Fun as it is to see more great films recognized, I like to speculate about which ones would make the cut if the Oscars were as they used to be and only five could score a nomination. Just for kicks, here is my ranking of this year’s Best Picture-nominated films:

10. The Kids Are All Right

Unfulfilled personal lives, career frustrations, and children growing up and becoming independent put strain on a marriage, with the result that one partner stumbles into an affair with the friend she’d turned to for support. But the couple work it out in the end, because their kids remind them of what’s important. Hasn’t this movie been made before? Several times? Just not with a lesbian couple, their sperm donor, and their children. But Oscar-worthy films should be original, and despite providing some laughs and touching moments, this one just isn’t.

The title, in my opinion, is an apt descriptor, though perhaps not in the way the filmmakers intended: the kids are lovely and will grow up to be lovely adults, no thanks to the actual adults in their lives, all of whom I found to be unlikeable by the end of the movie, even though the script does its best to make us believe they all learned a lesson, though what that lesson is I’m less sure of.

9. Winter’s Bone

This adaptation of Daniel Woodrell’s novel caught my attention because the story–an impoverished teenage girl in the Ozarks struggling to care for her younger siblings and mentally ill mother while her meth-dealing father is on the lam from the police–has echoes of one of my favorite books, Catherine Marshall’s Christy. (It even features Dale Dickey, who played Opal McHone in the short-lived Christy TV series.) Winter’s Bone is a poignant story and a fine film, well-executed in every department, particularly acting, for which it garnered two Oscar nods. However, the pacing is ponderous, which, while befitting the somber, even futile mood of the piece, unfortunately makes the film rather forgettable (with the exception of one extremely vivid and disturbing scene of a corpse’s hands being sawed off). Justly or not, Bone ultimately lacks the sparkle to make it a real Oscar winner.

**(If I could have it my way, Winter’s Bone and The Kids Are All Right wouldn’t be nominated at all, while The Town and How to Train Your Dragon would. But no one ever asks me for my opinion about these things.)**

8. The Fighter

The Kids Are All Right isn’t the only nominated film to suffer from lack of originality. Two years ago The Fighter came out, only then it was titled The Wrestler, and it was a better film the first time around. Mostly because when it’s Mickey Rourke vs. Marky Mark, the winner is obvious. Christian Bale steals the show as a crack addicted has-been who lands himself in prison, and Melissa Leo and Amy Adams hold their own against him as his trashy, foul-mouthed mother/manager and Mark Wahlberg’s bartender girlfriend, respectively (refreshing to see Amy Adams break out of her doe-eyed type-casting for a change and literally beat the crap out of another woman). A film’s actors, however, can be recognized without the movie itself garnering a nomination, although the documentary film-within-a-film motif provides a fresh framework for a tired tale, and makes it possible for a plot twist that hits the viewer like a sucker punch to the gut.

7.  Black Swan

If lack of originality is a problem for The Kids Are All Right and The Fighter, Black Swan possibly errs on the side of too much creativity. Only Inception has more twists and turns–and Black Swan could do with a bit of Inception‘ overload exposition to clear up just what the heck is going on! No, the ambiguity and confusion are part of the fun, if a movie as dark, creepy, and just plain screwed up as Black Swan can be called fun. I’d like to re-watch this one, because about half-way through I began to suspect that any image reflected in a mirror was all in Nina’s (Natalie Portman) mind. And Natalie Portman does deserve every award she’s won for this performance; hopefully they–and an Oscar–will finally allow her to shake the dust of the Star Wars trilogy off her feet.

6. Toy Story 3

I love this movie. It is indisputably one of the best movies of the year. But for me it doesn’t make it into the top five because I’m not sure how much of my love for it is dependent on the previous two Toy Story films, or how much it stands on its own. The prevailing feeling I come away from Toy Story 3 is that the film was a long goodbye from the writers, director, animators, and voice actors (and through them, vicariously, the fans) to the franchise. That’s not a criticism, really; the best movies are statements of love, and the makers of Toy Story 3 expressed thatin the universally poignant story of a young man saying goodbye to his beloved childhood playthings. It made me cry (as every Pixar film since Monsters, Inc. has made me do). But speaking of other Pixar movies, Toy Story 3 is no Up (which earned the first Best Picture nomination for an animated film since Beauty and the Beast made the top five back in 1992), and when I compare the stories and themes, I have to think Toy Story 3‘s nomination honors the Toy Story trilogy as a collective body. Which, again, is not a criticism so much as an observation; The Return of the King‘s 2004 Oscar sweep rightly recognized the achievements  Lord of the Rings franchise.

Toy Story 3 certainly will win the Best Animated Feature Film category–though I can’t help but think, for the first time, that a non-Pixar film is more deserving this year: I’d love to see How to Train Your Dragon slip past for a surprise win.

5. The Social Network

The Social Network won the Golden Globe for Best Drama and is neck-and-neck with The King’s Speech (which won the BAFTA) for the Oscar, but I almost didn’t place it in my top five. Though a fascinating and enjoyable movie, it just doesn’t scream Best Picture of the Year to me. It’s a smart film–written by Aaron Sorkin, it has to be–but not brilliant. It is, however, an important film, if for no other reason than years from now it will provide a snapshot of the increasingly isolated generation that necessitated social networking, as represented here by the character of Facebook creator Mark Zuckerberg. I say character because this isn’t a straight biopic, deviating pretty wildly from the facts and person of Zuckerberg, and I don’t think the film would have resonated with audiences if it had been an accurate depiction. The real Mark Zuckerberg might not have started Facebook because he was just trying to fit in, but the story of someone so socially inept ironically being responsible for a global social network–and managing to remain an outsider–speaks to the part of all of us that seeks connection, while at the same time making the concession that the line between relationship and mere interaction is tenuous at best.

4. True Grit

There’s something irresistible about a good Western. True Grit isn’t just a good Western, it’s got an almost Shakespearean quality about it. Maybe it’s the language, the lack of contractions that makes the (often hilarious) dialogue feel poetic and grandiose and not quite realistic for the genre, which in turns makes the characters seem like the icons of  theater. I can’t pinpoint it, exactly, but it works. As does the unusual but effective soundtrack which consists largely of piano arrangements of the hymn standard “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms”–a truly inspired choice that is not only appropriate for setting the right tone for the setting, but also provides a moral foundation to the story and underscores the transformative power of the heroes’ journey. If there could be a surprise upset for Best Picture, I’d love to see True Grit take home the prize* as a shining example of quintessential American cinema.

*My opinion of this film might be slightly influenced by the fact that I know a real-life Rooster Cogburn.

3. 127 Hours

The prospect of a gruesome amputation scene almost stopped me from watching 127 Hours, but I’m so glad I grinned and bore it. (Actually, I covered my eyes.) I also didn’t love the idea of an entire movie about one character trapped in one space, not having been a big fan of Cast Away–and that one man show was the incomparable Tom Hanks. But James Franco earns his place among the Best Actor nominees this year (no small feat, with the likes of Colin Firth and Jeff Bridges). It’s so much more than what I expected it to be–the story of a guy who did something stupid and paid for it; instead it’s the story of a smart guy with impressive survival instincts and skills who is the victim of a freak accident that makes him re-evaluate himself and his relationships. Through the use of stream-of-conscious flashbacks and hallucinations (and a quirky split-screen effect), as well as the camcorder which provides Franco’s Aron Ralston the opportunity to talk through his ordeal with a frequent self-deprecating humor, director Danny Boyle gives us a raw, unfiltered look at a man literally caught between a rock and a hard place (which is, I think, the title of Ralston’s book upon which the film is based) and his survival not only in body, but in mind and spirit as well.

2. Inception

What I love about Christopher Nolan’s movies is how he takes the central theme of his story and infuses every inch of the film with it. In Memento, the story of a man with no short-term memory, that means the entire movie happens backwards, in brief scenes. The Prestige is about the face-off between a real magician and an illusionist, so the three acts of the movie are constructed like the three acts of a magic trick. Inception, which is more like a dream than a movie, nails it by constructing the plot with the mythological and psychological aspects of dreams and visuals that feel like places and scenarios we’ve all visited in our own dreams–falling cars, stairs that lead to nowhere, upside-down corridors, zero-gravity hotel rooms…Even the narrative flows across disjointed scenes which, as Lenardo DiCaprio’s character points out, reflect how in dreams you never know how you get to a place in a dream, it simply makes sense that you’re there. An apt summary of the film, which is a truly memorable sci-fi thriller deserving of Oscar gold.

1. The King’s Speech

Even before the end titles rolled, I wanted to watch The King’s Speech over again. I didn’t–but it’s that kind of film. (My friend Sandy has seen it twelve times, though this may or may not have to do with Mr. Firth’s sex appeal.)

If True Grit is the quintessential American movie, then this film speaks of what it is to be English. In an Oscar race in which one of the biggest competitors is a film about broadcasting one’s life in potentially the most public of all forums, it’s interesting that  the other strong contender focuses on the idea of privacy–private pain, and private struggles. Though learning to open up about his emotional wounds is a crucial part of King George’s journey to overcome his stammer, it’s also made evident in the contrasting tabloid-worthy lifestyle of his elder brother that there’s virtue in not displaying one’s personal affairs for the world to see. Interestingly that’s the same idea at the heart of The Social Network: that technology necessarily changes how humans interact, but it’s up to us to determine how we allow it to change us.

And that’s where this film has the edge: The Social Network ends with ironic fragmentation, but The King’s Speech not only brings friends together, but unites a country, in one of the most rousing scenes I’ve seen in a movie. It made me proud to be English…except that I’m not. But that’s why we go to the movies, isn’t it? To be transported.

I’ll return later this week for my Oscar night predictions, but for now, what are your thoughts on this year’s films? Am I way off base? Any movies you feel were overlooked?

To my college roommates, should they be reading: how I miss you and your Oscar enthusiasm!

As all her albums do, this one captured me from the first melancholy strains of “The Holly and the Ivy”. I know, you’re thinking, “But ‘The Holly and the Ivy’ isn’t a melancholy Christmas carol!” Leave it to Loreena McKennitt to transpose a cheerful tune into a melancholy key. Unexpected, yes–but that’s what fans have come to expect from McKennitt, and the mood she sets at the beginning of the album suits the central symbol of the season–light into dark–and this theme is brilliantly rounded out with the folksy instrumental arrangement of “In the Bleak Midwinter” as the album’s final track.

My only quibble with the album is that McKennitt recycles the five tracks from her 1995 Christmas album, A Winter Garden: Five Songs for the Season, but as they’re all excellent carol arrangements/McKennitt originals, that’s not a complaint so much as bemoaning the lack of new material by this incomparable artist.

As it’s a little late to get your hands on this album before the holiday season is over, here are the videos of my favorite tracks on the album for your enjoyment, the first being a chance to see McKennitt herself performing in the recording studio (although, having had the treat of seeing her perform live, I only wish this video showed her accompanying herself on her varied assortment of instruments).

(In the course of writing this post, I discovered that Loreena McKennitt just released a new album in November. Had I known, I would have asked for it for Christmas! Well, if you have yet to get me a present…)

But it did. It always has, since the very first episode. That’s what you want from a sitcom, right? Sadly, so many sitcoms fail to do that, or they do it for a while and then in time peter out into something more along the lines of OSC (Occasional Silent Chuckle). So whenever I love a comedy, I generally approach its second season with a degree of anxiety–especially when it’s recently won an Emmy for best comedy. Thankfully, Modern Family did not disappoint (still holding my breath for Community).

Other sitcoms place stock characters in silly or far-fetched situations. Modern Family’s situations, on the other hand, are little slices of everyday life that anyone can relate to (a little bit like Seinfeld being a show about nothing)–selling the old family car, building a backyard playhouse for your toddler, watching your adolescent son take interest in girls–and the humor comes from characters who bring their own quirks into the situations: the husband tries to ease the wife’s sadness at parting with the memory-packed car by taking the family for one last (literal) drive down memory lane…but forgets all the reasons why they stopped driving that car in the first place; the parent playing voyeur to her son’s first study date is a jealous, controlling Latina mother; one of the fathers building the playhouse is a theater geek with a long history of construction disasters under his (tool) belt. Packaged in a script that doesn’t rely on punchlines and a cast with as much chemistry as a real family (and talent–five acting nominations, and a win for Eric Stonestreet), and you’ve got the recipe for pure comedic gold. And there’s always a little emotional tug, that little pull that makes you sit a little closer to your husband on the couch as you watch, in just the right dose to make you want to keep inviting this family back into your home every Wednesday night. But mostly so they can make you laugh.

While all three storylines had me in stitches, I laughed just a little bit harder at the Cameron/Mitchell arc (I always do). Favorite line: “I want to be able to look out into my yard and say, ‘There’s a little bit of me in that princess castle.”

Turns out I had more to say about Modern Family than I thought. What do you have to say about it?

Up next: Community, 30 Rock, and The Office.

In honor of the new television season, I’ll be blogging about the premieres of the shows that grace our screen here in the Burt house.

Speaking of houses, that brings us nicely to the premiere of…House M.D.

Warning: Here there be spoilers…

Basically, it was an hour of pay-off for the fans who’ve been pulling for House/Cuddy for the past six years, with an amusing B plot in which House’s team save Cuddy from an administrative nightmare while she’s off playing hooky (is that what they’re calling it these days?) with House.

Very few clothes are worn in this episode—which may or may not be a detriment, depending on how you feel about Hugh Laurie, Lisa Edelstein, and the guy playing the heavily medicated neurosurgeon (though Mr. Laurie hilariously told Ellen DeGeneres that, being British, he was uncomfortable with it).

The most accurate description I can give of the script is that it sounded like the kind of twu wubbly luv fanfiction that no doubt popped up on House/Cuddy sites during the summer hiatus. Which is not to say that I didn’t enjoy the episode. Clichéd though it was, I was touched by House’s moment of shame as Cuddy checks out his mangled leg…and kisses the scar; I grinned at House pulling out all the stops to woo Cuddy, from drawing an ill-advised bath to whipping up a gourmet breakfast (glad to see the continuity from last season’s arc where he took up cooking after he got off Vicodin); I laughed at their game of romantically-inclined Boggle; I went “aw” as House planned a weekend getaway to France. In short, I am a sap.

It might not have been a great (or even very good) premire, especially following season 6’s pitch-perfect finale, but it was satisfying—and that’s coming from a House fan who’s always been indifferent about House/Cuddy. I thought it was nice to get a moment of optimism in this ultimately jaded (but honest) show.

For me, the episode’s biggest shortcoming was the dearth of Wilson, though his one scene, in which he—of course—disbelieves that House didn’t show up to work after traumatically losing a patient because he was having sex with new girlfriend Cuddy, stole the show.

Or would have stolen the show, had Chase not topped that by propositioning Thirteen.

Speaking of whom, I really hope Thirteen’s not going AWOL for long this season, and not just because the mystery surrounding her departure is driving me crazy. She’s the most interesting member of House’s team at the moment, and I don’t understand why Taub is the one who always gets to stay around. Also, she’s going to die, anyway; let’s not lose her before we have to.

All in all I’d say it was a good start to the season. And before I go, I’ll say i hope this is the last season of House. Now that House has gotten past his drug addiction, relationships are his one hurdle (perhaps not the best metaphor for a cripple)—his relationship with Cuddy in particular. Now that they’ve going to make a go at it, there’s really nowhere else to take House. Either he’ll succeed and live somewhat happily ever after, or he’ll fail and go down as a tragic character of Shakespearean proportions.

If I were writing the show? House would ultimately succeed with Cuddy, but only after having to make the decision he should have made years ago to have his leg amputated. I’m serious. House’s leg has always been the symbol of his pain, and he’s never going to be able to make a relationship work if he can’t cut off his pain. He’s off drugs, so he can’t just numb the pain; he has to treat it at it’s source. I don’t think my theory is totally beyond the realm of possibility, either, considering last season ended with House reluctantly amputating a woman’s leg to save her life.

What do you think will happen to House? And did you like the premiere? Comment with your thoughts!

Next up: Modern Family!

Recently an expectant friend asked me what items I absolutely could not care for the Burt Squirt without. At the moment the question caught me off guard, but after mulling over it, I’ve come up with my top five must-haves.

Remember, these are my favorite things that work for my baby. Your baby might have entirely different tastes. And if there’s anything I’ve learned in my first six months of motherhood, it’s that babies are like Lolcats: they don’t hesitate to say, “DO NOT WANT!” and it’s impossible to force anything a baby DOES NOT WANT on him.

Which is why Babies R Us sells thousands of items, most of which parents will buy in the hope that at least one of them will make childcare a little easier.

Bag Balm

Developed by farmers to treat chapped cow udders, Bag Balm is not only more effective than Desitin at treating the mother of all diaper rashes, it’s also far more affordable than the more potent creams, such as Bourdeaux’s Butt Paste. I paid $12.99 for Bag Balm at a local pharmacy (though Google tells me you can get it for less) when the Burt Squirt was about three weeks old; five months later we still haven’t used it all–and that’s with a liberal smear up the butt crack every diaper change. (In our house, that’s 6-8 diaper changes a day, 31 days a month, for 5 months…I’ll let you do the math.)

I’ve been told that Bag Balm also works for mommies experiencing discomfort from breastfeeding. Though I don’t think I’d recommend treating lady parts from the same jar used on baby bottoms (however cute they may be)!

Also, if you do put it to your own use, you might want to forget it was developed by farmers to treat chapped cow udders…

bébéPOD

The Burt Squirt has nearly outgrown his bébéPOD–a source of much sorrow in our household, as the bébéPOD allows Mr. Burt and me to eat dinner without having to hold a baby who wants to be sitting up and a part of the action like a big boy. It may seem like one of those superfluous purchases–why not just pop him in a high chair, swing, or bouncy seat?–but the Burt Squirt won’t sit in any of those for the duration of a meal. I think it’s because they require him to be strapped in, while the bébéPOD allows him to sit up free of restraint.

There’s a similar product on the market called the Bumbo, and honestly I’m not sure one is superior to the other. We chose the bébéPOD over the Bumbo because the wider leg holes and all-around less restrictive design accommodate our chunky child; he would have outgrown a Bumbo before he was two months old.

A tip: Search children’s consignment shops or craigslist instead of buying new. The “plus” version with the tray retails for around $50, but we picked ours up sans tray for $15. Later we decided we wanted the tray and purchased one at Babies R Us for around $12. (Alas and alack, it didn’t come with one of the adorable kiwi placemats.) But you can find the ones with trays used, too.

Boppy

Of course you can breastfeed without a nursing pillow, or you can use any old pillow to give your baby the boost he or she needs to get to the goods. I never nurse without a pillow because, at not quite six months, the Burt Squirt weighs over 18 pounds and just about breaks my arms during nursing sessions that can last up to half an hour. And I don’t use any old pillow because I find it awkward.

A Boppy fits around my waist to provide a comfortable and stable prop for nursing. And did I mention it frees up your hands? You wouldn’t know it from the pictures of nursing mothers cuddling their babies (making me wonder why they’re bothering with a Boppy at all), but you really can do it hands-free! The Burt Squirt actually prefers I nurse him hands-free; he has a conniption if I touch his head while he’s eating, which eliminates a couple of nursing holds.

Breastfeeding eats up (heh) a ton of time, especially in the beginning when your baby is learning how to nurse. Why not reclaim some of that time for yourself? Thanks to my Boppy, I’ve been able to eat dinner while nursing (even at a table, with friends and family), read books, play board games, and use my computer. If I weren’t able to do these things, I’d have completely lost my mind somewhere around day one of motherhood. It’s nice to be able to stay sane–and retain a semblance of the woman I was BBS (Before Burt Squirt)–while still doing the best thing for my baby.

Exersaucer

God bless the person who invented the Exersaucer, without which we would never eat a home-cooked meal or have clean toilets. The Burt Squirt is too big for his britches and could stand up for hours, but he’s not yet able to do that without Mommy or Daddy holding on to him. We do, of course, but sometimes you’ve just got to let go of your kid for a few minutes so you can fix yourself a sandwich or get dressed.

There are lots of different Exersaucers that feature a variety of activities. When choosing, consider ones with fewer electronic components and more activities–things to grab, spin, chew on, pull, pick up, turn, flip, shake, rattle. Also, get an Exersaucer that fits your baby. We tried one Exersaucer when the Burt Squirt was around three months old, and his arms were too short to reach out for any of the toys on the tray portion–which was a bit of a problem because it was only a tray portion! We went with this model because of there were plenty of toys within arm’s reach (also, because expectant friends offered to let us borrow it till their twins are old enough to use it), and the rest he grew into over time.  The Exersaucer has actually been a fun way to track the Burt Squirt’s growth, and nothing makes you feel prouder as a parent than seeing how proud he is whenever he can finally reach that toy he’s been trying to get for a few weeks.

Except maybe when you manage to clean a kitchen and bathroom and dust your living room while your baby “Exersauces” for a solid 40 minutes.

Vtech Move and Crawl Ball

When we received this as a baby shower gift I was a little skeptical, but the Move and Crawl ball has turned out to be one of our favorite baby toys. In fact it was the first toy that really engaged the Burt Squirt, as, I’ll remind you, he thinks he’s a bigger boy than he is.  He was never a fan of lying on his back reaching for dangling toys in his baby gym, and, when he began to sit unassisted at a little before four months, the ball provided something easy to play with in an upright position. I think it actually helped develop his sense of balance and gave him some core strength.

The other thing I love about the Move and Crawl Ball is that, unlike a lot of other baby toys, the buttons respond readily to those uncoordinated, light baby finger touches. If a baby can’t make something work, he’ll quickly lose interest, but the Burt Squirt’s ability to interact with his ball keeps him entertained pretty much until the cat runs into his field of vision and distracts him. But even Mommy can’t compete with the cat…

Mommy (and Daddy) readers: what are your favorite baby things?

Two books a month is a fine average even if I weren’t a mom, but I’d never have managed to read one book in five months if Mr. Burt hadn’t given me a Sony Pocket Reader for our sixth wedding anniversary.  The only time I get to read is when I’m nursing, and it’s not easy to hold a book and turn pages while wrangling a squirming baby. An ebook reader, however, requires only one free hand.   I’ve grown so accustomed to reading this way that I don’t see myself ever going back to print books, with the exception of when I want to take a long soak in the bathtub with a book. But where my friend didn’t have a chance to read till her son was two, I don’t foresee myself getting a chance to take a bath till then.

Also, when I use my reader, I feel like I’m in Star Trek.

One intent for my revamped blog has been to post reviews for every book I read, but I’m beginning to get the feeling I won’t get that kind of time for a few years, either. Until then, a blurb and a five star rating system will have to do.

#1: Emma, by Jane Austen

The BBC’s latest adaptation stars Romola Garai, who, along with the rest of the cast, seemed all wrong to me. So I re-read the book and was reassured that yes, the cast of the Kate Beckinsale version feels more like the characters in the book. Which is what I’m supposed to be reviewing.

With its hilariously entangled romances and witty social commentary, Emma reads like a Shakespearean comedy. Its strength, of course, is the heroine Austen set out to write as one “whom no-one but myself will much like,” but it’s the supporting characters you love to hate and hate to love who really make the novel for me.

Rating: 5/5 stars

#2: Mr. Knightley’s Diary, by Amanda Grange

Normally I avoid published Austen fanfiction like the cliché I’m avoiding at the moment, but last Christmas I picked up Colonel Brandon’s Diary on a whim because, well, Colonel Brandon…and I loved it. I don’t feel as strongly about Mr. Knightley’s Diary, through no fault of Ms. Grange; Knightley’s (if I may sound like Mrs. Elton) backstory of managing his estate and dining with friends doesn’t make for the page-turner Brandon’s torrid past love affair, military stint, and duel to the death. It is, however, entertaining to get inside Knightley’s head as he stews over Emma’s fascination with Frank Churchill, and the moment he realizes he’s in love with her is sweetly romantic, if not earth-shattering. A light-hearted, well-written, satisfying love story, and if you like the citizens of Highbury, a nice opportunity to visit them again. (An unexpected but welcome touch is a happy ending for poor Miss Bates.) 

Rating: 4/5 stars

#3: Mr. Darcy’s Diary, by Amanda Grange

If I hadn’t read other Amanda Grange novels, I’d never have picked up published Pride and Prejudice fanfiction, which typically amounts to little more than soft core Darcy porn. Like Ms. Grange’s other books, Mr. Darcy’s Diary keeps true to the spirit of Austen’s work and, in this case, enriches a character who doesn’t do much for me in the original. That’s right ladies: I’ve never been a Darcy fangirl. (Have I mentioned it’s Colonel Brandon who holds my heart?) But Pride and Prejudice from Darcy’s point of view at times left me almost breathless. It also cemented my rather unorthodox opinion that Matthew Macfadyen makes a better Darcy than Colin Firth. *ducks from hurled objects*

Rating: 5/5 stars

#4: A Proper Pursuit, by Lynne Austin

I picked this one up because I was in the mood for something lighthearted and romantic; a young woman choosing between a number of suitors and on the hunt for a runaway mother amid the backdrop of the 1893 World’s Fair seemed to fit the bill: a bit like American Girl all grown up. It started off promisingly enough, with a heroine whose stream-of-conscious internal monologue made me chuckle a la Anne of Green Gables. However, the narrative voice quickly got old as the story failed to move forward—not a bit like Anne of Green Gables. The characters were painted with the broadest of brush strokes, the romantic plot was predictable while the mystery was clumsily constructed and revealed through hasty exposition, and the parts that were meant to be heart-wrenching were cloying and preachy; more than once I felt like the author was attempting, unsuccessfully, to reproduce Christy. (Are you starting to detect a theme of this book trying to be like other, best-selling books?) Still, I did read the whole thing, if only because I wanted to see if all my guesses about the plot were right in the end (which they were). That’s something, I guess?

Rating: 2/5 stars

#5: Persuasion, by Jane Austen

A second chance at love for an older couple who just couldn’t make it work the first time around may be Austen’s best storyline.  Unfortunately, it’s not a very good book. Much of the crucial action happens off-stage, reduced to summarizing narrative. While this stylistic choice highlights the reserve and compliance of the heroine, not actually seeing Anne’s first encounter with Captain Wentworth undercuts the emotional impact that should be present when a woman meets her former fiance, with whom she is still in love, eight years after breaking off their engagement.  It’s the equivalent of Austen recounting the Netherfield ball instead of showing Elizabeth and Darcy’s dance and their glorious UST.  I root for the idea of Anne and Wentworth, but my imagination isn’t captured by characters I feel I know. The character I feel I know best is Anne’s hypochondriac sister, Mary Musgrove, who seems to have more dialogue than all the other characters put together.  (Though I do tend to have a soft spot for Austen’s obnoxious characters.)

The novel does contain my favorite line out of all Austen’s novels, Captain Wentworth’s achingly romantic “you pierce my soul.”  Guh.

Rating: 3/5 stars

#6: Sarah’s Key, by Tatiana De Rosnay

It doesn’t sound quite right to say you enjoy Holocaust novels or are a fan of them, so I’ll instead say I read a lot of them. Sarah’s Key introduced me to the tragedy of the French expulsion of Jews, which was carried out not by the occupying Nazi soldiers, but by the French police force. The narrative alternates between Sarah and her parents’ horrifying arrest and deportation while a little brother is left behind, and Julia, a journalist who discovers Sarah’s story while researching an assignment on the 60th anniversary of the French Holocaust. Frankly, I could have lived without the Julia storyline, which detracts from Sarah’s story with that of a rather unsympathetic, navel-gazing character dealing with a crumbling marriage and surprise middle-age pregnancy. I did appreciate how the Holocaust played as a background for an anti-abortion tale, but the two stories simply lack the cohesion and thematic focus to bring them together in a satisfying conclusion.

Rating: 3/5 stars.

7: Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet, by Jamie Ford

This is the epic teen romance that should be sweeping the globe: a Chinese boy constantly bullied at his all-white school befriends a Japanese girl just as the US passes legislation to relocate citizens of Japanese descent to internment camps. Who needs sparkly vampires and werewolves to thwart love?

The writing does this beautiful story justice; vivid but not overly wordy description takes you back in time to Seattle, 1942, to the cluttered streets of Chinatown, Japantown, and the desolate internment camps. The characters are people—noble people, flawed people, strong people, weak people, people with motivations, people who act senselessly…Both place and character reminded me of the work of one of my favorite authors, Jhumpa Lahiri, whose stories focus on the differences between first and second generation Indian-Americans. I suppose I’m drawn to themes of cultural and racial identity and generational conflict, all of which charge Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet.

I learned a lot from this book, too, which is always a plus for a history lover. It goes to show how one-track our history studies in the US are that it had never occurred to me that there would be conflict between the Chinese and Japanese in America, particularly bitter hatred on the part of Chinese immigrants, many of whom left China precisely because of Japan’s relentless assault on China for decades prior to the US entering World War II. Not that racism and cultural discrimination are ever acceptable; but I think of a line from Harry Potter: “the world isn’t made up of good people and Death Eaters.” Life isn’t black and white, and insult, injury, and injustice have a way of leading otherwise good people to participate in evil. Another historical aspect that struck me as particularly poignant was the dignity of the Japanese characters even as their every right as American citizens was violated. I hadn’t realized how the Japanese volunteered to build their own prisons and serve in the US military to prove their loyalty. That same inner doggedness that turned out Kamakaze pilots fueled truly honorable US citizenship. I think all these things struck me because the same issues of race and politics of America in 1942 continue to be eerily relevant in 2010. (Why can’t we ever learn?)

Interestingly, like Sarah’s Key, this novel is also told in an alternating timeline. Only in this time, it works, as we follow the same character in two different decades as the events of the war years continue to haunt him forty years later.

The best book I’ve read in a long time, and one I’m sure to read again and again.

Rating: 5/5 stars

8: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, by Lewis Carroll

I think I’m supposed to say something about Alice being a timeless children’s classic, only I’m not sure what kids today think of it. There’s no plot, and a lot of the references to the English court system and poems Victorian schoolchildren would have learned go right over my head, and I have a degree in English lit. Or maybe there’s so much nonsense in it that kids love it, anyway. I guess I’ll just have to read it with the Burt Squirt and report back then.

I do have a soft spot for Alice because I watched the 1985 miniseries hundreds of times as a child. And I can still sing “Jam Tomorrow.”

This time, the Kate Beckinsale version is not the one to watch.

Rating: 5/5 stars

9: Speaker for the Dead, by Orson Scott Card

The Ender series is the first sci-fi I’ve ever read, and I’d definitely read more, if that’s any indication of how I like the Ender books. It takes a bit of adjusting to get into Speaker for the Dead, which picks up 3000 years after Ender’s Game and doesn’t answer a lot of questions about what happened after the first book. However, you’re immediately drawn into an intriguing mystery about some creepy aliens on the planet Lusitania, and the plot never loses momentum even when it comes careening to the end.

I do have several fairly major criticisms. The book suffers from a dearth of sympathetic characters. Understandable, when you’re dealing with a dysfunctional family, which is crucial to the plot and, indeed, part of the whole concept of Ender being “Speaker for the Dead”—one who speaks, the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth about people. Still, it’s a bit of a struggle for me to fully connect with so many characters who either continually make stupid choices (which, granted, facilitate the plot) or are downright unlikeable. Though supercomputer Jane is pretty awesome; not far into the book I decided that her fate, alone, would make or break the book for me. Another problem with the characterization, though, is that Card is guilty of the telling vs. showing crime. Maybe the genre necessitates a bit of foregoing character-driven scenes in favor of plot? Because I so thoroughly enjoy these books, I’m beginning to re-think that hard and fast stance somewhat. Also, when writing a series, a certain amount of summary of events in previous books is inevitable to keep readers up to speed, but Card isn’t an author who does this particularly well. At times the clunky writing pulls me out of the story.

Even with those flaws, I was unable to put down Speaker for the Dead for the two weeks I was reading it. And as soon as I finished, I immediately went on to the next one.

Rating: 4/5 stars

10. Xenocide, by Orson Scott Card

It’s actually a little difficult to review this one, because the fourth book in the Ender quartet, Children of the Mind, is less its own book than a continuation of Xenocide. Still have problems with the unlikeable characters in this one, though a new, fascinating, and sympathetic set is introduced so I have to conclude that Card intentionally wrote the Ribeira family that way and isn’t simply bad at characterization. This one gets awfully expositional as the sci-fi plot unfolds, but again, I think a certain amount of that has to be overlooked in sci-fi. At least it helped me understand what was going on even as my mind was being blown, and made me want to keep reading. And by the end I’d decided that Xenocide was my favorite of the series so far.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Did I mention that all these books-and more-fit on my Sony Pocket Reader?

What have you been reading?

Recently several girlfriends and I organized a book club.  Our first read was Persuasion, which I’ve had recommended to me many times as Jane Austen’s best work.

Having now read it, I must disagree.

The story — a second chance at love for an older couple who just couldn’t make it work the first time around — may be her best.  The style?  In my opinion, not so much.

One of the qualities I like about Austen in general is how accessible her novels are to today’s readers.  Pride and Prejudice, Emma, and Northanger Abbey, for example, read easily, primarily through lots of dialogue that both tells the stories and develops the characters.  It’s the style I’d come to expect from Austen (and, I have to admit, the style of contemporary novel I prefer).

That said, the divergence from the dialogue-heavy style of Austen’s earlier work took me by surprise in Persuasion. While the prose passages are impeccably written and packed with Austen’s wit, they nonetheless exemplify telling versus showing — the ultimate writing mistake, by today’s standards.  I appreciate that the “rules” of writing have evolved over time as the way people live and read has changed, but even bearing that in mind, I found it difficult to connect with the characters of Persuasion because of it.

Much of the crucial action happens off-stage and is merely summarized  in narrative after the fact.  I suppose on one hand this stylistic choice highlights the reserve and compliance of the heroine, Anne.  On the other, not actually seeing Anne’s first encounter with Captain Wentworth undercuts the emotional impact that should be present when a woman meets her former fiance, with whom she is still in love, eight years after breaking off their engagement.  Imagine if Austen had simply recounted the Netherfield ball instead of showing Elizabeth and Darcy’s dance and their glorious UST.  You wouldn’t root for them to get together in the end, would you?  That’s how I felt reading about Anne and Wentworth.  I rooted for the idea of them, but my imagination wasn’t captured by characters I felt I knew; they remained names whose personalities eluded me.

One character in the novel I did feel I saw rather than merely heard about is Anne’s hypochondriac sister, Mary Musgrove.  I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she also seems to have more dialogue than any other character.  Even though she’s meant to be tiresome and obnoxious with her constant bellyaching and oblivion to her sisters-in-law’s attempts to avoid her company, she became my favorite character purely on the basis that I knew who she was amid a bunch of virtual strangers.

While I’d rank Persuasion as my least favorite Austen novel (though I have yet to read Mansfield Park), I must concede that it contains my favorite line out of all her works, Captain Wentworth’s achingly romantic “you pierce my soul.”  Guh.

I’ll also repeat that I really like the story, especially after viewing the 1995 film, which rights the wrongs of the novel because the media of film necessarily shows instead of tells. Captain Wentworth’s bitterness and inability to get over Anne are so much more clear to me as performed by Ciarán Hinds.  

On a related note, Persuasion must be one of the more difficult Austen novels to adapt, precisely because of the lack of actual dialogue in the book.  Lots of work required on the part of the screenwriter to create Austen-like dialogue.  I want to say that in the Sense and Sensibility commentary, screenwriter Emma Thompson mentioned that she considered adapting Persuasion (though I might be misremembering; she might have mentioned that a Persuasion film came out the same year as her S&S).  In any case, I’d love to see what she could do with it, as S&S is not only my favorite Austen film, but my favorite movie ever!

Austen enthusiasts and Persuasion fans, do comment and tell me why I’m wrong about this book.