Winter Solstice by Rosamunde Pilcher

When our book club nominated "Winter/Christmas-themed books," Winter Solstice by Rosamunde Pilcher was one not chosen. I decided to read it anyways.

I did not love it. 

It's ostensibly about 5 lonely/disconnected people who find themselves together in a house in Scotland for the Christmas holidays. 

While it would be fine as a character-study, I didn't find any of the characters particularly enthralling. 

We are supposed to love them all because... well because they are the characters in the book. There's a lot of "telling, not showing," and so I can't really say we get to know any of them well. Carries is beautiful, but stoic. Elfrida is eccentric and marches to her own beat. Oscar is... I don't know.  An organist who... Sam... something, something... The most sketched out character is 14-year-old Lucy, but only because we get to read her diary. It is there that she comes alive. She is a typical teenager trying to make sense of the world the adults have given her. She is both sweet and self-absorbed. Apparently we are supposed to love them all and see them as the family we wish we could choose.

The problem is that I didn't love any of them. Even Lucy was hard to stomach at times. Carrie decides to rescue her from her very selfish grandmother and mother, whom we are clearly supposed to reject, yet their selfishness doesn't look that different from that of the others. Oscar and Sam are sympathetic, but we don't really get to know them, so... Also it's clear we are not supposed to like judgmental, religious people. Oh yeah, and that adultery is good when one of ours does it; bad when it's done to one of ours...

While we are supposed to cheer on the formation of a chosen family by these lonely, misunderstood outcasts, I honestly didn't care by the end. 

It's nice that Oscar returns to church in the end, I suppose, but the why and the how and the "therefore, what..." are completely truncated. And so the ending is also unsatisfying. 

Maybe I'm being overly harsh and the adultery stuff was too much. I don't know. I just know I didn't respond the way GoodReads says I was supposed to.

Letters From Father Christmas by J.R.R. Tolkien

Every time our book club meets, we choose a book and reject several others. This one ended up on the rejection pile. It's too bad.

Letters From Father Christmas by J.R.R. Tolkien is magical in the best sense of the word. 

From 1920 - 1943, Tolkien's children would receive beautifully illustrated letters from Father Christmas, updating them on his adventures at the North Pole, with commentary by his hapless assistant, North Polar Bear (N.P.B.). 

Father Christmas (or F.C. as he begins to refer to himself) delights to receive letters from the children, although as the years go on and the children grow, he receives fewer and fewer. His first letter is addressed to 3-year-old John, and his last to 14-year-old Priscilla. 

We see the children grow up and go off to (presumably boarding) school. We get hints of the magic fading and the very real longing of F.C. to keep the story going. 

In fact, as the letters progress, the letters get longer, the pictures get more detailed, the number of characters grow, and the adventures pick up right where they left off the year before. By the end, when F.C. signs off for what he knows to be the last time, our heart breaks. He, N.P.B., his secretary Ilbereth, the N.P.B.'s nephews Paksu and Valkotukka who came to visit and never left, the red gnomes, the reindeer, the snow people, the elves, and all the others that inhabit that world will continue on, as they always have: the presents, the shortages, the mishaps, the miscommunications, the warfare, the parties, the joys, the fears. But the children are simply too old. They are no longer interested. The Letters From Father Christmas cease because the letters from John, Michael, Chris, and Priscilla have ceased. 

What a wonderful gift that his children and descendants preserved the letters, envelopes, and drawings and published them for the rest of us to delight in. 

A Boy Called Christmas by Matt Haig

Our book club chose a light-hearted winter/Christmas read after a couple of heavy endeavors: A Boy Called Christmas by Matt Haig. It's a children's tale of the way in which Santa Clause becomes, well, Santa Clause. 

We begin with a boy named Nikolas, who was born on Christmas, and so is nicknamed "Christmas."

His mom is dead, having defended him from a bear in the frozen lands in which he lives. His father is off on a journey to discover if Elfhelm, the home of the legendary elves, actually exists. And Nikolas is stuck at home with his awful Aunt Carlotta. Eventually, Nikolas takes off with his trusty mouse, Miika, to find his dad.

Each adventure gets Nikolas closer to being the Father Christmas we know today. He finds and befriends a reindeer, they are revived from near death by the elusive elves using magic, which gives them magical abilities, he must escape from a prison through a too tiny and too high chimney (magic), he and his reindeer friend, Blitzen, fly (magic) off to find his father, he welcomed into the elven community, but must adopt the title of the elders, "Father." Because of his glorious reign and genuine desire to do good, he no longer ages and gives himself the moniker, Father Christmas.

His transformation is complete. 

The book was an easy read, as expected. Nikolas encounters some truly horrific situations. But it's predictable and didn't really add anything to the Santa story we all know. I guess I was hoping for something more clever than... magic. 

Oh well. 

The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey

The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey is a magical realism novel about a childless couple, Jack and Mabel, homesteading in 1920s Alaska who build a snow child that mysteriously comes to life as a wild girl named Faina. The book explores themes of love, loss, isolation, and the boundary between myth and reality. Inspired by Russian folklore, the story follows the couple as they form a bond with the ethereal Faina, who appears and disappears with the seasons, forcing them to confront their grief and find hope in the harsh Alaskan wilderness. (AI)

Charlotte's Web by E.B. White

Cary Christian is doing a faculty book club in order to acquaint our staff with what and how we teach. Our latest read is Charlotte's Web by E.B. White.

I read this book as a child and found it magical. I read it again to our children and loved it just as much. I will say the ending it heart-rending, however.

But this time, although I expected the same magic, I didn't feel it. 

I hate to say it, but maybe I'm too old...?

It's hard for me to try to suspend disbelief and imagine non-humans as sentient. I love Toy Story, but it only works if the toys are alive in Andy's imagination. If they are truly sentient, the ramifications are too horrifying to contemplate.

I wanted Wilbur and Charlotte and Templeton to be alive in Fern's imagination. But not only does the book disallow that entirely, Fern loses interest in the whole animal world when she meets a boy! 

I realize it's a children's story exploring themes of friendship and sacrifice. White nicely contrasts Templeton, who never learns to look beyond his own selfish appetites, and Charlotte, who sacrifices all for Wilbur. The pig, himself, grows a bit as he realizes he just might be who Charlotte has always seen him as. All very human. But if real for a single moment, I am a mass murderer of hundreds of other Charlottes found lurking in my home. 

I hate to be a spoiler of magic, but I just couldn't feel it this time.