Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen

When I first read a synopsis of Water for Elephants a few years ago, I thought, “A circus? The depression? Really? That sounds incredibly boring, and I don’t want to read that…” Well, I changed my mind after hearing a couple more years of amazing reviews. And, of course, there’s a movie or something…

(By the way, FRIEND, that link is for Nook. The book is on sale right now. And for less than I paid for my used copy of it!)

My favorite things about the book: Gruen’s suspenseful writing, the setting shifts, the scene in Chicago and the skillful character development.

First of all — her writing. Despite an introduction that really does describe the last scene, I wanted to keep reading. The intro perfectly foreshadowed the ending of the novel without giving anything away. But I probably still would have kept reading if I hadn’t decided to actually read the intro. (Sometimes I don’t — especially when they’re just little intros by the author with blahblahblah about the history of the book since its first publication. Interesting, but not really. And anyway, there was one of these after the book was over and I read that one…)

I really enjoyed how the author switches between Jacob, the main character, then and “now”. Always a good way to structure a book. The straight-up story would’ve been intense. She always pulls back to 90-something year-old Jacob at the perfect time. Well, for me, it was perfect because it was usually when I needed to take a break — but still. She’d build up suspense and then, bam, old Jacob is forgetting his nurse’s name again or bickering with some other old dude at the nursing home. Such a bizarre shift from the fast-paced and dangerous circus-life.

Okay, so there was this Chicago scene. It was pretty cool. And I hate to say this, but it might be one of the parts I’m looking forward to the most in the movie. It’ll be awesome. But anyway, they go to this underground speakeasy. And it just sounds magical. Crazy, but magical. And of course, crap goes down at the speakeasy…

The author is a master of character development. Walter is clearly proof of this. When the reader is first introduced to Walter (who goes by another name at that point) he is a stingy, mean, cold-hearted little man with a big ego and a little dog. By the end of the book Walter becomes an integral part of the plot. Irreplaceable. Plus you like him.

What can I say? This book made me laugh (the antics of an old man in a nursing home with a sense of humour about himself) and cry (just wait until the end). You won’t be able to put it down!

The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien

If it’s not entirely obvious by now, I love historical fiction. The Things They Carried is definitely historical and parts of it are fiction. Other parts, as the author explains throughout the work, are not quite fiction.

Based on real events in the author’s Vietnam war experience, this book describes the every-day life of a soldier and his platoon. The beginning bit of the book literally lists what the soldiers carried — a list that was shocking in itself.

Then, the actual story begins. The author goes through his friends and fellow soldiers, telling stories about their lives and war experiences. He tells about the lieutenant’s  girl at home and how she distracts him until one day his distraction causes a man his life. He talks about a 19-year-old soldier who sends money to bring his high school sweetheart to Vietnam — and she comes.

Then, he tells about his experiences with death and pain — about the times he got shot and when he had to leave his platoon. How he lost friendships. How he should have been going to Harvard instead of the war. How he literally drove to the border with Canada because he didn’t believe in the war, stayed there for a few days with an old motel-owner who said a lot in his silence, but went back home because he couldn’t deal with the shame of hiding from the draft.

If you like history and memoirs…read this book. I learned so much — more about the Vietnam war than I’d ever learned from an actual history book.

The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway

The first book I read by Ernest Hemingway was A Farewell to Arms. Right away I was hooked. I just can’t stop reading him. Or, I don’t want to stop. I’ve already put two more of his books on hold at the library. (Yeah…I did.) I don’t know what it is. By all accounts, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s writing is more descriptive, more provocative, more detailed — things I usually love in writing. But something about Hemingway just…flows.

My favorite character in The Sun Also Rises is Lady Ashley. I wouldn’t exactly call her a heroine. Actually she’s not a heroine at all. She’s more…a bitch. She calls herself that multiple times in the book, but I like her anyway. I admire her because she goes for what she wants, and she isn’t ashamed. Yet, everyone loves her. How could they not? She is British and her name is Brett. So cool, right? And her line, “What rot,” — I hope to some day pull off that phrase in conversation. The main character in the book, an American, even makes an observation that the British can say so much while saying so little. Everything is in the inflection of their voice. Oh, to be British…I’d probably be damn adorable if I were British. (Yes, that is how the narrator in this book talked, too. “It would be damn fine…The sun is damn bright today…This wine is damn good.” Another phrase that is purely inflection, yet I always knew exactly what the characters meant.)

The book starts in postwar Paris where we meet Jake, the narrator, Robert Cohn, and a whole cast of expatriates who have all fallen in love with Lady Ashley. But I wouldn’t call this a love story. It’s more of a drama? Historical fiction? A story about the “Lost Generation” as they call the expatriate writers and “newspapermen” of the day.

The story continues as the cast of characters from Paris take a trip to Pamplona to see the running of the bulls. The fiesta sets a perfect background for the drama that ensues. Even though Hemingway’s descriptions are sparse, I got a feel for what was going on at the fiesta. His focus on dialogue and action was helpful and allowed me to follow the characters and not get caught up in the atmosphere.

In both Paris and Pamplona, much of the conversation took place in cafes; I felt myself longing to sit with a book or magazine and people-watch as I sip a coffee in Paris. Oh, those were the days.

In doing a bit of research, I also learned that The Sun Also Rises is a roman à clef — a term used for a novel using fiction to hide real events. Much of what Hemingway describes actually happened. Somehow that makes me happy. It also makes me feel free, in a way — like, if I really wanted to, I could flee to Spain and enjoy days spent drinking, picnicking and people-watching. And that, in doing so, I would be searching for something authentic: authentic experience. I realize that despite their surface confidence and happiness, all of the characters in this novel were searching for something: love, perhaps friendship, perhaps a break from their normal lives. We all need those things, right? We just have different ways of going about finding them.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

So…honestly…I was expecting more from The Great Gatsby. I know oodles of people who do nothing but rave about it. Maybe it was so built up in my mind that it was inevitable that I’d be disappointed. Or maybe I was expecting too much.

Don’t get me wrong; I enjoyed it. I just would never say it was one of my favorites or anything. And number two on the Modern Library’s List of the Best Novels of the 20th Century? Nah.

Another reason behind my dislike COULD be that I’m just not a fan of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s writing. When I read Tender is the Night, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I should have either. It might have been because I LOVE Ernest Hemingway’s writing style, and being that they are contemporaries and I’ve been reading him at about the same time, I’ve been enjoying the Hemingway books much more. But really, who knows.

Also, I expected more description — more scenes of utter indulgence. When I picture the “roaring twenties,” I see women in flapper dresses and mobsters. It was the Jazz Age. Come on. I see Chicago. Not Long Island.

All that to say, the book wasn’t as great as I expected, but wasn’t bad either.

The general story line of remaking oneself in modern society was interesting. To think that one man from a lowly background could acquire so much wealth with so much anonymity is amazing, and certainly something that would be near impossible to do nowadays.

My favorite thing about the book was that we see all of this from an “outsiders” point of view. The two in the main love affair of the book do not narrate, nor is the narrator omniscient. The reader sees what Nick sees — and that helps with the general mystery — just who is Jay Gatsby? As more is revealed about Nick’s neighbor, the more mysterious he becomes.

The thing that seemed to fit most consistently with the wild idea of the “roaring twenties” was the idea of self-indulgence. The amount of cheating and lying and, well, indulging, was telling. Everyone in the book, even the narrator to some extent, seemed mainly to concern themselves with seeking their own pleasure.

The book ends on a very depressing note. I suppose I shouldn’t reveal exactly what happens, but scandal clearly didn’t get anyone in the book anywhere.

The Innocent by Ian McEwan

I just finished reading The Innocent by Ian McEwan. (I’m linking to Barnes and Noble for these books, by the way, because Miss Recob is probably the only person who would ever be reading this, and she has a Nook.) Anyway, the book was short, but very descriptive and engrossing.

The book begins as a young British man arrives in Cold War Berlin. His assignment is to work with the Americans on a secret project — a project that involves discretion and secrecy. The awkward British conventions of this man add humor to the plot as he doesn’t know how to act around the free-wheeling Americans. Add a beautiful, experienced German woman who makes passes at him during a night out with the boys, and you have (almost) hilarity.

As he settles in, he begins to become accustomed to “real life” in Berlin. He performs his job well. He finds that he can, in fact, carry on a relationship with the beautiful woman, despite her past. In fact, they become engaged.

Things are going great for Mr. Britain-in-Germany, but then the book takes a turn for the worse. Here, the real suspense comes in, and the situation unravels completely. A man is killed. A man is disposed of.  The question is this: What is true innocence, and when is it lost?

This book caused me to think about the way our society views innocence. Who is really innocent? A child? A puppy? Is anyone really innocent? Is innocence a positive or negative quality? What causes one to go from innocent to guilty? Is it one’s own conscience, society or a combination of both? Society clearly plays a major role in the definition of “innocence”.