This year's World Book Night list was
not peopled as heavily with my own TBR list as was last year's. The
bulk of these were books I would probably not have encountered, so it
has definitely been interesting reading.
To begin by admitting what is probably
my greatest readerly sin, I have never read a novel by Mark Twain.
Yes, that means I have never read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
I know. I know. But if anything, reading A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court has made me realize that I must rectify this error
post haste. There is a part in this novel where it is recommended
that we replace royalty with cats because they are basically the
same. I laughed at this joke for two days. Connecticut Yankee is
satire at its absolute best. The story is that of a 19th
century man (from Connecticut) being transported to the 6th
century (and King Arthur's court). The novel is humorous all the way
through, but where it really gains its footing (both as a satirical
work and as classic literature) is in the moments that it becomes
blatantly obvious how little human nature has changed from the 6th
to the 19th to the 21st century.
Almost as transportive as the time
travel in Connecticut Yankee, Alexander McCall Smith's The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency made me feel what it was like to be in
Botswana. Precious Ramotswe uses the money she inherits from her
father to open the first ladies detective agency in Botswana. She
sees this as her way of helping people, and while she is able to help
her customers the agency really serves as a way for readers to
encounter Africa. Mma Ramotswe deals with people from every walk of
life in Botswana, and Smith describes them all with care and an
obvious devotion to his setting. Reading this book on a warm spring
afternoon made me feel like I was traveling around the countryside in
Botswana and more than anything it made me want to travel there.
Hillary Jordan's Mudbound is the social
justice book on this year's WBN list (in case you are wondering, I
have been looking at each book and comparing it to last year's list
to decide what makes a WBN selection), but it could not stand up to
last year's The Poisonwood Bible. There is a missing emotional
element in Jordan's tale. Jamie McAllan and Ronsel Jackson are
soldiers returning to Mississippi after serving in WWII. One
character is white and the other is black. Mudbound is the story of
their very different homecomings. This novel often made me angry and
sometimes made me sad but I never felt a genuine connection to the
characters. All I had to hold on to was the horror of the story (and
the deeper horror in knowing that things such as it described did
happen time and again to families all over the south), and for me
that just wasn't enough. Mudbound is a solid novel and very well
written, it just did not resonate with me on an emotional level.
My Antonia by Willa Cather was a reread
for me. This was one of those novels that I was assigned in high
school which I was clearly not ready for. I hated it then and thought
it a terrible novel. Oh, how wrong I was. I absolutely adored the
descriptions of Nebraska and the fairytale quality of the stories
told by the immigrant characters. The novel ends with the line
“whatever we had missed, we possessed together the precious, the
incommunicable past,” such a beautiful sentiment about the people
of our childhood. The novel is one that looks heavily at memory and
time past. Jim Burden tells the story of Antonia, the daughter of
Bohemian immigrants that grew up near his grandparent's farm. Antonia
has come to mean childhood, excitement, and freedom to Jim as an
adult and he tells his story of her with an abiding passion.
Vanessa Diffenbaugh's The Language of Flowers was another book that just was not for me. Much like
Grisham's Playing for Pizza, my disdain for the main character kept
me from enjoying the novel. Victoria is an orphan who grew up in and
out of the foster care system. The novel tells her story in an
attempt to detail the cracks in the system and the troubles people
who fall through are left to face alone. The problem was that in
making Victoria troubled and flawed Diffenbaugh failed to make her
real. The only way in which I did connect with Victoria was through
flowers. She had been taught the Victorian language of flowers and
they were both the lens through which she viewed the world and the
way she forged emotional connections. Victoria's feelings about
flowers and the way she communicated through them were absolutely the
best parts of the book.
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