Showing posts with label The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend. Show all posts

Friday, June 12, 2020

Library Living, the Gift That Keeps Giving . . .


. . . even though I don't like libraries (too smelly).  But I love what they represent.  That is, books.  And in this world, there are few things more comforting than books about books and the people who love them.  Because I'm one of those people too.  So, The Bookish Life of Nina Hill was on my short list of must reads.  If the title sounds a little like The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry, then 1) congrats, you've been listening! and 2) that's because it's in that league.  Like A.J., Nina is all about stories.  And knowledge.  And sharing those stories and that knowledge with fellow bookworms who appreciate them.

Here are some things about Nina:

She's twenty-nine, lives in Los Angeles, and works in an independent bookstore.  She's the captain of a pub trivia team called Book 'Em, Danno.  She has an absentee, award-winning photojournalist mother and a father she's never met.  She's witty and arch, sometimes silent, sometimes outspoken.  Order is very important to her, and she enjoys spending time alone.  Also, she's anxious.  And like many anxious people, she's ruled by a mix of imagination and restraint.  I liked her immediately.      

The Bookish Life of Nina Hill is somehow both light and heavy, like ambrosia or non-diet canned pears.  Like its heroine, this novel is organized and moves nimbly from point A to point B.  Yet despite its sound structure, it falls firmly into the camp of books that are about thoughts as opposed to actions.  If it were a movie (and I hope that someday it will be!), then it'd be an indie film instead of a big budget blockbuster.  To me, that's the fiction hall of fame sweet spot.  Quirky and cute and just a little bit sad and played out in the life of the mind.  But instead of nattering on and giving away the ending, I'll share three of the quotes that made me fold the pages.  By the way, I used to think that page folding was blasphemy.  But I've since accepted it as one of the best parts of being a bibliophile.  Not to mention a good reason to say neigh to the Kindle.

A quote that's Nina in a nutshell:

"Nina worried she liked being alone too much; it was the only time she ever fully relaxed.  People were . . . exhausting.  They made her anxious.  Leaving her apartment every morning was the turning over of a giant hourglass, the mental energy she'd stored up overnight eroding grain by grain.  She refueled during the day by grabbing moments of solitude and sometimes felt her life was a long-distance swim between islands of silence.  She enjoyed people -- she really did -- she just needed to take them in homeopathic doses; a little of the poison was the cure." (17).

A quote that's lyrical and mentions makeup:

"As the light dwindled, palm trees and distant buildings would become black silhouettes against an impossibly rosy backdrop.  Sunsets are beautiful in California, the cornflower blue of the sky diluting as the light fades into a teenage girl's pastel palette of nail colors." (96) 

A quote that's a little bit serious and a little bit funny:

"It (The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran) contained Nina's favorite saying: You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts.  She wanted to wear it on a T-shirt, embroider it on a pillow, or maybe tattoo it on her wrist.  But the trouble with wordy tattoos was that people start reading them, then you have to stand still while they finish, and then they look up at you and frown and you have to explain yourself . . . Way too much human interaction, plus also the needles, the pain, the fear of the needles and pain.  So, no tattoo, but an embroidery wasn't out of the question." (183)

In the way of novels, things happen to Nina.  These things, of course, involve other people, presenting her with the challenge of expanding her comfort zone while remaining true to herself.  So yeah, she's like A.J. and Sara and Susan and Eleanor and countless other outsider characters.  Which is to say, human.  And, despite her issues, perhaps not so odd after all.

So, here's to word nerds everywhere and living one's best life by -- and not by -- the book.

Sounds like an epic tattoo -- er, embroidery -- to me.

Sunday, February 3, 2019

Pen to Caper: Keeping it Real With My Pal Chenille


 Buddha Brigade Charm Necklace

Sweater: Express
Skirt: Marshalls
Shoes: Payless
Bag: Merona, Target
Green and orange bangles: Mixit, JCPenney
Maroon bangle: Iris Apfel for INC, Macy's


 Double Trouble Gumball Necklace

Sweater: Alfani, Macy's
Leggings: Gifted
Shoes: Ami Clubwear
Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's
Purple bracelet: Etsy
Yellow, pink, and rainbow bracelets: So, Kohl's
Bigger rainbow bracelet: A. C. Moore


Dark Romantic Dramedy Necklace 

Sweater: TJ Maxx
Skirt: Material Girl, Macy's
Shoes: 2 Lips Too, JCPenney
Bag: Fred Flare
Striped bangle: Mixit, JCPenney
Yellow bangles: B Fabulous



Rad Rainbow Necklace 


Sweater: Express
Skirt: Mudd, Kohl's
Boots: Simply Vera, Kohl's
Bag: Worthington, JCPenney

Cozy sweaters are like old friends.  They comfort you on the coldest days, embracing you in a literal hug.  Half of the sweaters here are chenille, which is, to my delight, enjoying a bit of a renaissance.  That said, if sweaters are old friends, then pen pals are friends we -- to borrow a phrase from a USC psych study on blogging -- haven't met yet.  As someone who loves to write, I've had more than a few pen pals in my day.  But never one quite like Amy.  

"Huh?" you're probably thinking, "I thought we were talking about sweaters.  Who the heck is Amy?"  She's (at least in my opinion) the driving force in Katarina Bivald's novel The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend.  Which is not about sweaters but might as well be.  The book is about twenty-something Sara, who lives in Sweden with her parents and works in a bookstore.  Quiet and lonely, Sara seeks solace in books.  Her most meaningful relationship is with her pen pal Amy, an older Iowa woman who is a fellow bibliophile.  So when Amy invites Sara to visit, she accepts.  Her parents are skeptical, warning her of the dangers of America and of traveling alone.  But Sara, who is tired of just standing still, packs her bags.  Yet when she arrives in Amy's hometown of Broken Wheel, she finds out that Amy is dead.  Also, that Broken Wheel is tiny and behind the times and, as its name implies, damaged and going nowhere.  In the tradition of small towns, the locals take Sara under their collective wing, insisting that she stay in Amy's library of a house.  So she does, and it's scary and weird and a little boring.  At least until she decides to use Amy's books to open a bookstore.  Which would be challenging enough in any economically depressed area.  But it's nearly impossible in Broken Wheel, where almost nobody reads.


At first, I was like, how odd, a Swedish woman putting roots down in -- and, if we're to include Bivald, then writing about -- Iowa.  But then I remembered that the Midwest was settled by Scandinavians (thanks, Rose Niland.  Watching all those Golden Girls reruns taught me about more than the restorative power of cheesecake).  Bivald keeps the connection between Sweden and Iowa alive by including Amy's letters, all of which are well-written and kind.  They're also a little formal, reminding us that Amy and Sara have never met despite the life-changing effect of their friendship.  

Opening the bookstore brings Sara out of her shell.  Which just goes to show that when you do what you love, your best self emerges.  This comes in especially handy when Sara has to deal with uppity customers from the neighboring hamlet of Hope.  She does so with confidence, aplomb, and, when the situation calls for it, spirit.  It's as if she's soaking up Amy's essence through her books.  The thing that eased her isolation becomes the thing that makes her belong.  

Sara also begins to get to know Amy's nephew, Tom.  They don't go out to dinner or to the movies.  Instead, he teachers her how to cook American classics.  Like corn dogs.  Now, what they have is not the hey-little-lady-you-must-be-new-in-town kind of thing that so often blooms when boy meets girl in novels (corn dogs notwithstanding.)  They have a downright unflirty relationship, in no small part because it's foisted upon them by their meddling if well-meaning friends.  But what they lack in frission, they more than make up for in steadiness.  Theirs is a no-nonsense, pioneer kind of companionship that's made all the more tender for its dearth of za za zu.  

The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend is a quiet book, befitting a narrative about a reader.  And although the only real reader remains Sara, her bookstore inspires everyone who lives in Broken Wheel to come together to save it.  In its humble, deceptively simple way, Wheel reexamines what it means to be an American and what it means to be in love.  Both are about commitment and jumping right in, even when it seems reckless.  What makes it work is the characters, all of whom are earnest in their search for an everyday kind of happily ever after.

And that's pretty comfy cozy.  Just like a warm, colorful -- and possibly chenille -- sweater.  

I won't judge if you call yours Amy.