Galanes masterfully combines all of the storylines into a single climactic scene and contrary to my expectation, not everything gets wrapped up like a parcel under a tree. Galanes characters are all flawed in some way, but every single one of them also has some redemptive qualities that manage to shine through their frailties. At the end of the day, this book was a heart-warming read and not nearly as saccharine as the cover implies. Three frosted cupcakes out of five.

Incredible Hulks

Rapscallion
James McGee
Harper Collins

One of the last "conventional" books that I bought for my dad before he passed away was McGee's Rapscallion. For those of you who have been with me for awhile, you will recognize the author from an earlier post when I reviewed The Resurrectionist. I'll be honest ... the writing hasn't really improved and the characters are no further developed. That's the bad news. The good news is that Rapscallion had both an interesting plot and enough of an historical bent to keep me engaged. I daresay I actually learned something.

Did you know, for example, that during the Napoleonic wars, Britain used hulks (ships that are afloat, but incapable of going to sea) moored on the Thames as prisons? It's true! The living conditions on these ships were abominable and it was not uncommon for the mortality rate aboard the vessels to hover around 30%. It is said that on a warm day, the smell coming off of these ships was enough to pollute the air from bank to bank. Gross.

Unfortunately, while mildly entertaining and somewhat educational, Rapscallion was unable to distract me from missing my dad. In fact, I think it made me miss him more. In the last couple of weeks before he died, we had started to read this one together. It had been a long time since I had read aloud to anyone and we had only gotten a few chapters in before it became too much of an effort for him. Sigh. This one gets one sad and lonely star out of five.

And I don't even like potatoes!

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
Dial Press
Mary Ann Shaffer
Annie Barrows

To Juliet Ashton from DES, March 2nd, 1947

Dearest Juliet,

It was with great interest that I read the latest correspondence between you and the members of the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. I have to say that when you told me you were packing up your flat in London to "investigate" the possibility of writing a book about the Guernsey Occupation, I thought you were a bit mad. We've all been so broken by the events of the last six years that I honestly felt you should just move on to other, less painful things. Your columns during the war were fantastic, of course, and just what we needed to lift our spirits. When you shared the islanders' letters with me, however, I can completely understand what has drawn you to that corner of the world. Their stories are just so poignant. I rush to the mailbox every day to see if you've sent me more letters. I'm hoping you do something lovely for these generous people.

Now, not to switch topics too abruptly, but I was speaking with a mutual friend the other day and he seems quite put out by the fact that you've forsaken him for a "bunch of farmers and old women". In fact, just the other day I saw that viper Beatrice Worthington hanging off his arm at the club. They were getting awfully close if you ask me. He's such a catch, Juliet, are you sure you know what you're doing? You haven't met someone else have you? Surely you'd tell me. You would tell me, wouldn't you?

I must dash. Charles and I are off to see a new play this evening and I have yet to find something to wear. I lost the better part of my wardrobe when our apartment block was bombed and I still haven't persuaded Charles to fund a new one. Sigh. Oh, apparently the show we're seeing is getting rave reviews -- five stars, I heard. I'll tell you more in my next missive.

All my love,

DES

I Need Brains ... In a Good Way

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
Quirk Books
Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith


What do you get when you take a classic piece of English literature and add zombies, Shaolin-trained country misses, and the occasional honour-killing? Well, aside from the fact that it sounds like a perfect script for the next Bruce Campbell project, you get a fantastic read that makes you think about first impressions, class warfare (pun intended) and the topsy-turvy nature of relationships.

I loved this novel! I'm not exactly sure how Grahame-Smith managed to insert both zombies and ninjas into the text and still preserve that early Regency feel, but he did. His grotesque version of this story somehow enhances Austen's original work and his subtle addition of some off-colour humour about balls (um, of the dance variety) actually made me laugh out loud. Four decaying unmentionables out of five.

Three Cheers for the Glad Game!

The Prometheus Deception
Robert Ludlum
St. Martins Press

While it is not my normal practice to use this blog as a forum for complaint (it is, after all, a book review site), let me just say that this last year has been pretty hard on me. My dad got sick, I had a terrible car accident, I was homeless for a couple of months, one of my dearest friends passed away unexpectedly, my aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer, and my dad has gotten sicker and won't be getting better. If you add the everyday crap to the pile (the occasional bad work days, the on again/off again relationship with my best friend and my growing hate for the 401 around Milton) I should be laid out on a couch somewhere undergoing intensive bouts of psychotherapy. But I'm not. And why is that, you ask? It's because I've found my inner Pollyanna and I'm constantly playing the Glad Game.

Take, for example, the subject of this week's post. I started to "read" the Prometheus Deception with my dad when we went for a drive to distract him from the pain. He's to the point in his illness where he can no longer comfortably read a conventional novel, so I picked up an audio book to see if that would do the trick. It did and he has spent lots of happy hours listening to one of his favourite authors. The fact that I became so engaged in this particular story was an added bonus -- see how this Glad Game works?

Now, about the novel ... Nick Bryson is a retired spook who had spent his entire adult life working for an ultra-clandestine organization called the "Directorate". After a significant period of adjustment, he has finally settled into his new life as a university history professor when he is suddenly pulled back into the game. Someone is trying to establish a global, supra-governmental organization that would threaten the privacy and security of civilization as we know it. It is up to Nick to track the shadowy leaders and bring them down. This novel was choc-a-bloc full of dangerous exploits, exotic locales, beautiful women and terrifying men. I was addicted to the story and could hardly wait for Nick to figure it all out. 2.5 action heroes out of 5.

Nick and Nora's Murder and Martinis

The Thin Man
Dashiell Hammett
Knopf Doubleday

Who knew murder could be so glamorous? Taking a break from their business empire, Nick and Nora Charles decide to spend Christmas in New York. Between going to shows, flirting, lounging in speakeasies, and drinking martinis in bed, the two beautiful people manage to find some time to help the police solve the murder of the secretary of one of Nick's former colleagues. Suspects in the case include the colleague's former wife, her new gold-digging husband, their odd children, and the secretary's gangster boyfriend. Yeah -- I know -- it's no wonder that they needed the drinks.

Like the Maltese Falcon, The Thin Man is very sophisticated read. I don't find Hammett's writing quite as hard-boiled as Chandler and in some respects, this novel reads almost like a Restoration comedy of manners. No matter how you look at it, however, Nick and Nora are a couple worth knowing. Three prohibition dodgers out of five.

It's in the genes, baby, it's in the genes.

The Time Traveler's Wife

Audrey Niffenegger

Vintage Canada

I haven't actually been to the bookstore in a couple of months. My TBR queue is a little out of control from the wondrous giftage I received over the holidays and to be honest, I am desperately trying to save money. What the hell was I thinking in becoming a homeowner? The world is a cruel, cruel place when it forces you to choose between blinds for the windows or books for the shelves.

While I'm not exactly sure when I picked up this novel, I can tell you that I found it on the Chapters table of "great reads." From the publisher's blurb on the back, I knew it was the kind of book that I wanted to save for when I needed to lose myself for a little while. My timing, it seems, was perfect because once I started to read this novel, my everyday world faded away and I could think of nothing but the story of Henry and Clare.

Henry, as the book's title suggest, has a genetic disease that causes him to travel backward and forward through time. When he travels, he cannot take anything with him (he arrives naked and nauseous), he cannot "change" history, and he cannot control the length of his stay. What he can do, is visit the the older/younger version of himself. Can you even imagine what it would be like to drop in on yourself as a seven year old? Very cool. What makes the story so compelling is how it is told from both the perspective of Henry as well his wife Clare. Each chapter is time and date stamped with Henry and Clare's "ages" and often, each character narrates a portion of the text. I cannot begin to describe how intricately beautiful this love story is. I can guarantee you, however, that it will become a classic. Five weary travelers out of five.

Postcolonial or Post 9-11?

The Inheritance of Loss
Kiran Desai
Penguin

When I was in grad school, postcolonial criticism was all the rage and as part of a number of courses, I had to read the likes of Said, Spivak and Foucault. While my brain is no longer capable of understanding and/or internalizing such big ideas, some of those lectures must have stuck because as soon as I picked up this novel words such as alternity, hybridity, otherness, imperialism and ethnocentrism immediately came to mind.

And it's true -- the novel, which is set in the foothills of the Indian Himalayas during the 80s, deals with all of these themes and how British and American culture, in particular, have altered the characters' perceptions of themselves. In addition to the collision of cultures, the story also examines the conflict between past versus present desires, the efficacy of terrorism, the gluttony of consumerism, and the cult of the individual. The more I read, the more I wondered if, despite the overt references to other examples of post-colonial literature, the novel was an expression of a post 9-11 sensibility? Is this even a legitimized critical approach? I would think so, but since I've given up academe, I'll have to leave it to the experts.

As for a rating, The Inheritance of Loss won the 2006 Man Booker prize so who am I to give it a score? I can say that it was lyrical, wise, beautiful and sad. In other words, a very good read.

Bloody Awful

The Pagan Stone
Nora Roberts
Jove

Have you ever read a book that is just so terrible that you don't have the words to describe it? Um, er, ah ... oh forget it -- I give up. This book totally sucked.

I have to admit to feeling a little betrayed. Normally I can count on Ms. Roberts to take me away for at least a couple of hours of good clean fun. Her "family-based" romances are usually quite engaging and in the past, I've often found myself wistfully enjoying her unrealistic, yet slightly addictive, version of boy meets girl.

I don't know if it was the combination of romance and poorly-written fantasy that irritated me, or if the goddess of the romance market was just off her game. In any case, do not pick up this book. In fact, give the whole series a miss. It started out on solid footing and with a hundred or so more pages, could have beeen wrapped up beautifully in one tidy (and enjoyable) volume. Minus two pebbles out of five.

Teenage Fangst

Twilight
Stephanie Meyer
MT Books - Little Brown

While I don't normally give into peer pressure, I picked up this book because it has suddenly appeared on the reading lists of many of my friends. The publisher's blurb describes it as a kind of modern day Romeo and Juliet set in the Pacific Northwest. And yes, while it is directed at a young adult audience, it is another book about vampires. I'm sorry -- serious-minded folk should stop reading right now. My next post will have something with substance (and reflection). I promise.

If I'm being generous, I'd say that author takes a conventional, over-used narrative and at least tries to do something interesting. The main characters are Bella and Edward. She's an ethereal beauty who has just moved from the land of sun and energy to a small town in Washington State. He's a 100-year old conscience-plagued vampire, enrolled as a junior in high school since he was only 17 when he was transformed. Of course, they are partners in Biology class and the chemistry is electric. Wait, I mean biology ... oh ... you get the idea. I never really was that interested in science.

Regardless, as much as I would like to share my friends' enthusiasm, the best that I can say is that the book had some genuinely sweet moments. The author is able to channel the roller coaster of emotions of a teen in love and for that, I have to give her at least a little credit. Twilight gets two murky stars out of five.

Knit Lit?

The Friday Night Knitting Club
Kate Jacobs
Berkley

We should probably just file this book under the category "what the hell was I thinking?" and leave it at that. Unfortunately, that wouldn't make for much of an entry, so I guess I will go ahead and give you the gruesome details.

The Friday Night Knitting Club is set in a New York City wool shop where a bunch of eclectic women get together to learn stitches, trade gossip and share the narratives of their lives. The main character is Georgia -- a single mom who is in the not-so-envious position of raising a tween. She is also the shop's proprietor and part of her job is to be the (sometimes reluctant) good friend and sounding board to the women who frequent her establishment. Georgia's life is quite idyllic and it seems like she has it all. That is, of course, until she gets cancer. Georgia ends up dying before the end of the novel but not before all of the other subplots are brought to a happy conclusion. Methinks the author listened to the wrong REM song. This novel needed way more "Everybody Hurts" and way less "Shiny Happy People." One dropped stitch out of five.

Phlegmish Thoughts

The Flanders Panel
Arturo Pérez-Reverte
A Harvest Book / Harcourt, Inc.

Composing this week's blog post has not been an easy task and I've practically worn out the delete key with all the false starts. The problem is that I don't know how to discuss this book in a way that would make sense to someone who hasn't read it. The basic premise is as follows: Julia, an art restorer living in Madrid, has been asked to work on a 15th century Flemish painting so that the owner can put it up for auction. While she is restoring the work, she discovers an inscription that the painter had hidden under an additional layer of paint. Figuring out the meaning of the inscription would add significantly to the value of the painting and Julia decides to solve the mystery contained within the panel.

Halfway through the novel, Julia solves the riddle and structurally, I think this is where the book starts to fall apart. You see, while Julia has been trying to figure out the whodunit in the panel, a couple of her art-world colleagues are murdered. We are meant to think that these present-day murders are somehow linked to the murder mystery referred to in the painting, but even to a non-discerning reader, it's too big of a stretch. In fact, while the last half of the book is beautifully written and is packed full of allusions to great literary works, fascinating chess moves, and some interesting philosophical discussions, it fails because the plot just doesn't make sense.

I desperately wanted this book to be better than it was and if I'm honest, I have to admit that sections of the novel were absolutely brilliant. Sadly, though, I guess the old saying isn't always true -- the whole isn't always greater than the sum of its parts. Two beguiling rooks out of five.

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.

What a Dick!

The Lady in the Lake

Raymond Chandler

Vintage Crime

How is it that, until quite recently, I was probably the only person on the planet who'd never heard of Raymond Chandler? Oh ... so that's not ringing any bells for you either? Forget Chandler, then, what if I said Philip Marlowe? That's right, movie buffs, I've finally been introduced the literary version of one of the greatest detectives of all time.

According to my friend Russ, The Lady in the Lake is not a terribly good novel. In fact, he had actually recommended another of Chandler's works, but the book shop in Ottawa didn't have it in stock. As it turns out, I'm quite glad because I actually loved this story. The plot is dead (pun intended) simple -- two wives go missing from a remote cabin nestled in the mountains outside of LA. One of them (Marlowe's not sure which one) is discovered at the bottom of a lake. Was it murder? Suicide? A tragic accident? Marlowe doesn't really care -- he's paid to ask questions and solve cases and that's where his interest ends.

What I liked best about this novel had to be how it was told. As I was reading, the voice in my head sounded very much like a radio drama -- lots of dialogue, short, descriptive sentences and just the right amount of mood. I could "hear" Marlowe speaking -- it was almost as if I was looking out at the world through his eyes and hearing his voice from inside his head. Sublime. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I'll definitely be coming back to Chandler over the course of the next few months. The Lady, in this case, is definitely a ten.