2011 POC Challenge Wrap-Up

This was my second year doing the POC reading challenge. I signed up at level five (16-25 books) and was happy that I achieved my goal by reading 17 books by authors of color. Last year in my wrap-up post I noted that I was disappointed that I hadn't read more books with authors of color (rather than books with protagonists of color but white authors), so I made it a point to focus on that this year. Here's what I read:

Books read:
1. Drinking Coffee Elsewhere by ZZ Packer
2. The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey by Walter Mosley
3. Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman by Haruki Murakami
4. Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor
5. The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by N.K. Jemisin
6. Complications by Atul Gawande
7. Wench by Dolen Perkins-Valdez
8. Luka and the Fire of Life by Salman Rushdie
9. In Other Rooms, Other Wonders by Daniyal Mueenuddin
10. The Broken Kingdoms by N.K. Jemisin
11. Pym by Mat Johnson
12. Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese 
13. Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami 
14. River of Smoke by Amitav Ghosh 
15. The Kingdom of Gods by N.K. Jemisin 
16. Is Everybody Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) by Mindy Kaling 
17. Dreams From My Father by Barack Obama

Books by white authors with protagonists of color: (not counted toward challenge)
- Gardens of Water by Alan Drew
- Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacigalupi
- The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down by Anne Fadiman
- Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman

By far my favorite books were from Jemisin's Hundred Thousand Kingdoms trilogy. I loved each book in her fantasy series. I also enjoyed River of Smoke, a sequel to a book I read a few years back. My least favorite books were Wench and Cutting for Stone.

Like last year, I realized that it takes some work to consistently read authors of color. I made a point of actively seeking such authors in the beginning of the year, but there was a five month gap in between reading my 11th and 12th books for the challenge. It was too easy to be exposed to primarily white authors.

I'm glad I did the challenge again, especially because I've met some great authors like Jemisin, Murakami, and Ghosh.

"Dreams From My Father" by Barack Obama

I voted for Obama in 2008 and will do so again in 2012, but I realized that, like with most politicians, I don't know a whole about him personally, beyond the basics. Dreams From My Father, written well before his presidential and senate days, seemed an ideal place to start.

Obama's memoir is an interesting, though not especially absorbing, book. Though it's personal in its exploration of issues of identity and race, there's a certain aloofness to it as well. I learned a lot about Obama's early life, his complicated family, and his struggle to define himself, but I didn't feel like I got to know Obama as a whole. The cool and calm demeanor he's known for now seemed always present.

However, there's a lot to gain from Dreams beyond studying Obama himself. He's especially astute in discussing the black experience in America and the difficulties of improving individuals' and communities' lives. Obama spends a while discussing his time as an organizer in Chicago. It's admirable work but extraordinarily frustrating; I kept finding myself becoming cynical about anyone's ability to enact change. When he travels to Kenya to meet his family through his father's side, he's able to compare and contrast the lives of people in two very separate countries.

From Dreams From My Father I learned about Obama's early life, and I appreciated his analysis of race, but I feel like I missed out on connecting to him as a person. Of course, that's what I wanted out of the book, not necessarily what Obama intended, and perhaps what he did discuss was more important for me to read.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"Is Everybody Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)" by Mindy Kaling

Fair or not, Kaling's book is bound to be compared to Tina Fey's Bossypants. In fact, I'm going to compare them. It's hard not to--both women are television comedy writers and actors for popular quirky shows that appear on the same night on NBC, and their books address similar topics (childhood, the entertainment business) through a similar structure. In the end, I enjoyed Fey's book more, though that's not to say Kaling's work is not enjoyable.

Kaling had a reassuringly "good" and average upbringing (nice to be reminded that celebrities tend to start as "one of us"), though her stories of post-college life are funnier. She describes trying to make it in New York (I especially enjoyed her description of her audition for the musical Bollywood Nights) and her recognition with the creation of the play Matt and Ben, which landed her the Office job. She spends a lot of time on her female friendships, relationships which are so close as to have made me a bit jealous.

Kaling and Fey are both willing to make fun of themselves, which I think is essential for any kind of celebrity writer. Nevertheless, you come away from Fey's book thinking, "Damn, that woman is scary competent." On the other hand, I found myself periodically thinking "Wow, Kaling's so lucky to have stumbled onto this Office gig" and then having to correct myself. Obviously Kaling is an intelligent and talented writer who earned her place, but she's so self-deprecating that you begin to doubt it. I think this is a shame.

Kaling is on one of my favorite television shows, and she has written some of its best episodes, but for me, the book only elicited the occasional chuckle. Kaling felt more like a very open friend than a professional comedian (though she'd probably denounce that title), though even so the book left me a bit cold. Nevertheless, the book is slim and a quick read, so I wouldn't discourage anyone from trying it.

P.S. Something I learned from Is Everyone and Bossypants (and everything I've ever seen her in): Amy Poehler is awesome. Where's your book, Amy?

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"The Kingdom of Gods" by N.K. Jemisin

Though I had read some negative and middling reviews online, I enjoyed the last book in Jemisin's trilogy, The Kingdom of the Gods, no less than its predecessors The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms and The Broken Kingdoms. Whereas the second book takes place in the same world as the first but with almost completely new characters, the third book picks up characters from the first and second, giving it a greater sense of familiarity. In this novel, the protagonist is Sieh, the trickster boy godling who played an important role in Yeine's life in the first novel. Sieh becomes involved with two Arameri children, Shahar and Dekarta, and inexplicably begins to become mortal. Though this theme is repeated from Broken Kingdoms, in which the god Itempas lived life as a mortal man, Sieh's transformation and relationships with others are significantly different, and his story feels different too.

The tagline on the cover of this book is "Gods and mortals. Power and love. Death and revenge. She will destroy them all," which doesn't make a lot of sense. The only "she" it could possibly refer to is Shahar, which overstates her importance. This is a book foremost about Sieh, which makes it the first of Jemisin's books to be narrated by a man and by a god. Sieh lives in an interesting world--though he's powerful as an ancient godling, he also is not part of the three gods (Yeine, Nahadoth, and Itempas) and thus feels loneliness, made even more acute by his character as a youthful childish boy. Other reviewers have found him dislikable, but I didn't find him so; he's not perfect, but that's in keeping with who he is. I also enjoyed his relationships with Shahar and Dekarta, even though the intensity of his relationship with Deka comes rather suddenly.

The gods are somewhat more human in this book than in others, likely because we see them through a godling's eyes. Both Nahadoth and Itempas are less standoffish and more caring, though they perhaps lose some of their mystisticism because of it. The gods also play a more direct role in human affairs, which is somewhat of a shame, since mortals did so much on their own in the previous two books.

The climax did seem to come a bit suddenly, and the "surprise" of the villain was a bit contrived. Nonetheless, in the end, I found Kingdom of Gods a satisfying conclusion to a series I've greatly enjoyed.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"River of Smoke" by Amitav Ghosh

When I first began River of Smoke, primarily about the opium trade in China by foreign merchants, I was a little doubtful. I'd absolutely loved Sea of Poppies, the precursor to River of Smoke in the Ibis trilogy, and had even named it one of my top ten books of 2009. But now, years later, I couldn't really remember why I liked the first book, and I almost felt reluctant in picking up this historical epic. However, I soon began noticing how immersed I was in the story and how quickly the pages flew by--in short, River of Smoke is as utterly engrossing as the previous novel.

This is truly something to commend Ghosh on, for in River of Smoke he has less sympathetic characters than in Sea of Poppies. Where that novel features poor lovers on the run and burgeoning young romance, River of Smoke's main protagonist is Bahram, an Indian opium trader, and its story focuses primarily on Bahram and the American and British traders pushing against China's decision to prohibit the sale of opium. Their cause is without merit and is presented so in the novel, yet the reader is still completely drawn in.

Interestingly, the novel has almost no female characters as women are not permitted in Canton, the primary city of foreign trade. Away from the influences of their traditional society (and women), the men live a different way of life. Male friendships are deep, and the men even dance together at functions! Although there's some teasing from others, it's normal for some men take other men as "Friends" and pursue long term relationships. Furthermore, men of different races, ethnicities, and nationalities mix and socialize together in a way that never would have been possible in England or the U.S.

Of course, when push comes to shove and Chinese officials begin cracking down on the traders, this world also starts crumbling. Homophobic epithets are thrown at those who sympathize with the Chinese objectives, and Bahram recognizes that he'd quickly be sacrificed for an American or British man. It's at this point that Bahram becomes particularly sympathetic. Overall, he is a good man succeeding in a way very few Indian men could at this point, a time in which their country was controlled by the British. He has succeeded in being respected among his fellow merchants, yet that's not enough to ensure him protection in the end.

I was worried that having forgotten much of Sea of Poppies would be a detriment, but River of Smoke is more a companion novel than a sequel. Though some characters reappear from the previous story, this novel is a wholly separate story, not a continuation, and it would not be necessary to read Sea of Poppies to read River of Smoke.

Ghosh is a talented storyteller. The entire world of the novel is rich in detail, and the use of local language and terms adds authenticity. He writes about a fascinating (and utterly shameful for the American and British) period in history, but it's his characters that bring the novel to life.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"Kafka on the Shore" by Haruki Murakami

The first Murakami book I read, Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman, was frustratingly obtuse and enticingly enigmatic. It was that combination of reality and the weird, of wanting to throw the book at the wall and immediately pick it up again, that ultimately made it memorable. Blind Willow is a collection of short stories, and I wondered how Murakami's style would do in a novel, so I chose Kafka on the Shore.

Unfortunately, I wasn't nearly as intrigued by this book as I was with my first Murakami foray. There are still weird elements: a 15-year-old boy, who sometimes speaks to himself in a second personality named "the boy called Crow," goes on the run; an elderly man named Nakata speaks of himself in the third person and speaks to cats. There's an unexplained consciousness-losing of a bunch of students, Johnnie Walker and Colonel Sanders, leeches falling from the sky, and a trans-man librarian. But, sustained over an entire novel where character development, not just oddity, must play a role, Murakami's writing seemed to lose something.

Kafka, the protagonist, is likeable enough, though there's far too much about his penis (always referred to as c*ck in the book, a term which I only associate with porn and found really jarring--don't know whether I can attribute that to Murakami or the English translator). In fact, the sex in the book, as a whole, is weird in an off-putting way. Oshima, the librarian, is also likeable, though like every character in the book, he is far too giving and caring without explanation. Kafka and Oshima particularly spend far too much time philosophizing and talking about how life is a metaphor.

Nakata is someone you want to root for, but his speech style becomes repetitive and aggravating, as does the "geez whiz, I just better follow you!" attitude of his sidekick, Hoshino.

I liked the novel better in the beginning as we slowly learn about the students on the hill and Nakata gets sucked into the events that happen. But by the end, so much muddying had happened that I lost a sense of connection to the book as a whole. I'm still not sure how it all fits together, but not in an enjoyable way, like with Blind Willow.

Kafka on the Shore was a disappointment, but I'd certainly like to try Murakami's fiction again, especially since I've been reading a lot about him recently with the publication of his most recent book, 1Q84.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"Cutting for Stone" by Abraham Verghese

Cutting for Stone is a unique book that I think I would have enjoyed even more if it wasn't nearly so long. Even so, it has a lot that makes it a worthwhile and engaging. The novel takes place largely in Ethiopia, following the expats working at Missing Hospital. There the reader meets Sister Mary Praise, an Indian nun who works as a surgery assistant to Thomas Stone, a skilled British surgeon. When Sister Mary dies in (an unknown to everyone else) childbirth, the Indian gynecologist Hema and the Indian physician Ghosh become her twins' parents. The story then is told primarily from the point of view of the twin Marion a he grows up in Missing and becomes a surgeon himself.

Ethiopia is a fascinating setting for the book, as it challenges and reinforces notions of African poverty.  Missing lacks many of the medical advancements available in the United States, but it also has skilled and dedicated doctors who do much to improve the lives of those around them. It's also interesting to see the growth of the twins, Marion and Shiva, native Ethiopians of Indian and British parents. They are a part of and separate from their country of birth, especially because their position as the children of Hema and Ghosh allows them privileges others don't receive. Cutting for Stone is also situated at an interesting period historically, as the rule of Emperor Haile Selassie is challenged.

It's clear from the novel that Verghese is himself a doctor. His passion for his profession is evident in his exact detail of surgeries (not for the squeamish!) and also his emphasis on compassion in medicine. Verghese's own upbringing mirrors Marion's in many ways, and that authenticity of detail in the locations and in the challenges of being a foreign a medical student was a great strength of the novel.

Unfortunately, I didn't feel that same believability in the characters. I wanted to like the characters more than I was able to, particularly because I felt Verghese strives too hard to make them "literary." Marion's life-long obsession with an early love is tiresome and culminates in a highly problematic rape scene that's not depicted as rape. Shiva's standoffish "not like others" personality feels forced. In the real world he might be labeled as autistic, but in the novel, he comes across as mysteriously (and unrealistically) otherworldly.

Part of the problem may be the length of the novel. The paperback comes in at nearly 700 pages, but because I read it on a Kindle, I really had no idea that it was a long book until I finished. Instead, the story simply felt interminable, and while I read, I tended to attribute my inability to make much headway to failures in the story itself, rather than the length.

Cutting for Stone came to me highly recommended, and it's undoubtedly an interesting novel, though I wasn't as impressed as I had hoped to be.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"Pym" by Mat Johnson

Summary: Chris Jaynes is a professor who, rather than accepting his expected role as teacher of African-American literature, had been looking to make Whiteness visible through an analysis of literature by white authors, most particularly Edgar Allen Poe's only novel, the critically-panned The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket.  Days after being denied tenure and losing his job, a depressed Jaynes has an unpublished autobiographical narrative brought to his attention, written by a presumably fictional character from Poe's work.  Deciding that Poe's story must actually be true, Jaynes sets out to find the mysterious all-white Antarctic figure from the book in hopes of discovering Tsalal, an all-black island also from the novel.

Musings: It's hard to sum up Pym in a few words because this odd, satirical, absurdist, yet meaningful book is full of so much.  Johnson mirrors Poe's structure (which Jaynes roundly critcizes) in Pym with perfect effect.

There's a lot of commentary on individuals' interpretations of Whiteness and Blackness without a singular message.  Jaynes refuses to do what the "whites" expect of him as an African-American man (teach African-American literature; serve on the diversity committee), but his refusal achieves nothing either. His focus on race also belies his own discomfort as a light-skinned person who is sometimes mistaken for white.  Later in the novel Johnson weaves in how easy it is to "other-ize" another being (which goes both ways) as the crew of Jaynes' ship to Antartica is enslaved.

Admist all this is weirdness and randomness, like giant albino snow creatures and Jaynes' friend Garth's obsession with a cheesy landscap painter (a la Thomas Kincaid).  And there's a lot issues beyond race addressed, such as the crew's bickering over movie rights when they discover unknown Antarctic creatures.

I enjoyed the book, though I left it without a clear sense of analysis.  That doesn't mean it wasn't a fun, weird, trip, though.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"The Broken Kingdoms" by N.K. Jemisin

Summary: Set in the same world as The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, The Broken Kingdoms takes place ten years after the end of the first novel.  The world is no longer ruled by Bright Itempas alone, and many godlings now live and exist among mortals.  One of those mortals is Oree Shoth, a blind artist with an ability to see magic.  When godlings begin to be murdered, Oree is immediately involved: because of her magic, because of her godling ex-lover Madding, and because of "Shiny," a strange being she finds behind her home.

Musings: I thoroughly enjoyed the dense world building of Thousand Kingdoms and the complex relationships between mortals and gods it depicted.  And I liked Broken Kingdoms even more than the first book, perhaps because of its reduced focus on politics and increased focus on relationships and magic.

The protagonist, Oree, is in many ways similar to the protagonist Yeine from the first book.  Although their situations and statuses are very different, they have similar voices and personalities.  This didn't particularly bother me, though sometimes reading gave me vague deja vu.  However, though Broken Kingdom also focuses on the relationships between gods and mortals like the first book, I found the relationships in this book more compelling.  Oree's loving relationship with Madding and her difficult relationship with Shiny are central to the novel and develop and grow over time.

The novel does have a bit of the "magical blind woman" trope, but I did find Oree's powers and use of magic interesting, especially as contrasted with the other characters'.  Jemisin is also careful to stress the force and limitations of the gods' powers, who have a somewhat straddled existence.  They live among mortals, can love mortals, and can be hurt and even killed.  Yet they are also feared, worshiped, and strong.

It's nice to see the characters from Thousand Kingdoms back again, even though they are all in significantly diminished roles (Yeine, T'vril, Nahadoth, and Sieh all make important appearances). Interesting yet under-explored characters from the first book (namely Bright Itempas) are more important.

In content, feel, theme, and tone, Broken Kingdoms is much like Thousand Kingdoms.  For those who enjoyed the first book (like myself!), this is definitely a good thing, even if the book doesn't feel completely and distinctly different.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"In Other Rooms, Other Wonders" by Daniyal Mueenuddin

Summary: A collection of short stories that take place primarily in Pakistan and are loosely connected through the wealthy Pakistani landowner K.K. Harouni.

Musings: In Other Rooms, Other Wonders has been favorably compared to the work of Jhumpa Lahiri, an Indian-American short story writer.  Although I could see some similarities in their exploration of relationships and the types of conflicts they present (though issues of "old world" vs. "new" are more subtly interwoven here than in Lahiri's work, where they often take center stage), Mueenuddin's work actually reminded me more of Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman by Haruki Murakami.  It's hard to pinpoint exactly why, since Murakami writes about the fantastical, but something in the writers' atypical narrative arcs (particularly in Mueenuddin's early stories) rang similar to me.  Perhaps it's because neither is afraid of writing a story without a climax or a clear resolution--instead both trust the reader to think without a neat ending.

Although each of Mueenuddin's stories has a different narrator, a similar theme runs throughout all eight presented in In Other Rooms: the crushing nature of hope.  Time and again, characters dare dream above their current situation, whether it's a young woman looking for love, an American girl desiring to be accepted by a Pakistani family, or a poor servant hoping to serve a wealthy family.  Each of these characters allows for the possibility of reaching his or her goal, and most even taste some part of success--which makes the inevitable downfall all the more heart-breaking.  It's a depressing motif, though it doesn't make the stories difficult to read.

In Other Rooms is a short book, at a little over 200 pages, but its wealth comes from its intricately drawn characters who are developed in the reader's mind through quiet detail.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge and the Back to the Classics Challenge (a Pulitzer Prize (Fiction) Winner or Runner Up category).

"Luka and the Fire of Life" by Salman Rushdie

Summary: Luka has grown up hearing the elaborate stories about Magic World from his father, Rashid Khalifa.  When Luka curses Aag, a cruel circus owner, Rashid falls into a deep sleep from which he cannot be awakened.  Luka learns he must travel into Magic World and steal the Fire of Life in order to save his father.  Along the way, he meets the beings of his father's stories and uses his own knowledge of Rashid to save his father.

Musings: Luka and the Fire of Life is a somewhat deceptive book, for though it has, on the outside, the trappings of a children's tale, it's a book that recognizes and rewards its adult audience.  The novel has the style of traditional myth storytelling with a modern day setting, with an enjoyably anachronistic result.

The intrepid protagonist, Luka, travels into Magic World--his father's storytelling world--in order to find the Fire of Life.  This world is populated by an unusual mix of historical mythology (the gods and monsters of practically all cultures, from Native Americans, to ancient Greeks, to Asian folklore), invented creatures (like the Insultana of Ott, an otter queen whose society spends much of its time vigorously insulting each other), and modern pop culture (Luka advances through Magic World like he's playing a Nintendo game; heck, even Doctor Who gets mentioned!).

The tone throughout is light, often filled with wordplay and fun "wink-nudge" cleverness.  Even random moments are enjoyable, such as when Nobodaddy (the phantom being who is slowly replacing Luka's father) asks, "Do rats tell tales? Do porpoises have narrative purposes? Do elephants ele-phantasize?" (34).  Or take this exchange:

"Are you familiar," he said finally, "with the Bang?"

"The Big Bang?" Luka asked. "Or some other Bang I don't know about?"

"There was only one Bang," said Nobodaddy, "so the adjective Big is redundant and meaningless. The Bang would only be Big if there was at least one other Little or Medium-Sized or even Bigger Bang to compare it with, and to differentiate it from." (38) 

Luke and the Fire of Life is a somewhat sequel to Rushdie's Haroun and the Sea of Stories, which follows Luka's older brother.  Although Luka can certainly be read as a solo text, I did wish I'd read Haroun first as I think it would have been enjoyable to re-encounter recurring places and characters.

Knowing almost nothing about Rushdie going in, I expected a much more austere work than I found.  Instead, Luka and the Fire of Life rang more like a kids' book with adult appeal (perhaps like a Pixar movie), which certainly isn't an insult.  I did find my mind occasionally straying, as the light tone, for me, also meant the book wasn't completely engrossing.  Reading it aloud or hearing it in an audiobook version might have helped.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"Wench" by Dolen Perkins-Valdez

Summary: Tawawa House is an Ohio summer resort where white slave owners can take their slave mistresses for part of the summer.  At Tawawa House, four women form a close friendship.  Lizzie loves her master Drayle and hopes he will some day free their two children together.  Mawu hates her owner Tip and desperately wants to escape, which is all the more tantalizing in free-state Ohio.  Rounding out the group are Sweet and Reenie.  Over the course of several summers, each woman must make a choice about the price of remaining a slave and the price of attempting freedom.

Musings: One of the challenges of writing about American slavery is that so many books have already been written on it.  Perkinz-Valdez takes on one particular appalling aspect of slavery--the sexual abuse of female slaves by their white owners--through a unique setting.  Away from their owners' wives, their children, and the plantation, Lizzie, Mawu, Sweet, and Reenie are exposed to new possibilities, both exciting and dangerous.

Lizzie is the protagonist of the novel, and her story is especially uncertain.  Although she feels the pain and restrictions of slavery, most acutely for her children with Drayle, she is also treated "well" by most standards.  In fact, she deeply cares for and loves Drayle, and the small freedoms she experiences at Tawawa, where she shares a cottage with Drayle much like a wife would, bring her closer to him.  But as Lizzie also grows closer with women like Mawu, her feelings begin to change.  Lizzie's an especially interesting character because of that complexity she faces.

Probably the most difficult aspect of the book for me was the sexual abuse.  I've mentioned several other times that I find depicting sexual violence against women problematic.  I know Perkins-Valdez describes scenes and events that are an incontrovertible part of slavery, and I wouldn't suggest those parts should be hidden.  Nonetheless, I find graphic descriptions of sexual assault so sickening (which it clearly is intended to be) that it was difficult to want to continue to read the book.  Sometimes I felt the desired effect could be created with less, but that's probably more of a personal feeling.

Wench is told straightforwardly, and at times I craved a richer and more nuanced style.  I felt as though events and feelings were being told to me, rather than allowing me to experience and come to know them through the characters.  Some events happened too abruptly, and others were delayed with unnecessary suspense.

Nonetheless, Wench uses a variety of characters to explore the lives of slave women and effectively shows the ways in which sexual abuse played a role in restricting the women's lives.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"Complications" by Atul Gawande

Summary: A collection of essays on the tricky and uncertain science of surgery and medicine.

Musings: I found Complications on a list of engaging nonfiction, and Gawande's work did not fail me in that regard.  In fact, I found his book more engrossing than much of the fiction I read. I think this is because medicine is an area that pervades our lives despite the fact that many of us know so little about it. Gawande's book is then both reassuring and frightening, for it details the way in which there is so much doctors and scientists don't know as well.

The first section of the book is on surgeons specifically, where Gawande discusses the training of doctors and the "complications of medicine"--how things go wrong and how difficult it is to prevent and predict those occurrences. The second and third sections address disease, with individual chapters on things such as gastric bypass surgery, SIDS, pain, and nausea.

The medical terminology is all explained in layman's terms but without making the reader feel like an idiot.  And although the book is not for the overly squeamish, disease and surgery are described straightforwardly, not grotesquely.

Probably what brings the book most to life, however, is Gawande's personal presence.  A surgeon himself, Gawande's stories of his experiences with patients fill every chapter, and he uses his own challenges as a spring board to examine larger issues at play.  In the afterward Gawande credits writer Malcolm Gladwell as a supportive friend, and I could see something of Gladwell's style in the book (whether that's because of the friendship or because both write for The New Yorker, I don't know). Like Gladwell, Gawande's essays all follow a similar structure: begin with a narrative, introduce the personal, analyze with scientific evidence, and return to narrative.  Nonetheless, the repetitive structure doesn't lessen the reader's fascination with the myriad topics Gawande explores.

I highly recommend Complications to anyone looking for fast-paced nonfiction or insight into modern medicine.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"A Hundred Thousand Kingdoms" by N.K. Jemisin

Summary: There were once three gods.  But the god Itempas killed the god Enefa and imprisoned the third god, Nahadoth.  Now Nahadoth and his children are enslaved weapons of the Arameri, the ruling people of the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms.

Yeine has been raised with her father's family in Darr ever since her mother--sole heir to the Arameri throne--was disowned after giving up her heirship to be with Yeine's father.  Both of Yeine's parents are now dead, and Dekarta, Yeine's grandfather and current ruler, has recalled Yeine to Sky in order to name her potential heir, along with two of her cousins.  In Sky Yeine learns what it means to be Arameri for the first time while becoming uncomfortably close with the enslaved gods, particularly the seductive god of darkness, Nahadoth.

The gods and the Arameri clearly all have plans in place--and Yeine must decide her role in the future of the world.

Musings: The summary above is much longer than the summaries I typically write, but that's because there's so much going on in The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms that it's difficult to even know where to start.  The complex nature of the novel is one of its greatest strengths and occasionally a hindrance.  The depth of the mythology and characters of Hundred Thousand Kingdoms makes it such an engaging read, but there's so much of interest that inevitably some areas are unexplored.

Jemisin's greatest achievement is her ability to create an entire back story--to the gods, the Arameri, and Yeine--that comes together in a compelling narrative. There's so much going on that at times I did feel a bit lost, but everything comes together in the end.  I especially liked the richness of the gods' histories and the way in which they seem mortal and not-mortal, understandable and unfathomable.  Most people today think of God (or gods) as an unreachable, perfect being, but these gods are more like those of Ancient Greece--all the more powerful and deadly because of their semblance to humans. Like American Gods, Hundred Thousand Kingdoms addresses what happens when a god is no longer at the pinnacle of power, something I found especially fascinating.

Yeine is the perfect protagonist, a strong woman from the matriarchal Darr who is thrust into a world she doesn't understand.  She finds herself pulled in many directions, and only slowly does she (and the reader) come to make sense of the world around her.  Her relationship with Nahadoth is unusual and intense, but I appreciated that it isn't her only relationship in the book--her friendship with the godling child Sieh and the Arameri servant T'vril are also significant. 

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms is definitely high fantasy, and some people might be put off by the complicated world building, as well as the violence and sex.  However, for me, the novel came together perfectly, and I finished it far more quickly than any other book I've read recently.  Yeine's strong voice is completely compelling, and I think most any reader would find the book hard to put down once begun.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"Who Fears Death" by Nnedi Okorafor

Summary: Onyesonwu is Ewu, a child born of the rape of an Okeke woman by a Nuru man.  The Okeke people have been enslaved and under the power of the Nuru people, and now the Nuru people are determined to follow the Great Book and wipe out the Okeke completely.  But Onyesonwu is not only Ewu; she also has the powers of a sorcerer, and with the help of her companion, lover, and fellow Ewu Mwita, she may be the one to rewrite the Great Book forever.

Musings: Although Who Fears Death appeared on a number of best of 2010 lists, I was nervous to read this book for awhile because of the graphic nature of the rape and violence in the book. Difficult as it is, that material is there, though it's integral to the plot of the story.  Onyesonwu is a child of rape, and violence will be a part of her life, though she works hard to go beyond the expectations that Ewu children will be nothing but violent.  Onyesonwu is a strong-willed and stubborn narrator who fiercely believes in equality of the sexes.  Her companion Mwita is similarly determined, and I liked the way in which Onyesonwu and Mwita butt heads yet unconditionally support one another.

There's an element of magical realism in the sorcery that appears through the book.  Onyesonwu's powers are revealed piece by piece, though occasionally I felt overwhelmed by the variety of magic and abilities introduced.  The novel is also science-fiction in some ways, as the setting is a post-Apocalyptic (presumably future) Africa.  However, the setting never felt quite right to me; the characters have access to computers, though they never use them, so I really had no idea how much technology played in their lives.

In the end, I'm somewhat ambivalent about the book.  It's well-written with complex world building and compelling protagonists.  At the same time, the story always felt "off" in some way to me, and I was often reluctant to pick up the book each day, even though I read rapidly and with interest when I did.  However, I've been complaining about the dearth of POC fantasy and science fiction, so I'm thrilled to see Who Fears Death, which has the added benefit of being very much a feminist novel, receive so much attention and praise.

- Read as part of Presenting Lenore's Dystopian February.
***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman" by Haruki Murakami

Summary: A collection of unusual short stories.

Musings: In describing my feelings about Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman, it's difficult to know where to start.  I think that's because the stories themselves are so unquantifiable that to try to talk about them seems almost impossible.  These are stories that, when finished, the first reaction is: "Uh....?" Because no matter how carefully you read, you immediately feel like there's something there that you just didn't get.  A few of the stories, especially near the end, have some sense of resolution and meaning, but most have no obvious plot arc or theme.  For example, here's my summary of "A Perfect Day for Kangaroos," one of Murakami's typical stories (chosen because it's short and relatively easy to summarize):

A couple learns that a new baby kangaroo has been born at the zoo.  They plan on going to see the baby, but things come up, the weather is bad, and it's about a month before they get around to going to see it.  When they do go, the girlfriend is bummed because the baby isn't so much a baby anymore--it's hopping around on its own.  The boyfriend buys chocolate ice cream, and the girlfriend asks him a bunch of questions about kangaroos: how to they hop? why do the babies live in pouches?  They buy Cokes and hot dogs.  When they come back to the exhibit, the baby kangaroo it sitting in its mother's pouch, which the girlfriend is happy to see.  They leave and the boyfriend asks if the girlfriend wants to go out for a beer.

Most are even stranger and less linear, though the majority take place within the "real" world.  But, even though none of the stories "made sense" in a typical way, I never felt like I was being taken on a pointless journey, and I didn't feel deceived or duped by Murakami.  In fact, every story was immensely interesting and entertaining, like a fabulous new ghost story, only there's no real ending, and the reader is left with just a hint of meaning.  A character in an early story captures my feelings exactly: "I felt like I knew what he was getting at. At the same time, I felt that I had no idea what he meant" (40).

The stories are very short (there's 24 in the approximately 300-page collection), so the pace moves quickly.  I suppose the length also means that the reader is never so invested in a character or storyline that he or she feels let down without a typical climax or resolution.

There are some general recurring themes, though I can't pinpoint anything exactly: loneliness, relationships, old albums and jazz. My favorite stories are probably the ones that are weirdest, namely "Dabchick" and "A Shinagawa Monkey."

Like a good mystery, I think Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman would be a lot of fun to talk over with friends or a book group, and it would definitely be worth a reread.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey" by Walter Mosley

Summary: 91-year-old Ptolemy Grey has a difficult time remembering things, and his thoughts often flutter from one point to another, making it hard for him to piece together any one memory.  When Reggie, his great-grandnephew who checked in on him, dies in a drive-by shooting, Robyn, a young woman living with a member of Ptolemy's family, begins caring for him.  Robyn truly cares about Ptolemy, cleaning up his squalid apartment and showing him love and care.  Ptolemy begins to piece together parts of his life and decides there are things he needs to finish before he dies.

Musings: In some ways The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey is kind of like deciding to buy a giant piece of cake from the grocery store to eat as an afternoon snack instead of just going home and eating the celery you know is already in the fridge.  The celery is better for you, and the cake may ring too sickly sweet once you finish, but gosh do you feel great chomping that cake down.  Ptolemy Grey is filled with "perfect" characters who are exactly as they appear and don't have the nasty habit of disappointing.  You know they won't withstand any kind of characterization scrutiny, but it's still enjoyable to read about good people doing good things and getting proper rewards.  So I guess all of this is a roundabout way of saying I quite enjoyed Ptolemy Grey (even more so than that cake).

Our perfect characters are Ptolemy, a sweet elderly man determined to give to everyone, and Robyn, a beautiful and saintly young woman who devotes her existence to caring, loving, and supporting the nonagenarian.  Robyn instantly likes Ptolemy, listening to him and clearing out his filthy apartment (in what would have been the most uplifting episode of Hoarders ever had it been real).  She never gets bored, angry, or mad with him, and in fact the two spend most of the book mooning over how they would get married if he were forty years younger and she twenty years older.

But, really, I'm sounding critical when I was fully engrossed in the novel.  Ptolemy is an endearing character, and the reader gets a look into various aspects of his life, primarily his relationship as a boy with an elderly man named Coydog McCann.  There's joy in seeing his life improve (and keep improving!) through the love of Robyn.

Most of the book follows Ptolemy's train of thought in the early stages of dementia, so it's a bit surprising when, two-thirds of the way through the book, Ptolemy feels certain he needs to take an experimental drug that will return his memories but shorten his life.  He suddenly has to do certain things before he dies, and I was a little surprised at the sudden assurance.

By the end of the novel everything is neatly and happily wrapped up; there are no great mysteries revealed nor any sudden failings by our angelic characters.  However, I also felt happy while reading (I found it hard to put down) and after I finished. Ptolemy Grey is a good choice for someone who wants a heart-warming book with a more unique style and a minimum of corniness.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

"Drinking Coffee Elsewhere" by ZZ Packer

Summary: A collection of short stories.

Musings: Packer's eight short stories all focus on disparate individuals, but each one packs an emotional punch.  The majority of the protagonists are young black people, unsure of their place in the world and cautiously trying to reject the forces of their childhood (often the church, family).

Throughout the first few stories I felt a sense of near-hopelessness.  For me, the stories were primarily about the lack of heroism in everyday lives--those big, climactic, change-your-life and stick-up-for-your-belief moments that are the hallmark of feel-good movies are shown to be fairy tales.  There's a lot of sadness as the protagonists realize their limitations, both self-imposed and otherwise. The short story "Our Lady of Peace" stood out to me, perhaps because it's about a young teacher trying to make it at a rowdy public school, and I could empathize.

I also quite liked "Drinking Coffee Elsewhere," about a Dina, a Yale freshman who loses a friendship over her inability to stop "pretending."  Her therapist says, "Constantly saying what one doesn't mean accustoms the mouth to meaningless phrases... Maybe you'll understand that when you finally need to express something truly significant your mouth will revert to the insignificant nonsense it knows so well" (128).  The therapist wonders whether her "pretending" is a survival mechanism: "Black living in a white world" (128).  But with Dina, as with so many of the characters, there's no one clear clause of her dissatisfaction with the world, though racism does run through each piece.  I liked this type of characterizations because it felt real; the characters are multi-dimensional with multi-dimensional problems that have no real fixes.

When I thought all the stories were going to bleak, there seemed to be an upturn.  Again, no magical changes, but small, unexpected moments, like help coming from an unusual place or finding an amount of courage within yourself.

Packer's stories are brisk, and though individual-focused, each story is populated with interesting characters and quickly-moving situations.  Unlike some short story collections, I couldn't just move from one story to the next.  I found I needed a break to digest what I had read; it meant it took me longer than normal to read the book, but I think the piece was more meaningful as a whole that way.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

Persons of Color Reading Challenge 2011

I've signed up again for the POC Reading Challenge.  I read 21 books for the challenge last year, so this year I'm going to sign up for level 5 (16-25 books).

As I noted in my wrap-up post for the 2010 challenge, I was disappointed that a large number of the books I read had protagonists of color but were written by white authors.  For this year, I'm only going to count books written by authors of color, though perhaps I'll include other books in a separate list.  I'm hoping this will help me to discover new authors!

Books read:
1. Drinking Coffee Elsewhere by ZZ Packer
2. The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey by Walter Mosley
3. Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman by Haruki Murakami
4. Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor
5. The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by N.K. Jemisin
6. Complications by Atul Gawande
7. Wench by Dolen Perkins-Valdez
8. Luka and the Fire of Life by Salman Rushdie
9. In Other Rooms, Other Wonders by Daniyal Mueenuddin
10. The Broken Kingdoms by N.K. Jemisin
11. Pym by Mat Johnson
12. Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese 
13. Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami 
14. River of Smoke by Amitav Ghosh 
15. The Kingdom of Gods by N.K. Jemisin 
16. Is Everybody Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) by Mindy Kaling 
17. Dreams From My Father by Barack Obama

Books by white authors with protagonists of color: (not counted toward challenge)
- Gardens of Water by Alan Drew
- Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacigalupi
- The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down by Anne Fadiman
- Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman

"Pigeon English" by Stephen Kelman

Summary: Harri, an eleven-year-old Ghanaian boy who recently immigrated to England, narrates this novel from the small community in which he lives with his mom and sister (his father and baby sister are still back in Ghana).  The thread that holds the narrative together as Harri describes his community, friends and classmates, and experiences, is the recent murder of a local boy.  Harri is determined to investigate the murder, CSI-style, but doing so exposes him to some of the harsh realities of where he lives.

Musings: Although Pigeon English took me a bit to get in to, I'm glad I remained with the novel because I was introduced to a fresh and heartbreaking voice in the narrator of Harri.  Through Harri's eyes, his community is a mixture of the fabulous and the dangerous.  He can talk about the "hutious" (apparently Ghanaian slang for dangerous) gangs as easily as he can talk about the joy of cool sneakers or his love for his baby sister.  And perhaps what is most difficult for the reader is the way in which Harri accepts all of these facets of his life with a matter-of-fact naivete.

Harri jumps from topic to topic without a transitioning thought, and although it can be distracting at times, the style also effectively captures a young man's train of thought.  You can see the many pressures he is under from the people around him--he wants to be good and do the right thing, but he also is caught up in the pressures from others.  Nonetheless, he is someone who sees the world with idealistic clarity, and as the reader, you end up loving him and fearing for his survival.

I especially enjoyed the way in which Kelman captures Harri's relationship with his sister Lydia; it's a relationship built on both bickering and love.  Pigeon English also shows the complicated relationships of adolescent boys trying to be cool and tough and often resorting to dangerous means to prove it.

The only sections of the book I didn't like were the short italicized narrations by a pigeon Harri befriends.  The pigeon "speaks" enigmatically, and though it seems like the sections are supposed to be especially deep, I just didn't understand them.  Harri's voice is perfect to capture the mood and scene, and the pigeon's interjections are only a distraction.

Otherwise, Pigeon English is an engrossing novel with perfect characterization, and it demonstrates how difficult it is to maintain hope in destructive environments.

***This book qualifies for the POC Reading Challenge.

Pigeon English will be published in July 2011.

E-galley received by the publisher through Net Galley for my review.