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Holidays in the Sun: Liturgy of the words
It wouldn't be Christmas without a good book...

by Elizabeth Stewart

Good things come in small packages, and this is the case with some of our gift book choices this year. Ian McEwan's On Chesil Beach (Doubleday, $22) romps home at only 203 pages, but packs a hefty punch nonetheless. Best know in the U.S. for Atonement—just out as a movie—and Saturday, the British author often writes about the dire consequences of miscommunication, of lying or staying silent out of fear or awkwardness. The British, particularly, are trained to be reticent in matters of emotion out of misplaced politeness, and this is the theme in On Chesil Beach. The story begins on the wedding night of Edward and Florence as they sit down for dinner in the honeymoon suite of a hotel on the Dorset Coast. It is early in the '60s—too early in "that celebrated decade" with its "sudden guiltless elevation of sensual pleasure"—and the pair, in their early 20s, are both virgins with worries about what the night will bring.

There are class differences to contend with as well; Edward is the son of a schoolmaster who has had to raise three children alone, although his brain-injured wife is present in the chaos that is their home. Florence, the daughter of a chilly philosophy professor and her wealthy factory-owning husband, may have been involved incestuously, or near-incestuously, with her father. There are hints to that effect, and she certainly knows herself to be repelled by even the idea of sexual relations. Additionally, she is overcome with guilt at the thought that she may have trapped Edward, whom she loves dearly, into a sexless marriage. Edward, who is keeping his tendency to pugnacity well in check, and who "for over a year has been mesmerized by the prospect" of finally making love, is nonetheless worried about sexual performance to the extent that "the matter was rarely out of his thoughts." McEwan's tranquil prose heightens the suspense that has been building from page one, to its unavoidable, transformative conclusion. On Chesil Beach is wonderful reading.

New Zealand writer Lloyd Jones's Mister Pip (The Dial Press, $20) is another short book with power to spare. Set on Bougainville Island, Papua New Guinea, in the early '90s, it's the first-person narrative of Matilda, aged 13, as her village becomes caught in the crossfire of the Panguna Copper Mine conflict—"where the most unspeakable things happened without once raising the ire of the outside world." Her father has left some years before, and Matilda and her strong-willed, irascible mother are left to deal with one another and with the ever increasing incursions of the "redskin" soldiers sent to quell the rebel uprising. One by one, services are cut and eventually the people are left without power, medical supplies or teachers for the kids. The only white person on the island is an eccentric scorned by all and known as Pop Eye. (His real name is Tom Watts and he parades around in a red clown's nose with his native-born wife Grace, who is mentally ill, sitting in a wagon). Watts offers to become teacher in a one-room school, and chooses as his sole instructional aid a copy of Great Expectations.

The voice Jones has found for the staunch Matilda is little short of a miracle, and makes it clear why the book was nominated for the Man Booker prize. As "the rebels and the redskins went on butchering each other," she and her classmates find respite in Victorian England; a friend in Dickens's orphan character, Pip; and analogies for things that have confused or bothered them in life. On Mr. Watts's invitation, the children's parents begin to come to school to share what they know of the world. Tragedy looms, but the once mocked eccentric gathers the villagers in the face of it. Only in its aftermath, when Matilda is grown, does she learn the mundane secrets of Tom Watts, whose unlikely heroism offered courage and respite in the face of death.

A much needed change of pace to humor, lightness and charm are the gifts in the small book created by award-winning San Anselmo poet and painter Prartho Sereno. Causing a Stir: The Secret Lives & Loves of Kitchen Utensils (Mansarovar Press, $16) is a delightful book of poems on the unlikely subject of objects found in the kitchen drawer. In this original work, each piece of common cutlery (and several esoteric items like grapefruit spoons and pickle forks), as well as a number of utensils, is treated to a poem and a delicate watercolor illustration of the item featuring portraits—one suspects of Sereno's friends and relatives. This is the kind of gift to buy by the armload, for all the poetry lovers, artists and cooks on your list. Here is "Tea Ball":

A fragrance is released when the soul

falls through the world, finds herself

at the bottom—the memory of something

aromatic and strong awakening inside.

The tea ball knows this.

She knows how to let go, how to wait

until everything around her is infused

with her own forgotten grace.

When you are cold and lonely,

she is the one to choose, the one

with whom you can linger

in the soothing eddies, and steep.

More charm and humor are found in Alan Bennett's novella, The Uncommon Reader (Farrar, Straus & Giroux, $15). Known principally as a playwright—The History Boys, The Madness of King George—Bennett can just as easily turn his hand to wit. In this sly and subversive tale, Her Majesty the Queen of England pursues her corgis into a bookmobile parked outside the kitchens of Buckingham Palace, and by so doing changes the course of English history. Finding a mentor in Norman, a dishwasher with a taste for gay writers, Her Majesty is soon lured by literature. Affairs of state come in a poor second to staying home with a good book. No longer bound by duty and selflessness, and realizing how much she has missed in life so far, the queen's new passion is mistaken by the courtiers as senility, and steps are taken to discourage it. Bennett's gentle mockery of royal protocol, his asides on writing and writers, and his portrayal of the monarch as a sensible old lady all make for agreeable reading—especially since it has been discovered, through the popularity of the movie starring Helen Mirren, that many Americans are suckers for The Queen.

In contrast, a wonderfully large book has been produced by Point Reyes writers and photographers Richard Blair and Kathleen Goodwin (Point Reyes Visions). California Trip (Color & Light Editions, $49.95) covers the state of the state with 600 fabulous photographs taken from the '60s to the present day, and complemented by a vibrant commentary. The book is to be the first of a series. "Throughout the world, California is the ultimate address," they write, and prove it with sections on its topography, culture and diversity. Documenting the bad and the beautiful, the wild and the just plain weird, California Trip illustrates Edward Abbey's remark, "There is science, logic; reason; there is thought verified by experience. And then there is California."

Daddy, what did kids do before they had video games?

Instead of buying your niece's and nephew's Christmas love with something plastic and plebian, why not get them the greatest gift of all: books. Here are a few of the season's choicest cuts for beginning readers:

If Hieronymous Bosch were a children's illustrator—and not the triptych-mad painter of humanity's basest sins—he'd surely have authored 1-2-3: a Child's First Counting Book. Instead, the talented Alison Jay gets the kids-book glory with this visually arresting collection of reimagined fairytales. Each page highlights deep-focus scenes from famous stories; the illustrations demand repeat viewings to weigh their full impact. Perfect for ages 1 and 2. (Dutton Children's Books, $19.99)

What Will Fat Cat Sit On? may not seem like that imperative a question—but you're not the dog, mouse, pig or chicken that stands to be crushed under the weight of the hefty feline. Fat Cat is illustrated by Jan Thomas in a sort of anti-Alison Jay style; the drawings are simplistic, in-your-face and the typeset is fonted to SHOUT! Still, little kids are going to find this hilarious and adults may even be amused—especially when Fat Cat gets the munchies and all hell breaks lose. Note: Do not—we repeat DO NOT—inadvertently purchase for your tykes the adult film of the same title. (Harcourt, $12.95)

The warblings of an early rising bird set off a chain of events that wakes an entire neighborhood in Waking Up Wendell, April Stevens and Tad Hill's book about the interconnectedness of community—and how that can result in an interrupted night's sleep. No doubt inspired by sleep-deprived parents, Wendell's filled with soft, colorful pictures of swine-dominated suburbia and all the onomatopoeic sounds that come with it. Great for ages 4 to 8. (Schwartz & Wade, $15.99).

It goes without saying that the 50th anniversary retrospective of Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas is a great gift. Not only does it include the classic story of Whoville redemption, but the adults will be pleased with writer Charles Cohen's historic look at Theodor Seuss Geisel's career and the developments that led to the creation of the Grinch, the Whos and Max the dog. For kids age 1 to 92. (Random House, $24.99).—Jason Walsh