2011 Reading Challenges Wrap-up

It’s the end of December, and time to report on Reading Challenges (before I dive into my reading for 2012, of course).  I met all my goals this year, thanks to some careful reading in December to finish out the last few.  🙂  I really enjoyed all the challenges, and the nice feeling of accomplishment it gave to my reading whenever I read something that fit a list.  Not every book I read for the challenge was excellent, of course, but I did find some good ones, and I got to read many books (and types of books) I’ve wanted to, but tended not to get around to.

So I’m calling that a success!  A little more detailed reflection on each challenge below.

Here’s my final list for the year.  Linked titles go to my review of the book.   If you see something you’re curious about that doesn’t have a review, let me know!  If I don’t feel like I have enough to say for a full post, I’ll at least let you know what I thought in a reply-comment.  Rereads are designated with an R for all but the Library challenge, and aren’t counted.

Here’s what I’ve read in 2011 Continue reading “2011 Reading Challenges Wrap-up”

An Enchantress or an Alien–or Both

Science Fiction and Fantasy get lumped together all the time, in discussions, in “Best of” lists, in the bookstore.  But you rarely see them together in a single novel.  Enchantress from the Stars by Sylvia Engdahl is a brilliantly-devised story that could be in Earth’s distant past–or even more distant future.

The story is told by Elana, who belongs to a society far advanced beyond present-day Earth.  She is part of a Federation of many planets, joined together in peaceful cooperation.  They study less advanced worlds, but have a strict non-interference policy, believing that it’s best for cultures to develop without knowing about more advanced races.

(For the Star Trek fans–I know, I know.  All I can tell you is that this was written in 1971, but feels less like Star Trek when you’re actually reading it.)

Elana is training to be one of the scientists who studies Youngling worlds, when she stows away on a mission to Andrecia.  Andrecia’s native people are at roughly a Middle Ages level of development.  Their future is threatened by colonists from another world–the Imperials have developed space travel, but have not yet achieved the level of Elana’s people, either technologically or culturally.  The Federation team’s mission is to induce the Imperials to leave, without harming either race’s culture.

Elana ends up taking on the role of Enchantress, to relate to the Andrecians in a way they can comprehend–she especially connects with one, Georyn.  She teaches him magic spells (combinations of technology and telekinesis), so that he can go fight the dragon (the Imperials’ digging machine).  The hope is that if an Andrecian uses powers the Imperials can’t understand, they’ll be convinced to give up their colony.

The brilliance of the story is that it’s told from three very different points of view–Elana, from her advanced, enlightened perspective; Georyn, who tells a Brothers Grimm-style story about a beautiful Enchantress, a dragon served by terrifying demons, and magical spells; and Jarel, an Imperial who questions what his government is doing but doesn’t know how to act–and is probably the closest to all of us who are reading.

The three perspectives are intertwined and so different, yet work so well together.  It’s emphasized, in Elana’s sections, that Georyn’s perspective on events isn’t wrong either–he simply has a different understanding, a different way of viewing what’s happening.  In some ways, he proves to be the most intelligent and the most insightful of any of the characters.

Elana is very interesting too, because we see her as the uncertain, often naive girl she is on the mission; as the strong and wise enchantress Georyn sees her as; and as the more mature voice telling the story after it’s all over.  Her character growth, throughout the story and from the after-perspective, is very excellently done.

This is a good adventure with compelling characters, and it’s ultimately a very hopeful story.  Engdahl is careful to place Andrecia, Elana’s home world, and the Imperials’ home planet all in the position of third from their stars.  It notes in the introduction that any of them could be Earth–this could be a story about our past, or a story about our future.  Ultimately, I don’t think it matters.  We’re all of them.  The hopeful part is that the book makes it clear that Georyn’s people, and Jarel’s, and us, can all learn and grow and eventually reach the wisdom of Elana’s people.

In that way I guess it is like Star Trek, as a vision of a hopeful future.  But if you want to take this as science fiction, as fantasy, as philosophy, or even as something with some of the same elements as Star Trek, it’s worth reading–it’s a wonderful book.

Author’s Site: http://www.sylviaengdahl.com/index.htm

Other reviews:
Book Snatch
Jenna St. Hilaire
Yours?  Let me know!

Capturing Ten Moments in Time

How often do you really think about a photograph?  You’ll look at photos in a whole new way if you read Smile! by Geraldine McCaughrean–or, as I did, listen to the audiobook.

Smile! is about Flash, a photographer whose small plane crashes in a remote area.  He manages to save only one camera–a simple Polaroid, with ten shots.  Flash is taken in by a primitive village, which has rarely had contact with the outside world.  As he speaks to the villagers, he realizes that none of them have ever seen a photograph.  Accepted by the villagers as “the magician who fell from the sky,” Flash must decide what to spend his ten photographs on–what sights will he preserve for the villagers?

Flash comes to love the villagers, and it’s not hard to relate to that feeling.  There are Sutira and her brother Olu, two children who adopt Flash.  And there’s “the old, old man,” the village elder who helps Flash decide what pictures to take–and what shouldn’t be photographed.

Seeing the photographs through the villagers’ eyes is fascinating.  All of us, with our digital cameras and our Google image searches, are so used to the idea of photographs.  But through the eyes of the villagers and through McCaughrean’s gorgeous prose, a photo becomes something magical–a moment in time, frozen and preserved.  Through photos, “the dead can still smile in the land of the living.”  A little boy is ten years old forever.  When the village goes through hungry times, they can look on the feast in their past.  In sad times, the image of their joyful dance.

The book is about photos, and about Flash, as he learns from the villagers–about beauty, about memory, and about what’s really valuable.  It’s a simple, fairly short, and lovely book.

McCaughrean’s writing is beautiful, and I’m sure it was enhanced in the audiobook (available on iTunes) by the reader.  I was thrilled to discover this was read by Richard Morant.  He was the voice of Titus Oates in the audiobook for another of McCaughrean’s novels, The White Darkness.  I won’t wax on again–I’ve done it before–but suffice to say he has a beautiful voice.

This book is listed as a children’s book, and in its simplicity, perhaps it is one.  But it’s another wonderful example of a children’s book with depth, with meaning, and which can be read on so many levels.

Author’s Site: http://www.geraldinemccaughrean.co.uk/index.htm

Other reviews:
Big A little a

I couldn’t find others!  Any you’d like to share?

Favorites Friday: Christmas Movies

I’m a traditionalist when it comes to Christmas movies.  Mostly I like the old ones–the warm, fuzzy, Frank Capra-type movies.  I already wrote about Charlie Brown and George Bailey, so here are a few other favorites.

White Christmas – This is a fun story about two army buddies who make it big in show business after World War II.  One Christmas, they have to use their musical talents to help their former commanding officer–while wooing two beautiful sisters.  Starring Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye and Rosemary Clooney, this is full of musical numbers, including Bing’s signature song.  And I love the end scene with the reunited troops singing “We’ll Follow the Old Man” to the General.

Holiday Inn – Bing Crosby seems to be the king of Christmas movies.  In this one, he’s in show business with Fred Astaire, until he decides to start Holiday Inn: an inn only open on holidays.  The movie actually covers the entire year, and Fred and Bing do musical numbers for every major holiday, in between vying for the same girl.  This movie has worked its way into my brain, and I find myself quoting the most random lines.  If you ever hear me say something will be as easy as peeling a turtle, I don’t know what it means either, but Bing Crosby said it.

You Can’t Take It With You – As far as I know, no one but me has ever connected this movie to Christmas.  And Christmas actually isn’t in it at all, but the feeling is right.  Lately I’ve been watching this while I wrap Christmas presents.  Like It’s a Wonderful Life, it’s directed by Frank Capra, and repeats half the cast.  Lionel Barrymore stars in a role so different from Mr. Potter, I didn’t recognize him the first time I watched the movie.  He presides as the kindly patriarch of a blissfully cheery and decidedly kooky family where everyone does just as they like–writing plays, dancing ballet, or designing fireworks.  Barrymore’s granddaughter falls in love with Jimmy Stewart, who comes from an uptight, big business-type family, and when the families come together, lifestyles clash with funny results.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas – The old, animated Grinch is so fun with the rhymes and the song and the familiar animation.  I won’t claim it’s a work of great art, but it’s one of those cozily familiar Christmas movies.

Joyeux Noel – By far the most modern movie on my list, this is about soldiers in WWI.  In opposite trenches one Christmas, the Scottish and French troops begin talking to the German troops, and the end up spending the day together.  When Christmas is over and everything is supposed to be normal, they can’t bring themselves to fight each other.  My favorite part is shortly after Christmas–the Germans get the word that the opposite trench will be shelled, so they go over to warn them, and invite them to stay in their trench for a while.  After it’s over, the French point out that their artillery will probably retaliate, so the Germans had better come over to their trench.  It’s so ridiculous and so beautiful!

I know there’s lots of other Christmas movies–what should I add to the list?

The Richest Man in Bedford Falls

Continuing the Christmas movie theme this week, today I want to look at another Christmas classic, It’s a Wonderful Life.  I honestly don’t know how many times I’ve watched it–15?  20?  It’s a rare Christmas that I don’t rewatch it, at least since I was maybe eight, so it has to be a high number of times!  It’s one of those wonderful movies that I can keep on watching, and keep seeing new things.

I’d like to just assume everyone’s seen it, but I did that in a class once, when I wanted to quote a line, and was shocked that half the people present had never watched the movie.  So, a plot summary: George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart) lives in the tiny town of Bedford Falls, and has always dreamed of getting out into the world to do great things.  Circumstances, duty and responsibility keep trapping him in town.  He marries Mary (Donna Reed), and runs the Bailey Brothers Building and Loan, his father’s company which makes loans and builds houses for the working class in town.  This job puts him at odds with Mr. Potter (Lionel Barrymore), a “warped, frustrated old man” who cares only for his money and his control; as he puts it himself, “Most people hate me, but I don’t like them either, so it comes out even.”  Mr. Potter can’t stand it that he can’t control George and the Building and Loan; George hates his job but persists so that “people in town will have at least one place they can go to without crawling to Potter.”

One Christmas Eve, George gets into a terrible mess (his uncle and business partner’s fault) involving missing money, and is finally at the end of his rope.  When he contemplates killing himself, God sends Clarence Oddbody, a genial angel trying to earn his wings, who helps George by showing him what the world would be like if he had never been born.

Like Casablanca, I feel like the plot summary barely does it justice.  It’s a wonderful, complex, deftly-handled movie.  Ultimately, it’s about what is probably a nearly-universal problem, the conflicting pulls between our duty and our dreams, between our relationships and our freedom.  I love stories about people who chase their dreams and disregard the consequences.  But I also believe it’s our relationships that bring us the greatest happiness.  Like Mary, I moved back to my hometown after college, mostly because of my family.  Like George, I have big dreams of seeing the world.  Unlike George, I like to think I can combine those goals.

I feel so sad for George, especially in the beginning of the movie, when he keeps getting SO close to going out into the world, and every time something thwarts him–with his own sense of responsibility a major cause.  This would be a terrible movie if I really believed George was miserable his whole life, and then Clarence swooped in at the end to convince him everything was wonderful.  But the movie is handled more carefully than that.

There’s this very nice balance between George’s frustrations and longings, and all the happiness that really is in his life.  We see him dreaming of escaping, but we also see him surrounded by warm friends and loving family.  His frustrations and his happiness tend to be juxtaposed.  (Warning: Spoilers after this point!)  The same day he realizes his brother won’t be taking over the Building and Loan, trapping him in town, he also gets together with Mary.  He turns down a slimy offer from Potter but feels frustrated with his life, and that night Mary announces she’s having a baby.  If George’s friends came to help him only at the end, none of this would work.  Instead, there’s a definite feeling that they’re there all along.

Watching this for the 15th or 20th time, I can pay attention to the background things.  When I watched it this year, I was really drawn by the pictures on the walls.  It’s particularly striking during the bank crisis, when George is on the phone with Potter.  The two men are contrasted through their pictures.  George is in his office, with a picture of his mother on the desk (in other scenes, we also see he has his father’s picture on the wall).  Potter is in his study, with an enormous portrait of himself over the fireplace.  Near the end, when George is frustrated and lashing out, he knocks over a model bridge in his living room, which is sitting on a work table.  Behind the bridge, though, you can see a line of photos: Mary, George’s mother, Uncle Billy…  There’s also a picture of Lincoln.  Contrast that to our view of Potter’s office in the next scene, where he seems to have a bust of Napoleon–and another portrait of himself.  The model bridge also gives me hope that George hasn’t completely given up on his dreams of building great things.

This is ultimately a beautiful movie about what matters most in life, and it delivers the message without being cloying or overly sentimental.  That takes a deft touch too.  One example–George makes several impassioned speeches, about pulling together, or about what really counts, or occasionally fighting with Potter.  His most beautiful speeches are generally disregarded by his audience.  He makes a wonderful, passionate speech during the bank crisis; the crowd stares at him, then says, “Yeah, but we need money!”  This not only demonstrates George’s frustrations, it also saves the scenes from being too over the top.  If everyone applauded at the end, it would turn into sentimentalist nonsense.

Instead, it all builds up to the final message of the movie, a toast from George’s brother: “To my big brother George, the richest man in town.”  The beautiful part is that it’s not a tacked-on message.  It’s there throughout the movie, and I think George really does know all along that, as Clarence says, “No man is a failure who has friends.”  Much earlier in the movie, George is speaking about his father to Potter, and says, “In my book, he died a much richer man than you’ll ever be.”  Because he had character, and he cared about people.

George did have a wonderful life all along, and I think he knew it–he just didn’t know that he knew it.

So how does George wind up, after his experience on Christmas Eve?  We don’t know, but I like to think maybe he ends up a little like, ironically, Lionel Barrymore’s character in another Frank Capra movie, You Can’t Take It With You.  He never gets rich, but he presides over a big happy family, friends with all his neighbors, appreciating the people around him.