The Mayhem That Followed

After finishing Wine & War last month, my ever-present WWII obsession had gained a lot of momentum. So I finally picked up a copy of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas by John Boyne, which I'd been meaning to read since this past fall when it came highly recommended by someone in my writing for children class.

The perfect cover, no? (x)

This one was definitely worth the wait. I knew very little going into it and I'm glad for it, because it made quite the impact. I finished it a few days ago, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't still weighing heavily on my heart. I don't think it was until the final two chapters that I saw where things were going and when I did, I shouted, "No!" at the pages to little effect. It snowballed very quickly and I just sat there paralyzed with shock at the end.

What John Boyne managed to do was incredible. Seeing the war from the perspective of a nine year-old boy whose father is promoted by the Fury (Führer) himself? Brilliant. Little details like these painted the picture of Bruno's heart and mind perfectly. For example, at one point he salutes his father when turning to leave the room: “Heil Hitler," he said, which, he presumed, was another way of saying, "Well, goodbye for now, have a pleasant afternoon.” From start to finish, Bruno thinks they've relocated to a place called Out-With. But watching what's happening in the changing world around him, conversations and events that he can't begin to understand, it doesn't take long for you to realize where he really is. His naivety throughout the story is utterly heartbreaking in contrast to the Nazis sifting in and out of his new home and their influence on his older sister Gretel. 

Somehow he manages to stay true to himself, because in his childlike innocence, he is living entirely in his own world. The world around him changes, but his doesn't. Perhaps that's why it's so easy for him to form an unlikely friendship with a boy in striped pajamas on the other side of the fence. 

In the afterword, the author details his belief that you can't really grasp the horrors of the camps unless you look at it through the eyes of a child. This story really couldn't be told from any other view point. Striking and poignant, it's a quick read that will leave you thinking for days afterward.

Hold My Hand Because I Might Disappear

"Wow! Oh wow!" It's not often that I have this reaction to the ending of a book, much less say it out loud. Despite the whole of Jellicoe Road, especially the final page, being full of sad, I actually squealed. How I didn't burst into tears is kind of miraculous. And how Melina Marchetta was able to weave together two separate tales so seamlessly is just plain magical. But more than just the stories, it was the weaving together of pure joy and unadulterated grief that was even more astounding. And, of course, it reads like an absolute dream:

I remember love. It's what I have to keep reminding myself. It's funny how you can forget everything except people loving you. Maybe that's why humans find it so hard getting over love affairs. It's not the pain they're getting over, it's the love.

Numerous love stories are scattered throughout the book. And I love that. Sometimes I feel like secondary characters are shoved into muted lifestyles where they're exempt from romantic or meaningful relationships, because it will somehow shadow or take away from the main character's experience. I'm always wanting more relationships whether it's on the main stage or in aisles or tucked away in the foyer. I like knowing that love is flourishing all around in all it's forms. So with all these characters feeling deeply, this was a true delight.

That being said, I need to just take a moment and... Jonah Griggs! AHHHHHDFJLSDFSK JONAH GRIGGS!!!!!!! Bookmark him as your next fictional boyfriend, ladies. He comes into the scene so tough and prickly, but his transformation in Taylor's eyes is dazzling. He's there for her in a way that no one else can be, with his past peering around every corner just like hers. Their chemistry is magnetic and consuming, their first kiss is the best! thing! ever!, but romance takes a back seat to their journey. It's so refreshing. And he's so... mmph! I can't even tell you! I don't want to spoil the kiss by quoting it here, so instead I'll just share one little moment I loved. It's as simple as Jonah ordering Taylor's breakfast when she's too overwhelmed to speak. White toast with marmalade and hot chocolate. He doesn't need to ask her what she wants. He just knows. It was just the sweetest! So sweet that I got a craving for the exact same thing and promptly pulled on my running shoes to dash down to the corner store to pick up a jar of marmalade.

Attempting to cure my book hangover with toast and marmalade, hot chocolate, and Jane Eyre.

Today we had a snow day sans actual snow. So while it was sleeting nonstop, I was curled up with characters like Taylor Markham and Jonah Griggs, Webb, Fitz, Tate, Narnie, and Jude. Characters so alive that you feel like if you were to reach your hand under the table, they'd interlace their fingers with yours just to say, 'I'm here. I've got you.' What separates this story, a mysterious tale of love and redemption, past, present, and future is something quite extraordinary, I think. For the past two years I've been keeping a record of every book I've read and written a little blurb about what I thought. After staring at the page for a while, the explanation for my reaction to this book was simple, but big. "This book has a soul." I, for one, can't think of a better kind of novel to pass a non-snow day with.

Read it. Maybe invest in some marmalade first. But read it.

Hiding, Fibbing, and Fobbing Off

The past few weekends I've been running around nonstop. There were endless things that needed to get done, people coming to town, and that hovering feeling of how-do-I-have-zero-time-to-myself. So with a drizzly Saturday in Baltimore and no check lists to speak of, I finally treated myself to a day spent in bed catching up on my reading.

Currently on a chapter detailing how French POWs used wine to blackmail their guards.

I'm juggling a few books at the moment, but the standout is definitely Wine & War by Don and Petie Kladstrup. A self-professed fiction junkie, I tend to steer clear of nonfiction. But this one's been taunting me on my bookshelf for years and it reads as smoothly as the wines it describes. Besides the obvious of bringing two of my favorite topics together, wine and WWII, it's absolutely riveting. There are countless stories of how the French hid their wine from the Nazis or passed off inferior wines as the greats and how the industry itself became essential to the Resistance. Each chapter leaves me feeling a little more tipsy than the last and itching to plan my next adventures in France, perhaps bumping along Burgundy's wine road or swishing reds in the caves beneath Bordeaux. 

Despite being in the middle of a great read, I couldn't help popping over to my local library. While you'll find stacks of books teetering in every nook and cranny of my bedroom (one day I'll house them where they belong... in a library with a rolling ladder in the chateau on my vineyard in la belle France), there's just something about having a few piled up on your nightstand... something about books that don't belong to you. 

What are you reading these days?

As though bitten by R himself...

Well folks, that book hangover hasn't budged... one... bit. I can hardly bring myself to read anything else and it's been over a week. Basically, I feel like I've lost a limb. Like I am a zombie! If something doesn't change soon, I'll be in serious danger of a fiction coma. As you'll see, things have gotten pretty dire...

Here's a haiku:

Why will no one see

the film Warm Bodies with me?

Dear friends, that's so lame.

Here's a doodle:

R & Julie

Why does a cure for zombie-ism seem so much more likely than a cure for this book hangover? Somebody help! Can't you hear me 'SOS'?! Before you know it, I'm going to be posting zombie fan fiction and playlists and how-to tutorials for zombie bride makeup! I need epic life-saving book suggestions! Some kind of distraction! Links of Louis from One Direction smirking in slow motion, recordings of Richard Armitage's dirty summer rain voice, DIY projects to aid homeless kitties, something- anything!

Warm Bodies & That Ever Elusive Book Hangover

It's an unfortunate truth that books that leave you face to face with an oh-gosh-what-will-I-do-now black hole upon turning their final page are few and far between. Last year I read 34 books, which is pretty good for me considering I'm such... a slow... rea... der... Sadly, only three of these books left me with a book hangover. You know the feeling; it's what you always hope will happen at the end of any book you pick up. Even if the story concludes beautifully, you stare down at the pages a bit shell shocked. How could you possibly read anything after this? How will you survive without the constant company of these characters you grew to love so much? How will you ever pick up a pen again? This, quite unexpectedly, is what happened when I finished Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion last week.

Honestly. Who knew? As someone who has repeatedly professed their aversion to zombies (you know, because it's very important to have strong opinions regarding fictitious beings), it's a miracle that I sought out this book. But I was curious and thank goodness for that!

Purchase here.

Two lines. The two opening lines. "I am dead, but it's not so bad. I've learned to live with it." That was all it took. I was hooked. What's more, I had a sneaking suspicion that I was going to fall madly in love with it. Despite the main character R being rather slow to talk as a zombie, his thoughts are beautifully stitched together. "I long for exclamation marks, but I'm drowning in ellipses." R has such a clear strong voice from the very start and you can't help pressing your hand to your heart as he stumbles through sentences and his very existence.

Enter Julie, a scrappy teenager sent out from the safe confines of a nearby stadium on a mission to find medical supplies. The search is interrupted by a band of hungry zombies, R included. R promptly kills her boyfriend, but when he eats his brains, he relives a few brief moments of Perry's life. More specifically, moments spent with Julie. So when R comes to and finds himself face to face with this girl, he spares her and brings her to live with the zombies at the abandoned airport. There, not only does he begin to feel, but he begins to change. He wants to change. 

My reflex is to shrug. The shrug has been my default response for so long. But as I lie there on the floor with her worried eyes looking down at me, I remember the feeling that jolted through me the moment I woke up yesterday, that feeling of No! and Yes! That feeling of anti-shrug.

And so, because he wants to change, he does. He finds a way to communicate, piecing together lyrics of Sinatra songs on a salvaged record player, and something to fight for i.e. protecting Julie. And, just give me a moment, because I just loved all the Sinatra references:

Yes, she knows what I am and what I do, but do I have to remind her? Can we just have a nice drive and forget certain things for a while? In the sunny fields of my imagination we are not a teenager and a walking corpse driving in a rainstorm. We are Frank and Ava cruising treelined country lanes while a scratchy vinyl orchestra swoons our soundtrack.

Not only was this story a refreshing take on Romeo and Juliet, it was refreshing period. I can't remember the last time I was so fascinated by a character. I found myself ogling at R and whispering, "What are you?" just like Julie. He made for such a surprising hero. He wants the world to change, so he starts the change within himself. It's heartfelt, broken, laugh-out-loud funny, risky, unique, and it had me wrapped around its pretty little finger from start to finish. And when I finished... it's embarrassing to type out loud, but I must have hugged it to my chest for a solid half hour. I then immediately went to Amazon and ordered a copy to keep forever, because I can't call my collection complete without it. Read it! Read it! Read it!

But now that it's over... No other book seems to stick! I haven't had a book hangover this bad in ages. Any recommendations?

(x)

P.S. I can't wait to see the film and truly believe Nicholas Hoult is the absolute perfect choice for R!