Queen Anne Books

Jhumpa Lahiri's new collection of stories, Unaccustomed Earth, is a very impressive follow-up to her wonderful award-winning Interpreter of Maladies. These stories are longer (there are only seven in the book) but she employs that same eye for detail and the same excellent writing. Each of the stories gave me pause, compelling me to think something over or wonder about the character's future, and a couple of them were quite suspenseful, in a dramatic way (as opposed to thrilling). Most of the themes are familiar occurrences that one may face in life: caring for aging parents, fulfilling parents' expectations, romantic troubles, adolescence, addiction, relocation. But all of the characters struggle with the additional complication of trying to combine or balance two very different cultures: Indian and American. The last three stories are connected, and while I don't want to give away anything, I will tell you that they are amazing and intense. So, as with Lahiri's Namesake, there is a lot to be learned from this book, about cultural identity and the challenges of fitting while maintaining one's intense familial traditions. And they're just really enjoyable. Even if you are not a short story fan, you will enjoy this amazing work.~ Hilary

If you liked Lee Martin's first book, The Bright Forever, I think you will like this one. Yes, it's dark, but it has many heartwarming moments and it lays out some thought-provoking themes on relationships, regrets, honesty, family ties, and human kindness. Sam Brady is a 65-year old man, living a solitary life with only his basset hound, Stump, for companionship. Suddenly his long lost brother re-enters his life, bringing some serious Trouble with him, and also dredging up Sam's memories of a life-altering (and, until now, secret) childhood event. Several likable characters also come into Sam's universe -- his neighbor, Arthur; Arthur's granddaughter, Maddie; and a zesty local widow named Vera. Mayhem ensues. Of course, I can't tell you how it ends... but I will tell you that even though I don't usually fall for animal characters, I think that Stump, the basset hound, just about stole the show. ~ Hilary

I’ll be honest -- I wouldn’t have read this memoir if I wasn’t going to have dinner with the author. A memoir of growing up in Africa? It’s been done and done very well (Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight by Fuller). But when you’re invited to a nice dinner it is only polite to read the book, so I did and what a wonderful surprise!

Robyn Scott was the oldest of three children of Linda and Keith Scott. She was six years old when her family decided to move from New Zealand back to Botswana so her father could run a flying doctor practice (using a small plane to fly between his clinics). Linda and Keith are… um… unusual parents. They were (and are) highly-educated, loving, free-thinking liberals steeped with unique ideas about parenting. Their first job after arriving in Botswana? Transform a cowshed, which happens to be across the road from Keith’s exceedingly eccentric (and hilarious) father and stepmother, into their first home. Then, despite the pleas of grandparents, Linda decided home schooling would be best for her children in order to preserve their natural inquisitiveness and childhood joy. However, her teaching style rarely required lessons or actual studies. Instead the children were encouraged to learn by exploring the fascinating place they called home. After reading this beautifully written memoir and meeting its articulate young author, I have to wonder if Linda’s teaching style was really so bad.

In addition to Robyn’s interesting and often funny stories of her childhood, I was also very interested in the Botswana history she shared. Her father was running his clinics when the HIV/AIDS epidemic took hold in Africa and reading her accounts of those frustrating and tragic days added a new perspective to what’s still happening there.

Robyn Scott’s memoir is a great example of why I still read biographies -- it puts an intimate viewpoint on world events. ~Patti

Mary Oliver is my favorite contemporary poet. Her eye, her voice - her aesthetic - combine to provide comfort for my soul. When she was recently at Seattle Arts & Lectures, I was sitting only about fifteen rows from this remarkable woman and decided, once again, that I want to grow up to be just like Mary Oliver. So a new book of poetry from the lady is great cause for celebration.

In Red Bird, Oliver once again gives expression to her beloved natural world, to her newly reclaimed faith, to the grief she continues to feel at the loss of her partner, and to (of course) her dog, Percy.

In the midst of this crazy election season, what could be better than this? From "Swimming, One Day in August":
About tomorrow, who knows anything.
Except that it will be time, again
For the deepening and quieting of the spirit.

~Patti

Several authors have fictionalized the lives of artists to illuminate the artist's work, their history and their lives. If you don't include The Agony and the Ectasy by Irving Stone (which was written in 1961), Tracy Chavalier may have started the trend with The Girl With a Pearl Earring (about Vermeer) followed closely by Susan Vreeland's novel about a Vermeer painting, The Girl in Hyacinth Blue. More recently there have been The Painted Kiss by Elizabeth Hickey (about Klimt) and Leonardo's Swans by Karen Essex (da Vinci). But I have particularly enjoyed the novels expounding on the lives of women artists and their struggle to pursue their art in a world where women's lives were generally dictated by cultural expectations. Susan Vreeland has written two good examples: The Passion of Artemisia (about Artemisia Gentileschi) and The Forest Lover (about Emily Carr). Now Jennifer Cody Epstein has brought to life another remarkable artist, Pan Yuliang of China. I have to admit, however, I was about one-third of the way through The Painter From Shanghai before I caught onto the fact that Pan Yuliang was someone from history.

Pan Yuliang was born in 1899 (or 1895? depending on the source). Her parents died when she was a young girl and she was taken in by her uncle, a charming and intelligent opium smoker. When she turned fourteen, her uncle sold her to a brothel where she learned the secrets of pleasing men and, ultimately, surviving in a world particularly cruel to women. Later she became the courtesan for a government official and then his second wife. And finally, with her husband's encouragement and support, she is drawn to art and painting. She worked hard, studied harder, and won a scholarship to study in Paris and Rome where she pursued a Western style of painting. Always in the background of this extraordinary life is the politics and turmoil of 20th century China.

Epstein has written a beautifully-crafted, intelligent and thoroughly entertaining novel about Pan Yuliang. I savored every moment of this book and it was particularly fun, once I realized she actually existed, to go onto the internet and look at her many paintings. The one in the upper right corner of this review is a self-portrait of Madame Pan from 1945. ~Patti

I admit that growing up I was most definitely a bookworm, and the highlight of the week was my trip to the library. Our library was small, so I read many of the books over and over and felt as if I really knew the characters. Lois Lowry’s The Willoughbys is a parody of all those stories that I loved so much as a child, and I could not have enjoyed it more. The Willoughby children consider themselves to be old-fashioned, and their parents are not the type that anyone would hope for. As a result, the children decide they should be orphans, just like the kids they read about in books. Lowry references and pokes fun at the clichés that fill so many of our favorite childhood stories. But even if you’ve never read Anne of Green Gables or Pollyanna, you will still enjoy the wicked humor, quirky characters and fun, fast moving plot. You might even be inspired to pick up one of those classics. The Willoughbys will especially appeal to anyone -- kid or adult -- who is a fan of Lemony Snicket or Roald Dahl. Make sure you don’t skip the glossary and bibliography at the end. They are almost as much fun as the book! ~ Torrie