Gulp

by Mary Roach
5 out of 5 stars

Mary Roach has done it again. Exhaustive research involving possibly some of the strangest conversations in the weirdest settings has resulted in yet another book that makes science not only fascinating, but laugh-out-loud funny.

This time, she’s tackled the digestive system – end to end. Historical details, little-known facts, hilarious footnotes* and Roach’s trademark delivery make reading about eating, digestion and, yes, poop, a page turning experience.

Take her conversation about "hooping" in a prison with a likeable guy with nice teeth named Rodriguez (identified as such to protect his identity) serving a life sentence for murder. Hooping, for those not in the know, is when prisoners hide stuff in their rectums. Like iPhones. And more. Much more, as Rodriguez cheerfully shares with us all.

Who knew our gut and overall transport system for food and nutrients (among other things, apparently) was such a marvel of engineering? Mary Roach, that’s who.

She also addresses endless fads that have surrounded our digestion, from fiber obsessions to colon cleansing to the now almost-trendy gluten phobia. And, I’ll just throw this out there, she stuck her arm into a cow’s stomach. Through a specially made "cow window" that the cow didn’t seem to mind. Up to her elbow.

There is no nuance of this topic that is off limits for Roach – from fecal transplants, coprophagia, and the function of flatulence to Elvis' chronic and probably fatal constipation, she er…sniffs out and, by her own admission, sometimes badgers sources to spill what they know and corroborate her findings. E.g., Dr. Rosenbluth:

"Think of it," said Robert Rosenbluth, a doctor whose acquaintance I made at the start of this book. "No engineer could design something as multifunctional and fine-tuned as an anus. To call someone an asshole is really bragging him up."

As a former journalist, I’m continually in awe of the quotes this woman gets.

Get it, read it, and then read all her other books too. In the end (ha), you’ll be smarter, humbler and your sides will hurt from laughing. Seriously. You’ll actually learn a lot about the digestive process, because Gulp is a superior example of science journalism.


*Like this one: "Meaning 'by way of the anus.' 'Per Annum,' with two n's, means 'yearly.' The correct answer to the question, 'What is the birthrate per anum?' is zero (one hopes)."

Or this one: "I challenge you to find a more innocuous sentence containing the words sperm, suction, swallow, and any homophone of seaman. And then call me up on the homophone and read it to me."

Room

By Emma Donoghue

4 out of 5 stars

Another reviewer compared Room to the Italian film Life is Beautiful, which is kind of a bummer, because I had the same thought. But I’m going to continue with it anyway. In the film, which is more about love than war, a father shields his young son from the horrors of being in a concentration camp by telling him that they’re really just playing a game, and that everyone in the camp is playing too. And the kid buys it – kind of like we used to believe in Santa and the Easter Bunny. What’s amazing about the movie is how viewers are almost forced to experience the horror of the situation through the whimsical filter of a child. You can almost taste the father’s desperation – and you wonder if he would have survived at all were it not for his fierce determination to protect his son.

Room is kind of like that, only, you know, without Nazis. Kidnapped seven years ago, Jack’s mother (Ma) is being held prisoner in a fortified, soundproof garden shed. She is supplied with the minimal “comforts” to survive by her captor, a (surprisingly) peripheral character who visits at night for sex and that’s about it. Her will to survive is fueled in large part by her innate need to raise and preserve the innocence of her son.

And so far, it’s working.

Ma gave birth to Jack five years ago in the shed, so Jack has no concept of life beyond a place he doesn’t even know is a prison. His happy life is filled with games and routines -- screaming at Skylight once a day, counting pieces of cereal to eat, chores and lessons with Ma, and (still!) breast feeding – that are totally normal for him. For Jack, “Outside” is a noun that’s beyond his scope of understanding. He’s only seen daylight through Skylight (everything in the shed is a gender-specific proper noun – Skylight, Table, Bed,…), and, though he’s been exposed to TV, none of it, in his mind, is real. We know this, because the entire story is told from his perspective. And this is where some reviewers lost faith. I, however, thought it worked brilliantly, and I was completely drawn into Jack’s 11’x11’ world while still maintaining a peripheral perspective of the horror his mother was actually going through, and had been going through for the past seven years.

As Ma’s mental state deteriorates and she begins to hint at the reality of their situation, and as Jack’s capacity for empathy begins to develop (albeit slowly – like any five-year-old), details of the situation come into focus, and the hope of escape nudges at Ma enough to keep her from completely shutting down.

Jack’s naïve observations, his need for routine and boundaries, and his childish egotism are both poignant and, at times, hilarious. And his mom’s grit and determination to protect Jack while she struggles with her own demons is kind of fascinating too.

I don’t want to say much more about the plot, so give it a try. And for godssakes, don’t talk to strangers.

Okay for Now

by Gary D. Schmidt
4 out of 5 stars

You just want to hug this kid.

The Casual Vacancy

by J.K. Rowling
1 out of 5 stars

I really wanted to like this book, because, you know, it's J.K. Rowling. But (and I feel bad saying this, I really do), I couldn't even finish it, I was so bored. When I wasn't bored, I was confused by all the characters I didn't care about. Where's Voldemort when you need him?!

Goldberg Variations

by Susan Isaacs
3.5 out of 5 stars

There is virtually no action in this book, but I LOVED the dialogue, especially thoughts, both spoken and unspoken, of Gloria, the 79-year-old heroine of sorts. She is sassy, cranky, opinionated and an absolute hoot. And she's trying to leave her successful business, Glory, to one of three grown (and successful) grandchildren, none of whom want it. Their dysfunctional family reunion at her Santa Fe mansion is a study in self-restraint and conversation skills. This is the first of her books that I've read, and I think I'll probably check out some of her others.

The Fallback Plan

by Leigh Stein
4 out of 5 stars

I thought this was going to be a light, funny read...and it was at times, but there were also some deeper bits, and I found myself admiring Stein's writing like I would those "big name" writerly types like John Irving or Ann Tyler...if Ann Tyler or John Irving wrote a blog and posted things on Facebook.

Twenty-something Esther has moved back into her parents' house after college with a bad case of Weltschmerz (her diagnosis). In other words, she already world weary and apathetic...or maybe just depressed, hard to tell. At any rate, she's got no drive, but her droll observations and recollections of how she got to where she is are hilarious.

Without giving too much away, she reluctantly takes a nanny-ish position for a family that has lost a child, and as she gets more and more involved with each family member, the book takes a more serious and thoughtful turn. The little girl she cares for is possibly my favorite character -- I wanted her to be more involved in the story.

Let's Pretend This Never Happened

by Jenny Lawson
5 out of 5 stars

By far one of the funnier books I've read in a long time. Lawson is a blogger and writes like one, but this is a good thing. Her story telling is crisp and engaging while still endearingly meandering; you really come away thinking this is a person you might like to have as a friend or at least a pen pal. Her mostly true memoir is bluntly honest and at times makes you squirm a little from its in-your-face forthrightness (is that a word?), but you can't help but admire her guts and determination. Behind all the cathartic humor is a lot of angst, pain and at times crippling anxiety that she faces if not head on, then with a gimlet eye. Some people found the occasional* swear word off putting, but I have no patience for that sort of prissy decree. Lawson swears and swears well with comedic timing (placement) that is artful. Get it, read it, and be warned you might wet your pants a little.

*OK, several times a page

Something Missing

by Matthew Dicks
3 out of 5 stars

This was quirky and fun, but a little slow going at times. Definitely an interesting premise (a thief who only steals things people won't notice), and his relationships (even if they're in his own head) with his "clients," are more touching than creepy. I'd still recommend it for a light read as long as you're OK with not having a lot of page-turning suspense.

Snowflower and the Secret Fan

by Lisa See
4 out of 5 stars

If you were ever put into time out or even spanked as a kid, this book will make you grateful that something that was presumably "for your own good" didn't involve physical mutilation or selling you to the highest bidder. The degree of physical and emotional abuse that children, mostly girls, endure in the name of culture and tradition is tragic (I know...understatement of the year). It is almost a character unto itself in this story, but much less triumphant than the ways this little girl endures, survives and draws you into her world. And her relationship with her friend is sweet, touching, and delicately strong like piano wire. It's a really, really different and fascinating read that gets a little otherworldly and spiritual at times, but not so you'd roll your eyes. My mom gave this to me to read while I was recovering from knee surgery and trapped in a passive motion machine for 8 hours a day. I think she was trying to send me a subtle message to "suck it up, it could be worse." It worked.

The Miseducation of Cameron Post

by Emily Danforth

4 out of 5 stars

Another reviewer noted that this book reads more like an adult novel than YA, and I have to agree. Danforth did an amazing job of capturing the era, the mood of sun-drenched summer days, and the turmoil that goes along with that whole “coming of age” scene. Newly orphaned, newly awakened to “forbidden” feelings, and isolated in a small Montana town, it’s somewhat of a miracle that Cameron Post gets out of bed in the morning. In fact, the circumstances in Cameron’s life early on and how she truly felt were a bit underplayed, so I was left wondering how she was going to pull through. But she does, and the ensuing struggles to be “normal” when she’s feeling anything but make for a poignant story.

Danforth’s writing is a pleasure to read and at times beautiful without hitting you over the head with schmaltz. Cameron herself is the kind of kid I would have enjoyed as a best friend growing up. Relationships with her friends felt a little two dimensional at times, but then again, you could attribute that to her ongoing emotional turmoil. It’s kind of hard to forge connections when you’re constantly on guard and questioning your own soul, let alone being betrayed by someone you love. So, I take that back. I guess I was hoping for a little more introspection, given the book is written in the first person.

As the years go by, Cameron muddles through, and some of the people she meets later were among my favorites – particularly Jane Fonda, the wise, one-legged, pot growing, camera-toting camper at the “ex gay” camp that Cameron’s ridiculous Aunt Ruth sends Cameron to for “fixing.” As expected, there are more characters than Cameron who end up being fixed, or at least learning a lesson or two. And Cameron herself figures out that people who mean well can still be fucking idiots and that questioning authority is not only OK, sometimes it’s necessary. On the feel-good side, she also learns how to celebrate the nuances of love and its many forms and what it means to both give and receive friendship. Highly recommend.