This is a thick book, but deservedly so, as it covers the entire life of a woman living and surviving in a changing world. Set in India at the turn of the previous century, life is very different than today. People are very much born into a caste system, and our main character, Sivakami, would not think of ever violating this. She is “married” at age ten to a young man who is an astrologer of sorts. He tells her parents that he may not be a good match, as his own fortune dictates that he may die soon after the birth of his second child. But they are willing to make the match, as otherwise he seems like a good candidate, and so the marriage takes place, though Sivakami remains with her parents until she hits puberty at age 13.


Her only complaint in her marriage to Hanumarathnam is that from time to time her husband goes off with a group of “wild men” who claim to be alchemists, and he is hoping to discover a way to turn base metal into gold as well. And in a way, he does, in that their first child, a daughter, is a golden child, heavy and placid, but who brings joy to all who encounter her. And Thangham sheds, instead of skin cells like the rest of us, little flakes of gold.


The title of the book comes from the time when his child is about to be born. Hanumarathnam gives the midwife a lemon plucked from the tree outside, and instructs her to throw it out the window the moment the child is born, so he can calculate its fortune, and recalculate his own.


By age 18, Sivakami has given birth to their second child, a treasured son named Vairum (diamond) and has indeed been widowed. In her Brahmin caste, this means she must shave her head and remain indoors during daylight hours, and must not remarry. It never occurs to her to do otherwise, but with the help of her husband’s well-trained assistant, Muchami. Muchami is of a lower caste, and admires his superiors, and is respectful of Sivakami. He not only becomes her representative to the world in all outside affairs, but is beloved by her children, and when the time comes, their children as well. He is also homosexual, which Hanu knew, though they never spoke of it, so nothing untowards happens between the widow and assistant.


I know this has been a long review – but the books is over 600 pages long, and quite absorbing. It isn’t a book I felt I needed to rush through, but it was fascinating for me, being so completely unfamiliar with life in the caste system in the years before India’s independence.


It’s a really good book – my only complaint is that I really would have liked it to have a glossary. There’s a quote on the cover that says “The Toss of a Lemon” joins the company of great novels on India.” – Yann Martel, author if “Life of Pi” Perhaps if I had read all the others, I would have known what words like tiffin (basically a lunchbox) and Mami as opposed to Mama meant (aunty, mommy, grandma) – knowing things like that would have made the book easier to understand. It’s enjoyable anyway, and I recommend it – even if, like me, you have NOT read the other “great novels on India.”


Don’t let its heft dissuade you. It is interesting throughout, especially seeing how life and the world changes around Sivakami, still set in her orthodox Brahmin ways.

This is a very sad, truly haunting book, whose images and impressions will linger with you long after you’ve set the finished book down.

Set in two times, 1942 occupied France and in today’s Paris, the novel follows the stories of two very different women, and how their lives intersect.

The first is Sarah Starzynski, a ten-year-old girl, born in France to her Polish Jewish immigrant parents. She and her 4-year-old brother Robert have been shielded from the meaning and events of the war, and when they are made to wear yellow stars on their clothing, her mother explains that it is because they should be proud to be Jewish. So when the events of July 16, 1942 – the great Vélodrome d’Hiver round-up – take place, her ignorance leads to tragedy. Because the men who come to take them away are French policemen, not the scary Germans, Sarah lets her brother go to their “secret hiding place,” and complies when he asks her to lock him in, and take the key. They both assume she’ll be home in a little while. Their mother knows about the little cupboard, so it is always stocked with a jar of water, some bread and a flashlight.

The main character in today’s Paris is Julia, an American journalist married to a native Parisian. Assigned to do a story on “the Vel d’Hiv” for its upcoming anniversary, she faces ignorance and denial from the French almost everywhere she turns. Younger French folk have never heard of it, and her Parisian husband and his family don’t want to talk about it. In speaking with his grandmother, Mamé, she begins to make connections about the apartment they are currently renovating, and her inlaws, always cold to her, resent her doing any digging.

Julia, who grew up in Boston, had never heard of “the Vel d’Hiv” round-up, and neither had I. Julia’s research, and Sarah’s story of her family’s treatment at the hands of the French policemen, combine for a riveting, and tragic tale. It is not all depressing though, as we also follow Julia’s own story as she is dealing with what she learns as her own marriage is ending and a new life is beginning.

This is an excellent book, compelling and well-written, and once I started it, I read it until I finished it in one night. I completely reccomend this book to anyone who believes we must learn our history in order to not repeat it. The real facts behind the novel are given at the end, in a section called “Historical perspective” and the whole book will haunt you and stay with you forever. It is no wonder it was an International Bestseller, and I fully expect it to be one here as well. It is scheduled to be released in October 2008.

Released last September in English, this is a novel by the Swedish author Henning Mankell, famous for the Kurt Wallander mysteries. It is always interesting to me to read books from other perspectives than normal. It is a fascinating book, but very, very sad. I’d still recommend, though, as it lingers in your brain after you’ve finished the story, which is always a good sign.

The main character, Louise Cantor, is a Swedish archaeologist working on a dig in Argolis, Greece, has made a career putting together pieces of the past, often quite literally from shards of pottery and bone. Satisfied in her work, long-divorced and content with staying that way, her world is turned inside out when she, travelling for a conference back in Sweden, discovers the body of her 25-year-old only child, son Henrik, dead of no apparent cause in his apartment. The police rule it a suicide, but Louise is convinced it is not.

In trying to understand Henrik’s death, and his life, she begins reading papers in his apartment, and starts to try to piece together events, like her work in archeology has trained her to do. More and more layers of complexity appear, and she travels to Spain, and to Africa, retracing Henrik’s journeys and meeting people who knew him, trying to find answers. The title of the book comes from some of Henrik’s papers, concerning the disappearance of JFK’s brain after the autopsy, and the mystery surrounding it, which puzzles Louise, as she had no idea he had any interest in the American president. She even contacts her ex-husband, who intentionally disappeared years before, but kept in touch with their son.

The more Louise digs, the more complex, and sinister things get. The story involves AIDS, unethical medical experimentation and personal and political tragedies, the realities of life in rural and desperately poor Africa, and the growing suspicion that Henrik was murdered for the work he was doing that was about to combat some of the horrors he had seen. It is a sad book, beginning with a death, and more and more people die as Louise pursues her relentless quest to understand her only child’s death and life. It might be depressing in someone else’s hands, but Mankell keeps his main character interesting enough, and the plot just complicated enough to keep you guessing even beyond the last page. The people she encounters are also multi-layered and deeply drawn, and like Louise, you get the feeling you just don’t know who to believe or trust.

This is not a book for the squeamish, by the way. There is plenty of illness, disease, and blood to turn anyone’s stomach, and enough moral ambiguities to make anyone think. But I do recommend it, especially if you are a fan of mysteries and like figuring things out.

The date of the title, and the cover’s image of the “rising sun” Japanese flag give away the time and place of this book. But it isn’t set on that date, rather it is set in the days, and through flashbacks, the years leading up to Japan’s bombing of Pearl Harbor. The main character is an American child of missionary parents who came to Japan in the 1920s to bring Christianity to the heathens. Harry, however, is pretty much left to his own devices, and grows up going to school with Japanese boys, and being more than an outcast – he is forever the target of every military training exercise. Still, he absorbs far more love for Japan than his parents would have approved of, and makes friends and finds his place in the local culture in Tokyo, albeit in the steamier side with prostitutes, geishas, actors and theatre people.

Here he remains as an adult, somewhat torn in his sympathies – not really feeling American, but reminded at every turn how un-Japanese he is. He runs a bar, falls in love with a difficult Japanese woman, Michiko, and navigates the tricky currents of cross-cultural dealings in an increasingly fanatically nationalistic land.

It’s more of an education of samurai and Japanese culture than a mystery or thriller, I found, and the whole “will-he or won’t-he leave” dilemma that is the purported crux of the plot seems almost incidental in the end. Characters – good and bad and beautiful and ugly and very Japanese and not-so – populate the story, and Harry’s relationships to them and how he interacts are far more interesting. It serves more as a culture lesson, really.

So interesting but not suspenseful, but you might enjoy it anyway. I did.

You know an author has made it, when before you even see the “New York Times Bestselling Author” on the cover, you notice her name is set in a (much) bigger typeface than the actual title of the book. So it is with Lisa Jackson. She’s a mystery writer, and I have read, and enjoyed, her work before.


This is a mystery in the classic sense. Strong woman main character, but with a “past,” male villian who is completely evil, and other targets to lead up to the inevitable confrontation. As is often the case in such novels, the other murders before the main character is threatened are prostitutes, and the main character, Dr. Sam, A.k.a. Samantha, is not only wealthy but beautiful, and a celebrity – a radio talk show host and psychologist. And single, of course, so there is the requisite tension between the love interest, the villian and the reader getting to figure out which is which, and how they all fit into the equation.


All in all, a quick read. Fun if you like murder-mystery books, and it will keep you guessing. It is also set in Lousiana, so there is plenty of “local color,” and we all, because of Hurricane Katrina, even have heard of Lake Ponchetrain, not just New Orleans. Plenty of R-rated stuff, so not for the kiddies, and Jackson does sustain the tension until the very last chapter, and the reveal.


If you like mysteries, you’ll like this!

Okay, there are no fairies or magic involved, but this is just a very sweet story with a nice happy ending. That’s why I say it is like a fairy tale, as it actually has an ending, and certain individuals do live happily ever after, and some events stretch credulity a little, but don’t let this dissuade you. I still smile seeing this book in my pile.

The Fatima of the title is a plain, ordinary Tunisian woman who comes to Paris, France to replace her much more slender and fashionable sister Rachida, who died suddenly (falling skylight on the head) while working for an elderly French countess. See, fairy tale-like, right? But Fatima is niether slender nor fashionable, and while her own habit of listening to her neighbor’s troubles and quietly advising them brings them comfort and happiness, she is not happy herself. She had been married, not very happily, but her husband has moved to America years before, and recently sent divorce papers so he can marry an American woman. So she is known as an unlucky woman in her Tunisian village.

The Parisian Countess is demanding and exacting in her ideas, even regarding her elderly poodle, but she is not the evil witch she first appears to be cast. She and the normally calm Fatima have a rough time at first, but the way their relationship evolves is at the heart of the story. Fatima’s gentle presence helps many she encounters, and lives are changed. We discover Paris through Fatima’s eyes, and it is obvious the authors love the city, and its neighborhoods and eccentricities. And though she misses her warm, beautiful home country, Fatima finds a new life for herself, and an unexpected romance and dare we say good fortune for her and her newfound friends ensues.

It is a sweet little book, with completely lovable characters, and it just made me smile. I recommend it!