Book Twenty-Four: The Mistress's Black Veil: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary

Vagary: (n) an unexpected and inexplicable change in a situation or in some one's behavior.

I didn't know what it meant either.  A vagary indeed!  This Kindle edition Pride & Prejudice fan fiction is fairly well written.  Full disclosure: I read it in one night because I HAD to know what was happening to my heroine, Lizzy.

Author M. K. Baxley surmises the following:

• Lydia died in childbirth giving life to Wickham's spawn
• Mrs. Bennett has gone cray-cray after Mr. Bennett's death
• Mr. Collins has dashed Jane, Lizzy, and Kitty in the hedgerow
• Lizzy will save them all from a dastardly fate by becoming a courtesan

Yes, Dear Reader, you read that correctly.  Sweet Lizzy re-invents herself as Sophia Molina, a Spaniard,  seeking a gentleman protector. Lizzy reconciles to sell her body to care for her sisters, her young charges, and her mother in her last years.

As fan fiction goes, The Mistress's Black Veil is a nice read.  The author does a great job at incorporating source material into her fiction.  Slightly annoying is the odd narration at the beginning of each chapter that reintroduces what our characters have been up to with occasional nods to Shakespeare or Greek and Roman gods and goddesses.  This reader can't help but feel the author is cashing in and when Lizzy makes some rather insufferable choices, I found myself rolling my eyes.

Know what else is rolling, Jane Austen in her grave--that's how I see it.  Perhaps the saving grace is the wicked get their comeuppance and my heroine gets a happily ever after.

bonus feature: CD

If the title isn't clear enough, our soulful British song-smith is lonely.  Depressingly lonely.  It was a thoughtful interview with All Things Considered on NPR that had me make a special trip when the album dropped.

Ten days later the album is still depressing me.  Best known here in the States for the soulful  falsetto on 'Stay with Me', Sam sings with the essence of Lionel Ritchie and The Commodores and John Legend  It's a beautiful tone; but I am exhausted by the distance and sadness in his voice.

'Leave Your Lover' has a painful pleading that breaks your soul.  Hints of Stevie Wonder pop up in 'I'm Not the Only One' and this listener could easily hear Timberlake inspired stylings in 'Life Support'.

As I hear it, In the Lonely Hour is a beautifully rendered pop album and it'll be interesting to see what this kid will do.  There is not a bad song on the album.  Each arrangement highlights Smith's falsetto and rightly so.  However, as a solo play, fourteen tracks later, I'm so f^cking depressed.  By 'Lay Me Down', I was desperate for him to find a woman so he'd shut the hell up.  This listener, prefers the sound of Sam Smith mixed in a playlist.

Book Twenty-Three: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

I had forgotten how the story of young Harry Potter shifts in year four. The Triwizard Tournament is the forum for isolating existence.  If it can happen to Harry, it does in this year and exhaustively so.  Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire tries to hard to grow our favorite wizard  It is an unfavorable opinion, no doubt, and one that my Sweet Niece disagrees with.

She is enjoying Harry's adventures and the Triwizard Tournament hasn't begun.  It troubles her that Ron and Harry aren't talking.  She's fascinated by Mad-Eye Moody, intrigued by the Beauxbatons and entertained at the thought of Hagrid and Madam Maxime.  We both refer to her as 'Maxine'.

She takes Rowling's story as it is meant to be--fantastical.  Whereas, I've been eye-rolling behind every hardship. Harry can't catch a break in this book--unrealistically, so--to which Sweet Niece rebuffs me with her 'it's so obvious, kuku' reply of  "Well, of course not.  That would make the book boring."

As she see it, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is another fabulous year at Hogwarts.  And as I see it, she's probably right.

52 Books in 52 Weeks Update

After several false starts, I find myself behind on the 52 Week Challenge.  Putting a book down is not my strong point; but as so many dear readers remind me, life is too short to read a bad book.

I dislike calling books 'bad'.  What do you call those books that cause you to labor in vain?  Whose existence on your nightstand mocks your every glance?  The book somehow knows your compulsion to pick up another tome will not stand for the casting away of another.  Yes; these are my internal struggles dear reader.

The books which hang over my head so glaringly as we reach the midway of the year include:

• Dear Jane Austen: A Heroine's Guide to Life and Love by Patrice Hannon.  I'm certain the author is brilliant professor and historian; but for heaven's sake.  Jane doth babble on here in her advice column.  Insufferable!
• Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein  As the risk of upsetting nearly every Good Reads reader, I will take the unpopular road.  The book, received as part of World Book Night, sounded intriguing  Alas, I was mistaken.  Unable to connect to Verity or the author's long-winded narrative, I decided to stop caring before I wished the grisly execution to come.   Will I ever know what happens to Verity and the brazen pilot, Maddie?!  Not until SparkNotes hooks me up.  
• Sue Ellen's Girl Ain't Fat, She Just Weighs Heavy: The Belle of All Things Southern Dishes on Men, Money, and Not Losing Your Midlife Mind by Shellie Rushing Tomlinson  LAWD, help us!  This pseudo-southern BS makes my chick-lit blood boil.  Not nearly as authentic as Fannie Flagg or as sweet at Ann B. Ross' Miss Julia, ... Bless her little heart!

So... that's how I got behind...desperately trying to love the lauded.

Book Twenty-Two: The Midwife of Hope River

It should be of no surprise, dear readers, when I admit to preferring non-fiction to fiction in general.  Modern fiction, at the risk of sounding snobbish, bores me.  Much of it leaves me uninspired or disgusted.  Yes; I judge books by their covers.  Why?   Because their covers often adequately describe what lies within.  A book jacket with accolades is always met with skepticism.   So when I say The Midwife of Hope River is the best fiction I've read so far this year, you know I mean it.

This gem was discovered in a classic bookstore maneuver.  In the 'H's, non finding for Hale, Shannon and eyes lighting on Harmon, Patricia.  Genius!

Set during the Depression amid the poorer-than-poor Appalachia, our narrative is that of midwife Patience Murphy.  Patience is a woman of secrets who finds peace in helping mothers bring a new life into the world.  Patience's deceased mentor leaves large shoes to fill; but she slowly gains the respect of the community that in turn saves her.

Author Patrica Harmon writes a beautiful piece of Americana.  There's really two narratives competing for your attention.  Patience and her flash-back sequences that give the reader just enough to help shape our protagonist.  The other is that of the families whose babies Patience welcome into the world.  Harmon weaves a life-affirming, hard-earned, story that celebrates humanity.

One could say that Patience becomes a little bit like Forrest Gump with all the historic dates and name drops Harmon evokes as she writes; but that only caught my attention after finishing the book.  Patience stares down the ugliest of human nature--prejudice-- to provide services to poor or rich, black or white, country or city folk.

Harmon's sincerity reflects in her dialogue.  As her story close, Patience finds what she needs and this reader was left genuinely satisfied.  As I see it, author Harmon has written an authentic, honest piece of fiction that celebrates life, ugliness and all, without a hint of sap.