I’ve already written my requisite April baseball book review, but after finishing Will Leitch’s new book Are We Winning? the other night, I decided I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention it. Leitch’s last book,  God Save the Fan, was a drive-by-shooting of sports anecdotes and pop culture references, blasting away with well-aimed snark at ESPN and the mainstream sports media. When I saw Leitch had another book coming out, I figured it’d be more of the same, just directed at the baseball community. And there’s a place for that, to be sure, but I find snark something to be consumed in small quantities.

I was surprised, then, to find that Leitch has attempted something a bit more difficult: a book about baseball and fathers. Let me rephrase that — he’s attempted something that’s a bit more difficult to do well. It’s not terribly difficult to write about baseball and fathers; the two subjects are so enmeshed in the psyche of every American male that ever played (or coached) t-ball that it’s harder to separate the two ideas than to conjoin them. The problem, as with other seemingly obvious concepts, is that it’s so familiar to us, that we are so ready to travel down well-worn mental paths, it becomes almost impossible to avoid the ready cliches and pithy truisms attached to the ideas.

Leitch accomplishes something more than cliches and truisms. The structure of the book follows a trip Leitch took with his father and family friend to see a 2008 game between the Cardinals and the Cubs, but it’s the moments between the bits of baseball that push the book along. It’s refreshing to see a writer deliver an honest portrayal of his father without lapsing into psychological blame-shifting or whitewashed hagiography. There are momentary self-indulgences — I know more about Will Leitch’s Little League career than I probably need to — but they are forgivable, and most of the personal anecdotes serve the purpose of the book well enough.

While writing the book, Will Leitch requested that readers send in their own memories and stories of baseball and fatherhood. Leitch and his wife read through them all, and then selected pieces to open each chapter. I looked forward to the beginning of each chapter — the paragraph or two reinforced the universal experience from a slightly different, uniquely personal perspective. Some of the stories are funny, some of them are sad, and a few of them were both funny and sad in unexpected ways, like the father who purchased a left-hander’s glove for his son (reasoning that right-handed folks should wear their baseball gloves on their right hands) and forced his son through half of the Little League season throwing with the wrong hand before the coach realized what had happened.

There’s a little too much mythologizing about the Cubs-Cardinals rivalry for this Tigers fan, but I can’t begrudge any true baseball fan the right to talk excessively about his or her hometown team. For example, as this is my blog, I feel fine letting you know that the Tigers have won 5 in a row and are just a half-game back from the AL Central division lead. You may not care, but I do. And if you care about baseball, or ever cared about baseball, then Are We Winning? is worth a read, to be reminded that for most fans, baseball didn’t start with multimillion dollar salaries, steroid allegations, and luxury taxes — it began with a game of catch in the backyard, or t-ball season, or a trip to the minor-league park to see real baseball for the first time.

Does anybody recognize the room in this picture?  I hope not, because if it’s recognizable then it means it still looks messy.  I was recently given the task of cleaning it up – a task that involved no small amount of dust, sweat, tears, etc, and so for that reason if not any others, I want to give it some attention here.

So anyway, it’s the First Editions room!  For anyone who doesn’t know what/where that is, it’s the room on your right when you walk through Lemuria’s main entrance.  It also functions as the semi-office of Joe and John and so for that reason I think lots of people think they can’t browse around in there, which is completely not true.  It’s part of the store just like any other section.  If you can put up with a bit of clutter, a liberal approach to the alphabet, and of course the company of Joe and John, then I encourage you to pay a visit to the FE room.

Before I worked with books in any capacity, I don’t think I completely understood the allure of first editions.  I still don’t have that many, but one of my favorites is Music of the Swamp, by Lewis Nordan.  It was a gift from a friend, and after it was given to me, something clicked.  I don’t know.  These books are just really, really special, with the added bonus of having fantastic covers (see Sharpshooter Blues up there? !!).  I suppose what I’m trying to say is I don’t think you have to be a huge book-collecting enthusiast with lots of money to drop to appreciate FEs.  If nothing else, they’re fun to look at.

Also fun to look at, and also in the FE room, are Advanced Reader Copies – it’s hard to miss this ARC of Libra:

I took loads of pictures and I could put them all up right now, but I’ll take it easy.  I suppose I just wanted everybody to know that yes! the First Editions room is open for browsing and is hopefully more accessible than it was a month or so ago.  Lemuria is full of first editions – many of them signed, it’s worth noting – so come and have a look!

Susie

I had a great time chatting with Elise Blackwell when she came to Lemuria last night to sign copies of her new book, An Unfinished Score.

I haven’t read the novel yet but I know something of the story, so I was curious to know whether or not she was as immersed in the world of music as her characters are.  I found out that she played the viola in middle school, but, she says, she was a smidge atonal, and gave up playing after two years.  I love music, but I will readily admit to my own lack of any sort of talent; I played in middle school as well — the trumpet, that brash and sometimes inelegant instrument, qualities which my playing made even more apparent.  But to be a writer (and even a reader) is to be given permission to dive into a world that may otherwise be foreign to you. The prose of An Unfinished Score dips and soars like a well-crafted composition, accompanying the character’s struggles with a distinct cadence.  Knowing little about musical performance, and even less about composition, while reading the novel one can feel as though they are a part of the world of music.

I have a friend who is getting her masters in the cello; though I don’t know anything about music, hearing her practice the incomprehensible scores she’s challenged to learn is to be given a gift.  The same can be said of a good book, one that takes you out of your own, familiar world for a while and lets you run around in one that’s “novel.”

First of all, I liked the title and the beautiful cover (be sure to take the jacket off to get the full effect)  from the moment the ARC  landed in my hand. I was not disappointed after I had read even a few chapters. Mesmerizing, captivating,  and clever The Hand That First Held Mine is indeed! So, a reader first sees the title and usually thinks about it for at least a few moments, even if unconsciously. For most of us, the hand that first held our own would be the sweet hand of our mothers. If that statement jars you, then this book is for you.  They say that nothing is as strong as a mother’s love.

Author Maggie O’Farrell centers in on this concept with this beautiful novel set in England in two different time periods, the 1950s and the present. Two stories emerge. The reader is conscious that the two families must be related or joined somehow, or otherwise what’s the point? But not until mid way through this novel does the answer of “how” become somewhat clear, and as the novel speeds up at the end, a light bulb is turned on and shines shockingly at the truth, which has been hidden from one of the characters for his entire life. And on top of all of that, both families have newborns. Those of you who know me know that my mind is on babies right now anyway, so this novel had an added interest to me for the future as well as the past, thinking about the not so long ago when my now adult children were  precious babes in my arms. My how time flies!

Two women emerge as the protagonists; the first is Lexie, a winsome, overly confident 19 year old college dropout who decides, against her family’s wishes, to move to London on her own, when this is certainly not done in the 1950s. She falls in love with an artist type, and begins a  magazine career with this 14 year older boyfriend, who happens to be separated from his wife and her 12 yr. old angry, jealous daughter. That is  how “story one” begins. The ending shall remain untold. “Story two”, set in present day London, revolves around new mother Elina, a talented painter with a  winsome garden studio, and her troubled, distraught husband who is experiencing a challenge with the  physical and psychological demands of young fatherhood. To say that memories of the recent, as well as distant past, plague  the couple’s life is an understatement.

So, I keep asking myself why this novel is “SO good”!  I usually like psychological realism, so that fits here. I also like fulfilling character development, and that fits here as well. Additionally, I like clever language, and that also fits here with the added pleasure of reading truly “English phrases” such as “bedsit”, which in England means “apartment”. (The author, a mother of two and native of Wales and Scotland, who currently resides in London, two years ago wrote the popular foreign fiction hit The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox, which Maggie said she liked a lot. )

One more thing, before I forget it…….the way the novel is written, that is the phraseology and diction, reminded me of  the use of the term “camera obscura” , the concept of the roving  omniscient camera seeing all, with the dedicated use of the present tense. It’s been some time since I have read a novel written in this manner, and it was very effective for me.  For instance, the author writes, “Lexie nods as if interested, but she is thinking about the bombsites she has seen around London–blackened craters choked with nettles, terraces with a sudden raw gap, windowless buildings with that sightless, vacant appearance–and she is thinking she wouldn’t go anywhere near them, wouldn’t have anything to do with them.”

I’m still thinking about the characters, and it’s been about two weeks since I savored the last few pages of this memorable novel. To me, that’s  a mark of a well written, enticing novel.  I’ll be trying to persuade customers to buy this little gem, The Hand That First Held Mine, for some time to come.  -Nan

Karl Marlantes talks about how reading helps us understand people different from ourselves and what reading Eudora Welty’s Delta Wedding meant to him. Comments on The Matterhorn are still coming in. Click here to see the latest and the comment from Karl himself!