Hunger Pangs by Cinthia Ritchie

Fine Print: Cindi is a former co-worker and current friend. She gave me a copy of the book in manuscript form for my own enjoyment, but I decided to share my reaction to the world, or at least post it on this site.

What I’m reading now: “Middlemarch” by George Eliot

Cinthia Ritchie’s agent is currently shopping “Hunger Pangs” around to various publishers. Once it hits a home and makes its way to the shelves, you should check out this literary memoir because the language is beautiful and story haunting.

Readers of the Anchorage Daily News are familiar with Ritchie’s work. She has been an award-winning features writer and columnist for several years. Ritchie has the knack to make the person she’s interviewing alive by noticing small gestures and certain phrases. Ritchie earned her MFA from University of Alaska Anchorage and has published her stories, poetry and essays in a variety of local and national publications. The Rasmuson Foundation awarded her a grant to work on “Hunger Pangs.”

When you read this lyrical work, you might want to have some food nearby. I don’t mean popcorn you can idly snack on. I mean some hardy nourishment, preferably something that will drip and stain on your clothes to remind you that you are not starving yourself like the narrator and her sister, that you are healthy and of sound mind. I craved thick hot chocolate, not the brown, powdered sugar but the kind that will scald your tongue even with whipped cream. Short of that, I ate chocolate chips.

Food plays a central role in this book. Food connects memory and family; food is a way to punish and reward; food is so much more than mashed potatoes and stolen sweets. The book makes me think about my eating habits, my images of myself and food, and my relationship to food. The book does not delve into the cliché of the woman coveting Bon Bons in the closet, but instead presents a horrific image of a girl, several girls, unable to savor food, and in some cases life, because of the stepfather’s abuse of the narrator and her sisters.

The writing is that exquisite kind that makes you realize we haven’t yet lost society to iPods. It is not a skip-through-the-pages easy read. I had to set it down, let myself breathe, read something a little more happy and come back when I was in a better place. But when I did come back, when I was ready, it was as rich and as bitter and as satisfying as quality dark chocolate.

The version I read may not be the one you find in stores, but the story and the hungry, haunting feeling will remain.

The version I read skips around and reads more like an essay than a narrative. Because the narrator is discussing her disjointed childhood and its effects on her now, I think that skipping is warranted and adds an element of craziness that connects us to the story. Not that we don’t just want to hug her, because we do.

One editor complained the book didn’t have resolution, but this is not a tidy book, a blow-dried hair and stilettos book. This is a wild, barefoot, farm-child book and a memoir of a woman who is still working on her own resolution. It would be an injustice to tie this story up with a red ribbon. It is much more satisfying to see her feet bleed in the end and have her kiss a man we may not want her to kiss.

Like with many good books that draw me into their world, I am left wanting more. I want to know more about her son and his father, about other elements in her life. I want to see each family member a little clearer, even Deena whom we know so well and whose death drives the book.

A Deeper Sleep by Dana Stabenow

Fine Print: When someone heard I was moving to Alaska, she quickly grabbed a scrap piece of paper and wrote down Dana Stabenow's name. "You have to read her books," she said. I'm generally not a fan of genre mysteries (Ladies Number One Detective Agency series an exception) so it took me a while to pick up a book of hers. Below is a review I wrote for the Anchorage Daily News. Somewhat Spoiler Alert.

Book I'm reading now: "Hunger Pangs" by Cinthia Ritchie (in manuscript form, her agent is currently shopping it around to publishers.)

Dana Stabenow’s latest Kate Shugak novel raises questions about small town ethics and justice. Though “A Deeper Sleep” starts with a murder, the book is not about finding who done it. Within a few pages, we learn about the man most believe is responsible for the killing – and several other deaths that are described in vignettes which contain the book’s best writing.

A jury finds the supposed murderer, Louis Deem, not guilty, and former assistant to the Anchorage district attorney Shugak and her love interest state trooper Jim Chopin believe Deem has again gotten away with murder. Stabenow never clarifies who killed the women, though Deem, who was dating and beating them, is the most likely candidate and an all around bad guy. The next couple of murders in the book are also unsolved until the end when the apparent truth varies from what most characters believe, and justice is not traditionally served. The unresolved ending sets up the 16^th book in the series but leaves the reader unsettled.

Plot and catching up new readers to the series create clunky introductions of characters and pat dialogue, as if Stabenow has to present the familiar faces fans expect as opposed to the people living the story.

We learn Shugak is tough and everyone is scared of her because Stabenow tells us so from Chopin’s perspective. But other than a couple planted scenes, we don’t see her as someone to be afraid of. She is stubborn, opinionated and not shy about taking control, but that’s not scary.

I’m not sure why Shugak doesn’t want to follow her late grandmother’s wishes and footsteps to be a leader in the tribal council. By all accounts, she already is a role model and just needs to hop aboard the council seat, but for whatever reason, she doesn’t. It might just be a stubborn kick she has or she has some genuine concerns. The absence of her reasons grates.

A favorite character and element that emerges is Auntie Vi and her cohorts known collectively as the aunties. They bring out the best in Shugak and don’t let Stabenow play too many author tricks with them. Still, they have flaws and can make mistakes, but their errors only make them more real and believable.

Despite the characterization imperfections and some awkward moments, I wanted to know what would happen. I read the book in three sittings in one day, pushing aside other obligations and delaying dinner. Stabenow knows how to keep the pace of the book moving forward and the reader wanting more.

One of the series’ and book’s strengths is the glimpse of Alaska life. The courtroom scene and crime investigation are not slick like on TV but more like the awkward, human and seemingly incomplete ones we read about in the newspaper. The frigid area known as the Park and the small towns of Niniltna and Ahtna are populated with Pilgrim-family look-alikes, effects of FAS, domestic violence, the tribal system, people grateful for flush toilets and aunties that can host a great potlatch.