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Dang! (I'm being folksy 'cause we all know folksy is where it's at these days.) (Now I'm trying out a technique Joyce Carol Oates uses frequently in My Sister, My Love, specifically parenthetical phrase after parenthetical phrase after etc.) (I found it quite annoying to read.) (Surprise. Not! It's just annoying to write.)

Anyway, you've probably figured out the book in question in Oates's latest, My Sister, My Love. General impressions:

1) It's too long, WAY TOO LONG, clocking in at 562 pages. And, to add insult to injury, pages 429 through 479 are a YA novella about one character's adventures in boarding schools for psychologically challenged teens. But I did read it. Every dang word!

2) Then there's the subject matter itself. My Sister, My Love is Oates's fictionalized version of the Jon Benet Ramsey murder. Oh, Oates made several changes. Bliss, Oates's answer to Jon Benet, is a child prodigy ice skater rather than a pint-sized beauty queen. Hey. At least it provides a better reason, IMHO, for her to be made-up like a miniature prostitute. The reader is, however, aware of what color ruffled panties are part of every costume she wears.

3) And there's the slant. The story is told through the eyes of Skyler Rampike, Bliss' older brother. I remember an older brother in the actual crime, but again details are changed. Skyler is nine when his six-year-old sister is killed. Oates tells his story through flashbacks and discoveries that occur he is actually nineteen.

4) On the plus side, My Sister, My Love, works—and works well—as an out-and-out whodunit. The guilty are revealed at the end, and along the way credible red herrings abound.

5) I'm wondering when Oates really wrote this one. The mother is hands-down the least likeable character, and I find it interesting that My Sister, My Love appears not that long after Mrs. Ramsey's death. Could Joyce Carol Oates actually be "nice"?

In spite of my dislike of the length, I did dog-ear several pages. Let's see which of them are worth discussing.

1) Bix Rampike takes his son Skyler to a gym in order to turn him into an athlete, first choice being a world-class gymnast. Once in the area for gymnastics, Sklyer notices the "floor-to-ceiling mirrors that seemed to shimmer with inaudible laughter. A cruel punishment it seemed to Skyler, that adults had not only to struggle so, but were made to watch themselves in mirrors." (page 73) Always wondered why gyms had mirrors. Now I know: to add to the torture.

2) A side comment: "(Did you know that the original 'balls' in field sports were human heads? Decapitated heads of enemies?)" (page 123) Anyone know if that's true? After over a week of reading and 562 pages, I'm too lazy to try to find out.

3) As Bliss' fame begins to grow, Skyler thinks, "Popular! In America, what else matters?" (page 152) Talk about summing up the country in one line. Wow!

4) One complete chapter: Cool!

5) Betsey Rampike is on a talk show promoting her first book. The hostess says, "If this doesn't break your hearts, and make you damn good and mad at left-wing legislatures and radical-liberal judges giving over-lenient sentences to vicious sex offenders proliferating in our midst, you can ask for your money back from me." (page 405) Love the wording. "… you can ask …" Think a lawyer wrote it?

6) Subtle and humorous are not words I associate with Oates, but I may start doing so. Betsey disagrees with a psychiatrist's diagnosis of Skyler. "That woman! With a degree from just Rutgers. I should have known better, a 'child trauma specialist' who is herself childless. And so overpriced, you'd think she was a man." (page 416.)

7) "HSR (high suicide risk) means you have always the challenge of resisting your fate for a while longer." (page 487) And people consider Oates' writing a downer. Don't know why.

So is all the above a recommendation? Dunno. I do, however, think the final page and a half have the power to rip your heart out. They did mine.

A few days ago I wrote that I had just started My Guantanamo Diary by Mahvish Rukhsana Khan, and would let you know how it went.

I was interrupted with Other Stuff(tm) so it took me longer than it might have to finish. I do recommend it.

Khan's goal is not to expose Gitmo, or the US, or to go undercover to shine a light on dark secrets of torture and terrorists. It's much simpler than all that: she wants us to see the detainees as human beings.

In this book we get to know a small handful of detainees, at least two of whom were cleared, then detained for several more months before their release. One of her clients was a pediatrician who left Afghanistan when the Taliban came to power. When the Taliban fell, the doctor returned to Afghanistan to open a clinic - and was arrested shortly thereafter. Another of her clients is an 80-year-old man, barely able to walk. Because of his age, he is able to give her a hug and hold her while he prays for her success - not with his case, but with her life as a lawyer, her future marriage and family.

Another prisoner, a journalist, began writing poetry during his incarceration. At first, pen and pencil were not allowed so he wrote his poems on styrofoam cups with his fingernail. Before he left Gitmo he had written 25,000 lines of poetry - almost none of which he was allowed to take with him when he was freed.

Khan says that while she is sure there are terrorists and serious bad guys (my phrase) imprisoned at Guantanamo Bay, most of the people for whom she translated appeared to be there because someone sold them to the Americans for bounty money. There was one client who raised questions for her but even he did not seem to fit the definition of wild-eyed terrorist.

There are enough hints about the darker side of Gitmo to make your skin crawl. There is certainly enough detail to make you angry. But mostly there are descriptions of people who are caught up in politics, war, and economics, and who want very much to go home. It's a character study.

Not sure I'd recommend springing for the hardcopy but definitely worth borrowing from the library.

I have now finished my second James Lee Burke novel. Entitled A Morning for Flamingos, it's another mystery featuring Detective Dave Robicheaux. (Actually, Robicheaux is undercover in this one, and I think he'll soon be off the force—like Laurence Bloch's Matthew Scudder.) (Hey, they're both off-the-force detectives, turned PIs, and recovering alcoholics. Do I see a comparison study coming on?)

Anyway, basic reactions to Flamingoes: 1) I don't think I'm going to fall in love with this series like I did Ed McBain's 87th precinct novels. So far I've seen no signs of an Ed McBain wit, a grievous lack, IMHO. But I'm willing to keep reading. 2) For me, Flamingoes was a bit too long. I stayed interested in the slew of offbeat characters Burke presented, but by the time he reached the end and revealed what happened to two characters, it was a minute before I remembered they were the central characters at the book's beginning. I felt somehow cheated. 3) Burke is far too descriptive for me. I don't care what a character is wearing every time he comes on stage, and if that degree of attention to such trivia is what constitutes good writing, I'll never achieve it.

I did dog-ear a few pages. Let's see.

1) A character says, "Sometimes I make up a picnic basket, and Paul and me spend the night down here." (page 265) Now the character speaking is a New Orleans don who prides himself on his behavior and manners. Miss Picky doubts he would say, "Paul and me spend …" But she could be wrong.

2) On page 268: "You dideed out on us." Dideed? I think Burke used it another time, but I can't find it. Anyone ever run into the term? It's not in the online Heritage dictionary. The characters were talking about Vietnam related stuff.

3) "Clete pushed the door back on its springs and stepped into the room like an elephant entering a phone booth." (page 276) Not a bad analogy. Indeed, almost witty.

4) About the setting: "It's still winter, but we treat winter in South Louisiana as a transitory accident." (page 318) I like that one. Downright witty—IMHO.

The "dideed" looks like one of many variants of "diddy-bop" or "ditty-bop" but I've never seen it spelled that way.

I've liked the few Robicheaux mysteries I've read - enough to read two or three, not enough to make me pant for the next one (I'm not a big mystery reader though).

Guess that could fit.

Just put My Guantanamo Diary on my B&N wish list, but it'll probably be there for a while. Mu husband's reall scared, speaking financiall.

Dear Martha, I hear that all the time. "Me and my brother went huntin'." "Him and me are good buddies."

One that drives me nuts, though: "My two friends and myself went hunting." "Myself" went hunting? Another one that I hear a lot, from seemingly otherwise intelligent people.

EmmaG

I know what you mean...I've been doing a lot more half.com than local bookstore, lately.

I've been trying to reduce the number of books I buy but somehow I seriously want to escape between the covers - both book & bed - lately, and I'm just not willing to wait for my turn at the library.

Oh! Martha - I should have added that "ditty-bop" came to mind because I've heard it connected to a Vietnamese word/phrase that I'm not going to get right: didi mao, I believe. I'll keep looking. (I used to read a lot of Vietnam War stuff.)

Gees! Takes a strong stomach to read your way through Steve Johnson's The Ghost Map, a tale of the outbreak of cholera in 1850's London.. Should I assume all of you know how human waste was dealt with at that time in history? I'd never given it much thought, but The Ghost Map told me way more than I ever wanted to know. Let's just say movies about those years never show what the streets really looked like. And thank heavens smell-o-rama never materialized. What a misguided idea that would have been.

But back to the book: It was interesting. This burst of cholera led to scientists determining that that the disease was contracted through water instead of air—although it took many more years to convince the public. Then that discovery, over time, led to underground sewage systems, water purification, indoor plumbing, and finally Joe, the plumber, being able to purchase a company that may or may not make over $250,000 a year.

Onto the dog-eared pages:

Nah. Nothing I really want to go into. Johnson does, however, have some interesting theories: 1) in a view of the world from space, the shape of cities—defined by their lights—is remarkably similar to the shape of bacteria found in cholera-infested water and 2) a minor act such as the removal of the pump handle from the Broad Street Pump in 1850's London can have an ever greater long-term effect than, say, the killing of a king.

The Ghost Map did add one book to my list, specifically Charles Dickens's Bleak House. Here's hoping I already have it.

And, oh yeah, do I recommend The Ghost Map? Sure. If nothing else, it'll make you appreciate indoor plumbing and waste management. Never again will I take them for granted I such a casual manner.

Thanks, Martha. I heard a good review of Ghost Map a few months ago but it didn't make it onto my list. Now I'll be sure it gets there.

j

I think someone talked about it here. Im pretty sure that's where i heard of it.