Summer Reads: Dark with Glimmers of Hope

Summer is usually a time when I catch up on all the reading I've missed during the hectic school year. Okay, you can never catch up on all the reading you want to do, but I generally make a good stab at it during the summer. This summer flew by so quickly with trips to Oregon and Costa Rica that it feels like I didn't get much reading done at all. However, I did read a few books, none of which you could call bright and cheery, but all of which (though fiction) are absolutely true. True, because they speak about life, about its unending struggles, and about the spirit of courageous people who overcome those struggles against all odds.

At the start of the summer, I read The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. It was the June selection of our couples' book group and maybe not something I would have picked up on my own, but it was well worth my time, so I'm thankful someone else chose it. Set in Nazi Germany, it is a story so familiar that one wonders how it could be told yet again and still bring new insight into the horror of that time. Surprisingly, it does just that. While the young girl Liesel is the central character, the story itself is narrated by the persona "Death." Strangely but naturally, we come to identify and empathize with this untypical narrator; our sympathies lie with him (or her?) throughout the story as, page after page, we're surrounded by hurt and joy, despair and love, anguish and hope, as we're immersed in one of the darkest periods of human history.

I'd like to tell you my summer reading lightens up at this point, but I cannot. The next book I read was The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, the first in a trilogy by Stieg Larsson. I was captivated by this story for a couple of reasons. First, the thrill of the murder mystery kept my fingers racing to turn the pages faster. Second, the protagonist suffers from what I thought early on was Asperger's Syndrome. By the end I wasn't as certain, although I'm convinced it must be something on the autism spectrum. In any case, she is endearing for sure. We like her. We pity her. We stop pitying her because we know she would hate us for doing so. We cheer for her. We rejoice in her victories. We're astonished by her brilliance. We're amused by her social ignorance. We love her, and we mourn for her. Our Lisbeth.

I finished Dragon while we were still in Costa Rica, and I was desperate to get my hands on the second book in the trilogy, The Girl Who Played with Fire. We searched bookstores in Alajuela but could find it only in Spanish. Grrr. I bought a copy in the Atlanta Airport and became happily absorbed in another mystery, the outcome of which could never have been predicted. Gracious! I feel to warn you, though. Both books, but the second in particular, are quite graphic. Parts were most certainly over-the-top too explicit for my taste, and I carefully skimmed over several pages. That didn't matter. Really, it didn't.

When I finished Fire, I had a choice to make. Part of me wanted to rush out and buy the third book, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest. But wait....sitting right on my nightstand....just waiting for me.....was Mockingjay! Tell me you understand the depth and breadth of this dilemma. While I was away, Luke and Désirée ordered Mockingjay, the third in the amazing trilogy by Suzanne Collins, to be delivered to my house just as soon as it came out. And there it sat. Waiting. For me. I had read the first two books, The Hunger Games and Catching Fire, several months ago, maybe even a year ago? I can't remember. Celeste had told me they were the best reads since Twilight, so I rushed out and bought them, read them one after the other, and then passed them right along to Lindsey and Shulamith. I had to wait clear until now for #3.

It was a difficult decision, but since Mockingjay was sitting on my nightstand and Hornet's Nest was still in a bookstore somewhere, I opted for the former. I am about three-fourths through Mockingjay, once again caught up in a world too horrible to imagine yet frighteningly real. When I first began reading The Hunger Games, I equated it to a train wreck. What you see is ghastly, but you can't turn away, so you keep on staring. And so it is with the world of Panem. An arena in which children are forced to kill each other is positively as gruesome as it sounds. But you can't stop reading. Trust me, you can't. With about 150 pages left in Mockingjay, I have this to say to Ms. Collins: Katniss, so brave and willful, so loyal and self-sacrificing, had BETTER wind up with the Peeta she knows and loves. If she doesn't, I will be one unhappy girl. It's not quite as serious as "Team Edward," but it's close.

So here I will say goodbye. I'm off to finish the final chapters in Mockingjay, after which it's back to Kalle and Lisbeth.

Happy reading!