The Bookish Life of Nina Hill

 

I wouldn't exactly call Button Man a heavy read, but it wasn't light either. Yet after completing that book the other morning, I decided that I really needed something lighter to read. (Judging from what I've read the past few weeks, I think I'm at a stage where I want to read light fluffy stuff. I think this is the fourth light book I've read out of the past 10 books! 

The Bookish Life of Nina Hill by Abbi Waxman which I discovered while browsing the library website was perfect for my reading mood right now. It's about a young woman who lives a pretty solitary life. She works in a bookstore. Loves reading, loves trivia. Keeps a planner. Loves photography. Sounds like someone else I know. (Me, in case you're wondering!)

After living all her life having no idea who her father was, she gets a phone call from a lawyer letting her know that her father has died and she's invited to the reading of the will. He also informs her that even though she's lived all her life alone, she is actually part of a large family. She'll get in touch with her nephew and he will fill her in on who is who.

I gave this one 4-stars on goodreads because sometimes Nina's sarcasm - and the sarcasm of most of the other characters (really, everyone so sarcastic?) seemed a little forced. But otherwise, I loved the story.

Button Man

Button Man is Andrew Gross' semi-biographical novel about is grandfather's experiences in his rise to run a large women's ready-to-wear fashion empire. It was an interesting story about labor unions and the mob, most specifically in the garment district in New York City, in the 1930s. Lots of the names of the real life characters were familiar, but I didn't know much about them.

I hope I can hold all the questions I have in my mind straight until my book club discusses this in July. There really is a lot to discuss about this novel.

Morris was one of 6 children born to a family of immigrants in the early 1900s. The family came from Russia and Morris, the youngest, was the only one born in the United States. Of the four sons, Morris had the biggest dreams and the ambition to make something of himself. He's forced to quit school at a very young age, after the death of his father. He's lucky enough to get a job working for a clothing manufacturer. He aspires to do more than what the manufacturer thinks he's capable of, and Morris rises to the occasion.

Fast forward about 20 years and Morris has now started his own coat company. The unions are coming in to most of the shops, but the unions are run by the mob and are in cahoots with law enforcement and government officials. Morris treats his employees right and doesn't want to unionize because the way the unions are being run, they take away from the employees and basically end up "owning" the businesses. 

Besides being the most ambitious of the brothers, Morris is also the toughest and was never one to back down from a fight. So the story is about Morris having the strength to stand up to the mob. 

/In closing, because I'm persnickety me, there were two, or possibly three, little geographical "oops" in the novel. Two involved Ocean Avenue in Brooklyn - which is not in Bensonhurst and to the best of my knowledge never has been in Bensonhurst. I can't remember the other bit about Ocean Avenue that didn't make sense. (I grew up living only 6 blocks away from Ocean Avenue.) But there's also mention of a golf club in Tenafly, New Jersey. (I lived there, too, for a good part of my adult life.) And unless there was a golf club that no longer existed by the late 1980s that might have allowed Jews to become members in the '60s or '70s, then that was an "oops," too.

I'm looking forward to a good discussion of this novel with my book club.

If All the Seas Were Ink

I think the only book that I kept putting down and picking up and putting down and picking up that I ever finished was Uncle Tom's Cabin. I'm not sure what it was about Ilana Kurshan's memoir If All the Seas Were Ink that took me so long to get through it.

A neighbor of mine had received the book from her daughter, read it, only liked it, but thought it might be something I'd be interested in. I agreed that it sounded interesting so borrowed the book. It was around the time of the Jewish New Year (September). I was still (vaguely) content to sit outside, birdwatching and reading at the same time. And the concept of Daf Yomi, what  the memoir is focused on, was intriguing. It made me more connected to the fall Jewish festivals that we were celebrating untraditionally, alone, at home. The holidays ended and my reading tapered off. It wasn't until right before Passover that I picked it up again. That holiday ended and my reading once again took a pause. A little over a week ago we celebrated another Jewish festival, Shavuot, perhaps the final holiday I'll be celebrating at home, alone, and I decided it was time to finish the book!

What's Daf Yomi, you ask? It's kind of sort of like a Jewish book club, but instead of reading some juicy fiction or interesting non-fiction, you're reading a page a day (exactly what daf yomi) means, front and back, of Talmud, the Oral Torah and commentaries. At the rate of a double-sided page a day, you're able to finish reading the entire Talmud in about seven and a half years. Everyone who is reading Daf Yomi is reading the same page on the same date. Kind of cool. As my neighbor expected, I thought the whole concept was pretty cool. But wow, what a commitment someone has to read to complete the cycle. I guess that's why there's a big celebration at the end.

Kurshan is an avid reader, makes her living doing various things related to books. And her love of books shines through. That part, I really enjoyed.

I had mixed feelings, though, about how all the tiny details of Daf Yomi translated into Kurshan's memoir. I found the personal bits - the aftermath of her divorce, her running routines, her relationship to the synagogue, her second marriage, motherhood, being an American living in Israel - those are the bits that I found extremely interesting. Where she gives a bit too much information about a particular section of Daf Yomi, I would have preferred a more abridged edition. I liked the way she was able to connect what she was reading to what was going on at different points in her life. But once she got past the connection, I wanted more personal stuff.

I'd definitely recommend this for someone who is interested in learning about what it's like to participate (I'm not even sure if that's the proper word) in Daf Yomi from a personal angle. Or someone interested in reading the memoir of an American who is now making a life in Israel. You don't need to be religious or Jewish to understand what the book is all about.

Love Lettering

I never really expected to love Love Lettering by Kate Clayborn. I am so not  a romance novel reader. (And if I read a romance, I like the main character to be an older woman, divorced, finding love after a bad relationship.)

Like the last book I read, perhaps I liked this one more than I might have because it is set in Brooklyn, New York. In Park Slope to be exact. The novel gives a great feel for what it's currently like living in Brooklyn. Because I was familiar with a lot of the locations, I was able to visualize them in my head as I was reading which only added to my enjoyment. (It also had me really missing wandering the streets of Brooklyn. Oh, and the food. I miss the food!)

I came across this novel when I was looking for books on how to learn to hand letter. It's an art form and one I'd literally like to try my hand at. The main character of Love Lettering is Meg, a hand lettering artist who creates custom-made planners for New York City elite. I loved reading Meg thinking through her planner designs and what types of lettering she'd use.

I also loved how a secret message leads her to start a friendship with quirky Reid, a "quant"working on Wall Street. Both Meg and Reid are constantly looking for signs in what they see around them. I love how Meg, who loves New York, attempts to show Reid, who hates New York, New York City thru her eyes. When Meg and Reid meet, the only thing he likes about New York City is the food. Yes, the food! And both he and Meg love exactly the kind of quirky little mom-and-pop places to eat that I love and miss so much! Part of the way Meg tries to enlarge Reid's appreciation of New York City is through a game that Reid develops. I love that whole game playing thing, too.

Yes, this is a romance novel. But it's so much more. It's about women's friendships, parent/child relationships, finding a work/life balance. I think if you're like me you don't enjoy reading romance novels, you might not like this. Unless of course you're also into custom planners (I create my own very uninspired bullet journal). Then you might really like this novel a lot.

The Address

I enjoyed The Address, Fiona Davis' latest based loosely on the building and opening of The Dakota, the huge apartment building on Central Park West. The Dakota was thrust into the news when John Lennon was shot right outside. When the building was built in the 1880s, it was going to be the greatest apartment house anywhere. At the time, though, it was almost on the frontier of New York City, situated far enough north as to be almost rural. It's where the rich that didn't quite fit in with the mansions of Fifth Avenue ended up.

Mrs. Smythe was the head housekeeper at an upscale hotel in London when she happens to catch a small girl playing too close to an upper floor window. Mrs. Smythe, Sara, quickly runs in to save the day. She is then rewarded by the father, an architect, with the opportunity to move to New York and become the managerette of the not-yet-open Dakota. Seeing much more opportunity in New York City than in London, Sara takes advantage of the opportunity.

The novel alternates between the 1880s, when Sara first moves to New York City, and the 1980s, when the great granddaughter of the architect and some vaguely related "cousin" are working together to update the family apartment in the Dakota which has been passed down from generation to generation.

By now you must know that I enjoy books that are set in New York City. This was no different. I loved the history of the 1880s as well as the grittiness of NYC in the 1980s.

I was able to make connections to several other historical fiction novels that I've read recently. 

The Exiles because there were obviously more opportunities for women to change their station in life in Australia or in New York City

The Lions of Fifth Avenue because the settings were somewhat similar - famous landmark buildings in New York City

The Family Upstairs and These Tangled Vines because there was the inheritance of a home 

 

The novel had a bit of a mystery and a lot of history, although some of the history was twisted a little bit to fit the author's purpose.

I'd recommend The Address for those who like reading about earlier days in New York City. 

These Tangled Vines

 

The other night, I decided to drop Leadership in Turbulent Times by Doris Kearns Goodwin. It was the March book for my New Jersey book club. I hadn't realized that the book was so long until I got the book from the library's waitlist a few days before the book club meeting. I got about one-third of the way through the book before the meeting, and I've been going back to it between the fiction books that I've been reading. Without the motivation to talk about the book, I've kind of lost my desire to finish it. It's interesting enough, and I love Goodwin's writing style. But our times right now are turbulent enough and I need a book that will distract me.

When I finished Kindred the other night, I had nothing on deck from the library to read. I went to my kindle app and checked my Amazon Prime first reads that I haven't yet read. These Tangled Vines by Julianne Maclean was my May selection. The reviews on Goodreads were great. I'm still mourning over my canceled Italy trip from last fall which is why I'd selected this particular title in the first place.

Here's the blurb from Goodreads:

If Fiona has learned anything in life, it’s how to keep a secret—even from the father who raised her. She is the only person who knows about her late mother’s affair in Tuscany thirty years earlier, and she intends to keep it that way…until a lawyer calls with shocking news: her biological father has died and left her an incredible inheritance—along with two half siblings.

Fiona travels to Italy, where the family is shocked to learn of her existence and desperate to contest her share of the will. While the mystery of her mother’s affair is slowly unraveled, Fiona must navigate through tricky family relationships and tense sibling rivalries. Fiona both fears and embraces her new destiny as she searches for the truth about the fateful summer her mother spent in Italy and the father she never knew.

Spilling over with the sumptuous flavors and romance of Tuscany, These Tangled Vines takes readers on a breathtaking journey of love, secrets, sacrifice, courage—and most importantly, the true meaning of family.

These Tangled Wines isn't full-blown women's fiction nor is it a full-blown romance. I'd say it's more about life choices that one has to make as a result of romance. I loved so many of the pieces of the novel but was disappointed when in my mind, they didn't add up to enough. Being my nitpicky self, there were three details that no one critiquing noticed but that bugged me. Tallahassee is not near a Gulf beach. (Why was from Fiona from Tallahassee anyway?) There was a lot of coffee drinking in this novel. But percolator? If an Italian offers you "coffee" and you say yes, you will get an espresso. And in the 1980s, writers weren't parking themselves at coffee shops in Italy to spend all day writing. In fact, in 2015, the last time I was in Italy, I can only think of two "coffee shops" that I stopped into where sitting and writing even for a short while would be a possibility.

What I loved the most was when the "family" that worked at the winery in the summer of 1986 gathered together outside to have dinner. The food, the wine, the camaraderie... and I could feel the atmosphere. I wanted to be there.

I can't recommend this  novel nor would I not recommend it. For me, it was a nice break from what I've been reading. 

When can I go to Italy again???

Kindred

Of course, I've heard about Octavia Butler but I'm surprised she never really registered with me before. Then again, she's known as a science fiction writer and if you've known me for any length of time, you know that science fiction isn't really a genre I gravitate towards. My daughter kept raving about Kindred so I looked more closely at the synopsis and thought, "Oh, that sounds interesting!" Now I need to take a closer look at what else this author has written as I really enjoyed her writing style and her storytelling.

Here's the synopsis from goodreads. It will give you an idea of what I thought might be interesting to me.

The first science fiction written by a black woman, Kindred has become a cornerstone of black American literature. This combination of slave memoir, fantasy, and historical fiction is a novel of rich literary complexity. Having just celebrated her 26th birthday in 1976 California, Dana, an African-American woman, is suddenly and inexplicably wrenched through time into antebellum Maryland. After saving a drowning white boy there, she finds herself staring into the barrel of a shotgun and is transported back to the present just in time to save her life. During numerous such time-defying episodes with the same young man, she realizes the challenge she’s been given...

I've read my fair share of slave narratives, both fictionalized and non-fiction. In Kindred, however, the time travel aspect and first person narrative pull you into the story in a way that other somewhat similar books have. It allowed a contemporary telling of a story of days gone by. That made for a very interesting twist.

The character development is so rich. Issues of race are handled differently in other books that I've read. Butler really delves into our shared slavery history - that of black Americans and white Americans - which adds yet another dimension.

Kindred  is definitely a worthwhile read.

The Family Upstairs

The Family Upstairs by Lisa Jewell is the thriller novel that my old New Jersey book club is discussing in May. They're taking things day by day and won't decide until a few days before their 20th of May meeting if they are going to meet in person for the first time in over a year or if they're going to have one more zoom meeting. On the off chance they  have a zoom meeting, I read the book. It's not a genre that I normally read, so even if I can't participate in the meeting, I'm glad I was pushed to read something out of my norm.

The novel starts with Libby learning that she's inherited a house in a posh neighborhood of London from her birth parents. We quickly learn that Libby was found in the house at the same time that 3 adults were found dead in the kitchen. What does this all mean?

The story is told from three perspectives: Libby's in the present, trying to learn what happened in the house; Henry, the son of the family in the house, telling the story from the past; and finally, Lucy tells her own story which at first seems totally unconnected to the other two. Because of the way it was laid out, it took me several chapters to really get into the groove of what was going on and who was who.

Once I did, though, I really enjoyed this book and read thru it rather quickly. It's the type of book where you keep making and revising predictions and assumptions.

Some of the characters I really liked. Others were just plain creepy. I don't want to share what book I made connections with while I was reading as that might give away some of this story. In fact, I'm not even going to label this post the way I might otherwise label it.

I'd recommend this one.

Orphan Number 8

I finished Orphan Number Eight by Kim van Alkemade late last night and I still can't decide how I really feel about it. It's a story about a girl named Rachel whose mother is dead and her father has run away.  She and her brother, Sam, are sent to a Jewish orphanage in NYC. 

It creates a good picture of life in these enormous orphanages in the early part of the 1900s. Actually, perhaps it does not. Perhaps it only reflects what life was like in one specific orphanage in New York City, an orphanage supported by a  generous charity.

Because of their ages, Rachel and Sam are separated when they first arrive at the orphanage. Rachel is sent to an infant nursery where she is selected to become a subject in a radiation medical study. That's the point when Rachel becomes "orphan number eight."

The story is told along two different timelines. One is Rachel's story as a child, first at home and then at the orphanage and as an older child. The other storyline is Rachel as a 40-something nurse working in Manhattan, living in Coney Island. (I must say that I did love all the descriptions of Coney Island and of the subway rides heading to Coney Island.)

As pieces of history, this novel was fascinating. van Alkemade did excellent research in preparation for writing this historical fiction novel. As for the story, there was something that didn't sit well with me. I'm not quite sure what it was. If goodreads gave half stars, I would have given this one 3.5 stars. Since half stars are not available, I rounded down.

At my last Jewish book club meeting, initially this was the book selected for our next meeting. Shortly after the meeting, several of the members decided that they'd already read the book and as much as they'd love to discuss it, they wanted to read something new. (We're going to be reading Button Man by Andrew Gross instead.) I'm really hoping that one or more of the members of the club is willing to discuss Orphan Number Eight with me. I feel like this is a book that begs to be discussed and that it would make an excellent book club read.