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BBAW: Forgotten Treasure

Sure we’ve all read about Freedom and Mockingjay but we likely have a book we wish would get more attention by book bloggers, whether it’s a forgotten classic or under marketed contemporary fiction. This is your chance to tell the community why they should consider reading this book!

I have so many forgotten treasures on my bookshelves that I don’t even know where to start. In fact, I’ve written on this subject before.

Under the Radar: An Adult Fiction Trio. Don Camillo, Andrea Orsini, and Rima the Bird Girl: if you don’t recognize the names of these fictional characters, you should. They’re all fascinating characters from popular fiction of the past.

Under the Radar: Christian Fiction. “Christian fiction” has gotten a bad rap, partially deserved. Some so-called “Christian fiction” (just like some YA fiction and some post-modern fiction) is nothing more than a bad sermon disguised as an even worse story. However, some of the fiction published by Christian publishing houses is not only exemplary and literary, but also just good reading.

Madeleine L’Engle. I don’t know if Ms. L’Engle is under-appreciated or not. But my favorite of her books, The Love Letters, is out of print. Even so, I’ve managed to get a few bloggers to read it. Maybe you would enjoy this story of failed promises and redemptive love. Check out the discussion at Amy’s review, Deanna’s thoughts, and Carrie’s journal.

Lin Yutang’s The Importance of Living was a bestseller in its day (1937), but it’s out of print and forgotten nowadays. If you enjoy light-hearted essays from a Chinses American perspective, you’ll love Mr. Lin’s book. It’s an antidote for those who take themselves too seriously.

Finally, if you’re still searching for more treasure, my unfinished list of the 100 Best Fiction Books of all time is a great resource. Claim a treasure and please be sure that if you do, you come back and tell me about it. We all like to know what treasure troves we’ve unlocked for other readers.

Hush by Eishes Chayil

Eishes Chayil apparently means “Woman of Valor,” the ultra-Orthodox Jewish term for a woman who keeps the Law, raises a family, and sustains the Jewish community in a particularly noble and Godly manner. Eishes Chayil is also the pseudonym for the ultra-Orthodox, Chassidic Jewish Brooklynite who wrote this story of a community bound by laws and customs that ensure their survival and strengthen their commitment to one another and to God but also make them vulnerable to pressure from within that community to cover up the most damaging of secrets.

I don’t know how to write about this book without giving possible spoilers. So you are warned.

The book is most obviously comparable to Laurie Halse Anderson’s classic, Speak. Both books are about the difficulty of speaking out about rape and child abuse. But Hush goes one step further to immerse the reader in a Hassidic Jewish community in which no one even acknowledges the possibility of sexual abuse, a community which speaks a language in which there isn’t even a word for “rape” or “molestation.” The twenty-first century ultra-Orthodox community of the novel is set in the center of New York CIty, and yet the families there live in a different world, a world of no TV, no computer, separate schools, separate stores, and segregated lives. The goyim, Gentiles, are scary people who not chosen by God and not associated with by devout Chassidish (Hassidic Jews). Even other groups of Orthodox Jews are suspect and not assured of acceptance by God and by the Chassidish. To report a case of rape or molestation, a child would first have to find the words and the understanding to know and verbalize what was happening. Then, he would have to have the courage to step outside the community that had nurtured and formed him and to accept the accusations of betrayal and deception that would immediately follow.

Hush tells the story of two friends, Gittel and Devory, growing up in the Chassidic community in New York City. Gittel is a beloved daughter of a devout and Torah-loving family, and so is Devory. The two girls experience all sorts of adventures together: dressing up for Purim, befriending a goyim neighbor, watching the movie Cinderella at the home of a more modern Jewish friend. But when the two girls are ten years old, tragedy strikes, and Gittel is told repeatedly to forget, to pretend that nothing ever happened, to move on with her life, to hush.

There are couple of problems with the novel. The action moves back and forth from 2003, when Gittle and Devora are ten years old, to 2009-10 when a grown-up Gittel must decide whether to forget or to speak out. As a result, the timeline becomes a bit confusing at times. And a few scenes seemed unnecessary to me, as if they were stories that the author wanted to tell about the ultra-Orthodox community, but stories that didn’t really fit into the arc and purpose of the novel. All of the novel reads like a memoir at times, and the author herself says, “It is a story I wrote about life in the ultra-Orthodox Chassidic world–about our joy, about our warmth, and about our deep-seated denial of anything that did not follow tradition, law, or our deeply ingrained delusions.” The anonymous author is obviously writing from experience. And she gets a little preachy toward the end of the book.

To speak of minor problems, however, is to quibble. The book held me spellbound, and I finished it in a day. I love entering a foreign culture and learning to see my own cultural assumptions from a different perspective. I wondered how different this community and fierce self-protectiveness was from the ultra-conservative homeschool community, except that the homeschool community doesn’t have a tradition and a heritage that goes back hundreds of years. I can picture there being a homeschool community in which the pressure to keep silent about accusations of abuse was paralyzing. After all, we want to protect the innocent from false accusations. And we want to preserve the innocence of our children by not even speaking to them of the possibility of abuse. And we don’t want to believe it could possibly happen in our group, in our community. It’s a difficult subject, but one that many children and adults are forced to confront.

This book is being marketed as young adult fiction. I would recommend it for mature young adults and adults. The descriptions are not sexually graphic at all, but the content is by its very nature, mature. The publication date for this novel is today, September 14, 2010.

Eishes Chayil speaks out about child abuse and reveals her real name.

Diamond Ruby by Joseph Wallace

I am not sure what made me pick up this book from the library. I can’t find a review in the Saturday Reviews, and I don’t have the book on my TBR list. I am not a baseball fan. I had never heard of author Joseph Wallace, although he’s published several nonfiction books mostly on baseball history. Diamond Ruby is his first novel.

However, even though I’m not a baseball fan, I do like reading well-written books about baseball, especially fiction (see Fascination #23). So, I either read about this book somewhere and thought it sounded interesting, or I saw it on the New Fiction shelf at the library and thought it was worth a try. Either way I’m glad I found and got to read about Diamond Ruby.

In 1923 seventeen year old Ruby Thomas lives in Brooklyn. She has become responsible for the care and upbringing of her two nieces, ten year old Amanda and six year old Allie, since their mother is dead and their father is AWOL. Fortunately for Ruby and the girls, Ruby does have one freakish ability that she can parlay into cash: Ruby can throw a baseball faster and better than most men. In fact she’s just about as fast and accurate as the great Walter Johnson, maybe better.

As the story continues, Ruby’s life and livelihood become enmeshed in the politics of NYC, the enforcement of Prohibition, and the world of professional baseball. She becomes friends with baseball star Babe Ruth and heavyweight champion Jack Dempsey. She draws the enmity and disdain of the Ku Klux Klan and of baseball’s all-powerful commissioner Kennesaw Mountain Landis. She finds out that baseball, like many sports, has a dark side, and she finds herself a target for opportunists, gamblers, and gangsters who see her only as “a piece of meat” ripe for exploitation.

Such a good book. Diamond Ruby is a strong, courageous young lady with a talent that to her is physical aberration. Ruby has unusually long arms. In fact, the kids around where she lives growing up call her “Monkey GIrl.” Ruby figures her freakishly long arms are in great part responsible for pitching abilities, and she doesn’t know whether to hide her deformity as much as possible or to be thankful that it enables her to feed herself and her nieces. So part of the book is about self-acceptance and gratitude, themes that resonate with anyone but especially with young adults.

This book would be a perfect crossover book for adults and young adults, and it could appeal to lots of different subgroups of readers: those who read sports stories, or historical fiction, or feminist lit, or crime and suspense. It incorporates history and historical events such as the 1918 influenza epidemic, the opening of Coney Island, the death of President Warren Harding, Prohibition, the Yankees’ win in the 1923 World Series, and a heavyweight boxing match between Jack Dempsey and Luis Firpo. But Wallace never loses sight of the story to over-emphasize either sports or history. Diamond Ruby is a rollicking good story about an engaging character who wins the reader’s sympathies until we’re rooting for her both on and off the baseball diamond.

Shanghai Girls by Lisa See

Pearl and May Chin are sisters, growing up in Shanghai, 1937. The two young ladies are also Beautiful Girls, a phrase that carries a specific denotation in the modern, cosmopolitan culture of Westernized Shanghai. Pearl and May are models whose portraits sell everything from cigarettes to soap. The girls are living a fast, sophisticated, and carefree life, when suddenly everything changes. The girls’ father owes money to the mob, and in order to pay them he arranges a complicated deal that involves arranged marriages for his daughters to two Chinese boys from San Francisco that they’ve never met. And at the same time the Japanese army is sweeping over northern China, headed for Shanghai. Chiang Kai Shek and his Chinese nationalists are opposing the Japanese, and the two forces meet on the streets of Shanghai.

This first part of the book was illustrative of fact that at the same time that huge historical events are taking place, individuals are playing out their own dramas. May and Pearl hardly notice the advance of the Japanese army at first; they are too caught up in their own battle with their father. Then, they realize that their American husbands may be their only ticket to escape the horrors of war and the Japanese occupation of Shanghai and surrounding areas.

Most of the rest of the story deals with May and Pearl and their relationship as sisters and their adjustment to living in a new place and a new culture. The Chinese are not particularly welcome in pre-WW2 San Francisco. There is much bigotry to endure or overcome, and many decisions must be made about how to handle encounters with the U.S. government and with non-Chinese neighbors and citizens. But the center of the story always comes back to the relationship between May and Pearl. Are they rivals or best friends? Or both? How can the two sisters see each other’s faults and shortcomings so clearly and still remain the central source of love and support for one another?

The book made me think not so much of my own sister, although we are good friends, as it did of my children and their relationships. Sometimes they exhibit the same jealousies and misunderstandings that May and Pearl have, but at the same time I see them being fiercely protective and defensive of one another. I do believe that some of my children are each other’s best friends, and that makes me happy, even when it involves a closeness that can see and exploit the other’s weaknesses. The sister/sister relationship in particular is fraught with peril, but also can be rewarding and full of joy. On whom can you depend if not your sister?

Shanghai Girls was a moving look at a pair of Chinese sisters and their perilous journey to America and also to true sisterhood. I enjoyed the trip.

What some other bloggers thought about Shanghai Girls:

Dawn at She Is Too Fond of Books: “The fictional Pearl and May, like many actual Chinese in America during this period, endured. Shanghai Girls is a work of historical fiction that both entertains and teaches.”

A Book a Week: “The sisters in Shanghai Girls have a relationship that is clichéd and predictable. The dialogue is almost painfully banal. Yet the settings (1930’s Shanghai, 1940’s and ‘50’s Los Angeles) are great, very evocative and filled with detail.”

Darlene at Peeking Between the Pages: “I have to say that Shanghai Girls really ends in the middle of nowhere. I was shocked when I got to the last page as I still expected more story but that leads me to believe there will be a sequel and that I’m looking forward to.”

Kailana/Kelly at The Written Wordhas a joint review with Marg of The Adventures of an Intrepid Reader. Good discussion there, and their review confirms that there is supposed to be a sequel.

The Secret Keeper by Paul Harris

Paul Harris is a British journalist, and The Secret Keeper, according to the author blurb, is his debut novel. It’s a good one.

The story, set in twenty-first century Sierra Leone, follows journalist Danny Kellerman as he attempts to discover the reasons behind a letter from his former girlfriend:

Danny,

I need you. I’m in trouble. I know it’s been too long. I’m sorry. It’s my fault and I hope you forgive me. I can’t use the phones or email to ask you this. They are not safe. I need you to come to Freetown to help me. I’ll explain it all then.

All my love as ever,
Maria

When Danny receives Maria’s letter, he’s immediately drawn back into thoughts of his previous stay in Freetown, Sierra Leone, four years earlier. And he remembers Maria, the beautiful American aid worker whose life’s work was to rescue and rehabilitate the child soldiers of the RUF (Revolutionary United Front).

Since the novel is set in a still violent and unsettled Sierra Leone, where people are trying to forget the past as much as deal with it, there is a lot of nasty violence in the book. There are also way too many f-bombs. However, I chose to ignore these issues because I’m quite interested in Africa, and particularly in Sierra Leone. I have a young friend who left that country as a boy over ten years ago, and who was severely injured in the violence that engulfed Sierra Leone in the 1990’s. My friend, E., survived; many young boys who would be his age now did not.

I learned some things from this novel that I did not know before:

Sierra Leone is rich in diamonds, and in fact, much of the war there was fueled and financed by the diamond mines. I sort had an impression that diamonds had something to do with the trouble in Sierra Leone, but the book and other stuff I read online clarified that connection.

Many of the diamond mines used to be operated by Lebanese businessmen. The Lebanese have been immigrating to Sierra Leone since the late 1800’s, and by the mid-twentieth century many of them had become rich and powerful as traders, particularly traders of diamonds, both legally and illegally.

The RUF army was brutal. The leaders of the army recruited children, ages seven to twelve, and often forced them to murder their parents and other family members. They also had a “tradition” of amputating hands, arms, and legs of captured soldiers and of civilians. However, they were non-ideological, espousing neither Marxism nor fascist nationalism nor any other real ideology. They seemingly thrived on pure evil and violence and a desire for power.

The war in Sierra Leone is estimated to have cost the lives of 200,000 people, with countless wounded.

The Secret Keeper was a disturbing spy-novel look at a modern day atrocity. The book was originally recommended to me by SuziQOregon at Whimpulsive.

Sunday Salon: Books Read in July, 2010

Nonfiction:
River of Doubt: Theodore Roosevelt’s Darkest Journey by Candice Millard. Semicolon review and thoughts about TR here.

Adult fiction:
The Big Steal by Emyl Jenkins.

Pastwatch: The Redemption of Christopher Columbus by Orson Scott Card. Recommended by Seth Heasley at Collateral Bloggage. Semicolon review here.

Young adult and children’s fiction:
Princess of Glass by Jessica Day George. This Cinderella story, published in May 2010, is also a sequel/companion to Princess of the Midnight Ball. I liked it, but I found that after reading and enjoying the book, I didn’t really have much to say about it. Here’s a full review from Charlotte’s Library if you’re interested in re-imagined fairy tales.

They Never Came Back by Caroline B. Cooney.

Cross My Heart and Hope to Spy by Ally Carter. Great book in the Gallagher Girls series.

Bamboo People by Mitali Perkins. Semicolon review here.

Out of My Mind by Sharon M. Draper. Semicolon review here.

Started, but unfinished:
Good Behavior: A Memoir by Nathan L. Henry. Wa-a-a-a-y to much information about the dark recesses of the mind and violent human behavior.

Run With the Horseman by Ferrol Sams. God writing, somewhat tiresome and crude subject matter.

Trail of Crumbs: Hunger, Love and the Search for Home by Kim Sunee. More thoughts on these three unfinished books here.

The Children’s Book by A.S. Byatt. I actually spent quite a bit of time on this one and read more than half of the book, probably three-fourths. However, I finally realized that I didn’t like anyone in the book, and I didn’t believe that that many unsympathetic and unsavory characters could inhabit one small community. Possession was much better.

I’m also slowly reading through Edmund Morris’s Theodore Rex, a biography of the adult Theodore Roosevelt. I will finish it, but it may take a while.

Pastwatch: The Redemption of Christopher Columbus by Orson Scott Card

Wow! This historical fiction/science fiction novel by a master of both genres was so absorbing that I stayed up late to finish reading it and to find out what would happen to Christopher Columbus in a re-imagined world, changed by time travelers from the future.

The book reminded me of Connie Willis’s Doomsday Book and To Say Nothing of the Dog. THe premise is similar: scientists from the future have found a way to look back, maybe even travel back, into the past by means of a “time machine.” Willis’s books are funnier, especially To Say Nothing of the Dog. However, Card’s Pastwatch delves more deeply into the inherent problems and temptations such an invention would bring to the attention of the scientists using it. Can we change the past to eliminate suffering and punish wrong-doers? Are our cultural mores and expectations really better than those of past cultures? If so, how do we know that? What about cultural imperialism? Is it a valid concern? TO be very specific, if you had the means to rescue a young man who is being sold into slavery, would you have the responsibility to do so? What if one change in the events of the past sets into motion a series of events that totally changes the future that you yourself are a part of, the so-called “butterfly effect”? All of these questions are a part of Pastwatch, but the book doesn’t give terribly satisfying answers to most of the questions. THe ending is somewhat overly optimistic, in my opinion.

Still, as I said, it’s a great story that includes both history (Christopher Columbus, native Central American cultures, and slavery) and futuristic/dystopian/utopian elements. I enjoyed it very much. If you’ve already read Pastwatch and liked it, I would recommend Doomsday Book by Connie Willis. And if you’ve already read Ms. Willis’s time travel books and enjoyed them, I’d recommend Pastwatch.

Oh, I was also reminded of LOST with scientists and mathematicians trying to explain concepts of time and time travel with time as a stream and distinguishable from what a scientist in the book calls “causality.”

“Two contradictory sets of events cannot occupy the same moment. You are only confused because you cannot separate causality from time. And that’s perfectly natural, because time is rational. Causality is irrational. . . . What you must understand is that causality is not real. It does not exist in time. Moment A does not really cause Moment B in reality. . . . None of these moments actually touches any other moment. That is what reality is—an infinite array of discrete moments unconnected with any other other moment because each moment in time has no linear dimension.”

And if you understand that, could you please give me an aspirin for my headache?

Unleavened Bread by Robert Grant

According to this list of bestselling books of the first decade of the twentieth century, Unleavened Bread by Robert Grant was one of the bestselling books of 1900. Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser, also published in 1900, was not a best seller. Still, the books have much in common. Unleavened Bread is “the story of a woman who abandons her moral standards in her search for prestige and dominance.” Sister Carrie is the story of a girl who abandons her moral standards in her search for money and a life of ease. I suppose Sister Carrie is the darker of the two novels, but both stories dealt with the pressures of getting and maintaining one’s societal status, and both stories implied that money, ease, and acceptance into high society were common, if unworthy, goals for many young women coming of age around the turn of the century.

I don’t think the “getting into society” goal is quite so common or tempting nowadays. But wealth and power and luxury are all still quite alluring. The ending of Unleavened Bread was quite unsatisfactory. Our heroine, or anti-heroine, Selma, connives her way from poverty and obscurity to power and fame, and at the end she enjoys the beatific vision of her husband as he makes his acceptance speech after being elected to the U.S. senate.

Selma heard the words of this peroration with a sense of ecstasy. She felt that he was speaking for them both, and that he was expressing the yearning intention of her soul to attempt and perform great things. She stood gazing straight before her with her far away, seraph look, as though she were penetrating the future even into Paradise.

The End. Oh, by the way, the senator sold his vote and cheated, with his wife’s encouragement, to get the office. But, all’s well that ends well–or not.

A couple of other quotes from the novel:

“A seven mile drive is apt to promote or kill the germs of intimacy.” That’s a drive in a horse drawn carriage or wagon. I would say the same of a five day road trip through West Texas.

“He had chosen as a philosophy of life the smart paradox, which he enjoyed uttering, that he spent what he needed first and supplied the means later; and the the same time he let it be understood that the system worked wonderfully.”
I doubt that system would work for long for anyone who wasn’t already supplied with at least some of the “means.”

Unleavened Bread reminded me of Sister Carrie, of Robert Penn Warren’s All the King’s Men, and of Main Street by Sinclair Lewis. It’s about the thirst for power and popularity, about the Midwest rubes meeting the Eastern establishment, and about the slow but steady dissolution of a woman’s ethical standards in her quest to become rich and fashionable.

You can read Unleavened Bread online at Project Gutenberg.

Mr. Emerson’s Wife by Amy Belding Brown

A few months ago, I first read Best Intentions by Emily Listfield about the disintegration of trust in a marriage and the slippery slope to infidelity. Then I read The Other Side of the Lake by Mary Lawson about adultery and sibling rivalry. To complete the unplanned trilogy, I read Mr. Emerson’s Wife, in which said wife, Lidian Jackson Emerson, is torn between her duty to her husband, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and her love for young Henry David Thoreau. As insightful and psychologically truthful as all three books were, I was ready for something different by the time I finished the third book. Enough adultery, how about some murder, mayhem or injustice? (Just kidding!)

Mr. Emerson’s Wife is the fictionalized history of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s second wife, Lidian. I don’t know how much of the story is true, but I assume the basic timeline of events is factual. For instance, Thoreau actually did live with the Emersons for over two years, including during nine months that RWE was away on an extended tour of Europe. Another friend, Margaret Fuller, also lived with/visited the Emersons for extended periods of time and may or may not have become romantically involved with Mr. Emerson. The Emerson household was unusual to say the least.

Both Emerson and Thoreau are presented in the novel as apostate Christians, having rejected the Christian faith in the name of intellectual honesty. Their “honesty” doesn’t seem to have given either of them much comfort or courage in the face of suffering. Then again, as the novel tells it, Lidian’s faith doesn’t really comfort her much either when the Emersons’ oldest son, Wallie, dies of scarlet fever.

Thoreau is an interesting character in this novel. He seems to able to experience the most horrendous events–the death of his beloved brother, the fire that burned down acres of woods near Concord, and adulterous assignation with Lidian—mourn and grieve deeply, and then block those same events from his memory almost as if they had never occurred. Can a person do that?

I already had an image of Emerson as something of a cold fish. The language he uses in his essays is so formal, almost pretentious, or at least it sounds that way to modern ears. Now, after reading Mr. Emerson’s Wife, I’m not sure I’ll be able to read the essays without probing them for references to Emerson’s personal life. I can’t imagine that I would have survived emotionally or spiritually in the rarified atmosphere of nineteenth century Concord and its transcendentalists, no matter how intellectually stimulating the conversation or how high the moral aspirations. From the perspective of this novel at least, the foundation looks a little too sandy.

What I Read in South Dakota

My motto is, “Never go anywhere without a book.” Our trip to South Dakota was no exception to this rule. Although we saw beautiful scenery, experienced the inspiration of Mount Rushmore, and enjoyed a day at the lake with family and friends–and I ate more good food than any one person should—, I still managed to squeeze in some reading time.

They Never Came Back by Caroline B. Cooney. Recommended by Jen Robinson. Typical Cooney. A case of mistaken identity, or is it, turns into a family mystery and crisis, when Cathy/Murielle must confront the truth about her parents and her past. This one is quite similar to The Face on the Milk Carton in some ways. If you’ve read that one and want to read it again, reworked, you’d like They Never Came Back.

The Big Steal by Emyl Jenkins. Recommended by Carrie at Reading to Know. Cute ‘n cosy mystery, not really a murder mystery, but rather centering on antiques and theft and family history. Antique appraiser Sterling Glass is hired to determine the truth about an insurance claim filed by the museum at Wynderly, home of Hoyt and Mazie Wynfield, now deceased millionaires who furnished their manor with all sorts of novelties and antiques, some of which may not have been what they seemed. I enjoyed it enough that I’d like to look up the first in the series, called Stealing With Style. You might like it, especially if you’re interested in both mysteries and antiques.

Cross My Heart and Hope to Spy by Ally Carter. I really like the Gallagher Girls series by Ally Carter. Suffice it to say that my 15 year old daughter read this book, the fourth in the series, and then we had to stop by the bookstore in Sioux Falls to buy books two and three. I already had the first book in the series at home and refused to buy it again. These books are clean and fun and light-hearted and just right for a vacation time read. Semicolon review of I’d Tell You That I Love You, But Then I’d Have to Kill You.

The ones I didn’t finish:

Good Behavior: A Memoir by Nathan L. Henry. I dipped into this one, an ARC that I was sent by the publishers and that is due out in July, 2010. All I can say is this story is supposed to be a “moving story of redemption” about a sixteen year old who’s sent to jail for armed robbery. I’m sure Nate’s story “tells it like it is.” But I looked at the ending (because the middle didn’t look headed toward redemption at all), and it looks as if Nate is trusting in his own will power and desire to make something of his life to keep him out of trouble. I strongly doubt it will work, and even if he does stay out of jail, he has nothing to give his life meaning other than learning and writing. No Holy Spirit. No Jesus. No God. No church. What happens to Nate when he faces death or suffering? How does he choose good over evil, except in a pragmatic attempt to keep himself from going back to jail again? The book is “gritty” and full off-bombs and other crude and profane language, not to mention sex and murder fantasies and actual violence. Not recommended.

Run With the Horseman by Ferrol Sams. Recommended by Laura at Lines in Pleasant Placesin a comment here.I stuck with this one a lot longer because the writing is delightful. But I finally got tired of Porter Osborne Jr.’s fifteen year obsession with sex of all kinds. The book is very Southern, very funny in places, and as I said quite well-written, but there’s an awful lot of speculation in areas I just wasn’t in the mood to visit.

Trail of Crumbs: Hunger, Love and the Search for Home by Kim Sunee. Recommended by My Friend Amy. Korean American adoptee searches for her identity in France in an illicit relationship with an older man. I felt sorry for Ms. Kim in her lostness, but I lost interest in the search which seemed to be going nowhere interminably, although the recipes were interesting.