Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Seven: The Library of the Undead & Our Lady of Mysterious Ailments

The Library of the Undead by T.L Huchu has been lurking on my to-read list for a while, and a friend's recommendation of it combined with the sequel's availability at my library to impel me to push this surprisingly hopeful urban fantasy/dystopian future mashup to the top of the list.  Really, my only complaint about it is the protagonist's occasional bad grammar, which always annoys me in writing (or in speaking), but everything else about the book was so compelling that I didn't let that stop me.  The main character, Ropa, is a young-ish teenager, though the books are marketed and published as adult fiction.  (I could see teens also enjoying these books, though, and in fact the first title won an Alex Award for adult fiction that appeals to teens this year.)  

Anyway, Ropa lives in Edinburgh, Scotland, some years in the future from the present (hard to say how many, probably not more than 50).  Things are a bit dystopian, but that's not at all the focus of the story--though it makes for a fascinating setting that does have some impact on the plot, but not in the usual dystopian way of being a challenge that must be overcome to return to a golden age, which I really appreciated.  The most interesting thing about Ropa is that she can talk to ghosts--and that this is a licensed profession in Edinburgh, along with other types of magic.  When Ropa keeps meeting a ghost who desperately needs her help (though she can't afford to pay Ropa's fee) and Ropa's best friend gets a new job at a mysterious library, Ropa becomes involved in a whole new world of magic.

I won't write anything more to avoid spoilers, and I'll only say that I enjoyed the sequel, Our Lady of Mysterious Ailments, very much.  If you read fantasy or mystery and want something a bit off the beaten path, these books are well worth looking at.

Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Six: A Sailor, a Chicken, an Incredible Voyage

While I'll be the first to admit that the writing in this true-life adventure is not the most literary or distinguished, A Sailor, a Chicken, an Incredible Voyage: The Seafaring Adventures of Guirec and Monique by Guirec Soudée is so much fun to read.  I'd already read (and thoroughly enjoyed) the picture book version of this adventure, The Hen Who Sailed Around the World (by the same author), so I was excited when the book for adults was translated into English.  (I could have read it in the original French (there's that college degree coming in handy), but it would have been a bit tricky to get my hands on a copy of the French edition here and I didn't want to trouble my friend in France to find and ship me a copy.)

Anyway, this book delivers exactly what you'd expect from the title: a personal narrative of the author's adventures.  He set off from Brittany at age 22 to sail solo across the Atlantic--he picked up Monique, the little red hen, by a happy chance in the Canary Islands--and ended up making his way up to Greenland, where he overwintered on the ice, through the Northwest Passage to Alaska, all the way down the coast of the Americas around Cape Horn near Antarctica, and over to the Cape of Good Hope on the southern tip of Africa before zigzagging his way from there across the Atlantic a couple more times to get back to France.  

It was a trip that was harrowing at times but full of beautiful landscapes and fascinating characters in different ports of call; however, it is the presence of the hen moved me to read this book.  What can I say?  I love my hens.  Having read the book, I still can't imagine my own hens enjoying a boat trip, though Monique seemed to thrive aboard ship and was happy and healthy enough to lay eggs for the author to eat.  In my view, the book is worth reading for the photos alone (where else will you see a chicken enjoying the Arctic ice?), though I got pretty quickly swept up in the story itself, curious to see how the author would deal with the many challenges he encountered in his long voyage.  If you're interested in sailing, or chicken stories, or memoirs, A Sailor, a Chicken, an Incredible Voyage is worth reading.

Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Five: Provenance

I finally treated myself to Ann Leckie's novel Provenance, which is set in the same universe as her Ancillary Justice trilogy, which I'm realizing now that I neglected to write about here when I read them a few years ago.  Luckily for you, my dear readers, I want to re-read them now that I've read Provenance, so expect a post the next time around, for sure.  (I'm also realizing I didn't post about Leckie's standalone novel, The Raven Tower, which I finally listened to this fall and which was amazing.)  Anyway, you certainly don't need to have read any of her Ancillary novels to enjoy Provenance, as the setting is almost the only common element; the main characters are all new to this story.  It's a delightful cross between a caper and a space opera, with a bit of political intrigue for good measure.  

One element I've appreciated about all of Leckie's novels is that she doesn't pander to readers or get bogged down in explanations--so prepare to be confused when you start reading!  Leckie is a master of taking our assumptions, particularly about gender, and playing with them.  To me, this keeps things interesting and makes me curious enough that I'm willing to sit with the confusion--especially since, after reading her first book, I learned that she will reveal all the necessary information in due course, while weaving an intricate, character-driven tale that will leave you thinking about it after you've read the final page.

Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Four: The Plant Hunter

Hands down, one of the most enjoyable audiobooks I've listened to lately was The Plant Hunter by Dr. Cassandra Leah Quave.  It's a memoir of her life so far, from a childhood of science fairs and surgeries (due to a below the knee amputation when she was three) to an adult life as a world-traveling ethnobotanist, PhD, wife, and mother.  All of it is fascinating and makes me want to drop everything and pursue ethnobotany, until I remember that unlike Dr. Quave, I am not suited to a life of rugged fieldwork in tropical and subtropical climates.  (For those of you wondering, her fieldwork involves interviewing locals who use native plants for medicinal purposes, then finding the plants, collecting samples, and studying how they might be applied in commercial pharmaceuticals.)  I appreciate how this memoir blends the author's personal and professional lives, showing how elements of each make the other possible.  It's an up-close view of a remarkable life, and I highly recommend it to listeners and readers who enjoy memoirs and science writing, obviously, but also those who enjoy character-driven fiction.

Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Three: The Inheritance of Orquídea Divina

Before I get into the book review, apologies for my extended absence from this blog!  October is a very busy month in our extended family (FOUR birthdays, plus our anniversary), and somehow once Halloween is past, Thanksgiving and Christmas seem to be upon us in rapid succession.  But now that the rush is (mostly) past, I'm determined to get back to more regular posts in the new year (and the rest of this one).  So I'll start with a book I read right around Thanksgiving.

The Inheritance of Orquídea Divina by Zoraida Cordova is an enchanting work of magical realism that will appeal to fans of Alice Hoffman's Practical Magic and Erin Morgenstern's The Night Circus.  The story begins when Orquídea, as an old woman, summons her many descendants back to the family home for one last visit before the moment she knows she will die.  When they arrive, they find that her death is not exactly to be a natural one: she is being slowly turned into an enormous tree.  There are clues that this transformation is due, in part, to some heretofore unmentioned enemy, and Orquídea's granddaughter Marimar, as well as two of her cousins and one of their children, whom Orquídea blesses by bestowing living flowers onto their bodies, are determined to seek out answers.  The story follows two timelines from there: Orquídea's past and her grandchildren's present.  Orquídea lived a rough childhood, and this is as much family saga as fantasy quest.  For a story based so much on people, the characters sometimes felt a little distant to me, but the plot was interesting enough to keep me eagerly reading, and I enjoyed how the pieces of the puzzle came together in the end.

Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Two: The Book of Eels

I heard about The Book of Eels: Our Enduring Fascination with the Most Mysterious Creature in the Natural World by Patrik Svensson from a patron at the library, and the title alone was enough to pique my interest.  Finally, at a loose end for an audiobook recently, I found that I'd made a note of this title and it was available to borrow, so I went for it.  I enjoyed some parts immensely, while others were distinctly off-putting.  Mostly the off-putting parts involved detailed descriptions of ways to kill an eel (luckily a minor part of the book) and occasionally ways they would ensnare themselves in fishing lines (also mercifully a small portion of the tale, though there is much eel fishing).  Possibly I was also a little discomfited because I could picture the movement of eels fairly well thanks to this weird article from the New York Times about moray eels (worth looking at for the captions to the photos, if nothing else).

The most wonderful parts reminded me of H Is for Hawk by  Helen Macdonald, which I enjoyed thoroughly about five years ago; that is to say, sometimes The Book of Eels offered a marvelous combination of fascinating facts about eels with moving nature descriptions and deeply-felt personal history, mostly of the author as a child with his father.  Eels are enigmatic creatures, unwilling to yield their secrets to researchers, despite their ongoing efforts, which adds to their allure.  The Book of Eels offers a brief glimpse into their world.

Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-One: How To Prepare for Climate Change

I listened to the audiobook of David Pogue's surprisingly funny manual, How To Prepare for Climate Change after hearing that he'll be the keynote speaker for the Massachusetts Library System's climate prep week events later this month.  I had cataloged the print book a little while back and was both intrigued (because it seems like it will be relevant) and put off.  (Shouldn't we be busy trying to slow climate change rather than preparing for its effects?  In fact, Pogue says, we should all do both, but this book is more about preparing.)  

While a few parts were downright frightening to consider, it actually didn't leave me feeling worse than I generally do about the future of the world (an admittedly low bar, but still), and some parts even made me feel mildly hopeful.  In fact, one of the later chapters in the book is about the importance of maintaining some level of hope in the future, otherwise depression is likely, and depression is the enemy of accomplishing most things, like mitigating one's own environmental impact as well as preparing for the effects of climate change that are, at this point, inevitable.  (Really, it's a funny book at times, or at least the audiobook has its moments of humor, albeit often slightly dark humor.)

Whether or not you want to read this book, I can guarantee some parts of it will be relevant to you, if not now, then soon.  That being said, most of the content won't be directly relevant to most readers (Who lives in an area prone to both wildfires and hurricanes, for example?  Is there such a place?), so this is a title that, unless you've got a deep interest in the subject, I'd suggest getting in print form (not e-book or audio) so you can skim through to the parts that are relevant.  Maybe you're interested in investing your money in climate-responsible ways--check out just that chapter!  Or maybe you don't have any investments but want to know how to prepare your home for flooding.  (Did you know home insurance almost never includes flood damage?  Pogue has a chapter on insurance, too.)  All of this is to say, I think everyone will benefit in some way from reading at least parts of How To Prepare for Climate Change, and this guide makes a huge and scary topic more accessible and manageable.