lavenderspark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lavenderspark) wrote2015-03-08 10:19 pm
lavenderspark) wrote2015-03-08 10:19 pm
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Water for Elephants and book #5
I really enjoyed WfE! I thought the end would be a little more final, but it was a nice way to end it. I can see why it was made into a movie, though I'm worried about seeing it, because usually when I like a book I end up hating the movie. I usually have to watch the movie first and then read the book. That way I don't have the characters set in my head and the story can be expanded instead of stripped.
I finished it a couple days ago and started a new book today. I'm only a couple pages in, so I don't really have a feel for it yet.
San Piedro Island, north of Puget Sound, is a place so isolated that no one who lives there can afford to make enemies. But in 1954 a local fisherman is found suspiciously drowned, and a Japanese American named Kabuo Miyamoto is charged with his murder. In the course of the ensuing trial, it becomes clear that what is at stake is more than a man's guilt. For on San Pedro, memory grows as thickly as cedar trees and the fields of ripe strawberries--memories of a charmed love affair between a white boy and the Japanese girl who grew up to become Kabuo's wife; memories of land desired, paid for, and lost. Above all, San Piedro is haunted by the memory of what happened to its Japanese residents during World War II, when an entire community was sent into exile while its neighbors watched.
I finished it a couple days ago and started a new book today. I'm only a couple pages in, so I don't really have a feel for it yet.
San Piedro Island, north of Puget Sound, is a place so isolated that no one who lives there can afford to make enemies. But in 1954 a local fisherman is found suspiciously drowned, and a Japanese American named Kabuo Miyamoto is charged with his murder. In the course of the ensuing trial, it becomes clear that what is at stake is more than a man's guilt. For on San Pedro, memory grows as thickly as cedar trees and the fields of ripe strawberries--memories of a charmed love affair between a white boy and the Japanese girl who grew up to become Kabuo's wife; memories of land desired, paid for, and lost. Above all, San Piedro is haunted by the memory of what happened to its Japanese residents during World War II, when an entire community was sent into exile while its neighbors watched.