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"When she woke, she was red" begins Hillary Jordan's dystopian novel When She Woke. Readers and critics alike have compared the book to Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter (1850). I feel Jordan's second novel has more in common with Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale (1985). Yet Jordan's world is all her own as she transports readers into a disturbing future America that is all too horrifyingly plausible.
Jordan previously wrote Mudbound, which was published in 2008 and won numerous awards, including the 2006 Bellwether Prize. Novelist Barbara Kingsolver awards the Bellwether Prize each year to an author whose unpublished debut novel addresses some type of social justice issue. Jordan won the New Atlantic Independent Booksellers Association (NAIBA) Award in 2008, and, in 2009, Mudbound also received the Alex Award from the American Library Association.
The world as we know it today does not exist in When She Woke. Separation between church and state has vanished. Doctor-patient confidentiality laws have been abolished. The United States Supreme Court has overturned Roe vs. Wade: abortion, in any form, is illegal, but, of course, doctors still secretly perform the outlawed procedure. A disease has ravaged the country, a very sexist disease as it turns out. A superclap epidemic, known as the Great Scourge, swept the nation, leaving many women infertile. The superclap did not affect men in the same ways in affected women; men were carriers and showed virtually no signs of the sickness. For that reason, life is precious. The epidemic not only resulted in the illegalization of abortion but the disease also led to the abolition of the death penalty. The United States, in the throes of the Second Great Depression, simply ran out of funds to house the ever-growing prison population.
The solution to the problem was melachroming, or injecting a virus into the body of a convicted criminal which would temporarily change the color of his or skin to reflect his or her crime. The color yellow signified the person had been convicted of a misdemeanor. A blue was a child molester. A red was someone who had been convicted of murder.
This is the world in which we meet Hannah Payne who, interestingly, has the same initials as Hawthorne's Hester Prynne. Hannah is a good girl, a church-going girl, who has an affair with famous, handsome, and very married pastor Aidan Dale. Soon, Hannah finds herself pregnant. Because of Aidan's notoriety, Hannah decides to seek out an abortion. Literally minutes after she has the procedure, authorities catch Hannah, but she refuses to give them both the name of the abortion doctor and the name of the father. New sanctity of life laws mean Hannah has committed murder and is sentenced to be a red for sixteen years. She will have to undergo routine injections of melachroming every four months or she will experience defragmentation, a horrible, painful side effect of the virus.
After fulfilling her sentence of thirty days in the chrome ward, Hannah is released into the world, released to live the next sixteen years of her life as a red, an outcast. Her father, along with help from the good reverend, arranges for Hannah to live at a half-way house run by a man and his sadistic wife. Hannah leaves there, but not before she meets Kayla, also a red. Kayla is African-American and shot her step-father for molesting her sister. Let me be clear here: she did not kill him. He dies later, and authorities seek out Kayla once again for his murder. To try her again for the same crime is double jeopardy, but Jordan makes no mention of this fact, leading me to assume the entire Bill of Rights has been abolished.
A group of freedom fighters called the Novemberists come to both Hannah's and Kayla's aid. This group promises to get the two safely to the promised land of Canada where they can totally erase the effects of the virus. While on the way to Canada, Hannah and Kayla stop in Mississippi. Jordan was not born in Mississippi, nor does she have any ties to the state I could find. It is curious, as Mudbound was set in Mississippi. I would love to ask her why she is fond of the setting of my home state. Mississippi, in Jordan's creation, is a rich state. Mississippi has so much excess rainfall that it collects the overflow and sells it to other states. It is in Columbus, Mississippi, that we learn the Novemberists have a traitor in their midst who sells Hannah and Kayla to the highest bidder. The same Novemberist, Simone, who saved them previously rescues Hannah; Kayla was taken, but a newfound love interest goes after her.
Jordan chooses this time to give us a lesbian sex scene between Simone and Hannah. I questioned this scene. Hannah is still in love with Aidan. Furthermore, she is still a "good" girl, god-fearing; being a red does not change that. It is out of character for her to have sex with Simone, not because Simone is a lesbian, but because Hannah would simply not make love with anyone but Aidan at this point. I think a simply thank-you to Simone would have sufficed.
After leaving Mississippi, Hannah drives to Canada, stopping along the way to meet Aidan. I also had a problem with this, yet it does show how impulsive Hannah is by this point, and how desperate she is to see Aidan. Hannah takes a huge risk in contacting him. She risks herself, Aidan, and the entire Novemberist network by contacting him. She is blinded by Aidan, who I saw as terribly flawed, hypocritical, and unlikable.
Does Hannah make it to the promised land? You will have to find that out for yourself.
Jordan's style is very visual in When She Woke. Colors take on a whole new meaning. She gives a scathing critique on where our country is heading, not only politically but also culturally. While chromes are in the chrome ward, people can watch their daily activities on their ports (think ipads). Talk about reality television at its worst.
Up until the middle of the novel, I assumed all young American women had been brought up similarly to Hannah and her sister. Church, God, sewing, Bible-study. I assumed most did not go to college or have careers outside the home. I assumed most got married young and started having children. This assumption was incorrect. Yet how could a minority of Americans be in control enough to exact the changes Jordan mentions in her novel? It would take a majority. Anyone who spoke out in opposition to the radicalizations was assassinated. I found it odd that Halloween was celebrated in this world and thought it seemed contradictory.
I commend Jordan for her prescience in When She Woke. Her novel describes Dallas and most of Texas as undergoing droughts and massive heatwaves. The situation becomes so dire that Texans can no longer fill their swimming pools. Sound familiar? Texas suffered a horrendous drought this year. I actually read this novel the week the state of Georgia executed Troy Davis. I will not comment on his innocence or his guilt in this review. What I want to say is this: since 1990, more Americans have come out against the death penalty. What is the alternative? Certainly not melachroming.
Hannah might very well be a stereotypical character. After all, it is only when she wakes up red that she becomes interesting. But her story and her struggle is unique and I could not stop reading. Is Jordan describing our future? Let's hope not. One thing is certain, though. Hillary Jordan's When She Woke is dystopian literature at is best and deserves a place next to The Scarlet Letter and The Handmaid's Tale. It is a disturbing tale, but it is, above all, utterly believable and horrifying. When She Woke is an Indie Next pick for October.
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Passionate, strong women intrigue author Melanie Benjamin so much that she is compelled to tell their stories. First, she took on the enormous task of bringing the real Alice in Wonderland, Alice Liddell Hargreaves, to life in Alice I Have Been, a national bestseller. We are lucky that Benjamin was not content to stop with Alice. While reading E.L. Doctorow's Ragtime, Benjamin came across a brief reference to Lavinia Warren Stratton. She filed this name away in her brain but would ultimately come back to it months later while researching possible subjects for her next novel. The name jumped out at Benjamin again, and she conducted a further search. Benjamin knew she had her girl. I hate to think how deprived we would be of this incredible woman if she had chosen someone else.
Mercy Lavinia Warren Bump ("Vinnie") was born in October 31, 1841, in Massachusetts. Benjamin opens the book as Vinnie herself would, with an accounting of her ancestry. Vinnie's mother loved to tell whoever would listen that she was could trace her people back to the Mayflower. Interestingly, Vinnie goes on to do the same throughout the book.
As an adult, Vinnie grew to two feet, eight inches tall, yet she was larger than life, as Benjamin recounts. Only her younger sister, Minnie, shared her diminutive stature; her other family members were of normal size. Vinnie and Minnie suffered from a pituitary disorder called proportionate dwarfism, which would be treated today with human growth hormones. Thus, from a very young age, her family knows Vinnie is different, and they feel as if they must protect her from the outside world. In the mid-nineteenth century, few careers were open to women. Vinnie is doubly handicapped, then. Not only is she a female during this time, but she is also what many consider an "oddity." Vinnie becomes a teacher for a time, but this girl has a case of wanderlust. She will not be content to stay in Massachusetts, where she feels her family smothers her. She never wants to be burdensome to them.
Fate soon arrives on the Bump doorstep in the form of Colonel Wood, who is a distant cousin. He lures Vinnie with, what turns out, empty promises. Vinnie performs on a riverboat freak show as it travels the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, yet this life is not what she envisioned. Wood is cruel, hateful, and predatory. The coming of the Civil War allows Vinnie to escape from Wood's clutches and rejoin her family. Vinnie is safe in the cocoon of home for a time, but that wanderlust returns. She cannot help but write to P.T. Barnum, that famous man who discovered her idol, Jenny Lind, and who runs the American Museum. He answers her missive. Soon, Vinnie is under contract with Barnum. It is under Barnum's tutelage that Vinnie thrives.
Barnum, pulling yet another "humbug," introduces her to Charles Stratton, better known as General Tom Thumb. The nuptials of Mr. and Mrs. Tom Thumb become the wedding of the century and a boon for Barnum. Husband and wife tour the country and later the world. It is amazing how much history Vinnie sees and lives, from railroads, riverboats, wars, battles, presidents, royalty, to a big fire. Benjamin, in effect, takes readers on a historical journey of America from the 1850s to the 1880s, showing the enormous research she did for this novel.
Everyone loves the diminutive couple, especially Vinnie, the "Little Queen of Beauty." Vinnie is a fully-formed woman in miniature. She has good manners, grace, elegance, and good breeding, which, as previously stated, she is fond of mentioning. She is different from other "grotesque" oddities. Neither Mrs. Astor nor Mrs. Vanderbilt would have had them to dinner or bestowed lavish gifts on them. Vinnie is unique; she is like them, but in miniature.
I am happy that Benjamin wrote this novel in the first person because it allows the reader to really get into Vinnie's head. We experience her hopes and fears, such as her dread of procreation and giving birth. We, too, want to protect her sister, Minnie, from unpleasantness.
An interesting thing occurred mid-way through the novel. Vinnie begins falling in love with Barnum. I saw this coming. Of course she falls in love with P.T. Barnum. How could she not? He is the only fully-formed man who looks at her without pity, without curiosity. He matches her intellect and her wit, her everything. I admit that I, too, fell in love with Barnum.
In a September 9, 2011, Twitter lit chat with the author, Benjamin revealed that Vinnie's descendants came to meet her at book signings. They were thrilled, as they should be. In fact, it is my belief that Vinnie would be quite pleased with The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb. Throughout her life, Vinnie desperately wanted not to be forgotten. She got what she wanted: she will always be remembered.
Benjamin uses real people and real events in her book. She takes facts and imagines the rest, yet everything is always utterly plausible and believable. Readers will forget Vinnie is not actually telling the story herself. Benjamin is just that good!
A popular subject currently in the literary world is the circus. Circus books are everywhere, such as Erin Morgenstern's The Night Circus and Carol Birch's Jamrach's Menagerie to name a few. Vinnie makes The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb stand head and shoulders above the rest.
Not since Pi Patel in Yann Martel’s Life of Pi has this reviewer found a more engaging, adventurous child as Eleanora Cohen in Michael David Lukas’ The Oracle of Stamboul. Wherever Eleanora goes, a flock of birds, purple-and-white hoopoes, follows, even presiding over her 1877 birth in Constanta, a town on the Black Sea. Two Tartar midwives, who assist in the delivery, said signs led them to the girl. She is, the mysterious women, claim, part of a prophecy: “They had read all the signs, they said: a sea of horses, a conference of birds, the North Star in alignment with the moon. It was a prophecy that their last king had given on his deathbed” (3).
Leah Cohen does not survive her daughter’s birth. Yakob Cohen, a carpet salesman, appeals to his sister-in-law Ruxandra for help raising Eleanora, and they marry. Although Ruxandra is not a wicked stepmother, she is not loving, kind, or understanding either. Eleanora shows signs of great intellectual promise at a young age, yet women were supposed to marry, have children, and keep house. Ruxandra sees that Eleanora is special, like her own sister, and jealousy causes her to keep Eleanora away from a classical education and pushes her toward household chores instead. This makes Eleanora miserable.
When her father announces that he is going on business to Stamboul, Eleanora stows away on his ship. Mr. Cohen, angry at first, soon relents and yields. His daughter can stay the month with him; together, father and daughter enjoy the sights and sounds of exotic Stamboul. Terrible tragedy strikes, however, and Eleanora is left in the care of Moncef Bey, her father’s business partner. It is here that the novel lags. Eleanora refuses to speak, communicating with others only through written messages. Readers at this crucial juncture in the novel are so taken with Eleanora that they crave her voice and are more than ready when she does finally decide to speak again.
The novel picks back up with a whirlwind pace as Eleanora’s tutor may or may not be a spy. Indeed, many in Lukas’ novel are not what they seem, even Moncef Bey who we learn has a secret history of his own. But it is Eleanora with her remarkable intellect and sharp wit that is the focus. One character almost as fascinating as Eleanora is the Turkish sultan Abdul Hamid II (1842-1918) who was deposed by the Young Turks in 1908.
Is Eleanora the one who fulfills the prophecy? As she solves puzzles and speaks in tongues, under the watchful eyes of her flock, readers will wonder. This book has it all: magic, palace intrigue, prophecy, and riddles. Yet, through it all, Lukas still manages to keep it real. At the heart of this remarkable debut is an eight-year-old girl who is uncertain and afraid. Faced with two choices, Eleanora eschews them both and carves out her own future, free of birds and perhaps free of oracles. Readers will love Eleanora Cohen and take her into their hearts.
"A rose is a rose is a rose," Gertrude Stein (1874-1946) once wrote. Vanessa Diffenbaugh might not agree. The language of flowers is never simple; rather, it is often complex, with multiple meanings. A daisy signifies innocence. Ivy implies fidelity. The meaning of a yellow rose, however, is not as clear-cut. In some cases, the yellow rose symbolizes jealousy, while in other instances it indicates infidelity. It is only fitting, then, that Victoria Jones is every bit as complicated as the yellow rose. Jones is the main character in Diffenbaugh's debut novel The Language of Flowers.
Rumor has it there was a bidding war among nine (yes, count them, nine) publishers for this wonderful book, and readers will quickly understand the reason why. In alternating chapters, Diffenbaugh weaves together two timelines, past and present, with seamless grace and ease. Growing up is hard to do, especially when you are maneuvering through the difficulties of being a foster child. On her eighteenth birthday, Jones is "emancipated," meaning she is considered an adult and therefore phases out of state care. First, she goes to a half-way house, but soon she takes off abruptly. She has no job, no place to live, and seeks shelter in a park. The reader learns early how much Jones loves flowers and they seem to love her. Flowers are easier to deal with for Jones than people are. Jones makes her home in a small garden. A local florist recognizes her talent, despite her inexperience, and offers Jones a job. This leads to her renting a room and meeting a man from her past. In the other timeline, the reader learns a very young Jones went to live with a woman named Elizabeth. After a rocky start, the two grew to understand, accept, and even love each other. But we know it's not meant to be from the beginning. Otherwise, Jones would never have been a ward of the state at seventeen. We also know that something horrible happens to separate the new "mother" and "daughter," and it is heartbreaking both for us and for Jones. Past and present meet as the story plays out a satisfying denouement.
The characters in The Language of Flowers are all flawed. Their imperfections in no way detract from the novel; in fact, their faults actually add to the story and make the individuals more real. Perhaps the most flawed is Jones; then again she has every reason to be. I loved and hated Jones in equal measure. She lashes out when she hungers for acceptance. She hits when she most craves a gentle touch. She destroys worlds when she only wants to be loved.
Diffenbaugh explores the bonds of motherhood in her debut. In fact, each character in the novel seems to have issues with his or her mother. There are pushy mothers, absent mothers, and unsure mothers. The author awed me when she showed how Jones felt something was literally and figuratively sucking her very life-blood from her. She also gently reminds us that we can create our own versions of family. Jones needs help in her own floral business and seeks assistance from her fellow foster kids. One, Marlena, comes to the rescue. Marlena, in turn, later hires her own former foster kids to help. Talk about paying it forward. The Language of Flowers is also a scathing critique of the foster care system in America. Diffenbaugh should know. She and her husband are foster parents to three children.
I feel I must insert a rhododendron here (To those who do not know, a rhododendron means beware). This novel might make readers cry, as it made me. Grab a hankie and continue reading. The Language of Flowers is one of my picks for best novel of the year. Diffenbaugh, in her powerful first novel, will certainly cause readers to rethink their gardening choices!
Kevin Wilson's debut novel "The Family Fang" is dark, quirky, and fantastic. Camille and Caleb Fang make art, real art, on sidewalks and in shopping malls by creating hilarious and outlandish scenes and filming people's reactions. You'll laugh out loud at some of them, just as I did. Yes, this book is outrageous. Yet the characters are always real. Mr. and Mrs. Fang and their children, Annie and Buster, are just as flawed as you and me. It's ironic that Hobart, Caleb's mentor, said that children destroy art. That's not the case here since Annie and Buster (or A and B, if you will) enable their parents to create their best art. In a sense, getting married and having children, then, becomes the magnum opus of the Fangs. I met Mr. Wilson and asked him if he had fun writing this novel. He replied that it was a blast. I can definitely see that. I had a blast reading it. You will, too. In fact, I loved it so much I wanted to be a part of the Fang family.
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When She Woke by Hillary Jordan
Jaime Boler, September 28, 2011
"When she woke, she was red" begins Hillary Jordan's dystopian novel When She Woke. Readers and critics alike have compared the book to Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter (1850). I feel Jordan's second novel has more in common with Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale (1985). Yet Jordan's world is all her own as she transports readers into a disturbing future America that is all too horrifyingly plausible.Jordan previously wrote Mudbound, which was published in 2008 and won numerous awards, including the 2006 Bellwether Prize. Novelist Barbara Kingsolver awards the Bellwether Prize each year to an author whose unpublished debut novel addresses some type of social justice issue. Jordan won the New Atlantic Independent Booksellers Association (NAIBA) Award in 2008, and, in 2009, Mudbound also received the Alex Award from the American Library Association.
The world as we know it today does not exist in When She Woke. Separation between church and state has vanished. Doctor-patient confidentiality laws have been abolished. The United States Supreme Court has overturned Roe vs. Wade: abortion, in any form, is illegal, but, of course, doctors still secretly perform the outlawed procedure. A disease has ravaged the country, a very sexist disease as it turns out. A superclap epidemic, known as the Great Scourge, swept the nation, leaving many women infertile. The superclap did not affect men in the same ways in affected women; men were carriers and showed virtually no signs of the sickness. For that reason, life is precious. The epidemic not only resulted in the illegalization of abortion but the disease also led to the abolition of the death penalty. The United States, in the throes of the Second Great Depression, simply ran out of funds to house the ever-growing prison population.
The solution to the problem was melachroming, or injecting a virus into the body of a convicted criminal which would temporarily change the color of his or skin to reflect his or her crime. The color yellow signified the person had been convicted of a misdemeanor. A blue was a child molester. A red was someone who had been convicted of murder.
This is the world in which we meet Hannah Payne who, interestingly, has the same initials as Hawthorne's Hester Prynne. Hannah is a good girl, a church-going girl, who has an affair with famous, handsome, and very married pastor Aidan Dale. Soon, Hannah finds herself pregnant. Because of Aidan's notoriety, Hannah decides to seek out an abortion. Literally minutes after she has the procedure, authorities catch Hannah, but she refuses to give them both the name of the abortion doctor and the name of the father. New sanctity of life laws mean Hannah has committed murder and is sentenced to be a red for sixteen years. She will have to undergo routine injections of melachroming every four months or she will experience defragmentation, a horrible, painful side effect of the virus.
After fulfilling her sentence of thirty days in the chrome ward, Hannah is released into the world, released to live the next sixteen years of her life as a red, an outcast. Her father, along with help from the good reverend, arranges for Hannah to live at a half-way house run by a man and his sadistic wife. Hannah leaves there, but not before she meets Kayla, also a red. Kayla is African-American and shot her step-father for molesting her sister. Let me be clear here: she did not kill him. He dies later, and authorities seek out Kayla once again for his murder. To try her again for the same crime is double jeopardy, but Jordan makes no mention of this fact, leading me to assume the entire Bill of Rights has been abolished.
A group of freedom fighters called the Novemberists come to both Hannah's and Kayla's aid. This group promises to get the two safely to the promised land of Canada where they can totally erase the effects of the virus. While on the way to Canada, Hannah and Kayla stop in Mississippi. Jordan was not born in Mississippi, nor does she have any ties to the state I could find. It is curious, as Mudbound was set in Mississippi. I would love to ask her why she is fond of the setting of my home state. Mississippi, in Jordan's creation, is a rich state. Mississippi has so much excess rainfall that it collects the overflow and sells it to other states. It is in Columbus, Mississippi, that we learn the Novemberists have a traitor in their midst who sells Hannah and Kayla to the highest bidder. The same Novemberist, Simone, who saved them previously rescues Hannah; Kayla was taken, but a newfound love interest goes after her.
Jordan chooses this time to give us a lesbian sex scene between Simone and Hannah. I questioned this scene. Hannah is still in love with Aidan. Furthermore, she is still a "good" girl, god-fearing; being a red does not change that. It is out of character for her to have sex with Simone, not because Simone is a lesbian, but because Hannah would simply not make love with anyone but Aidan at this point. I think a simply thank-you to Simone would have sufficed.
After leaving Mississippi, Hannah drives to Canada, stopping along the way to meet Aidan. I also had a problem with this, yet it does show how impulsive Hannah is by this point, and how desperate she is to see Aidan. Hannah takes a huge risk in contacting him. She risks herself, Aidan, and the entire Novemberist network by contacting him. She is blinded by Aidan, who I saw as terribly flawed, hypocritical, and unlikable.
Does Hannah make it to the promised land? You will have to find that out for yourself.
Jordan's style is very visual in When She Woke. Colors take on a whole new meaning. She gives a scathing critique on where our country is heading, not only politically but also culturally. While chromes are in the chrome ward, people can watch their daily activities on their ports (think ipads). Talk about reality television at its worst.
Up until the middle of the novel, I assumed all young American women had been brought up similarly to Hannah and her sister. Church, God, sewing, Bible-study. I assumed most did not go to college or have careers outside the home. I assumed most got married young and started having children. This assumption was incorrect. Yet how could a minority of Americans be in control enough to exact the changes Jordan mentions in her novel? It would take a majority. Anyone who spoke out in opposition to the radicalizations was assassinated. I found it odd that Halloween was celebrated in this world and thought it seemed contradictory.
I commend Jordan for her prescience in When She Woke. Her novel describes Dallas and most of Texas as undergoing droughts and massive heatwaves. The situation becomes so dire that Texans can no longer fill their swimming pools. Sound familiar? Texas suffered a horrendous drought this year. I actually read this novel the week the state of Georgia executed Troy Davis. I will not comment on his innocence or his guilt in this review. What I want to say is this: since 1990, more Americans have come out against the death penalty. What is the alternative? Certainly not melachroming.
Hannah might very well be a stereotypical character. After all, it is only when she wakes up red that she becomes interesting. But her story and her struggle is unique and I could not stop reading. Is Jordan describing our future? Let's hope not. One thing is certain, though. Hillary Jordan's When She Woke is dystopian literature at is best and deserves a place next to The Scarlet Letter and The Handmaid's Tale. It is a disturbing tale, but it is, above all, utterly believable and horrifying. When She Woke is an Indie Next pick for October.
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The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb by Melanie Benjamin
Jaime Boler, September 12, 2011
The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom ThumbPassionate, strong women intrigue author Melanie Benjamin so much that she is compelled to tell their stories. First, she took on the enormous task of bringing the real Alice in Wonderland, Alice Liddell Hargreaves, to life in Alice I Have Been, a national bestseller. We are lucky that Benjamin was not content to stop with Alice. While reading E.L. Doctorow's Ragtime, Benjamin came across a brief reference to Lavinia Warren Stratton. She filed this name away in her brain but would ultimately come back to it months later while researching possible subjects for her next novel. The name jumped out at Benjamin again, and she conducted a further search. Benjamin knew she had her girl. I hate to think how deprived we would be of this incredible woman if she had chosen someone else.
Mercy Lavinia Warren Bump ("Vinnie") was born in October 31, 1841, in Massachusetts. Benjamin opens the book as Vinnie herself would, with an accounting of her ancestry. Vinnie's mother loved to tell whoever would listen that she was could trace her people back to the Mayflower. Interestingly, Vinnie goes on to do the same throughout the book.
As an adult, Vinnie grew to two feet, eight inches tall, yet she was larger than life, as Benjamin recounts. Only her younger sister, Minnie, shared her diminutive stature; her other family members were of normal size. Vinnie and Minnie suffered from a pituitary disorder called proportionate dwarfism, which would be treated today with human growth hormones. Thus, from a very young age, her family knows Vinnie is different, and they feel as if they must protect her from the outside world. In the mid-nineteenth century, few careers were open to women. Vinnie is doubly handicapped, then. Not only is she a female during this time, but she is also what many consider an "oddity." Vinnie becomes a teacher for a time, but this girl has a case of wanderlust. She will not be content to stay in Massachusetts, where she feels her family smothers her. She never wants to be burdensome to them.
Fate soon arrives on the Bump doorstep in the form of Colonel Wood, who is a distant cousin. He lures Vinnie with, what turns out, empty promises. Vinnie performs on a riverboat freak show as it travels the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, yet this life is not what she envisioned. Wood is cruel, hateful, and predatory. The coming of the Civil War allows Vinnie to escape from Wood's clutches and rejoin her family. Vinnie is safe in the cocoon of home for a time, but that wanderlust returns. She cannot help but write to P.T. Barnum, that famous man who discovered her idol, Jenny Lind, and who runs the American Museum. He answers her missive. Soon, Vinnie is under contract with Barnum. It is under Barnum's tutelage that Vinnie thrives.
Barnum, pulling yet another "humbug," introduces her to Charles Stratton, better known as General Tom Thumb. The nuptials of Mr. and Mrs. Tom Thumb become the wedding of the century and a boon for Barnum. Husband and wife tour the country and later the world. It is amazing how much history Vinnie sees and lives, from railroads, riverboats, wars, battles, presidents, royalty, to a big fire. Benjamin, in effect, takes readers on a historical journey of America from the 1850s to the 1880s, showing the enormous research she did for this novel.
Everyone loves the diminutive couple, especially Vinnie, the "Little Queen of Beauty." Vinnie is a fully-formed woman in miniature. She has good manners, grace, elegance, and good breeding, which, as previously stated, she is fond of mentioning. She is different from other "grotesque" oddities. Neither Mrs. Astor nor Mrs. Vanderbilt would have had them to dinner or bestowed lavish gifts on them. Vinnie is unique; she is like them, but in miniature.
I am happy that Benjamin wrote this novel in the first person because it allows the reader to really get into Vinnie's head. We experience her hopes and fears, such as her dread of procreation and giving birth. We, too, want to protect her sister, Minnie, from unpleasantness.
An interesting thing occurred mid-way through the novel. Vinnie begins falling in love with Barnum. I saw this coming. Of course she falls in love with P.T. Barnum. How could she not? He is the only fully-formed man who looks at her without pity, without curiosity. He matches her intellect and her wit, her everything. I admit that I, too, fell in love with Barnum.
In a September 9, 2011, Twitter lit chat with the author, Benjamin revealed that Vinnie's descendants came to meet her at book signings. They were thrilled, as they should be. In fact, it is my belief that Vinnie would be quite pleased with The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb. Throughout her life, Vinnie desperately wanted not to be forgotten. She got what she wanted: she will always be remembered.
Benjamin uses real people and real events in her book. She takes facts and imagines the rest, yet everything is always utterly plausible and believable. Readers will forget Vinnie is not actually telling the story herself. Benjamin is just that good!
A popular subject currently in the literary world is the circus. Circus books are everywhere, such as Erin Morgenstern's The Night Circus and Carol Birch's Jamrach's Menagerie to name a few. Vinnie makes The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb stand head and shoulders above the rest.
The Oracle of Stamboul. Michael David Lukas
Jaime Boler, September 6, 2011
Not since Pi Patel in Yann Martel’s Life of Pi has this reviewer found a more engaging, adventurous child as Eleanora Cohen in Michael David Lukas’ The Oracle of Stamboul. Wherever Eleanora goes, a flock of birds, purple-and-white hoopoes, follows, even presiding over her 1877 birth in Constanta, a town on the Black Sea. Two Tartar midwives, who assist in the delivery, said signs led them to the girl. She is, the mysterious women, claim, part of a prophecy: “They had read all the signs, they said: a sea of horses, a conference of birds, the North Star in alignment with the moon. It was a prophecy that their last king had given on his deathbed” (3).Leah Cohen does not survive her daughter’s birth. Yakob Cohen, a carpet salesman, appeals to his sister-in-law Ruxandra for help raising Eleanora, and they marry. Although Ruxandra is not a wicked stepmother, she is not loving, kind, or understanding either. Eleanora shows signs of great intellectual promise at a young age, yet women were supposed to marry, have children, and keep house. Ruxandra sees that Eleanora is special, like her own sister, and jealousy causes her to keep Eleanora away from a classical education and pushes her toward household chores instead. This makes Eleanora miserable.
When her father announces that he is going on business to Stamboul, Eleanora stows away on his ship. Mr. Cohen, angry at first, soon relents and yields. His daughter can stay the month with him; together, father and daughter enjoy the sights and sounds of exotic Stamboul. Terrible tragedy strikes, however, and Eleanora is left in the care of Moncef Bey, her father’s business partner. It is here that the novel lags. Eleanora refuses to speak, communicating with others only through written messages. Readers at this crucial juncture in the novel are so taken with Eleanora that they crave her voice and are more than ready when she does finally decide to speak again.
The novel picks back up with a whirlwind pace as Eleanora’s tutor may or may not be a spy. Indeed, many in Lukas’ novel are not what they seem, even Moncef Bey who we learn has a secret history of his own. But it is Eleanora with her remarkable intellect and sharp wit that is the focus. One character almost as fascinating as Eleanora is the Turkish sultan Abdul Hamid II (1842-1918) who was deposed by the Young Turks in 1908.
Is Eleanora the one who fulfills the prophecy? As she solves puzzles and speaks in tongues, under the watchful eyes of her flock, readers will wonder. This book has it all: magic, palace intrigue, prophecy, and riddles. Yet, through it all, Lukas still manages to keep it real. At the heart of this remarkable debut is an eight-year-old girl who is uncertain and afraid. Faced with two choices, Eleanora eschews them both and carves out her own future, free of birds and perhaps free of oracles. Readers will love Eleanora Cohen and take her into their hearts.
The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh
Jaime Boler, September 5, 2011
"A rose is a rose is a rose""A rose is a rose is a rose," Gertrude Stein (1874-1946) once wrote. Vanessa Diffenbaugh might not agree. The language of flowers is never simple; rather, it is often complex, with multiple meanings. A daisy signifies innocence. Ivy implies fidelity. The meaning of a yellow rose, however, is not as clear-cut. In some cases, the yellow rose symbolizes jealousy, while in other instances it indicates infidelity. It is only fitting, then, that Victoria Jones is every bit as complicated as the yellow rose. Jones is the main character in Diffenbaugh's debut novel The Language of Flowers.
Rumor has it there was a bidding war among nine (yes, count them, nine) publishers for this wonderful book, and readers will quickly understand the reason why. In alternating chapters, Diffenbaugh weaves together two timelines, past and present, with seamless grace and ease. Growing up is hard to do, especially when you are maneuvering through the difficulties of being a foster child. On her eighteenth birthday, Jones is "emancipated," meaning she is considered an adult and therefore phases out of state care. First, she goes to a half-way house, but soon she takes off abruptly. She has no job, no place to live, and seeks shelter in a park. The reader learns early how much Jones loves flowers and they seem to love her. Flowers are easier to deal with for Jones than people are. Jones makes her home in a small garden. A local florist recognizes her talent, despite her inexperience, and offers Jones a job. This leads to her renting a room and meeting a man from her past. In the other timeline, the reader learns a very young Jones went to live with a woman named Elizabeth. After a rocky start, the two grew to understand, accept, and even love each other. But we know it's not meant to be from the beginning. Otherwise, Jones would never have been a ward of the state at seventeen. We also know that something horrible happens to separate the new "mother" and "daughter," and it is heartbreaking both for us and for Jones. Past and present meet as the story plays out a satisfying denouement.
The characters in The Language of Flowers are all flawed. Their imperfections in no way detract from the novel; in fact, their faults actually add to the story and make the individuals more real. Perhaps the most flawed is Jones; then again she has every reason to be. I loved and hated Jones in equal measure. She lashes out when she hungers for acceptance. She hits when she most craves a gentle touch. She destroys worlds when she only wants to be loved.
Diffenbaugh explores the bonds of motherhood in her debut. In fact, each character in the novel seems to have issues with his or her mother. There are pushy mothers, absent mothers, and unsure mothers. The author awed me when she showed how Jones felt something was literally and figuratively sucking her very life-blood from her. She also gently reminds us that we can create our own versions of family. Jones needs help in her own floral business and seeks assistance from her fellow foster kids. One, Marlena, comes to the rescue. Marlena, in turn, later hires her own former foster kids to help. Talk about paying it forward. The Language of Flowers is also a scathing critique of the foster care system in America. Diffenbaugh should know. She and her husband are foster parents to three children.
I feel I must insert a rhododendron here (To those who do not know, a rhododendron means beware). This novel might make readers cry, as it made me. Grab a hankie and continue reading. The Language of Flowers is one of my picks for best novel of the year. Diffenbaugh, in her powerful first novel, will certainly cause readers to rethink their gardening choices!
The Family Fang by Kevin Wilson
Jaime Boler, September 2, 2011
Kevin Wilson's debut novel "The Family Fang" is dark, quirky, and fantastic. Camille and Caleb Fang make art, real art, on sidewalks and in shopping malls by creating hilarious and outlandish scenes and filming people's reactions. You'll laugh out loud at some of them, just as I did. Yes, this book is outrageous. Yet the characters are always real. Mr. and Mrs. Fang and their children, Annie and Buster, are just as flawed as you and me. It's ironic that Hobart, Caleb's mentor, said that children destroy art. That's not the case here since Annie and Buster (or A and B, if you will) enable their parents to create their best art. In a sense, getting married and having children, then, becomes the magnum opus of the Fangs. I met Mr. Wilson and asked him if he had fun writing this novel. He replied that it was a blast. I can definitely see that. I had a blast reading it. You will, too. In fact, I loved it so much I wanted to be a part of the Fang family.1-5 of 6next