Category Archives: British

May 23, 2013 · 9:02 am

Anatomy of a Disappearance by Hisham Matar

Anatomy of a DisappearanceHisham Matar’s second novel (following his much-lauded, substantially-awarded debut, In the Country of Men) reads like a fast-moving dream, events jarringly, jaggedly forced together, and yet somehow managing to maintain a clear, thoughtful narrative. Narrator Steve West’s methodically-paced, calmly-controlled voice imbues Matar’s haunting story with dignity and gravitas.

Disappearance, absence, displacement loom large throughout Nuri’s life. Even as a young boy, what Nuri knows of his Cairo home is already a compromised existence-in-exile as a result of his father’s political past. When his mother dies, his father remarries a vibrant young woman named Mona whom the 12-year-old Nuri claims as his own upon first sight. Sent away to an exclusive English boarding school, Nuri is separated from all that is familiar, including the devoted servant girl who helped raise him.

And then his father disappears, in 1972 when Nuri is just 14. That loss becomes the single defining event of Nuri’s life; in the desperate, unending search to discover what happened, both Nuri and Mona learn as many truths about themselves, and each other, as about the distant, enigmatic man who once held them tenuously together.

The missing parent looms large in both of Matar’s titles, telling proof that he writes what he knows: Matar lost his own father, a Libyan dissident, to a politically motivated kidnapping in 1990; decades later, the elder Matar remains missing.

In a January 2010 article for the UK’s Guardian, Matar wrote about learning that his father was seen “‘[f]rail, but well’” in 2002 in a secret prison, although the news took eight years to reach the surviving family: ” … weeks from finishing that novel [Anatomy], I learn that my father, who disappeared 20 years ago, might be alive … Uncanny how reality presses against that precious quiet place of dreaming. As if life is jealous of fiction.” Fictional as Anatomy claims to be, echoing his literary stand-in Nuri, Matar holds on to his father’s coat waiting for his someday-return. “Maybe it still fits him,” he muses.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2011

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Arab, British, Egyptian, European, Middle Eastern

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April 30, 2013 · 9:33 am

Religion for Atheists: A Non-Believer’s Guide to the Uses of Religion by Alain de Botton

Religion for AtheistsI refer to myself as a ‘recovering Catholic,’ and yet I can’t stay out of churches for long. I enter as a tourist – admiration for architecture seems to be genetically coded into our extended family – but I linger to breathe deeply, clear the mind temporarily, and just be. While I may have discarded most of the religious tenets from youth, I still find precious moments of peace in these so-called holy spaces.

Here in his penultimate title, the ever-irreverent Alain de Botton recognizes that power of religious architecture, and suggests that even better would be to create secular temples with similar goals: “they would all be connected through the ancient aspiration of sacred architecture: to place us for at time in a thoroughly structured three-dimensional space, in order to educate and rebalance our souls.” Build and we will come, for sure!

Beyond holy architecture, in the vein of ‘don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater,’ de Botton wants to “reverse the process of religious colonization: … to separate ideas and rituals from the religious institutions which have laid claim to them but don’t truly own them.” While fundamentalists might be ready to issue a fatwa, de Botton’s message is hardly threatening: ignore the dogma and let’s find ways to be better people living better lives.

Divided into revealing one-word chapters – “Kindness,” “Tenderness,” “Perspective,” and so on – de Botton uses his usual charming erudition to reclaim the best of religion: “many of the problems of the modern soul can successfully be addressed by solutions put forward by religions … Religions are intermittently too useful, effective and intelligent to be abandoned to the religious alone.” Ready to learn? Choose the page; while Kris Dyer’s excellent narration can’t be faulted, you won’t want to miss the photos and illustrations – many of them are downright illuminating, ahem!

Of de Botton’s mutiplying shelf of philosophically questioning, cleverly revealing treatises, Religion is perhaps not among his strongest – it’s lighter in research and depth than many of his others. His choice to draw on just three religions (“primarily Christianity and to a lesser extent Judaism and Buddhism”) feels a bit as if he’s avoiding that other elephantine monotheistic faith (did I mention fatwa?); his explanation as to why he chose those three among the “world’s twenty-one largest religions” doesn’t quite convince. That said, if you want to tickle and expand your brain, you can never go wrong with de Botton. Trust me; have faith.

Tidbit: Make sure to check out de Botton’s “A Manifesto for Atheists: Ten Virtues for the Modern Age” in full. While you’re waiting for the page to load, here’s an abridged version to get you started …

  1. Resilience. Keeping going even when things are looking dark.
  2. Empathy. The capacity to connect imaginatively with the sufferings and unique experiences of another person.
  3. Patience. We should grow calmer and more forgiving by getting more realistic about how things actually tend to go.
  4. Sacrifice. We won’t ever manage to raise a family, love someone else or save the planet if we don’t keep up with the art of sacrifice.
  5. Politeness. Politeness is very linked to tolerance, the capacity to live alongside people whom one will never agree with, but at the same time, can’t avoid.
  6. Humour. Like anger, humour springs from disappointment, but it’s disappointment optimally channelled.
  7. Self-Awareness. To know oneself is to try not to blame others for one’s troubles and moods; to have a sense of what’s going on inside oneself, and what actually belongs to the world.
  8. Forgiveness. It’s recognising that living with others isn’t possible without excusing errors.
  9. Hope. Pessimism isn’t necessarily deep, nor optimism shallow.
  10. Confidence. Confidence isn’t arrogance, it’s based on a constant awareness of how short life is and how little we ultimately lose from risking everything.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012

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February 25, 2013 · 9:46 am

Every Grain of Rice: Simple Chinese Home Cooking by Fuchsia Dunlop

Every Grain of RiceHow’s this for a fabulous first line? “The Chinese know, perhaps better than anyone else, how to eat.” Think about any little small town in the U.S. alone … no matter where you are, the one type of food you can be guaranteed to find sooner than later, is … Chinese. Really. On these here home shores (and everywhere in between), you’ll find more Chinese restaurants than McDonald’s, Burger King, Wendy’s, Pizza Hut, and Domino’s combined [check out this quick Yahoo! video on the all-American history of Chinese food]. That said, American Chinese food is not exactly authentic … so if you’re looking for some real cuisine, this gorgeous cookbook promises basic, fresh, healthy, delicious, and best of all … simple.

Meet Fuchsia Dunlop, who holds the distinction of being “the first Westerner to train as a chef at the Sichuan Institute of Higher Cuisine in central China.” She speaks fluent Mandarin (which always elevates any outsider’s status), and has spent two decades researching, crafting, creating Chinese culinary delights – she’s got two award-winning cookbooks and a memoir as proof.

Her latest is another feast, done simple: “I’m not talking here about [Chinese] exquisite haute cuisine, or their ancient tradition of gastronomy. I’m talking about the ability of ordinary Chinese home cooks to transform humble and largely vegetarian ingredients into wonderful delicacies, and to eat in a way that not only delights the senses, but also makes sense in terms of health, economy and the environment.” She reminds us (more than a few times, because we need it, ahem), “With all the fuss over the Mediterranean diet, people in the West tend to forget that the Chinese have a system of eating that is equally healthy, balanced, sustainable and pleasing. Perhaps it’s the dominance of Chinese restaurant food – with its emphasis on meat, seafood and deep-frying as a cooking method – that has made us overlook the fact that typical Chinese home cooking is centered on grains and vegetables.”

Instead of picking up the phone for that next delivery or take-out, Dunlop gives you the better, healthier, tastier option of staying in. She shows you how to stock your kitchen with easy essentials (including “magic ingredients”!) – sauces, spices, and equipment. She offers a basic primer on cutting (“the first basic skill of the Chinese kitchen”) and other how-to techniques. She helps you plan your table, from beginning to (healthy) dessert, even providing sample menus for two, four, and six. Then there are the recipes … with truly picture-perfect photography for almost every dish. Just leafing through a few pages will get you salivating. Please, do pass the bib!

Readers: Adult

Published: 2013 (United States)

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February 23, 2013 · 9:44 am

How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff

How I Live NowHow I chose this: It actually had nothing to with that shiny 2005 Michael L. Printz Award sticker on the cover. The narrator, Kim Mai Guest, made me do it! Guest, who is apparently 43 (so says her Wiki bio), has one of those eternal voices, always pitch-perfectly tuned for teenaged characters.

How I think now: What started really, really well, devolved to smack-in-the-forehead, ‘are you kidding me?’ The no-turning-back point came here: ” … partly the idea of wanting to be thin in a world full of people dying from lack of food struck even me as stupid. Well, what do you know? Every war has its silver lining ….” No, really.

How I summarize (in one annoyed sentence – possible spoiler alert): Motherless teenaged New Yorker goes rural, takes up with her younger British cousin, recovers from anorexia only by living through World War III with a 9-year-old (girl) cousin in tow, and after more suffering, sort of lives happily ever after.

How I might expound further: At 15, Daisy is not quite dignified enough to inhabit her given name, Elizabeth. When she’s sent to live with her aunt and four cousins in a remote English village, she’s not too upset to be an ocean away from her distant father, her “Evil Stepmother,” and their “devil’s spawn” about to be birthed back in Manhattan. She’s instantly smitten with her 14-year-old cousin Edmond for whom age has few limits: he smokes, he drives … and he recognizes Daisy as a soulmate for life.

Daisy’s Aunt Penn is her only connection to “a mother I barely ever got a chance to meet,” but before they can spend even a few days together, Aunt Penn is off to Oslo to give a lecture. Being home alone with her cousins, ages 9 to 18, is initially ”happy” … until World War III breaks out. The children are eventually separated, and for the first time in her life, Daisy is forced out of her self-absorption and must figure out how she and her 9-year-old cousin will survive to reunite with whomever might be left of their shrinking family.

How I’m in the minority (in so many ways): Besides the coveted Printz, American-turned-Brit Meg Rosoff’s debut novel also won the 2004 Guardian Children’s Fiction prize, and was shortlisted for the Whitbread (now Costa Book Awards) and Orange (now Women’s Prize for Fiction) prizes, and more.

How I Live Now … continued: For said groupies out there, here’s the IMDB file about the coming film adaptation. While you’re waiting, you might check out this five-part 2007 radio adaptation from the BBC: click here for Episode 1. My own journey ends here with the book, but yours might be just beginning … all in the eyes (and ears) of the beholder.

Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult

Published: 2004

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February 2, 2013 · 2:12 pm

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce

Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold FryAt 65, Harold Fry is a quiet, solitary old man, retired from the brewery where he worked much of his adult life. Although he married Maureen – his one and only love – decades later, their days, weeks, years together are rather lonely and withdrawn. He doesn’t talk to or about their son David. And then “[t]he letter that would change everything arrived on a Tuesday.”

From the other end of the British Isle, Queenie Hennessy is writing to say goodbye … she’s dying of cancer. Harold hasn’t heard from her in 20 years, but their briefly shared past is enough to elicit the strongest emotions he’s had in a very long time. He writes Queenie a quick response – “Dear Queenie, Thank you for your letter. I am very sorry. Yours Best wishes—Harold (Fry)” – and walks down the hill towards the nearest postbox, but keeps walking. And walking … and walking, determined that somehow his walking will keep Queenie alive if he can just deliver himself.

Harold Fry’s “unlikely pilgrimage” will take him 627 miles from Kingsbridge in southwest England to Berwick-upon-Tweed on the Scottish border. What happens during his 87 days on the road is a revelatory, eloquent, transforming experience … and one that needs to be personally discovered for every reader. The less you know, the better your read.

I hit ‘play’ knowing only two things: 1. I recognized the title from countless awards and best-of lists; and 2. the phenomenal Jim Broadbent narrates. The one other pre-reading tidbit I highly recommend (no worries, no spoilers) is debut (!!!) novelist Rachel Joyce‘s essay on “Writing Harold Fry,” about the story’s pre-book incarnation as an award-winning radio play she wrote for her dying father. Her official bio mentions she’s written over 20 “original afternoon plays.” Here’s hoping more of that prodigious output transfers to the printed page (or stuck in my ears!).

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012

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November 25, 2012 · 11:33 am

A Lady Cyclist’s Guide to Kashgar by Suzanne Joinson

If you feel a vague sense of déjà vu reading this novel, that may be because, like me, you’re strongly reminded of another dual-timed story featuring a bold Englishwoman trekking through faraway lands whose expectations-be-damned!-uncommon-life-back-then is pieced together through left-behind words and pictures by a descendant living now. While more than one book might fit that description, the title I’m specifically recalling is Ahdaf Soueif‘s 1999 Booker Prize shortlisted The Map of Love. 

Here, ‘then’ belongs to 1923 and Evangeline English – who could not be more ironically named. Never far from her trusty bicycle, she finds herself traveling to Kashgar, East Turkestan (in today’s western China), where the sight of “a woman riding [said bicycle] is simply unimaginable.” She and her “unadventurous” younger sister Lizzie have escaped the “damp, phlegmatic dreariness of an English winter” to accompany the fiery Millicent Frost (oh these names!), a woman blinded by her missionary zeal, more arrogant bulldog than convincing emissary. Early into their journey, the trio discovers a young local girl, 10 or 11, “with a belly as ripe as a Hami melon.” Millicent delivers a tiny baby right there in the desert, but loses the young mother in childbirth. “[We] find ourselves in a situation,” Evangeline writes on the first page, one that eventually continues into “London, Present Day.”

In central London, peripatetic Frieda (take note of that name, as well) has just returned from her latest “research job”-assignment. In the wee hours of a lonely first night home, she gives up on waiting for her unreliable married lover, and instead finds a strange man sitting just outside her door. Instead of calling for help, she silently passes him a blanket and pillow; in the morning, she finds a drawing of a large bird she doesn’t recognize on the wall next to her door. Later that day, she will open her life to another complete stranger, the late Irene Guy who has inexplicably named Frieda her ‘next-of-kin,’ whose possessions Frieda must be clear out from her in-demand Council flat (subsidized government housing) within the week.

Dislocation, secrets, misconnections, legacies, incompatible pairings … and, mysterious birds (!), all play a part in this multi-pronged, multi-cultured, multi-perspective journey of discovery, even if questions outnumber eventual answers. I should also add that discovery might be best enjoyed unmitigated; narrator Susan Duerden gives Frieda an impossibly young, thoroughly grating persona which surely doesn’t exist on the page.

For would-be writers, Suzanne Joinson explains on her website “About” page how the purchase of “a box of letters from Deptford Market in London” led her to writing a short story about her “quest to find out who [the letters] belonged to.” The story won a prize generous enough to buy a laptop and provide a year’s mentoring which led to writing this debut novel. In both Map and Guide, connecting such mysterious letters are – no surprisingly – integral to the storytelling. Joinson herself adds a useful moral for literary wannabes: “go to flea markets! And car boots … and don’t get me started on the buried stories to be found in second hand and thrift shops.” Bestselling inspiration indeed.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012

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November 5, 2012 · 8:22 am

The Perfect Mile: Three Athletes, One Goal, and Less than Four Minutes to Achieve It by Neal Bascomb

Neal Bascomb is a consummate storyteller: he can unravel a tale with an ending you already know, set it at a heart-thumping pace, and never let you rest until you hit that final page. Unless you’ve been in total seclusion your entire life, you probably know that the four-minute mile barrier was broken quite a few decades ago. [I'll save you a Google search: as of today, the world record of 3:43.13 (OMG!) by Morocco's Hicham El Guerrouj remains unchallenged since 1999.]

Just how that four-minute barrier was finally overcome gets breathtaking (bestselling!) treatment from Bascomb on the page; and in case you were wondering, the stuck-in-the-ears version incites even more excitement as read by Nelson Runger, who adds a welcome, old-time sportscaster enthusiasm to his narration. [One of my biggest gripes with audible books has been the laziness of producers with casting/directing for proper pronunciation. Why is basic respect for the author's words so much to ask for??!! Here's shocking (pathetic that it is so shocking!) news about thisproduction: Both Bascomb and one of the book's major subjects get a shout-out of "grateful acknowledgement" for their help in "researching certain pronunciations in this book"!! Really, how hard was that??!!]

But back to the pursuit of perfection … Mile by mile, race by race, Bascomb follows three young athletes around the world as each devotes himself to be the first to achieve the deemed-impossible sub-4:00 goal: British Roger Bannister, an Oxford-educated medical doctor-in-training; Australian John Landy, a Melbourne University track hero; and American Wes Santee, who had to battle his critical father for the chance to run (and be educated!). Their backgrounds are vastly different, their training plans at times antithetical to proven regimens, their lifestyles bear little resemblance to each other … and yet their shared goal never wavers, and ultimately, one man breaks that elusive tape.

I knew how it would end, and yet I often couldn’t pull the earphones off my head: “shhh, he’s on the fourth lap,” I’d admonish the hubby, or “just a sec, he’s about to break another record,” I’d tell a whining child, or “we’ll talk in a minute, they’re gonna announce the official time,” I’d hang up the cell call as it interrupted my iPod function. With Bascomb’s addictive step-by-step retelling, knowing the ending never diminished the wanting to know happened next.

Confession time: I’m not delusional enough to ever think I’ll ever come close to run the perfect mile, but thanks to someone Bascomb and I know in common, I’m out there running a bunch of my own (albeit much slower!) perfect miles – yesterday morning, the exact time I had visualized actually flashed up on the board as I crossed the finish line of a local race. Not that I’m bragging (well … only a little bit), but my miracle-making coach has managed to make me an ultra-athlete (yeah, me!). So here’s the best sneak-peek news for ultra-wannabes: come next spring, the wisdom of that impossible coaching will be available to anyone and everyone when my ultimate ultracoach’s first book hits shelves next spring. Watch this space for details.

Readers: Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2004

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October 29, 2012 · 4:44 pm

Nocturnes: Five Stories of Music and Nightfall by Kazuo Ishiguro

How wrenchingly ironic that this was the book I happened to be reading when I learned of a sudden death in our family. On the flight, in the car, during the rare moments of aloneness over the last four days, Kazuo Ishiguro’s stories that spoke of lost chances and endings provided an ideal counterpoint – both gentle and piercing – to the maelstrom of required public and private events of mourning.

Nocturnes – Ishiguro’s only short story collection thus far, as well as his latest title – is comprised of five stories in which music plays a principal role. Some are interlinked: two share characters, two share locations. In the opening “Crooner,” a young guitarist is hired by once legendary singer Tony Gardner – who was the guitarist’s mother’s favorite star – to play underneath Gardner’s wife’s open window as Gardner sings her love songs on the final evening of their bittersweet Venetian vacation. Lindy Gardner, that very wife who is now divorced, reappears in the (singular) “Nocturne,” recovering from cosmetic surgery in a posh Los Angeles hotel, sharing musical adventures with a saxophone player whose agent, soon-to-be ex-wife, and her lover convince the gifted musician that his less-than-gorgeous looks are the only obstacle to major success. In the finale, “Cellists,” the story returns to Venice, perhaps to the same transient band in “Crooners,” in which possibly another member – this time a Hungarian cellist – meets another American musician who nurtures and refines his already considerable talents … but to what end?

Of the remaining two pieces not linked to the three above, both feature troubled ménage à trois-of-sorts: “Come Rain or Come Shine” examines a trio-friendship decades after its university beginnings, in which the loner – a jazz purist – visits the couple on the verge of separation; in “Malvern Hills,” a struggling young British musician finds himself unexpectedly, intimately wedged in between a Swiss couple on their countryside holiday.

For Ishiguro devotees, Nocturnes might prove to be lighter fare than his six previous novels (and, yes, I’ve read each with fervent reverence). While each of the brief movements of this quintet are memorably haunting, the short story form just doesn’t allow enough space for the soulful, detailed, exquisite explorations that define Ishiguro’s longer work. That said, for an enhanced experience, I highly recommend the narrated version, made noteworthy with careful phrasing and added accents, especially as voiced by Mark Bramhall who begins and ends the audible collection.

Read (or listen) … the best music will always move you to tears, no?

Readers: Adult

Published: 2009

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October 23, 2012 · 11:01 am

The Case of the Deadly Butter Chicken: A Vish Puri Mystery by Tarquin Hall

Not being much of a mystery aficionado, I admit my grumbling tummy is what initially drew me to this toothsome series. Earlier this year, one of my various listservs announced the July 2012 publication of this very title, and I diligently decided I had better read Vish Puri –”India’s Most Private Investigator” – in short order. In a moment of delicious surprise, the audible route proved even more appetizing as the full series is read by one of my favorite narrators ever, the multi-talented, smooth-talking, man-of-many-perfect accents, British actor Sam Dastor (his single fault might be that he can’t say ‘jalapeno’ correctly, but I’m really not quibbling!).

While The Case of the Missing Servant and The Case of the Man Who Died Laughing were both of the guilt-inducing-for-giggling-and-guffawing-in-the-midst-of-grisly-slashings-and-shootings-variety, Butter Chicken leans toward the more somber, although easy chuckling is sprinkled generously throughout. That said, it just might be the best of the three.

So Vish Puri’s got his hands (and, as usual, his belly) full while managing overlapping cases. While he’s trying to find out who poisoned the talented young cricket player’s dear Papa during a crowded hotel banquet, he also has to figure out who the pernicious mustache thief might be. Since he’s got quite a handlebar of his own, the latter case gives him nightmares … but the former will change his life forever.

From an international betting conspiracy to blood diamonds, from cricket games to imported American cheerleaders, from former generals to Koranic verses, British-born-international-journalist-turned-Delhiite Tarquin Hall manages to weave an unexpected, intriguing journey of self-discovery for his hero as he wends his way through his latest perplexing cases. Hall explores the historical Indian/Pakistani divide through Puri’s own travel to the country he thought he would never enter, where he discovers Mummy-ji had quite a past she has yet to share with him. Meanwhile, recalling what happened more than half a century ago gives Mummy just the right clues to track down a murderer even her talented son won’t be able to identity without her help. Go, Mummy, go!

As much of a page-turner #3 is, it’s also a sobering, intimate examination of inherited bias and divisive history on the South Asian subcontinent. Hall’s outsider perspective surely works to his literary advantage here – although his ancestral-by-cultural-association Angezi don’t exactly fare well. That said, his current immersion in all things Dilli gives each Puri adventure indisputable authenticity, while Sam Dastor’s near-perfect narration makes for quite the aural feast. Guilty pleasures indeed!

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012

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September 18, 2012 · 10:22 am

Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein

Having somehow stumbled randomly on Elizabeth Wein‘s very recent “meta-review” on reviewing (complete with crossed-out phrases about “tasteless morons“), I’ll try to not break her seven “observations” here. Just allow me a moment to digress (and comment): 1. I wasn’t aware of any Verity hype, although surely such a smart, pulse-racing, breath-wringing adventure deserves to be hyped to the heavens; 2. Of course, I finished – then wished for more; 3. I didn’t experience a single microsecond of boredom; 4. I’d be thrilled to pieces to have Wein turn up on this blog (always appreciate author visits), and promise to be on my best behavior if our paths ever cross in livetime; 5. I don’t need to fact-check a single phrase because I completely believed every repetition of “I have told the truth”; 6. I won’t apologize for nothing!; and 7. Since I don’t read reviews, the biggest shocker I can attest to appears on p. 285 (don’t you dare peek ahead!) which made me sputter and wince, then left me bereft.

In Wein’s own words: “There you go, my [own] meta-review.”

Verity is a rarity indeed. Two young women, so different in background (one the English grandchild of Jewish immigrants who’s gifted with machines; the other a royally descended, titled Lady who grew up in a Scottish castle with a posh Swiss education and a term at Oxford), are brought together by war … and become the very best of friends. One is a pilot, the other her passenger. During an unauthorized flight into France, one becomes the prisoner of the Gestapo, the other works desperately to find her. One writes her story, Scheherazade-style, on any paper she’s allowed – from fancy hotel stationery to a Jewish doctor’s prescription sheets to discarded recipe cards to sheet music in which “the flute parts are all blank” – scribbling to save her life. The other hopes to attempt an impossible rescue. Each friend shares half the story; together, they undoubtedly “are a sensational team.”

A word of warning: if, like me, you choose to stick this heartbeat-raising book in your ears, I urgently recommend you also have the on-the-page version readily available. As convincing as the readers Morven Christie and Lucy Gaskell are, the book contains essential textual details that just cannot be translated onto a recording: turn to page 62 to see an example.

While this might be a bit of a spoiler (you’ve been warned!), I must commend Wein’s cleverly ironic choice of certain names: the angel with a Yank accent, the officer whose name echoes a major Berlin thoroughfare on which sits the city’s iconic Brandenberger Gate haunted by eerie photos of Nazi soldiers during the 1933 announcement of Hitler as the new Chancellor, the faraway daughter who shares the name of a tragic heroine whose life was operatically staged by the anti-Semitic, Hitler-endorsed Richard Wagner.

A book with so many layers (did I mention meta?) needs to be read first for the spectacular story that it is, then combed through at least again for the literary accomplishments it achieves. Verity is veritably WOW.

Readers: Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2012

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