Atonement

I've just finished reading Atonement by Ian McEwan, and I'm not entirely sure how to feel about it at the moment. Perhaps I should be taking longer to do a little bit of reflecting, but I also feel like I just need to write it down, to sort out what I'm thinking. I'll do my best to avoid spoiling things.

The book was written in absolutely fabulous prose, full of sweeping descriptions as well as a kind of chracterization that his highly reminescent of Austen and Elliot. The younger Briony is melancholy in the best kind of sense; McEwan is able to put in to words the thoughts of a young child as they face the change from the innocence of childhood to the disillusionment and reality of adulthood. The scenes where Briony realizes that perhaps there is more to life than the black-and-white definitions she's so used to finding in her fairy tales are some of the saddest in the book. When she witnesses a moment between her older sister, Cecelia, and Robbie, the son of the woman that cleans their house, Briony is yet again forced to come to the realization that things might not be as simple as her childhood has led her to believe. The second half of the book, however, is where things begin to loose a little bit of steam, at least as far as I'm concerned. I can only read so many pages and pages of scenes of war. My biggest problem was that, after a while, the scenes of Robbie at war began to meld in to one another, forming pages and pages of endless description of war-torn villages, pain, death, destruction. There are certain touching moments - moments where Robbie talks about his love for Cecelia, when he talks about the life he wants them to build when the war is over. However, on the whole the middle of the book became, for me, the part to push through. The third part of the book puts the reader back with Briony as she becomes a nurse faced with realizing the horrors of war for herself. The book picked up a little bit more here, and the descriptions of the injuries Briony was made to deal with were disgustingly haunting, making me feel uncomfortable in possibly the best ways. The book wraps up the story line of Cecelia, Robbie, Briony, and the family memebers surrounding them, but there weren't quite as many moments of shock and surprise - something I was kind of hoping for.

All in all, I thing Atonement is a fabulous book, but not necessarily living up to the rave reviews that made me read it in the first place. I would reccommend it again, mostly because McEwan writes simply beautiful prose, prose that I could only wish to emulate. The love he portrays between Robbie and Cecelia is beautifully crafted, beautifully and hauntingly familiar. But the story itself, however, wouldn't stand as strong if someone else had written it.

Next on the list is Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind. This is a book reccommended to me by a good friend, and I've seen the movie, so I figured that this break would be as good as any to crack it open. The books is about a boy, born in France, who has a sense of smell so sharp that he is able to smell literally everything that makes up a person. He uses this sense of smell to apprentice and become a fantastic perfume maker. The best scent he has ever smelled, however, is that of a young woman, and the quest to repicate this scent is what makes the tale a tale of murder. Hopefully the book is as good as my friend as told me it is. I'm a little wary to follow a historically-based fiction novel with another historically-based fiction novel, but I'm going to cross my fingers and hope for the best. Thank God for break - uninterrupted reading time, at last!

BookMaven

Winnie the Pooh and Christmas, Too

Yet again, it has been entirely too long since the last time I wrote. I sense that to be somewhat of a recurring theme. However, back I am, and back with a vengance.

Right now, at this very moment, I am sitting on my soon to be ex-roomates couch, surrounded by purses, boxes, and one very stuffed 60-gallon trashbag full of all the clothes I brought with me way back in August. My finals are over, my classes are completely out of my hands, and the ensuing feeling of relief fills me to the brim every time I think about it. Thats right, I am offically done with my first semester of college. It's an interesting feeling, mostly one of disbelief. There are some times that I wake up and still feel like I'm at a sleep away camp. It's a good feeling to be done, but I'm wondering if I truly lived it up to the extent that I could have. I went to my classes, I went to parties, I even fell in to deep crush and was brutally rebuked, Elizabeth-to-Darcy style, by the boy next door. And now I'm headed home for 31 days of dull, boring, familial bliss. And I couldn't be more excited.

Over break, I plan on reading nothing but all of those things that I've been wanting to read but haven't had time to between all of the afore-mentioned studying and partying. This inclues Atonement by Ian McEwan, the rest of The Other Boelyn Girl by Philippa Gregory, Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez and The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff. All of the above have been on the list for quite some time, and I'm finally ready to get around to them, seeing as how I'll have 31 uninterrupted, unemployed days for doing so. I've heard nothing but wonderful things about Atonement, and am really excited to crack it open. It's about time I finish The Other Boelyn Girl, seeing as how I've had it in my possession for over a month now and am still only about half way through it. The Garcia Marquez is because I've been interested in getting in to some Marquez since we talked about him in my Latin American Studies class, and the Tao of Pooh is because I've decided, yet again, to try and refocus myself back to myself. I want to make sure that, next semester, I've living the best life I can live for me.

I'm not going to lie, the whole encounter with the boy next door threw me for a loop I wasn't quite prepared for. It shook me, who I was as me and what I wanted. I've decided that its time to get back to me, back to what I really want and who I really want to me. Drew, my Army might-as-well-be-my-brother, bought me beautiful Mala beads for Christmas, and its about time I got back to meditation, back to thinking about who and what I am. I've made some goals for the next year, but I'm choosing to make them now as opposed to New Years, because New Years just seems like far to cliche a time to make new goals. So, consider these my new goals for the same-but-better-me:

* I want to learn to play guitar
* I want to get better at meditating and yoga
* I want to look in to the religions of the East, learning more about other spiritual paths
* I'm going to begin reading the Pulitzer prize winners, beginning with 2007 and working my way back
* I'm going begin to organize my reading/keeping better track of it, as well as to get back in to journaling
* I want to be happy. Which means I want to be around people and places, listening to the music, watching the movies, reading the books and experimenting with art forms that make me happy.

Most importantly, I want to do all of this for me. Because its Christmas, and at Christmas you tell the truth. Especially to yourself.

And now, a closing word of wisdom from The Tao of Pooh: "When you discard arrogance, complexity, and a few other things that get in the way, sooner or later you will discover that simple, childlike, and mysterious secret known to those of the Uncarved Block: Life is Fun."

BookMaven

Turkey Day and the Hidden Way

I've decided that Thanksgiving is, perhaps, the best holiday out there. When you think about it, there are no tricky religious connotations that go along with it, and almost everyone is given time off to eat delicious food and hang out with family. In all honesty, I can't think of a better way to spend my time - unless, of course, I'm reading. Which I haven't been able to do much of recently, despite my best efforts. I continue to have to do research for my Latin American studies class, and between that and just general homework and life maintenance, there has been little time for pleasure reading (I'm sure I'm starting to sound like a broken record when it comes to that subject, though!).

I've made fairly decent progress on The Other Boelyn Girl, but I'm afraid that I'm coming to that point in most Philippa Gregory novels where I just loose general interest. The back and forth between Mary and Anne, up to this point, has been relatively interesting, but I'm unsure as to how much longer it can carry on before there just has to be one that is picked. I'm also rather intrigued by the character George, especially now that there has been allusions to his being gay and pursuing another male courtier. It's interesting to read how some of the other characters react to this, especially in relation to the highly Catholic and courtly England at the time. Other than that, I can't really seem to find much to praise about the book as of yet. It's got a simple story-telling format, but I find Anne to be immensely annoying and, in all rights and aspects, just kind of a bitch. I think that Henry is just a spoiled brat who can't ever be appeased, no matter what he has or is missing. I suppose that the case could be made that, because this is historical fiction, that the characters are all based on real people, and this is most likely the case. But that doesn't mean I have to like them.

In addition to The Other Boelyn Girl, I've also cracked open Lolita, which has been on my list of books to read since earlier this summer. (I feel it necessary to mention here that Kavalier and Clay has fallen by the wayside, as it just wasn't a good enough book to keep my attention amongst all the other books that I want to read) So far, I'm absolutely in love with it! Nabokov writes with such an interesting style, with such passion for words and their power. It's to be admired, although the subject matter might not be of the most prurient nature. I'm not one for books where characters obsess over other characters, and when its a situation of an older man obsessed with a MUCH younger girl, I find myself even more wary. But Nabokov's words are almost enough to make all of that go away! His phrases and word choice are so flowering that I find myself sinking deeper and deeper with each page. I love it!

Other than that, Thanksgiving is right around the corner (as in, like, two days from now) which means that I turn 19 in three days! Yay for me! And I have to say that, all things considered, its been a pretty awesome year. There have been some friend problems, and now theres the little issue of being deeply in like with the guy next door and him having no idea, but other than that, I've found what I believe to be the hidden way to getting by, to having a good time and enjoying life - slow down. There is no reason to be going a thousand miles an hour all the time. Maybe, if something doesn't get done because you don't slow down, it wasn't supposed to be done in the first place. I don't mean this to be the secret to life (I think saying I had the secret to life at 19 would be a little presumptuous!) but it seems to work for me! If I can say that I woke up in the morning, did all the things I was supposed to do that day, and have a little time for reading or chatting with friends at the end of the day, then that was the best kind of day I can hope for. So, lets hope for many more good days, many more good books, and maybe even a good cup of coffee or two!

BookMaven

Change Is Inevitable...

Change may be inevitable, but that does not mean that I have to support it, especially when it comes to my favorite book store!

I have never been much of a religious person, and the closest thing I've ever had to a religious experience would be reading a really fantastic book. Becuase of this, I have often considered Borders to be somewhat of a church, a religious place containing all of the things I love in this world - good coffee, good books, and a generally signifigant amount of intelligent people. Yes, Borders is a corporation, much like Starbucks, but hey - when it comes to a book store with big chairs and the ability to read all day if you'd like, I have to go with what I have!

So today, I made a trip to my lovely neighborhood Borders to find that NOTHING WAS IN THE RIGHT PLACE! I had ventured forth from the enclave of my house (where I've been cooped up all day doing research on the Madres de la Plaza de Mayo for my Latin American Studies class) in the efforts to buy a book I've been dreaming about buying since I heard it hit the shelves. I made my way to where the music books used to be, so that I could pick up Out of Sync, the new Lance Bass autobiography, and hustle to the cashier, not looking him to the eye as I buy my less-than-literary selection. However, half way to where the music section was, I found myself knee-deep in manga! Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against manga, it just wasn't what I was looking for. So, as I began to wander around the store in search of my beloved selection, I realized that fiction had taken the location of travel books, that poetry and plays had been replaced by magazines, and that the craft book section seems to have disappeard to some alternate universe, accessable only by someone with a laminated Borders lanyard. Damn them! And, to add salt to the wound, by the time I found the book I had been searching for, it was offered only in hardback and rang in at over $25. Now, I love books, and I love *Nsync, but even my love for the two of these combined was not enough for me to sacrifice what was basically left of my bank account. In order to console myself, I headed over to Half-Price Books (where the enviornment and selection is decidedly subpar, but the prices are much more up my alley) and puchased a book of function and a book of desire. I was able to find the Oxford Complete Spanish Dictionary (although an edition or two old) for six dollars, and copy of The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory.

The first book, of course, is merely to serve me well in my upcoming Spanish classes. The Other Boleyn Girl, however, is being made in to a movie sometime fairly soon, and having read a few other Philippa Gregory novels (The Constant Princess, The Queen's Fool) I decided to give this one a try. When I was younger, I went through a phase where I could have sworn that I should have been born in the Renaissance. Forget the lauge, the unfair treament of women, or my hatered of being dirty, all I wanted was a royal court, a pretty gown, and a pony to ride. And all of this, I figured, could have been given to me in that time. Gregory's novels have given me the chance to go back to that time and to, in fact, live there, even if it is for only 600 pages or so. The only complaint I ususally have about Gregory is that her stories, being so long, tend to lag a little in the middle. So, honestly, consider this buy to have been based merely on the fact that there is a movie coming out, starring none other that Scarlett Johansson, Natalie Portman, and Jim Sturgess (who stole my heart in Across the Universe and has yet to give it back!). We'll just have to hope that it works out for the best.

Because I have been suffering from a severe lack of funds as of late (I blame the whole not having a job thing, but who knows!) I've been making much better use of the library as of late. On my desk right now, just waiting to be read, are Girl, Interrupted, Lake of Dead Languages, Tristram Shandy, Lolita, and Like Water for Chocolate. Please don't ask when I'm going to have time to read them, because honeslty, I have no idea either, but I promise that they will be read sooner or later!

And now, because I'm techincally obliged to do so, as a self-described goer to the Church of Books, I'm going to go stew in my anger towards Borders while enjoying The Other Boleyn Girl.

BookMaven

Concerning the Hours in the Day

There just aren't enough of them. Hours, of course. We only get 24-alloted hours, which between sleeping, eating, going to class (a necessary, albeit unfortunate, activity) and reading for school-associated reasons, doesn't leave much time for enjoyable things - like reading.

As you can see, I spent a large portion of my Sunday coming up with my challenge lists for 2008, most of which are rather extensive. I have the hardiest of intentions to compete in the 888 (8 books in 8 categories in 2008) challenge, the Year of Reading Dangerously, and the Decades challenge for 2008. I'm excited, and a little wary. I go back and forth between having a list of books I can choose from (as opposed to having to pick one blindly from the library shelves) and feeling constrained by such a list. We will have to see how it goes!

Up next on the nightstand is The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon. I'm already about 50 pages in to it (thank God for reading through English 205) and so far I'm not entirely sure how to feel about. I'm really interested in the characters, specifically how the backstory is crafted for each one. Sammy, as of yet, has yet to be developed (that would be Clay) where Josef has been given quite the backstory so far (that would be Kavalier). The empahsis placed on disappearing acts a la Houdini and the like is very interesting - I don't think I've ever read a book where so much lock-picking is done within the first 100 pages. The only thing that really remains to put me off is the length of the book. Most books, I've found, don't necessarily need to be as long as they are, making for a sometimes boring read. This book, at about 630 pages, might be one of those books. Then again, it did win the Pulitzer prize, so perhaps its best not to judge it too quickly...

I've given The Time-Travelers Wife to my friend across the hall, sending it off with nothing but the highest of accolades, and I hope she enjoys it as much as I (and anyone else thats read it) did. She likes fantasy books, so I know that part will appeal to her, but I hope that she finds the love story just as touching as I did. I always feel it necessary to offer a sort of disclaimer whenever I reccommend the book to people, because it IS about time travel, which I feel might cause it to be discounted by those who really don't know. Hell, it almost kept me from reading it the first time! I just keep telling people that if they can get past the time traveling/fantasy aspect, then they will find one of the most touching love stories to date.

And with that rather trivial post completed, I'm off to waste some more of those precious 24 hours.

BookMaven

A Good Dusting Off

So, yes. It's been a while. I don't want to hear it! Just kidding! But, seriously, I know its been forever. First, there was that whole moving to college thing. Then, there was the whole trying to get adjusted to college life thing. Then there was the whole falling in a very love-esque type thing the guy next door, confessing my love to him drunkenly, and then being rebuked. All in all, its been a rough...however many weeks its been since I wrote last. On the book front, however, things have remained largely stagnant.

There have been a few reads for my English 205 class, which is entitled Home: Your Place or Mine and has focused largely so far on experimental literature and Australian literature, all of which deals largely with the idea of home as a transitory state of mind, less of a place. It's a very interesting idea, however, the professor doesn't necessarily handle it in the best way. Most of the books we've read have been...lacking in quality. Here follows a brief description. Bare with me...

Snow Geese by William Fiennes: The book is about a man who hates his home. He leaves, follows geese, realizes he loves his home, and goes back. The end.

Eucalyptus by Murray Bail: Its a book about trees. Enough said.

Home by Larissa Beherendt: This book was, shockingly enough, surprisingly well written and a very striking story line. Almost a frame tale, the story follows the main characters Candice's family history, beginning with her grandmother Garibooli, who is an Aboriginal child removed from the Aboriginal tribe and placed in to “English” society, made to work as a maid in an English home. The story then goes through must be two or three generations of failed marriages, happy births, botched careers and maybe even an adultery or two. It's an interesting look at, specifically, the history of Australia, particularly in the context of the darker side of things. The Aboriginal relocation movement really does closely mirror what was done to the American Indians, as far as the move to the reservation and the “civilizing” of the nation. As far as the class goes, its going to get my greatest review thus far.

Reservation Blues by Sherman Alexi: This is another one that I'm going to have to give the so-so. The story itself wasn't necessarily bad, it was actually a rather interesting story. The problem I had with it was when Sherman Alexi began to blur the lines between fantasy and reality to the extent of sacrificing comprehension of the plot. I was totally on board when it came to the Devil-possessed guitar. I was totally down when it came to Big Mom and her magical healing powers, her past of mentoring both Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix. I began to loose help for the book when the lines between Victors dreams and Junior's reality became almost non-existent. It was, however, another interesting look at a more reservation-oriented literature, especially because this book dealt with more modern issues within reservation life – alcoholism, gambling, unemployment, love between tribes. Really, all things considered, its going to have to go second on the in-class list.

Of course, even in college, I haven't been reading just for class. I'm not quite THAT lame. Yet. Then again, thats not to say that I'm reading books of the highest quality, either! Lets recount the all-too-short list, shall we?

Fourth Comings by Megan McCafferty: Alright, alright. I admit it – it really isn't anything but semi-frivolous, overly verbose teen angst literature. But, in all honesty, I couldn't care less. It was the fourth book (although I've learned now, not the final! Eek!) in the McCafferty series, and really wasn't at the caliber I was hoping it would be at! Perhaps its because it didn't end the way I wanted it to end. Perhaps its because there wasn't nearly enough of Marcus in it, which, to be honest, is really one of the main reasons I love that series so much. Maybe its because I really am feeling as though the books really are beginning to drag on for much too long. I don't know. In all honestly, I say that I love it because I love the rest of the series. However, I'm not sure how long the book could stand on its own.

The Darfur Diaries by Jen Marlowe, Aisha Bain, and Adam Shapiro: This book is actually back to more of the autobiography/memoir genre that I got so in to in the spring of last year. Three mid-twenties kids decide, at the break of the Darfur genocide, to sneak over the border from Chad in to Darfur to investigate the effects of the genocide on the people living there. It's a very powerful story, told in a very powerful story. The book apparently goes with some kind of documentary movie of the same name. I never saw the movie, and probably never will. It was a short read, and really fantastic, considering the horror and atrocity of the subject. I won't say, however, that it'll become a top favorite of mine.

The Time Travelers Wife by Audrey Niffenger: Alright, let me clarify! I've read this book before. I promise! I wouldn't have gone this long without reading this fantastic book! And, truth of truths, I was completely out of things to read when I saw this one of my bookshelf and remember just how much I loved it! And, of course, I was right in remembering such. I really, really do enjoy almost every part of this book. Having gone through a rather unfortunate (and hard to admit to) phase of reading romance novels (in all fairness, you try to put them down when you're a hormonal twelve year old and fascinated with the half-embracing naked couple on the front!) this is the best romance in any book I may have ever read. Not only do Henry and Clare interact like a normal couple, but there is always a certain sense of underlying humor, a kind of sarcasm and wit that just gives the whole book a certain...air. This, more than any book I've read recently, has been the kind of laying-in-the-sun-on-a-grassy-hill-with-warm-coffee-and-good-music book that I love more than all the others.

That, unfortunately, recaps the reading list up to date. It is far less impressive than I wish it to be! Which brings me to the next subject – reading lists and reading challenges for the rest of 2007/2008. The list of reading challenges I plan on at least attempting to participate can be found to the left. I'm most nervous about the 888 challenge (8 books in 8 categories in 2008). Thats 56 books – a lofty goal by any means. I'm hoping to do more than just a little bit of cross-over work between challenges, of course. Also to the left you will notice a list of books I'm currently reading, a list of books I want to read shortly, and a list of classic books that I've yet to read (shocking, I know, for a reader like myself) that I wish to read for the rest of the year. There is also a list of book blogs that I've fallen in love with since the last update. I encourage you to go and pay them a visit – they really are fantastic! In short, there really has been quite and update/overhaul of the site, and I couldn't be more happy about it!

Consider your lovely book-maven signing off!
BM

It's The End of the World As We Know It

Okay, so I may be being just a little bit melodramatic. The world itself is not coming to an end. But, in all complete honesty, life is about to change in a very permanent way. That's right, college is just around the corner. 5 days around the corner, as a matter of fact. Uh-huh. I move my entire life from Olathe to Lawrence (I know, I know, it's only a 20 minute drive if you follow all posted speed limits) in just 5 days. So, needless to say, I've been busy with packing and cleaning and saying good-bye. So,as is unfortunately natural in this given situation, the reading has fallen by the wayside. I haven't read a book since I finished Harry Potter (although I did read that one four times, so I guess you could say it took up a fair share of my time) although all of my class books have come in the mail and are now sitting in my sisters room, waiting to be read. I have recently decided that in the next 5 days, I will be re-reading The Great Gatsby by the great F. Scott and Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier. I was also hoping to pick up Fourth Comings by Megan Mcafferty before I left, as it is the fourth and last book in the fantastically teen angst Jessica Darling series (which, if you're ever in the need of a good yet easy book to swallow, I would most definately reccommend. Sloppy Firsts, Second Helpings, Charmed Thirds. In that order). Alas, a SEVERE lack of funds (thank you, $600 credit card bill) has left that as not exactly an option. But, even considering all these things, the hardest part of the past few weeks has been the sorting through and boxing up of the books I wish to take and the books I have to leave. Don't mock me, but I cried.



There are books that I have been surrounded by my entire life. Little Women. Les Miserables. Pride and Prejudice. There are some books recently acquired, but that feel like old friends. They are beautifully written and strikingly haunting. Roomates. How to Breathe Underwater. Perks of Being a Wallflower. There are some books that I feel compelled to take, those given classic nature, books that I feel no shelf is complete without. Jane Eyre. Wuthering Heights. Oliver Twist. And then there are books that I just love, for no reason other than I love them. They have been my friends, my companions. More so than any other books have ever been. They have seen my laugh, they have seen my cry, they have seen me become frustrated with their endings or enthralled with their characters. Those are the books who's pages have been torn. Who's covers have fallen off. Who's margins have been scribble in. Those are the books I suffer most to leave behind. Harry Potter. This Lullaby. The Things They Carried. On the Road. But which of these to take? I feel like they have all earned the right to come with me. But I can't take them all. So do I mix them? Take ones I haven't read yet, hoping to start a new love affair? Ones I've read hundreds of times, knowing how much comfort they've provided me in the past? Those were the kind of thoughts running through my head as a packed up the books that will go, leaving the ones I was forced to deem unworthy (not to hurt their feelings, as they are all fabulous books.) Which ones made the cut, you ask?

*Little Women
*America: A Readers Guide to Democracy Inaction
*Roomates
*Pride and Prejudice
*Perks of Being a Wallflower
*The Bible

There were others, but that is just a small sampling. There are about 15 books I'm taking, if not fewer, so it was quite a task, seeing as how I have over 150 books as of my last count. What can I say, after collecting them for 13 years, I've managed to come up with quite the little library. And now, on to the book discussion.

Okay. Harry Potter. I have to talk about it. I can't not. Harry Potter came out when I was 8. Ten years later, as I'm about to leave home and make some major life changes, Harry has set out with his best friends to save the world, and he comes out victorious. It was a very melancholy experience. Having read all six books again before the release of the 7th, I was struck with just how much Jo's writing style had improved in the years between Sorcerer's Stone and Deathly Hallows. She truly is a writer of her own making. She has, in my mind, earned her place along side Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. Though she writes modern-day novels for a modern-day audience, her style is strikingly beautiful, strikingly relative. And the novel itself was fantastically crafted. By the epilouge, there were no loose strings left to wrap up. Although I found the scene with Dumbledore and the crying baby to be a tad creepy and tedious, I was more than happy to see him make an appearance. I was wishing, however, that Sirius would have made another appearance (as more than just an apparition). I couldn't believe how touched I was at one of the final scenes, when Harry has realized what he must do and has slipped on his invisibility cloak, only to walk around and watch his friends, wishing he could tell them all goodbye. And I even liked the epilouge, which in any other novel I would have found entirely too sweet. I don't ususally don't like my novels to be wrapped up in nice little packages (with those little red bows) - it's too unlike life for my taste - I didn't mind it at all for this novel. A novel going on this long needed an ending with no loose ends, with no questions left. And the epilouge did that nicely. So, all in all, a perfect 10 all the way across the board, although it never could have been any different.

And now, lastly, why Fitzgerald and DuMarier, you ask? Two reasons, both of them drastically different. The Fitzgerald because, when I was required to read it in 11th grade, I didn't really like it (save your gasps, it happens, even to the best of us). Perhaps it was the teacher, perhaps it was because I didn't devote enough time to it, but I didn't see why it was the classic that so many people had proclaimed it to be. So I'm giving it this one last chance, one more final read, hoping that maybe this time I will see something that I missed the first time. The DuMarier, however, I am reading because I fell madly in love with it the first time I read it. I only had two weeks to read the book, analyze it, and write my final paper, so I know I didn't give the book the time it deserved. So that is what I intend to do now. The book was sweeplingly grandiose, hauntingly sad yet lovely at every turn. And the plot twist (which I won't ruin for those who haven't read it) was possibly the best I've ever seen. And so, in these last few days, I pursue both the loved and the lost.