Holidays on Ice by David Sedaris

Holidays on Ice has become one of my favorite holiday traditions. I have an uncanny ability to unintentionally pick up books about war and torture, which is problematic enough during the rest of the year, but around the holidays I’m just not in the mood. Nor, however, do I want to read sappy crap about puppies that save people’s marriages or other lame-ass Christmas miracles. Holidays on Ice always fits the bill.

It’s a collection of David Sedaris’s holiday-themed short stories, many (all?) of which are plucked from his other books. Anyone who’s ever barfed over a Christmas letter will delight in the parody “Season’s Greetings to Our Friends and Family!!!” And anyone who’s suffered through an elementary school production of any kind will find a kindred spirit in “Front Row Center with Thaddeus Bristol.” But my favorite story of all is “SantaLand Diaries,” Sedaris’s hilarious reflections on the winter he spent working as a mall elf.

So, while I will always encourage you to buy one of my books to give to everyone on your list, you really can’t go wrong with this one either. Whatever you read, boycott torture for the season. Happy holidays!

Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins

Like a lot of nerdy and ungainly girls, I went through a Tom Robbins phase in high school. His playful love of women appealed to us earnest and hopeful types.

Then I got sick of his writing style and abandoned him completely for 20 years.

So when my book club picked Jitterbug Perfume for its next selection, I was looking forward to revisiting my old friend—though I was slightly worried that the pages might engulf me back into some tedious adolescent throes.

I needn’t have worried. I found Tom Robbins to be as enjoyable as ever, and nothing about his work compelled me to gnash my teeth and write bad poetry.

Story: Ancient Bohemian king Alobar escapes certain cultish death and sets off on a mission to extend his life indefinitely, accompanied by suttee escapee and love interest Kudra. Also, modern-day perfumers battle it out to recreate a mesmerizing scent that will earn them eternal fragrance fame.

Themes: Perfume, immortality, and beets. Yep, you read that right.

Writing: This book’s themes are compelling, but people really read Robbins for his writing. And it is good—very good—intricate and witty like few other authors out there. His sense of humor, in fact, is the closest to my husband’s I’ve ever encountered on this earth—though (rather like my husband’s punny episodes) it is relentless, best in smaller doses. By the end of Jitterbug Perfume I definitely needed a break.

Best thing about it: Alobar’s journey is captivating from the first pages.

Worst thing about it: The modern-day characters are never fully developed. They feel more like distractions from the main plot.

Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Story: In the 1960s, the southeastern provinces of Nigeria attempted to secede and form an independent nation called Biafra. Adichie tells the story of this civil war through the experiences of five characters: a professor who passionately supports the revolution; a teenage houseboy from a rural village; a British transplant who’s fallen in love with Nigeria; and upper-class twin sisters with a stormy relationship.

Writing: Literary but totally accessible. The story is told in third person and switches back and forth between the various characters’ perspectives. The structure is clever—the book starts in the early 1960s, moves to the late 1960s, and then switches back to the early 1960s before finishing with the late 1960s—enabling Adichie to drive readers into a frenzy of curiosity when she hints at “missing” events throughout the middle of the book.

Best thing about it: Half of a Yellow Sun has a great balance of character and plot. Adichie brings the true events of the revolution to life through well-drawn, likable characters. And the creative structure really keeps you guessing.

Worst thing about it: I got nothing. It’s a good read and a beautiful tribute to Adichie’s own family members who lived through the conflict.

Born Standing Up by Steve Martin
Narrated by Steve Martin

I know this is probably incredible for a person who, like, reads all the time and writes stupid book reviews, but I think this was the first biography I’ve ever read! I just…don’t really care about the lives of famous people. So there it is. But this one was relatively interesting and very short. If you’re looking for a good starter biography, you might want to check this one out.

Story: Steve Martin reflects on his years (and years and years) trying to make it as a stand-up comedian. Martin details all the hard work, all the failures, all the practice, all the mean reviews—and then all the humongous success. This isn’t the story of Martin’s whole life, just his childhood and his years doing stand-up. His life in the 80s and beyond remains a mystery.

Writing: I know what you’re thinking—this book is going to be hilarious! Well, you’d be wrong. This isn’t a book of comedy; it’s a book about comedy, and the life of a person who’s famous for it. Martin is certainly a competent writer and a smart dude, but if you’re looking for knee-slappers, this is not the book for you.

Themes: Damn, it’s hard trying to make it as an artist. And when you actually do, it’s overrated.

Best thing about it: It’s always good to remember that even the most famous among us had to work their tails off for decades to get where they are. And it’s good to remember that success is a mixed bag.

I really enjoyed hearing about Martin’s adventures in California, since I know the places. And, as weird as this sounds, I was able to confirm that my husband’s pronunciation of Knotts Berry Farm is probably right, since Martin says it the same way.

Worst thing about it: Because the book is driven by an actual life, it can lack shape; there are times it feels like just a list of places and people. And, well, it would have been better if it were funny.

Audiobook insights: Definitely get the audiobook. It’s cool to hear a book narrated by a voice you know and a person you can picture. And it takes the edge off some of the boring parts.

Final thoughts: This has nothing to do with my book review, but my husband thinks he performed the same night as pre-fame Martin at a Pasadena comedy club back in the 70s. Pretty cool, no?

The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck

I’m going to tell you the plain truth: This book was so depressing that it took me two years to read. And I actually like depressing books. So suck on that for a while.

Even so, I actually kind of love it. I appreciate its greatness. I appreciate its anger and honesty. I appreciate that a book like this, if published today, would probably be read by about half a thousand critics and six readers, each of whom would write a useless strongly-worded letter to some farming authority. Meanwhile Steinbeck, the lucky dog, gets to punish high school students throughout eternity with the bleakest tale of western migration ever told.

But here are the juicy details.

Setting: Oklahoma to California in the 1930s.

Story: Victims of changing practices in the farming industry, the members of the voluminous Joad family have been cast off their Oklahoma land. So they head out to California, where they’ve been told they’ll find work a-plenty, pickin’ peaches and baskin’ in the sun. Then all the bad things in the world happen.

Writing: The majority of the story is told from the perspectives of various family members and is thus written in “Okie” dialect. This, as authentic as it surely is, can get really annoying. However, Steinbeck incorporates these interludes in his own language that are magically beautiful.

Themes: This is really an ultimate man vs. The Man kind of story—a family simply trying to scrape by with a little dignity, beaten down at every turn by a system that is both nonsensical and inhumane.

But what’s the deal, you wonder, with the “grapes of wrath”? It really sounds like some freaky Stephen King plot where the grapes fling themselves off the vines and burrow into people’s eyeballs. I drove all through California last weekend and could not stop staring at all those creepy little buggers on the hillsides.

But that, it turns out, is not the meaning at all. The book’s thematic climax spells it out:

“There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success. The fertile earth, the straight tree rows, the sturdy trunks, and the ripe fruit. And children dying of pellagra must die because a profit cannot be taken from an orange. And coroners must fill in the certificate—died of malnutrition—because the foot must rot, must be forced to rot.

“The people come with nets to fish for potatoes in the river, and the guards hold them back; they come in rattling cars to get the dumped oranges, but the kerosene is sprayed. And they stand still and watch the potatoes float by, listen to the screaming pigs being killed in a ditch and covered with quick-lime, watch the mountains of oranges slop down to a putrefying ooze; and in the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.”

So relax. You don’t need to be afraid of the grapes. Unless you are of course The Man, and then the people are coming for you.

Best thing about it: This is an important book. It just is. You can tell when you read it, even when you hate it.

Worst thing about it: Well, you know. It’s really freaking depressing.

Final thoughts: You should probably read it. I’m just sayin’.

The Island by Elin Hilderbrand

Okay, I love my Kindle, but there is just one little problem with it that only major snobs like yours truly will appreciate: it doesn’t really let you see the covers, so you can’t exactly figure out what genre you are considering.

Thus me purchasing The Island.

Yes, I did read the sample, and that should have delivered a healthy dose of caveat emptor. But it didn’t (my brain was addled by vacation; I was trying to find something light; the sample mentioned weddings; I just went for it). And then I was stuck with incredibly lengthy chick lit that I was too, er, tenacious to stop reading.

Let me be clear, though: this isn’t a bad book. It’s just kind of a pointless one, and very long for a book that has neither a thrills-a-minute plot nor thematic depth. I thought chick lit was supposed to be short and sweet, maybe even funny and charming, but The Island is fairly serious. To me it’s lying in limbo, somewhere between a beach read and a literary novel.

Setting: Modern-day Tuckernuck, an ultra-rustic island off of Nantucket.

Story: Mom, two daughters, and aunt spend a month together at their family’s vacation home on a remote island. Each is dealing with a relationship issue: a divorce; a broken engagement; a dead husband and potential lesbian lover; and a lifelong crush that hasn’t materialized. Each woman must work through her issues, past and present, with her love interest(s) and her female relations.

Themes: Sibling rivalry; the nature of love; guilt and forgiveness.

Writing: It’s fine. Nothing that will knock your socks off, but nothing bad either. It’s just really long. (Have I mentioned that?)

Best thing about it: Lesbians?

Worst thing about it: It’s just doesn’t have enough depth for a novel that is all about feelings and relationships. And it has a ridiculously unbelievable stepmom sub-plot that had me rolling my eyes.

Final thoughts: The Island would probably make a satisfying beach read for many women, but I just wasn’t one of them.

This Is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Tropper

Story: Judd is a sad sack. He’s been dumped, humiliated, and stripped of employment. Needless to say, he’s at an all-time low—and his father has the gall to make it even worse by dying…and then requesting that his wife and four children all sit shiva. So back to his parents’ house Judd goes, hanging out with his dysfunctional family for a week as he mourns the loss of his father, his wife, and the life he thought he had in the bag.

Writing: This is where Tropper really shines. Despite the depressing subject matter, the book is a quick and witty read, with great comic phrasing and characterization. This is ugly real life in all its hilarious glory, and I’m all over that shizzle.

Yeah, I said shizzle.

Themes: No one gets the life s/he expected. Terrible things happen, people get old and lumpy, and you make the best of what you’ve got. The book really explores the meaning of family relationships—what it is to be a child, a sibling, a spouse, a parent—and all the fine twisted love and torture that lie therein.

Yeah, I said therein.

Best thing about it: Writing!

Worst thing about it: I can’t really say without revealing too much about the plot, but there’s something that happens near the end that I find all too convenient.

Final thoughts: One of the most enjoyable books I’ve read in a while.

Little Bee by Chris Cleave

Setting: Modern-day London and Nigeria.

Story: Okay, I’m going to go along with the book’s marketing team on this one—I can’t really tell you. But the fulcrum of the story involves a British couple, two Nigerian teenagers, and a horrific event on a Nigerian beach that—you know—changes their lives forever.

Writing: The narrative switches between the first-person perspectives of Sarah (the British woman) and Little Bee (one of the Nigerian teenagers). Little Bee’s language is especially entertaining and rhythmic, though at first I thought it was a little patronizing.

Themes: Some pretty heavy stuff underpins this novel: immigration and the treatment of refugees; globalization and its human cost; the meaning and impact of self-sacrifice; what makes a life worth living (or not). It’s meaty, man.

Best thing about it: Interesting plot and Little Bee’s perspective.

Worst thing about it: I found Sarah a bit tedious and her son a lot tedious.

Final thoughts: A good choice for book clubs. You can all ask each other what you would do during the big secret event that I can’t tell you about.

Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

Okay, so you know how sometimes you just never read a classic book for years and years—because even as an English major you can’t possibly read all of them in college—and then you finally get around to it and you realize that it is some missing piece of your soul that has finally come home to rest?

Well, this wasn’t one of those times. It’s true that I managed not to read Heart of Darkness till now, but I kinda wish it had stayed that way. It’s one of those books that skates by on its historical significance and once-revolutionary themes, so no one bothers to mention the totally crappy storytelling.

John and I read this for our own personal book club, and basically spent the entire discussion complaining about it and tallying up all the things we wished Conrad would have done instead.

But let’s break it down.

Setting: Late 19th century, England and the Congo

Story: Naive English dude becomes a ferry-boat captain headed to the Congo. He is charged with 1) transporting ivory, and 2) picking up a guy named Kurtz, who is some fiendishly successful ivory trader who needs to be returned to civilization. Kurtz is a genius, they say, but seems to be dabbling in some shady practices.

Themes: As good little 19th century Brits, we all know that the “heart of darkness” refers to the jungle itself, the black-skinned heathens who live there. Or does it? Could it be that raping the African land in the name of Christianizing the savages is not such a pure motive after all, that true darkness perhaps germinates in the human soul?

Writing: I have no complaints with Conrad’s style. It’s the freaking plot and structure.

First, the whole thing is a frame story, which as far as I can tell has no function except to jolt the reader out of the story periodically for no good reason. But the main problem is that the book fails to deliver the goods. Conrad piques our interest for pages and pages about this Kurtz fellow. All the characters go on at length about his persuasive methods, his amazing speeches, his heroic proportions. And Conrad never shows us, never tells us, never gives us any satisfying details about who Kurtz actually is or what Kurtz actually does. I walked away from this book with literary blue balls, and I’m still angry about it.

Best thing about it: It’s short.

Worst thing about it: See “writing” above.

Final thoughts: Watch Apocalypse Now instead. It’s actually supposed to be an adaptation of Heart of Darkness, though from what I understand (I’ve only seen the big famous scene with the Wagner) it actually has a good plot.

A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood
Narrated by Simon Prebble

Setting: Los Angeles in the 1960s

Story: Gay English professor George has just lost his longtime partner. We follow him through the aftermath of the event and his silent, secret grief.

Themes: The feeling of isolation even when surrounded by others. As a gay man, a Brit, a professor, a man of a certain age, George moves through a heavily populated world in which he constantly stands apart.

Writing: Literary. This is a character study of the truest sort, an intimate step-into-my-brain kind of adventure.

Best thing about it: Hollywood has glutted our hearts and minds with jolly, fabulous gay men. It’s refreshing to see an old gay grump.

Worst thing about it: I can’t exactly put my finger on the reason, but this book just never totally seized me as I wished it would.

Audiobook insights: Narrator Simon Prebble captures George’s bitter outlook with the perfect sardonic tone.

Final thoughts: If you like character studies, A Single Man is totally solid. Those looking for a zippier plot should look elsewhere.