Review: Dead End in Norvelt by Jack Gantos

As a bookseller and the official buyer for my store, I am spending more and more of my time reading new books. My personal taste tends to lean more heavily on the tomes of dead white guys. The books I used to spend my time reading are those that have a reputation spanning more than years - often they span decades or centuries, even millennia. So, one excitement that I am just beginning to experience is that of the first flush. Most of my reading now centers around new books tJJmmmmhat are garnering a lot of advance praise and buzz. One such book is Jack Gantos' "Dead End in Norvelt."

When Gantos won the Newberry award last week I was thrilled. I'd read, loved, and recommended this book since its publication last fall. I remember the buzz about it from last May at BEA months prior to its release. Gantos receiving his award felt like a bit of a coup for myself as well. I'm really a part of this whole process now. It's exciting. But you want to know about the book, right?

"Dead End in Norvelt" is the story of Jack Gantos by Jack Gantos, but it is only semi-autobiographical "melding the entirely true with the wildly fictional." Jack's story is about the summer he spent grounded during the early 1960s in the dying town of Norvelt, Pennsylvania. Norvelt is a real community established by Eleanor Roosevelt during the Great Depression to help struggling families get a leg up over poverty. The spirit of the town was that of a true community. Everyone would lend a hand. Each individual knew the importance of the part they played and was both honor and duty bound to their responsibilities to the town and each other. That's what Jack's mom loved about Norvelt. Norvelters helped each other. Norvelters cared.

The story is heavily doused in nostalgia. Even at the time the novel is taking place this spirit is dying out. The original Norvelters are all either moving on or passing on. That's where Jack's neighbor, Miss Volker, comes in. Miss Volker is one of the last original Norvelters. She's the town's nurse, historian, and obit writer. Part of Jack's punishment over the long and boring summer is to help Miss Volker by typing up her obituaries for the local paper. Her hands have become so arthritic that she can no longer perform simple tasks. It seems strange to say, but Miss Volkers hands may well be my favorite part of the novel. They're one of Hitchcock's MacGuffins, always edging the plot along and providing interesting fodder but never really meant as the center of anything. Plus at one point she cooks her own hands and Jack thinks she's cannibalizing her flesh - though she isn't, it is absolutely hysterical.

That's really the main thing about "Dead End in Norvelt" its sweetness and curiosity coupled with outright wonderful humor. If this book were a person, I might marry it. Maybe I should write a love letter to Jack Gantos? As a character, Jack as a young boy is fantastic. He's just starting to grow up, which is such a great time to read about, there are so many questions to ask and things to discover. By putting the characters of Jack and Miss Volker together (along with the divergent views and opinions of Jack's parents) Gantos gives us this look at life's spectrum that is truly rare and is executed with perfection on several reading levels.

I know I haven't told you much about the plot, but I feel like I don't need to. Suffice it to say there's plenty here to enjoy and I don't want to spoil it. Hell's Angels, possible cannibalism, loads of creepy and interesting history, poisoned Girl Scout cookies, and a grown man who rides a tricycle - I know you're gonna love it.

World Book Night 2012

There are, as the tagline of WBN shows, 'a million reasons to read a book.' I could not possibly agree more and I am in love with the whole idea of World Book Night.

What is WBN you ask? It is a night of spreading the love of books by giving away 20 copies of one of 30 books to friends, strangers, anyone! The creators of World Book Night are looking for 50,000 people to give away 1,000,000 books. It's amazing! It's incredible. And I want you to sign up!

You can go to the World Book Night website and choose which book you would like to receive 20 free copies of. Then you answer a few questions such as where you would like to give them away: a high school, a nursing home, a hockey game ... anywhere you can think of that you can find people who may not be avid readers. If you are chosen as a giver on April 23 you will get the opportunity to put a great book in a stranger's hands and talk to them about how important books are to you. It's all about community building. You may meet your new best friend or future spouse - that's just how important books are!

Cavalier House Books has registered as a book pick up area, which means that anyone in our area chosen as book givers will come to the store to pick up their case of books. Between now and then I've decided that I want to highlight the WBN choices. I'll be posting reviews of (hopefully) all thirty books. If you'd like to read along with me you can find the list of titles here. Read on and come talk to me about the books on April 23rd when we'll be having a get together at the store to celebrate bookishness in general and World Book Night in particular.

Review: The Ogre of Oglefort by Eva Ibbotson

Eva Ibbotson is a popular British middle grade author that I had not yet gotten around to reading when she died last October. I had always been aware of her as a writer (most notably with "Which Witch"), so when I received an early copy of her book "The Ogre of Oglefort" I was very excited to have the opportunity to read it.

I would have loved this story as a kid. Talking animals are always a plus and a little girl who wanted to be turned into a bird? I could relate to that.

The story begins with a hag and a troll as they search for their new familiar, who ends up being a friendly young orphan. The beginning is sweet and I like a story that casts typically bad or scary characters in bumbling, likable roles as this one does. The characters we've met quickly receive a mission that sends them to Oglefort to slay the famous ogre. Misunderstandings ensue but there is no real action in the story until near the end.

This is a very cute book and sweet story full of unlikely heroes. However, because of the lack of fast paced action I would not recommend it to reluctant readers. Fans of fantasy and kids that dream of talking to, or becoming, animals (like myself) will definitely enjoy it.

Advanced Reading Copy reviewed from Penguin Young Readers Group

Call and Response

I've written before about how I made it out of school without encountering a lot of the classics. One such book is "Jane Eyre." In fact, I had never read any of the Brontes until I read Charlotte's novel. I wonder if I can possibly express to you how deeply I got in to this book. I followed the characters. I was Jane. I loved Rochester. I was fully present in this novel and could barely put it down. But reflecting on it made me think about the appeal of the classics. What is the draw of the literary canon? Is it that these books are all just "that good" and have managed to stand the test of time? I rather doubt this as "good" is really subjective and I've read a great deal about how "Jane Eyre" is not a technically good novel (we don't have to go into why I disagree with that, do we?). I have a feeling that the more true answer lies in the canonical books as cultural touchtones.

Reading a book like "Jane Eyre" would be enjoyable in a vacuum. It is a good book on its own terms but more than that (for me, anyway) is being able to stake my claim in the novel's cultural landscape. I don't find that I get the same satisfaction in reading modern "it" novels as I do from completing a classic. I'm not as interested in the discussion surrounding the current ubiquitous titles. I wonder why that could be? I imagine it must have something to do with the history of the discourse. The classics have years of study and written response to them.

One way in which the classics have a cultural leg up on the front list is in parallel texts. I mentioned "Jane Eyre" specifically not only because I enjoyed it but also because I read it along with Jean Rhys 1966 novel "Wide Sargasso Sea." Rhys' novel is a modern response to Bronte's and tells the story of the other Mrs. Rochester. A direct literary response like this will not be found for a current popular title (books tend to take a while to write and such) and it can add so much to the earlier work. "Wide Sargasso Sea" is a feminist, anti-colonial look into Jane Eyre's world and it will make you look at the characters within an entirely different light. A close reading of a text will give you a look at the characters but to have someone else rearrange and re-imagine them can open doors of understanding that may have previously been closed. I definitely felt that way about these two novels (though nothing could put a damper on my irrational, romantic love of Rochester ... I admitted it was irrational!).

Flavorwire recently put together a list of 11 parallel texts that's worth checking out. Many of these have been added to my TBR pile. Anyone interested in taking over my bookstore duties? I just want to stay home and read this summer!

SIBA's 2011 Book Award Winners

Cavalier House Books is a proud member of the Southern Independent Booksellers Alliance. SIBA is awesome; it's one of those resources that my customers don't really hear about but that helps me to function as a better bookseller everyday. When John and I opened the store we were so excited to join SIBA, and we've basically been excited about it ever since. From the yearly tradeshow to the camaraderie between our regional bookselling peers ... it's just fantastic.

So having said all that, I would like to share with you this year's SIBA Book Award Winners followed by a short quote from the nominating bookstore. To be nominated by for an award the book must be southern in nature (either written by a southern writer or dealing with a southern topic/setting).

In the Children's Category: Mockingbird by Kathryn Erskine

“Catlin will touch your heart. What more is there to say?” –Fiction Addiction in Greenville, SC

In the Young Adult Category: Countdown by Deborah Wiles

“Oh, this story brings back memories!” –Two Sisters Bookery in Wilmington, NC

In the Fiction Category: Burning Bright by Ron Rash

“Ron Rash can’t write a false word.” –Quail Ridge Books & Music in Raleigh, NC

In the Nonfiction Category: The Blueberry Years: A Memoir of Farm and Family by Jim Minick

“A captivating look into a couple’s efforts to create an organic blueberry farm in Central Appalachia. . .sit back and savor the sweetness of his blueberry story.”—Malaprop’s in Asheville, NC

In the Poetry Category: A House of Branches by Janisse Ray

“These poems are about waking up, looking around at the world, and discovering how to live within it.” –Kathryn Stripling Byer

In the Cookbook Category: Southern My Way: Simple Recipes, Fresh Flavors by Gena Knox

“Gena’s cookbook shows quicker ways to make traditional southern dishes from a fresh angle!” –Page & Palette in Fairhope, AL

Review: A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson

Bill Bryson made a somewhat hasty decision to go for "A Walk in the Woods." He'd already committed to walking the Appalachian Trail (to friends and neighbors, to his publisher, etc) when he began to research the trail. By then he had to go through with it and (thankfully) write a book about it. Bryson is at his best in the beginning of the book when he is nervous and uncomfortable while traveling with his long lost friend, Katz. It's then that we get lines like this: "All the books tell you that if the grizzly comes for you, on no account should you run. This is the sort of advice you get from someone who is sitting at a keyboard when he gives it. Take it from me, if you are in an open space with no weapons and a grizzly comes for you, run. You may as well. If nothing else, it will give you something to do with the last seven seconds of your life."

I really like that side of Bryson, when he's funny and a bit sarcastic but not too snide. To me Bryson always feels like he is reveling in his discomfort - as though the draw to his books is more what he didn't enjoy about an experience than what he did. And that's totally great, as long as it's funny. It's when Bryson becomes too biting or complains too much that reading becomes a drain. Thankfully, that's relatively absent from most of this book. Instead we hear that, "there is nothing more agreeable, more pleasantly summery, than to stroll along railroad tracks in a new shirt." He seems to have genuinely enjoyed his time on the trail. To have really gotten something out of becoming a "mountain man."

I couldn't help but be a little proud and a little jealous. Hiking the trail is definitely not for me. I love nature. The beauty, the austerity, the solitude. But I'm terrified of it as well (as I am terrified of most things). At the height of his discomfort during one of his hikes Bryson begins to worry that he might die even as he knows that he is in a safe situation. He starts to worry about how much he's worrying. "Presumably, a confused person would be too addled to know that he was confused. Ergo, if you know that you are not confused then you are not confused. Unless, it suddenly occurred to me - and here was an arresting notion - unless persuading yourself that you are not confused is merely a cruel, early symptom of confusion." And that my friends would be my thought process in the woods, which is exactly why I would not survive.

I can't neglect to mention how much we learn from "A Walk in the Woods." Of course, this book is the story of Bryson's walk, but he also packs it full of interesting history about the trail itself as well as the Forest Service (who knew bureaucracy in the woods would be such a bad thing?) and the general failings of the American people and government when it comes to nature. Also, he's got an unhealthy interest in the people who have died on the trail, and if you thought I wasn't going to attempt this 2,200 mile hike before, well, imagine me now. I really enjoyed "A Walk in the Woods." The book is full of pitch-perfect trademark Bryson, and in the end I feel that I have "gained a profound respect for wilderness and nature and the benign dark power of the woods."

The internet has me thinking...

There is a series of recent articles swirling around in my head right now (not the least of which is this one - no more Oxford comma? I'm a fan of all commas!). I know how they all fit together in my head; I'm just looking for a way to connect them to yours. You know, without the convenience of The Matrix.

The first is a recent discussion on NPR's Talk of the Nation regarding our limitations in media input called "You Can't Possibly Read It All, So Stop Trying." The title basically says it all and I don't know if I can possibly explain to you how this made me feel. As a means of understanding I'll share an anecdote from my childhood, when I was a kid I once asked my mom how long she thought it would take me to read every book in the world. She told me that I couldn't possibly, ever. This hit me pretty hard. Frankly, I'm still getting over it. And I'm still trying to read every book ever, which is probably why I have over 1,000 books at home. But back to the show, one of NPR's culture critics, Linda Holmes, suggests that you must either cull or surrender when it comes to imbibing books (or culture or mass media at large). To cull is to make a broad swipe and say this is not good/relevant/worth my time/whatever and ignore whole sections of artistic output while surrendering is to say this may be great, but I've already got all this other great stuff going on over here so I can't possibly get to it.

I'll call myself an approaching surrenderer (yeah, I just made that up). I'm not a cultural elitist, so I wouldn't say that I judge wide swaths of culture as beneath me and thus cull them. That being said, I can tell the difference between art and entertainment and I think that's a really important distinction that often gets lost in the shuffle. So, what I mean when I say that I am an approaching surrenderer would be that I try to balance the art with the entertainment (perhaps what my more highbrow peers would cull). I don't think being well-read means that you've read all of the Russians or Milton or whatever; it seems to me that being well-read means being widely read. I've read Milton and I've read Christopher Moore, for that I consider myself rather well-read. There's a cultural playing field when it comes to literature that I feel comfortable stepping out on. I know that there are holes in my literary background but I'm striving to fill them. That's just gotta be enough for me because, as my mother told me years ago and Linda Holmes reminded me Monday, I can't read everything.

Now, why am I sharing this with you? Before I go there, let me share the next article. Author Ann Patchett will be opening a bookstore in her hometown, Nashville. Apparently, Nashville doesn't have a bookstore anymore. The indie that had been in town for 30 years has closed, the chains have fled, and Nashville is left with nothing but the internet (and here's hoping a thriving library system but somehow I doubt it; are "thriving library systems" even allowed exist anymore?). I'm hoping you are starting to catch my drift here. This is going to be one of those "bookstores are important!" posts. I heard Patchett's news and I immediately thought of Holmes' discussion.

When you know that the number of books out in the world is really too much to fathom, how do you deal with the question of what to read? For some the answer is simply the recommendations of friends, for others it's the NYT Bestseller's List, but one that I think is really important is the community bookstore (as well as the library; I'm a huge library fan). Sure, a website can tell me what books customers purchased together, but is that all the information I want? What if I want a recommendation that's geared to me and my immediate literary community? That's not going to happen without a conversation. Then there's the limitless possibility. Not all limitations are a bad thing; in her interview Patchett says "I think we’ve got to get back to a 3000-square-foot store and not 30,000." The word typically used for stocking a small bookstore is "curating," as though it were a collection. When you have such a small amount of space a great deal of care goes into how you fill it, trust me on this one. When I consider whether or not to put a book in my store I am taking into consideration whether or not I would recommend it to someone. I don't have enough space (or funds) to dedicate it to books I don't believe in.

That is how I'm helping you to surrender to the vastness of the literary world. I spend most of my time reading books or reading about books because that's my job. I do it so that I can act as a guide through this vastness and in that way you can still have time to, you know, do your job.