Meursault, a frenchman living in Algeria (poor guy) lives a normal life. His mother died (does it mather?), he started dating Marie (don't speak of love) and he helped his "friend" Raymond when some Arabs wanted to attack him. He is a complete stranger to others, you don't know what he feels. All you know: he hates hot and sunny places and doesn't understand what he can't smell, touch or eat. Then he kills and is sent to prison. There he finally understands lifes meaning, the absurdity, what it all ment. Is it too late?
I was agreably surprised when I read this book. Usually, what we read in French Litterature is horrible (like Zola, Maupassant, ...) but this was quite nice, perhaps a little boring at times. The story is short and you read it very fast. The characters are quite sympatic, even if Meursault is a little strange.
It's really easy to analyse after you've understood how it works. I got the best marks when I analysed it at school. It's funny to read it after you've analysed it, because the story is much more deeper. It's a fine base for a philosophical debate on the absurdity of life and Camus has got some interessing ideas.
You should really read it in French like I did, it's a lot better and the traslation is sometimes weird.
If you're a teacher and want your class to read something more enjoyable than Zola, choose this book. Some can enjoy it (not me).

This is the haunting story of a young man mindlessly going through life. He seems neither happy nor sad, just pleased to live another day. The protaganist, Meursault, goes about his everyday life in a kind of haze. Even when his Mother dies, he simply accepts it. All the characters around him have a purpose and he drifts along with them until one day he finds himself killing a man.

Even as he sits in prison, he lives a life of happenstance, to him all life leads toward death it doesn't matter whether the journey is long or short, it all ends the same so why not make the best of each day. Simplistic as this seems, the writer, Albert Camus, pulls you into the mind of such an ordinary man in an extraordinary and absurd situation.

This is by far, the best novel I have ever read and it's only 123 pages.

The Stranger was the first novel of Camus' labeled "absurd," and it defines Camus for most Americans. The plot is quite simple, with none of the diversions common in popular literature. The main character is not a hero, has no "true" love affair and the pursuit of money and power never enters the story. The Stranger is an honest atheist, waiting for life to happen.

The title l'Etranger, has been poorly translated. The U.S. title, The Stranger, implies that the main character, Meursault, has been viewed as a "strange" or "odd" person for some time. The other possible meaning is that no one knows him. Meursault is a stranger even to those who think they know him. These definitions do not seem adequate. The U.K. title, The Outsider, only serves to confuse readers even more.

Meursault is the archetype of a middle-class man. He works as a clerk, rents an apartment and draws no attention to himself. He is, if anything, very ordinary. Meusault might even be boring. He lacks deep convictions and passion. If he is estranged from any aspect of French society, it is religion--he does not believe in the symbols and the rituals of faith.

Estranged? "Cela m'est égal."

Along with the title, Camus took care in naming the main character. Meursault's name is symbolic of the Mediteranean sea. Mer mean "sea" and soliel is French for "sun." The sea and the sun meet at the beach, where Meursault's defining actions occur.

Meusault is an anti-hero. His only redeeming quality is his honesty, no matter how absurd. In existential terms, he is "authentic" to himself. Meusault does not believe in God, but he cannot lie because he is true to himself. This inability to falsify empathy ultimately condemns him. Meursault has faith only in what he, himself, can see or experience with his other senses. He is not a philosopher, a theologian or a deep thinker. Meursault exists as he is, not trying to be anything more or less than himself.

Why did Camus' readers recognize Meursault as a plausible character? After two World Wars and much suffering, many people came to live life much as Meursault does. Or at least they tried to do so. These people lost the will to do more than exist. There was no hope and no desire. The only goal for many people was simple survival. Even then, the survival seemed empty and hollow. We learn how empty Meursault's existence is through his relationships. He is not close to his mother; we learn he does not cry at her funeral. He does not seem close to his lover, Marie Cardona. Of her, Meursault states, "To me, she was only Marie." There is no passion is Meursault's words or in his life.

What sets Camus apart from many existentialists and modern philosophers in general is his acceptance of contradiction. Yes, Camus wrote, life is absurd and death renders life meaningless--for the individual. But mankind and its societies are larger than any one individual person.

Initially, I expected more from a book with the quote "Sidesplitting" prominently displayed on the back cover. After the initial few pages, I found myself wondering why I had spent good money to read about Sedaris' youthful obsessive-compulsive behavior ,and set the book aside.

I picked it back up a few days later, and tried again. Apparently, that first exposure served as an innoculation of some sort, because I was able to finish the book and enjoyed much of it. However, I found only one true belly laugh in the whole thing and precious few grins.

Instead, I found some very good storytelling, and was at times reminded of the writings of another NPR staple, Garrison Keillor, whose "Lake Woebegone" people (the town itself may be fictional, but the events seem to come from Keillor's personal memory) are also more or less disfunctional, but described with a similar combination of disdain and affection.

So, _Naked_ didn't live up to the cover blurbs, but I still found it an interesting read. I haven't finished _Me Talk Pretty Some Day_, however. Perhaps the innoculation has worn off.

I first heard of Sedaris through his reading of "True Detective" on NPR (fudge-colored towels). I actually sat in my parked car at the grocery store to hear the whole thing. I didn't realise the reading was from an entire collection so I was delighted to stumble across Naked a few months later. I am eagerly awaiting the audio version from the library. Until then, I am half-way through the book. Last night my husband and I were reduced to tears and painful belly laughs as I read aloud from "Cyclops". This morning as we were on our way to his work, I read aloud from "I Like Guys". I am two-thirds of the way through the book and thus far I prefer the earlier entries involving Sedaris' childhood over the latter entries involving his travels and odd-jobs. Yet even those are engrossing and entertaining. Had I been Sedaris' editor I would have left out "Dix Hill" and "Incomplete Quad" neither of which has added anything to the collection. Rather, I found myself skimming quickly, impatient for the next entry. For those who think Sedaris' tales are implausable just think of the last time you rode public transportation. I recently had a Girl Friday sort of job that was fraught with just the sort of experiences that would make an unbelievable story had I the inclination or the talent to record them. The kid who I pawned the job off on took notes. For any of you have ever had the inward thought, "What are all these incompetents doing on the set of MY movie?" this book is for you.

Never having read Sedaris before Naked, I was unprepared. Sitting on the Third Avenue bus going uptown, maybe two pages into the first story, A Plague of Tics, I burst out laughing. People don't laugh out loud on NYC buses unless they're with a group of friends. I looked around guiltily, tried to get that stupid grin off my face, and continued to read. It was a lost cause. I continued giggling the whole ride up.

The first essay is the funniest, but they are all good. Get Your Ya-Ya's Out was fabulous. Naked wonderful. There are a couple of amazing ones, the names of which I can't remember - one dealing with he and his sisters finding an old dirty book, which is hysterical, and another about his mother dying of cancer which is pretty brutal and actually made me all misty-eyed.

This is my favorite of the Sedaris books. They're all good, but to my mind, none can hold a candle to Naked.

One tip for reading - don't do what I did and read the book thru in a day. Read one story and put the book down. Pick it up a couple days later and read another. You will enjoy it so much more that way. Treat them like very expensive bon-bons from a fancy chocolate shop.

Mr. Perfect is quite a departure from Ms. Howard's earlier books such as Kiss & Tell, Now You See Her, etc. - and for me, a huge improvement. While it still is technically a romantic mystery, her flair for comedy is wonderful!

The story revolves around The List, created by 4 female co-workers about what constitutes The Perfect Guy. Somehow the list falls into the wrong hands and spreads like wildfire on email and the Internet - the 4 ladies even find themselves being interviewed on TV by Good Morning America. All harmless fun - until one of the 4 women is murdered.

The main character, Jaine Bright (one of the infamous 4, of couse) lives next door to a police detective, Sam Donovan. Soon they are trying to find out who the killer is and keep Jaine from becoming the next victim. While the story is lightweight, the sharp and witty dialogue and deftly drawn characters and relationships are what held my interest. Jaine and Sam's burgeoning romance is laugh out loud funny and I found them immensely likeable characters. I only hope Ms. Howard's next book, Open Season, follows this latest trend.

Linda Howard has created a masterpiece in her new novel, Mr. Perfect. You might as well plan on kicking back with uninterrupted time to read this book straight through. The characters are wonderful, the dialogue sizzles, and the sex is hot!

Jaine Bright and her three friends from work meet every Friday night for drinks, dinner, and girl talk, which we all know from experience usually turns into man bashing. During the course of dinner, they start discussing the perfect man and list the characteristics they think Mr. Perfect should have. As you can imagine, the list starts out seriously, then ends up discussing phyiscal endowments. Their list inadvertently becomes public knowledge. First in the company's newsletter, then on a website, and finally the media gets hold of it. At first the women try to keep their identity secret so no one will know who is behind "The List" as it has become known. When their coworkers figure out who is behind "The List", their lives become chaotic--women applaud them, men feel threatened. They decide to go public hoping all the media blitz will dies down. Little do they know they have offended someone who takes a murderous view of Mr. Perfect.

The dialogue and sexual tension in this book between Jaine and her neighbor, Sam Donovan, is unbelievable. The snappy one liners had me cracking up throughout the entire book. Both Jaine and Sam are strong characters who strike sparks off each other. The bond between the four women will touch your heart.

The beginning of this book threw me off when I started reading it. The opening prologue is eeries and gave me the creeps. Then with the first chapter, it's almost like you're reading a comedy for the first half of the book--then the suspense starts in the second half. I don't know how Ms. Howard managed to combine comedy and suspense, but believe me, she did a fantastic job of it.

I seriously enjoyed this book from LH. I rarely laugh out loud while reading a book but this one caught me by surprise. The interaction between Sam and Jaine is hilarious, sexy, and passionate. There are a couple of scenes in the book involving Jaine's Dodge Viper and Sam's metal trashcan that are great!---I have friends remind me of these two with their smartmouth remarks and witty verbal exchanges!!

Jaine moves into a quiet neighborhood. She has a normal job and a normal life. She and 3 other friends gather weekly at Ernie's for happy hour and dinner. In one night of intoxication, these 4 women create a list of characteristics that make up the Perfect Man. This list creates lots of attention and commentary. THE LIST leads these 4 women into trouble with coworkers, friends and family, including a stalker...it also leads Jaine into meeting Sam (her grubby nextdoor neighbor who she initially thinks is a drunken reprobate -- not an undercover cop)...the witty exchanges and steamy sex kept me glued to this book.

Jaine is a very strong female character and I'm glad to see the heroine isn't some swooning wimp! I like Linda's style of characters -- I happen to like Alpha Wolf Males -- I wouldn't read romance novels if I wanted to read about a wimpy nerd...

The book has some suspense and granted it wasn't really tough to figure out the mystery, but please read the book for its quirky humor and character interaction!!!! You will like it! It's definitely another winner from Ms. Howard.

To start off, I must say one thing: Wow. Simply put, Desperation is one of the best books that Stephen King has ever graced his readers with. A lot of people, even people that like Stephen King more than just a little, might be discouraged by the size of the book, but they really shouldn't be. I finished the book in three days. King grabs you in the very beginning, dragging you through until he's done. It's great that he doesn't come out and reveal anything about the history of the small mining town of Desperation until he absolutely has to, and when he does, he simply slaps you in the face with it. Readers should be aware (especially those not familiar with King's writing style) that the bad situation he begins the book with continues to decline. It's not a happily ever after story, and I really don't think that anyone below sixteen should read it. Aside from the custom blood, guts, gore, and sex thing, King also drags a good bit of...questionable theology into the plot. Nevertheless, a great book, well worth reading.

I began this book on February 24 and finished it on March 1 (yes, one week). I have only read two other Stephen King books: The Green Mile and Cycle of the Werewolf. I gave both of them a "Good, but..." review. Then I read Desperation, and was amazed. It sounded pretty boring at first, but as I kept on reading, I didn't want to stop. Before I knew it, I was done with it. Now right after I read a book or see a movie, I like it or hate it. But as time passes, I realize how much I like (or hate) it. So I waited a week or so, and I realized how much I loved it. The characters are so well introduced, and the hatred that builds inside you for the antagonist is incredible. Now I am extremely afraid to go to any western state. I swear, if I see so much as a vulture, a coyote, a spider, or a mine, I will freak out and run for my dear life. I guarantee to anyone who reads this book: you will like it. If you don't, you seriously need to get a life. Tak!

Two words: Scary book. I now doubt if I'll ever pass through the state of Nevada, and I will certainly start shaking the next time I see a cop like Entragian. This is my third King book (after The Stand and The Regulators), and I must say that I'm highly impressed! This book started off seemingly predictable, but it only took a chapter or so before Peter and Mary Jackson's fears of the local law from Desperation, Nevada started becoming chillingly real. Next, meet the Carver family, your average all-American gang. They too get swept up by Desperation's evil, and soon you will too. To put this book down before finishing it will give you a serious case of insomnia. Get ready everybody, this one's going to be a New Line movie, and I can't wait! As a final point, I'll quote Collie himself: " I'll tell you one thing, Carvers: when you've got a nutty cop on your hands, you've got a situation." He's not kidding!

New York City, 1896. A serial killer is on the loose, gruesomely preying upon cross-dressing boy prostitutes. Police detectives are making no progress solving the ghastly crimes. In fact, someone with power or influence seems to be bent on silencing witnesses and thwarting any investigation. Reform-minded police commissioner Theodore Roosevelt (yes, the same TR who later became president), determined to catch the killer, assembles an unconventional group of investigators headed by "alienist" Dr. Lazlo Kreizler. (In the 19th century, when psychology was in its infancy, the mentally ill were considered "alienated" from themselves and society, and the experts who treated them were known as "alienists.")

Dr. Kreizler's team includes his former Harvard classmate, New York Times crime reporter John Moore; Moore's longtime friend, spitfire heiress-turned-NYPD-secretary Sara Hamilton; and two former mental patients who now work as his servants.

To help identify the killer--who leaves behind very few clues, manages to spirit his victims out of locked rooms, and passes through the city unnoticed--the team attempts to develop a psychological profile of the type of person who would be capable of such horrendous deeds. The novelty of their approach does not win them any fans from the mental-health establishment or most NYPD detectives, and throughout the novel, they attempt to keep their involvement secret.

Author Caleb Carr puts his historical background to fascinating use. "The Alienist" is filled with rich details about both the seamier underside and more privileged parts of late-19th-century New York City and the then-novel crime detection techniques. Detectives Lucius and Marcus Isaacson, assigned to assist the investigation, employ the not-yet-accepted science of fingerprinting and other methods of identification in their hunt for the killer.

"The Alienist" is one of the few murder mysteries that I have ever enjoyed reading a second time. The characters are memorable, dryly amusing at times, and always fascinating. Carr portrays his victims as humans and individuals, rather than sensationalizing their professions. The plot, including a race against time once the team predicts when the killer is likely to strike again, moves along at a brisk pace. The historical detail advances the plot rather than bogging it down.

Lovers of historical fiction and detective mysteries will find a treat in "The Alienist."

This is, without a doubt, the best book I have ever read... with The Angel of Darkness in a close second! It's a period piece, a murder mystery, and a psychological thriller, as well as much more, all in one book, and can appeal to many people. The book centres around three characters; the mysterious, brilliant Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, who holds the book's title as "the alienist"(in the 19th century, those who treated the mentally ill were referred to as alienists because they dealt with alienated people); the cynical, self-righteous, but at the same time quite amusing John Schuyler Moore, who is a journalist for the New York Times; and Theodore Roosevelt, shown here as commissioner of the New York police department. However, I would not call Theodore Roosevelt as main a character as some make him out to be. He takes a large leave of absence throughout the most crucial parts of the novel, only to be seen at the beginning and the end. Sara Howard and the Detective Sergeants Isaacson, who work at the police department, are much more prominent characters. The story begins with the brutal murder of a child prostitute, for which all of the said characters assemble to solve. The plot twists and turns, as the characters scramble to first solve the mystery of the killer's mind, then the mystery of his identity, and finally the mystery of his whereabouts. The historical detail is amazing; 19th Century New York came so alive in this novel that I could almost touch it. A lot of research went into the writing of this book, and it pays off with vivid descriptions of the time, as well as of the non-fictional characters. All of the characters are very well-developed, but are mostly very dark, as one reviewer put it. The characters that are most developed are Dr. Kreizler, John Moore, and Sara Howard; all of whom have troubled pasts and are outcasts in their own ways. The comic relief comes mostly from the Detective Sergeants, with their idiosyncratic ways of going about things, but even they are a bit dark. In my opinion, this just makes the story all the more intriguing, but some may find it a bit too sullen. Perhaps the most interesting part of this novel, however, is the exploration of the criminal mind. We have a group of people who, unlike ordinary detectives, want to understand the killer even more than they want to catch him. We hear unfailing psychological insight from Dr. Kreizler, and although his long, passionate monologues can get a little irritating once and a while, they are very fascinating. I can't really mention any flaws that I found in the novel because all of them are completely subjective. For example, I read that one person found the "melodramatic moments" in the story to be a flaw, but I thought they just gave the book more depth. On the other hand, I think the description of the murdered bodies could have been less detailed, but if that's what you like, then that's what you like! There were hardly any objective flaws. All in all, this is a wonderful book, and very well written. Caleb Carr has a way of sucking you in, so that you just can't stop turning the pages. I highly recommend it. I also highly recommend "The Angel of Darkness," but not if you liked "The Alienist" because it was a thriller; the sequel doesn't have half as much mystery or gore, but more character development, psychological and historical detail, and courtroom drama. A great read!!

If you want to read a historical mystery that you can't put down, look no further than The Alienist! Set in New York in 1896, Caleb Carr transports the reader to the smells and sights of that period. The reader is whisked away to dine at Delmonico's, sit in box seats at the Opera, and learn about Theodore Roosevelt's efforts to reform the NYC police department.

The Alienist focuses on Dr. Leo Kreiszler and John Schuyler Moore, who Roosevelt calls in to investigate a serial killer who is targeting boy prostitutes. The three men join to put together a top-notch and thoroughly modern investigative team (including one of the first women allowed to work at the Department) to delve into the crimes with a combination of psychological profiling and novel techniques like finger-printing and crime-scene analysis. What I found most fascinating was the insights Carr provides into the formation of criminal science techniques that we now take for granted.

Carr is a gifted writer with the ability to transport you to another time and place within pages. In addition, he knows how to write a good detective thriller. This one of the finest historical mysteries I've ever read and I highly recommend it.

I read a lot of non-fiction and was looking for something lighter. In that respect, "Girl with a Pearl Earring" delivers. It is an extremely quick read - I read it in short stretches over 2-3 days - and it certainly doesn't require your brain to do any heavy lifting.

While this was sort of what I wanted, I wound up disappointed that I didn't get more out of this book. In the end, the concept - historical fiction inspired by the Vermeer painting - is better than the finished product. Although I liked the idea of telling the story from Griet's point of view, I felt like something was missing. Perhaps this was by design. Maybe the author intentionally held back and chose not to delve deeper into the world she invented. I personally would have preferred more rather than less.

That being said, this is an enjoyable, albeit lightweight, diversion. I agree with other reviewers that "Girl with a Pearl Earring" would fit well in the "Young Adult" section.

Historical fiction is at its best in Tracy Chevalier's novel Girl with a Pearl Earring. Although, the title itself does not disclose much in regards to the complexity of the plot; within the first fifteen pages of the book it is clear that the story's core is a fascinating blend of mystery, desire, and distrust.
These elements captivate readers just as Griet's peculiar vegetable artistry is able to entrance Vermeer in their initial meeting. After witnessing Griet's appreciation of color and her attention to fine details, Vermeer hires this 16-year-old girl to be a maid in his household. Griet must leave everything she knows: her caring mother, strong father, younger sister, her modest home, and even her Protestant neighborhood. However, the change is a matter of necessity; her family needs the income. Ever since Griet's father lost his sight in an accident at the tiling factory, money has been scarce. In the 17th century, the only viable option remaining was to rely upon a capable child.
Griet enters into the Vermeer household and learns the ropes quickly. Tanneke, a cantankerous maid who has been with the family for years, guides her. Griet is assigned the most tedious and disliked chores. However, one such daily task enables Griet to meet a young man who expresses special interest in her, even if Griet's feelings for him aren't always as clear.
A second challenge exists among Griet's relationship with the numerous family members residing in the house itself. Johannes Vermeer's wife, Catherina, is leery of Griet from the very beginning and her feelings of insecurity only intensify as time passes. Maria Thins, the domineering elderly relative, speaks harshly to Griet one minute and allies her in the next. Cornelia, one of the middle children, acts upon an inborn wild streak and succeeds in stirring up trouble on a daily basis. Thankfully, the other five children are relatively well mannered.
Lastly, but most importantly, there is the relationship between Vermeer himself and Griet. Vermeer is perfectly systematic as a painter, but completely unpredictable in all other aspects of his life. This characteristic leaves Griet with many questions. She feels the need to walk on eggshells whenever she is in his presence. One day, while cleaning Vermeer's workroom Griet is disturbed by the sense that something essential is missing in Vermeer's painting-in-progress. Boldly, she rearranges the folds of the blue cloth portrayed in the painting. When Vermeer inquires about the unapproved change, Griet replies, "There needs to be some disorder in the scene, to contrast with her tranquility. Something to tease the eye. And yet it must be something pleasing to the eye as well, and it is, because the cloth and her arm are in a similar position." This response is tremendously gutsy for Griet. After all, her role in the home is supposed to be that of a maid, not an assistant to the acclaimed artist. Nevertheless, within months this is precisely the role Vermeer secretly promotes Griet to. The more time Vermeer and Griet spend working together the more complicated their relationship becomes and consequently household tension escalates exponentially.
Reading this book is bound to spark your curiosity in Vermeer and you'll feel compelled to learn more about his actual life. This is true even for those who typically show no interest in art history; honestly, the book is that good! Tracy Chevalier has created a novel which infuses accurate details with a page-turning fictional plot.
Even after much searching and hypothesizing, nobody has been able to positively identify who the "Girl with the Pearl Earring" was, but reading this novel makes it difficult to believe she was anyone other than Griet, the young maid who left her mark on society.

I didn't know much about Jan Vermeer, except that he was a Dutch painter. Based on Vermeer's painting "The Girl With a Pearl Earring", the book is a fictional first hand account of that girl, who the author invents as a maid turned muse in the Vermeer household. There are enough facts to stir up interest, for me at least, in the works and life of the painter. The story told by the maid, Griet, speaks of the 1600's where Catholicism was suspect, the plague caused many deaths,and food was scarce. You also glimpse the technology of the times; the camera obscura, the boats with swolen holds in the harbor, the mixing of herbs at home for medicine, and the use of various plants and bones to make paint. I think that Chevalier was inspired by Vermeer's use of light and shadow, and has researched this period, plus whatever scant personal information exists about the artist,and has written a beautiful, insightful, well thought out book. It is as rich in color and light as the painter's work. I loved "Galileo's Daughter", for much the same reasons as I love this book. When I think of the 1600's, I have a hazy view of that period of great artisans, a crippling lack of technology, cold and damp houses. I am always delighted to read about micro perspectives of that time that deliver me from this sort of hazy macro collage I have of the past.

The companion novel to "Little Altars Everywhere" (for the love of God, read that one FIRST!), "The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" is like a beautiful patchwork quilt of good and bad memories from the great experience of Life.

Rebecca Wells sets up her novel by having Siddalee Walker from "Little Altars Everywhere," now middle-aged and a force in the theatre scene, dealing with her estrangement from her mother, Vivi, over an interview given to the New York Times, and cold feet over her ever-postponed marriage to her loyal fiance (wouldn't we all love to have a lover like Connor!). Escaping to the Olympic Peninsula to sort out direction for her next stage production (and her personal life), Sidda delves into her mother's past with the help of an album, searching for answers and resolution. As she does so, we are introduced to a wonderful cast of characters, the Ya-Yas, her mother's lifelong friends.

Overall, I really enjoyed this book. The Ya-Yas' antics reminded me a lot of my llama sister and me, and Wells does an outstanding job of making you empathize with Vivi. There are parts that were really painful to read. On the flip side, I found the novel's end to be a little bit too neat and abrupt, and I didn't find the adult Sidda to be a very likeable character. She seemed indecisive and whiny. Of course, I haven't been 40 yet...maybe when I'm 40 and have some more life experiences under my belt, I'll reread the book and change my mind about Siddalee.

Bottom line: You have to read this book...but read "Little Altars Everywhere" first!

I'll skip the summarization of the plot since all of the reviews here do a great job of telling you what this book is all about. Let me get straight to the point: this is a wonderfully hilarious, heartbreaking novel with memorable characters, beautiful, witty dialogue, and downright fantastic story telling.

I don't normally read this kind of book; I lean more toward thrillers and horror novels. I must admit, I got caught up in all the Ya-Ya frenzy surrounding the release of the film. Out of curiosity, I picked up Divine Secrets and didn't put it down until I devoured each and every word. These characters have such depth, and I found myself longing for an eccentric hat, a Bloody Mary, a cigarette, and a gaggle of close friends! I could almost feel the sultry heat of Louisiana and smell all the wonderful smells of the south: fried catfish, flowers everywhere, smoky barbeque, lake water. Wells manages to use a simple narrative writing style while painting incredibly vivid mind pictures.

This is a powerful story about a middle-aged woman trying to come to grips with her all-consuming, ever-present mother. These humanly flawed characters have depth and personality. I truly wanted to know what happened to each one. It's so easy to forget that our mothers had and have lives separate from us, and Siddalee gets the chance of a lifetime: to begin to know her mother as a girl and young woman.

I know I'm gushing on and on about this novel, but it really struck a chord with me. I want more of the Ya-Yas! If you think you can get the full feel of the novel by going to see the film, think again. There are so many things that the film omits, and it can never capture the senses the way this book does (although the film isn't bad). If you like good story telling, and if you don't mind a whirlwind of emotions when you read, then grab this one right now.

I found this book stirring. Vivi gives a wonderful representation of those days of early parenting when the babies are small. I could completely relate to being covered with baby mess, being angry at having to get up at all hours of the night, and only wanting to escape. Vivi's fear of telling her sisters about how the children make her feel is real. I was impressed with how the author depicted the depression experienced by some women who are not the perfect mom. A good read on this subject is The Mask of Motherhood: How becomming a mother changes everything and why we pretend it doesn't by Susan Maushart.

I can also relate to the deep wounds caused by child abuse and the adult tension that is created between mother and child. Looking at the lives of our parents and what molded them can be helpful in understanding their behavior. Then again sometimes you just have to look past their moments of darkness and remember the loving moments to find peace. I liked the way suspence was built by getting little snippets of information as the author moved back and forth between Sidda's perspective and that of Vivi, both of them moving easily into the past and present.

I really liked the mix of the Blessed Virgin Mary and pagan dancing under the moon. The thread of spirituality that wove itself through the entire book was uplifting.

I have been a fan of Steve Martin from the stand-up/SNL days until now when he's begun a career as a "serious" writer. In a sense, he's grown-up as I've grown-up and his current taste for more intellectual humor has matched my own. His play, Picasso at the Lapin Agile, is one of the most enjoyable I've seen in awhile and is collected in book form with some shorter plays that are also quite good. Additionally, his pieces in the New Yorker have been wonderful.

This novella does not quite reach the heights of some of his other work, though it is an enjoyable read. It has its wry comic moments but this is a much more straightforward work than I've seen from him before. It is really a character study; mainly of the clinically depressed "shopgirl," Mirabelle but also of a number of other characters--boyfriends Ray & Jeremy, co-worker Lisa, and her parents.

The plot is real and relevant enough, exploring the psyches and relationships of these characters. It suffers from the weakness of many an ambitious novella, however. It introduces intriguing points and doesn't take the time to flesh them out and resolve them. Her father's Vietnam experience and its repercussions, for example, is tossed out and left unexplored. More importantly, however, the story is rushed to its conclusion. The early relationship points are explored and then rushed to their finality. There is a lot more that could have been done with this book.

Perhaps I would have been happier with this piece if I'd read it in a magazine. When I pay money for a book, however, I guess I want more of my money's worth. I'm tired of short works being put in hardcover when they don't qualify. This is a trend in modern fiction that is not to be encouraged. Novels are getting shorter and more superficial. It takes a brilliant writer to write a short novel of enough depth to deserve the hardback treatment. I don't think this one is quite there. Wait for it in paperback (and hope the paperback is relatively cheap).

As 'novellas' seem the be the flavor of the month in book authorship, Steve Martin has stepped up to the plate and produced a quietly, sweet, poignant, sometimes funny little novel. Mirabelle, a shopgirl who suffers from depression (for which she needs medication) and who sells the "things that nobody buys" (gloves in a department store in LA) is floating along just at the surface of 'is this all there is?", when she captures the heart (ok, at first, the libido) of Ray, the weathy divorced businessman.

Secondary characters in our little venture into the twisted world of relationships include Lisa, another shopgirl of decidedly different perceptions of what a woman's body is 'really' meant for (running, or was that ruining, men's lives), and Jeremy who starts out as a slouch who considers meeting Mirabelle at the laundromat a 'date. While the potential to ride quickly into the despairs of relationships that are destined not to work might have been present, there is nothing despairing about this novella. It is a tenderly written, even somewhat humorous series of accounts of the dates, meetings and interactions by Mirabelle, Ray and their supporting cast. Humorous? There is a scene toward the end in which Lisa mistakes Jeremy for Ray - it is worth the price of the book.

As time moves along, Mirabelle grows and changes. So, oddly at first, does Jeremy (whose impetus to suddenly make a decision about where his life is going is not based on any particular incident, unlike Mirabelle's whose impetus is). The reader doesn't love Mirabelle, necessarily, but we are happy for her as the book comes to its close and she comes to her closure. For a novella it is a real gem, it would have been a crummy full length book and an ineffective short story. Steve Martin is not just one of America's very best comedians, but he has another incredibl set of creative neurons firing away (read him in the New Yorker some time), all the better for his fans.

This 130-page novella by Steve Martin is a small slice of life. The shopgirl is 28-year old Mirabelle, who sells gloves at Neiman Marcus. She's looking for love but can't make a meaningful connection in vacuous Los Angeles. Her relationships just don't click until she meets Roy Porter, a millionaire in his 50s. He's looking for love too, but just not with Mirabelle. The writer has an excellent understanding of human nature and has the ability to clearly explain that what the characters say is usually not what they mean. I felt I knew them all, including Mirabelle's co-worker, Lisa, who uses her feminine charms as a weapon. Once I started reading, I couldn't put the book down. It's well written and the plot moved quickly, drawing me into the author's world. I found myself identifying with Mirabelle and was pleased with the satisfying ending.

Anna Quindlen's novel Black and Blue is one of the most provocative and compelling stories I have ever read on the topic of spousal/domestic abuse. In simple and direct language, Ms. Quindlen's protagonist, Fran Benedetto, becomes a real, complex person. I was taken with Ms. Quindlen's ability to convey to us, the readers, the pain and inner turmoil of a wife and mother who fears for her life on a daily basis. In many ways, I found I could relate to Fran's constant battle with shadows jumping at her from all corners of her new home in Florida, where she flees after leaving her abusive husband. Her fear is real and it keeps her senses sharp, for herself as well as for her son. I did not condemn Fran for still having some attraction/love for her estranged husband. If anything I feel it made Fran seem even more human, more real to Quindlen's reading public. I would recommend this book to anyone who wishes to understand the deeply disturbing and complicated reasons why women stay...

What a fantastic book! From the moment I started to the very ending I did not put it down. Anna Quindlen weaves a complex tale of an abused woman on the run with child from her abusive husband. The plot starts with her escape and proceeds to show us the beginning of a new life for her provided by an agency that helps out women such as herself. The main character Fran/Beth is sympathetic mainly because she seems to be a real human being with flaws just like the rest of us. Her frustration in building the new life and worrying about her son really hits home. I admire the fact that Ms. Quindlen did not sugar coat any aspect of the book and gave us a realistic view as to what it would be in a relationship so horrific as well as the impact it could have for all involved. Definitely recommended if you have a few hours to spare - this book cannot be read in stages for it is impossible to put down.

[Warning: a review below by "Drea248" unwittingly divulges a crucial element in the story line. Though a positive review, if you plan on reading this book, avoid the review.]

Anna Quindlan's latest work of fiction "Black and Blue" has the potential to do what few so called "women's books" are able to accomplish, have an intrinsic appeal which serves both genders. This is a story with the ability to be accessible on many levels and that is one of its strengths.

This is a book about women, about children, about men, about the building up and breaking down of relationships, about strength and weakness, about truth, about secrets, about courage, and about trust. It is enlightening, entertaining, and exciting; once started it will be difficult to put down. This is not an easy book to read or forget.

The issues raised, some resolved some not, remind us of the frailties and shortcomings we experience in our own lives. Hopefully the main topic is one with which many are personally unfamiliar. The description of the effort involved to achieve escape velocity from the gravitational pull of an old life is simultaneously interesting and frightening. But can you really escape?

This is the focal point of the story. The day-to-day events of the principal characters as they establish their new lives is beautifully and touchingly developed in every way, you almost forget how the main characters arrived where they are. Present experiences are cleverly woven with past memories throughout the narrative. However, this is a story that also has all of the underlying tension and menace of a good suspense novel, neither of which are ever very far from the surface.

Plainsong, a book by Kent Haruf, is a book that describes the lives of some of the residents in Holt, Colorado. Different plots deal with various issues of life, death, and a community that connects together. A tale of Tom Guthrie, who is a history teacher at the area high school. He is left to raise his two "twin-like" sons, Ike and Bobby, after his wife abandons him and their family. Victoria, a 17 year-old high school senior, is thrown out of her house by her crude and bitter mother after she had learned that her daughter is pregnant. The McPheron Brothers, lonely, sheltered, and isolated from the rest of the world, are a couple of aged bachelors, and all they know are themselves and life on their ranch. When they were fourteen years old, they were left to live on their own after their parents died. They have missed out on important and "normal" things in their life after choosing to stay with each other and to not get married. Ken Haruf interweaves the lives of these characters beautifully through the character of Maggie Jones. She is the most "flawless" character of the bunch, because she is compassionate, generous, and beautiful. Not to mention, the responsible party for helping and improving their outlook on their lives.
This book started slowly at first but once it started to pick up, I couldn't put it down. I constantly found myself wondering what was going to happen next with each character. Ken Haruf also does a wonderful job making the reader feel what the characters are feeling. He also painted a vivid mental image of the setting which helped me visualize Holt, Colorado. This is a warm, heart-felt story in which Haruf reminds us that in hard times, people come together to mend each others hearts.

A very economically-written, precisely-edited story about human kindness found in unlikely places. Haruf's Colorado community is the quintessential small town, where everybody knows not only your name, but your business--or thinks they do. It is hard-working, undemonstrative, and--this is the meat of this book--it takes care of its own with quiet concern and a minimum of fanfare.

Haruf's characters carry the story, mostly through dialogue and description; there is very little introspection. It works: my heart ached for his protagonists, a quietly righteous teacher, his two young sons, his estranged, depressive wife; a pregnant highschool girl whose mother kicks her out of the house; two wryly hilarious old farmers who perform an unlikely act of mercy. Even the villians--the parents of a surly, lost teenaged boy and the kid himself--are human and recognizable archtypes who might well live next door. Bit-players, minor actors--although they might have spent little time in print, these too were fully fleshed and caught in as few words as possible.

The writer's approach reminds me of Larry Brown's--the tightness of the editing, the simplicity of the imagery. Amazing, too, the mood he sets by not using quote marks; I kept asking myself how it would have changed the book to do so. An interesting stylistic gesture, but one that made a subtle but profound mark on the way I read the story.

Every now and then, there comes an author keenly attuned to the rhythms of our speech, the conflicts of our hearts and the values which motivate our actions. Kent Haruf's spellbinding "Plainsong" so deftly recreates the atmosphere of a small, isolated, rural American town and populates that community with such compelling, conflicted and endearing characters that the reader simply cannot put his novel down. As did Steinbeck before him (and as do such gifted contemporaries as Kaye Gibbons and Ivan Doig), Mr. Haruf truly believes common, everyday Americans have much to say about what defines the national character. There is such dignity and decency in this book, shown against backdrops of cruelty, isolation and loneliness. Perhaps that is one reason I found myself humbled, by book's end, in reading it. This is a book to cherish and to share and will become one of the most memorable reading experiences in your life.

This profoundly important work will remind readers what the purpose of literature is: to inform us, through the action of an absorbing narrative, that humans serve a distinctive purpose, and that purpose, though obscured by personal anguish, desperate lonelines and unfair circumstances, is to understand, assist and grow to love each other. Each of the seven central characters, who evolve into their own community, seems driven to comprehend and act on the central premise of human frailty and interdependence. Thus, whether it be a father coping with the fragility of his sons' emotional health in light of their mother's evolving emotional and physical removal from life or a quietly resolute teacher searching for solutions to a teen's unexpected pregnancy or two old bachelor brothers awakening to the confusing, liberating possibilities of life, Mr. Haruf invests them with uncommon purpose and promise.

Thomas Jefferson once said that our nation possesses "hope enough and to spare." Reading this triumphant novel, a reader will find renewal in the belief that our national purpose -- built on a sense of optimism and hope -- continues to live and to thrive in the hearts and minds of our most uncommom common people.