The luckiest woman who ever lived

"In Spanish, Rubirosa means a red rose, but to me it's a black eye," she said, adjusting a big black patch over her right eye. "He said to me, 'If you do not marry me now I will marry Barbara Hutton.' I said, 'That is a smart idea.' He said, 'Why won't you marry me?' and I said, 'If I must tell you the truth, I am in love with George.' [This refers to George Sanders, the actor. George and Zsa Zsa are in the midst of getting a divorce. "She is discarding me like a squeezed lemon," George says.] And so then Rubi hits me. I am the luckiest woman who ever lived. He might have broken my head or my nose.… A man only beats a woman if he loves her. I always loved George, the love of my life. After our divorce, George and I will be beaus." Rubirosa denied that he had proposed to Zsa Zsa, recently anyway. Miss Hutton, when asked to comment on Zsa Zsa's announcements, said, "I am a lady."

Life Jan. 11, 1954.

Band of Angels

By Julia Gregson
Touchstone

It might be said that at heart, Band of Angels is a love story. But the course of love between Catherine Carreg and her childhood friend Deio is a convoluted, meandering one. Catherine and Deio grew up riding horses together in Wales in the 1850s. But when Catherine matures, her family puts a stop to her adventures with Deio, seeing it as improper for a young lady. After her mother dies in childbirth, Catherine feels lost and isolated. She wants to go out into the world and study medicine so she can help save lives, as a way to redeem a personal failure that she couldn't save her own mother.

Catherine escapes Wales with the help of Deio, who is a cattle driver. She dresses as a man and goes to London with him on a drive. Upon reaching London, Deio seems to want Catherine to stay with him, but she rejects him outright, refusing to see him after their furtive journey together. Catherine's determination to become a nurse or doctor is rewarded when she is accepted into Florence Nightingale's school for nurses. When Nightingale abruptly leaves for the Crimean war, Catherine begs to go with her.

In the meantime, Deio realizes the railroad will soon make his job as a cattle driver obsolete. Looking for other ways to make a living, he decides to sell horses to the Allied forces in the Crimea. He takes a number of his horses to Balaklava, knowing that Catherine is somewhere near there, and hoping he will find her somehow.

Catherine and Nightingale's other nurses end up in Scutari, far from the front, where thousands of wounded and ill soldiers are hospitalized. Here, they live in squalor, and food is a luxury. Soldiers die of typhus and other diseases more often than they die of wounds suffered on the battlefield. This is the most fascinating part of the story, but it takes more than half the book to get us to this point.

Gregson's research is strong, and she succeeds in making Wales, and the cattle drive to London, come alive for the reader. But there could have been much more about Nightingale and the procedures she used in the hospital in Scutari to offer the reader historical insight. Nightingale is a filmy character here, difficult to relate to, and the war itself seems very distant as well.

It is true that Nightingale has been characterized as standoffish in reality, but still, she had the passion to take her across the world and into hospitals where no women had been allowed before. We don't see much of that drive here. Catherine's motivation for going to the Crimea needed further development, as well. In addition, it seems a bit of a leap when Catherine starts longing for Deio after she so assuredly rejected him. The love story seems almost superfluous at times.

In spite of some plot and character flaws, the book, overall, does succeed in drawing the reader into a brutal world that we want to know more about. This is one of those imperfect books that keeps you reading, looking forward to more like this: “Blood was the hardest thing of all to wash out; all of them wore it like a permanent stain. They spent most of their time on the wards trying to take it from their tangled hair and old bandages, from faces and dolls and pictures and handkerchiefs; strange what the men carried closest to their hearts.”

Review by Natasha Bauman

Claire de Lune

By Christine Johnson
Simon Pulse

Claire de Lune, Christine Johnson’s debut novel, is a good, but not standout, addition to werewolf lit. The simple way that this twist on werewolf lore is presented will make it a quick and satisfying read to ardent werewolf lovers, though it will have a tougher time winning the hearts of others.

In Claire de Lune, Johnson introduces us to a different type of paranormal world, in which only females can be werewolves. It’s not a feminist book, per se, but the dynamic that this sets up allows Claire to grow into a strong and self-reliant girl/werewolf. Here, it’s the girl protecting the boy, not the usual other way around.

Having a girl be the strength in a relationship would be a great story, but the book never fully lives up to its potential. Outside of Claire, I found the characters difficult to get to know, most of them only fitting roles expected to appear in a paranormal romance: the tensions among the werewolf group members, the love interest’s villainous father, the head-butting mother. I never found myself fully immersed in Claire’s family dynamics, with her mother’s Type A “bad parent” personality and their rather inconsequential au pair (who’s more a red herring than a useful character). All of Matthew’s father’s supposedly malevolent machinations and campaign against werewolves remained in the distant background and never fully took on immediacy.

I guess I’m just extra cynical when it comes to paranormal romances nowadays: it’s going to take a lot to make something stand out for me. Claire de Lune never reaches that point, but I have no doubt that it will find its audience as scores of werewolf lovers prowl the shelves for something equally supernatural and romantic after watching Twilight for the twenty-eighth time.

Review by Steph Su Reads

Forbidden Passion

By Rita Herron
Forever

Forbidden Passion is a paranormal romance centered around the relationship of Dr. Marlena Bender and Sheriff Dante Valtrez. Set in the small Southern town of Mysteria, the book begins with Marlena returning home to confront her troubled past. Twenty years before, Marlena witnessed the gruesome deaths of her mother and sister at the hands of two men in the woods. She was saved by Dante, then a local teenager.

Haunted by the events of that day, Marlena has pursued a career as a scientist, studying the genetic reasons for violent behavior. Dante, too, is haunted by that day, but for different reasons. He knows the truth about the attack on Marlena’s family: they weren’t attacked by men at all, but by a pack of demons; a pack that Dante himself used to be a part of. Ashamed of his dark past, Dante has devoted his life to protecting the citizens of Mysteria from the demonic forces that prey on them. Despite Dante’s resolve to stay away from Marlena, the two are thrown back into each other’s lives when a serial killer begins stalking Marlena, leaving her tokens from his victims.

This is the third, and I would presume final, book in Rita Herron’s Demonborn series. It’s your typical paranormal romance: the two main characters fight their mutual attraction to each other for half the book before finally succumbing to temptation. There are a lot of demon-related killings, as well as a prophecy and a high-stakes “good versus evil” showdown. Herron keeps the action coming at a pretty fast pace, so even though Forbidden Passion isn’t revolutionary, it isn’t boring either.

The book revolves mainly around the mystery/thriller aspect of the plot, throwing in bits of sexual tension here and there. This makes it a good read for those who prefer their romance novels to be driven by story instead of sex. In the end, Forbidden Passion was able to hold my interest for the duration of the book, but it wasn’t good enough for me to want to read the other books in the series.

Review by Victoria Kroeger

Savor the Moment

By Nora Roberts
Berkley Trade

Sometimes when I finish a book, I can't help but feel that the experience has made me better in some way. Maybe that sounds really cheesy, but it's true. That's one of my favorite things about reading great classic literature: it just leaves you awestruck. I loved the wildness of Wuthering Heights, the subtle, brilliant emotions of Jane Eyre, the intricate story of A Tale of Two Cities, and the straight-up genius wit of Les Liaisons dangereuse.

There are modern writers who can move me, too, like in My Sister's Keeper. Avid readers know this. This is why we read. And then there are some books that, after you read them, you feel like part of your brain has been lobotomized. I give you Nora Roberts' Savor the Moment.

Maybe that sounds harsh, but I think it's justified. I like Nora Roberts, I really do. I've read almost all of her books. I've come to expect a formulaic, predictable story from her, but I'm okay with that. Hell, that's precisely why I read the romance genre in general. What I'm not okay with her trying to sell me shit. And I'm sorry, but that's what she's doing in this Bride Quartet series.

I wasn't particularly kind to the last installment in this series, Bed of Roses, but again, I was justified. Emma was effing annoying, and the way that Roberts expected the reader to accept that her behavior was rational and not insulting to all women was insulting to all women. I had hopes that the rest of the books would be better because my biggest problem with Bed of Roses was Emma's perfect life. Laurel, the heroine in Savor the Moment, is not perfect. But does Roberts delve into Laurel's issues in any depth? Does Roberts show us anything about Laurel outside of her love for the hero, Del? No. Seriously, folks, she doesn't. Laurel apparently has a background that I would have liked to learn about. But I never got that chance.

Come on, Nora. It's bad enough that you're writing four books about freakin' weddings. As if the wedding industry in this country isn't absolutely ridiculous in the way that they put all the focus on one day, you give us four women who make their livelihood out of catering to these self-absorbed people.

Not only that, but you present them in a really annoying way. These women never make freakin' mistakes. Ever. They always know exactly how to talk down a bride, or exactly which flowers they'll like, or exactly what cake they'll want. Every. Single. Time. Throw in some screw-ups every once in a while and we'll talk.

The worst is Mac, the photographer. This woman sounds like the kind of photographer that makes me hulk out. In the first book she did a pregnancy session where she made the pregnant lady get naked. Anyone who knows me knows I hate those kind of pictures with a passion that will never die. And I'm sorry, Nora, but it sounds like Mac has little to no imagination as a photographer. The bride is a florist? Let's shoot her in a garden! The groom is an English teacher? Let's shoot him with books! The couple met as children and shared a fondness for cookies? Let's shoot them with cookies! Please. I know wedding photographers that do amazing, amazing work and never result to that unimaginative shit.

But your worst transgression is the complete and utter failure to portray these women in a real way. They are obsessed with weddings, and even when the four friends are together, all they talk about is work or relationships. Oh, yeah, and sex. These women never shut up about sex. When they have it, they have to make mention of it. When they're not having it, they make mention of the others having it. Seriously, I don't know women like this. Don't they ever talk about important stuff? Current events, the economy, feminism, celebrity gossip, books they've read, etc? Nope. Just men. And weddings. And sex with men.

Look, I get that you've got a theme here. Each woman in this series needs to get a man in each installment of the series. But for the love of God, what is wrong with dating for a while? Emma and Laurel were with their respective men for about two months tops before they're distraught over whether or not the men want to be with them forever. For fuck's sake, what is the rush? Why can't a couple admit that they're in love more than five minutes before a marriage proposal?

As you can tell, I did not like this book. At all. But I will still read the last book, because I'm a masochist. And an optimist. Parker, the last heroine to be paired up, has the potential to be more multidimensional than all her man-crazy friends. She also comes across as truly independent and strong. But Nora, you've gotta step it up. You're getting lazy, here. Don't think we haven't noticed.

Review by Lindsey Simon

Cross-posted at The Bookshelf

Erotic Poems

By E.E. Cummings
Edited by George James Firmage
W.W. Norton

Love, sex, and springtime are fundamental themes in E.E. Cummings’ lifetime body of work, and in Erotic Poems, editor George James Firmage brings together pieces by Cummings’ that are especially sexual, exalting of fertility, and written in a voice that is at once fresh and wise, evocative of the dumb yet utterly precise instinct to procreate.

These poems, and the line drawings (also by Cummings), were selected from the poet’s original manuscripts and are diverse in their eroticism, tone, and form. Representing a spectrum of sexual desire, thought, and impulse, the poems range from humorous to romantic, graphic to tender. Some are raw, even violent, while others are philosophical, and still others are playful but intelligent. My favorites led me to laugh, delighted by both the humor and the poetic genius in the verse, or else moved me to a deep sentimental ache at the beauty and tragedy of love and the existential anguish in its inevitable loss.

A particularly evocative poem entitled "ix." has a dark shadowy edge evoking the violence of both desire and of life itself, as well as a melancholy awareness of eventual extinguishment of life. It begins:

nearer:breath of my breath:take not thy tingling
limbs from me:make my pain their crazy meal

Then climaxes with:

flower of madness on gritted lips
and on sprawled eyes squirming with light insane
chisel the killing flame that dizzily grips.

And finally concludes:

thirstily. Dead stars stink. dawn. inane,
the poetic carcass of a girl.

This is not your run-of-the-mill erotica! From the sound of the words themselves to the use of unconventional syntax and spacing, the poems in this collection wind up to a climax after following a cadence that varies in texture, from rocky to sinuous.

Perhaps my favorite poem, because it hit me so squarely in the heart, is "vii." After the lovers have made love and:

all the houses terribly tighten
upon your coming:
and they are glad
as you fill the streets of my city with children.

Resting now, the lovers embrace, and it is Cummings' description of the melding of their bodies and hearts that, for me, so poignantly captures the sense of oneness between them:

you are a keen mountain and an eager island whose
lively slopes are based always in the me which is shrugging,which is
under you and around you and forever: i am the hugging sea.

The line drawings are themselves poetic, expressive, and emotional. Their style is reminiscent of Egon Schiele, Chagall, Picasso, and the deco illustrative style of the 1920s. (Interestingly, Cummings worked as a portrait artist for Vanity Fair magazine from 1924 to 1927.) The drawings are a great complement to the poems, as each holds large and complex movement, lovers' limbs and torsos twisting and twining around one another, floating in passion.

The book itself has been beautifully and simply executed; when I took Erotic Poems out of its mailing envelope, I had the sense of receiving a valentine. Its white cover is sparely punctuated by rose and black text and a shadowy crease evocative of the furrow at the center of an open book, or the entry point in clean white sheets ready to be mussed. The fashion in which the poems are headed—with non-sequential Roman and Arabic numerals—didn’t make much sense to me, but that wasn’t really a problem. There were poems that seemed to continue into one another and a few that could work as a triptych. While this may not necessarily be intentional on the part of the poet or the editor, it is indicative of the streaming and deeply subliminal nature of Cummings’ poetry and this collection in particular, which reveals the interior erotic landscape of both body and mind.

Review by Matsya Siosal

Lunch in Paris: A Love Story, with Recipes

By Elizabeth Bard
Little, Brown and Company

While the memoir fad is nothing new, Elizabeth Bard’s new book confirms the emergence of a memoir subgenre to contend with: the memoir with recipes. In May 2009, the New York Times proclaimed these books as the brainchild of the “money-making imagination of the publishing industry.” Certainly, a spate of globe-spanning titles have followed, many born from blogs. However, the story of the American in Paris has long been a favored literary subject. It has sparked writers’ imaginations from Henry James to Anais Nin to Elaine Dundy to David Sedaris. Elizabeth Bard’s adventures in Paris have a more chick-lit feel to them than even Nin or Dundy, and have a liberal sprinkling of Julia Child and Peter Mayle throughout. In this recipe-infused book, Bard navigates a long-distance relationship with a French archivist, decides to move to Paris, and eventually gets married and builds her writing career.

At first, Elizabeth Bard’s life seems impossibly charmed, complete with buying the perfect apartment on the increasingly trendy Rue Oberkampf and negotiating cultural differences that seem more endearing and eye-opening than frustrating. However, what sets Bard’s writing apart from others of her nascent genre is her thoughtfulness and realism. She paints a very true and convincing portrait of herself as a driven, New York striver, bent on academic, artistic, and financial success at an early age and agonizing over why it has not yet arrived. While she is highly educated, she does not come from a place of easy breezy privilege, and in between recipes inspired by fresh finds at her Parisian market, Bard contemplates her family and personal history.

As much as it documents her courtship, relationship, and marriage to Gwendal, a digital archivist and entrepreneur, Lunch in Paris is about Bard’s acclimatization to a Parisian pace of life and ultimately, self-acceptance. Bard finds her stride by finally finding a peaceful balance between her Parisian and New York lives and selves. While this revelation is not particularly groundbreaking and her feminist-tinged reflections stay in safe mainstream territory, Lunch in Paris satisfies readers with a good story, intelligent and heartfelt reflections, and mouth-watering recipes. It’s not clear if these recipes have been kitchen tested the way one would for a professional cookbook, but they serve as solid guidelines for readers interested to add a French twist to their cooking.

While it may not become part of the Americans in Paris literary cannon, Lunch in Paris is a satisfying, straightforward read that feels like a good friend telling you a particularly tasty—and truthful—story.

Review by Eleanor Whitney

Tune Him In, Turn Him On: Using Intuition to Find and Keep the Man of Your Dreams

By Servet Hasan
Llewellyn Publications

Relationship advice can be a tricky and sensitive topic at times. Over time you learn not to take it from anyone except a small number of entrusted friends. In Servet Hasan's Tune Him In, Turn Him On, the author takes a new approach to dating men: actively developing and applying your intuition. Those of us who rely on our gut feeling and are into spiritual activities, like opening our chakras and visualizing auras, may appreciate Hasan’s blend of spirituality and boy guidance.

I found this book to be geared toward younger women who are feeling lost in their love lives and insecure in their relationship abilities. Hasan offers gentle exercises that give the readers support and energy during difficult moments when they want to stop obsessing over a guy and start focusing on their deeper selves. For example, one of her meditations includes letting go of old relationship baggage by visualizing suitcases filled with past memories floating down a river until they are out of sight. Another exercise is a more traditional golden light meditation that helps readers replenish their inner core and connect with their relationship goals.

I found some of Hasan's confident generalizations about “all men” limiting. These generalizations didn't always make sense to me because I've met men who are “naturally born talkers” or who have admitted they are in love, contrary to Hasan’s assertions. It could be that the book is tailored to help seduce a certain type of man or for women mainly focused on marriage. Either way, creating more distance between the genders with the “us” against “them” perspective and reinforcing heteronormative ideals in the dating game is not something that I happily took away from this book.

Overall, Hasan covers all the dating basics and pushes readers to really think about their own love goals, whatever they may be: opening up to someone new, dating, or marriage. She spends several chapters talking about how women should work on their relationships with themselves before going out to find 'the man of their dreams'. Hasan even guarantees that once you fall in love with yourself, your ideal man will come to you, instead of you having to go out and search for him.

Review by Cinthia Pacheco