The Hangman's Daughter by Oliver Potzsch

Asked to read this by my boss, I complied. It was a difficult start. This is to be read by those with a strong stomach and a forgiving heart. Painful throughout, segments of torture, gross stupidity, mass hysteria are occasionally punctuated by short elements of rare human kindness.
The story takes place in the mid 1600's in rural Germany near Bavaria. Organized torture, murder and corruption rule the populace. Ignorance and superstition are so rampant, one wonders how the human race has survived. Witch trials were a thing of the past but are creeping again to the fore in this community.
The good guys are few and rules are distinctly assinine.
Strangely, the local hangman is the good guy even though he is the one charged with torturing and slaying anyone accused of upsetting the local mindset.
Predictably, the midwife, a close friend of his family, comes to be his next victim, at the insistance of the town council. Murdered children, greed and rampant fear ignite mass stupidity into quite a tangled web of deceit.
The hangman's friend, an ostracized doctor's apprentice, and the oldest daughter set about to resolve issues before the midwife is burnt.
Redeemably, for those with interest in herbs and plants, some historical information about a number of useful herbs is intrinsic to the story line.
If you have the stomach for this, it is intricately woven and well-written. Only two or three typos, and one obscure translation difficulty were encountered as I labored through this book.
If you do not know how to effectively purge hideous images from your psyche, then do not read this book. If you believe you are strong enough to handle it and come away unharmed, then enjoy the intricacy of the plotting and the scenery of the Black Forest and the depictions of buildings and a five-hundred year old community. If you are German, as am I, you may feel some shame directed toward ancient ancestors. 
If you are of a philosophical nature, it will get you wondering again as to the source of cruelty in the human species. But that's another whole topic for one of our other Blogs...
Be forewarned, this is not just a novel, it is historical fiction based upon the author's family history and genealogical  research.
Within the tale resides the evidence that although mass thought is worse than criminal intent, there does lurk within our species an element of compassion and even empathy. The ability to think for one's self is crucial to human development and social advancement. Can we grasp these fundamental necessities? Can we reach the tipping point we need to embrace the concepts we find in the acronym WWJD or the movie Avatar?
And for all my criticism, I nominate it for classic status.

The Shack by William P. Young

This book has sold millions. Personally, in the stores I have worked, I would estimate that I have myself sold over 500 copies. The author came in and found I had not read it. He basically begged me to read it. So eventually, I did. It's always good to have talking points, afterall...
The beginning was slow and dreary. The middle held some interesting metaphysical experiences, which were, for me the significant part of the book, even though they were pretty fluffy. The end sucked.
This book appeals to those who are insecure in their faith, who are filled with fear but not willing to admit to it. Not a tome of depth or great meaning, the only reason to read it is so you can converse with others in your book club or Sunday School class if they choose it as a topic.
I have not previously reviewed books I did not like, but I think it is unfair not to do so.
Victoria

The Heart and the Fist by Eric Greitens

Published this year and still in hardcover, Eric's book informs, educates and holds one's attention from first word until last. His personal story of how he went from aid-giving humanitarian to Navy Seal is a gripping and heart-warming narrative.
Eric traces his journey from  student, whose summers are spent volunteering with assorted relief agencies in Third World countries through his realizations that 'aid' is not much help at all; through his exemplary college career; his subsequent decison to join the Navy and his motivation to become a Seal to help make the world a better place.
He takes us along on his rigorous special ops training. Personally, I had no previous concept of what Navy Seal, or Army Ranger or any other special forces training encompassed. I remain in awe.
You will come away with a deeper understanding and appreciation for the value of our armed forces and the depth of the sacrifices they make for you and me, for our country and for the world.

THE SEARCH by Nora Roberts

Unlike many women, I had never read anything by Nora Roberts until now. I had falsely assumed her books were simply romantic fluff. I am not too proud to enjoy being proven wrong!
I picked this book up to show to a customer in the book store a few weeks ago, and as I handed it to her, it caught my attention. Blah blah blah...
And so, I read it. Devoured it actually.
First of all, Ms Roberts is a very good story teller and  weaves many tendrils together to create fully fleshed- out characters of many dimensions. Her characters are people I wish I knew. And one of them reminds me a bit of an old friend...
This story is a thriller, in a sense, and combines intrigue with the hard work  of training and running search and rescue dogs, and tosses in just a wee bit of romance, just to add some hoped for spice.
The 'searches' her team are called on to locate are both typical of the real world and touching in their vulnerabilities and foibles.
The dogs... well the dogs are as well-developed as the humans and as integral to every aspect of the book.
I will say no more.
Enjoy!
Best Wishes,
Victoria

ROOM by Emma Donohue

Room, by Emma Donohue: A Review

This was selling quite well on its own and I wanted to know why.

I read it, was amazed by it, and I recommend it.

We join a girl who had been kidnapped seven years prior to where the action picks up. For seven years, she has been kept isolated in a small room. Two years into her captivity, she gives birth to a boy.

The book is in his words for the most part. He is five and has never seen the outside, never seen anything but the room. The room is his world.

His mother raises him alone, teaches him, protects him from their captor, and together they make their small world into a home filled with love though it is assaulted regularly by fear.

Ms Donohue had to have been struck by a lightning bolt of genius to so thoroughly immerse herself in the mind of a five-year-old boy living under these particularly odd circumstances. She gives him voice. No, wait, he gives her voice. Anyway, she brings to the page the vibrancy and exquisite observations, beliefs and notions of a little boy, in an eloquent dialogue perforated by soliloquy and seasoned with edge-of-the-seat action.

I will not tell you more, except that if you do not read it, you will never know what a wonderful book you are missing. I hope she writes a sequel to this.

Reviewed by Victoria
Enjoy!

Dog Years: a Memoir, by Mark Doty

Thoughts on reading Mark Doty’s book Dog Years, a Memoir

I love gay men

Their singular beauty often underscores their somewhat tenuous hold on this planet.

I remember those gentle gay souls

Those rowdy funny gentlemen,

Who, throughout the years have added color to my memories.

More than any lost boyfriends, I recall the friendship of the gays

My memory is more of them,

Their influence on my life returns me to the Arts, to Beauty.

(Not to exclude others, whose rare influence has brought me delight)

But I digress

When I first went to his Web Site, the Doty Poet leapt from the screen

Now cradled in my heart

Oh beautiful man

Entrancing with your poetry

Your look at the obvious unnoticed by us all so clear, so deep so sudden

I had just finished reading

Dog Years, a Memoir

Oh what a book.

As I read, here is what I thought:

Michener could have learned from Mark

How does he see this detail?

Of what magnetic substance are his eyes made?

So deeply in touch with the depths we sail above,

He plumbs to those darkest realms below the sea of culture,

Of what’s acceptably expressed,

Shamelessly expressing what I do not allow myself to feel.

Dead dogs, dying lovers, dead relatives, grief, abandonment, loss, the missing presence

The missing piece

Missing peace

Oh yeah, but I cry and then move on without looking.

I look at memories, I look at the dead faces, I look at the dying, the rising out of body of beloved soul. But I do not examine my feelings. I cry and move on.

Mark finds the words.

Mark bothers to look and see the details of life that we are given

He does them honor through acknowledgement through expression

through speaking of the unspeakable

through ripping out his heart and placing it on the page

Letter by letter, word by word, Mark constructs the meaning of life by finding it somewhat without any given meaning.

Along the way, I say to myself,

I am not worthy to even read this book

This is a Writer.

I’m no more than a former journalist at best.

A mere jotter of simple observations.

Mark is the Summum Bonum of that which I dare not aspire

I do no great honor to all the dogs I have rescued,

for I have not given them the details of my attention

I have not given them my attention to their details

I have given them ‘a good life’ as I am assured by friends and by Russ.

These words are more, I fear, for them than me.

We excuse each other in order to excuse ourselves

There is no excuse for lack of presence.

How I very much want to be present in my now

To be with those that are in my life,

For in relationship, we are.

Outside of which, nothing?

I awoke one morning, my tongue blackened

Teeth aching from clenching through a seizure

My mouth healed. My heart and mind have not.

Where was I? I was no where, therefore, I was not.

No awareness, no consciousness of even darkness,

No light, no dark.

Without one or the other, what is there?

There was simply, no me.

At fifty-nine, the fear of death found me,

and all of my assumptions instantly degenerated into

Depression. Well, there’s another new feeling.

Yet, I continue to skim surfaces,

using words as paddles, keeping me in the current,

glossing along atop the shimmer of the stream

pretending the Stygian depths are not below.

Anyhow, read Mark Doty. He’s amazing.

Read Dog Years.

The Art of Racing in the Rain, by Garth Stein

The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein
Oh my! I was thoroughly surprised by this little book. Years ago, when it first arrived at whatever bookstore I was working in at the time, I thought ‘it must be just another dog book I will cry my way through.’ So I did not read it until this year.
I am so glad that I did! Was Mr. Stein hit by lightning or a stroke of genius? Was he channeling a wise and wonderful canine when he wrote this? I don’t have any idea, perhaps all of the above. Written entirely from the viewpoint of the dog, this book looks at the interrelationships among people and people with their domestic animals, but does not stop there! This precious novel enfolds the reader painlessly in a philosophical look at family life as seen through the soulful eyes of man’s best friend.
The dog’s ‘owner’ is, primarily a race car driver, although he also maintains a day job in a garage. He loves his dog, and as much as he does, he also loves and lives and breathes motor vehicles. The very fast kind. With dog as companion, he watches racing videos and studies the actions of each car and driver, commenting aloud to the dog, who watches beside him. He takes the dog for long drives and also to the track. The dog (as many do) loves to ride in the car. (BTW, I never would have guessed that I would read and enjoy a book dealing at all with auto racing. It’s not really ‘my thing.’)
When the family expands, the dog continues to observe: changes in behaviors, smells, emotions, are all his for the reading.
Is this dog a genius or are many of our beloved animals as observing and thoughtful of us and our milieu? His ‘conversant’ acquaintance with all aspects of racing, provide him with a measuring stick and an allegory for life with humans. The subtleties governing the driver physically and emotionally, track conditions, vehicle and other drivers and their cars become the metaphors through which the dog is able to explain to himself and the reader about life. Not just in the fast lane, but in the soft and hard pieces of family life as well.
I do not care whether you are a ‘dog person’ or not, this is a book for you; for everyone who is human.
Reviewed by
Victoria