In Teacher Man Frank turns his attention to the subject that he most often talks about in his lectures-teaching: why it’s so important, why it’s so undervalued. He describes his own coming of age-as a teacher, a storyteller, and, ultimately, a writer. He is alternately humble and mischievous, downtrodden and rebellious. He instinctively identifies with the underdog; his sympathies lie more with students than administrators. It takes him almost fifteen years to find his voice in the classroom, but what’s clear in the thrilling pages of Teacher Man is that from the beginning he seizes and holds his students’ attention by telling them memorable stories. And then it takes him another fifteen years to find his voice on the page.

With all the wit, charm, irreverence, and poignancy that made Angela’s Ashes and ‘Tis so universally beloved, Frank McCourt tells his most exhilarating story yet-how he became a writer.

Liked:

• McCourt seemed like a wonderful teacher. In my academic career, I’ve had teachers that I’ve liked or admired, but none that truly inspired me. I have a feeling that MANY of McCourt’s students did receive a fair amount of inspiration along with their instruction, and for that I envy them. He mainly taught English, but I have a feeling that even if he taught wood shop or beginner guitar lessons, he would have been just as lovable.
• This book is funny and poignant in many places. This was the first McCourt book I’ve ever read, so I didn’t know what to expect. I really like his style, though, and will be looking at his other works soon.
• The best parts of the book were the ones that dealt with students and classroom happenings. I liked hearing McCourt’s impression of his students (didn’t we all want to know what our teachers REALLY thought about us?), and thought it was fantastic when he ran into a former student on the street a few years after the kid graduated and told the young man that he loved him like a son. Wow!
• McCourt’s insight into teenagers’ feelings regarding teachers was absolutely spot-on. Every time he talked about what he should or shouldn’t do in the classroom and weighed the effect it would have on his students, I found myself nodding in agreement with him. Yes, when I was a high school student, that’s EXACTLY what I would have thought if my teacher did this, that, or the other.
• I giggled imagining McCourt struggling through a whole year with a class of 29 black girls and 2 Hispanic boys. What an odd grouping that sounded like. And when the “ringleader” of the class (I forgot her name…Serena, maybe?) moved away and then wrote back to tell McCourt that she was going to go to college and become a teacher…well, that just shows how much of a profound effect he had on students.

Disliked:

• There wasn’t much I disliked about this book, but I do have to say that the parts that veered into McCourt’s personal relationships with women, his odd jobs on the docks or wherever, and his adventures in grad school in Ireland weren’t that interesting to me. I skimmed most of those sections in order to get back to the kids and the classroom more quickly.

Rating:

I thought Teacher Man by Frank McCourt was a wonderful book. It brought back tons of memories from my own school days, along with a fair amount of wistfulness about never having had a teacher like McCourt. The digressions into his other jobs and his own schooling prevent me from giving this book a perfect rating, but it definitely deserves 4 stars out of 5.

Warning: Spoilers below!

Liked:

• This isn’t the kind of book that immediately grabs you with a page-turning quality; instead, it takes a few days for the wonder of the work to settle in. It was only after I reached the end that I realized what a wonderful journey I’d been on — right along with Jim Burden through his childhood and beyond.
• I liked that although Antonia didn’t have the glamorous future that she’d once aspired to, she turned out to have a happy life. Yes, she worked hard and never made it out of the small town, but she seemed completely fulfilled and content thanks to her children. Tiny and Lena may have been the more obvious, commercial “successes,” yet I have no doubt that Antonia was happier than those two lonely women.
• The first section that introduced the Shimerdas was by far the most interesting of the entire novel. Cather was best known for her portrayal of hardworking immigrants laboring on Nebraska farmlands, and that part of My Antonia was perfectly illustrative of Cather’s talents.

Disliked:

• I wish Antonia had remained the focus of the novel all the way throughout. She kind of dropped out of the story once she had her baby out of wedlock and went back to live with her parents and brother in shame. I didn’t really care about Jim’s college years or his reconnection with Lena; rather, I was just anxious to see what had become of Antonia.
• I would have preferred a more traditionally structured plot with clear arcs and more well-defined characters.

Rating:

I first read My Antonia by Willa Cather in high school, but decided to revisit it now to see if I could come to appreciate it a bit more now that I’m an adult. Although I’m sure I still missed a lot of the nuances and subtleties that make this one of the standouts of American Literature, I did end up enjoying My Antonia much more than I did when I was a teen. I give the book 4 stars out of 5.

She would go on to star in some of the most popular movies of the twentieth century, including Roman Holiday, Sabrina, Funny Face, The Nun’s Story, Breakfast at Tiffany’s and My Fair Lady. A friend and inspiration to renowned designer Hubert de Givenchy, Audrey emerged as a fashion icon as well as a film legend, her influence on women’s fashion virtually unparalleled to this day.

But behind the glamorous public persona, Audrey Hepburn was both a different and a deeper person and a woman who craved love and affection. Donald Spoto offers remarkable insights into her professional and personal relationships with her two husbands, and with celebrities such as Gregory Peck, William Holden, Fred Astaire, Gary Cooper, Robert Anderson, Cary Grant, Peter O’Toole, Albert Finney and Ben Gazzara. The turbulent romances of her youth, her profound sympathy for the plight of hungry children, and the thrills and terrors of motherhood prepared Audrey for the final chapter in her life, as she devoted herself entirely to the charity efforts of an organization that had once come to her rescue at the end of the war: UNICEF.

Donald Spoto has written a poignant, funny and deeply moving biography of an unforgettable woman. At last, Enchantment reveals the private Audrey Hepburn—and invites readers to fall in love with her all over again.

Liked:

• As far as “old-time” actresses go, Audrey Hepburn has always been one of my favorites (though I’ve only seen a fraction of her films). I absolutely loved her in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Roman Holiday, and My Fair Lady, and also appreciated Funny Face and The Children’s Hour. I never knew anything about her private life, though, and was glad to finally read a biography about her.
• Spoto’s book goes into great detail about the filming of many of her most famous movies. This was interesting to me because a lot of it was simply new information. Again, I’d never read anything about Audrey’s life before, so I didn’t know any behind-the-scenes gossip about these films.
• It was great getting some insight into why Hepburn was such an avid promoter of UNICEF later in her life. I had no idea that she benefited from the Red Cross and similar relief efforts when she was a child, and that she was essentially “paying it forward” later on.
• I can only imagine the heartbreak Audrey went through during her three miscarriages — especially since she so desperately wanted to be a mother. Yes, she did end up having two healthy sons, but I’m sure the miscarriages stuck with her for a long time.
• Audrey sounded like such a kind, graceful person who rolled with everything that came her way, refused to hold grudges, and generally tried to be happy and make those around her happy. She was sooo NOT a diva, even though at the height of her popularity she certainly could have been. And she didn’t let major disappointments, such as not getting to sing in My Fair Lady (after having been told that they would use her voice) bring her down for long. It seemed like she had a fantastic attitude.
• I loved reading about her relationship with Givenchy. Again, I knew that Audrey was linked with the brand, but I didn’t know there was a genuine friendship between her and Hubert de Givenchy that lasted until she died.
• There were tons of footnotes in the book, which indicates that the author did a lot of research. That doesn’t necessarily mean that everything is correct and that the conjectures he put forth are accurate, but at least there’s an opportunity for readers to cross-reference anything they feel like delving into a bit deeper.

Disliked:

• I didn’t really care to read about Audrey’s various affairs with her leading men. I get that this was a part of her life and all that, but it kind of changed my views of her a little bit. As naive as this sounds, she always seemed so fresh and innocent on screen, and I don’t like having that image tarnished.
• Ditto about her smoking 3 packs of cigarettes per day. Wow. No cause was given for the rare cancer that began in her appendix and ended up killing her, but no doubt the smoking would have eventually caught up with her too.
• Spoto could have been a bit more balanced in the presentation. It seemed like he spent an inordinate amount of time describing some films (Funny Face, The Nun’s Story), while briefly glossing over others. I understand he had to limit himself and probably didn’t have the same amount of source material available for each movie, but the imbalance was strikingly noticeable.

Rating:

I thought Enchantment was a very good biography of Audrey Hepburn. Granted, it’s the only one I’ve ever read, but it did what I wanted it to do. Namely, the book gave me interesting insight into her private life and acting career, and allowed me to see some of the humanity behind the public persona. Although Audrey wasn’t perfect, she comes off very well in Spoto’s account and is definitely worthy of my admiration. I give this book 4 stars out of 5.

But the shot didn’t kill Garfield. The drama of what hap­pened subsequently is a powerful story of a nation in tur­moil. The unhinged assassin’s half-delivered strike shattered the fragile national mood of a country so recently fractured by civil war, and left the wounded president as the object of a bitter behind-the-scenes struggle for power—over his administration, over the nation’s future, and, hauntingly, over his medical care. A team of physicians administered shockingly archaic treatments, to disastrous effect. As his con­dition worsened, Garfield received help: Alexander Graham Bell, the inventor of the telephone, worked around the clock to invent a new device capable of finding the bullet.

Meticulously researched, epic in scope, and pulsating with an intimate human focus and high-velocity narrative drive, The Destiny of the Republic will stand alongside The Devil in the White City and The Professor and the Madman as a classic of narrative history.

Liked:

• I wasn’t actually interested in President Garfield before reading this book, but was drawn to it by the great title. Fortunately, the content did not disappoint, and I think I learned a lot from Millard’s work.
• Garfield sounded like a pretty amazing individual, not so much for the “rising from poverty” aspect of his story (frankly, lots of folks did that back then and do that now) as for his intellectual capabilities. All the languages he mastered, becoming president of a university at the age of 26, etc. I can’t see a guy like that becoming president in this day and age.
• I enjoyed reading about the strong bond between Garfield and his wife Lucretia. He was clearly devoted to her and worried about her during her illness, and of course she couldn’t wait to be by his side after learning of the assassination attempt. I particularly liked learning that Lucretia used stationery with a black (mourning) border from the time of her husband’s death until her own. It showed that her love for him never flagged.
• The insight into Charles Guiteau (the assassin) was absolutely fascinating. He sounded like an utter leech right from the beginning, borrowing money from people he barely knew, skipping out on his boarding house debts, refusing to pay train fare, etc. How did someone like that even survive? It made me wish people had refused him money so he would have starved to death before carrying out his evil plan.
• The look at early 19th-century medicine was stomach-turning, to say the least. It’s hard to believe that cleanliness and hygiene counted for so very little back then and that doctors kept dried blood and pus from previous surgeries on their lab coats as “evidence” of their experience and competence. Wow.
• Unfortunately, I thought Guiteau had a bit of a point when, during his trial, he claimed that his bullet didn’t kill Garfield; the unclean practices and incompetence of the president’s doctors did. He was right. He still deserved to hang, of course, but those doctors should have been held accountable in some way.

Disliked:

• All the stuff about Alexander Graham Bell felt out of place in this book. I realize that Bell played a huge part in trying to identify the location of the bullet in Garfield’s body, but it wasn’t worth reading so much about his life (his booth at the World’s Fair, his history of teaching the deaf, his marriage). Save that stuff for a different book.
• Guiteau was clearly deranged, and his actions showed it. But I wish the author had delved more into the possible causes of his mental state. Was it hereditary, as his lawyer tried to argue at the trial? Were some of his problems the result of a Chronic migraine condition? Or was he just a religious zealot? I wanted to hear some more theories!
• Reading about the dirty dealings and crooked politicians of Garfield’s time showed me that nothing has really changed in that arena even after 130 years.

Rating

I found Destiny of the Republic to be a highly engrossing and fascinating read — particularly for someone who has never before delved into the subject of Garfield’s assassination. I’m sure there are other, more scholarly works out there, but Candice Millard’s book was just right for me. It was neither too long nor too academic, but it was still well researched and well presented. I give it 4 stars out of 5.

In her most provocative book to date, Ann Coulter argues that liberals exhibit all the psychological characteristics of a mob, for instance:

Liberal Groupthink: “The same mob mentality that leads otherwise law-abiding people to hurl rocks at cops also leads otherwise intelligent people to refuse to believe anything they haven’t heard on NPR.”

Liberal Schemes: “No matter how mad the plan is—Fraternité, the ‘New Soviet Man,’ the Master Race, the Great Leap Forward, the Cultural Revolution, Building a New Society, ObamaCare—a mob will believe it.”

Liberal Enemies: “Instead of ‘counterrevolutionaries,’ liberals’ opponents are called ‘haters,’ ‘those who seek to divide us,’ ‘tea baggers,’ and ‘right-wing hate groups.’ Meanwhile, conservatives call liberals ‘liberals’—and that makes them testy.”

Liberal Justice: “In the world of the liberal, as in the world of Robespierre, there are no crimes, only criminals.”

Liberal Violence: “If Charles Manson’s followers hadn’t killed Roman Polanski’s wife, Sharon Tate, Clinton would have pardoned him, too, and he’d probably be teaching at Northwestern University.”

Citing the father of mob psychology, Gustave Le Bon, Coulter catalogs the Left’s mob behaviors: the creation of messiahs, the fear of scientific innovation, the mythmaking, the preference for images over words, the lack of morals, and the casual embrace of contradictory ideas.

Coulter traces the history of the liberal mob to the French Revolution and Robespierre’s revolutionaries (delineating a clear distinction from America’s founding fathers), who simply proclaimed that they were exercising the “general will” before slaughtering their fellow citizens “for the good of mankind.”

Similarly, as Coulter demonstrates, liberal mobs, from student radicals to white-trash racists to anti-war and pro-ObamaCare fanatics today, have consistently used violence to implement their idea of the “general will.”

This is not the American tradition; it is the tradition of Stalin, of Hitler, of the guillotine—and the tradition of the American Left.

As the heirs of the French Revolution, Democrats have a history that consists of pandering to mobs, time and again, while Republicans, heirs to the American Revolution, have regularly stood for peaceable order.

Hoping to muddy this horrifying truth, liberals slanderously accuse conservatives of their own crimes—assassination plots, conspiracy theorizing, political violence, embrace of the Ku Klux Klan. Coulter shows that the truth is the opposite: Political violence—mob violence—is always a Democratic affair.

Surveying two centuries of mob movements, Coulter demonstrates that the mob is always destructive. And yet, she argues, beginning with the civil rights movement in the sixties, Americans have lost their natural, inherited aversion to mobs. Indeed, most Americans have no idea what they are even dealing with.

Only by recognizing the mobs and their demonic nature can America begin to defend itself.

Liked:

• I absolutely loved the chapters about the French Revolution. That is one of my favorite periods in history (though I’m not an expert by any means), and I have always been baffled as to why the event is often held up as something to be admired and applauded. It was bloody and brutal, with tens of thousands of innocent people murdered by the mobs. I enjoyed reading Coulter’s interpretation and analysis of the events, and found myself agreeing with her often.
• The stuff about the Central Park jogger was fairly frightening. That event happened when I wasn’t yet old enough to care much about what was happening in the outside world, so a lot of what I read from Coulter was new to me. What a travesty that the perpetrators — all part of a mob that descended on the park that night — had their convictions overturned based on the completely unreliable confession of an inmate who had nothing to lose and a lot to gain by coming forward.
• The chapters in this book weren’t merely rehashes of Coulter’s past columns. Even if you’re a regular reader of her weekly work, this book will be entirely new to you (as it was to me).
• I LOVED how Coulter stuck up for Sarah Palin throughout the entire book. Admittedly, I was surprised by this since Coulter has blasted Palin on various talk shows recently, but I definitely enjoyed how she took the time to dismantle many of the unfair attacks against Palin in this one.
• I liked the amount of wit and sarcasm in Demonic. I’ve complained that sometimes Coulter goes a bit too far with her insults, making her sound more juvenile than anything else. But think she showed a little more restraint here. Her cutting remarks were well-placed and made me laugh out loud more often than not.

Disliked:

• Just about the only thing I disliked about Demonic was that it was too short!! I was left wanting way more, because goodness knows there are plenty of additional examples of liberal mob mentality out there.
• Sometimes Coulter focused too much on specific individuals (particularly Obama’s pals and advisers) instead of sticking to the mob theme. Although I certainly agree with her in principle, I don’t know that small extremist groups qualify as perpetrating mob action. Ditto for Janet Reno and all her massive blunders as Attorney General. Yes, Coulter was talking more about how liberals in general (i.e. the mob) supported Reno; but still, it felt like a departure from the theme of the book.

Rating:

I’m not a knee-jerk conservative, so I don’t automatically like books just because they’re written by right-wing authors. In fact, Ann Coulter’s books have always been hit-or-miss for me. But I found Demonic: How the Liberal Mob is Endangering America to be an excellently argued, well-written “position paper” on how group think has harmed and continues to threaten society. I give the book 4 stars out of 5.

Now, in Through My Eyes, Tebow brings readers everywhere an inspirational memoir about life as he chose to live it, revealing how his faith and family values, combined with his relentless will to succeed, have molded him into the person that he is today. As the son of Christian missionaries, Tebow has a unique story to tell—from the circumstances of his birth, to his home-schooled roots, to his record-setting collegiate football career with the Florida Gators and everything else that took place in between.

At every step, Tebow’s life has defied convention and expectation. While aspects of his life have been well-documented, the stories have always been filtered through the opinions and words of others. Through My Eyes is his passionate, firsthand, never-before-told account of how it all really happened.

Liked:

• This was truly an inspirational book for me. Not in a “finding the Lord” sense, though I’m sure that will probably happen to some people, but just in strictly a work ethic/giving it your all sort of way. To hear about how Tebow prepared for everything and took his training so seriously made me feel like adopting the same attitude towards my daily workouts.
• Tim Tebow strikes me as one of the sincerest professional athletes around. He doesn’t just talk the talk; he actually walks the walk. That’s very rare in this day and age, and I have a lot of respect for the young man on this account.
• Although Tebow “wears his religion on his sleeve,” as has been said a thousand and one times, he’s not overbearing and in-your-face about it. He doesn’t try to convert you with every word. He basically says what the Lord means to him and his life, but doesn’t say “You’re condemned to eternal damnation if you don’t covert RIGHT NOW.”
• Details, details, details. I’m not really a college football fan and have never been a part of Gator Nation in any way, shape, or form, but Tebow’s firsthand accounts of his four seasons at the University of Florida made for riveting reading. (Yes, you DO hvae to be a football fan of some sort to appreciate what he’s saying.) In fact, I was so intrigued by some of his exploits that I spent several hours on YouTube looking up clips of some of the specific incidents that he talked about. What an amazing career!
• I like that Tebow plans to use his platform as a professional athlete to spread a good message. Just from what I’ve read and what I’ve seen of him in interviews, I wouldn’t mind having my child look up to him as a role model.

Disliked:

• Yes, the religion stuff and the bible quotes got old after a while. On the one hand, I know that’s part and parcel of who Tebow is. On the other hand, I’m not religious at all, so just for me personally, the quotes got to be tiresome.
• I wish Tebow had given fans a better look at his relationship with coach Urban Meyer. He offered a few random scenes, but never fully articulated what Meyer meant to him beyond generic descriptions such as they were “close” and Meyer was a “father figure.” That could be determined even without reading the book; I wanted to know more specific ways that Meyer influenced Tebow.
• I wanted to learn more about Tim’s life as the big man on campus at UF. How did he deal with the celebrity aspect? Did students hound him for autographs in his classes? Was he able to walk across campus without getting stopped for pics and autographs? How did the professors treat him?

Rating:

Overall, I was pretty impressed by Through My Eyes. I was not a Tebow fan going into the book, but was merely curious as to what all the hype was about. Now, however, I really am a fan and am rooting for him to succeed even more than he has already. Tebow lovers and Gators would obviously love this book, but I think it has broader appeal as well (to football fans and/or Christians, at least). I give it 4 stars out of 5.

But even as Katie begins to fall in love, she struggles with the dark secret that still haunts and terrifies her . . . a past that set her on a fearful, shattering journey across the country, to the sheltered oasis of Southport. With Jo’s empathic and stubborn support, Katie eventually realizes that she must choose between a life of transient safety and one of riskier rewards . . . and that in the darkest hour, love is the only true safe haven.

Warning: Spoilers below!

Liked:

• This was not your typical Sparks novel. The main couple wasn’t all sappy about their love for each other and the domestic abuse angle was far more serious than anything I’d ever read in a Sparks book before. For me, this worked. Maybe some of his longtime fans didn’t like the departure from the usual formula, but I really enjoyed it.
• Sparks did a good job — at least at first — of building up tension as far as Kevin was concerned. It was obvious from the start that Kevin would find Katie again and that there would be a confrontation. It was just as obvious that she would survive it and get to be with Alex. Nevertheless, I experienced a real sense of dread whenever the scenes cut back to Boston and Kevin. He seemed so brutal and dangerous (again, just at first) that I couldn’t bear the thought of him getting to Katie.
• I liked Alex and Katie and even the kids because Sparks used some real restraint when describing them and their relationships. Again it wasn’t perfect and saccharine like his usual stuff. Yes, the kids took to Katie a bit too quickly, but still, it wasn’t so much that it felt unrealistic.
• After all she wen through, Katie deserved her happy ending. I’m glad she got it. I like to imagine that Alex’s insurance paid for the fire and they applied for additional small business loans to expand the store and build a bigger house. Maybe they even turned the grill into a full diner so Katie could have something to do too. Whatever they actually did, they’re together with the kids and Katie no longer has to look over her shoulder for Kevin.

Disliked:

• As I said, at first the parts with Kevin were good. But then, OMG, it got so tiresome and repetitive!!! Always drinking vodka. Always thinking to himself how he was going to be so happy when Erin got home because he loved her, and then how he was going to kill her because he hated her. Always the long sentences connected by “and”, “and”, “and” to show how he wasn’t thinking clearly. Ugh. It got so bad that I just started skimming those parts.
• The confrontation with Kevin and Erin/Katie turned out to be such a letdown. After building it up for the WHOLE book, I thought there would be more to it. For example, it really surprised me that Kevin set fire to the house first. It seemed to me that he would want to forcefully confront Erin/Katie with his rage, yell at her, hit her, beat her right there in person, not by an “impersonal” fire. Does what I’m saying make sense? I mean, if she had died in the fire, she might not have even known it was Kevin who did it. Surely he would have wanted the satisfaction of her knowing it was him.
• I hated the way Kevin became little more than a caricature by the end of the book. Most of the way through, he was truly menacing. But then when he was limping around with blood all over him and shards of glass sticking out of his body or whatever, he just seemed like one of those horror movie villains that never die. Cue eye-roll here.
• The letter from Alex’s dead wife to the new wife was unnecessary. Why does everything in a Sparks novel have to work out so damn PERFECTLY? “Oh, here Katie, you don’t have to worry about taking over my ex-wife’s place. She wanted me to be happy and find love again. See, she even wrote a letter to my future second wife!” Lord, how ridiculous.
• Speaking of ridiculous, I was completely and utterly turned off by Sparks’ decision to make Jo not only be a complete figment of Katie’s imagination, but also be the spirit of Alex’s first wife to boot. This supernatural element just really seemed out of place and totally incongruous with the rest of the story. What a strange choice by the author.

Rating:

Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks has its flaws, and yes, is derivative of other abused women books. Nevertheless, I found it to be a page-turner most of the way (something I never thought I’d say about a Sparks book) and I was actually rooting for the main character to come out on top. If Kevin hadn’t become such a caricature and if Jo hadn’t been a figment of Katie’s imagination, the novel would have been so much better. Despite all this, I still give it 4 stars out of 5 — 3 stars for the story itself, and 1 extra star for Sparks having surprised me by not making this a totally sappy, love-you-and-only-you-til-I-die romance.

Liked:

• Having spent a considerable amount of time in Small Town, Minnesota myself, I could readily identify with Carol Kennicott. Her observations of the town and people of Gopher Prairie rang entirely true to me. Sure, it’s probably a stereotype to consider all small town residents to be backwards, gossipy hicks who are completely resistant to change, but that was definitely my experience.
• For some reason, I thought it was completely hilarious that Erik Valbourg’s nickname was “Elizabeth” because of his dandy-ish ways!!! Yeah, it was demeaning and all that, but totally funny for something in the 1920′s.
• There is a real sense of timelessness to this novel. From the writing style to the words and phrases Lewis used to the themes that pervade the story — all of it could just as easily apply to today’s society. Indeed, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find references to a cell phone or golf gps finder, and had to check the publication date several times to confirm to myself that the book wasn’t far more recent than I thought!
• Many of the characters were clearly fleshed out. Yes, there were some flat ones along the way, but Carol, Will, and Erik, Maud, and several others seemed very realistic.
• I found myself opposing and supporting Carol in nearly equal measures throughout the book. While I agreed that Gopher Prarie could do with some changes, she really did come off as smug and snooty most of the time. If I were a Gopher Prairie resident, I probably wouldn’t have liked her at all, but she certainly makes for an interesting protagonist!
• Not all satires hit the mark, but this one certainly does. Main Street was funny, poignant, and ultimately true to life.

Disliked:

• I’m not gonna lie: there were some incredibly boring patches along the way. The story moved quite slowly at times, and Lewis occasionally went into such minute descriptions of seemingly unimportant things that I found my mind drifting more than I would have liked.
• I didn’t like that Carol ended up staying with Will despite his infidelity. She was supposed to be so progressive, and yet she turned out to be pretty much like everyone else. (Yes, this was probably intentional characterization on the author’s part; but that doesn’t mean I have to like it!) She should have left Will…or at the very least, had the fling with Erik that she so desperately desired.

Rating:

Overall, I think Main Street by Sinclair Lewis definitely deserves its place as a classic of American Literature. Carol (“Carrie”) Milford Kennicott is a memorable character, and the themes that pervade the book are still relevant today. Although I would have liked this book to be at least 25% shorter, it’s still worth a read. I give it 4 stars out of 5.

Dreiser’s first novel, Sister Carrie (1900) was inspired by the life of one of his sisters, who had eloped to New York with a disreputable lover. Its sympathetic depiction of Carrie’s love affairs shocked its publisher, whose grudging efforts won few initial readers until the book’s successful re-publication in 1907. Today it resonates with Dreiser’s clear-sighted understanding of life in the increasingly mercantile world of the big city, and with his belief in the domination of fate over free will. Particularly in the unflinching tragedy of its final chapters, the novel broke new ground in American fiction for its gritty realism and for the character of Carrie, who begins “a half-equipped little knight” and becomes a truly modern woman.

Warning: Spoilers below!

Liked:

• Dreiser reminds me very much of Thomas Hardy (a favorite) in terms of the stark, gritty lives his characters lead. They face privation and hardships, there is not always a happy ending. But it makes for fascinating reading.
• I loved Dreiser’s characterization of Carrie as a materialist. She thought of everything in dollars and cents, and even when she was poor, she couldn’t help spending her money on luxuries instead of necessities. People like Carrie are part of the reason why America’s finances are in such disarray now; I consider her a precursor to the current state of affairs.
• This book was published in 1900, and I can only imagine how shocking it was for people of that time to read about Carrie’s living arrangement with Drouet. He essentially bought her services as a kept woman, and Carrie barely even blinked at that fact.
• It was interesting to witness Hurstwood’s descent into complete apathy. That rash act of stealing the $10,000 from Fitzgerald and Moy’s got the ball rolling, and from there Hurstwood managed a third-rate saloon in New York; idled about without a job for almost a year; broke a train workers’ strike as a scab (for one day); took on menial tasks at a hotel; turned to begging; and finally sunk into complete dependence upon charity for his survival. Then, when he saw no other way out, he committed suicide in a fleabag boardinghouse room with his final words being, “What’s the use.” Wow.
• I liked that Carrie was still lonely and unfulfilled even after she achieved success as an actress. For people like her, being comfortably ensconced in the middle class is not enough. She always has her eye on those above her on the social ladder, and will never be satisfied with her own lot.

Disliked:

• Certain episodes seemed unnecessarily drawn out, including the information about the train workers’ strike and Carrie’s first rehearsal for that play in Chicago. Those parts were pretty boring and lost my attention.
• I wish Dreiser had revisited Carrie’s sister and brother-in-law to capture their reaction about what Carrie had made of her life. Didn’t they wonder where she went? Did they try to find her in Chicago? Did they know about Drouet and then Hurstwood? Did they hear about her success on the New York stage? I didn’t like that they were completely dropped at the end of the first part of the novel.
• I didn’t like how Carrie thought it was so scandalous to support Hurstwood for a while. I realize that this is more a function of the time period (1890′s) than her character, but still… it just didn’t seem right. Hurstwood essentially threw away his whole life for her and shared his money to support her, but she couldn’t do the same? I agree that he could’ve done more to try to find work and could have at least tried selling discount dental supplies or something, but Carrie was still way too harsh on him.

Rating

This was my second time reading Sister Carrie, and it just reinforced my opinion that Theodore Dreiser is one of the most underrated American novelists. I wish I had studied him in school instead of some of the standards like Hemingway or Jack London. This book was highly realistic in its portrayal of poverty and the fear of poverty, and brought forth some memorable characters in Carrie Meeber, Charlie Drouet, and George Hurstwood. I give it 4 stars out of 5.

Myron’s sports agency is struggling. Now more than ever Myron needs to keep his eye on the ball, sign up some big-name clients, and turn away from the amateur detective work that is taking precious time away from the agency. But life is not going according to plan. Myron’s father, recently recovered from a heart attack, is facing his own mortality–and forcing Myron to face it too. Then comes another surprise.

Emily Downing, Myron’s college sweetheart, reappears in his life with devastating news: Her thirteen-year-old son Jeremy is gravely ill and can be saved only by a bone-marrow transplant–from a donor who has vanished without a trace. And before Myron can absorb this revelation, Emily hits him with an even bigger shocker: Jeremy is Myron’s son, conceived the night before Emily’s wedding to another man.

Staggered by the news, Myron plunges into a search for the missing donor. But for Myron, finding the only person in the world who can save a boy’s life means cracking open a mystery as dark as it is heartbreaking–a mystery that involves a broken family, a brutal kidnapping spree, and a cat-and-mouse game between an ambitious reporter and the FBI.

Somewhere in the sordid mess is the man who once signed his name to a bone-marrow donor’s registry, then disappeared. And as doubts emerge about Jeremy’s true paternity, a child vanishes, igniting a chain reaction of truth and revelation that will change everyone’s life forever.

Warning: Spoilers below!

Liked:

• This was a typical Myron Bolitar book, complete with the over-the-top, inappropriate, and ill-timed humor that readers have come to expect from Myron and Win. In that way, it was an easy, comfortable read.
• I liked the way Coben treated the revelation that Myron was the father. I was worried that it would turn out to be a bluff on Emily’s part just to get Myron to help, which of course would have been the ultimate cop-out. Coben didn’t let Myron off the hook like that, but he didn’t treat the situation as a touchy-feely time for celebrating. Nobody decided to take advantage of a backwoods cigars free shipping offer to order some celebratory stogies, there was no clinking of champagne glasses, etc. And I liked that Greg didn’t die, either. That also would have been way too much of a cop-out. Now Myron is stuck with an uncomfortable, uncertain situation — just as most people would be “in real life.”
• The whole storyline involving the writer (Stan Gibbs) was interesting. I couldn’t figure out exactly what the guy had to do with the plot, but knew it was something big. I knew he couldn’t be the original kidnapper/killer because of his age, but I liked the twist of him covering for his father and murdering his girlfriend to keep the secret.
• I love Myron’s relationship with his parents. It’s very rare to see adult protagonists portrayed as being so close to his or her parents in a healthy, non-dysfunctional way. This is a unique aspect of the Bolitar books that I really appreciate.
• I liked that Myron and Greg didn’t suddenly become best friends after all was said and done. There’s just too much history and bad blood between them to have it all evaporate in a matter of days.

Disliked:

• It really bugged me the way Myron kept saying that all they had to do was “find the donor”, as if that would be the final solution to everything. I mean, he basically took it for granted that if they found the match, the guy would be perfectly willing to donate his marrow. Not once did Myron and Emily talk about how they would “convince” or “persuade” or even “beg” this mythical donor to give up his marrow. The be all and end all was just finding the guy. Perhaps it’s just semantics, but this really did rub me the wrong way.
• Okay, I think I liked the “are we good or are we evil” debate in the last Bolitar novel, but I don’t want that same old question to be rehashed in every installment. It’s already getting boring!
• Maybe I missed something, but I didn’t understand the whole Dennis Lex identity swap thing. Why did Stan’s father need a fake ID anyway? He was never a suspect in any crimes, so I don’t get why he needed to steal Dennis’s ID in the first place. Was that just an unnecessary twist on Coben’s part?
• I just don’t like Big Cyndi at all. I know a lot of readers/fans think she’s funny or whatever, but whenever I read Coben’s descriptions of her gaudy wardrobe and makeup, it just sounds like he’s trying way too hard to be “different.”

Rating:

Overall, I thought Darkest Fear was a very solid entry in the Myron Bolitar series. It had some flaws, but it was still a page-turner for the most part and it sets up some very interesting possibilities for future books. I give it 4 stars out of 5.