This one was for my bookclub.  Generally speaking, if it’s historical fiction, my bookclub will want to read it.  Generally this genre makes me a little wary.  While there have been several books of this type that I’ve enjoyed, they tend to be a bit formulaic.

The first bit of formula is that there must always be a modern day heroine following or investigating the life of the historical heroine.  In the tenth gift we have Julie Lovat and Catherine Tregenna respectively.  For a while I was worried that they would somehow be the same person (reincarnated) or related or some such — particularly when Julie’s cousin points out that they have the very same handwriting!  Thankfully Johnson does not follow down the path that Labyrinth took.

Julie receives an embroidery book as a gift, an embroidery book that happens to be hundreds of years old and once belonged to the above mentioned Cat Tregenna.  In between the patterns and notes, Cat keeps a diary of sorts.  And while Johnson endeavors to explain why Cat knows how to write — her employer wants to do well by her and see her educated — it seems very unlikely that any woman of cat’s station in the early 1600s would know how to write.  Suspension of disbelief.

Cat’s diary tells of her dreams to leave her village home, her horror at the prospect of marrying her cousin Rob (really?  “Rob”?  It just seems so informal for 1625…) and eventually her capture by Barbary pirates who intend to sell her into slavery.

Some criticisms first:

Gosh Cat and Julie fall in love rather easily.  Here is where The Tenth Gift becomes formulaic again.  Both women fall in love with Morrocan men.  I can only assume this happens because the author herself fell in love with a morrocan man while she was there doing research for the book, because she really doesn’t show us why they fall in love.  We don’t get to know either man well enough to understand it — particularly in Cat’s case, where the man she loves is the man who captured her and her friends and family.

Having Rob go all the way there, spend months as a slave, only to have Cat turn him down was just MEAN.

Gosh Anna was awfully forgiving.  Too forgiving, in my opinion.

Not only are Julie and Cat far too similar, but the two men who died at the Cornwall house both write the exact same goodbye note to their wives?  Because one potentially haunts the place?  What?

The book was a captivating read, in spite of these flaws.  I finished the whole thing in one sitting and was very interested in seeing if the plot would follow through what I felt the rest of the pattern was.  It did, and despite being wildly predicable, it was entertaining.

I am sad. I know it’s mostly for his characters. But I was one of those 10 year old girls who LOVED dirty dancing. I think I saw it 10,000,000 times on sleepovers. And when I discovered Patrick played Darry from “The Outsiders” the ultimate big brother, a pseudo father figure for me at 13, well.

He fought hard against a form of cancer that I hear is awful.

To you, patirick. A class act to the young girl I once was.

This is not a book I would normally have picked up, to be quite honest. But my Mom kept hounding me about it — for weeks she would ask, almost every time we talked, “Have you read the book yet?” So finally I bought it and read it just so I could say yes, I have.

So, the Shack instantly comes across as one of those Inspirational books that will Change Your Life merely from the blurb on the back cover. It attempts to answer the question “Where is god in this world of unspeakable pain?” through the story of Mack. Mack has lost his 8 year old daughter; she was kidnapped and murdered while the family was on a camping trip. In the midst of his gut wrenching depression and anger, Mack receives a note telling him to back to the scene of the crime. It is here is ostensibly gets the answer to the question posed on the back of the book.

I am a natural skeptic of these types of books. I want them to mean a lot to me, as they seem to be trying so hard to do so, but it is the trying too hard that turns me off. For example:

1) The faux non-fiction type of writing, as if it was a true story and Mack a real person. I’m not sure what the point of that was, beyond emotional manipulation.

2) God as a big, black woman. Great idea, i totally get what Young was trying to do here, I do. It was an attempt to show people that god is not something that is stereotypical, he is not necessarily male, or white or whatever. And the other two parts of the trio were very United Colours of Beneton as well. But I guess it just seems that by doing this Young is trying to be edgy.

3) God as “Papa”. Sigh. I don’t know why this makes me so squirmingly uncomfortable. But it does. I like the idea as god as a father, and calling him “father” doesn’t bother me. “Papa” seems too familiar, too intimate. I suppose that may be the point. But unlike Mack, I couldn’t get over it.

Despite these negative points, I did enjoy the book. It had a message, although sometimes it was hard to figure out exactly what that was. Young does paint god as a very compassionate, approachable deity, which is a refreshing change.

“I am not evil. You are the ones who embrace fear and pain and power and rights so readily in your relationships. But your choices are not stronger than my purposes, and I will use every choice you make for the ultimate good and the most loving outcome”

And this bit was particularly interesting too:

“Who said anything about being a Christian? I’m not a Christian.”

So, overall, a worthwhile read, just to make you think. It certainly did that for me, and I read it all in one sitting, late into the night. So go into it expecting interesting discussion on religion and life, and you will be satisfied. Go into it expecting to suddenly end up in church next sunday — well, you may have missed the point entirely.

1. Berlin (2 nights) Hotel Belmondo am Kurfuerstendamm — from the reviews, this one looks the least swank, but it’s also fairly close to city centre, and I’ve learned that’s often a trade off (see Vienna hotel).  Approx. 7 kms from city centre.

2. Prague (2 nights) Ibis Karlin Hotel Looks decent enough.  About 3 kms from city centre.

3. Vienna (1 night) Austria Trend Event Hotel Pyramide — Far from city centre (13 kms) and only for one night, but the hotel looks fantastic.

4. Budapest (2 nights) Danubius Hotel Arena On the Pest side of the Danube.  Approx. 5.5 kms from city centre.

5. Krakow (2 nights) Holiday Inn Express — say what you will.  You always know what to expect at a Holiday Inn.  And by the end of a trip, that’s nice.  About 3.5 kms from city centre.

6. Warsaw (2 nights) Kyriad Prestige Closest one yet.  Not quite 2 kms and a 20 minute walk to city centre.

I am starting to get excited!!

Yet another bookclub choice, The Bestiary was my suggestion for this round, and I rather enjoyed it.

The Bestiary tells us the story of Xeno Atlas and his ongoing search for “The Caravan Bestiary”. Xeno is a man who has grown from a childhood mixed with both loyal care (his grandmother, his nanny) and emotional neglect (his father).  After his mother dies in childbirth, these are his caretakers.

His grandmother, in particular sows the seed of his interest in all things to do with animals, and this love includes both the known and the mystical.  But it is time at boarding school (after his beloved grandmother dies and his father runs off to his life as a sailor) that introduces him to the idea of ‘The Caravan Bestiary”, a book that apparently lists all the animals that didn’t make it onto Noah’s ark.

Christopher manages to write a Divinci Code-esque book that I didn’t loath.  In fact, the similarities didn’t occur to me into well the book.  Mostly because the similarities are superficial (thankfully).  Yes, Xeno is on a mission to unravel knowledge that has assumed to be hidden by the church.  But that’s about where it ends.  No one is hunting him down, and there are no evil church men trying to thwart him.  And Xeno is not the perfect protanganist.

Indeed, I questioned his choices regarding his relationship with his father.  Xeno comes across as very hard on the man, who I didn’t feel was such a bad guy.  He did his best to try and raise his son while grieving his late wife.  I also didn’t necessarily buy what felt like his sudden close relationship with the Morettis.  It felt to me like it came out of nowhere.  But once it was there, I enjoyed watching it evolve in fits and starts, much like real life relationships sometimes.

I was also a bit disappointed by the ending. The story didn’t resolve the way I really want it to.  But then I suppose the actual ending was better story telling than what I was looking for.

Despite its few flaws, the Bestiary is an engaging read.  Now I want to go research bestiaries!

This one was another for book club, and I have to say that when I finished it I shut the book with a snap and said “That’s it?!”

Here be spoilers.

This is the story of Mary Boulton, the young widow who killed her husband. That we know from the outset, as Adamson tells us this as we are introduced to the fleeing Mary. Or, as Adamson constantly refers to her, “The Widow”. As if the two frightening brothers-in-law aren’t enough to remind us of her past, this moniker is necessary as well. Don’t forget, dear reader, that Mary killed her husband.

Why does Mary kill her husband? I’m not sure if Adamson intended that to be a mystery, but if so, it was a wholly unsatisfying one. And if it wasn’t meant to be a mystery, and Mary’s reasoning behind her act was meant to be obvious and sympathetic, well, Adamson doesn’t succeed with that either. Finally if it’s meant to be an illustration of her madness, perhaps he shouldn’t have told us she was half-mad on the first page.

Really, I suspect Mary killed her husband so that the author would have something to keep her running.

And run she does. For several hundred pages of drawn out, boring description. The Outlander can be seen as both Mary’s story and the story of those who come to assist her on her journey, and frankly I cared more for her angels than for the widow herself. There just wasn’t a whole lot there.

Not in terms of characterisation, anyway. In terms of mind-blowingly detailed (boring) description, well, there was more than sufficient amounts of that. In fact, I wouldn’t say I read this book so much as I skimmed it for actual plot.

I almost dropped it halfway, but was spurred on by the question of those two scary brothers-in-law who are relentless in their pursuit of Mary. Do they ever find her? That was what kept me going until the rather predictable end.

This has been a tough week.

Last Monday, June 1st, I was at work at 8:30 working on an urgent request. I had just come in, saw it in my email and headed straight to my boss’ office without noticing one of my team members, Lucie, wasn’t in yet. She would normally be in by this time. When I got back to my office my voice mail indicator was flashing with a message from a colleague.

This woman worked downstairs, used to work with Lucie, and was in fact her cousin. She was calling to let me know that Lucie had been in a car accident. She sounded strangely calm, and I thought it was a fender bender. Maybe a bad one, but my mind never went to the worst possibility.

Until I called her back and she was sobbing. “April, they’re saying she’s dead.”

I didn’t believe it. It had been so third hand, from Lucie’s daughter, to her mother, to her cousin, to me. They must be mistaken.

They were not, unfortunately. The car accident was brutal, sudden and fatal. Today was the memorial service.

Lucie worked for me for a mere three months, but in that time she had such an impact. She was so organized, so easy to talk to, I didn’t have to give too much direction, she knew what she was doing.

I remember one of my last conversations with her. I was letting her know that I understood it must seem like a lot of menial tasks, because I often asked her to draft emails that needed to be sent out to our network across the country. I told her that while it wasn’t glamourous there would probably be more coming her way. Not because she couldn’t do more, but because she was an excellent writer, in both french and english.

“Really?” she asked me. She seemed disbelieving.

“Absolutely. You write extremely well and it’s been a huge help.”

I wish I had said more. I wish I hadn’t been stressed out the last day I saw her. But I find comfort in knowing I had least had the chance to say that one little thing. One compliment, one acknowledgment of her strengths.

Not to be trite, but we should all do that more often.

Repose en paix, Lucie.

Oh man, this is totally the best.  My Mom loved this song.

Oh! And this, which I knew the original with Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings, but this one also has Johnny Cash and Kris Kristofferson!

Nate Phelps.

A speech/article by Nate Phelps, son of the infamous Fred Phelps (who I will not link to).  Interesting insight, particularly since his father’s “religion” seems to have driven him to thte other extreme.

In case you missed it in one of my many very late night posts on facebook, I wanted to share this very moving tribute to the troops in Afghanistan.  While it’s slightly old, and was originally made for specific soldiers who passed away, I think it can be generalized.

It is beautiful.  While I heard of this “highway of heroes” phenomenon, to see it, finally, brought tears to my eyes.  The music may have contributed as well.

Two scenes always get me: The row of police (OPP?) on the side of the highway (there must be at least 6 cars) and the guy standing on the median with his hand over his heart.