Anna Quindlen’s tour of Imagined London, “the world’s greatest fictional city,” is a brief and provocative reader’s companion, interesting in large part because it is also a literary and intellectual autobiography of the author. This book is a journey through Quindlen’s personal relationship with London, and a catalog of the ideas, concepts and literary references that are important to her. Quindlen presents us with brief, engaging sections that discuss Dickens, Doyle, Galsworthy, and the novels of Zadie Smith and Monica Ali, through the lens of her experience. She addresses a number of these “imagined Londons” from an autobiographical perspective, and looks for echoes of her literary Londons in the present.

Making comparisons with other great metropolitan cities, Quindlen articulates London’s unique place in the global imagination as both a seat of politics and culture. With its history, London has been the inspiration for an unparalleled depth of imagined versions, each one specific, and each one different. Pounding the pavement in the physical London, Quindlen is clearly enchanted by these layers of historical possibility. Some events are marked by blue literary markers of the “George Washington slept here” variety. Other more mundane possibilities go uncommemorated, but keep the author imaginatively engaged with the city that is her subject.

Quindlen also explores the problems inherent in making multiple literary visits to a place prior to a physical visit. What to do if the location doesn’t measure up, or the building has been torn down? How to pronounce that troublesome place name that you’ve only ever seen in print and have never heard spoken? How to find the authentic behind and beneath the twenty-first century generic?

If you read Austen or Lessing, Agatha Christie or Philippa Gregory, and want to explore some thoughts and ideas about London in the literary imagination, take a look at Anna Quindlen’s Imagined London, which will make an interesting companion to your fictional travels.

John Jewitt – Savage Branch

Lou Arrendale, a highly intelligent, autistic man in his mid-thirties, lives in a near future time in America where the wealthy have the option of paying for LifeTime treatments to extend their life spans, and where doctors are able to cure autism, in utero. Lou and his autistic colleagues, who work in computer pattern recognition at a pharmaceutical company, were born too late for the “cure." However, because of the advanced treatment they received in childhood, they perform at remarkably productive levels in their field.

A new manager, Mr. Crenshaw, arrives on the scene. As Crenshaw quickly pushes his agenda of coercing the company’s autistic employees to undergo an experimental treatment to cure autism in adults, Lou and his peers have a wrenching choice to make: do they remain themselves, or do they risk becoming guinea pigs in a procedure that has only been tested on chimpanzees?

I found The Speed of Dark compelling. The plot advances at a good clip, but what was most intriguing to me was Lou Arrendale’s multi-dimensional character. Elizabeth Moon fully fleshes out his thought processes and feelings: how he sees the world and its patterns; how metaphorical language remains difficult for him to understand; and how he copes with the challenges that confront him, including a stalker who tries to harm him, and the love that he feels for a “normal” woman. As I read the novel, I found myself rooting for Lou and his coworkers, while gaining insight into what it means to live in a world where you are “different” in fundamental ways from what’s considered “normal."

Moon writes from experience. Her son, born in 1983, is autistic. To read more about her life and work, check out her web site, MoonScape. The official web site for The Speed of Dark offers additional resources, including an eloquent essay on autism written by the author.

Howard County Library and Howard Community College invite you to participate in the Howard County Book Connection initiative by reading The Speed of Dark and taking part in a variety of activities through the academic year. Come join us for a panel book discussion on October 15 at 7:00 pm at the Central Library. And take a look at the Book Connection web site to learn about future events.

Lisa Bankman – Central Library

My pre-teen heart broke so hard when I first watched Somewhere in Time back in 1980. During its initial theatrical release it quickly became a commercial and critical failure, but I didn’t care because it touched me in a way no other film had. The music score by John Barry (well-known for his James Bond work), the lush cinematography, the beautiful love story … all of that combined to turn me into one big sobbing mess that required lots of tissues. All these years later, I still cry like a baby when I watch.

Nowadays Somewhere in Time is an underground success story thanks to the Internet, DVD and yes, even video. There’s a website devoted to this lovely film, and you can attend an annual S.I.T. event at the Grand Hotel, where the famous lovebirds meet in this beloved fictional story.

Though the concept of time travel is essential to the story, please don’t be afraid if you’re not a sci-fi fan. Time travel is merely the way modern day Richard Collier (played so earnestly by Christopher Reeve) is able to fall in love with stage actress Elise McKenna (played by Jane Seymour, whose performance leaves no doubt that only she was ever meant to play this role.)

Film lore has it that a late nineteenth-century actress named Maude Adams is the real life inspiration for Elise McKenna. Since that’s the kind of stuff old-fashioned Hollywood dreams are built on, it’s only fitting it’s part of this wonderful movie.

Angie Engles – Savage Branch

Frank Peretti is known for his Christian-themed supernatural thrillers, and Ted Dekker, for his Christian suspense novels. In House, the two authors combine their talents to tell a gripping tale about a couple who spends the night in a haunted house. Another couple joins them, but the four are not alone. There is the weird family who resides in the dwelling and the serial killer on the outside trying to get in. Will they survive the night?

While House’s themes of hidden sin and redemption aren’t forced on the reader, one can certainly spot them. Peretti and Dekker wrap up their story with a moral and a surprise. If you enjoy reading Christian fiction and also appreciate an exciting page-turner, then check this one out.

Robert Bates – Glenwood Branch

While Max Hastings’ Retribution focuses on Asia and Armageddon on Europe, together these grim but fascinating books examine the last year of World War II.

Both books share a trait typical of many earlier World War II histories, since a fair amount of the material in each comes from the author’s personal interviews with surviving participants. However, at this point, this "typical trait" is actually sort of unique. After all, 1945 is now sixty-three years in the past and interviewees are a dying breed. So it seems very likely that Retribution and Armageddon may be the last major accounts of the Second World War where some portions, at least, are based on the direct verbal accounts of survivors.

Besides good writing there’s something else about Max Hastings’ accounts of the last year of the war that make them special. Historians tend to write what the available sources allow them to write. Since 1945, this means that the scope of most of the English language histories of the events of the 1940s have focused on the experiences of Americans, Englishmen, Germans, and Japanese. These two books signal an enormous change in writing about the war as Hastings expands our perspective to a broader view.

There are plenty of pages in both volumes that focus on Americans and the other "usual suspects." However, while Retribution does not slight the Pacific battles fought between the Americans and the Japanese, what makes it particularly interesting are the accounts of the campaigns on the mainland of Asia and the involvement of Indians, Chinese and, even Africans. The depressing tale of Australia and its army in the last year of the war, as well as the pages devoted to the Russian invasion of Manchuria, provide some absorbing reading. Armageddon gives good coverage of the fighting on the Western Front while also informing the reader about people and events in Eastern Europe.

After more than half a century of books on the Second World War, it’s got to be hard for an author to come up with a history that covers the war in a new and different way. With Retribution and Armageddon, Max Hastings has come up with two of them.

Joe McHugh – Administration Office

A murderous giant, revived from the dead; a dwarf who sneaks down a chimney at night and leaves gifts of toys; a charming scam artist who may hold the key to a young orphan’s past and future… Hannah Tinti’s The Good Thief has the makings of a beautiful fairy tale, yet its characters ring so true, they’ll stay with you long after the novel. Yes, I was finally lucky enough to win an Early Reviewer copy of this book on Library Thing, and, even more luckily, I really enjoyed the book.

I found the writing lyrical, and Ren, the central character, charming and sympathetic. The book, set in 19th century New England, is really Ren’s story, and it is not a happy one: Ren was abandoned at a Catholic orphanage as an infant, and he must face the probability that his "deformity" – he is missing his left hand – will keep him from ever being adopted. (Children who are not adopted at 16 are sold off into the army.) But Ren’s luck changes when Benjamin Nabb, a dashing stranger with a gift for telling fantastic tales, turns up claiming to be Ren’s long-lost brother.

Benjamin leads Ren on a journey that is even more fantastic than some of the stories he tells. Sure, a novel featuring grave robbing and a malevolent, candy-swilling mousetrap mogul may not sound uplifting, but I finished it and felt good. It definitely has an Oliver Twist/Huck Finn feel, but with a much darker, even bewitching, charm.

Joanne Sobieck-Lingg – Central Library

Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking is an example of exceptional art arising from great tragedy. Didion weaves biographical anecdotes through a narrative about her daughter’s serious illness and the 2003 death of her husband from a heart attack. The reader is allowed to witness and participate in moments that usually occur only in private. Didion conveys the extraordinary event of the death of a loved one with an emphasis on the ordinary events of the day. “John asked for a second drink before sitting down. I gave it to him. We sat down. My attention was on mixing the salad. John was talking, then he wasn’t.” The author often repeats the first writing that she did after the death of her husband. “Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends.”

This is a brief but remarkable volume that encourages us to value family as the strongest bond that we have and to realize that, for those left behind, life continues as a sum of previous experiences. Didion’s navigation of an old neighborhood is particularly poignant. “I caught sight, unprepared, of a movie theater in which John and I had in 1967 seen The Graduate. There had been no particular sense of moment about seeing The Graduate in 1967…. We had gone…to dinner at Frascati’s. Frascati’s was gone but the theater was still there, if only to trap the unwary.” (p.118)

Didion’s other equally evocative nonfiction is collected in We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order To Live, a dense volume that consolidates the author’s observations on particular times and places in the recent past. The essays on California, first published in Where I Was From, are particularly atmospheric. There’s great stuff to discover from Joan Didion in The Year of Magical Thinking. Take a look.

John Jewitt – Savage Branch

If you’re a fan of the goofy and highly addictive TV series Monk, and are already worrying how you’re going to cope once the current season ends (it’s been REALLY good this time around!), you might want to check out Lee Goldberg’s novelization. The incredibly adorable and disarmingly brilliant detective, played so well by Tony Shalhoub, has now inspired a set of mystery novels. 

In Mr. Monk in Outer Space, the Columbo-like cutie investigates a series of seemingly disconnected murders and goes behind the scenes at a sci-fi convention to find out just what happened to the creator of an underground hit called "Beyond Earth."  Having been to more than my share of these wacky events (such as a Xena: Warrior Princess convention, and no, I’m not ashamed to admit that), I can tell you that Goldberg perfectly captures what it’s like to mingle with dangerously devoted fans of the offbeat.

The spot-on dialogue and fast pacing make Mr. Monk in Outer Space a quick read that may not be terribly deep, but will definitely give you that Friday night joy of watching a new Monk episode.

Angie Engles – Savage Branch

On September 24, Howard County Library offers a new way to listen to books with digital sound quality, but without the need to download anything. Playaways are small digital audiobooks that are easy to use. The Playaways are available in children’s, young adult, and adult titles, and are located with the audiobooks at all branches. You can also reserve Playaway titles, which are available on loan for three weeks.

Once you have made your selection, simply insert your own AAA battery and headphones, press "play," and enjoy! I am looking forward to trying out the automatic bookmark, which remembers where you left off. Another convenient feature is the universal headphone jack that works with almost any type of headphones, speakers, and car adaptors.

On Wednesday, September 24 from 1:00 – 5:00 pm, a Playaway representative will be at Howard County Central Library to demonstrate this new format. Plan on stopping by to see how the Playaways work, and to check out some new listening material.

Andrea Misner – Administration Office

I just finished watching the LAST episode of the LAST season of The Wire, an HBO fiction series profiling the city of Baltimore. I’m disconsolate. For a person who watches very little TV, I identify myself as a Wire couch potato. Am I alone or are there more of us out there? I don’t have HBO, or for that matter, even cable. (Yes, I know, gasps all around!) But when my husband and I would get our hands on the latest season of The Wire, we’d IMMEDIATELY clear our schedules.

David Simon’s series captures the spirit and character of Baltimore – a city struggling to vanquish a thriving drug culture and the accompanying violence and decay; a city proud of its working class background, as well as its multicultural heritage; a city where politicos rule by both good and greed; a city of hope and a city of dead ends. Each season focuses on a different aspect of urban life – the drug trade, the Port of Baltimore, politics, education, and the media.

Baltimore comes equally alive through the characters who are palpable in their struggles and their imperfections. The distinction between right and wrong is often blurred. When a killer steals from the rich and gives to the needy, is he any worse than the politician taking what belongs to the poor and keeping it for himself?

TV excellence like The Wire is hard to come by. I must warn you in advance, there’s a strong possibility you will fall as hard for the series as I did. You’ll push the limits of your bedtime, as you settle in for yet another episode, knowing full well you’ll pay the price the following morning. But once you hear strains of Steve Earle’s raw theme song "Way down in the Hole", nothing else matters as you mainline your next fix of The Wire.

Fritzi Newton – Miller Branch