I finally finished Joseph Smith, Rough Stone Rolling: A Cultural Biography of Mormonism's Founder by Richard Lyman Bushman, which I read for both the Unread Authors Challenge and the Triple 8 Challenge (and because I was really interested in the subject, of course). It took me about a month to get through it, not because it was boring, but because it is (very densely) packed with information. It required more of me than most things I read, so I wanted to give it the attention it deserved.

Basically, the book is a biography of Joseph Smith, the founder of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (a.k.a. the Mormons), but it's not a traditional recap. Bushman labeled it a "cultural biography," which seems to mean it's an examination of a people/culture instead of just one member. While the book begins with Joseph's birth and ends with his death, it's really not as much about him as it is about the church he created. In a nutshell, Joseph was a boy who felt troubled about religion. He really didn't believe in any of the churches prominent in his day. Confused, he turned to the Holy Bible for answers, where he found a scripture in James which exhorted him to ask God for answers. When he prayed, Joseph said he saw a vision of God the Father and Jesus Christ in which he was told to join no church. He was told he would be given more instruction concerning God's wishes for him, and he was. Through visions and revelations, he was commanded to start a church, which he did. Because he claimed he had spoken with God, Joseph was ridiculed. Yet, people were attracted to Mormon theology and soon Joseph had a large following. He was a man of the people, loved and revered by the Saints (as the Mormons called themselves) as a prophet of God. Outsiders, however, considered him a charlatan, and continually sought the destruction of him and his people. Still, he soldiered on, receiving revelations, publishing scripture (predominantly The Book of Mormon), building cities and temples, leading his people, even running for President of The United States. A controversial figure always, he was martyred in 1844, after which the presidency of the church went to Brigham Young. Today, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is a thriving church known worldwide.

In retracing Joseph's steps, Bushman uses a plethora of sources from interviews to journals to newspaper accounts to original church documents. The amount of information he presents is staggering (the book is 561 pages long, with 177 pages of appendices and indexes). He analyzes Joseph's actions, revelations and policies in great depth. I've been a member of the Church for 32 years, and I've never read a history as complete as this one. Plenty of the information was new to me.

Richard Lyman Bushman is an active member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. He acknowledges that, as such, "pure objectivity is impossible" (xviii). However, I think he did an admirable job of presenting every side of Joseph Smith. He didn't shy away from situations which showed the prophet in an unflattering light, or ignore criticisms from Joseph's contemporaries. He presented the facts and, in effect, said, "Choose for yourself."

I expected Rough Stone Rolling to be a straight biography of Joseph Smith, and it wasn't. I would have liked more information about his personal life, family history and private thoughts. Obviously, there are other biographies out there (including one by Joseph's mother) that contain this information, but I wanted a little more from Bushman himself.

All in all, it was a thoroughly insteresting study that I, personally, found fascinating. Will it appeal to a non-LDS reader? I don't know. Some people's highest praise of a biography/memoir is that it "reads like a novel." This one doesn't. It's not a book that will keep you on the edge of your seat, but it is a fascinating, thoroughly researched biography of a man who lived and died in the service of his God. The man who was so reviled in his time left an incredible legacy - one to which Richard Lyman Bushman does great honor in Rough Stone Rolling.

Grade: A

Okay, y'all (yes, I do know I'm not from the South - I just like that word) know how much I love book memes. I couldn't resist this one that Eva made up all by herself. Not only is it a fun one, but she's offering "link love" and entrance into a drawing for a free book, just for filling it out and tagging 4 other book bloggers. What's not to love? Check out her blog for all the details. Okay, here goes:

Which book do you irrationally cringe away from reading, despite seeing only positive reviews? I can't think of a specific one that I'm cringing from right now, but I avoided Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell for a long time. It's just such a big book. When I finally read it, I loved it, so that goes to show you how irrational the whole cringing thing really is.

If you could bring three characters to life for a social event (afternoon tea, a night of clubbing, perhaps a world cruise), who would they be and what would the event be? First of all, I don't drink tea, or go clubbing, so it would have to be a more mundane event. I think I would take the Boudelaire kids (of A Series of Unfortunate Events fame) for an afternoon of playing in the park and picknicking. Uncle Olaf, of course, would not be invited. That way, they could have at least one nice, happy day with plenty of food and fun. Since I can spot Olaf a mile away, they would have no worries. Hakuna matata and all that.

(Borrowing shamelessly from the Thursday Next series by Jasper Fforde): You are told you can't die until you read the most boring novel on the planet. While this immortality is great for awhile, eventually you realize it's past time to die. What book would you expect to get you a nice grave? This is a toughie. I'll come back to it, I promise...

Come on, we've all been there. What book have you pretended, or at least hinted, that you've read, when in fact you've been nowhere near it? Let's see...most Jane Austen novels, Shakespearean plays, lengthy Russian classics ... need I go on?

As an addition to the last question, has there been a book you really thought you had read only to realize when you read a review about it/go to "reread" it that you haven't? Which book? I really thought I had read Jane Eyre, but I don't think I have. Maybe I did once. I don't know. I just turned 32, and my memory's starting to go...

You're interviewing for the post of Official Book Advisor to some VIP (who's not a big reader). What's the first book you'd recommend and why? (If you feel like you have to know the person, go ahead and personalize the VIP) If the person's not a big reader, I'm going to have to show them that reading can be fun and entertaining. So, I would probably start with some kind of thriller, or at least a well-written mystery. Perhaps I would go with Twilight by Stephenie Meyer or Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling, since I know several (adult) non-readers who rave about those two.

A good fairy comes and grants you one wish: you will have perfect reading comprehension in the foreign language of your choice. Which language do you go with? Okay, I know this is probably cheating, but science is seriously like Greek to me, so I would say science. That way, I could read all those scholarly health books and learn all kinds of great, (formerly incomprehensible) things.

A mischevious fairy comes and says you must choose one book that you will reread once a year for the rest of your life (you can read other books as well). Which book would you pick? At the risk of sounding like a complete Molly Mormon, I'm gonna go with my scriptures. Although not the most exciting of reads, they would be the most beneficial to my life. Plus, I learn something new every time I read (probably because I fell asleep the first time).

I know the book blogging community, and all its challenges, have pushed my reading borders. What's one "bookish" thing you discovered from book blogging (maybe a new genre, or author, or new appreciation for cover art - anything)? I started my book blog before knowing that anyone else was doing that sort of thing. When I stumbled upon Amanda's blog and started following some of her links, I was astounded that there were so many book bloggers out there. Discovering a whole community of awesome people reading and discussing books was amazing!

The good fairy is back for one final visit. Now, she's granting you your dream library! Describe it. Is everything leatherbound? Is it full of first edition hardcovers? Pristine trade paperbacks? Perhaps a few favorite authors have inscribed their works? Go ahead - let your imagination run free. Oh, that it were true! Well, first of all, I would need a big room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. I would have several shelves of classics, all leatherbound and alphabetized. Then, I would have my "every day" books - hardcovers and trade paperbacks - perfectly organized by subject and author. On one wall, I would have an enormous fireplace - with a fire always blazing - in front of which would sit a comfortable seating area with a leather sofa, armchair, and oversized ottoman. On the opposite side would be a large picture window, which looked out onto a rain-drenched landscape (since we know dreary days are the best kind for reading indoors). Since I would want to blog about my fabulous reads, I would have to have an enormous desk to work on that magically stayed clean. Ahhh...good fairy, come quickly!

Since I have to tag 4 people, I'm going to go with:

Amanda

Lisa

Cath

Chain Reader

Reading Ivan Doig's The Whistling Season is like watching a low-budget film. Without special effects or a dramatic score, the film relies solely on the strength of the story. The screenwriter's

words alone must capture and captivate the audience. Doig's novel is like one of those films. His words engage, entertain and satisfy; no cheap stunts are needed to carry the story along.

The novel opens with 61-year-old Paul Milliron pondering an unpleasant task: as superintendent of schools, he must inform residents of rural Montana that their country schools are closing. A product of just the sort of school he's been ordered to dismantle, Paul is dismayed by the job he must do. To ward off his despair, he lets his mind wander back to his own school days in Marias Coulee, Montana.

His memory takes him back to one banner year: 1909. That was the year his widower father answered an ad for a housekeeper which boldly proclaimed, "Doesn't cook but doesn't bite." Neither Paul nor his two younger brothers know what to expect, but they are shocked when stylish Rose Llewellyn steps off the train accompanied by her equally elegant brother, Morrie. Before the Millirons know it, the pair have firmly ensconsed themselves in prairie life. Rose puts the bachelor farmhouse in order, while Morrie brings his fancy Chicago education to the local one-room schoolhouse. Under Morrie's tutelage, Paul's passion for learning ignites, but not all of his experiences will be in the classroom. As the school year unfolds, Paul experiences death and terror and heartache and wonder. Most of all, he discovers that things are rarely what they seem, not even a kindly housekeeper and her dandy of a brother.

Although it does have a little mystery, The Whistling Season is no edge-of-your-seat thriller. It's a meandering, lyrical tale that won't be rushed. The pleasure is really in the journey, as Doig's every word is poetic and masterful. His characters are real and endearing, as charming as they are sympathetic. Their stories are told with a warmth and humor that enchants and affirms. Simply put, the novel is a masterpiece of old-fashioned storytelling.

There were a few things that bugged me about the book. Although I loved Doig's gentle style, I found it lacked focus at certain points. When Rose and Oliver met, I had the story pegged as a romance, but it really wasn't. The spotlight oscillates from the pair to Morrie to the plight of rural schools and back again. I would have liked smoother transitions between the various plots and themes. Sometimes the juxtapositions just felt too abrupt and jarring.

Overall, The Whistling Season is a triumph of storytelling, a beautiful tale as charming as, say, a one-room schoolhouse in rural Montana.

Grade: B+

Grading Fat Girl by Judith Moore is impossible. I've been thinking about the book ever since I finished it, and I still can't decide whether I liked it or not. One critic called it "brilliant and angry and unsettling." I agree with the "angry and unsettling," but I don't know if I would go so far as to call it brilliant. It was definitely thought-provoking, but brilliant? I don't even know if I liked it or not.

Basically, the book is a memoir chronicling Moore's life as an overweight girl and woman. From the beginning, she is frank, saying:

Narrators of first-person claptrap like this often greet the reader at the door with moist hugs and complaisant kisses. I won't. I will not endear myself. I won't put on airs. I am not that pleasant. The older I get the less pleasant I am.

And she's right. She is not pleasant. Not at all. She describes - coldly and bitterly - what it is like to be an overweight woman. From the injury of insults shouted by teenage boys, to the pain of not fitting into plus-sized pantyhose to the horror on a friend's face when she says she's in love with him, Moore tells it all. Still, in the first third of the book, I found her to be a mean, unlikeable narrator.

When Moore begins talking about her childhood, however, I couldn't stop reading. It was heartbreaking. Sad. And undeniably compelling. She endured a bleak childhood, unloved by her mother and abandoned by her father. Starved for love, she turned to food. If that sounds cliche, she offers other - more disturbing - examples of how emotionally scarred she was:

I began to chew my fingernails. I turned into a voracious eater whose meal was herself. I ripped and I tore at the flesh around my child nails; I licked, delicately and hungrily, at the blood that popped up in bright droplets at my chubby fingers' ends. I ate myself raw. (123)

The majority of the book reads like this, describing how lonely and painful she was as a child. The only glimmers of happiness in her life are imagined or real, but short-lived. She talks about the months she lived with her kind uncle, a joyous respite that was cut short when her cancer-stricken grandmother came to live with him. Life in the once happy house soon turned terrifying for young Judith, who had to sit by her mean-spirited Grammy, listening to the woman whimper, "I hurt" and "I don't want to die."

I hoped things would look up for Judith, but they didn't. She grew from an unhappy girl into an unhappy woman. In the book's forward, Moore promises not to sugar coat anything. And she doesn't. She swears, "Rockettes will not arrive on the final page and kick up their high heels and show their petticoats" (2-3), and they don't. Fat Girl does not have a nice, triumphant ending. What it does have is truth, truth so real that it hurts.

Judith Moore's writing is interesting. I mentioned that she isn't a warm and engaging storyteller. She is frank. She is honest. But, she is also coldly matter-of-fact. Her sentences are often awkward, like this one: "Uncle Carl, I don't know where he was, but we were not having the family meal with him" (176). In contrast, she offers brutal, but strong descriptions like this one about her maternal grandmother:

She was the Nazi of the barnyard, entirely businesslike in these procedures, and it seemed not to bother her when blood soaked her apron and blood dried in splotches on her bare arms and legs and in the folds of her neck. "If you want to eat you got to kill," she said, when I ran in fright from her.

You can see how ambivalent I am about this book. In one way, it is repulsive in its revelations of hate and abuse (and in several descriptions of sexual acts); in another, it is both compelling and moving. It is well-written in some respects, not so much in others. I couldn't stop reading, but I don't think I would have finished the book if I hadn't chosen it for the Triple 8 Challenge. I'm not even sure if I would recommend it to a friend. Is it angry? Yes. Is it disturbing? Yes. Is it riveting? Absolutely. Am I encouraging you to read it? Not really. I wish I could be more decisive, but I just can't. It's deeply disturbing, utterly heartbreaking, and absolutely riveting.

Grade: C