RIP Ursula LeGuin and Peter Mayle, Well Read, Then Dead by Terrie Farley Moran, Death is Like a Box of Chocolates by Kathy Aarons and Love and Other Consolation Prizes by Jamie Ford

I've been reading Ursula LeGuin's ground breaking science fiction since 1969/70. I was heartbroken to learn of her death on Monday. I'd met and spoken to her at book events in Seattle three times, and each time she was so feisty and brilliant, she inspired every female wordsmith in the crowd. The first time I met her was at the Seattle Book Festival in 1993 or 94, where Studs Terkel was the guest of honor that everyone was fawning over. LeGuin gave a blistering speech after a Q&A with Terkel about women writers getting ignored for book awards and reviews, while mediocre male writers could get plenty of ink, based on gender alone. I remember her saying that over 80 percent of the awards for fiction went to male writers, and nearly all of the reviews in major publications, like the New York Times Book Review, were for male authors, as if women writers were all hobbyists and 'chick lit' or genre writers not to be taken seriously. She noted how bizarre this was because there were more female than male writers at the time, and female writers sold more books than male writers. Her like will not be seen again, but we are fortunate to have the legacy of her amazing science fiction and fantasy. RIP.

 Acclaimed Fantasy Writer Ursula K. Le Guin Has Died at 88

Ursula K. Le Guin

http://www.shelf-awareness.com/ct/uz3642037Biz35796999,

"the immensely popular author who brought literary depth and a

tough-minded feminist sensibility to science fiction and fantasy," as

the New York Times put it, died at her home in Portland, Ore., on

Monday. She was 88 and had been in poor health for several months.

She wrote more than 20 novels, a dozen books of poetry, more than 100

short stories, seven collections of essays and 13 children's books. She

also translated five books and wrote a guide for writers. Among her

best-known works were The Left Hand of Darkness (1969) and the Earthsea

series.

"Le Guin embraced the standard themes of her chosen genres: sorcery and

dragons, spaceships and planetary conflict," the Times wrote. "But even

when her protagonists are male, they avoid the macho posturing of so

many science fiction and fantasy heroes. The conflicts they face are

typically rooted in a clash of cultures and resolved more by

conciliation and self-sacrifice than by swordplay or space battles....

"Le Guin's fictions range from young-adult adventures to wry

philosophical fables. They combine compelling stories, rigorous

narrative logic and a lean but lyrical style to draw readers into what

she called the 'inner lands' of the imagination. Such writing, she

believed, could be a moral force."

Le Guin was wonderfully direct and outspoken in her commentary on

society and modern life--and the book world. In 2014, when she won the

National Book Foundation's Medal for Distinguished Contribution to

American Letters, Le Guin said she was sharing the award

http://www.shelf-awareness.com/ct/uz3642037Biz35797000 "with all

the writers excluded from literature for so long--my fellow authors of

fantasy and science fiction, writers of the imagination, who for the

last 50 years watched the beautiful awards go to the so-called realists.

I think hard times are coming when we will be wanting the voices of

writers who can see alternatives to how we live now and can see through

our fear-stricken society and its obsessive technologies to other ways

of being and even imagine some real grounds for hope. We will need

writers who can remember freedom--poets, visionaries, the realists of a

larger reality."

She added: "Books are not just commodities. The profit motive is often

in conflict with the aims of art. We live in capitalism, its power seems

inescapable--so did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be

resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin

in art and very often in our art, the art of words."

Last December, in a q&a

http://www.shelf-awareness.com/ct/uz3642037Biz35797001 in

Shelf Awareness, for No Time to Spare: Thinking About What Matters, an

essay collection, she was asked, "What works of fantasy present a

realistically complex vision of a world in balance (or of female

solidarity)?"

She answered: "Trying to think about this, I realized that I was not

coming up with any fantasy that presents a realistically complex vision

of a world in balance, maybe because we are so unbalanced at this point

that imagining a real balance, even if fantasy, is not possible.

"As for a world of feminine solidarity, that is questionably desirable:

solidarity is something you call on in defense or when attacking. I

would like to imagine a world of genuine equality, without stupid gender

wars and battles of the sexes, where women did not have to consolidate

against men or vice versa. I tried to sketch such a world in The

Dispossessed. But I don't think I could write that book now."

Third Place Books, Seattle, assembled a display of Le Guin titles that

included this quote from a recent Shelf Awareness interview

http://www.shelf-awareness.com/ct/uz3642037Biz35797002.

There were many tributes from the book world.

Naomi Gibbs, Le Guin's editor at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, which

published No Time to Spare, commented: "Working with Ursula was a

privilege, an honor, and a tremendous joy for me, and for many here at

HMH and elsewhere in the industry. She was an unparalleled writer who

lived an extraordinary life. She's leaving behind an incomparable body

of work, and her remarkable spirit."

Powell's Books, Portland, Ore., wrote: "Portland author and perennial

Powell's staff favorite Ursula K. Le Guin passed away on Monday at the

age of 88. Renowned for her gorgeous and deeply intelligent

contributions to the science fiction and fantasy genres, Le Guin was

also a pithy observer of American culture and a fierce advocate for

freedom of expression. Rest in peace, Ursula K. Le Guin. Powell's and

readers everywhere will miss you."

I also loved the work of Peter Mayle, whose French books were hilarious and heartwarming.

Obituary Note: Peter Mayle

Peter Mayle

http://www.shelf-awareness.com/ct/uz3642037Biz35740402,

"an Englishman who started a writing career in his 30s with

sex-education books for children before making a spectacularly

successful switch to the travel memoir genre with A Year in Provence,"

died January 18, the New York Times reported. He was 78. Knopf

http://www.shelf-awareness.com/ct/uz3642037Biz35740403 has published

Mayle's books since A Year in Provence was released in the U.S. in 1990.

His most recent book, The Diamond Caper, was released in 2015.

In 1987, Mayle and his wife, Jennie, moved to the village of

Mnerbes in Provence. Although he had planned to write a novel,

"with renovations to the 18th-century stone farmhouse they had bought in

full swing, he kept getting distracted. His agent finally told him to

shelve the novel and write about the distractions," the Times noted. The

book's British publisher, Hamish Hamilton, ordered only 3,000 copies,

but the book "just kept selling, reaching the million-copy mark in

England and 600,000 in the United States." It was adapted into a TV

miniseries starring John Thaw and Lindsay Duncan.

Mayle's books include a sequel, Toujours Provence, as well as Encore

Provence, A Good Year, A Dog's Life, Hotel Pastis, Acquired Tastes, The

Marseille Caper, and The Corsican Caper, along with the children's

titles Where Did I Come From? and What's Happening to Me?. In 2002, he

was honored as a Chevalier de la Legion d'Honneur for his contributions

to French culture.

Recently Facebook has had lists of "the best books of 2017" and "books to look forward to in 2018," followed by lists that break down "books you will love if you like..." lists. I am a huge sucker for book reviews and lists of genre fiction, so I indulged and then signed into my King County Library System account and put a ton of books on hold, since I am never really sure of the quality of fiction on these lists. Hence, when I read on a list of "books about bookstores with female protagonists" I jumped in and put 4 books on hold right away. The following are two of those, which are in mass market paperback form, and about as fluffy and easy to read as you'd imagine. I think they appeal to women on the go, who want to be able to read a chapter whenever they get a moment, like waiting in line or at the doctor's office. 

Well Read, Then Dead by Terrie Farley Moran is the story of two women, Sassy and Bridget, who own a cafe/bookstore in Florida called "Read Em and Eat." Because these are "cozy" mysteries, you can always count on several things, the first being that wherever they take place is going to be talked up as being a wonderful place to live and work, full of delightful characters and close friendships/relationships. There's always a body, of course, and the protagonists are always going rogue and "helping" the police solve the whodunnit because they're always convinced that they can do a better job than the police, and of course that they're smarter and in no danger from the murderer, though these last two items prove to be patently false. Here's the blurb: Nestled in the barrier islands of Florida’s Gulf Coast, Fort Myers Beach is home to Mary “Sassy” Cabot and Bridget Mayfield—owners of the bookstore café, Read ’Em and Eat. But when they’re not dishing about books or serving up scones, Sassy and Bridgy are keeping tabs on hard-boiled murder.
Read ’Em and Eat is known for its delicious breakfast and lunch treats, along with quite a colorful clientele. If it’s not Rowena Gustavson loudly debating the merits of the current book club selection, it’s Miss Augusta Maddox lecturing tourists on rumors of sunken treasure among the islands. It’s no wonder Sassy’s favorite is Delia Batson, a regular at the Emily Dickinson table. Augusta’s cousin and best friend Delia is painfully shy—which makes the news of her murder all the more shocking.
No one is more distraught than Augusta, and Sassy wants to help any way she can. But Augusta doesn’t have time for sympathy. She wants Delia’s killer found—and she’s not taking no for an answer. Now Sassy is on the case, and she’d better act fast before there’s any more trouble in paradise.Includes a buttermilk pie recipe! 

There are, literally, dozens of these play on words, or pun-titled mysteries being published in MM paperbacks every 6 months to a year, and they always involve food in some way and always include a recipe at the end, which has become really annoying to readers like myself who don't give a fig for some recipe we will never make. They're so formulaic that they're nearly interchangeable, so its never hard to figure out who committed the crime, well before the end. So it was with this book, which made Fort Myers sound like a great town, when I know, from having lived in Florida, that it's a nondescript place that is as boring and grubby as most of the towns in Florida. These two women never discuss the difficulty of keeping books from warping in the humid heat, or keeping the myriad of bugs out of the store because bugs in Florida are voracious and will eat anything, including paper books and the glue that binds them (I never bought a book in Florida without first shaking it, hard, to get the roaches, or silverfish, or other bugs out of it before I took it home.) Still, the part about crabby, grumpy old retirees being a pain rang true, and Sassy isn't quite as stupid and reckless as the heroine from the next book, "Death is Like a Box of Chocolates." The prose is simple and the plot breezy, but this kind of reading is as satisfying as fluffy cotton candy. Sassy is not too bright, and kind of wimpy, but she eventually gets the job done. I'd give it a C+, and recommend it to anyone who wants something to read on a long airplane flight or boat trip.

Death Is Like a Box of Chocolates by Kathy Aarons is another formulaic cozy mystery, this time set in West Riverdale, Maryland (the towns are always fake, but the states are real). The protagonists are, again, two women, Erica and Michelle, who own a bookstore and chocolate shop called Chocolates and Chapters. Michelle, like Sassy from the previous mystery, isn't too bright, but her bookstore owner best friend is (but she's often made fun of in the novel for using "snob" words, that is words with more that one syllable, and Michelle is supposed to be seen as more charming and accessible because she's a child-hating ninny who snivels and whines and quakes in her boots with cowardice on a regular basis), so she has someone to organize a list of potential suspects when her neighboring business owner is killed. Here's the blurb:

Whether it’s to satisfy a craving for chocolate or pick up the hottest new bestseller, the locals in charming West Riverdale, Maryland, are heading to Chocolates and Chapters, where everything sold is to die for…
Best friends Michelle Serrano and Erica Russell are celebrating the sweet rewards of their combined bookstore and chocolate shop by hosting the Great Fudge Cook-off during the town’s Memorial Day weekend Arts Festival. But success turns bittersweet when Main Street’s portrait photographer is found dead in their store, poisoned by Michelle’s signature truffles.
As suspicion mounts against Michelle, her sales begin to crumble and her career seems whipped. With Erica by her side, Michelle must pick through an assortment of suspects before the future of their dream store melts away…

The dead person in this book is Denise, whereas in the previous one it's Delia, so it would appear these authors are charged with making alliterative dead people whenever possible.  I have the feeling that there are actually only two or three authors writing these little paperback mysteries, and they just change their pen names to suit the next little fake town's atmosphere and characters and "crime fighting female duo." The Hallmark Channel is making bank off of bringing some of these cozy mysteries to life, but even those short movies are formulaic and get pretty boring after you've watched a couple of episodes on the "Hallmark Movies and Mysteries" channel. There is always a female sleuth who has a "real" job that somehow intersects with a love of mysteries and crime solving, and she always has a second banana/sidekick who helps her, reluctantly, while also doing all the things that the protagonist seems incapable of doing, like looking after children or minding the store (or bookkeeping, or working on the computer, or making sensible choices about staying out of harms way). There is also always a handsome guy or two around to "court" the female protagonist, so that we know she's not some dried up old maid, heaven forfend, but she's "just like us" regular women and can't live her life without male attention (insert eye rolling here).   The same goes for these two books, and in this one, a handsome author sets his sights on the "pixie" like Michelle, even nicknaming her "Berry" because she has strawberry blonde hair and freckles (gag). Of course any woman with power and agency is evil, and dim-witted Michelle ends up catching the murderers and putting them behind bars, but not before she puts herself in the line of fire. I'd give this one a C, because it seemed to revel in Michelle's weakness, immaturity and stupidity. I would only recommend it to someone who can't live without chocolate, and wants to read about how chocolate candy is made between murders.

Love and Other Consolation Prizes by Jamie Ford, a local author who has become famous for writing about the Asian immigrant experience in historic Seattle, is the third book of his I've read, after his famous "Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet" (which was mounted as a play by Book it Rep Theater) and Songs of Willow Frost. Because I loved Hotel at the Corner..., I feel compelled to read every book Ford puts out, and because I also find Asian history fascinating (and now that I live in this area, there is a rich vein of immigrant history to mine) I am a sucker for buying his novels soon after they debut in expensive hardback form. In this novel, Ford takes on dual time frames with the same character who was brought to America via boat in 1902, sold into servitude in 1909 (at the Yukon Pacific Worlds Fair) and when we catch up with him in 1962, he's driving people to the Seattle World's Fair and watching the Space Needle go up, putting Seattle on the map as a going concern in the future. Here's the blurb:

From the bestselling author of Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet comes a powerful novel, inspired by a true story, about a boy whose life is transformed at Seattle’s epic 1909 World’s Fair.

For twelve-year-old Ernest Young, a charity student at a boarding school, the chance to go to the World’s Fair feels like a gift. But only once he’s there, amid the exotic exhibits, fireworks, and Ferris wheels, does he discover that he is the one who is actually the prize. The half-Chinese orphan is astounded to learn he will be raffled off—a healthy boy “to a good home.”
The winning ticket belongs to the flamboyant madam of a high-class brothel, famous for educating her girls. There, Ernest becomes the new houseboy and befriends Maisie, the madam’s precocious daughter, and a bold scullery maid named Fahn. Their friendship and affection form the first real family Ernest has ever known—and against all odds, this new sporting life gives him the sense of home he’s always desired.
But as the grande dame succumbs to an occupational hazard and their world of finery begins to crumble, all three must grapple with hope, ambition, and first love.
Fifty years later, in the shadow of Seattle’s second World’s Fair, Ernest struggles to help his ailing wife reconcile who she once was with who she wanted to be, while trying to keep family secrets hidden from their grown-up daughters.
Against a rich backdrop of post-Victorian vice, suffrage, and celebration, Love and Other Consolations is an enchanting tale about innocence and devotion—in a world where everything, and everyone, is for sale.

Ford's prose is golden, light and elegant without getting bogged down in too much historic detail. His plots are metered and never lag. Yet the heavy and uncomfortable subject matter of child slavery and prostitution (and the subsequent horrors of untreated venereal disease) distract from his usual jovial tone because you can't really make such horrors seem charming, though not for want of trying on Ford's part. So while I loved Yun/Ernest's quest for a better life free from slavery, prejudice and want, I found his love of both the Madam's daughter Maisie and Fahn/Gracie the prideful Japanese prostitute, grotesque and bizarre, almost obsessively frightening. The fact that he makes a choice between them out of necessity, and that he still regrets that choice decades later because his wife is riddled with syphilis (though the explanation of how she didn't pass it on to him or their daughters is more than a bit too convenient) is less romantic than gut wrenching. The fact that old white men got away with marrying their teenage "wards" well before the age of consent only added to my horror at the way young girls were treated as possessions to be bought and used and sold. The religious women who fight for prohibition and want to shut down the Tenderloin/Red Light District are portrayed as hypocritical, nasty and ugly creatures who are putting women and men out of work with their tissue thin morality. Though religious people did terrible things to the Native American children and the Asian and half Asian children in their care, I honestly didn't feel that the girl children were any better off selling their bodies and being turned into drug addicts so that they'd be compliant while they were gang raped by sailors. At least as servants to whites in big houses or at schools/universities, the young women wouldn't be subjected to the array of untreatable STDs, and driven to madness and death as a result. Honestly, though this was a good book about the time period of both worlds fairs, I can't say that I loved reading it, or enjoyed the storyline and the marginal HEA at the end. For that reason, I'm giving it a B-, and I would only recommend it to those with a desire to learn more about the seedy history of Seattle's brothels and their connection to Asian immigrants.