It is such a glorious day, so much so that it is almost impossible to justify going inside. Lately, each day seems as though it is the absolute most beautiful, most perfect day possible. And then the next day, it’s even better. The orange trees, the yellow leaves, the bluebird sky, the gentle breeze, the just-right temperature, the buzzing bees, the little squirrels running around, the slim white trunks of birches, the still-green grass, the brilliant yellow-white moon at night. I could go on and on.
But I will cease, as I have a couple of good books to recommend. The first, “Here One Moment,” is Lianne Moriarty’s 10th novel for adults. She’s also written three children’s books with beguiling titles, who knew.
Many who have never read her fiction have seen the two-season HBO television series, “Big Little Lies,” based on her sixth novel, which takes place in sparkling Monterrey, Calif., and involves a bunch of rich parents, spectacular seaside homes, spoiled kids and some very dark secrets and goings-on, starring Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman, Shailene Woodley, Alexander Skarsgard and Laura Dern. It is stunningly good, with a haunting musical score I will never get out of my head, breathtaking scenery and a compelling, unsettling, spine-prickling plot line. It’s won a bunch of awards. If you haven’t seen it, I recommend that you do.
“Nine Perfect Strangers” (Hulu) is also adapted from a Moriarty novel, again starring Nicole Kidman as the coiffed and spectral director of a new-age-y health-and-wellness resort. Not as good as “Big Little Lies,” but definitely worth a binge on those upcoming cold fall-winter nights.
But enough of television; back to the written page. A little about Lianne Moriarty: She is an Australian author, whose genre has been described as “character-driven heavier chick lit and mild thriller.” Born in Sydney, Australia, in 1966, Moriarty worked in advertising and marketing, then ran her own company, before becoming a freelance advertising copywriter.
Her first novel, “Three Wishes,” was written as part of a master’s degree at Macquarie University in Sydney. She currently lives in Sydney with her husband, a former farmer from Tasmania, and their two children. Her sister, Jaclyn Moriarty, is a young adult novelist.
When I picked up “Here One Moment,” I didn’t know what to expect; I was just so thrilled that Lianne Moriarty, whose books I always enjoy, had written another book. And I was intrigued by the frontispiece, from Samuel Johnson: “When a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully.”
And then, the first two sentences: “Later, not a single person will recall seeing the lady board the flight at Hobart Airport. Nothing about her appearance or demeanor raises a red flag or even an eyebrow.” Odd and intriguing, I remember thinking, before contentedly turning the page, one hundred percent secure I was in excellent hands.
It took a while to figure out who this unassuming, uncolorful, unprepossessing older woman was and why she was important. “The lady is not strikingly beautiful or unfortunately ugly,” writes Moriarty. “She wears a pretty green-and-white-patterned collared blouse tucked in at the waistband of slim-fitting gray pants. Her shoes are flat and sensible. She is not unusually pierced or bejeweled or tattooed. She has small silver studs in her ears and a sliver brooch pinned to the collar of her blouse, which she often touches, as if to check that it is still there.”
“Which is all to say,” the author goes on, “the lady who will later become known as ‘the Death Lady’ on the delayed 3:20 p.m. flight from Hobart to Sydney is not worthy of a second glance, not by anyone, not a single crew member, not a single passenger, not until she does what she does.”
As I hate, hate, hate book reviews that reveal the plot and spoil all the surprises, I will not say much more, except that this story becomes increasingly compelling as it goes along. The simple, straightforward prose is in striking contrast to the unsettling plot, which is mind-opening and a tad radical. This book takes risks. Read it! You will not be disappointed.
“Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow” by Gabrielle Zevin is another good read. (Or in my case, good listen.)
It all starts with Sam and Sadie encountering one another in the children’s ward of a hospital. On the day they meet, 11-year-old Sadie “had been banished from her older sister Alice’s hospital room. Alice was moody in the way of 13-year-olds, but she was also moody in the way of people who might be dying of cancer. Their mother, Sharyn, said that Alice should be given a great deal of latitude, that the dual storm fronts of puberty and illness were a lot for one body to grapple with. A great deal of latitude meant Sadie should go into the waiting area until Alice was no longer angry with her.”
Intending to take shelter from the storm by escaping into the world of Nintendo for a bit, Sadie strays into the hospital game room where she sees a boy, wearing pajamas in the middle of the day, a pair of crutches at his side, his foot in a “medieval-looking cage-like contraption,” playing Super Mario Bros.
“He had tangled curly black hair, a piggish nose, glasses, a cartoonishly round head. In Sadie’s art class at school, she had been taught to draw by breaking things down into basic shapes. To depict this boy, she would have needed mainly circles.”
To make a long story short, while not giving too much away, Sadie and Sam grow up and lose touch but reunite one cold December day during Sam’s junior year at Harvard, on a crowded subway platform in Cambridge, Mass. He calls her name, and for a moment she pretends she hasn’t heard him. But then she turns, and the friendship is reignited. Though often in love, Sadie and Sam do not become lovers, but rather, collaborators in video game design, a realm about which I know next to nothing, though now know a good deal more than I did.
This book has good and important things to say about “the redemptive possibilities” of the art of playing. “Yes,” says the jacket blurb, “it is a love story, but it is not one you have read before.”
Very, very good read. Or listen. A tantalizing, infuriating, intricate, interesting, unusual plot. Excellent dialogue. Totally worthy. Highly recommend.
For those who don’t know, the novel’s title is from a speech from “Macbeth”: “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow/Creeps in this petty pace from day to day/To the last syllable of recorded time/And all our yesterdays have lighted fools/The way to dusty death.”
Happy reading. Oh, and carpe diem, everyone.
This post was originally published on here
