The #1 Ladies Detective Agency

*sigh* This book was OK in a cutesy-cutesy sort of way. It was entirely too predictable. I don't recommend this as a must read.

Ambulance Girl

This one is a quick read. It's the story of a middle aged, successful, neurotic women who decides to become an volunteer EMT. It's funny at some points, sad at others. An alright read, but not one I'd call gripping or a must.

The Rule of Four

This was an excellent book. When I read the Da Vinci Code, I was fascinated by the idea of codes in works of art. This goes one better. The code is in a Renaissance book called the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili. The story is wonderful, with believable, three dimensional characters. The neatest part of it is that there really is a Hypnerotomachia Poliphili. It was published in 1499. No one knows who wrote it. You can read more about it (and the book itself) here.

A direction for my blog...

Aha! I have found it. I shall post on books. 'nuff said! :)

Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books

The weirdest thing happened on Sunday. I saw a book and bought it on a whim. When I got home, I started reading it. Now, I know that, so far, I haven't described anything strange. Anyone who knows me knows that I read books at light speed. Greedily gobbling up every word like a child with forbidden candy. I'm really not that discriminating in the books that I read. But this book, it was different. I didn't really get very far the first day. I had to put it down. It made me angry. It made me feel. That so rarely happens, those feelings caused by words on paper. I was intrigued, so I picked it up and tried again. The second time, there was anger and sadness. Two feelings! And now, I've finished it. There are so many feelings, it's so hard to explain. There's so much anger and sadness at the repression the Iranian ladies in this book suffer. There's the helplessness. There's the great respect for their courage in the face of tyranny. And, there's so much else. Most of all, though, I just feel helpless. It's odd. Here, in the US, I have great personal power. I can vote: nationally, statewide, locally. I have a choice in what I read, see, hear and wear. I choose where I work and live. I choose who I marry. I can drive, travel and move about freely. No one tells me what to think, how I should feel, how (what)to worship or what I should do. That's always been something I took for granted. I've always known that I was lucky to have these freedoms. But, it was a theoretical kind of knowing. It never seemed tangible. The women in this book had their freedoms taken away. *poof* Gone. To an American, that is the unimaginable. Worse, those freedoms disappeared in the name of religion and revolution. Devolution, maybe, but not revolution. I saw, through this book, how it would be to be robed and veiled, to be hidden away. Why? Because the mere sight of a strand of hair would be a sexual temptation to a man. What? Are men such animals that they can't control their lust? I think not. I work in a male dominated field. I come into contact with men on a daily basis. I am no raving beauty, but I'm not fugly, either. I refuse to believe that the sight of my hair, legs, or even my cleavage is enough to incite violent lust in men. I saw what it would be like to lose my voice, to become less than silent. I'd like to believe that my opinions matter. I voice them when I vote or debate with friends. But, to be ignored because of my sex, it's unimaginable. I saw what it would be to be property. To be owned, by father, brother, uncle, cousin, husband, is unacceptable to me. I'm not a car or house. I saw what it would be to be a nonperson and it saddens me. It makes me feel so helpless. I can't make their society change. I can't make them see that they do their sisters, mothers, daughters, wives such a great injustice. To be flogged, jailed or killed for wearing nail polish seems unforgivable. Oddly, if the women in this book were happy with their situation, it wouldn't bother me so much. But, they aren't happy. They know that the way they are treated isn't right. Their escape, through books, is one I understand thoroughly. Even their books are censored. Any pleasure is wrong, anathema. Does one have to suffer to be pious? Is that the lesson? Should one be forced to be pious?

The other thing that struck me about this book was how the books they read intertwined with their lives. It was interesting how they identified with different characters. I've always identified with one or more characters in any book I've read. I've mostly read western books, so it's never been a stretch for me to identify with the characters. These ladies had nothing in common with the characters of some of these books, except maybe species. Yet the purely human traits of courage, cowardice, etc., resonated with them. It proves to me that people are people, no matter what cultural background. It'll be interesting to revisit some of the books they discuss with a new perspective.

I will definitely be putting this book on the list of books my children should read. I think they need to see the opposite side of what they are used to. I know they need to understand how lucky we are. Hopefully, they will.