Tuesday, March 23, 2010

The Clouds Roll Away, by Sibella Giorello (Thomas Nelson)


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FBI Special Agent Raleigh Harmon is back in Richmond, and it's about time.

In The Clouds Roll Away, our intrepid forensic geologist turned special agent finds herself once again embroiled in a racially charged federal crime. And, at first blush, everything seems normal, predictable: on the surface, the notorious Ku Klux Klan is on a crusade against a hip-hop mogul who has the audacity to move into and garishly rennovate a historically sensitive plantation along the hallowed James River; on the surface, the ensuing hate-crime events intone yet another social lamentation of 'how things are' in the South, and; on the surface, our hero's best efforts are hindered by those who can't understand her and by those who simply refuse to.

But authors as accomplished as Ms. Giorello rarely spend much time on the surface.

In her previous two books, The Stones Cry Out and The Rivers Run Dry, you could sense an underlying spiritual metaphor of the human condition like a subterranean stream flowing just close enough to the surface to disturb the soil, but not dampen your feet. In Clouds, the stream splits into multiple layers and, at the just the right times, breaks the surface of the narrative like an artesian spring. Then it gently soaks back into the storyline, leaving just enough of a remnant to moisten the path. Raleigh's story has come into its own, as has the author's skill in telling it.

Example? Perhaps the widest branch of this multi-thematic stream is the Hope of the Advent Season, whose vibrant current underlies the tale and contrasts the despair we earn when we choose to ignore it. Ms. Giorello infuses the Yuletide into the story in a variety of ways that are just plain cool. Strategically placed snippets of familiar Holiday lyrics sporadically lift our minds above the dogged grit of Raleigh's world as they briefly capture her own attention. An inexplicably resurgent Christmas spirit defeats dormancy in Raleigh's mother, Nadine, who is just emotionally unstable enough that I think we're eventually going to find out how together she actually is. Then there's...oh well, enough. You just need to read this--and not only for the message, but for the sheer enjoyment of reading Sibella Giorello.

I've noted Ms. Giorello's unique writing voice before. In Clouds she has honed it to a razor's edge. The reader's thoughts of the destination are nearly forgotten amid the joy of the journey. As an author, it's hard--not to mention a bit selfishly depressing--to grasp how this much raw action, dry wit and gutty poignancy can be finessed so seamlessly into a single story. When I grow up, I'd like to be able to write like this. Until then, I'll just tap my fingers and wait for the next book–which, oh-by-the-way, is The Mountains Bow Down, due for release next year. Not soon enough.
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Monday, March 22, 2010

Here Burns My Candle, by Liz Curtis Higgs (WaterBrook)

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Those who have read Ms. Higgs' "Lowlands of Scotland" series, in which she spirited the Biblical story of Jacob, Leah and Rachel from the pages of the Old Testament into 18th-century Scotland, will nod in agreement that historical fiction doesn't get much better. Well, you can stop nodding.
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After a finger-drumming four years since Grace in Thine Eyes, the final part of the "Lowlands" series, the Bard of the Brogue is back--and the brogue never sounded so good. Here Burns My Candle, turns the clock back 'a wee bit' from the 1760s of "Lowlands" to the Jacobite Rebellion of 1745-46 in which Bonnie Prince Charlie laid claim to the throne against King George. Caught up in the political intrigue surrounding the Rising is the family of the late Lord John Kerr. The Lady Marjorie, Lord John's widow, with her sons, Donald and Andrew, and their respective wives, Lady Elisabeth and Janet, enjoy the comfortable life of Edinburgh's nobility. The Kerrs are staunch loyalists to King George, but for one: the Lady Elisabeth, whose roots cling to the verdant soil of Prince Charlie's Highlands. All is well until the charismatic Prince Charlie shreds the delicate fabric of Scottish society, laying bare the true sentiments and loyalties of not only the Kerrs, but all of Edinburgh's populace.
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Secrets thread themselves through the Kerr family as deeply and darkly as the forest green of the clan's hunting plaid. The Lady Marjorie's hidden stash of gold, Donald's covert waywardness, and Lady Elisabeth's private devotion to the superstitious 'auld ways' of her Highlands past all come to light in their own way and in their own time. At the crux of the story, tragedy strikes, and Lady Marjorie must flee with her daughters-in-law to the Kerr's country estate in Selkirk. But what awaits them there? Sorry. You'll want to hear that from Ms. Higgs, not from me.
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Some readers of this review might recognize a similarity to another Old Testament story. There's a free copy of the book to be had for the first person who leaves a comment on this post, telling just which story that is. If you're uncertain, check the trailer below for a clue.
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Note: WaterBrook provided this copy of Here Burns My Candle for this review, as well as the giveaway copy.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Found on 16th Avenue, by Karen Roth (Watercress Press)

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Gritty and inspirational, Found on 16th Avenue brings to vibrant life the archetypical underdog we love to root for, but for whom we hold little hope.
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If anyone "didn't have a chance" at a normal life, it was Joseph Vesely. Illigitmate son of a cast-out homeless woman, Joe scratches out an existence on the streets barely this side of survival, while he watches his mother waste away from a life of abuse and alcoholism. At her passing, he is taken to live with his aunt, uncle and grandmother--a Czech family who lives in a world he didn't realize even existed, let alone understands.
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Set in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, during the 1930s, Ms. Roth immerses us in the life and times of the town's Czech community as they eke out their own existence in the throes of the Great Depression. John Mark Martin, Joe's uncle, pastors a small church during the day and provides for his family by working in a factory at night. Joe's irascible grandmother, Josephina Vesely, and his stoic aunt, Kate, struggle to maintain a meaningful family life for their two sons, Johnny and Stephen. When Joe shows up on their doorstep, the family's delicate physical, spiritual and emotional balance is put to the test. Their meager larder must stretch to fill another hungry mouth, their patience to win the emotionally scarred and withdrawn youth into their hearts, and their faith to lift him where he needs it the most.
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Ms. Roth does a fantastic job of pulling the reader into the story. Her characters are vivid and multi-dimensional, her descriptions acute. We recoil from the ambient stench of the factories along the river with John Mark as he trudges wearily home from his mid-shift. We choke and sweat through the dusty heat of a Midwestern summer as the boys chop and dig at the hard soil of the family garden. And we shiver in the sub-zero winter in the drafty house as Kate scrapes for just one more lump of coal to put in the furnace. But mostly, we hold our breaths as Joe takes one faltering step after another on the road to redemption.
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What's really great about this story, though, is that it doesn't end at the back cover. Ms. Roth has blessed the reader with the continuing story of Joe's coming of age in My Portion Forever, the sequel to 16th Avenue. Get 'em both and do what I once again failed to do: read Found on 16th Avenue first . . . (sigh!).