Suffice it to say, I read a lot of books, we all know this to be a fact. The past 5 monthes or so(almost 6 I guess), I've read approximately 21(my book list isn't currently on me)novels. This project has forced me to read a lot too, and I definitely have had my fair share of surprises when it comes to how I like certain of the novels I've encountered. However, this year, I've faced a lot of "meh, that was oh-kay"s, and nothing that really made me say "THIS IS WHY I FUCKING READ!!!!" Well, I think I've found my FAVORITE BOOK OF 2007 thus far. It's March by Geraldine Brooks. Winner of the 2006 Pulitzer prize, I had it via the hold list through the Seattle Public Library. I was reading it purely because it won an award, not necessarily because it held any super important interest to me, though it does have an interesting premise. In Louisa May Alcott's Little Women, the March girls and their mother struggle to to stay strong and support themselves while their father is absent in the Civil War. Brooks' novel takes threads from Alcott's novel and weaves them into an entirely different story, the imagined one of the March girls' father as he is away from his loved ones. I've read so many books lately with male protagonists, I wasn't that eager to read yet another one. But, Brooks' prose is astonishing, and the character of Mr. March is so fascinatingly human, I found myself holding my breath because I was too enraptured to let it go. We are introduced to a slightly soul shattered Captain March, after one of his fellow soldiers drowns while they are trying to, together, escape the enemy, it is only a beginning of the atrocities of war that he is forced to witness throughout the course of the work. We then begin to learn about Mr. March's stance on slavery and his ideals and how they brought him into the war, his self-described failings leading him to take part in this confused national conflict so as to almost make up for what he has lost. What he realizes of course, in the course of the novel, is that despite all of one person's efforts, s/he is only one person and is thus gravely limited. And, while coming to terms with this, he is constantly plagued by memory AND a great deal of guilt. Brooks' main character is a man, but a very sensitive one, a vegetarian(almost entirely vegan actually, which at this time period must have been at the very least EXTREMELY difficult and not necessarily healthy) at pretty much all levels because he does not believe in the harming of animals at all, that everything that is a product of them, whether it be flesh, milk or even wool is the property of the animal from whence it came. That was impressive. The character himself has flaws, though; in an effort to protect his very outspoken and feminist(yay!) wife, he tries to curb her outbursts, and is upset when she does not appear to be the model wife and lady, even when those outbursts and passionate embraces of the issues were what drew him to her in the first place. And, Mr. March's head is so wrapped up in his books and so far up in the clouds that when he finally has to encounter reality it is so very painful to read about. Brooks' prose depicts such atrocities of slavery and war that make them real, sickeningly so, but worth it to remind us not only how far we have come, but how much further we need to go. What was definitely disheartening but of course at the time probably all too true, was Brooks' depiction of the Union soldiers...March expected them all to believe in the emancipation of the slaves as much as he did, but when he encounters as much prejudice and lack of assistance with his cause as he did in antebellum South, it is a harsh wake-up call not only to him but to the reader as well. History books tend to romanticize the Civil War, making the North to be the good guys who could do no wrong, who were fighting for what was right. The truth is far different. Images in the novel swirled in my imagination as I tried to sleep this whole(fittingly)Memorial Day weekend, images that I would love to forget, but need to remember. The other thing that I found kind of fun about this book, is that much of March's memory refers back to his home life in Concord, Mass. Emily, Chris and I went there last summer as part of our National Park rendezvous. It was amazing to see the landscape come alive through my own memory. One of the national parks (Minuteman) bordered the Alcott's property. I found out at the end of the novel, that the author(as described in the afterword) based the character of Mr. March on Louisa May Alcott's father, Bronson Alcott, so to have seen the town of Concord and the lands surrounding Alcott's property became a relevant part of my book project without me even knowing it at the time. I'm sure this coincidence will happen again and again as I visit more national parks and read more Pulitzer prize winners, since the Pulitzer is an award given to a book that depicts an "American experience." And Marmee, who in Louisa May's book is depicted as this perfect self-sacrificing mother is not so in Brooks' light...she too is all too human. Yes! There is also much discussed of how time can change a relationship and how a desire not to hurt that whom you truly love can also unfortunately sometimes create distance. All of this crammed into a 280 page novel. Maybe now you'll have a glimpse as to why I was so impressed. I love books that make me think, but also make me cry out for characters, become worried, and so emotionally attached to the work that I am felt drained at the end. That is a great literary experience. Before I went to bed last night I thought hard about the book and what it meant, how it portrayed things etc. It reminded me of a quote that I love by Abraham Lincoln. He said "If you look for the bad in mankind, expecting to find it, you surely will." That unfortunately is too hopeful even for a great leader. Brooks' novel reminded me of the truly bitter truth that evil is everywhere, you don't even have to go looking. Something that Mr. March learns as well. It is a hard lesson his wife learns as well, especially when she sees her ruined(emotionally and physically) husband in the hospital. A quote that I loved from the book comes from Marmee after she has seen her husband again for the first time in almost a year. "But I said none of this a year ago, when it might have mattered. It was easy then to convince one's conscience that the war would be over in ninety days, as the president said; to reason that the price paid in blood would justify the great good we were so sure we would obtain. To lift the heel of cruel oppression from the necks of the suffering! Ninety days of war seemed a fair payment. What a corrupt accounting it was. I still believe that removing the stain of slavery is worth some suffering--but whose? If our forefathers make the world awry, must our children be the ones who pay to right it? (Brooks 210)" My other favorite quote comes from the black woman from March's past who he has quite the obsession with. He meets up with her before he is reunited with his family, claiming that he can't go home because he is so ashamed of all the wrongs that have been committed as a result of some poor choices on his part. She in turn tells him of things that have befallen because of choices she made and how she too has "experience with a conscience that flays [her] alive, every waking day". She says to him "I do not ask your absolution, I simply ask you to see that there is only one thing to do when we fall, and that is to get up, and go on with the life that is set in front of us, and try to do the good of which our hands are capable for the people who come in our way. That, at least, has been my path" (Brooks 268). Mr. Lincoln, I say you can't help the bad in mankind, but you can try with your measly two hands to assuage whatever wounds with a small measure of kindness. READ THIS BOOK. IT'S WONDERFUL, and VERY DESERVING OF THE PRIZE. THANK GOD. Pulitzers-26, GGs-26.

So, I haven't had the time to write for a while, sadly enough...I've been behind in my reading, busy with the new job, Keren's bday, a wedding(yay!)and the thus necessary trip to Victoria. But in only about a week, I finished two books, both wonderful, both needed to be read for the project that this blog is dedicated to...I finished Richard Ford's The Sportswriter last week and today(only a few minutes ago actually) I finished Peter Behrens' The Law of Dreams. I realized last night, while at the tail end of Behrens' book(the 2006 winner of the Governor General), it's been a really long time since I've read a book by a woman (in 8 books as a matter of fact)! Though, the next one I read(pretty sure it will be March by Geraldine Brooks, the Pulitzer winner in 2006). The Sportswriter is the first in a trilogy by Richard Ford, the second book was the one that won the Pulitzer...I had to read The Sportswriter first, of course to know what the second one would be all about...Ford is an amazing writer, even about a topic that I wasn't sure I would be into...Middle-aged male angst, dreaminess, restlessness. What I thought at the time, though, and still do(though I have yet to read the second book), is that Ford's main character, Frank Bascombe, is like a male version of me in so many aspects...His dreaminess, lost in thought constantly, people watcher, impromptu person to whom one feels compelled to confess(a neighbor confesses his gay affair and then kills himself, directing his only correspondence to the outside world to Frank, though that kind of blows the end). Frank is constantly in self-reflection, self-meditation(ironically or not, similar to the character of Fergus in Behrens' novel), and his outlook, inspired mostly by his sheer loneliness(also something that Fergus shares) reminds me so much of my own thoughts...In both novels, I found so many human truths, put into words either through the thoughts or spoken words of the characters via the authors' tones. There was so much in Ford's book that was marvelous, though the last page was what was fabulous(and I'm excited to read the 2nd book, too)..."I walked out of the condos onto the flat lithesome beach this morning, and took a walk in my swimming trunks and no shirt on. And I thought that one natural effect of life is to cover you in a thin layer of...what? A film? A residue or skin of all the things you've done and been and said and erred at? I'm not sure. But you are under it, and for a long time, and only rarely do you know it, except that for some unexpected reason or opportunity you come out--for an hour or even for a moment--and you suddenly feel pretty good. And in that magical instant you realize how long it's been since you felt just that way. Have you been ill, you ask. Is life itself an illness or a syndrome? Who knows? We've all felt that way, I'm confident, since there's no way that I could feel what hundreds of millions of other citizens haven't. [paragraph break] Only suddenly, then, you are out of it--that film, that skin of life--as when you were a kid. And you think: this must've been the way it was once in my life, though you didn't know it then, and don't really even remember it--a feeling of wind on your cheeks and your arms, of being released, let loose, of being the light-floater. And since that is not how it has been for a long time, you want, this time, to make it last, this glistening one moment, this cool air, this new living, so that you can preserve a feeling of it, inasmuch as when it comes again it may just be too late. You may just be too old. And in truth, of course, this may be the last time that you will ever feel this way again(Ford 374-5)." And Behrens' book, oh my freakin' God, what a surprising joy, even though it was rough and full of a sad life that was a struggle for everyone...it's about one character in particular, Fergus, and his journey from the potato famine-stricken Ireland, to the bush of Canada, and of all the people he meets in between...Very much an Irish Odyssey. Behrens' book is compared to Ondaatje's work, which may be true due to a feeling of somewhat epic sweeping, but it's better than that, a more direct clear narrative. And, I'm not a big fan of Ondaatje...There is so much about horses, too, and their mistreatment, and I think too, that Behrens is drawing a parallel between the horse, wild, mistreated by society, looking for some kind of kindness, and Fergus himself, a boy who never lived in a room, only a shabbily built cabin on top of an Irish farmer's mountain(also, the horses that died so terribly in the building of English railways, reminded me with their human-like characteristics of Faulkner's horses in As I Lay Dying). It was great, and also full of good quotes, since the author, through the protagonist's thoughts, is constantly plagued by the thought of dreams and not being able to escape the past, or the dead...Two quotes I loved..."Stories always started this way, suddenly, and set within a strange world. Patience is required, to let the stories unroll. This is how people explain their lives" (Behrens 289). This was how I felt the book was, a bit slow to get started, but it unrolled into a vast experience, spanning 4 countries, two continents...And the last quote..."Is courage just the awareness that gestures, journeys, lives have intrinsic shape, and must, one way or another, be completed? That there is a path to be followed, literally to the death? Awareness is harsh but better than being unaware, never sensing a path. Better than a life of stunts, false starts, dead ends. Better than the irredeemable ugliness of the halfhearted. Better than feeling there is no shape to anything--there is. The world knows itself" (Behrens 356). This novel actually reminded me a bit of A Fine Balance in its sweeping nature, but dare I say it? I liked this just as well, maybe a tad better? Not as long, and I've always had a weird penchant for Irish literature...A story of how a man's journey leads him to Canada, not unlike so many others, I think...:) PPs-25, GGs-26.