Tales of the South Pacific by James A. Michener

Fawcett, 1984. ISBN 978-0-449-20652-2

Many books can be read in a day, but only a few of them are books worth reading in one sitting. Fewer still are difficult to put down. Tales of the South Pacific is one of those rarities. Everything- the narrator, the setting, to each individual tale, is spellbinding. Michener weaves each individual story together to one cohesive theme, and whisks the readers away to the beautiful, wild South Pacific to languish on ‘the rock’ with soldiers and sailors alike.

I am familiar with the movie-musical South Pacific but I have never read the book. I started reading it outside of the polls on Election Day, and finished it that evening. The whole book flows perfectly, no spot or line drags- no word feels out of place. Even though the narrator darts around the islands, you are carried along on his back, his witty thoughts whispered in your ear and observing the raucous Navy soldiers trying to “hurry up and wait” the War. The musical adaptation does the book justice, and takes everything a step further than the book even attempted.

The singular negative aspect of this book- which, as I am learning, is common to books written in an era before our own- is the racist tropes and stereotypes at play in all of the Pacific Islander characters. This book is peppered with them- all fall under the overarching themes of Yellow Peril. Bloody Mary, who has the most agency of all the Pacific Islanders featured, is still yet reduced to a mixture of Asian Store-Owner and Asian Speekee Engrish. It is important to note that the movie-musical South Pacific shames Joe Cable for his inability to overcome his racist beliefs to remain with Liat- but in the book, he is simply embarrassed for having been with her at all. The mentions of Vanicoro island and its ‘cannibals’ also is a dated racist stereotype.

From here, the book is a detailed description of how the Navy took an island (with plenty more of Yellow Peril stereotypes of the nameless Japanese characters) and then the outset of the Alligator operation. I know very little of the Pacific Theater of World War II, so the fictionalized version was fascinating to me. While there are no analogues to the islands that the author featured in the book, I can only imagine the absolute beauty- and devastating humidity- that the characters endured.

The fact that this book received a Pulitzer Prize is not lost on me. The literary qualities of this book deserve recognition, and with that recognition should come a discussion of the racist stereotypes employed in the characters. I do suggest reading this book- if you are willing to engage with it and its topics. Reading books with difficult themes, subjects, and methods of characterization are important to understand how real people acted and believed in a time before our own.

The Chemist by Stephenie Meyer

Little, Brown and Company, 2016. ISBN 978-0-316-38783-5

Summary, from cover:
In this gripping page-turner, an ex-agent on the run from her former employers must take one more case to clear her name and save her life.

She used to work for the U.S. government, but very few people ever knew that. An expert in her field, she was one of the darkest secrets of an agency so clandestine it doesn’t even have a name. And when they decided she was a liability, they came for her without warning.

Now she rarely stays in the same place or uses the same name for so long. They’ve killed the only other person she trusted, but something she knows still poses a threat. They want her dead, and soon.

When her former handler offers her a way out, she realizes it’s her only chance to erase the giant target on her back. But it means taking one last job for her ex-employers. To her horror, the information she acquires makes her situation even more dangerous.

Resolving to meet the threat head-on, she prepares for the toughest fight of her life but finds herself falling for a man who can only complicate her likelihood of survival. As she sees her choices being rapidly whittled down, she must apply her unique talents in ways she never dreamed of.

In this tautly plotted novel, Stephenie Meyer creates a fierce and fascinating new heroine with a very specialized skill set. And she knows once again why she’s one of the world’s bestselling authors.

My thoughts (spoilers ahead):
The Chemist is good, but not excellent. This novel doesn’t live up to the hype on its cover by the summary or the blurbs. While the characters were great, there were some inconsistencies that perturbed me. I also take issue with how the book is framed in regard to plot and topic. Overall, The Chemist is readable, but not recommendable.

The cover summary explicitly calls The Chemist a “tautly plotted novel.” It, most definitely, is not. A tautly plotted novel would not be over 500 pages in length, and it would not have long passages where the protagonist waffles about her decisions. The foreshadowing moments are blatantly obvious. Nothing is hidden in between the lines. I felt that the author was spelling everything out for the reader, and while “the department” didn’t have a name, the name was useless when we were given an explicit description of what “the department” did. There was no mystery, no redirection. The department does X, the protagonist does Y. It was all out there for the reader to see.

Except for one thing- how our protagonist went from being indifferent to deeply in love. I felt that in the chapter or two between how our protagonist interrogates him and falling in love with him… felt rushed. While the reader had to wait for her to tell her love interest her feelings, the internal monologue we read essentially put forth that she was in love with him the entire time. Plus, everything the love interest did felt more like love-bombing than actual romantic overtures. Nothing felt genuine between the two of them. Even approaching the situation from the “two traumatized people find love” angle, their interactions felt a little shallow to me.

I do enjoy reading political/spy/black ops thrillers, although I don’t enjoy them when the book focuses on a HouseofCards style corruption situation. It only works for House of Cards! Give it up, people! The Corrupt Politician trope is too overplayed in books like this. Especially when everything is tinged with a “don’t trust the government, it’s out to get you!” messaging. I would have been more fascinated by double-crossing, the relationship between the two handlers… anything except it all coming down to a corrupt politician who wants to clean up his act before running for President. C’mon. Be a little more original- the author is capable of it!

Overall, The Chemist was OK- not something I would read again, or recommend to anyone else. If I needed to recommend a Meyer book, I would recommend Twilight. Nothing about The Chemist felt fresh or different from other works in the genre. I feel that the plot, in effort to remain tight- ended up skipping over things that mattered. The tropes at play in this book felt stale, and weren’t interesting enough for me. If Stephenie Meyer tries again, I know I would read it- just not this book ever again.

Altitude Adjustment by Mary Beth Baptiste

TwoDot, 2014. ISBN 978-0762791347

Summary, from cover:
Aware that her youth is slipping by, Mary Beth Baptiste decides to escape her lackluster, suburban life in coastal Massachusetts to pursue her lifelong dream of being a Rocky Mountain woodswoman. To the horror of her traditional, ethnic family, she divorces her husband of fifteen years, dusts off her wildlife biology degree, and flees to Moose, Wyoming for a job at Grand Teton National Park. There, unexpected lessons from nature and wildlife guide her journey as she creates a new life for herself. Set against the dramatic backdrop and quirky culture of Jackson Hole, this is a thoughtful, often humorous account of a woman’s bumbling quest for purpose, redemption, and love.

My thoughts:
Altitude Adjustment is not what the summary attempts to reveal itself to be. This book is more of a meditation on independence, community, and the pursuit of a dream. Baptiste is a relatable author, detailing her re-entry into an outdoor lifestyle without the hand-waving authority of many other similar authors. I found this book to be a strong entry into the genre of woodswoman authors, and a recommended read to all women who wish to return to a life they left behind.

I first want to focus on how this book is a meditation on independence and community. During the portions where Baptiste discusses her divorce and complex family life, you can feel her trying to push at the boundaries- earning two Master’s degrees, yet admittedly reluctantly marrying her husband. The yearning for independence is in between each word, a slinking coyote of a dream… something she thinks she won’t have, but eventually catches with enough perseverance. The contrast to her desire for independence is her craving for community at the Park. Baptiste fleshes out the others working at the Park, making each person more than a character. I wouldn’t consider her attempts at friendships and romantic relationships as bumbling- she attempts them with alacrity and maturity. It is difficult to make friends as an adult, and Baptiste puts herself out there and tries her best. My only complaint is that I wished she wrote more about her friendships with the women at the park.

This book is not just about how a woman divorced her husband and left the confines of a close family- it is also about how she pursued a dream to live and work in the Grand Tetons. She shared the story of how the seed of Baptiste speaks of the natural world in a clear, straightforward manner. She doesn’t use jargon do describe her work. Her feelings of pleasure and wonder translates well into writing, and I enjoyed her detailed trips to survey wildlife the most. Baptiste’s ongoing adventures with the bears of the Park were awesome, and I felt like I know more about what rangers do with bears before. She writes frankly about the dangers of the Park without terrifying the reader- the dangers are a part of life, and you must accept them to fully enjoy it for yourself.

Most importantly, Baptiste does not gatekeep any aspect of her dreams, life, or what she did to achieve them. I find that similar authors often make their life seem unattainable, or for only for the very most special outdoorsy people (aka: ultrafit white men). Baptiste is honest in saying she was barely physically fit and 15 years post-college. She shares that it took dedication, hard work, and a dogged determination to continue trying. She doesn’t mention that she needed specific fancy gear or or a certain group of friends. It took herself and her own mind. She decides to do it- then goes out and does it. She didn’t wait for a special invitation, she applied until she got a job and then hauled up her life and went. She had a dream in her heart, and she hung on to it until she could make it real.

Overall, I think Altitude Adjustment is a memoir in the vein of classic outdoors writing, and should be considered as such. Mary Beth Baptiste is an inspiring person that had to wait to enact her life’s dream, and did so with a determination that is not common among the average folk. She writes of her life, work, and passions with clear and accessible language. I would recommend this book to anyone curious about life in a National Park, or looking to be inspired to reach back into their hearts and grab on to their dreams.

The Seven Sisters by Lucinda Riley

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Pan Books, 2015. ISBN: 978-1-4472-1864-7

Summary, from back of book:
Maia D’Apliese and her five sisters gather together at their childhood home of Atlantis- a fabulous, secluded castle situated on the shores of Lake Geneva- having been told that their beloved father, the elusive billionaire they call Pa Salt, has died.

Maia and her sisters were all adopted by him as babies and, discovering he has already been buried at sea, each of the is handed a tantalizing clue to their true heritage- a clue which takes Maia across the world to a crumbling mansion in Rio de Janerio in Brazil. Once there, she begins to put together the pieces of where her story began…

Eighty years earlier, in the Belle Epoque of Rio, 1927, Izabela Bonifacio’s father has aspirations for his daughter to marry into aristocracy. Meanwhile, architect Heitor da Silva Costa is working on a statue, to be called Christ the Redeemer, and will soon travel to Paris to find the right sculptor for his vision.

Izabela- passionate and longing to see the world- convinces her father to allow her to accompany him and his family to Europe before she is married. There, at Paul Landowski’s studio and in the heady, vibrant cafes of Montparnasse, she meets ambitious young sculptor Laurent Brouilly, and knows at once that her life will never be the same again.

My thoughts:
It took me a while before I realized that this is the first book in a series. This is both a good thing and a bad thing, as I have almost 60 books to read lying around the house. However, this can be amended and I will try to find the others at my local library. This book was an enjoyable dip into Brazilian history, and while the premise is a little… outrageous, I liked it.

Okay, okay, the premise is truly outrageous. Six women that have been adopted by a billionaire named Pa Salt meet at their childhood castle on the shores of Lake Geneva. First, what on earth is a billionaire doing adopting six girls? Second, why isn’t he married, and what relation does the nanny have to him? Then third, what does he do for a living? While I know the author wanted me to simply accept the situation, I couldn’t. I like a decent amount of exposition, especially for a book as thick and with a wild as premise as this one. I struggled through every scene set at Atlantis. These were the parts that drug for me, and the places where I would stick in my bookmark and set the book down. However, I really loved the historical sections set in Brazil and France.

Lucinda Riley is an excellent writer of historical fiction. Brazil leapt to life from the page, and I was immediately cast into the Bonifacio’s opulent mountainside villa, I felt the wind whipping at my back on the top of Corcovado Mountain, and I could feel the clay under my fingers in Landowski’s studio. The dialogue was top-notch, and the language of the Roaring 20s felt natural to read. I felt deeply for Izabela, and I waited for the chapters dedicated to her story with baited breath. I wish that I had felt the same for Maia, but her life was too outrageous for me to accept.

Overall, this book wasn’t a quick read- at over 600 pages, I whipped through this book in a matter of days, even with the slow parts. While the life setting was a little wild, the historical settings were pitch-perfect and flowed. Even though I have many other books to read, I will keep this series at the back of my mind to look for while at the library.

Acquired Tastes by Peter Mayle

acquiredtastes

Bantam, 1993. ISBN: 0-553-37183-5

Summary, from back cover:
In Acquired Tastes, Peter Mayle, the erudite sojourner and New York Times bestselling author of A Year in Provence and Toujours Provence, sets off once more, traveling the world in search of the very best life has to offer. Whether telling us where to buy the world’s best caviar or how to order a pair of thirteen-hundred-dollar custom-made shoes, advising us on the high cost of keeping a mistress in style or the pros and cons of household servants, he covers everything the well-heeled – and those vicariously so inclined- need to know to enjoy the good life.

From gastronomy to matrimony, from the sartorial or baronial, Acquired Tastes is Peter Mayle’s most delicious book yet- an irreverently spiced smorgasboard of rich dishes you’re sure to enjoy.

My thoughts:
When the Chicago Sun-Times only says a book is “Intriguing.” in the endorsement of a book, you know it’s going to be a flop. I was very disappointed in this book, especially after being an ardent fan of A Year in Provence. This book felt empty in comparison. Yes- the articles were funny, but they felt too lordly for me. Possibly this is my own personal feelings for the wealthy, but the knowledge that Mayle had actually lived this life made this book rather distasteful. I would have much rather read a book by a “poor” man experiencing these things for the first time rather than a man who had actually lived the life.

Obviously, this is not the cream of the crop concerning Mayle’s work. He has the ability to write delightful gastronomic adventure stories- pick up any of his Provincial books and you’ll find yourself lunching in the French countryside. This book fell short of that standard. Obviously, these articles were intended for being in a magazine, as they are written perfectly for a short column, but as a book, they don’t work together. His sense of humor changes from here to there, and occasionally he waxes on a little more than he should have, while in other cases (especially concerning the caviar) I would have appreciated more context.

Alas, not every book is perfect. While I have written some “I’m disappointed” reviews lately, this was a quick read, well-suited for a summer afternoon without many cares in the world. A great book for when I want to read without paying much attention to it, like I have been with Tess of the D’Urbervilles. This book is definitely that can be tossed aside for whenever a better book comes along, and provide a brief interlude when another book becomes too heavy.