There is nothing earth-shattering or new in the plot of this book about a circumstance-tossed but resilient girl growing up in Nazi Germany. The story, and her new life with foster parents, starts with tragedy, proceeds through terror and desperation piled on top of typical growing pains, and winds up with more tragedy cloaked in “what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.” It’s a harrowing tale, but also a heartwarming one, as we meet the people who shape Liesel’s life: her accordion-playing stepfather, her foulmouthed stepmother, her best friend, the Jew in the basement, the mayor’s miserable wife, and … Death, who is the narrator of this story. Yes, some readers have claimed this is gimmicky, but I found it worked completely. In this case, it’s a creative and fitting alternative the third-person unknown narrator. And who could serve as a better omniscient storyteller during the Holocaust than Death?

I started out by saying there is nothing earth-shattering about the plot. But there are so many other reasons for story-lovers to read this tale. The characters will become friends and neighbors just as they are to Liesel, the colors will sing to you, the sky will appear in all its grayness, and you will feel the frigid water of the river on your skin. With writing is so vivid and transformative, this is one of the few books I’ve read in which I can say that the writer’s craft transcends and truly uplifts the story. For someone who reads constantly and writes for a living, it’s rare and wonderful to find a voice with new ways of painting with words. I can’t wait to read more from Zusak.

It’s no secret that I adore this series. Alleyn has done a masterfully creative job of integrating a well-paced series of intricate mysteries into the politically vibrant and sensually dismal period of post-Revolution Paris. You can see, smell, and taste the teeming streets and cloying chambers as brooding pseudo-detective Aristide Ravel makes his way through suspects and informants, burdened with such oppressive baggage of his own that we sometimes wonder if he’ll wind up on the other side of the law. (I love a good antihero with a heart of gold.)

The reason I didn’t give this book the full five stars lies in the lack of development of one important relationship, that of Ravel and his longtime friend, Mathieu Alexandre. Having read the books out of chronological order (the way they were published—oh, that’s so wrong!), I knew that Mathieu, especially within the period of events that takes place in this book, would become part of Ravel’s ever-growing burden of guilt, shame, and regrets, and I looked forward to seeing their relationship in action. I was disappointed. They could have been casual acquaintances.

Other than that, this book, like the others, did not disappoint. It provided the wonderful twists and turns that I fell in love with while reading the rest of the series.

Now, I am sad. I have no more Ravel mysteries to read.

To anyone who plans to read the series, I recommend devouring them in chronological order, and so does the author. Here they are, from Susanne Alleyn’s wonderful website:

Aristide Ravel Mysteries:

As I said, I read them as they were published, which means in the following order: 3, 4, 1, 2. Go figure. It did not matter so much in the end; I had Ravel’s every move memorized, so I could easily fit the puzzle pieces together. But I plan to reread the books in order in the future.

Mystery and history buffs everywhere, you’ll enjoy these novels immensely! And then you can join me in the fervent hope that we’ll all see Aristide Ravel again soon.

Christine wakes up each morning not knowing who is she, where she is, or when she is … some trauma has impeded her ability to make and keep memories. But then the mysterious stranger lying next to her explains he’s her husband, and he shows her pictures, and he walks her through the house that she comes to understand is her home — at least for that day, until she sleeps again.

In the course of each day, Christine finds out more and more about herself. She has been seeing a doctor. He calls to remind her that she’s been keeping a journal.  She reads it and finds out what has been happening and what she has discovered.  And soon, she unravels some unsettling ideas.  Besides that, she’s having flashes of memory.  And they don’t seem to coincide with some things she’s being told. Can she figure it out and write it all down before she goes to sleep?

Despite some dissatisfaction voiced in the reviews of others — that there were plot holes (there were a few) and that the outcome was predicted long before the reveal — I really enjoyed reading this book, and that’s why I read for leisure: to enjoy! The pace was excellent, the writing crisp, and the characters interesting enough to keep me on the edge of my seat. Like others, I guessed early on that some people were not really who they said they were … but I suspended my disbelief and got a payoff with the “Hollywood thriller” ending (which I know some did not like either — but you know I’m a movie girl, so it worked for me). Definitely glad I read it!

View all my reviews

4 1/2 stars.

Laura Hillenbrand (author of Seabiscuit) tells the spellbinding story of the life of Louis Zamperini, from his days as a feral, street-wise youth, to his success as an Olympic runner, to his harrowing experiences in the Pacific Theater during World War II, and finally to his coping in the aftermath of returning home.

I typically read fiction for pleasure, and much nonfiction feels stilted and unmoving to me. But there were times in this incredible story when I was on the edge of my seat. Hillenbrand did a commendable job of conveying the epic adventure of Zamperini’s life along with an amazing array of facts, statistics, and little-know tidbits about the period.

The reason I did not give the book a full five stars is a small complaint that I’ve read from other reviewers: Some of the amazing revelations are glossed over a bit. A few nearly unbelievable facts are not really explained or expounded on to the level they seem to deserve. Some might say that this is due to the author not wanting to intercede in offering merely what happened, and not why or what it’s significance was. But this isn’t the case; she explains many things throughout the book for readers’ greater understanding, but then leaves others hanging in midair.

Despite this one nagging little issue, the book is overwhelmingly worth reading. In fact, everyone should read it (or another book like it); it brings home to the heart what some have had to suffer, makes one think hard and long about what we take for granted and how we treat others, and provides a shining example of mind-over-matter attitude — in the end, Zamperini and others around him survived their ordeals due to their deep senses of self-worth, optimism, and dignity. And, Louis would add, the grace of God. It’s a true-life lesson for EVERYONE!

Another wonderful installment in the Aristide Ravel canon!

(Actually, if you are about to begin the series, start with this book, which introduces Ravel and his relationship with the police that figures prominently in the rest of the series.)

CAVALIER offers an intriguing mystery with a satisfying ending, all set against the historic backdrop of unsettled times in pre-revolution France. I was so engrossed that it was quite an unhappy day when I finished this volume.

In this book, which spans several weeks in the life of our brooding, cursed, but talented hero, we meet Ravel and learn about his past and why he is currently a penniless (er, centime-less) scribbler living in the odorous abattoir district of Paris. We also meet his soon-to-be colleague, Inspector Brasseur, and learn what makes him tick as well (which would have been nice to know as I read the other two books I’ve finished so far in the series, thanks to what the author says was her publisher’s insistence that they be published in the wrong order … go figure).

Soon we find the unlikely pair investigating — and Ravel getting tangled in — a series of strange occurrences that seem to be tied to the Masonic order.  A murder, plus the disappearance of both the cadaver and a connected gentlemen, make for a mystery more mysterious and harder to unravel than most.  An especially juicy addition is a visit with an actual historical figure who advanced medical science in a strange and macabre fashion.  There’s even a subplot more personal to Ravel that shows the haunting nature of the predicament in which his family history has left him. Overall, highly satisfying.

One more Ravel book to go — I almost do not want to start it because I don’t want it to end too soon — and then dear Ms. Alleyn will need to write some more!

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The Pleasant Surprises

Ceremony (2010) is a peculiar glimpse into some pretty screwed-up lives, yet it leaves one feeling an odd sense of lightness and hope. Michael Angarano plays Sam, a pitiably adorable romantic and failing writer of bizarre children’s stories, who crashes the wedding weekend of a woman he once spent the night with. Most of the characters are pathetic in one way or another, but they curiously grow on you. Even the self-absorbed fiancé (Lee Pace) has a patient strength barely visible under his primping bravado but evident in the moments when he takes care of his flaky Zoe (Uma Thurman). It’s one of those films that you will either love or hate—and be aware that it begins rather slowly—but if you do give it a chance, you might find some pleasant surprises too.

Much to the credit of writer/director Max Winkler (son of Henry Winkler), the characters are not wrapped up in neat little packages, and I found myself wishing this film were a book adaptation so I could read the book and find out more about each of them. I wanted to know what had happened to Marshall (Reece Thompson) and why Zoe’s brother Teddy (Jake M. Johnson) was such a mess, though she loved him so fiercely despite that. I wanted to know their thoughts and their plans. They were real.  Ceremony is not for everyone, but if you like Feeling Minnesota (1996) or Wes Anderson’s films, you may be charmed by this one. I was.

B

Suck (2009) is a rock-musical-vampire-movie, written and directed by Canadian actor/director Rob Stefaniuk. He also stars along with Jessica Paré, Paul Anthony, and Mike Lobel, as a member of the band, the Winners (tongue firmly in cheek), who are barely making ends meet with their back-alley gigs while sleeping in their transportation—a hearse. Their ineffective manager (Dave Foley) says himself that they ought to fire him. And then, along comes a vampire and changes their lives. Now they are getting really popular, and all they have to worry about is Eddie Van Helsing *cough* (Malcolm McDowell) hunting them down. The bewildering cast also includes Alice Cooper, Iggy Pop, Henry Rollins, and Alex Lifeson. I also really got as kick out of the effects surrounding the band’s travels through Canada and New York.  Fun to watch!

B+

The Disappointments

The Help (2011) could have been so much better, given the talent involved, so I personally found it sad that it reminded me of another disappointing “movie of the week,” The Blind Side (also a movie that many others loved). How can I say this? I certainly will receive hate mail. Most people adore The Help. It seems unassailable, since it’s hard to say anything against a story depicting the triumph of the help’s quiet dignity over the malicious ignorance of pre-civil-rights-era bigots. *sigh*

That’s not the point—let’s look at it as a film.  It is not bad.  In fact, it’s mostly enjoyable, with wonderful performances. Leading the pack of talent are Viola Davis (as Aibileen Clark), Jessica Chastain (Celia Foote), and Bryce Dallas Howard (Hilly Holbrook); Emma Stone (Skeeter Phelan) is adorable and competent as always.

Where my problem lies with this film is that it’s a formulaic, gasp-a-minute tear-fest that glosses over any true character development and plays to the audience’s sense of “this is the good fight, so you must cheer,” even though the story is not even a true one.  Some of my fellow viewers pointed out, “But things LIKE this did happen. It’s based on stories from that era.” For my money, I would rather watch true reminiscences (and there are so many real stories out there) than musings that milk the sorrows and struggles of the period.

Those who had read the book also told me, “Well, the characters are better developed in the book.”  What?!  Whoever made a rule that when a film adaptation is made, the characters cannot be as rich or round as they are meant to be?  Plenty of films, including adaptations, present rich and realistic characters.  Stop using that excuse!  There is, for instance, no reason in the world that Skeeter’s mother (played by the wonderful Allison Janney, who was just wasted here) had to come off as an unintelligible psycho. Yes, I get the fact that she was both ill and bound by the mores of the day; that doesn’t mean she has multiple personalities, making her unrealistic as a character.

This film could have been so much more powerful had it been slightly more subtle and, of course, focused on character development—after all, what is more important in a film about the human spirit? As it was, the movie accomplished something that few have in the past: it made NOT want to read the book.

B-

Dylan Dog: Dead of Night (2010) is the worst comic-adapted-to-film I’ve seen since The Mutant Chronicles. I wish people would stop making putrid flops like this; that trend should have gone out with big shoulder pads.

I’ll watch just about anything supernatural or based on comic books, but it seems the moviemakers here simply wanted to cash in on moviegoers’ current love affair with vampires, werewolves, and all things alluringly monstrous. Speaking of which, Brandon Routh, bless his heart, may be eye candy, but he can’t act his way out of a paper bag. Even one of my faves, Peter Storemare, could not shine in this mess.

The only saving grace was Sam Huntington (Fanboys) as the sidekick, playing second fiddle to Routh again, as he did in Superman Returns. Unfortunately, even his amusing delivery can’t fix the awful writing.

D

Here are a few other films I watched over the past couple of weeks:

What I do know if terrific writing and the most helpful advice for nearly every situation—communication. My friend Kindred Howard’s book, Cavemen in Babyland, is filled not only with sage advice but also with humor and observant anecdotes from his own family experiences.

The underlying message is about strength and open communication between mom and dad, the two-headed cornerstone of a family. It’s about remembering that mommy and daddy love each other and that “baby time” is not all they will ever know again in their lives. It’s about understanding that men and women, even those in the closest relationship possible, won’t always see eye to eye … forget the Mars and Venus thing; it’s because men are cavemen. (I see many women out there nodding their heads.)

Even someone who doesn’t have kids, doesn’t plan on having any in the foreseeable future, or had them so long ago it seems like another lifetime, will find this book entertaining and insightful to read. It’s like a two-hundred-page stand-up routine about preparing to have kids, going through the process of their arrival, and then dealing with them being in your life. But it’s a routine filled with valuable lessons from the trenches.

And Kindred has been in those trenches—he and his lovely wife, Meredith, have five (yes, five) children.

Excerpt: Undiapered babies aren’t like trained marksmen aiming to take out a carefully selected target. No, they’re more like green berets with orders to wipe out an entire enemy camp. “Poop on ’em all and let God sort ’em out!” A first-time dad is a sitting duck. It takes time to master the art of the quick diaper change. Sure, he did all right on that doll in parenting class. But that doll didn’t flail, scream, and kick the petroleum jelly out of his hand every time he tried to gift-wrap its loins.

There’s shifting in the Movieverse of Zu.  I finally got me a wi-fi enabled blu-ray player, which I adore. It streams Netflix, Amazon, CinemaNow, and more. And now come the decisions.

The first is the pending decision about whether to continue subscribing to Netflix. As many will have heard, Netflix, the haven of watchers of unusual, classic, cult, foreign, and documentary films, has announced a change on September 1 that basically raises prices and changes services in a way that makes it tough for some of us to decide what to do. For example, I currently subscribe to getting two DVDs at home at a time plus unlimited streaming, which runs $14.99 plus assorted taxes. The new price for this plan is $19.98.  That’s an increase of over 30 percent!  So, now I have to decide whether to go with JUST streaming for $7.99 (seriously cutting down on the selection available to me and thereby negating one of the main resons I signed on with Netflix in the first place) or streaming plus one DVD at home for $15.98 – still an increase in price over my current plan and a decrease in DVDs.  A third alternative, of course, is to scrap Netflix altogether for this bungling of plans and rely on the new options available to me.

Decisions, decisions.

And now, back to movies. I’ve been working like a madwoman the past few weeks – er, months, actually – so I needed something to give myself as a reward and help me relax with at least a couple of hours of leisure each weekend.  So, what better reward for the Movie Freak than to go see a movie at the theater?  So far, so good.  I love it when a plan comes together.

Here are the recent highlights. These are, by necessity of limited time, very brief reviews, but I had to take these first three out of the report card table, if only so I could include the gratuitous eye candy.

Captain America: The First Avenger

A

First Avenger, hellz yeah! (Yes, it’s true … I am a comic-adapted-to-film nerd.)

Drumroll please, my latest heartthrob is Chris Evans (always liked him — in Fantastic Four, The Losers, Push, Cellular, and Scott Pilgrim — like him even more now). Among the excellent cast, Tommy Lee Jones steals every scene he’s in, IMO. And Hugo Weaving is appropriately menacing as Red Skull.

The story provides well-paced background about the first Avenger, and the final post-credits scene makes Marvel geeks everywhere salivate for May 2012.

The film does an excellent job of immersing viewers in the WWII era and introducing the Captain from his humble beginnings. Though I’m not super-excited about CGI in live-action films, the talent behind the film did an amazing body-shrinking job to make pre-serum Steve Rogers appear short and scrawny.  Of course, post-serum Steve (the real buff physique of Chris Evans) needed no special effects enhancements.

Limitless

A

This splendid mind-bender with super cinematography and terrific talent opened to less-than-stellar reception.  It’s hard to say why, though it may have something to do with the fact that the story itself is somewhat bendy. Our good guy is quite the antihero. Conclusions about ethics and the means to reach an end are open to viewer interpretation. It’s not all wrapped up in a neat and shiny bow at the end, and that tends to rattle audiences used to having everything, inclusive of character motivations, ironed and folded.

The film features some amazing cinematography, with sequences that zoom viewers through the streets, alleys, and dwellings of New York in seemingly uninterrupted shots. Made me dizzy … seriously.

And then there are Bradley Cooper’s amazing eyes.  0_0  Um, sorry … what was I saying?

Cowboys and Aliens

B+

Well, I may be guilty of being too hyped up on the marketing to give this one a fair shake, but it seemed like a hot mess to me. Oh, it has its moments, and it boasts a terrific cast, bad-ass aliens that are unequivocally baddies, and some awesome Wild West scenery. I really wanted to love this movie. I was waiting to get blown away by it. The storyline is excellent — a real throwback to the feel of old comics that threw together completely implausible combinations in amazingly workable mixtures. But as much as director Jon Favreau talked about it being both about the characters and their relationships and about breathtaking FX and shootouts, it seems somewhere in between to me.  The scenes that are supposed to be heartfelt come off as a bit contrived to me; the action, on the other hand, is stymied in deference to that supposed character development. Something intangible is missing, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.  What I can put my finger on, however, is that some of the reactions of the supposed frontiersmen to being attacked by aliens is less than realistic, and that’s one way in which credibility could certainly have been built.

It’s definitely worth seeing, and I am certain to add it to my collection. Perhaps repeat viewings will change my tune about some of the details. Nonetheless, this is my first reaction … I wished I’d gone to see Captain America again.

Here are some other flicks I watched over the past couple of weeks.  Looking forward to hearing about your movie-watching adventures!

In case you live under a rock, the current state is that the Borders book store chain is closing its doors.

“It’s not pining, it’s passed on! This [bookstore] is no more! It has ceased to be! It’s expired and gone to meet its maker! This is a late [bookstore]! It’s a stiff! Bereft of life, it rests in peace! If you hadn’t nailed it to the perch, it would be pushing up the daisies! It’s rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. This is an ex-[bookstore]!”

My apologies to Monty Python, and my condolences to Borders lovers everywhere.

I (Unwittingly) Helped to Close Borders

I can tell you quite candidly that I am one of “those people” who loved having a Borders around (yes, I am a card-carrying Borders Rewards member) but rarely set foot inside it. Why?  After all, I read a lot.  I thrive on having books all around me.  And Borders has so many lovely amenities and some marvelous merchandise.

It all comes down to practicality: time and money.  I might meet a friend at Borders about once a year for coffee and browsing, I’d always stop there pre-Christmas, and I would check out a special sale or author’s book signing now and then.  But my time is so limited that most of my book shopping is done online.  I order, and my book arrives in two days without me having to spend time and money to go get it. And guess what?  I actually pay LESS for that privilege. The fact is that whenever I compare pricing in brick-and-mortar stores and online sellers, I can always find books for less online.  Don’t even get me started on the merits of my Kindle.

Now listen carefully: these are the musings of a traditionalist reader who’d like nothing better than to sit each morning (or at least once a week) in a coffee shop attached to a book store, then peruse the shelves, chat with clerks about recommendations, and purchase precious volumes from its shelves. I even dreamt (and often do still) of owning an eclectic book-store/sweets-and-coffee-shoppe in my pseudo-retirement years *sigh*. But I’ll tell you, I don’t know many people in my circle of RL or cyber friends in a far-flung radius who have either the time or the money to partake of such luxuries. We’re all working harder, not smarter, it seems, and quick downloads, borrowing from the library where possible, and cheap paperback purchases with two-day delivery to the front door are a sign of these times.

But I am not discouraged in the least. It’s all part of the fuzzy plan, and the pendulum keeps swinging.

A Brief History of Bookworm Evolution

Unquestionably, I count myself among the bookworms of the universe. Yet I am feeling ambivalent about the whole Borders going-under thing. Here’s why: if you take the long view, perhaps it’s just a matter of bookworm evolution.

The advent of books, with the invention and proliferation of the printing press, turned reading from a pastime of wealthy and pious snobs into the edification and entertainment of the masses. Availability of books shaped literature itself. Supply and demand, demand and fulfillment. This model evolved and grew for over five hundred years (yeah, well, pre-technology evolution is languorous).

Then came innovations like audio books and e-books and e-readers and brain-embeddable microchips with the entire Library of Congress on them. OK, I made up that last one, but really, how far-fetched is it?

Now people well-versed in techno-gadgets can absorb the same best-sellers as those who still belong to a book-of-the-month-club.  Geeks on the go can order their cyber-versions of books and begin reading instantaneously. Entire web communities have cropped up to discuss and disseminate the latest literature, which now includes genres our parents never could have imagined in their wildest dreams (or nightmares). Bookworms flourish! Only now they do so in cyberspace more often than under the fluorescents of the bookstore.

Is this loss of localized community sad? Certainly. But look at the big picture: Reading is alive and well. Literature flourishes and evolves in infinite new ways.  Readers flourish and multiply. It’s a brave new world!

Betting on Darwin

It’s sad that the dinosaurs are gone too. But evolution has its reasons and purposes. Some of the old must make way for the new. I guess I’m ready to go with the flow and see what happens next. It’s a dynamic universe, and its myriad mutations and adaptations result in the innovative strengths of survivors.

I won this book through the Goodreads First Reads program.

At first, this brief book read a bit like the biographical reports my students wrote in composition classes. But it picked up speed, and I was soon hooked on finding out the details it contained about Capone’s life, from its humble beginnings to its ignominious end. It’s not eloquent or masterfully constructed, but for someone who wants to learn more about the famous mobster, it offers a broad overview and some interesting details. I would definitely read more of Hendley’s condensed biographies.

Excerpt

“Capone remained in a cold fury during Frank’s funeral, which was held on April 5, 1924. With admirable restraint, he refrained from attacking the cops observing the funeral, some of whom had pulled their triggers on Frank Capone.

“The funeral itself was the epitome of gangster gaudiness — a mass display of grief bracketed by countless floral arrangements, all of which were provided by Dion O’Banion, of course. The Capone family decided to hold a wake at their home on Prairie Avenue. Thousands of people — friends, family, enemies, political allies, and the just plain curious — filed into the house to mourn and view Frank Capone lying peacefully in a silver coffin. Teresa Capone was devastated. She wept and mourned the too-early loss of her handsome young son. Capone consoled himself in a more direct manner. Shortly after Frank Capone’s death, he got into a heated argument with his political lackey, Joseph Klenha, on the steps of Cicero’s Town Hall. As if to underscore who was really in charge, Capone pushed Klenha off his feet. Once the politician went down, Capone began kicking him. Uniformed policemen stood by and watched but did not interfere. While Klenha was technically their boss, these officers were smart enough to know who the real power in town was.”

On Amazon.com

On Biography Ebooks