Fifty Two Fifty Two

by Zora Neale Hurston.

I LOVED this book.  It deserves so much more than this brief post as it gave me much to think about concerning love; mostly this: love is not to be deserved.

This book leaves me with just 2 more to read on the the Oxford American’s list of best southern novels.  Finishing is one of my goals for this year.

Also, I think Zora Neale Hurston is a kick-ass name.

Without much fanfare, but in the spirit of sticking to the project and reporting the reading:

12. The Narnian: The Life and Imagination of C. S. Lewis, by Alan Jacobs. My favorite of this batch, read with some trepidation because there’s part of me that doesn’t want to know about the authors of books I love. I am often content to see the book as its own entity, without knowing if the author had a dismal childhood or is married to a politician or divorced seven times. But in this case the thoughtful biography did help my appreciation rather than taint it. I would perhaps try such a thing again.

13. The Giver, by Lois Lowry. Because in a conversation with a person who I would like to think that I am literate and well-read, said person asked what I thought of this book. And I hadn’t read it.

14. Gentlemen of the Road, by Michael Chabon. Because I have just moved to another country, and the library has a small English section, but they have lots of Chabon, and I hadn’t read this one. It made me laugh out loud in parts.

15. All the Pretty Horses, by Cormac McCarthy. Because I wanted to read The Road, but the library didn’t have it.

16. Why I Follow Jesus, by Adrian Plass. Because someone loaned it to me (but as I also follow Jesus, I was not offended).

17. The Pillars of the Earth, by Ken Follett. Because the library had it and someone recommended it to me a long time ago. It enhanced my appreciation of the ancient churches I now pass every day.

Breakfast At Tiffany’s by Truman Capote

Finally got around to reading this legendary novella and, of course, fell in love on the first page, when the opening description of Holly Golightly’s apartment building so perfectly matches my own tiny studio in the east 70s! It’s been awhile since I’ve read any Capote, and I always forget just how much I love him. I watched the movie ages ago but turned it off before the end in annoyance at the affectation. After reading the book, I rewatched the film and found it much more palatable, but I will never be one of those people who adores it cultishly. And the book is far, far different from the movie of course, but it was fun to experience them so close together, as a young lady who rushed to New York in high heels!

Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson

Another well-written teen book, this one confronting eating disorders in adolescent girls – an issue that is mocked and laughed off or used as a quick-and-easy device for character creation, but in reality is widespread, serious and complicated. This book was tough to read at times because the voice is so unfiltered – except when the narrator, Lia, a high school girl fighting anorexia, is filtering her own desire for food. The author creates Lia’s voice very skillfully, making the girl at once very believably teen and very relatable but not trite or juvenile. The author also accomplishes the tough requirement of revealing the roots of the girl’s problem to the reader without ruining the experience of the girl working through these issues for herself. The story also includes the even more common issues of finding your place with your friends and within a reconstructed family, showing how these hurts drove Lia into her eating disorder without limiting their meaning for kids who are using other destructive coping mechanisms. And the prose itself is stunning, with a beauty I’ve seldom seen in teen lit.

As hard as it is to find teen books worth recommending, I will be cautious with this one because the subject matter is so heavy and brutal by its very honesty. But well done and important reading, I think, for those working with adolescents or for older, sentient teens.