{ Illusionist - Great Reads No 2: Water for Elephants }

Water for Elephants
Sara Gruen
Non-Fiction
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SYNOPSIS

During the 1930's, as a young man, Jacob Jankowski was tossed by fate onto a rickety train that was home to the Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth. It was the early part of the great depression, and for Jacob, now ninety, the circus world he remembers was both his salvation and a living hell. A veterinary student just shy of a degree, he was put in charge of caring for the circus menagerie. It was there that he met Marlena, the beautiful equestrian star married to August, the charismatic but twisted animal trainer. And he met Rosie, an untrainable elephant who was the great gray hope for this third-rate traveling show. The bond that grew among this unlikely trio was one of love and trust, and, ultimately, it was their only hope for survival.

BIRDS EYE:  Coming Soon.


PROLOGUE:

Only three people were left under the red and white awning of the grease joint; Grady, me, and the fry cook. Grady and I sat at a battered wooden table, each facing a burger on a dented tin plate. The cook was behind the counter, scraping his griddle with the edge of a spatula. He had turned off the fryer some time ago, but the odor of grease lingered.

The rest of the midway- so recently writhing with people - was empty but for a handful of employees and a small group of men waiting to be led to the cooch tent. The glanced nervously from side to side, with hats pulled low and hands thrust deep in their pockets. They wouldn't be disappointed: somewhere in the back Barbara and her ample charms awaited.

The other townsfolk - rubes, as Uncle Al called them - had already made their way through the menagerie tent and into the big top, which pulsed with frenetic music. The band was whipping through its repertoire at the usual earsplitting volume. I knew this routine by heart - at this very moment, the tail end of the Grand Spectacle was exiting and Lottie, the aerialist, was ascending her rigging in the center ring.

I stared at Grady, trying to process what he was saying. He glanced around and leaned in closer.

"Besides," he said, locking eyes with me, "it seems to me you've got a lot to loose right now." He raised his eyebrows for emphasis. My heart skipped a beat.

Thunderous applause exploded from the big top, and the band slid seamlessly into the Gounod waltz. I turned instinctively toward the menagerie because this was the cue for the elephant act. Marlena was either preparing to mount or was already sitting on Rosie's head.

"I've got to go, " I said.

"Sit," said Grady. "Eat. If you're thinking of clearing out, it may be a while before you see food again."

That moment, the music screeched to a halt. There was an ungodly collision of brass, reed, and percussion - trombones and piccolos skidded into cacophony, a tuba farted, and the hollow clang of a cymbal wavered out of the big top, over our heads and into oblivion.

Grady froze, crouched over his burger with his pinkies extended and lips spread wide. 

I looked from side to side. No one moved a muscle - all eyes were directed at the big top. A few wisps of hay swirled lazily across the hard dirt.

"What is it? What's going on?" I said.

"Shh," Grady hissed.

The band started up again, playing "Stars and Stripes Forever."

"Oh Christ. Oh shit!" Grady tossed his food onto the table and leapt up, knocking over the bench.

"What? What is it?" I yelled, because he was already running away from me. 

"The Disaster March!" he screamed over his shoulder.

I jerked around to the fry cook, who was ripping off his apron. "What the hell's he talking about?"

"The Disaster March," he said, wrestling the apron over his head. "Means something's gone bad - real bad."

"Like what?"

"Could be anything - fire in the big top, stampede, whatever. Aw sweet Jesus. The poor rubes probably don't even know it yet." He ducked under the hinged door and took off.

Chaos - candy butchers vaulted over counters, workmen staggering out from under tent flaps, roustabouts racing headlong across the lot. Anyone and everyone associated with the Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth barreled toward the big top.

Diamond Joe passed me at the human equivalent of a full gallop. "Jacob - its the menagerie," he screamed. "The animals are loose. Go, go, go!"

He didn't need to tell me twice. Marlena was in that tent.

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{ Illusionist - Reading List: Sneak Peek }

Sweet Alternate Universes - wait for me!

I'll be visiting you in no time :)

(Click to enlarge)

These little prettys were salvaged from Savers (a Southern Thrift Shop) for probably close to $20 total at max - and many of these are Best Sellers! I've paid anywhere from $ .99 - $1.99 per book. I've had to put many more down that I would have preferred to buy as well...some that I still think about and wish I had! Each time I go to visit, I try to only walk away with less than $10 worth (I've only made about 3 trips thus far), until I've read into them a bit - but some are too good to pass up. So, when I'm snuggling into bed at night, with my lamp light on and a fresh cup of water by the bedside, I peek over at this happy little stack and am flooded with giddyness - each and every time.

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The List

Man and Boy Tony Parsons

The Known World Edward P. Jones

White Oleander Janet Fitch

Gentlemen and Players Joanne Harris

Charming Billy Alice McDermott

Out Stealing Horses Per Petterson

The Glass Castle Jeannette Walls

The Hours Michael Cunningham

One Thousand White Women Jim Fergus

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie Alan Bradley

Best Friends Martha Moody

What the Stones Remember Lane

The Time Traveler's Wife Audrey Niffenegger

The Reader Bernhard Schlink

The Heretics Daughter Kathleen Kent

The Memory Keepers Daughter Kim Edwards

Mother of Pearl Melinda Haynes

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Reading Complete (Since Oct 2010):

(Reviews have started here)

Water for Elephants Sara Gruen

Harvesting Ice Lawrence Cirelli

Bel Ami Guy de Maupassant

The Widower Liesel Litzenburger

The Birth of Venus Sarah Dunant

Evermore Alyson Noel

The Secret Life of Bees Sue Monk Kidd

Bel Canto Ann Patchett

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Currently Reading:

Three Junes Julia Glass

{ Illusionist - Great Reads No 1: Bel-Ami }

Bel-Ami
Guy de Maupassant
Non-Fiction
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SUMMARY
A chronicle of a young man's rise to power in Paris via his manipulation of the city's most influential and wealthy women.


BIRDS EYE: This novel is simply fantastic is all regards. I loved how sensory the writing is - it completely transports you into Georges Duroy's world. The plot is constantly shifting, gaining momentum, taking you deeper and deeper into 1890's Paris. There is never a dull moment. Its humorous, yet true to the colors of life and written quite light. Before long, it lingers around you like a fog - still sensed in everything you see and touch, even after you've put the book down. Its a wonderful study about life then and, how amusingly enough, human nature hasn't changed. I couldn't help but fall in love with Duroy - more in a brotherly fashion since many times you just want to beat his lights out for the careless way he quietly manipulates his peers. But one admiral thing about Duroy: Everything he sets his mind to, he gets. As my mother used to say: "Where theres a will, theres a way." Something I absolutely loved about this novel, was how the author painted Duroy with sensitivity and humanity. You can't help but feel sorry for him - because behind that cunning mind and thick skin of a man he fronts, hes really more like a boy who hasn't yet grasped just how much the wrong choices he makes bring about the consequences he is constantly battling, which threaten to rip apart his life. You can immediately grasp why he views the world like he does - and you find yourself wishing you could take him by the arm and whisper the secret to the end of his distress in his ear. So, even though our dear Duroy sets about getting every comfort possible, in the most ungentlemanly way possible - by the end of the book, you're still rooting for him.


CHAPTER 1 - EXCERPT
POVERTY


After changing his five franc peice Georges Duroy left the restaurant. He twisted his mustache in military style and cast a rapid, sweeping glance among the diners, among whom were three saleswomen, an untidy music teacher of an uncertain age, and two women with their husbands.

When he reached the sidewalk, he paused to consider which route he should take. It was the twenty-eight of June and he had only three francs in his pocket to last him the remainder of the month. That meant two dinners and no lunches, or two lunches and no dinners, according to choice. As he pondered upon this unpleasant state of affairs, he sauntered down Rue Notre Dame de Lorette, preserving his military air and carriage, and rudely jostled the people upon the streets in order to clear a path for himself. He appreared to be hostle to the passers-by, and even to the houses, to the entire city.

Tall, well built, fair, with blue eyes, a curled mustache, hair naturally wavy and parted in the middle, he recalled the hero of the popular romances.

It was one of those sultry, Parisian evenings when not a breath of air is stirring, the sewers exhaled poisonous gases, and the restaurants the disagreeable odors of cooking and kindred smells. Porters in their shirt-sleeves, astride their chairs, smoked their pipes at the carriage gates, and pedestrians strolled leisurely along, hats in hand.

When Georges Duroy reached the boulevard he halted again, undecided as to which road to choose. Finally he turned toward the Madeline and followed the tide of people.

The large, well-patronized cafes tempted Duroy, but were he to drink only two glasses of beer in an evening, farewell to the meager supper the following night! Yet, he said to himself: "I will take a glass at the Americain. By Jove, I am thirsty."

He glanced at men seated at the tables, men who could afford to slake their thirst, and scowled at them. "Rascals!" he muttered. If he could have caught one of them at a corner in the dark he would have choked him without a scruple! He recalled the two years spent in Africa, and the manner in which he had exhorted money from the Arabs. A smile hovered about his lips at the recollection of an escapade which had cost three men their lives, a foray which had given his two comrades and himself seventy fowls, two sheep, money and something to laugh about for six months. The culprits were never found; indeed, they were never sought for, the Arab being looked upon as the soilder's prey.

But in Paris it was different; there one could not commit such deeds with impunity. He regretted he had not remained where he was; but he had hoped to improve his condition--and for that reason he was in Paris!

He passed the Valdeville and stopped at the Cafe Americain, debating as to whether he should take that "glass." Before deciding, glanced at a clock; it was a quarter past nine. He knew that when the beer was placed in front of him, he would drink it; and then what would he do at eleven o'clock? So he walked on, intending to go as far as the Madeline and return.

When he reached the Place de l'Opera, a tall young man passed him, whose face he fancied was familiar. He followed him repeating: "Where the deuce have I seen that fellow?"

For a time he racked his brain in vain, then he suddenly saw the same man, but not so corpulent and more youthful, attired in the uniform of a Hussar. He exclaimed, "Wait! Forestier!" and hastening up to him, laid his hand upon the man's shoulder. The latter turned, looked at him and said: "What do you want, sir?"

Duroy began to laugh: "Don't you remember me?"

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