1) John the Baptizer by Brooks Hansen:

No matter your faith background, or lack of it, or your knowledge of the Bible, or lack of it, I highly recommend John The Baptizer.  Its blends the historical and the literary in ways that defy genre and subject matter to create a powerful story.

2) Right Time, Right Place by Richard Brookhiser

For anyone wanting to understand the conservative movement, and its flagship magazine, Right Time, Right Place is a must read.  And anyone interested in becoming a journalist/writer would do well to read it. But at its heart is a more humane vision: that being true to your ideals and friends is what’s important.

3) The Everafter War by Michael Buckley

With the Everafter War Michael Buckley again shows why this series has won the acclaim and popularity it has.  Each book has just the right amount of humor and seriousness; of plot and character development mixed with satire and slapstick.  He keeps the reader guessing – although both the traitor and the master are pretty easy to spot – and despite all the silliness (and the YA audience) the characters are surprisingly well developed. It is just an ideal light read for me and for kids of all ages.

4) The New Policeman by Kate Thompson

So whether you are fascinated by Celtic lore, love traditional Irish music, or just enjoy creative storytelling, there is plenty to like in The New Policemen.  Thompson’s love of Ireland – its culture, history, people, and land – comes shining through and it is infectious.  When combined with a unique adventure story it makes for enjoyable reading. I recommend it for readers young and old.

5) Through Black Spruce by Joseph Boyden

This is something of a big complicated mess.  And yet it is a big complicated beautiful mess.  And not to sound cliche, but ain’t that life?

6) Leap Over a Wall by Eugene Peterson

Eugene Peterson takes the story of David and reveals the important theological insights it offers in accessible and yet poetic language. Each chapter is a short read but packed with insights into the Christian life and deep thoughts about what it means to be human.

7) Children of Odin by Padraic Colum

So whether you are looking for an accessible introduction to these myths, something interesting for the younger readers you know or if, like me, you just like exploring myths and ancient stories check out the Children of Odin.

8) The Sorceress by Michael Scott

If you have been living in a cave and haven’t stumbled on this series yet, and you like fantasy adventure, I highly recommend it.

This is one of those great series where each book seems to get better and each wait for the next one to come up seems more intolerable.

9) The End of Secularism by Hunter Baker

If you are interested in the subject of secularism or the interaction of faith in the public square you will want to read this book.  It can serve as a useful introduction or an interesting argument/debate kickoff for those with more of a background in the subject.

10) Secret Son by Laila Lalami

Secret Son has many traditional elements: coming of age; rags to riches to rags; East meets West; family versus individual identity; fate versus free will; etc.  But it has a simplicity and honesty that makes it fresh and avoids cliche or a preachy tone.

So there you have it. Ten books I really enjoyed in 2009. What were your favorites in 2009?

Here is a brief bio for those who may be unfamiliar with her work or background:

Laila Lalami was born and raised in Morocco. She earned her B.A. in English from Université Mohammed V in Rabat, her M.A. from University College, London, and her Ph.D. in linguistics from the University of Southern California. Her work has appeared in The Boston Globe, The Los Angeles Times, The Nation, The New York Times, The Washington Post and elsewhere. She is the recipient of an Oregon Literary Arts grant and a Fulbright Fellowship. She was short-listed for the Caine Prize for African Writing (the “African Booker”) in 2006. Her debut collection of short stories, Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits, was published in the fall of 2005 and has since been translated into Spanish, Dutch, French, Portuguese, Italian, and Norwegian. Her first novel, Secret Son, will be published in the spring of 2009. She is currently Assistant Professor of Creative Writing at the University of California Riverside.

My questions and her answers are below.

1) What is the most challenging part about moving from the short story format to a novel and what is the best aspect?

The structure of my short story collection made it possible to take out one story and revise it, or even get rid of it and replace it with another, without having this affect the shape of the entire book. But with the novel, changes to one chapter inevitably meant changes somewhere else in the novel, so the revision process was much more labor-intensive. On the other hand, working on a novel really enabled me to stay with the same story for a long time, to inhabit it, if you will, and to keep adding layers to it.

2) How would you describe your writing style? What authors have influenced your writing?

Perhaps it is up to critics to describe my writing style. I have a hard time looking at my work with a critical eye, since there is no possibility of being completely objective. My favorite authors-and I think these are the people who have influenced me the most, since I go back to them often-are J.M. Coetzee, Chinua Achebe, Ahdaf Soueif, Graham Greene, Joseph Conrad, Leila Abouzeid, Mohammed Choukri, Tayeb Salih, among others.
3) What sparked the idea for the character of Youssef?

I think I started with this image of a young man walking back home to the slum where he lives, having just watched a movie. In some sense, this journey from idealized dreams to stark reality-from lies to truths, if you will-takes place throughout the book. For instance, when Youssef’s mother reveals to him that he is the illegitimate son of a wealthy businessman, she only gives him a small part of the story of his birth, and then she changes that story several times in the book. Or when Hatim promises Youssef that he will publish an article about what happened at the university, the piece that comes out bears only a small resemblance to the events as Youssef experienced them.

4) Fate is a theme in the novel. Does the Middle/Near East have a different concept of fate than the West/America?

I tend to think that people are pretty much the same everywhere, so my instinct is to say no. When people are faced with disastrous events (e.g. a flood, an earthquake, a terrorist attack, etc.), they want to have a reason for why these events took place, which is why the idea of fate is so powerful. The concept of fate can basically be summarized as “shit happens,” except of course it’s said in a prettier way.

5) One reviewer felt the change of perspective was problematic while I felt the last third of the book really kicked it up a notch because of the tension and drama of those different perspectives. What were you seeking to do by bringing in the voices of Alma, Nabil, and Rachida when Youssef had been dominant early in the book?
The book is told from the point of view of Youssef, but I felt compelled to bring in the voices of his father, his half-sister, and his mother because I think they add a huge dimension to the story. In each case, the father, the half-sister, and the mother make decisions that have a huge effect on Youssef’s life, and yet he isn’t even aware of these decisions or the rationale behind them. I don’t think that the three chapters disrupt the flow of the book, and I suppose it’s possible to skip them altogether and still experience all the main events in Youssef’s story without any interruption, but then as a reader you’ll get something very different from the novel. Secret Son asks you to consider the extent to which Youssef’s actions are really entirely under his control. How much choice does he have? Is the choice he faces even possible? Let me give you an example from early on in the book. When Youssef meets his father, he has no idea that his father is in the middle of a huge row with Amal, which is why he is so receptive to Youssef in the first place.
6) It is hard, IMO, to see any of the characters as a true villain – or hero for that matter (all of the characters are complicit in the events that unfold). Was that intentional; to have complexity and grey areas in all of the characters?

Yes, absolutely. Character is primordial for me and I tried to make each one as complex as I could.

7) The ending is something of both a dramatic flourish and a cliffhanger. Was that hard to pull off? Were you tempted to add an epilogue or wrap it up somehow?

I was tempted, but in the end I desisted. I felt that it was more important to get the reader to ponder what is going to happen next rather than to feed her a simple answer. I do think that, as a character, Youssef reaches a point of closure, in the sense that he is clearer about exactly who he is.

8) Do you worry that your writing will be pigeonholed as immigrant, Moroccan, or some other category?

In some ways, I fear it already is. I’ve seen my books described as being “political,” which I find a little startling. After all, the work of other writers-someone like Jonathan Saffran Foer, say-depends on a specific social and political context, too, and yet it’s rarely described in those terms. Perhaps it’s because my fiction is set in Morocco, an unusual setting for American reviewers, which renders visible some things that are less visible with other writers.

9) You were one of the early lit bloggers. What do you think literary blogs add to the discussion of books? What might be their biggest weakness?

I think they provide a greater diversity of perspectives on books and literature, engage in conversation with one another and with readers directly, and cover many books that are left out of the mainstream press. But, just as with any other field, there are varying levels of quality.

10) Things look dire for newspapers, but if you were given control of the local (meaning most prominent paper in your area) newspaper’s book coverage what are three things you would change or implement?

I am not a book editor, so I hesitate to answer that question. I would say that, as a book reviewer, the greatest challenge I see is to match books with the most appropriate critics-those who can provide a larger literary and cultural context for a book.

I have a basic policy of trying to read books written by bloggers with whom I have interacted.  I don’t really know these people, and perhaps it is a form of wanting a connection with the famous (used loosely), but I find it interesting to see how their writing works in long from as opposed to blogging.

So when I saw Laila Lalami had a novel coming out (I missed her short story collection when it came out) I got a hold of a copy.  I wasn’t sure what to expect, but Secret Son turned out to be a fascinating and powerful story. Here is the synopsis from the back cover:

Youssef el-Mekki, a young man of nineteen, is living with his mother in the slums of Casablanca when he discovers that the father he believed to be dead is, in fact, alive and eager to befriend and support him. Leaving his mother behind, Youssef assumes a life he could only dream of: a famous and influential father, his own penthouse apartment, and all the luxuries associated with his new status. His future appears assured until an abrupt reversal of fortune sends him back to the streets and his childhood friends, where a fringe Islamic group, known simply as the Party, has set up its headquarters.

As that plot summary makes clear, the story is a rather simple one: rags-to-riches and back to rags.  And for the first two-thirds of the book that simplicity largely holds true.  And then in the final third the book kicks it up a notch and suddenly we are racing to a spirited climax full of emotion and punch.

More below.

Lalami does a wonderful job of allowing the reader to see the world through the eyes of Youssef.  This provides both an interesting portrait of a young man coming of age in the slums of what we would call the third world but also an illuminating sketch of the environment and culture that surrounds him.

She keeps things simple but there is enough mystery and tension to keep the story moving. And the characters all have an honesty to them; their faults and virtues as complex and intermingled as is the case in the messy reality of life.

Without didactism, in the pejorative politics disguised as fiction sense, the contrasts and tensions of that part of the world are revealed as we get to know Youssef: Western leaning country with large Muslim population; the constant call for economic development but the seeming intractability of poverty; the social problems that develop when large swaths of the young have no hope for a job or a future; a complicated history that is too often ignored despite its impact on everything from language, culture, and religion to the economy, politics, and journalism.

As Youssef becomes aware of the deceptions his mom has used – to construct a workable story for her son in order to leave the ugliness in the past – the basic plot unfolds.  And the issues he wrestles with are really universal: identity, loyalty, the difficult choices families can present as we attempt to make our own way in the world, etc.

This part of the novel is done with a light hand that allows the characters and the setting to take center stage.  But for me the novel seemed to shift into another gear with Part Three.

When the story switches to Youssef’s sister in California and her conflict with their father, Lalami really begins to ratchet up the tension and the drama.  She effectively uses the novels structure so that the readers feels the emotions of the characters almost in real time as it were.

This works in two ways. The first two-thirds are predominately focused on Youssef and it his story we learn.  But in switching the lens more fully to the other character’s perspectives we begin to understand how complex and rooted in history these conflicts are.  It is suddenly not just a story of Youssef and his identity and future.  The whole complicated history of his family is inescapably intertwined with this question.

At the same time the tension escalates as events unfold in rapid succession.  We feel the sudden betrayal as Youssef is forced back to his mother and the world he thought he had left behind.  We feel the impossible choice his sister Amal is forced to make.  We see how each mother is scheming with the intention of protecting their family almost unaware of the often tragic ramifications.  And when Youseff faces his own impossible choice we feel trapped along with him.

Some reviews complain that the climatic events are overtly political in ways the early story was not.  I didn’t find that to be the case.  Instead, they felt like the final unraveling of threads that had been introduced in the early sections.  Buffeted by the emotional roller-coaster Youssef once again seeks the grand gesture only too realize too late it to is an illusionary solution.

The style is mostly un-adorned and simple which, as noted, allows the story and setting to shine.  But Lalami weaves in some perfectly crafted descriptions and phrases.  She describes a character as having the look of “someone for whom the world had not yet taken off its mask.”  What a great description!

And what might be the philosophical foundation of the novel is summed up by Youssef’s mom Rachida:

The universe had an odd sense of fairness; it took away things one did not want to give up, and then gave things one did not ask for.

True and poignant.  And yet her one time lover, Youssef’s father, offers a different take:

People always said that life was unfair, but maybe it was not.  Life had caught up with him and dealt him a sentence of unendurable fairness.

But while fairness, fate, and the choices life presents is a thread throughout, the concept of home is also foundational.  And once again, Lalami offers a great summation when Youssef comes to recognize the central role of his mother:

The only constant in his life was his mother.  She had played the role of the widow, when she had never had a husband; the role of an orphan, when all along she had had a father.  She had done it for him.  She had lied her way through his life, and yet she had also given him the only certainty in it – her love.  In the end, she was his only home.

It was an inexpressable relief to find out the whole truth, but suddenly it did not seem to matter as much as it once had.

Youssef pays a high price for this truth, but its clarity is all the brighter for it.

Secret Son has many traditional elements: coming of age; rags to riches to rags; East meets West; family versus individual identity; fate versus free will; etc.  But it has a simplicity and honesty that makes it fresh and avoids cliche or a preachy tone.

And in this way it reminds me of why I love fiction and literature.  Lalami and I have little in common in terms of background and life experiences.  And I would bet that our political views are nearly diametrically different.

But her fiction transcends this.  Her obvious talent allows her to craft characters and a story that illuminates both a part of the world I am largely ignorant of and at the same time explores universal aspects of the human condition.

Having read her first novel, my initial connection to the author (blogger) will soon, if it has not already, be buried and lost.  And that is to be expected.  Talented author is a much better description.