and how do we judge a man?

The Collected Poetry of Nikki Giovanni by Nikki Giovanni

Almost exactly 20 years ago, I sat in my college mentor's office whining about how much I hated my 20th Century American Literature class.  Everything is so depressing, I said.  So hopeless, so nihilistic, and I hate the way these authors write.  Dr. C. took a small, slim volume off one of her shelves, put it in my hands, and said "I think this is what you need."

The book was Those Who Ride the Night Winds, and it started a love for Giovanni's poetry that has lasted for two decades.  She is not only my favorite poet; I daresay that if she didn't exist, I wouldn't even have a favorite poet.

There are two things I love about her poetry.  The first is the universality and deep emotion of her poems. Although a lot of her writing is clearly from the perspective of an African American woman who came of age in the early 60s, and I will admit that some of her earlier, more militant poetry makes me uncomfortable, it is a good kind of uncomfortable. It's the kind of uncomfortable that any human being should feel when reading about injustice.  And at its heart, all of her poetry is about relationships.  Relationships between men and women, between friends and rivals, Blacks and Whites, a person and herself, a person and the people she admires.

The other thing I love is her skill at taking emotions and experiences we've all had and distilling them to their purest essence.  One of my favorite lines from Hemingway (from one of his worst books) is, "You have to know how complicated it is, and then write it simply." Of this, Giovanni is a master.

Nothing I write can possibly do her justice, so I encourage everyone to check her out. I'll leave you with a few of my favorite lines from one of my favorite poems, "The December of my Springs."

perhaps there will be no
difference between the foolishness of age
and the foolishness of youth
some say we are responsible
for those we love
others know we are responsible
for those who love us

Status update...

At the four-month mark, I am at 22 books reviewed and 2 read but not yet reviewed - grand total of 24!

Seems a bit behind track, but I read like a fiend during school breaks and the summer (I literally read four books in the last week.)  I was able to read and (mostly) savor 90 books during the calendar year of 2010, so I just need to step it up half a notch to make my academic year goal!

Merry Christmas to Me!

Thanks to wonderful friends, I have three new books with which to begin the new year:

What the Night Knows by Dean Koontz (thank you, Cindy!)
Full Dark, No Stars by Stephen King and The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot (thank you for the Nook gift card, Christine!)

I also purchased Cleopatra by Stacy Schiff...I was going to get it for the Nook, but I wanted that one as an analog book.

So I'll be getting my thriller on in early 2011!

The Ultimate Be-Yotch...

Nefertiti by Michelle Moran 


Never, ever have I worked through an author's backlist so quickly.  I picked up Cleopatra's Daughter in late August, and bing-bam-boom - now I have to wait till February for my next hit of Michelle Moran's exquisitely written historical fiction.

I have to say, though, that Nefertiti is the weak link out of the three, in part because the titular character is, forgive my French, a bitch on wheels. She is every girl you ever hated in high school, on steroids. Combine Gordon Gecko, the mom from The Manchurian Candidate, and Regina George in Mean Girls and you come kind of close to Nefertiti. This charming young lady is chosen to marry the wing-nut, I mean Pharoah, Amunhotep, who she is supposed to rein in and make more stable.

Ummmm, no.  She uses Amunhotep (who soon re-names himself Akenaten and begins Egypt's, if not the world's, first experiment with monotheism) to try and fulfill her own desire to be remembered forever. Fortunately, the book is narrated by N's sister Mudjodmnet (which means "Sweet Child of the Goddess Mut - no, I'm not a dork, not at all) who is very likeable, although not as strong a narrator as those in Moran's other two Egypt novels. But the tale of palace intrigue, of balancing personal desires with family obligations, is definitely worth the read.

Full disclosure:  I am a complete and utter history geek, and next to the Jazz Age, I would pick ancient Egypt as the time period I'd want to live in. (When, unlike other eras I could mention, they actually BATHED.) Moran's novels make me feel as if I'm living in that period.  She is utterly frank in her author's notes as to what is fact, what is fiction, and what is a blend of both. I also love the fact that she is also a history geek, and encourage all like-minded followers to visit her blog at http://michellemoran.blogspot.com/, where she posts the most amazing links to recent historical discoveries. (Like, they might have found Amelia Earhart's bones!)

Alas, I do have to wait until Feb. 2011 for Moran's next novel, in which she regrettably departs from Egypt and spins a tale of Madame Tussaud during the French Revolution, a period in which I'm not nearly as interested (and in which they bathed much less frequently.)  But I'm still in.  If anyone can make 18th century France smell good, it's Moran.

Take That, Katniss Everdeen

Matched by Ally Condie

The comparisons to The Hunger Games were inevitable: a not-too-distant future world and a love triangle fueled not just by passion but by politics. However, this is no copy-cat novel. Ally Condie just may have created a new young adult sub-genre.  Not the dystopian, but the dys-Utopian novel.

Imagine this: In a not-too-distant future, the Society has eradicated cancer and most other life-threatening diseases.  Everyone is matched to a vocation that is perfectly suited to his or her talents,  crime is virtually non-existent, and everyone dies peacefully at the age of 80.  The ideal world, right?

Wrong.  The fact that "Society" is with a capital "S" should've been your first clue.

Another way in which Society ensures health and longevity is that they match individuals to marry who have compatible genetic profiles to guarantee healthy children. (The whole genetic-engineering concept should be your second clue.) When 17-year-old Cassia Reyes is Matched, she is initially overjoyed to find that her Match is someone she knows, which doesn't happen very often - her best friend Xander.  Her euphoria lasts until the very next day.  When she puts the micro-card of her match in the computer to look at Xander's baby pictures and think about what a perfect life they will have, for the briefest second - another boy's face appears. And she knows him, too...a shy, smart outsider named Ky, who is actually more than an outsider. He is what the Society calls an Aberration, for reasons unknown. Those few seconds not only make Cassia start to question the validity of her Match, but set in motion a snowball effect that lead to her challenging the foundations of the Society she lives in.

While this isn't as much of an adrenaline rush as The Hunger Games and sequels, I found this novel (and its protagonist) more interesting, more plausible, and more relatable, than Collins' (admittedly superb) trilogy. I also liked that the secondary characters, in particular Cassia's parents, are much more layered than the adults in Hunger Games.

Matched is the first in a planned trilogy, and I'll be eagerly pre-ordering whatever comes next.

Four super-short reviews

I went on a bit of a non-fiction binge last month - the humorous essays were calling to me. Here are two non-fiction, and two fiction books that I can't quite scare up a separate post on.

Why My Third Husband Will Be a Dog by Lisa Scottoline - Scottoline mostly writes novels, but this collection of essays (first published as newspaper columns) was my introduction to her, and it made me want to check out her fiction. Fun, funny, and makes me confident that I, too, will be a cool chick when in my 50s. (Even without the two divorces, precocious child, and four golden retrievers and psychotic Corgi that Scottoline boasts.)

I'm Dreaming of a Black Christmas by Lewis Black - What can be better, and more amusing, than a Christmas chronicle written by a non-observant Jew?  That the non-observant Jew in question be Lewis Black, coiner of the phrase "If you think about it too long, your head will explode."  I absolutely adore Black, and even though this isn't his strongest writing, it was an amusing and fast read.

The Family Man by Elinor Lipman - I almost abandoned this one, and I'm glad I didn't.  Take one Upper-West-Side-dwelling gay man, his recently widowed Fifth-Avenue-dwelling wife, and a long-estranged ex-daughter who is taking on the media con of the decade, and what do you get?  Charm and hilarity. It took awhile to warm up to this one, but it was worth it.

Maybe This Time by Jennifer Crusie - Crusie is a master of snappy dialogue - one can imagine her writing for Hepburn and Tracy- and she usually spins a good story. This one let me down somewhat. Those of you who know me well won't believe I'm saying this, but I really disliked the supernatural bent of her latest book. Her strength is creating fun, believable relationships (albeit much better-scripted than real life) and this was a wild digression.  Didn't hate it, but could've skipped it.

Non-Cat Lovers Might Just Want to Stop Here

Homer's Odyssey, by Gwen Cooper


So this is what happens when I go into Borders to "buy Doubt for film class." Before I even get near the DVD section, my eye is caught by the bait; a big red sign that says "BUY ONE, GET 50% OFF THE OTHER!" Such signs were made for suckers like me, and I am further seduced by this cover:



Come on, what am I - made of stone?


After doing my usual ritual when buying a book about an animal - flipping to the end to be sure the cat doesn't die (the cat doesn't die) - I rapidly picked up my second book, Why My Third Husband Will Be a Dog by Lisa Scottoline, and proceeded to the checkout. Oh, yeah, I did remember to buy Doubt.

Author Cooper was an early-20s, non-profit do-gooder, crashing with a friend in South Beach when Homer came into her life.  Her vet called her about a kitten she'd found whose eyes were so severely infected that she had to remove them, but whose sweet and fun-loving spirit was undiminished by sightlessness. When Cooper met Homer, she found (much as I did when faced with the cover) that resistance was futile.

While the memoir is partially about Homer's blindness, it is more about his utter cat-ness; having been blinded when only a few days old, he doesn't realize he's different.  The difference is more in Cooper's, and the people she meets, perception of him.  He is remarkable by any standards (he once scared away a would-be burglar/rapist) and Cooper's writing suggests that it is because of, not in spite of, his "disability."

In other words - fun, funny, heartwarming and sometimes heart-twisting (I was somewhat traumatized when Cooper wrote about being separated from her cats on 9/11 and not being able to get back to them in her downtown apartment for three days - it was totally a "there for the grace of God" feeling) and anyone with a heart and a scrap of pro-feline sentiment will fall for Homer, his owner, and his cat-step-siblings.

I was further charmed by the fact that Gwen Cooper is donating 10% of all her domestic royalties to organizations that benefit abused, abandoned, and disabled animals.  Go, Gwen!  And not only is Homer alive and well, you can friend him on Facebook. (Well, of course I did. Duh.)

Required Reading for All 80s Children

Talking to Girls About Duran Duran by Rob Sheffield and My Formerly Hot Life by Stephanie Dolgoff



Rob Sheffield owes me $15.00.

I'm not demanding a refund for the book (which I got out of the library anyway and thoroughly enjoyed.)  I just feel like he should foot some small part of the iTunes bill I incurred downloading 80s one-hit wonders whose existence I had totally forgotten until I read his book. (Come on Eileen, anyone?)

Sheffield, who used to write for Rolling Stone magazine, is a master at capturing small moments, and this memoir beautifully illustrates how intimately songs are linked with memory.  It's part coming of age story, part love-letter to the 1980s, embracing the decade warts and all.  A big part of the book's charm is Sheffield's persona; he writes about his earlier dorky days from an adult perspective that is not embarrassed by, but embraces, his past and present dorkitude. Which, as a total dork, I totally dig. Plus, he's cute!  I would have totally loved to see him with a boom box outside my window blasting Peter Gabriel. (Students, and anyone born after 1990, you'll need to ask me about the reference.)  (How thoroughly this book reconnected me with my misspent youth is proven by the fact that I used the word "totally" twice in one paragraph.)

I absolutely love the subtitle of Stepanie Doloff's blog-turned-book: Dispatches From Just the Other Side of Young.  What a great way to describe us children of the 80s, now in our early 40s, who don't seem to have an age bracket.  When I was at my class reunion last month, hanging out with my fab friends (and watching many of us dance JUST LIKE WE USED TO) it occurred to me that we don't seem middle-aged, even though we're now probably older than the teachers we thought were old, old, OLD in high school. "Just the other side of young" is a beautiful way to put it.

 While I imagine sitting with Rob Sheffield at Starbucks and picking apart Duran Duran lyrics (what, exactly, is "the union of the snake" a metaphor for?), I would love to sit down with Dolgoff for a cosmo or three. Except, as she describes, it'd probably take us three months to pick a date when we could both get together, and we'd be feeling it a lot more than we used to the next day. She describes perfectly the disconcerting experience of one's first non-Southern "ma'am"-ing, and all the other minor adjustments (fashion and otherwise) that one must make as one transitions from "young" to "just the other side."

I don't want to give away too much because I want all of my female friends to read this book, but I do want to give a big "AMEN, sister!" to Dolgoff's suggestion that we abolish the custom of saying a woman looks good "for her age." No one says that Denzel Washingon or George Clooney look good "for their age," so let's get rid of that last little bit of gender bias, m'kay?

Lest you get the idea that Dolgoff is some kind of militant feminist/age-ist, rest assured - her tongue is firmly planted in cheek for most of her observations.  In fact, her breezy, smart-ass, mildly self-deprecating tone is part of the joy of this book.  It is human, relatable, and utterly identifiable. 

Stieg's Sophomore Slump

The Girl Who Played With Fire by Stieg Larsson

After reading The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and discovering that it could, indeed, live up to the hype, my expectations were way high for the second installment in the trilogy.  I was not dramatically, but mildly, let down.

Played With Fire picks up about a year after the events in Dragon Tattoo and life for Mikael Blomqvist has returned, somewhat, to normal. (Although, really - is there ANYONE this dude doesn't sleep with?)  Not so for Salander, who has cut Blomqvist off and is living off the proceeds of her last caper in Dragon Tattoo.  Except, of course (Salander being Salander) she gets in boiling water and Blomqvist is the only one who can help her.

Mara Rooney

Noomi Rapace. Swedish Salander or Hollywood Salander? You decide.

While Played With Fire takes even longer to reach the main plot than Dragon Tattoo did, it didn't feel as long in this book because I had an emotional investment in the characters this time around. And on the topic of characters: As complex and multi-layered as Salander is (and I totally agree with the majority that she is one of the most interesting, unpredictable female characters in the history of ever) I find Blomqvist to be equally....well, not flat, exactly, but I don't see the charisma that makes every woman he meets want to sleep with him. Larsson tells us he's charismatic, but he doesn't show us. I like him, but I don't get him. Finally, I found some of the big plot reveals to be kind of predictable...but then again, I point out foreshadowing for a living, so I'm kind of a tough crowd.  On the plus side - the descriptions of Stockholm, the Swedish countryside, and the minutiae of daily life in Sweden kind of make me want to live there for awhile - and that's something I NEVER thought I'd say!

I found out from a student after I finished the book that it's a set-up for the last book in the trilogy, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest (which I own but have not yet read) and that made sense.  It felt like a "bridge" novel, kind of the print equivalent of The Empire Strikes Back.  When reading over this review, it strikes me as much more negative than my actual experience of reading the book was.  I really did enjoy the book, it just didn't have the "wow" factor of Dragon Tattoo. 

The Curse of the Sequel Persists...

Contagious - Scott Sigler   



Let down by two sequels in  row - that has to be some kind of record!

Let's be clear, my expectations for this book were WAY high. When I read Infected, it had me by the throat. Any time I wasn't at school or sleeping, I was reading that book.  Dishes?  Let them pile up. Papers to grade? They'll still be there in the morning. This one just didn't have the same effect - it took me a week to finish.

When the action picks up, Perry Dawsey has been successfully rid of his triangles physically although to say there is emotional backlash is an understatement. He has a lingering psychic connection to other triangle hosts, and is working with hard-boiled CIA agent Dew Phillips (my latest literary crush - I am determined that Xander Berkeley from 24 should play him in the movie, if there is ever a movie)...

Xander Berkeley

...and CDC scientist Margaret Montoya to track down new hosts of the strange disease. The main conflict for the first part of the book is that Montoya and Phillips are desperate for a live host in order to study and hopefully conquer the disease, while Perry's idea of "helping" is to kill the hosts on the spot.  Arguments ensue, but subside when it becomes evident that there is a new strain of the disease, much more threatening, and....wait for it...CONTAGIOUS. (And also spread in the GROSSEST WAY YOU COULD EVER IMAGINE.) (And no, it's not what you're probably thinking.)

One of the problems I had with this book is that there are just TOO MANY CHARACTERS.  Infected focused very tightly on the trio of Perry, Dew, and Margaret; there were supporting characters, but they were just that: supporting.  In this volume there are at least seven or eight characters who get their own point-of-view chapters, and I'm still not quite sure I could keep them all straight. One of them is one of the most disturbing villains I've ever read - a seven-year-old little girl who is a host of the new strain of the disease. And she's not disturbing in a Hannibal Lecter, oh-that's-kind-of-intriguing way; she's disturbing in an I-think-I-want-to-skip-to-the next-section-and-see-what Perry's-doing way. Shudder.

I also hated, hated, and give me one more HATED the ending.  It was a logical ending - perhaps the only logical ending - but I still hate it.  Damn you, Sigler, why did you have to leave your readers with a bad taste in their mouths? (An unfortunate metaphor, as you'll know if you read the book.)

3.5 out of 6 stars

Greeks Beat the Romans, Hands Down

The Lost Hero by Rick Riordan

Reading this book, I got an inkling of what it would be like if J.K. Rowling wrote a new Hogwarts series, with Harry and Co. as mentors.

Don't do it, J. Ro.  Rick Riordan is a far more skilled writer than you, and he fell short of the mark.

In this first volume of his Heroes of Olympus series, Riordan introduces us to three new fledgling demi-gods: Jason, an amnesiac who learns that he can fly; Piper, a not-really-kleptomaniac; and Leo, the mechanical genius who is haunted by his mother's death at (he thinks) his hands.  In due course they find out who their godly parents are (some nice twists here - one of them is the child of the Roman aspect of one of the Greek gods) and shortly thereafter are off on a quest to save an imprisoned deity and, of course, stop the end of the world as we know it.

Oh, and that Percy guy? He's missing in action. He's mentioned a lot, but we never get to see him. (You'll find out why about two pages from the end, and yeah, that was a nice twist as well.)

I liked this book.  There was plenty of action, Leo and Piper are cool characters (Jason, the protagonist, is oddly un-charismatic for the child of a major deity) and the references to famous and not-so-famous myths are a blast. (What's better than a book that makes you feel smart.)  What I didn't get was the "Oh my god, I can't wait to read the next one, let me go on Barnes and Noble and order it RIGHT THIS MINUTE!" feeling.   Part of this, I think, was the fault of the shift from a first-person (which all of the Percy books had) to third person point of view.  One of the things I enjoyed about the first five books was Percy's smart-ass, sardonic narration, and that was sorely missed in this book.

4 out of 6 stars.

That Bug Bite Looks a Little Funny....

From B&N.com: "Across America a mysterious disease is turning ordinary people into raving, paranoid murderers who inflict brutal horrors on strangers, themselves, and even their own families."



The creatures who are responsible for the infection in Scott Sigler's Infection are not vampires. They're not zombies.  They might be aliens, but we're really not sure yet. What they are, completely and unequivocally, are CREEPY.  And the disease they spread, which attacks body and mind alike, starts with little bumps that look (and itch) like spider bites, but rapidly morph into something that Lovecraft could only dream of creating. I'm not going to give it away, but look at the cover of the novel for a hint...

Anyway, at the center of the story are three deeply flawed but somehow still likeable "heroes":  Long-time FBI agent Dew Phillips, who's out for vengeance after his partner is killed while trying to take down one of the victims of the infection; CDC scientist Margaret Montoya, who has an inferiority complex and the hots for one of her co-workers; and ex-football star Perry Dawsey, who has more at stake than anyone.  He's been infected, and, determined not to go out with out a fight,  is going mano a mano with the bug bites from hell.

This is not an easy book to read.  I don't mean the style; Sigler has a dry, smart-ass narrative voice with plenty of dark humor.  It is, to put it in the mildest way possible, GROSS.  And I'm probably understating. But if you've got a strong stomach, this not-quite-horror, not-quite-scifi thriller shouldn't be missed.  I've already bought the follow-up, Contagious, for the Nook.  5.5 out of 6 stars.

Ultra-Super-Mega Post

A few of the books I've read in the last six weeks, while enjoyable, can be summed up succinctly. Here are five quickies:

All Over the Map by Laura Fraser - Travelogue meets midlife angst.  Eat, Pray, Love without the charm. 2 out of 6 stars.

Being Nikki and Runaway by Meg Cabot - Teenage fluff, but with a smart, sarcastic narrator that makes them enjoyable for adults as well.  Female adults, anyway.  Female adults who remember being nerdy and scaring boys away by being smart.  4 out of 6 stars.

The Spice Necklace: My Adventures in Caribbean Cooking, Eating, and Island Life by Amy Vanderhoof - Not all mid-life travelogues are irritating.  Vanderhoof and her husband took a year off from life to sail around the Caribbean (chronicled in her first book, An Embarrassment of Mangoes) and, after retirement, decided to make sailing from island to island their way of life. I've been to many of the islands that she writes about, and it was fascinating to see the "behind the scenes," vicariously hanging out with the people who live in paradise.  The narrative is peppered with island recipes, and I am looking forward to making the Escoveitch Fish. 4 out of 6 stars.

The  Burning Wire by Jeffery Deaver - It is a tribute to Deaver that I almost just typed, The Burning Wire by Lincoln Rhyme.  That's how real Deaver makes his characters in this latest volume in the chronicles of the quadriplegic crimefighter and his assistant/girlfriend Amelia Sachs, who in the novels looks absolutely nothing like Angelina Jolie. Anyway - this time, Rhyme is toe to toe with a killer who uses the ultimate, ubiquitous, invisible weapon - elecrtricity.   Deaver clearly does his homework in every novel, and I learned more about the Northeast Power Grid than I ever thought I'd need to know.  But if some passages drag with technical detail, the overall plot is gripping enough to make up for it.

Deaver has a gimmick: he throws in red herrings and plot twists, sometimes just a few pages before the end of the novel, that leave you smacking your head and saying, "What an idiot! Why didn't I see that coming?"  So, if a reader can go into a book knowing that the author has that gimmick....and the gimmick still works...well, I don't think the label "genius" is exaggerating. 5.5 out of 6 stars.

The One That I Want by Allison Scotch - Vaguely entertaining chick lit, but the characters were so shallow and one-dimensional that I didn't really give a toss if they found inner fulfillment. 1 out of 6 stars.

The Heretic Queen by Michelle Moran - Remember in my very first post, about Cleopatra's Daughter, I said that I'd be working my way through this author's backlist?  I'm not wasting any time.  The set has switched from ancient Rome to ancient Egypt and re-wound 2500 years, and this time the narrator is Nefertari, niece of the heretic Nefertiti.  (I won't let my enthusiasm for Egyptian history run wild and bore the pants off of people who are NOT so interested, but if you want to know why she's a heretic, just ask. Or better yet, read the book!)  Nefertari is the constant companion of the heir to Pharoah's throne, Rameses, who will one day be known as Ramses the Great. He wants to make her his wife, but her family's tainted past causes all manner of strife and intrigue.

This books is fun to read just for the story, and the details and views into ancient Egyptian life are the icing on the cake.  Moran is another author who does her homework. (Rameses the Great was a redhead! Miw means cat!) I am trying to hold back on reading Nefertiti, as it's the last in her backlist, until she publishes something else. 5 out of 6 stars.

Spider Bones by Kathy Reichs - I tried to like the TV series Bones, truly I did.  But it can't hold a candle to the winning voice that Reichs gives to Tempe Brennan. In this latest installment, a man's body is found underwater - weighed down with a rock, dressed in women's clothing, and determined to be a victim of autoerotic asphyxiation gone horribly wrong.  Brennan and her team are quickly able to establish an ID based on  the victim's fingerprints, but there's only one problem - he died in Vietnam thirty-five years ago.

Interesting and fun to read for any fans of thrillers or crime novels, but especially those (like me) who like to vicariously live the life of a forensic scientist. All of the thrills, none of the smells.  Everyone wins!  4.5 out of six stars.

Faithful Place by Tana French - French is probably the most frustrating author I've ever encountered.  She writes engaging thrillers with sympathetic narrators - the fact that they're set in Ireland is an added bonus - but her conclusions just fizzle away.  She has you by the metaphorical balls for the first three quarters of a novel, and then the ending leaves you asking the fabled question, "Is that all there is?"  Faithful Place is no exception - gripping up until the last 50 pages, which are a total letdown. 3 out of 6 stars.


So that's where I stand eight weeks in, at twelve books. Two of them, Dexter is Delicious and Infected, deserve proper posts of their own, which I'll get to - eventually. Right now, I have to go and finish The Lost Hero, so I can give it to one of my students tomorrow.  And if I take this long to update again, give me a kick in the can, okay?

Cheers,
Joann

I have been reading, I promise...

...I just haven't been blogging!  Have read about 10 books since last I posted, but school has kept me "busy" (loose translation: just this side of bonkers) and whenever I'm on the computer I seem to have work to do.

I promise an update this weekend - they will probably be super-short, like thumbs-up/thumbs down, but I'll get it done!

Joann

Historical crushes, old and new.

I am a sucker for anything dealing with ancient Egypt or ancient Rome, so I was immediately captivated by Michelle Moran's novel, whose cover caught my eye in what was supposed to be a non-buying visit to Barnes and Noble.

Cleopatra's Daughter is told through the eyes of Kleopatra Selene, daughter of Kleopatra and Marc Antony (historical crush number one.)  From her life as an independent, proud Egyptian, she and her twin Alexander are taken back to Rome after Octavian conquered Alexandria.  As "guests" (read: royal prisoners) in the home of Octavian's sister Octavia (they were so original, those Romans!) Selene deals with her homesickness and her conflicting fear of, and growing respect for, the man who conquered her homeland and drove her parents to suicide.  On the advice of her nemesis (or is he?) Juba (historical crush number two) starts to make herself "useful" to Octavian in hopes of not only surviving, but of someday returning to the throne.

Marc Antony as envisioned by HBO

Side note:  Juba was the prince of Numidia (which was in what's now Algeria and Tunisia - I had to look it up too) when Octavian conquered that land.  He surrendered and because one of Octavian's closest advisors, along with Agrippa.

Also, he was hot!

Part coming-of-age story, part political drama, Moran's book is exquisitely detailed. She creates believable, sympathetic characters from names that might otherwise be left to the pages of history books.  Selene is a thoroughly engaging narrator (and I so want her clothes!); Juba (!) is a wise-ass frenemy who derides her desire to be an architect at the same time he is anonymously supporting her projects.  I was really intrigued by her portrayal of Octavian.  He was shown as being kind of a tool in HBO's Rome, and he's definitely shown as being ruthless in this book - but with moments of unexpected fairness and compassion.

In fact, the whole book reads somewhat like Rome, without the sex but almost as violent. A must-read for any lover of historical fiction.  I've since found out that Moran has also written historical novels about Nefertiti and her niece, Nefertari.  I'm so there.

Who I recommend it to: Any reader of historical fiction, teenagers who have had it up to their eyeballs with vampire books.

Bibliocat gives it:  4 out of 5 catnip mice.

Out of the starting gate...

Welcome to the challenge I've posed to myself - to read 100 books in 364 days and blog about them.

My reason for this is twofold.  First and foremost,  for the first time in three years, I'm not in grad school and am teaching the same grade as last year, so I have time to do it!  I've kept a running list of the books I've read over the calendar year for six years now, but haven't reflected on many of them in writing.

Secondly, my personal writing has slacked off horribly in recent history.  Writing something besides lesson plans is good for my spirit, and if I (hopefully!) am writing for an audience, I'll be more inclined to persevere.

My rules are:
1) At least 10 of the books have to be books I've always felt like I ought to read, but have never gotten around to.
2) Up to 10 of the books can be re-reads of former favorites, as long as I read the book more than a year ago.
3) I give myself permission to abandon 1 in 20 books if it's putting me to sleep/giving me agita/making my eyes roll back in my head.  Life's too short to read bad books!

I welcome suggestions for the required reading list, as well as anything you think I would enjoy.

So climb on board, fellow readers, and buckle your seatbelts.  It's going to be a wild ride.