The 2009 Leafy Awards!

That's right everyone, it's that time again. For the third time (wow, I've really been at this for three years? You'd think I'd be better at it), it's time for the Leafy Awards celebrating the best (and worst) of the few books I've read this year! As usual, the categories are almost totally bogus because I'm incapable of just writing a straight up top 10 list, and what's the fun in that anyway, right? Now, brought to you from the back of my health insurance policy envelope where I've written them down illegibly (drum roll please!) - the 3rd Annual Leafy Awards!

First, in the category of Most Delicious:

The School of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermeister (Seriously, I could eat this book. Also voted "Most likely to captivate me so much that I read most of it in an uncomfortable wooden kitchen chair instead of putting it down long enough to move to the couch" and "Most Sensual in an Unnaughty Way")

Next up The Best and Only Non-Fiction to Win a Leafy This Year:

Picking Cotton by Jennifer Thompson-Cannino and Ronald Cotton (also voted "Most Likely to Make Me Feel Like a Scumbag for Not Forgiving Minor Transgressions of Loved Ones." She mistakenly helped put him in prison for raping her, he forgave her, and now they're friends! What a story!)

Best Debut Novel:

The Well and the Mine by Gin Phillips (also voted "Characters I'd Most Like to Meet" and "Most Likely to Make a Shameless Evangelist out of Me." If you haven't spotted me somewhere on the internet raving at length about this book, you must not get out too much. Or else I must not.)

Tear Jerker of the Year:

The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen (I sobbed. On more than one occasion. Also voted "Most Likely to make me scratch my head in confusion over why it took me this long to pick up a Sarah Dessen book," I mean, it's not like everybody isn't talking about her!)

Best Book Nobody's Heard of by a Popular Author

Pied Piper by Nevil Shute (Sure, he might have brought you classics like A Town Like Alice and On the Beach but you should really be reading this one.)

Best Book I Loved Before Even Coming Close to Finishing It

Fat Kid Rules the World by K.L. Going (Also voted "Most Likely to Make me Gush Shamelessly in the Highest Amount of Blog Posts before Actually Reviewing It")

The RARE and COVETED Book I'm Starting to Think I Should Really Re-read Even Though I Don't Re-Read Books Award goes to...

The Stolen Child by Keith Donohue (It's literary! It's fantasy! It's intelligent and HEARTFELT and CHARACTER DRIVEN and SETTING DRIVEN and AWESOME! Ahem. Yeah, will somebody just go get me another copy so I can get even more out of it?)

The Dagger Award for Cutting Me Deepest battles a few strong contenders. Emerging victorious is...

The Center of Everything by Laura Moriarty (Hurts so good.)

Most Laugh Out Loud Funny:

The Year of Secret Assignments by Jaclyn Moriarty (The Moriartys have it! Okay, so the book is totally unbelievable - who cares? It's hilarious!)

Most Likely to Cause Deep Depression and Make you Like It

The Road by Cormac McCarthy (Seriously, though. How many times did I have to stop and take a breather because McCarthy was twisting his bitterbittersweet postapocalyptic knife in my heart so hard? Ow. This one hurts so good, too.)

Oh, wait, here's one last award. Who's it for? Why, it's for me!

It's the Biggest Accomplishment award, awarded to yours truly for finally finishing the epic tome that is In the Country of Brooklyn by Peter Golenbock after more than a year of non-continuous reading.

And finally...

The Hall of Shame featuring the books I can't believe I bothered finishing.

The Glister by John Burnside (What the heck was this book even about?)
Freewill by Chris Lynch (What the heck was this book even about??)
Canvey Island by James Runcie (Also, unfortunately, getting the nod for "Most Promising Beginning" which made the disappointment that much sharper.)



There you have it! Another year over. Congratulations to the winners and here's to another year of great reading!

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

Cormac McCarthy's The Road transports us to a barren post-apocalyptic wasteland. The sun never shines, the air is clogged with ash, and what was once civilization has been reduced to a Hobbesian state of nature with each man for himself, so desperate to live that they've begun killing and eating each other. In this decimated world McCarthy introduces us to an unnamed man and his son walking the cold, decimated road south to the ocean seeking warmth for the winter and hoping to find something, anything that will help them survive in this unforgiving world. Sustained only by their love for each other, the man's desire to preserve the life of his son though it seems to be no life at all, and the son's against-all-odds empathy for those left living, human and animal, the pair soldier on in a world that seems very nearly devoid of all life.

He crossed to the desk and stood there. Then he picked up the phone and dialed the number of his father's house in that long ago. The boy watched him. What are you doing? he said.

McCarthy's post-apocalyptic world is a dark and profoundly empty place. Rendered in his stark prose, it becomes as much a character as the man and the boy, an antagonist to their protagonist. Without so much as a quotation mark, McCarthy's spare style makes the situations that the man and boy find themselves in and their responses that much more affecting. As the man and boy travel the road coming upon the dangerous and the devastated, McCarthy explores the nature of good and evil, right and wrong and whether one can truly be one or the other under such circumstances. In the characters of the boy and the man, McCarthy examines the battle between empathy and survival as well. The boy has a wellspring of compassion that gives the reader hope for humanity even in its most dire state, but the man is forced to focus on survival and finds himself dueling against the boy's do-gooder instincts on many occasions. These are the most poignant occasions, and we, as readers, are forced to wonder about on which side we would be if these things happened to us.

The Road is a powerful and heartbreaking account. With only a few words McCarthy has the power to write the most heartwrenching of scenes. The love of the man and the boy stand in stark relief against the barren, destroyed world creating an island of hope for humanity even in the worst of times.

(Disclaimer - Book purchased by me at Barnes & Noble.)

Read other reviews at...

Things Mean A Lot
Where Troubles Melt Like Lemon Drops
It's All About Books
The Little Reading Nook

It's a New Year With New Books!

And like a magical switch had been flipped, I actually woke up this morning, and when I sat down at the computer, I wanted to write a blog post instead of thinking I should write a blog post. I'm hoping this is a sign of good things to come.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and a bookish holiday. From what I've seen, many of you have, and so did I! I was actually very conservative about the amount of books I put on my Christmas list, and I received three of the four that I asked for. I asked for and received Complications by Atul Gawande, an essay collection about the trials faced by the medical profession as written by a surgeon. In an unprecedented turn of events I had finished a book on Christmas Eve, and so was able to start one right away on Christmas, and I've been devouring Complications, a book I've meant to read forever and even more so since Eva has been known to gush about (and rightly so from what I've read so far!). I also got The Knife of Never Letting Go, the dystopian YA that any number of my bloggy friends have been going on about, but which I probably most associate with Nymeth's raving. Lastly, I received a copy of Listening Is an Act of Love which is a collection of personal stories from ordinary people as told to their loved ones in StoryCorps interview booths. I can't remember where I originally heard about it, but I do know that I'm quite excited to have it.



Now, just because I was so well-behaved with asking for books on my Christmas list doesn't mean there's been any shortage of books coming into the house lately. In fact, you may remember this post where I came to you enablers for your help not indulging in the Book Closeouts Black Friday fiction sale. As I was counting on, you all did not dissuade me but convinced me that purchasing myself some books was, in fact, the right course of action. With that in mind, I whittled my total down to a mere 7 (for a house in which the shelf space probably stands at perhaps -150 books right now). Yes, I'm ashamed, but I'm also pretty elated with the haul, too.

It consists of...

- After You'd Gone by Maggie O'Farrell (from which the text of my header comes, and which I decided I definitely needed a copy for my own collection)
- Stand the Storm by Breena Clark (historical fiction about freed slaves in DC during the Civil War)
- The Tenderness of Wolves by Stef Penney (more historical fiction that I've had on my wishlist for a long time!)
- Out Stealing Horses by Per Petterson (another that feels like I've wanted it forever!)
- 26a by Diana Evans (an Orange Prize for New Writers winner for my lapsed Orange Project reading)
- The Ladies of Grace Adieu by Susanna Clarke (which many of my blogging friends were talking up during the Once Upon a Time Challenge last year)
- Birds in Fall by Brad Kessler (which I have no comment for, but sounds really good)

And all of this doesn't count several review copies that have shuffled in in recent weeks, which I don't think I'm going to mention because I'm getting tired (and slightly ashamed), but which I haven't forgotten and will be getting to in the extremely near future once I finish the book I gave myself permission to enjoy with no strings attached for Christmas.

In other news, in one fell swoop I told myself that I would read more books this year, waaaay more books, and also joined Twitter. That's right. I've crossed over to the Twitter dark side after months and months and months of wisely holding out. Nonetheless, I went and got a phone with internet capabilities, and I felt like I needed something to make it feel like I was getting my money's worth out of it. So, Twitter it is. My name there is toadacious1, which is actually a weird screenname I've been using since I was in high school, so if you've got a sketchy follower with "toad" in their name, that's me. If you want to follow me, please do, and if you'd like me to follow you (if I'm not already), please do leave me your name, and I'll look you up! Also, if you can think of a few people or entitities that I'd really be missing out by not following leave their names, too, if you please.



All right, that's all from me for today, but I'll be trying to catch up with the blogosphere as soon as today's pork and sauerkraut eating is through. Also - keep your eyes peeled for the 3rd Annual Leafy Awards for Excellent Books Read in 2009!

In the Country of Brooklyn by Peter Golenbock

Aloha, everyone! I'd apologize for my absence, but I think I already did that. I've been busy spending all my savings on Christmas presents and car repairs, and in a few weeks, I'll be busy spending the rest of my savings on a new car (unless there's one in my driveway on Christmas morning with a gigantic bow on it - ha! That's a nice fantasy...) and a new laptop (as for the old one? hard drive failing). Luckily I've still got my dad's relic (it runs Windows 98! YouTube is phasing out its browser! Ha!) to type out the occasional review and to hack away futilely at the backlog in my Google Reader (even with the occasional comment so everyone will know I'm still here...somewhere). Amid the strife that this month has brought me, I've also been engaging in lots of Christmasy fun in NYC and at day long Christmas parties and attending a delightful "holiday brunch" at work and, of course, listening to Christmas music nearly non-stop and have thus managed to regenerate a good deal of holiday cheer that I thought was lost forever from a week or few of almost laughable bad fortune which prompted my loving father to rename me "black cloud."

And today, I have even more reason to celebrate because I've finished it. My arch-nemesis review copy. Peter Golenbock's epically huge oral history of Brooklyn, In the Country of Brooklyn, which I so foolishly requested from LibraryThing Early Reviewers not realizing how ginormous it would be. Now this book has been skulking about in various states of "readness" for probably more than a year, serving as the considerable base of most of my "reading now" piles that I'm not actually reading. As a Christmas gift to myself, I decided to finally get this monkey off my back (or, well, at least off my bedroom floor) and give my sad and pathetic reading page totals a boost for the year with its well beyond considerable 663 pages. The two of us have such a long history, that I almost don't know how I'll finally review it, but I think I'll manage....


In the Country of Brooklyn is Peter Golenbock's compilation of dozens and dozens and dozens and possibly a few more dozen interviews he conducted with various residents of Brooklyn throughout its last almost-century of history. Through the spoken experience of various average and important personages of Brooklyn through the years, Golenbock attempts to give us a sense of an exciting and progressive place, home to the entire spectrum of immigrants that eventually found their way to the United States, that spawned a variety of political activists, sports heroes, as well as an impressive array of cultural contributions. Golenbock uses his interviews to comment on Brooklyn's struggle and ultimate willingness to integrate its diverse population, the struggle to get government to recognize and respond to the needs of its people, its present efforts to rejuvenate parts of the community that have fallen into disuse and disrepair, and, given its length, much, much more.

Golenbock must have taken an incredible amount of time to speak with his many subjects and transcribe their words, and it shows. This book is packed with the thoughts and memories of countless people connected in some way to Brooklyn. These interviews make up the meat of the book. Most are interesting, and many are downright compelling. In addition, there are past and present pictures of Booklyn as well as of each of the interviews' subjects which is another definite addition to this book.

That said, if you're going to read this book, read it for the interviews. Golenbock's background and assorted "filler" information is at times, unfortunately, downright painful to read. Golenbock's wild generalizations and obvious political intrusions will bother any serious historian and any average person who happens to disagree with his views. The book's organization is also sorely lacking. While the interviews are a pleasure to read, Golenbock seems to struggle to make them coalesce around any sort of main point. Indeed, some of the interviewees, while interesting, seem to have only the most fleeting of connections with Brooklyn which, it seems, Golenbock might have been attempting to include in an effort to define Brooklyn in a certain way that doesn't quite seem to pan out. Instead what we have is a massive tome that, once you've passed the midway point, seems to drag on to some uncertain destination that is never reached. With a good edit for page count and organization and perhaps an overhaul of Golenbock's background information, In the Country of Brooklyn, with all its potent first person accounts, could have packed quite a punch, but as it stands, it will leave real history buffs wishing for something a little more substantial.

Disclaimer: In the Country of Brooklyn was sent to me at no cost by Harper Collins/William Morrow in conjunction with LibraryThing Early Reviewers.

Wild Roses by Deb Caletti

I will finish In the Country of Brooklyn before the end of the year. I will finish In the Country of Brooklyn before the end of the year. I will finish In the Country of Brooklyn before the end of the year. I will finish In the Country of Brooklyn before the end of the year....

Oh, sorry. Didn't see you there. I'm just a little bit busy with my token, how you say, Old Year's Resolution. I've got just over 100 pages left, and I'm going to finish it. Mark my words, because you don't read more than 500 pages into a book and just wander off. 50, yes, 100, yes, 200, maybe. But 500? No. I'm too close to let it beat me.

But I digress. Really I'm here in an attempt to catch up on the back logged reviews. So, I give you my review of Wild Roses, which, I'll have you know, is the third consecutive book I've read this year with a main character named Cassie. This was entirely unintentional and not just a little bit strange.

Cassie is the narrator of Wild Roses, and her life has gotten just a little bit confusing. It started when her parents got divorced, continued when her mother remarried mentally disturbed world-famous violinist Dino Cavalli, and got even worse when Cassie met Ian, a young violinist whose playing melts Cassie despite her usually being impervious to the power of music. Dino is off his meds trying to produce new work for an upcoming concert, and slowly coming unhinged. To keep him sane and focused, Dino takes Ian, who is trying to get into a premiere music school, as a student. Soon, Cassie finds that all the confusing and difficult parts of her life are colliding.

I confess I had a Child of Divorce Reunion Fantasy Number One Thousand, where I for a moment imagined my father finding out that Dino really was a killer woman and that my parents would have to get back together. I saw them running through a meadow, hand in hand. Okay, maybe not a meadow. But I saw me having only one Christmas and one phone number and only my father's shaved bristles in the bathroom sink.

Cassie is a great narrator, strong and smart yet vulnerable, serious but with a biting and laugh out loud funny sarcastic wit. She comes off as pretty normal and well-adjusted, but behind the scenes she's struggling with the fear and potential humiliation that comes with living with Dino, with the occasional irrational fantasy of her parents reuniting, and of course, with her feelings for Ian and whether she is willing to let him get close even though she knows that his very circumstances guarantee that he will soon leave. She's a veritable everygirl trying to keep up the front of being fine while dealing with trouble at home, parents that can't quite be relied upon, and her first feelings of real love for Ian.

I couldn't believe it. I loved my mother and I loved my father, but there in that circle I felt something I hadn't for a long time. It was something I'd been missing, that I'd been long for without even realizing it. It was a sense of family.

Wild Roses definitely has it pegged. Life with the paranoid and mentally ill, life as a "Child of Divorce," and life as a normal girl falling for a guy she knows she shouldn't. Other than a slight problem with pacing that probably results from trying to cover each angle equally and a finish that seems to peter out more than definitively end, Wild Roses is a sweet and honest story about real love, trust, and learning to let people in.