An Open Book: Young Love (in Fiction and IRL)

I have always been drawn to novels that tell stories of young love, of childhood crushes that survive the awkward phases of adolescence and morph into beautiful adult relationships.  You know, "coming of age" stories, ones that some might think are better suited to YA readers than adult ones.  Perhaps this is because I myself found the love of my life, my husband of 41 years, in high school. I started dating him in 1973, the summer after our freshman year, when we were both 15.  I LOVE our love story, which includes only growing closer and more sure that we belonged together during the four years we were attending different colleges, separated by about 850 miles.

A  couple of months ago I had a fun conversation with my middle son and his wife about our teenage romance, about how I can remember writing "Laura Pearl" and "Mrs. Laura Pearl" in the margins of my high school notebooks, practicing my signature for the hoped-for future--even though I actually worried that my guy and I had met much too young and therefore would probably never end up married.  I was convinced that he was going to go off to Notre Dame to find a prettier, smarter, more interesting girl and that would be the end of that.  The night before he left for college, I cried my eyes out, sure that the best years of my life were coming to an end at the age of 18.

Never have I been so happy to be wrong about something!

1980

Anyway, give me a novel where the heroine meets her true love when she's very young, and I am almost always hooked.  But such novels in our modern age are often completely ruined by totally inappropriate and unnecessary scenes of physical intimacy that have no business in any story about young (unmarried!) love.  Or even mature married love.  What’s with the voyeurism?!  It’s so hard to find works of fiction that are sweet and romantic without being unrealistically sappy, but are also clean--clean enough for even a teen to read.  I’m always on the lookout for them.

Providentially, my husband and I happened to listen to a podcast about my favorite movie of all time, It's a Wonderful Life, and Donna Reed's daughter was on as a guest.  Reed played the lovable Mary Hatch Bailey, wife of Jimmy Stewart's iconic George, of course; but her daughter also talked about some of the other movies in which her mother had had roles, and she mentioned a 1947 film called Green Dolphin Street.  She explained the plot a bit and then added that it had been a novel first.  Well, I was intrigued and immediately searched for the book online.  Within a few days, a paperback copy had arrived on my doorstep.

Here is the synopsis on the back cover of Green Dolphin Street, written by Elizabeth Goudge and originally published in 1944: 

"When Marianne Le Patourel meets William Ozanne in the 1830's on an island in the English Channel, she sets her heart on him. Her sister Marguerite, however, falls in love with him too.  When his Navy career is cut short, William eventually settles in New Zealand and writes to Mr. Le Patourel to ask for Marguerite's hand in marriage--but in his nervousness he pens the wrong name in his letter.  It is Marianne who arrives aboard the sailing ship Green Dolphin.

And so begins this sweeping novel that takes the characters on dramatic adventures from childhood through old age..."

Oh yeah, I was going to love this book.  I just knew it.  Though fictional, this historical novel is based on fact, on a man who really did write to ask for the hand of the girl he loved and ended up with the wrong sister, but made a good job of his marriage.  Knowing that made the story even more interesting to me.  And the writing is just magnificent.  When I was only about 150 pages into the book, with more than 400 more to go, I starting picking out some of the early passages that I found achingly beautiful, planning that I would do a full review when I was finished. (I guess this would be a good time to warn you that if you're not a big reader and you're not passionate about the written word, you might be bored by the rest of this post!)

When plain and somewhat dour Marianne meets handsome, happy-go-lucky young William for the first time, Goudge writes: "She stood with her back against the door, stiff and ungainly, staring at him with great dark eyes that seemed to devour his face with the intensity of her gaze, and she could not move or speak...her heart did not delay to claim this male creature for her own.  She was in love, in love at sixteen, desperately in love, as Juliet was, and with a boy who for all his height and strength and maturity was only a child of thirteen years.  It was absurd.  But then Marianne was never at any time in the least like other girls."

Who could resist this sweet boy?  “William would always squander himself, giving back easily the affection and liking so easily given to him.  'You're good, William,' she cried impulsively.  And for just one flashing moment, deep in her heart, she acknowledged his superiority...He was untidy, lazy, grubby, ill-brought-up, with a dangerous streak of weakness in him.  But...she would make of him such a man as the world had never seen. And he would love her as she loved him; it was not possible that he should not when she loved him so terribly.  He would die with her name on his lips." 

The way Goudge describes William, a reader can easily understand why the two sisters are smitten with him.  He’s handsome, but there’s more to him than that.  On one hand, he is a rapscallion and a typical teenage boy; but on the other, he is just about the kindest-hearted person in the world: "the bitterness of her tone made William look at her in astonishment.  He did not know what the trouble was, but he gripped her hand hard in sympathy.”  And this: "his instinct told him she was vexed about something and his kindness longed to apply what balm he could."  (Yes, Marianne, was vexed--because she knew that her lovely, joy-filled younger sister Marguerite loved William, too, and would probably win his heart; but she was determined to have him for her own anyway!)

William has a simple, childlike goodness that Marianne is attracted to, though she does not possess it herself; "he wanted...that everyone should be as happy as he was himself.  He flirted, too, with a bland impartiality that was almost godlike.  For he liked women as women, whether they were pretty or plain.  If they were pretty he enjoyed their prettiness, and if they were plain he was sorry for them and flirted with them all the more that they should forget it."

Marguerite's happy demeanor, her pure, almost saintly goodness is a like a mirror image of William's.  These two dear souls seem destined to be together; yet Marianne is determined to do whatever it takes to have William for herself.  In the end, no wiles are necessary, for he mixes up the names of the two sisters who played such huge roles in his youth and because of his tragic blunder, Marianne ends up the winner.  

Now that I've finished the book, I'll try not to give too much away, except to say that this is exactly the kind of story I relish: an epic tale that spans generations and explores the complexities of human relationships, exposing the deepest recesses of the hearts of the characters. Goudge is a gifted wordsmith, and I devoured each page of her beautiful prose greedily, rereading passages just to enjoy the way she puts things.  And the plot has plenty of twists and turns to keep a reader on the edge of her seat.  When I turned the last page, I was sorry to see it end.  What an amazing gift of a story!

Although a terrible mistake leads to the marriage of William and Marianne, when Marguerite is the woman he really wanted, so much good does come out of it: each of these two women is "saved" by the man they both love.  That is quite a Catholic theme: that God can make good come out of bad, that there is forgiveness and redemption possible for even the worst of transgressions.  In the end, that one terrible mistake, that mix-up of names, not only saves the two sisters, but William himself as well. Had the right sister sailed to New Zealand on the Green Dolphin to become his bride, he might never have become the man he was meant to be.   

As I said before, this novel is epic in scope.  It is populated with real and relatable characters, complex people who struggle to overcome their weaknesses.  There are conversions and reversions, and this novel plainly illustrates the power of the Catholic Faith to change lives.  Throughout the story, the message is clear that sacrificial love is the best kind of love--that TRUE love must always "pay the price" (just as Christ paid the ultimate price with his life, out of love for us and for our salvation).  Indeed, when the different characters learn to let go of pride and selfishness and live for the well-being and happiness of others, they grow in holiness and finally experience genuine joy.

Goodness, this is an extraordinary book, so engrossing and so, so moving.  I cannot recommend it highly enough!  I packed it to take along with me to NY this summer so that I can read it again--proof that it has moved onto my list of all-time favorite novels.

In fact, after enjoying Green Dolphin Street so much, I decided to try another novel by Elizabeth Goudge (who is apparently a favorite novelist of many, judging by the Amazon reviews of her books; how am I just finding her now?!).  This one was called The Scent of Water, and oh my, again I was completely blown away--by the beauty of the writing and by the author's keen insights regarding human nature and relationships.  While not a book about young love, it is very much a book about love, in all its forms: married love, parental love, love of God, and His infinite capacity of love for us--even about learning to love oneself.  This amazing book deals with the complexities and frailties of the human condition, with such tenderness and compassion.

Here's a quick synopsis: Mary Lindsay relocates to a small English country village, after she inherits an old house from an elderly deceased cousin whom she met only once, as a child.  Before moving to bucolic Appleshaw, Mary was a busy city-dweller and career woman.  She had been engaged to a man who died in WWII and had never married.  Now 50, she moves into her cousin's house and her whole life changes.  As Mary gets to know all the different inhabitants of this small town, with all their virtues and all their quirks, she sees just about every type of human struggle: physical and mental infirmity, anxiety and depression, sublimely intact and tragically broken marriages, corrupt business dealings, parents grieved by wayward children, and so much more.  But the author does not paint any one of the characters that populate this wonderful story as either pure saint or pure sinner.  Though flawed, they all have qualities to love and admire.  And the town takes care of its own, loyally helping and protecting all who live there, no matter what.  

There are so many beautiful reflections in this book about faith, about loneliness and heartache, about learning the truth about ourselves and the people we thought we knew.  It's just the most wonderful novel, beautifully written, by an author I've come to love so much.  I recommend it highly--especially for fellow introverts who like nothing better than to get lost in a good book. As Goudge puts it so perfectly when Mary is getting tired of dealing with an overly talkative houseguest, "What one wanted when exhausted by the noise and impact of physical bodies was not no people, but disembodied people; all these denizens of beloved books who could be taken to one's heart and put away again, in silence, and with no hurt feelings."  [Sigh.] She gets me!

Elizabeth Goudge's father was an Anglican rector, so I don't believe she was a Catholic; but her works reflect so many themes that are right in line with Catholic teachings.  In The Scent of Water, an old man who suffers from mental illness and therefore knows just what it means to share Our Lord's Cross says to Mary, "My dear, love, your God, is a Trinity.  There are three necessary prayers and they have three words each.  They are these.  'Lord have mercy.  Thee I adore.  Into Thy hands.'"  Powerful stuff!  I'm finding that books by this prolific English author are just plain good for my soul. 

Are you looking for compelling summer reading?  Then my advice to you is to read one of these books (Green Dolphin Street is my favorite).  I don't think you'll be disappointed.  But maybe you need more than just one book to read while you're sitting by the pool or the lake.  If you're looking for more recommendations, check out Carolyn's link-up!

An Open Book: The Lacemaker

Anne Faye's latest book, The Lacemaker (A Novel of St. Zelie Martin) has been on the top of the “to read” pile on my nightstand for a while now.  It's not that I wasn't eager to read it, having enjoyed several of Faye’s earlier novels; it's just that I've been busy enough lately that reading (one of my favorite pastimes ever!) has taken a back seat to other more pressing endeavors.  

But that book, with its appealing cover--featuring a sepia-toned photo of St. Therese of Lisieux's mother, St. Zelie, surrounded by Alcenon lace--has definitely been calling to me.  And once I started reading it a few days ago, I had a hard time putting it down.  Two sittings was all it took to finish it.

Faye has done an outstanding job of making St. Zelie come alive for me, and after devouring this novelized version of her life, I intend to read more biographical works about this extraordinary woman.  She was a saint who was also a wife to a saint and a mother of saints.  And as if those accomplishments weren’t enough for any soul, she was also a successful businesswoman who was a maker of exquisite French lace.

 

Zelie Guerin never thought she would marry and have children; as a young girl, her dream was to enter the convent. But God had other plans for her, which included making lace and meeting Louis Martin, who had also dreamed of a religious vocation but instead would become her partner in marriage, parenthood, and sainthood. Zelie and Louis had nine children in all, four of whom died in infancy or early childhood; the five daughters who survived to adulthood all grew up to become nuns.  One of them, of course, was their youngest, Therese, a well-beloved saint known as  “The Little Flower” (a Doctor of the Church no less).  These are facts that you might already know about St. Zelie, but Anne Faye goes behind the scenes and into the mind and heart of this popular modern saint, making the busy and sometimes complicated family life in the Martin household very real and relatable.

Working mothers of big families will especially relate to Zelie Martin’s struggles to become a saint while dealing with the daily trials and tribulations that come with trying to balance it all, sacrificing sleep and longed-for solitude and personal health to attend to the needs and demands of her business and her home. She suffered unimaginable losses and endured tremendous physical suffering as well, yet through it all her deep Faith sustained her.

Zelie Martin wasn't a perfect person; she was quite human and had many of the same faults we all struggle with.  She often felt overwhelmed with worries about her children, and was always happiest when they were gathered under her roof (which for various reasons, they often weren't).  Her lace business seemed to operate on a feast or famine basis, so if she wasn't complaining about being overworked she was feeling stressed that it would fail.  She got tired of sacrificing sometimes, and Lent could seem very long.  She struggled to understand her most difficult child.  She was not always pleasant and patient and thought most of the people around her were much holier than she was.  But when it came to the heaviest crosses she was given to bear, she carried those with saintly determination.  I know that Faye used actual letters that Zelie Martin wrote to family and friends as a resource, paraphrasing and adding color; so I believe this book is an accurate portrayal of Alencon's famous yet extremely humble maker of lace and saints.

I can so relate to this quote!  Lots of stone-hard
wood to chop here.

I’m so glad I read The Lacemaker, because if there's anything I need more of during these difficult times, it's inspiration for ways to become a saint while living in the world.  What a beautiful example Zelie Martin's life gives for achieving holiness while working both inside and outside the home!  I highly recommend this book.

If you're wondering what you should read next and need some more good book recommendations, head on over to Carolyn's October An Open Book link-up.

An Open Book (Feb. 2021): Two Inspiring Stories of Hope and Resilience

 

How wonderful is this link-up for all of us inveterate bookworms?!  Thank you as always, Carolyn Astfalk, for hosting it.  I'm grateful to have the opportunity to discover titles that I might not have heard of yet, and which have been vetted already by writers and bloggers whose opinions I value so much.  I may not be one of those folks whose opinions are particularly valued...but I'm going to give you my two cents anyway! :)

First up, When We Were Young & Brave, a Novel, another fantastic work of historical fiction by Hazel Gaynor, who is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors of all time.  Her books are meticulously researched and her prose is truly a thing of exquisite beauty.  Sometimes I have to re-read a sentence, just to experience once again the way Gaynor has arranged the words in a manner that utterly sets my soul on fire.  (I am admittedly in love with words, and in awe of those who have the God-given talent to use them so wisely and so well!) 

I was at Walmart shopping recently and did a quick fly-by through the book department--you know, just "to look" (because I can never help myself, it's a problem!)--and this lovely cover jumped out at me for two reasons: by the artwork, I guessed that it was a story set in WWII, and that is always an irresistible draw for me; and it was written by Gaynor, an extraordinarily talented writer of whom I had become a big fan in the past year, after reading some of her other historical novels (The Lighthouse Keeper's Daughter, a Novel and The Girl Who Came Home, a Novel of the Titanic, both of which I've previously shared here at the link-up).  I flipped the paperback open and started to skim the prologue, and I was almost staggered by a few simple words said by one of the main characters, a woman who is reminiscing about her childhood years spent in a Japanese internment camp in China during WWII 30 years ago. Before she and her fellow schoolmates, American and British children of missionaries and diplomats, are forced to leave their comfortable boarding school and endure the horrors of being prisoners in a crowded, filthy camp overseen by often cruel Japanese guards, she says they complained about little discomforts and inconveniences and were "wildly ignorant of our privilege and of how much we were about to lose."  

Those words really struck a chord with me, considering the violent upheavals taking place in our country right now and how very possible it is that we will all be facing unforeseen sufferings and deprivations in the future.  So I bought the book.  And after reading it, I can tell you that the money was well spent.  Now that I'm finished (and still thinking about the characters and all they endured with tremendous fortitude and grace) I plan to share it with my oldest son's wife, a book enthusiast like myself.  And I will no doubt re-read it at some point in the future; it's that good.

The novel is told in first person, alternately from the perspective of young Nancy Plummer, the daughter of Protestant missionaries working in China and a boarding student at the Chefoo Mission School, and Elspeth Kent, the no-nonsense but tender-hearted teacher, mentor, and Girl Guides troop leader who becomes a mother and more to Nancy and the other schoolchildren under her care during a harrowing six-year period following the bombing of Pearl Harbor.  Overnight, the school loses its protected status and its teachers and students become civilian enemies of Japan.

This is an aspect of the Second World War about which I knew nothing prior to reading When We Were Young & Brave--just when I thought I'd read every story, fiction and non-fiction alike, about every possible locale and every possible manner in which seemingly ordinary people showed extraordinary bravery, kindness, and faith during that awful period of history.  Based on the true events surrounding a group of schoolchildren and their teachers who were taken from their Chinese mission school to a Japanese internment camp in China during the war, Gaynor has brought the story alive through a large cast of very believable characters whom you will grow to love and whose triumphs over unimaginable adversity will make you feel like cheering out loud.  In spite of all the tragic and often terrifying circumstances in which the teachers and students of Chefoo School find themselves, they never lose hope and strive every day to make the very best of an impossibly awful situation.  The actions of the teachers, especially, with their determination to keep life as "normal" as possible for their charges, brought tears to my eyes as I read.  They were heroes, in every sense of the word.

This is not a book populated with Catholic characters, but the themes are undoubtedly Catholic.  It's a story about human kindness, perseverance, and hope; it's about overcoming fear and trusting in God's plan for our lives, no matter how desperate our situation seems; it's about having faith in God no matter what happens, turning to Him in prayer, and trusting in His boundless love and mercy. And it shows that even in the midst of the most unthinkably terrible circumstances, the human heart can flourish and love can bloom.  When We Were Young & Brave is a page-turner that will keep the reader on the edge of his or her seat; it's powerful and moving, and jam-packed with inspirational messages.  Just a warning: you might want to have some Kleenex handy when you're reading.  I recommend it highly--five stars!

Sunflower seeds, and the cheerful, resilient sunflowers that grew from them, played an important symbolic role in When We Were Young & Brave.  Thinking about sunflowers reminded me of another novel I read quite a while ago, written by an online author friend I made back during the years when I was more involved in the world of Catholic fiction writing and reviewing.  So I decided that I wanted to re-read this wonderful novel of hers. And that is my brilliant segue (if I do say so myself), leading to my second book recommendation for this month: Sunflowers in a Hurricane, by Anne Faye.  I posted an Amazon review for Sunflowers in a Hurricane, back when it first came out in 2016.  With the novel fresh in my mind again, however, I decided to write a revised edition of that review to share here today.

Sunflowers in a Hurricane, by talented Catholic fiction author and blogger Anne Faye, is a short novel, at about 50,000 words; but it is by no means short on substance.  If you are able to clear your calendar for an afternoon, you could devour it in one sitting--which is exactly what I did!  I dare say you won't be able to put it down once you start it.

As I was reading along, I could clearly picture every scene of this sweet and uplifting novel, and the thought occurred to me more than once that it would make an excellent Hallmark Channel movie.  Faye has woven a compelling tale here, with engaging characters whose flaws and struggles are so painfully real that any reader can relate to them.  She is particularly adept at illustrating the awkwardness of adolescence, and also the agony and thrill of first love, through the voice of 13-year-old Ruth.

The writer's tools of first person narrative and time shifting are deftly employed by Faye in this novel.  Each chapter is told from the perspective of one of the three main characters: mildly rebellious Ruth; her wounded single mother, Cheryl; and George, the kind-hearted elderly neighbor with a tragic past who changes both of their lives in amazing and unexpected ways.  Aside from having alternating narrators, the story bounces back and forth in time from 1935, to 1972, to 1986, and back to 1935 again, which allows the reader to experience all the events that drive the plot right along with the characters who are experiencing them.

In my original Amazon review I called this book "wholesome," and another reviewer said that description was a bit misleading, because the situations in the book (teenage date rape, adoption, death, and alcoholism) are so serious. And that's true; there is indeed a great deal of pain and family brokenness in this novel, and it's definitely not all sunshine and roses.  But the serious topics and situations are handled carefully and compassionately, without any gratuitous descriptions that would keep this from being an excellent book for your teen reader.

Although George is a daily Mass-goer, and he hopes to bring his young friend Ruth (whom he considers the granddaughter he never had) back to the Faith, he is never preachy or pushy.  There are beautiful Catholic messages in Anne's words, but a reader of any faith could enjoy this book.  It touches on the themes of sin and redemption, of human frailty and the need for divine help; and ultimately, through the actions of its well-drawn characters, it shows the true meaning of sacrificial love.  This novel illustrates so beautifully how God can draw straight with crooked lines. It illustrates how just like hardy sunflowers that are still standing after a hurricane, the human heart can survive even the fiercest, most destructive storms and positively flourish.  I highly recommend this book for any reader, YA to adult. 

What an honor it is for me to review the books of my author friends!  "Meeting" Anne (not in person, unfortunately, but through online correspondence) was definitely one of the many unexpected blessings that came my way during the years I was immersed in the world of Catholic writing.  I will always be grateful for the many contacts I made during that period of my life, the many people who have enriched it in countless ways.  And I will always treasure my signed copy of Sunflowers in a Hurricane, a thank you gift from Anne for being a beta-reader for the novel before its publication and giving her my feedback.  

That's it for me.  Hopefully, I'll be back next month, with more good books under my belt to tell you about.  Happy reading!  (Now head on over to Carolyn's for more recommendations.)

An Open Book (Dec. 2020): Two Tales, One Tragic and One Magic

Hello, Open Bookers!  I can't wait to see what you've been reading.

Here's my first recommendation for this month: The Girl Who Came Home, a novel by Hazel Gaynor, a writer of historical fiction who is quickly becoming one of my favorites. (You might remember that I adored Gaynor's The Lighthouse Keeper's Daughter, which I mentioned here at the link-up back in the summer.)

This particular book drew me like a proverbial cat to cat-nip.  I have always been strangely fascinated by stories of the Titanic disaster, a tragedy as epic in proportion as the vessel itself.  But this one has an element that I truly could not resist: it features a group of would-be Irish immigrants traveling to America in steerage on the "unsinkable" giant's maiden voyage--and these fictional characters are based on the true story of 14 delightful young people who came from the same parish in Ireland.  (The Girl Who Came Home is dedicated to the memory of these real life “Addergoole Fourteen.”) How could I not read this book, I ask you?  You know how I love all things Emerald Isle, don't you?

Well, maybe you've never been to this blog before and you don't.  So before I go on telling you about the page-turner of a NYT bestseller I just read, here's a quick (and shameless!) plug for my own 2014 YA novel about some plucky Irish Catholic immigrants in 19th-century New England, Erin's Ring (a recipient of two Catholic Press Association awards that has most definitely not been a bestseller, but I think is worth a read nonetheless).

Okay, now let's get back to The Girl Who Came Home. In Gaynor's deft hands, the tale of these ill-fated 14 Irish souls from the fictional town of Ballysheen comes vibrantly alive for the reader.  I was sucked in right from the start, and also utterly thrilled that the Catholic Faith and practice thereof is mentioned frequently, without any preachiness (or any derision, which is unfortunately the way of most modern fiction, I find).

Being Catholic is a normal and vital part of these Irish characters’ lives, and it is treated as such. Seamus, the boy Maggie Murphy loves, gives her a silver hairbrush and some Rosary beads as parting gifts before she sails away from him, possibly forever. The last thing Maggie, her Aunt Kathleen, and the other dozen Titanic-bound travelers do before they leave Ballysheen to set out on their big adventure is to attend Sunday Mass at their parish church. Afterwards, the priest blesses their horse- and donkey-drawn carriages--bound for a train that will take them to Queenstown in County Cork, where they will board the ship--with holy water, and he says a prayer for protection. When the Ballysheen 14 get to Queenstown, they are pleased to find out that there is a cathedral not far from the Rooming House where they are staying for the night, and so they will be able to attend Mass in the morning before boarding Titanic.  I found these references to the deep faith of the characters so beautiful, and especially poignant knowing the horrors they were about to encounter at sea.  There are so many references to prayers offered during the voyage across the Atlantic, Rosaries said, and blessings bestowed by priests (and after the ship strikes the iceberg, many terrified passengers, understandably, turn to prayer).  The Ballysheen 14 even attend Mass on the ship.  Yet I believe that a reader of any faith could read this story and not feel uncomfortable or offended by these religious references, because historically, they are undoubtedly accurate.   

The story does go back and forth in time (a literary device that I particularly enjoy, if it is done well--and it is done to perfection here).  Readers are taken from those fateful days aboard Titanic in1912 to suburban Chicago in1982, where we meet Maggie's great-granddaughter, Grace.  Grace has decided to take a break from college, where she has been studying journalism, to help her mother cope with her father’s sudden and unexpected death. Before leaving school, Grace is offered the opportunity to write a feature article for the Chicago Tribune, but she can't decide what to write about. She's not sure the offer will even stand, if and when she ever goes back to finish her degree--but then fate steps in.  Maggie has never told her Titanic story to anyone, but after 70 years, she finally decides to tell it to Grace, giving her granddaughter the feature story of a lifetime to write about.

Grace’s published feature in the paper leads to the recovery of 14 long-lost letters from Seamus, the sweetheart Maggie left behind in Ireland when she sailed away on Titanic--the boy she never forgot and still loves.  It also puts Maggie in contact with the one other survivor from their Ballysheen group, after many years without contact.  Oh my goodness, dear readers!  It’s all so touching and romantic!

This is a thoroughly engrossing story, beautifully written, with such a poignant and satisfying conclusion.  And no way will I give even a hint of how it urned out!  Read this book yourself; it's a "must read" if I ever read one. The characters live and breathe and make you care about them deeply.  And feel free to share it with your favorite young adult reader, because there are none of those pesky scenes of physical intimacy to worry about.  The faith, perseverance, and sacrificial love displayed by the characters is truly inspiring. Is five stars the most you can give?  Okay then, five stars.  And two enthusiastic thumbs up.

My next recommendation is a different animal altogether, a sweet and thoroughly enchanting fairy tale of a novel called Comfort and Joy, by bestselling historical fiction author Kristin Hannah.

I picked up a paperback copy of this relatively short book on the spur of the moment, while on a Sam's run with my husband.  I noticed the Christmas-themed cover (who can resist a Christmas story?) and saw that it was written by the popular author of a couple of my all-time favorite works of historical fiction, The Nightengale and Winter Garden (I figured it had to be a good one if Hannah wrote it).

This is not historical fiction, but I struggle to categorize its genre.  The subtitle is a fable, and that describes the book pretty well.  It's not romance, although it is an extremely romantic story (it will make you fall in love with love); and it's not fantasy, although it does require the reader to suspend disbelief and go on a fantastical trip to an alternate world that could be a dream but might be reality.  (I know!  It sounds a little crazy--but it's crazy good, I assure you!)

I was touched to find that there are several references to attending Mass, saying prayers, and lighting candles for loved ones at church.  The story revolves around characters who are suffering unimaginable losses, who have gone through life-changing recent tragedies.  For Catholics, turning to God at such times is as natural as breathing, yet I don't often find positive references to religion and prayer in modern works of fiction in our secularized world, where God seems to be all but forgotten...but like a breath of literary fresh air, Hannah includes them in this tender, lovely, and strangely believable fable.   

As if this book wouldn't have been good enough already (I couldn't put it down and read it in two sittings), it's also got an added feature that makes it irresistible to me: an Irish character!  In the middle of the lush forests of the Pacific Northwest, Hannah's main character, Joy, meets Daniel, a handsome, dark-haired Irishman with a sad past and a hint of a brogue.  Is he real, though, or just a dream?  

Oh my goodness--read this book, I guarantee you won't be disappointed.  It will make you believe in love, in miracles, in the magic of Christmas.  And what a perfect time of year to read it!

That's it for me (but head on over to Carolyn's blog for more "must reads").  I'll be back here at the blog soon, I hope, or in what I hope will be a much brighter New Year.

An Open Book (Nov. 2020): Just a Few Quick Recommendations

I have recently read some novels that I would like to heartily recommend, but I don’t seem to have the time to write a decent review for each of them right now. Let’s chalk that up to the birth of a 17th grandchild in late October, a big family birthday party for a one-year-old granddaughter not long afterward, a big family get-together at Papa and Grammy’s house on Halloween followed by Trick-or-Treating—13 little cousins all together!—in our neighborhood afterwards, and well...the ELECTION and its aftermath.  (Note to self: don’t overuse the adjective “big”... although that’s getting harder and harder to do when describing events attended by our ever-growing family.)

So...I think for the An Open Book link-up this month, I'll just post a some lovely pictures of the covers of these books, and hopefully they will speak the 1,000 words that I don't have the time or energy to write at this time.  (But I'll try to at least write a few words.)

First up, The Night Portrait by Laura Morelli, a well-researched historical novel set in Germany during WWII (if you know me at all, are you surprised?).

This story goes back and forth in time, from Milan in 1492 to Germany in the 1940's.  A young German art conservator  named Edith Becker has been commandeered by high-ranking Nazis to catalog priceless works of art that they've stolen from all over Europe, but at the same time, she is smuggling information about these stolen treasures to the Resistance.  If you are at all familiar with the Monuments Men (did you see the movie?  It was wonderful!), you will eat this book up--because Edith ends up meeting them and helping them in their efforts to save these priceless works and get them back to their rightful owners (often Jews who have been sent to the camps and had their homes ransacked).  One of the paintings that Edith is particularly fond of is Da Vinci's Lady with an Ermine.  When the novel goes back in time to the 15th century, we get to meet the young girl who was the model for this painting and we learn some fascinating history about Italy in Da Vinci's day.  

This is a well-written book—informative and thoroughly engrossing.  The characters are real and likable.  As a Catholic, I enjoyed the descriptions of the great masterpieces that many brave people worked tirelessly to find and save.  So many of these works depicted sacred religious images such as the Madonna and Child surrounded by saints, or were paintings and sculptures that had graced the altars of spectacular Catholic churches.  If you are a sucker for good fiction, beautiful art, and history in general  (WWII history in particular!), I guarantee you'll love this book.  Five stars.

Second up: another WWII-era historical fiction winner, The Secret Messenger, by Mandy Robotham.  

I think the reason I gravitate towards WWII-era fiction is that it tells the most unbelievable stories about seemingly average individuals who exhibited heroic courage, risking their lives and against all odds finding ways to thwart the enemy.  And these stories are based on actual people and true events, which makes them even more moving and inspiring.

This one is set in Venice, which apparently was spared much of the devastation of the Allied bombings, but whose citizens nonetheless suffered greatly under Mussolini's Fascist oppression and then the Nazi occupation.  Young Venetian Stella Jilani is given a job as a typist at the Reich headquarters, because of her knowledge of the German language.  While working right under the nose of the most powerful Nazi in the city, she finds ways to sneak information gleaned at the office out to the Resistance.  She is one of the women known at the time as "Staffettas," secret messengers who played an integral part in the war effort.  Stella also writes for an underground Resistance newspaper--a crime that would be punishable by death if she gets caught.  

The Secret messenger goes back and forth in time, from WWII Venice to 21st century London, where Stella's granddaughter Luisa stumbles upon a trove of vintage treasures in her late mother’s attic—including an antique typewriter with a slightly damaged E key and a never-before-seen box of old photos and letters. (Who doesn’t love an attic filled with family history?!)    These clues to her grandmother’s mysterious past inspire Luisa to go on a journey to uncover her family’s secrets.    .  

This book has it all!  There's a satisfying love story.  There are twists and turns and edge-of-your-seat moments of near-discovery that could end in imprisonment or death for those who dare to resist the occupiers.  And that typewriter, with a tell-tale dropped E key, is the very thing that might spell disaster for Stella, because if the Nazis find its owner, they find the culprit who has been writing the forbidden stories that are giving the Venetians hope but filling their enemies with rage.  This is a riveting tale, one based on extraordinary women such as Stella who really did play a huge part in the Allied victory.  Highly recommend.  Five stars.

Up third, a suspense-filled whodunit by popular murder mystery writer Lisa Scottoline, titled Don't Go.  

I know what you must be thinking: what, not historical fiction?  Not WWII-themed?   Crazy, right?  This novel is set partly in a war zone, but in the recent Middle East conflict.   (See, sometimes I actually do go outside my normal comfort zone and try new things!)

Mike Scanlon, an orthopedic surgeon, is called to serve as an Army doctor in Afghanistan, leaving his wife Chloe and their infant daughter behind stateside. While deployed, Mike receives the devastating news that Chloe has died in what appears to be an unfortunate household accident. When he comes home to bury her, however, he discovers that she had some dark secrets.  While he’s been away, she has had an affair.  And it becomes more and more apparent, as he does his own investigative work, that her death might not have been accidental after all.

I found this book compulsively readable, and it kept me guessing until the end.  On the back cover, it is described as “gripping, thrilling, and profoundly emotional,” and I would agree with those adjectives.  The murder mystery is not my favorite book genre, but I would still give Don’t Go four stars. It would be an ideal choice to take along on a long flight or a beach vacation.

I've just started an historical novel called The Girl Who Came Home, by Hazel Gaynor, about a group of Irish people traveling to America on the Titanic, and it looks like it's going to be a winner.  (I've always been drawn to stories about the Titanic, whether non-fiction or fiction based on real life.)  But I'll have to tell you about that one next month!  If you're looking for more suggestions to put on your "must read" list, head on over to the November link-up to see what Carolyn et. al. are reading.

An Open Book: Come Back to Me (& Ornamental Graces)

I've been somewhat down lately, worrying almost to the point of despair about the dark state of our world: about all the hate and violence; about the bitter divisions; about the intolerance for any belief that is not held by one and all (especially by those folks who tend to be anti-religion in general and anti-authentic Catholic in particular); about the endless "social distancing" (which I've come to think of a tragic loss of normal human interactions and which seems to be producing in many an actual FEAR of being near others); about the masks, which hide the wide range of expressions that normally play across the faces of people who have been created in the image and likeness of God, and which appear to be required for the foreseeable future (if this is our "new normal," no thank you!); about the all-too-real fear that, depending on how the election goes, the freedom to practice our essential Catholic Faith could be taken away from us and that we might, for the first time in the history of this great country, have to literally go underground and/or face true martyrdom...

But just when I think I can't bear it all anymore, I stop looking at news stories, pick up a good novel, and escape into another world (which, albeit fictional, is at least the pre-Covid world that I took for granted when I had it and now miss with every fiber of my being!).

So let's talk about books, shall we?  I'm joining the An Open Book link-up party, hosted by writer Carolyn Astfalk, and as a matter of fact the book I'd like to highlight today is a novel by Carolyn titled Come Back to Me.  

I was thrilled to win a paperback copy of this engaging and thought-provoking work of fiction from the author via an Instagram giveaway.  It is a well-written sequel to her 2015 debut novel  Stay with Me,  a pro-chastity love story which I read a few years ago and enjoyed very much, and I devoured her latest work of fiction in a few sittings.

I have been having an enormous amount of trouble carving out time to blog lately, so I'm going to keep this review brief.  Here is the synopsis on the back cover:

 

"Alan Reynolds slid into marriage.

When his wife kicks him out, it looks as if he may slide out just as easily. Forced to bunk with his newlywed younger brother and his pregnant wife, Alan gets a firsthand look at a blissfully happy marriage while his wife rebuffs his attempts at a reunion. 

Caught in the middle, Alan and his wife's mutual friend Megan grows increasingly unhappy with her own empty relationships.  If that weren't enough, her newly sober brother has found happiness with Jesus, a goody-goody girlfriend, and a cockeyed cat.

When Alan and Megan hit rock bottom, will there be grace enough in their bankrupt lives to right their relationships and find purpose like their siblings have?"

Although Come Back to Me is a sequel (Stay with Me tells the story of Chris and Rebecca's courtship), it is a stand-alone book.  The characters are fully fleshed-out and believable, even the secondary ones, and you will definitely find yourself rooting for them to each find their happy ending.  

This is a story about the ways that human beings, who are all fragile, flawed, and broken in some way, can wound each other deeply, but also about their boundless power, with the help of God's grace, to forgive completely.  Indeed, life isn't perfect, people aren't perfect, and every marriage--even the best of them--has its inevitable ups and downs.  Alan and Jamie hit a low point in theirs when they realize that they aren't on the same page about starting a family, and that perhaps they entered into married life too hastily, without truly contemplating the sacramental nature of their vows.  Jamie kicks Alan out in anger, and he goes to live with his brother Chris and his wife Rebecca, a besotted newlywed couple expecting their first baby.  As if it isn't bad enough to be going through what appears to be the dissolution of his own marriage, Alan has to endure daily reminders, by the lovebirds whose privacy he's invaded, about what a ridiculously happy marriage looks like.  I won't give any details about how it all turns out, because I think you should read this book!  But suffice it to say that Come Back to Me drives home the message that love is more than just a feeling, it's a CHOICE--sometimes a really hard one to make.  But when a couple puts God first in their relationship, they can weather all storms.  With God's grace, those promises made in their wedding vows--"for better or for worse"--are much easier to keep.

With the holidays fast approaching, I also want to give a shout-out to another sweet novel by Astfalk, Ornamental Graces.  I read it last year and thoroughly enjoyed it, and I think you will, too!

 

Here's a snippet from my review of this novel, which appeared here at the blog in April 2019:

When I looked at the appealing poinsettia-red cover of Ornamental Graces, which is graced with a Christmas tree ornament, an evergreen branch, and a love-struck couple embracing in the snow, I couldn't help but think that this book would be akin to a sweet and simple Hallmark Christmas movie (you know, a holiday love story with a predictable but satisfying happy ending), but told from a Catholic perspective.  I couldn't have been more wrong.  Astfalk's novel is so much deeper than a Hallmark movie; it tackles some of the most difficult subjects--human frailty, sin (sins against chastity in particular), faith, and redemption--while telling the story of Dan Malone and Emily Kowalski, two twenty-somethings who fall in love but spend most of the novel at cross purposes.  At times, I was reminded of Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara in Gone with the Wind (one of my all-time favorite books), who never seem to be on the same page, even though it is plainly obvious to the reader that they are meant to be together.  Every time Dan and Emily grow closer, something--usually a hidden truth about Dan's checkered past, but sometimes a simple misunderstanding caused by poor communication--tears them apart again.  I wanted to strangle one or both of them a few times!  But those two crazy kids kept me turning the pages--just like Rhett and Scarlett did!

(If you'd like to read the full review of Ornamental Graces, here's a link to that blog post.)

One last note before I sign off:  I often worry about all the negative effects of spending too much time online.  But one of the great unexpected blessings of my years of blogging/writing/posting and scrolling at IG is my online friendship with other Catholic fiction authors--like Carolyn Astfalk, a writer whom I admire immensely for using her God-given talents so well to give glory back to Him.  When my IG giveaway prize arrived in the mail, here's how it was inscribed:

I can't tell you how tickled I am to be considered a great friend of Catholic fiction, a medium that I believe can be a powerful evangelization tool.  Thank you, Carolyn Astfalk, for this lovely compliment.  :)

Now head on over to the link-up, readers, for more book recs.  Because losing yourself in a good book can help you to forget the world's cares--at least for a little while...and perhaps that's good for your soul.

An Open Book: Beach Reads for August 2020

It's been ages since I linked up here with Carolyn et. al. for An Open Book.  But I've been doing a good bit of reading lately, so I thought I'd chime in.

Beach reads are always fun, and I'm spending the summer on the shore of Lake Champlain with my hubby, so you could say that all the books I read these days could fit into that category--even the ones that are more literary than the usual pop fiction "chick lit" that you think of when you hear that term.  I've read some good ones and some not-so-good ones.

First, one of the not-so-good.

I thought I would absolutely adore a novel with that title (after all, that's the name I gave to the title character of my own humble first novel); but I did NOT!  (I actually blogged about my disappointment in this book in this previous blog post, which you can read if you're interested.)  It was going to be just my cup of tea, I thought, as I began reading The Grace Kelly Dress: a multi-generational tale involving a wedding dress copied from the iconic gown worn by Grace Kelly when she married Prince Rainier.  But alas, I found it somewhat underwhelming.  I had trouble caring much about the characters, and when that happens, a book loses me.  It doesn't matter if the setting is spectacular and the plot intriguing; I need a character-driven story, and if I can't connect with the main players, I lose interest.  So I give this one 3 stars at most.

This next one, on the other hand, was a 5-star winner in my book (if you'll pardon the pun).

I had high hopes that The Yellow House would be just my cup of tea as well, and this time I was right: it WAS!  This absolutely beautifully written book (from page one, I was enthralled with the achingly lovely prose) is set in Ireland during "the Troubles," with a large cast of fleshed-out, engaging, believable characters.  There is a great love story included (always a key element in any novel I read), but thankfully, very little in the way of blush-worthy scenes of intimacy. There are plot twists that will shock you and keep you turning the pages.  And the Irish setting--'tis a complete delight for a Hibernophile like meself.  Many of the characters that populate this gem are practicing Catholics, and it was refreshing to have this be central to the book without being used to trash the Faith (as many modern secular works are apt to do).  Going to Mass is mentioned in passing, as if it's just the thing you do, of course; and that was a balm to this reader's soul.  I can give this book my highest form of praise by saying that I will most definitely be re-reading it sometime in the future.  It's that good--IMHO, as they say.

This next one was also simply wonderful. (Sorry, I forgot to take a picture of my copy with the lake in the background!)

The Winemaker's Wife is another book that I will probably re-read at some point.  It's a WWII historical novel (and if you've come to this blog before, you know that I can almost never resist a good WWII novel), set in the Champagne region of France during the German occupation.  The story weaves a number of well-drawn characters' lives together.  There are Jews who live in constant fear of deportation and death; there are brave French Resistance heroes and despicable Nazi villains; and there are both witting and unwitting Nazi collaborators.  And throughout, there is the making of wine--which, if you know nothing about that (which I didn't) is very interesting in and of itself.  Again, there are touching love stories involved.  And Harmel exposes how wartime brings out the very best and the very worst in human beings, with life-altering--often heartbreaking
--consequences.  But ultimately, this is a story of courage and hope.  I highly recommend this one. (In fact, I liked it so much that I've just gotten another novel by this author called The Room on Rue Amelie, set in WWII Paris.)

I am so in awe of the way some of these authors write!  What a gift it is to have the ability to use language so beautifully while at the same time crafting a complicated and meaningful story that stays with readers long after they've finished the last chapter.

The last one I want to mention would earn more than 5 stars, if that was allowed.  It's non-fiction (yes, I read that, too, sometimes).

You guys.  Humility Rules.  This one is so amazing.  I have devoured it in two sittings, and though it's a very quick read, it is anything but lightweight.  There is so much wisdom packed into this slim volume.  I think it's going to become part of my daily inspirational reading.  It outlines St. Benedict's Rules--in modern language that anyone can understand, with down-to-earth anecdotes and plenty of humor.  Even the illustrations are comical, yet they illustrate profound truths that followed faithfully can lead even the most humble sinner to sainthood.  I have been guilty of sometimes having feelings of worthlessness, of being far too self-deprecating; but that is not true humility, and it is not holy.  As J. Augustine Wetta writes, "Genuine self-esteem is a form of holiness, and holiness, in St. Benedict's eyes, is not about self-love but self-abandonment...To discover God's power in our lives, we need to climb the Ladder of Humility."  He goes on to describe and explain the 12 rungs of this ladder and how climbing it can lead to sainthood.  Incidentally, I became aware of this book via an Instagram post by one of the Catholic influencers I follow there...which makes me realize that all social media is not bad.  I need to curb my desire to scroll endlessly and waste too much time staring at my iPhone screen; but sometimes, I do come across information that could change my life for the better.  This book is proof of that.

My husband and I are spending the summer at his childhood home in Upstate NY--by the lake, as I already mentioned--tending to our Oyster Haven VRBO rental property just down the road.  We have framed pictures of the covers of my two novels hanging in that house.  I have been historically terrible at promoting and marketing my own works, and they had a relatively short run before they went out of print; but I thought advertising them at our rental might be a way to keep them alive.  Recently, my husband got this text from a guest, after he had spent a week at Oyster Haven with his wife and their grown kids and spouses (and also their toddler grandchild):

Well, you never know...He was probably just trying to be kind.  But I do hope that there will still be readers for these books.  In that vein, I published a post at my other blog (a blog that I set up to dedicate specifically to the topic of writing) today as well, if you want to pop on over.  It's "book club" day there (here, too, I guess!).

Enjoy the beach!  Enjoy books!  Or best of all, enjoy them together!  And don't forget to check out Carolyn's link-up for more book recommendations.