Grega dienasgrāmata. Neglītā patiesība. Jeff Kinney (2010)

Translation into Latvian of Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Ugly Truth. (original date 2010, translation 2012).

My cousin’s 14 year old granddaughter likes these books, so I bought her a couple in the series  of at least six that have been translated into Latvian. I thought I would read one and found it very amusing. With at least one illustration per page, it is like a comic book with more text than usual, and about a really wimpy kid and his „diary.” In this book he has gotten in a fight with his best friend, Rowley, so he is not quite sure who will be his best friend when he returns to school. There are funny descriptions of sex ed in school, an overnight lock-in at the school, his uncle’s fourth wedding, etc. I will have to look at one of these in English. This may also be a fun way of getting kids reading Latvian.

Saving Faith by David Baldacci (1999)

I don’t know why Baldacci is the only author I keep finding in English here in Europe. I have already forgotten where I bought it, but part of my need for mindless reading in English.

This was kind of a strange twist on inner Washington and intrigues were killing someone is the answer. Danny Buchannen was a successful lobbyist that has made a lot of money, but after seeing world poverty has been focusing his lobbying efforts on helping these impoverished nations. His side-kick is Faith, but then he is pressured into working partially for the CIA, though he tries to protect Faith from this side of his life. Of course she gets involved inadvertently, and you have CIA working against FBI with a private investigator thrown in. Gets confusing, but a nice action read.

Unwanted by Kristina Ohlsson (2009)

Translated from Swedish 2011

I had such a good time reading Stieg Larsson’s Girl with a Dragon Tattoo before it became popular in the U.S., I thought I would ask the Stockholm bookstore worker for a suggestion for the next good book from Sweden that has been translated into English. She gave me a choice of two detective novels and I chose the one written by a woman. It had a Stieg Larsson feel, with unusual detective work, abusive childhoods and quite deep evil, maybe not the energy I was looking for, but engaging enough that I have completed the book the day after purchasing it.

We get many people’s intertwined stories – both personal and professional. We meet the criminal in the first page, but don’t find out who he is until the very end. Then we meet witnesses of the first crime, slowly we meet all the detectives and related police staff, the families of the victims, those associated with the criminal. It ends up being a richly woven story of varied lives and relationships. My favorite is Frederika, possibly modeled on the author’s own experience, if I understood correctly from the acknowledgements in the back, of her work as a civilian working together with police and detectives. Fredrika is educated and can put together a lot of details, not just look at the most obvious suspect. She wants to keep emotion out of her job and is criticized by her male colleagues for not having enough gut feelings for the job. Obviously, she proves them wrong, but it is interesting to watch the process and as they become a team. I also liked her solution to her personal life – not ideal, but one way of living. Other characters were dealing with various family problems too. The hardest was to read about the crimes against the children. When the book was suggested to me, she said it was scary, and that was true, but in crime novels there is a crime, just like thrillers have their share of shooting. In small doses good reads.

One Summer by David Baldacci (2011)

I really needed an easy read for a day on the trains in Germany, so this was one of the few books available at the Muenster train station. Baldacci is one of my favorite authors, but this was not his usual fare. I would almost call it a romance from the male perspective, but I guess it would be also just considered a modern family romance full of tragedy, determination, a family falling apart and coming together. 

Jack is a former soldier with a debilitating terminal illness. As he readies to say goodbye to his dear wife Lizzie and his family, she dies in a car crash. His three children are divided up amongst relatives. Somewhere he finds the strength to get well and pull his family together in Lizzie’s family home on the South Carolina shore. A good crying book.

Jevgeņijs Oņegins by Alexander Pushkin (1837, trans 1974)

I read the Latvian translation of Eugen Onegin (itself an English translation of the title of a long poem in Russian by Pushkin, translated into Latvian by Mirdza Bendrupe with ellipses for certain stanzas or lines - possibly censored) The original date is tricky too, as it was published serially over a number of years, but the Wikipedia claims that the version most often read now is the 1837 edition.

I recently attended a play called “Onegin - Commentary” at the Riga New Theatre. The friend who gave me the ticket suggested that I read Eugene Onegin in the Latvian translation before attending the play, and I am thankful I did, as the poetry itself was recited in Russian, but the story line and the comments outside the story line were in Latvian, which I could understand clearly. It was easier to follow having read the book.

I took all the Russian literature classes in translation that were offered at Cornell. My senior year I decided that to really “get” Russian literature, I should learn the language, and I took one semester of it. Enough to learn the letters, but not much else has stuck over the years. I do not remember what we read of Pushkin, but I am quite sure it was not Onegin. I am not used to reading much verse, never mind a whole story in verse, but this actually fit quite well with the story. I also read very little Latvian, so it took longer than it otherwise might, but was well worth the effort.

Onegin is a dandy (as the play explained) who was an aristocrat, bored of parties in the city (St. Petersburg, I believe) and was happy to inherit an estate in the country from an uncle. He gets bored there too, but makes friends with Lensky, a neighbor and poet. Lensky is in love with Olga, and Olga’s sister Tanya falls for Onegin – writing him a letter declaring her love, which I understand my friends here in Latvia learned by heart in their school days. Onegin rejects Tanya. Lensky tricks Onegin into attending an event at the sisters’ house, and Onegin is mad about it, so he flirts and dances with Olga, making Lensky so jealous, that he calls Onegin out on a duel. Onegin kills Lensky at the duel, and has to go abroad, as dueling is illegal in Russia at the time, but still often practiced. The play spent quite a bit of time explaining dueling at the time, pointing out all the mistakes the second made, who could have prevented the duel and unnecessary death of Lensky. Onegin returns years later to find Tanya married to an officer, and when Onegin declares his love for her, she rejects him.

In my mind the play and book are so intertwined that I have a hard time teasing them apart. I just am happy that I have had this duel experience. I doubt that I would otherwise pick up a book of Russian literature in verse – though that in itself was interesting, as Pushkin wrote in his own “sonnet” form with a distinct rhyming pattern that was emulated in the translation. It was full of literary and historical references, and in a romantic style that is foreign to me now, but worth visiting occasionally. Thank you Inta for both experiences!

Pārbaudījums by Vilnis Baumanis (2011)

Could this really be the first Latvian novel I have read that reflects my times growing up as a Latvian? Vilnis Baumanis is older than I am, his mother was my Latvian school teacher and taught me not only about Latvian grammar, but a love for the language and literature. I knew his three sisters (I still run into him and two of his sisters now and then), and the house that he describes in this book. His novel is a thinly disguised reflection on his own youth, how he fell in love with his wife, and the community of Latvians that lived behind the liquor store in the 1950’s to 60’s, before they could afford their own spaces. I know my father lived in a cramped house in Brooklyn with at least a dozen other people when he first came to America. I do not remember all the people that lived in the Baumanis house, but I do remember his mom and sisters, and another teacher and her family. I occasionally went to their house to practice a play for Latvian school with my two teachers. 

I have no idea how much of this story is true, as Baumanis makes the story more thrilling with some Russian mob characters threatening the house, but my cousin, who was the same age as Vilnis said that much of it was true and that he participated in some of the activities described. So we get a good reflection on how Latvian youth lived their first years in America. These were high school and college aged, they met frequently, had their local youth group, danced folk dances, sang, participated in plays. His love interest lived in a basement apartment a few blocks from his house. I remember this basement very well, as I spent years going there every week to practice folk dancing and a group exercise for performance (don't ask, I can't explain it). I remember couches in one corner – that must have been the youth hang out space. The only other character I recognized in the book was the woman who directed them in the performance of Brigadere play Princess Gundega and King Brusubarda. Pauline Dumina was my aunt's  friend and I know she was a big theater person, but I never had a chance to work with her. I am planning to meet a woman who is depicted as a little girl in this book within the next few weeks. Maybe she can shed some light on some of the other characters.

My cousin commented on Baumanis’ rich language, and I have to agree, it is definitely beyond our daily use Latvian, and seems different from the Latvian used here in Latvia in some way.

Book of Madness and Cures by Regina O'Melveny (2012)

I always love books about books, strong women, and historical periods, so this book satisfied all those and wasn't a bad read, but wasn't great. Dr. Gabriella Mondini has been taught the healing arts by her father in Venecia of the late 16th century. Her father took off ten years ago to explore diseases in other countries for his book that she had been helping him write. Since she hasn't heard from him for a while, she takes off to look for him with two of her servants. They travel through Germany, Netherlands, England, Ireland, France, Spain and Morocco. Interesting way of showing these countries from those times, but I had a hard time believing that a single woman could do so at that time, even when she did dress up as a man. I was wondering how she was able to communicate in all those countries, and lastly, I wondered how she could take that much currency with her that worked everywhere and that was never in danger of being stolen. But I guess you can take a positive look at the world, as I usually do, but with my own foreign travels coming up, I must be feeling extra paranoid. I felt I just got a glimpse into how women were treated at that time.

Into the Beautiful North by Luis Alberto Urrea (2009)

This was an inspiring book on human spirit and gave me a bit more insight into the Mexican border and immigrant issues. A town on the coast of Mexico is threatened by drug dealers and there are no more men left in town to protect them, so Nayeli and her two girlfriends, along with Tacho, the gay owner of the town's cafe, head north to bring back men to protect their town. They are supported by Irma, Nayeli's aunt and newly elected major. Nayeli also hopes to bring back her father. We follow them on the long bus ride to Tijuana, their attempts to cross the border, the various people they meet along the way - both good and bad, the makeshift communities Mexicans live in on both sides of the border, the border patrol, and attitudes of various people towards them. They pick up some interesting characters along the way. The story is full of Spanish expressions and conversation, some translated, some not, but the gist was always understandable. I listened to this one, but it might have been nice to see the written words as they were spoken, so I might learn some Spanish - maybe some other time.

Latvian Storytellers (2006)

This came from our university's Japanese professor, a set of three tales by Latvian writers:

• Para by Gundege Repše
• The Innocent Virgins by Pauls Bankovskis
• Amaryllises by Nora Ikstena
• The Snake by Laima Muktupavela
• Still Life with Pomegranate by Inga Ābele
• push, push by Andra Neiburga

I actually did know all of them by name and had read something from half of the authors. This just reminded me that I do need to take time this summer to read more of the local Latvian authors. I really enjoyed these stories.