Book Round-Up: Cozy Fall Edition

 Shady Hollow by Juneau Black: The delightful first novel in a cozy mystery series set amongst woodland critters. It reminded me quite a bit of Emmett Otter's Jug Band Christmas.

The Simplicity of Cider by Amy E. Reichert: This was basically a Hallmark movie in book form. Some aspects I liked, such as the protagonist's synesthesia, and other parts I didn't (therapy generally works better than the love of a good man).

The City Baker's Guide to Country Living by Louise Miller: This was a reread for me. It's also a Hallmark movie in book form, but with sex, alcohol, and messy relationships, which makes the inevitable happy ending more satisfying.

An Inquiry into Love and Death by Simone St. James: This was the perfect ghost story -- atmospheric, spooky, romantic, not too violent, and neither over- nor underexplained. I will be reading more of her books.

Still Life by Louise Penny: Another smart, melancholy Three Pines mystery? I've been reading this series backwards, starting with The Cruelest Month. But where do I go now? For real, I'll probably read no. 4 and maybe one or two others, but from what I've read the series has diminishing returns.

A Night in the Lonesome October by Roger Zelazny: Zelazy's last novel (and supposedly his favorite) is a fun mash-up of various literary monsters who gather together to bring about, or maybe prevent, the end of the world. It's narrated by a talking dog, too!

Book Round-Up

Mrs. Miracle by Debbie Macomber: The movie is a guilty pleasure at Christmastime, so I thought I should finally read the book.  The storylines are fleshed out more, and there were some subplots that were dropped for the movie.  While she has some genuine insights into human behavior, the resolutions of the various storylines were too pat.

And Then You Dye by Monica Ferris: another enjoyable outing with an interesting mystery and, as a bonus, the return of one of my favorite characters.  I am interested to see where she goes in the next few novels, because things seem to be gearing up for a shake-up of the characters and setting.

Death's Old Sweet Song by Jonathan Stagge: An enjoyable, old-school mystery, of the style they really don't write anymore.  It caught my attention because the murders are based on an old, old song I sang as a child (and sing to my children) -- "Green Grow the Rushes-O." The novel had some frank discussions of sexual mores and a touching subplot involving what we now call PTSD, which serve as a reminder that past generations weren't always as naive and ignorant as we like to think.

Are You My Mother? by Alison Bechdel: Bechdel's previous comic left me wanting to know more about her mother, so when I saw this at the library I snatched it up.  Unfortunately, it is more about Bechdel's own issues with her mother, and the therapy she's had over the years, rather than her mother herself.  Still, Bechdel's writing and drawing are as compelling as ever.

In the Land of Invented Languages by Arika Okrent: a layperson's guide to invented languages, and their (few) successes and (many) failures.  Okrent's writing is delightfully witty and down-to-earth, and she does an excellent job showing the idealism and tragedy that underlie so many efforts to build a better language.

The City Baker's Guide to Country Living by Louise Miller: your standard young-woman-flees-personal-and-professional-disaster-in-the-city-and-finds-true-happiness-in-the-country novel.  Miller's heroine is more unconventional than most, which was a nice change of pace, and the book made me both hungry for the delicious meals the characters made and nostalgic for my childhood in a small New England town.

A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, Jr.

I don't know what took me so long, but I've finally read A Canticle for Leibowitz, and it is one of the best, most engrossing, most moving books I've read in a long time.  The book is divided into three parts, each a window into a post-apocalyptic society as humans struggle to regain what they have lost.  Miller only gives us a few characters and a smattering of details about what happened, but it is a testament to his skill that he is able to evoke so much with so little.

Shortly after a nuclear war devastated the planet, the surviving humans have turned their rage not just on the leaders responsible, but on any literate person.  Leibowitz is a former scientist who converts to Catholicism and founds an order of monks -- "bookleggers" -- dedicated to preserving any scrap of scientific learning they can.  In the first section, 600 years later, the abbey is still keeping "Memorabilia" safe and hidden from the violent, willfully illiterate tribes around them.  As the novel opens, a novice out on a Lenten fast stumbles upon a fallout shelter linked to Leibowitz, something that has major repercussions not just on their mission but on the canonization of their founder. This section has obvious parallels to the so-called Dark Ages, after the fall of Rome, when Catholic monasteries copied and recopied not just religious texts, but Greek, Roman, and Arabic works, in an effort to preserve their contents.  It is from this tradition that our university and educational system sprang.

The next section is the weakest, but still worthy in its own right.  600 years later, humans are on the verge of another Renaissance, and a secular scholar from the city-state of Texarkana travels to the abbey to examine the Memorabilia.  Many people have described this section as a battle between faith and science, but that's not what's going on at all.  The monks, after all, have spent over 1200 years preserving what scientific knowledge they could, and it is a monk who is the one to rediscover electricity, much to the scholar's chagrin.  Instead, the point is that faith cannot be divorced from scientific progress.  Humans should not let their pride and curiosity outstrip their morality; just because you can do something doesn't mean you should.

The final section is the most moving.  Another 600 years have passed and humans are once again on the brink of nuclear war, having learned nothing from their own history.  All this has happened before, and all this will happen again.  Eden, Rome, America, Texarkana; the nuclear fallout is another Fall of Man.  And once again, a handful of monks are tasked with preserving whatever they can of faith, hope, and humanity.  It is tragic and profound and beautiful.  Go read it now.