Review: Never Hug a Nun by Kevin Killeen

When you think back on your childhood, you probably remember the goofy stunts you pulled, the fun, the innocence, and the joy.  If you were like me, you wanted to please your parents and your teachers, get good grades, and play with your friends.  If you were anything like Kevin Killeen's main character, Patrick Cantwell, in his short novel Never Hug a Nun, you wanted these things but somehow, despite your best efforts, you frequently fell short.

Set in the 1960s in St. Louis, this novel has the feel of a memoir told in vignettes to it.  When the story opens, Patrick is at the end of first grade at Mary Queen of Our Hearts Catholic School, the middle of three boys.  He's the one who wants terribly to be good but he's so concerned with keeping up with his older brother John and showing his devotion to the beautiful, blonde Ebby Hamilton that he ignores his own conscience and gets himself into trouble more often than not.  Peer pressure surely bites him in the butt every day of the week and twice on Sunday.  Along with his brother John (but not younger brother Teddy, who has been a little more fragile since a bout with meningitis), and the neighborhood kid every parent wishes their child would steer clear of, Patrick gets up to all sorts of mischief, naughty antics and eventually even actual stealing that gets him arrested.  They boys are smoking, jumping in front of freight trains, throwing tomatoes at buses, and dreaming up ways to get the money for a drum kit so they can start a band like the Beatles.

What starts out as a sweet novel about the innocence of childhood in a simpler time turns into snapshots from the life of a precocious, well-meaning deliquent of a child.  Killeen has certainly captured the feel of parochial school, the changing Catholic church of the time, and the way in which the church was part of the very fabric of daily life for the devout very well.  He's also done a lovely job with a childhood first crush, showing the embarrassment and the conflicting emotions that such a crush meant in elementary school.  And his depiction of a father who goes downtown to work every day to support his family despite the monotonous boredom of his job and a mother who maintains the home because it is her expected sphere is spot on, especially for the mid '60s.  The plot narrative here is very episodic and doesn't really have a discernible climax, rather it's simply one year in Patrick's life.  As a character, Patrick seems to mean well but makes every poor decision in the book.  And he also seems to be more of a deliquent than is normal or average for a 7 or 8 year old boy, even one growing up in a time when parents allowed their children to run free all day without today's stifling supervision.  Killeen is clearly funny and there are moments that cause a chuckle in the book but there needs to be a bit more of a story to sustain the book.  It's a quick, nostalgic read, especially for parochial school kids who have fond (or not so fond) memories of the nuns and priests and fellow Catholic school friends who peopled their childhoods.

For more information about Kevin Killeen and to read an excerpt of the book click here. Follow the rest of the blog tour or look at the amazon reviews for others' thoughts and opinions on the book. To buy the book, visit Blank Slate Press.

Thanks to Lisa from TLC Book Tours and the publisher for sending me a copy of this book to review.

It's Monday! What Are You Reading?

This meme is hosted by Sheila at Book Journey.

Books I completed this past week are:

Fresh Off the Boat by Eddie Huang
Yours Affectionately, Jane Austen by Sally Smith O'Rourke
Vanity Fare by Megan Caldwell

Bookmarks are still living in the middle of:

My Bookstore edited by Ronald Rich
A Different Kind of Normal by Cathy Lamb

Reviews posted this week:

The Blue Notebook by James Levine
Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann
Fresh Off the Boat by Eddie Huang
Sad Desk Salad by Jessica Grose
You Tell Your Dog First by Alison Pace

Books still needing to have reviews written (as opposed to the ones that are simply awaiting posting):

Charlotte Street by Danny Wallace
Seducing Ingrid Bergman by Chris Greenhalgh
Buddy by Brian McGrory
His Mistress by Christmas by Victoria Alexander
The Lighthouse Road by Peter Geye
Happily Ever Madder by Stephanie McAfee
Rules of Civility by Amor Towles
I Married You For Love by Lily Tuck
The Book of Neil by Frank Turner Hollon
How to Tame a Willful Wife by Christy English
An Extraordinary Theory of Objects by Stephanie LaCava
The Crying Tree by Naseem Rakha
Saturday Night Widows by Becky Aikman
Yours Affectionately, Jane Austen by Sally Smith O'Rourke

Monday Mailbox

Aside from some last minute wrapping, my Christmas is all finished so I can wallow guilt-free in my quintet of new books. This past week's mailbox arrivals:

The Imposter Bride by Nancy Richler came from St. Martin's Press.

A mail order bride who ends up married to someone other than the man she expected, it turns out she's the one with secrets when she disappears leaving behind her husband and a new baby daughter.  Shortlisted for the Giller Prize, this should be intriguing, no?!

A Passionate Love Affair With a Total Stranger by Lucy Robinson came from Penguin UK.

Brit chick lit with a totally capable heroine whose life comes crumbling down around her ears before she starts helping people with internet dating and possibly finds her own prince charming. Sounds like a fun escapist read to me!

The Missing Manuscript of Jane Austen by Syrie James came from Berkley

Ever since Byatt's Possession, I've enjoyed literary mysteries where modern day characters uncover previously unknown works and I've previously read and enjoyed James' work. Couple that with my complete Jane Austen fixation and this should be a huge winner.

A Land More Kind Than Home by Wiley Cash came from William Morrow and TLC Book Tours for a blog tour.

A book about two boys, one a mute, who see something they shouldn't when they are spying on the adults, this one has been getting huge raves so I'm excited to read it.

Salt Sugar Fat by Michael Moss came from Random House.

A serious, researched look at the reason we Americans are so addicted to salt, sugar, and fat despite the horrifying health problems that result from our obsession. Hint: an enormous culprit is the processed food industry. This looks like a scary and eye-opening read and maybe the knowledge within it will help me out on my quest to eat healthier.

As always, if you'd like to see the marvelous goodies in other people's mailboxes, make sure to visit Suko's Notebook as she is hosting this month's Mailbox Monday and have fun seeing how we are all doing our part to keep the USPS and delivery services viable.

Review: You Tell Your Dog First by Alison Pace

Dog people are dog people even when they don't currently have a dog in their lives.  They are the dogless people you see crouched down scratching furry bellies and looking up chatting with the dog's owner on the sidewalk.  They are the ones who melt when they see canine cuteness.  They are the ones talking to strange dogs in highly pitched baby voices asking a dog not even their own, "Who's a good girl?  Who?"  For a long time, Alison Pace was one of these people.  And then she found the love of her life, Carlie, a fluffy West Highland white terrier.  Her pet memoir You Tell Your Dog First is both a memoir of her own life amongst dogs and a paean to life with her beloved Carlie.

Told in short chapter essays, Pace shares her history with dogs, from her  childhood filled with a parade of much loved canines of almost every stripe and breed to her adult, dogless life in New York City and finally to the life she builds once Carlie comes into it.  The love that Pace has for all the dogs of her life is clearly palpable here as she recounts trusting dogs to know when someone is a friend or isn't good boyfriend material.  When she realizes how much she wants a dog in her life, she sets out to remake her life so that she can realize her dream, searching for pet friendly apartments (no easy feat in the city), researching breeds and temperaments, and preparing to welcome a wriggly, tale-wagging, cold black-nosed, furry dog into her life.

Alison Pace has written a charming memoir and clearly she and Carlie make a happy pack.  The tone of the book is chatty and friendly and most dog owners will find things in Pace's life that resonate.  She is sometimes a bit over the top in her love for Carlie but she recognizes her excesses and writes of them with what one must imagine to be a wry grin at herself.  Pace has certainly captured the joys of living with dogs and the many varied ways in which we dog owners bask in unconditional love that comes from our pooches.  She also tells beautifully of the way Carlie connected her to the world, made it less impersonal for her, allowed her to drop her guard just a little bit and meet some of the wonderful people she might otherwise have walked on past.  Because of Carlie, she knows the neighbors in her apartment building and meets folks in the park.  And not only is she more connected to people, but she has a loving and perfect confidant who keeps all her secrets in her fluffy, white terrier.  Dog lovers of all sorts will enjoy this light and pleasant read.

Thanks to the publisher for sending me a copy of the book for review.

Review: Sad Desk Salad by Jessica Grose

In this day and age of instant information, the internet, Facebook, and Twitter, there seems to be no such thing as privacy or discretion.  What we don't share about ourselves, others share for us and about us.  The wealth of information about people that is instantly available for anyone with a little technical expertise is truly staggering.  And we've developed a culture that feeds on this "news," feeling entitled to know everything we can, especially about the celebrities and public figures we love or loathe.  Prurience seems to be at an all time high for certain.  Worse yet, we don't care how this desire affects and even potentially destroys the lives of those we read or hear about.  Jessica Grose's new novel Sad Desk Salad focuses on the gossipy, exposed world that our extreme need to uncover the private lives of others has created.

Alex Lyons is a writer/blogger for celebrity gossip website Chick Habit.  She trolls the internet for information, writes a short bitchy article and sits back to watch the hits (the method by which her company measures her success) accumulate on her articles.  This is not what she envisioned she'd be doing with her life but she's gotten quite good at it, finding juicy tidbits and exposing them to a large and faceless audience day after day.  And then an anonymous tipster sends Alex a link to a video showing the college-aged daughter of a very conservative, smug "perfect mother," and rising politician doing cocaine.  This is the sort of story that would cement Alex's always precarious job and take down a fairly nasty politician but it could have many other repercussions, especially for a college girl who never asked to be in the limelight but was thrust there by her mother's political ambitions.

While Alex wrestles with her conscience about posting the private video, obsessing about the situation and these people plus her own guilt, she is unable to see the ways in which her own life and relationship with her boyfriend Pete is completely breaking down.  Her work is changing her as a person, and not for the better.  When she finds a blog devoted to attacking the Chick Habit writers and discovers that it saves most of its vitriol for her, she is horrified and alarmed even as the fall-out and attacks as a result of her decision to run the coke snorting video also ramp up.  Feeling attacked on all sides, Alex must face who she's become, what it has done to her important relationships, and how she can possibly make the changes that will bring her back to herself.

On the surface, this is a light and quick read but it certainly does contain important deeper themes and issues facing us in our instantaneous information, instant gratification, nothing off-limits age.  What is the new morality and ethics; is it still the same old morality and ethics just in a new medium?  Alex as a character is funny and snarky and delightfully neurotic.  Her life is both fast paced and isolated and that definitely rings true.  The secondary characters are fairly flat and one dimensional but since they exist mainly as screen names who interact with Alex in person only very rarely, this is perhaps fitting.  It is interesting to see the other side of the glut of celebrity news, that of the people who find the information and make it available to the rest of us.  If we feel slightly dirty for reading it, what must they feel as they ferret it out or expose it to a wider audience?  Set over a very short time, Alex's revelations come to her rather quickly and the ending is resolved just a bit too easily but this is well-written and fun and anyone who enjoys, guiltily or not, celebrity gossip will enjoy this inside look at the way in which that particular beast gets fed.

Thanks to the publisher for sending me a copy of the book for review.

Review: Fresh Off the Boat by Eddie Huang

When I was in grad school, I chose to concentrate on a fairly little-known and growing area of literature: immigrant literature with a focus on Asian American writing by the first and second generations.  There was actually a decent amount of beautifully written, amazing works that detailed the difficult position of being Asian American in a Caucasian majority society.  The books tackled the sometimes self-perpetuating myth of the model minority as versus reality, the overt and hidden racism faced by those fresh off the boat as well as those Americans born and raised in the US, and the challenges of a hyphenated existence amongst a society that frequently still isn't fully accepting.  The books also raised the issue of difference between the desires, goals, and asperations of first and second generations Asian Americans.  So Eddie Huang's memoir Fresh Off the Boat, about growing up as the child of Taiwanese Chinese immigrants to the US should have been right up my alley.  Unfortunately it was anything but.

Huang seems to think that he's the only one to ever rebel against the model minority stereotype or at least the only one to do so successfully on his own terms.  The tone of the book is condescending with Huang coming off as always certain of his superiority.  Frankly this attitude was wearying and unearned.  His self-conscious over-reliance on gansgta slang and his 'hood credentials made the reading tiresome.  And while he clearly wants to set himself up as a bad-ass, in the end, he comes off more as a dilettante poseur than anything else.  He celebrates being kicked out of multiple private schools, fighting people at the drop of a hat, holding stupid grudges for years, and glorifies doing and selling drugs.  All of his bad behaviour, explained as his protest against model minority status, is related with a wink and a nudge and a smugness that grates.  This is a real shame as he has some very valid social insights and criticisms to present but they are obscured by his own unpleasantness and disdain for almost everyone he comes into contact with who might possibly treat him well and derail his overarching theme of his own triumph over those who would keep him down. 

The memoir is definitely not a chef memoir in the traditional sense, focused almost exclusively on his growing up years from his family's downward mobility to their financial resurgence, his education all the way through law school, and only in the final pages, his family's opposition to him starting his own restaurant and eventual pride in his success.  As he narrates his story, he spends an inordinate amount of ink denigrating and mocking white people as a whole, perhaps in retaliation for the very real racism he encountered (and perhaps still encounters).  Even if it is deserved, it unfortunately doesn't make for interesting or gripping reading, at least not here.  The pacing of his narrative is uneven and the book's writing is pedestrian, sliding in and out of his assumed hip hop dialect.  Short shift is given to his adult years and because of the lack of detail about them, they come off as an annual Christmas card letter's collection of brag and gag highlights.  As interested in this memoir as I was initially, it was, in the end, a terrible disappointment.

Thanks to LibraryThing Early Reviewers for providing me with a copy of this book for review.

Review: Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann

I should probably swear off of award winning books, at least lately.  And I'm going to have to start skipping book club when they choose to read an award winner although in all fairness, this particular book was chosen long ago and I could never find the impetus to finish it until recently.  Suffice it to say it's never a good sign when books take up extended residence on my bedside table.  Although this National Book Award winner by Colum McCann is well written, this collection of inter-related stories tenuously connected by the spectacular 1974 Philippe Petit tightrope walk between the twin towers of the World Trade Center left me unsatisfied.

The short stories focus on one day in the lives of very disparate characters.  There's a Park Avenue matron hosting a meeting for her grief support group for mothers who lost sons in Vietnam, a celibate Irish monk living and working amongst the poor and drug addicted, the monk's brother, mother and daughter prostitutes, the judge who will preside over Philippe Petit's trial, and a counter-culture artist and his wife.  The stories visit the characters on the day of the tightrope walk but also fills in each person's personal back history as well.  Even so, some of the characters feel incomplete and one dimensional.  Characters drive the slowly unfolding novel rather than the singular event that threads through each of the narratives.  And as is often the case in purely character driven novels, the characters are incredibly introspective, perhaps too much so in the cases when their actions already telegraph their thoughts.  In the end, the actual tightrope walk, although a true event, became inconsequential and simply a narrative technique to tie these people together in ways that end up being far closer than the reader first suspects.  It took me a very long time to slog through the book because I just didn't really engage with any of the characters.  McCann's writing may be techniquely well done but there was a cold, flat distance to it that held this reader at a remove.  We might be on the ground looking up at the magic happening high above us in the air but we're too far away to actually feel any of the magic.