Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

The winner of the Pulitzer Prize in 2005, Marilynne Robinson's Gilead is a novel to read slowly and to savor every step of the way. A brief plot description really cannot do it justice, but here is an attempt:

This whole novel is a long letter written by the Reverend John Ames to his 7 year old son in 1954. The Reverend is writing "his begats", as the boy's mother tells him, and what the young boy doesn't yet understand is that his 76 year old father, who married very late in life, is writing down everything he wishes he had the time to tell the boy as he grew into adulthood. Ames has been told by his doctor that his heart condition has deteriorated, and he does not have long to live.

What follows is a very beautiful account of Reverend Ames's life and poignant explanations of his values and beliefs and how he arrived at them. We follow the Ames family history through three generations of preachers: Ames's grandfather who sermonized that violence was an acceptable way to end slavery; Ames's father who preached pacificism and peace, and Ames, himself, who puzzled his way through a middle ground between these two men he admired and a third, his elder brother, who was a philosopher and an atheist.

In addition to Ames's touching exploration of his own family history, we also learn of the community in which he lives; his lifelong friendship with another minister whose prodigal son returns to town after a long absence and plunges Reverend Ames into unexpected conflict, and Ames's relationship with his wife, who is 35 years younger than he is and who appeared in town one day with no real explanation for who she was and where she came from.

In Gilead, Robinson has accomplished something remarkable. She has written a 237 page letter, with no chapter breaks, no dramatic plot devices, and just one point of view. This is the sort of experiment that could have either turned out incredibly boring for readers or extremely simplistic. But what happens instead, because of Robinson's artistry, is that we have a novel with many layers to it, very subtle but real development of many characters, and an overarching voice so natural that when you put the book down, you feel disappointed that Reverend John Ames is a purely fictional creation rather than a real person.

The reviewer on Bookslut.com put the effect this book has on a reader very well:

"Gilead is a remarkable book, the language meticulous, the descriptions vivid, and the story complex and unique. Marilynne Robinson has again brought us a perfect novel, hard to get into at first, perhaps, for those who are daunted by a book-length letter, but utterly rewarding in its finish. This is a book to be treasured, kept and re-read from time to time, flipped back through for its magnificence and simple grandeur."

For me, the ultimate test of a Great Book is just that: it is one that you can flip through at random, over and over again, and each time you come away with something new, something valuable, something beautiful. Gilead is a Great Book.

The Book of Other People ed. by Zadie Smith

The Book of Other People is a good book to dip in and out of, as all books of short stories are. This book is interesting because it contains 23 stories by different authors, all currently writing everything from traditional novels (Nick Hornby) to comics (C. Ware). Zadie Smith, a very talented novelist in her own right, asked all of these authors to write and donate a new story for this anthology as a fundraiser for the organization 826 New York. All royalties and proceeds from the book go to 826 New York. The only criterion for these stories was that the writers "make somebody up" so the stories focus on character. Other than that there were no rules.

826 is an organization dedicated to helping kids with their writing absolutely free of charge through after school tutoring, writing workshops on weekends and during the summer, and by participating in writing programs in the local schools. There are 7 chapters of 826 in major cities across the country, including Seattle.

As Zadie Smith describes The Book of Other People in her introduction, "...The Book of Other People represents real people making fictional people work for real people--a rare example of fictional people pulling their own weight for once."

The Other by David Guterson

David Guterson is not my favorite writer, but I always read his books because they usually have a good plot device and he asks interesting questions in them. His latest book, The Other, has his usual interesting central plot: it follows the friendship of two young men, one wealthy and one working class, as they become adults. The wealthy kid rejects all his wealth and privilege and, after staging his disappearance, carves a cave out of granite on the Olympic Peninsula and lives there seven years as a hermit. The working class kid, who enables and helps his friend, lives a typical suburban life as a teacher with a family. The novel also has the interesting questions typical of a Guterson novel; this time it is about loyalty and the choices we make as we live our lives. Is it better to live out one's ideals in the purest sense--as the hermit tries to do--or is it better to learn to compromise in order to live within the world we inhabit--as the teacher tries to do?

Despite these two key elements, I found myself impatient with this novel and easily distracted by other things while reading it. There are a few reasons for this, I suppose. First, the philosophy espoused by John William, the character who becomes the hermit, was so similar to the philosophy espoused by the real life Christopher McCandless in Jon Krakauer's Into the Wild, that I couldn't get McCandless out of my mind. Second, Neil Countryman, the narrator, is telling us the story of his relationship with John William as he is exploring the idea of writing a book about John William. As I read Guterson's novel, I kept thinking that Neil Countryman would need a good editor for his fictional memoir because there are lengthy passages in the book that I just wanted to skip through, particularly near the end. The transitions between Countryman's own life story and his narration of John William's experience are sometimes tough to follow. And, finally, (this shows how distracted I was) I kept wondering if readers who don't live in Seattle would find all the many, extremely specific place references irritating. As someone who has lived here a long time, I find it nice to be able to envision the places he refers to, but Guterson doesn't do this in a way that might really offer readers unfamiliar with Seattle a sense of place.

So, there it is. My goal in this blog is to focus on offering recommendations to readers for books I hope they will pick up and enjoy, but this time I have mixed feelings about the book. If you have been a fan of Guterson's other works, then you will probably enjoy this one. If you have not read any of Guterson's work, then I would recommend Snow Falling on Cedars rather than The Other. I appreciate much about The Other, but at the same time, I probably won't rush out to read his next novel.

The Open Road by Pico Iyer

The Open Road: The Global Journey of the Fourteenth Dalai Lama by Pico Iyer is not a biography of the Dalai Lama or even a memoir of Iyer's experiences with the Dalai Lama, though sometimes there is a little of both in the text. Iyer explains the purpose for his book early on: "...I was intrigued by the quiet revolution [the Dalai Lama] was promulgating, challenging us to see politics, globalism, celebrity itself, in a larger and more spacious light, and I was interested to examine all the challenges and questions his experiments entailed."

Pico Iyer is in a good position to do this. He was first introduced to the Dalai Lama a teenager by his father, himself a philosopher. For 30 years, Iyer--who is not himself a Buddhist--has visited with the Dalai Lama and has occasionally followed him on his travels around the world. Through this relationship with the Dalai Lama and open access to those who surround him, including family members and long time aides, Iyer offers a fascinating view into the extremely complicated world the Dalai Lama inhabits as both a politician and a spiritual leader of a nation in exile.

Iyer's book is fascinating because he is writing as a non-Buddhist for general readers who may not understand much about the Dalai Lama's role as a monk and god incarnate of his people. He also very clearly explains the political dilemma of the Tibetan people, some of whom are living in a re-created Tibet in Dharamsala, India, with the Dalai Lama, and some of whom are still living in Chinese occupied Tibet. After reading this book, readers will see how these intertwined elements of Tibetan culture complicate their overall situation and how much exhausting work the Dalai Lama engages in every day as he tries to be both a political and spiritual leader for his people. Politics and religion so often seem either mutually exclusive or mutually destructive, and the Dalai Lama works every day for a balance between the two.

The Dalai Lama himself is an incredible figure. He is, always, a humble monk, but one who sees it as imperative to engage with the larger global community. This is not just to bring attention to the occupation and destruction of his country, but it is also because he believes that only through globalization will humanity find peace and respect for life. He doesn't only talk about walking the "middle path", but he also practices it. He keeps one foot in the ancient origins of his culture and religion and the other in a modern world of science and technology. He believes we can attain enlightenment from whatever religious tradition we espouse (he does not encourage people to leave their religious foundations in order to "convert" to his), but says that being overly dogmatic can also inhibit us from becoming our best selves. He is a political leader who consistently exhorts his people to depend on their democratically elected parliament and prime minister to lead them rather than himself.

I leave this book feeling much more educated about a person and a people who I thought I knew something about. After reading it I realized that what I knew about the Dalai Lama was mainly based on a sort of bumper sticker education. I had read quotations from his books and speeches; I had seen the "Free Tibet" signs; I had watched Seven Years in Tibet, but what I truly understood was just the tiniest bit of a very large and very complex picture. At least I knew that the Dalai Lama is a crucially important voice in our ever more disrupted world...but now I have a sense of why.

Spotlight on Gorgeous Prose

There are some novels that go beyond prose; they are so beautifully written that they have the same effect upon the reader that a poem might. As you read, you want to stop often and re-read and savor sections just to "hear" again in your mind what the language sounds like. Sometimes the writer of such novels is able to combine lovely language, vivid settings, and complex characters in such a perfect way that it is tempting to turn right back to the first page and start all over again within minutes of finishing the book the first time around.

Here is a very short list of such novels:

The Hours by Michael Cunningham
Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier
The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
The English Patient and Anil's Ghost by Michael Ondaatje (I realize I'm on a little Ondaatje kick right now.)
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Anil's Ghost by Michael Ondaatje

Michael Ondaatje first came to international attention with his gorgeous novel, The English Patient, which won the Booker Prize. It cannot be easy for a writer to follow up on such acclaim, but with Anil's Ghost he does just that. And though the two novels are vastly different in scope and subject, Anil's Ghost is as lovely, thought provoking, and unforgettable as the first.

Anil's Ghost takes place in Sri Lanka during the early 1990s in the days following the "emergency" (read civil war) of the late 80's. Anil Tissera is a young Sri Lankan expatriate who has returned to the island after being educated abroad. She is a forensic anthropologist sent by an international human rights group to investigate disappearances and organized murders perpetuated by the government against citizens thought to be involved in one of two anti-government insurgent groups. Anil is assigned by the "cooperative" Sri Lankan government to work with an archeaologist, named Sarath Diyasena, who may or may not be sympathetic with her work.

The story centers around Anil's and Sarath's investigation, so there is a mystery at the heart of the novel, but Ondaatje gracefully weaves the stories of other characters into it as well. For every clue the scientists uncover as they build a case against the government, we learn of the human cost of civil war on the families of the victims, on the doctors who treat them, on the fabric of a society torn apart by fear and mistrust. The incredible thing about this novel is that while the story is often heartbreaking, Ondaatje offers it to us honestly and with a forthrightness that is never grotesque or hard to bear.

In fact, the novel is very beautiful despite its subject matter. Ondaatje, who was born in Sri Lanka, has a keen sense of place and it is vividly shown in Anil's Ghost. As we follow Anil and Sarath from one part of the island to the other in their search for truth, we catch glimpses of a landscape that still has pockets of its original beauty. We learn of the ancient culture and values of a land that has not always been embroiled in bloodshed. There are passages so lovely they beg to be immediately re-read and thought about. The novel is one that, after the first reading, can be opened at random points and read again, each small section adding another layer of meaning for the reader.

The many layers of meaning in this novel are best symbolized by the title itself. The question for the reader is: who is Anil's Ghost? Or what is Anil's Ghost? As I read the novel I had one idea, then I re-read sections to try to prove this idea to myself. But those new readings added different ideas. I think now, after looking at it from a few different angles, I have my definite answer to the question of who or what Anil's Ghost is....

(...0h, you didn't think I'd tell you, did you?)

Amy and Isabelle by Elizabeth Strout

Amy and Isabelle is one of those novels that I probably wouldn’t have thought about checking out of the library because there are so many more compelling books on my to-read-next list. The first sentence in the dust jacket reads, “With compassion, humor, and striking insight, Amy and Isabelle explores the secrets of sexuality that jeopardize the love between a mother and her daughter….” Okay. Fine. But, as teenagers are another topic I tend to avoid reading about—trying to put off the inevitable as long as possible with my own little kids—the dust jacket was not very inspiring. So, why did I give it a chance? Because of Nancy Pearl.

Nancy Pearl, for those of you outside of the Seattle area, is the biggest rock star the library world has ever produced. She is the only librarian, as far as anyone knows, who actually has her own action figure. Nancy Pearl, former Seattle librarian, is to book recommendations what Bill Gates is to computers, and on the radio the other day, Nancy Pearl mentioned Amy and Isabelle. And Nancy Pearl said that the writing in this book is absolutely excellent and that it contains within it one of the worst, most despicable characters she has ever encountered in literature. So, naturally, I went straight home and put Amy and Isabelle on hold at the library and got it a couple of days later.

I couldn’t put it down. Nancy Pearl was right about this one. Elizabeth Strout takes a story that could be told (and has been) a hundred different ways, and makes it original, utterly compelling, and gives us characters who are so real they could live down the street. She pays loving attention to even the most minor characters, and that is the mark of a well rounded novelist.

There are many themes in this novel, but the one that stands out most is that no matter what appearances may “show” us about the people who surround us, particularly within our own families, no one can truly know how other people live and what they may be facing within their own private spheres of life. It is not an idea that is in any way new, but it is one that we all benefit from being reminded of every now and again.

The Geography of Bliss by Eric Weiner

The full title of this book is The Geography of Bliss: One Grump's Search for the Happiest Places in the World, and that is exactly what the book is about. After years of reporting stories from the world's war zones and the unstable political climates of developing countries, Eric Weiner, a self-admittedly unhappy person, wondered what he would find if he spent a year traveling to some of the world's happiest places. Would he find out what the key elements are to happiness? Would he return a changed person after having observed the cultures that produce happy people? Would he be able to offer a prescription for attaining contentment?

This is one of those books, with a super-catchy title that I'm normally wary of for fear that I'll be wasting my time on empty calories, but I truly enjoyed it. There is certainly a lot of breeziness in the writing, but if I was initially skeptical of this book, Weiner shows us that he, too, is rather skeptical that he will really find anything on his tour. However, as he becomes more and more immersed in his search for the key elements of happiness, the reader is drawn in as well. Weiner writes with humor and not a little cynicism, but as he travels from the happiest countries (The Netherlands and Iceland among them) to the most unhappy country in the world (Moldova), he offers some excellent insights into what elements of life contribute the most to any person's sense of well being and happiness. It's a timely book. Considering the heaviness of the headlines these days, it was a pleasure to read something on the positive end of the spectrum for a change.