The Witches of Eastwick

By John Updike

I was listening to NPR a few months back and they had an obituary on John Updike, an author I had certainly heard of, knew little about and had never read. I say obituary, but it was more of a remembrance, a tribute (link provided at the end of this post). It made me want to read his books.

I thought witches wouldn't be such a stretch for me after my streak of vampires lately.

This book spanked my bottom! John Updike can write. He writes a wonderfully fun and slightly sinister story (it was about witches!) with some incredible prose. I love the way he crafts paragraphs and his descriptions were surprising, hand painted images. He has a way with language. It made me want to read everything he has ever written.

The story is simply about three friends who are also witches and a man that comes into their lives and changes everything for them. They have some bewitching times and push the envelope on what society expects of women. Provoking, on a number of levels.

[Describing the sound of a cello] " . . . it's vibratory melancholy tones, pregnant with the sadness of wood grain and the shadowy largeness of trees . . ." (20)

"We all dream, and we all stand aghast at the mouth of the caves of our own deaths. . . " (210)

"The little trees, the sapling sugar maples and the baby red oaks squatting close to the ground, were the first to turn, as if green were a feat of strength, and the smallest weaken first. Early in October the Virginia creeper had suddenly drenched in alizarin crimson the tumbled boulder wall at the back of her property, where the bog began; the drooping parallel daggers of the sumac then showed a red suffused with orange. Like the slow sound of a great gong, yellow overspread the woods, from the tan of beech and ash to the hickor's spotty gold and the flat butter color of the mitten-shaped leaves of the sassafras, mittens that can have a thumb or two or none. . . The ferns underfoot in fading declared an extravagant variety of forms. Each cried out, I am, I am. There was thus in fall a rebirth of identity out of summer's mob of verdure. The breadth of the event, from the beach plums and bayberries along Block Island Sound to the sycamores and horse-chestnut trees lining the venerable streets (Benefit, Benevolent) on Providence's College Hill, answered to something diffuse and gentle within Alexandra, her sense of merge, her passive ability to contemplate a tree and feel herself a rigid trunk with many arms running to their tips with sap, to become the oblong cloud oddly alone in the sky or the toad hopping from the mower's path into deeper damper grass - a wobbly bubble on leathery long legs, a spark of fear behind a warty broad forehead. She was that toad, and as well the cruel battered black blades attached to the motor's poisonous explosions. The panoramic ebb of chlorophyll from the swamps and hills of the Ocean State lifted Alexandra up like smoke, like the eye above a map. Even the exotic imports of the Newport rich - the English walnut, the Chinese smoke tree, the Acer japonicum - were all swept into this mass movement of surrender. A natural principle was being demostrated, that of divestment. We must lighten ourselves to survive. We must not cling. Safety lies in lessening, in becoming random and thin enough for the new to enter. Only folly dares those leaps that give life." (97 - 98)

Here is a link to the obituary:
http://www.onpointradio.org/shows/2009/01/remembering-john-updike/

Apparently there are movies and musicals and all sorts of productions based on this book. I had a hard time getting the original cover, the one from the book I read!

Book 23

The Afghan Campaign

By Steven Pressfield

"I wished once to become a soldier. I have become that. Just not the way I thought I would." (350)

A compelling and harrowing coming of age war story written by the extremely talented Pressfield. The story is told through the eyes of the young Matthias who comes to serve Alexander the Great in this Afghan campaign. The reader grows up with Matthais as he moves from a child to a man and into a soldier, bearing the memories he must endure to get there.

Another simple narrative throughout this story explores the role of honor in Afgan society at that time. It involves a woman and the code of honor which binds her by death to anyone who breaks that code of honor. The clash of cultures unopened is riviting and heart breaking.

Pressfield tells this story with an engaging storyt, simple but beautiful prose and a deep heart for the soldier's experience, coming from his own history as a Marine.

His books are popular with our troops. I completely understand why- he writes from the soldiers point of view, in an authentic and fearless way. He writes the truth of war, not just the glory or horror. He tells the truth from both of these extremes and everything (painfully) in between.

"We are keenly aware that we are boys, not men like Flag and Tollo. We do nothing like they do. We don't talk like them or stand like them; we can't even piss like them. They inhabit a sphere that is magnitutdes above us. We ape them. We study them as if we were children. They remain beyond us." (37)

"It is simultaneously extraordinary and appalling to see how efficiently our Macks (Macedonian soldiers) work this. They slaughter an entire male household with barely a sound, so swiftly that the wives and infants are cast into dubmstruck shock. It is the kill of wolves or lions, the cold kill of predation. It is work." (45)

"What makes Afghanistan so miserable is there's no shelter. The wind howls out of the mountains with not a twig to break its rush. Terrain is spectacular, but its beauty, if you can call it that, is stern and unforgiving. No trees intercept the rain, which descends, when it does, in volumes unimaginable. In the hot season you bind covers round every surface of metal exposed to the sun. To touch them unprotected blisters you to the bone. Now comes the wind. To trek in such a gale is like marching in a tunnel. The universe contracts to the cylinder between your muffled eyes and the rucksack of the man in front of you." (68)

In a speech by Alexander, beloved by the troops: "This is not conventional warfare. It is unconventional. And we must fight it in an unconventional way. Here the foe will not meet us in pitched battle, as other armies we have dueled in the past, save under conditions of his own choosing. His word to us is worthless. He routinely violates truces; he betrays the peace. He comes back again and again. He hates us with a passion whose depth is exceeded only by his patience and his capacity for suffering. " (70-71)

"Our women are still with us. The ordeals of mountain and desert have transformed them. They have earned our respect and their own. They fear now only the halt, when the corps may decide it no longer needs them. Biscuits paints my sore-pocked soles with vinegar and binds them with molesckin. Ghilla sets bones. Another girl, Jenin, sets up as the outfit's source for nazz and pank. The women have become indispensible. Even Flag defends them." (130)

" 'There must be a way to be a good soldier in a rotten war.' Boxer laughs. 'When you find it, Matthais, be sure and let us know." (156)

"The depth of horror one experiences to witness this is impossible to convey by the medium of speech." (176)

"The Afghans . . . posess two invincible confederates: the scale of their land and its desolation." (186)

"The enemy loves to attack out of the rising or setting sun. In the mountains, vales and even shadows can conceal battalions. In prarie country, dust storms building late in the day provide cover behind which the foe maneuvers and strikes. The tribesman appears along your track, where you think only your own men are coming from. He knows how to use glare to blind you and grit and rain to obscure his nubers. Suddenly he's on top of you." (231)

In The Company of Soldiers

In the company of soldiers
I have no need to explain myself.
In the company of soldiers,
everybody understands.

In the company of soldiers,
I don't have to pretend to be a person I'm not
Or strike that pose, however well-intended, that is expected
by those who have not known me under arms.

In the company of soldiers all my crimes are forgiven
I am safe
I am known
I am home
In the company of soldiers.

Read this book!

Book 22

Every Last Drop

By Charlie Huston

A vampire book found in the mystery section of the library. This is an intriguing, dark, compelling book about a vampire and his world. A world that sits right beside Manhattan, Queens, Brooklyn in New York state with living human beings (read blood for the taking) and how they negotiate that tension. Huston realistically and painlessly creates a whole vampire reality without distracting from the story at hand (sometimes a story gets lost in the need to share all the background about the politics or some new world that the reader must grasp in order to follow the story). Compelling from the beginning, for me mostly because of the misenthropic vampire who takes lead in the story. A kind of anti-hero, a dirty Harry with really sharp teeth.

He weaves a good story. I really don't want to reveal much about it except note that it looks like this is the fourth in a series. Which is kind of a bummer for me as I now feel I have knowledge that may taint my later reading of the first few books in the series. But it is what it is.

If you have any interest in vampire stories this is one of the most interesting and surprising ones I have read. It is well written, although if you are afraid of a few cuss words you would do best to avoid this book. It deals with heavy themes that are, in the end, about the darkest reaches of the human experience.

Book 21

Descartes Bones

Descartes Bones: A Skeletal History of the Conflict between Faith and Reason
Russell Shorto

Written with vigor and humor this book is the story of Descartes skull. Really. But it takes you deeper than that without feeling like you are mired in philosophical fiddle-faddle. Shorto takes a small object with a heavy history and lightly skirts a story full of intrigue and curiosity about how we as modern folk were born.

Why Descartes? It boils down to his "cognito, " and more important the implications of taking doubt and questions down to the very end of its logical conclusion. It is, what we know as, I think therefore I am. The author explains it this way: "Once the acid of his methodical doubt had eaten its way through everything else, what he was left with was not, technically, even an 'I' but merely the realization that there was thinking going on. . . thinking is taking place therefore there must be that which thinks." (pg 20)

The author then weaves the story of this great thinkers skull with the intricacies of the history of thought pre-Descartes (what led him to think and express what he did) and his legacy. He describes with good conviction that the Enlightenment thinking splintered off into those who took Descartes method and incorporated it into religion, those that were secular in a moderate way and then radical secularists. All of this can be channelled in the ultimate book, in this author's opinion, Discourse on Method. It was significant because it was written for the public at that time, in the French language and not latin. Further, he wrote in the first person. Each of these points was revolutionary on its own.

And just because I can't help myself, I leave you with some of my favorite musings from the book on death: "Death is the event in life. It is our chief organizing principle. It's why we rush and why we dawdle, why we butter up our bosses and fawn over our children, why we like both fast cars and fading flowers, why we write poetry, why sex thrills us. Its why we wonder why we are here." (pg 43)

Book 20

Harry Potter - The Series

J. K. Rowling

I am sure no one reading this has ever even heard of this series so let me lay it out for you . . .

Kidding.

I admit I must be the last person on the planet to read the Harry Potter series. In fact to date I have only read one but I thought I would do a continuous posting about the series since many of you have read, dissected, regurgitated and read the series again. Second, there is SO much written about the series I will not attempt to enter that dialogue. I do not want to become a Harry Potter know-it-all, there are lots of them online who have been chewing on this material for a LOT longer than me.

Feb 25: Finished Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
This simple yet imaginative book about a boy who does not think he has much going for him finds out he has magical powers and indeed has his own cult following. Not really comprehending the broader reality due to the urgent needs in his concrete reality (not getting beat up by his cousin and their unruly gang) he changes course at life's instruction at age 11 and the world of magic opens up to him. A miracle for the boy who was formerly allowed only to sleep under the stair case and had the family scraps on a good day and went hungry on a bad day.

What does it mean to suddenly realize you have something special when you thought yourself ordinary or down right looked down upon prior? How do you respond to that special gift? How do you treat others after acknowledging this gift?

I look forward to learning more about Harry's response to these questions and of coarse to the mysteries alluded to in this first book.

Book 13

March 1: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
To me this one was exploring the role of predestination and freedom of choice as Harry struggles to find out if he really was a Slytherin, the school prone to the Dark Arts, and if so did that mean he was somehow destined for the Dark Arts too. I liked this question and enjoyed his struggle with the question. In the end, Dumbledore says "It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." A challenging thought for anyone!

I really found Lockhart a difficult character to stomach but I suppose that is the point! I continue to like Hadich (he was framed!) and Hermione (I love a serious student!) and of course Harry and Dumbledore.

I was mystified as to why Harry didn't tell Dumbledore everything he knew when he asked him if he had something to tell him. I was also surprised at how little he inquired about his parents heritage given his struggle for his own identity. There were not enough Quidditch matches in it for my taste!

Book 14

March 4: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
I failed to blog after reading this since I just launched right into book 4. I liked the twists and surprises with Sirius Black. Almost as an answer to my above blog entry on book 2, you learned a lot more about Harry's parents which was very important. Their connection to Sirius and the whole way you learned the story was great fun. Dementors are frightening! I love that you defeat them partially by focusing on your happiest memories.

Book 15

March 8: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
This was the best book by far. I feel like the three previous books were laying the foundation for this one. All the people Harry had developed relationships with, all the ways that he had "done the right thing" and all the hurt and struggle he had been going through with the loss of his parents and his crappy muggle family were all leading up to this story. It was riveting! My only regret was how many chores we had to do this weekend so I didn't get to just sit and read until Sat night. The tournament was so interesting and intense, but then to have the whole thing turn on its head at the end of it was wonderful. Very exciting, engaging and inspiring book! This one hooked me, I am a fan of little Mr. Potter.

Book 16

March 15: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Book five proved to be slightly torturous. I enjoyed the torture, it was a great book. With the power of the dark side closing in, reminiscent of Nazi Germany through the Ministry and the person of Umbridge, and utter hopelessness about anyone ever believing Harry's last encounter with Lord Voldemort through most of the book I was quite indignant and upset. I also greatly missed Quidditch!

I really expected more from Sirius. Not that he was in any place to suddenly become a parent to Harry but I think the relationship between them could have been fostered more deeply. Certainly, when they ended up back at Order of the Phoenix for Christmas break there was ample time for connection and conversation. The entire year/book I felt Harry was going through Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and all he needed was someone to talk to. Therapy or a parental unit or at least a mentor. Yes, Dumbledore failed to see the human needs of a human child. Alas, no magic can make someone not miss their mum!

The mirror that Sirius had given Harry made me so sad. That was all he needed to do was have a way to communicate and a lot of this would not have happened. Harry's perceived protection of Sirius ended up being his death.

Now he has even more need for therapy than ever! If Dumbledore doesn't step up to the plate and finally teach and love Harry himself, I will be damned!

At least all the cards are on the table and he can at a minimum not have to deal with the horrific adolescent indignity of your peers laughing and jeering at you as if you are some kind of freak.

Book 17

March 24 Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
Well, Dumbledore certainly stepped up to the plate. The book was exactly what I wanted to experience after book 5. They really do get better and better.

I cried at the end. I can't say much more. I am quite devastated.

Book 18

March 30 Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Very wonderful amazing series. I feel like I lost a friend now that it has ended. I started it on Feb 28 and finished it Monday, March 30. I want to read it again without interruption. What a nerd! I will take myself on a vacation and just read the whole series cover to cover in a few years.

Alaster "Mad Dog" Moody was I think my very favorite character. Hagrid is up there in the top few, he was after all the one who first broke it to Harry that he had magical power! Snape turned out to be just as complex and interesting as Dumbledore, all favorites. Of the kids, I guess Hermione and Ginny were my two favorite (I am assuming Harry was a favorite of course). I loved the twist on Nevill Longbottom in the last book. The whole idea of Hogwarts as torture chamber was brilliant.

The battle was mind blowing. I loved it better than Quidditch. Not much to say that has not been said already. It is a beautiful series with a lot to enjoy and appreciate!

Book 19

[mercury under my tongue]

By Sylvain Trudel
Recommended by the New York Times Book Review

Seventeen and dying of terminal cancer. This is a novel. The language is very languid, fluid and heady. It is not so much emotion drawn out of you as the reader but thought. Questions swirl through the pages.

What have I done with my (not so) short life? What is accomplishment, true satisfaction, and contribution (or choosing not to contribute)? What is living life to its fullest? And what if your version is vastly different from those who love you?

One of my favorite side trips in this book is the stark look at being terminally ill and how you feel almost like a side show at a carnival (a freak show). The brutal honesty with which the writer writes about the heavy burden of others' pity, guilt, sadness and pain. The cold reality that often the one undergoing this horrific experience is suddenly the one asked to comfort those around them. Is that the right thing to do? How would we each respond?

I also appreciate the existential questions, philosophical ruminating and religious outcry that takes place in this one small boys last days.

"Outside the winds are sobbing for no one and it's a waste of breath; and the December gusts are hurling snow and ice violently against the windowpanes. you might think they were whirlwinds of salt and the moans of a child, and tears blur my eyes when I think about how I've spent my life: I didn't realize how quickly I was in the process of losing everything; I didn't understand that every day that doesn't seem like much is one small cog in the great mechanism of universal loss." (pg. 122)

Book 12

http://www.amazon.com/Mercury-Under-My-Tongue-Novel/dp/1933368969

Cold Mountain: A Novel

By Charles Frazier

This is loosely a civil war book, but it really has the civil war as the back drop with this beautifully written, surprising, simple story right on top of that bleak context. The writing was absolutely unique and compelling. Often the language itself truly delighting me to where I laughed out loud or thought about some sentence for days.

In a strange way I felt this more as a love story. Between the main characters but also between each of them and the land, Cold Mountain. And woven in between was a story about the love of books. Next to the exploration of love was unearthing recovery. Recovering from war or putting it more broad, recovering from anything violent and painful. How do we stitch ourselves back together when life has exposed us to horrific and youth robbing experiences? With all naivete, all innocence gone, do we throw in the towel or fight to live anew regardless of the known loss?

"In his mind, Inman likened the swirling paths of vulture flight to the coffee grounds seeking pattern in his cup. Anyone could be oracle for the fortunes if a man dedicated himself to the idea that the future will inevitably be worse than the past and that time is a path leading nowhere but a place of deep and persistent threat. The way Inman saw it, if a thing like Fredricksburg was to be used as a marker of current position, then many years hence, at the rate we're going, we'll be eating one another raw." (pg. 16)

"He could not even make a start at reckoning up how many deaths he had witnessed of late. It would number, no doubt, in the thousands. Accomplished in every custom you could imagine, and some you couldn't come up with if you thought at it for days. He had grown so used to seeing death, walking among the dead, sleeping among them, numbering himself calmly as among the near-dead, that it seemed no longer dark and mysterious. He feared his heart had been touched by the firs so often he might never make a civilian again." (pg. 180)

"When he set the bow to the new fiddle, the tone was startling in its clrity, sharp and pure, and the redundancy in the tuning led to curious and dissonant harmonic effects. The tune was slow and modal, but demanding in its rhythm and of considerable range. More than that, its melody constantly pressed upon you the somber notion that is was a passing thing, here and gone, unfixable. Yearning was its main theme." (pg. 233 - 234)

"To Ada, though, it seemed akin to a miracle that Stobrod, of all people, should offer himself up as a proof positive that no matter what a waste one has made of one's life, it is ever possible to find some path to redemption, however partial." (pg. 234)

"Ada had tried to love all the year equally, with no discrimination against the greyness of winter, its smell of rotted leaves underfoot, the stillness in the woods and fields. Nevertheless, she could not get over loving autumn best, and she could not entirely overcome the sentimentality of finding poignancy in the fall of leaves, of seeing it as the conclusions to the year and therefore metaphoric, though she knew the seasons came around and around and had neither inauguration nor epilogue." (pg. 355)

http://www.amazon.com/Cold-Mountain-Novel-Charles-Frazier/dp/B001O9CBQM/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1234919780&sr=1-2