Where'd You Go, Bernadette

From: Suko
To: My Readers

Here I go again, writing in epistolary form.  I'm writing this as a letter, because I've just read Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple, published in 2012, a book comprised of communications such as email messages and letters, with the exception of the words of the book's youngest main narrator, 15-year-old Bee, who writes in regular text.  I also wrote my review of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Schaffer and Annie Barrows in letter form, so I hope you will not be too dismayed that I'm doing this again.  Honestly, it's so much fun to write in this way that I could not resist; I discovered this when I had to write a secret letter to my daughter before she embarked on an overnight field trip on the Star of India ship in fourth grade.  It was great fun to draft a dramatic, fictitious letter (which included a made-up allusion to a relative with a drinking problem) to be read out loud by the captain.  So bear with me, dear readers!  Maria Semple's book simply reminded me of how pleasurable it is to write in this way, which seems to give a person more freedom to be inventive.

So what did I think about this book? Before I reveal anything, I need to give you a bit of background information.  A few years ago, I read and reviewed Maria Semple's first novel, This One is Mine.  Over this past spring (and into the summer), I started watching episodes of Arrested Development (my "new" favorite show, which I find absolutely hilarious), and eventually noticed Maria Semple's name in the credits. To me, this was an astonishing discovery, as a new fan of the show.  I wanted to interview her.  Well, she graciously declined the interview but generously offered to have her agent send me a copy of her latest book. I was fine with that.  Her new book had already received a plethora of very favorable reviews, so I felt lucky to be getting a copy.

My dear, patient readers, I will take advantage of you no more. What did I think about Where'd You Go, Bernadette--the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?  It would be all too easy to resort to the simple, unsophisticated ways I described the book to family members (who may well have doubted my integrity as a semi-professional book blogger) while I was reading this book with the quirky title, using the most nondescript and ordinary statements such as, "it's really good", or "it's really funny".  But you know what?  It really is.  My family heard me chortle (charming word, eh?) more than a few times. The characters are both engaging and endearing, and I enjoyed the story being told in multiple perspectives, from the points of view of Bee, Bernadette Fox, Elgie, Manjula Kapoor, Audrey Griffin, Soo-Lin Lee-Segal, Ollie-O, and others.  It's a very clever and creative way to present the story of ex-architect and MacArthur genius award winner Bernadette Fox, now an agoraphobic mother with a virtual assistant in Delhi and a low tolerance for "gnats", who has disappeared just prior to the family's planned excursion to Antarctica.  It may sound utterly wacky, but truthfully, this book is extremely entertaining, nothing short of brilliant.  It was fun to read, and remarkably funny.  Among other things, Maria Semple makes fun of the main setting of the book, Seattle (where the author lives), but, no worries--this only whetted my desire to visit this great city (the birthplace of Amazon.com and Starbucks!). 

Maria Semple does what she does best with this book: entertain!  Where'd You Go, Bernadette is one of my favorite books of the year so far, and certainly, the funniest.  And it reminded me of something to always keep in mind as a writer: you need to entertain.  You cannot be boring.  Not even for a nanosecond.

Thanks for reading,
Suko

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

From Suko to Readers

Dear Readers,

I have a confession to make, and the sooner I get it off my chest, the better. I admit that the outlandish title of this book, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, left me wondering if I'd ever actually read it. Many recommended this book to me, but I couldn't get past the awkward sounding, eight-word title. Guernsey brought to mind that special breed of cows--not anything to do with books or literary circles-- and it took me a while to even be able to recite the title properly. Furthermore, potato peel pie, quite frankly, sounded utterly unappealing to me, and I wondered if the book held any appeal for me at all. But, because this book received so many glowing reviews, I knew I'd read it--eventually. And I'm glad that I made the effort recently. Now I realize that the title is just right--its very oddness is wonderful--and I don't stumble over the title words quite as much.

An interesting, well-written letter is worth it's weight in gold, especially in this age of email and instant messages. Published in 2008, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society is a set of letters from Juliet, a writer in London, to the other characters in the book, many of whom live in Guernsey, one of the Channel Islands (part of Great Britain but located in the English Channel, close enough to see mainland Europe with the naked eye). This is an epistolary book, a novel written as a series of documents, letters in this case. (I wish I could write such dramatic letters!) Written with ample warmth and humor, these letters form a novel that's an original celebration of books and the written word, and of human connection. (Letters are an engaging, creative way to tell a story. I enjoyed reading West From Home by Laura Ingalls Wilder and her daughter, Rose, which is also a series of letters. What other books are composed solely of letters?)

In this sensational novel, written by Mary Ann Schaffer and Annie Barrows, the title literary club is formed, literally, in self-defense. During World War II, Guernsey was occupied by the Germans for five years, who, among other things, imposed strict curfews on the villagers. Caught heading home past curfew after an illegal dinner of roast pork, an assorted group of islanders form The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society—out of the need for an immediate alibi. In order to validate their claim, the members of this newly formed literary group decide to hold actual subsequent meetings (sometimes featuring desserts such as potato peel pie, the only pie they could make with the scant supplies available). To their surprise, especially since several of the members had never read much before, the club soon ignites a genuine love of reading and books, as well as some intense literary debates.

As London emerges from the shadow of World War II in 1946, writer Juliet Ashton is looking for her next book subject. She is contacted by a native of Guernsey, who has discovered her name written inside a book by Charles Lamb. As Juliet and her new correspondent exchange letters, Juliet is drawn into the intriguing world of this man, Dawsey, a pig farmer, and other members of the book club who also write to her. Juliet begins a prolific correspondence with the society’s members--charming them (and us!) with her marvelous letters--and learning about their island, their book preferences, and the impact the recent German occupation has had on their lives. Captivated by their stories, she sails to Guernsey, and the course of her own life is greatly altered.

I absolutely adore this line from the book, and although it is on the inside book jacket, I will repeat it here because it is superb:

"Perhaps there is some sort of secret homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers."

That is exactly how I felt about this book: that it was precisely what I needed to read. This happens to me fairly often. I pick up a book and quickly realize it's what I need to be reading, that it has significance and relates to my life in some way in an almost uncanny manner. In this instance, it's significance was mostly due to all the "book talk".

If you have read this book, have an interest in reading it, or have a comment related to something else in this post, I would enjoy hearing from you. As always, thank you for reading.


Yours sincerely,
Suko