Gatsby’s Girl by Caroline Preston

(*** of five)

In a lot of ways I’m sort of ambivalent about this book.  I did quite enjoy the story; the youth and middle age of a debutante in the early twentieth century. But I’m not sure it benefited from it’s link to F. Scott Fitzgerald. The girl in question is Ginevra Perry. She’s beautiful, she’s rich, she’s popular and because she’s bored at her all girls boarding school she decides it would be quite pleasant to fall in love with that young writer from Princeton who she met on a frigid night in St. Paul and who writes very lovely letters. But since youth is fickle she throws him over most callously and marries a boring aviator, only to repeatedly find herself in the pages of her former flame’s popular novels. This is Ginevra’s story, through and through, and I enjoyed her growth as a character. What irked me slightly is that this could have easily been loosely based on the Scott Fitzgerald/Ginevra King story without going so far as to name the author and keep the first name of the girl. This is not particularly about Ginevra King, but more a conglomeration of the debutante and every character that it’s been rumored was based on her. The author of this book wrote the book she wanted to write (in evidence by her afterward), and it was compelling; Ginevra is a strong, likable character, despite her flaws, but it wasn’t entirely the book I wanted. I would recommended it, but not as proper historical fiction.

Rules of Civility by Amor Towles

(***** of five)

This book was, in a word, resplendent. I had never heard of this book when I unwrapped it on Christmas morning, but I’m lucky in the fact that my mother knows me very well. This is the story of the year 1938 in the life of a one Katherine (alternately Kate or Katey) Kontent. A chance meeting on the night of the new year propels her through a tumultuous year of ups and downs, hellos and goodbyes, and rags and riches. Katey’s a wonderfully realized character and all of the friends, lovers, and acquaintances who swan through her life leave lasting impressions, both on the narrator and the reader. I loved everything about this book. The dialogue was pitch perfect, the tone not to light and not to dark, and the scenery was like looking at lush black and white photographs of a time you wish you could have experienced. Like nostalgia for what you never had. I don’t often give out five stars, but this deserves it.

The Sign of Four by Arthur Conan Doyle

(**** of five)

The Sign of Four is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s second Sherlock Holmes story. Let’s just be clear here, I’m a big Holmes fan. It might have something to do with the fact that one of my great literary crushes is John Watson (see, here). Or maybe I just really enjoy stories about socially awkward people who do pretty impressive things. ‘The Sign of Four’ begins with Holmes lolling about, shooting up cocaine, in between cases and Watson trying his utmost not to say anything about it. Luckily, in walks Mary Morstan with a scintillating case. Her father disappeared ten years hence and now as of late she’s received a note saying she’s a wronged woman and a collection of fat pearls. She entreats Holmes to discover the mystery, which involves a one legged man, a penal colony in Malaysia, a hidden treasure, and plenty of deceit. And if that wasn’t enough then there’s the element of romance, as by the end Miss Morstan is well on her way to becoming Mrs. Watson. It’s typical Holmes fare, and that’s a good thing.

Club Rules by Andrew Trees

(*** of five)

I had a very complicated relationship with this book. In the beginning, when every chapter a new characters was introduced, I almost got fed up and put it down. But I don’t really do that. So I trudged on until there were at least a few characters for me to grab onto. This is, essentially, the story of an entire town show through the eyes of a handful of its residents. The town in question is Eden’s Glen, Illinois, a fictional suburb of Chicago. Eden’s Glen is nice, it’s prestigious, and there’s apparently a minimum requirement of asshole if you strive to live there. Meaning, you should be one. Every single character in this book is a horrid person, if only because they treat everyone else around them like shit, don’t communicate with their spouse and/or offspring, and climb over each other’s backs to achieve a modicum of status elevation. At the center of this group of hideous individuals are the Winthropes; Preston and Anne who everyone want to be. They’re rich, they’re glamorous, they’re falling apart. Like every other man in the book Preston screwed around on his wife and they never discuss it before Anne moves out leaving her son behind. The son, of course, Baird, is the only vaguely likable character in this whole show. He’s got issues, but they’re most sympathetic and he does seem to TRY, even if he never gets it right. But, he’s a teenager, he’s not SUPPOSED to get it right. And at least it gave a change from every single man bitching inwardly about his wife gaining wait or wearing the wrong clothes or not screwing him readily every night.

Now, don’t think I misunderstand, this is a satire of a suburban stereotype that doesn’t really exist. (See ‘Suburgatory’, American Broadcasting Company for further reference) And in a lot of way it does succeed. We often see the same exchange from several sides, which is usually amusing enough to keep me holding the book instead of throwing it across the room. But, I would have like to see a few less narrators. I couldn’t get a grasp on most of them and grasping, social climbing Norman, for example, didn’t propel any sort of story along. But overall it was an amusing mess that moved along quickly and I don’t regret reading, even if I wouldn’t pass it along to any friends.

Dash & Lily’s Book of Dares by David Levithan and Rachel Cohn

(**** of five)

I picked up this book because I got the rather strong and sudden impression that Rachel Cohn and David Levithan must be very fond of Dashiell Hammett. Nick and Norah was one thing, that could be a coincidence, especially with the altered spelling of the heroines name, but Dash and Lily is too obvious. Too gloriously clear. Now, why this should be a reason for someone to pick up a book is something I can’t rightfully answer (and if I can’t then no one can), but it was. I read Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist sometime around when the movie came out. I found it intriguing, cute, and miles beyond what is usually pumped out for Young Adult audiences. I should maybe point out here that my opinion is skewed as I am in no way a Young Adult anymore. Only at heart. And maturity. Also beside the point.

‘Dash and Lily’ takes place on and around Christmas in New York City. Both teenagers find themselves inexplicably alone for the holiday and each need someone to reach out to in order to occupy their time and their sanity. He’s finicky, bookish, and a myriad of other adjectives you can already imagine from the two I’ve already presented, and she’s adorable, somewhat immature, and all heart. At first it’s hard to believe that these two might actually hit it off, despite a shared love of perceived newness and J.D. Salinger. But eventually it becomes more and more clear that while they have many differences, they are probably what they need in another person.

It was a pleasant little book that didn’t take long to read and was filled with likable and well rounded characters. And that’s really what this story is about. The story meanders through the streets of Manhattan with crazed mothers, overenthusiastic friends, lots of relatives, and lebkuchen cookies, but this is really about Dash and Lily, through and through.

My only problem? Franny Glass was never going to Yale, that was never in question. She was, in fact, already in college (probably Smith or one like it) and visiting Lane Coutell at what was probably Princeton for the Yale game. She talks extensively about it. Nit-picky? Sure, but there’s a bit of Dash in me.

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Last year I spent New Years in Beacon, New York visiting my friend, Atticus, who I hadn’t seen in years. I’m talking… kids had been born that I’d never met. The visit was long past due but because of my somewhat annoying work schedule the only time I could fit in a visit was over the holiday. So another friend, Daniel, and I piled into the car and off we went to Dutchess County (which I call such because I find it to be a rather glorious county name). I posted about it here. But, one of the things I took away from this trip, and it’s detailed more fully in that post I just linked, is how completely amazing the Hudson River really is. So immense and historic and I get lovely thoughts of old Dutch settlers finding new places to settle.

February

In February of last year my mother went to a wedding at the Ritz Carlton and decided to get a room. I had a Burlesque event in Akron on the same night but afterwards I got to sleep in style. That was the sort of hotel room that makes sad I’m poor most of the time. The best part was probably the view which looked out onto the Flats, and bridges, and our beautiful little winding Cuyahoga.

March

Ah, St. Patrick’s Day. I seems like the sort of holiday where I’d just start indiscriminately snapping photos. And guess what? It is. I had the day off this year and went with K and J downtown to view the parade, then beat the crowds on East 4th who were heading to Flannery’s (we headed for Erie Island Coffee Company), and then finally went on to our old standby the Charles Stuart Parnell in good old Cleveland Heights. It’s always amusing how they have a bouncer one night a year and the cups suddenly turn from glass to plastic. It’s always a good time, even on non-Irish theme holidays. And could there possibly be a more drunk looking photo?

April

Roller derby starts in March, but it goes into full swing in April. Every year K, J, and I get season tickets and have a blast watching two of my favorite things; girls kicking a little ass, and people body checking each other. This year I finally came out with my roller derby name, though I have no intention of every using it (that DOES NOT give any readers out there free game); Maid of the Fist.

May

Niagara Falls is only of my favorite places on Earth. Which is convenient since it’s only about four hours away. I love the juxtaposition of natural beauty to one of the cheesiest places one can possibly imagine. Where else, except Clifton Hill, can one find a Burger King adorned with Frankenstein or King Kong hanging over a fallen Empire State Building? The Clifton Hill area of Niagara Falls, Ontario is nothing short of fantastic with about eighty themed wax museums and permenant haunted houses. Cheap souvenirs, watered down drinks, and a beer garden karaoke bar; along with a few gigantic waterfalls. It’s a tourists dream.

June

Every year K and I head off, once a week, to Mentor Headlands, our favorite Lake Erie Beach. We usually go on Thursdays which is perfect. I get off work at three, she gets off work at four and there’s plenty of time to spend relaxing on the uncrowded beach before Scooter’s Dog House for a hamburger afterwards. It’s one summer tradition I most definitely could not do without. June of this past year was a bit rainy, but our first official Beach Day was firmly in the middle of the month. Oh, why can’t it be June right now?

July

It had been awhile since I’d done anything for the Fourth of July. The year before I was suffering from a kidney stone and entirely doped up on Percocets for any festivities so this year I really wanted to live it up. I convinced K and J to go to the Family Fun Fest this year in Settler’s Park by the river. They had Euclid Beach Park paraphernalia, salt water taffy (with free water) for a dollar, and Sousa band to entertain us while it got dark. It was pretty much everything I wanted it to be.

August

Oh Sebastian, I made you up in August. For those of you who aren’t my friends on Facebook I feel as though I should explain. In fact he might be getting his own page to elaborate on this a little bit. Sebastian is my fake twin brother. He was originally going to be two years older than me, but an old (Shakespeare) teacher said every girl should have a twin brother named Sebastian. Neither Viola nor I could agree more. Now he is, obviously, a bit of a joke, but at this point he’s so intricately designed that no one can quite believe (or wants to accept) that he is, in fact, not real. Particularly me.

September

In September K, J, and I headed to Pittsburgh. I love Pittsburgh. People seem to think this is weird, but usually it comes from people who have never been to Pittsburgh. It’s a small city, to be sure, but I can’t help but be impressed with its relatively bustling downtown and  culture. Plus, well they have, not one, but two funiculars. That’s a plus. And I love the yellow bridges. I love all the bridges, since they have a ton of them. On this trip we went to the Toonseum and farmers market. I bought some plums that I then left at Lake Winnipesaukee (much to my chagrin). I also love the hills.

October

In 2004 I went to Europe by myself. I wanted to go and knew no one who was able to go with me so I did the only thing I could do and went by myself. I had a blast, obviously (who wouldn’t?), but I haven’t done much solo traveling since then. I couldn’t figure out why not. So this year, after a camp reunion in Fitzwilliam, New Hampshire and the aforementioned sojourn to Lake Winnipesaukee I headed to New York. It had been about four or five years since I’d been there and I find that after about that amount of time I start to miss my trips there. I stayed in a hovel in Morningside Heights (okay, it wasn’t so bad) and went to the American Museum of Natural History. And other stuff, clearly. Actually, though, I found myself walking outrageous distances and never once used public transportation which… was a bad idea the next day when I had blisters and was sore in muscles I didn’t know I had. But I did exactly what I wanted to do, which was mostly book research, and was very happy.

November

In November I turned 30 and celebrated the end of my twenties with the twenties at my Gatsby Party. I think it was one of the first successful parties of I’ve thrown. Everyone got very into the costumes and a lot of people actually showed up (always a plus). We drank copious amounts of champagne, Pimm’s Cup, and St. Germain. I’m pretty sure everyone was drunk by the end of the night, which is just how Fitzgerald would have liked it.

December

December is the holidays, pure and simple. Always has been and probably always will be. There’s so much that goes into getting ready for the season; gift buying, tree purchasing and decorating, pulling boxes from the attic and putting them back… pulling out my Charlie Brown tree… Okay this was the first year I had an official Charlie Brown tree. I had another in Columbus that just sort of looked like the tree in the infamous Christmas special but I got rid of that pitiful thing when I moved. Now I’ve gone official and I love it. Obviously, I love Peanuts and like K said when she finally watched the special “I found out you’re a female Charlie Brown”. It’s true. But I don’t always think that’s a bad thing.

As the main characters of Dashiell Hammett’s novel The Thin Man and the subsequent six films based off it, Nick and Nora Charles (played by the incandescently awesome William Powell and Myrna Loy) are great for so many reasons. Here are a few.

1) They solve crimes.

2) They solve crimes while drinking.

3) They solve crimes with drinking and bantering amusingly with one another.

4) They have a dog named Asta who’s actually sort of cute. For a dog.

Well, I can’t say it better than they can.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PG3NZjRv2nM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H1tnbPBCtnI

“Charlie Brown, you’re the only person I know who can take a wonderful season like Christmas and turn it into a problem. Maybe Lucy’s right. Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, you’re the Charlie Browniest. “

“Look, Charlie, let’s face it. We all know that Christmas is a big commercial racket. It’s run by a big eastern syndicate, you know.”

“I never thought it was such a bad little tree. It’s not bad at all, really. Maybe it just needs a little love.”

No one celebrates quite like those Addamses.

1. Breaking Down – Florence and the Machine

2. Under the Thumb – Amy Studt

3. A Winter’s Sky – The Pipettes

4. Forever for Her (Is Over for Me) – The White Stripes

5. The Angels Hung Around – Rilo Kiley

6. Three Wishes – The Pierces

7. Take Me As I Am – Au Revoir Simone

8. Riverside – Agnes Obel

9. Eet – Regina Spektor

10. Two of Us – Aimee Mann & Michael Penn

11. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow – Amy Winehouse

12. Catching Snowflakes – Pixie Lott

13. You – The Pretty Reckless

14. Horchata – Vampire Weekend

15. The American – Nouvelle Vague

16. Wild Young Hearts – Noisettes

17. Street I Never Lived On – The Ropes

18. Strangers – The Kinks

19. The Ice Storm, Big Gust, And You – Tilly & the Wall

Sometimes Christmas makes me want to kill myself, a result of working in a retail establishment that saturates me in this holiday for what feels like half a year, but what I do love about it is that actual day when you get together with your friends and family and give each other the things you’ve collected to give to each other. I’m lucky, I don’t need anything. Nor do I want much. But, I do want these things. So, Santa, if you’re out there… I wouldn’t mind.

An apartment in Paris. Preferably with a garret. The mansard roof is a must. I’d like it to be in Montmartre, but I’ll be realistic here and take Saint-Germain-des-Prés or the Quartier Latin.

A Mercedes-Benz 300SD, W116, or W126 from the early 80s. Preferably black with silver trim. Oh, and it should be in pristine working condition. I don’t want to be dragging it in to be fixed every other week.

Hermès Birkin Bag. I don’t care what color. Am I the sort of person that wants to carry around a bag that costs thousands of dollars just because it costs thousands of dollars? Eh, yes and no. The thing is this; I carry around a monumental amounts of stuff. The last good purse I had was a diaper bag. And I really do like the Birkin. But would I know about it if it weren’t ridiculously expensive? Probably not. Still, there’s a little lock and… it holds lots of stuff!

A French Revolution Room. Preferably in the apartment in Paris. The rest of the place can be decorated with my various piles of crap.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt. He doesn’t have to be wearing this outfit, but I wouldn’t mind.

Sebastian Heller. I’d like my fictional twin brother to be real, please.