Those Across the River, Christopher Buehlman

[amazon_image id=”0441020674″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” class=”alignleft”]Those Across the River[/amazon_image]Frank Nichols and his wife Dora move to Whitbrow, Georgia, to claim a home left to Frank by his aunt in Christopher Buehlman’s novel [amazon_link id=”0441020674″ target=”_blank” ]Those Across the River[/amazon_link]. Frank and Dora believe that moving to Georgia will give them a fresh start: Dora has left her husband for Frank, and Frank’s career as an academic has been destroyed by Dora’s powerful ex-husband. Frank believes he may be inspired to write the story of his great-grandfather, a harsh plantation owner who refused to liberate his slaves when the Yankee army came through and who died in a slave uprising as a result. Dora takes a job teaching school. The woods across the river near Whitbrow, however, hold a mysterious menace. Before long, Frank will find himself wishing he had heeded his aunt’s advice and sold the home rather than try to make a go of it too close to “those across the river.”

Those Across the River is a strong debut. The balance between creepy dread and outright horror is nicely struck, and that is no easy feat to accomplish. I flew through the last third or so of the book in an evening. Buehman’s pacing was deft. He lures the reader in with Whitbrow’s small-town charm and creepy atmosphere. I don’t hold with critics describing Buehlman’s prose as lyrical in the vein of Fitzgerald or Hemingway’s, but it’s a step up from your usual horror novel. It is much more a literary heir of novels like [amazon_link id=”0143106163″ target=”_blank” ]Dracula[/amazon_link] or the stories of Edgar Allan Poe.

This was a great R.I.P. read and is even set mostly in October, so grab it now so that you can more fully savor the novel with the added creepiness of reading it during the same time of year it’s set. Most of you probably can’t live near the setting like I can, and I can tell you, I did jump a little when I walked past the creepy house at the end of our street while I was finishing up a chapter of this book. This novel makes the woods seem almost as menacing and creepy as [amazon_link id=”B00001QGUM” target=”_blank” ]The Blair Witch Project[/amazon_link] before it, and I couldn’t be near trees in the dark for a long time after I saw that movie.

Rating: ★★★★½

Sharyn McCrumb with Tom Dula's fiddle

The Ballad of Tom Dooley, Sharyn McCrumb

[amazon_image id=”0312558171″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” class=”alignleft”]The Ballad of Tom Dooley: A Ballad Novel[/amazon_image]Sharyn McCrumb’s latest ballad novel, [amazon_link id=”0312558171″ target=”_blank” ]The Ballad of Tom Dooley[/amazon_link], concerns perhaps the most famous of the Appalachian murder ballads, the story of how Tom Dooley, or Tom Dula as he was really known, came to be hanged for the murder of Laura Foster. Tom Dula was a ne’er-do-well Civil War veteran who was involved with Ann Foster Melton, a married woman and Laura Foster’s cousin. According to the legend, Tom led Laura to believe they were eloping, but murdered her and buried her in a shallow grave on a ridge instead. The motives for the murder have varied from Tom’s blaming Laura for giving him syphilis to avoiding marrying her because she was pregnant. However, many have doubted whether or not Tom Dula really did kill Laura Foster, particularly because he wrote a confession on the eve of his execution asserting that he alone was responsible for Laura’s death, presumably to exonerate Ann Melton, who had been arrested shortly after Tom himself and was charged in Laura’s death as well. McCrumb saw parallels between the story of Tom Dula, Ann Melton, and Laura Foster and Emily Brontë’s [amazon_link id=”0143105434″ target=”_blank” ]Wuthering Heights[/amazon_link]. When I read of this connection on McCrumb’s website, I was even more excited to read The Ballad of Tom DooleyWuthering Heights is my favorite book. And McCrumb did not disappoint me on this account.

McCrumb chooses as her two narrators Zebulon Baird Vance, who served North Carolina as governor and senator and came from the Appalachian mountains of western North Carolina himself. Following the Civil War, he was unable to hold a public office for a time and practiced law until this restriction was lifted for Confederate veterans. He was appointed to defend Tom Dula and Ann Melton pro bono. He serves as the stand-in for Mr. Lockwood, the outsider who more or less frames the beginning and end of the story, although unlike Brontë’s Lockwood, he narrates some sections in the middle of the novel. McCrumb’s Nelly Dean is Pauline Foster, a cousin of Ann Melton and Laura Foster’s, who comes to Wilkes County to be treated by a doctor for her syphilis and spreads discord. McCrumb paints her as a sociopath (Nelly isn’t that bad, though I always wonder how much she is telling the truth about Catherine and Heathcliff). Pauline narrates the bulk of the story. Her motive for causing so much destruction seems to stem from envy of Ann and a sense that she has somehow been mistreated by Ann.

Ann Melton and Tom Dula serve as McCrumb’s Catherine and Heathcliff, but no Cathy Linton, Linton Heathcliff, or Hareton Earnshaw redeem the families and set things to rights in the next generation. Ann Melton is just as narcissistic and unlikeable as Catherine Earnshaw, though Tom Dula does not come off nearly as badly as Heathcliff. McCrumb even rewrites some passages from Wuthering Heights into her novel, including the famous “I am Heathcliff” speech:

“We’re just the same, Tom and me. we come from the same place, and we’re made of the same clay. And maybe the devil spit in it before God made us, but at least we belong together, him and me.”

“It seems hard lines on your husband, you feeling like that.”

“I love them both, Pauline, but not in the same way. My love for James is like that field out there that he spends half his time plowing and sowing and weeding, and all. It will change. The crops die in the winter, or dry up in a summer drought, or the soil gives out, so that you must let it lie fallow for a time and let the weeds take it. It comes and goes, that field. But Tom … Tom is like that green mountain you can see rising there in the west, holding up the sky. It never changes. It will be the same forever.” (55-56)

This story appealed to me in the same way as Wuthering Heights appeals to me: I can’t understand it. I usually have to like the characters in a book, or I can’t really enjoy the book much. This book, however, offers no one to really root for, not even Laura Foster herself, no one to care for, and no one to sympathize with, just like Wuthering Heights. Even the setting in western North Carolina calls to mind the moors of Yorkshire in the way that both are wild places untamed by men. The cover is just gorgeous. It’s a composite of a design commissioned by the publishers and a real photograph of the area where Laura Foster died taken by McCrumb herself. McCrumb’s novel is a fine achievement built upon solid research and historical basis that still manages to read like literary fiction. The gothic elements of the murder and connection to Wuthering Heights made it a perfect read for the R.I.P. Challenge.

Sharyn McCrumb with Tom Dula's fiddle
Sharyn McCrumb with Tom Dula's fiddle

Read more about this novel at McCrumb’s website.

If you have Spotify, you can listen to the Kingston Trio’s famous rendition of “Tom Dooley.”

Rating: ★★★★★

The Secret History, Donna Tartt

[amazon_image id=”1400031702″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” class=”alignleft”]The Secret History[/amazon_image]Critic A. O. Scott has called Donna Tartt’s novel [amazon_link id=”1400031702″ target=”_blank” ]The Secret History[/amazon_link] “a murder mystery in reverse.” In the first few pages of the novel, narrated by Richard Papen, a student in a small group of classics majors taught by charismatic and myterious Julian Morrow and which includes cold, enigmatic Henry Winter, twins Charles and Camilla Macaulay, foppish (he wears a pince-nez, I kid you not) Francis Abernathy, and Edmund “Bunny” Corcoran, the reader learns that the group has evidently conspired to murder Bunny and make it look like an accident. What the reader does not know is why. Richard slowly reveals the motive for the murder, as well as the ways in which it reverberates among the members of the group.

After recounting the murder, Richard tells the story more or less chronologically. At the beginning, he transfers to Hampden College in Vermont seemingly to get as far away from his parents in Plano, California, as he can. He becomes intrigued by the classics students, and having studied Greek previously, seeks entry into their exclusive courses. Julian initially denies Richard, and Richard becomes somewhat obsessed with the classics students. One day, he helps some of them with a Greek grammar question, and he is offered a place in their exclusive course of study. Initially, he is somewhat of an outsider in the group, who go on cliquish excursions to Francis’s house in the country and are oddly close-lipped around Richard. Over time, Richard is allowed into the group’s circle of friendship and he discovers a horrible secret about a wild night in the woods near Francis’s country house.

The Secret History is an intriguing thriller. Knowing from the outset that the group will murder one of their friends did nothing to diminish the mystery: quite the reverse, in fact. Initially, the group seem like such logical intellects and scholars that one can hardly imagine what will lead to Bunny’s murder, but as the book progresses, even events that seem outlandish on the surface are rendered in such a plausible way, that the reader hardly questions. (Of course a bunch of highly intelligent classics majors, seeking to get closer to the ancient Greeks they study, would stage a bacchanal. That’s perfectly logical!) Tartt offers an interesting character study into what prompts a murder and how it affects each member of the group differently. The Secret History is as much a character study as anything else, and I think the reader will be surprised by the ending (which did not go where I thought it would, for sure).

Tartt has a gift for description, choosing for her narrator a man who describes his own fatal flaw early in the novel:

Does such a thing as “the fatal flaw,” that showy dark crack running down the middle of a life, exist outside literature? I used to think it didn’t. Now I think it does. And I think that mine is this: a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs. (7)

And Richard describes everything he sees with this rapt beauty, from the run-down room with the hole in the roof in a house owned by an aging hippie where he spends his winter (and nearly dies of pneumonia) to Bunny’s descent into the ravine, windmilling and grasping for something, anything, to prevent his fall. Richard struggles to see things as they really are and renders events as he seems to wish they had occurred. He even admits this flaw near the end, as he tells the reader how he would have liked to have described an event—his description would have rendered it more romantic.

Jenny has a great review of this book (in fact, it was her review that put the book on my radar). She says,

[A]s a classics geek, I love it that this book makes Latin students seem super dangerous and dark and edgy. This is not necessarily the typical portrayal of Latin students, but it appeals to me: Watch out for us classics people. We are loose cannons and might push you off a cliff if you cross us. Or we might not. YOU JUST DO NOT KNOW.

Point taken, Jenny. I’m not sure I’ll be able to turn my back on a classics major ever again. Awesome read, Jenny. Thanks for for recommending it.

Rating: ★★★★★

This Sunday review shared as part of the Sunday Salon.

The Sunday Salon

Full disclosure: I obtained this book from PaperBackSwap.

Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, Ransom Riggs

[amazon_image id=”1594744769″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” class=”alignleft”]Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children[/amazon_image]Ransom Riggs’s novel [amazon_link id=”1594744769″ target=”_blank” ]Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children[/amazon_link] is part bildungsroman, part gothic fairy tale. Its hero, Jacob Portman, is a teenager living in Florida. He is close to his grandfather, Abe Portman, the only member of his family to survive the Holocaust. Abe tells crazy stories about an orphanage in Wales where he grew up, and he shows Jacob the most fantastic photos of the children who lived there—a girl who could fly, a boy who had bees living inside him, and an invisible boy. As Jacob grows up, he stops believing his grandfather’s fantastic stories until he witnesses a terrible attack on his grandfather that makes him question everything. Jacob’s family believes he is unable to cope with the stress of losing his grandfather, and Jacob begins therapy with Dr. Golan. Finally, Jacob decides he must travel to Wales and see the orphanage where his grandfather grew up in order to come to terms with his grandfather’s death. When he arrives, he discovers his grandfather’s wild stories just might be true.

This book was a delight from start to finish. It has moments of laugh-out-loud humor and hair-raising terror. I really liked the way Riggs managed to describe the reason for everything from sideshow “freaks” to cannibalistic serial killers to the Tunguska Event. After reading this book, you’ll look at mysteries in a new way. Most reviewers who read this book remark on the way Riggs manages to seamlessly weave bizarre photographs into his narrative, but it’s true. I would not read this one the Kindle. You will not enjoy the full effect of the photographs in that way. Jacob is a likeable hero; in fact, I liked all of the characters in this book. I also enjoyed the time-travel aspect. A word of warning: the book is ripe for a sequel, and if you pick it up, who knows how long you’ll have to wait until the next installment (and I hope there will be one!). This novel is one of the most unusual, fun, and absorbing novels I read this year. Perfect for the R.I.P. Challenge!

Rating: ★★★★★

R.I.P. Challenge

Why the R.I.P. Challenge Works

R.I.P. ChallengeEvery year it seems Carl manages to generate a lot of interest and participation in the R.I.P. Challenge. Why is this challenge so successful? As both a participant in several challenges and a challenge host, I have been thinking about it, and I think what Carl gets right that other challenge hosts, including myself, don’t, involves several key factors.

First, Carl is running it for the sixth year in a row. I decided to host a challenge on a whim, and I have no intention of hosting the same challenge next year (and, if I’m honest, I can’t even really muster the enthusiasm to complete it!), but that is probably the best way to generate interest in a challenge. I can’t confirm this (perhaps Carl could), but my hunch is that he has more participants each year. It stands to reason that as those participants talk about the challenge on their blogs and convince others to participate it grows each year a little bit like those old Faberge Organics commercials from the 1970’s and 1980’s. Carl has built the R.I.P. Challenge into such an event that he would have to recruit another host if he ever tired of it.  It’s one of the longest-running challenges that I can think of.

Another element of the R.I.P. Challenge that differs from other challenges is that while it doesn’t quite completely take over Carl’s blog for the two months it’s running, it is certainly prominently featured. For example, Carl usually finds an artist to design the buttons and banners and features that artist in a post. Carl also hosts several giveaways related to the challenge. The giveaways might be fun Halloween decorations or bookmarks. Carl also features R.I.P.-appropriate books during the challenge. In other words, he doesn’t just create a post explaining the challenge and leave it at that. The challenge becomes an event that drives people back to his blog to participate more.

Another thing I think Carl gets right is the length of the challenge. A lot of challenges, including most of the ones I am currently participating in and the one I am hosting, are year-long challenges. Year-long challenges are nice in that they allow late-comers to participate and also give participants flexibility without time-pressure. However, in keeping the challenge at two months and running it only during a certain time of year, Carl makes the R.I.P. Challenge more of an event, like a festival. Part of the appeal of festivals is that they don’t happen every weekend. They happen once a year, and they become something to look forward to and plan for.

Finally, I think Carl has married the perfect form of literature to time of year with the R.I.P. Challenge: creepy, gothic, scary stories are perfect for fall. By keeping the definition loose and allowing users to decide what constitutes the perfect R.I.P. book, but also putting constraints of some sort, Carl encourages readers to read books that for whatever reason just seem to define fall. It culminates appropriately with that old pagan holiday that celebrated the new year when the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead was especially thin—Halloween, of course—long celebrated for ghosties and ghoulies and long-legged beasties. And naturally perfect for the challenge.

Carl does all of this with his Once Upon a Time Challenge as well, but I think the one element that the R.I.P. Challenge has that Once Upon a Time does not is that perfect marriage of time of year with subject matter. I don’t care what the temperature is outside, when I see the R.I.P. Challenge has begun, it suddenly feels like fall. The air feels crisper and I can almost imagine the leaves turning, even here in Georgia, where fall happens so much later.

I’m currently reading [amazon_link id=”1594744769″ target=”_blank” ]Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children[/amazon_link] by Ransom Riggs for the challenge, and despite compiling a longlist the other day, I may or may not read those particular books for the challenge. After all, I just acquired [amazon_link id=”1463612214″ target=”_blank” ]Whitechapel: The Final Stand of Sherlock Holmes[/amazon_link] by Bernard J. Schaffer for $2.99 on my [amazon_link id=”B002FQJT3Q” target=”_blank” ]Kindle[/amazon_link] (it is still available for that price!), and who knows what else I might get my hands on before the end of October.

The Sunday Salon

The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter, Sharyn McCrumb

[amazon_image id=”0451403703″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” class=”alignleft”]The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter (Onyx)[/amazon_image]Sharyn McCrumb’s second ballad novel, [amazon_link id=”0451403703″ target=”_blank” ]The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter[/amazon_link], traces the threads of several interconnected stories. The novel begins as Sheriff Spencer Arrowood and Deputy Joe LeDonne are investigating the apparent murder-suicide of the Underhill family. High school students Mark and Maggie Underhill arrived home from play rehearsal to discover their older brother Josh apparently murdered the family and then killed himself. Sheriff Arrowood calls Laura Bruce, wife of the church pastor (who is serving as a chaplain in the Gulf War at the time), who agrees to be the young Underhills’ guardian. Meanwhile, Tavy Annis, an elderly man who has lived all his life near the Little Dove River, discovers he has incurable cancer, most likely caused by pollutants deposited in the river by an upriver North Carolina paper plant. He and his friend Taw McBryde attempt to draw attention to the polluted river, but are frustrated at every turn as no one seems to want to help. Meanwhile, Laura Bruce discovers she is pregnant and anticipates the arrival of her baby while feeling lonely without her husband. Nora Bonesteel, Dark Hollow’s resident witch (for lack of a better term) is seeing disturbing images. Spencer Arrowood mourns the end of his favorite artist Naomi Judd’s career as she retires because of a hepatitis diagnosis.

If it seems that everywhere you turn in this novel, you find death, disease, and destruction, then that’s about right. Compared with the other two McCrumb novels I have read, it is darker and more gothic. Over the course of three McCrumb books in a row, I’ve learned to trust Joe LeDonne’s instincts, and when he thinks something smells fishy about the Underhill murders, I thought he was right. Their true story was quite tragic. This is also the first time I cried reading a McCrumb book. Describing why I cried might be spoilery, but suffice it to say that I think any mother would. I kept turning the pages at the same rate as I had the previous two McCrumb books I read, but I think the various threads were not as tightly woven together as in the other two books. The characters were connected by one thing or another, but in some cases, only tangentially. I enjoyed the novel, as I enjoyed the other two. It’s so exciting when you discover a new author to love, especially one as prolific as Sharyn McCrumb.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Full disclosure: I received this book via PaperBackSwap.

WWW Wednesdays

WWW Wednesdays—August 31, 2011

WWW WednesdaysTo play along, just answer the following three (3) questions…

  • What are you currently reading?
  • What did you recently finish reading?
  • What do you think you’ll read next?

I am currently reading Sharyn McCrumb’s [amazon_link id=”B000MWFFS8″ target=”_blank” ]The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter[/amazon_link]. I have just been tearing through her books, but this one is fairly dark! Still good. I think I should finish it before too long, and then it’s R.I.P. Time.

Speaking of which…

Peril the First

I’m doing it this year. I am not playing around. Four books or bust! Actually, I think I have a shot this year since I seem to have figured out, at nearly 40 years old, how to read a little faster. Better late than never.

I recently finished [amazon_link id=”0451197399″ target=”_blank” ]The Ballad of Frankie Silver[/amazon_link] by Sharyn McCrumb (review).

I am not sure which books I’ll read next yet, but I have several ideas. Sharyn McCrumb books count for the R.I.P. Challenge! [amazon_link id=”0345369068″ target=”_blank” ]If Ever I Return, Pretty Peggy-O[/amazon_link] arrived in my mailbox today via PaperBackSwap, so maybe that one. Looking forward to the challenge, as I do every year.

R.I.P. Challenge Longlist

R.I.P. Challenge Longlist

R.I.P. Challenge Longlist

I’ve compiled my longlist for the R.I.P. Challenge—assuming, of course, that I don’t acquire other books to add to this list before the challenge begins, which is quite likely. After all, I have quite a number of Sharyn McCrumb novels coming to me from PaperBackSwap. My favorite challenge every year! You can learn more about each of these books by clicking on their covers below:

[amazon_image id=”0316068624″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Wolves of Andover: A Novel[/amazon_image] [amazon_image id=”0345506014″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Summer in the South: A Novel[/amazon_image] [amazon_image id=”1416550550″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Forgotten Garden: A Novel[/amazon_image]

[amazon_image id=”0312335881″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Who Murdered Chaucer?: A Medieval Mystery[/amazon_image] [amazon_image id=”1594744769″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children[/amazon_image] [amazon_image id=”B002NPCTH2″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]A Dead Man in Deptford (Burgess, Anthony)[/amazon_image]

[amazon_image id=”B004J8HWKU” link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Seance[/amazon_image] [amazon_image id=”0385521073″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Ghostwalk[/amazon_image]

The Songcatcher, Sharyn McCrumb

[amazon_image id=”0451202503″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” class=”alignleft”]The Songcatcher[/amazon_image]Sharyn McCrumb’s novel [amazon_link id=”0451202503″ target=”_blank” ]The Songcatcher[/amazon_link] is part of her series of ballad novels, based on Appalachian ballads (which I still maintain is one of the cleverest ideas I’ve ever heard of). The novel is the story of a family who settles in the mountain border of North Carolina and Tennessee and passes down an old Scottish ballad through the family from the eighteenth century to the modern day. The story begins as Lark McCourry, a country music singer born Linda Walker, tries to recall an old song she heard relatives sing at a gathering when she was young. John Walker, her elderly father, with whom she has a contentious relationship, becomes sick and is expected to die soon, so his housekeeper and surrogate daughter Becky Tilden calls Lark home. The story flashes back through some of Lark and John’s ancestors, starting with Malcolm McCourry, who was kidnapped and conscripted by a sailing ship at the age of nine, never to see his home on the Isle of Islay in Scotland again. Once he nears the age of twenty, he apprentices to a lawyer in Morristown, NJ. Many years later, he abandons his family and heads south with his daughter Jane and her husband to settle in the North Carolina mountains, where he establishes a second family. Before the end of the novel, Malcolm’s great-grandson Pinckney McCourry, a prisoner of war during the Civil War; Pinckney’s nephew Zebulon, an orphaned boy; Ellender McCourry, Zebulon’s daughter; and John Walker, Lark’s father and Ellender’s son, all have the opportunity to tell a part of their story and to explain how they received their family’s ballad, “The Rowan Stave.”

I absolutely adored this book from start to finish. It was so good that I didn’t want it to end. I loved Sharyn Crumb’s characters, most of whom are based on her own ancestors and retain their own names. Zebulon McCourry was her real great-grandfather, and Malcolm McCourry was her real four-times great grandfather. One of the things I loved best about this novel is the way it tackled the issue of northerners and other outsiders coming into Appalachia and making all sorts of erroneous assumptions about the intellect, culture, and beliefs of the people who settled there. McCrumb manages to touch on everything from why the Civil War led to feuds, such as the Hatfield and McCoy feud, all the way to how songcatchers came through Appalachia and took advantage of the people by collecting their folk songs, then copyrighting them for profit. Some of the writing is quite lyrical, and it is clear that McCrumb hails from a long line of born storytellers. I particularly liked Malcolm McCourry, though his decision to abandon his family in New Jersey caused friction and hurt his older children, particularly when he married a second time and supplanted his new family for his first one. I absolutely loved Zebulon’s story of tangling with a couple of condescending women from Boston. Pinckney was an intriguing figure, too. I also liked Baird Christopher, owner of a hostel in the mountains, especially as he explains how to pronounce Appalachia to a New Yorker.

The ballad itself is catchy, and it would be interesting to hear the tune, which McCrumb says in her Afterword was set to music by Shelley Stevens. It looks like you can purchase it from her website. It is the story of the mother of the Brahan seer, and explains how she found a stone that gave her son the Sight—a worthy old Scottish story.

The respect that McCrumb shows for Appalachia is, unfortunately, rare and is perfectly rendered through various encounters her characters have with outsiders. The book could, in many ways, be considered a love letter to that region and to the stories that are passed down through the generations. I am very interested in my own family history (some of which does have roots in Appalachia), so I found that element of the book particularly fascinating. Our ancestors anchor us in the world, I believe. They show us how we fit into this great chain of being and give us a sense of belonging and, in some ways, importance, which is another element McCrumb touches on when one of her characters describes the slim chance that brings any one of us into existence. If you really think about how close you have come to not ever being, your head will spin. I know I can’t help but feel grateful to my ancestors for all the choices they made that ensured I could be born one day.

If you are interested in family history, you will surely find this book as captivating as I did. Even if you aren’t interested in that sort of thing, The Songcatcher is an intriguing read and manages to maintain the feel of a mystery even without being a mystery proper. It’s a truly wonderful read. It may be hard to find, but you can order new or used copies from Amazon through associated sellers. I obtained my copy via PaperBackSwap.

Rating: ★★★★★

A Room with a View, E. M. Forster

[amazon_image id=”0451531388″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” class=”alignleft”]A Room With a View[/amazon_image]E. M. Forster’s classic novel [amazon_link id=”0451531388″ target=”_blank” ]A Room With a View[/amazon_link] has a whisper-thin plot: Lucy Honeychurch travels to to Florence, Italy, with her cousin Miss Bartlett. While she is staying in the Pensione Bertolini, she meets a father and his son, the Emersons, whom everyone else at the pension thinks are coarse and crude. Desiring some independence and frustrated with her companions, Lucy goes out on her own and witnesses a murder in the street. George Emerson, the son, is there to assist her. Emerson falls in love with Lucy and kisses her. The next morning, her cousin, feeling she has failed Lucy and her mother as a guardian, whisks Lucy away to Rome. When they return to England, Lucy becomes engaged to Cecil Vyse, a man whose previous two proposals she has rejected. Cecil does not much like Lucy’s family, but he sees her as something of a project, a sort of Galatea to his Pygmalion. Meanwhile, the Emersons become the Honeychurches’ neighbors when they let a cottage nearby, and Lucy must determine how she feels about George Emerson and Cecil Vyse.

A Room with a View is actually interesting as a character study. In a short book without a tremendous amount of action, Forster manages to capture human nature very well. I found myself surprised at how easily I could picture everything Forster described, and it was not as though he labored over the descriptions. Instead, he captured characters so deftly in their dialogue and in their bodily movements that not much description was needed in order to convey the scenes perfectly. I especially liked Miss Bartlett’s character—I didn’t like her personality, but as a character, she was well-drawn and so believable. Some of the things she said and did made me think of Dame Maggie Smith, so I began picturing Smith in the role. Finally, I checked IMDb, and I discovered Maggie Smith had indeed played the role of Miss Bartlett in the 1985 production (which has an outstanding cast—I plan to see it as soon as I can). Certainly doesn’t surprise me that the book was made into a film—it read almost like a film. The book also contains some humorous instances of fourth-wall breaking and gorgeous observations about humanity. For this fan of [amazon_link id=”B0047H7QD6″ target=”_blank” ]Downton Abbey[/amazon_link], it was a treat to read, and I will definitely read more of Forster’s books.

Update, 8/7/11: I never do this, but I decided to change my star-rating after thinking about it some more. I watched the film today on Netflix, and the casting was perfect. Once again, I was amazed at how well characterized the novel was and how easily, therefore, it translated to the screen. Perhaps the film was an influence, but now I can’t see why it shouldn’t have a full five stars rather than 4½. I cannot imagine a better cast for the film. The clothing and sets were gorgeous. I highly recommend watching the film to anyone who has read the book.

 

Rating: ★★★★★

I used the What Should I Read Next tool to decide on this book (I had already had it on my [amazon_link id=”B002FQJT3Q” target=”_blank” ]Kindle[/amazon_link] for ages), mainly so I could complete Challenge 7: What Should I Read Next Pick for the Take a Chance Challenge. I picked A Room with a View from the list of books that appeared when I searched for the last book I read (and reviewed), [amazon_link id=”B0058M62OS” target=”_blank” ]The Winter Sea[/amazon_link] by Susanna Kearsley.