But they were really very short books.
A while ago i put in several requests for books at the local public library. For the most part they were for new fiction which was scheduled to be released this spring or summer. I figured they would stagger in slowly, there are several books for which I am number 4 or 5 on the waiting list, and one, the new Michael Chabon novel, for which I am number 45 on the list for the 7 copies held in the 4-county library system. I don’t expect to see that book very soon.
Two books had no list, but they had different release dates so I did not expect them to arrive at the same time. Ha!
After watching the birds nesting by our front door in mid May, I also requested An Episode of Sparrows by Rumer Godden, a book I had loved when I was young. I thought I remembered the story, but could not remember specifically what the book had to do with sparrows, so I thought it was time for a re-read.
The notice came from the library on Wednesday, the day I picked up M and the baby for their long-weekend visit, and I did not get to the library to pick up the books until Saturday. By that time I had three more notices of books that had arrived:
I started the Godden book Saturday night after mother and baby had gone to bed. I finished it Sunday after I returned from my 5 1/2 hour trek to the airport (LGA) and back. When I got home all I wanted to do was curl up in my nice quite bed and read and my wishes were granted. About the time I finished the book it was time to go out to our favorite hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant.
An Episode of Sparrows was much as I remember it, and I enjoyed reading it again. Of course, it very quickly became evident that the title referred to the fact that the Misses Chesney called the street children sparrows. Yet even remembering the story I still found the book exciting and suspenseful. Godden writes well and manages to capture the joys and hope as well as the despair of the children without sentimentality. Even in such a short novel, I felt the characters were all people I knew and could almost see and feel.
The Matts Wahl novel, The Invisible was even better. Both books are well written but the Wahl translation is beautiful — I can’t really judge the original. The story was simultaneously gripping, suspenseful, and quite haunting, really a beautiful story even as it is quite disturbing.
Both novels raised interesting questions about people and human nature, as also does the book I am slowly reading on the bicycle (I haven’t exercised in a week) but more about that later.