Dracula by Bram Stoker

To-day Harker is out following up his clue, and Art and Quincey are looking after horses. Godalming thinks that it will be well to have horses always in readiness, for when we get the information which we seek there will be no time to lose. We must sterilise all the imported earth between sunrise and sunset; we shall thus catch the Count at his weakest, and without a refuge to fly to. Van Helsing is off to the British Museum looking up some authorities on ancient medicine. The old physicians took account of things which their followers do not accept, and the Professor is searching for witch and demon cures which may be useful to us later.

I sometimes think we must all be mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.

-Dracula 

 So, as you may have heard, vampires are pretty popular right now. Charismatic, pale, brooding sorts who can't seem to help loving those human women. They're conflicted about these relationships. They have A History, you see (often a very long one). Sometimes when they go out into the sun, they burn. And sometimes they sparkle.

Dracula, I hate to break it to you, is not one of those sexy, tortured vamps. He has a unibrow. Hair grows on his palms. He reeks. He's kind of gross, you guys.

No matter! Dracula remains a compelling read, even 100-plus years after its initial publication. This marks the third time I've read it, though the last time was in high school, I imagine--I only remembered bits and pieces. I was spurred on to reread by having recently seen the 1992 film adaptation, which seemed quite different from what I did remember. Guess what, I was right.

In the book, intrepid young law clerk Jonathan Harker ventures to Transylvania to help close a real estate deal with the mysterious Count Dracula. Things go from bad (Wolves. Lots of wolves.) to worse (The count slithering down the side of his castle, for one, which just doesn't bode well at all). As Jonathan fights to escape, we also meet some of the people he's left behind: his fiancee, Mina Murray, for one; Mina's friend Lucy Westernra, and Lucy's three suitors, which include Dr. John Seward, head of a local asylum. Mina is concerned over Jonathan's continued absence; Lucy puzzles over her own sleepwalking; and Dr. Seward recounts his interactions with patient Renfield, who has a theory about absorbing life from insects. Their story is told through their diary entries, which begin to weave together into the story of the damage wrought by a very old monster. He starts so small, this monster. Just those two, tiny ragged holes on Lucy's neck...

I'll admit, it can be frustrating as a modern reader that the gang doesn't catch on to things a little more quickly. We're so well-versed in vampire lore today--even a child knows about the holes in the neck, the stake and the garlic--that you really have to step back and try to imagine what it would be like to hear about vampires for the first time--in a situation in which you are actually dealing with one, no less, not just listening to old folk tales.  Even with the narrative bumpiness that can result from their ignorance, Dracula remains a creepy, engaging story. It's also incredibly cinematic, which makes the lack of a faithful film adaptation all the more frustrating. Heck, sexy Dracula up a bit, sharpen Mina's character to make her a slightly anachronistic badass--I'd be fine with that. Just don't, say, paint Dracula as an epic love story between the titular vampire and Mina, the seeming reincarnation of his true love from many centuries earlier. I mean, wha? (Francis Ford Coppola's ears are burning, I reckon.) I hold out hope that one day someone will see the dramatic potential of this story on its own, without ridiculous romantic embellishments. Until then, the book can stand for itself. 

Up next: Had Mockingjay. Read Mockingjay. Will review Mockingjay forthwith. 

Word Freak by Stefan Fatsis

To play competitive Scrabble, one has to get over the conceit of refusing to acknowledge certain words as real and accept that the game requires learning words that may not have any outside utility. In the living room, Scrabble is about who has a better working vocabulary. It's a sort of crossword puzzle in reverse. But in the tournament room, Scrabble has nothing to do with vocabulary. If it did, I – an Ivy league-educated professional journalist, for crying out loud – would rule. But I can only dream of competing with the champions. No, Scrabble isn't about words. It's about mastering the rules of the game, and the words are the rules.

-Word Freak

I love Scrabble. I've played it since I was kid and I consider myself to be a decent living room player. But I'll never play at the same level at Stefan Fatsis and, honestly, I wouldn't want to—I get hung up on the whole "real word" thing he discusses in the passage above. Nevertheless I love love love Word Freak.

Word Freak chronicles journalist Stefan Fatsis's journey into the world of competitive Scrabble. It's a weird place, populated by all varieties of social miscreants.  Stefan begins at the bottom of the heap, playing the blue hairs—and not always winning, either. He begins studying words, which means memorization, and lots of it. Can you imagine memorizing a list of two-letter words that are valid in Scrabble? And then, when you've finished that, three-letter words? And four, five, etc. There are more words on each list, naturally. It's a Sisyphean struggle for Stefan, although he does make slow progress.

Word Freak is not all about words, though there are certainly plenty of them. Let's get back to those social miscreants, the real heart of the story. It takes a special kind of person to be an expert Scrabble player. Dedicated would be one word for it. Experts could doubtless think of many more, a fair amount of which might be less flattering. But while Stefan's new Scrabble friends may be single-minded in their devotion to the game, they're also pretty fascinating. There's the friendly but ever-ailing "G.I" Joel Sherman (the G.I stands for "gastrointestinal"). There's the funny, hot-headed Matt Graham, who takes smart pills by the handful in order to boost his performance. Matt's friend, Marlon Hill, a smart, temperamental player out of inner-city Baltimore who is working on a book about race in America. And there's Joe Edley, who has mystical approach to Scrabble and coaches Stefan on the psychological aspect of the game.*

There's many more, besides. Some of them, to be fair, seem perfectly well adjusted — but they also get less face time in Word Freak. Stefan is not condescending, although he is honest about the weirdness level, as are many of players. As time wears on, though, and his obsessiveness about the game grows, he finds he has more and more in common with his Scrabble comrades. It might have been a frightening realization to have, but Stefan often finds himself happy with this crowd, playing Anagrams and rehashing games past. They love the game, they truly do.

And I love this book. I enjoy spending time with people who are happy and successful in a way that might not make sense to the rest of the world.  Good for them. And I especially love that this revolves around language, even if many tournament players might not know (or care about) the definitions of the words they play. There is something exciting about finding the perfect word — be it in writing or, when the universe smiles upon upon you, in the mishmash of tiles on your Scrabble rack. I enjoyed celebrating that in Word Freak. It also really, really made me want to play a game of Scrabble.

Up next: For whatever reason, this entry took me forever to write, so I've already finished Tana French's Faithful Place; I imagine I'll be back to write about it soon. I'm planning on starting The Guinea Pig Diaries by A.J. Jacobs later this evening.

*If you're curious to see these players in action, the documentary Word Wars covers at least part of the same time period and features many of the same people.

Bleak House by Charles Dickens

"In the wicked days, my dears, of King Charles the First - I mean, of course, in the wicked days of the rebels who leagued themselves against that excellent King - Sir Morbury Dedlock was the owner of Chesney Wold. Whether there was any account of a ghost in the family before those days, I can't say. I should think it very likely indeed."

Mrs. Rouncewell holds this opinion, because she considers that a family of such antiquity and importance has a right to a ghost. She regards a ghost as one of the privileges of the upper classes; a genteel distinction to which common people have no claim.

-Bleak House

It's hard to know where to begin with Bleak House, to even choose a proper quotation to illustrate it. As I was reading, I tried to remember page numbers of particularly good passages, but I've ended up with more than I need. (As opposed to times when I've halfheartedly leafed through a book to find anything worth quoting.) I may sneak another quotation in at the end.

Bleak House is the story of a young woman. No, a ludicrously complicated court case. A woman troubled by a ghost. A man troubled by the east wind. Marriage. Death. Love. Spontaneous combustion.

Let's start with the young woman. Her name is Esther Summerson. When we first meet her, she tells us of her childhood: born out of wedlock and raised by a staunchly religious woman, a combination that turns out about as well as you might expect. Fortunately for Esther, provisions are made for her after the death of her guardian, and they eventually lead her to the home of John Jarndyce.

Mr. Jarndyce is warm and kind, almost absurdly modest about taking Esther in to live as a companion to an orphaned young cousin of his, Ada Clare. Mr. Jarndyce, Ada, and their other cousin, Richard Carstone, are also embroiled in Jarndyce and Jarndyce, a lawsuit over a contested will, the complexity and duration of which has left it a joke in the eyes of the law. Mr. Jarndyce, however, takes it seriously enough to try to avoid it entirely: Jarndyce and Jarndyce has been the ruin of many a man.

What of that woman who hears a ghostly footfall outside her bedroom window? That would be Lady Dedlock. She's beautiful and haughty, the talk of all society. She doesn't care much for that, or for anything, really. So it comes as quite a surprise when she swoons at the sight of some legal papers (she is also a party in Jarndyce and Jarndyce, naturally) in the possession of her husband's lawyer, the relentless and sinister Mr. Tulkinghorn. What could cause a lady of such renowned composure to give way like that, the reader may wonder. Mr. Tulkinghorn wants to know as well, and his investigation sets into a motion a chain of events that even he could not anticipate.

I could do plot summary for ages, trying to set up some of the dozens of characters that populate Bleak House, but I'm going to move on. I've always enjoyed Dickens, but it wasn't until last summer that I picked up Bleak House. I'd been put off by the name, I suppose. Sounded like a bit of a bummer.

Bleak House is actually the name of Mr. Jarndyce's home, though there's no explanation as to how he (or his family) came to choose such an inhospitable name. You could probably also argue that the title could refer less literally to some of the less pleasant abodes we see in the novel. However, I just want to assure you that it's not 800 pages of misery. There are sad passages, without question, but there are also hopeful ones, even funny ones.

I absolutely fell in love with Bleak House last summer, and watched the wonderful miniseries shortly thereafter. Bleak House basically goes against a lot of what I've posted about summer reading, and it's certainly pretty heavy for your beach bag, but talk about storytelling. I think the reason I felt the impetus to reread it this summer was that it's just so good that I knew it would transport me away from what was otherwise a somewhat stressful time.

Speaking of good, I want to get in a few more words about Esther Summerson, as she is our heroine. I love Esther. She is absolutely good without being overly perfect or one-dimensional. Yes, everyone who meets her, loves her - but you can't help but see why*. Esther is not just passively good, she's actively good, and I think that makes all the difference. She will take in a sick urchin off the streets because it's the right thing to do, even if she endangers herself in doing so. She will travel to reason with Richard when he continues along his misguided path further and further into the snarled workings of Jarndyce and Jarndyce. And towards the close of the novel, she will make another, far more harrowing journey to seek out someone she loves.

What am I leaving out? The amusing declarations and legalese of Mr. Guppy, as well as his hilarious mother. The Growlery. That elderly child, Harold Skimpole. Mr. Smallweed and his brimstone magpie of a wife. Yes, at this point I'm just putting in all the Dickensian phrasing that I find memorable.

"It was a troubled dream?" said Richard, clasping both my guardian's hands eagerly.
"Nothing more, Rick; nothing more."
"And you, being a good man, can pass it as such, and forgive and pity the dreamer, and be lenient and encouraging when he wakes?"
"Indeed I can. What am I but another dreamer, Rick?"
"I will begin the world!" said Richard, with a light in his eyes.

Oh, Dickens. I'm not sure, but I'm going to put this out there: Bleak House might be my favorite novel, ever. How's that for a recommendation?

Up next: Well, I actually finished Bleak House a few days ago, but I hadn't had enough time to write. So, in the meantime, I've already finished up the 2nd Sookie Stackhouse book, and I expect to be back to write about that shortly. My next move after that is undecided - I have a lot of choices, hooray.

*Apparently you can. After posting this, I finally read the introduction to my edition of Bleak House, and found that many people do not share my opinion of Esther. To which I say: whatever. I think it's refreshing to have a woman who is good and earnest, not to mention resilient. I'm so tired of jaded characters.

The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin

Who were these people, these specially selected tenants? They were mothers and fathers and children. A dressmaker, a secretary, an inventor, a doctor, a judge. And, oh yes, one was a bookie, one was a burglar, one was a bomber, and one was a mistake. Barney Northrup had rented one of the apartments to the wrong person.

- The Westing Game

A couple of weeks ago, I started thinking about some of my favorite childhood books. These were books that I read time and time again as a kid, but I hadn't read any of them recently. This was impetus enough to take my first trip to the lovely Books of Wonder. (Don't be put off by the overly busy website; it's everything you could ask for in a children's bookstore). I bought The Westing Game, as well as From The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler*.

My first concern was whether or not The Westing Game would hold up. For those of you who missed this one in your formative years, the book is a puzzle: some mysterious party has arranged for a particular group of people (described above) to reside in the newly-built Sunset Towers. Not long thereafter, local multimillionaire Sam Westing is found dead. His will names most of Sunset Towers' residents as his heirs, with the stipulation that they must discover who took his life to win the inheritance. In teams of two , the would-be heirs take their clues - words written on Westing Superstrength Paper Towels - and attempt to solve the puzzle.

Overall, I enjoyed the book. It's not quite as sophisticated as it seemed when I was a child, and its age shows a little more, too. At the time, it was the rare children's book that assumed you could handle seeing adults as imperfect - they made mistakes and had petty grievances; they could be insecure or sad or obsessive, and that was part of life. When you're still in a stage of your life in which adults are the be-all and end-all of knowledge and authority, that's almost revolutionary.

For instance, take Angela Wexler, the beautiful and well-loved bride-to-be who struggles with both her beauty and her impending marriage. I remembered finding her character and her motivations somewhat perplexing when I read as a child. Without spoiling Angela's story, I will say that, as an adult, it's easier to understand that someone could seemingly have it all and still be wildly unhappy. For a child, it's harder to grasp, but I appreciate that this did not stop Ellen Raskin from conceiving of Angela as she is. If The Westing Game had been populated with two-dimensional stock characters, the mystery could have seemed a bit gimmicky. As it is, the twisty plot and nuanced characters suit each other well. I mean, it didn't win the Newbery Medal for nothing.

I think recommending a children's book can be a bit tough. If you didn't read it as a child, I don't know if you could ever fall in love with it the same way a child does. On the other hand - why not give it a try? It's certainly a lot of fun; it would be a great airport or beach read (plus it's super slim - my version is only 185 pages, although the print is quite small).

*I re-read From The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler before starting this blog, so I probably won't review it, but while reading I was struck by how influential this book possibly was to me. I mean, a girl who stays at the Met and falls in love with a statue by Michelangelo? It's possible it made more of an impression than I would have guessed.