May Book Review: The White Garden

"You should have white flowers here.  Nothing else.  They'd rise in the dark like fairy lamps, lighting your way to bed . . . White clematis. White lavender, white agapanthus, white double-primroses. White anemones . . . "

--from The White Garden: A Novel of Virginia Woolf  by Stephanie Barron

Gardeners who pick up The White Garden without reading the book jacket will be sorely disappointed that this is not a book about the famed gardens at Sissinghurst Castle.  But mystery lovers, particularly if they also happen to be gardeners, will thoroughly enjoy this novel of literary suspense.

 Sissinghurst castle, photo courtesy of Wikipedia

Landscape designer Jo Bellamy has been sent to Sissinghurst to study the famous White Garden created by Vita Sackville-West in order to duplicate it for her client back in the Hamptons. Jo has another reason for being eager to visit the area--her grandfather had lived nearby, and she hopes to discover some clue in his past to explain his recent suicide.  His death had come as a complete shock to Jo and her grandmother, and the note he left behind at his death only compounded the mystery.

In searching through old record books of the garden at Sissinghurst, Jo finds a diary with a possible connection to her grandfather, but even more surprisingly, it is a diary that may have been written by Virginia Woolf, days after she was believed to have killed herself!

Jo borrows the diary in order to authenticate it and ultimately discover some information to explain her grandfather's mysterious final note.   In the process the diary is stolen, and Jo finds herself on a wild journey across the English countryside searching for the missing diary and for the truth about Woolf's final days. 

Not much white in my garden unless you count the white blooms of the crabapple in early spring.

While Jo eventually discovers the answers to both Woolf's death and her grandfather's suicide,  the answers are not particularly satisfying to the reader.  Jo must also deal with her feelings about her married employer, Gray Westlake, who follows her to England. A romance with a new acquaintance further confuses her.  The romantic subplots are not very well-developed, and I thought they distracted from the main plot.  But both the weak romantic scenes and the ambiguous resolution of the conflict can be forgiven, because the rest of the novel is an intriguing story that moves along at a fast pace.

My white 'Vanilla Cream' tulips

Excerpts of the supposed Woolf diary are interspersed with the narrative, which creates much of the intrigue. According to most biographies of her, Virginia Woolf, whose writing was influential in the development of the 20th century novel, suffered from depression most of her adult life and on March 28, 1941 filled her pockets with stones and drowned herself in the river Ouse near her home.  Barron, the author of the series of Jane Austen mysteries (none of which I've read--yet), takes liberties with the historical account for a plausible and entertaining story. 

My favorite of all the tulips, 'Angelique' looks almost white, but is tinged with pale pink.

When I went to amazon.com to check out some background on the author, I found mixed reviews of The White Garden.  But I thoroughly enjoyed it, and what's more, it prompted me to do some further research.  I knew very little about Virginia Woolf, having read only a few of her short stories.  Vita Sackville-West, author and creator of the "White Garden," was only a vague name encountered somewhere in my previous reading.  Learning more about these two influential literary figures--and rather scandalous women for their time--proved to be very entertaining.  And no doubt, long-time gardeners would be shocked to know that I had never heard of the "White Garden" or of Sissinghurst before!  Reading about the story of Sissinghurst online and viewing  images of the famous gardens has been another unexpected pleasant benefit of picking up Stephanie Barron's The White Garden on a whim at the library one day.

Be sure to check out other book reviews at this month's meeting of the Book Review Club hosted by Barrie Summy.

All book reviews posted here are purely at the whim of this blogger; no compensation of any kind has been received for this review. 

I'm off to visit my youngest daughter for a few days, so blog posting and reading will be limited for awhile.  I haven't seen her since August, so I know you'll understand how excited I am!

Book Review Club: "The Help"

"Sit down on your behind, Minny, because I'm about to tell you the rules for working in a white Lady's house." As 14-year-old Minny listens to her Mama explaining the seven rules --the last one being "No sass-mouthing"--she thinks to herself "Why I got to be like that? I know how to stand up to people."

Set in Jackson Mississippi in 1962, The Help seems like a story from a long-ago time when segregation was still in force in the South and racist attitudes were common throughout the country. Yet it was less than 50 years ago that the fictional scenes Kathryn Stockett describes so realistically in this book could have been a reality.

The story focuses on three main characters who alternate as narrators: Aibileen and Minny, both black maids working in the homes of white families, and Skeeter Phelan, a young white woman whose life was shaped by her own family's black maid.

Aibileen is currently working for Elizabeth Leefolt, and her primary responsibility, in addition to cooking and cleaning and whatever else "Miss Elizabeth" needs, is to take care of the Leefolts' young daughter Mae Mobley. Aibileen truly loves little Mae, more so than Mae's own mother who ignores her and punishes her in a fashion that borders on child abuse. Aibileen has worked for many families in a similar capacity over the years, always quitting when the children got too old--specifically, when they began to see and accept the distinction in the color lines in society.

Minny Jackson is Aibileen's good friend and polar opposite. While Aibileen bears her burdens stoically, Minny never loses the attitude she had as a young girl. She stands up for herself to her white employers when she is treated unfairly, and as a result doesn't hold any job for long. When Hilly Holbrook fires Minny as her mother's maid, Minny retaliates with "The Terrible Awful," an act so outrageous that Minny can't tell anyone just what she has done. Known throughout the community as a great cook, Minny must resort to taking the only job offer she has, working for a woman shunned by the society ladies of Jackson for being "white trash."

Fresh out of college, Skeeter Phelan, the only white narrator of the story, is a disappointment to her mother because she comes home from Ole Miss with a diploma, rather than a husband-to-be. Living with her parents, Skeeter finds herself stuck in the expectations of others. The only person she could really share her feelings with, the family maid Constantine, has mysteriously disappeared before Skeeter's return, and no one will tell her why she left. While her mother constantly belittles Skeeter's height, her hair, and everything about her appearance, Constantine had been the one to instill self-esteem in her with the mantra she taught Skeeter at a young age: "Am I gone believe what them fools say about me today?"

Skeeter aspires to be a journalist and naively applies for a job at New York publishing firm. After a few months, she receives a reply from an editor at Harper's who doesn't offer her a job, but gives her some advice to build up her resume. She encourages Skeeter to find any kind of writing job as a starting point, and Skeeter does--as a replacement at the local newspaper for Miss Myrna, writing a weekly housecleaning advice column. Knowing nothing about cleaning, Skeeter approaches her friend Elizabeth's maid, Aibileen, for help and eventually begins to talk to Aibileen about much more than cleaning. A comment by Aibileen inspires her with an idea for a book--writing about what it is like for a black woman to work in a white home. "That's when the idea comes to me. No. I couldn't. That would be . . . crossing the line." But Skeeter does "cross the line," and in the process her eyes are opened to the injustices around her.

Though Skeeter has been raised with traditional values and is good friends with Elizabeth and the domineering Junior League President, Hilly Holbrook, she feels slightly uncomfortable with some of Hilly's ideas. In particular, she evades Hilly's constant request to publish an article in their League newsletter about Hilly's plan, "The Home Help Sanitation Initiative," a euphemism for building separate bathrooms for the black domestics in every white home.

Through the course of the book, Skeeter goes from a silent acceptance of the behavior around her to sneaking into the black neighborhood each night to visit Aibileen and record her story. As she meets more of the black maids in the town and records their stories with Aibileen's help, a new perspective of her world is opened up to her.

There are many sad and infuriating stories from the maids who risk telling their stories to Skeeter. One is imprisoned for stealing a worthless ring from her employer. Another's grandson is beaten and blinded for accidentally using the white bathroom.

Sign in restaurant window in Ohio (image from Wikipedia)

Not all the stories Skeeter records are tragic, however.

"Faye Belle, palsied and gray-skinned, cannot remember her own age. Her stories unfold like soft linen. She remembers hiding in a steamer trunk with a little white girl while Yankee soldiers stomped through the house. Twenty years ago, she held that same white girl, by then an old woman, in her arms while she died. Each proclaimed their love as best friends. Swore that death could not change this. That color meant nothing. The white woman's grandson still pays Faye Belle's rent. When she's feeling strong, Faye Belle sometimes goes over and cleans up his kitchen."

Skeeter is also surprised to learn that Louvenia, the maid whose grandson was permanently disabled, received help from her employer, who rushed Louvenia to the "colored hospital" and stayed by her side, brought casseroles to her every day, and gave her paid time off to care for her grandson.

Not until Skeeter finishes the book does she realize the true significance of what she has recorded. "Wasn't that the point of the book? For women to realize, 'We are just two people. Not that much separates us. Not nearly as much as I'd thought.' "

March on Washington, 1963 (image from Wikipedia)

The Help is a compelling novel of ordinary characters who must deal with surviving in this segregated society and whose lives have not yet been touched by the growing Civil Rights movement. Those of you who have read my other book reviews know that I enjoy mysteries, but this book was every bit as much of a page-turner as any mystery. I was drawn into the stories of Aibileen, Skeeter, and even the sassy Minny immediately and found myself cheering them on even as I hoped that the obnoxious Hilly would one day get her comeuppance. There is a reason this book has found its way to the best-seller list and why some have called it an "instant classic." Future classic or not, The Help definitely deserves a place on your "must read" list this year.

The Book Review Club meets the first Wednesday of every month and is hosted by Barrie Summy. Check out other reading recommendations here; why not join us next month?

February Book Review: Revisiting an Old Friend in the Windy City

I'm running late, but I think I may be just in time for the monthly meeting of the Book Review Club hosted by Barrie. Check out her latest post for other recommendations for a good book to curl up with on these cold February nights.

The week after the holidays found me in an unlikely spot--at the mall, searching for after-Christmas bargains to update my winter wardrobe. Finding a few new sweaters at clearance prices, however, doesn't give me the thrill it once did. After an hour or two, I was ready to call it quits and drove over to a much more pleasant spot--Barnes and Noble. Gift certificates in hand, I happily wandered up and down the mystery aisles looking for a few of my favorite authors to keep me entertained on these long winter nights. I had a couple of titles in mind when I spotted a display of new bargain hardbacks. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw a new book by Sara Paretsky. I've been waiting for what seemed like forever for another in her V.I. Warshawski series--how did I miss this one?? I snatched it up immediately, along with Patricia Cornwell's latest Scarpetta adventure, and forgot all other titles, eager to get home and see what latest mishap V.I. had gotten into this time.

Hardball is the 13th in the V.I. Warshawski series, and it may be the best one yet. Private investigator V.I., known as Vic to her friends, has been hired by two elderly African-American sisters to find their son/nephew who disappeared over 40 years earlier after a young white woman was killed during a civil rights demonstration. V.I. has little hope of solving such an old mystery, but she takes on the case as a favor to a new friend, a kind-hearted hospital chaplain.

Chicago is the setting for all of V.I.'s adventures

As usual, Warshawski encounters obstacles at every turn in her investigation. Friends of the young black man, Lamont Gadsen, are uncooperative and even hostile towards V.I. for reasons she doesn't understand until later. Her best lead is a gang leader incarcerated in Joliet's prison, who V.I. once defended during her days as a Public Defender. She reluctantly visits Johnny Merton, aka "The Hammer," but he's as insulting and frightening as he ever was and refuses to help. Even Lamont's mother lacks confidence in V.I. and treats her with hostility.

Millenium Park

But the biggest hurdle V.I. faces in finding out what happened so many years ago comes from the Chicago Police Department. V.I. always seems to get on the wrong side of the law, but this time there is good reason for it. Lamont Gadsen disappeared during the late 60's, a time of racial tension in the city of Chicago, and both the police and other government officials would like to keep this dark part of the city's history buried and forgotten. V.I. uncovers stories of police brutality at the time, but what is most disturbing to her are innuendoes that her beloved late father, known to all as one of the "good cops," somehow may have been involved. Her search for the missing Lamont soon turns into a personal quest for the truth about her father as well.

As if she doesn't have enough problems, a young cousin she's never met before suddenly appears. Petra, fresh out of college, has come to Chicago to work on a political campaign. Bubbly and naive, she's the opposite of V.I.'s jaded realism and seems to have a secret agenda in her probing of V.I.'s family history. When Petra suddenly disappears, V.I. is determined to find her and soon finds herself in danger as well.

The never-to-be-forgotten Lurie Garden

V.I. Warshawski hasn't changed much in the 27 years since she began pounding the pavement as a P.I. She still runs with her dogs each morning, she still lives in an apartment above Mr. Contreras, and she still manages to irritate most authorities she deals with. She has little patience and a quick temper. But she is determined to find the truth, no matter whose toes she steps on, and that is what makes her such a likable character.

The Bean, a good place for "reflection"

When Paretsky created V.I., she set the bar for all other fictional female detectives, and in my opinion, no one else has come close. It is not just the characterization, however, that draws the reader in. Her plots are complex and suspenseful, and she weaves a fascinating history of different parts of the city of Chicago into her stories. I remember well the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago and the protests that made headlines at that time. But I didn't remember the earlier marches and demonstrations that made Chicago a hotbed of racial tension. Hardball gives us a detailed background of this time period. While Warshawski may not have changed that much over the years, Paretsky's books have---they just keep getting better and better.

Disclaimer: All book reviews posted here are purely at the whim of this blogger. No remuneration of any kind was received for this review.

The Secret to Happiness? Book Review: "The Geography of Bliss"

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@Barrie Summy

Are you happy?? It's hard to pick up a magazine these days without an article titled something like "10 Secrets to Happiness" or "Finding Your Inner Joy." Bookstore shelves are filled with books promoting ways to becoming a happier person. Even before the bad economy caused society's spirits to plummet, Americans have been obsessed with finding happiness in our lives. Eric Weiner in The Geography of Bliss: One Grump's Search for the Happiest Places in the World takes a somewhat different approach. Rather than focusing on the individual and helping him or her change his outlook on life, Weiner, a journalist, sets out to find what factors help to create a positive environment for happiness.

Weiner, a self-confessed curmudgeon, points out his name is--appropriately enough--pronounced Whin-er and that as a child his favorite character in Winnie-the-Pooh was Eeyore. He decides to spend a year traveling the globe in search of places where people are considered happy to find out the secret to this elusive feeling.

He visits places like Bhutan, very similar in appearance to the mythical Shangri-La, where the government places more importance on its policy of Gross National Happiness than on the GNP. The Netherlands, Switzerland, Thailand, Great Britain, and India are other stops in his quest. In each country Weiner finds some clues to that nation's general feeling of happiness, but no definitive answers and often contradictory ideas.

For example, in tiny Qatar, perhaps the wealthiest nation in the world, Weiner finds that money does not guarantee happiness. The oil-rich Qataris have everything they could possibly want--and then some--but their lives are filled with family squabbles and insecurity. When Weiner returns home to the U.S., he finds a similar situation. Despite the fact that we are the "wealthiest nation ever," the U.S. ranks, according to one study, as the 23rd happiest nation in the world.

On the other hand, poverty-stricken nations rank low on the happiness scale, as one might expect. Weiner visits one such nation purposely to contrast with happier states. The small nation of Moldova, once part of the Soviet Union, is a poor country with what appears to be a very depressed population. Yet, it isn't just the lack of money that causes this unhappiness, Weiner finds, but also the fact that Moldova seems to have no cultural identity.

One of the happiest nations surprisingly is the country of Iceland, which Weiner visits during the eternal darkness of winter. Here he finds some of the most novel ideas of his trip. Icelanders are proud of their language and their culture, two important factors in a nation's happiness, but they also demonstrate a lack of envy and have no fear of failure, both of which seem to promote contentment.

I enjoyed Weiner's humorous touches and his skepticism about many of the theories he found. He is a good sport, willing to try anything to experience local customs whether it is smoking Moroccan hash in a Dutch "coffee shop" or tasting the Icelandic delicacy of rotten shark. While he dives into the local culture, he doesn't necessarily embrace it. In India, for example, his experience in an ashram is disappointing; he feels no spiritual enlightenment, but is more concerned that he has to give up coffee for three days. As a fellow caffeine addict, I can empathize.

The Geography of Bliss is a book of substance, not pop psychology. Weiner includes quotes from philosophers and a great deal of evidence from various research studies on happiness to support or contradict the theories he encounters. One of my favorite excerpts is near the end of the book, when he realizes that there is no such thing as paradise on earth.

One man's paradise can be another's hell, and the converse holds true as
well. When European missionaries first landed in Greenland several centuries
ago, intent on converting the pagan natives to Christianity, they offered the
usual carrot-and stick approach: Convert and you get a shot at heaven; don't ,
and you will be condemned to an eternity in hell.

"What is this hell like?" asked the curious Greenlanders.

"Oh it is very, very hot," replied the missionaries. "It is hot all of
the time."

The Greenlanders surveyed the frozen Arctic tundra that was their home
and replied, "We'll take hell, thank you."

In the end, Weiner finds no definitive answers to the secret of happiness--though he does share some hypotheses--and isn't necessarily any happier than he was before he began his quest. Yet he does find that his attitude towards many things in life have changed for the better. In the same way, as I read his book I found myself contemplating my own life and whether I was happy. I have always thought of myself as a "glass half-empty" sort of person and once thought that only a big, new 3 1/2-bathroom house was necessary for my personal happiness. But I see things differently now than before: I will probably never live in that beautiful new house, but you know what? I don't care. I realize it is the simple things that bring me joy and make me happy. A good book, a fresh cup of strong coffee, and a little chocolate bring me pleasure. Beyond that there are the most important things in life:

Family

Friends

A group of my high school classmates met for dinner last week, the first time many of us had seen each other in nearly 20 years. What fun to reminisce and catch up on each others' lives!

New Year's Eve was also special, as we ushered in the new year in our traditional way with a toast along with two dear friends.

Friends with four legs and unconditional love and devotion.

And, of course, my Garden!

Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne

All book reviews posted here are solely at the whim of this blogger. No remuneration of any kind was given for this review.

Belated Thank You's

Before this year draws to a close and we usher in 2010, I want to take care of some unfinished business. In the last two months I've received several gifts, and I'd like to thank those who were so kind to give them to me.

Some time ago I received a free copy of Flora Mirabilis: How Plants Have Shaped World Knowledge, Health, Wealth, and Beauty from the publishers at National Geographic. Written by Catherine Herbert Howell in collaboration with the Missouri Botanical Garden Library, this is a beautifully illustrated book that would be perfect for any gardener's coffee table collection.

Several other bloggers have already posted reviews of this book, so I won't bore you by repeating the same information here. Besides, in all honesty, I haven't had time to read the whole book yet, just snippets here and there. But that is one of the great things about this book--you can choose a chapter or one of the mini-chapters about specific plants in any order you wish.

A few bits of trivia I found fascinating in the book:

• One example is the olive, which appears in Greek mythology when Athena and Poseidon held a contest to see who would be the protector of Athens. Whoever produced the most valuable gift for the people of the city would win. Poseidon produced a saltwater spring (in the translation I had read before, it was a horse), and Athena offered an olive tree. She won the contest hands down, and the city adopted her name. In the familiar Biblical story of Noah, the olive appears again, as a dove released by Noah came back with an olive branch, a sign that the flood had receded. The olive branch is still a symbol of peace today.
  


• European explorers are believed to have brought many diseases to the New World, including malaria. Several stories tell of people cured of malaria by the bark of a special tree in South America. This "Peruvian bark" was brought back to Europe, and eventually renamed Cinchona officinalis. This plant is still in use as a remedy today--known to us as quinine.
  


• 
  We all think of Holland when we think of tulips, but did you know just how popular this flower once was in this country? In the early 1600's tulipomania took over the country, and prices for the most desired bulbs shot skyward. "By 1610 a new tulip variety was perfectly acceptable as a dowry, and houses and businesses were often mortgaged to facilitate the purchase of a coveted flower." Not surprisingly, the market eventually crashed, nearly bankrupting the whole country.
  

• 
  One of my favorite plants is pictured above in one of the many excellent illustrations in the book. Theobroma cacao literally means "food of the gods"--certainly appropriate for this source of chocolate. In Mayan culture cocoa seeds were used as currency, and it wasn't until 1847 that a British company produced the first chocolate that could be eaten.
  

Flora Mirabilis, however, is not a book of trivia but rather an engaging history of the role plants have played in our lives. It is what its name means--"a wonderful book about flowers." If you would like to know more about this book, check out some of the reviews posted by other bloggers, including an excellent and thorough review by another Rose at Rambleonrose.

Please note other than the free copy of this book, I received no remuneration for mentioning this book, nor was I required in any way to review the book here.


My tiny garden library has also increased in volume recently after winning two giveaways. The first was a giveaway by gardening guru Carol at MayDreams Gardens, where I was the lucky winner of this book, What's Wrong With My Plant? Carol, as well as several other bloggers, have posted reviews of this book, so I'll refer you to them for details. But I have skimmed through the book and can say that this will definitely come in handy! No more wondering what is causing those little holes in the leaves of my roses or what's causing the sedum to flop over and die. Next year, with the help of this reference, I'll have all the answers! Thanks, Carol!

Apparently the stars were in alignment for me for a short time (too bad I didn't buy a lottery ticket!), because a few weeks later I also won a giveaway at Commonweeder. Nancy Ondra's The Perennial Care Manual is another excellent reference that I know I'll consult frequently. Filled with beautiful photographs, the book gives instructions for specific plants on everything from pruning to propagating.

Looks like it's time to buy that new bookcase I've been wanting for my office!

And one more gift . . . Along with Nan Ondra's book, Pat at Commonweeder also sent me two dozen "Cowpots." Now all I need are some packets of seeds, and I will be all set for spring seed sowing! Thanks, Pat!

Finally, two more belated thank-you's. Shady Gardener at Does Everything Grow Better in My Neighbor's Yard? gave me this blog award some time ago.

And Suburbia at Moments From Suburbia gave me this award a few months ago. Thank you to both of you! I know the rules are to pass these on, but there are so many blogs I read these days that I thoroughly enjoy that I would have trouble picking out just a few. So, I thank these two friends for the awards and extend my thanks to all of you who make each day a little brighter with your creative, inspiring, or often humorous views of the world around us.

I hope that everyone had a wonderful Christmas and that you are able now to enjoy a little relaxation after the hubbub of decorating, baking, and shopping. All the presents have been opened here, and not one garden gift in the bunch! Oh well, my birthday is in June, so there is still hope. Meanwhile, we did have one more "gift"--the snow began to fall on Christmas Day, and by today my yard was a vision of white.

My camera was not out of focus--that is blowing snow you see in the background. Looks like I can finally join in on Nancy's "First Snowfall" project!

Wishing you all a great week and the beginning of a happy New Year!

October Book Review: The Lost Symbol

Like millions of other fans of Dan Brown, I recently purchased his long-awaited sequel to The Da Vinci Code, The Lost Symbol. The question on everyone's mind was after six years, was Robert Langdon up for another nail-biting adventure? Finishing the novel in a few short days, I can answer with an unequivocal "Yes"! And I promise that this review will contain no spoilers for anyone who hasn't yet read the book.




Symbologist Robert Langdon has been summoned by longtime friend and mentor, Peter Solomon, to Washington, D.C. for an impromptu lecture. However, when he arrives at the Capitol building, he discovers that Solomon has been kidnapped, and his captor has left a grisly memento in the Rotunda to impress upon everyone that he is deadly serious in his intentions. In order to save his friend, Langdon is called upon to find a mysterious ancient underground portal somewhere in the city that will reveal "the Ancient Mysteries."





Like the albino in The Da Vinci Code, the villain--Solomon's kidnapper--here seems possessed in his single-minded quest to unlock the secrets of the ancients in order to achieve some mystical power. Unlike the albino, however, this villain, who calls himself Mal'akh, appears to act alone. He is introduced in the prologue and, as is customary with Brown's style for developing suspense, many of the chapters focus on his point of view. With a muscular body that is completely covered with tatoos, he is a truly frightening antagonist. His ulterior motives are vague, but are eventually revealed in the surprising climax.


The symbols that Langdon must decode in order to appease Mal'akh have to do with Freemasonry, and the book presents a very interesting look at the history of the Masons, particularly the role they played in the founding of our country. Along the way, Langdon meets up with Solomon's sister, Katherine Solomon, who is also in danger. Katherine is doing groundbreaking research in the field of Noetic Sciences and is a worthy match for Langdon's superior intellect. Together, they elude possible enemies, including the director of the CIA's Office of Security, and dash through the city of Washington in their search for clues.


The action of the book takes place over the course of one night, and to say it is fast-paced is a cliche, yet true. Just as one layer of the mystery is solved, another layer appears, and Langdon and Katherine are involved in a race against time as well as in a fight for survival. This is definitely a book to read on a cold, rainy weekend--as I did--when you don't have other demands on your time.


I've been a big fan of Dan Brown since reading The Da Vinci Code and have read all his other books, which are just as good, especially Angels and Demons. Unlike other popular authors who churn out one or more books every year, often with mixed results, Brown appears to take his time to research his material thoroughly before publishing another novel. The Da Vinci Code prompted a flurry of television programs about the Holy Grail, secret societies, and the theological theories presented in the novel. Whether this book will bring about the same kind of response remains to be seen, but I doubt it, since the topic of the Masons has been discussed at length in shows already. The only subject that may spur some interest is the area of Noetic Science, which turns out to be an actual field, the study of the power of human thought. And unlike The Da Vinci Code, which caused some outrage among theologians, The Lost Symbol is pretty tame--the Freemasons are presented in a favorable light, and no controversial religious theories are discussed here.


My son also read the book and enjoyed it, but was disappointed in the characters, saying they were inconsistent. I had hestitated to read any other reviews of this book before writing this post, but after hearing this, I thought I would check out what a few other reviewers had to say. All the ones I read praised the book, but found similar devices used in The Da Vinci Code and criticized Brown's "wooden dialogue" and clumsy sentence structure. I think Langdon may appear somewhat inconsistent, at times solving a puzzle with amazing speed and at other times being rather obtuse, but I believe this is just one of Brown's techniques in creating a cliffhanger at the end of chapters. Ultimately, Langdon solves all the riddles, of course, and this is a novel driven by plot, not characterization. True, there are some similarities to The Da Vinci Code, but The Lost Symbol is definitely not a clone of that book. And as for Brown's writing style, well, you don't buy his books expecting Shakespeare!


The Lost Symbol has a list price of $29.95, but can be easily found for much less at many bookstores and discount superstores. Take my advice--shell out the money for the hardback, and don't wait for the paperback to come out. By that time, the media will have revealed all the "lost symbols"!

For more ideas of great reads, check out other reviews at the meeting of the Book Review Club.

Book Review: Plum Spooky

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@Barrie Summy

"Sometimes you get up in the morning and you know it's going to be one of those days. No toothpaste left in the tube, no toilet paper on the cardboard roll, hot water cuts out halfway through your shower, and someone's left a monkey on your doorstep."

We've all had days like this--well, maybe not the monkey on the doorstep--but bail bondswoman Stephanie Plum seems to have more than her fair share of unfortunate complications. On the hunt for Martin Munch, who is wanted for failure to appear in court for stealing a prototype of a vapor magnetometer, Stephanie runs into an eerie villain named Wulf Grimoire, who can disappear in a puff of smoke. Wulf has big plans for world domination and has enlisted Munch, a young genius in physics, to help in his schemes. As Stephanie searches for Munch through a strange wooded area in New Jersey called the Barrens, she realizes that this is not a simple bounty hunt, but that much more is at stake. Bizarre characters living in the barrens, a kidnapping, and a pen full of monkeys wearing helmets all add to the mystery that Stephanie must solve.

"Surprise Lilies" are a bit spooky, too, seemingly appearing out of nowhere on a late July day.


Fortunately, Stephanie has plenty of help. Carl, the monkey deposited on her doorstep by a friend, goes along for the ride as Stephanie tracks down her prey and actually helps in a few instances. Colorful characters like Lula from the office is more than eager to shoot off a few bullets. And then there are the men . . . For someone who describes herself as "a bran muffin in a bakery case filled with eclairs," Stephanie Plum certainly attracts some interesting and attractive men. Besides her current boyfriend Joe Morelli and her "guardian angel" Ranger, there is the gorgeous Diesel who invites himself into Stephanie's apartment and into her case. It is Diesel who tells Stephanie the story of Wulf and becomes her partner and sometime savior in thwarting the plans of Wulf and Munch.

Knowing how much I like mysteries, several friends have recommended Janet Evanovich's novels to me. I checked one out of the library a few years ago, but just couldn't get into it and returned it without finishing it. Apparently I picked up one of her romances, of which she has written several, instead of one of her mysteries. Plum Spooky, one of the Stephanie Plum novels, had me hooked by the first paragraph, and kept me chuckling throughout as the mystery unfolded. Who wouldn't enjoy a writer with a witty flair for description and a family like Stephanie's: "Grandma buys her clothes at The Gap, her sneakers at Payless, and her Metamucil at the supermarket." This is a quick, fun read, perfect light reading for the beach or an end-of-the summer evening in the Lazyboy.


Each of the Stephanie Plum series has a number cleverly placed in its title, but Plum Spooky is one of the "Between the numbers" novels, meaning there are actually more than the fifteen numbered novels. Evanovich's latest, Finger Lickin' Fifteen, is now in the bookstores and has received very favorable reviews. Will I check it out or even buy it? The answer is a resounding yes--I am plum hooked!





Check out Barrie Summy's posting of various book reviews today or scroll below for this week's ABC post.

Whew! Two posts in one day . . . I'm going to have to rest for awhile:)

Book Review: The Garden of Invention

If you recognize the connection between a potato, a shasta daisy, and a walnut tree, then you may be aware of the impact of the work of Luther Burbank, plant breeder extraordinaire. Luther Burbank was responsible for "inventing" and improving many plants that we take for granted today, and in the early 20th century was regarded with the same awe as were his contemporaries and friends, Thomas Edison and Henry Ford.





The Garden of Invention is the story of Burbank's life and the early days of plant breeding. It is a book I ordinarily wouldn't pick up to read had I not attended Spring Fling in May ( a gathering of over 50 garden bloggers). At the Friday night reception, I was milling about before dinner, trying to meet as many bloggers as possible. A petite woman introduced herself as Jane Smith, and we began talking. I found out that she was not a blogger, per se, but a writer who had written a biography of Luther Burbank. It wasn't until after dinner that I found out that each of us was given a copy of the book, courtesy of Prof. Smith, which I later had autographed. I appreciate not only Prof. Smith's generosity, but also the chance to read a fascinating book I might otherwise have never read.




Luther Burbank was born in New England in 1949 to a brickmaker, not a farmer, and was a shy child who enjoyed reading Emerson, Thoreau, and Longfellow. Although his family recognized his superior intelligence, as he reached adulthood they feared he would never learn a trade and no doubt never envisioned the career path he would eventually take. Inspired by the writings of Charles Darwin, he eventually decided to raise vegetables to market. After a few years, he discovered one of his potato plants produced superior potatoes and began to market them, the humble beginnings of what would be Burbank's most famous contribution to agriculture--the Russet Burbank potato.

Below: One example of a Burbank creation, the

Shasta Daisy, "Becky"

While still a young man, Burbank moved to the warmer climate of northern California and eventually purchased land in Santa Rosa where he began his adventures in plant breeding by careful observation, plant selection, and experiments in cross-breeding. As his sales of plants and seeds increased, so did his fame, eventually drawing visitors from across the world to his garden where he became known as "The Wizard of Santa Rosa." Although well-respected for his botanical genius, Burbank never achieved the wealth one might expect. Because the U.S. Patent Office did not grant patents to natural products, he was unable to patent any of his new varieties of plants, preventing him from receiving the kind of royalties that surely would have made him a rich man.



The Garden of Invention is more than just a biography of Luther Burbank, however; it is a fascinating history of the end of the 19th century and the early 20th. Meticulously researched, the book provides a wealth of information to explain the impact of Burbank's work and the reason for the reverence accorded him by the public. Prof. Smith reminds us that in the late 19th century, the economy in the U.S. was based primarily on agriculture. It was a time when land grant colleges intended to promote the study of agriculture had only recently been established. Institutions like the University of California at Berkeley, a land grant college, and a small private school, Leland Standford Junior University (later Stanford University) were very interested in Burbank's experiments with plants.

Below: One of my favorite annual for containers, "Raspberry Blast"
petunia, which is a variegated pink. Note the solid fuschia
blooms--perhaps a reverting to one of its parent genes?

It was also a time when food had to be shipped to California around the tip of South America. That fact certainly explains the significance of Burbank's contributions to the development of orchards and vegetable gardens in that state.



It was a time when the word science was first coined, and a controversy began as to whether Luther Burbank was a true scientist, since his studies were not founded in academics but through personal observations. Of course, it also
didn't help that Burbank never revealed to anyone the exact details of HOW he created a new plant.

Burbank liked to talk to his plants, which some found rather eccentric. But nearly everyone who met him was impressed by his basic goodness and decency. He was a philosopher as well as a botanist, and as his reputation grew, people were eager to hear his views on many subjects.


One of the more interesting insights into Burbank's life is Chapter 10, "The Training of the Human Plant." It was a surprise to me to find out that this childless man wrote a book about child rearing at a time when the eugenics movement was gaining popularity. However, anyone frightened by the implications of that term—eugenics—is reassured by quotes from Burbank and Smith’s explanation of his beliefs. In short, he believed that it was the nation’s responsibility to ensure that all children received “the wholesome food and healthy environment needed to make [them] strong” (192). Rather than support any kind of artificial genetic manipulation, Burbank promoted helping every child to reach his or her potential.

“Give them nature. Let their souls drink in all that is pure and sweet…Let nature teach them the lessons of good and proper living, combined with an abundance of well-balanced nourishment. Those children will grow to be the best men and women. Put the best in them by contact with the best outside. They will absorb it as a plant does the sunshine and the dew.” (191-192)

One of the few notable Burbank failures: trying

to develop a spineless prickly pear cactus for cattle feed.

I don't read much nonfiction, and I skim rather

than read gardening books, but A Garden of Invention was a book I truly enjoyed. Jane Smith is an eloquent storyteller whose attention to detail and background information makes this an engrossing story. Gardeners and non-gardeners alike will enjoy reading about the man who changed the world of gardening forever.

Left: The legacy continues . . .

For other reviews of all types of books, check out Barrie Summy's Book Review Club.

May Book Review: The Last Place

I'm a mystery buff. But sometimes I get in a rut, gravitating to the same authors over and over again, waiting for their latest novels or looking for one of theirs that I haven't yet read. So it was a happy accident when I picked up a paperback mystery by a new--to me--author to read on the plane ride home from Phoenix last month and found I actually liked it.




Laura Lippman's The Last Place is one in a series about former Baltimore reporter turned private eye, Tess Monaghan. The opening pages hint at a sinister villain, but the first villain Tess actually encounters is an internet sex predator who has been chatting online with a family member of her friend Whitney. Tess plans to meet him in a bar, expose him, and scare him off, but Whitney has other plans. The two get carried away and leave Mickey Pechter with some seemingly minor physical reminders to stay from young girls.




Unfortunately for Tess, she winds up being charged with assault, and a judge sympathetic to the predator orders her to six months of psychiatric treatment for anger management. Tess is none too happy about the sentence and throws herself into work--an assignment from a non-profit organization to investigate five homicides that might have been the result of domestic violence. After investigating the first three homicides, Tess finds no connection to domestic violence in any of them and reports back to the organization, encouraging them to give up the futile search. When they accuse her of overcharging them and not finishing the job, Tess angrily goes back to research the last two deaths.


At this point, Tess stumbles upon some eerie coincidences that prompt her to dig deeper, whether or not they fit the non-profit's profile. She interviews Carl Dewitt, a Toll Facilities cop, who had discovered one of the victims' bodies and was so upset by it that he became obsessed with solving the case. He is eager to share his information with Tess and becomes her unlikely partner in investigation.


Soon Tess and Carl are in the midst of a puzzle, one with lots of missing pieces. Through persistent examination of every detail in the cases, Tess and Carl realize they are on the trail of a psychopath, and that it is only a matter of time before he kills again. The tension builds as the two get closer to this sinister villain and find themselves in danger as well.



Fans of Sue Grafton's Kinsey Milhone or Sara Paretsky's V.I. Warshawski will find Tess Monaghan equally likable. A strong, educated woman, Tess is perfectly capable of taking care of herself and shows some of the same smart-mouthed sarcasm of those two heroines, particularly in her sessions with the court-ordered psychiatrist. But Tess definitely has a softer side and carries a gun only out of necessity, not in any eagerness to use it.



Lippman doesn't use clever, but irrelevant teasers to entice the reader nor does she use blood and gore, as so many other crime novelists do. Instead, she develops the novel as a true mystery, building detail upon detail until the final solution. The characters of Tess and Carl Dewitt are well-developed, but secondary characters like Tess' boyfriend Crow are not so well-drawn. However, in fairness to the Edgar Award-winning Lippman, The Last Place is the seventh in her Tess Monaghan series; thus, readers familiar with her earlier books may already know these characters well. As with any series, references are made to past cases and lost loves--a good excuse for me to start reading her previous novels!



I picked up this novel at my favorite mystery bookstore in Phoenix, Arizona, The Poisoned Pen. I went there on our last day specifically to pick up a signed copy of Clive Cussler's latest work for my oldest son, who's a big fan, and happened to see a display of Lippman's novels. As it turned out, she was going to be at the bookstore that evening to sign copies of her latest book, Life Sentences. Although I wasn't able to go that evening, I was intrigued and picked up The Last Place instead. I also checked out The Poisoned Pen's calendar of events--for a small bookstore, they have a very impressive "guest" list. Autographed photos of famous mystery writers who have held book signings there hang from the ceiling. Clive Cussler himself had been there the week before--had I only known, I would have gotten a personalized autograph for my son! And the week following included a visit from Jonathan Kellerman, whose Alex Delaware's novels I enjoy, along with wife Faye, also a novelist.





The Poisoned Pen is tucked away on a quiet street not far from Old Town Scottsdale. If you are ever in the Phoenix area, do take the time to visit!

If you're interested in finding a good book to read, check out other reviews at Barrie Summy's--you'll find quite a variety!

"I Heard It From Alice Zucchini"

Today I am foregoing my usual ABC Wednesday post to join another group for this week--a book review collection hosted by Barrie Summy each month. (Technically, I guess this might qualify for this week's ABC letter G since I'm writing about a gardening book, but that might get a little confusing.) When I posted a review last month about a delightful book I had just finished, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society, Sarah Lawrence commented that I might want to join Barrie for her new monthly "meeting" of book reviewers. Sarah frequently reviews books on her posts, reviews accompanied by gorgeous photos that always seem to illustrate the novel's plot and themes perfectly. A book club meeting each month--one that I don't have to dress up for or have to read a prescribed book--sounded like an ideal opportunity to me.


This past month has been extremely busy for me, with my grandchildren here for awhile, my father's hospitalization, and more than my usual days of substitute teaching. I'm currently reading Elizabeth George's Careless in Red, which I mentioned in the earlier review, but I can't very well review a book I haven't finished, can I? So my contribution this month is a book that doesn't take long to read at all, but one that can be read and enjoyed over and over again.


While searching for a gardening book online one day, I came across a children's book entitled I Heard it from Alice Zucchini. Now with a title like that, wouldn't you be intrigued? I certainly was and, after reading some reviews of it, decided to purchase it to share with my grandchildren.


I Heard it from Alice Zucchini is subtitled Poems about the Garden and is just that--a delightful collection of children's poems related to the garden. The poems range from the humorous, like "Garden Gossip," from which the title comes, to the fanciful fairy tale-like story of "Sweet Cicely and the Bee." There is even a "Garden Lullaby" with soothing images perfect for a bedtime reading. My favorite is probably "Blue Moon Over the Garden," which is full of appealing imagery:

". . . Sleeping vegetables wake and yawn.
It's June and the night of the second moon.
Crickets tune their violins in anticipation.
Tomatoes bounce down pole-bean twine.
Cucumbers tumble in green clown suits.
A choir of celery burst into song . . ."

When I ordered the book, I was expecting a collection of humorous poems, ala Shel Silverstein, but the poems are not all humorous, and the author, Juanita Havill, has her own unique style. There are no alien-looking kohlrabi (like those from my garden to the right), but there are chanting pea pods, dancing dill weeds, and a "Rhubarb Forest." Children will enjoy the rhyme and rhythm, especially the catchy tune of "Vegetable Stew."



The book is beautifully illustrated by Christine Davenier, and children will delight in finding the fairy who appears on every page. The author Juanita Havill has written more than thirty books for children and is decribed as "an avid gardener [who] readily confesses to talking with her plants--even with the weeds." I think all my gardening friends can relate to this!



I'm a firm believer in introducing children to poetry at a young age, and this book is an appealing way to develop an early appreciation of poetry. For my garden blogging friends, while this book may not fit on your reference shelf, it would make an excellent gift for a young grandchild, niece/nephew, or godchild. It might even encourage them to look in your garden for some "weedling seedlings" or "Princess Asparagus"!



And the best part is . . .

. . .This book has been kid-tested!

Book Picks: Try a Little Potato Peel Pie

Is it just me, or is this winter longer than normal? Ice, bitter cold, and snowstorms have caused me to turn into a hermit the last few months. While I have accomplished a few--very few--projects around the house, I find it hard to get motivated to shovel the snow off my car and the driveway to go anywhere, and find myself becoming more and more lethargic. Dreaming of spring and gardening is a great diversion, but you can pore over seed catalogs only so long. Instead, on a cold winter's day, the perfect escape is to pour myself a hot cup of coffee or tea, settle into the comfy armchair with a blanket, and lose myself in a good book.

You might think being a former English teacher that I would read only the classics or critically acclaimed new novels. Far from it! I spent so many years reading and re-reading books that I had to read for class, that when I read for relaxation I prefer something that doesn't make me think too much. Oh, I will go back and read some of the great books I never read one of these days, but for now I prefer a lighter fare of mysteries and legal/forensic thrillers.

Two of my favorite mystery authors are Martha Grimes and Elizabeth George. Ironically, they are both American writers, yet the settings of most of their novels are in the UK, complete with authentic British touches, including characters who wear "jumpers" and sometimes eat "beans on toast." (I now know what a jumper is, but I'm still curious if beans on toast really is what it sounds like.)

Lying on my book table, waiting to be read next, is George's latest novel, Careless in Red. I'm eager to read this one, since her last two novels can only be described as depressing. With No One as Witness ended with the shocking and completely unexpected murder of one of the secondary characters. Her next novel, What Came Before He Shot Her, was a complete departure for George, as she focused on a new character, the young boy responsible for the murder in the previous book. His life story read something like a Hardy novel, as he was a victim of fate, abuse, and a poor environment in the worst neighborhoods of London. The novel was a well-written character study, as all George's novels are, but it was depressing. I'm looking forward to Careless In Red, reading about Supt. Lynley and his assistant Sgt. Barbara Havers solving their latest mystery and hoping their lives have returned to a semblancy of normalcy.

While I love mysteries and tend to read every book written by a favorite author, I have tried in the last two years to expand my reading and get out of my comfort zone, so to speak, every so often. From nonfiction like Obama's Dreams from My Father or Frank McCourt's Angela's Ashes to modern fiction like Jane Smiley's One Thousand Acres, I am often pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoy some of these different genre.

One of my more unusual choices that I finished reading two weeks ago was Stephenie Meyer's Twilight.

In case you have been living under a rock or have no interactions with teenagers, I'll tell you that this book and the three that follow it have developed a cult following, especially among teenage girls, that rivals J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series. My thirteen-year-old granddaughter has read all four of the books, and earlier this summer was counting the days until the final one came out in August, then counting again until the movie "Twilight" was released in December. She owns all of the books, has read each one multiple times, and wears a t-shirt emblazoned with Edward's photo. Thousands--probably millions--of teens and young women are just as devoted. I decided to read the book just to find out what all the "fuss" was about. I knew some of the main characters were vampires, but I was surprised that the novel was a fairly innocuous love story between a human and a vampire. My granddaughter was disappointed when I told her my reaction--"It was okay"--but she was somewhat appeased when I explained that if I were a teenager once again I would probably love it. It's fast reading, but I wouldn't recommend it to adults unless you want to find out what your teenage daughter is reading.

However, a book I would recommend is the novel I just finished, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. When I saw the title in a list of recommended books, I was intrigued and checked it out of the library.

The novel is set in London in 1946, and Europe is still recovering from World War II. The protagonist, Juliet Ashton, is a 33-year-old author enjoying her first success as a writer, traveling around England on a book tour and trying to think of a subject for her next book.

One day Juliet receives a letter from Dawsey Adams who lives on Guernsey in the Channel Islands. He has found a copy of the essays of Charles Lamb that once belonged to her and asks her help in locating more writings by Lamb, since books are scarce on Guernsey. Juliet does more than just write a perfunctory reply: she sends a copy of another book of Lamb's essays and a book of Lamb's letters. She also shares some trivia about Lamb's life and encourages Dawsey in his reading:

"That's what I love about reading: one tiny thing will interest you in a book, and that tiny thing will lead you onto another book, and another bit there will lead you onto a third book. It's geometrically progressive--all with no end in sight, and for no other reason than sheer enjoyment."

Juliet is also curious about the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society to which Dawsey mentions he belongs and asks about its meaning. Thus begins a correspondence between Juliet and Dawsey and eventually other residents of Guernsey.

As she exchanges letters with other members of the Literary Society, Juliet learns that the Literary Society was formed spontaneously one night as an alibi for a group of residents who were out after curfew. The Germans had taken over the island and enforced strict rules and rations on the residents; breaking the curfew could have resulted in a severe punishment. To keep up the ruse, the residents continued to meet and actually began reading books in case their Nazi captors checked in on them. The "potato peel pie" was added to the name later when Will Thisbee insisted on refreshments at the meetings and concocted a potato and beet pie--food was scarce--with potato peels as the crust. Eventually, Juliet realizes there is a story here and decides to visit Guernsey to meet her correspondents in person. At first her intention is to write about the Society for a series of newspaper articles, but after she arrives on the island, she is drawn into the lives of these people and realizes their story is worthy of a book, not a brief news story.

The novel is written as a series of letters, which I usually don't enjoy. The letters are included chronologically, so that letters from several different characters appear before a reply to any of them can be made. This could lead to some confusion, but it doesn't; rather, it makes the storyline more realistic as well as hooking the reader into wanting to continue to read. I quickly found myself changing my mind about the letter format; the letters were entertaining and full of detail that revealed the traits and thoughts of each character, making it easy to empathize with them. The characters are neither two-dimensional nor stereotypes. Not all the Nazis are evil, and not all the natives are honorable.

And it is the characters who make this story. Juliet is a bright, compassionate young woman who writes with humor and feeling. In the very first letter to her editor she describes her problems with coming up with a new idea for a book:

"English Foibles seemed so promising at first. After all, one should be able to write reams about the Society to Protest the Glorification of the English Bunny. I unearthed a photograph of the Vermin Exterminators' Trade union, marching down an Oxford street with placards screaming 'Down with Beatrix Potter!' But what is there to write about after a caption? Nothing, that's what."

There is humor, too, in the reading choices made by some of the other colorful characters. Limited to books available, a pig farmer chooses the essays of Charles Lamb; a rather eccentric herbalist decides to read Pride and Prejudice; and two laborers nearly break up an old friendship over the writings of Marcus Aurelius and Thomas Carlyle.

Mary Ann Shaffer worked as an editor and a librarian before writing this, her first novel, and her love of reading and books is one of the themes in the novel. But the novel is about much more than reading, and it is not always humorous. Guernsey was occupied by the Nazis for much of WWII, and the residents suffered deprivation and witnessed acts of inhumanity that have deeply affected them. All of them have lost at least one person dear to them. For some, the wounds will never heal completely. But they are survivors, and while they recall some of their horrific memories for Juliet, they also remember poignant stories of kindness and heroics. A Nazi doctor secretly brings medicine for a sick Guernsey child. A resident takes in a nearly dead Todt, one of the prisoners of war that the Nazis use as slaves until they collapse from starvation. And then there is Elizabeth McKenna, whose story develops over the course of the book. A determined woman of unbelievable courage, she does what is right regardless of the danger to her. This novel is a story of the strength of the human spirit and the bonds that connect people.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society was one of those serendipitous finds for me--a novel I had never heard of before, but am so glad I found. It was a delightful read, and I highly recommend you check it out to while a few of these gloomy winter evenings. In fact, I'd like to find another surprise like this, so I would welcome any reading recommendations that you might have, too.