The list so far:
Into the Forest, by Jean Heglund
(2) The Remains of the Day, by Kazuo Ishiguro
Who Will Run the Frog Hospital? by Lorrie Moore
If Not Now, When? by Primo Levi
The Red Tent, by Anita Diamant
Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte
My Name is Asher Lev, by Chiam Potok
Mariette in Ecstasy, by Ron Hansen
Mary Reilly, by Valerie Martin
Louisiana Power and Light, by John Dufresne
Dirt Music, by Tim Winton
The Education of Henry Adams, by Henry Adams
I don't think I missed any. (eta Dirt Music)
Could we also, when we decide on the book, could the person who recommended it give a brief description (nothing too spoilery) about it? I guess I'd just like to know, vaguely, what it's about and its tone before I plunge into it. This could be whitefonted.
I love Potok's Chosen, so although I've never read Asher Lev, I am favorably disposed to it. I know I love Remains of the Day, and would be glad to dive into it, again. I will connie and P-C pimp those, though. Frankly, I'll be happy with any of the books mentioned, but will pimp my suggestion, to help people decide.
Earlier, I recommended The Red Tent. In Genesis there is a brief story of Jacob's (Israel's) daughter (much of Jacob's section of Genesis has to do with him and his brother Esau; or him and his wives; or his many sons, including Joseph with the fancy schmancy coat, and a Benjamin I might add, but I digress).
His daughter, Dinah (pronounced like Deena) was born of his wife Leah. Rachel was his favorite wife. Dinah only gets this very brief (violent, revenge-filled, and tragic) story, in Genesis 34. I believe she is not mentioned again, anywhere in either Testament, except in a geneology, in Genesis 46.
Diamant wrote this story from Dinah's point of view, and filled in the blanks with what is known as midrash. I believe I read once that Jewish legend and other extra-Biblical source material helped her flesh it out. Regardless of how she did it--flesh it out, she does. And how.
The story (and the language) is gorgeously rich and vivid. The story is poignant. I read it a couple of years ago, and it has never left it. It hurt when it was over.
(eta Dirt Music, and again for Henry Adams)