Bibliophilia:
Margaret's favorite books

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Instead of just writing up a long list of my favorite books, I'm adding them gradually, with comments. I'll roughly categorize them as I add them, so that there's some structure. (See the cooking section for my favorite cookbooks, though, as those are a different beast entirely.)

Fiction
Children's and young adult
Fantasy and science fiction
Fiction - classics
Fiction -- general
Fiction -- historical
Mystery
Non-fiction
Biography and memoirs

Children's and young adult fiction

Joan Aiken, the Wolves Chronicles

Joan Aiken's Wolves Chronicles are wildly inventive fantasies, set in an alternate England where the Stuarts remained on the throne, making the Hanoverians the rebels and conspirators, and where wolves still roam even in London. There are eleven of them in all (and won't be any more, since Aiken sadly died in January 2004), and I think of them in sets of two or three.

The Wolves of Willoughby Chase and Black Hearts in Battersea introduce many of the main characters in the series, chiefly Simon, an orphan, and Dido Twite, a London guttersnipe, as well as Dido's family, inveterate Hanoverian plotters, especially her Pa, a musical but amoral genius. Nightbirds on Nantucket and The Stolen Lake chronicle Dido's adventures outside England (as does Dangerous Games, though it was written after Dido and Pa), and The Cuckoo Tree and Dido and Pa tell what happens when she returns. Is Underground and Cold Shoulder Road tell of Dido's sister Is, and Midwinter Nightingale and The Witch of Clatteringshaws return to Dido and Simon's stories.

Most people seem to think that the first three books are the best, and I'd agree with that; they have more focused plots than some of the later books. I do have an odd fondness for The Stolen Lake, which has Dido encountering ancient Britons in South America and an interesting Arthurian plot, but by Dido and Pa, I am generally happy to get back to England and Aiken's exploration of Dido's relationship with her family. Although the two Is books are very good, though significantly bleaker than the rest of the series (and Aiken is never afraid to be bleak or frightening), I was disappointed with the last two books, which are weaker of plot than the earlier ones. However, all of them are worth reading, and the first three are generally considered classics of children's fantasy; once you've read those, you'll want to read all eleven of them.

Louisa May Alcott, Little Women (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com), Good Wives (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com), Little Men (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com), Jo's Boys (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

It's hard not to love Louisa May Alcott's classic stories of the March family. Yes, they're often sentimental and preachy, but having imprinted on them at a young age, I still love them; they're full of emotion and splendidly memorable characters. Although Little Men and Jo's Boys aren't as good as Little Women and Good Wives (these are often reprinted in one volume and called simply Little Women, but they were originally two separate books, which I have in two separate editions), they're still worth reading in order to follow the fortunes of the March family. Something else I particularly appreciate about Jo's Boys is that Alcott feels freer to let the next generation of girls actually have careers, as none of the March girls really did (except Jo, and her literary career really took off after marrying Professor Bhaer); Meg's daughter Josie is allowed to become an actress, as Meg wasn't, and feisty Nan of Little Men is studying medicine and bound to become an excellent doctor.

Louisa May Alcott, Eight Cousins (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com), Rose in Bloom (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Eight Cousins and Rose in Bloom are far less well-known than Alcott's classic Little Women, and it's a shame, because they're awfully good. When Rose Campbell's father dies, making her a wealthy orphan, she goes to live with her aunts Peace and Plenty, where she is taken into the care of her guardian, Uncle Alec, and meets her seven boisterous boy cousins. What I really like about them is Alcott's emphasis on Rose's mental and physical development; through Uncle Alec's wise care and forward-looking views, Rose is empowered to become a healthy, intelligent woman. I also like the romance that develops for Rose; her eventual hero (whose name I won't mention for fear of spoilers) is, as one might expect, one of her many cousins, but it isn't the cousin one would expect after reading the first book.

L. Frank Baum, the Oz books

These marvelous books were favorites of my childhood; I remember reading the library's hardcover copies of them over and over (and lamenting the fact that they didn't have the tenth book, Rinkitink in Oz). Everyone knows the story of the first book, either by reading the book or by seeing the movie, but the rest of the books are equally magical, from The Marvelous Land of Oz, wherein we discover the true ruler of Oz after the departure of the Wizard, to Glinda of Oz, which showcases the wise Witch of the South. Baum's inventiveness never fails, and his style is that of a wise uncle, down-to-earth and humorous, never overtly moralizing.

The illustrations deserve attention as well. Though I like W.W. Denslow's illustrations in the first book, to me (and to most other fans of Oz) the true illustrator of Oz is John R. Neill, whose gorgeous, delicate drawings and paintings enliven all of the other books. In fact, Neill became so attached to Oz that he wrote several Oz books himself after Baum's death (as did many others, notably Ruth Plumly Thompson). If you can afford it, buy the Books of Wonder editions, which are reprints of the original editions, featuring all of Denslow's and Neill's artwork.

Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Even as an adult, The Secret Garden still resonates with me. Burnett's tale of a sulky, unlikeable girl who is transformed by her discovery of a secret garden is in the tradition of didactic children's literature, but unlike her sticky-sweet Little Lord Fauntleroy, it manages to transcend the tradition. Mary is a realistic child, sullen and spoiled instead of naturally good and sweet, and her transformation into a happy, unselfish girl is effected not through lectures and punishments, but through the gentle power of nature and friendship.

Helen Dore Boylston, the Sue Barton books

I don't know many people outside of my family who read these, but they've been comfort reads for me for a long time. Boylston started writing them in the 1930s and continued into the 1950s, telling the story of a young woman who becomes a nurse, from nursing school through settlement work in New York City to marriage and nursing in a rural New Hampshire community. The gender roles are fairly dated (especially in the third book, which deals with Sue's dilemma between her nursing career and her doctor fiance); I do like that in the later books, Sue feels some conflict between her family life and her professional life. The sentiment sometimes turns into soppiness, but the warm humor and the vivid characters always cheer me up.

Maud Hart Lovelace, the Betsy-Tacy and Deep Valley books

Maud Hart Lovelace was born in 1892 in Mankato, Minnesota, the town she later immortalized as Deep Valley in her beloved series of Betsy-Tacy books. These follow the adventures of childhood friends Betsy Ray and Tacy Kelly from the age of five, when they meet for the first time at Betsy's birthday party, through the school years to marriage and beyond. The books are based largely on Lovelace's own life, and I think this is what gives them their special quality of affectionate nostalgia and deep sense of place. The characters and the setting have history behind them; every year Betsy's family celebrates her parents' wedding anniversary by visiting her mother's girlhood home, where they were married, and on the drive home, their parents share stories of their childhood and Deep Valley's history.

Besides that, they're just plain charming. Betsy, Tacy, and all of their friends and family are vivid characters, and following along as they grow up, it's easy to feel a part of the group, to the extent that I always feel distressed when, in Betsy and Joe, an old friend of Betsy's suddenly drops out of the group and is barely ever mentioned again. (I was very relieved when I finally found a copy of Carney's House Party and found out what happened to him.) The illustrations are a large part of the books' charm as well: Lois Lenski's distinctive style in the first four books, and Vera Neville's graceful drawings in the others.

The three Deep Valley books (Winona's Pony Cart, Carney's House Party, and Emily of Deep Valley) aren't technically part of the Betsy-Tacy series, as Betsy isn't their main character (and has a very minor part indeed in Emily), but they're just as good. In fact, along with Betsy and Joe, Emily of Deep Valley is probably my favorite of all of the books, as it features a heroine who is, unlike Betsy, not really part of the in crowd; Emily is intelligent and well-spoken, but introverted, and much of the book is about her adjustment to life after high school without her crowd of friends, who have all gone away to college. Winona's Pony Cart is set when Betsy and her friends are about eight and features Winona Root, later one of the most vivid members of Betsy's high school crowd. Carney's House Party is also about one of Betsy's crowd of friends, Carney Sibley, and a house party she gives between her sophomore and junior years at Vassar.

Enormous thanks are due to Harper-Collins for finally reprinting all of the books. For years, the later Betsy books and particularly the Deep Valley books were next to impossible to find (even my library didn't have Carney's House Party or Winona's Pony Cart), but now they're all back in print, in lovely hardcover editions as well as softcover.

L.M. Montgomery, Emily of New Moon (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com), Emily Climbs (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com), Emily's Quest (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Emily Byrd Starr is almost the prototypical L.M. Montgomery heroine; she's an orphan who goes to another home where she becomes beloved of her new family, and she's a writer, who actually creates a successful career for herself. Emily is orphaned at the age of eight by the death of her beloved father (her mother died when Emily was much younger); as her father has no family, Emily is taken in by her mother's family, who have never forgiven her parents for eloping. Emily has allies from the start in her loving Aunt Laura and friendly Cousin Jimmy, but it's harder for her to win over her Aunt Elizabeth, a stern, dignified woman rather like Marilla in the Anne of Green Gables books. The first book, Emily of New Moon is very much taken up with how Emily settles herself in her new family, but the last line of the book betokens the direction the next two will take: Emily writes in a new journal, "I am going to write a diary, that it may be published when I die."

From here on, Emily Climbs and Emily's Quest are focused on Emily's creation of herself as a writer and of her career. There are, as must be expected, romantic and family issues as well, but it's the story of Emily the writer which makes these books particularly special to me. Montgomery's portrayal of the difficulties of the writing path is perceptive and often poignant, as Emily is torn between her writing and her family and love interest. These books are a little darker than the Anne books (at least than the early Anne books), as Emily herself is a more complex, less sunny character; there's even an element of Montgomery's interest in the supernatural, when Emily is shown to have a touch of the second sight.

I must admit to being less fond of the last book, because it's so focused on Emily's romantic travails, and the ending is dreadfully abrupt after the labyrinthine plot turns of most of the book. Still, although the Anne books are probably my favorites, the Emily books are easily my favorites of the rest of Montgomery's work.

L.M. Montgomery, Jane of Lantern Hill (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com), The Blue Castle (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Jane of Lantern Hill and The Blue Castle are stand-alone novels, not part of a series, but because I love them both for many of the same reasons, I decided to put them in the same entry. Both involve an unhappy, repressed, but imaginative heroine whose life suddenly changes, enabling her to realize her dreams, and both contain particularly lovely evocations of nature and the outdoors.

Jane of Jane of Lantern Hill has lived all her life with her beautiful mother and domineering grandmother in Toronto; one day she accidentally discovers that her father, whom she believed was dead, is alive and wants her to live with him for the summer. She joins him on Prince Edward Island in a little cottage on Lantern Hill and discovers a life that she loves, allowing her natural talents and confidence to blossom.

Valancy Stirling is twenty-nine, a quiet woman who lives with her overbearing mother and irritating cousin; she is taken for granted by her family and constantly teased about being a spinster, and her only consolations are John Foster's wonderful books about nature and her intricate daydreams of the Blue Castle, a romantic place with a romantic hero. When she visits the doctor and finds out that she has only a year to live, she finds the courage to live out her dreams at last.

Neither of these books is as famous as Anne of Green Gables, but they deserve to be far better known than they are (annoyingly, Jane appears to be out of print again).

Noel Streatfeild, Ballet Shoes (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

I'm fond of all Noel Streatfeild's books, but this one, being the first I read, has a special place in my heart. It introduces Pauline, Petrova, and Posy Fossil, orphans who are adopted by an eccentric geologist who then disappears for years, leaving the girls in the care of his niece Sylvia and her old nanny, Nana. When the money he left Sylvia runs out, they decide to send the girls to stage school. The story and characters are lively and memorable, and Streatfeild describes the girls' training and their dreams and goals with warmth, humor, and a realism which makes the book come alive. I've probably read it twenty times or more, and I find it delightful every time.

For some reason (presumably the success of Ballet Shoes), Streatfeild's American publishers decided to retitle many of her other books to include the word Shoes, even though most of them aren't at all related to Ballet Shoes (though two do involve the Fossil sisters peripherally: Movie Shoes, UK title The Painted Garden, and Theatre Shoes, UK title Curtain Up). All of them are worth reading, but just be warned that they're not really a series.


Fantasy and science fiction

Peter S. Beagle, Tamsin (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

I love, love, love this book. It's a ghost story about Jenny, an American teenager who is transplanted to an old manor in Dorset, England, when her mother remarries. The first-person point-of-view is an interesting switch for Beagle, who writes mostly in the third person, but it's very successful and just as beautifully written as his other books; he gets Jenny's voice just right without losing his usual lyricism. Along with ghosts, there are a myriad of other folklorish creatures, including an excellent pooka, and also lots of music, history, and plants, all major button-pressing things for me.

Pamela Dean, the Secret Country trilogy

These have been out of print for years and have recently been reprinted as part of Penguin's Firebird Books imprint, overseen by Sharyn November, to whom many thanks are due for reprinting these and other great young adult fantasy novels. I picked up a copy of The Secret Country at a used bookstore ten or so years ago and was immediately hooked, but it took me a year to find The Hidden Land and a couple more after that to find The Whim of the Dragon.

The books follow the adventures of a group of five cousins, who have played a game of make-believe in a fantasy country every summer for years, elaborating on the story every year. One year, Ted and his sister Laura are spending the summer away from their cousins (Ruth, Patrick, and Ellen, who have moved to Australia) and can't play their game; suddenly, all five of them find themselves in their secret country - for real.

The plot is intriguing, and the characters are well-drawn, but what draws me to these books more than anything is the beautiful and intricate writing. There are so many literary allusions and quotations woven seamlessly into these books and Dean's others that there's an entire web site (The Annotated Dean) devoted to untangling them.

Pamela Dean, Tam Lin (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

O I forbid you, maidens a', That wear gowd on your hair,
To come or gae by Carterhaugh, For young Tam Lin is there.

These are the first lines of the best-known version of the Scottish ballad Tam Lin, about a young man doomed to be given to hell by the faerie queen, and the young woman who saves him. It's a ballad whose fascination is enduring and which has inspired a number of retellings, of which Pamela Dean's is my favorite (followed closely by Diana Wynne Jones's Fire and Hemlock). Dean's version of the story is set in the Midwestern college of Blackstock (based on Dean's alma mater, Carleton). When Janet Carter enters college, she and her roommates, Molly and Tina, fall in with a small group of charismatic students, who are all closely connected with the Classics department and its Professor Medeous, an enigmatic but fascinating woman. As Janet wends her way through her four years at college, she learns more and more about Medeous and her followers and eventually finds herself entangled in their intrigues.

Dean spins Janet's story into the tale of Tam Lin in a slow, subtle, and gorgeous way. Hints of the unearthly begin early, from the ghost who throws books from the windows of Janet's dorm, to the mysterious horse riders she encounters on Hallowe'en. Yet much of the book's charm lies in its exploration of college life; it makes me nostalgic, even though I didn't go to a small college and my experiences were nothing like Janet's. The excitement of learning, the thrills of first love, the sheer difference of living on your own, away from your parents; these are all there. I think I'm particularly drawn to the book because of its interest in literature and in the Classics; I love the bit where Janet and her friends are going through the steam tunnels below campus and come upon some graffiti on the walls: the opening lines of Homer's Iliad, in Greek, whereupon the Classics majors read it aloud and offer a couple of translations (one of which is Chapman's Homer, immortalized in the Keats sonnet).

William Goldman, The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

"Fencing. Fighting. Torture. Poison. True Love. Hate. Revenge. Giants. Hunters. Bad men. Good men. Beautifulest ladies. Snakes. Spiders. Beasts of all natures and descriptions. Pain. Death. Brave men. Coward men. Strongest men. Chases. Escapes. Lies. Truths. Passion. Miracles." The Princess Bride has all of these things, and more. It's a marvelous fantasy adventure tale, of the beautiful Buttercup and the handsome, dashing Westley, of the sword master Inigo Montoya and the giant Fezzik, of the dastardly Prince Humperdinck and his henchman, the devious Count Rugen -- but that's not all.

Goldman's conceit here is that the original Princess Bride was written by a guy named S. Morgenstern, and that Goldman himself is simply abridging the book to produce the "Good Parts" version. Around the supposed Morgenstern book, Goldman wraps a story about himself and his family: how his father read him The Princess Bride for the first time, how Goldman learned to love reading, and how as a father he tries to find a copy of The Princess Bride for his own son. The way he weaves this together with the main story is sheer genius, playing with what's real and what's not. Are Buttercup and Westley real, or the countries in which the book is set (Florin and Guilder)? Is Goldman's family story true? What is fantasy, and what is reality? It's a brilliant mind game that turns a novel which would be marvelous with only the fantasy story into a modern classic.

The 25th anniversary edition is the one I have, and it's worth picking up even if you already have another copy of The Princess Bride. It includes a new introduction, which has interesting details about the movie, and the first chapter of Buttercup's Baby, which Goldman claims is Morgenstern's sequel to The Princess Bride. The chapter ends with a tremendous cliffhanger (hint: the title of the chapter is "Fezzik Dies"), and there's no evidence to show that Goldman's ever going to finish it, but you've got to read it if you're a fan.

Nina Kiriki Hoffman, A Fistful of Sky (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

I read this first in October of 2003 and loved it so much that it became a favorite book upon my third reading, in 2006. Gypsum LaZelle was born into a family of magic users living in Southern California; her brothers and sisters came into their powers during what the family calls a "transition" in their teens, but Gyp is in her twenties, hasn't transitioned yet, and thinks she never will. When she comes down with a mysterious illness, though, she comes into her magic...but it's not what she or her family expected. Hoffman examines issues of identity, family, and the responsibilities of power, with a sympathetic portrait of an unusual family group, an intelligent, resourceful heroine, and an intriguing magical system, with great powers offset by sometimes great costs.

Diana Wynne Jones, Fire and Hemlock (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Diana Wynne Jones is one of my favorite writers, and this is my favorite of her books. As nineteen-year-old Polly is packing to go away to college, she looks at a picture on her wall called "Fire and Hemlock", a mysterious image of flame and smoke; suddenly, new memories begin to enter her mind -- memories that reveal a childhood full of fantasies, yet full of dangers, a childhood in which she met a man named Thomas Lynn. In order to figure out what's happened to her, Polly must delve deeper and deeper into her new memories and discover where they came from and what they mean.

Fire and Hemlock is based on the ballad of Tam Lin, mixed with elements of Thomas the Rhymer and the workings of Jones's wonderfully inventive mind. It's gorgeously written, full of sharp images; listening to Tom and his string quartet practice, Polly thinks that "[i]f you were able to hear lime juice, it would sound like violins." Polly and Tom are wonderful characters, and Jones delineates their relationship with skill, as it moves from an adult and child friendship into something else.

The fantastical elements of the book are subtle at first and grow over the course of the book into a mystical ending, which I must admit is the one thing I'm not entirely happy with; it's a little too confusing (or perhaps too subtle) for me. Overall, though, this is simply a gorgeous, haunting book, one of the best from one of the best fantasy authors out there.

Guy Gavriel Kay, The Fionavar Tapestry

The Fionavar Tapestry was Guy Gavriel Kay's first venture into fantasy; he got his start in the genre helping Christopher Tolkien edit his father's unfinished Silmarillion, and to an extent, that shows in The Fionavar Tapestry. The story begins when five college students are invited by the mage Loren Silvercloak to journey to his world of Fionavar, the first of all worlds, of which all other worlds are but a shadow. Fionavar has many echoes of Middle-Earth: there are elves (the lios alfar), who are perilously beautiful and journey westward over the sea when they die; there is a great and evil power who breaks free of his prison and threatens the land. The Tolkien elements are well-mixed with other borrowings, largely from Celtic mythology, as well as fantastic beings like dragons and unicorns.

This sounds as though The Fionavar Tapestry is nothing but a pale imitation of other fantasy, but that's the last thing it is. Kay adds his own inventions to the older elements and creates a gorgeous tapestry (that's the only word for it) of a world. Although his writing isn't as polished yet as in later books, the emotional power of his language is stunning (perhaps more stunning than in some of the later books, in fact). I've read these books several times, and they never fail to enthrall me; the world and the characters feel vividly real to me. Perhaps Kay's later books surpass Fionavar in craftsmanship, but none of them surpass its depth of feeling.

For more about The Fionavar Tapestry and Kay's other books, check out Kay's official web site, which is beautifully constructed and has lots of interesting information.

Guy Gavriel Kay, The Lions of Al-Rassan (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Kay writes alternative historical fantasy at its finest, and The Lions of Al-Rassan is one of my two favorites of his books (the other is Tigana, below). The setting is based on medieval Spain, torn between the Jaddites (i.e., Christians) of Esperana in the north and the conquering Asharites (i.e., the Moors) of Al-Rassan in the south; the Kindath (or Jews) live in both kingdoms and try to coexist peacefully with the Jaddites and Asharites.

The main characters are the Esperanan Rodrigo Belmonte, the Asharite Ammar ibn Khairan, and the Kindath physician Jehane; their stories intersect and weave together into a rich tapestry of love, honor, and betrayal, against a wistfully and vividly described background of the decadence and beauty of the dying kingdom of Al-Rassan, soon to be swallowed up by Esperana. The language is beautiful, the characters are brilliantly alive, and the story comes together into a powerful climax which makes me cry every time.

Guy Gavriel Kay, Tigana (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Tigana was the first book I read by Guy Gavriel Kay, and it's still my favorite; for me, it has the perfect blend of complex story, strong characters, beautiful setting, and gorgeous writing. I would review it at further length, but there's a wonderful review at Green Man Review, by Rachel Manija Brown, which says just what I would say, only better; so go read the review, and then go read Tigana.

Robin McKinley, Beauty (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com), Rose Daughter (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Beauty and Rose Daughter are both retellings of the fairy tale of "Beauty and the Beast", written twenty years apart (Beauty was McKinley's first novel). Beauty has been a favorite since I first read it when I was seven, and it took me a long time to warm up to Rose Daughter, which is remarkably different from Beauty; now, though, I like it almost as much.

The overall plot of the two books is much the same, of course, and I won't bother to relate it, since it's a familiar fairy tale. The details and characters are entirely different, though: nobody could accuse McKinley of cribbing from herself. In Beauty, the heroine is not beautiful like her two sisters Grace and Hope, but bookish and shy, while Rose Daughter's Beauty is indeed beautiful, but practical and kind rather than brilliant like her two sisters, Lionheart (the bold one) and Jeweltongue (the witty one). While Beauty is infused with Beauty's love of books and learning, Rose Daughter reflects its heroine's more down-to-earth character; when she comes to the Beast's castle and finds his rose garden dying, she immediately starts working to save it. (My own new love for roses is probably a facet of why I appreciate Rose Daughter more now than I did when I first read it.)

McKinley has a wonderful essay on her own web site on how she came to write the story of Beauty and the Beast two times, twenty years apart, and I can't do better than to send you there for a look into the impulses behind the writing of both books. Read them both and enjoy the brilliance with which McKinley tells the same tale in disparate but equally marvelous ways.

Robin McKinley, Sunshine (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

When I picked up Sunshine for the first time and realized that Robin McKinley had written a vampire novel, I was almost horrified: it seemed a far cry from Damar and retold fairy tales, and vampire novels are certainly not usually my thing. But McKinley is easily one of my top ten favorite writers, so I sat down with it one night and got so sucked into it (pardon the pun) that I stayed up most of the night finishing it (which is a bigger deal than it used to be, with a toddler who gets up when he feels like it rather than when I do). On subsequent rereads, I've managed to avoid staying up all night, but it's been a real test of my willpower.

Sunshine is set in an alternate universe, where there are vampires, demons, and weres as well as humans, those who survived the Voodoo Wars but are now threatened by the increase in the vampire population. Rae Seddon, a baker nicknamed "Sunshine" for her affinity for sunlight, has an unusual interest in the Others, but no real contact with them...until the night she's kidnapped by a group of vampires. Her fellow prisoner is also a vampire, and their joint captivity creates an uneasy alliance. Even after their escape, Sunshine and Con are still linked, and Sunshine (another of McKinley's typically strong, practical heroines) discovers more about her world, her past, and her own powers as she and Con work together to defeat the vampire who captured them.

McKinley excels at creating richly detailed worlds, and she's done that again with Sunshine. The world is like ours in many respects (Sunshine describes something at one point as "half Quasimodo, half Borg"), but chillingly different in others -- in one memorable passage, Sunshine wonders about whether phoenixes exist: "I think the phoenix has at least a fifty-fifty chance of being true, because it's nasty. What this world doesn't have is the three-wishes, go-to-the-ball-and-meet-your-prince, happily-ever-after kind of magic. We have all the mangling and malevolent kinds. Who invented this system?" Con himself is Other: not just a human with long teeth, he is inhuman, which makes Sunshine's unwilling attraction to him particularly intriguing (and yet another of McKinley's variations on the "Beauty and the Beast" theme, which she makes even more apparent by having Sunshine retell the fairy tale to Con during their imprisonment).

Altogether, Sunshine is an unusual outing for McKinley in its subject matter and world, but her wonderful writing, worldbuilding, and characterization are fully evident and as compelling as ever. Oh, and you might want to have a couple of good cinnamon rolls lying around, because believe me, you'll be hungry for them by the time you're done with the book (I wish McKinley had included Sunshine's recipe for those). By the way, if you've read Sunshine and are wondering about a sequel (as I did, since there certainly seems room for one), check out McKinley's web site for the answer to that question.

Sheri S. Tepper, Beauty (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Beauty is a medieval maiden on whom a curse has been laid: to prick her finger on a spindle on her sixteenth birthday and fall into a deep sleep for a hundred years. Sound familiar? Yes, but...she avoids the curse and is instead kidnapped by a group of people from the future, a horrific place where people live in tiny cubicles and the natural world has been completely destroyed. Beauty travels through time and space and a number of fairy tales, recording her adventures in her diary as she grows from a shallow and spoiled teenager to a wise old woman, who has at last realized the importance of preserving beauty (with a small "b") in the world. Beauty draws threads from fairy tales from "Sleeping Beauty" (obviously) to "Snow White" and weaving them together with time travel, science fiction, and environmental awareness to create a rich tapestry of a novel.

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

I have to include this, of course, since it might well be my desert island book (technically, it's a book in six volumes rather than a trilogy, so it counts), but there seems little than I can say about it that everyone doesn't already know. Something that does always impress me, on every reread, is the richness of the world. Is there any fantasy world richer than Tolkien's? The lands, the languages, the characters - all have a depth that is still unsurpassed in more recent fantasy. Tolkien spent years creating his world, and it shows, in what he reveals and also what he merely hints at. For instance, there are the famous "cats of Queen Beruthiel", the subject of an off-hand comment by Aragorn -- we never find out anything more about the cats or their mistress, but just the mention of them suggests, as Tom Shippey says in his excellent J.R.R. Tolkien: Author of the Century, "that there is a world outside the story".

On my most recent reread (January 2004), what I found myself noticing most was the poetry, perhaps because it was largely missing from the Peter Jackson films (though I generally liked them). Aragorn's retelling of Beren and Luthien, Sam's ditty about the troll, Galadriel's songs in Lothlorien - they all add to the deeply detailed tapestry that is Middle-Earth and its people.


Fiction -- classics

Jane Austen, Mansfield Park (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Mansfield Park is perhaps not the one of Austen's novels which appeals the most to modern sensibilities; after all, reasonably faithful adaptations have been made of several of Austen's other novels, while Mansfield Park was changed into something Austen lovers barely recognized. Mansfield Park is the home of Fanny Price, the poor relation of Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram (Fanny's mother's sister), who took her to live with them from her impoverished Portsmouth home; Fanny is largely overlooked and taken for granted by the Bertrams, her other aunt Mrs. Norris, and the Bertram children, but she finds solace in the friendship of her cousin Edmund Bertram. When the Crawford siblings, Henry and Mary, come to Mansfield parsonage to stay with their sister, the wife of the clergyman Dr. Grant, they unsettle Mansfield society with gay doings and flirtations which lead to more serious events.

Fanny is self-effacing to the point of passivity, in marked contrast to Austen's more lively heroines, like Elizabeth Bennet of Pride and Prejudice or Emma Woodhouse of Emma, which I think is one reason Mansfield Park is somewhat difficult to like on first reading (and why it was changed so drastically for the film version); yet her moral sense and voice pervade Mansfield Park, and gradually, one grows to realize that she is a woman of deep convictions. When the others decide to put on a play of dubious moral quality and even Edmund joins in, Fanny resists everyone's blandishments to persuade her to take part; when Sir Thomas tries to convince her to marry a man she doesn't love, she resists that as well. She's no Lizzy, but she holds fast to her beliefs more than anyone else in this novel and emerges as a truly worthy heroine.

I wish that Austen had seen fit to match Fanny with a more interesting hero, but I guess you can't have everything. Mansfield Park does have much else to savor: the brilliant episode of the play-acting and the scenes at Portsmouth, unlike anything else Austen depicted in their portrait of family life among the not-so-well-off, are particularly masterly. It may be slower than some of the other novels, but Mansfield Park is one of the deepest and most rewarding of Austen's books.

Jane Austen, Persuasion (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Pride and Prejudice has long been my favorite Austen, but after several rereadings, I think that Persuasion may have overtaken it at the top of the list (or at least equaled it). The heroine, Anne Elliot, is quiet and unassuming and the story of her romance with Captain Wentworth could hardly be more different from that between Elizabeth and Darcy, yet it is perhaps more deeply felt and written.

The story begins eight years after Anne, on the advice of her friend Lady Russell, broke off her engagement to Captain Wentworth; now, at twenty-seven, Anne's "bloom [has] vanished early" and she is nearly an old maid. When Anne's father, Sir Walter Elliot, is forced to rent out their family estate, Anne goes to live first with her married sister Mary and then with her father and unmarried sister at Bath, and Captain Wentworth returns to the scene. The resulting renewal of their romance unfolds gently and tenderly, culminating in a deservedly famous scene in which Anne, debating with Captain Harville within Wentworth's earshot, movingly defends the emotional capacity of women: "All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one, you need not covet it) is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone."

I imagine that when asked which of Austen's heroines is their favorite, far more people would choose Elizabeth Bennet or Emma Woodhouse than Anne Elliot, yet I find Anne particularly sympathetic - a woman of deep sympathies, common sense, good judgment, and self-awareness. Her journey from resignation to joy is beautifully and sympathetically delineated by Austen, without the loss of her usual sharp wit.

On the movie adaptation front, the 1995 film, directed by Roger Michell, is exquisitely done, with wonderful performances by Amanda Root as Anne and Ciaran Hinds as Captain Wentworth.

Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

If I had to pick one favorite book, it would might well be Pride and Prejudice (or The Lord of the Rings). It's witty, it's romantic, it's elegantly written - what more could you ask for? Elizabeth Bennet is, as Austen described her, "as delightful a character as ever appeared in print", and her romance with Mr. Darcy is a classic of English literature. The dialogue is snappy (a favorite line from Elizabeth: "Is not general incivility the very essence of love?"), and even the less important characters are a delight, like the pompous Mr. Collins and silly Mrs. Bennet.

I have to recommend also the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, adapted by Andrew Davies and directed by Simon Langton. I can't imagine a more perfect pairing of Elizabeth and Darcy than Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth. Very few adaptations of books meet my (probably unreasonably high) standards, but this one does.

Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Jane Eyre was a shock to Victorian sensibilities when it was published in 1847, and it continues to surprise even today, in its portrayal of a plain-Jane (pardon the pun) heroine who is yet intelligent and passionate and in its criticisms of Victorian society and religion. Brontë drew upon her own experiences in writing Jane Eyre -- as a pupil in a harshly run school, where her sister Maria (portrayed in the novel as Helen Burns) died; as a governess; and as a woman in love with an older, charismatic man -- and perhaps it is the reality of her own life which makes Jane's correspondingly vivid, though it is also the sheer force of Brontë's writing. Jane Eyre draws me entirely into its characters and world as almost no other novel of that period does; Brontë's writing is so powerful and Jane's story so enthralling that I find the novel hard to put down, even after many readings.

Charlotte Brontë, Villette (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

I can do no better to begin with than to quote George Eliot, who upon reading Villette called it "a still more wonderful book than Jane Eyre". Villette is darker and more realistic than Jane Eyre, and more autobiographical (and perhaps thus even more powerful). Drawing on Charlotte Brontë's experiences in Brussels, Villette tells the story of Lucy Snowe, who leaves England in flight from a shadowy, unhappy past; she comes to "Villette" (i.e., Brussels) and becomes an English teacher at Madame Beck's school, where she meets the mercurial, autocratic Monsieur Paul (based on Constantin Heger, the married schoolmaster with whom Charlotte fell in love during her time in Brussels).

Lucy is a complex character: repressed, yet deeply emotional, cold on the outside (like her name), but fiery within. Her narration is reticent; unlike Jane Eyre, she holds back, never telling the reader everything, rarely allowing herself to show her feelings. A key passage occurs relatively early on the book, soon after Lucy has begun work at the school:

"Oh, my childhood! I had feelings: passive as I lived, little as I spoke, cold as I looked, when I thought of past days, I could feel. About the present, it was better to be stoical; about the future -- such a future as mine -- to be dead. And in catalepsy and a dead trance, I studiously held the quick of my nature."

Villette is not as easy to read as Jane Eyre. Lucy's reticence as a narrator forces the reader to reach out further to engage with her; yet her depth of feeling and her humor are engaging. I defy anyone to read fifty pages of Villette and be able to put it down; every time I read it, I feel as though I could pick it right back up after finishing, start it over, and be just as enthralled as though it had been years since I'd read it.

Elizabeth Gaskell, Wives and Daughters (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

I read Wives and Daughters, Gaskell's last, unfinished novel, for the first time last year and liked it so much that I decided to read it again this year and liked it even more this time. On the surface, it's a tale of English village life, harkening back to Gaskell's first novel, Cranford, but below the veneer of gentility and quiet humor, Gaskell offers up as powerful a critique of Victorian society as in her more overtly "social" novels, like Ruth or Mary Barton.

The heroine of Wives and Daughters is Molly Gibson, the doctor of a village doctor who remarries, bringing a stepmother (the manipulative but well-meaning Mrs. Kirkpatrick) and a stepsister (the lively, worldly Cynthia) into Molly's life. Although Molly resents her stepmother, she grows to love Cynthia, and their relationship with each other as well as their various love entanglements form the main plot of the story. Gaskell had a gift for writing realistic, interesting characters; even those with faults are engaging. Cynthia is a terrible flirt, jilting two men over the course of the book; yet she is charming, intelligent, and loving toward Molly, who herself is gentle, yet determined.

You might expect a novel called Wives and Daughters to be interested in underlining the traditional role of women in Victorian society; yet Gaskell questions it constantly. Cynthia, of course, defies it in her changeable attitude toward her lovers; yet even the more dutiful Molly thinks to herself, "Thinking more of others' happiness than of her own was very fine; but did it not mean giving up her very individuality, quenching all the warm love, the true desires, that made her herself?" Gaskell died unexpectedly before finishing Wives and Daughters, but fortunately for her readers, little was left to finish, and it's easy to see how the story would turn out. While naturally Molly is rewarded appropriately for her sweet nature at the end, Cynthia is also rewarded by making the marriage she truly wants to make, rather than suffering punishment for her inconstancy.

Nancy Mitford

Nancy Mitford was the eldest of the famous Mitford sisters; while her sisters Diana, Unity, and Jessica are famous (or infamous) for their politics (Jessica was a Communist, while the other two were Nazi sympathizers and friends of Hitler), Nancy was celebrated as a leading member of the Bright Young Things and a brilliant writer. She wrote eight novels, several biographies, and various essays, all of which are a joy to read, but The Blessing is perhaps my favorite of her books.

Grace Allingham is an English beauty; when she meets Charles-Edouard de Valhubert, a French marquis, at the outbreak of World War II, they fall in love and are soon married. While Charles-Edouard is at war, their son, Sigismond, is born in England, and when the war is over, Charles-Edouard returns and whisks Grace and Sigi (and Sigi's terrifying Nanny) off to France, where Grace is in for an enormous culture shock when she finds out about Charles-Edouard's many love affairs. Mitford takes a satirical view of English and French society after WWII, with a few pokes at Americans along the way. The plot is cleverly constructed, and as always, the narrative and dialogue are deliciously witty.

If you read The Blessing and like it (and if you long to know what became of Grace, Charles-Edouard, and Sigi), you should also read The Pursuit of Love, Love in a Cold Climate, and Don't Tell Alfred, which are essentially part of the same series as The Blessing and feature many of the same characters throughout. The Pursuit of Love was Mitford's fifth novel and the one that catapulted her to fame as a writer; it tells the story of the Radlett family (a thinly veiled, though exaggerated, portrait of Nancy's own family) and Linda Radlett's search for romantic love and is narrated by Fanny, a cousin of the Radletts, who is also the narrator of Love in a Cold Climate and Don't Tell Alfred.


Fiction -- general

A.S. Byatt, Possession (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Possession is a many-layered story, cutting back and forth between the past and the present, of two modern scholars who find a set of lost letters between two Victorian poets and go on a quest to discover the truth of their affair. I love its richness of voice: the modern-day narrative focusing on the two scholars, Roland and Maud; the poetry and letters of the poets; diaries, biographies, letters, journals of many other characters. On my latest readthrough, I found myself thinking a lot about the levels of meaning of the title, of how many things "possession" can mean; Roland and Maud are possessed by Ash and LaMotte and their search for them, while themselves seeking to possess their secrets; each pair of lovers negotiates their terms of possession of each other; and there's a very pragmatic question of who is the true possessor of the letters. It's a marvelous mix of academia, mystery, romance, and fantasy, written in lovely, rich prose.

Patrick Dennis, Auntie Mame (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com), Around the World with Auntie Mame (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Auntie Mame is the rollicking story of a boy who when his father dies is sent to live with his flamboyant aunt, the title's Auntie Mame, who has become an icon of literature, as well as of stage and screen. She's marvelously vital and funny, and Dennis surrounds her with more wonderful characters: her best friend, Vera Charles, "a famous actress from Pittsburgh who spoke with such Mayfair elegance that you could barely understand a word she said"; her secretary, the mousy (and wonderfully named) Agnes Gooch; the Southern gentleman Beau Burnside; and many more. Around the World with Auntie Mame has the feel of an expected sequel and lacks a little of the flair of the original, but it's still pretty funny and definitely worth reading along with Auntie Mame.

And I have to finish by saying that, as much as I like Auntie Mame, I think it's one of the very few (maybe the only) cases I can think of where the movie is better than the book. Rosalind Russell is simply perfect as Auntie Mame, and the screenplay brings out the depth of the attachment between Mame and Patrick that's not quite as evident in the book.

Patrick Dennis, The Joyous Season (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Patrick Dennis is mostly known these days for the sparkling Auntie Mame (above), but I think my very favorite of his novels is actually The Joyous Season, which is about a family whose mother and father decide to divorce, from the point of view of the children. It's narrated by Kerry, who introduces himself like this: "My name is Kerry, which is short for Kerrington, for cripes sake, spelled with a K and an E and not with a C and an A and is a very big name somewhere back in Gran's family. Like I told you, I'm ten years old -- practically eleven. I go to St. Barnaby's School because I have to be kept off the streets until I'm sixteen."

Like all of Dennis's books, The Joyous Season is frequently hilarious, yet the subject matter and choice of narrator give the book more emotional substance than most of his others. Kerry is precocious and funny, yet frequently naive and obviously much affected by his parents' breakup; he has an adversarial, yet protective relationship to his show-offy little sister Missy which is an important emotional keynote of the story. Many of the other characters are more caricature than character, but Kerry grounds the book in a reality that makes it touching as well as hilarious.

Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

"I write this sitting in the kitchen sink." This is the first sentence of I Capture the Castle, and it must be one of the all-time greatest first sentences (along with "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife," from Pride and Prejudice, and "There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it," from The Voyage of the 'Dawn Treader').

The narrator is Cassandra Mortmain, a 17-year-old who lives in a broken-down castle in Suffolk with her eccentric family: her father James, a writer suffering from a years-long case of writers' block; her stepmother Topaz, an artists' model who has a tendency toward outdoors nudism; her elder sister Rose, a beauty who desperately wants to escape the family's poverty-stricken life; her precocious younger brother Thomas; and Stephen, the son of a late family servant who is now the Mortmains' only breadwinner (and Cassandra's ardent admirer). Into their lives come the Cotton brothers, Simon and Neil, from America; Simon has just inherited the nearby Scoatney Hall, and Rose immediately sets out to capture him, thereupon setting in motion the train of events chronicled by Cassandra.

The foremost appeal of I Capture the Castle is Cassandra's voice and personality, which infuses the book with her wit, charm, and innocence and makes you feel as though you know Cassandra and her family and friends intimately. I've heard people criticize the ending, which certainly does not tie it all up in a neat resolution, but to me, that's a strength of the book: you feel that the characters can continue beyond the last page, because their futures are in doubt, and you can conjecture to your heart's delight about what might happen to them.

I recently saw the movie version of I Capture the Castle and was pleasantly surprised. No, it didn't capture the full charm of the book, but I thought it was true to the spirit and didn't make any major or annoying changes. The cast was on the whole wonderful, particularly Romola Garai as Cassandra and Rose Byrne as Rose; Tara Fitzgerald wasn't quite as I'd envisioned Topaz to look, but she got the character right (and I generally like her anyway). You can get it on DVD from Amazon.com.

Donna Tartt, The Secret History (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

The Secret History is a tangled, marvelous blend of college life, classical learning, and psychological thriller. The narrator, Richard, has just transferred to Hampden College in Vermont from his college in California. Early in the year, he sees a small, intriguing clique of students who study the classics (in Greek and Latin) with a professor who's very choosy about his students. Eventually, Richard is accepted as one of the group and is drawn into not only their studies, but their extracurricular activities as well, which lead to danger and ultimately murder.

I've read The Secret History many times since it was published in 1992, and it never fails to enthrall me. I have a weakness for fiction involving college life and classical literature anyway, so it's right up my alley. The characters are complex and sharply drawn; it doesn't take long to feel that I would know them if they walked up to me on the street, and their vividness draws me deeply into the plot. Tartt's prose is lucid and elegant, befitting a narrative laced with literary and classical references. As I say, I've read The Secret History many times; yet I feel that I could read it again tomorrow and be just as entranced as the first time I read it.


Fiction -- historical

Pamela Belle

I first read these books in April of 2003 and reread them in June of 2004. Normally, it takes more than one reread for a book to make it to my favorites list, but I knew as soon as I'd finished Wintercombe that it would be a favorite, and my recent reread only convinced me more.

The two books are historical romances, set in 17th century England during the Civil War. Silence St. Barbe is a good Puritan wife, whose husband Sir George is away with his eldest son fighting for the Roundheads against the king, leaving Silence in charge of his family home, Wintercombe, and the five remaining children. When a company of Cavaliers arrives and installs themselves in the house, Silence must fight to keep Wintercombe and her family safe, with the unexpected assistance of one of the Cavalier captains, Nick Hellier.

Belle's knowledge of the period is clearly excellent, and she shows it not by inserting large indigestible chunks of history which would distract from the narrative, but by infusing every page with details which make the surroundings and events seem real, from the political and military struggle between the Royalists and the Puritans to the everyday minutiae of running a household. The expected romance between Silence and Nick could easily be clichéd and predictable, but the characters (particularly Silence herself and her two stepchildren, Rachael and Nat) are distinctive and convincing and show genuine growth throughout the two books, elevating a standard romance plot into a captivating tale of love and divided loyalties.

The books are sadly out of print, but you may be able to find them through Amazon.com or Advanced Book Exchange (or, of course, your local library).

Gillian Bradshaw, the Byzantine trilogy

Gillian Bradshaw is one of my favorite historical novelists, and these are three of her best books. The books are only loosely a trilogy, as their only connecting thread is being set during the Byzantine period of ancient history, during the fourth and fifth centuries CE. The Beacon at Alexandria follows the adventures of Charis, an Ephesian girl who longs to be a doctor, while The Bearkeeper's Daughter tells of the Empress Theodora (an utterly fascinating woman, who comes to life in Bradshaw's portrayal) and her illegitimate son John, and Imperial Purple traces the story of Demetrias, a Tyrian weaver who is drawn into court intrigue. The Beacon at Alexandria is probably my favorite, but they all share Bradshaw's gift of recreating ancient history through vivid writing, three-dimensional characters, and just the right amount of period detail, illuminating without being overwhelming.

Susan Isaacs, Shining Through (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

What happens when Cinderella gets her prince? More than you'd think, in this wonderful WWII historical novel -- part romance, part spy thriller -- by Susan Isaacs, one of my favorite writers (this is her only historical; her others are contemporary). Linda Voss is a thirtyish, half-Jewish secretary in a New York law firm, madly in love with her boss, John Berringer, who's married to Nan Leland, the daughter of Edward Leland, a senior partner in the law firm. When Nan leaves John for another man, Linda's dream comes true...and that's just the beginning of the story.

One of the book's main charms is Linda's forthright, determined, funny personality, which comes through clearly in her first-person narration; this is no shrinking violet of a fairy tale princess Cinderella. Isaacs has a gift for outspoken, feisty heroines, and Linda is one of her best. Her journey from starry-eyed secretary to wartime spy makes for truly compulsive reading.

Annemarie Selinko, Désirée (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Désirée is one of those old family favorites which I've read many times and keep coming back to like an old friend. It's the sweeping story of Désirée Clary, the daughter of a Marseilles silk merchant, from her early love for and engagement to Napoleon to her later marriage to French Marshal Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte, who later became king of Sweden (and Désirée queen). Désirée herself is one of its chief charms; as the book is in the form of an ongoing journal, everything is filtered through her sparkling, direct, and charming personality. Historically, I find it largely convincing (though I'd still like to read a good biography of Bernadotte to see if her picture of him is accurate), particularly in the portrayal of Napoleon, who can easily turn into a caricature of himself if handled wrongly; Selinko makes him entirely believable, as an egotistical tyrant, but also as a human being. Although Désirée marries Bernadotte, it's her scenes with Napoleon which are frequently the most arresting and emotional.

Elswyth Thane, The Williamsburg novels

These are a series of historical novels called the Williamsburg Novels, which follow the families of the Days and the Spragues of Williamsburg, Virginia, through over 160 years, many generations, and several wars (from the American Revolution in Dawn's Early Light through the beginning years of World War II in This Was Tomorrow and Homing).  I have read them so many times (starting when I was about seven years old) that I practically have them memorized, as have most of the other women in my family. Each book focuses on one or two main romances, with other strands of story weaving through them.

Thane has two remarkable gifts which keep the books compelling through every read. The first is the ability to portray the events, characters, and atmosphere of the historical periods she's writing about convincingly and memorably. Thane spent many years doing research in the United States and in England, and she's able to translate her research into a richly detailed historical background.

Against this background is set Thane's other gift: her characters. You might think that in a series of seven books about the same family, the characters would tend to blend into each other, but that's not the case; every one of them is an individual personality. The nicest effect of this is that as the books get closer together in time (Ever After through Homing only covers slightly over forty years), many characters feature throughout the books, and you get to see how their personalities and relationships develop over time and how the romances central to previous books worked out. Rereading the Williamsburg books is like revisiting old, loved friends; I can remember meeting them for the first time, but it's even nicer to revisit them.


Mystery

Dorothy L. Sayers, Gaudy Night (buy it from Powell's) (buy it from Amazon.com)

Gaudy Night is easily my favorite of Dorothy L. Sayers's beloved series of Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries. It's one of the last in the series and thus hard to talk about without spoiling earlier books, as it deals with the resolution of the relationship between Lord Peter and Harriet Vane, the mystery writer first introduced in Strong Poison and seen again in Have His Carcase. (If you've read no Sayers, please read at least those two books before reading Gaudy Night, as otherwise you'll be missing a lot).

Gaudy Night is told almost wholly from Harriet's point of view, and in fact Lord Peter doesn't even appear until more than halfway through the book. When Harriet attends a reunion at Shrewsbury, her Oxford college, she receives a nasty anonymous note. Later, when the poison pen returns and starts to play other pranks, the Dean and the Warden invite Harriet to return to Shrewsbury to investigate the incidents; eventually, Harriet calls in Lord Peter as well.

The mystery is certainly intriguing, but what really speaks to me about Gaudy Night is its investigation into different ideas of marriage and of woman's place in the world. The vicious anonymous letters are directed against the female dons (who are necessarily unmarried, a requirement at the time), and cause great debates among them. As Harriet struggles to discover who the anonymous letter writer is, she also struggles to figure out how to maintain her sense of independence and of self in the face of her growing love for Peter. It's a fascinating debate, as relevant now as it was when Gaudy Night was published almost seventy years ago.


Biographies and memoirs

Helene Hanff

Helene Hanff's wonderful books chart the course of her lifelong passion for English literature. She starts in 84, Charing Cross Road with the correspondence between herself, Frank Doel of the London Bookshop Marks and Co, and a few others (Doel's wife, others at Marks and Co). After the success of 84, Charing Cross Road, Hanff was finally able to realize her dream of visiting England, which she chronicles in journal form in The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, and last, she continues the tale in Q's Legacy, the story of how she became involved with English literature through the lectures of Oxford's Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, affectionately known by his students as "Q".

Hanff's breezy, casual style is always a charm to read, and I think I enjoy the books even more than usual since I've visited London myself. Anyone who loves books and literature would love these books, though. And if you're interested in the theatre, Hanff's theatre memoir, Underfoot in Show Business, is an overlooked gem worth checking out.

Betty MacDonald

These are some of the most hilarious books I've ever read, and that remains true even though I've read them a zillion times. Betty MacDonald lived in the Puget Sound area of Washington, and between them, these books tell the story of her life, from childhood with her parents, grandmother, and siblings through her first marriage to a chicken farmer (in The Egg and I, her best-known book) to her second marriage and move to Vashon Island.

Betty's life was obviously not an easy one in some ways, and her books all have serious undertones behind the humor. The Egg and I tells the story of her life on a chicken farm in the wilds of western Washington, with a husband she eventually divorced, while Anybody Can Do Anything covers her attempts to get and keep a job during the Depression, after leaving her husband. In The Plague and I, she battles tuberculosis in a sanatorium. Even Onions in the Stew, written after recovering from TB and remarrying, recounts the difficulties of dealing with Betty's daughters during their teenage years. The soberness of these issues creates an emotional resonance which makes the books frequently very affecting. Yet Betty was all her life trained to be a "good sport", and the humor in the books is always uppermost.

My family loves these books, and even a brief snippet from one always produces grins all around, so I'll conclude with one of our favorite passages, from Onions in the Stew, in a chapter on food and cooking: "Another female household-hinter gave a recipe for a big hearty main dish of elbow macaroni, mint jelly, lima beans, mayonnaise and cheese baked until 'hot and yummy'. Unless my taste buds are paralyzed, this dish could be baked until hell freezes over and it might get hot but never 'yummy'." All we have to say is "bake until hot and yummy!" and everyone knows we're talking baaaaad cooking.


Last updated 19 February 2008.
All text and photographs © George Mitchell and Margaret Johnston, unless otherwise noted
Comments, questions, suggestions to margaret@lonelymountain.net.