It had been at least ten years, if not more, since I last read a book in the Vampire Chronicles. I really didn't remember much that happened in those earlier books, but that's okay because apparently Anne Rice didn't expect anybody to remember anything, and she does an excellent job of weaving the highlights of the earlier narratives into this new tale. Prince Lestat was such a joy to read. Even though Lestat is, as always, the central character, all the vampires are back, and it felt like revisiting old friends. This book centers around a slow-building mystery tied to the origins of the vampires, which is a very compelling plot. Rice is an incredibly descriptive writer, so I felt as if I were transported all over the world as Lestat and the others made their journeys. I nearly stayed up all night to finish the book once I was toward the end, but my common sense prevailed, even though in my younger days I would have been more than happy to sacrifice sleep and stay up all night with the best vampires in the business.
This book is full of gorgeously descriptive passages and characters that seem like they could walk right off the page. It's one of those books that seems like it's begging to be a movie, but at the same time, there is no way that actors could do these characters justice. At first, I wasn't sure that the voices of the five main characters were different enough (each chapter is told from the perspective of one of these characters). However, their individual identities slowly emerged, and then I wanted to spend more time with all of them. Butler does a great job capturing the romantic elements of life in small town America with details that somehow manage to be clichéd and true all at the same time.
Sometimes when you're in a Roche Brothers in central Massachusetts on a day when you should have been at Disney World, you find yourself browsing their small selection of books, and see a well-designed cover that catches your eye. And because buying books is sort of an addiction, you go ahead and get it, because you certainly aren't going to be doing any exciting shopping. And then that little book turns out to be pretty great, buoyed just a bit by the circumstances in which you bought it – that magic that can only come from something unexpected. This Is How I'd Love You is a bit of a fairytale love story with a WW I backdrop. The protagonists are so likable that it's impossible not to root, or have affection, for them. Also, there's a circus involved, and that's never a bad thing.
I recommend this book for two reasons: (1) It does a wonderful job showing many different attitudes towards slavery in the Antebellum South (in this case, Charleston), including those of slave owners who saw themselves as 'benevolent,' of abolitionists, and of slaves themselves. I was worried that this could become a bit of a mess as handled by a white Southern author, but I shouldn't have worried: Kidd handles everything with a graceful and gentle touch. (2) It sheds light on two fascinating abolitionist and suffragist sisters who have largely been swallowed up by history. This book, while a work of fiction, is full of so many remarkable lives grounded in historical fact.
This collection of short stories about Marines in Iraq (or in the States after Iraq) is a sobering look at contemporary warfare, and the short story format fits the topic well. Klay has a writing style that reminds me very much of Tim O'Brien. It is succinct in a way that communicates a military mindset, yet it is also rich and full of details that make the characters seem like real people. And really, a book like this should be a bridge to a world and a life that civilians can never hope to truly understand. But at least authors like Klay and O'Brien can give us enough of a glimpse that we can feel empathy for young men like those in their books, even if we can't begin to imagine all that they've gone through.
It's been a while since I've read a really solid and inspiring piece of non-fiction, but Lost City of Z filled that void nicely, even though I could have done without the descriptions of maggots burrowing under people's skin, and other graphic, insect-involving passages. The jungles of South America are not places I'd like to visit in real life, but I'm happy to be transported there by a book. And on some level, I've always been fascinated by the concept of El Dorado. While the whole book is captivating and engaging, taught me a lot I didn't know about Amazonian civilizations, and captures the adventurous spirit that could only belong to a time in which so much of the world was still unknown, the final chapter (set in the present day) was particularly illuminating and compelling. The Lost City of Z offers a rich, transportive experience that reminds me why I love books so very much.
The blurb on the back of this book compares Abramowitz to Nick Hornby; an apt comparison indeed. I could see Teddy (the protagonist of Thank You) and Rob from High Fidelity having a wary sort of friendship -- wary because they are both slightly cynical and best find their emotions through music. They are also both early middle-aged guys trying to make the best out of their lives while refusing to let go of their passions. Thank You is very music geek-friendly and contains several highly quotable passages -- and also many passages that made me chuckle out loud. The characters are well enveloped and the story ties them in some unexpected directions, which tend to hover on the edge between absurdity and believability.
I haven't ever read any Tony Hillerman books, but that is going to change now that I've read this engaging mystery (and its follow up, Rock with Wings) by his daughter Anne. The story is engrossing, the main characters are extremely likable, and the Navajo history and culture are fascinating. I especially liked how adept Hillerman is at bringing Ship Rock, Window Rock, Chaco Canyon, and other places in the Navajo Nation to life.
I guess I am a sucker for small-town love stories this year -- even if some of the writing in this one reminded me a bit too much of amateur romance novels (mainly because no actual people smirk anywhere near as often as all the characters in this book do). However, the romantic tension pouring off the pages was pretty delicious, the heroine is obsessed with football, and the story is set in Texas (hence the heroine's being obsessed with football). Ultimately, while this was a quick read, and not exactly great literature, it was truly enjoyable, and a bit of an escape from big city life.
To be honest, I wasn't expecting anything terribly deep out of a memoir by Nicholas Sparks, but this book totally surprised me and provided several punches to the gut. Sparks has faced quite a bit of hardship and tragedy in his life, and I can now totally understand why he writes the type of novels that he does. This book also helped me learn a little about myself, since I saw a lot of my own work ethic and habits in those of Sparks. Seeing these traits in someone else, and seeing how he struggled to make time to truly live and enjoy life, helped me to put my own busy life into perspective. As a bonus, I also got to read about remote and beautiful world wonders like Machu Picchu, Easter Island, Angkor Wat, and the Taj Mahal, among others. Even for those who aren't fans of Sparks's novels, Three Weeks still has plenty to offer, inspirational or otherwise.
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