The Egyptologist, Arthur Phillips

It's hard to talk about this one without giving the book's "surprise" ending away. This is the story of Egyptologist Ralph Trilipush's archaeological expedition to open the tomb of King Atum-Hadu, a pharaoh whose very existence is questioned by most Egyptian experts. Trilipush hits Egypt in the same season that Carter opens the tomb of Tut-ankh-amen, though without quite the same results. We get the story via letters and journals kept by Trilipush, and through those that correspond with him, and through letters written years later by a detective named Ferrell who is convinced that Trilipush is a fraud. It quickly becomes obvious that the well-born Trilipush is quite the raving egomanic, whose talent for historical revision rivals even mind. The book has a "surprise" ending that I'm sorry to say wasn't much of a surprise, though it was throughout an engaging read. The best way to sum it up: entertaining.

Troll: A Love Story, Johanna Sinisalo

Troll is a semi-sweet taste of Finnish fiction. Handsome, gay, advertising photographer Michael comes home late one night to find a group of teens teasing a young troll cub in his courtyard. Beguiled by the troll, Michael takes it in, hiding it from others even as he tries to learn what to feed it. As his involvement with the troll, Pessi, intensifies, Michael's relationships with others start to warp. Sinisalo's writing, through the filter of translation, is slightly awkward but fast-paced. Action is interspersed with excerpts from scholarly and literary works about trolls. A quick read, a sweet book, but nothing special.

Switch Bitch, Roald Dahl

In his usual inimitable style, Roald Dahl spins yarns in Switch Bitch. The book is a collection of short stories, two about the bachelor playboy Uncle Oswald, whose incendiary diaries can only be published in carefully chosen segments. "The Great Switcheroo" is the story of wife-swapping that goes horribly wrong, and "The Last Act" is positively Cheever-esque until the last moment. "Switch Bitch" is tightly written and lovely; if you enjoy Roald Dahl, this will be enjoyable though sadly quick to read. One note - it's adults only in this case; who knew the same mind that produced "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" could be quite this dirty?

Vile Bodies, Evelyn Waugh

It's odd to have read this so soon after reading American Psycho, because barring the serial murders, the books are very similar. Both are social critiques, even parodies, of a particular class of monied young people. In Waugh's book, the action centers on Adam Symes, alternately penniless and wealthy over the course of the book, and his equally alternate fiancee Nina Blount. A writer, Symes accepts with frightening aplomb the confiscation and destruction of his latest manuscript by customs officials, and the consequently back-breaking book deal his editors make him sign. Hopes destroyed, he can no longer marry, and becomes a gossip columnist. The similarities to American Psycho are striking -- both Symes and Bateman are relentlessly social animals, yet unable to remember who people are. Both have a fine eye for appearances (Bateman for clothes, Symes for hypocrisy). Waugh does with humor what Ellis did with horror.

American Psycho, Brent Easton Ellis

i've read american psycho before, and i rarely reread books, so this was unusual for me. or maybe not, i've been on a rereading kick lately. anyway, ellis's book is just as appalling now as it was when i first read it four years ago. the writing is amazing. pat bateman works on wall street, though family money means he doesn't really need to. he worries obsessively over his clothes (some of the most revolting parts of the book are the litanous descriptions of everyone's attire, which you come to understand are deathly serious issues for this place and time), hair and accessories. we see the world through pat's eyes, and the materialistic '80s never looked worse. pat's group of "friends" are equally as fried and fucked up; their conversations are characterized by non sequitors that make it clear no one is actually listening to anyone else, or often don't even know who they are talking to. bizarre takes a turn for horror when pat loses it one night and attacks a homeless man. we realize then that pat is a serial murderer, and the number of victims zooms upward - friends, girlfriends, prostitutes, a random child. pat is unmoved by his own brutality, making his descriptions of events entirely chilling. this is neither a book for the weak-hearted, nor is it simply a thriller. pat's random violence speaks for the attitudes of society as a whole, focusing your attention on the shallow venality of the day.

House of Sand and Fog, Andre Dubus III

This is one depressing book. It's hard to tell you a whole lot about it without giving away the plot, but the setup is this: Kathy Nicolo is a hardup cleaning woman living in a house in Corona, California, that she inherited from her father. She's evicted one day because of a tax bill that isn't hers, and the police officer who does the job falls for her right away. The house, once she's out, is sold to an Iranian family who, despite appearances, have this one chance to turn their finances around. The county discovers its mistake in evicting Kathy, but the Iranian refuses to give back the property. Her lawyer tells her to stay away from the house, but Kathy can't, and of course, the Iranians don't take to this very well. The book quickly slides down a slope of threats, intimidation and depression. The big lesson? Don't judge people by the way they look, or their possessions -- inside, everyone is just fucking miserable. Well-written, but it'll make you suicidal even if you're feeling fine.

The Virgin Blue, Tracy Chevalier

Chevalier's "The Virgin Blue" is the story of two women, one a French Calvinist in the 1600s, the other a present day midwife. The book switches between the stories of Isabelle and Ella, the story of one informing the genealogical research of the other. Ella moves to France with her architect husband and embarks on French lessons, a search for her French ancestors and, ultimately, she stumbles across a terrible family secret. In the process, she falls in love with a French historian and her marriage begins to unravel. Chevalier's story is interesting, but her writing is disappointing -- the transitions from one woman's life to the others are disjointed and abrupt. Ella's character is ultimately shallow and unappealing, vastly less interesting than that of 16th century Isabelle. A first novel that shows promise but tries a little too hard.

Brick Lane, Monica Ali

Books like this make me feel like I've read too many books. "Brick Lane" has been well-received by critics, and put on various must-read lists, but ultimately it's a story I've read before, many times. The Bangladeshi heroine, Nazneen, narrowly survives birth and grows up in an unhappy home. Her parents marry her to a Bengali immigrant in London -- a much older man whose personal appearance leaves much to be desired. Nazneen embarks on a (not surprisingly) closed-in life of cooking and cleaning for her husband, trimming his corns and nose hair and listening to him rant pedantically about history and politics. She has two children and watches her husband go from bad job to worse. When Nazneen takes a younger man as a lover, she embarks on a path to independence. Add in 9/11 and immigrant politics for current topical interest. There's nothing wrong with "brick lane;" ali's writing has its moments, but overall i'm underwhelmed.

Daughter's Keeper, Aylet Waldman

Elaine and Olivia are mother and daughter, whose tug-of-war over affection hasn't devastated their lives, but is nonetheless inexorable. The stakes of this relationship become higher when Olivia is charged with drug trafficking and must move back in with her mother while she prepares for trial. The picture is further complicated when Olivia discovers she is pregnant by a young Mexican man whose desperation for work inspired him to try dealing drugs. Elaine's fiance, an emotionally distant exercise enthusiaist, loves to cook but is totally uninterested in participating in the situation. Waldman's characters are so easy to identify with that the book sucks you into its emotional turmoil, leaving you ready to cry even after you walk away from it. For all that, the plot is fairy tale predictable, the ending as satisfying as a plate of homemade macaroni and cheese.

Lost in a Good Book, Jasper Fforde

Thursday Next, SpecOps Literary Detective and Jurisfiction Prose Resource Operative, keeps on her toes as she dashes in and out of books, meets crotchety literary figures and keeps the world from turning into pink frosting. Jasper Fforde's second book in the Thursday Next series isn't any easier to follow if you've read the first, but is nonetheless a merry, pun-laden romp. Yes, I used the word "romp"; it was especially meant to describe a book like this and I'm not just being pretentious. Or only a little pretentious. I've meandered into a tangent like this in order to avoid actually describing the plot of this book to you. Let's just say this: it's really fantastic fantasy, and Fforde doesn't feel the need to explain his "science." In his England there are Shakespeare fans so rabid they assume the identity of Anne Hathaway, inventors that make scone dough that never leaves behind any waste, and people keep dodos as pets. Oh, and they've cloned neanderthal man; they drive the trains.

Lost, Gregory Maguire

Gregory Maguire's two previous books gave the Wicked Witch of the West and Cinderella's stepsister a voice -- his retellings of popular fairy tale fantasy were very successful. "Lost" is a depature from that genre into pure fantasy. Winifred Rudge, author and possible descendent of Dickens' Ebenezer Scrooge, has writer's block. Upon arriving for a visit to England, Winifred finds her cousin missing, a ghost haunting his chimney, and a dotty elderly neighbor who gets less dotty and more senile as time goes on. Winifred sets about solving these mysteries with gusto, happily ignoring her own problems while she does it. Things go from mad to madder when she is possessed by the spirit of an medieval Frenchwoman who needs to know whether her child lived when she died. "Lost" intrigues and confuses.

Do Try to Speak As We Do: The Diary of an American Au Pair, Marjorie Leet Ford

Light and sweet like cotton candy, this book is part coming-of-age story, part cultural commentary. Narrator Melissa leaves behind a called-off wedding and unemployment to care for a Parliament member's three children and suffer the biting tongue of their mother while she does it. Melissa clings to sanity my writing letters and keeping a journal describing life in England. "Do Try to Speak As We Do" is quite funny; Ford has skirted the edge of saccharine successfully. A book for the beach, not meant for those seeking something to sink their teeth into.

The Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown

The Da Vinci Code is quick read and an ideal book for people looking for a smart, engaging book to read on a plane. It's a step above your standard airplane book, and certainly the subject material is well beyond the usual book of that kind. This is the story of a Harvard symbologist and a French cryptologist who are thrown into an unlikely Grail quest during a murder investigation. The fast-paced book contains secret societies, conspiracy theories, hidden treasures, and religious revelations. The author was clearly a fan of plot twists, as the ending of the book involves several. Wisely, Brown also resists a "Raiders of the Lost Ark" scene in which God makes an appearance.

In the Forests of Serre, Patricia A. McKillip

I have several friends who like to read but really don't have time for fantasy. This is not the book for them. In the Forests of Serre is entirely a work of fantasy, including princesses, magic and witches. Princess Sidonie of Dacia is sent to Serre to marry its recently widowed prince, who isn't all that interested in cooperating with his father's plans for his future. Sidonie travels with a sorcerer sent along to protect her but things go awry when the untamed magic of Serre corrupts him and he begins to steal the prince's identity. Add an irresistible firebird/woman, a witch fixated on chickens and a terrible monster to the mix and you've got a good read with a reasonably happy ending.

Palomar: The Heartbreak Soup Stories, Gilbert Hernandez

This massive graphic novel brings to life the inhabitants of a backward Mexican town called Palomar, following many of them from birth to death. Palomar brings into one volume Hernandez' output from 1982 to the present time; there are approximately 25 different stories in the book, some as long as two hundred pages, some as short as two. Hernandez' scope is epic, his storylines clearly developed, and the book itself is produced on high-quality glossy paper. It's weight, however, makes reading it something of a chore -- plan to take breaks! I'm more fascinated by the form of this work than the storylines themselves; it's tough to think of many other graphic novels that can rival Palomar in size. The artwork itself is remarkably consistent, given that Hernandez drew the first of these panels 20 years ago. Unfortunately, however, that span of time is most obvious in his rendering of recurring characters that are often only recognizable through their more bizarre physical characteristics (read: scars and enormous breasts). Palomar is definitely worth a read if you're a fan of comics, graphics novels or epics.

Victoria's Daughters, Jerrold M. Packard

I knew a lot of about the long-lived, long-armed, long-loving Queen Victoria and when I read a reference to this book I was curious about about her daughters, about whom I knew nothing. "Victoria's Daughters" chronicles the lives of her five daughers, some of whom married royally and others of whom were quite retiring. The five princesses were in a bad position with an egocentric parent that never let them forget that she was the queen and also lived so long that they were never able to live independent lives. Vicky, Alice, Lenchen, Beatrice and Louise had their entire lives arranged by Victoria; Vicky and Alice were even outlived by their mother. The book is clearly sympathetic to the girls and fairly critical of Victoria's mothering skills in this fairly intimate look at the difficulties of royal life.

Take the Cannoli: Stories From the New World, Sarah Vowell

I have to admit I had high hopes for this book of essays. I've heard Sarah Vaughn on NPR where she is fresh, original and so very funny. Surely a book of essays, many of them written during the same time period, would have the same dry, wry tone? It does, but ultimately Take the Cannoli is unsatisfying. Every essay leaves you wondering if you missed a page, or a paragraph. Her writing simply isn't as tight as her radio delivery. Certainly my expectations have influenced the rating I've given "Take the Cannoli," but I'm allowed to have high hopes, am I not? Still, the book is worth reading and if you aren't as familiar with Vaughn's radio work, you may find it a better read than I did.