ONCE MORE TO THE SHELVES

FAVORITE BOOKS READ IN 2004

By Laurie Meunier Graves

Few things give me more pleasure than reflecting on what I have read during the past year. In a little notebook, I keep a list of all these books, and a good thing it is that I do this. The notables I remember, but the others often take me by surprise. Last year, did I really read Martin Luther by Martin Marty? Indeed I did, and there it is on my list. It wasn’t one of my favorites, but I am not sorry I read it. After perusing the list comes the dubious pleasure of running through the house to find the books that made it to my top ten list. Unfortunately, my bookshelves are not as organized as my reading list, and sometimes it takes me awhile to find the books I’m looking for. But I am persistent, and eventually on the chest by my desk I have a comforting stack of books to consult as I compile my list.

I am, as Robertson Davies put it, a “rake at reading,” and because of this, the books I read for pleasure seem random, disconnected even. How to reconcile The Fire Balloon by Ruth Moore with A Jacques Barzun Reader by Jacques Barzun? It would seem to be a clear case of gritty heart going up against sophisticated intellect. And yet perhaps they are not as far apart as they seem. In his fine essay A Rake at Reading, Davies concludes “Reading is not escape, something done at random; it is directed unerringly toward the inner target. It is truly a turning inward. It is exploration, extension, and reflection of one’s innermost self. If I have been a rake at reading, the caprice has been to the outward eye alone. The inward spirit, I am convinced, knew very well what it was doing.”

A JACQUES BARZUN READER by Jacques Barzun and edited with an introduction by Michael Murray

An outstanding collection of essays written by one of the great minds of our time. In his introduction, Michael Murray does not state when Barzun first started writing, but Murray notes that by age nineteen, Barzun was already going strong. Barzun is now in his nineties, and he is still going strong. A remarkable man. In A Jacques Barzun Reader, the range and subjects are broad—education, the classics, language, writers, racism. Barzun is generous and opinionated, and his writing is a pleasure to read. The first essay alone has more wisdom and perception than is usually found in an entire book. In "Toward a Fateful Serenity", Barzun writes, “Where then, is this enemy? Not where the machine gives relief from drudgery but where human judgment abdicates. Any ossified institution—almost every bureaucracy, public or private—manifests the mechanical. So does race-thinking—a verdict passed mechanically at a color-coded signal. Ideology is likewise an idea machine, designed to spare the buyer all further thought.” This last sentence is something Americans of every political party should reflect on.

A WILLIAM MAXWELL PORTRAIT: MEMORIES AND APPRECIATIONS edited and introduced by Charles Baxter, Michael Collier, and Edward Hirsch

The word “great” should be used sparingly when it comes to describing humans, whatever their professions might be. However, I do not think it an exaggeration to call William Maxwell a great writer and a great editor. His slim novel So Long, See you Tomorrow is a haunting marvel of economy and generosity. Even the dog gets his due. For many years, Maxwell was a fiction editor at the New Yorker, and his skill at working with writers has almost become the stuff of legend. Alas, no one lives forever, and William Maxwell died in July 2000 after having lived a long, creative life. (He was born in 1908.) In A William Maxwell Portrait, some of the writers who knew, loved, and worked with him have written about their impressions of Maxwell. Not only do these essays provide a portrait of Maxwell, but they also give insight into his work. By the time readers have finished this book, they can only conclude that Maxwell was a great person as well as a great editor and writer, a rare combination.

THE WILD PARROTS OF TELEGRAPH HILL by Mark Bittner

The true story of one man’s long search for love and right livelihood. Mark Bittner’s way of finding it—indirectly through his fascination with and affection for the “wild” parrots in San Francisco—is both moving and instructive. Bittner moves from being a failed musician—at times homeless, often adrift, and frequently dependent on the kindness of friends—to being a writer with both a home and a purpose. The parrots, cherry-headed conures, become vivid characters as Bittner feeds and observes these birds who fly freely around San Francisco as they search for food, mate, and raise their young. Many were originally captive birds who somehow escaped, and Bittner’s empathy for them shines through in his writing. This could lead to an over-the-top kind of New Age book, with Bittner as the guru of parrots, but somehow it never does. Bittner’s understated style combined with a healthy respect for facts ground his observations and make for a perfect blend of heart and mind. In addition, there is also a beautiful documentary film of the same name made by Judy Irving, and I was lucky enough to see it this summer at the Maine International Film Festival. This movie chronicles Bittner’s story and, of course, the parrots’. The film and the book make terrific companions, with neither one overshadowing the other. If the movie comes to a cinema near you, don’t hesitate to go see it.

THE RURAL LIFE by Verlyn Klinkenborg

A book of essays, written by this generation’s E. B. White, that begins in January, ends the following December, and describes life in the country. Like E. B. White, Klinkenborg’s writing is luminous. Like E. B. White, Klinkenborg clearly loves living in the country, even though he must spend part of his time in the city. And finally, like E. B. White, Klinkenborg looks to nature and the farm for meanings small and large. In the end, though, Klinkenborg has his own style and his own point of view. He observes that in March, “the woods look no more disordered than they ever do. Chaos is always thriving just beyond the tree line….Gardening on the edge of wildness, I’m able to impose order on nature only so far—a few hundred feet from the house at best.” I suspect this is true for every one of us, whether we garden or not.

THE FIRE BALLOON by Ruth Moore

I have a confession to make. I don’t read novels as often as I should. This is because my only free reading time is in bed at night, and novels will not let me sleep. On and on I read until the clock strikes two or three, and when I’m done, I’m wide-awake. This very thing happened with The Fire Balloon, but the book is so good that the bleariness I felt the next day hardly seemed to matter. Set in coastal Maine in the 1940s, The Fire Balloon follows the Sewells of Scratch Corner as well their friends, acquaintances, and adversaries. However, the two main characters are the teenage Theo and Wesley, sister and brother, and the reader aches with them as they try to find their place in the world. Moore, who died in 1989, had the ability to handle a large cast of characters and, with just a few lines, makes the reader know and understand them. Sometimes the characters are hateful, sometimes they are greedy, other times they are loyal and loving. Often they are foolish. But they are always very human, and when I finished reading this book, I felt enlarged. If I were forced to choose one favorite book of the year, The Fire Balloon would be my choice.

OF KINGS AND FOOLS by Michael Parent and Julien Olivier

This book is on the list for very personal reasons. I suppose this is true of all the books on the list, but because of my Franco-American background, Of Kings and Fools especially resonated with me. It bills itself as “stories of the French tradition in North America,” but Of Kings and Fools made this Franco feel as though she was actually part of the greater Western culture. This might seem like a strange thing to write, but for many years, as a member of a minority group in a larger Anglo-American culture, I felt as though Franco-Americans had somehow crawled out from under a rock and then multiplied without any past, any history, and any larger traditions from France and the rest of Europe. Even our language seemed like a mutation, hardly French at all. Of Kings and Fools is a most welcome reminder that Franco-Americans do indeed have a history beyond Maine and North America. Of Kings and Fools comprises a mix of tales and legends that have made their way into nearly every fairy tale book and features Ti-Jean doing all the foolish things that the hapless English Jack did. Parent and Olivier also have included some of their own family stories as well as a dash of uniquely French Canadian tales. All in all, this is a book to treasure, not just for Franco-Americans but for anyone who loves the old stories.

THE LIVES OF THE MUSES: NINE WOMAN AND THE ARTISTS THEY INSPIRED by Francine Prose

It is a well-known fact that male artists have often relied on women for artistic inspiration, which is usually, but not always, separate from the role of artistic “wifey” that women have frequently played. The wifey tends to the practical details of the artist’s life, smoothing things over so that the artist can create. Quite often the wifey also tends to the business aspect of the artist’s career, smoothing the road in that direction as well. On the other hand, the women who serve as artistic inspiration are known as “muses.” This concept began in Ancient Greece with nine goddesses but segued into something human centric that contains a large dose of “Eros,” which acts as a sort of creative fuel. As the title suggests, in The Lives of the Muses, Francine Prose examines “nine women and the artists they inspired.” She begins in the eighteenth century with Hester Thrale and Samuel Johnson, travels through the years, and ends with Yoko Ono and John Lennon. Prose notes that “every historical period re-creates the muse in its own image.” In this rich book, Prose examines artists, the role of men and women, how we are shifting from the personal muse to the more abstract muse, and, of course, the nine specific women who served as muses. It’s art history combined with gender studies fused with trenchant observations. An unbeatable combination.

WE BOUGHT AN ISLAND by Evelyn Richardson

The memoir of a former school teacher about the time she and her family (a husband and three children) spent running a lighthouse on Bon Portage Island, Nova Scotia. When Richardson first moved there in the late 1920s, conditions were primitive and raising a family was a challenge. I loved Richardson’s details of living on an island, and I admired her spunk and her determination to make a good life for her children in such an isolated spot. There is joy, contentment, sadness, and frustration in this book. In other words, the whole range of human emotions. Richardson is a model of industry, thrift, and creativity. I’d take her over Helen Nearing any day of the week. I found this gem in a used bookstore and bought it on impulse without knowing anything about Richardson. My impulse was a good one. It turns out that Richardson’s book, originally published as We Keep a Light, won Canada’s prestigious Governor General’s Literary Award in 1945.

THE WORKING POOR by David K. Shipler

A heart-breaking book on poverty in America and how the economic health of the country depends on the working poor. They serve us our coffee, cash our checks, and sell us the things we buy. There is hardly an area of our lives that they don’t touch, yet we barely give them a thought, unless it’s to complain about what a drain they are on the system. In simple and direct prose, Shipler highlights “the invisibles” of our society, profiling some of the people who keep this country running. He shows us their flaws as well as their virtues, and only the hardest among us could fail to be moved. Shipler concludes, “Workers at the edge of poverty are essential to America’s prosperity, but their well-being is not treated as an integral part of the whole. Instead, the forgotten wage a daily struggle to keep themselves from falling over the cliff. It is time to be ashamed.” Yes, indeed.

MERCY AMONG THE CHILDREN by David Adams Richards

What is it about Canada that produces such terrific writers? Is it the educational system? The generous social services? The cold? Whatever the reason, Richards can be added to the list of fine Canadian writers. Mercy Among the Children is part Dickens and part Hardy with a liberal dose of the Bible thrown in for good measure. Set in Canada and spanning about fifty years, the story centers on Sydney Henderson, who makes a pact with God. If God will allow Sydney’s friend Connie to live (Sydney pushed Connie off a roof), then Sydney will never “harm another person.” Sydney does keep his vow, but the cost is terrible, and even though he is admirable, he comes to seem like a doomed, holy fool. Sydney’s son Lyle, enraged by his father’s choices, takes an entirely different course but, in the end, is just as doomed as his father. Richards gives us a portrait of rural New Brunswick as a hard place that produces hard people. Yet Richards has great sympathy for the suffering of his characters, even when they are at their worst, and this sympathy brings a generosity to this grim, unforgettable novel. 

 

5 1/2" x 5" 2008 Wolf Moon Calendar just $10.00 each
More Info

More Info

© Wolf Moon Press 2002-2008 all rights reserved.

Submission Guidelines