Leaving Everything Most Loved by Jacqueline Winspear

This book features a weak, and ultimately forgettable, mystery that allows Maisie to dither about her future. I had assumed that she had decided against marrying James Compton based on the previous book, but she's still considering it, and frankly I hardly understand why she cares either way. The time period is still fascinating, but I don't think Ms. Winspear uses it as well as she used to. I wonder if this series has been over extended.

A History of American Higher Education by John R. Thelin

This book gives a broad overview of the history of higher education in the United States from its colonial beginnings until 2000. It does a really nice job teasing out some of the nuances, especially in terms of the relationship between state and federal governments and institutions of higher education--what does it mean to be a public institution? what were the results of the Morrill Land Grant act? It also incorporates the history of women and people of color in education into its history, rather than isolating these groups in short, separate chapters. Thelin always has his eye on two goals: present an honest history that really looks at the changes in higher education (rather than single-mindedly valorizing the past as better and bemoaning the present) and show how we can learn from the past (successes and mistakes) to make higher education serve the country more successfully than ever. At times Thelin repeats the same anecdote, and the book aims at a big-picture rather than an in-depth account, but this is a great introduction to the history of higher education in the United States.

Monstrous Regiment by Terry Pratchett

This book starts with a war in Borogravia--not that that's anything new--there's almost always a war on in Borogravia. But this time, Polly Perks is in on the action as she has joined the army to bring her brother back. Polly, now known as Ozzer, slowly realizes that she's not in an entirely normal regiment when someone hands her an extra pair of socks in the latrine. And when the women finally start getting honest about going to war, Borogravia finally has a chance of a better life for all of its citizens.

The Twelve Tribes of Hattie by Ayana Mathis

This book tells the story of a woman's life through the viewpoints of her children--starting with the twins who died young, and ending with a granddaughter. I loved the way each viewpoint expanded the story, so we could see Hattie's many different sides and her struggle to determine her identity in the face of the demands of her family. The book was lyrical and well-plotted. I look forward to Ms. Mathis's next book.

Blood Read: The Vampire as Metaphor in Contemporary Culture edited by Joan Gordon and Veronica Hollinger

This collection of essays examines the role of the vampire in contemporary literature. Its essays are grouped into four categories: the development of the vampire metaphor in an historical continuum, on writing vampire fictions, the role of disease and disease metaphors in writing contemporary vampire fictions (especially AIDS), and the vampire as an other (especially related to sexuality). I found some of the essays in the collection stronger than others ("Consuming Youth: The Lost Boys Cruise Mallworld" by Rob Latham on the ways in which the film The Lost Boys enacts the capitalist/vampire metaphor in our contemporary economy was particularly good), but all of the essays do better with reading a given text or set of texts than theorizing in new and exciting ways.

Sweet Death, Kind Death

Kate Fansler is called to investigate a suicide that's not a suicide in this book. Most of Kate's problems come from the fact that woman who's died, Patrice Umphelby, seems clearly to have drowned by the autopsy results. Kate spends a fair amount of time investigating Patrice's obsession with death, but it's details that come right before the denouement that provide us with the motive and the means of murder. Another one that makes it hard for the reader to play detective.

Death in a Tenured Position by Amanda Cross

In this book Professor Kate Fansler is called to Harvard to offer moral support to an old friend from grad school. This friend, who has just been selected to be the first woman to hold a chair in Harvard's English department, quickly alienates the department (which was already disposed towards hostility) and is just as quickly murdered. This book was much better on the question of women in academia than on the murder itself. Cross writes in a style that sounds of its time, but which is nevertheless charming.

Let the Dead Bury Their Dead by Randall Kenan

This collection of short stories, mostly set in the fictional neighborhood of Tims Creek, North Carolina, delights with its beauty, humor, and meta-fictional commentary. The stories feature a wide range of protagonists, and gradually set out a depiction of a community with memorable characters. I particularly loved "Clarence and the Dead (and What do they tell you, Clarene? and The Dead Speak to Clarence)," "Things of This World ; or, Angels Unawares," and "Let the Dead Bury Their Dead; Being the Annotated Oral History of the Former Maroon Society called Snatchit and then Tearshirt and later the Town of Tims Creek, North Carolina [circa 1854-1985]." The stories show the magic inherent in everyday life and satirize academic attempts to interpret or explain the community.

The Technologists by Matthew Pearl

This book focuses on the early years of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Even as the school prepares to give young men (and at least one young woman) a technical instead of a classical education, doubters throughout the city of Boston worry that the new technologies being developed will replace jobs. Things get worse when a series of mysterious disasters that obviously required scientific expertise to pull off throw even more suspicion on the Institute. A group of seniors, lead by a charity student, and the lone female student, a freshman, work together (and under the nose of the Institute) to try to solve the mystery of the disasters before it's too late for Boston and for MIT. I enjoyed the plot--the mystery worked really well (with some nicely planted red herrings). The style was a little annoying--I don't doubt the nineteenth century slang is accurate, but it rings in an irritating way, and none of the characters sound like they're real people. Still, it's an enjoying light read.

A Marked Man by Barbara Hamilton

This mystery features the sleuthing skills of Abigail Adams, who must come up with the true murderer of an arrogant Crown official when one of her husband's friends is falsely accused. Henry Knox, in love with the woman the official was trying to marry and a Son of Liberty, if he gave evidence against other traitors in return for his life, could condemn John Adams and many of his friends. The book does a good job with the historical fiction aspects of the story--and I think especially good with imagining Adams's character in the context of her time. I also liked the mystery plot, which was clever, and relied on techniques and observations available in 18th century life. While there were some clear clues pointing towards the solution, it may be one of those mysteries where the answer is a bit too complex, but not so much so that it would put me off reading other books by this author.

The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan

This book starts with "the problem that has no name"--the ennui, depression, and discontent of housewives in the 1960s--and traces that problem to larger questions of social structure. While parts of this book seem dated (thank goodness!), the questions of not only the social structures that lead to this problem, but also how we allowed it to happen (after women had already earned the legal right to vote) still seem relevant today. Friedan supports her case with both anecdotes and statistics. Worth reading for historic interest, at least.

Culture and Imperialism by Edward W. Said

This book in some ways picks up where Orientalism left off, but in other ways it is far more universal in its reach. Said contends that empires generally--and especially the British, French, and American empires of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries--do not exist as merely political and economic formations, but must also be supported and reinforced by the culture of the metropole. Similarly, though, resistance to imperialism, as it arises, also bears a cultural mark. This book combines a great idea with compelling close readings ranging from Austen to Conrad to C.L.R. James and beyond. As I read, I realized that lots of my ideas about both empire and how we can use literature and other cultural productions to understand, reinforce, and contest empire, come from this monumental study. This study gives critics a standard to which to aspire both in its content and its style.

Literature After Feminism by Rita Felski

This book takes critics of feminist criticism and feminist readings of literature to task. It contends that these critics don't account for the broad variety and nuance of feminist readings (and often set up a straw man that's both unrealistic and easy to attack). Felski looks for better ways to read literature written by and about women. The book addresses a more general (rather than specific) audience and its arguments are necessarily short--it covers a lot of territory in a little amount of time.

The Inadvertent Epic: From Uncle Tom's Cabin to Roots by Leslie A. Fiedler

This book contends that there's a female, domestic tradition in American literature that critics ignore or dismiss at their peril. Fiedler traces this tradition from Uncle Tom's Cabin to Dixon's The Leopard's Spots and The Clansman (and Birth of a Nation) to Gone With the Wind (both the novel and the movie) and ending with Alex Haley's Roots. This book still seems representative of an older form of criticism (more observations than quotations and little direct engagement with a broader critical conversation). I appreciate Fiedler's attempts to reopen and redefine the literary canon, though I'm not sure he gets there with this book.

Snow White by Donald Barthelme

I was intrigued by the playfulness of the language in
this book. Certain words are regularly twisted (bath to baff, housewife to horsewife). Of course, the fairy tale itself is a strange amalgamation of Snow White (in the Grimm and Disney versions) and Rapunzel. There are hints (at least to my mind) of the story of Cyrano de Bergerac as well. In this muddle of cultural references there's a lot going on with both gender politics and waste. Definitely one of those books you can't attempt to fully understand in whole: the pieces don't fit together nicely into a neat puzzle.

The Fifth Woman by Henning Mankell

This murder mystery is like many of Mankell's: it has the mystery, but it also deals with the question of what the role of the police in civil society is. As in other books in this series, the murders are prompted by the murderer's sense that justice is not being done, and the victims are reprehensible. Still, Mankell (and Wallander, his detective) demonstrate a faith in justice and in the police to solve even the most carefully-planned and executed murders.

Caleb's Crossing by Geraldine Brooks

I enjoyed this book which imagines the story of the first Wampanoag graduate of Harvard (Caleb) from the perspective of a minister's daughter (Bethia) who befriends him. The figure of Caleb is historical, but Brooks admits in a note that she has imagined his character. I particularly liked the book's attention to religion and the role of religion in the early settlement of New England, and the book's interest in education: especially in who gets it and in under what conditions. Finally, the book paid a lot of fruitful attention to what a cross-cultural friendship might look like. Another satisfying read from this author.

Affinity by Sarah Waters

I enjoyed this book, though I found the ending completely surprising. It really examines the way that people related to each other and why people help each other. I found Margaret's family hideous, but I was left wondering whether her choices didn't contribute to her misery. I enjoyed the twist at the end, but if this book were a mystery, I would think the author had left a bit too much out for the reader to be able to make a fair conclusion.

Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe

While this novel is still an early specimen of the form--there are no chapters, for example--I quite enjoyed this book. While Moll says she's repented of her early behavior, she still has made the most of it (despite incest, time in prison, and the rest). I found myself intrigued by how easily she let go of her children (who generally aren't named, and usually are foisted off on someone else to raise) and by the presence of America (the colonies) which play a surprisingly large part in the novel.

Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters

In this book Nancy Astley thinks she's exchanging her boring life helping in her family's oyster restaurant for a fulfilling one when she leaves home to become dresser to Kitty Butler, music hall sensation. But fame (and love) aren't all they promise to be, and Nan keeps finding that she's gotten the worse end of the bargain as woman after woman betrays her. I enjoyed this coming of age story, but like Fingersmith, Waters really only follows one plotline throughout.