My bookmobile

I love drive-to vacation spots because I can turn my car's backseat into a traveling bookmobile. In June, I piled in with the new standalone Laura Lippman, Margaret Drabble's The Sea Lady, Sigrid Nunez's The Last of Her Kind, Linda Barnes' Heart of the World, Dani Shapiro's Black and White, Maile Meloy's A Family Daughter and Heidi Julavits' The Uses of Enchantment. Of course I didn't read them all during that week away, but I wanted to have options. Three went back to the library unread and the others were a surprisingly mixed bag. That's one of the wonders of reading -- even though I have a sense of what the book is about and that I'll probably like it, there's always that element of surprise. I was initially lukewarm about The Last of Her Kind, having heard endless buzz about it. I thought it sounded like a familiar story and wondered what Nunez could bring to the table that was new. My cynicism was dispelled in the first chapter. She is a wonderful writer, worthy of all the praise, and she created two interesting, multi-dimensional characters whose life stories I eagerly followed. I also loved the book's cover photograph -- featuring two young women, and accurately capturing that late 60's/early 70's vibe. I was struck by how natural these young women looked, compared to the current ideal with its emphasis on artificiality -- unattainably thin figures, cosmetic and surgical enhancements that make the individual seem otherworldly.

With my next read, I entered the suspenseful world of Linda Barnes. I'd started Heart of the World earlier, but just couldn't get into it. This time I couldn't put it down. I've followed the Carlotta Carlyle series since the late 80's and was relieved that Barnes hadn't lost her touch.

Then came The Uses of Enchantment, which so sounded like my kind of my book that I'd been saving it as my vacation treat. Unfortunately, it was such a slog to get through. I kept reading, hoping that Julavits would turn it around and finally get the story going, making it as gripping as the novel's premise. No dice. It was like reading a Joyce Carol Oates parody. Which left me thinking, what was all that fuss about?

A Family Daughter was the perfect antidote. Meloy's writing style (which I knew had to be overhyped) was delightful -- light and quirky in contrast to the complex family drama she was describing. I loved this book, and planned to read the prequel as soon as I got home.

Now, it's August and I'm taking some big books away with me to enjoy -- Michael Chabon's The Yiddish Policeman's Union and Hermione Lee's biography of Edith Wharton. I've loved everything Chabon's written and I'm kvelling at his incredible storytelling after only a few chapters. Since Lee wrote the definitive biography of Virginia Woolf, I can't wait to see what she makes of Wharton's life. I'm thinking about taking Jane Smiley's Ten Days in the Hills since it's due at the end of the week, but I'll probably return it to the library unread. I also may bring Irene Nemirovsky's Suite Francaise since it's my book group's selection for September. Yet again, I'm covering all my bases.

Have you noticed the trend in my reading selections? Overwhelmingly, novels written by contemporary women. My book group deserves a lot of credit for making me read non-fiction and works by men, and I've discovered some great writers and stories as a result. But I've spent the past 26 years reading modern women writers -- in upcoming posts, I'll explain why.

Vacations also are a great time for knitting and currently, I'm consumed with socks. I'll be finishing up the seconds on two pair -- enjoying the satisfaction of turning heels and entering the home stretch, while dreading the hell of grafting.

I'll post again at the end of the week...