Water for Elephants — Review by Chris

When Tower Records (and books!) was closing and the books were selling for next to nothing, I took the opportunity to purchase a couple of books that had sounded intriguing. Water for Elephants was one of them. I put it on my nightstand with every intention of reading it soon. Well, 16 months later, I decided it was about time.

All I can ask myself is, Why did I wait that long?

It was a fabulous, compelling book I am glad to recommend.

The novel starts out with a scene that grabbed me from the first. A personal disaster is swept aside in a second due to a bigger and badder disaster. One would think threat to life and limb would trump pretty much anything. Well, read the Prologue to find out just how little personal disaster matters in the face of true terror.

And it goes on from there.

Water for Elephants is a rich, haunting story that pulls no punches. Author Sara Gruen deftly weaves an intricate tapestry of heart-stopping action, grief beyond comprehension, love that challenges society, innocence beyond modern understanding, abysmal despair, confusion and disappointment — all wrapped in a story that refuses to unhand the reader under any circumstance.

While the action is captivating and compelling, the characters are what make this such a memorable book. The central character is Jacob, whom we meet at both the beginning and the end of his life. Jacob the elder and Jacob the younger start out as separate characters who slowly merged into a single person.

As a youth who suffers a heartbreaking loss, Jacob the younger faces life in America during the Depression, where a Cornell education is worth only as much as the food it pays for. Almost immediately, however, readers meet Jacob the elder, an ancient man who can more easily recall his life in a third-rate circus than the faces of his extended family members. Both Jacobs are pretty much living in the same moment — especially when the circus sets up next door.

Jacob's tales weave together well. As Jacob's life progresses in the assisted living center, so does the story of his youth. His life and memory unfold deliberately and richly, and readers learn what took Jacob to (and back to) that heart-stopping scene. At the same time, readers begin to recognize Jacob as he sees himself — and the man we see is not the liver-spotted, slow, cranky man who does not recognize himself in the mirrors he refuses to use.

I truly enjoyed Gruen's circus characters: the train (which is a character itself), the castes and camaraderie, their treachery and kindnesses, their unfolding relationships. I thrilled at the exciting scenes and forced myself to continue reading when animals appeared to be in pain or face frightening situations. I was moved by the desperation and friendships that created situations in which people chose actions they would not otherwise consider. I also discovered how little people have changed in three-quarters of a century.

Gruen did not sentimentalize animals, but the affection and respect she showed them on the page — and how the characters treated them in kind — is central to the novel. I have to admit, I feared I might not be able to read the book because I am extremely sensitive about animals. I could read it, but it certainly was no walk in the park (or circus).

The scenes in the assisted living center were very stirring. Those whose bodies turn them into witnesses, rather than actors, provide intimate details and information about the situations and the people around them. I was moved by the sadness and lack of dignity in the life of an eldery man whose soul is literally saved by an unexpected kindness. I was very touched by those who, despite their own situation, could (and did) summon the patience to see beyond the anger and hostility to the person beneath it all.

I am glad I read Water for Elephants and I can see why so many people have read it. I hope you are one of them; if not, I hope you will be soon.

The City of Dreaming Books — Review by Chris

Book lovers can delight in a novel that lets them enjoy everything about the world of writing, from the spark of an idea to the crumbling pages of an ancient tome. The City of Dreaming Books is all that, and more.

The book begins with a challenge from the narrator: if you're up for a thrill ride, come along. Otherwise, you cowards, put down this book and go get something tame and manageable. Who can resist such a challenge? Certainly not me.

And so I ventured forth into Walter Moers' imagination. Boy, am I glad I did! For anyone who loves books, it is a fabulous read, full of book-love, adventure, surprises, wonderful characters and page after page of books.

I will add one caveat: it feels like a long read. So much happens that one feels as though it never will end. However, that is not a bad thing. We learn a lot, and the narrator offers enough asides to keep the reader in the know about this strange new world. It is rip-roaring fun, with enough adventure and enough occasional catch-your-breath moments that the pace is manageable.

Oh, and it's funny. Very funny.

Moers wrote the book in German (though he notes it was translated from the original Zamonian by him), so it feels a little heavier than a book originally written in English — but by no means is it cumbersome and dense. It's weighty, but one cannot experience Bookholm and all it offers any other way.

Moers does not introduce any frivolous material. Everything he puts in the book is important, from Optimus' reading of The Catacombs of Bookholm to a description of the streets and buildings of the city.

Optimus Yarnspinner, the authorial godson of Dancelot Wordwright (author of The Joys of Gardening), is at the bedside of the dying writer when Dancelot reveals a secret. No, not that he still sees himself as a cupboard full of dirty spectacles, but of the existence of the perfect manuscript. Upon reading it himself years ago, Dancelot told this anonymous author to go straight to Bookholm, the book and publishing capital of Zamonia, and have it published right away. Unfortunately, he never heard from the author again.

Dancelot tells Optimus to read it, but to not despair — use the manuscript as a launching point for his own life and literary ambitions. Optimus is a dutiful godson, and he does just that. And his life is never the same. After reading the manuscript, he packs a rucksack (thankfully after putting down his jelly sandwich) and heads straight to Bookholm to find this talented writer.

Bookholm is a wonderful, chaotic, frenetic, lovely place devoted to all things bookish, especially for Optimus, a writer who has yet to publish anything. It's like Manhattan, only Zamonian, and a joy to visit with Optimus.

Along the way, Optimus encounters a few booksellers to whom he shows the manuscript. They order him home directly (though the Ugglian can't help but prophecy about his fate). An agent directs him to the most respected antiquarian bookseller in the city. With calling card in hand, Optimus approaches Pfistomel Smyke's bookshop in the heart of the city.

The story doesn't end there. If anything, it accelerates, becoming even more interesting and entertaining (which is hard to believe, considering the book's strong beginning).

One of the best things Optimus does for his readers is discuss The Catacombs of Bookholm, a memoir by the most famous of Bookhunters, Colophomius Regenschein. It's fascinating, and you'll be glad you paid attention.

In the end, as The City of Dreaming Books comes to a close and you read every single page to the end (which you must, every single page, trust me!), you'll quietly savor the book for a moment before packing your rucksack like Optimus himself did and setting out for Bookholm. (Hopefully someone will be on hand to stop you before you venture too far afield.) Having been thwarted in that endeavor, you'll instead start seeking the Orm yourself and create something for the Fearsome Booklings.

Now, log off your computer this very moment and go get The City of Dreaming Books. You can thank me later.

Julia's Chocolates—Review by Carole

Julia’s Chocolates by Cathy Lamb has a quirky cast of characters whose interactions, comments, and situations made me alternately laugh out loud and shake my head. Lamb combines truly tragic circumstances with strong characters to shows us how people can find the best in themselves and in each other.

And when I say tragic, I’m talking about physically abusive relationships involving women and children, drug and alcohol addiction, shamefully neglectful parents, and cruelty to animals. When you read the name and see the cover, you think that maybe you are in for a light romp of a read, but Lamb deals with some heavy stuff.

Granted, her approach may be too light handed for those who really like to dwell in dark places, but as my sister-in-law pointed out, “In books, I like the bad guys to be really bad, and I like my good guys to be really good.” Lamb achieves this in Julia’s Chocolates. There is no doubt who the bad folks are, and you know who you are rooting for from the very beginning.

Julia flees to her Aunt Lydia’s house after running out on her abusive fiancé. She is broken in many senses of the word. Her aunt represents all that she knows of stability in a life that has seen more neglect than affection.

Aunt Lydia is a force of nature who pushes and pulls those around her to get them to do what she thinks is best for them and all others concerned. She holds weekly get togethers for a group of women friends who are all troubled in one way or another—When Julia joins the group for the first time, her face still sports the technicolor bruise her fiance gave her just before the wedding. She joins the groups for Breast Power Psychic Night.

When I got to this part of the book, I thought, “Oh, boy, here we go. Another book from an ardent feminist’s point of view, making characters act in ways that real women never would.” (Annie G Freeman’s Fabulous Traveling Funeral is a classic example of the worst of this genre.) In this case, though, the characters do not want to be in these situations—they simply fall under Aunt Lydia’s power of personality and do what she tells them to for their own good. The results are often hilarious.

To give you some insight into Aunt Lydia, I pulled this from the book:

"'Breasts have a lot to say, Julia, you simply have to listen to them,' says Aunt Lydia, lover of giant ceramic pigs, poker, chickens, and pink houses with black doors to ward off evil spirits and seedy men."

During Getting to Know Your Vagina Night, Aunt Lydia says to one of the women, “Katie, let’s start with you.” To which Katie replies, “Oh, please God, no!” I think I would respond in much the same way. In conjunction with the evening’s theme, Aunt Lydia serves tacos and strawberry daiquiris, and I may never look at either of these things the same again. Suffice it so say, that, while a funny element in the book, I was glad my sister-in-law didn’t serve these when she hosted book club!

For those looking for gritty realism, you might find some of what you are looking for here, but I think you would ultimately be disappointed. Instead, you’ll find a world where the good people in a town band together against the people who would do harm to those who cannot protect themselves. It’s the way we want to believe our communities would pitch in to help neighbors in true need. I know that I like a little dose of this message now and again.

So, if you do too, indulge in some chocolate while you read this satisfying novel and let me know what you think.