strange and random happenstance

The Rook by Daniel O'Malley
Published by: Back Bay Books
Publication Date: January 11th, 2012
Format: Paperback, 486 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy

Myfanwy Thomas is a Rook, a high-level operative in The Court of a secret organization called The Checquy. She's hardworking, discreet, reserved, and unflappable. Give her a spreadsheet and she can work wonders. But she has a looming problem. Due to the nature of her job and the type of people and creatures she meets she has learned that she will lose her memory. Permanently. She doesn't know how, she doesn't know why, she doesn't know when, but she knows that soon she will be vulnerable because someone she trusts is going to betray her. Therefore she does what she is best at; she plans. She figures out how to tell the you she will become everything she needs to know in order to survive. Therefore on a rainy night when Myfanwy Thomas is surrounded by corpses in a London park the you that she was saves the you that she is. The new Myfanwy is told by her past self that she has two options before her, disappear into the sunset or find out what happened to her. There are two lock boxes at a bank, each leads to a very different future. The new Myfanwy was going to take the money and run, but she is attacked at the bank. Obviously her body's unknown past is going to haunt her unless she is able to uncover what exactly is going on in The Checquy. Which means she has to go into work on Monday and pass herself off as the Myfanwy they all know and love. Well aside from that one person trying to kill her. At least she hopes it's only one person. What if it's a cabal? But that's just letting her thoughts get away with her, but then again her thoughts all did go away and someone at work did it to her. So she slips on one of numinous bland suits, I mean did she really have this bad of taste? And off to work she goes. She has a sense of who she was from all the letters and the invaluable purple binder left for her, but it's kind of hard to spend all your time looking at your feet and avoiding eye contact when this world is completely new to her. She can control peoples bodies! Her complementary Rook Gestalt is one person in four bodies! Everything is so wonderful and strange. This isn't just a brave new world, this is a brave new Myfanwy, and she's going to live this life she's been given no matter what weirdness stands in her way. She might just have to survive another assassination attempt is all. Or perhaps several.

What I find astounding is given just the premise of secret supernatural organization the vast array of possibilities that authors have come up with. No two are alike and yet they all hold the same DNA, a dollop of the X-Men, a helping of The Avengers, no, the British ones, then a side of The Initiative. Aside from the giant great wallop of snark found here that skeletal framework can apply to so many stories I've known and loved over the years. Yet The Rook stands out. That is because the voice or I should say voices of Myfanwy Thomas are so unique. You love the her that she was, that shy overly precise workaholic, but on her journey to self discovering after erasure you come to love the her that she is becoming. But the sardonic narration isn't the only reason that I am so in the grip of this book's tentacles, it's the deeper implications about identity and trauma. When Myfanwy's powers presented at the age of nine it was traumatic. She injured those she loved and was then taken away from them creating a wound that would never heal as she was shipped off to the Estate and became the property of The Checquy. This event in her life lead to her associating her power with pain and therefore she's never really been able to utilize it to it's full potential. Her and her power aren't one. When that Myfanwy is erased from existence so is all her baggage. All her trauma is washed away in the rain and the new Myfanwy can't believe how easy it is to access her powers. She is able to do feats that the old her could never do. Which can be a bit problematic when you're trying to pretend to be the you you no longer are and start manifesting hugely improved powers. But at least the powers mean more protection. She doesn't have to touch people to control their bodies. She can shut them down and puppet them from across a room. Her powers weren't pain they were protection but the old her could never separate that in her mind. Which makes me wonder, what could we be without our past traumas? So much of therapy is about letting go, finding a way to reach our full potential. While losing your memory is a drastic way to lose your inhibitions, there's something so empowering reading Myfanwy's story. While we might not have had to do battle with cubes of flesh or prophetic ducks, we all know what it's like to be holding yourself back. To be unable to cope with moving forward. This is a cathartic read, a call to arms to heal the trauma and embrace the Myfanwy in us all by daring to go out in that red dress.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Amnesia, Assassination, Baggage, Cathartic, Daniel O'Malley, Gestalt, Identity, London, London Calling, Memory, MyFanwy Thomas, The Avengers, The Checquy, The Checquy Files, The Initiative, The Rook, Trauma, X-Men

We all order from Amazon, because it's fast and easy. They're the fast food of book buying. Which means it's not really good for you, it's just convenient. But keep in mind, they have an endgame. That is to outlast everyone and then hold the monopoly on the market. Which means that those few dollars you saved over the years will be given back to them tenfold. So what can we book buyers do? We can support our local brick and mortar stores! We all felt the pain when Borders closed, with a little joy mixed in for the deals we got, followed a few years later by the loss of B. Dalton. Look around you and you'll see stores are failing left and right. Toys 'R' Us, Boston Store, big chains and little mom and pop storefronts are going the way of the dodo to be replaced by the "convenience" of shopping online. Therefore it is more important than ever to get out of your house and go buy locally. This doesn't even have to be at an independent bookstore, though please support those too, go to your local Barnes and Noble, go and show them that their store matters to you, not just when there are events and book signings, but as an integral part of your life.

Why I believe so strongly in brick and mortar stores is that you form a connection to them. A connection that can never be replaced by just putting a book in a virtual cart. Sure, there's the staff you get to know and form a relationship with, but I think it's more than that. When you find that perfect book in a store you don't just remember how much you love that book, you remember where you were when you found it. You remember hunting through the shelves of the store and stumbling across it. The whole experience of finding the book and reading the book becomes a precious memory and that memory couldn't exist without brick and mortar stores. So this summer I'm going to make brick and mortar shopping my rallying cry! I CAN NOT lose any more stores to Amazon or the fickle economy. I am going to share with you the stores that I love and the books I found there. From local stores I frequent regularly, to the stores located regionally that I plan my excursions around, to stores I've visited once or twice on vacation that are located farther afield, and to the independent bookstores I've only ever dealt with online but hope to one day visit. Let's get this party started! Go out there and start shopping people!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Amazon, B.Dalton, Books, Bookstores, Borders, Boston Store, Brick and Mortar Stores, Fast Food, Independent Bookstores, Memories, Memory, Online, Shopping, Store Closings, Support Your Brick and Mortar, Toys 'R' Us

As summer drew to a close in 2015 my book club took advantage of the fine weather for our meeting and sat in cafe chairs sharing a Caprese salad while the last warm breeze teased the air. It was a day where you could feel the shift of the seasons, summer was ephemeral, much as the impression left by The Ocean at the End of the Lane. Ironically the member of my book club who put Neil's book into the hat was unaware of the unofficial book club outing two years previously, but somehow, the book getting picked, despite the attempted rigging to get The Martian selected, seemed right. The Ocean at the End of the Lane was coming full circle. We got to talk about our previous adventure but having now read the book there was a deeper meaning to that journey. What struck me, and the rest of book club, was that while we all rated it highly we agreed that it was a hard book to discuss, because much like summer, the book was slipping away from our collective conscious.

Much like the unknown narrator's continual memory loss as to what exactly happened in those days with the Hempstocks, this is a book that you enjoy while reading yet somehow when you finish you don't quite remember what happened. Oddly enough I don't think that this is a deterrent for the book. I think often of A Wrinkle in Time and how many endless occasions have led to me re-reading that book since it was first read aloud to me in forth grade, and yet I can not for the life of me tell you what exactly happens in that book. Yet both these books leave behind this feeling of childhood and hopes and dreams and endless possibilities that are just there for the taking. They are both classics in that they capture something true. Something crucial to hope and life. Now The Ocean at the End of the Lane might not be my favorite book by Gaiman, but I connect it to hope, and these wonderful experiences I have had with my friends, and that is pure magic.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Wrinkle in Time, Book Clubs, Fall, Gaiman Gala, Gaiman Reminiscence, Hempstocks, Memory, Neil Gaiman, Summer, The Martian, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

The House at Tyneford by Natasha Solomons
Published by: Plume
Publication Date: December 27th, 2011
Format: Paperback, 368 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy

Vienna is Elise's home. There all the trappings of the glittering life she leads seem immutable. She will always go to the opera house to hear her mother Anna sing. She will always be jealous of her sister Margot's musical talents that form a special bond between Margot and Anna. She will always take pride in her father Julian, the "strange" writer. Because her life is for always. Until it isn't. Vienna is no longer safe for Jews. Margot's husband has gotten a job in California and they are to leave shortly; Anna and Julian are waiting for visas to go to New York. But Elise poses a problem. The plan is for Anna and Julian to send for her once they get to New York, but they are too scared to leave her behind. Therefore they decide that their best option is for Elise to go into service as a maid in England. There she will be safe until she can join her family in America. She gets a job in Dorset at Tyneford for a Mr. Rivers. The house seems cut off from the rest of the world and so different from the life she left behind.

Elise struggles not just with her tasks but with her English, feeling isolated from all that she held dear. The life she is living isn't what she expected and the other servants don't make her feel welcome. She just doesn't fit. She wasn't raised to be a servant, yet she doesn't quite belong upstairs either. She is living in limbo just hoping to hear from her family. Yet with the arrival of Mr. Rivers's son Kit life becomes easier and more complicated at the same time. Kit helps Elise with her English and his presence makes her work easier to bear. Though it is apparent to everyone that they are falling in love and this upstairs, downstairs romance is problematic to say the least. As the world descends into chaos with the outbreak of World War II the world that they knew will be destroyed. Elise struggles to hold onto this new life she has grown to love all while holding out hope that her family will join her and life can be as it was. Little does Elise know nothing will ever be the same again, even this new life she has come to love.

When writing a book you can't set out to write a classic. Your book attains that status over time, it's not something that you, as the author, have any control over. You just don't and if you can't accept this perhaps you shouldn't be a writer. Moreover, when writing a book it's best to not emulate a classic but to find your own voice. Your book will never be that classic you so want to replicate and I have never believed the old saying that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Therefore I had problems connecting with The House at Tyneford. Solomons so wanted her book to be Du Maurier's classic Rebecca that at times you feel as if she is trying to drive the point home with a blunt instrument. The thing about aping Du Maurier is that more than any other author there is no one like her so you should never try. She has an effortless way of describing her surroundings so that the lush and verdant foliage leap off the page. Solomons flowers lay limply in the hot sun. But the number one thing you shouldn't do is call out what you were attempting to do by having your characters go and see the Hitchcock adaptation of Rebecca! Solomons would occasionally find her own footing to fall over the big illuminated arrows showing how she could never be Du Maurier.

The House at Tyneford isn't a book for subtlety. It's not just the Du Maurier debacle, it's that Solomons paints her story with big strokes trying to capture the epicness of her narrative. That her story is a microcosm of what is being played out on the world stage is obvious, she just didn't need to make it so obvious. It was the day to day struggles and the relationships forged between the characters that I was most drawn to, and yet as the narrative progressed this is what she left by the wayside in favor of grand gestures. When all the players leave Tyneford for the last time it's as if Solomons decided to severe all ties with this world and these people we have come to love. We never learn the fate of any of Elise's fellow servants. We don't even get any insight into Elise's life after Tyneford. Because to Solomons this doesn't matter. It would be too finicky and delicate, not bold and brash enough. This is, after all, a book that loves wallow in the Freudian cigar imagery. Yes, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar... but not when Solomons is writing.

But then again, having your entire story be an updating of Cinderella... well, that doesn't take much imagination now does it? Which lead me to start thinking about the Cinderella story. Here it fits more than most, because it isn't a simple rags to riches fable, it's love and comfort to drudgery to rescue. This is exactly the trajectory that Elise's life takes. And while I do love a happily ever after and a restoring of the status quo, when does this trope get played out? When do we say enough with the fairy tales give me something more real. Yes, you could say that this is more real with Elise and her plight, but still, the ending makes it fairy tale airy fairy. The heart of what I'm getting at is is Cinderella played out? I'm sure Kenneth Branagh would probably totally disagree with me because his adaptation last year is the highest grossing film he's ever done. But I really would like something new, some new twist. I would have liked to have heard Solomons voice coming through in this book instead of her trying to emulate other voices.

Despite some of the more cookie cutter aspects of The House at Tyneford, there are interesting concepts that are raised. Most of them aren't necessarily expanded on, but then again, I dwell in books and therefore a passing line can provide hours of thought. I found it interesting when the butler, Mr. Wrexham, said to Elise "you are to be the end of us all." While it's a bit doom and gloom coming from this very upright man I wonder was it so much Elise that he meant or was it what she symbolized. Was Elise a symptom of the end of the country house era or a cause? In other words, with the war creating all these refugees that then sought service in English country houses was it the war that ended this way of life, or was it the people displaced by war who upset the system from the inside? Personally, I think it was the war forever irreparably changing the landscape, but then again, in this instance, being the events at Tyneford, I would say that it was Elise. Yes their life would have change, but not in the same way. Therefore in this place and this time it's Elise.

Now that I've brought up the war in a little more detail I'd like to tackle something that irked me. Throughout the book Solomons does a great job connecting Elise and music, in fact you can't help say her name without thinking of the Beethoven composition. Music to Elise is her family and what they represent. When she leaves Vienna with the viola with Julian's manuscript hidden inside she is given a tangible and musical connection to those she loves. When one thinks of World War II and string instruments one cannot help but think of John Williams's haunting theme for Schindler's List as performed by Itzhak Perlman. At the very end of The House at Tyneford there is a composition written in honor of Elise's family, The Novel in the Viola: Concerto in D Minor for Viola and Orchestra. My problem is here we aren't given the chance to use our imagination. We aren't allowed to picture music and lasting resonance like that written by John Williams. There is an actual score and on Solomons website you can listen to it being preformed. It's not just that it's lackluster, it's that it makes something in the book so finite. Books need to have room for the readers to interpret. To bring their own experiences. To write the music and make it so uninspired takes away from the rest of the story.

The sad fact is I liked this book in spite of itself. Solomons undermines her own writing time and time again and if it wasn't for little things here and there I would write it off as a Du Maurier pastiche. It was the little things that made me like it. My most favorite moment was an aside by Kit when talking about his mother who died when he was four. He said that he no longer remembered her. He knew that he should because he was old enough. He even remembered events that she was a part of only she was no longer there. It was as if she had been cut out of the memories. This touched a nerve with me. There are people I have lost and in particular one wonderful kitty. I worry that I am forgetting, I worry that I am rewriting my own story. He has been gone so long that I can't remember the day to day. The way he felt on my lap. It's like there's this emptiness that he used to fill and he's been so entirely removed that I can't remember him. I can see why Elise writes down her story and places it in the viola. She didn't want to have this happen because she knew that at some point it must. It happened to Kit and she doesn't want it happening to her memories of him. A bittersweet thought. But then this book is filled with the bitter meeting the sweet.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: British Country House, Cigar, Cinderella, Daphne Du Maurier, Downton Denial Denouement, Freud, Hitchcock, John Williams, Kenneth Branagh, Memory, Natasha Solomons, Rebecca, The House at Tyneford, Vienna, Viola, WWII