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Monday, April 11, 2016

What Secret Asian Girl is Reading

Circling the Sun by Paula McClain

  I used to play the soundtrack to the film Out of 
  Africa to relax Tristan and to get him to fall asleep.
  The sweeping, expansive theme kept running  
  through my mind as I read Circling the Sun. Paula 
  McClain's novel is the story of real-life Beryl 
  Markham, a remarkable woman best known for  
  flying solo across the Atlantic from Europe the U.S.  
  and for training race horses while she lived in 
  Kenya. At a time when women were expected to 
  wear white linen and fan themselves on the
  veranda, Beryl was forced to marry at 14 when 
  her father's horse farm failed and he moved away. 
  She had two choices: come with him and a step 
  mother who disliked her and stay in Africa and 
  marry someone she barely knew. The marriage 
  was doomed from the start but it gave Beryl a     
  chance to start her own horse training facility and  
  figure out who she was. Meanwhile, she met, and    

socialized with, many of the well-to-do white settlers who viewed Kenya as a way to make money and escape the confines of European society. It was here that she befriended famed author Karen Blixen, aka Isak Dinesen, whose autobiographical novel Out of Africa would come to define life of an expatriate in Nairobi. Blixen's affair with hunter Denis Finch Hatton fascinated Beryl and she began her own affair with Hatton, a love triangle which would continue off and on for the rest of his life. 

The novel is beautifully written, redolent of the wildness and beauty of Africa at the beginning of the 20th century. The author makes you feel the blinding heat and heartbeat of the nearby tribes, smell the frangipani and wild lilies. McClain's ability to capture the indomitable spirit of Beryl as she went through the heartbreaking loss of her farm, saying goodbye to family and a love for a man who would never really love her back drew me in, experiencing with her the choices she was forced to make. It's important to keep in mind the timeframe the characters are in; women didn't have many choices, especially without a man by your side. In some ways, the story was a Downton Abbey in Africa, where reputation was everything and it took incredible courage to step outside of convention in order to survive. This novel made me interested in reading Ms Markham's autobiography, West With the Night. Listen to John Barry's amazing soundtrack as you read this. You'll imagine yourself flying over the African plain feeling like you can do anything.

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

What secret asian girl is Reading

On Lone Star Trail by Amanda Cabot

On Lone Star Trail is the first book I've ever read that is a self-described "Contemporary Christian Romance" so I wasn't really sure what to expect. Of course, I had preconceived ideas about what I thought it would be like, and...I was pretty much on target. Books like these are for a very specific audience, none of which applies to me. In spite of that, I will say that this novel was fairly well-written, without too many overtly religious references and didn't make me 
roll my eyes too much.

We meet the main character, Gillian Hodge, while she is recovering, more mentally than physically, from a auto/motorcycle accident that has ended her career as a concert pianist. She blames motorcycles, fate, her dad and herself for boxing herself into a job that can be so easily taken from her. She has decided to visit her pregnant best friend in Blytheville to get her mind off her troubles and figure out what to do next. Since this is also a romance, this is where the "meet cute" occurs. A handsome man on a motorcycle loses control of his bike in front of her and she is forced to help him by taking him with her to visit her friend's vacation lodge. Ah, the irony! While there, she promises herself she won't fall in love, won't ever play the piano again and won't feel sorry for herself, all of which (of course) happens during her brief stay. Other than choosing which perfect man to choose and counseling some wayward teens, there isn't much conflict. Money is not a problem, finding a relationship is not a problem, there are no moral or ethical conundrums, no crime, no strife. There is also no diversity in the town itself.

The problem I have with this type of book is that they depict a privileged character with mild problems in a Mayberry town with other people exactly like her. Every storefront is cute and homey, everyone's business seems to be thriving and everyone knows everyone else and they all like each other. Basically, a white, upper-middle class girl with not a lot to worry about except to look at her many options and choose which one makes her happiest. While it seems glaringly unrealistic, I've heard there are places like this - I've just never met anyone who's ever lived there, under the age of 70 at least. This must be the "great" part of America that certain politicians are saying we need to get back to. Trouble is, there's no place for me there and I doubt I'd be welcome anyway, which is probably what makes everyone want to return there.

I'm not saying that every novel has to be culturally diverse and realistic either. By definition, this genre is escapism. Not everyone wants to be slugged in the face with real life problems when they sit down to read a book. In that case, I applaud Ms Cabot's novel for being a great getaway from reality. As to the religious aspect of the book, I was glad to see it wasn't an overriding theme throughout the story. I am not a religious person so I don't understand how it helps but I do know that for some people it is comforting and reassuring. I also know that a crisis of faith can be as devastating for some as a crisis of self-esteem or confidence. The characters face all of these as they struggle to recover from great personal loss. The most "risqué" part of the story involves (gasp!) pre-marital sex, in this case with underage minors. Since nothing really happens, there is, again, no actual conflict although the bullet is dodged close enough to require a rescue and a lot of praying. The lack of sexual tension in the story, for a romance novel, is, quite honestly, a relief. Ground-shaking kissing is about as racy as it gets, which is way better than the clumsy, sexist, soft porn found in a lot of romance novels.

If you long for the simplicity of life in the 1950's, a Gidget-style romance with "gosh golly I think I'm in love with him" moments, this novel is for you. It's sweet and wholesome, clean and vanilla. The people in it have little to no character flaws, kids respect their elders and babies are born with no complications. I can't remember if there's any profanity but nothing stands out. I'm sure there's an audience out there for it but unfortunately, it wasn't me.

BUY LINKS

Check out these other great blog stops on the tour!
2/11 My Book Fix Blog – Author Interview
2/12  The Crazy Booksellers – Promo
2/13  Missus Gonzo – Review
2/14  All for the Love of the Word – Promo
2/15  Hall Ways Blog – Promo
2/16  Books and Broomsticks – Promo
2/17  Because This is My Life Y’all – Review
2/19  The Page Unbound – Promo
2/20  Book Crazy Gals – Promo
2/21  It’s a Jenn World – Review
2/22  Belle Whittington on Tumblr – Promo
2/23  A Novel Reality – Promo
2/24  The Librarian Talks — Review
2/25  Secret Asian Girl – Review*


*A copy of this book was provided to me in exchange for an honest review.

Friday, February 19, 2016

What secret asian girl is Reading


Mourner's Bench by Sanderia Faye


    February is Black History Month, so it seemed 
   appropriate that I picked up Mourner's Bench to   
   read when I was just finishing a display at work of    
   notable African-American novelists. This novel  
   takes place in a town I've never heard of, Maeby, 
   Arkansas in 1964, a year I was alive in. I have 
   very vague memories of school integration, 
   having attended public school in the 1960's and  
   70's but I do remember the people involved. My 
   elementary school was 99% white, and the only 
   Asians were my family: me, my sister and a 
   cousin. It was a time when we knew it was too 
   late to say "Negroes or colored people," and too
   early to say, "African-American" so "Black" 
   seemed to stick, although hesitantly. We were not          
   unaware of the great social changes going on 
   around us, even if we didn't wholly understand 
   them. There was   one black girl at my school,
 Janice, the daughter of the school cafeteria lunch lady, and she was in my class. I saw how my white friends stayed a few steps away from her, even while seemingly accepting of me, despite my obvious differences. I was not yet "Asian" but "Oriental," the political incorrectness of which, I only recently had to explain to my now 87 year old mother. (I believe I am still a "Pacific Islander" on some government documents but that's another story). Anyhow, Janice and I got along easily, two odd birds finding comfort in our shared discomfort, but I had family and always wondered how isolated she must have felt. Middle School ended up being an urban mix of blacks and Mexicans, with a minority of White kids, and Orientals were (again!) mostly my family with a few probably distant relations. Interestedly, Janice gravitated away from the friends she'd made (or pretended to make) in elementary school and found commonality with black kids who were part of the desegregation busing experiment of the early 1970's here in the South. I completely understood Janice's need to be with people who shared her experience. After we changed schools we never spoke again, which saddened me.

In Mourner's Bench, while the story's background is the early school integration of black children into white schools, much of the conflict is within the main character, 8-year old Sarah, who is torn between the comfort of what she knows and the prospect, and danger, of the unknown. Like my mother's generation, Sarah's grandmother, Muhdea, is hesitant and fearful of change. Granny, Muhdea's mother, is also afraid for Sarah but it's a concern based on past experience, some of which was steeped in deep violence and hatred. Racism and intolerance are obviously not new problems and not likely to go away soon (if today's political climate is any indication) but the concept of "separate but equal" and "integration" were new back then. Sarah's idealistic, fair-weather mother, Esther, is a product of the new courage of the era but her elders have seen what happens to trail-blazers with no support and they are fearful. Most books that deal with this subject emphasize the strength and moral conviction of the characters. I was gratified to see that while there is that, there is also a side seldom seen: the grappling with reality, the courage but also the dread of repercussions. It was still a white person's world at the time and they were not the only group resistant to change. At some point, someone says, "The colored school is good enough," which is not so much statement of resignation but one of protection of their loved ones when the odds are not exactly in your favor. Esther has the confidence of the truly untested and is like a bulldozer when it comes to pushing her idealism on her family, leaving Sarah unsure which side to take. Change, especially the hard-won kind, comes neither easily nor without risk.


Norman Rockwell "The Problem We All Live With" 1963

I really enjoyed reading Mourner's Bench. I wasn't sure what a "mourner's bench" was exactly, so I had to look it up. I think Sarah was so anxious to sit on the bench not just to own her own sins but also to lay claim to her own life, not Esther's and not her family's. I loved the way the author described life in poverty stricken Arkansas, from the deeply religious devotion of the community, to collard greens and fat back smells to the crunchy gravel roads and the rare ice cream treats at the diner back door. 

As I read, I couldn't help but picture Norman Rockwell's famous 1963 painting of 6-year old Ruby Bridges, as she walks, head held high, into the newly desegregated school in Mississippi, flanked by U.S. marshals, graffiti and thrown tomatoes staining the wall behind her. She's an icon, and a national symbol but I'm sure all she was worried about was making friends that day or keeping her dress nice, or trying to fit in. The innocent concerns of little girls everywhere. Girls like Sarah and...I suppose, like Janice, too. 




Check out these other great blog stops on the tour!
2/1 All for the Love of the Word – Promo 2/3 Missus Gonzo – Promo 2/5 My Book Fix Blog – Promo 2/8 Books and Broomsticks  -- Promo 2/10 Blogging for the Love of Authors and Their Books – Promo 2/12 Because This is My Life Y'all -- Review 2/15 The Page Unbound -- Promo 2/17 Texas Book-aholic -- Review 2/19 Secret Asian Girl -- Review 2/22 Hall Ways – Promo



Saturday, January 30, 2016

What secret asian girl is Reading


Pennies From Burger Heaven by Marcy McKay


Pennies from Burger Heaven by Marcy McKay is the story of a young girl whose circumstances lead to her and her mother living on the grounds of a city cemetery. Copper Daniels is street-smart and savvy to the ways of the homeless world so when she wakes up one morning and finds her mother gone with no explanation, she gets to work finding her. Most people would call the police, but Copper's reaction is one of self-reliance, perhaps the only gift from her mother, so she sets out to unravel the secrets kept from her and uncovers some of her own. 

The fact that the premise of a family living in a cemetery does not raise eyebrows is social commentary in and of itself.  The problem  of homelessness in this country has escalated to terrible proportions and Copper's story is symptomatic of this. A story like this one would have believability issues 30 years ago. But today, a young girl living on the streets among crazed murderers and evil rapists (and evangelical preachers) is just exposition. Oh, I forgot to add that there's a Street Killer on the loose in the area, but for Copper, the threat of being murdered is just one more obstacle to finding her mom. Suffice it to say, the odds are against her but since she doesn't have a stone sword like the Warrior Angel, a statue she lives near, wields, she must use the only weapon she has to solve the daunting task in front of her: her wits. As the story progresses it becomes less of finding her mother and more of navigating a world that ignores her kind. "The Street Killer's message reminds us all," she observes, "God hates the poor."

I thought this novel was constructed very well. The language is a bit rough, especially the use of some slang, but reflective of the setting and the world in which the characters live. As testament to which groups are most affected by homelessness, there's pretty much every minority included with some stereotyping, which bothered me a little. I tend to throw up a reader block whenever Asians are named "Mai" or some variation of that: May Ling, Pearl, Suzie Wong, etc. Why can't they be "Jennifer"? Anyway, that may be a personal prejudice of mine and less objective commentary. I liked the descriptions of the different parts of the cemetery, as in life, people divided into the "Somebodies" of the world versus the "Nobodies" and culminating in the anonymous "Unknown Negro." Whether young Copper absorbs the metaphor or not is unknown but it reads loud and clear even to the casually observant reader.

Although I'm not fond of the title (the Burger thing was off-putting to me) I do recommend this book as a young adult or "new adult" offering. This is a story about overcoming odds, digging deep to survive, girl power, parental love, the power of friendship, sacrifice and life changing on a dime...or, this case, a penny as it turns out.





Check out these other great blog stops on the tour!

1/18       My Book Fix Blog  -- Review
1/19       Hall Ways  -- Promo
1/20       The Page Unbound  -- Author Interview
1/21       bookishjessp  -- Guest Post
1/22       Because This is My Life Y'all  -- Review
1/23       The Crazy Booksellers -- Promo
1/24       All for the Love of the Word -- Author Interview
1/25       Books and Broomsticks -- Guest Post
1/27       Missus Gonzo -- Review
1/28       The Librarian Talks -- Guest Post          
1/29       Belle Whittington on Tumblr  -- Author Interview
1/30       Book Crazy Gals -- Promo
1/31       Secret Asian Girl  -- Review
2/1         Texas Book-aholic -- Review


Saturday, January 16, 2016

What secret asian girl is Reading


Carrying The Black Bag: A Neurologist's Bedtime Tales by Tom Hutton, M.D.


I'm old enough to remember watching Marcus Welby, M.D. on television with my family and being riveted by the personal stories and doctor/patient relationships highlighted in this popular drama. Dr. Welby was always so insightful and wise. As soon as he arrived, carrying that black leather bag full of magical cures, you knew the patient was going to get the best care possible and all would be well. But what was most interesting was finding out that doctors possessed the same doubts and frailties that we, regular humans have and their "super powers" are really just a best guess gleaned from a long road of education and hit and miss experience. I thought Carrying the Black Bag was a good example of the doctor memoir genre. We get to see Dr. Hutton's early days as a novice resident who is also trying to make ends meet at home. We don't often think about doctor's personal lives and the financial and personal struggles with new marriages, new families, while still maintaining rigorous schedules at work. I thought it was fascinating to catch a glimpse of a young doctor's first realization of the weight of his new responsibility, symbolized by the shiny, new leather bag as it is finally placed into his hands. There are few professions where life and death are the results of work decisions and the full impact of it all on a young doctor is fascinating reading.

I thought the book was well-written, medically technical without being overly so, and maintained a folksy, home-grown quality about it, reminiscent of James Herriot's All Creatures Great and Small. In fact, one of the best chapters in the book was about his beloved dog, Dice, whose goofiness and lovable personality reminds us that respect for life extends beyond humans. I loved the parade of colorful patient characters, vividly drawn by Dr. Hutton while still maintaining their dignity and the seriousness of their maladies. Funny, stubborn, and often familiar personalities are the heart of this memoir where the people, not the diseases, take center stage. Many of the vignettes cover years of patient history, beginning with the vague symptoms, following through to triumphant recovery or tragic finales. The narrative is clinical but sympathetic and deeply personal.

Carrying the Black Bag is a wonderful peek into the long career of a successful doctor whose resume is not so much filled with files of diseases he's cured as much as people who affected his life; whose humanity superseded the afflictions that changed their lives and whose courage gave hope, and a kind of peace, to those who came after them.

BUY LINKS