Kidd's The Invention of Wings soars

Book Read - February

14.       Kings of the Road, Cameron Stracher

15.       Death Comes for the Archbishop, Willa Cather

16.       Andrew’s Brain, E.L. Doctorow

17.       This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, Ann Patchett

18.       The Invention of Wings, Sue Monk Kidd

19.       March (Book One), John Lewis and Andrew Aydin,

            illustrated by Nate Powell

20.       The Dead in Their Vaulted Arches, Alan Bradley

21.       The Pagan Lord, Bernard Cornwell

22.       Catch and Release, Lawrence Block

23.       A Compendium of Collective Nouns, Woop Studios

24.       Orfeo, Richard Powers

25.       Tom’s Town, William M. Reddig

26.       The Kept, James Scott

27.       This Dark Road to Mercy, Wiley Cash

28.       The Free, Willy Vlautin

29.       Granta #124 Travel

Books Bought – February

B.B. King's Lucille and the Loves Before Her by Eric Dahl

A Land More Kind Than Home by Wiley Cash

The Free by Willy Vlautin

The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck

Sue Monk Kidd’s The Invention of Wings is an early entry for the best book of 2014. This fictional account of the Grimke sisters, daughters of the confederacy who became leading voices in the movement to abolish slavery, and of a slave, who valued freedom more than life, is a powerful and moving novel.

Kidd’s prose is crisp and clean with impressive flights of lyricism.

Reading Wings and John Lewis’s autobiographical March during African American History Month was unintentional on my part. But whether serendipity or the subconscious at work, the timing brought a depth to my reading in February.

March Book One (I eagerly await Book Two) demonstrates how the graphic novel – or in this instance a graphic autobiography – can tell a story simply, yet powerfully. Nate Powell’s illustrations are the perfect complement to Lewis’s voice.

The Kept, This Dark Road to Mercy and The Free all fall into the same nebulous category of books that elude easy categorization. The Free, the newest novel by Willy Vlautin, is the best of these three books.  You may have passed the books protagonists on the street today, as you checked out at the supermarket or visited a friend in the hospital.

Not literally, of course, but Vlautin draws an affecting portrait of everyday people – a kind-hearted nurse, a dying soldier, a man holding down multiple jobs yet still schuffling to survive.

Vlautin is largely unknown as a novelist. Those who have read his books, such as Lean On Pete, know that he writes simply, yet powerfully. Perhaps, he’s little read because we see ourselves too clearly in his characters.

After reading This Dark Road to Mercy I rushed out and bought Cash’s first book. Dark Road is the story of two sisters who have been kidnapped by their father. Dad has stolen some money and is being followed a murderous fellow intent on reclaiming the money and taking revenge for an eye injury suffered years before in a baseball game.

Events converge in St. Louis with the Mark McGwire-Sammy Sosa home run chase as a backdrop. It’s not great literature, but entertaining as hell. Cash is a writer to watch.

Revenge also figures in The Kept, which follows a mother and son, the only survivors of a family mysteriously slaughtered by three men. In uncovering the motive for the murders, the son learns a disturbing truth about his mother.

Death Comes For the Archbishop by Willa Cather continues my 2014 plans of re-reading one great book each month. I don’t think this is Cather’s best book -- that status is held by My Antonia – but it’s close. Cather’s respect for the archbishop, his work and faith, for the people of New Mexico and for the country’s landscape, infuses the book with a palpable grandeur.

New books by Alan Bradley and Bernard Cornwell are each part of a series that I recommend without reservation.  Both characters – a 12-year-old sleuth with a disturbing knowledge of poisons and a Saxon warlord who wields a mean sword – are vivid  characters. I am always, always, ready to read their next adventures.

E.L. Doctorow’s new book, Andrew’s Brain, was hugely disappointing for a work by a major American author. The same was true of Orfeo by Richard Powers.

Catch and Release, a collection of short works by Lawrence Block is uneven.

Ann Patchett’s collection of essays and articles, This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, illustrates Patchett’s range as a writer. Frankly, I’m a fanboy. She’s funny and insightful in equal measure. Plus she owns a bookstore. No wonder I’m crushing on her.

Tom’s Town, a history of Kansas City and boss Tom Pendergast, is a product of its time. Despite showing its age, it remains a fascinating read and told me a lot about the town I now live in.

I enjoyed Kings of the Road, about Frank Shorter, Bill Rodgers and Alberto Salazar, but was left wanting more.

No such disappointment with A Compendium of Collective Nouns. If you’re a word person, this is a delightful book, best enjoyed a few pages at a time.

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

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.

Cornwell stumbles with The Fort

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.