96. Harris, Charlaine. Poppy Done to Death. 288 pages. 7.25.09.


97. Kenyon, Sherrilyn. Devil May Cry. 384 pages. 7.28.09.

This is probably the worst Dark-Hunter book I've read so far. I understand that plots thin as series like this continue, but despite my own tolerance for the ridiculous I was rolling my eyes by the second chapter.

95. Eugenides, Jeffrey. Middlesex. 529 pages. 7.23.09.

I finally returned to Middlesex after a false start in March; at the time I just didn't find the novel interesting, and stopped reading before Desdemona and Lucky reached America. However, I decided to return to the narrative, largely because I am anticipating a visit from the out-of-town friend who originally loaned me her copy.

I know many readers consider Middlesex to be a work of genius, and have read several gushing reviews singing its praise. My own experiences with Eugenides' novel aren't nearly as overwhelmingly positive. I greatly appreciate the point of view of the text, and the dignity with which Eugenides approaches a sensitive subject. As an author, he seems to show a great deal of respect for heavy issues such as gender determination and hermaphroditism; while the subject itself remains a bit of a taboo, Eugenides does not make a sideshow of his main character, but instead humanizes Cal in a way that allows readers to sympathize as people working through the human condition rather than members of some gendered scale looking down on the "other".

But, as I said, my reading was not entirely positive. I felt that Eugenides relied far too heavy on textual information, and the novel is often crowded by the introduction of an academic narrative style. Fascinating passages and interesting anecdotes are often followed by pedantic prose that is intended more to display the author's skill than to supplement the narrative of the character. Likewise, the premise of the novel itself often feels far too contrived, and I found myself drawn more by passages focused Cal as a teenager and adult than to the convoluted history Middlesex constructs. While I'm sure such familial histories exist, the attention focused on specific details made me feel like Eugenides is trying too hard to force his audience to accept his narrative, as opposed to having confidence that the novel itself will sweep his readers away.

In the end I am glad I gave Middlesex a second chance, and I am happy to have made my way through it.

94. Feynman, Richard P. The Pleasure of Finding Things Out. Ed. Jeffrey Robbins. 257 pages. 7.18.09.

Richard Feynman's The Pleasure of Finding Things Out is a collection of interviews, lectures, and other short works written by the Nobel Prize winning physicist. The volume, wonderfully and unobtrusively edited by Jeffrey Robbins, covers a wide range of materials that gives readers a sense not only of the scientist, but of the man; in the included works the audience is treated to stories of Feynman's childhood, his experiences and hijinks while working at Los Alamos during WWII, formal lectures and speeches on various scientific subjects, and a healthy dash of humor and personality throughout.

I was intimidated to read the work, as I fully acknowledge my lack of competency in subjects like mathematics and physics, but my husband (a great admirer of Feynman) promised me I wouldn't get lost in the physics, so I gave it a try. And yes, I did get lost at time - although more so when Feynman discussed nanotechnology than anything else - but I found it very easy to pick up the narrative again if I didn't get myself worked up over understanding the specifics of the material. I wasn't reading The Pleasure of Finding Things Out to understand physics and nanotechnology; I was reading the work to understand a little more about one of my husband's heroes, and the volume accomplished just that. Even for someone with only a marginal interest in Feynman's actual work I found The Pleasure of Finding Things Out to be quite charming.

92. Kenyon, Sherrilyn. Unleash the Night. 384 pages. 7.15.09.


93. Kenyon, Sherrilyn. Dark Side of the Moon. 384 pages. 7.16.09.

91. Blumenfeld-Kosinksi, Renate. Not of Woman Born: Representations of Caesarean Birth in Medieval and Renaissance Culture. 153 pages. 7.12.09.


Renate Blumenfeld-Kosinkski's Not of Woman Born is an historical examination of a subject which remains taboo at times even today: the representation of and cultural attitudes towards Cesarean-sections. The focus of the study is Medieval Europe's emerging and evolving approach to "c-sections", at a time when the procedures are first being documented in medical texts and the survival of mothers is first rumored. Indeed, a large part of the controversy surround Cesareans as the surgery developed is whether or not they could and should be preformed on living mothers, and whether or not the surgery would cause death or future sterility.

The text itself is fascinating; while the subject itself is medical by definition, Not of Woman Born is an historical and cultural study as opposed to a medical text. Blumenfeld-Kosinski traces the evolution of obstetrics, and it's amazing to see how many attitudes and ideas persist to this day. She utilizes all of the (admittedly limited) information available to her, and presents studies of not only medical texts, but illuminations, stories, and popular Medieval culture as well. While I found the text difficult to follow in a few places (largely for a lack of knowledge of Latin or French), the study is neatly organized and illustrated, and thoroughly analyzed.

89. Adrian, Lara. Kiss of Midnight. 432 pages. 7.10.09.


90. Oakley, Annie (ed). Working Sex: Sex Workers Write about a Changing Industry. 301 pages. 7.12.09.

The body of work that comprises Annie Oakley's Working Sex is really a mixed bag - and not necessarily what the subtitle and back cover promise. Within the volume Oakley has included a wide range of literary genres that moves beyond the expected personal accounts to short stories, rants, poetry, a short play, and even an interview with a political advocate of women in the sex industry. When I purchased the volume I expected to find a collection of nonfiction work focused on different experiences and viewpoints of individuals working in the sex industry, and instead found that many of the authors included seem to be using their experience as sex professionals as an excuse to write material that would otherwise find little audience. As such, most of the material is greatly lacking in merit, and does not have the strength of reality and first-person narration to support the lack of effort. In general, most of the collection is simply bad writing: bad poetry, pointless ranting, and armature stories.

However, not all of the material is mediocre. There are several strong essays and stories included within the work, including Annie Oakley's own introduction and Siobhan Brooks' "An Interview with Gloria Lockett ", that make a reading of the volume worthwhile. As a complete collection I find Working Sex to be wanting, and a reader's enjoyment will really come down to each individual work.

88. Showalter, Elaine. The Female Malady: Women, Madness and English Culture, 1830-1980. 250 pages. 7.8.09.

Elaine Showlater's The Female Malady: Women, Madness and English Culture, 1830-1980 is a brilliant discussion of the perception and treatment of mental illness, focusing on the female perspective. Showalter's research is thorough, and her presentation of information shows a care and attentiveness to her material that increases the confidence of the reader. Drawing on a cultural sangria of material, The Female Malady traces the systematic (and often blundering) treatment of mental disease, focusing on how women influenced the establishment as not only patients, but commentators in the form of employees and writers, activists and advocates.

The majority of the text focuses on the plight of the Victorian woman, and how doctors and the medical profession responded to what they perceived as the nervous energy attached to the rising discontent of women as a gendered class. However, the text does not end there, and moves on to discuss everything from evolving practices in institutions, the feminization of mental disease, the presence and treatment of male patients, psychoanalysis, and the feminist therapy movement. Showalter skillfully blends historical observation and study with careful literary analysis to give her reader and understanding of the material from several angles and increase their awareness of the historical implications of insanity not just for the evolution of women, but for the sciences and literary fields alike. At just 250 pages, The Female Malady is by no means a complete history, but proves to be a useful volume on its own, especially for those considering cultural and literary implications of insanity beyond the straight-forward studies of psychology or psychoanalytic theory.

86. Harris, Charlaine. Last Scene Alive. 224 pages. 7.4.09.


87. Hall, Traci. Her Wiccan, Wiccan Ways. 240 pages. 7.5.09.

I found my mind wandering yesterday and went hunting for a quick entertaining read. I stumbled across a number of horror/fantasy books for the Kindle that Amazon is promoting for free, and figured that if they were horrible at least the price was right.

Traci Hall's young adult novel is one of three of the "cheesy" books I downloaded, and it worked well for my wandering brain. Given what it is (a paranormal young adult novel), Her Wiccan, Wiccan Ways isn't nearly as bad as the title first lead me to believe. In fact, the title seems to be a bit misleading: the subject of Wicca is relevant to the book only as much as it functions as a part of the main character's history, as she (Rhiannon) struggles with typical teenage melodrama (such as having unusual parents and moving to a new area) and typical teenage paranormal plot twists (physic powers - which she prefers to explain scientifically - and a resident ghost).

I can easily see Hall's book finding a wide and willing audience for today's youth, especially in light of the success of popular YA fantasy series such as Harry Potter and Twilight.

84. Harris, Charlaine. Dead Over Heels. 272 pages. 7.3.09.


85. Harris, Charlaine. A Fool and His Honey. 272 pages. 7.3.09.

Incomplete Reads of 50 pages or more:

1. Urrea, Luis Alberto. The Hummingbird's Daughter. 10 chapters (approx. 118 pages). 7.3.09.

I am sorry to say that after ten chapters I am putting down Luis Alberto Urrea's The Hummingbird's Daughter. The novel itself is beautifully written and promises to be incredibly powerful and meaningful for those who are able to make it to the end. I picked up the novel at the suggestion of several LibraryThing members, and I do not deny that their praise is well-deserved.

So why am I abandoning the book before I finish it? Personal difficulty - I find myself less and less able to focus on the narrative itself as I trip over foreign dialog, words I don't understand, and names I'm afraid I'm mispronouncing. While I am confident that Urrea's use of native dialog is quite appealing to many readers, I personally find it to be a stumbling block that has grown harder to ignore as I continue the book. However, because I recognize that as a flaw in myself, as opposed to a flaw on the part of the author, I still feel confident giving (what I read of) The Hummingbird's Daughter four stars.

82. Harris, Charlaine. The Julius House. 240 pages. 6.30.09.


83. Yalom, Marilyn. A History of the Breast. 279 pages. 7.2.09.

I first came across A History of the Breast while researching the evolution of the corset for a graduate term paper. Immediately intrigued by the straight-forward title and various brief reviews, I picked up the book with the intention of diving in at the earliest possible opportunity. Of course, that opportunity didn't seem to come until about 2.5 years later.

Marilyn Yalom's A History of the Breast is a fascinating work focusing on, obviously, the cultural evolution of the perception of the breast. Yalom's text moves chronologically and pulls from any and all material available, from statues to literature and pamphlets, to advertisements and modern social movements. While I was personally most interested in her examination of the breast as it evolved from "The Sacred Breast" of ancient civilizations to "The Domestic Breast" of the Dutch, the text attempts to cover a wide range of subjects extending into politics, psychology, and commercialism.

What I feel is an unfortunate flaw in Yalom's work is her assumptive attitude towards her reader; she assumes that her audience consists solely of other feminist scholars, and seems to be writing directly to them as opposed to a wider audience of scholars and enthusiasts. While very little of the work actually seems to rely on feminist theory and interpretation, Yalom's historical analysis at times appears to be overly-hostile to her subjects (specifically those of the Renaissance) while providing no academic basis for such hostility within this individual work. As a student and instructor of literature, I found her treatment of English literature particularly troubling; it seems to detract from the strength of the writing, as it reduces great works to rather shallow interpretations. Of course, feminist theory is an academically rich field in and of itself, and it's just as likely that my own ignorance of Yalom's field is as at fault for my discomfort as the text itself.

Overall, I was very pleased with A History of the Breast and the wealth of information and insight it provided. Yalom's style is easy to read, and logically presented in such a way as to build the reader's understanding as the book progresses. For anyone interested in gender studies, women's history, breasts and breastfeeding, the female form in art and culture, or the evolution of women's clothing I would certainly recommend this book.