Provence 1970

by Luke Barr

I really wanted to like this book, but it's a bit of a mess. 

First of all, in writing this book, Barr is trying to capitalize on the moment. Food writing is at its most popular and most prolific, as a genre for professional writers to amateur bloggers. What better time to publish this book? While it's a loving homage to his great aunt M.F.K. Fisher, the language and the descriptions are a little too precious. 

I do not worship at the alter of French cooking or French food, or Julia Child, for that matter. (Although I do respect the way that woman cooked an egg.) I am now more interested in M.F.K. Fisher and her philosophy of "For my own meals I like simplicity above all." So a book about the American foodie scene turning away from its fancy French infatuation and pretension appeals to me. But what stands out to me about this book is how poorly executed it is. 

Barr's book is chock-full of nostalgia. Nostalgia for his childhood with his aunt, for his own time in Provence at the Child's Provence La Pitchoune home, to reiterating his aunt's nostalgia for the Provence-that-was, pre-1970. The repetition is terrible. Barr latches on to a theme and beats it to death.

I got caught up on is Barr's lack of story telling. He's a teller rather than a show-er. For pages and pages, every vignette seems to end with something to the tune of, But attitudes were changing, or, But things were about to change, or, Nothing was going to be the same It's painfully repetitive.  We get it. Just show me the change, tell me the story, not your foreshadowings. It's filler it's an attempt to create tension, or suspense, or plot where there is none. But maybe the fault is in my reading, approaching this book too much like a memoir rather than the biography it is. It picks up speed about halfway through the book, when Barr spends more of his time talking about Julia Child's tensions with Simone Beck and her dislike of French snobbery in cooking. Ultimately, the huge change Barr constantly foreshadows is that M.F.K. Fisher decided she was content to not go back to France and live out her days in California with her family and simple food. *Shockwave*

I know how important these people and France were in changing the attitudes of American cooking and American food. I love the movie Julie and Julia. But I'm more interested in the Alice Waters, fresh, seasonal food philosophy than French influence. I have no desire to read Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Currently I'm lusting over Nigel Slater's Notes from the Larder. Provence 1970 is not a bad book. But it's not good, either. The writing is cozy and loving and comfortable. It's a nice read, but nothing to write home about.

The Magician King

by Lev Grossman

It is so satisfying to get wrapped up in a fantasy series again. (Although, now I'm sad that I have to wait until August for the third book!) I enjoyed this book immensely, more so than The Magicians. I think that's due in part to having established the existence of magic and Fillory, and the Brakebills education being out of the way.

Initially, I was not thrilled with the reappearance of Julia (yes, technically she reappeared at the end of The Magicians). I didn't have enough time to recover from Alice's death, and I felt like she just didn't belong in Quentin, Eliot, and Janet's story. She's too sulky and mysterious for too long; it's frustrating. However, I love that we got the story of her hedge witch education. She's heartbreaking, and halfway through the story I wanted nothing more than for her to get all the good things in her life she deserved. Her story was, at times, much more interesting than what Quentin was going through. I hope she appears in the third book, although, if this was the end to her story, I can be happy with that; she did get her happy ending.

I also enjoyed that we got to catch up with Josh. And good for him! He's another character I really root for (Eliot and Janet, at this point, I couldn't care less about). But I didn't want him to stay in Fillory. He really made his mark in Venice, and I wanted him to go back. And, while I'm on the subject, what a dirty trick of Eliot's! Quentin doesn't get angry at him, and it's not explicitly addressed, but Eliot totally screwed him over. When he handed Quentin the seven keys to turn in the locks, he knew that meant the quest was over and Ember would kick him out. He let Quentin take the fall. Granted, I don't think Eliot would have the strength to cope with being kicked out of Fillory, and now Quentin does, but still, it was a dirty trick.

I will say, this book is a bit preachier than The Magicians. Grossman is straying more into Narnia territory. He's toeing a fine line between religious (and I mean religion in all is permutations, not just Christianity like C.S. Lewis) believer and atheistic satirist. Sometimes I can't decide where he falls. But the book has a nice balance of believers and skeptics. I think Grossman is doing the best to not alienate any potential audience, and so he tries to stay pretty even-keeled. The FTB/Murs magicians research and adventures in religion and paganism was a nice (although ultimately tragic) detail.

I can't wait to see what happens to Quentin now. If he doesn't run into Penny again, that would be fine with me. Magic and the magical world(s) has gotten more complicated, and I'm looking forward to what Grossman does next. What if they don't get to keep magic forever? Will Quentin be exiled to Earth? And what's he going to do without all his friends? August seems like a very long way away. If you haven't begun this series, I highly recommend it. For all the issues I had with The Magicians, it was well worth it to get to The Magician King.

The Magicians

by Lev Grossman

Well, I have another childhood disappointment to add to my list: I'm too old to get my acceptance letter to Hogwarts, to find Narnia in a wardrobe, and to take my Brakebills entrance exam. (Or maybe I took it an failed an had my memory altered. . .But that would be worse.)

Initially I wanted all the characters to stop talking about Fillory and just say Narnia. Fillory is so obviously molded after Narnia. It annoys me when novels reference other books that don't exist. But I'm sure Grossman couldn't get the ok to write about Narnia; that wouldn't surprise me. And as I continued to read, I realized it would have been too difficult to integrate Narnia into what he was doing. And why am I so against a new magical land? That's not fair. I didn't feel that way when reading about Narnia or Hogwarts for the first time.

What I do take issue with, though, is the magic. It's too vague. I feel like I could cast Hogwarts spells, but Brakebills magic is more complicated, but not clearly explained. The spells are in ancient languages and require fancy finger play, none of which I could hope to recreate. (For clarification: I'm not actually trying to be a magician, but I would like to have a clear picture in my mind of what they're learning at Brakebills academy.) I felt a little too shut out from this world to inhabit it along with Quentin and his cohort.

And along those lines, I feel like I understand how Quiddich is played, and if I had to, I could sub-in for a beater, but I have no idea how Welters is played. There are two huge tournaments of Welters in the book, but no one seems to actually care about it: the students, the faculty, Dean Fogg, or Grossman.

I think this obscure quality of the book is due, in part, to how fast the book moves. It spans Quentin's four years at Brakebills plus a year or so beyond. There's a lot that Grossman doesn't bother to describe; he rushes Quentin's education a little too much, I think. Quentin's semester at Brakebills South, however, is one of my favorite parts of the book. And, of course, the class's way of getting there (I really don't want to give too much away). Grossman speeds through Brakebills, though, because he wants to get Quentin and his friends out of the safety of the school and out into the real world. . .or worlds.

This book has its flaws: the speed, the occasional pretentious language and metaphors (why say a difficult passage of Bartok rather than a difficult passage of music?), the indeterminate magic. But there is still a lot to like about this novel. I found myself getting angry with Quentin and Elliot and Janet a lot -- Seriously? You're magicians. Stop throwing your lives away! Grossman's novel, in comparison to The Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter is a better mix of real-world teenage angst and real-world magic. Grossman's magic is more dangerous, more difficult, and has clearer serious consequences. This book builds as it goes on, and gets better as Quentin progresses through Brakebills and after graduation. Grossman took on a lot in this first book, and I'm looking forward to see what he does next. My enjoyment of The Magicians far outweighed any of my frustrations. I had to go out and buy the second book as soon as I finished The Magicians. In the end, I'm more than happy to immerse myself in the world of Fillory.

Holiday Staff Pick!

Blue Plate Special

by Kate Christensen

Kate Christensen is my soul sister. Reading Blue Plate Special is like commiserating with a literary soul mate over several glasses of good wine. She loves food, I love food. She loves New England, I love New England. She loves reading and writing, I love reading and writing. She's gluten intolerant, I'm gluten intolerant. She's a writer, I want to be a writer. Christensen has shot to the top of my list of Writers Who, If I Ever Met, I Would Freak Out and Embarrass Myself (other writers include Cheryl Strayed and Colum McCann).

Christensen's writing is as warm and inviting as the smell of fresh-baked bread. I was hooked from the introduction: "To taste fully is to live fully. And to live fully is to be awake and responsive to the complexities and truths--good and terrible, overwhelming and miniscule. To eat passionately is to allow the world in." I've never lived out West. I've never been a nanny in France. And I don't know what a Waldorf School is. But I really connected with this book. Her experiences are vastly different from mine, but at the core, she is open and relatable.

Christensen's memoir is about figuring it out. And as someone who is deeply intrenched in trying to figure it out, I really appreciate Christensen's vignettes of family, growing up, love, loss, and food. I enjoy reading about someone else's struggle, experiencing their process of understanding themselves and where they fit in the world. Christensen is generous with her writing and doesn't shy away from what was difficult or uncomfortable in her life. Sometimes she is the villain of her story, sometimes the hero, sometimes a supporting character.

The pacing of this book is excellent. It's composed of relatively short vignettes of her life. She doesn't get overly sentimental, or wallow in self-pity; she is measured yet honest. She allows readers to share in her triumphs and missteps, and a lot of food stories and recipes a long the way. I haven't read any of Christensen's novels, but now plan to. And if you haven't read Blue Plate Special, you definitely should. When the weather turns cold and dark, what's better than curling up with a great food writing/memoir?

500 Gluten Free Dishes

by Carol Beckerman

I don't know why it hadn't occurred to me sooner to review a cookbook. I have been loving this cookbook and cooking from it for a few months now. Now, yes, I am gluten-free, so my cookbooks are of the gluten-free variety. But don't let that turn you off if you aren't on a gluten-free diet! And if you are gluten-free, I highly recommend this one from the 500 series.

First of all, the book itself is small, which is perfect for those like me who have a painfully small kitchen and need to maximize space. It easily lays flat (non of that cookbook stand nonsense) and won't take up a lot of room on your counter (or windowsill, if you're like me). Best of all, the recipes are easy to follow. Yes, they require things like white rice flour, tapioca flour, xanthan gum, etc. But such is the life of a gluten-free cook/baker. You learn to live with it. And though I've only been cooking from this book for a few months, I already have a few go-to recipes.

The breakfast recipes in this cookbook are great. I don't like starting my day wired for sugar: cereal, french toast, waffles, etc. Every once-in-a-while I'll go for sweets in the morning, but, typically, I prefer savory dishes in the morning. And this cookbook doesn't disappoint: savory cheese & onion hotcakes, cheese & ham mini muffins (which I love and have made over and over), and the ham & cheese strata (for special occasions).

There are also great lunch options for those of us who can't just go out and grab a sandwich at work. Two of my favorites are the cranberry & pecan baked wild rice with shallots and the quinoa & avocado salad with orange dressing. They're perfect to take to work. They're make-ahead dishes that can last you through the week and are served cool.

The other great thing about this book is that it offers variations on each dish. There are dairy free options, different spice and herb combinations; it's super useful. I don't know that it's necessarily "the only compendium of gluten-free dishes you'll ever need," but it is a great staple to have in your gluten-free kitchen.

The Creeps

by John Connolly













I waited years for this book. I so enjoyed The Gates and The Infernals, I couldn't wait for the third book in the Samuel Johnson series. But, as much as it pains me to say it, I was a little disappointed with The Creeps.

In The Creeps, the little town of Biddlecombe, England is once again threatened and invaded by forces of evil in the Multiverse. It falls to Samuel Johnson, his trusty dachshund Boswell, and friends (Dan and his morally questionable dwarves, Sargent Rowan and Constable Peel, Maria, Nurd and Wormwood (the two most endearing demons), and a rag-tag team of scientists (who helped start the whole mess in the first place) and assorted monsters/demons) to save not only Biddlecombe, but the Multiverse itself. The tears in space and time are explained, we find the reason for all the supernatural energy in Biddlecombe, and loose ends are tied.

Connolly continues a trend in the series that I love, which is his use of footnotes. For me, they are where the book really shines, when Connolly breaks in, in his own voice, to make a bad pun, or explain a joke, or tell the reader about string theory. They are clever and a highlight of the book. Not only are these authorial intrusions funny and entertaining, they're informative as well. The book overall contains a lot of historical and scientific facts, but they tend to be concentrated in the footnotes. And they make me feel like a kid with an infinite capacity for curiosity. Everything is connected and interesting and leads to more facts to be discovered.

The Creeps, however, is a little too silly for my taste, as well as a little too complicated. The demon-possessed toys skew the humor too young. I realize that these books are aimed for younger readers, but the elves and teddy bears and poorly explained evil storybook characters just didn't do it for me. Connolly's previous demons and dark forces were much more creative (Nurd, Wormwood, Crudford, The Watcher, etc.). And the multi-layered Multiverse is complicated in The Creeps. The Shadow Kingdom vs. Hell vs. Earth. I think Hell vs. Earth was enough. I also wish The Creeps had been darker, which is what impressed me so much about The Infernals. The silly and the chthonic (thank you, Connolly, for introducing me to that word) were better balanced in the previous two books.

The major flaw in the Samuel Johnson books, I hate to say, are the culminating battle scenes. The build up to the epic showdowns between Samuel & co. and the demonic forces is long and intense, and just doesn't pay off. The final battle in The Creeps is over in two short chapters! And in all three books these climax scenes aren't very vivid or difficult for the forces of good to win (with maybe the exception of The Infernals). Connolly puts so much thought and finesse into the characters and their journeys, but ultimately disappoints.

However, I still love the Samuel Johnson series. I want to recommend it to everyone, regardless of age. They're books that I really do think have something for everyone (unless you hate fantasy/science fiction, but even so, I think these books could change your mind). The series is enjoyable and fun, and they're great books to get lost in. The Infernals, for sure, is my favorite in the series, but I still recommend The Creeps. (You can't abandon a series 2/3 of the way through!)