It’s summer!
I don’t know about you but I think summer calls for more reading. PLEASURE reading. This past winter I had to pack many of my books in boxes while we installed wood flooring throughout the house and in my office/study. That project took much longer than we anticipated due to a crazy set of circumstances that forced us to pull out much of the new flooring in my office that was subsequently damaged during the installation of new bookshelves.
Nightmare.
Fortunately I had moved one of my bookshelves (fully stocked) into the bathroom during the construction so that I could at least have a small collection books within reach at all times. Never mind I had to climb over dresser drawers, suitcases, pillows and sheets to get to them. I’m a little crazy when it comes to my books. They’re like companions. I’m sure it has something to do with my childhood but that’s another story.
I’m curious about how you choose the books you read. I like to open a book and read excerpts. If the writing moves me, I purchase the book. I’m a lover of words. Depth. And laughter. I look for books that move me, both the narrative and the language.
Here are a few of the books I’ve enjoyed recently. Follow the links for more in depth reviews.
All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
I don’t know when I’ve been more enthralled with a novel. I had just returned from a trip to the wave-splashed coast of Brittany when I opened this book so the sound of crashing waves and the smell of the sea were very much with me as I read the story of Marie Laure who flees with her father to the walled citadel of Saint-Malo during the Nazis occupation of Paris. JR Moehringer, author of Tender Bar (another great read) says this: “Anthony Doerr sees the world as a scientist, but feels it as a poet.” That’s how I felt when I read this book.
Here’s a very short excerpt, a taste. The language in this book is simply stunning:
“How about peaches dear?” murmurs Madame Manec, and Marie-Laure can hear a can opening, juice slopping into a bowl. Seconds later, she’s eating wedges of wet sunlight.”
A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle
I read this book many years ago but I’m revisiting it now in preparation for my next trip to France. I like to immerse myself in the culture of a particular region before I arrive. I love what the author had to say about this piece of work in The Guardian. It really speaks to the writer in me:
“When we first moved to France [in 1987] I had the intention of writing a novel and had shared this great ambition with my agent, Abner Stein,” says Mayle. “But there was a problem: I found myself completely distracted – much more taken up with the curiosities of life in Provence than with getting down to work on the novel. The daily dose of education I was receiving at the hands of the plumber, the farmer next door, the mushroom hunter and the lady with the frustrated donkey was infinitely more fascinating than anything I could invent.”
And the excerpt … as much as I try to learn the language when I visit a foreign country so that I can at least attempt to communicate in the native tongue, I often find myself hopelessly lost in the speed and the dialect of that language once I arrive. Fortunately I have another language and it’s universal, I speak the language of food.
“We had been introduced to our new neighbors by the couple from whom we bought the house, over a five-hour dinner marked by tremendous goodwill on all sides and an almost total lack of comprehension on our part. The language spoken was French, but it was not the French we had studied in textbooks and heard on cassettes; it was rich, soupy patois, emanating from somewhere at the back of the throat and passing through a scrambling process in the nasal passages before coming out as speech. […] Fortunately for us, the good humor and niceness of our neighbors were apparent even if what they were saying was a mystery.”
Mama Makes Up Her Mind by Bailey White
I was first introduced to Bailey White (a former first grade teacher and master story teller) on NPR’s All Things Considered. I loved hearing her tell stories in her raspy voice, particularly around the holidays. This book is a collection of essays, memoir style. The first time I read Mama Makes Up Her Mind I was on a plane flying to Colorado. It was a long flight and it was back in the day when you viewed the in-flight movies on a pull down screen peeking over (and through) the heads of the passengers seated in front of you. I never watch the movies. I always read a book. This one had me laughing out loud; I couldn’t help myself. At the end of the movie I had people walking over my seat to write down the name of the book I was reading because laughter is contagious and they wanted some of that. A few months later I found the book on a bargain table in a bookstore in Georgetown. I purchased every copy. I knew I would be sharing this book with friends and I wanted to be sure I always had my own. I read it every summer.
from the book:
The other day Mama made up her mind she wanted some smoked mullet.
“Does this mean we have to go down to Rosey’s?” I asked.
“Yep,” she said.
Rosey’s is a tough juke joint on the edge of the marsh in an old fashioned part of Florida. Tourists don’t go there; they’ve got more sense. At Rosey’s you never know whether you’re drunk or not because the floors wave up and down anyway. The foundations are sagging. You can eat inside if you can take the smoke, or you can eat outside and throw your bones to down to some rough-looking pelicans who squat like vultures under the porch. Ernest Hemmingway went there once, but the atmosphere was too much for him.
The Light of the World by Elizabeth Alexander
Some of you may remember distinguished poet Elizabeth Alexander reciting a poem in honor of the inauguration of President Barack Obama. In the spring of 2012 she lost her husband to a heart attack four days after his fiftieth birthday. This book is both heart wrenching and soul stirring. Her love for this man and the magical relationship they shared is poetically rendered page after page after page. Meghan O’Rourke (Sunday Book Review, New York Times) says this: “The Light of the World touches on politics, race and the transformative nature of art, but mainly it is what’s become known as a grief memoir […] I think what we’re seeing here is something deeper and more useful: a desire to understand and give shape to an experience that defines us, an experience that is ethical and social in nature. How we grieve alone tells us something about who we are together. These books teach us that grief is not something merely to endure, medicate away or “muscle through,” but an essential aspect of life — even a kind of privilege.”
This book touched me deeply. There are so many beautiful excerpts I could share, it’s hard to choose. This is how she describes her husband Ficre:
“Nothing was out of place or excessive about him. He looked like one of several variations on an Abyssinian “type,” which is to say large, wide set eyes, broad smooth forehead, a particular luminosity to his brown color, a carved nose. But he was, of course, only himself. His voice, lilted across a pentatonic scale. “How are you?” D-sharp, C, G-sharp. There was chocolate in his voice, a depth, a bottom.”
And this:
“In all marriage there is struggle and ours was no different in that regard. But we always came to the other shore, dusted off, and said, There you are my love.”
Okay friends, I could go on and on but I’d love to hear from you. First, do you enjoy these ‘What’s She Reading?’ posts? And next, how do you choose books and what are YOU reading this summer?
18 thoughts on “What’s She Reading? (summer ’15)”
Like you, I find myself moving to novels, although for me, I may read 3 or 4 in the dark of winter or the light of this season in just a few days and then not read another for several months. ALL THE LIGHT WE CANNOT SEE was extraordinary. One, like you, I have a love affair with all things French and Brittany, in particular, and the World War !! time period. This was my January read. And the words were, as you might express them, words to be savored. And the story moving from Germany to France, from the past to the present, well, I said to a friend, I can’t put this down til I know the whole story; yet, I wanted to linger with each word picture the author painted…even the hard ones. Yes, poetry in words and the poetry that is life.
I love it that we share both a similar journey and a love of words.
P.S. I’m off to the kitchen to brew a pot of rosemary tea inspired by YOU!
You like to immerse yourself in the region before you arrive….. well…. I’ve found that through you speaking of France and your travels through there…. I’ve found myself gravitating again and again to David Lebovitz. I was laughing hysterically to his book “The Sweet Life in Paris.” I also loved your recommendations of “The Language of Flowers” and “Where’d You Go Bernadette?” It was such a nice reprieve to read books for pleasure. And I’ve found that I continue to delve and explore in this arena. I look forward to hearing more book recommendations from you. And I choose books from women I know, like, and trust! I figure that it’s more likely I’ll enjoy the book if they did too =)
Shirley, it comes as no surprise to me that we would enjoy the same books. I believe we have a very similar world view. For years (too many years) I placed pleasure reading on the back burner while I read books to deepen my teaching practice or learn a new skill set. And while I do not regret any of that, I feel as though I have a lot of catching up to do in the pleasure realm. Life is too short. So many books, so little time! Thanks for the feedback. I’ll keep these lists coming. xxoo
I am currently reading ‘All the Light We Cannot See’ and am enchanted by it. I have not read the Peter Mayle book, though have been aware of it forever, perhaps now would be a food time to remark it as a ‘to read’. I have a much loved and well used copy of ‘French Leave’ by John Burton-Race, which is a memoir/recipe book, detailing a year spent in France, cooking, learning and living. It has some excellent recipes and lots of talk with foody french people, I think you might like it Sue Ann X
Thank you, Penny, I’ll check out French Leave. I’m reading Picnic in Provence at the moment because I love the writer, Elizabeth Bard, and it’s fun to see where she is ten years later. The last one I read by her was Lunch in Paris. I think I read these books to prolong my trips! Before. During. And after. xxoo
I love that you treasure your books! Growing up, I dreamed of having a library in my home. Today, I have book shelves on many walls in my home. I love your list! I have been reading mostly on growth and development, nutrition, and other business related topics. I think a little reading strictly for “pleasure” may be in order! These all look wonderful, so perhaps I’ll just start at the top and see where it goes! Thank you for sharing!
I had the same dream, Cathy. I now have bookshelves in every room in my house, even the bathroom for a while, but still no ‘library’ to speak of so I collect photos of home library on Pinterest! xxoo
Wow, what a great selection of books. I love France, food, our senses so it was very evocative to read the sensuous and poetic excerpts! You really lured me in.
I haven’t read a novel for ages. I read cook books, I cook the recipes. I have 6 French cook books! I read business books about personal mastery and thinking and the latest issues in society.
It would be great to read a novel again! I might try All the Light we Cannot See. Thanks for the recommendations.
I have a feeling you and I would enjoy breaking bread together, Deb! xxoo
Oh how tempting all those titles sound! I remember that my Mum loved all of Peter Mayles books (were there at least two?) about Provence. This reminds me of Annie Hawes “Extra Virgin” that has been sitting in my book shelves unread for far too long. Thanks for reading Peter Mayle because now I am gonna read Annie Hawes! (lol)
I love that, Carina, and now I’m going to have to add that one to my list. xxoo
“How we grieve alone tells us something about who we are together. These books teach us that grief is not something merely to endure, medicate away or “muscle through,” but an essential aspect of life — even a kind of privilege.”
To be so lucky as to be able to say this, ““In all marriage there is struggle and ours was no different in that regard. But we always came to the other shore, dusted off, and said, There you are my love.”
I’m drawn to your first and last choices most of all. I read The Tender Bar and loved that, so it seems to be “in the family” of what I love. Was it a conversation we had? Or something I read about “permission to stop reading books” that has made me more brave about picking something up lately.
For awhile I felt this commitment to things I didn’t like and slogged through books … or stopped reading altogether … because I didn’t enjoy.
And, overall, I’m a better listener than page reader.
For me it was permission to stop reading business building (or brain building) books and to ‘return’ to what I love most about reading … immersing myself in the words of an exceptional writer and being seduced by the narrative. It seems to be a theme in my life lately: the return. Otherwise known as reclamation.
nice choices, sue ann. “all the light we cannot see” is on my current to-read list. i too absolutely love books about travel, but i tend to do the reverse. i read about a particular area, to reminisce about and remember fondly, AFTER i’ve returned from the trip.
have you read “a year in the world” by frances mayes? in her dedication she lists many people who inspired or assisted her, but she also pays tribute “to the forgotten new yellow panties and bra left drying on the rim of the hotel bathtub” and “to the suitcase that went to india.” (gorgeous writing from the author of “under the tuscan sun.”)
I knew you’d have a suggestion for me, April … fellow lover of words. Thank you. I can’t wait until you dive into All the Light We Cannot See. I’m going to make an express trip to the Boulder Book Store so that I can pick up A Year in the World for my flight home.
P.S. I read my first Kindle book yesterday. Provence in Ten Easy Lessons by Peter Mayle. I figured I had to start ‘practicing’ so that I can save the ‘weight’ in my suitcase for olive oil and sundried tomatoes. xxoo
Sue Ann, these sound like wonderful reads. PLEASURE reading, yes — even the grief memoir for its stunning wordage. Thanks for your recommendations! I snuck in some pleasure reading while I stayed with my Mom (an avid reader) — “Scarlett” (the sequel to Gone With The Wind) and brought home Shakespeare’s Sonnets to re-read later. xo
I always love to hear about what you’re reading.
Hmmm… I’m not sure how I choose books. Somehow they always call to me, either through a recommendation from a friend or an intriguing book cover or a quick glance through the pages.
What I Talk About When I Talk About Running arrived in the mail today. It’s one of those books that I’ve heard several people rave about. It’s time. 🙂