:: roanoke - or, what really happened at OBX ::

for a very long time, I've been utterly fascinated by the lost colony of roanoke. where did they go? how? why?
   I've never known many details: at the most basic, that 115 people landed at roanoke in 1587 to start a colony. three years later, a supply ship from england arrived… to find no people, no houses -- nor any sign of distress. on a tree was carved one word: "croatoan" -- the name of a nearby island. but by the time any englishman made it to that island, there were no settlers. faint rumors were spread some years after about gray-eyed, pale indians, but many miles inland where the settlers had no plans to go; and no one ever heard from these lost colonists again.
   so what happened?

  at barnes & noble a few weeks ago, I saw a book called roanoke: solving the mystery of the lost colony, and was so intrigued that I bought it to read on the plane home (it was a west coast b&n, incidentally). and I read it.
   hm.

  the author -- historian lee miller -- brought an interesting perspective to the table: her theory is that the going-missing of the colonists was just a part of a smear campaign directed at sir walter ralegh (the one who backed the settlement plan). she suggests that rather than just the accidental, coincidental loss of a colony, this was an intentional move on someone's part back in england, who wanted to make sure none of the colonists survived. this is not the case of difficult communication between america and england back then, she postulates; this is a case of premeditated murder. ultimately, ms. miller suggests that, caught up in swirling hostilities between the nearby indian tribes, the weakened settlers were captured (as was planned by the powers that be) -- the men killed, the women and children sold as slaves, eventually so intermingled with the indians that no trace of the english remained.
   interesting, no?
   but far-fetched. that's what I thought at first. however, ms. miller mixes quite a few excerpts from original documents (they make up a good 50% of the book) and detailed dissections of politics -- both in elizabeth's court as well as among the surrounding indian tribes.
   if the colonists were not just your typical group, but instead a political and religious minority who used this opportunity to flee persecution; if the failure of this settlement could be worked against ralegh's character by appearing utterly funded by self-interest; if these 115 people could be erased by surrounding, hostile indian tribes, hiding the real culprit whose responsibility could be easily disclaimed; if a double agent managed to land the colonists -- not where they were supposed to be placed, but -- on a terribly situated island called roanoke, miles away from where it would be said they had settled, to reduce any chance of being located by supply ships…her theory is at least possible. she rather won me over.
 
   that is, if I understand correctly what ms. miller was trying to say: I have never read such terrible prose in a published book. it was ungainly, confusing, and terribly punctuated.

London is a very old, walled city. So old, in fact, that in the sixteenth century Roman artifacts and ruins are frequently unearthed layers below the current street levels -- much to everyone's amazement. Mute testimony to the strata of human life long sustained here by the Thames. Along the southern edge of the city the river charts a smooth course, gliding past the Tower, the wharves, the ruins of Baynard's Castle, the ancient monastery of Blackfriars by the western wall. Sweeping everything in. A history steeped in water.

   how did that get past the editor?? it was a lot of cruddy writing to wade through. so I think I know what her conclusion was, but I can't be sure -- it gets a little convoluted.
   part of ms. miller's trouble was trying to add drama to the narrative (I think was her intention?) by putting her words, her slightly fictionalized narrative* in present tense. unfortunately, every old document she quotes is written in past tense, making for very choppy reading. unnecessarily, too, because I feel like the suspense and drama the author was shooting for could have been much more easily attained by past-tense storytelling.

   provided that I understood her conclusion, ms. miller did a fine job persuading me. I can accept this conspiracy-theory-meets-warring-tribes theory -- if only to feel some closure on the lost colony question.
 
language, scale of mild to spicy: mild.
book hangover: approximately 30 minutes.

*by "slightly fictionalized narrative", I mean she adds some little scenes that maybe didn't happen: captain john white (real dude) watching roanoke fade into the distance, waving goodbye to his daughter (also real) on the shore (yes, she was left, with her husband and infant). …but did he really wave? that's what she 'slightly fictionalizes'. 

:: my new favorite children's book ::

the cute cover and the kid's-mystery-book feel of the back description totally fooled me. I picked up when you reach me by rebecca stead and went, huh. I suppose it could be a cute story. my sister lottie (of 'little lotte' fame) had just finished it for school, and she's like, "yeahhhhh, read it!" so I started to.

the first chapter/prologue-thing was interesting. I was all, meh, not bad. interesting hook. probably the person to whom she's writing is like, her mom, and it'll be how they get to, you know, really understand each other and be bestest friends, and then she and sal are always together and it all works out, and maybe plus mr. perfect, and everybody lives happily ever after.

boy. was I wrong.

I'm having a hard time even knowing exactly what to say about this book, because I loved it so much (once I'd finished it, after uncurling from my fetus position and wiping my red, puffy eyes, I read it again) and I would hate to spoil it for anyone. but I have set myself up to write about it and I will endeavor to finish what I begin.
   gosh, I love this book.

okay, so the premise is that this girl -- miranda -- lives with her mom in a little apartment that's pretty run-down and scummy; a wrinkle in time is her favorite book; her best friend, sal, is no longer speaking to her; and "after three years of trying, [miranda's mom] has actually made it" onto dick clark's game show, the $20,000 pyramid. and then the first note appears in her room, from someone who knows more than they should, and claims they're coming "to save your friend's life, and my own".
   the story follows miranda as she navigates her relationships with the people around her, and learns how to love them; more deeply, it speaks to how much the little things we do impact others, for better or worse -- and how we would change things, if we could go back.

the obvious plot is "miranda's mom is going to be on a game show and must practice for it". this practice involves giving spoken clues to get a desired word ("you use this to put food in your mouth -- not a spoon, but a…" "fork!"). that's the first round. the second is similar, but harder: the contestant is given more word clues, but this time they have to guess the connecting category: things you prolong. things you squeeze. things that are warped.
   I mention this because there are several subplots -- miranda's relationship with sal, and then how she meets the kid who punched him; her growing friendship with annemarie, the best friend of miranda's worst enemy; even her clashes with that worst enemy, julia -- that all serve as smaller threads relating in some way to that original plot, which becomes a foundation for the rest. the game show becomes a frame through which miranda views all the events leading up to it, so much so that the chapter titles (separate sections in her letter?) reflect both the game show and her life: things that go missing. things that get tangled. things that heal. things that blow away.

miranda's friendship with sal breaks up relatively early on in the book, when he's punched by an older boy on the way home from school and then stops speaking to her. in her desperation (sal was really it as far as friends go) she ends up settling for annemarie, a girl from her class who turns out to be much better than miranda first supposed -- and colin, who inserts himself and gets all three of them lunch-break jobs at a greasy sandwich shop down the street.
   but as miranda misses sal, she starts to recognize loneliness in others. she becomes a better friend to everyone around her as she responds to their needs, giving sal his space, supporting annemarie, patching things up with julia, and even becoming alice's bathroom buddy. …you'd get that reference if you'd read the book. hint hint.
   miranda develops in little things. she gives a sandwich to the crazy, homeless man who lives under the mailbox, something she never would have considered at the beginning, she was so scared of him; but she's learned to look more deeply at other people.

still, in keeping with the little-is-bigger-than-you-think themes of the book, those little things make a huge impact. more than "be nice to people" or "don't be prejudiced", when you reach me focuses on no regrets: be whom you want to be now, before it's too late.
   I haven't really touched on the notes, although they're a huge part of the story, because it's just too hard to cover them well without giving away too much; but they eerily hint at a coming disaster, and it's not clear what that disaster is until it happens, when miranda realizes the importance of loving others, the way they want to be loved, and doing it now. while there's a chance. no matter what happened in the past, or what will happen in the future, loving others now will save a lot of regrets. one missed opportunity could break your heart. one hurtful action could alter the rest of your life.

when you reach me is a brilliant book. original, funny, relatable, you understand more each time you read it (at least, that's my experience). the themes are well-drawn and the characters are well-developed, simple enough to get a 10-year-old's attention, but complex and profound enough to keep mine (I'm almost 19, is all. not that my intellect requires so much; I still read sheep on a ship, for pete's sake).
   on a language scale of one to four (sweet, mild, spicy, or hot), I'd say sweet to mild. it is a kid's book, so it's not rough, but there are one or two instances where she uses "hell" (I say 'or two' because I can only remember one, but there might have been another instance), and the Lord's name is taken in vain a very few times.
 
   my book hangover period was approximately 24 hours (I'm only counting until the tearful feeling wore off). this book will stick with you.
   but not that that's a bad thing.

:: woman in white ::

back in december I bought the woman in white at barnes & noble because I remembered really liking it. it took me a while to get around to ACTUALLY reading it because, y'know, life, but I managed to get a chapter in here and there and I have finally finished it. WOO.

first impression: I liked it just as much as I did the first time. maybe more. 

second impression: I really don't like laura fairlie.

the woman in white is a huge, sprawling novel that takes several narrators and lots of explanations to convey the plot. the story is basically this: walter hartright, a struggling painter, takes a situation in the country -- teaching two young women to draw -- that promises good pay. the night before he leaves london, he meets with a mysterious woman who needs his help. the incidence would have been forgotten, except for some chance happenings (and a striking resemblance) once he's installed in his position that make him wonder if there was more to her than a poor mental patient -- and if there is more to this family's history than they know. 

    so walter, with the aid of the older sister, sets out to discover what this woman's story is, finding more questions along the way (and, in all honesty, more answers than he'd bargained for). oh, and if you didn't guess it, he falls hopelessly in love, but of course you guessed it. what would a victorian story be without a little star-crossed romance??

it's pretty thrilling, and it's a sort-of gothic-but-actually-not drama. as the introduction says, "a novel we may have thought, given its evocative, potentially spooky title, would be a Gothic tale of supernatural terrors and pale wraiths turns out to be a novel simply of sensational plotting, family treachery, and absolutely nothing paranormal."
   what I really incredibly enjoy about this story is the unpredictability. sure, there are some more or less predictable characters or occurrences (guess what? marian is the strong woman character, and she is all the way through the book), but the pith of the story -- what is sir percival's secret?! -- isn't your run-of-the-mill petty scandal. when I first read woman in white, I assumed that his secret was an affair or something like that; oh, he embezzled some money, and now he's afraid he'll go to jail. the twist was fresh and pretty inventive; that's what I really appreciated.

on to laura fairlie. let's begin with walter hartright's description of her.

Mingling with the vivid impression produced by the charm of her fair face and head, her sweet expression, and her winning simplicity of manner, was another impression, which, in a shadowy way, suggested to me the idea of something wanting. At one time it seemed like something wanting in her; at another, like something wanting in myself, which hindered me from understanding her as I ought. … Something wanting, something wanting -- and where it was, and what it was, I could not say.  

 that's it? that's IT?? what is this woman, a puppet?? again, the introduction.

For Laura, of course, the incompleteness rests in in her lack of control over her own destiny; for the reader, however, it lies in the partial development of her character, a lack of volition, a lifeless complicity to play pawn in others' plans for her, no matter what they may be. 

TRUTH. she spends the entire book vapid and lifeless, making no decisions, having no opinions of her own. she relies solely on her half-sister (and walter, later on), apathetically submitting to injustice and essentially enabling her victimization. the one time she shows any spark of life is when… a character... tries to force her to sign something. 

'Scruples!' he repeated. 'Your scruples! It is rather late in the day for you to be scrupulous. I should have thought you had got over all weakness of that sort, when you made a virtue of necessity by marrying me.'
      The instant he spoke these words, Laura threw down the pen -- looked at him with an expression in her eyes, which throughout all my experience of her, I had never seen in them before -- and turned her back on him in dead silence.

the rest of the book, she is a passive, obedient observer, with few emotions and really no character. she is the exact opposite of marian halcombe, who has all the resolve and resolution of a man, and whom I actually like. in fact, marian is my favorite character in the whole book, and her distinct unlikeness to laura might say something about the kind of characters I like. ones who do something.
    
    laura fairlie is a small complaint, though. as I consider the rest of the book, it might turn out to be a positive thing; a symbol and a layer of meaning I've missed in a shallow overview. like, anne catherick's insanity gives her resolution; her foil laura is technically sane (though she can't even prove that) and cannot make her own decisions. laura and marian are opposites in everything: looks, money, personality, character. marian is more masculine, laura is more feminine, to the point where one marries and the other does not. 
    …you know, this is fascinating. I'll keep thinking about it.

the rest of the characters -- count fosco, his wife, sir percival, mrs. catherick, marian halcombe, even pesca -- are complex and fascinating. the different narrators are interesting (although some pose a believability problem: how the heck did you get him to write this?), and the varied points of view drive the story on. 
    I might be coming back with more on woman in white. for now, all I can say is -- it's a great story. read it.  

:: the hot zone ::

ever heard of marburg? well, it's a virus, and until I read the hot zone by richard preston, I hadn't either. here's an excerpt explaining it. 

"Marburg is one of a family of viruses known as the filoviruses. Marburg was the first filovirus to be discovered. The word filovirus is Latin and means 'thread virus.' The filoviruses look alike, as if they are sisters, and they resemble no other virus on earth. ... In Germany, the effects of the Marburg virus on the brain were particularly frightening, and resembled the effects of rabies: the virus somehow damaged the central nervous system and could destroy the brain, as does rabies."

also, marburg kills one out of four people who get it. 

creepy, huh? 

surprisingly, the hot zone isn't about marburg, but a specific outbreak of another virus, a new, previously undiscovered "sister" strain. 

"Marburg was the mildest of the three filovirus sisters. The worst of them was Ebola Zaire. The kill rate in humans infected with Ebola Zaire is nine out of ten. Ninety percent of the people who come down with Ebola Zaire die of it. Ebola Zaire is a slate wiper in humans."

so what happens when a man from the african wilderness goes to the big city for treatment, crashes and bleeds out in a roomful of people -- with a deadly virus that is airborne and untreatable? or when a shipment of monkeys arrives in washington, d.c. and begin to die and people don't find out it's a strain of ebola until too late? what do you do? (well, we're all alive now, so nothing too bad could have happened, but the possibilities are terrifying.)

   the hot zone is about both the scientific and personal sides of the contraction of these viruses. richard preston covers the stories of several inside people; well-known victims, first-hand witnesses, and one man who actually survived, layering science and facts with objective viewpoints and a pretty fast-paced narration.
   beginning with the first in a train of victims, he describes "charles monet" as he gets ebola and dies of it. the rest of the book follows nancy and jerry jaax -- a married couple in a biological unit of the army -- and their part of the mid-80s outbreak, interspersed with other sides of the story: who and what led to the culmination of it all at the reston monkey house, and the scientific dangers and political undercurrents swirling around that final "hot zone". at the climax, a level 4 biohazard operation is kicked into effect as monkeys are dying, covered in blood, and... we couldn't stop it. 
  quite the book to read at midnight.
  richard preston's short, terse sentences add a lot of tension to the storytelling. the interspersed scientific facts really helped me understand the underlying causes (as far as we know them) and added a layer of horror, since this actually happened, and actually does scary things to people. it's not just some what-if fantasy story: we really don't know how it spreads -- though it appears to spread in every way possible, from blood to breathing -- nor do we know how to stop it, since we don't even really know how it does what it does.
   it is a riveting book.

as far as warnings go... there is some language. not a lot, but it's definitely there. neither is this a book for the squeamish: there are some graphic descriptions of what the virus does to the human body (if you can't handle the wikipedia page on vomito negro, don't even start this book. an [uncredited] excerpt is here, if you're still unsure). fascinating, but gross. 
   the hot zone might inspire nightmares and fears of worldwide pandemics. it might inspire disgust and horror. it might inspire relief, or a fear of airsickness bags forevermore. if you're courageous enough to read about all the horrific things this parasitic virus does to the animal called homo sapiens, be prepared to be awestruck that such variety exists in our world and for thoughts of, "what would I do if that were me?"
   and enjoy the ride. it's not every day that you can come into contact with such fascinating, deadly diseases, nor the realization that modern science doesn't always have the answers. 
   yes, it must have originated from somewhere in kitum cave; but where? how does it spread? and... what would we do if it came back? 

:: in which, I get a life ::

I've seriously been posting like a crazy person for the past, like, two weeks. because I was focusing on oliver twist there was enough material for me to write like heck and I can't resist posting when I have a ready-to-go draft just sitting there under my 'posts' tab; but this is all going to change.
   why? I got a job.
   yes, a job. please pick your jaw up off the floor.
this isn't going to significantly cut down on the time I have to read/blather about what I read, I'm pretty sure, but I'll be pretty tired so my posts will probably become less frequent. ...although I just got home from my first day (at ze tea parlor! woo!) about an hour ago, and here I am, so who knows.

a really great book I just read last week, if anyone is interested: the shuttle, by frances hodgson burnett (also wrote secret garden and a little princess). it's got an american heroine and a british hero (OH YEAH) -- kind of your typical turn-of-the-century story in some ways, with the all-capable woman who has strength of character and purpose, an evil villain who is seemingly unstoppable, and lots of really sappy unliterary parts that are essentially fluff (it's like woman in white for kids).
   I am so comfortable with myself that I can admit I read fluff sometimes for the sheer fun-ness of it all. okay? and this is sweet fluff. not like cotton candy, which has zippo nutritional value; no, this is like cracker jack because it is sweet, has some nutritional value (POPCORN IS GOOD FOR YOU LA LA LA LA I'M NOT LISTENING), and a little prize hidden in the box. ...that last one doesn't exactly count. the shuttle is kinda... predictable.
   oh, and this is also a small box of cracker jack. the kind that you pig out on, finish in an embarrassingly short amount of time, and then realize if you had any more you'd probably throw up. ...was that too graphic?

anyway, it was totally enjoyable. it really speaks to that "if I were a millionaire I would go around sprinkling wealth on the poverty-stricken and grateful" wish that resides in my heart. I lived vicariously through bettina vanderpoel and was happy, until the end when I had to stop.
   *sighs for hard lot in life
   also, it's available free through gutenberg.org, if you're interested.

well, I'm going to see our town performed tonight, so I need to go get ready.
   hm. five-thirty here in kentucky. -- you get a good rest, too. good night.

:: book review - our mutual friend ::

I figured it would be smart to start off with a lit review, and one of a book I’m relatively familiar with. to my self, "self: your favorite book would be a good choice"; but then again, "self: your lousy writing skills would persuade people to never read it again" (and being a dickens – of course – that would be a catastrophe); and then I thought, "self: he’s amazing enough and nobody even reads this yet!" so I was comforted and have decided to write about 
our mutual friend, by charles dickens.

I won’t go off on dickens (although heaven knows I could); I’ll reserve that glorious job for later. 
I love OMF – first –  because of the character descriptions. dickens has an amazing talent in characterizing characters, giving them personality in a few lines. he represents them, often, by some repeated action: mr. chadband (bleak house), who says the equivalent of nothing for a paragraph (“why do we eat, my brethren? is it to keep ourselves satisfied? if it is, let us partake…”), or uriah heep (david copperfield), who is described as constantly rubbing his “clammy” hands and writhing. writhing. can’t you just see him and his red eyes? but back to OMF.
take his description of the veneerings, for example (and that name should give you a clue as to what’s coming). 

“Mr. and Mrs. Veneering were bran-new people in a bran-new house in a bran-new quarter of London. Everything about the Veneerings was spick and span new. All their furniture was new, all their friends were new, all their servants were new, their plate was new, their carriage was new, their harness was new, their horses were new, their pictures were new, they themselves were new, they were as newly married as was lawfully compatible with their having a bran-new baby, and if they had set up a great-grandfather, he would have come home in matting from the Pantechnicon, without a scratch upon him, French polished to the crown of his head.” {book 1, chapter 2}

       now, that’s not very deep; but isn’t it perfect for a couple like *coughcough* the veneerings? (by the way, apparently a pantechnicon was a furniture-moving van back before horseless carriages were considered a possibility. I believe it also refers to a warehouse that stored furniture.)
       it’s not just who he writes about that’s so compelling, either. he has a way of “demanding your heart” (as elizabeth mccracken put it); he is at times witty, sarcastic, wry, sweet, or touching, and sometimes a combination of any two. 

“Tippins, with a bewitching little scream, opines that we shall every one of us be murdered in our beds. Eugene eyes her as if some of us would be enough for him.” {book 2, chapter 16}

“The doctor came in, too, to see how it fared with Johnny. And he and Rokesmith stood together, looking down with compassion on him. ‘What is it, Johnny?’ Rokesmith was the questioner, and put an arm around the poor baby as he made a struggle. ‘Him!’ said the little fellow. ‘Those!’ The doctor was quick to understand children, and, taking [toys given to Johnny earlier]…softly placed them on [the bed] of his next neighbor, the mite with the broken leg. 
With a weary and yet a pleased smile, and with an action as if he stretched his little figure out to rest, the child heaved his body on the sustaining arm, and seeking Rokesmith’s face with his lips, said: ‘A kiss for the boofer [beautiful] lady.’ 
Having now bequeathed all he had to dispose of, and arranged his affairs in this world, Johnny, thus speaking, left it.” {book 2, chapter 10}

“’Two belated wanderers in the mazes of the law,’ said Eugene, attracted by the sound of footsteps, and glancing down as he spoke, ‘stray into the court. They examine the doorposts of number one, seeking the name they want. Not finding it at number one, they come to number two. On the hat of wanderer number two, the shorter one, I drop this pellet. Hitting him on the hat, I smoke serenely, and become absorbed in contemplation of the sky.’” {Book 2, chapter 6}

        OMF was dickens’s last completed work, and it shows his maturity as a writer – the depth and complexity of both the characters and the plotline is astounding. the multitude and diversity of characters is pretty surprising; he makes them all vibrant and most of them personable. here’s a quick summary of the story.
        he introduces (most of) the many characters in the first five chapters (I counted: 30, who show up more than once, and that’s not even all who end up playing a part), and he spends the rest of the book weaving their lives – at first seeming utterly separate – into a complex story with a remarkable pattern. lizzie hexam is the daughter of a man who scavenges the thames river for dead bodies and takes whatever valuables they died with. desperate for a future for her bright brother, charlie, lizzie sacrificially sends him away, only to have her father nearly drowned one night, under very mysterious circumstances; but he doesn’t care about his daughter and offers no protection when a creepy, angry young man becomes oddly interested in her and she can’t escape his attentions. 
        john harmon returns to england after the death of his father, but is murdered within two days of his arrival, his drowned body is put on display "for identification", and his fortune is given to his family's two oldest servants. 
        bella wilfer, a poor, beautiful girl with no heart and no scruples, is disappointed that her rich fiancé is dead: she wanted his money – and she is disturbed by her family's mysterious boarder. is he watching her? and who is the "julian handford" people have met, but have never been able to produce? 
        there’s a lawyer and his happy-go-lucky sidekick, an evil schoolteacher, a couple who both marry for the other's imaginary fortune, and an unscrupulous blackmailer; together, they make for a funny, bittersweet story that ends with a summary of love, life, and 'the voice of society' -- the best that I have ever read. 
       (after gushing like that, I feel like I should say, "it's really exciting, but if you want to find out who did the murder, you'll have to read the book yourself and find out." ...but I'm not going to. don't worry.)

and if that hasn’t persuaded you? …well, I did my best.