book-filled book club

We had sort of a catch-up book club last night to discuss two books and to choose some new books for the new year. As usual, it was a very enjoyable night. The book club girls were good enough to come to my house since Marc is out of town, and we had a lasagna dinner. Collette brought this beautiful cake from Cold Stone.


The general consensus on Ines of My Soul: while we didn't dislike it, we didn't love it, either. It was a bit of a laborious read (never a good sign in my book). I think we all agreed that Allende's descriptions of passion were way over the top. Jill even went so far as to say that she's done with Allende, which I found very interesting, since I know how much she loved House of the Spirits.

Somehow I had never thought about the conquest of South America before reading this book. And as much as I enjoy historical fiction, I find myself constantly wondering how much of it is true, and which parts. If the colonization of South America by Spain was even one half as barbaric and cruel as this novel leads us to believe, I am truly horrified. I thought a lot about the nature of colonization -- how can these wondrously cruel acts be carried out in the name of bringing Christianity to the so-called uncivilized natives? In many cases, the native people were friendly and unsuspecting, only to be violated in the extreme or even decimated. How can this ever be a good thing? These questions are what persist in my mind after leaving this book behind.


The Thirteenth Tale was a much more enjoyable read. The whole novel revolves around books, reading, and writing. I think any bibliophile would appreciate the immersion in the world of books. Jenn felt inspired to start writing more, and I think that is always a good thing. This book has some colorful characters, and a mystery thrown in for good measure. (another bonus: it doesn't contain anything offensive, and could be recommended to anyone)

Here are a couple of passages that stood out to me:

-- The doctor's wife wasn't a bad woman... she was too taken up with rooting out the pride she was prone to feeling in her own holiness to notice any other failings she might have had. She was a do-gooder, which means that all the ill she did, she did without realizing it.

-- His voice had the unmistakable lightness of someone telling something extremely important. A story so cherished it had to be dressed in casualness to disguise its significance in case the listener turned out to be unsympathetic.

There it was again: that almost imperceptible flaring of the nostrils, that twitch at the edge of the mouth. I had always taken it for severity, a clue that he thought little of me; but now it occurred to me that it might not be disapproval after all. Was it possible, I thought, that Dr. Clifton was secretly laughing at me?

He removed the thermometer from my mouth, folded his arms and delivered his diagnosis. "You are suffering from an ailment that afflicts ladies of romantic imagination. Symptoms include fainting, weariness, loss of appetite, low spirits. While on one level the crisis can be ascribed to wandering about in freezing rain without the benefit of waterproofing, the deeper cause is more likely to be found in some emotional trauma. However, unlike the heroines of your favorite novels, your constitution has not been weakened by the privations of life in earlier, harsher centuries. No tuberculosis, no childhood polio, no unhygienic living conditions. You'll survive. Treatment is not complicated: eat, rest, and take this..."

I reached for the prescription. In a vigorous scrawl, he had inked: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Case Book of Sherlock Holmes. Take ten pages, twice a day, till end of course.

-- All children mythologize their birth. It is a universal trait. You want to know someone? Heart, mind and soul? Ask him to tell you about when he was born. What you get won't be the truth; it will be a story. And nothing is more telling than a story.

(I have a lingering curiosity about this last passage. What do you think? Do you have a story to tell about your own birth? If so, leave it in a comment.)

I must say I'm excited about the books we chose so far for the new year --

January: The Book Thief
February: A Thousand Splendid Suns
March: Eat, Pray, Love
April: Wild Swans
May: The Woman in White (in homage to The Thirteenth Tale)
June: Cry, the Beloved Country
July: This I Believe (compilation of NPR essays)

Ah, books... I love them so.