When my 7-year-old daughter spied the title of this book - In the Land of Invisible Women - she wrinkled her little face in confusion. "Mom," she asked, "How can a woman be invisible?" I know she was not asking a deep, philosophical question, but was stumped by pure logic - People are solid, therefore they cannot be invisible. Before I had a chance to explain, she flitted outside to build a fairy house, but it made me wonder if she, a daughter of 21st Century America, could even fathom a world where women live under such oppression that they cannot drive, own property in their own names, or drift outdoors without cloaking themselves in thick robes. To a child who's been taught she can do and be anything - a doctor, an astronaut, even president - such a world would be as foreign to her as Mars.

The land in question is Saudi Arabia, pre 9/11. Author Qanta Ahmed admits some things (like women being allowed to drive) have changed since she dwelt in the Kingdom, but In the Land of Invisible Women focuses on what was happening during the years she lived and worked in Saudi. Dr. Ahmed, a British Muslim of Pakistani descent, studied and trained in both England and New York City. After several years in the U.S., her American visa ran out, so she made a spur-of-the-moment decision to relocate to Saudi Arabia, where her medical skills were needed at King Fahad National Guard Hospital in Riyadh. The prospect of a high salary and free rent drew her to the Kingdom. Although friends expressed concern over her decision, she felt little apprehension - after all, she was a Muslim woman "well-acquainted with the ways of an Islamic Kingdom" (8). It didn't take her long to realize just how different life in this foreign land could be.

Dr. Ahmed became especially fascinated with the lives of Saudi women, who functioned under laws dictated by extremist leaders. By Western standards, their lives were oppressive nightmares, their every movement guarded by men. At the time of Dr. Ahmed's residency in the Kingdom, females were required by law to veil themselves when in public. In addition, they were not allowed to drive, own property in their own names, or appear outside their homes alone. Powerful Muttawas (or religious policemen) patrolled restaurants, malls and other public arenas to ensure the rules were followed. Foreigners received no leniency, so Dr. Ahmed followed the same rules as her Saudi counterparts. By studying these women - feminists, extremists, cowards, advocates, vocal and silent - she learned to appreciate their plights. Through Dr. Ahmed's many stories, the reader also comes to admire them in all their variations.

Dr. Ahmed also discusses the many contradictions in the Kingdom, from Pepsi-slugging, Cadillac-driving Saudis who despise the U.S.; to American-trained doctors' "unmistakable fetor of relish in the face of [9/11's] destruction" (397); to brilliant female doctors unable to express second opinions for fear of offending their male colleagues; to women veiled to escape men's glances conducting affairs with "Bluetooth boyfriends." In the end, she remains puzzled by a place where

I still count the dichotomies: angry divorcees who dream of becoming second wives; conflicted Saudi men who cannot forsake the expectations of powerful matriarchs; womanhood that is both oppressed and liberated by veilings; Saudi men who are feminists and Saudi grandmothers who propogate female suppression ... (435-436).

As fascinating as all these discussions are, the most poignant sections of the book come as Dr. Ahmed deals with "the fleeting Muslim within me" (112-113). Disappointed with Saudi Muslims who display flagrant sexism, anti-semitism and other kinds of racism, she becomes disillusioned with the Saudi brand of the peace-affirming religion she has always known. Still, a trip to Mecca offers spiritual rebirth, which finally allows her to feel a sense of belonging in the Kingdom.

In the Land of Invisible Women is not light reading. It's a riveting hard-hitter that offers a unique and intimate look under the veils of a culture steeped in complexity and contradiction. Throughout, Dr. Ahmed provides an honest, sometimes scathing, sometimes sensitive look at the fascinating nuances of Saudi culture. It also provides a moving potrayal of one woman's search for her own self, her own soul. Unique and intensely moving, In the Land of Invisible Women is not to be missed.

Grade: B

If you can't tell from the cover, A Crooked Kind of Perfect by Linda Urban is a quirky little

novel. In fact, at times, the story becomes downright odd. At least that's the impression I got when I read it the other morning between 2 and 4 a.m. while rocking a fussy baby. Sleep deprivation has left my mind in a fog, so I could be misjudging the book - maybe it's a perfectly normal story and it's just my exhausted mind that's odd. ANYWAY ...

This children's book (I think it would be considered middle-grade fiction?) stars 10-year-old Zoe Elias, a girl who dreams of performing at Carnegie Hall. In her dreams, she's a piano-playing prodigy studying under a "sweet, rumpled old man" (20) she calls Maestro. Elegantly coifed, she breezes through pieces by Beethoven and Mozart, earning herself dozens of admirers. Zoe's reality isn't quite so grand. Instead of a shiny baby grand, she plays a "wood-grained, vinyl-seated, wheeze-bag" (3) organ. Instead of a dignified gentleman teaching her the classics, she's stuck with Mabelline Person, who sips ginger ale while plunking out tunes from the Hits of the Seventies songbook. In Zoe's dreams, her mother buys her fancy gowns and piles her hair into sophisticated 'dos; in real life, she's too busy with work to pay much attention. Her father supports her ambitions, but his fear of crowds, change, and just about everything else, makes him a less-than-perfect talent manager.

Undeterred, Zoe decides to take on the Perform-O-Rama organ competition. While she readies Neil Diamond's Forever in Blue Jeans, she tries to quell her growing anxiety. All the practice, the sour notes and the fear are getting to her - she has to play the song perfectly, and it's just not happening. She wants to pour her heart out to her dad, but he's too focused on cooking up a storm for his Rollin' in Dough: Earn a Dolla' Baking Challah self-improvement course. To make matters worse, she can't even cry on his shoulder, because her friend Wheeler's having too much fun baking with her dad to ever leave. When Zoe hears an interview with a successful young musician, she decides that maybe she can endure her lessons after all. In fact, she vows to practice harder so one day she, too, will be interviewed on the radio. It's the perfect plan. But, as the Perform-O-Rama edges closer, her carefully-laid plans start to unravel fast - her mother has to work on performance day, leaving her in the hands of her father, who's terrified to leave the house. Can Zoe make it to the competition, let alone Carnegie Hall? What will become of all her perfect dreams?

Zoe may be a little odd, but readers will have no trouble identifying with her. She represents all of us in our yearning for enviable, picture-perfect lives. Like the rest of us, she learns that perfection isn't all it's cracked up to be and when we try our very best, we can find our own brand of perfect. Even if it's the crooked kind.

Grade: B

For the most part, I ignore stories about animals. I don't mean stories in which a character owns a dog or works in a pet store or takes her children to the zoo. I mean books narrated by animals or books in which animals are the main characters. However, I figured a book that has won a Newbery Award, garnered countless glowing reviews and inspired a movie my kids loved, might just be an enjoyable exception. And guess what? Kate DiCamillo's The Tale of Despereaux charmed the socks off me. You still won't find me borrowing stacks of animal books from the library, but you will find me reading more of DiCamillo's books (even if they do involve animals).

The Tale of Despereaux reads like a fairy tale (although a bit of a dark one). It's the story of a mouse named Despereaux Tilling, who is unlike any other mouse in the castle. For one thing, he's tiny. Well, except for his ears - they're huge. For another, he entered the world with his eyes open, a thing unheard of in the mouse world. As if those things aren't enough to brand him an outsider, Despereaux just can't seem to do the things mice do. Instead of just hearing the sound of crumbs dropping, the little mouse can smell them, too. Instead of nibbling the glue from books in the castle library, Despereaux actually reads them. His worst offense, however, is the one that dooms him to the dungeon - he speaks to a human.

Poor Despereaux really can't help himself. The human in question is the lovely Princess Pea, who looks at him adoringly and even compliments his large ears. He's smitten. How can he not speak to his beloved as the knights in the fairy tales do? Since he refuses to renounce his actions, Despereaux is soon carted off to the stinking depths of the castle. A red thread is looped around his neck, marking him for death at the hands (well, teeth) of the bloodthirsty castle rats. The mouse soon learns just how vicious the rats can be - not only do they plan to kill him, but they are also plotting against the Princess. Like the heroes in his storybooks, Despereaux swallows his fear and vows to save the girl he loves. There's only one problem (well, okay about 4) - (1) He's stuck in a dungeon; (2) The rats want revenge - they aren't about to let a mouse get in their way; (3) Despereaux has to get through the kitchen to warn the king about the rats' plan; and (4) Making it through the kitchen involves dodging the mouse-hating cook and her knife-wielding serving girl. Clearly, he will need all of his courage and cunning to save the Princess he loves.

The Tale of Despereaux offers enough heart-pounding action to keep young readers engaged, but also offers valuable lessons about love, bravery and fighting against all odds for that in which you believe. It also delights with rich, but subtle language that will make you smile. Anyone who has ever felt like an outcast (and who hasn't?) will enjoy cheering this loveable mouse on his gallant quest. I'm probably the last person on Earth to read this book, but just in case I'm not, let me suggest you head to the nearest library and pick up this utterly charming tale. Right. Now.

Grade: A