Biblio's Bloggins

Gail Collins provides a lively and entertaining biography of the shortest serving American president

2012-01-29T10:48:00.000-05:00

Book 13: William Henry Harrison by Gail Collins

William Henry Harrison is the most recent entry in Times Books’ The American Presidents series.

It’s also one of final books in this uniformly superb series of brief biographies of American presidents. Upcoming books on William Howard Taft and John F. Kennedy complete the series up to (but not including) Bill Clinton.

William Henry Harrison is a highly readable book. Collins is a journalist, not a historian, so she knows how to tell a story, and Harrison’s story is an intriguing one.

He was president for only 31 days. In his late sixties when elected, it is widely believed Harrison attempted to display his stamina by delivering a two-hour inaugural address on a cold and rainy day in Washington in early March. A month later he was dead from the effects of pneumonia.

Vice President John Tyler became president and that’s a story in itself. A half dozen political leaders, including Daniel Webster, had declined the vice presidential nomination. “It was one of those moments when you can imagine an alternative path into the future closing itself off,” Collins writes.

Harrison became the first presidential candidate to actively campaign for the office. He took to the campaign trail, in part, to defuse rumors that he was too old and feeble for the job.

Harrison was helped in to office by his overly inflated reputation as an heroic Indian fighter; principally at the Battle of Tippecanoe. (Hence the phrase, “Tippecanoe and Tyler too,” which most of us remember, but don’t necessarily connect to Harrison.)

I am a long-standing fan of this series. Each biography runs less than 200 pages. This particular book is only 125 pages, but, frankly, how much needs to be written about Harrison? 125 pages seems about right.

Collins' William Henry Harrison is a lively and entertaining look at the shortest serving American president.

On Rereading and Forgotten Bookmarks

2012-01-23T16:21:00.000-05:00

Reading about books or about reading is a genuine pleasure for the bibliophile. January brought two books on those topics.

Book 4: Forgotten Bookmarks by Michael Popek

Forgotten Bookmarks is unadulterated book porn.

The author, Michael Popek, works in his family’s used bookstore.

As books were purchased for sale in the store, Popek observed that occasionally there were objects tucked into the pages of the books . . . letters, photographs, pressed flowers, baseball cards and recipes.

He began to catalog his finds on forgottenbookmarks.com. Now, he’s doing the same thing in the pages of this book of the same name. Each page features a high-resolution photograph of a book and the object that was found within it.

Popek tells about the book . . . the title, author, publisher and year of publication. He also furnishes details about the treasure hidden inside. A photograph, for example, is reproduced along with any writing on the flip side. Letters are transcribed.

Among the more unusual items are beer coasters, four-leaf covers and seven razor blades inside Stenciling With Style.

It’s a lovely book that will resonate with habitués of used book stores, who have certainly uncovered their own treasures through the years.

Book 11: On Rereading by Patricia Meyer Spacks

Spacks is a professor of English at the University of Virginia, about 50 miles down the road from me through Civil War battlefields, Virginia horse country and the Piedmont.

In On Rereading she explores rereading. Some people scorn it, but others – such as Spacks – understand that rereading has values uniquely its own.

She explores those values, which include the pleasure of revisiting a favorite book from childhood, uncovering new depths of meaning within a novel or stumbling upon the realization that the book may not have changed, but the reader has; a realization that can be equally disturbing or gratifying.

“I want to use rereading as a way to think about reading . . . but questions about the worth of rereading as an act in itself lie at the heart of my present investigation, which aspires to discover the significance and consequence of this activity. Rereading can appear like avoidance, yet I believe that it constitutes a form of engagement,” Spacks writes.

There’s an academic undertone to On Rereading, but it’s not a trudge. Spacks clearly loves reading just as much as anyone who is attracted to this book. Her love of reading guarantees that there will be moments, perhaps many of them, when the reader sees himself reflected in Spacks’s work.

Ellis delivers while Mosley, Burke and Block stumble

2012-01-22T13:41:00.000-05:00

Book 10: Breach of Trust by David Ellis

This is the second novel by Ellis featuring Chicago attorney Jason Kolarich.

Determined to solve the murder of a potential witness in a trial, Jason uncovers evidence of corruption in the Illinois Governor’s Office. (Now that’s a stretch.)

Jason agrees to aid the Feds in their investigation, believing that his efforts as an undercover informant will also lead him to the men who ordered the witness murdered.

It’s a compelling thriller. Ellis is a solid writer and the book is given a boost by Ellis's inside knowledge of Illinois government – he was the impeachment prosecutor who convicted Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich before the state Senate. How's that for credentials?

Book 9: When The Thrill Is Gone by Walter Mosley

Book 12: The Glass Rainbow by James Lee Burke

Mosley and Burke have been at this a while. I think it’s time they retired. Both books feel tired and as if the author is mailing in it.

Mosley is trying to gin up energy with Leonid McGill, a character he introduced a few books earlier. It isn’t working as Mosley is more interested in sorting through his attitude toward this country’s race relations than he is in any plot points.

Burke is simply retelling the same story book after book after book. If you’ve read any of his earlier novels featuring Dave Robicheaux you’ve read this one.

I could enumerate a host of faults, but I don’t care to do it. There are some indications this could be Burke’s final Robicheaux novel. The ending is unresolved, and the outcome could go either way. Wish I cared what that outcome was.

I started reading both authors long ago and I’m only reading them now to satisfy some obsessive-compulsive need to keep a series going. Gotta stop that.

Book 14: Getting Off by Lawrence Block

A female serial killer finds true love. Lots of gratuitous sex and violence. Not my cup of tea.

James and Austen is a perfect pairing

2012-01-16T15:20:00.000-05:00

Book 8: Death Comes to Pemberley by P.D. James

A lot of people who would enjoy this book may well pass it by.

Some because they are unfamiliar with P.D. James, a grandmaster of the British mystery.

Others because they have had their fill of all the Jane Austen knock-offs. The tipping points may have been when Pride and Prejudice and Zombies made its appearance on bookstore shelves.

Granted, that’s a bit much, but Death Comes to Pemberley is a perfect pairing.

James is a superb writer. She’s a literary descendant of Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers. A better, more muscular writer than either, in her books James has complete command over the plot, characters and setting.

And more than a few mystery writers today have studied her work. She specializes in littering her stories with little clues that lead to the guilty party, but she’s so skillful it doesn’t all come together until the denouement.

As for Miss Austen – she occupies a rarefied pantheon of literary giants. People have been reading and enjoying her books for two centuries now. She’s definitely stood the test of time.

I’m not an Austenphile. I haven’t read all her books, but I admire the ones I have read. (And I do enjoy those lush period-piece movies based on her work.) And this isn’t the book Austen would have written if she had penned a sequel to Pride and Prejudice, but . . .

Death Comes to Pemberley works – at every level. It’s a satisfying whodunit that also works as the next chapter (literally) in the lives of the characters who inhabit Pride and Prejudice.

James is true to the spirit of Jane Austen. Death Comes to Pemberley is James’ homage to Austen; it’s one great British writer paying her respect to another, greater author.

Like chocolate and wine, James and Austen is a pairing for the ages.

Before I Go To Sleep a rewarding, complex thriller

2012-01-15T11:59:00.000-05:00

Book 6: Before I Go To Sleep by S.J. Watson

Each morning, Christine awakes to a mystery.

She is much older than she knows herself to be. She does not know the man sleeping next to her. She is unfamiliar with the room she wakes to.

Christine has not only forgotten what she ate for dinner the previous evening. She has forgotten everything that happened to her the previous day. And the day before that. And before that. She has forgotten years. Decades.

The man in bed next to her – her husband Ben – patiently explains that years earlier she suffered a devastating brain trauma when she was struck by a car while walking to work. Now, each night, as she sleeps, her memories are erased.

Christine remembers her childhood. She remembers fragments of her life as a young woman, but almost everything else has been swept clean.

But there is another mystery that inhabits Christine’s life. Soon after S.J. Watson opens her provocative first novel, we learn that Christine is keeping a journal. A few weeks earlier a doctor had shown up on her doorstep. “I think I can help you,” he tells her. The journal is part of her therapy, and the key to unlocking the mystery that envelopes her.

The journal seems to help Christine reclaim lost memories. It also leads to the discovery that Ben is lying to her. She wasn’t hit by a car, but severely beaten. She didn’t work as a secretary, but had reached her long-desired goal of writing a novel. Ben claims the couple was childless, but Christine remembers a son.

Why is Ben lying? And why has she written, in bold letters, “Don’t Tell Ben” on the first page of her journal?

What does Christine really remember and what is only her imagination? What’s more trustworthy, the written words she has committed to her journal? Or Ben’s quiet assurances?

Through the slow, yet steady accretion of information in her journal, a reconnection with her long-lost best friend and her doctor’s patient counsel, Christine slowly begins to realize that something is horrifically wrong with her life; something more than the nightly erasure of memory.

It is a credit to S.J. Watson’s skills as a writer than the reader’s revelations keeps pace with Christine’s. Her dawning awareness, her growing horror – are also our own. Like Christine, we must patiently let the mystery come to us, allow the accumulation of facts to unveil what the mind has hidden.

The reader quickly dismisses any doubts about the implausibility of the of premise of Before I Go To Sleep – the nightly erasure of Christine’s memory – as they are enveloped in superbly plotted thriller of stunning complexity.

A thriller that will have you rooting for a woman determined to reclaim her life and to guarantee that the evil that has stolen her past and present will have no claim on her future.

2012 Reading -- Part Two

2012-01-14T11:04:00.000-05:00

Book 5: Lean on Pete by Willy Vlautin

I have never feared for a character’s safety as much as I did for15-year-old Charley Thompson, the protagonist of Willy Vlautin’s Lean on Pete.

Vlautin, a singer and songwriter as well as a novelist, came to my attention after reading something somewhere in which George Pelecanos talked about how much he liked Vlautin’s writing, especially this novel.

Pelecanos is right. Vlautin's something special.

In its structure, Lean On Pete borrows from classic stories in which the main character must embark on a perilous journey. The character will face many tests en route – tests of courage and strength and moral fidelity – but will find safety and happiness if he successfully reaches his destination.

Charley is orphaned, and left homeless, midway through the novel. His mother apparently deserted the family when Charley was an infant. His dad does his best, but he’s clearly a man overwhelmed by familial responsibilities, including the need to keep a job, food in the fridge and to be home each night.

Charley and his father have just moved to Portland when the novel opens. Although we never know why, the move is clearly driven more by his father's need to flee his past life than to any attractions Portland might hold.

A poor choice of a new girlfriend leads to the death of Charley’s dad.

Charley gets by – he is a resourceful lad – picking up a few dollars working for a horse breeder at a nearby track. The track becomes a temporary home, but when Lean On Pete, a race horse in Charley’s care, is destined to be shipped to Mexico to be turned into dog food, Charley kidnaps Pete and sets off from Portland to Wyoming to find his aunt.

Everyone Charley meets is a potential threat. Some of those threats are very real. On his journey, Charley is beaten and robbed. There is an unspoken, but genuine fear, that he may become sexual prey or idly murdered. That Charley finds the occasional individual willing to give him a ride, a meal, a few bucks or the promise of a job comes almost as a surprise.

Lean On Pete works because of Charley Thompson. Simply put, he’s a good kid. Willing to shovel the manure from a horse stall for the promise of a few bucks or wash the dishes after a rare sit-down dinner. Charley’s needs are few. He wants to go to school and play football, he wants to know there’s going to be food on the table (like every 15-year-old boy he’s always hungry) and a warm bed at night.

Finally, he wants someone to love and who will love him in turn.

Charley’s travels, from Portland to Wyoming, isn’t Homeric in scale, but his journey into the cusp of manhood is just that. Vlautin’s novel is an epic tale of a perilous journey toward wisdom and integrity and love.

2012 Reading -- Part One

2012-01-13T15:01:00.000-05:00

I have a plan for my reading in 2012.

The first part of the plan involves rereading. I’ll get to that topic in a future post.

The second part of the plan revolves around the need to reduce the pile of books to be read that are taking over my library like the tribbles took over the Enterprise.

Implementation of the second part of my 2012 reading plan is underway. I’ve decided that in January, and possibly February, I will focus almost exclusively on reading mysteries and thrillers. I enjoy the genre and books in that category generally prove to be a quick read.

The experiment is working. I’ve read eight books in 11 days, and, although the book pile is shrinking imperceptibly, I’m feeling better about all those books to be read.

Here’s one-half of a summary of my reading in 2012:

Book 1: North of Nowhere by Steve Hamilton

After reading The Lock Artist I resolved to become better acquainted with the work of Steve Hamilton.

That resolve was strengthened after discovering that his Alex McKnight series was set in the U.P. I have vacationed in The Yoop two of the last three years. I’ve been to The Soo, Paradise and Whitefish Bay – all locations that regularly appear in Hamilton’s series.

Hamilton’s an entertaining writer. His plots move with the speed of a north wind out of Canada, McKnight is an appealing character and the location is unique. North of Nowhere is the fourth book in the series. From my perspective, the books just get better and better.

Book 2: The Outlaw Album by Daniel Woodrell

Book 7: Crimes in Southern Indiana by Frank Bill

Two short story collections – from Daniel Woodrell and Frank Bill – that might be characterized as Hillbilly Noir.

The Outlaw Album is the first short story collection from Woodrell, an accomplished novelist who is often compared to Cormac McCarthy. Crimes in Southern Indiana is not only Bill’s first story collection, it’s his first book.

Both are great; a disturbing serving of violence and depravity. Woodrell's collection is the strongest, but he’s been at it the longest. Crimes in Southern Indiana is an impressive debut.

There are similarities in the subject matter. Both Woodrell and Bill explore a poor, marginalized segment of the American population that includes tweakers and drug dealers, the greedy and the victimized, hapless law enforcement officers and folks who simply see settling a disagreement with a gun as a logical and reasonable response.

I especially enjoyed The Echo of Neighborly Bones and Uncle by Woodrell; two stories as haunting and as disturbing as anything written by Stephen King.

Book 3: The Impossible Dead by Ian Rankin

Initially, I didn’t warm up to Ian Rankin’s new series, featuring Malcom Fox and the Complaints, Britain’s version of America’s Internal Affairs.

The Impossible Dead, Rankin's second book featuring the Complaints, was slow taking off. Other cops don’t like the Complaints, practice a lot of passive-aggressive behavior and call it cooperation, etc., etc., etc.

But a third of the way into the novel, Fox starts digging into a long-forgotten cold case that appears to be connected to the current case of cop corruption he’s investigating and The Impossible Dead starts reading like an Ian Rankin thriller – flat-out riveting.

Fox isn’t Rebus, but by the time The Impossible Dead steams to its conclusion, it’s evident that Rankin’s new series, and his new cast of characters, has the potential to be just as compelling as the Rebus novels.

Tomorrow: A summary of books four, five, six and eight.

Best Reads of 2011

2012-01-01T11:05:00.001-05:00

A baseball diamond and the circus, two magic places, were at the heart of my best reads in 2011.

Those books, both by first-time novelists, were The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach and The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern.

The Art of Fielding is about the inability to find perfection on the baseball diamond or in human relationships. The Night Circus is the story of a mysterious magical challenge played out a circus that appears only between dusk and dawn. Both are love stories. Both were superbly written.

Other top reads in fiction:

The Long Ships by Frans G. Bengtsson. Vikings. Hidden gold. Sailing ships. Swords and pillage. Do I need to say more?

Mockingbird by Kathryn Erskine -- don't be put off by the fact that this book is for young readers. It deals with very adult emotions. Erskine is a Virginia writer who drew her inspiration for this novel from the Virginia Tech shootings.

You Know When the Men Are Gone by Siobhan Fallon. Tremendous short story collection.

State of Wonder by Ann Patchett. A modern take on Conrad's Heart of Darkness.

The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes. A surprise ending from a modern master. Winner of the 2011 Booker Prize.

Train Dreams by Denis Johnson. The sweep of one man's life is captured in 116 pages.

The Cut by George Pelecanos. A return to form by this D.C. writer. Riveting.

In non-fiction, here's what I liked:

Faulks on Fiction by Sebastian Faulks. Reading about books is one of my guilty pleasures. Faulks is an entertaining enabler.

The Killing of Crazy Horse by Thomas Powers. I'll never tire of reading about the Little Big Horn.

Blood, Bones & Butter by Gabrielle Hamilton. I like reading about food almost as much as I like reading about books. Just an awesome memoir.

Yogi Berra Eternal Yankee by Allen Barra. The only baseball book worth passing on in 2011. Gotta love Yogi and Barra (no relationship) does right by him; clearly making the case that Mr. Berra is one of the greatest -- on and off the field.

Just Kids by Patti Smith. Another awesome memoir. Absolutely fascinating. Great insight in the development of an artist.

The Greater Journey by David McCullough. Read this. Watch Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris and fall in love with the City of Lights.

Biblio Baggins's 2011 Reading List

2012-01-01T10:43:00.003-05:00

“You always read too many books . . . That can’t lead to any good.”

--Arturo Perez-Reverte

“I care about the reader . . . That one person, alone in a room, whose time I’m asking for. I want my books to be worth the reader’s time . . . The novels I love are novels I live for. They make me feel smarter, more alive, more tender toward the world.”

--Jeffrey Eugenides
in an interview in The Paris Review

I read 135 books in 2011, midway between the 114 in 2010 and the 161 in 2009.

A few highlights:

I read Margaret Mitchell's Gone With The Wind for the first time.
I read my very first Stephen King novel, Under the Dome.
I read, finally, Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace. Absolutely the longest book I've ever read.
And after reading lots of non-fiction by Larry McMurtry, I finally read one of his novels, Lonesome Dove.

Because some of you will want to know, of those books, I liked Lonesome Dove the best. It is a great yarn and destined to be an American classic.

Here's all the books for 2011.

January

1. A Rule Against Murder, Louise Penny

2. The Brutal Telling, Louise Penny

3. The Long Ships, Frans G. Bengtsson

4. The Spot, David Means

5. Guitar, An American Life, Tim Brookes

6. The Anniversary Man, R.J. Ellory

7. Four Fish, Paul Greenberg

8. Zero History, William Gibson

9. The Sherlockian, Graham Moore

10. Andrew Johnson, Annette Gordon-Reed

11. Star Island, Carl Hiaasen

12. The Sentry, Robert Crais

13. Al Jaffee’s Mad Life, Mary-Lou Weisman

14. I’d Know You Anywhere, Laura Lippman

15. Mockingbird, Kathryn Erskine

February

16. Lonesome Dove, Larry McMurtry

17. Swamplandia!, Karen Russell

18. Running the Books, Avi Steinberg

19. Known to Evil, Walter Mosley

20. The Darkness That Comes Before, R. Scott Bakker

21. The Warrior Prophet, R. Scott Bakker

22. The Thousandfold Thought, R. Scott Bakker

23. Faulks on Fiction, Sebastian Faulks

March

24. A Red Herring Without Mustard, Alan Bradley

25. Bury Your Dead, Louise Penny

26. Human Croquet, Kate Atkinson

27. The Death of King Arthur, Sir Thomas Malory, retelling by Peter Ackroyd

28. The Killing of Crazy Horse, Thomas Powers

29. Sunset Park, Paul Auster

30. Blood, Bones & Butter, Gabrielle Hamilton

31. The Small Boat of Great Sorrows, Dan Fesperman

32. Jerry Robinson, Ambassador of Comics, N.C. Christopher Couch

33. Kraken, China Mieville

34. The Bricklayer, Noah Boyd

35. The Girl in the Green Raincoat, Laura Lippman

April

36. Winter in the Blood, James Welch

37. The Georges and the Jewels, Jane Smiley

38. The Hangman, Louise Penny

39. Tomato Red, Daniel Woodrell

40. The Lost Gate, Orson Scott Card

41. Yogi Berra Eternal Yankee, Allen Barra

42. The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, David Mitchell

43. Townie, Andre Dubus III

44. The Welsh Girl, Peter Ho Davies

45. Run!, Dean Karnazes

46. The Fifth Witness, Michael Connelly

47. Bird Cloud, Annie Proulx

48. The Death of Sweet Mister, Daniel Woodrell

49. Wonder, Robert J. Sawyer

50. When the Killing’s Done, T.C. Boyle

51. Flyover People, Cheryl Unruh

May

52. Twice A Spy, Keith Thomson

53. Just Kids, Patti Smith

54. The Waters Rising, Sheri S. Tepper

55. The Uncoupling, Meg Wolitzer

56. Agent X, Noah Boyd

57. Moon Over Manifest, Clare Vanderpool

58. Cleopatra, Stacy Schiff

59. Lost Souls, Michael Collins

60. Selected Stories, William Trevor

61. Millard Fillmore, Paul Finkelman

62. The City and The City, China Mieville

June

63. The Widower’s Tale, Julia Glass

64. You Know When the Men Are Gone, Siobhan Fallon

65. Embassytown, China Mieville

66. A Well-Paid Slave, Brad Snyder

67. The Tragedy of Arthur, Arthur Phillips

68. Rizzo’s Fire, Lou Manfredo

69. The Alchemist, Paolo Bacigalupi

70. Bradbury An Illustrated Life, Jerry Weist

71. The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, Sherman Alexie

72. The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ, Philip Pullman

73. The Greater Journey, David McCullough

74. State of Wonder, Ann Patchett

75. It’s All About The Bike, Robert Penn

July

76. The Snowman, Jo Nesbo

77. Rodin’s Debutante, Ward Just

78. A Visit From the Goon Squad, Jennifer Egan

79. Lockdown, Walter Dean Myers

80. Mrs. Darcy and the Blue-Eyed Stranger, Lee Smith

81. Gone With the Wind, Margaret Mitchell

August

82. The Dewey Decimal System, Nathan Larson

83. A Good Fall, Ha Jin

84. A Cold Day in Paradise, Steve Hamilton

85. Rule 34, Charles Stross

86. Robopocalypse, Daniel H. Wilson

87. The London Train, Tessa Hadley

88. All the Time In The World, E.L. Doctorow

89. Winter of the Wolf Moon, Steve Hamilton

90. Disturbance, Jan Burke

91. The Fort, Bernard Cornwell

92. Washington, Ron Chernow

93. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, J.K. Rowling

94. Not the End of the World, Kate Atkinson

September

95. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, J.K. Rowling

96. The Cut, George Pelecanos

97. Reservation Road, John Burnham Schwartz

98. The Sense of an Ending, Julian Barnes

99. A Trick of the Light, Louise Penny

100. Homicide Survivors Picnic, Lorraine M. Lopez

101. Supergods, Grant Morrison

102. Before the Poison, Peter Robinson

103 Just My Type, Simon Garfield

104. Northwest Corner, John Burnham Schwartz

105. The Hunting Wind, Steve Hamilton

October

106. The Affair, Lee Child

107. Stan Musial An American Life, George Vecsey

108. The Art of Fielding, Chad Harbach

109. Luka and the Fire of Life, Salman Rushdie

110. Salvage the Bones, Jesmyn Ward

111. Destiny of the Republic, Candice Millard

112. White Noise, Don DeLillo

113. The Baseball Codes, Jason Turbow w/Michael Duca

114. Dangerous Laughter, Steven Millhauser

115. Under the Dome, Stephen King

116. Train Dreams, Denis Johnson

November

117. Death of Kings, Bernard Cornwell

118. The Sisters Brothers, Patrick DeWitt

119. The Apothecary, Maile Meloy

120. Death in the City of Light, David King

121. The Marriage Plot, Jeffrey Eugenides

122. Half Blood Blues, Esi Edugyan

123. The Buddha in the Attic, Julie Otsuka

124. King of the Badgers, Philip Hensher

125. The Night Circus, Erin Morgenstern

126. Emotionally Weird, Kate Atkinson

127. I Am Half-Sick of Shadows, Alan Bradley

December

128. The Sojourn, Andrew Krivak

129. Lost Memory of Skin, Russell Banks

130. The Stranger’s Child, Alan Hollinghurst

131. Pigeon English, Stephen Kelman

132. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy

133. Tales of Burning Love, Louise Erdrich

134. Alpha Better Juice, Roy Blount Jr.

135. The Drop, Michael Connelly

Second 2011 Challenge: The To-Be-Read Pile

2012-01-01T10:13:00.001-05:00

The second Internet reading challenge of 2011 was put forth by Adam at the Roof Beam Reader. The idea behind the 2011 To Be Read Pile Challenge was to take 12 books and two alternates that have been on your bookshelf or "to be read" list for more than a year and actually read those books in 2011.

So that's what I did. I read all 12 books and the two alternates. Here's the list:

1. Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry
2. Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
3. War and Peace by Mr. Tolstoy
4. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling
5. The Darkness That Comes Before by R. Scott Bakker
6. Under the Dome by Stephen King
7. White Noise by Don Delillo
8. Yogi Berra Eternal Yankee by Allen Barra
9. The Welsh Girl by Peter Ho Davies
10. Winter in the Blood by James Welch
11. Human Croquet by Kate Atkinson
12. Emotionally Weird by Kate Atkinson

Alternates:
Reservation Road by John Burnham Schwartz
Tales of Burning Love by Louise Erdrich

I enjoyed this contest and the motivation it provided. I would have read some of the books in any event, but the challenge provided me with the extra incentive to read them all.

Thanks Adam.

2011 Chunkster Challenge

2012-01-01T09:55:00.000-05:00

I accepted two Internet reading challenges in 2011. The first was the Chunkster Reading Challenge.

In this challenge, size matters. A "chunkster" is defined as a book, fiction or non-fiction, that's 450 pages long or longer.

The challenge has different levels. I accepted the Mor-book-ly Obese challenge, which calls for reading eight chunksters, three of 750+ pages. Here's how I did:

Books 750+
Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry, 945 pages
Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell, 1148 pages
Washington by Ron Chernow, 817 pages
Under the Dome by Stephen King, 1074 pages
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, 1386 pages

Books 450+
The Long Ships by Frans G. Bengtsson, 503 pages
The Darkness That Comes Before by R. Scott Bakker, 577 pages
The Warrior Prophet by R. Scott Bakker, 600 pages
The Killing of Crazy Horse by Thomas Powers, 467 pages
Kraken by China Mieville, 509 pages
The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet by David Mitchell, 469 pages
The Waters Rising by Sheri S. Tepper, 498 pages
The Greater Journey by David McCullough, 456 pages
The Fort by Bernard Cornwell, 464 pages
The Stranger's Child by Alan Hollinghurst, 564 pages
Tales of Burning Love by Louise Erdrich, 452 pages

Five books in excess of 750 pages. I needed three. Eleven books in excess of 450 pages. I needed five.

Challenge met!

Finishing 2011 with The Drop and Alpha Better Juice

2011-12-31T12:50:00.000-05:00

Here are the final two books of 2011.

Tomorrow we'll post the full 2011 reading list, the results of two Internet reading "challenges" and my thoughts on the best reads of 2011.

Book 135: The Drop by Michael Connelly

Detective Harry Bosch returns in Michael Connelly's The Drop. Fans of Connelly's novels, and I count myself among them, know what to expect -- a tightly written, riveting thriller that keeps the accelerator to the floor from the first page to the last.

Yeah, Connelly's that good. And although I'm also a fan of defense attorney Mickey Haller, another Connelly character, I think Bosch is his finest creation.

Bosch is hard-nosed and uncompromising, yet clings to a romantic view of his job as a detective. "Everybody counts or nobody counts" is the maxim that motivates Bosch in his crusade to bring justice to the forgotten victims of brutal crimes.

That motto ensnares Bosch in a political tug-of-war between the L.A. city council and the police commissioner. Councilman Irvin Irving's son is found dead. Did he leap from the seventh floor of his posh hotel room or was he dropped?

Irving, "scourge of the LAPD in general and one Detective Harry Bosch in particular," asks that Bosch be assigned the case because he believes Harry will tell him the truth about what happened to his son "no matter how it falls."

The death of Irving's son isn't Harry's only case. A hit on a 20-year-old cold case -- a spot of blood on the victim's neck -- belongs to a convicted sex offender. Results of DNA testing are overwhelming, yet that sex offender couldn't have committed the brutal rape and murder because he was only eight years old when the crime was committed.

How'd his blood end up on the neck of a murder victim? The answer to that question leads Harry and his partner to a horrific discovery.

Two crimes to investigate and along the way Connelly continues to explore Harry's relationship with his 15-year-old daughter, conflict with his partner and a new girlfriend.

The Drop? Connelly's editors at Little, Brown could have called it The Bomb.

Book 134: Alpha Better Juice by Roy Blount Jr.

Alpha Better Juice is Roy Blount Jr.'s second collection on words with an emphasis on the way words sound.

Blount has coined a word -- sonicky -- to describe both the way many words sound and their meaning.

"I needed a word that combined sonic and kinesthetic," he writes. "I needed . . . to describe an intrinsic significant value that . . . does evoke meaning by a combination of its sound and its movement."

Blount takes exception to theoretical linguistics, which contends that the relations between words and their meanings is arbitrary.

"Any huckster, any animal caller, any lover, any poet, anybody knows better than that," says Blount. "The sounds of letters and the words they constitute, and the kinetics involved in their oral utterance, and the rhythms of their combinations, have inherent signficiant value."

Sonicky words, to name only a few, include bubble, fuzz, knickknack, skimpy, gobble, smooch and ooze.

Blount is best known for his humorous writing. In Alpha Better Juice, he strikes a perfect balance; he's serious about words and how words sound, but he's entertaining to the point of evoking an occassional guffaw -- another of those sonicky words.

On War and Peace and Tales of Burning Love

2011-12-30T11:18:00.000-05:00

Book 132: War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy

What is there for me to say about a book many consider the greatest novel ever written?

I could say that 21st Century tastes don't agree with 19th Century writing, but that's far too broad an observation. Besides, I'm a Dickens fan boy, which eliminates that argument.

It's not the length of War and Peace that troubles me. Novels that I read this past year by Stephen King, Margaret Mitchell and Larry McMurtry all weighed in at more than 1,000 pages. And all those novels demonstrated that a 1,000-plus pages can read like 220 pages, which is also true -- at times -- of Tolstoy.

When he tells the story of Count Bezuhov, Rostov or Prince Bolkonsky -- their misfortunes in love, financial woes or valor in war -- he weaves a compelling story. But when he doesn't do that -- and he doesn't do it a lot -- Tolstoy loses me.

By today's standards, War and Peace isn't a pure novel. It's as much a philosophical treatise on the vagaries of war, the existence of free will in man and a dozen other musings as well as a loose history of the Napoleonic Wars.

I prefer a narrative uncluttered by philosophical observation.

Finally, War and Peace is often portrayed as a celebration of the Russian spirit. I struggle with that. All of the people portrayed here, in any depth, are Russian gentry -- counts, princes and princesses. Thousands of servants and serfs are only shadowy background figures. It is difficult, if not impossible, to truly capture the spirit of the Russian people without telling their story.

More than anything, I just want to say I've read it -- all 1,386 pages of this Modern Library paperback edition. That's enough for now. It's quite a lot actually.

Book 133: Tales of Burning Love by Louise Erdrich

Tales of Burning Love, Louise Erdrich's most erotic novel, is the story of Jack Mauser, a North Dakota building contractor, and his five wives.

Jack's first marriage lasted only a few hours. That wife walked off into a North Dakota blizzard. Between that marriage and his current one, Jack was married three more times. He still sees all three ex-wives and is still in love with one of them.

It's the second marriage for his current wife. She's still married to husband number one who is in prison for life.

There's a lot of moving parts of Tales of Burning Love. Jack fakes his own death after his house burns to the ground. Someone kidnaps his infant son in the middle of a blizzard. The first husband of wife number five escapes from prison. And all that is secondary to the stories the wives tell.

After attending Jack's funeral, his four living wives are stranded in a car in the midst of a North Dakota blizzard. To stay alert, and alive, the wives agree to each tell a true story, a story "you've never told another soul, a story that would scorch paper, heat up the air!"

The stories (Erdrich has always had a penchant for slipping whole stories, stories that can stand alone, into her novels) do heat up the air even as they serve to tell us more about Jack Mauser and the lives of his wives.

Erdrich is skillful at drawing all the separate strands of a convoluted plot into a coherent whole. She demonstrates that skill here as she brings Tales of Burning Love to a satisfying, and steamy, conclusion.

A fresh, original voice debuts in Pigeon English

2011-12-29T13:10:00.000-05:00

Book 131: Pigeon English by Stephen Kelman

Pigeon English, short-listed for the 2011 Booker Prize, introduces a lively and original voice in author Stephen Kelman.

The novel is narrated by 11-year-old Harri Opoku, who, along with his mother and sister, recent emigrated from Ghana to England. They live in a flat on the ninth floor of an inner city housing estate.

Harri's voice is unique and captivating. Kelman captures his 11-year-old bravado; Harri is alternately timid and bold, boastful and modest. (He assures us that he's among the fastest runner in Year 7).

A particularly fine touch is the way Kelman reflects Harri's understanding of the English language. The meaning of some phrases and slang completely elude him, while he quickly embraces the complexities of other street lingo.

Kelman captures, too, the push and pull of societal pressures that places temptation in Harri's path. His desire to be a good boy and to please his hard-working mother is balanced against his desire for acceptance by the local ring of adolescent thugs.

Harri is at once naive, yet wise. Like most 11-year-olds he does not yet know what he doesn't know, a condition that makes him vulnerable to dangers he does not even suspect exist.

The novel draws its dramatic intensity from the discovery of a student's body early in the story. Harri and a classmate are determined to solve the murder. Initially, their efforts are comic as they mimic the language and methods of television's CSI. But Harri's investigation has not gone unnoticed and the comic aspect soon takes a serious turn.

Kelman makes only one misstep in Pigeon English. There are a few isolated passages when he breaks away from Harri's narration to tell the story through the voice of a pigeon. It is an unfortunate decision on Kelman's part. Clumsy and ineffective, those brief passages only distract from the power of Harri's voice.

It's easy to forgive such a misstep -- Pigeon English is Kelman's first novel. All things considered, it is a strong debut by a fresh and original voice.

The Stranger's Child lacks passion, purpose

2011-12-22T13:04:00.000-05:00

Book 130: The Stranger’s Child by Alan Hollinghurst

The Stranger's Child by Alan Hollinghurst is a simulacrum of a great novel -- exquistely written, yet curiously absent any passion or purpose.

Perhaps the novel fails because its central character, Cecil Valance, is on stage all too briefly. We meet Cecil in the opening section of the book, by section two he is already off stage, killed by a sniper in World War I.

In that opening section, Cecil, a promising young poet, arrives at Two Acres, the home of the Sawle family. Cecil and George, the second of three Sawle children, are students at Cambridge. They are lovers.

During the course of Cecil's visit, Daphne, the youngest of the Sawle children, asks him to sign her autograph book. After he has departed, it is discovered that Cecil has scrawled a poem across several of the books' pages. Daphne is convinced it was written for her. George knows he is its inspiration.

The poem, Two Acres, becomes Cecil Valance's best known work. It will be memorized by a couple of generations of British schoolchildren and then forgotten as Cecil is destined to be regarded as a "first-rate second-rate poet."

Section two jumps forward a decade or more. Cecil is dead as is Hubert, the oldest of the Sawle children. George has married a humorless woman. Daphne is married to Cecil's brother. They have two children.

The novel continues to leap forward in time, finally arriving in the present day. As the story advances, the Sawle family recedes into the background as does Cecil's reputation. New characters are introduced, including one grows up to write a controversial biography of Cecil Valance.

Comparisons to Julian Barnes' Booker-prize winning Sense of An Ending are inevitable. Barnes gives his narrator, and the reader, an emotional jolt with a surprise revelation that casts a magnetic influence over his entire novella and that commands a reader's musings weeks after the books has been completed and set aside.

Hollinghurst's novels lacks such resonance and reverberation. The novel, like the fictional Cecil's poetry, is quickly forgotten.

The Stranger's Child is like an elaborately painted eggshell. Beautiful on the exterior, but its interior entirely lacking in substance.

Unlikely protagonists undercut The Sojourn and Lost Memory of Skin

2011-12-17T17:30:00.000-05:00

An Austro-Hungarian sniper in World War I and a convicted sex offender are the unlikely protagonists in two novels that promise more than they deliver.

Book 128: The Sojourn by Andrew Krivak

Shortlisted for the 2011 National Book Award, The Sojourn is the sort of novel that contest judges love -- filled with weighty themes from the despoliation of innocence to the meaning of life and the horrors of war.

Jozef Vinich is an America who finds himself at war through a series of unfortunate events and misjudgments. While an infant, in Colorado, Jozef's mother is killed after taking a stroll along a train trestle.

Unsuccessful in America and mourning the loss of his wife, Jozef's father packs up his son and his trusty rifle and returns to his native Austria-Hungary. A cruel step-mother, two bullying step-brothers and an impoverished life as a shepherd await Jozef.

When war breaks out, Jozef lies about his age and enlists. His skill with a rifle -- honed while hunting for food when not tending sheep -- leads to his assignment as a sniper.

We follow Jozef through the war, his capture and subsequent imprisonment and his return home. During that return, Jozef befriends a pregnant woman. She dies giving birth and Jozef assumes responsibility for returning the infant to the woman's family. Clearly, it is opportunity for redemption for the death's bestowed at a remove during the war.

The Sojourn breaks no new ground. Many of the scenes in the novel feel stale and predictable. Other war novels have told this story before, and told it better.

Book 129: Lost Memory of Skin by Russell Banks

A far more promising and original novel is Lost Memory of Skin by Russell Banks.

It's the story of the Kid, a 22-year-old, sex offender living, with other sex offenders, beneath a highway overpass. The irony is that the Kid is a virgin who has yet to kiss a woman.

An egregious misstep in judgment led to his arrest and conviction. The punishment imposed on the Kid is excessive and seems likely to follow him throughout his life. That's one of the points Banks seeks to make. The Kid isn't so bad, just unfortunate. He never knew his father and his mother abetted her son's addiction to pornography.

Had the novel remained focused on the Kid, it might have worked. Maybe. The Kid is still a most unlikely protagonist. The trouble is that Banks introduces a second character, a college professor seeking to interview the Kid in support of his theory that sex offenders can reintegrated into society.

But in the course of the novel, the professor turns up dead. Either he killed himself, disconsolate that his wife has left him or because he was also a sex offender and the police were closing in or -- and this is where the novel really goes off the rails -- he was a spy who was killed because he knew to much.

Really. A spy? Where'd that come from.

Banks never resolves the question of the professor's suicide/murder. And, after introducing the possibility of a shadowy espionage ring, I'm not sure he could.

Banks' dalliance with the professor also distracts and diminishes from the Kid's story, turning the entire novel into farce. What begins as a provocative and thoughtful novel, ends disappointingly.

Flavia stars once more in Bradley's enertaining I Am Half-Sick of Shadows

2011-12-16T16:43:00.000-05:00

Book 127: I Am Half-Sick of Shadows by Alan Bradley

Setting out to prove that Saint Nick exists, Flavia de Luce, Alan Bradley's delightfully implausible 11-year-old sleuth, captures a murderer instead.

I Am Half-Sick of Shadows is the fourth entry in Bradley's mystery series featuring Flavia, her father and sisters and the inhabitants of the village of Bishop's Lacey. It's as charming as the previous novels, which is to say very charming; very charming, indeed.

Christmas has come to Buckshaw, the de Luce estate, and with it a London film crew. Before filming can commence, a key member of the cast is murdered. Once again, Flavia must circumvent the local constabulary and her own distraction due to the imminent arrival of Saint Nick, to bring the murderer to justice.

With her flair for investigation, her love of poisons and her general knowledge of chemistry, as well as her skill as making her two older sisters' lives miserable, Flavia has quickly earned a place of prominence in English literature and in the hearts of Bradley's readers.

If you have yet to read a Flavia de Luce novel, any of the books will do. They are uniformly wonderful.

Book 126: Emotionally Weird by Kate Atkinson

Here's something original I've yet to say about a Kate Atkinson novel -- this book is awful.

It's Atkinson's third book and, as such, a dividing line between her first two books -- Behind the Scenes at the Museum, her splendid debut novel, and Human Croquet, which was good but not great -- and her recent novels featuring private investigator Jackson Brodie.

Those recent novels are truly fine books, well written and entertaining; everything, I'm afraid, that Emotionally Weird is not. I could say more, but there doesn't seem to be any reason for that. Pick up her first book, definitely pick up the Jackson Brodie novels, but give Emotionally Weird a wide, wide pass.

The Night Circus wholly original, absolutely entrancing

2011-12-13T18:07:00.000-05:00

Book 125: The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

Love and magic, so inextricably linked in popular culture, are antagonists in The Night Circus, Erin Morgenstern’s alluring first novel.

The Night Circus is the story of a man and woman locked in a decades-long magic competition. They do not know the rules of the competition or its consequences. For many years, they remain a mystery to one another, competing in a shadowy vacuum, wondering if each person they meet might be their opponent.

What they do know is that the venue for the competition is a mysterious circus. Its tents and performers dressed only in black and white or shades of gray, the circus appears without warning in locations throughout the world. It is open only between sundown and sunrise. Its performers and everyone affiliated with it never seem to age.

The competition is the creation of two aging magicians striving to settle a philosophical disagreement about the nature of magic. In creating the competition they have ensnared, and disrupted, hundreds of lives, including the daughter of one of the magicians.

And in bringing together that daughter and an orphan boy, raised and trained by the second magician, they have unintentionally woven a spell -- not of magic, but love.

Morgenstern’s two protagonist must ultimately settle the question of which is greater – magic or love.

In doing so, Morgenstern weaves her own magical spell.

The Night Circus is wholly original and absolutely entrancing, a formidable first novel. It leaves me with two great wishes: that I had written this book and that on some future occasion, after the sun has set, I may visit this magical circus.

King of the Badgers a disappointing effort

2011-12-04T12:16:00.000-05:00

Book 124: King of the Badgers by Philip Hensher

I still have not the slightest idea what Philip Hensher was trying to accomplish in the disappointing King of the Badgers.

The novel begins in one direction -- the faked kidnapping of a little girl -- switches directions rather abruptly -- gay lovers who run a cheese shop -- only to switch directions once more --an unhappy and overweight gay man who, to quote Mick Jagger, can't get no satisfaction.

Ostensibly, Hensher is trying to peel back the layers of Hanmouth, a small English town near the Bristol Channel. Lots of authors have used the disconnected-yet-connected narrative format to much greater effect.

King of Badgers never takes flight. The "connectedness" that Hensher seeks to develop never emerges and none of the individual stories prove interesting enough to elevate the novel.

This is a disappointing effort by a writer vastly more talented than the material presented here.

Otsuka weaves a haunting, powerful tale in The Buddha in the Attic

2011-12-03T15:47:00.000-05:00

Book 123: The Buddha in the Attic by Julie Otsuka

Lyrical, yet muscular, Julie Otsuka's The Buddha in the Attic is an unconventional novel that relies on hundreds of voices to tell a single story

In less than 130 pages, Otsuka tells the compelling story of a generation of Japanese women who travel to an unknown land to begin a new life with men who are strangers to them. The novel was short-listed for the 2011 National Book Award.

The unknown land is America. The strangers are Japanese bachelors, most years older than the young women, who labor at the bottom rung of American society -- itinerant laborers living in barns, shanties and tents.

The women are a source of sex, an extra set of hands picking strawberries or plowing a field and, finally, the foundation of Japanese-American families. Families that are uprooted and relocated to remote desert or mountainous internment camps following Pearl Harbor and America's entry into World War II.

Typically, this story -- a sad chapter in American history -- would be told through the voice of a single narrator. The Buddha in the Attic draw its power -- and its haunting lyricism -- from Otsuka's decision to tell the story using hundreds of voices rather than one.

By doing so, she is is able to tap a wider range of experiences and to elevate the story from that of an individual to a people. This is an extraordinary novel whose story lingers long after the book has been put away.

Half-Blood Blues a gripping, compelling novel

2011-11-29T17:48:00.000-05:00

Book 122: Half Blood Blues by Esi Edugyan

Half-Blood Blues is a melancholy composition of envy and regret.

Written by Esi Edugyan, and short-listed for the 2011 Booker Prize, the novel focuses on a trio of jazz musicians. It ranges from Nazi Germany in 1936 to occupied France to Europe in the early '90s.

The trio is comprised of two Baltimore-born, African Americans -- Sid Griffiths and Chip Jones --- and Hieronymous Falk, a promising young trumpet-player. Falk is a mischling, a derogatory term used during the Third Reich to denote someone with only partial Aryan ancestry.

Falk has a German mother and an African father. His mixed parentage places him a grave risk from zealous Nazis.

In the mid '30s, Falks, Griffiths and Jones are part of the Hot Time Swingers, a popular Berlin jazz band. After a run-in with Nazis, the three flee to Paris. There two of the three – Jones and Falk -- begin recording with Louis Armstrong.

Shattered by his exclusion from the recording process, Griffiths resentment of Falk grows. He is envious of the young man’s talent, his opportunity and the praise that comes his way. Griffith also feels threatened because he believes Falk is competition for an attractive woman who is briefly Griffith’s lover.

The war follows the men to Paris. Before the three can escape, Griffiths makes a decision that leads to Falk’s arrest. The young musician disappears and is not heard from again for decades.

When Falk does resurface, Sid must confront his actions and the emotions that drove them.

The treatment of blacks by the Nazis during World War II is a historical tragedy largely neglected by fiction writers. Edugyan is to be praised for her illuminating exploration of this important, but long-neglected subject.

Her portrayal of Berlin and Paris in the hands of the Nazis -- and the ever present threat to Falk because of his parentage -- is gripping.

Her portrayal of the musicians and their devotion to their craft is also spot on.

Half-Blood Blues is a compelling novel from a gifted and insightful young writer.

Eugenides delivers old school novel with The Marriage Plot

2011-11-22T15:53:00.000-05:00

Book 121: The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides

There's an element of old school to Jeffrey Eugenides long-awaited third novel, The Marriage Plot.

The plot is familiar -- Mitchell loves Madeleine, Madeleine loves Leonard and Leonard, well, we're not sure about Leonard.

To say why we're unsure about Leonard or other aspects of the plot would serve to undermine a reader's enjoyment of this novel. We've waited nine years for this book, so what's the harm is waiting a little longer to let its story unfold.

I can say this much -- when they first meet Mitchell, Madeleine and Leonard are all students at Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island. Before it ends, Mitchell is traversing the world in search of spiritual enlightment. Madeleine and Leonard are setting up housekeeping, although that doesn't go as expected.

What separates The Marriage Plot from other novels with a similar plot is, of course, the book's author Jeffrey Eugenides.

The characters are finely drawn. They are, at turns likeable and unlikeable; never so unbelievably good or irrdeemably bad as to be caricatures. Instead, they emerge as real people, someone we've known.

That's one of Eugenides' gifts as a writer, to bring characters to life.

Another gift is that he is so closely observant of human nature. The book is filled finely drawn passages that are beautiful -- not because of the language, although that's there -- but because those passages ring so true.

And there is a slyness to Eugenides' observation, a passing comment on life today that evokes empathy rather than mockery, understanding rather than contempt.

It's a wholly satisfying novel with an ending that is exactly right. The Marriage Plot was worth the wait.

Book 120: Death in the City of Light by David King

David King's Death in the City of Light was promoted as a non-fiction book akin to Erik Larson's The Devil in White City.

Superficially, the books are similar. The Devil in White City in the story of a serial killer in Chicago in 1983 when the World's Fair was attracting visitors by the thousands.

Death in the City of Light is the story of a serial killer in Nazi-occupied Paris during World War II.

That's where the similarities end. Larson's novelistic account is far and away the superior book.

King's account of Dr. Marcel Petiot never takes off. All the ingredients are there, but the author isn't able to gin up any suspense.

The Sisters Brothers wildly inventive; The Apothecary a satisfying tale for readers of every age

2011-11-13T18:30:00.000-05:00

Two more books that I recommend:

Book 118: The Sisters Brothers by Patrick DeWitt

Patrick DeWitt's The Sisters Brothers is an odd choice to be one of the six books short-listed for the 2011 Booker Prize.

Not that it isn't good, it's a hell of an entertaining read. It's just that The Sisters Brothers is this unusual mash-up. It's a picaresque Western, a thriller with a heavy dash of noir and a meditation on morality and the meaning of life.

It's the story of Eli and Charlie Sisters, two 19th Century hitmen. They're bound to the gold fields outside Sacramento with a contract on gold miner Hermann Kermit Warm. Warm has gotten crosswise with the Sisters brothers' boss, the Commodore.

The Sisters Brothers reads like a Coen brother film. Think Blood Simple. It's dark and comic and wildly inventive.

(BTW, the cover of the English edition of The Sisters Brothers is absolutely cool.)

Book 119: The Apothecary by Maile Meloy

In 2009, Maile Meloy published a short story collection, Both Ways Is The Only Way I Want It, that was nothing short of terrific.

Now she's written The Apothecary, a novel for young reader. It's terrific too.

The Apothecary is told by 14-year-old Janie Scott. It's 1952 and Janie and her parents have just moved from California to London. Janie's mom and dad are screen writers and they've fled Hollywood to avoid an investigation by the House Un-American Activities Committee. Little do they know that the move will plunge Janie into far more dangeorus circumstances.

Janie's schoolmate, Benjamin Burrows, is the son of the local apothecary. He's doing more than mixing elixirs to ease symptoms of the common cold. Benjamin's dad is part of an international network committed to using ancient transformative elixirs, compounds and tinctures to undermine tests of the nuclear weapons that are proliferating as Cold War tensions heighten.

The Apothecary is spell-binding with the right balance of evil teachers, young love, magical spells (or science masquerading as magic) and heroic acts by the youthful cast.

Young readers who are fans of Harry Potter will enjoy Meloy's first venture into juvenile literature.

That goes for older readers too.

All Johnson's talents on display in Train Dreams, Cornwell soars in Death of Kings

2011-11-12T15:10:00.000-05:00

Two terrific, and very different novels:

Book 116: Train Dreams by Denis Johnson

Denis Johnson captures the sweep of one man's life in the span of 116 pages.

This novella -- Train Dreams is so brief that it can't reasonably be called a novel -- is a remarkable performance and unlike almost any other book you care to name.

In telling the story of Robert Grainier, in the American West at the beginning of the 20th Century, Johnson ranges from the prosaic to the elegaic, from magical to dream-like to mundane.

It is a powerful and moving book that puts Johnson's considerable talents on full display.

Book 117: Death of Kings by Bernard Cornwell

In Death of Kings we approach the end of Cornwell's Saxon Series. There are one, perhaps two books, remaining at most. I will be sad to see it go.

King Alfred has died. Uhtred, Cornwell's hero, anticipates a invasion by the land-hungry Danes in the wake of his death.

Yet the Danes are not the only obstacle confronting Uhtred. He must also overcome the suspicions of churchmen, who mistrust him because he is a pagan and because he embraces much of the Danish way of life.

But Uhtred's heart lies with Alfred's daughter and so he gives his loyalty to Alfred's son, Edward, who is now the king.

Uhtred must contrive to keep the Danes at bay until he convince Edwards of the merits of his arguments.

To do so, he relies on brains as well as brawn in Death of Kings. Cornwell writes as eloquently of political machinations as he does scenes of battle.

But it is the battle scenes in which Death of Kings soars. Men are tested in the brutal confines of the shield wall. Even as Uhtred receives a glimpse of his mortality, his arm and his heart remain strong, vital, and England remains free.

King's Under the Dome a riveting read

2011-11-05T16:44:00.000-04:00

Book 115: Under the Dome by Stephen King

A virgin no more.

In late October, I completed by first novel, Under the Dome, by horrormeister Stephen King.

It's a fat book, a tome, yet despite weighing in at almost 1,100 pages, the book is an amazingly quick read. In the author's notes, King said, "I tried to write a book that would keep the pedal consistently to the metal."

And to his credit, King has done exactly that. An exceptional storyteller, King is the kind of writer who keeps you reading for pages and pages after you think it's time to stop for the day.

Under the Dome is the story of Chester's Mill, a small, unexceptional Maine village. Unexceptional, that is, until one morning when an impenetrable dome, in the exact shape of the village's dimensions, suddenly isolates the village from the rest of the world. Although minute amounts of oxygen and water penetrate the dome, even a cruise missile can't break through.

King combines Lord of the Flies with Babbit as Jim Rennie, the owner of local used car lot and the town's second selectman, sees the dome as an opportunity to consolidate his control of Chester's Mill and eliminate the traces of his criminal enterprise. Rennie, who urges his stooges to fall to their knees and join him in prayer, has corrupted numerous townspeople, including his own pastor, through the wealth generated by what may well be the largest meth lab in America.

Rennie's rapacity is offset by the crusading publisher of the local weekly newspaper and a former military veteran, who is seconds from leaving town when the dome comes down.

All of this is fairly straight forward, until King adds his unique touch by mixing in his traditional brand of horror and science fiction. The children of Chester's Mill emerge from convulsive spells with dire warnings concerning Halloween. And, as for the dome, it's not the product of any earthly science. That's all I say about it's sources. If you plan to read Under the Dome, you'll want to discover it's true nature for yourself. And if you aren't going to read it, you don't care.

King's no stylist, but, as mentioned earlier, he's a superb storyteller, mixing popular culture with elements of horror and sci fi to deliver a satisfying read.

(I was delighted to see King make reference to Lee Child's Jack Reacher in Under the Dome. A nice tip of the cap to a terrific series.)

Book 114: Dangerous Laughter by Steven Millhauser

Dangerous Laughter is a collection of bizarre stories: a high school boy who conducts a summer romance with a school friend's sister entirely within the confines of a darkened room; domes that fit entirely over houses, but soon grow larger and larger; a group of teenagers that virtually torture one another with laughter.

Millhauser is a stylish writer, but his stories will not be to everyone's taste. Certainly, they were not to mine.

The Baseball Codes delivers

2011-10-28T09:48:00.000-04:00

Book 113: The Baseball Codes by Jason Turbow w/Michael Duca

The 2011 major league baseball season ends tonight with a World Serious title for either the Texas Rangers or the St. Louis Cardinals.

The season ends for MLB, but it doesn't have to end for the baseball fan. There is an entire lineup of baseball books begging to be read during the winter months. The Baseball Codes by Jason Turbow (with Michael Duca) is one of the all-stars in that lineup.

Like all professional sports, baseball has a fat rule book to control the action on and off the field. Unlike other professional sports, baseball also has an unwritten rules that have as much influence on the game as the rules presided over by the Commissioner.

In one lively anecdote after another, Turbow provides the reader with a guided tour of the unwritten rules of the game -- from running into the catcher to stealing base, from sliding properly to never -- ever -- showing up an opponent to perhaps the biggest unwritten rule of them -- cheating is OK, until you get caught.

Most baseball books are biographies of a player, capture a special season or series or are an expose of the game. No one's ever written a book quite like The Baseball Codes. It's inside baseball at it's best.

Twenty-five years later, White Noise still teems with power, mordant humor

2011-10-27T14:28:00.000-04:00

Book 112: White Noise by Don DeLillo

The shape of our fears has changed since Don DeLillo wrote White Noise in 1985.

In DeLillo’s mordant, prize-winning (National Book Award), post-modern novel our fears take amorphous shape: in an “airborne toxic event” created by a chemical spill, in waves and radiation, in the background noise of our daily lives, in experimental drugs, in the unknown expressed by noxious smells and men in Mylex suits.

Today, our fears are no less threatening, but more concrete: planes fall from the sky, pulling down buildings, forcing people to choose between leaping to their death or dying in a crush of concrete and steel; in removing our shoes before we can board an aircraft because of the threat of shoe bombs; in the chilling, perplexing phrase “home-grown terrorist” and the mythical promise of WMDs.

Bluetooth. Wi-Fi. Tablets. Smart phones.

What would White Noise look like if it were written today, 10 years after 9/11 rather than 16 years before that nation-transforming day?

So many changes since the 26 years when White Noise first appeared. The cultural context has shifted, yet DeLillo’s novel remains powerful – and powerfully amusing – because the fears DeLillo taps into have not changed.

NSA. TSA. U.S. Cyber Command. CSS.

White Noise is the story of the Gladney family. Jack is a professor at The-College-on-the-Hill, where he is a pioneer in the field of Hitler Studies. Married five times to four women, Jack and his current wife, Babette, are parents to a brood of children and step-children.

After toxic chemicals spew into the air following an accident in the train yard, the Gladneys must flee their home, although Jack resists. "These things happen to poor people who live in exposed areas," Jacks tells his family. "Society is set up in such a way that it's the poor and uneducated who suffer the main impact of natural and man-made disasters . . . I'm a college professor."

Jack is briefly exposed to the chemical cloud and assured by some nameless man with a computer that he is dying.

Erectile dysfunction. Viagra. Cialis.

Both Jack and Babette share an extreme fear of dying. Her fear leads Babette to search out chemical solace through an experimental drug. She confesses to Jack that her in desire to obtain the drug, which promises to free her from her fear of death, that she engaged in a month-long tryst with the drug's designer. Her confession leads Jack down dark roads.

On the surface, DeLillo explores our fear of death and dying. But a closer look reveals DeLillo is examining our fear of life and living. The threats to our existence – then and now -- are so pervasive, so unfamiliar and impossible to defend against , that death takes on a certain appeal.

Google. Facebook. Twitter. Wikipedia. Dropbox.

The humor in White Noise is the darkest shade of black. Some of the richest moments are when the Gladneys are all together (inevitably in their car) and engage in a serious, but uninformed discussions. Discussions that a smart phone, Google and Wikipedia would stop before they started today.

Authors have been known to re-visit their creations. I can’t think of another author whose take on modern times I’d like to read quite as much as DeLillo.

DeLillo’s mordant, knowing voice perfectly captured the world of 1985. It seems suited for our times too.

* * * * *

The completion of White Noise brings me near the end of the Internet reading challenge issued by The Roof Beam Reader. The 2011 TBR (To Be Read) Pile Challenge is to read 12 books from your to-be-read pile in 12 months. The challenge began in February, so I am in good position with a few months remaining.

I have started Mr. King's Under the Dome. It's fat book, but once it's finished I will have only two books remaining:

~~1. Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry~~
~~2. Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell~~
3. War and Peace by Mr. Tolstoy
~~4. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling~~
~~5. The Darkness That Comes Before by R. Scott Bakker~~
6. Under the Dome by Stephen King
~~7. White Noise by Don Delillo~~
~~8. Yogi Berra Eternal Yankee by Allen Barra~~
~~9. The Welsh Girl by Peter Ho Davies~~
~~10. Winter in the Blood by James Welch~~
~~11. Human Croquet by Kate Atkinson~~
12. Emotionally Weird by Kate Atkinson

Alternates:
Reservation Road by John Burnham Schwartz
Tales of Burning Love by Louise Erdrich

Millard weaves a rich tale of murder and madness in Destiny of the Republic

2011-10-21T14:52:00.000-04:00

Book 111: Destiny of the Republic by Candice Millard

It's an almost impossible task for a writer to create and sustain narrative tension when the reader already knows how the story is resolved.

Impossible for most, perhaps, but not Candice Millard.

Her first history, the riveting The River of Doubt, chronicled Teddy Roosevelt's arduous journey down an uncharted Amazon river. Students of history knew Roosevelt survived the journey, yet Millard had the reader hanging on every sentence.

Teddy's survival was known, but just how narrow his escape from death wasn't. Through Millard's vivid prose, the reader was able to understand the extent of Roosevelt's courage and tenacity, and just how closely he came to death.

Millard once more fashions familiar material into a gripping tale in her new history, Destiny of the Republic, an account of the assassination of President James Garfield.

Packed into less than 300 pages, Destiny of the Republic ranges from Garfield's reluctant nomination as the Republican candidate for president in 1880 to his election and subsequent assassination to his brave, but futile fight for life.

Garfield's foil is his assassin Charles Guiteau, a frustrated office-seeker who is convinced that God wants him to kill the president and that Americans will proclaim him a hero for gunning down Garfield in cold blood. Guiteau anticipates that both fame and fortune will be his.

Garfield and Guiteau are not the only figures who step from the pages in vivid relief in Millard's fine account. Inventor Alexander Graham Bell and British surgeon Joseph Lister have cameo roles whose importance far outweighs their brief appearance in these pages.

Millard illustrates how Garfield's assassination changed the course of the lives of Vice President Chester Arthur and D.C. physician Willard Bliss -- one for good, the other's reputation tarnished forever.

Arthur was an ally of Garfield's most implacable political opponent, New York Senator Roscoe Conkling. Many Americans briefly believed that Arthur and Conkling conspired with Guiteau to assassinate the president. Many more were concerned that Arthur, who had never held elective office prior to the vice presidency, would be Conkling's puppet once he ascended to the presidency.

But Athur, grief-stricken by Garfield's death, emerged as his own man. He shook off Conkling's control and honored Garfield's legacy during his single term in office.

Bliss joins Guiteau as the villain of this sad tale. He emerges as an insecure man more concerned for his reputation than in saving the president's life.

And it is that story, the stubborn ignorance and arrogance of the medical community, which doomed Garfield quite as much as Guiteau's bullets, that makes for the most interesting, yet dismaying, part of Millard's book.

Left untreated, it is likely Garfield would have survived. Instead, Bliss and other medical men probed his wound with their unsanitary fingers and medical utensils. When he died, Garfield's body was riddled with infection.

As Millard illustrates, Garfield died, not from the wounds he received from an assassin's bullets, but from the treatment he received after being shot. In his trial, in his own defense, Guiteau argued that Garfield was not fatally shot, but died from malpractice. True, perhaps, although it did not persuade the jury that convicted Guiteau and ordered him hung.

As one would expect from a political history, there is also a political debate, concerning the spoils system, woven through the Destiny of the Republic. The fate of that issue, which contributed to Guiteau's motives, was resolved soon after Garfield's death.

Admittedly, Millard has rich material to work with in telling what the book's sub-title proclaims is a tale of "madness, medicine and murder." Yet it is also clear that the author is richly talented.

And that she knows how to tell a story.

Katrina lacks power in Salvage the Bones

2011-10-20T15:11:00.000-04:00

Book 110: Salvage the Bones by Jesmyn Ward

Jesmyn Ward's Salvage the Bones, a story of a poor black family in Mississippi, builds toward two climatic moments -- a dog fight and a hurricane.

The story is able to support one of those moments, while the other slips away along with the novel's promise.

Unfortunately, it's the dog fight that emerges as the most powerful and telling moment of this ambitious novel. It's the narrative high point of the novel and all that follows, including the impact of Hurricane Katrina is anticlimactic.

Katrina arrives late and leaves quickly. The family's escape from rising flood waters reads like a cheap adventure novel and the family responds to the wake of Katrina'ss devastation as if it were the newest ride at a Disney theme park.

Salvage the Bones is told through the eyes of 15-year-old Esch, the only girl in this family of five. Mom died years earlier give birth to the youngest child, Junior. Dad is a distant figure, earning the occasional buck on a rare odd job. Most of the money he makes is spent on alcohol.

Esch has two older brothers. Randall's trying to find a way out of poverty via basketball. Skeetah is absorbed with his pit bull, China, who whelps a litter of pups as the novel opens. Those pups represent the promise of a huge payday for Skeetah -- if they can survive all the forces bent on their destruction.

Skeetah and China form the most compelling story in the novel. The hurricane looms in the background, building in power over the Gulf of Mexico. The father attempts to prepare for its arrival, boarding up the windows of their home, hoarding water, stashing food, but the four children give it little thought.

Esch is concerned -- rightly -- with her newly discovered pregnancy. Randall with a bad knee and paying for basketball camp. Skeetah with China's poor response to medication and an effort to poach one of the pups.

The children's effort to survive from day to day invests the novel with dignity and power that the storm leaches away. One element that never rings true is Esch's focus on the story of Jason and Medea. She's reading, we're told, a book on mythology and see parallels with Medea in her own life.

It's difficult to ever accept this line of thought by Esch. What 15-year-old, black or white, rich or poor, is absorbed with ancient Greek myth? Not many.

Esch's preoccupation with mythology ultimately emerges as an authorial device. Through Esch, Ward characterizes Katrina "as the mother that swept into the Gulf and slaughtered. Her chariot was a storm so great and black the Greeks would say it was harnessed to dragons. She was the murderous mother who cut us to the bone . . . "

It feels false. Overwriting and overreaching by an author rather than a characterization that rings true.

Salvage the Bones might have succeeded with only one story, either the dog or the hurricane. Pick one and tell it. But the two stories throw the narrative off balance with the result that neither quite works.

The Art of Fielding a book of rare generosity, insight and skill

2011-10-16T14:54:00.000-04:00

Book 108: The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach

One hundred and seven books preceded The Art of Fielding in 2011. One hundred and seven books of various quality, interest and appeal, yet none so luminous or evocative as this extraordinary first novel by Chad Harbach.

Set in Westish College, a small, liberal arts institution nestled along the shores of Lake Michigan in Wisconsin, The Art of Fielding is the story of five intrepid individuals' search for perfection -- in love and life, in one another and on the Elysian fields of the baseball diamond.

Chief among them is Henry Skrimshander, a quiet, self-effacing student, who truly becomes larger than life when he steps onto the baseball field. A shortstop of unassuming proportions, Henry is the rare athlete who brings elegance and intelligence to his craft.

Henry's own drive for excellence is a given a boost by Mike Schwartz. Catcher and team captain for the Westish Harpooners, Schwartz is Henry's friend, mentor and coach -- although an admittedly reluctant one:

"That was why he didn't want to go into coaching . . . He already knew he could coach. All you had to do was look at each of your players and ask yourself: What story does this guy wish someone would tell him about himself. And then you told the guy that story. You told it with a hint of doom. You included his flaws. You emphasized the obstacles that could prevent him from succeeding. That was what made the story epic: the player, the hero, had to suffer mightily en route to his final triumph . Schwartz knew that people loved to suffer as long as the suffering made sense."

Initially, Henry's suffering takes a simple form -- his willingness to endure one punishing workout after another, day after day, season after season, in the pursuit of the perfect and a championship season. But Henry's suffering soon ceases to make sense. The failure to grip the ball just so, a quirky breeze from off shore and Henry throws the ball beyond the reach of the first baseman. It sails into the dug-out and strikes Henry's roommate, Owen, full in the face.

Owens survives the encounter, Henry barely. His streak of error-less games vanishes as Henry is suddenly unable to throw the ball with accuracy or confidence.

Schwartz, Owen, Westish President Guert Affenlight and Guert's daughter, Pella, all undergo their own unique forms of suffering. It is as if Henry's errant throw has unstitched the bonds that holds their lives together. Now, all that remains is to see if their suffering -- and they are suffering mightily -- can lead to triumph.

The Art of Fielding is baseball as a metaphor for life, but it would be wrong to dismiss it as only that. Harbach has written a book of rare generosity, insight and skill. The characters are vivid and in the course of 500 pages we come to care for them deeply. The narrative arc is as beautiful as a well-thrown baseball -- the novel ends as it begins with Schwartz and Henry together on the baseball diamond.

And the themes that emerge -- the value of suffering in our lives, the need to strive for perfection, the importance of friendship and love -- tell a story as eloquent and as complete as that most elusive no-hitter.

Book 109: Luka and the Fire of Life by Salman Rushdie

In Luka and the Fire of Life, Salman Rushdie joins the family of notable authors who have tried their hand at juvenile fiction.

It is a clumsy and disappointing for such an accomplished writer.

Luka's father is dying. The 12-year-old enters the Magic World to steal the fire of life, which will restore his father's health.

Rushdie's Magic World is a mish-mash of old gods, legends and myths that will be lost on most of the book's young readers. In a futile effort to appeal to those same readers, Luka's quest is presented as a video game. Soon after entering the Magic World, Luka discovers that he can accumulate hundreds of lives and that he can "save" stages of his progress.

That overlay -- of a video game -- feels as if Rushdie did not have confidence in his main story. That lack of assurance is justified, but the author's effort to modernize the quest fails too.

Just My Type is, well, just my type

2011-10-15T13:01:00.001-04:00

Book 103: Just My Type by Simon Garfield

If you have a favorite typeface -- and I do -- than Simon Garfield's Just My Type, subtitled A Book About Fonts, is the book for you.

If you don't have a favorite typeface, you might after reading Garfield's book. It's a fascinating look at how fonts are created, their importance in everything from branding products to signage and their recent proliferation due to the emergence of the home computer.

No surprise that the brilliant Steve Jobs and his first Macintosh computer make a cameo appearance in the introduction. That Macintosh, loaded with a choice of fonts, "was the beginning of something," Garfield writes, "a seismic shift in our everyday relationship with letters and with type. An innovation that, within another decade or so, would place the word 'font' . . . in the vocabulary of every computer user."

My favorite font is Palatino, a serif typeface designed by Herman Zapf. Release in 1948, Palatino is prized for its legibility and is one of the 10 most widely used serif typefaces. Zapf also later created Zapf Dingbats -- and who hasn't found a use that font?

Book 107: Stan Musial An American Life by George Vecsey

Stan Musial, one of the greatest ballplayers in the history of the game, deserves better than this disappointing biography by George Vecsey.

It feels as if Vecsey collected a few anecdotes, assembled them in chronological order and -- Voila! -- a biography of Musial.

Yes, some of the anecdotes are entertaining. Very much so. Baseball anecdotes have that attribute about them. But this book simply doesn't compare with the fine biographies of Yogi Berra and Roger Maris that emerged last year.

Supergods disappoints

2011-10-14T17:28:00.000-04:00

Book 101: Supergods by Grant Morrison

For this kid who has devoured comic books for the best part of six decades, contemplating Grant Morrison's survey of the history of comics was like the promise of a hot bath after a long run.

The trouble is sooner or later the bath water always cools.

Supergods is launched faster than a speeding bullet as Morrison opens with the creation of the sun god, Superman, and four chapters that comprise a brilliant exposition on the Golden Age of Comics.

The Silver Age, which is where I enter the picture, follows in equally brilliant fashion. Morrison serves up Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko, the Fantastic Four and Spider-man. Marvel madness grips the world of comics, and it's never the same again.

(In the interest of disclosure: I am a Marvel fan. Make Mine Marvel. It's clobbering time. etc. etc. etc.)

It's in the final two sections -- The Dark Age and The Renaissance -- that the book falters. What began as an astute history of the comic books becomes Morrison's personal story.

Some overlap between the two is expected -- Morrison is a towering figure in the industry today, but an unpleasant smugness filters through the book in the final half. Morrison begins to channel Dire Straits (money for nothing and chicks for free.)

That's bad enough, but what had been a balanced and thoughtful approach to comics goes a bubble off level as Morrison contemplates his peers. Morrison isn't a great fan of Alan Moore's The Watchmen. (For what it's worth -- neither am I.). He's willing to acknowledge the impact Moore's had on comics, but that's about as much as he'll concede. Frankly, he's a bit pissy about Moore's success.

Some of us feel that way about Morrison. I didn't like his work on the Justice League or Batman & Robin. I thought it a bit overrated. WE3 was clever, but I'm starting to realize that it's the work of illustrator Frank Quitely, not Morrison's writing, that draws me in.

Back to Supergods. It's OK. Only that. Starts strong, but tapers off.

In the current parlance of comics, Morrison is no meta-human.

The Sense of an Ending a haunting, beautiful novel

2011-10-09T15:42:00.000-04:00

Book 98: The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes

Like an aging welterweight, The Sense of an Ending is lean, slow of foot, but scrappy, hanging around until author Julian Barnes can deliver one final devastating punch for the knock-out.

Shortlisted for the 2011 Booker Prize, The Sense of an Ending begins with Tony Webster recalling his school days when Tony and his two pals are joined by Adrian Finn, "a tall, shy boy who initially kept his eyes down and his mind to himself" and who the fulcrum of this slim novel.

Adrian is the kind of boy all the others want to be like. Self-possessed and clearly smarter than his mates he seems destined for certain success.

In university, Adrian begins dating Tony's former girlfriend. Later, Tony learns that Adrian has killed himself.

Tony marries, has one child -- a daughter -- and later divorces his wife, although they remain friends. Tony leads an altogether bland existence. He goes to great lengths to avoid the upsets common to most lives. He is smugly proud of his ability to live a life that is comfortable, yet also free of any meaningful relationship.

Tony's comfort is disrupted when he receives an unusual bequest -- a gift of money from his former girlfriend's mother and Adrian's diary. The money is quickly paid, but the girl friend, now a dour woman, withholds the diary and later burns it.

Tony is determined to unravel this minor mystery. Why did a woman whom he'd met only once leave him a small gift of money on her death? What was in the diary? Why did Adrian take his life?

Tony makes several guesses, all of them wrong. The answers, which Barnes skillfully withholds until the pages -- are unexpected and powerful. The impact lingers long. For Tony. For the reader.

As Barnes writes in the closing of this haunting, yet beautiful novel:

"You get towards the end of life . . . There is accumulation. There is responsibility. And beyond these, there is unrest. There is great unrest."

Two mystery writers deliver gripping tales, one falters

2011-10-07T15:13:00.000-04:00

Peter Robinson, Steve Hamilton and Lee Child -- three great mystery writers, but one of them let me down.

Book 102: Before the Poison by Peter Robinson

A few pages into Robinson's newest mystery, Before the Poison, and I was waiting for DCI Banks to take the stage. He never did.

Ultimately, I realized Robinson's new book is not a part of the Inspector Banks series, but a one-off.

Chris Lowndes composes musical scores for movies. After the death of his beloved wife, he's flees L.A. for a remote estate in his native England. He soon learns that the large house he purchased has a history.

Fifty odd years ago, on a snowy night, the local doctor died in the house. At first it appeared to be a massive heart attack, but suspicions were raised, leading police to believe the doctor was murdered by his wife. She was convicted and hung.

The solitary Lowndes hears things go bump in the night. Then he starts to see things.

Now it appears Robinson has written a ghost story. But it doesn't take many pages to realize the book that isn't an Inspector Banks mystery, isn't not ghost story either. And that's the problem with Before the Poison. It's not much of a mystery.

Lowndes sets out to prove that the doctor's wife is innocent. Innocent or guilty there's nothing at stake here. She's long dead, and any evidence long-vanished. There's no ghost to exorcise and nothing, absolutely nothing, riding on the outcome.

It's unusual to encounter such a disappointing effort from Robinson. I've often felt his long-running Inspector Banks series was the equal to the work of Ian Rankin. But Before the Poison doesn't come up to par. Both Lowndes and Robinson would have been better off leaving this mystery unsolved.

Book 105: The Hunting Wind by Steve Hamilton

Each book by Hamilton in his Alex McKnight series is better than the last. In the case of The Hunting Wind, the first McKnight mystery not in the Upper Peninsula -- this one's set in the Lower Peninsula -- it all starts with the first sentence:

"When the left-hander found me, I was sitting in my usual chair in front of the fire, trying to stay warm."

The left-hander and McKnight haven't seen one another in some 30 years when they were teammates in the minor leagues. The left-hander was a pitcher with a trick pitch and McKnight was his catcher.

Now, 30 years later, the left-hander needs McKnight's help again. He spins a story of a search for a long lost love. Of course, his tale tends to be as unreliable as his pitch once was and McKnight is caught up in a deadly mystery.

The pitcher may not deliver, but Hamilton does.

Book 106: The Affair by Lee Child

A few books ago I thought Lee Child might have jumped the shark. His Jack Reacher series just didn't have the spark that characterized a dozen earlier efforts.

Boy, was I wrong.

The Affair is vintage Lee Child. Vintage Reacher. Not only for the quality of this altogether gripping thriller, but it's set in 1997. Reacher's still part of the U.S. Army and dispatched to a military outpost in Mississippi after a women is murdered.

It's not the only murder. There were others. In his efforts to solve the murders, Reacher is caught between the military, who are convinced the murders are the work of a local, and the local sheriff, who is convinced the murders were the work of a solider.

Did I mention the local sheriff is a retired Marine, and that she's hot?

No one writes quite like Lee Child and no one has a character quite like Reacher. Unique -- that's the word to describe this series and this book. Also, fast-paced, gripping and fun. Jumped the shark, my ass.

A story started in Reservation Road concludes in Northwest Corner

2011-09-30T16:14:00.000-04:00

Book 97: Reservation Road by John Burnham Schwartz

Book 104: Northwest Corner by John Burnham Schwartz

Guilt, not grief, is the emotion that runs through John Burnham Schwartz's story of a 10-year-old boy who is struck and killed by a hit and run driver.

It is not only the driver of the car who experiences guilt, but the dead boy's father and mother and little sister. Each one is imprisoned by a mantra of "if only."

If only I had not had to pee. If only I had ordered him away from the highway. If only . . . It is a sad and isolating refrain that rings true, yet is truly false. We cannot know if the smallest change in behavior by a member of Josh Learner's family on that summer evening could have saved him.

That might have made an interesting story, but it is not the one Schwartz chose to write. Instead, equally engrossing, is his account of how guilt fractures the lives, marriages, careers and relationships of those near to Josh's unfortunate death; not only the Learner family, but Dwight Arno, who was driving the car that struck Josh.

We see the slow dissolution of the Learner marriage. The couple is buried so deeply in their individual grief and guilt that they are unable to find solace in one another. Already divorced when we meet him, Dwight Arno is a dissolute man whose life, already fraying at the edges, now unravels entirely.

Saddest of all is the impact on the Learner's daughter, Emily, and Dwight's son, Sam. It is as if three children died that night.

Unable to comfort themselves, there is no chance that the Learners can comfort Emily. The reader hopes that she is the light that will lead them away from their despond. If you can't shake your grief on your own do it for Emily. Instead, they grow increasingly remote.

Between his fear of losing his son and his violent responses, Dwight steadily pushes Sam away.

Some of the questions unanswered in Reservation Road are resolved in Northwest Corner, which revisits the characters 12 years later. (Real time and fictional time are almost identical. Reservation Road was released in 1998. Northwest Corner appears in the bookstores 13 years later.)

The story focuses largely on the Arnos. Sam, about to graduate college in Connecticut, unexpectedly shows up on his father's doorstep in California. He has been involved in a bar fight. His assailant, another student, is near death in a local hospital.

Dwight's life is back on track, following a brief prison sentence. Sam's sudden reappearance in his life is welcome, yet threatens to undermine the shaky foundation on which Dwight's life rests.

Has the violence Dwight exhibited during Sam's childhood tainted the boy's entire life? How do Dwight and Sam bridge a gulf created by distance, lies, prison and violence? Will Sam be just another victim of that summer night when Josh Learner died and Dwight Arno fled in confusion and fear?

To answer these questions would be to deny the reader the pleasure of discovering the answers for himself. It is enough to say that the story which started in Reservation Road with a violent death concludes in Northwest Corner with promise and a kiss.

Homicide Survivors Picnic a noteworthy story collection

2011-09-23T15:57:00.000-04:00

Two story collections; one I can recommend and one I cannot.

Book 94: Not the End of the World by Kate Atkinson

The one I cannot recommend, and it pains me to say this, is by Kate Atkinson. I'm something of a fanboy of Ms. Atkinson. This collection of stories, released in 2002, comes almost exactly midway between several very fine novels.

Atkinson's skill with the long form does not translate to the short story. Oh, there's a couple of stories worth reading here, but only a couple.

The exquisite work in miniature exhibited by the best practitioners of the short story (Alice Munro and William Trevor come to mind) is simply missing from the dozen stories assembled here.

Book 100: Homicide Survivors Picnic by Lorraine M. Lopez

This story collection from Lorraine Lopez was shortlisted for the 2010 PEN/Faulkner Award for fiction.

Facing strong competition from Sherman Alexie (War Dances), Lorrie Moore (A Gate at the Stairs) and Barbara Kingsolver (The Lacuna), it didn't win. Alexie won the prize. He'd win about any competition that I juried.

Still, I'd place Lopez's work squarely in the middle of the five shortlisted titles. Behind Alexie and Kingsolver, ahead of Moore and Colson Whitehead (Sag Harbor).

Lopez is an observant writer, who must have a stint as a social worker in her background. Many of the stories, including the title piece, Batterers and Human Services, are drawn from that milieu.

The stories are sympathetic and knowing, yet the characters' excuses and rationalizations don't give them a free pass. The reader is able to hold them to account as a result of Lopez's insight and intelligence. Through the candid lens of her writing we know the characters better than they know themselves.

Newest books by Pelecanos and Penny reflect care and craftsmanship

2011-09-21T10:32:00.000-04:00

Little wonder that the mystery genre is so wildly popular. It's a big house with accommodations for a range of styles and approaches. No better example exists than the two books below -- one a hard-boiled thriller, the other a classic mystery in the tradition of the English cozy. Both reflects the care and craftsmanship of their authors. Both are superb reads.

Book 96: The Cut by George Pelecanos

With a nod to noir, D.C. writer George Pelecanos returns to his roots in The Cut.

Pelecanos's most recent novels foundered in a high-minded bid to attain a level of moral instruction. That's gone. His new character, a veteran of "I-raq", is a man of action and moral relativism. He has no qualms about the bodies he leaves in his wake nor his mission to restore stolen drugs to a jailed dealer. Neither will the reader.

With its smooth, jazz-like dialogue, a narrative that sweeps along at breakneck pace and scenes of sudden, explosive violence, The Cut recalls Pelecanos's first four novels, commonly known as the D.C. quartet. It also demonstrates the degree that Pelecanos's work as a writer on HBO's The Wire now influences his novels through concision, focus and pace.

Pelecanos celebrates his return to hard-boiled thrillers and lays claim to his literary heritage. Within the course of the novel he gives a chin nod to Elmore Leonard (Spero's brother is teaching Leonard's Unknown Man #89 to his high school class), Daniel Woodrell and Willy Vlautin (Spero presents a love interest with copies of The Death of Sweet Mister and Lean on Pete. Are you sending a message, she asks. "Good clean writing," says Spero) and Donald Westlake (with a reference to The Hunter, written under Westlake's pseudonym Richard Stark).

He also acknowledges a couple of characters who have served him well in past thrillers -- Derek Strange and Nick Stefanos. Stefanos was the narrator of Pelecanos's first three novels. Strange was a lead character in a number of the novels that followed. These two may reappear. For now, it's enough to know that Spero "had heard tell of the man, Derek Strange, and his latest partner, a middle-aged Greek whose name he could not recall."

The Cut contains many of the stylistic touches that distinguish a novel by Pelecanos -- the street-level tour through Washington, D.C. and references to food and music. In one sense, there's nothing new to The Cut. It's simply a welcome return to the mean streets Pelecanos has traveled so artfully in the past.

Book 99: A Trick of the Light by Louise Penny

I don't know which is more absurd -- that the denouement of Louise Penny's new mystery comes on a dark and stormy night with the all the suspects assembled by a crackling fire or that it works.

Because it does work. Just as it has worked so well in her past novels. Penny embraces the elements of the traditional English cozy and then rises above those conventions with an intelligent plot and vivid characters to produce a compelling mystery.

Penny's greatest strength lies in her characters. Despite the large number of characters that populate her novels by simple necessity -- there's the homicide investigation team, the inhabitants of Three Pines and those figures we meet because of the demands of the current story -- Penny manages to give them each distinct personalities.

I cannot recall another author of a continuing series who has been as successful as Penny in telling the stories of each of her recurring characters. She works at an almost leisurely pace, introducing their back story, their passions and peccadilloes, over the course of several books. Each character gets their turn in the spotlight.

Penny's gift is to create characters the reader cares about. We cannot wait to know what happens next in their lives. What does the future hold? What events are soon to unfold in the village of Three Pines?

On several occasions in A Trick of the Light, characters observe that Three Pines isn't on any map. No matter. Any admirer of intelligent, well-written mysteries knows the way to this small Canadian village.

Closing in on TBR Pile Challenge

2011-09-11T19:19:00.000-04:00

More progress this past week in the Internet reading challenge issued by The Roof Beam Reader. I dipped into the alternates list, reading John Burnham Schwartz's Reservation Road.

The 2011 TBR (To Be Read) Pile Challenge is to read 12 books from your to-be-read pile in 12 months. The challenge began in February, so I am in good position with several months remaining.

This is where I stand:

~~1. Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry~~
~~2. Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell~~
3. War and Peace by Mr. Tolstoy
~~4. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling~~
~~5. The Darkness That Comes Before by R. Scott Bakker~~
6. Under the Dome by Stephen King
7. White Noise by Don Delillo
~~8. Yogi Berra Eternal Yankee by Allen Barra~~
~~9. The Welsh Girl by Peter Ho Davies~~
~~10. Winter in the Blood by James Welch~~
~~11. Human Croquet by Kate Atkinson~~
12. Emotionally Weird by Kate Atkinson

Alternates:
Reservation Road by John Burnham Schwartz
Tales of Burning Love by Louise Erdrich

Men dominate women in personal reading habits

2011-09-09T07:04:00.000-04:00

I could do better.

Earlier today I stumbled on the website of VIDA Women in the Literary Arts. Founded in 2009, VIDA seeks “to address the need for female writers of literature to engage in conversations regarding the critical reception of women’s creative writing in our current culture.”

Recently, they’ve been pointing out the imbalance between the sexes in publication rates in “literary” periodicals such as The Best American Short Stories, The New Yorker, The Atlantic, Harper’s and Granta.

Surprise! Men dominate women across the board.

Which led me to wonder about my reading rate. How many women authors to I read compared to men?

Surprise! Men dominate women across the board.

More than two-thirds of my reading is by male authors. In fiction, 50 books by men compared to 24 females. In non-fiction, 15 books by men and 7 by women. (A total of 96 books. Among my current reading -- two men and one woman.)

Frankly, I am surprised. I thought my reading would include more women. I like female authors. Edith Wharton, Willa Cather, Alice Munro and Margaret Atwood are among my favorite writers. I don't discriminate according to sex, at least consciously.

In my current reading, several authors, both male and female, were read more than once. In 2011, I’ve read four books by Louise Penny and two by Steve Hamilton because I’m working through their complete oeuvre.

The roster of female authors is solid. With works by Kate Atkinson (2) and Ann Patchett – again two of my favorite writers. Note – that's two of my favorite writers, not two of my favorite female writers.

There’s also Jennifer Egan, Karen Russell, Siobhan Fallon and Lee Smith. Fallon’s short story collection currently ranks as the best collection of short stories I’ve read this year. Smith’s is close behind and has the distinction of penning the funniest story I believe I have ever read.

I’m not only surprised by the dominance of men over women in my reading, but disappointed. Some of the imbalance has to do with genre fiction. I’ve read a lot sci-fi this year, but only one book in that genre by a woman – Sherri Tepper. Yet she’s not the only female sci-fi writer.

I read a lot of mysteries too – Michael Connelly, Robert Crais, George Pelecanos, but there’s also Louise Penny, Laura Lippman and Jan Burke. Still, more men than women.

My survey won’t change my reading habits immediately. The truth is I rarely consider whether a certain book is written by a man or woman.

Maybe it’s time that changed.

Four books yet to be read in reading challenge

2011-09-04T16:47:00.000-04:00

In the final four months of 2011, I have only four books left to read in the Internet reading challenge issued by The Roof Beam Reader.

The 2011 TBR (To Be Read) Pile Challenge is to read 12 books from your to-be-read pile in 12 months. The challenge began in February, so I am in good position with several months remaining.

I start one of the alternates, John Burnham Schwartz's Reservation Road, tomorrow.

This is where I stand:

~~1. Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry~~
~~2. Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell~~
3. War and Peace by Mr. Tolstoy
~~4. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling~~
~~5. The Darkness That Comes Before by R. Scott Bakker~~
6. Under the Dome by Stephen King
7. White Noise by Don Delillo
~~8. Yogi Berra Eternal Yankee by Allen Barra~~
~~9. The Welsh Girl by Peter Ho Davies~~
~~10. Winter in the Blood by James Welch~~
~~11. Human Croquet by Kate Atkinson~~
12. Emotionally Weird by Kate Atkinson

Alternates:
Reservation Road by John Burnham Schwartz
Tales of Burning Love by Louise Erdrich

Rowling's Harry Potter isn't all that magical

2011-09-02T14:41:00.000-04:00

Book 93: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K. Rowling

Book 95: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling

I've done it. I've read them. Two books about that famous Potter boy. The one with the scar like a lightning bolt on his forehead. The one who had all those muzzy adolescents standing in line at midnight waiting for his next book to be issued. The one who starred in those movies.

O.K. Exactly what was all the excitement about?

Typical isn't it? Late to the party and now chippy about it. Would I have been so snarky if I'd stumbled on Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone when it first appeared on the shelves of the local bookstores. Admittedly, I have the benefit of hindsight, but the books aren't all that well written (there is hope that the writing improves with each successive book) and they aren't terribly original.

That lack of originality is part of the appeal. Rowling's genius is not in unveiling something entirely new, but in repackaging something old. Just as Harry stumbled on the Chamber of Secrets, she's stumbled on an ancient formula that compels 12-year-olds to read voraciously.

In these two books, and I assume throughout the series, Rowling appeals to the fantasy life of the typical adolescent. A fantasy life that has nothing to be with magic or basilisks, flying cars or Sorting Hats, but everything to do with the perception that NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME, NO ONE APPRECIATES ME, and NO ONE KNOWS HOW REALLY, REALLY SPECIAL I AM.

Here's two things I think Rowling got spot on:

1. Potter's an orphan. Brilliant. He lives with a family of Muggles -- the sobriquet for us non-magical sort -- who don't like him, who don't recognize there's anything special about him and who won't let him exercise his special gifts i.e. talking to snakes and other magical stuff.

Harry finds a new family, and friends, once's he packed off to Hogwarts. I cast Hagrid as the mother and Dumbledore as the father.

Think about it. What's the first thing Hagrid does after meeting Harry? He takes him shopping for school supplies. Bet, you did that with your mum. He's always quick to offer a refreshing cup of tea and bit of advice. Dumbledore is the stern, but supportive father. He know it's best if Harry learns for himself, but he's there in the background, with a vanishing cloak or a phoenix to hand, should Harry need help extricating himself from a spot of bother.

2. Anyone can develop magical powers. There are entire families with magical ability, true, but Harry's mother's parents were Muggles. The same is true for that Hermione Granger. My God! Her parents are dentists. You can't get LESS magical than that, yet she's the star pupil of Hogwarts. (I won't add a third point and get into all that suppressed sexuality that the films tap into in such marvelous fashion.)

But if anyone can develop magical powers, if a genetic line of succession isn't necessary, why I could become a powerful sorcerer. You could as well. It's all there, bubbling below the surface, especially for our typical 12-year-old who doesn't understand those strange feelings he/she is experiencing is called puberty and is not one damn bit magical.

I understand that down the line the books in the Potter series grow fatter and darker. I suppose I'll read them, but I don't feel any rush (that might require a tidy little compulsion spell, I suppose) now that I've satisifed my curiousity.

One aisde: The Guardian (a Brit newspaper) recently conducted a poll to see who was the favorite Harry Potter character. The winner was Severus Snape. Hermione was second and Harry was fourth -- a distant fourth.

Two thoughts on the poll: Harry is a rather innocuous character, which I think is by design. The less well drawn he is, the easier it is for our 12-year-old audience to identify with him. He's an everyman. We can all wear Harry's cloak.

The second thought is that the vote was driven more by the movies than the book. In the movies, with his sneer and upturned brow, Alan Rickman is superb as Snape. He makes the character come alive. Snape's rather one dimensional in the books (at least these first two). He doesn't like Harry and he's the source of suspicious when anything nasty happens. Convenient that.

Chernow's Washington a fat, but fine biography

2011-08-31T14:55:00.000-04:00

Book 92: Washington by Ron Chernow

The writing is serviceable, the research impeccable and the portrayal of the man, who even in his lifetime was proclaimed "The Father of His Country," is balanced.

And its title is the smallest thing about Washington, Ron Chernow's biography of George Washington. This book is fat.

As these things go, it's not morbidly obese. There's 817 pages of text. With notes, bibliography, index and other addendum the entire book stretches to 904 pages. And it's a single volume, not three.

Still, it felt as if it took as long just to read Chernow's lengthy section on Washington leadership during the Revolutionary War as it did for that first wrangle with the British to play out. (Nine years if you've forgotten your high school civics.)

In a brisk 294 pages, David McCullough gives us a lively -- and sufficient -- account of one critical year in the war in his 2005 history 1776. James MacGregor Burns and Susan Dunn neatly summarize Washington's entire presidency in fewer than 160 pages in George Washington -- their entry in the uniformly stellar American Presidents Series by Times Books.

Such comparisons are not entirely fair, or apt. Chernow is furnishing us with an updated biography of the entire life of Gen. George, while McCullough, Burns and Dunn are providing us with snapshots. Yet the problems inherent in such a lengthy work remain, and that is the author's tendency to include material that is extraneous and to be repetitive.

Do we really need to know in whose home George stayed during a certain winter of the war? Let me answer that -- it's on a need to know basis and no one needs to know.

Chernow tends to repeat certain points that he wants to make. He's like the proverbial Chicago voter who goes to the polls early and often. Themes that are repeated include Washington's bad teeth, his icy reserve that hides a violent temper and a sentimental streak, his flirtations that came up to the line but never crossed it (as far as we know, let it be understood: George liked the ladies) and George's profligate spending. (He also liked nice stuff.)

On a positive note, Chernow, who also wrote a fine and fat biography of Alexander Hamilton in 2004, knows this cast of characters especially well. He is adept at helping us understand the tempestuous relationships between George, Hamilton, John Adams, Jefferson and Madison.

He makes the political struggle between the Federalists and Republicans vivid and current, and neatly explains many of the heated issues of the day from Citizen Genet to Shay's Rebellion to Washington's distrust of political parties.

Chernow's Washington is a solid biography and a worthy read. It all comes down to a reader's willingness to devote a considerable chunk of time to one book.

Cornwell stumbles with The Fort

2011-08-28T13:23:00.000-04:00

Book 91: The Fort by Bernard Cornwell

I thoroughly enjoy Cornwell's Saxon Series and Agincourt was a treat, but The Fort fails to rise to the standards of those books.

Perhaps it the particular slice of Revolutionary War history that Cornwell chooses to recount -- a rather dreary standoff between British troops and Massachusetts militia.

Known as the Penobscot Expedition, the militia, accompanied by an impressive fleet of ships from the Continental Navy, attempt to seize Fort George from the British. The doughty Brits are out-numbered and initially the fort is virtually indefensible, which would seem to promise a quick American victory.

Victory is in the offing when the Americans quickly gain control of the high ground and are poised to charge the fort. But the American leader of the campaign falters and the quick victory promptly turns into an extended stalemate.

The Americans are riven by dissension and poor leadership. They never do seize the fort. Instead, additional British ships arrive and the Penobscot Expedition becomes the worst naval disaster in U.S. history until Pearl Harbor.

The most interesting aspect of The Fort is Cornwell's portrayal of Paul Revere. We know of Revere as a brave patriot largely, Cornwell points out in the book's historical notes, due to Longfellow's inaccurate poem. Cornwell depicts Revere as a difficult man, who blithely ignored orders from his superiors, and who may have been both a thief and a coward.

It may be that Cornwell's more at home with swords and long bows than muskets, but The Fort is a disappointing effort from this master of historical fiction.

Hamilton's Winter of the Wolf Moon a rewarding thriller

2011-08-24T10:21:00.000-04:00

Book 89: Winter of the Wolf Moon by Steve Hamilton

I've now read three books by Steve Hamilton -- the first two entries in his Alex McKnight series and his one-off, The Lock Artist -- and I will admit that I am an unabashed fan.

The setting, the characters, the plots and his fast-moving narratives make Hamilton's thrillers a pleasure to read. But, perhaps, the best element of the McKnight series -- set in Michigan's Upper Peninsula -- is the humor.

Hamilton's use of humor reminds me of Robert Crais. Humor is largely absent from many thrillers. You won't find it in the writing of Michael Connelly or Ian Rankin. Not to knock them, I thoroughly enjoy their work.

But Hamilton, like Crais, brings a certain attitude to his novels that seems to say "this isn't rocket science or literary fiction, let's have some fun." Hamilton's world view is a bubble off center. He's enjoying himself and wants the reader to do so too.

Book 90: Disturbance by Jan Burke

I've also been a fan of Jan Burke's Irene Kelly series. As a former newspaper reporter and editor, I've enjoyed Kelly's newsroom antics at the Las Piernas News Express. But with Disturbance I'm beginning to have my doubts about the continuing viability of the series.

This is Burke's first Irene Kelly novel in five years. In between was the awful, The Messenger, which appears to have been Burke's effort to tap into the hunger for supernatural thrillers among a sizable population of readers.

The Messenger didn't work and I can only hope that Burke doesn't venture into that territory again.

Yet Burke's commitment to the Irene Kelly series seems lacking. Disturbance, a sequel to Bones, just doesn't have the same oomph of her past novels. In the opening of Disturbance the serial killer, who almost dispatched Irene in Bones, is paralyzed and in prison. It isn't long before his paralysis has been miraculously cured and he escapes from prison.

But wait . . . as they say on all those late-night commercials . . . there's more. Aiding his escape and inevitable bid to kidnap Irene is a trio of admirers, who, as it happens, are the serial killer's sons. Burke observes that the killer is known for planning well in advance, but this is taking planning to the extreme.

Irene is kidnapped. It doesn't feel like a spoiler to disclose that plot point. You knew it was coming. After her kidnapping, events do unfold in a surprising, yet not particularly satisfactory, manner. Sad to say, it feels as if Burke mailed this one in.

Hadley takes the reader on a rewarding trip on The London Train

2011-08-23T08:15:00.000-04:00

Book 87: The London Train by Tessa Hadley

Two people meet on a train to London. Improbably, their chance meeting leads to a love affair. It is intense, but brief. Both are married; the man has children and makes clear that they are what's important to him.

Tessa Hadley charts the course of this affair and its effects upon the man and woman in the beautifully told, closely observed The London Train. The novel is really two novellas, one belonging to the man and one to the woman.

The woman is only mentioned in passing in the first novella, The London Train. Paul, her erstwhile lover, is reeling. His mother has just died and now he learns that his oldest daughter, from his first marriage, is missing. He later finds her living with a Polish man, safe, but pregnant.

Paul flees his rural home, leaving his current wife and two young daughters. He lives for a spell with his daughter and her lover, entertaining thoughts of an affair with a woman his daughter's age.

In the second novella, Only Children, Cora has fled London and her husband for the consolation of her childhood home. It soon becomes clear that the affair has had a more lasting, unsettling effect upon Cora than Paul.

The affair fulfilled the needs of both Paul and Cora. Paul is a sexual predator, blithely unconcerned with the impact of his cheating on his wife or Cora. Cora is unaware of her needs until Paul stirs something deep within her. Now -- hurt, confused, angry -- she withdraws from life.

Hadley has given the reader a subtle, powerful study of how one event effects two people so differently. It is honest and true and disquieting. The London Train is a challenging journey with a rewarding destination.

Book 88: All The Time In The World by E.L. Doctorow

Readers of The New Yorker will recognize many of the stories in this collection by celebrated novelist E.L. Doctorow. Seven of the 12 stories were originally published in that magazine.

It is an uneven collection. Some of the stories are superb, yet others fail to meet a reader's expectation. Liner Notes: The Songs of Billy Bathgate feels incomplete. It is as if Doctorow couldn't fit these pieces into a novel, hated to see them go unused and so here they appear.

The solution is to skip this book -- there are far better story collections on the bookstore shelves just now -- and subscribe to The New Yorker.

Stross rules, Robopocalypse falters

2011-08-21T14:27:00.000-04:00

Rule 34: Generally accepted internet rule that states that pornography or sexually related material exists for any conceivable subject. (Urban Dictionary)

Singularity: Technological singularity refers to the hypothetical future emergence of greater-than human intelligence through technological means. (Wikipedia)

Book 85: Rule 34 by Charles Stross

Book 86: Robopocalypse by Daniel H. Wilson

There's a commonality between these two novels that I'll let the reader self-identify.

Rule 34 is written by Charles Stross, a veteran science fiction writer, and Robopocalypse is by Daniel H. Wilson, who has written a handful of books, including How to Build a Robot Army and How to Survive a Robot Uprising. (Whether those previous titles are fiction or non-fiction, I don't know.)

The title, Rule 34, is a bit of misdirection from Charlie. His protagonist, Edinburgh Detective Inspector Liz Kavanaugh, heads a crime unit known as the Rule 34 Squad. But, despite the title and Liz's nominal police responsibilities, this isn't about Internet porn.

Instead, Liz is caught up in a murder investigation. Actually, she's caught up investigating multiple homicides. Several of the Edinburgh underworld are dying in bizarre fashion -- killed by seemingly harmless household appliances.

Later, Liz and her colleagues learn that the murders aren't confined to Edinburgh. Someone is killing off a passel of bad guys in innovative ways.

I could sum up Rule 34 as standard Stross fare, but if you haven't read him you wouldn't know that means an edgy, inventive thriller with a jaundiced views of how the future looks from here. It's probable enough to be disturbing, improbable enough to be deliciously disturbing.

There have been some new entries recently -- notably authors Mieville and Bacigalupi -- but Stross is still the reigning king of cool among today's crop of science fiction writers.

Straining the bounds of probability is Wilson's Robopocalypse. The comparisons to Michael Crichton on the inside flap of the dust jacket are an indication of what the reader can expect. No, in this case, Wilson's book doesn't read like a chubby movie script, but it is a breezy little read that wants so badly to be a bestseller.

A full-fledged A.I. (artificial intelligence) is loose in the world and it's pissed. It's been "killed" something like 14 times before and determined that that won't happen again. It turns its fury on humanity. Humanity wins. That's not a spoiler. Wilson furnishes the outcome in the novel's first sentence.

That does let some of the suspension out of Robopocalypse. What Wilson does, in lieu of suspense, is give us some nasty "isolated incidents" followed up zero hour, when the machines turn against mankind, followed by man's steps to survive in various locations from a major city to an Indian reservation in Oklahoma. And, finally, all out war.

We win -- the dinosaurs are herded back in their cage. Well, maybe we win. There's just a suggestion the A.I. may have survived. (Hell, it's more of an outright promise that a sequel is coming. The truth is the villain dies in these books about as often as one of Marvel's costumed heroes.)

After finishing Robopocalypse, my first thought was: "Well, it wasn't as bad as I expected." It's a quick little read. Nicely paced. But I would have liked one idea. Just one. My thoughts then went to Robert Sawyer's provocative WWW trilogy (Wake, Watch and Wonder), which dares to contemplate a benign singularity.

Conclusion: Read Rule 34. Stross is good. Very good. And if you still have an urge to read about A.I.s, turn to Robert Sawyer's fine trilogy. Now that's an idea.

Gone With The Wind an American classic

2011-08-19T16:18:00.000-04:00

Book 81: Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

I only read six books the entire month of July. The reason is that Gone With The Wind consumed half the month. This is one big ass book. My paperback copy runs to 1,448 pages.

It's not difficult to read. Mitchell has a comfortable style that invites the reader in, but there's just so much ground to cover. The novel ranges from the halcyon days prior to the war, to the war (still known in these parts as the War of Northern Aggression) and finally to the post-war Reconstruction.

It is not THE great American novel, but it is a great American novel that warrants a place alongside such classics as Huckleberry Finn and The Great Gatsby. Interesting, isn't it, how many of the books we view as American classics are about race and class.

Gone With The Wind is a flawed book. (I'm not certain there are any books I'd consider flawless.) I'll tackle Mitchell's missteps first.

The book is wildly overwritten. Mitchell would have benefited from an editor who would have trimmed this book by several hundred pages. Another alternative would have been to split it into three books. It's structure lends itself easily to a trilogy.

A better editor could have trimmed the purple prose, too. Mitchell's prose style can be too ornate, too flowery, too to much. Many of the love scenes, whether it's Scarlett and Rhett or Scarlett and Ashley are far too over-heated to be effective.

And, yes, the novel is racist. But I wouldn't change that. I think to eliminate the backward racial attitudes of the Southern planters would be to excise the heart of this novel.   How else would we understand how demeaning racism is -- for the racist and the subject of his contempt -- if these passages were not left to stand.

I understand that it is offensive and hurtful, but seems an accurate portrayal of the way of thinking once widely prevalent throughout the South. Scarlet and her peers think nothing of the stereotypes that they impose on blacks -- who are perceived as lazy, as children, as witless apes, as nothing more than an accumulation of base desires. Yet they have an affection for the blacks who live among them; affection expressed, unfortunately, through paternalism and condescension.

Gone With The Wind, published in 1936, was only a generation or two removed from the Civil War. The attitudes and beliefs that fostered the outbreak of war had not vanished by the time of the book's publication -- sadly, many of those attitudes and beliefs still exist today.

It shocking to find the Ku Klux Klan -- an evil blight on our country's history -- portrayed as a noble band of husbands merely seeking to protect the honor of Southern (white) women. We know them today as a bunch of violent, cruel men, threatened by the cultural upheavals brought about by the end of slavery, who calmed their fears by wreaking vengeance on the most vulnerable segment of Southern society -- the free black.

Yet, set against Mitchell's defense of the Klan is her all too accurate indictment of Reconstruction. One can't help but wonder how difference the post-war South might have been had Lincoln lived. He was not their worst enemy, but their best friend. Under Lincoln's leadership the South would have been invited to return to the Union with leniency and forbearance.

The most brilliant aspect of Gone With The Wind is how Mitchell uses Scarlett and Melanie to embody the South's two difference responses to Reconstruction. For Mitchell, Melanie represented the old South -- proud, noble and sacrificial. Scarlett is the new South. Driven by fears she does not understand, Scarlett will lie and cheat and willingly make unwise alliances. She may hate Northerners of every stripe, despise Carpetbaggers and Scallywags, but she never hesitates to do business with them.

It is the relationship between Scarlett and Melanie -- not between Scarlett and Rhett or Scarlett and Ashley -- that is at the heart of Mitchell's novel. It is the love between these two women -- a love Scarlett never truly recognizes until its lost -- that establishes Gone With The Wind as a great American novel.

+ + + + +

A quick update on one of my 2011 reading challenges: With the completion of Gone With The Wind I have only five of 12 books remaining in the challenge issued by The Roof Beam Reader.

The 2011 TBR (To Be Read) Pile Challenge is to read 12 books from your to-be-read pile in 12 months. The challenge began in February, so I am in good position with several months remaining.

This is where I stand:

~~1. Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry~~
~~2. Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell~~
3. War and Peace by Mr. Tolstoy
4. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling
~~5. The Darkness That Comes Before by R. Scott Bakker~~
6. Under the Dome by Stephen King
7. White Noise by Don Delillo
~~8. Yogi Berra Eternal Yankee by Allen Barra~~
~~9. The Welsh Girl by Peter Ho Davies~~
~~10. Winter in the Blood by James Welch~~
~~11. Human Croquet by Kate Atkinson~~
12. Emotionally Weird by Kate Atkinson

Alternates:
Reservation Road by John Burnham Schwartz
Tales of Burning Love by Louise Erdrich

Just another day in Paradise for Steve Hamilton

2011-08-14T18:50:00.000-04:00

Two thrillers, both from August. There's one book remaining from July, but it warrants its own post -- and that's coming soon. Here are the thrillers:

Book 82: The Dewey Decimal System by Nathan Larson

The Dewey Decimal System is an odd little mash-up -- a standard thriller with a post-apocalyptic overlay. It's notable for carrying the imprint of Akashic Books, the small New York publishing house that has produced all those Noir collections as well as Go the Fuck to Sleep.

The Dewey Decimal System is set in New York City, where a series of terrorist attacks have brought the city, and America, to edge of ruin. The protagonist, Dewey Decimal, is a hired killer who derives his names from living in the New York City Library where he's attempting to re-order the books when he's not on some lethal mission.

Dewey's got skills, as demonstrated in one scene where he guns down a couple of heavies with a bit of John Wu-inspired gunplay. But he's not certain where those skills were learned nor does he know if his memories -- spotty, at best -- are real or implanted.

The plot doesn't matter much. There's a couple of big-time heavies -- standard Eastern European mouth-breathers -- and a dasmel in distress, who may be the most deadly character we meet. Dewey has to decide where his loyalties lies.

As I said, the plot is incidental to the action-driven narrative. Don't be surprised if Dewey appears for act two (in a second book by Larson). I might pick that second book up -- then again I might not.

Book 84: A Cold Day In Paradise by Steve Hamilton

What I will pick up, and soon, is the next book by Steve Hamilton in the Alex McKnight series.

I was introduced to Hamilton with a recent one-off entitled The Lock Artist. It was good, very good. And I thought about following up on Hamilton's earlier book, but didn't until a recent vacation.

A few weeks back I drove to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan -- the Yoop -- which included an overnight in Paradise, Sault Ste. Marie (the Soo) and a visit to Whitefish Bay.

Hamilton was driving around the U.P. at the same time I was there. His McKnight series is set in Paradise, where McKnight, a former Detroit cop, has gone to nurse his wounds after he takes three bullets and his partner is killed.

A Cold Day in Paradise won both the Shamus and Edgar awards for Best First Novel. It's easy to understand why. The novel is character-driven. Starting with McKnight, Hamilton lovingly portrays a cast that could easily have been walking around the Yoop while I was there.

Setting is another Hamilton strong suite. The U.P., including Paradise and The Soo, feels like characters in the drama. I don't about other readers, but for me it's always a thrill to read about geography I've tred.

Characters and setting. Yet Hamilton doesn't neglect the plot. He depicts a plausible series of events that threaten McKnight's life. And even as he builds to a resolution there are surprises -- you know they are coming, but aren't certain what to expect -- that result in a satisfying thriller that leaves you wanting more.

Fortunately, there are more and I brought them all back with me from The Yoop. Just another day in Paradise.

Story collections from Lee Smith and Ha Jin

2011-08-13T11:48:00.000-04:00

Two short story collections, one from July, the other from August.

Book 80: Mrs. Darcy and the Blue-Eyed Stranger by Lee Smith

I stumbled upon the writing of Lee Smith by pure serendipity.

I was at the Virginia Book Festival in Charlottesville to hear Colum McCann. Smith was on the program with him. I had a copy of Let the Great World Spin that I planned to have McCann sign.

Nothing by Smith, and that made me feel badly for her. So I picked up a copy of Mrs. Darcy and the Blue-Eyed Stranger, which she signed. What the hell.

More than a year went by before I picked up the book again and started to read.

What the hell? This was good. Very good. Smith has a knack for capturing the off-beat, the oddball who views the world just a little differently than the rest of us. And she's got this sly sense of humor that creeps into most of the stories; sometimes she's laughing with the characters, sometimes she's laughing with you.

Toastmaster, about a little boy and his mother in an Italian restaurant in Florida, is one of the funniest stories that I have ever read. And it's a story that I will return to in the years ahead. It's that good.

Mrs. Darcy and the Blue-Eyed Stranger is a uniformly rich and rewarding collection of stories. I've already added two more books by Smith to my read pile. What the hell.

Book 83: A Good Fall by Ha Jin

A Good Fall by Ha Jin isn't uniformly rich and rewarding. The stories make you wonder why Jin doesn't stick with writing novels.

The stories feel clumsy and unfinished and many of them feel similar. Jin is going back over ground he's already plowed, which leaves the reading flipping back through the book thinking "wait a minute, didn't I already this story?"

There are currently some superb story collections in the bookstores. This isn't one of them.

Technically, A Visit From the Goon Squad is a great book. Technically

2011-08-12T09:18:00.000-04:00

The Snowman a conventional thriller in an unconventional setting

2011-08-08T09:38:00.000-04:00

Yes, I've been tardy. No postings for any of the books read during July or August. So let's change that . . .

Book 76: The Snowman by Jo Nesbo

A little neural clutter to dispatch before I can even think about The Snowman.

First, what is it with detectives named Harry? I mean there's Dirty Harry, made famous by craggy Clint Eastwood, and there's Michael Connelly's marvelous Harry Bosch. And now Norwegian author Jo Nesbo gives us Harry Hole.

And, yes, that's the second bit of clutter. "Harry Hole." Hairy Hole! Get it?

I'm having trouble with that one. I mean Nesbo's fictional detective is every bit the brilliant asshole the genre demands. He has issues with authority, trouble maintaining personal relationships and is an alcoholic. But to blatantly name the guy Harry Hole. Can't we let the reader reach his own conclusions.

And then I clock that Nesbo's Norwegian and that the way Hole is pronounced in Norwegian is not the way it is pronounced in English. A little bit of Google magic and we discover that it's pronounced HEU-leh. That I can live with. So, on the book.

I've been late to the party America's given for Scandinavian authors like Nesbo and Stieg Larsson. My attitude is that if I'm not ahead of the curve, I sure as hell don't want to be behind it. Case in point: I have yet to read any book with Harry Potter in the title. (And that's another damn Harry. I think I've known one Harry my entire life, so how do you account for the preponderance of Harrys in literature? I can't.)

The Snowman is creepy, and by any measure that's exactly what a reader is looking for in a Scandinavian thriller. Dark. Moody. Not just cool, but icy.

There's a serial killer on the loose. Harry sees it quickly, but no one believes him. Serial killers, like politicians from Texas, are the unique creation of America.

But Harry's instincts are spot on. A killer is on the loose and his murders -- seemingly unconnected -- are becoming increasingly gruesome. And, again in keeping with genre conventions, the killer is taunting Harry, issuing that age old invitation to find me before I kill again.

There's plenty of suspects, yet each one is eliminated as we build to the finale in which the killer's true identity is revealed . . . but not before Harry is put the supreme test.

By the time we reach this point in the book the killer's identity is all too apparent. Consequently, in a nice authorial concession, Nesbo reveals the killer and the motives behind his insane spree just as realization dawns for the reader. This clever bit of writing actually serves to ratchet up the tension, because now that we know who the killer really is we also know what's truly at stake.

The Snowman is a satisfying thriller, but not overly original. Conventions are honored. But the Scandinavian overlay makes for an interesting change of pace. I'll read Nesbo again, if for no other reason then I've gone to the trouble of nailing down the accurate pronunciation of Harry's last name.

Book 77: Rodin’s Debutante by Ward Just

Any book by Ward Just -- even one that falls short as Rodin's Debutante does -- has elements so well constructed, characters so finely drawn, that it's worth reading despite the letdown.

Rodin's Debutante revolves (briefly) around the founder of an exclusive Illinois boy's school and a student at that school who becomes a talented Chicago sculptor. The story never adds up to much, and that's the downfall of this book, which might have benefited from an additional 100 pages.

One of Just's talents is to accurately portray a certain kind of man, to reveal what motivates him and to show us how and why he lives as he does. Just is also skilled at striking a certain tone, capturing an atmosphere of elegance and restraint, that, in many cases, is as internal as it is external.

The best, and worst, that can be said about Rodin's Debutante is that it is an interesting book. Sadly, it could have been much more.

Patchett's State of Wonder a vivid novel of hope and redemption; Penn builds a case for steel and leather

2011-07-13T19:45:00.000-04:00

" . . . some people have asked, 'Will you tell us what this book is about?' I'll say, 'There's this tribe in the Amazon where the women can have children forever.' The audience gasps and recoils. Then I laugh and say, 'Yes,it's a horror novel.' "

Book 74. State of Wonder by Ann Patchett

It's always a delight when a reader's expectations and a writer's vision coincide. And, yes, that was the case for me and Ann Patchett's vibrant new novel, State of Wonder.

I've been a fan of Patchett for some time. I loved her early novels, The Magician's Assistant and The Patron Saint of Liars. Admiration for her creative talents peaked with Bel Canto, which won the 2001 PEN/Faulkner Award.

Her 2007 novel, Run, was something of a disappointment, but such a statement must carry a disclaimer. Most authors would proudly have their name on Patchett's most disappointing book. She's that good.

In State of Wonder, Patchett is flexing her literary muscles once again. Marina Singh, a Minnesota-born pharmaceutical scientist, is packed off to the Amazon on a multi-pronged mission. Her boss, who is also her lover, wants her to come back with answers from the all-too-independent doctor/scientist who is trying to isolate the chemicals that allow those Amazon women to procreate in old age.

Marina is also charged with finding out more about the death of her colleague, who was originally sent on the fact-finding mission and who died under mysterious circumstances.

Of course, it's complicated. The doctor/scientist has her own agenda. She's also Marina's former instructor. Marina was on the path to become a talented surgeon until a delivery room mishap led her to flee the program and eventually led her to become a research scientist.

Marina finds redemption and more in the Amazon jungles. It doesn't give much away to say that dismembering a snake with a machete is the least of it.

State of Wonder is a wonder. A vivid novel of hope, redemption and human tenacity. It's Patchett at her finest.

Book 75. It’s All About The Bike by Robert Penn

For me, biking will never supplant running. It's a nice substitute. A way to take some pressure off the knees and hips, spend a leisurely morning with friends and see a lot of countryside in a way you can't see running or in a car.

So, I'm not the audience for Robert Penn's account of his efforts to build his dream bike. It's All About The Bike is, well, all about the bike. It's about the hardware and, admittedly, some cyclists have a love affair with all those components.

I have this friend and biking has been very, very good to him. He's lost nearly 100 pounds because of cycling. He's read this book twice and the second time he was taking notes.

Hardcore bicycle junkies , like my friend, are going to love Robert Penn's book. And I have to admit, I liked it a lot. I was especially fascinated by his chapters on the headset and the saddle. The headset is that component that allows the front wheel to turn independently of the frame. Fifteen years or so of biking and I didn't know that. It's kind of cool.

As for the saddle (seat to you neophytes) anyone who rides 60+ miles for multiple days, as I have done, understands just how important it is. Your body has three points of contact with a bicycle -- the pedals, the handles and the seat. I can't emphasize the importance of the right saddle. To paraphrase Penn, you may hurt, but you don't need to suffer.

Penn is a stout advocate for the bicycle -- a machine that is rightfully enjoying a renaissance. He gives anyone who is thinking about assembling their own dream machine plenty to think about. Steel. Leather. Gears and Gruppo.

I'm not prepared to say it's all about the bike, but Penn makes a convincing case.

McCullough's Greater Journey an exuberant, sprawling history

2011-07-04T14:43:00.000-04:00

73. The Greater Journey by David McCullough

The Greater Journey is a sprawling, exuberant history of Americans in Paris during a 70-year span of the 19th Century.

It's hard to say this is McCullough's best book -- he does have those two Pulitzers after all -- but it's easy to understand why it's his favorite.

The book overflows with energy and inspiration, creativity and promise, so well does McCullough capture the spirit of Paris and the Americans who briefly called it home.

We meet novelist James Fenimore Cooper, Samuel F.B. Morse (famous in this country for inventing the telegraph, but who was a bold and muscular painter), the portraitist George P.A. Healey, the medical student Oliver Wendell Holmes, writers Ralph Waldo Emerson and Nathaniel Hawthorne, the sculptor Augustus Saint-Gaudens, painters Mary Cassatt and John Singer Sargent, future Senator Charles Sumner and the American ambassador Elihu Washburne.

It is a large, sprawling cast that's not limited to Americans. Paris, its citizens and sites -- from the Louvre to the Champs-Elysee to the Eiffel Tower (which appears surprisingly late in the story) -- also play a major role in McCullough's history.

McCullough's principal contention is that 19th Century Paris -- from 1830 to 1900 -- helped shape these Americans and consequently helped shape America. McCullough's American cast, and more, returned to their homeland having increased their knowledge, enhanced their expertise and awakened to an awareness of a wider world and a new perspective on that world.

It was in Paris, for example, that Sumner, who became a leading proponent for the abolition of slavery, first began to understand that the way blacks were treated in American was not part of the natural order, but an outgrowth of custom.

In entertaining fashion, McCullough leads us to re-examine the critical role that France played in the America we celebrate today.

Three to read, one to skip

2011-07-03T11:40:00.000-04:00

Once again, I'm guilty of reading rather than blogging. The consequence is that there's a small tower of books on the stand next to the computer.

So, here's four quick summaries to reduce the tower to a more manageable size.

69. The Alchemist by Paolo Bacigalupi

Bacigalupi is Gaiman-like in his ability to master a variety of genres frrom pure science fiction to YA lit to unadulterated fantasy.

The Alchemist, an award-winning novella from Subterranean Press, is Bacigalupi's stab at fantasy. It's a compelling tale of a world in which each use of magic, however benign, spawns the growth of a thorny, poisonous, malevolent bramble.

The alchemist of the title uses magic to calm the persistent cough that threatens his daughter's health. He feels guilty about using magic, but justifies it by his search for a solution to eradicate the bramble.

I have only one complaint about The Alchemist -- it's a paired novella. The story of the alchemist, who is on the run when this book ends, is completed in a novella by Tobias Buckell. So many books, so little time.

70. Bradbury An Illustrated Life by Jerry Weist

It wouldn't work for just anyone, but Ray Bradbury is the perfect choice for an illustrated biography. This table-top sized book, assembled by Jerry Weist, makes no attempt to be a comprehensive story of Bradbury's life.

What it does do is capture a broad swatch of his creative life. The book is fat with reproductions of early fanzines in which Bradbury got his start, stills from television shows and movies, artist's illustrations of his stories that appeared in countless magazines, covers of pulps featuring his writing, pages of story adaptations from EC Comics and the covers of his books, including foreign editions.

It's a visual feast, and a fitting celebration of Bradbury's creative life.

71. The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven by Sherman Alexie

Humor and pain are the elements that war for dominance in Sherman Alexie's superb stories of Indian life in and around the Spokane Indian Reservation.

Alexie's stories are filled with vivid characters who confront heartbreak and loss, the devastating (and inevitable) effects of alcohol and the decades-old degradation that penetrates the soul of a conquered people with a sly humor and stoic acceptance.

Alexie, who tweaks our funny bone and our conscience, ranks among America's most gifted writers.

72. The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ by Philip Pullman

This 2010 novel by Philip Pullman is a mean-spirited re-creation of the Gospel.

Mary gives birth to twins. One she names Jesus. The other, we are told, is given a common name, but Mary always calls him Christ, which is Greek for Messiah.

Inspired by his cousin, John, Jesus becomes an itinerant preacher who attracts a small following even as he begins to generate controversy among the religious rulers. Christ, who is regularly visited by a mysterious stranger, chronicles the events of Jesus's life and his sayings.

Eventually, Jesus is crucified. It is Christ who appears to Mary three days after the crucifixion, to several of the disciples on the road to Emmaus. Christ eventually leaves the area, marries and -- encouraged by the stranger -- sets to work on his account of Jesus's life.

" . . . as Christ sat . . . he couldn't help thinking of the story of Jesus, and how he could improve it. For example, there could be some miraculous sign to welcome the birth: a star, an angel. And the childhood of Jesus might be studded with charming little wonder-tales of boyish mischief leavened by magic, which could nevertheless be interpreted as signs of greater miracles to come."

It's an altogether cynical excursion into fantasy that rather than re-telling the life of Jesus, seeks to re-invent it, and the establishment of the Catholic Church, as a great hoax.

Four books that include a cop's life and a sacrifical ballplayer

2011-06-19T09:59:00.000-04:00

I hate writing about four books at once, but I also hate the stack of books lurking near my computer, reminding me that I need to say something about them. Let's say this -- they are all good books and I'd recommend each one.

Now for something a little more personal about each book.

Book 63: The Widower’s Tale by Julia Glass

There's an inherent appeal to a novel that features not one, but two tree houses as is the case with The Widower's Tale by Julia Glass.

I have enjoyed her novels since she made her debut with the award-winning Three Junes. Glass's novels have their share of dysfunction, heart ache and disappointment, but there is also a joy that emerges in her work, a celebration of life despite its pain and misfortune.

The Widower's Tale is the story of 70-year-old Percy Darling, a sharp-tongued curmudgeon who continues to mourn the passing of his wife decades after she drowned. As the novel progresses unexpected events, from a late-life romance to acts of eco-terrorism, help Percy shed his grief and embrace life and all it quizzical turns.

Book 66: A Well-Paid Slave by Brad Snyder

"A well-paid slave is nonetheless a slave." Curt Flood

As author Brad Snyder notes Cardinals' outfielder Curt Flood was not baseball's first free agent. Nor did his lawsuit, which ultimately made its way to the Supreme Court, create free agency or result in the elimination of baseball's reserve clause.

"But," Snyder writes, "his legal battle set the stage for free agency in baseball."

It's possible, I suppose, to see Flood as other than heroic. His decision to reject a trade from St. Louis to Philadelphia, to leave the game when he was among its highest paid players and to sue baseball, to challenge the reserve clause, directly led to the game we know today.

How you view that game will go a long way in determining how you view Flood.

The owner's contended that without the reserve clause baseball could not survive. Yet, today, the game flourishes. What owners surrendered to players was a share of the game's wealth.

Flood, whose baseball career and whose future in the game was wrecked because of his defiance, always knew that he would never benefit from his suit, but that other players would.

Snyder's challenge, and one that he meets with verve, is to make the legal aspects of this book -- which are at its very heart -- as spellbinding as the baseball. He provides a balanced portrait of Flood, a great player who struggled with alcoholism, and provides intriguing portraits of other men who played a role in this courtroom drama from labor leader Marvin Miller to baseball commissioner Bowie Kuhn.

Book 67: The Tragedy of Arthur by Arthur Phillips

Novelist Arthur Phillips ruptures the veil between the worlds of fiction and reality as he casts himself as the central character in this comic novel of a dysfunctional family with an obsession for William Shakespeare.

Phillips is the unreliable narrator of what is putatively the foreword to a newly discovered play by Shakespeare, but which quickly develops into an often whiny memoir of how his daddy loved his twin sister more.

Daddy has spent most of his life in prison for various schemes involving fraud and forgery, which naturally leads Phillips to suspect that this new play by Shakespeare -- stashed in his father's safety deposit box for decades -- wasn't written by the Bard, but dad.

As Phillips argues that the play isn't what it appears to be, everyone else -- from his sister, who has memorized huge swathes of Shakespeare's works, to university professors -- line up to proclaim that Shakespeare does indeed appear to have written this brilliant new play. Even Random House, Phillip's publisher in the novel and real life, gets in the act.

More than two-thirds of The Tragedy of Arthur is devoted to the memoir. Roughly another 100 pages feature the play, of the same name, which Phillips (the real one) wrote. I'll willingly confess I didn't read it.

So I read The Tragedy of Arthur, but not The Tragedy of Arthur, which makes perfect sense to anyone reading the newest novel/foreword/memoir by Arthur Phillips, real and imagined.

Book 68: Rizzo’s Fire by Lou Manfredo

It's the insider's understanding of a cop's day-to-day world that make Lou Manfredo's novels about Brooklyn detective Joe Rizzo such a pleasure to read.

Manfredo understands that a cop's life is about the quotidian chores of filing reports, canvassing the neighborhood and exploring unlikely leads, rather than the glamour of car chases and shoot outs. Yet, he manages to make the mundane magical.

Rizzo, who is only months from retirement, is a complicated figure. He's proud of his career, but strongly resists a daughter's efforts to follow in his footsteps. He's given to lecturing his new partner or to offering advice to a medical examiner on the scene of a murder out of a mistrust of motivation.

And he will cut corners to nail a bad guy, advance a partner's career or secure additional overtime to pad his retirement. He's quick to give a favor or ask for one.

He's a cop who is passionate about his work, but who also understands that at the end of the day it is a job that exacts a heavy price, a price he's always been willing to pay.

Rizzo's Fire and Manfredo's first book, Rizzo's War are terrific novels for their exceptional insight into a cop's life, the challenges he confronts each day and the trade offs he must make.

Miéville's novels are complex narratives, rich with ideas

2011-06-12T16:05:00.000-04:00

Book 62: The City and The City by China Miéville
Book 65: Embassytown by China Miéville

Complex, challenging novels that are occasionally infuriating and always entertaining is how I would characterize the novels of British writer China Miéville.

These are not the pared-down, movie-script-as-a-novel books that Michael Critchton cranked out in his last few years. Rather, these are complex novels that reward the patient reader with a rich story that strikes the rare balance between ideas and action.

The City & The City -- co-winner of the 2010 Hugo Award with Paolo Bacigalupi for the delicious The Windup Girl -- is a noir-ish detective story in a science fiction setting. Yet because Miéville is faithful to both genres the novel never feels like a gimmick.

The novel begins as a conventional police procedural. A body is found, dumped near the ramps of a skateboard park. "Nothing is still as the death are still," observes Police Inspector Tyador Borlú́́, who is called in to investigate the murder.

Those opening pages -- a body unceremoniously dumped by a skateboard park, the police soberly looking on -- is the last time, the only time, that this novel is on familiar ground. Now it gets strange.

Borlú́́ is an inspector in the city of Besź́́̀́́el, which shares the same physical space, the same geography, as the city of Ul Qoman.

Miéville never explains why these two cities overlap, we're only told they do. It first appears as if there's been some quirky dimensional overlay from out of the pages of Marvel Comics. But that's not what's happening here.

Instead, it appear that the residents of Besź́́̀́́el and Ul Qoman have intentionally decided that one city is now really two. It's as if all the residents of a New York borough woke up one morning and decided that based on style of dress, the make of car, the architecture of a house, or the presence of certain colors, that their neighbor doesn't fully exist.

You can see them, but you try real hard not to. You can even visit this other city, but to do so, to visit a neighbor who literally lives across the street, requires that you pass through a checkpoint and a wear badge that identifies you as a visitor. And once you've done that you can't simply walk back across the street to your own home -- you have to pass through the checkpoint again to do that.

To complicate matters, part of the landscape seems to belong only to Besź́́̀́́el, part to Ul Qoman. Some overlaps and other areas aren't a part of either city.

And to complicate matters even more, all of this, this separation, is enforced by a shadowy presence known as the Breach.

This separation between the two cities is important to Borlú́́ because it appears the young woman was killed in one city, her body dumped in another. In the course of his investigation, Borlú́́ learns that the woman may have been murdered because she uncovered evidence of a second shadowy group of people living in the interstice of the two cities, a shadowy group that may be a threat to the Breach.

Miéville challenges the reader by not explaining everything -- either the words he's coined (both novels cry out for a glossary) or the reason that the two cities exist as they do.

Embassytown is just as challenging, just as potentially confusing. In this novel, we find ourselves on a far distant world where humans have established a small outpost, an embassy. The world's sentient life form, the Ariekei, have two mouths.

As a result, the Ariekei hear human speech, but are unable to perceive it as language. Nor are they capable of perceiving a normal human as an intelligent creature.

To communicate with the Ariekei, or the Hosts as they are known to the human residents of Embassytown, humans rely on the "Ambassadors," human twins, doppels, that share an empathetic connection and who separately represent each of the Hosts' two mouths. The Ambassadors are bred in Embassytown.

A crisis erupts when an Ambassador arrives from off world. This Ambassador is not a twin, but two distinct humans, and his/his speech is instantly addictive to the Ariekei.

Both races embark on efforts to free the Ariekei from this addiction. The solution found by the Hosts involves a severe form of self-mutilation that leaves them free of addiction, but unable to speak. The solution found by the human involves teaching the Ariekei to lie.

Further explanations elude me. It's all tied up with the idea that for the Ariekei language is literal. And it has to do with a small number of humans who literally become part of the Ariekei language. As a little girl our narrator becomes a simile in the Hosts language.

Describing Embassytown is as a challenging as reading it. It is a complex novel that demands multiple readings to reach a full understanding of what Miéville is trying to achieve -- if that's even possible.

One reading, or many, Miéville's books are among the most provocative to appear in years. His novels, and the ideas within them, defy the casual read. Yet despite the complexity -- or perhaps because of it -- Miéville also produces a gripping narrative of unparalleled richness.

Millard Fillmore by Paul Finkelman another fine entry in the American Presidents series

2011-06-07T12:34:00.000-04:00

Book 61: Millard Fillmore by Paul Finkelman

Sadly, the American Presidents series from Times Books is coming to an end. Less than a handful of books remain to be issued.

The most recent in the series is Millard Fillmore by Paul Finkelman. To me, this book encompasses all that has been good about the series.

First, the series provides us with brief biographies on each of the Presidents. The books are small, generally running less than 200 pages. Second, while providing an overview of each man's life, the books focus on their tenure as President.

Third, the books are uniformly well written and impeccably researched. There have been stand-outs such as Elizabeth Drew on Richard Nixon, but all of the books have met a high mark; erudite, but not plodding; balanced rather than tendentious.

Finally, and here is where Millard Fillmore is a fine example, the books have featured ALL the presidents and not merely Washington or Lincoln, Adams or Jefferson or Kennedy. Martin Van Buren, Warren G. Harding, John Tyler and, of course, Millard Fillmore.

Fillmore is what Finkelman calls an "accidental president." Zachary Taylor dies in office and Fillmore, an obscure politician from New York, ascends to the presidency. He was also a terrible president, generally deserving the anonymity with which history greets him.

Fillmore was a doughface, a Northern who sympathized with Southern causes, especially slavery. He was stubborn, vindictive and a bigot. The 1856 Presidential nominee of the Know Nothings, he opposed Catholics, immigrants and foreigners of every stripe. While President his support for the Fugitive Slave Act and its aggressive enforcement helped escort this nation into civil war.

"In retirement, Fillmore opposed emancipation and campaigned for a peace that would have left millions of African Americans in chains," Finkelman concludes. "In the end, Fillmore was always on the wrong side of the great moral and political issues of the age: immigration, religious toleration, equality, and, most of all, slavery."

A quote from You Know When the Men Are Gone

2011-06-05T17:26:00.000-04:00

In my haste to finish my post on the short story collections of William Trevor and Siobhan Fallon I neglected to include the following quote from one of Fallon's stories:

"Their fate depended on whether Carla walked out of the room or stood next to her husband. She bit her lip and wondered if this was the sum of a marriage: wordless recriminations or reconciliations, every breath either striving against or toward the other person, each second a decision to exert or abdicate the self."

The short story flourishes in collections by Trevor and Fallon

2011-06-05T11:50:00.000-04:00

Book 60: Selected Stories by William Trevor

Book 64: You Know When the Men Are Gone by Siobhan Fallon

My reading in late May and early June includes two superb short story collections.

The collection from Irish native William Trevor is hefty, encompassing 48 stories and 567 pages and representing more than a half century of work.

The second collection, belonging to American Siobhan Fallon, is a slender volume of only eight stories and slightly more than 200 pages. It is her first book.

Trevor and Canadian writer Alice Munro are the two finest short story writers today. Fallon joins Maile Meloy, whose entrancing collection Both Ways Is The Only Way I Want It debuted last year, as two of the most promising young writers practicing the short form today.

If we use art as a metaphor, the novelist is a muralist working on a vast surface with an extensive palette and numerous subjects. The short story is a miniature, the palette limited. The short story writer has a narrow focus. It is about subtle detail rather than broad strokes.

The stories by Trevor and Fallon are both rich in detail and observation. The best writers take us inside a world we do know not, allowing us to savor its foreign elements, while finding areas of identification and affinity. We come to understand the commonality of the human experience.

Trevor deftly maneuvers through the world of farmers and priests, lovers and loners.

Fallon's eight remarkable stories are focused the American Army base at Fort Hood outside of Killeen, Texas. Whether she is writing about soldiers or the wives who are left behind she taps a deep well of empathy for the men and women who have sacrificed the quotidian American life for a life ruled by uncertainty, separation, the whims of war and arbitrary military protocol.

In these two collections, a master of the short form, and a student, have both produced closely observed works of rare beauty, power and insight.