The Widower's Tale

I've had trouble reading lately. Not because I don't have tons of times on my hands, but because Julia Glass' latest book, The Widower's Tale, was so absorbing, I wanted first to savor it and once I'd finished reading it, I found it hard to move on. This isn't really about a widower, exactly. I say that because I have a widowed friend who won't even touch a book with such a title. Yes, Percy Darling is a widower, has been for 40 years, and perhaps hasn't fully come to terms with his wife's death, but this book is more about the people around him than any personal sorrows he still harbors over Poppy's death.

I was struck again at how well Glass does in portraying such a variety of characters, how believable her gay, thirty year old preschool teacher is alongside 70 year old Percy. She also captures well Percy's 20 year old grandson and his dubious roommate, and the the landscaping illegal immigrant and various others. She must have taken my criticism of her last book very seriously indeed, when I felt she'd totally failed to capture a spry 90 year old in I See You Everywhere.

That's not to say I bought everything. I really didn't believe in Percy's late romance--not just because of the age gap, but perhaps because I simply didn't like the object of his affections. No, she didn't grow on me. Celestino, the illegal immigrant had a whiff of the "noble savage" to him which I found vaguely troubling and a little condescending, but I liked his character and his story line, so I forgive.

I appreciated the sense of danger that grandson Robert's roommate at Harvard brought to the picture with his extreme environmentalism, all while wishing to strangle him for throwing figurative monkey wrenches in Robert's well-laid plans. The characters are what drive this book, and they all revolve around Percy, recently retired librarian (at Harvard's Widener). I always like a literary host to any gathering and Percy fills that in spades, making witicisms, even when uncalled for, and gadding about his wealthy, landed gentry town. He agrees to rent his barn to a unfortunately named preschool--Elves and Fairies--while expecting to maintain his privacy and routine. The first thing to go, of course, is his habit of swimming naked in his pond. That is only the first of many of his habits to fall and at first it seems Percy will fail at retired life. He has events and people thrust upon him at uncomfortable regularity, but he's no true curmudgeon after all. He just plays one to the choir and meddles when he can. He is a good father to his very different daughters, a good friend and mentor to those who need it, and in the end, he holds the future of many in his still-capable hands.

The Widower's Tale does offer a sense of endings and sadness, as befits its title, but it's not of death or absence. It's more that the choices we make in life become our story.

What to read while proctoring state tests

October is a really tough month at work because my day is spent watching kids fail at the required state tests. Sometimes I'm allowed to read parts of the test to them, but most of the time, I have to sit beside them and (supposedly) cheer them into doing their best on tests that are overwhelming and meaningless to them, but very much a component of what funds my job.

So, yeah, sometimes I read at work.

I started reading Alan Brennert's Moloka'i which is a novel about the leper colony on one of the islands that eventually became Hawaii. This was my book club assignment and I was intrigued because it wasn't something I would ever pick up. Confession: I have serious issues with books that have a lot of bodily fluid talk in them. I suppose that makes me a bit of a prude, but there you have it. The only thing I remember about Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children is that the protagonist had a big nose that was always oozing something or other. So much for a masterpiece. Obviously a book about leprosy was going to be a challenge.

Actually, the oozy bits and sloughed off body parts weren't the problem in this book and I forged ahead. In fact, I almost finished it, but I thought the writing was pretty bad. The author couldn't decide on a point of view so there were vertiginal swoops from one character to another, sometimes within a paragraph. I kept going because the story was definitely intriguing--the life and times of a 7 year old girl sent away to live on Moloka'i when leprosy was considered a dangerous and infectious disease. Parts of this life were fascinating and parts were, frankly, quite dull. After awhile I didn't care anymore. Plus I was stuck in a small, windowless room with kids failing to read the word "mechanical" and so unable to help pass a test that essentially funds my job. I needed something more light-hearted than leprosy.

Fortunately, my office is next to the school library, so between tests, I picked up a copy of Roderick Townley's The Blue Shoe, which is on this year's Great Stone Face Award. The subtitle of The Blue Shoe is A Tale of Thievery, Villainy, Sorcery, and Shoes, and it was fantastic. I read 3/4 of it while "working". I've only read three of the books on this list, but this one's a clear winner. Hap Barlo is a gifted thief, sent to do hard time on a distant mountain full of evil humans and angry blue-faced Auks (dwarf-like characters). He is doing penance for feeding a beggar in his home town--begging being a criminal offense. As the narrator puts it--and it's an intrusive narrator--Did I mention that the poor were arrested in Aplanap? They were. Well, beggars were arrested. You could be poor all you wanted and you'd be left alone. But if hunger forced you into the streets to beg for a coin, large men would come and cart you to jail, and from there, they'd ship you to the north side of the next moutnain, a peak so tall its top was perpetually covered in snow and surrounded by swirling clouds.

Hap doesn't really mind being sent to the mountain, as he hopes to reunite with his formerly-begging father, but it is a bad place. Eventually, aided by the love of his thirteen-year-old life, some Auks and the women who love them, some luck, and some magic, Hap sets things right, while showing up the obnoxious mayor and his wife. The mayor gets a great description. The narrator flatly refuses to say his name--claiming it is unpronounceable--but lovingly describes the scary wart on his brow that helps keep the villagers in line. Imagine what is wife--Ludmilla the Large is like. All the characters are amusing and well-written so that's half the treat. The ending is disappointing, but I guess most kids' books are that way. Definitely The Blue Shoe is a great escape if you're ever stuck doing some mind-numbing work that depresses you to boot.
I like to think I'm inspiring the testing kids to read more and therefore pass the test next year.

In the meantime, I've moved back to the adult world and onto Julia Glass' excellent The Widower's Tale. More on that when testing season is over.