Book 2: The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

387 pages of pure intoxication.

"The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within the black-and-white striped canvas tents is an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. It is called Le Cirque des Rêves, and it is only open at night."

All throughout this book my heart ached for the Le Cirque des Reves to be real. (and still do) Its certainly one I plan to read again in the future and certainly add it to my personal library. The attention to detail Ms. Morgenstern pays to relaying the details of the circus, its creators, performers, and admirers, can be a tad overwhelming at first. I'd be lying if I said I didn't find myself getting a bit frustrated at times because there are so many perspectives (causing it to feel a bit jumpy at times). But before you know it the picture moves into sharper focus and it all sinks in.

The journey of Celia and Marco and all those directly and indirectly related to their competition and the circus is so, pun intended; spellbinding. But all complications aside, this book is such a fantastic journey, and afterall is that not what great books are made of? The books I tend to gravitate toward usually involve situations or perspectives that aren't too far from the possible. Not since Tom Robbins' Jitterbug Perfume have I been so swept away. Sights, smells, touch, they are all there amongst the pages of The Night Circus. This is by no means a light read, but one that is a must none-the-less.

Book 1: The Paris Wife by: Paula McClain

Thanks to Anais Nin, I'm such a sucker for the lost generation, more specifically the Paris of the 20's and 30's. This, peppered with my respect for Hemingway (despite him never being my cup of tea in the literary sense), made The Paris Wife a must read. And Paula McClain did not disappoint. Although she could get a little lost in the minutiae, she still painted a lovely portrait of Paris and the life of a very enigmatic writer.

My heart ached when I learned that Hadley's father suffered a similar fate as Hemingway. As the spouse of someone who suffers from depression it was easy to build a connection to Hadley. And while McClain often teetered on the edge of making Hadley into a helpless victim, she quickly found a way to show her resilience, strength, and individuality which left you feeling that no matter what Ernest (or life) threw her way Hadley was going to be just fine. As love can be oh so beautiful and oh so ugly, I thought McClain did a great job showing both sides of Hadley and Ernest's relationship in a very enriching and lovely way. And I can't help but wonder if The Paris Wife is also an ode to the loved ones of artists, who often get the short end of the stick, but who are so pivotal to their success.

And I'll always appreciate a book that can enrage me so, that I can't help but to punch the hubby in the arm, but still find myself turning the pages. (For all his incredible talent Hemingway could be an real bastard). Overall though, If you are a fan of those great writers from bohemian Paris this book would be right up your alley.