Parallel universe.

Pity poor Misha Vainberg. All he wants to do is escape from St. Leninsgrad to return to that mecca of hip hop, New York City, with his South Bronx sweetheart Rouenna. But just because his father (the 1,238th richest man in Russia and renowned for selling an 800 kilogram screw to KGR) happened to off a politically connected Oklahoman, the generals in charge of the INS won't give Misha a visa. And now, when his beloved Rouenna writes from Hunter College (where she is majoring in secretarial skills) that she is carrying on with Jerry Shteynfarb (author of The Russian Arriviste's Hand Job), Misha is desparate enough to head to the oil saturated state of Absurdistan, where a crooked Belgian immigration official has a passport ready for a small fee.

Before the greasy official can hand over Misha's ticket to the Bronx, war breaks out between the Sevo and Svani ethnic groups over the topic of Christ's footrest, and KBR (a subsidiary of Halliburton) quietly sneaks into the country with a sweet deal from the Department of Defense. Soon, Misha finds himself as appointed head of the Office of Multiculturalism in the mostly corrupt government, and it only gets weirder from there. Absurdistan, by Gary Shteyngart (author of The Russian Debutante's Handbook) is a dark comedy that has no limit to the absurdities Misha goes through, each with a biting element of the current state of affairs to it. Sporting a Candide-like sense of optimism through it all (or maybe it's the Adivan), Misha somehow holds on to his sense of purpose, even as missles are being launched from the roof of the Park Hyatt.

Shteyngart has a bitter, ironic tone throughout the book, excepting Misha, who blithely sails through the chaos around him with a minimum of qualms. I had a bit of trouble getting into the book, partly because it moves very quickly. Once Misha arrives in Absurdistan though, the plotting works better as the whirlwind of corruption picks up steam. Touching on the insane policies of yesterday (the Cold War) and today (the war on terror), with the backdrop of American consumerism and Russian fatalism, Absurdistan closes as something of a bad dream for Misha. Freed from the country, he sets out to join Rouenna in the Bronx. The date? September 11, 2001.

The portrait of the family.

Alison Bechdel's new graphic memoir, Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic, has been getting quite a bit of buzz from various quarters, and with good reason. An engrossing, sensitive narrative, Fun Home has restored my faith in the memoir as quality, worthwhile reading. Often ironic, realistically drawn with bluish-green tinged panels and perfectly paced, Bechdel has created a work that goes beyond the dynamics of her particular family to the more universal theme of a child trying to understand who their parents are and how they have shaped their lives.

The title ironically refers not to the Victorian Gothic revival house that Bechdel's father obsessively restored, but to the funeral home that he ran to supplement his income as an English teacher. At the same time that he's agonizing over William Morris wallpaper, his daughter, Alison, is struggling with her own obsessive behavior in the stultified atmosphere of the house. As Alison reaches adolescence, her growing sense of self and budding sexuality coincides with some revelations about her father's own closeted homosexuality. Gradually, Bechdel's father starts sharing his favorite books with her, leading to a tacit understanding between the two.

Bechdel (creator of the comic strip Dykes To Watch Out For) considers her life while making references to some of the books that her father recommends. Touching on Ulysses, the myth of Icarus and Colette's autobiography Earthly Paradise, it becomes clear that books are the common ground between Bechdel and her father, where they can understand each other.

Bechdel's story works very well in a graphic format, and her images convey tensions more tellingly than paragraphs of prose could. The concluding pages may not ultimately answer Bechdel's questions about who her father was, but the final frames have a closing acceptance and ultimate peacefulness. It's a satisfying end to a work of quiet strength.

"Dammit Holmes! It is not elementary!"

It’s a risky proposition for an author to resurrect an iconic literary character for the purpose of a new series; even more questionable is the addition of a sidekick for the famous figure’s comeback. In the world of mystery fiction, no figure is more sacred than Sherlock Holmes. Yet Holmes’ stature has not kept Edgar-awarding winning author Laurie R. King from imagining what the detective would be like had he happened to take a precocious fifteen-year-old girl under his wing and teach her his craft.

Dangerous, yes, but in creating Mary Russell, the apprentice to Holmes' beekeeper in The Beekeeper's Apprentice; or, On the Segregation of the Queen, King has given Holmes a formidable ally. Fiercely intelligent, the staunchly feminist Russell is the perfect match for the idiosyncratic and often misogynist detective. Through tests of increasing difficulty, the two slowly gain each others trust. But just as Russell and Holmes have become a team of considerable prowess, an opponent from Holmes’ past reappears, with nothing less than the destruction of Holmes and all those near to him their only desire.

I haven’t read any of the original Holmes stories, so I can’t say whether King matches Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in terms of literary merit. But King has created an engrossing chess match of a mystery that requires the full concentration of both detectives and the reader. Her depiction of World War I era England is vivid, and the dawning of women's rights coupled with the passing of the Edwardian era creates a tension in the plot. My quibbles are minor: the story occasionally flags as King goes about constructing her plot and characters, and the beginning is entirely too hokey. Since completing The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, King has penned seven more Russell/Holmes titles, and has developed quite a following in the process. It’s an impressive start, and the rest of the series promises to be just as intriguing. Book number two (A Monstrous Regiment of Women) is already on my request list.

It's just a phase.

Ah, those glorious teenage years, full of self-discovery, intellectual stimulation, and the quest to become a well rounded individual. Or at least that’s the plan. The reality is usually more embarrassing and awkward, especially if your best friend turns out to be an ‘enthusiast,’ as Julie Lefkowitz knows all too well. When Ashleigh’s obsession with King Arthur leads to a pots-and-pans coat of armor, or her craze for a local band has them camped out under wet blankets, Julie stoically goes along. But when Ashleigh’s attentions shift to Jane Austen, Julie fears what her friend’s whole hearted enthusiasm will do to her favorite author.

Plenty, as Polly Shulman’s first novel Enthusiasm shows. Drawing on her love for Pride and Prejudice, Ashleigh convinces Julie to crash a local boys prep school to search for her own version of Mr. Darcy. The man is found, in the form of Grandison Parr, and the girls conspire to join the school’s musical in order to be near him and his best friend. But trouble arises when Julie learns that Ashleigh has mistakenly assumed Julie likes Parr’s friend—and has a crush on Parr herself.

Shulman’s effort doesn’t stray too far from formula (a school musical, readings in Romeo and Juliet, the obligatory bad boy, divorced parents), and the Austen twist peters out as quickly as the girls’ interest in the minuet. Still, for typical teen formula, Shulman does okay, creating sympathetic teen characters that have a fair amount of depth to them. Enthusiasm might be stronger had it ventured further into the Austen theme, picked up on some the themes of Austen's novel or had a stronger conflict, but on the whole it remains a pleasant if not especially memorable read.

Who wants to be like Kate?

There are some books that appear on bookseller and library shelves that really just beg the question: What is the point? Various 'gift' books, anything by Mitch Albom, most books penned by celebrities and the style advice book, generally fall into this catagory. Today's book, Style by Kate Spade, can claim two of these characteristics: Spade, the creator of a pricey line of home accessories, stationary, bags, etc. under the ingenious name kate spade, dispenses pithy advice to the stylistically clueless. As a long time member of this group, I thought perhaps Kate might be able to lead me to enlightenment. Alas, not to be: shelve this one firmly in the pointless aisle.

Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on Ms. Spade, as writing about style for a book is a tricky proposition. An author is generally left to rehashing little bits of common style knowledge, while reiterating that 'style is a personal expression.' That's pretty much what happens here, but Spade chooses to fill out some of the remaining white space with her personal style favorites: for example, Kate likes to pair her blues with tangerine, watermelon or taupe, and she considers Barbarella to be a good example of 'style in space.' We also get a watercolor rendering of Mr. Kate Spade's favorite ski hat (a Swix brand blue Nordic knit with a tassel, if you were curious). Fascinating stuff for the Spade fans, but for the rest of us, it doesn't provide a great deal of guidance.

The illustrations provided are watercolors by artist Virginia Johnson. Charming as art, they aren't very useful as guides, and the sporadic instances where they're used makes them even less so. I found the final two sections of the book on the types and maintenance of clothing articles to be somewhat useful, but again, similiar information could be found elsewhere in probably more complete form. Style is one of three books in a series created by Spade (Manners and Occasions being the others), and while one isn't likely to commit a horrendous faux pas following her advice, there's also little chance of breaking new ground either. True style mavens will already know many of the ideas Spade suggests, and others may do just as well browsing fashion magazines or reading up on stylish women of the past.

On the beach (Miami, that is).

Summer is the most forgiving season: you can wander about outdoors barefoot, drink another beer safe in the knowledge you'll simply sweat out the alcohol, and indulge in reading equally lasting in nature. Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez's latest novel, Make Him Look Good, is a prime example of the summer read, light in substance and not terribly trying on the mind.

Valdes-Rodriguqez's novel, fittingly, takes place in and around Miami Beach, a locale not known for its substantive culture. The plot revolves around the 'him' of the title, Latin pop sensation Ricky Biscayne and the women in his life: Milan, the deeply enamored secretary of the Las Ricky Chickies fan club; Jasminka, Ricky's Serbian supermodel wife; Irene, the firefighter who has good reason to hate Ricky's guts, and Jill Sanchez, a very poorly disguised caricature of a particular pop star, among others. However, the task of making Ricky look good is increasingly difficult, until Ricky finally gets the ending that he deserves.

Valdes-Rodriguez moves the narrative between different characters in the plot, sometimes in first person, sometimes in third, which can lead to some confusion over just who's talking when. It also leads to some rather laughable point-of-view choices--I had a hard time buying the supernatural powers of a particular cat. Valdes-Rodriguez also struggles somewhat with her characterization. Along with the Sanchez character (which, to be fair, could be passed off as satire), few characters really achieve any sort of depth, especially the men. This in turn plays into a predictable plot, an unfortunate tendency of one character to lapse into valley-girl speak...

Still, I did chuckle at a few of Valdes-Rodriguez's plot twists, and her portrayal of the insanity that is the pop music industry provides some biting satire. Overlooking the flaws, Make Him Look Good might satisfy some beach readers--there are plenty of plot turns, even if you can see them coming a mile off. The novel's strongest aspect is the vivid recreation of Miami's diverse culture, especially that of its Cuban and Latino populations. For those looking for an easygoing beach read, Make Him Look Good provides suitable effervescent entertainment; those seeking something a bit more substantive might wish to pass.

Camara, check. Road map, check. Revolver and political vendetta, check, double check.

It's summertime, and with the impossibly oppressive proof of global warming and freedom from classroom tyranny comes that great American tradition: the road trip vacation. Sarah Vowell, contributing editor for NPR's This American Life, combines this innocent past time with another, less familiar American tradition: the tendency to off our duly-elected head of state. Hence Assassination Vacation, Vowell's journey into the obscure, sometimes scary and surprisingly bizarre history of presidential hitmen. Vowell is the perfect companion on this particular tour: a self-described Mount St. Helens of verbiage on the subject of assassinations, she roots out the more intriguing chesnuts surrounding the deaths of Presidents Lincoln, Garfield and McKinley. Lincoln's demise is well-documented, but Vowell still finds some surprises. From her sleuthing, Americans may always wonder what the second Lincoln term would have accomplished, but for the word 'sockdologizing.' It's a pity in some ways that Garfield and McKinley aren't better known, as the circumstances surrounding their deaths are truly entertaining: Garfield's assassin, Charles Guiteau, may just be the 19th-century equivilent of Michael Jackson in the painful-to-behold-but-still-compelled-to-watch sense. McKinley succumbed to a mere anarchist, yet his campaign to 'bestow' democracy on nations in which the U.S. had substantial financial interests (ahem), Vowell writes, seems entirely too familiar.

Vowell intersperes the historical bits with her actual experiences following in the occasionally poorly documented (or poorly plaqued) footsteps of president and assassin alike, creating a lively and deliciously sarcastic tone to what really is a discussion of a bunch of dead white guys. If there is any linguistic justice, 'Seward plaque' will immediately become part of the American lexicon. Always keen to hypocracies in history and in the current administration, Vowell provides sharp, biting commentary that will actually keep history students awake in class. Assassination Vacation reminds me of another history/travelogue that I supremely enjoyed, Tony Horwitz's Confederates in the Attic: Dispatches from the Unfinished Civil War. Pair the two together and you'll have great reading material for the drives between roadside historical markers and tourist traps.

The Seedy Side of the Cities

Mention Minnesota to most Americans, and the concept of "Minnesota nice" often springs to mind, along with mosquitoes, languid evenings at The Lake and the 'aw-shucks' wholesomeness of A Prairie Home Companion. Editors Julie Schaper and Steven Horwitz do their best to dispel this notion of the North Star State with their collection Twin Cities Noir. Part of Akashic Books' series of noir anthologies centered on various locales, Twin Cities Noir features familiar metropolitan landmarks and occasional episodes from Minneapolis/St. Paul history, often with a tinge of Midwestern dry humor (or fatalism, if you're a Lutheran). So Schaper and Horwitz give us bodies bobbing in the Mississippi ("Bums" by William Kent Krueger), a snow emergency that turns explosive ("Noir Neige" by K. J. Erickson), the uneasy transition to American culture faced by Hmong immigrants (David Housewright's "Mai-Nu's Window") and the gangsters who found sanctuary in Depression-era St. Paul ("If You Harm Us" by Gary Bush), among others.

Authored by Minnesotans from varying publishing backgrounds, the collection is a bit uneven in quality and 'noirishness.' A few stories climaxed into bona fide cliffhangers, but others seemed strangely lackluster or predictable. Perhaps the limitations of the genre and form are partly to blame for this, but there's no harm in skipping over stories that don't appeal, as each entry stands on its own. Like other titles in the series, Twin Cities Noir will primarily draw those who call the Cities home; noir fans will appreciate a setting away from the usual noir scene, with shady characters that you wouldn't want to see walking the streets of Lake Wobegone.