Brainiac by Ken Jennings ****

My husband recently started DVR-ing Jeopardy! so I've watched more episodes of that in the last month than I think I have in my whole life. It used to be something my grandpa would watch when I was little. I never understood why he liked it. But, he liked a lot of boring things, like reading Reader's Digest, watching M*A*S*H, dancing at the Elk's Lodge and playing card games. But, guess what I discovered this time I watched it? I actually KNOW some of the answers. So, adulthood is definitely an affirmative at this point.

Last year for Christmas, my mom gave Joel this book and he thoroughly enjoyed it. After he found me lingering on the couch during entire episodes of Jeopardy! he recommended the book to me. And, as anyone who knows Joel knows, if Joel recommends something for you to read or watch, you should totally do it. It will almost always be a big win (only 2 strike-outs in the 15 years I've known him). So, I did. And liked it.

Ken Jennings is incredibly relatable, infusing his book about both his experiences on Jeopardy! as well as the history and meanderings of trivia itself. Fun bonuses: he's surprisingly funny for a moon-faced Mormon boy (I laughed out loud several times). He also embeds trivia clues throughout the normal text of the book with answers at the end of each chapter.

I never realized how trivia had eked its way into our every day existence until I started reading this book. I'm listening to classical music on one of our cable music channels right now, and guess what runs at the bottom of the screen every 30 seconds? Trivia! And, because of my recent shining to Jeopardy! I have a trivia question for you that I discovered all on my own in the last week: "What US city is home to two of the top three most successful Jeopardy! champions?" Answer provided in next week's post. Feel free to buzz in anytime below in the comments.

The Neverending Story by Michael Ende ***

I think everyone finds tries to reincarnate something from their childhood as adults. It rarely works the way you think it will. That was my experience with this book. The Neverending Story was part of the film canon in the Buhler household (along with Amazing Dunks and Basketball Blupers and Tukiki - a movie about an eskimo boy who discovers the real meaning of Christmas), so you have a pretty good idea of what we were raised on.

The book and the movie follow each other almost verbatim until the climax of the movie. Remember at the end, where the narrator says something like, "Bastian had many more adventures in the land of Fantasia [known as "Fantastica" in the book] ... but that's another story"? Well, in the book, they go on to tell that part of the story. I thought I was going to be riveted, but I wasn't. Those stories weren't a part of my childhood memories, and I must really be an adult now, because I couldn't relate to them the way I could to Atreu and Falkor (who arch significantly in the book as opposed to the movie).

I found myself wishing I had just rented the movie off of Netflix and watched it again for my childhood fix. Though, now I can say that I'm one book closer to my 52 for the year, and I can say that I've finally read this book (Spoiler: without getting sucked into it ... sorry to disappoint).

Those of you who have been biting your fingernails at the lack of posts over the next few weeks ... I feel like I should apologize. But, I started this whole thing with the promise that it wouldn't become something I would have to apologize for. This goal (and thereby blog) are only a part of my life. And real life has been a lot more real lately than usual. So, no apology. I'll still make my quota for the year. And, that was the whole point.

Lucky by Alice Sebold ***

If you liked The Lovely Bones there's no guarantee you'll like Lucky. Instead of a novel, this is a real-life account (memoir, as it states on the cover) of Sebold's rape and how it affected her life. The first chapter is not for the faint of heart; after reading it at 10:30pm I found myself shaking with the fear of the reality of what I'd just read until 1:30am ... even tried the old "rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens, sparkle tights and Puma socks, brand new fleece blanket" trick and it didn't work for hours. But, the good news is, it gets better from there. As difficult as rape is to recover from (I honestly didn't realize how devastating this crime can be until I saw how it played out in the course of her life), Sebold's account is one of recovery and, if her story itself wouldn't be defined as "triumphant," her writing and publishing of it is, at the very least, courageous. She doesn't pull punches and the rose colored glasses come off. And I admired her for that.

There is just something about her writing style, even in this altered format, that pulls me in and absorbs me. I would say I would just read for 15 minutes and the next time I looked at the clock, I would be shocked to see 45 minutes had just flown by.

So, if you're not sure if you should read this or not, I would tell you: "Maybe." Read the first two chapters, and see how you like it. If not, put it down and count your blessings that this isn't your life. But if you need a reminder of how lucky you are, then read and give thanks.

A Tale of Two Cities *****

I am not liberal in my giving of five stars. I think this might only be the second of the year (the first being The Help). It received so many stars, because that's how many kleenexes I was required to use to get through the last several chapters. I will say this for all who are daunted by the thick, meandering, sometimes seemingly non-sensical sentences of Mr. Dickens: it all falls into place at the end. I would recommend a few things for those who have tried without success to read this book (I was one ... this was at least my third attempt) and who don't have an English-teaching husband to read it aloud with them, offer them little crumbs of clarity along the way when it gets too confusing, and to ask questions like, "Now what just happened?" anytime something significant does. Because I realize that Joel's expertise is a precious commodity. But, here are the recommendations:

1. Make a character list of everyone mentioned. You'll be surprised how many resurface throughout the story. Record just a little line of significance so you'll be able to follow them through their epic journey.
2. Don't use SparkNotes. I promise, you don't need them. As long as you're aware of the historical set-up, you'll have the background set and you can focus on the foreground of Dickens' characters. (Brief, over-simplified historical background: France is on the verge of the Revolution. England, whose revolution was relatively long ago is just relinquishing its empire in the New World to the United States ... begrudgingly. The two cities (I didn't get it at first ... no shame if you didn't either!) are London and Paris. The "pretty queen" mentioned in the first paragraph is Marie Antionette.) That should be enough to get the training wheels off.
3. Keep going. If you start to feel bogged down by the ins and outs of the story, keep reading. You'll remember more than you think you will, even if at times it does seem tedious. Don't stop - read steadily, at least a chapter a day. By the end you won't be able to put it down (except to get the kleenex box).

As we finished reading today, it was so gratifying. Joel said that reading Dickens is like doing a really difficult puzzle. It seems impossible at first, but if you just start going forward, by the end, every piece is where it needs to be, and you are so proud of yourself that you put it together. At the risk of sounding like a eulogy and a heavy-handed Dickensian wanna-be, but without wanting to give too much away, my final words are this: My heart will forever remember the seemingly insignificant character of Sydney Carton. Thank you, Joel, for not giving up on me, and for trudging in the mud with me until I was ready to run.

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest by Stieg Larsson ***

The least riveting of the trilogy for me ... Lisbeth, the main character, typically wily and sneaky, was left immobile in the hospital for almost the entire book. However, since it was originally designed to be one of a much longer series, I was satisfied with the many loose ends that were wrapped up. If it does end up being the last of his books that gets published (and there's apparently some debate over that), it's a good end of the series. I think the first one is still my favorite.

PASS 1/3

Referencing the rules outlined in my first post, I'm initiating my first of three passes for the year. I'm currently reading the last of the Stieg Larsson trilogy and it's just proving to be too much for me right now. Plus, Joel and I are reading A Tale of Two Cities, so I'm not slacking! Expect a double post next week, though not of both the books ... if you're confused now, you're in good company.

The Pearl by John Steinbeck ****

Now, you should know this about me first before we get started: John Steinbeck might be my favorite author, so I'm going to be biased. My first experience was with his short story, "The Red Pony" in the sixth grade. At the time, I remember being embarrassed that an assigned book made me cry-I didn't thing assignments were supposed to effect you like that. I was haunted by the endearing bond between the boy and his pony, and the heartbreaking loss of it. In fact, I think it stayed with me so long because it's the first time I remember reading a story where the "hero" didn't make out with everything he always wanted in the end. But everything I've read by him since then has stayed with me in a similar haunting but beautiful way.

"The Pearl" is the fifth of his works I've read. I'm trying to pace myself to no more than one per year so I don't exhaust his library too fast. If there's one word I have for those dabbling in Steinbeck for the first time, it's this: savor. Don't read too fast. Don't be afraid to go back and re-read passages before moving on. "The Pearl" is no different, though I found it more challenging than some of his others to take slowly, because there seemed to be more action in this one. I wanted to pause and re-read his description of the way the light bounced off the early-morning motes in the air on the first few pages. But the fact that those motes were bouncing off a scorpion poised on a rope above the hero's baby ... I couldn't stop reading.

As I read, I couldn't help seeing it in my mind's eye as a silent movie (because language is oddly immaterial in this story). But more important than the visual (which was some stunning cinematography in my brain), was the music. Constant, ever-changing, subtle music. And I wish I knew more about music so I could have composed a fitting score. But instead, I just imagined what it might have sounded like ... and I already can't wait to read it again ... in a few years, of course.

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert ***

I enjoyed this book the way I feel like its author enjoyed a lush Italian dinner during her stay in Rome. The timing was perfect, the writing style went down easy, and I always felt like a nap afterwards. During a stressful time, there are few things you can hope for when you're looking for an escape like a good book.

Recommended to me by a friend, I took my (opposite from everyone else) standard approach to books that also have a movie counterpart: I saw the movie first; enjoyed it. Then read the book and was also able to enjoy it. I almost always find I enjoy the book better than the movie, and in this order, I'm still able to enjoy them for what they are. I don't feel like the movie misses anything, I just feel like the crevasses get filled in nicely - like pouring hot fudge over mounds of firm, rich ice cream. The vanilla by itself would be fine, but the hot fudge just makes it so ... delectable.

Regardless of your movie/book philosophy, I would recommend both to 1) girls, 2) over 30, 3) who have been through or know someone close to them who has been through a divorce, 4) who are looking for an escape. Gilbert basically gets to do what everyone wants to do who goes through a difficult time: leave everything behind and completely reinvent yourself. Her voice is so conversational, I found myself wondering how we weren't already friends in real life. But her experiences are so incredible, I kept forgetting I wasn't reading fiction.

Some of my favorite parts:

• "You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight."
• "Letting go, of course, is a scary enterprise for those of us who believe that the world revolves only because it has a handle on the top of it which we personally turn, and that if we were to drop this handle for even a moment, well--that would be the end of the universe. But try dropping it ... watch what happens."
• "Devotion is diligence without assurance. Faith is a way of saying, 'Yes, I pre-accept the terms of the universe and I embrace in advance what I am presently incapable of understanding.' "
• "Prayer is a relationship; half the job is mine. If I want transformation, but can't even be bothered to articulate what, exactly, I'm aiming for, how will it ever occur?"

The one part I couldn't get around (and the reason I don't feel like I can give it 4 stars even though I did really like it) is that I feel like her approach was ultimately selfish, even though she addresses this very issue in the book very articulately. Admittedly, I've never gone through a heart-breaking split on the heels of a messy divorce which happened right before September 11th, after realizing that my entire life wasn't where I wanted it to be. I don't mean to judge or sound harsh. It's just not something I can fully understand. Part of me wonders, Where was all this intention while you were building the life you didn't want? Those were choices you made too - even if the choice was to let someone else make the choice for you.

In the end, this tale of self-discovery is a wonderful read, it would just be a difficult reality despite the happy ending. And, since it's a non-fiction all those hypotheticals get thrown out the window.

Good to Great by Jim Collins *** / One for the Money by Janet Evanovich **

These are on my blog just because, between the two, I didn't have time to read anything else this week. Good to Great was for work. Incredibly well-researched, I found it educational and informative. Not a page-turner for everyone, I understand. But I enjoyed it for what it is: an analysis for companies who want to transition (or who must transition) from one to the other.

One for the Money was for a book club and chosen by a friend who is going through a divorce and wanted to read something light and distracting that would make her laugh. I did laugh. Once. And I gasped another time at an unexpected (spoiler) car bomb. But in between those glimpses of plot development, I was regaled with every shower, every meal, every outfit and hairstyle, every food pellet she gave her hamster over the 10 day course of the story. I like a little detail to feel connected to the character, but her methods seemed too frivolous. While I'm not in the mood for it now, at least I know where to go when I am.

So that's this week. Next week: Eat, Pray, Love.

The Girl Who Played with Fire by Stieg Larsson ****

I just barely finished reading this book in time to post tonight. What a ride! I continue to be intrigued by the original name of the first book, Men Who Hate Women. Lisbeth Salander, the main character of this one, is described as "the woman who hates men who hate women." And it's a spot-on label. This time, the obvious ways men hate women were apparent - the domineering, scheming husband at the beginning, the sex trade scandal. But there were also more subtle ways. The police detective Faste is a perfect example of a misogynist pig. The female detective, Modig is kicked off the case at one point (even though she's on the right track) when one of the higher ups gets his ego bruised by her findings. But then asked to work unofficially on it because it wouldn't look right to have her back on in light of everything. Typical. In many ways I think it shows that the way men demean women continues daily in very subtle ways.

Now, I'm a feminist in the sense that I believe women should have "the vote" and should be able to be educated and all that. I'm all for equal pay for equal work. So, yes, in that sense I am a feminist. I don't find myself worked up to the point that I feel I need to become politically active over the issue or anything. But, in many ways I feel like the feminist movement is obsolete. In so many ways women have reached equality to men. And in other ways I think it's okay for men to have things that they tend to be better at and women have things that they tend to be better at. But then there are times when I encounter an old boy's club, or someone makes a comment, and I realize that it's not over. We're not done. I still don't get paid as well as a man would in my position. I have a loving husband who is supportive, kind, and genuinely wants me to seek out fulfillment and happiness that both involve him, and are independent of him. I know not all men hate women. I just can't understand how anyone can just lump an entire gender into a category labeled "worthless." It doesn't make me angry. It just makes me confused. It seems so outdated and ludicrous.

Enough of my ramblings. The book was another really fast read, and I found the plot moved much more quickly than the first. Spoiler: the ending is such a cliffhanger, I'm counting the weeks until I'll be able to read the last one.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald ****

I know everyone reads this in high school, but since my husband is a high school English teacher, I've started to see the reasoning behind the books they used to assign us. I'm attempting to re-read the "Great American Classics" in an effort to better understand them (a little bit at a time, of course).

The Great Gatsby is a great novel. What fascinated me the most was the color scheme - it was so limited, that it begs attention. The main colors are gray, gold, white, and green. Now, other colors appear (smatterings of blue, pink and brown), but these colors appeared obsessively. I feel like Fitzgerald uses them to embody the main themes of the book.

Gold (or yellow) / White = very literally, the gold standard (ie, the American Dream). The people who come to Gatsby's parties, those whom he's trying to impress with his wealth, are almost always dressed in white. Gold-colored champagne flows, even the car he drives is a light yellow - almost a combination of these two colors..

Gray = the inability to attain this dream. The "valley of ashes" that they pass through to get to the city is inhabited by a man who will eventually lose everything of his and be the end of Gatsby. His person, his shop, the scenery that surrounds him is such a chalky gray that you have to stifle a sneeze just when reading those pages.

Green = also the American dream, but in this case, something very specific: Gatsby's object of affection and obsession, Daisy. After years of trying to make himself worthy of her approval, he earns the money that puts him right across the sound from her home. At night, he watches the green light attached to her dock the way some people watch a candle that's been lit in a vigil. At the very end of the book, Gatsby summons the ghosts of the first Americans who came searching for their dream - a green swath of land they could claim as their own. Green is definitely the color of hope and new life. Just make sure you secure a patch that's free of gray if at all possible.

I finished reading this book a few days ago and it's still sticking with me. I can't accept the idea that the American dream is not real, though we see it crumbling around us as the foreclosure rate goes up everyday. Ever out of reach ... seems like such a cruel trick. I guess what they don't tell you is that the American Dream is a coin with two sides. In order to rise to something great, you have to come from something humble. If you overestimate your greatness, you'll be returned to humble circumstances again. Maybe the Romans had it right with their wheel of fortune after all.

THE great American novel? I don't know about that. But it is definitely a great American novel - no doubt about it.

One Day by David Nicholls ****

I can best share my opinion by comparing it to the quotes on the front. First, Nick Hornby: "Big, absorbing, smart, fantastically readable." I agree with all of this except "big," and with that I disagree heartily. It's small ... quite small. It's the lives of two people observed through a pin-hole view of one day each year of their lives for twenty years. But it's fleshed out in such detail that it sucks you right through until you're fast-forwarded through to the next chapter. Sometimes things change just a little, sometimes they change a lot. Other times not at all. In this way it's fascinating and, yes, "absorbing".

The other quote is from PEOPLE magazine: "One of the most hilarious and emotionally riveting love stories you'll ever encounter." Since PEOPLE is ALWAYS about the drama in the same way a teenage girl thinks celebrities are SO intriguing, typical rule of thumb is to dial it back about 2 notches, and you have a pretty good picture of reality.

While my "Dex" and I have only been in each other's lives for a mere 15 years, I feel hesitant to compare our relationship to theirs. But it was a needed reminder at how someone can expand your life by their very presence ... and, the scary flipside, diminish it in their absence.

Our Town by Thornton Wilder ****

This is a classic for the stage, and having acted for eight years, I feel remiss that it's taken me THIS LONG to finally read this play. Especially when you consider that I was actually in one of Wilder's lesser known plays in the same pastoral vein, called "Happy Journey to Camden and Trenton." I was in the play in college, and only understood it when my director asked us all to close our eyes and imagine we were in a calm field. One of the characters was a tree, another a butterfly, another a stream that ran through the countryside, and another the sun that bathed everything in a warm, cleansing light. I know this seems out there for those who haven't read any Wilder, but after finally reading Our Town I FINALLY GET IT.

It's the simple things.

When all is said and done, at the end of your life, you may wish to return to the big moments in your life (births, weddings, etc.), but you will CRAVE the normal, everyday interactions that didn't mean anything at the time, but mean EVERYTHING in the end.

This play seemed particularly poignant as a dear friend of mine called with news that she and her husband were separating. After talking with her on the phone for an hour, I picked up the play to calm my nerves before falling asleep, and this line made me weep: "Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?—every, every minute?" I still get choked up.

So, read it. It's a short read, and it doesn't seem like you're reading anything for a while. But it will stick with you, I believe, until the end of your life. We all have so much to be grateful for, and so many moments every single day that are precious and sweet and fleeting.

Desirable Daughters by Bharati Mukherjee ***

I read this book on a recommendation from a friend who knows how much I love Asian literature. But, even though I'm not an Indian fiction novice, I still found myself on the outskirts of this very private Brahmin lifestyle described by the author.

I'm not sure if it's because of the affinity towards poetry by the main character's caste, but I found details - even urgent, important, plot-essential details - a little fuzzy around the edges, like a cloud you're trying to make the shape of before it evaporates, or a wave you see approaching the shore that's definitely going to be substantial (this one is going to really get us soaked)... and then it barely covers your feet. I found her circuitous routes of narration a little difficult to focus on. But I think all of this is a confirmation of the author's idea that the only way to truly understand Indian culture is to be a true Indian. And perhaps, it's all intended to mirror Indian culture - just when you think you've mastered it, it changes just a little bit so that you have to go back to the drawing board.

A pleasant diversion, though, and each time I opened the book I found it a sufficient escape from reality. Like. Not love, but not dislike, either.

Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson ****

I bought this book for Joel for Christmas about two years ago after hearing a story on the radio about it being published posthumously. It's only been in the last few months or so that I've seen it EVERYWHERE. Seriously everywhere I looked people were reading this book. Finally my friend Ashley invited me to read it for a book club, and that's the push I needed.

I really liked it. Compelling mystery, intriguing characters, and enough twists and turns to keep me guessing. I was almost turned off at the beginning with the financial talk, but Ashley assured me I had gotten enough out of the part I was sure was way over my head. Joel also advised me to remember that no one in the book talks like real people really talk. Once I was on board with that and got used to the Swedish references it went really quickly. It was high on shock value and I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the Millennium trilogy.

Page One

The average American reads one book a year. ONE BOOK!! Taking a tip from my English-teaching husband, who invented a challenge for himself to read 52 books a year, I decided a while ago to try to keep up. I've half-tried in the last couple of years, but haven't even come close once. Now, don't get me wrong - I'm an avid reader. Self-proclaimed bookworm, I'm one of those who always has a book in her purse, and I get through my fair share. But it's become obvious in the last few months (see list of books read thus far in the sidebar to the right) that if I want to do this, I'm going to have to buckle down and get serious. Enter blog, a.k.a. accounting mechanism. So, here are the rules:

1. My year begins tomorrow, September 19, 2010. Not following the Roman, Chinese, Jewish or lunar calendar, just my own.
2. I will report each Sunday night about the book read the previous week.
3. Three "passes" may be utilized during the one year period. These will only be used to give a reason for an incomplete weekly post; the 52 book rule stands firm, so I'll have to either read books simultaneously, or read a couple short ones to make up the difference.

I am ALWAYS looking for new books to read. If you have one you'd like to recommend, please don't hesitate to suggest it.

One note for the would-be blog follower: My weekly posts contain my impressions of the book. While content may be referenced in regard to my opinion of it, my intent is not to summarize or screen books for any particular set of values or expectations. I won't be informing you how many times the characters have sex, or on which page a certain swear is used. That's a different blog, not mine. This blog is my view, which I hope you find interesting. If you don't, I respect your right to differ in opinion ... but I hope we'll be able to remain friends. I'll try to keep the reviews spoiler free (wouldn't want to ruin the end of the Harry Potter series for you or anything), but I will give you fair warning if I find it is necessary for me to do so. I welcome your comments and suggestions - after all, that's part of why I'm using this as a blog instead of a spreadsheet!

And so it begins ...