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Showing posts with label off the bookshelf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label off the bookshelf. Show all posts

Friday, June 26, 2015

off the bookshelf: hausfrau by jill alexander essbaum


I picked up this book on a whim for our trip to Bali. I'm glad I did and read it in about four days.

Admittedly, this book is a bit racy. It's the story, though, that pulled me in. Anna Benz is an expat living in Switzerland with her husband Bruno. They have three children and she is, as the title suggests, a housewife. From this, though, comes her discontent, her boredom, her isolation. A number of affairs leave her unsure of what to do next, and unsure of who she is, as if she feels increasingly separated from who she thinks she might be or should be.

This book is beautifully written. I felt compelled to read it with every turn of the page. I was still thinking of Anna's story long after the story ended. It made me think, it made me question, it made me reflect. I think I was trying to connect with Anna the whole time, and there were times I could, but it was both difficult and made me wary. I wanted to yell at her, at her stupidity, and I wanted to break down and cry with her, offering her a hug as though we were longtime friends. While the cover illustration makes it look lovely at first glance, Hausfrau is a sad and heart-wrenching story of a woman lost, one that played with my emotions and that I really enjoyed reading.

Friday, February 20, 2015

why we broke up: part 2

I can't wait to understand why they broke up. I'm about halfway through and it's all sort of... theoretical? Although she ends each part (pretty much) with "and that's why we broke up," there's nothing tangible. I can't figure it out; I don't get it yet.

There has to be something that happens, is done, but there's no reference yet. I read a review that says page 335 was heart-wrenching. I'll have to wait for it?

I love young adult literature. Everything is so weighty and important and I find that hilarious and real at the same time. In a "we've all been there" sort of way. Plus, it's hard to help someone else make sense of all our thoughts, so maybe that's a big part (?) of my confusion about it all.

The art is really cool.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

close reading: why we broke up

Today in a PD session with Kathy Collins (I don't know how to link her, really? Her Twitter feed sort of ends in August last year... I know that doesn't sound great, but I've been inspired the whole time she's been at our school.), we were asked to do a little "close reading" of Daniel Handler's Why We Broke Up.
Kathy shared with us the first chapter:


She said something like, "Talk about it. What do you notice?" 
So a colleague and I did that - we analyzed, we made inferences, we drew conclusions... based only on those few paragraphs. It was getting intense - we were digging. We were on fire.

But really, none of what we had said had any significance at all, anymore, when another colleague who had left the room in the meantime, came back without a clue and sat down to read it over in thirty seconds, turned to us to say, "She committed suicide. Couldn't the 'thunk' be her having jumped from the roof?" Conversation went cold. Shivers. It got the attention of others at the table. We were all convinced, because it made perfect sense, in the most chilling way - a way we hadn't considered.

And so I had to read it; running out to the bookstore after the PD to buy it. I haven't had this desire, really, to read a book for fun in a long time. I need to know: what is the thunk?! 

More to come.

Friday, November 7, 2014

off the bookshelf: flora & ulysses by kate dicamillo

Our latest grade 3 read aloud is Flora & Ulysses, the 2014 Newberry winner:
We finished up No Talking before our holidays, and the kids absolutely loved it!

This time they voted between this and Wonder, and I'm glad this one was chosen because we only have 6 weeks to read it before our winter break early in December.

This story is light-hearted, funny, and a truly wonderful example of voice. In it, Flora, our heroin and "natural-born cynic," finds Ulysses the squirrel after an almost-tragedy - saving his life and proclaiming him a superhero quickly thereafter. Your class might enjoy this book if they'd like to read about a superhero squirrel and a quirky main character. Of course, your class might also enjoy this book if they have a strong dislike for romance novels!

Mine has a space to write down their thoughts collectively, and so far they're really loving it!


There are comics and illustrations throughout, so I read with the document camera ready to go so the kids can see the story as it unfolds. A very engaging read!


Friday, April 4, 2014

off the bookshelf: R.J. Palacio's Wonder

A little late to the show on this one, as I tend to shy away from too much critical acclaim (see here), but this is one I'm glad I finally picked up.

Wonder was a quick read, and one I really enjoyed. I picked it up from our school library to read to my class after just finishing Hachiko Waits. This is a read-aloud I really want to end the year off with! It's such a great statement about kindness, friendship,acceptance, and individuality.

It is the story of August Pullman, a boy with a serious facial deformity, who is entering mainstream schooling for the first time as a fifth grader. He wants nothing more than to be considered normal, as normal is how he considers himself, but knows he's up for a challenge. He makes some strong friends but faces his share of difficulty as he navigates the new social waters. The story is told from various perspectives - his sister, friends, and classmates - and I really like the freshness their viewpoints add to the book. (Plus, great practical teaching point!)

Looking forward to introducing this in the classroom as it's sure to generate some deep conversation.

Friday, December 13, 2013

off the bookshelf: murakami's norwegian wood

Awhile ago I read this book... for the second time. The story came back to me so quickly; all the feelings that it evokes so clear again, but nothing spoiled.

This was Murakami's first real mainstream novel, said to be the 'book that "everyone" in Japan has read,' and a very depressing leap into stardom for the author. It is a love story, a heart-wrenching and beautiful one, and that's all. For an author who often writes non-fiction or with a flair of magical realism, this is a very different book from his others. Though these elements are totally absent in this story (Murakami argues against those that are tempted to call it loosely autobiographical), he writes a lovely reflection on human relationship and the impacts all those people we meet can have on our lives.

Norwegian Wood is narrated by Watanabe, a college student in Tokyo, who is in love with a friend from his childhood, Naoko. Their bond seems held together only by the tragic death of Watanabe's best friend, Naoko's boyfriend, when they were teenagers. He adjusts relatively well, considering, to life afterward, but Naoko struggles to understand her place in the world and becomes extremely introverted. Though he is helplessly devoted to her, Watanabe soon becomes attracted to a much more (sexually) liberated woman and struggles to retain the balance of these two relationships in a way that is understandable to his new friend.

Although I find the ending a little disjointed from the rest of the story, it's still a book I really love - one that kept me interested the whole way through. I'm a sucker for a love story!

Friday, November 29, 2013

off the bookshelf: rainbow rowell's "eleanor & park"

This is a love story.
It's one of those all-consuming, wishy-washy, confusing, high school love stories. 

And I don't know if I'm a realist (this is how I optimistically refer to myself) or a pessimist, but it's just not my thing. I didn't even love John Green's The Fault in our Stars
and I know I'm in the minority on that one. Even my gory video game-playing, comic book-reading, Walking Dead-watching husband liked that one. (Eesh - is that saying something about me?) It's about teenagers with cancer (and much more), and yes, I do feel badly about not liking it. I even decided not to write an Off the Bookshelf of it for that reason. I know the book is an inspiration to many.

It's just that high school love stories always seem too intense, or too great (as in too significant) to be real, or too one-day-this-one-day-that. It's like a roller coaster that I don't really understand. Is that because high school kids are sort of like that? And I just forget what that's like? To be fair, it has been more than a decade since I was 16. But I did have my little loves in high school, of course, like we all do. Never a love like the one that Eleanor and Park build - and certainly not as fast. It all seems too beautiful. Or too naive, I can't decide.

The other thing that really bothered me is that there are some really big issues at play here. Themes that should probably be developed just a little more, but aren't, so that their love story can take main stage. Things like a history of abuse (Eleanor's step-father), neglect (her father wants nothing to do with her), bullying, and poverty (she doesn't even own a toothbrush) are obstacles in her daily life that don't get quite the recognition that I think they should. Elanor is openly self-critical and she does reflect on these things as difficult. But I'm apt to consider them as larger than difficult, even when the author isn't. I'm not saying that Rowell's idea that love can conquer all isn't heroic and a positive statement about finding light in troubled times (even calling them "troubled times" gives me pause - it's not a big enough description for the pain). But when you're still growing and still finding who you are (and if it were me), these things would have a much larger impact on my outlook, my actions, my relationships. These themes are explored in a sort of flippant way, and I don't like that. It just doesn't seem real.

I know that people love this book. So don't let me deter you; perhaps I am a cynic. Love is a beautiful and powerful thing and I should embrace the fact that it can change us, mold us, motivate and inspire us, and in the end, be the thing we hold most dear in our lives. My own love story has done all of these things for me. So you should read it and decide for yourself.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

off the bookshelf - Junot Diaz's This Is How You Lose Her

When I lived in Korea I read this book:

Something about it totally caught me, and I really liked it. I liked the nerdy ghetto kid who really wanted to be in love. What I liked more, though, is the way Diaz moved the story away from him to share stories of the lives of his mom, grandparents, friends, and sister, and moving the narratives from the US to the Dominican in a way that gives some context to his upbringing.

And so, I thought this summer that I'd read his latest book:
This book also stars characters from Oscar Wao, and does keep a focus on Yunior's fragile relationships and how these become so consuming. It's basically a set of stories from the people that Yunior meets and knows, and I like the sort of loose-connectedness that the stories all lend to the overall theme. Diaz's writing also has this very smooth accent-vibe, making you, if you're like me, feel like you could hear the attitude of the character's words.

I enjoyed Oscar Wao more, but there's something haunting about the new stories that really did stick with me.

Friday, May 31, 2013

Off the Bookshelf - Susannah Cahalan's Brain on Fire

Rather than writing end of year reports like a good teacher should, I read this book last weekend:
Brain on Fire: My Month of Madness
Every time I sat down I wanted to read more. It's just such a fascinating story...

Susannah describes herself as a healthy, well-adjusted New York Post reporter with a basically sunny outlook. She's in a happy relationship and she works hard to keep her career moving forward. One night, she has a type of seizure and from that point onward starts exhibiting some pretty unexplainable behaviours. When she watches tapes from her stay in the hospital during the time, she describes these as akin to the jerky movements of that crab-walking little girl from The Exorcist {only not quite so "possessed"}. She was not herself and had no sort of understanding of these behaviours as her own nor control over them.

After numerous visits with psychiatrists and specialists, several brain scans, and a month-long stay in the hospital, it turns out that her body was basically attacking her brain, the result of an illness called anti-NMDA receptor encephalitis. This is a largely new disorder in terms of diagnosis, as there's really no other way to describe it than she was going crazy; many doctors would call her symptoms schizophrenic, ordering up entirely incorrect prescriptions.

She calls the book a fiction because she doesn't have memory of this time in her life - she's built the story on interviews with friends and family, doctors' and specialists' notes, and videos from her hospital room. The paranoia and hallucinations she experienced are things she doesn't wholly remember. 

In the end I think the book speaks a lot of our vulnerability - we are made of cells that function on a totally non-conscious level, completely separate from our understanding of daily life. It's pretty terrifying to think how quickly this bright young woman changed and for no reason except that she was unlucky. The way she tells the story is so honest and made me value my health in a way I hadn't really considered before. I highly recommend this one; it is nothing short of remarkable.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Off the Bookshelf - Margaret Atwood's "Oryx and Crake"

Man, that Atwood has some imagination. A genetically-engineered super plague... Pigoons, wolvogs, and rakunks... Hushed conspiracies to kill led by a scientific elite with a lot to protect...
Or is it really all that imaginative? 

It seemed to me, as I read, that many of these events she's described could at a point become reality. "Oryx and Crake" seems almost a comment on moral responsibility, especially as our ever-expanding technology becomes more and more powerful and we push further and further in our search for absolute understanding and control. (On the other hand, maybe it's not a comment on anything, maybe it's just another of Atwood's creative outlets!) This a bleakly dystopian world, and I found I wanted nothing more than to know how these things happened, how the world had changed so drastically, so catastrophically. 

The story is told through glimpses of the "past" (still the future in our own time) and the "present," a wasteland teeming with strange hybrid species created in labs, one that provides an utterly hopeless future. This is the world through which you travel, alongside Snowman, who was once Jimmy, back when the world was still the world:

"He wouldn't mind a shower - this place probably has a gravity-flow rainwater backup tank - but there's some form of guck in the tub. He takes a bar of soap, for later, and checks the cabinet for sunblock, without success. A BlyssPlus container, half full; a bottle of aspirin, which he snags. He thinks about adding a toothbrush, but he has an aversion to sticking a dead person't toothbrush into his mouth, so he takes only the toothpaste. For a Whiter Smile, he reads. Fine with him, he needs a whiter smile, though he can't at the moment think what for." {151}

Despite the grim and ominous underpinnings, this really is a fascinating story and I definitely recommend it, even you're not particularly science-fiction friendly.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

Off the Bookshelf - Lonesome Dove

When this book was recommended to me several years ago, I knew nothing about it. I was told, "It's about cowboys. Try it." Now if that isn't the most enticing review you've ever heard.... But actually it is about cowboys and really you should try it!

Set in late 19th century American cattle country, Lonesome Dove tells a story of friendship, hard work, and dangerous times as a group of now-cowboys decide to run a herd of cattle from Texas to Montana. We travel through it by horseback, feuding with Native outlaws, drinking with buffalo hunters, and reconnecting with lost loves. We are met with all kinds of challenges, among them bears, bulls, and grasshoppers that travel by the thousands, descending upon the open plains like storms. Of course, the book tells more than that, too, and draws out some pretty raw emotions.

I couldn't help but feel totally distraught and utterly helpless when Lorena was kidnapped and tortured almost to death by a band of enemies - I was desperate for her freedom. I felt true sadness when a young cowhand was swarmed and killed by snakes in a river-crossing, because he and his brother were so far from home. I felt such joy and relief when Pea Eye finally made it across the plains, in such pain and with such delirium, to tell Call that McCrae was in grave danger.

The thing I love is that these characters feel almost real. I feel they are real people - they have real fears, real dreams, and real relationships that lead them into both unimaginable and obvious events. Though this story is so far removed from my own understanding of life, what it is now or was in those times, it feels true to me; as if these things could very well have happened at that time, in those places, and with those people.

I liked it. A lot.

Next up,   interspersed with  because I'm feeling rather Canadian of late!