In Other Words by Jhumpa Lahiri, translated by Ann Goldstein, narrated by Jhumpa Lahiri, 6:53, Random House AudioThe best narration is a kind of performance, an interpretation. It adds to the reader's experience, providing other layers to plumb. The narration of memoirs and other nonfiction requires a subtlety far greater than fiction, and even professional narrators fall short. In fact, uninspired reading is a nonfiction commonplace. So when an author with no training in narration takes on the most difficult type of book, the result is often flat and uninteresting. At worst, the reading not only fails to add, it subtracts.And, sadly, that is the case as Jhumpa Lahiri, the author of moving and beautiful stories, narrates, "In Other Words," her memoir about adopting Italian as her new language. So determined is Lahiri to separate herself from the language she's always written in, she writes the memoir in Italian and engages Ann Goldstein, whose translations include the works of Elena Ferrante, to turn her prose into English.
While one can admire the Italian immersion, and there is a stubborn courage to Lahiri's undertaking, this effort seems ultimately too personal, too singular. She wrestles with Italian's complexities and her motivation for pursuing it, but the struggle feels distant. The two short stories within the memoir are transparent, too related to this personal quest to transcend it. The enterprise feels turned in upon itself, not really meant for us."I have an ambivalent relationship with this book," she writes in the afterword. And perhaps that lies behind her narration. Uncertain of her content, her voice unintentionally withdraws approval. The Sound of Gravel by Ruth Wariner, narrated by Ruth Wariner, 9:04, Macmillan AudioIt has to be difficult for an author to let someone else tell her story. who else can she trust with it? Given what Ruth Wariner, the author of "The Sound of Gravel," has gone through, handing this book to anyone else surely felt impossible. But the result is an undistinguished reading that fails to live up to the story's possibilities.
That said, Wariner's childhood is so full of hardship and even horrors, she could have sung it to the tune of the alphabet song and few would have turned it off. Wariner is the 39th child of the prophet whose father founded Colonia LeBaron, a polygamous community in Mexico. Her childhood in this fundamentalist Mormon cult was one of naked poverty, in which adults sang "Count Your Blessings" in the face of their children's want. Here, stupidity and evil masquerade behind the guise of religion, and the notion of forgiveness becomes an instrument of bondage.Wariner's story confirms every bad thing ever imagined about these groups in which young girls are force to marry old men. It makes "Big Love" seem like "Little House on the Prairie." And sometimes, it just feels like voyeurism. In the end, after Wariner and the siblings who escaped the colony are adults — Wariner is a high school Spanish teacher — we learn one of the brothers had married a second wife. With that unexamined tidbit, it all feels a bit hopeless.
Anna and the Swallow Man by Gavriel Savit, narrated by Allan Corduner, 6:30, Listening Library, ages 12-17Allan Corduner narrates the story of a little girl, Anna Lania, abandoned during the Nazi takeover of Poland. In a debut novel by Gavriel Savit, which seems as charged with wonder as it is with menace, Corduner's performance maintains a similarly fine balance.When Anna's father disappears into the Nazi camps, the people of Krakow are already too frightened to intervene in the life of a solitary child. Only a tall, slender man who can summon birds to his hand takes notice of the girl in the red and white dress, crouching on the street, hoping her father will return. The Swallow Man, as Anna calls him, becomes Anna's father and teacher as the two travel together through the war-riven country.The narrator, Corduner, is probably best known for his role as composer Arthur Sullivan in the Mike Leigh film "Topsy-Turvy." He voiced some two dozen titles, including "The Book Thief" and James Gleick's biography of Isaac Newton.
"Anna and the Swallow Man" is recommended for 12- to 17-year-olds. The vocabulary may sometimes prove challenging for younger listeners.Jenni Laidman is a regular Printers Row contributor.The requested URL /books/title/?id=2476 was not found on this server.October 16 is the birthday of American teacher and lexicographer, Noah Webster, which consequentially makes it Dictionary Day. Now, I will admit that looking up words in the dictionary is a great way to improve your vocabulary. Unfortunately, the dictionary can make for some dry reading, which is why most of the words I’ve learned have come from novels I have read. Sometimes I can figure them out from context clues, but others require some help from Mr. Webster. Here is a list of words I have learned from reading. I learned this word from Edgar Alan Poe’s The Cask of Amontillado, which I remember reading in the 7th Mr. Webster would define impunity as “freedom from punishment, harm or loss.” Though, I wonder if we asked Montresor if he truly punished Fortunato with impunity what he would say.
I’m embarrassed to say that I learned this word not that long ago when reading The Swiss Family Robinson, by Johann Wyss. A co-worker told me it was their favorite book growing up, so I decided to read it. I had seen the word in other books and glanced over it, always confusing it with the word corpse and so thought it meant a small graveyard. However, Mr. Webster would define copse as “a thicket of small trees or shrubs,” which makes more sense, especially when I read it in Tami Hoag’s Cold Cold Heart later that same month. No one will be surprised when I say I learned this word while reading Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, as this is what Mayella Ewell says she invited Tom Robinson in to bust up. But what is it? Webster would define a chifferobe as “a combination of wardrobe and a chest of drawers.” Strangely enough I didn’t encounter this word until I was reading Arthur Hailey’s The Evening News. Since that time, I have read it in other books and even heard it used in a movie.
Webster defines histrionic as “behavior that is too emotional or dramatic.” I immediately assumed that this word was related to hysterical, but after playing word detective (one of my favorite pastimes) I discovered the words are from different roots, and histrionics is more drama queen adjacent, while hysterical is when your emotions are so strong you have no control over your behavior, which is why Harry Partridge’s editor yells, “Stop the histrionics,” instead of “Stop being hysterical.” I had read this word in many books, but always translated it in my mind as “apathy.” Nothing could be further from the truth, I learned while reading Tess of the d’Urbervilles, by Thomas Hardy. The moment I read about the antipathy Tess felt toward Alec, I knew I had the definition wrong. Mr. Webster defines antipathy as “a strong feeling of dislike,” which is completely opposite of the definition of apathy and makes much more sense in the case of Tess and Alec. I have learned other words while reading, such as convivial and defenestrate, and though I can’t remember where I read all of the words I’ve learned, the words have stuck with me, increasing my vocabulary and sometimes making me look smarter than I really am.