Tiffany

Christopher Moore writes with a particular broad and bawdy humor (not for the easily-offended reader), a refreshing antidote to too much seriousness. In his new book, baker/artist Lucien Lessard and Henri Toulouse-Lautrec set out to solve the mystery of Vincent Van Gogh’s tragic suicide, tracing his ties to the mysterious Colorman who provided pigments—including the famed ultramarine blue of the book’s title. Funny and surreal, Sacre Bleu captures the liveliness of larger-than-life Impressionists and Post-Impressionists in Paris (think Midnight in Paris —crossed with a bit of Monty Python —with artists instead of writers). And the book design is gorgeous, printed in blue ink with color reproductions of works of art that enhance the story.

Zusak has created a work that deserves the attention of sophisticated teen and adult readers. Death himself narrates the World War II-era story of Liesel Meminger from the time she is taken, at age nine, to live in Molching, Germany, with a foster family in a working-class neighborhood of tough kids, acid-tongued mothers, and loving fathers who earn their living by the work of their hands. The child arrives having just stolen her first book–although she has not yet learned how to read–and her foster father uses it, The Gravediggers Handbook, to lull her to sleep when shes roused by regular nightmares about her younger brothers death. Across the ensuing years of the late 1930s and into the 1940s, Liesel collects more stolen books as well as a peculiar set of friends: the boy Rudy, the Jewish refugee Max, the mayors reclusive wife (who has a whole library from which she allows Liesel to steal), and especially her foster parents. Zusak not only creates a mesmerizing and original story but also writes with poetic syntax, causing readers to deliberate over phrases and lines, even as the action impels them forward. Death is not a sentimental storyteller, but he does attend to an array of satisfying details, giving Liesels story all the nuances of chance, folly, and fulfilled expectation that it deserves. An extraordinary narrative.

War never really ends for those involved, even after it's supposedly over. World War II separates the young couple Silvana and Janusz. Janusz enlists in the Polish army but flees to France when his regiment is destroyed and eventually ends up serving in the English RAF. Silvana and their baby are left behind in Poland, victims of both the Nazis and the Russians, forced to hide in the forest. After the war, Janusz, Silvana and young Aurek reunite and try to make a new life together in England. However, past secrets haunt all of them, and haunt the reader, too, in this beautifully-written book of suffering and loss, and the redemptive power of love.

Marjorie writes lyrically about life and love in this moving, tender, and often funny memoir. In it, she chronicles a time that was filled with change—a new husband, new house, and new garden—and even more challenges when her husband had a heart attack and builders proposed drastic changes to their college neighborhood. Throughout the book, gardening comes to represent the inevitable mutability of life. And as things change, so are we changed by what we read.

Who hasn’t had a favorite item of clothing and grieved when it grew too small or wore out? The little girl in this delightful picture book becomes upset when she outgrows her favorite dress. But, with needle and thread, her mama turns it into a shirt and—as she grows larger and it grows smaller—later into a tank top, then a skirt, scarf, socks, and finally a hair ribbon. When a puppy chews the ribbon, the heroine turns the scraps into a final transformation: a collage picture that she’ll never outgrow! Charming mixed-media illustrations pair with a lively rhyming text for a winning story about reuse, resourcefulness, and creativity.

I adored this book and have been waiting for months until its release to be able to share it with others! The Circus—Le Cirque de Reves—appears at night without warning, inviting revelers (and readers) to enter its myriad tents and experience a world of dreams: a garden made of ice, a tree that collects wishes, and so much more. Amidst this circus, two magicians, fated in youth by two other magicians to duel for years in a contest of magic, conjure exquisite enchantments and fall in love. Erin Morgenstern’s own magic of words brings this all to life in perfect detail. When I finished reading, I was ready to start the book all over again and re-enter the Circus of Dreams. A literary fantasy for readers who don't usually try fantasy (and those who do).

Caldecott award-winning author/illustrator Brian Selznick’s new children’s book (ages 9 to 12) truly is a wonder! In it he weaves two separate but parallel stories taking place fifty years apart—Rose’s in the 1920s told in striking black-and-white pictures and Ben’s in the 1970s told in words. Both children are deaf, Rose by birth and Ben in a lightning strike, and both suffer loneliness and loss and run away to New York City to find their place in the world. Partway through the book, the stories meld together seamlessly, solving several mysteries; the whole satisfied my yearning for a happy—but not pat—ending. I read the entire 600 page book in one great gulp of a sitting and recommend it to readers of all ages.

Madeleine Hannah, English major and admirer of Regency and Victorian literature, finds herself caught between two loves: the brilliant but manic-depressive researcher Leonard and Religious Studies major Mitchell in Jeffrey Eugenides’ first book since his Pulitzer Prize-winning Middlesex. Set at Brown University in the early 1980s and chronicling the threesome’s college years and their first year after graduation, this novel captures the innocence and turmoil of those angst-filled years of finding one’s place in the world. I loved Eugenides’ deftly drawn characters –I could imagine having philosophical and literary discussions with all of them in a corner at a party. The book took me back, fondly, to my own college years, but also carried me forward into the imagined futures of these people I’ve grown to love.

I finished reading Icefall this past Sunday as snow blanketed the world outside my window. As I watched the snowflakes fall, I pictured myself in the hidden fortress beneath a frozen fjord where a Viking king has sent his children with trusted servants and guards for safety while he wages war with a neighboring lord. Just before the sea ices over, a ship of the King’s berserkers lands and joins the small group to protect them. Icebound together, everyone’s tensions fray, and then a traitor poisons the berserkers. In the midst of tragedy, Solveig, the middle and often forgotten daughter, discovers hidden strength and a talent for storytelling that might save them all. Complex characters—neither all good nor all bad, taut writing, and an atmospheric setting create a gripping adventure punctuated with Norse mythology and filled with themes of loyalty, betrayal, bravery, and self-discovery.

Hired to find a young Gypsy woman who disappeared seven years ago shortly after her marriage, private investigator Ray Lovell, half-Romany himself, narrates from a hospital bed, recovering from poisoning and desperately trying to remember the missing person case he was working on. As he recalls the details, the narrative slips back and forth in time, alternating Lovell’s point of view with that of a teenage Gypsy, and one family’s hidden world becomes revealed. The author crafts believable characters you care about and gives a glimpse into the little-known culture and community of British Gypsies, culminating with a riveting plot twist. I highly recommend Penney’s second book and look forward to reading her acclaimed earlier work, The Tenderness of Wolves.