Otherwise Engaged, by Suzanne Finnamore (1999)
I don't like people who are in the planning stages of a wedding. They're self-absorbed and whiny and they give too much importance to minor issues. I explain this to people early on, when I'm just getting to know them: "I need you to know that if you get engaged, we can't be friends again until after you're married."
I only read this book, which is of course about an engagement, because I read another book by this author (see review) that was so good I nearly wrote a fan letter.
And of course I loved this one too, because the subject matter is not as important as the author. She is so good, I can't stand it. I find her style mesmerizing. Great, now you'll hate it because I've oversold it.
The main reason I think this book rises above all the other "planning a wedding" books is that it is not really about planning a wedding: it's about planning to be married. The reason we (I confidently assume you're with me on this) hate brides-to-be is that they're focusing so much on My Special Day that they seem to forget that the menu, the flowers, the band, the cake, the dress, and the honeymoon have nothing to do with what comes afterward. It's nice to have the ceremony and accompanying celebration, but what you should really be doing during the engagement period is what Suzanne Finnamore does: make the decisions for the caterers, but also make sure that the marriage is what you want. Do you want to be married to this person? Do you want to be married at all? Those are the questions, not "Do I want five bridesmaids or do I want six?" No one ponders the important issues quite like Suzanne Finnamore, which is why I love her writing.
The Good, The Bad, & The Difference: How to Tell Right From Wrong in Everyday Situations, by Randy Cohen (2002)
This is a terrific book about ethics for people who like their lessons in Q&A format, as I do. Questions are tough and deal with subjects such as: Do I tell my best friend I saw her husband with another woman? and, Can I sell a bunch of stuff left at my house by an ex-friend who's forgotten all about them? and, What do I do if I found something incriminating while snooping?, and Can I keep my pregnancy a secret from prospective employers?
Randy Cohen answers each question, and also prints responses from people who disagree. Sometimes there's a follow-up from the original questioner, saying what he or she ended up doing. Some questions are answered by "guest ethicists" who give a different point of view, and there are hypothetical questions for readers to answer (best answers to be printed in the paperback version of the book). I found the whole book an interesting and challenging read, though the little nudge-nudge political jokes (of the "stupidity and evil rarely coexist--except in the White House" variety) got a little old by the end.
Do What You Are: Discover the Perfect Career for You Through the Secrets of Personality Type, by Paul D. Tieger & Barbara Barron-Tieger (1992)
The personality types referred to are the Myers-Briggs 4-letter ones: are you introverted or extraverted, a thinker or a feeler, and so on, until you can refer to yourself as an ESTP or an INFJ or whatever. I've read several books and articles on the Myers-Briggs personality test, and this is the first book I've read that makes the distinctions between choices clear. In the past I've been reluctant to call myself, for example, a "feeler," knowing that in order to do that I'd have to think of myself as a non-thinker. This book finally clears all that up. Instead of giving you a difficult multiple-choice test in which you are asked to say whether you are one thing across all possible situations, the authors discuss each choice between two characteristics for several pages, until you feel comfortable choosing one or the other.
Once you have chosen your type, you can flip forward to a discussion of people with your same type and what kinds of careers make them happy and why. Lists follow of all the careers typically enjoyed by your personality type, and how to successfully apply for those jobs. No claims are made that all people with the same type are "the same," only that they tend to have some things in common. If the description of your type doesn't ring true, there are instructions for re-evaluating and re-choosing. Of course, since there are sixteen types, only about 1/16th of the book (in addition to the parts the apply to all types) will be applicable to you. The rest will not be a waste, as you will have great fun choosing types for all your family members, ex-boyfriends, pets, etc.
Even though this is certainly the best Myers-Briggs book I've ever read, I still was unable to choose my own type. Some of us are Complicated.
Queen Bees & Wannabes: Helping Your Daughter Survive Cliques, Gossip, Boyfriends & Other Realities of Adolescence, by Rosalind Wiseman (2002)
Written for parents currently dealing with teenage daughters, this book made me fall to my knees and thank all the stars above that I was no longer a teenaged girl myself. My god, what a time of self-righteousness, insecurity, and illogical thinking. But after reading this book, I have more empathy and understanding for the nasty brats. It's not their fault they've gone crazy, and most of them will grow out of it and become perfectly nice women. In the meantime, they deserve our pity and they deserve to have their problems and struggles taken seriously. Life in what the author calls "Girl World" is tough. I don't know how anyone pulls through it.
I was surprised to find a nonfiction book so absorbing: I found myself pulled back to it again and again, and thinking about it often. I warn you, however, that reading the book may cause you to think back on your experiences in middle school and high school, and you may not enjoy that; on the other hand, the book will give you new perspective that may soften the memories. It seemed to me that parents of teenaged girls would find the book helpful.
Girls: Ordinary Girls and Their Extraordinary Pursuits, by Jenny McPhee, Laura McPhee, and Martha McPhee (2000)
A nice complement to the Queen Bees... book reviewed above, this book explores through photos and essays the lives of girls who do things other than join cliques, throw parties, and gossip. These girls dance, play chess, play football, play the harp, wrestle, write sonnets, and act. It's encouraging, and the photos are pleasing and thought-provoking.
Dog Handling, by Clare Naylor (2002)
Dog Handling reminded me of a medium-grade sitcom: the plot was predictable, the characters were stock, the dialogue was uninspired, but it was nevertheless mildly entertaining, and I did read all the way to the end to find out how it would come out (it comes out exactly as expected). The author's hands are visible at all times, pulling the strings and pushing the plot forward; there's no feeling that the book lives on its own.
The plot is this: Liv's fiancé breaks off their engagement weeks before the wedding, just as Liv herself is having doubts. The reason on both sides: they love each other but are not IN love. Profound. Liv, apparently, would like to have more exciting sex with more partners, and this theme is forced throughout the book; we can't get through a page without hearing Liv think about how much she wants to have sex. She goes to visit her best friend, the gorgeous woman who lives off of rich men. She adds to her entourage two cross-dressing gay men who play up the campy-male-friend roles. Then she finds a long lost love. The theory is introduced that the way to win men is to "treat them like dogs." Now the misunderstandings begin; all feel like plot devices to delay the progression of the obvious finale, none feel natural or realistic.
I will say this: the cover art is adorable. And if you're in a channel-flipping mood, this might be just your speed.
Letters for Emily, by Camron Wright (2001)
A man is dying; possibly of Alzheimer's disease, possible of depression, possibly to avoid going to a nursing home. The author never decides for sure, instead using the opportunity to criticize the healthcare system. (And speaking of misdiagnosis, several untrue or misleading statements are made about Alzheimer's disease, so don't take the book as medical information.) The dying man wants to leave all his wisdom to his granddaughter Emily, so he writes her a series of poems. Each poem contains a hidden password. Each password opens a computer file in which the man has stored a letter for her.
The poems are truly awful: maudlin and ponderous, with useless words and/or lines added just to make the length come out right. The letters to Emily are sermons. Each seems deeply meaningful at first glance, but most are faulty analogies at best, mawkish and false at worst. Angels are, of course, mentioned. The real treasures of life are emphasized. The importance of love and family, and the relative unimportance of riches and prestige, are dutifully rolled forth. There isn't a single lesson here that Emily couldn't have learned from a Hallmark card, and the Hallmark card would have put it more succinctly.
I couldn't believe the author was asking me to swallow so much tripe all at once: the bad poetry, the stale platitudes, the sentimental truisms presented as fresh insights, the daytime-television-style happy ending, the single tear running down an old man's cheek. Holy mother of crap have mercy. But what kind of fool was I to check out a book endorsed by Richard Paul Evans, King of Schmaltz & Treacle? (see review of one of RPE's books)
My Happy Life, by Lydia Millet (2002)
This odd short novel concerns the life of a woman who is left behind, locked up, when a psychiatric hospital shuts down. As she starves, she relates the story of her life and how she came to be where she is. It's a pitiful tale of a child forgotten, abused, left behind, and taken advantage of time and time again. What makes it especially pitiful is the woman's acceptance of it, even her belief that she has had a good and happy life. I wished for a more triumphant ending for her, with trouncing and vindication and reuniting with people who would love her. But she doesn't wish for that and wouldn't recognize it if she got it, so I wished it only for myself. To her, the ending is perfectly happy.
Instances of the Number 3, by Salley Vickers (2001)
When a man dies abruptly in a car accident, who would believe that his wife and his mistress would become friends? And yet they do. Other elements come into play: a young man who claims Peter as a sort of patron; a baby; new loves; Peter's ghost. A good book with many things to think about.
The Good People of New York, by Thisbe Nissen (2001)
This mother-daughter novel explores the lives of Roz (the mother) and Miranda (the daughter). I'm finding it hard to write the review. I'm confused because the description on the inside of the book jacket mentions issues that I didn't think were issues; e.g., a love Roz supposedly has for Miranda that "skews everything else in their lives." It was a good book and I liked it, but it seemed to me it was just an ordinary story of a mother and daughter and the things that happen in their lives (divorce, dating, remarriage, and jobs for Roz; periods, boys, camp, school, and jobs for Miranda), told mostly from the daughter's perspective as these novels usually are--and not, as the jacket implied, a story of some sort of unusual, obsessive relationship that sucks people in and spits them out.
Dreaming Water, by Gail Tsukiyama (2002)
Werner's Syndrome is a disease that causes rapid, premature aging at two to three times the normal rate. Hana is 38 years old but looks like she's in her 80s. Hana's mother Cate is Hana's caregiver; strangers would think that Cate was Hana's daughter instead of her mother. Hana's best friend from childhood, Laura, would like to visit Hana, but Hana can't bear to have anyone see her as an old woman. Laura comes anyway.
Told from the points of view of Hana, Cate, Laura, and Laura's daughter Josephine, this book is a story of a friendship and of mother-daughter relationships. It is also the story of how Cate, an Italian-American, came to marry Hana's father Max, a Japanese-American, and of their struggles as a post WWII couple facing the prejudices of the times. I thought it was a great book, but it left me wanting more--as good books often do.
To Say Nothing of the Dog, by Connie Willis (1997)
You don't have to have read Jerome K. Jerome's Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog) before reading this book. It is perhaps slightly more fun if you can catch the references, but the author is careful not to turn them into excluding in-jokes.
This is a comedy of time travel. We're in the future, of course, where time travel is possible and it is common to send historians back in time to research the past--and occasionally to tweak it, though it's been discovered that no one can, for example, go back in time to shoot Hitler. Nor can anything be brought forward in time---until the day Verity Kindle manages to do it. This creates an incongruity which must be fixed by Verity and fellow historian Ned Henry, who are both sent to Victorian times to straighten things out. Everything they do seems to muddle things up even more, and there are many frantic conversations about how, for example, to get two people to meet and fall in love when you know they're supposed to get married and give birth to someone important, even though right now they've both accidentally fallen in love with other people. Mysteries unravel as characters bumble. It's excellent science fiction for people who don't always enjoy science fiction.
Don't worry, by the way, about what exactly a "bishop's bird stump" is; you'll find out later, and it's not important. If you're a visual person and must picture something, picture a large, ugly, ornate vase.
Girl From the South, by Joanna Trollope (2002)
This is the first Joanna Trollope book to disappoint me. The first 33 pages or so are almost throwaway; it would be easy to get bogged down in a Londoner's take on Southern U.S. history and give up on the book. Once Tilly, Henry, William, and Susie are introduced the plot picks up, but of course then we have to travel back to the South again to mess it all up. The characters are good as usual, but the plot meanders and seems unresolved. At times it drifts into what seems like irrelevance or unnecessary sentiment; at other times it's the equivalent of being exposed to someone else's starry-eyed vacation memories. This is the sort of book I can picture the author herself being dissatisfied with, but reaching a deadline and needing to turn it in as-is.