Review: A Slant of Sun by Beth Kephart

The journey into parenthood is always accompanied by surprises. Children never read the handbooks that purport to explain them or offer advice about raising them. And that's just for kids who fit firmly into the herd of "normal." How much harder is it to parent a child who doesn't fit this definition? Beth Kephart's son Jeremy was very young when he was diagnosed with pervasive developmental disorder (not otherwise specified). As her oldest (only) child, Kephart and her husband had no other frame of reference with which to compare Jeremy's behaviour (screaming and terror around strangers, echolalia, obsessive fixations, and an almost autistic retreat into his own world) but it eventually became clear that Jeremy's behaviour was different and warranted examination.

The diagnosis of PDD (NOS) was not a blessing since there was no reliable and proven method for helping these kids or their parents cope with the behaviours and eventually ease the kids into a childhood not marked by difference and struggle but one of normalcy and celebration. This book is Kephart's memoir of trying to do just that for her special boy. She chronicles the uncertainty before the diagnosis, her feelings of failure as a parent, the sense of inadequacy in understanding Jeremy, guilt over possible sources for his disorder, and her fledgling attempts at both recommended therapy and the self-designed therapy that she knows in her heart to be the correct way to reach her little guy. This book chronicles quite a journey, made in fits and starts, with progress and regressions, but all focused on helping Jeremy fit into the world as it is.

It is clear in the writing in this book that Kephart is a poet. The stunning turns of phrase and the juxtaposition of images all point to poetry. She has captured and shared raw emotion, love, frustration, anger, joy, desperation, grief, and confusion in these pages. She lovingly details Jeremy and who he is without sugar-coating the difficulty of having such an undefinable child. This book will not provide a road map for other parents of children with PDD(NOS) because there is no such road map out there. Each child is unique, hence the catch-all diagnosis. But what it does provide is hope and a pervading sense of the power of love. There is a grace here in these words and a deep love for her son. Over all, the narrative is chronological but there's a dreamy feel to it thanks to the descriptive and emotional language. This may stymie some readers and those who are searching for a straightforward account could stumble over the style. But there is much to be gained by reading this account of the grace found in parenting a different, sometimes difficult child, even for those of us who have never faced obstacles like this.

Winners and an apology from your delinquent blog owner

First of all, why did no one e-mail me and light a fire under my butt about this giveaway?! You all are too darn polite. I completely forgot when I had said the giveaway for The Lonely Hearts Club would end and have blithely been going about my business thinking that it didn't end for at least another couple of days. I live with my head in the clouds, don't you know? So I apologize for being so delinquent in drawing the winners now that I actually checked and see that I called the giveaway closed as of Feb. 1 and promised to post the winners on Feb. 2. ::sigh:: Next time I'm such a colossal failure, someone speak up and save me from myself, will you? So, days late, here are the winners compliments of Random.org:

Dannie
Beth (BBRB)
Beth

The three of you should check your e-mail (and especially your spam filters) for an e-mail from me. I'll understand if you procrastinate horribly but know that it only slows down you getting your shiny new book from the wonderful people at Big Honcho Media. And don't you think I've slowed you down enough already?!

Sunday Salon: The Forbidden List of Topics

I have a whole file of ideas for things to write about in my Sunday Salon posts. And yet not a one of them appeals to me today. I even have 3/4 of a Sunday Salon post written and that didn't speak to me either. I'm starting to think I should rename the file "The List of Forbidden Topics." Most of you are probably shaking your heads or wondering about the hyperbolic melodrama contained in that but let me explain the long and illustrious history. I used to belong to a fantastic book club when we lived in Ohio. It was called the Eclectic Book Group and it met at the local Barnes and Noble. The people were fantastic. We read from almost every section of the bookstore. And we had interesting and informative discussions. I still miss it almost five years later, can you tell?

One of the most endearing things the group had though, was a list of "Forbidden Books." This list was started because we had a general rule of thumb about reading only paperbacks. Hardbacks are just awfully expensive and since we were fairly adventurous, splashing out with that kind of money for a complete gamble was not terribly appealing. So when someone really wanted to read a book with the group that was only out in hard cover, we would add it to the list. The list came out at many a meeting when we discussed the next book choices. We'd read through the books we had collectively placed on there, really, really, really wanting to read them, enough so we noted them in order to jog out memory a year later when the title was released in paperback. And then we inevitably chose something not on the list. The list continued to grow and grow and grow. It never shrunk (sort of like my tbr piles or my wish list).

Finally, after one book nominating session where the list made its usual appearance and was ignored again, my friend B.'s husband T. suggested that perhaps we should just be honest and call this "The List of Forbidden Books" since it was clear we were never actually going to read the books on the list no matter what our intentions. The name stuck. The list actually has some great books on it. I personally had read about 90% of the books on the list as it stood when we moved away. I'm fairly certain the list is alive and well in the group to this day. I'd love to see what titles are on it now and whether I've read them or not. I'd also love to know if they are better about choosing off the list now or if the books on there still suffer the same fate they did five years ago. Oh, we did read a book off the list once when we declared it List of Forbidden Books month. I no longer remember what the book was but I know we all got a kick out of breaking with tradition and liberating it from dusty obscurity on our tattered piece of paper.

So my list of Sunday Salon topics will hang out in their file in case there comes a Sunday when I just can't think of a topic. Until that time, they will officially be re-named The List of Forbidden Topics and be snubbed week after week after week. And maybe one of these days I'll make it back to visit one of my favorite book clubs ever although now that they've finally purged me from the e-mail list, I'm not sure I'm allowed. Maybe I've become the forbidden former member!

Review: Barely a Bride by Rebecca Hagan Lee

A Regency-set historical romance featuring a marriage of convenience is nothing new. A hero who has sworn not to marry until duty forces it of him is also nothing new. A heroine who is unlike the other girls of the ton, wanting to have the freedom to pursue her own interests is, you guessed it, still nothing new. And yet Lee has managed to create a rather charming story with these common elements.

Griffin and his cronies at school formed the Free Fellows League vowing to not only stay unmarried as long as possible but to never let a wife interfere with their desire to serve their country or to worm her way into their hearts. To this effect, they drew up a contract and each signed it. Fast forward years to a short time after Griffin has accepted a commission in the Guard to go and fight Napoleon. His father, the Earl of Weymouth, demands that he marry and at least attempt to sire an heir before he goes off to be shot at. Griffin gives in to this request unwillingly but he eventually meets and appreciates Alyssa, the youngest daughter of the Earl of Carrington, who is completely uninterested in marriage and all its trappings. Alyssa just wants to be left in peace to design and care for gardens but her parents are determined to marry her off. She and Griffin have an immediate attraction. She has no objection to the idea of her new bridegroom heading off to war and he has a large neglected garden in need of rejuvenation. A match just waiting to be made. A large part of the book deals not only with the two of them getting to the altar, but also with them learning all about each other in the brief space of their two week marriage. They find that they have been serendipitous in their choice of each other both in terms of physical attraction but also in their similar thinking. And then Griffin goes off to war, experiences the horrors he never imagined, and realizes that he only wants to go home and love and be loved by his wife. But love was never in the bargain they made.

It was refreshing to read a story where the conflict between the characters was not an issue of misunderstanding or lack of communication. And although neither character wants to admit to their love for the other because of the Free Fellows' pledge (which Alyssa is not supposed to know about but does), their hearts are always obvious. The Free Fellows' League was a bit of a silly conceit but perhaps there's more substance to it in the following two books of the trilogy. Also, the charter itself was a bit sophisticated in understanding for boys of their age and would have been more likely to come from almost teens but that's a negligible complaint. I was pleased to see that the villain in this book was not a cut and dried villain and one who did not wish either the hero or heroine bodily or emotional harm and who actually turned out to be a decent guy. The fact that Lee neatly sidesteps many of the common plot devices found in Regency-set romances these days made this an enjoyable read.

Saturday Shout-Out

On my travels through the blogging world, I find many books that pique my interest. I always add them to my wish list immediately but I tend to forget who deserves the blame credit for inspiring me to add them to my list (and to whom my husband would like to send the bill when I get around to actually buying them). So each Saturday I'm going to try and keep better track, link to my fellow book ferreter-outers (I know, not a word but useful nonetheless), and hopefully add to some of your wish lists too.

The Gin Closet by Leslie Jamison was mentioned at Books and Needlepoint.

The One-Week Job Project by Sean Aiken was mentioned at Caroline Bookbinder.

Things to Make and Mend by Ruth Thomas was mentioned at The Indextrious Reader.

What goodies have you added to your wish lists recently? Make your own list and leave a comment here so we can all see who has been a terrible influence inspiring you lately.

Review: Twilight by Stephanie Meyer

I know, right? Two things. 1.) I am well aware that I am quite probably the last person on the planet to read this book and therefore you don't really need to hear my thoughts on the subject since you all have already read it yourselves and formed your own opinions which are unlikely to match mine. 2.) You certainly never thought you'd see me read this book (or maybe you just thought I'd never admit to it, former book snob that I am) but I like to be full of surprises. It would be a surprise if I liked the book, wouldn't it? OK, I'm not *that* full of surprises, folks. In simplest terms, I fail to see what is so appealing about this at all. Perhaps I went into this with a bad attitude, not liking vampires at all, being skeptical of any book dubbed "the greatest love story of all time" written in say, oh, forever. I was afraid it wouldn't live up to its hype. And before all the Twilight defenders either unsubscribe from the blog or leave nasty comments (you wouldn't do that, now would you?) let me say that even had this been a good book, it couldn't have lived up to the hype. Unfortunately, this was not a good book.

I read it for two reasons. I hate being out of the loop on books that are causing conversations all over the place, even in the non-book world. I have resigned myself to being out of the loop when people gush over the likes of Nicholas Sparks because I actually read one of those once and went into insulin shock while trying to wrench my emotions back from the blatant manipulation oozing through the treacle and well, I just can't tolerate another dose of Mr. Sparks as a result. But this one... I could overlook the vampire angle and give it a shot and join the conversation, right? The second reason I read it I've already discussed on here, the fact that the elementary school banned it from being brought in and read by students even during their sustained silent reading or whatever they call it these days. That, my friends, was the true call to arms because I could have procrastinated over reason #1 long enough for the whole thing to die away. But reason #2, well that needed immediate action.

And did I find anything objectionable in it that made it worthy of barring it from the school? Well, other than egregious writing, nope. Yes, I am sorry to say that it really is dreadfully written. And yes, I get that Ms. Meyer is laughing all the way to the bank and I am sitting in my freezing cold basement pounding out this quasi-review for no money whatsoever. As a matter of fact, right about now, my hands and feet would rival the ever cold Edward and family temperature-wise. The universe does love irony. But back to the writing. I'm sorry to say that I can't get over the stone and marble descriptors of Edward every time the poor reader is forced to encounter Bella in Edward's arms or kissing his cold lips. Go ahead and throw in the alabaster brow and get all the hideous cliches out of the way all at once. But see, Ms. Meyer doesn't just use these completely ridiculous descriptors once, she uses them every last time, throughout all 498 pages of this bloated, overdone piece of...teenaged entertainment. ::Ahem:: Trying to keep this rated PG and all. As if she didn't trust her readers to hold onto the important descriptions of her characters, we have Bella's clumsiness and Edward's beautiful, cold stoniness reiterated over and over again. Really, where was the editor with the red pen scratching things out?

As if the cliched, repetitive descriptions weren't enough, the reader is also treated with the cloying, facile character of Bella. "Oh. You're a vampire? Ok. I totally trust you not to kill me. And furthermore, please kiss me; I'm sure you'll control yourself and I want to touch your alabaster lips. Oh, and don't forget to swoop in and save me from my stupid self each and every time I decide to go off plot about something I know nothing about. Because I love you and will love you forever." Argh! This is the girl every teenaged girl wants to be right now? Sure, there are teenaged girls out there who are simple and naive. And there might even be some as simple, naive, and stupid as Bella is but I for one don't want to read about them. And as an author you can't create a character you tell us is amazingly smart and then have her be a complete and total nincompoop. Because you see, we stop believing your "telling" and believe your "showing" instead and start wishing that Edward would just shred the little ninny and put us all out of our misery. As for Edward, we never really do get a fully rounded picture of him since we see him through Bella's rose-coloured glasses all the time. But perhaps it's a blessing that we don't know him all that well. I can only imagine the extended passages of angst over him being bad for Bella that we'd have to read. Oh wait, we get to hear this very thing (repetitively) whenever he and Bella have almost any conversation. And while she's thicker than a block of wood about the danger of having a vampire interested in her, I, as a reader, am pretty smart, got it on round one, and didn't need to waste valuable reading time seeing the same argument over and over again.

I have read reviews by other people who thought that the picture of teenaged obsessive love was disturbing and the fact that Bella is forever a damsel in distress needing her vampire charming to come and save her was a blow to feminism and I appreciate these arguments. I even agree to some extent. But I'd venture a guess that much of this social and political subtext goes right over the heads of many of the intended audience. And those who do catch it are smack in the midst of a time of life where the drama of romance and love reign supreme. Do they care about the whiny, insufficiency of a character like Bella? Do they even notice? Would I have noticed if I had read this back then? I mean, who can tell with the teenaged psyche?

But despite the larger thematic problems, I still go back to the less than stellar writing showcased in this novel. It absolutely grated on my brain. Reading the dialogue aloud made me laugh, especially when it wasn't supposed to be funny. The descriptions were tired and modeled after the worst examples of the romance genre (this coming from a happy reader of romances). The characters were one dimensional and predictable. And the scenes that were meant to be revelations after a climatic build? Well, they were farcical. Sparkly vampires? Really? But assuming things like this, our author then conveniently ignores her set-up when they no longer suit the plot. If vampires sparkle, they must live in dreary, rainy, cloudy places like Forks. Not sunny places like Phoenix. When they get to Phoenix (by night of course), they hide out in a hotel room. Until, of course, they have to go to the airport. But their car has tinted windows, right? And apparently they used a Star Trek transporter to get into the airport from the car since no one noticed these creatures made up of diamond lights walking in their midst into the terminal. Likewise no one noticed these same creatures heading en masse to the dance studio to rescue our idiotic heroine again. It must have been one of those multiple rainy days for which Phoenix is well known, ya know, in order to maintain plot integrity and all. What plot integrity? My point exactly.

I do not understand the appeal of this book. I won't be going on any further, I will not see the movies. I will shake my head and try to keep my mouth closed on the topic unless directly confronted by someone over it. In short, I will respect that it is a publishing phenomenon and realize, once again, that I just don't get the general public. And in an effort to say something nice, I will say that I am exceedingly grateful that it was simplistic enough that it took under 3 hours of reading to finish a book of almost 500 pages. Do I weep for the trees that died to print this book? No, but I weep for the authors who are masters of their craft who deserve this kind of readership and yet lose out to something of this calibre. And I am eminently thankful that my daughter has evinced no desire to read this one (although her choices are often not much better).

Review: The Wife of His Youth and Other Stories by Charles Chesnutt

Charles Chesnutt was a very well known author during the Harlem Renaissance. The Wife of His Youth and Other Stories was published in 1899 and the short stories within deal quite heavily with the idea of racial identity. Chesnutt has as the main character in many stories "mulattos" (his term), people of mixed blood, who because of the laws of the day were considered "colored." Very frequently his characters hold themselves about their fellow African Americans by virtue of their skin color and he shows them striving to be like the majority of the whites of the time. In the cases where his protagonists either achieve their dream or hold fast to racist principles they do not win the happiness they seek. It is only those who seek their happiness within themselves and find comfort in their own skin who find contentment.

The stories in this collection seem very simple on the surface but have a depth to them that becomes apparent as the reader thinks a bit more. The eponymous story tells the tale of an older, very fair-skinned man who is about to propose to an equally fair-skinned young woman, certain of his acceptance as he's an educated man, a pillar of the community. Just before he can do so however, a very dark older woman speaking an entirely different dialect than this pillar shows up at his door in search of the long lost husband whom she lost track of during the Civil War. Her darkness against his fairness and the quandry this puts him in, the moral question here, gives him pause. In another story, a man takes money from the wife he had from before the war after finding out that they aren't legally married, heads north, and builds a new life, which includes marrying a white woman. But it isn't long before he realizes that his life with his first wife was so much more fulfilling and happy. Yet another story has a family whose convictions about the superiority of the fairer-skinned people in the African American community and their own worth in the social hierarchy cost the daughter an appropriate husband.

The stories are not hard to follow although they can be somewhat formal in tone. Some of the stories contain dialect while others do not. All paint a fairly realistic picture of the evolving African American society in the years following the Civil War. Overall this is a fascinating portrait of a society in search of its own identity and provides an accurate glimpse into history. The writing is clear and straightforward and the stories engaging. It is a quick read and an important one. Chesnutt's reputation as a man of literature is justly founded.












This post is a part of the Classics Circuit for February's Harlem Renaissance tour. Check the dedicated blog for the dates and topics of other posts on the literary lights of the Harlem Renaissance.