The Art of Racing in the Rain

I'm shocked...shocked, by how much I loved this book.

The narrator is a dog.

There is much mentioning of racing - Formula One, NASCAR, Indy....

and the narrator is a dog. But I think I mentioned that already.

I liked this book so much that it made me want a dog. No, it made me want this dog. And I don't even like dogs.

Enzo, a terrier/lab mutt, believes in his next life he will be human. As he feels practically human already, just limited to grand gestures due to his loose-muscled tongue and lack of opposable thumbs, he spends his dog years closely watching his ownder, Denny Swift, to learn the art of being human so that when it's his turn, he'll have a head start.

Denny, a race car driver/mechanic/down on his luck dad is a kind owner who loves his dog and uses racing philosophies in his own life. There are many to choose from, but my favorite is, "No race has ever been won in the first corner; many have been lost there." Denny's own story is one of work, patience, courage, endurance, hope, and love. It's not an easy story to read. There are times I felt like throwing the book I was so mad at Denny's in-laws, but (kind of embarrassing to admit here), Enzo kept me sane. I just loved that dog. Just when I'd about had it, he'd make me laugh and I could manage another chapter.

Enzo dies in the end. It's not a secret. From the opening pages, you are reading the words of a dying dog. But that didn't take away my sadness in the end. I bawled when Denny held his beloved friend in his arms and says, "It's okay. You can go." Think Where The Red Fern Grows and Old Yeller only for adults. There is some mentioning of "mounting" (it's a dog's perspective, remember) and language.

Several times throughout the book, Denny or Enzo say, "Your car goes where your eyes go." Enzo knew that applied to life as well. Your life goes where your eyes go. I'm happy my eyes rested on this book.

Away

So - the big news is I've found myself a bookgroup! I rank finding a bookgroup I enjoy right up there with finding an OB/GYN, hair stylist, pediatrician, dentist, and babysitter after a move. I'm simply not settled until I have a group with whom I can meet and discuss things.

I was told the group planned on discussing Away by Amy Bloom, so I hoped beyond hope that I could find it at the library instead of buying the unproven book. I did and I'm lucky I did.

This is NOT a book I enjoyed. Apparently, Amy Bloom is a successful short story author and Away is her first attempt at a novel. Unfortunately for us readers, Away, while a novel's size in length, does not contain a novel's size plot. It has lots of side stories and a sort of light at the end of the tunnel to get you to keep reading, but a journey is not a plot and I found myself weary of the main character, Lillian Leyb, and her journey to find her possibly alive daughter, Sophie.

More than that, I found Lillian's character, the one and only consistant character from beginning to end, to be underdeveloped. I knew the kinds of shoes she wore, but I was given very little information about her personality. Did she enjoy being a mother? Did she love her husband? Does she want to be an American? The author writes her as extremely motivated without detailing her motivation. It's frustrating.

Her story begins as she looks for work and opportunity as a newly landed immigrant in New York City during the 1920s. Destitute and alone after the murder of her family in Russia, there is a coldness and lack of feelings to her actions. She seems to believe and act upon the philosophy that a desired end justifies any means.

Again, the story flounders because Bloom never really tells us what end Lillian wants. For the first 100 pages, she seems to merely want security but not necessarily happiness. When she receives news of her daughter who is possibly alive and possibly living in Siberia, the story suddenly changes and her sole desire is her daughter. The story's dramatic change from an immigrant's survival guide to a not-without-my-daughter drama doesn't work. The stories aren't really necessary tied together and the novel unravels into a series of short stories - none of which are particularly enjoyable as they each describe Lillian among the morally bankrupt as she impossibly attempts to find her daughter.

The delays and harships along the way (and along the way I mean from New York to Siberia via Alaska) have an almost circus-like horror to them. Any one of the situations Bloom puts Lillian in, starting with the massacre she witnesses while still in Russia) would be enough to defeat the strongest of women - if not kill them. Add to the implausibility of Lillian's survival the lack of background development to even care that mother and daughter are reunited and Away becomes a very fragmented and unfulfilling story.

A Town Like Alice

A Town Like Alice reminds me so much of my favorite book, Mrs. Mike. Both catalog the difficulties and triumphs of living in remote areas. Both are historical. Both have a strong and engaging female protagonist who are in love with a man responsibly tied to a piece of land. Neither are fluffy Harlequins but make that pit in the bottom of your stomach churn with romance.

In short, I loved it. A Town Like Alice follows Jean Paget, a Scottish woman who was raised by her parents in Malay (now known as Malaysia), returns to work there as an adult and ultimately finds herself trapped there as a Prisoner of War when the Japanese invade the Island during World War II.

Her captivity is accurately described as horrible, with starvation and long marches from town to town killing many women and children. But, it also shows that unique ability of women to nurture, even in the most degrading situations. When she meets Joe Harman, an Australian ringger (cowboy) and fellow POW, he tells Jean about his home and work near Alice Springs, a bonza town in the heart of the Outback. The two extremely lonely and isolated characters become friends. Eventually, when Joe steals five chickens to feed the sick and hungry women and children, Jean is interrogated and punished until Joe confesses and is later crucified by a cruel Japanese leader.

The story's narration is directed by an elderly British attorney, Noel Strachan, who is put in charge of a trust Jean's uncle leaves her. Even with the narration in his control, most of the story is told through Jean sharing her memories to Noel. Eventually, I found Noel's involvement and third party perspective very satisfying, mostly because it allowed the author to cover a greater amount of time without seeming overly jumpy.

The book was written in 1950 and feels like it at times. The attitudes of segregation and thoughtless charactitures of minorities creates feelings of discomfort at times. It's not done with malice, and the story isn't about racial barriers at all, so I didn't find it offensive. If anything, it allows an unapologetic view that probably most white people had at the time - which is actually an interesting glimpse on its own.

I appreciated this book - for its less frequently told story of female prisoners of war and for its celebration of the human spirit.

Anna Karenina

At the conclusion of Karenina's 800 plus pages, I add my name to Tolstoy's long list of admirers. What a thinker! Like a talented photographer, Tolstoy has an eye for realism and his writing inside the heads of his characters is perfection. For a book where nothing really happens (besides wealthy people hanging out in various places...and a few people dying) to still manage to have such a fascinating effect on readers takes a certain kind of genius. So many times, while reading, I thought to myself, "Nothing is happening. How did Tolstoy get away with writing this and why are we all convinced it's one of the greatest novels of all time?" Continued reading converted me, as it has the masses, but it reminds me of an old movie, where the story stands alone, without being propped up by special effects and dramatic music. It's good - naked.

These are my take-away overall impressions. But, there were some very frustrating moments that happened along the way. Sometimes, my eyes blurred as I waited for Levin, a wealthy land-owner who has no understanding or appreciation for insincerity and falseness (characteristics that run rampant among his aristocratic peers), to finish his conversation with the peasants or friends about farm management. The amount of time Tolstoy dedicated on a Russian painter living in Italy, and his opinion about art and technique and style seemed wholly unnecessary to me. Almost like Tolstoy introduced the portrait, knowing he'd need it later in the story for contrast, but couldn't simply write leave it at that. Instead, he had to include whatever obscure experience or knowledge he had about art too...throw it into another character. I felt, a bit, like I was being taken on a ride.

Obviously, I am a modern reader, and need my greatest-novels-of-all-time written modernly! Imagine, me...little reader from nowhere, thinking, "This Russian guy needs an editor!"

I include the critical thoughts along the way, because I don't think I'm alone in thinking Anna Karenina is, perhaps,a little bloated. However, bloated or not, this is an incredible, incredible book. Embarrassingly incredible. Like, how in the world does Tolstoy see the ridiculous inside everyone's head? How does he know how insecure a man like Levin is - a man, who from the outside, appears to have everything? How does he understand how a woman can be instantly irritated and irrational from something that her lover has said, or...more frequently, has not said?

It's not only the realism that makes this book famously good. It's the artful way he makes his case against falseness. Through one of his dual protagonists, Levin, he cleanly paints his case with soft, muted colors - conversations, thoughts, and actions - that reflect,ultimately, a very likable character. Levin does the right thing, usually thinks the right thing - so his thoughts are beautiful, enjoyable thoughts. If Levin hates falseness - well...I will hate falseness too!

Then, on a canvas located directly beside the pretty picture, he paints Anna, with dramatic boldness - including the vividness but also the awful, the disturbing, and chaotic result of a woman, who, every bit as passionately, hates falseness too. Whereas Levin is ultimately rewarded for his inability to accept hypocrisy, Anna, a woman we know isn't really bad, but who makes choices that aren't sympathetic either, is punished for it.

It may seem bizarre to review a book named Anna Karenina and only now mention her. I was surprised that this isn't more her book. Her story, along side Vronsky's, is certainly the most intense and tragic, but the novel's overall point isn't limited to her infidelity, or about her choice to leave her husband and child (which is what I thought it was going to be about. Even my husband, when he saw I was reading this said, "Oh. Reading the adultery book, huh?").

In fact, it's about a group of Russia's aristocratic upper class, and their motivations and justifications about the way they live their lives. Their stories are all tangled together and each of their decisions and actions create shock waves throughout the group. Tolstoy shows how, even within a privileged group such as this, where access to information, money, justice etc., supposedly is the same, how differently they think and choose to behave. There's the brilliance. I read a quote from another famous author who said that if the world could speak on it's own, it would sound like Tolstoy. Exactly.

Thousands of reviews have been written about this book, and I certainly have nothing new to add, but, if you have hours and hours of spare time or a penchant for 19th century Russian socioeconomic exposés or simply enjoy the thoughts of a great mind - read this book.

The Alchemist's Daughter

Very hard to get into, but worth the effort. The story is made difficult with lots of ancient scientific theory about alchemy and discussions about the various philosophies propagated in the 18th century about air and fire. That kind of discussion doesn't make for easy reading, but if you can manage to get through it, the underlying story about innocence, nature vs. nurture, death and redemption are all very interesting. Throw in a heart wrenching romance and I found that I quite liked it.

A Room With A View

I found myself in the rare situation of reading a book after I've watched the movie. Unfortunately, my mind was forced to conform to the images of the actors and actresses playing the parts of George and Lucy and Cecil. Thankfully, they were good images and I was comforted to know that a movie I loved was as good as the book it stemmed from.

Kind of a quirky book for period literature, but I like it all the more because of it. It's funny and honest and satisfying. If you're not up to reading it, rent the movie. It's a fair copy.

A Long Way Gone: Memoirs Of A Boy Soldier

Heartbreaking. I can't believe people have life experiences like Ishmael Beah. Ishmael, a 27 year-old refugee from Sierra Leone now living in New York City, left his home with his brother and some friends to practice a new rap routine in a neighboring village. He was twelve years old. He never saw his home or his parents again. Rebel forces attacked his village, killing most, and causing the rest to flee.

Without a home to return to, he and his peers managed to spend several months wandering from village to village but eventually, as they were old enough to be mistaken as soldiers themselves, they became objects of fear. Left starving and hiding in the forests, Ishmael and his group were eventually captured and forced to become soldiers.

A boy whose favorite thing was to perform rap songs for people was suddenly cutting throats and shooting anyone that moved. He became a drug addict, as higher ups encouraged the boys to swallow white capsules and sniff cocaine to "give them more energy".

Years later, he was fortunate to be chosen by his lieutenant and UNICEF workers and was enrolled in a rehabilitation unit. It took him eight months to fight the drugs out of his system and to turn into a child again. His agony and nightmares about what he had done are intense. He was only fifteen years old.

When the fighting moved from the villages into the city, Ishamel knew that he could not become a soldier again. Earlier in the year, after he had completed his rehabilitation, he traveled to New York to represent UNICEF and the youth in Sierre Leone at the UN. From this experience, he contacted one of the women he had met in New York to ask if she would be willing to allow him to stay with her if he could get out of his country. Amazingly, he managed, got to New York and has since graduated from the UN's International School and graduated from a university.

What amazes me when I read books like this, because I don't really enjoy them, is how deplorable certain areas of our world really are. We are often told of the blessings we enjoy from living where we live: freedom, prosperity, security. We worry about losing zero percent interest for credit cards and avoiding trans fat, while other people in the world literally watch their best friends get blown up. Certainly our problems and worries are real, but when put into perspective, they are molehills compared to mountains.

I'm grateful this boy got another chance. I'm horrified that most do not.

Austenland

I am a Pride and Prejudice snob. I only like the BBC version, with Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy and Jennifer Ehle as Elizabeth Bennett. While there are parts of the newer, shorter, harried, and nuance free Hollywood version I enjoy, like the supposed-to-be-prettiest-sister Jane, who is actually much prettier than the actress in the BBC version, every time I've watched it (which, I grant, is only twice), I feel angry afterwards. First, Kiera Knightly is NOT Elizabeth Bennett. Elizabeth Bennett does not smile a ridiculous smile showing her bottom teeth all the time. And she is not flat chested. I mean, come on....we're talking about the girl who woos Mr. Darcy. With those low-cut gowns in style, I'm guessing there was a little bit of oomph necessary to catch his eye. That and a pair of "fine eyes". Mostly, though, the entire movie is rushed. The actors spit out their lines in Gilmore Girls fashion, important scenes are entirely cut out, and then two minutes are devoted to watching Kiera Knightly spin on a swing. Frustrating.

Anyways, my point is (and I do have one), that there is only one good movie adaptation...and it's six hours long and only strays (and not really even strays, just leaves out a few minor details) slightly from the book. So, when the main character in Austenland, Jane, loved this movie as much as me, I knew I could appreciate her.

32 year-old Jane, single and relationship challenged, is obsessed with Mr. Darcy...the dreamy Colin Firth who walks across his magnificent grounds in a wet shirt after diving into a pond (you know the scene). The Colin Firth...I mean Mr. Darcy, who beams at Elizabeth while she's turning pages for his sister, Georgiana, at the piano (you know this scene too). After her rich great aunt comes to visit her, and subsequently finds her two-disc DVDs hidden behind a houseplant, Jane is surprised when she receives a call following her aunt's death from the probate attorney. Instead of money, her aunt leaves her an all expense paid for trip to an exclusive British resort, where Jane will spend three weeks living the Regency period lifestyle in an attempt to fulfill, and also hopefully expunge, her Darcy obsession.

I found the beginning of this book to be annoying. Jane is too nervous and melodramatic and not all that likable. For starters, I have no idea why anyone would be ashamed of owning Pride and Prejudice. Houseplants? Please. I'm thinking of fashioning my set up with a chain and wearing it around my neck. See? I'm a true fan.

However, the three weeks she spends at Pembrook Park, a Netherfield/Pemberly-esque manor with servants who can't speak to her, empire wasted gowns, gentleman that are actors (or are they?), turns about the room, walks on the grounds and a ball are simply fantastic. The situations are entertaining, the plot pleasantly twisty and the ending satisfying.

Shannon Hale writes a light-hearted fantasy romance that is sure to please even the snobbiest Jane Austen fans. As a warning, do not expect a Jane Austen book. While Hale does a fair job mimicking some of the dialogue, the novel is thoroughly modern and much less subtle. It is a romance...therefore extremely unlikely to be true. Regardless, when I turned the last page, I had a smile on my face and said, out loud, "That was fun!"

A Thousand Splendid Suns

For the last two months I have been putting off reading this book. For starters, I bought the book at an airport in Taiwan, which meant it didn't have a due date which meant it took a backseat to many books that I didn't have the luxury of reading whenever.

Additionally, because I've heard so much about this book already, I almost didn't want to read it at all. I've heard that it's depressing, that it's not as good as The Kite Runner, and that it's basically a novel about the brutal treatment of women in Afghanistan.

You know when you read a book or see a film that has had great reviews and you finish feeling disappointed because it didn't live up to the hype? My experience reading this book was the complete opposite. I loved it. I didn't feel the message of the book was one of brutality or depression, but of hope and the toughness of the human spirit.

There are plenty of awful scenes to lend credence to its reputation. While the story's time frame spans thirty years, the main focus of the novel are two woman, a generation apart, whose lives cross as they become the wives of the same man, Rasheed. The elder, Mariam, was born to a servant woman out of wedlock and is raised in banishment, ignorance and eventual rejection during the years the Afghani government was controlled by the communists. She finds herself forced to marry a much older man after her mother commits suicide. Laila, fifteen years younger and raised by intellectual parents, enters the marriage under much different circumstances. Alone after a bomb destroys her home and kills her parents, and pregnant by her childhood love who has fled the country, she marries Rasheed in a desperate attempt to save her unborn child.

The writing engrossed me. Much like the Kite Runner, Hosseini magically puts the reader in the city, neighborhood and house of his characters. Much to his credit, I found myself torn between wanting to yell at Laila to hush up, so that she'd avoid another beating, and kicking Rasheed myself, because he is a despicable brute.

Mariam, one of the most tragic characters in literature, makes this book what it is; a story of love and strenghth. She, who didn't have an easy day in her life, allows herself to be touched by the love of Laila and her children. In return, she performs the ultimate act of love and saves a family.

I appreciate Hosseini's portrayal of a part of the world that is under so much scrutiny lately. Afghanistan, and the city of Kabul where the story takes place, have a long history of wars and occupations which result in a great chasm between different ethnic tribes, Islam, economic classes and gender. Hosseini uses this novel to tell the story of Afghani women and the hardships that face them with each regime change.

As a woman, I feel blessed to have been given confidence and opportunities. I truly cannot imagine what it would be like to live under the conditions the women in this book live under. I am grateful to be born to the family I was born to and in a country which allows me to live the kind of life I choose.

Miram and Laila didn't have the opportunities or support that I have. And yet they survived. They endured and they reached out to others, despite their circumstances. In this, Hosseini redeems all of Afghanistan by showing these two women's humanity. He shows that in a place whose beauty was written about in a 17th century poem, where "One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs and the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls" is a city that can become illuminated once again.

A Fool's Progress

I've never read Edward Abbey, but when Jay saw this book, he suggested I read The Monkey Wrench Gang, a book he had read in high school.

Seriously, what is it about me never hearing about authors and books that every.other.educated.person I know seems to know about? I've never heard of Edward Abbey and I only checked it out because it got great reviews on Amazon.com.

Apparently, Edward Abbey is an environmentalist whose books have been known to inspire radicals but also open up frank discussions about the treatment and protection of the western landscape. All right. That's one point of view. I can respect that.

But, this was not the book to start with. I don't know if he's a great author or what, but, supposedly, this book is autobiographical and I can tell you, if it is (he's dead...so it's all speculative anyway) that I don't like him. Completely self-indulgent and apparently moral-less, I'm not interested in his addictions or inability to commit or his lassez-faire attitude when it comes to love, work and person hygiene.

The writing is, I admit, good, but I'm a story girl...and the story is....bad.

You'd think he'd endear himself a little by calling himself a fool. By being so blatantly honest. But it only shows off his self-indulgence and egocentric perspective.

A Fool's Meandering is more like it. I witnessed no progress here.

At First Sight

I had to read fifty pages of this before I realized it was a sequel to a book I had already read (True Believer). I knew I knew these characters but the story was unfamiliar to me. It's one of those moments where you think your memory is failing you. Had I already read it or not? Turns out, no...but I didn't really need to read this either.

A very boring but realistic sequel about what happens after the oft written about love-at-first-sight-happily-ever-after story, there isn't much noteworthy about the book until the end, when Nicholas Sparks pulls one of his didn't-see-it-coming rugs out from under you. His endings tend to make up for the rest of his stories (which is a rare thing in fiction) and I admit to feeling intense emotion at the end. But, truthfully, I felt a little manipulated by the whole thing. Quit tugging on my heartstrings, Nick! And write a better book!

A Short History Of Tractors In Ukraine

Part of this is very funny. Part of it is very sad. Another dysfunctional family. But, I learned some things about Russia and the Ukraine.

An eighty year-old man marries a young 30 something woman from the Ukraine. She needs the marriage to stay in England, he needs someone to look after him and he likes her bosoms. His two fifty-something daughters highly object. Conflict. Broken English conversations.

I actually liked this. I remembered the workers on my old house and perhaps gained a better understanding of their take on the West and Capitalism. Through the old man's memory of Ukraine's history and agriculture, the horrors of Stalin and the corrupt communist government is told. That's some of the sad stuff.

But a plump, platinum blond 30ish Ukrainian woman calling her 80 year old meal-ticket a "meanie husband with squishy-squashy-flippy-floppy" when he won't buy her a Rolls-Royce on his pension is pretty funny.

Not really, but some of the conversations and parenthetical comments are. What I'm taking away from it? A lot of who we are is a product of the times we are raised in. In this story, know-it-all socialist younger sister learns a lot about her fur coat sporting sister who experienced starvation and Stalin's collectivization. I think we'd all be nicer to each other when we understand the circumstances that shaped us.

Any Human Heart

A few weeks ago, while Jay and I were watching the HBO series "Extras" on DVD, Kate Winslet was a guest star and playing herself as an obnoxious, Oscar seeking actress who only chooses roles based on whether or not they might get her an Oscar.

For instance, the movie the cast was working on was a WWII/Holocaust movie and there was a conversation about what a great film it was. She responded that the only reason she was doing it was because actors that act in movies about the holocaust get oscar nominations. That and acting the part of someone with mental illness or a handicap. Callous...but maybe true?

So, if an actor is so believable acting as someone with a handicap, but the movie is awful, does it count? Does the great acting matter more than the bad movie? I couldn't help but feel like this writer was going for some kind of literary award rather than writing a good book. He writes in the style of a journal entry and all of the reviews that I read that raved included how "spot on" his writing is. How convincing it is that the reader actually forgets that it is fiction.

The title comes from Henry James's quote... Never say you know the last word about any human heart. I love the quote and the idea even better, but William Boyd provides no justice for James with this novel.

The "subject" is an English man who, throughout his life (early 1900s to about 1980) and "work" (he never really did...just sort of floated to whatever happened to fall into his lap) and chance, he meets interesting historical people like Picasso, Hemingway, Virginia Wolff, James Joyce the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, Jackson Pollack etc. But, he doesn't actually possess any talent and also seems to serve little purpose. I hate calling any life pathetic but his actually was. He drifted from spot to spot, having affairs and doing all sorts of tawdry things and never, ever did anything meaningful in his life. He's my worst nightmare.

I always like to think that within every man, there is enormous potential. I also like to think that if you get to know anyone well enough, you will eventually like him/her. You just have to know their heart (ahhhh....the author and I think alike....but he manages to prove me wrong!) He had every opportunity...and he did nothing. The absolute bare minimum and got away with it. He saved nothing, provided nothing, inspired no one. Waste of space.

It sounds harsh but HE WASN'T A REAL PERSON! I suppose it would be even sadder if he was and I've no doubt that there are many people who spend their lifetimes to this end, but I don't need to read about it. This was a waste of my time. At almost 500 pages, I need more than just a believable journal. If I'm going to learn about someone's heart, I'd like to see some substance and I need it to matter. I do not recommend this at all.

An Inconvenient Wife

I've been in a reading mood all week. I have this stack from the library because all of my holds came in at the same time and it's just too tempting to pass up. I wish I was in more of a paint/declutter/get-ready-to-put-our-house-on-the-market mood because that looms nearer and nearer but in the meantime....I read.

Kelly A recommended this and I'm always up for a recommendation. The book centers around Lucy, a depressed socialite in the late 1880s. She claims to want to fit into her world of dinner parties, decorating houses and newest gowns but she is so unhappy and has fits of hysteria (mostly withdrawal symptoms due to her complete addiction to opium that was prescribed for her faulty uterus - ah....enlightened science). Her latest doctor realizes that she is not simply bored and unhappy, but that she is a caged bird. He uses hypnosis to uncover her subconscious will and promises as treatment to use suggestion so that she will find joy in the routines of her life. Under hypnosis, however, he discovers that she is severely repressed and uses his influence to "create" a new kind of woman to further his scientific research. When she becomes more opinionated, more ambitious, her husband is infuriated and embarrassed with what his high society wife has become. Of course, the affair between Lucy and her doctor doesn't help him feel any better, either.

I've always had the ability (to a fault) to get drawn into a novel. I feel the book. I felt melancholy when Lucy felt melancholy, agitated, annoyed and repressed when she did too. All this I enjoyed. I didn't enjoy the Chicagoesque ending. I'll stop there so I don't spoil it. A very interesting read. It doesn't seem that long ago but this elite class, the educated and sophisticated, honestly thought that the female brain was less evolved and that men needed to guide and protect females in all things (even picking out jewelry). That kind of talk enrages me but it was an interesting look at the history of depression and the role of woman. She was treated as such an anomaly for being depressed. Funny, but she would have fit right into today's world of women on anti-depressants. I wonder what that says about either of our worlds. Are we more repressed now? Are we caged birds?

Angle Of Repose

Two days later and I am still profoundly moved by this book. I can't stop thinking about it.

I am not a lover of words and whenever I read reviews that say, "savor each sentence" and "beautifully fluid prose" I tend not to be impressed. Just give me the story and make me feel. But Wallace Stegner's sentences really do make you want to slow down and read each word. They all matter. They aren't just puffy and pretty even though they are. It serves the time, the characters, the setting...it's just perfect.

I didn't know before reading this that Angle of Repose is actually a scientific term that means when the angle of the ground is such that things stop rolling down. A 50-something historian who has been disfigured and is emotionally scarred heals himself by researching and writing a biography of his grandmother. He reads through her letters and journals, articles that were published and sketches she drew and extrapolates about her relationship with his grandfather, her kids and others she knew. The weaving and changing in time is subtle and I didn't find myself jarred back and forth as I sometimes do when authors use this technique. You feel their lives sliding until the end when things get to the point where they are still. It is beautiful, sad, motivating, and moving. I feel like this book matters. That you can actually gain something other than entertainment by reading it. It is going in my favorite's section.