Sunday, January 23, 2011
Gordon-Reed on Andrew Johnson; Carl Hiassen on the cult of celebrity
Randy Newman's album, Good Old Boys, is the perfect antidote to Annette Gordon-Reed's biography of Andrew Johnson.
An antidote isn't necessary due to anything Gordon-Reed has done, but rather it is needed due to the pernicious racism of the 17th President of the United States.
Newman explodes the notion of racism in his music. Johnson dashed the dreams of thousands of Freedmen in the heady days following the end of the American Civil War and set back their cause for nearly a century.
"Johnson's attitude toward blacks, or 'niggers' as he termed them in private conversation, was resolutely negative," writes Gordon-Reed. "It would be impossible to exaggerate how devastating it was to have a man who affirmatively hated black people in charge of the program that was designed to settle the terms of their existence in post-Civil War America."
Despite the task of writing a biogrpahy about such an unappetizing American politician as Johnson, Gordon-Reed provides a balanced portrait of the man who succeeded Abraham Lincoln as president. Her work fits admirably alongside the other uniformly superb biographies that make up Times Books' American Presidents Series. These are small books -- normally under 200 pages -- that focus on the individual's tenure as president.
Gordon-Reed notes, for example, that Johnson was a self-made man. He was born amid extreme poverty and later apprenticed to a tailor. In time, he fled the tailor and his hometown, ultimately migrating to Tennessee where opened his own tailor shop, married and found his way into elective politics.
Johnson was unusual in that when the Civil War broke out, and Tennessee left the Union, he remained loyal, continuing to serve in the U.S. Senate. He was selected Lincoln's running mate for his second term and became president when Lincoln was assassinated. He served only the one term, during which he was impeached and came within a single vote of being unceremoniously removed from office.
Gordon-Reed notes that Johnson believed that the South "never really left the Union because secession was a legal impossibility." Whatever his curious political beliefs, it is true that Johnson betrayed the thousands of African-Americans bound in slavery in the South, and millions of their descendants, by his resolute belief in white supremacy and in his desire to quickly restore the status quo following the war.
It is a sad chapter in American history. One that took generations to set right, if such a wrong can truly ever be set right.
Book Eleven: Star Island by Carl Hiaasen
I can think of few authors who so successfully explode pretension and greed as Carl Hiaasen. And, one should add, explode these fine attributes in such a damnably funny way.
Hiaasen's target in Star Island is the cult of celebrity that enthralls so many Americans today. He takes on narcisstic, talentless pop singers (think Jessica Simpson), whose true talent is their ability to ingest vast quantities of alcohol and drugs and engage in promiscious sex; their entourage from enabling parents to agents to PR flaks; and, finally, the paparazzi who prey on the famous and near-famous because of our endless appetite for scandal, sex, drugs and rock and roll.
The story isn't really important here. A few familiar faces do stroll across these pages, including Skink, the former, Florida governor who has abandoned the State Capitol for the Everglades, and Chemo, the pock-faced murderer with a weed whacker for an arm.
Star Island is funny, very funny. And, as with all Hiaasen's work, the bad guys get their comeuppance and good things happen to good people.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
On Zero History and The Sherlockian
Damned if I know what William Gibson is up to in Zero History.
It's his third novel to feature Hubertus Bigend, a Belgian who runs the viral marketing and cool-hunting agency, Blue Ant. Bigend made his first appearance in Pattern Recognition in 2003, his second in Spook Country in 2007.
Spook Country also introduced us to Hollis Henry, former lead singer of the fictional '90s band the Curfew. Hollis returns in Zero History, relcutantly back in the employee of Bigend. After the economy crashed Hollis's vow never to work for Bigend again must give way to the prospect of a lucrative payday.
Hollis was exploring "locative art" for Bigend in Spook Country. Now, she's trying to identify the creator of a mystertious "secret brand" of clothing called Gabriel Hounds.
Also returning from Spook Country is Milgrim. Then a high-end junkie, now in recovery, Milgrim is off on a mission for Bigend that involves military uniforms. It seems there are lots of young men who don't want to be in the military, but who want people to think they are -- and Bigend senses an opportunity to control an important market.
Unfortunately, Miligrim has unintentionally drawn the interest and anger of a former special ops officer who is attempting to corner the market on combat wear as a way of concealing his illicit arms deals.
All this brings a sprawling cast of characters together in a climatic ambush that's over almost before it begins.
In the course of Zero History there's a nifty little surprise associated with Gabriel Hounds and a character from Pattern Recognition. The other delight of Zero History, which has been true of Gibson's work from the beginning, are all his shady, shadowy minor characters, which introduce a decidely Dickensian spirit to his writing.
Gibson once wrote about a not-too-distant future, now he's writing about a present that seems to exist in a parallel universe only a step or two removed from our own. It's all fun and cool, even if I don't understand what it's all about.

I should like The Sherlockian more than I did. It's based on real-life events. A diary and papers belonging to Holmes' creator Arthur Conan Doyle did go missing after Doyle's death. And a foremost Holmes scholar did turn up dead, under mysterious circumstances, after announcing he had recovered Doyle's lost papers.
Author Graham Moore takes us down parallel, but related paths to explain what might have happened to the missing papers and the dead scholar.
One path involves Harold White, a newly minted member of The Baker Street Irregulars, the world's premiere Holmes society, who is off to investigate the scholar's murder and re-locate the missing diary. The second path involves Doyle and Dracula author Bram Stoker, friends in real life, and recounts what the diary contains (all fictional, of course) and how it came to be missing.
The novel doesn't quite deliver. The tale of Doyle and Stoker is more intriguing than the implausible adventures of Mr. White, who never emerges fully formed as a character.
Ultimately, White and another character do something that simply does not feel right. It's not merely unlikely, it's improbable. Moore presents it as a satisfying and appropriate conclusion to the novel, but for this reader it was quite the opposite.
The best thing that can be said about The Sherlockian is that the cover design for its dust jacket is stunning.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Four Fish a chronicle of the poisoning and plundering of the seas
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
The Anniversary Man a rewarding thriller
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The Spot and Guitar An American Life
Quirky seems too bright a word to describe the short stories of David Means. Offbeat? Unconventional? Bizarre?
All of that. The subject matter isn't the sort of fare dished up by Alice Munro or William Trevor. Instead, we enter worlds few of us would enter voluntarily. A world of bank robbers and bums, failed actors, pimps and a couple caught in an affair that is going nowhere.
It isn't just the subject matter that's unconventional, but the voices that emerge from each of these stories. In Means' hands, the voices of these people from the fringe of society feels so authentic that the reader experiences a voyeuristic thrill that is deliciously creepy.

There are two stories in Guitar An American Life. The first is a biography of the guitar, especially how it attained its place in American music.
Lots of performers you know -- Mother Maybelle, Chet Atkins, Django Reinhardt -- and many more you may not populate these pages. Brookes tells us how various forms of music -- from wave after wave of Hawaiian performers that inundated the Mainland to rock and roll -- shaped our acceptance and understanding of this instrument that was once seen as a tool of the devil.
The second story is about the efforts of guitar maker from the Green Mountains of Vermont to build a new guitar for Brookes. It's a surprisingly intimate account and a fascinating look at a creative process that strikes a balance between functionality and art.
Guitar An American Life came to me as a Christmas gift from my oldest son. It was a title well chosen.
Biblioz.com, Birthday Best Sellers
This is an intriguing website. Type in your birthday and see the New York Times bestsellers that week. Desiree by Annemarie Selinko was the topselling book the week I was born. Followed by A.J. Cronin's Beyond This Place, Too Late the Phalarope by Alan Paton and Time and Time Again by James Hilton.
The Power of Positive Thinking by Norman Vincent Peale was the top-selling work of non-fiction.
D.C. is America's most literate city.
And, what makes it all especially nice from a residents' point of view, is that D.C. is so compact, and the Metro so convenient, that all of the events offered up annually are easy to get to.
Now, in a story this morning, USA Today reports that an annual study finds Washington is America's most literate city.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
The Long Ships: "It's really good." Really.

In his introduction to Fran G. Bengtsson's The Long Ships, author Michael Chabon assures us "it's really good."
Chabon is spot on. It is good. Damn good.
Books like The Long Ships are the reason I read.
Bengtsson was born and raised in the southern Swedish province of Skåne. He published Red Orm on the Western Way in 1941. Red Orm at Home and on the Eastern Way followed in 1945. The two books first appeared in America and England in 1955 in a single volume titled The Long Ships.
The Long Ships is the story of Red Orm. While still a youth, Orm, a Dane, attempts to prevent Viking raiders from absconding with the family livestock, only to find himself a captive aboard the radiers' ship. It isn't long before the youth convinces the raiders to return his sword and make him a part of their party.
And that quickly we're off on a propulsive series of adventures: Orm becomes a prisoner of the Moors in Spain, he later journeys to Iceland, finds himself at the Scandinavian court of King Harald and ransacks England only to meet King Ethelred and convert to Christianity.
What begins as a series of high adventures in the first books, develops, in the second half, into a satisfying story of Orm's life from his hasty marriage and baptism to the settled life that follows. Those seeking the thrills of the first part of the books need not fear, The Long Ships concludes with not one but two final adventures: the first to recover hidden gold and the second to reclaim his daughter from a rogue priest who now leads an outlaw band.
Bengtsson is a master of pace. Whether its swords and sea and high adventures or sewing crops, rearing children and raising churches, there is a gentle but insistence pace to the narrative that propels the reader from page to page.
The sly and subtle humor is The Long Ships most unexpected feature, and one of its best. Consider this excerpt:
The twelve Virds sat in the center of the half-circle, and their chieftain rose first. His name was Ugge the Inarticulate, son of Oar; he was an old man, and had the reputation of being the wisest person in the whole of Värend. It had always been the case with him that he was never able to speak except with great difficulty, but everyone agreed that this was a sign of the profundity of his thinking . . .
Fans of everything from sword and sorcery to historical fiction -- from Robert E. Howard's Conan to Bernard Cornwell's Saxon Series -- will embrace this brilliant and buoyant novel. It's the slap of an ocean wave against a dragon-prowed ship, the clash of tempered steel, a quaff of cold ale.
Yes, it's really good.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
A reading challenge for 2011
For example, a site called Roof Beam Reader has a contest called the 2011 To Be Read Pile Challenge. The idea is to take 12 books that have been on your bookshelf or "to be read" list for more than a year and actually read those books in 2011.
Curious, I'm always noodling with such a list. Might as well take up the challenge. The extra motivation is welcome.
Here's my list of 12 with two alternates:
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
You can read all the rules at the Roof Beam Reader website, but the list must be comprised of books you have not read. It's an especially great challenge for me because I always try to read books that have been lingering on the list (entirely mental) or in the actual pile for years.
Should be fun. I'll keep you posted.
2011 reading begins with two mysteries by Louise Penny
Book Two: The Brutal Telling by Louise Penny
The first two books of 2011 were mysteries by Louise Penny.
Increasingly, I've come to appreciate Penny's work in recasting the cozy mystery for a modern audience.
Largely set in the tiny Canadian village of Three Pines, Penny provides a fascinating cast of characters -- Chief Inspector Gamache, in particular, can hold his own with Banks or Rebus -- and through their lives she skillfully explores human nature, especially its dark side.
That's the value of such a large cast of charactes in a mystery series. Penny, who provides the reader with three sets of distinct characters, has the luxury of time and space to explore the twists and turns of human nature and to develop backstories for the most enduring of her characters.

In A Rule Against Murder, the village of Three Pines makes only a cameo appearance. Bulk of the novel is set in an isolated auberge where Gamache and his wife, Reine Marie, are vacationing. Also at the auberge, for an annual gathering, is a quarrelsome family that includes two of the Three Pines villagers that we've come to known.
Naturally, a member of the family is murdered, by a most ingenious method, which takes Gamache and the reader some time to unravel. It's not Penny's best book in the series, but it is especially good because of what we learn about Gamache's past and the insight into one of the two Three Pines familiars.
The Brutal Telling may be Penny's finest mystery to date. It involves the death of a hermit, whose existence in a cabin a short distance from Three Pines, is unknown to all of the villagers save one, until the hermit's untimely demise.
The mystery surrounding the hermit's identity and the treasure that fills his modest cabin is engaging, but what elevates the book is Penny's courage in tying the murder to one of the Three Pines denizens we've come to know since the series debuted.
Sunday, January 09, 2011
Erdrich on writing for children
Writing for children now, I pare back description, stick to action, humor, trouble, triumph. Of course there also has to be death, but not too much. I have to watch that. I can't become Cormac McCarthy for the middle reader.
From an interview in the Paris Review (issue 195, Winter 2010).
Monday, January 03, 2011
More thoughts on Conroy's My Reading Life
Conroy's book inspired me to compile a list of book I want to read. Some were directly the result of Conroy's suggestion -- Gone With The Wind, War and Peace, Deliverance and the poetry of James Dickey, and the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, which I've read many times before, but not in some years.
I've also added Larry McMurtry's Lonesome Dove, Conroy's own The Great Santini and Willa Cather's Death Comes For the Archbishop, a book I have not read in many years.
Saturday, January 01, 2011
Thoughts on 2010 reading list
The books aren’t all I read. There were stacks of comics, every issue of The New Yorker, the occasional newspaper, website and cereal box.
But the books are why we do this. First, the caveats. There are three. I don't do a "best of" list. I don't read enough books for that. Instead, I like to single out a few of the books that I enjoyed the most. Books that evoked a laugh or a tear. Call it my favorite reads. The list is comprised of "recent" books -- most were written in the past year. If I didn't do this, whatever book by Charles Dickens that I read in the past year would always, always, be at the top of the list.
Finally, although I observe them, I dislike the arbitrary restrictions imposed by genres -- science fiction, mystery, young adult. Such categories prevent people from exploring books I'm convinced they would enjoy. Michael Connelly is a good example. He's a hell of interesting and entertaining writer, but some of you've never picked up his books because he's a "mystery" writer. That's a mistake. The same is true for Neil Gaiman. He has a book on this list that I'm convinced will still be read decades from now.
Contemporary novels:
Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand, Helen Simonson
Behind the Scenes at the Museum, Kate Atkinson
The Hand That First Held Mine, Maggie O’Farrell
Room, Emma Donoghue
Half Broke Horses, Jeannette Walls.
The Hand That First Held Mine tops this list with Major Pettigrew's Last Stand and Behind the Scenes at the Museum close behind. O'Farrell tells two parallel stories that ultimately become one. It's tender and wise and an altogether lovely book. Simonson channels Jane Austen in this delicious comedy of manner. I'm a Kate Atkinson fanboy.
I read the five books short-listed for the National Book Award and a couple of the books on the shortlist for the Booker Prize. I liked Jaimy Gordon's Lord of Misrule, which took me into the world of a down-at-its-heels West Virginia racetrack. It almost broke the top five above. by Peter Carey was a good read. Nicole Krauss is a supremely talented writer, but she fell Parrot & Olivier in America short in the humorless Great House. As for the Booker winner, The Finkler Question by Howard Jacobson, I did not like it at all.
Young Adult:
The Graveyard Book, Neil Gaiman
Ship Breaker, Paolo Bacigalupi
It's A Book, Lane Smith
Gaiman's wonderful book about a baby raised by the denizens of a graveyard makes my all-time list. It's that good. It's A Book is a children's book. I had to put it somewhere. It was one of my very, very favorites reads this year.
Mystery/Thriller:
The Reversal, Michael Connelly
The Weed That Strings the Hangman’s Bag, Alan Bradley
Faithful Place, Tana French
Gutshot Straight, Lou Berney
Do They Know I’m Running?, David Corbett
I could add another 5 books here. The work of Louise Penny and Robert Crais, Robinson and Rankin, Steve Hamilton's The Lock Artist and The Moonlight Mile of Dennis Lehane, which revives the duo of Kenzie and Genaro. Connelly, French and Corbett explode the genre.
Science Fiction:
The Windup Girl, Paolo Bacigalupi
Bacigalupi is an inventive writer with two books on the list. I have a feeling there will be more in the future.
Non-Fiction:
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot
Lyndon B. Johnson, Charles Peters
Bob Dylan in America, Sean Wilentz
Unbroken, Laura Hillenbrand
Colonel Roosevelt, Edmund Morris
A guy at a bookstore recently grabbed up Unbroken and said, "I hope it's half as good as Seabiscuit." It is at least that. I hope you appreciate the variety here. A little science, some culture and arts, two political biographies -- one big, one brief -- and Unbroken, which is a personal history of World War II, a bit of sports bio and pure Christian inspiration.
Memoir:
Composed, Rosanne Cash
My Reading Life, Pat Conroy
I loved My Reading Life. Much of what Conroy writes about reading captures my feelings perfectly. I loved The List, Rosanne's album of songs her father said she needed to know. I was pleasantly surprised how much I enjoyed Composed. She's a thoughtful, intelligent woman.
Sports:
Roger Maris, Baseball’s Reluctant Hero, Tom Clavin and Danny Peary
The Last Hero, A Life of Henry Aaron, Howard Bryant
Jane Leavy's biography of Mickey Mantle is not here. I just didn't like it that much. Bryant's biography of Henry Aaron is a stellar work that puts the slugger's life and career into cultural perspective. I didn't know much about Roger Maris until reading this bio by Clavin and Peary. Let me just say this: Maris was universally admired by his teammates and when he died Mantle wept.
My 2010 Reading List
January
1. My Father Is A Book, Janna Malamud Smith
2. Literary Life, Larry McMurtry
3. Little Dorrit, Charles Dickens
4. Half Broke Horses, Jeannette Walls
5. The Graveyard Book, Neil Gaiman
6. Shadow Tag, Louise Erdrich
7. The First Rule, Robert Crais
8. Rizzo’s War, Lou Manfredo
9. The Lock Artist, Steve Hamilton
February
10. The Hidden Man, David Ellis
11. Gutshot Straight, Lou Berney
12. Give My Poor Heart Ease, Voices of the Mississippi Blues, William Ferris
13. The Godfather of Kathmandu, John Burdett
14. Food Rules, Michael Pollan
15. A Quiet Belief in Angels, R.J. Ellory
16. Doors Open, Ian Rankin
17. The Mexican Tree Duck, James Crumley
18. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot
19. After the Sundown, Pat Jordan
20. The Price of Love and Other Stories, Peter Robinson
21. The Farmer’s Daughter, Jim Harrison
22. To Hell on a Fast Horse, Mark Lee Gardner
March
23. Rebel Yell, Alice Randall
24. The Burning Land, Bernard Cornwell
25. The Possessed, Elif Batuman
26. The Blue Horse, Rick Bass
27. Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand, Helen Simonson
28. Willie Mays, The Life, The Legend, James S. Hirsch
29. The Surrendered, Chang-Rae Lee
April
30. Solar, Ian McEwan
31. The Weed That Strings the Hangman’s Bag, Alan Bradley
32. A Family Daughter, Maile Meloy
33. Franklin Pierce, Michael F. Holt
34. Blackout, Connie Willis
35. Once A Spy, Keith Thomson
36. A Reader on Reading, Alberto Manguel
37. Watch, Robert Sawyer
38. The Unnamed, Joshua Ferris
May
39. Behind the Scenes at the Museum, Kate Atkinson
40. Suite Francaise, Irene Nemirovsky
41. Notes From A Small Island, Bill Bryson
42. Filthy English, Peter Silverton
43. Where the God of Love Hangs Out, Amy Bloom
June
44. 61 Hours, Lee Child
45. The Last Good Kiss, James Crumley
46. The Devil’s Redhead, David Corbett
47. The Hand That First Held Mine, Maggie O’Farrell
48. The Girl with Glass Feet, Ali Shaw
49. The Trade of Queens, Book Six of the Merchant Princes, Charles Stross
50. Roger Maris, Baseball’s Reluctant Hero, Tom Clavin and Danny Peary
51. Do They Know I’m Running?, David Corbett
July
52. Burley Cross Postbox Theft, Nicola Barker
53. Spies of the Balkans, Alan Furst
54. Case Histories, Kate Atkinson
55. Books Do Furnish A Room, Leslie Geddes-Brown
56. Black Cherry Blues, James Lee Burke
57. The Case for Books, Robert Darnton
58. The Jennifer Morgue, Charles Stross
59. Still Life, Louise Penny
60. When That Rough God Goes Riding, Greil Marcus
61. The Terrible Privacy of Maxwell Sim, Jonathan Coe
62. One Good Turn, Kate Atkinson
63. Bicycle Days, John Burnham Schwartz
August
64. Faithful Place, Tana French
65. Work Song, Ivan Doig
66. The Friends of Eddie Coyle, George V. Higgins
67. Kings of the Earth, Jon Clinch
68. The Margarets, Sheri Tepper
69. A Fatal Grace, Louise Penny
70. I Curse the River of Time, Per Petterson
71. Layover in Dubai, Dan Fesperman
72. The Only Game in Town, Sportswriting from The New Yorker, ed. David Remnick
73. Hollywood, Larry McMurtry
74. Tinkers, Paul Harding
75. Composed, Rosanne Cash
September
76. Lyndon B. Johnson, Charles Peters
77. Bad Boy, Peter Robinson
78. It’s a Book, Lane Smith
79. Cardboard Gods, Josh Wilker
80. The Fuller Memorandum, Charles Stross
81. Drown, Junot Diaz
82. Freedom, Jonathan Franzen
83. Super Sad True Love Story, Gary Shteyngart
84. Packing for Mars, Mary Roach
85. The Cruelest Month, Louise Penny
86. Jimmy Carter, Julian E. Zelizer
October
87. Started Early, Took My Dog, Kate Atkinson
88. Think of a Number, John Verdon
89. Bob Dylan in America, Sean Wilentz
90. The Lacuna, Barbara Kingsolver
91. The 5th Inning, E. Ethelbert Miller
92. Fledgling, Octavia E. Butler
93. Our Kind of Traitor, John le Carre
94. Bloody Crimes, The Chase for Jefferson Davis and the Death Pageant for Lincoln’s Corpse, James Swanson
November
95. The Windup Girl, Paolo Bacigalupi
96. The Last Boy, Mickey Mantle and the End of America’s Childhood, Jane Leavy
97. Worth Dying For, Lee Child
98. The Reversal, Michael Connelly
99. Djibouti, Elmore Leonard
100. Unbroken, Laura Hillenbrand
101. Room, Emma Donoghue
102. Lord of Misrule, Jaimy Gordon
103. Moonlight Mile, Dennis Lehane
December
104. Great House, Nicole Krauss
105. Rogue Island, Bruce DeSilva
106. The Last Hero, A Life of Henry Aaron, Howard Bryant
107. The Finkler Question, Howard Jacobson
108. So Much For That, Lionel Shriver
109. Hull Zero Three, Greg Bear
110. Parrot & Olivier in America, Peter Carey
111. Colonel Roosevelt, Edmund Morris
112. I Hotel, Karen Tei Yamashita
113. My Reading Life, Pat Conroy
114. Ship Breaker, Paolo Bacigalupi
“Fiction had never been Jackson’s thing. Facts seemed challenging enough without making stuff up. What he discovered was that the great novels of the world were about three things – death, money and sex. Occasionally a whale.”
--Kate Atkinson
p. 53, Started Early, Took My Dog
“At least he still had his own hair. Every guy you saw these days had shaved away his male-pattern baldness in a futile attempt to look hard rather than merely hairless.”
--Kate Atkinson
p. 57, Started Early, Took My Dog
“Revolution, O.K., but what cook believes in democracy?”
--Karen Tei Yamashita
p. 444, I Hotel
Friday, December 31, 2010
Ship Breaker the most fun outside a comic book

And so, the final book of 2010: Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacigalupi.
Bacigalupi's award-winning The Windup Girl was a wonder. Ship Breaker, shortlisted for the 2010 National Book Award for Young People's Literature, is another dazzling effort by this talented young writer, who is rapidly becoming one of my favorites.
Ship Breaker is set in a not too-distance future; perhaps the world a few years removed from The Windup Girl. Nailer, a teenage boy, is part of a salvage crew, breaking up the massive ships that dot the Louisiana coast and selling the copper wiring and other remnants for salvage.
After a massive storm strikes the coast, Nailer finds a clipper ship destroyed by the storm. Salvage the remains and his fortune can be made. On board, everyone is dead, except a girl Nailer's age. She is the heir to a shipping fortune and a pawn in a struggle for control of the shipping business.
That quickly we're off on a breakneck adventure that takes Nailer and the girl, now dubbed Lucky Girl, to crumbling remains of Orleans and then to the high seas, where a climatic battle takes place between two clippers while a fierce storm rages.
Anyone not picking up the occasional work written for young adults is missing the most fun since comic books. This is good stuff.
My Reading Life a celebration of books and reading

Pat Conroy and Larry McMurtry have this in common: I have never read a work of fiction by either of these notable novelists.
I have read, and greatly enjoyed, their non-fiction. McMurtry's biography of Crazy Horse is superb -- biography as narrative -- as is Conroy's My Losing Season.
I now add Conroy's My Reading Life to that list. Books on books, books about reading, are a special pleasure for any reader. Our need to read -- and it is a need -- is foreign to most people, they cannot come close to comprehending how reading is like oxygen, but Conroy knows.
My Reading Life is a celebration of reading, a joyous work in which Conroy pays tribute to his mother, another vociferous reader who believed that her son would one day be a Southern writer of note, and to a high school English teacher who played a deeply significant role in his development as a man and a writer.
Conroy celebrates those books and writers who were and are meaningful to him: War and Peace, James Dickey and Thomas Wolfe. He sometimes overwrites -- Conroy knows he is guilty of this authorial sin -- but his fellow readers forgive him this sin because we know that it is only an expression of joy that cannot, will not, be contained.
Conroy writes about how reading has shaped and influenced his work. And he shares, eloquently, what he seeks in a book:
"Now, when I pick up a book, the prayer that rises out of me is that it changes me utterly and that I am not the man who first selected that book from a well-stocked shelf. Here's what I love: when a great writer turns me into a Jew from Chicago, a lesbian out of South Carolina, or a black woman moving into a subway entrance in Harlem. Turn me into something else, writers of the world. Make me Muslim, heretic, hermaphrodite. Put me into a crusader's armor, a cardinal's vestments. Let me feel the pygmy's heartbeat, the queen's breast, the torturer's pleasure, the Nile's taste, or the nomad's thirst. Tell me everything I must know. Hold nothing back."
Above all, Conroy embraces the power of a story. He knows there are critics, even authors, who scorn of the emphasis on narrative. But for Conroy, and for me, "tell me a story" are among the most powerful words in the English language. They are words to conjure with, to fuel a dream, offer escape, to fill the lungs with fresh and vital air and the heart with hope.
"Reading and prayer are both acts of worship to me," Conroy writes. "Amen," Mr. Conroy. "Amen."
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Colonel Roosevelt a splendid conclusion to Morris's trilogy

I never know what I will find when I open a Peter Carey novel. It may be something fine, on the order of True History of the Kelly Gang. Or something I find inexplicable such as The Unusual Life of Tristan Smith.
Carey is at peak form in Parrot & Olivier in America, which was shortlisted for both the Booker Prize and the National Book Award. It is a sprawling, comic, picaresque novel loosely inspired by the life of Alexis de Tocqueville.
De Tocqueville, the Olivier of the novel, comes to America to write about its prison system for a French audience. Ultimately, he expands his book into a comprehensive study of America and Americans of the early 19th Century. Olivier is accompanied to America by an English servant, Parrot.
Sent to report on Olivier's actions in America, Parrot becomes his friend and confidant.
Carey alternates points of view, first a chapter told by Olivier and then by Parrot. And, it is here, that the book's central weakness is most apparent. Parrot, who journeys from England to Australia as a child, and later finds his way to France, is the novel's most interesting character than Olivier and those passages in his voice are more compelling than the story told by Olivier.
All in all, a worthy read. Not Carey's best, perhaps, but approaching it. If for no other reason, Parrot & Olivier in America is worth reading because it is a so-called comic novel that produces genuine laughs.

Colonel Roosevelt is the final book in Edmund Morris's trilogy on the life of Teddy Roosevelt. It is a fine and fitting conclusion to a body of work that has absorbed much of Morris's working life.
I think of few individuals who have led such a fascinating life -- cradle to grave -- as Roosevelt and Morris has done a splendid job in drawing a rich portrait of this complex and driven man.
The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt is the story of Teddy's pre-presidential life from his efforts to throw off debilitating childhood illnesses to become a hunter, cowboy, soldier, vice president and, unexpectedly, president. Theodore Rex, the second book in the trilogy, is the account of his presidency.
Colonel Roosevelt opens with Teddy and his son, Kermit, on an ambitious hunting expedition in Africa. There's also a lengthy passage on Roosevelt's journey to South America to explore an unknown tributary of the Amazon known as the River of Doubt. Roosevelt almost died in South America and, by all reports, never fully recovered from the rigors of that expedition. (Anyone wanting to read more about that trip should investigate the gripping The River of Doubt: Theodore Roosevelt's Darkest Journey by Candice Millard.)
In between those two expeditions, of course, Roosevelt was the Progressive Party candidate for President. Unhappy with the Taft Administration, Roosevelt led a bolt from the Republican Party. He finished second to the Democrat candidate, Woodrow Wilson. Taft, once a Roosevelt confidant and member of the Roosevelt Administration, finished a distant third.
As World War I began, Roosevelt was a critic of Wilson's refusal to lead America in to war. Roosevelt, always the warrior, was less attuned to the will of the America people who were adamantly isolationist. Nor was there great clarity around who the U.S. should support -- Germany or the Allies -- until Germany's policy of unrestricted submarine warfare left America's political leaders with no choice but to enter the war on the side of England, France and Russia.
All four of Roosevelt's sons enlisted. All were injured in the fighting and, Quentin, a pilot was shot down and killed in a fierce aerial battle. Roosevelt did not recover from that grievious loss and died soon after the war's end.
Roosevelt was a complex man, whose opinions and actions may not have always been correct, but were always certain. Colonel Roosevelt is required reading as are the first two books in this fine series.

There are flashes of brilliance in Karen Tei Yamashita's I Hotel, a sprawling story of the Asian American civil rights movement of the late '60s and '70s, but it takes a patient reader to find them.
There are two signficiant problems with this novel that was shortlisted for the National Book Award. The first is that it encompasses ten years of stories sprawled across 600 pages. There is very little continuity from story to story, challenging the reader to remain engaged with the story line.
The second pitfall is that this is largely an experimental work. Mostly prose, but dipping into poetry, drama and the graphic novel, I Hotel tests the limits of a reader's good will.
I Hotel is like an extended jazz solo in which the performer goes on too long.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Bryant's bio of Henry Aaron a HOF entry

The mystery behind a series of arsons in a poor neighborhood in Providence, Rhode Island, takes a back seat to author Bruce DeSilva's insider's portrayal of the newspaper business. DeSilva is a retired journalist and Associated Press writing coach and Rogue Island provides a vehicle for him to take some fond parting shots at his erstwhile profession.
Rogue Island is an entertaining first book, although it doesn't rise to the level of more established writers in the genre. We do learn that Rogue Island is an early name for Rhode Island. After completing the book, my only question is, "Is Rhode Island really that corrupt?" Anyone know?
Book 106: The Last Hero, A Life of Henry Aaron by Howard Bryant
Howard Bryant's biography of Braves slugger Henry Aaron transcends the sports genre. Yes, there's plenty of baseball here and Bryant demonstrates the validity of the truism that "baseball writes." And, yes, it's a well-researched, impeccably told life of the Alabama man who rose to the greatest heights attainable within the sport of baseball.
The book is a huge success solely on those levels -- baseball and biography. But is does author and subject, Bryant and Aaron, a mighty disservice not to embrace the book on one final level; one rarely achieved in sports biography -- sociological perspective.
Bryant's gift is that he sets Aaron's contributions and career -- as athlete and man -- against the social and cultural changes that enveloped Aaron, and America, from the time he left Mobile, determined to become a professional baseball player, to his surpassing Babe Ruth's all-time home run record.
Aaron is a man of great pride and dignity. Bryant's book is a fitting tribute to those qualities as well as to one of the finest players the game of baseball has ever seen. Aaron no longer holds the all-time home run record, giving way to Barry Bonds, but as one observer, quoted by Bryant, notes, he remains "the standard-bearer."
Book 107: The Finkler Question by Howard Jacobson
The Finkler Question, 2010 winner of the prestigious Booker Prize, is a dreary comic novel on what it means to be a Jew.
I guess. Honestly, I didn't take much away from this novel, but I do have a recommendation: read something else.
Book 108: So Much For That by Lionel Shriver
It's Freedom without Franzen.
So Much For That -- short-listed for the National Book Award for fiction -- is an extended rant on all that's wrong with America's health care system. Characters are confronted with an especialy virulent form of cancer, a rare disease that inflicts only Jews, a drug resistant infection raging through a nursing home and an ill-chosen vanity surgery that goes terribly wrong.
Somehow author Lionel Shriver wrests a happy, yet depressingly bogus, ending from this unrelentingly bleak portrait of modern America.
Book 109: Hull Zero Three by Greg Bear
Hull Zero Three, the newest novel from the prolific Greg Bear, goes far to establishing Bear as a Science Fiction Grandmaster in the classic mold of Robert Heinlein, Isaac Asimov or Arthur C. Clarke.
As with many books in the genre, when the novel opens both narrator and reader are confronted with more questions than answers. It takes almost the entire novel to answer most of those questions and that's fine because it's an intriguing, thrilling journey.
Without serving up a spoiler, the narrator, who we come to know as Teacher, is on a massive spaceship. The destination is unknown, but it's clear that something has gone horribly wrong and that war has broken out on board. The reader is step-for-step with Bear's curious cast of characters as they manage to stay alive along enough to unravel the puzzle and set things right.
Ultimately, Bear makes it clear that in whatever shape it takes, humanity -- in the fullest meaning of the word -- can survive amid the cold depths of the stars.
Thursday, December 02, 2010
On Great House by Nicole Krauss

Great House by Nicole Krauss is like a savory bouillabaisse prepared by a promising, yet clumsy chef. You may first spoon up an exquisite text, but dip in a second time and you come away with a mystifying narrative that befuddles even the most attentive reader.
There are four narrators in Great House, three of the four have links to an imposing desk that carries the burden of a large, but elusive symbolic meaning. The fourth narrator, a Jewish man writing about his strained relationship with his son, seems to have no apparent connection with the other stories that comprise this novel.
Only seems to have no apparent connection. It's there, but it is all to easy to overlook. I owe Slate Magazine a debt of gratitude. Only after listening to a podcast on the novel did the connection become apparent to me.
That lack of clarity ruptures the pact between writer and reader, and is a serious flaw in such a serious work.
And Great House is flawed.
Many critics would not agree. In the New York Times, Rebecca Newberger Goldenstein found much to praise in Great House, and the book was shortlisted for the 2010 National Book Awards.
But the Slate podcast alone describes the book as: Fragmentary, mystifying, confusing and bleak, its characters imported from a European art house film and the writing, so distant and removed, that it feels as if it were "from behind a glass."
I list the criticism above because I find the observations valid and because it captures, accurately, much of my thinking on this book.
I also agree with Carlo Strenger, who wrote in his blog on Haaretz.com, "While it is, no doubt a masterpiece of novelistic writing, it leaves the reader with a sense of emptiness."
It is difficult to understand what Krauss is trying to say, to parse the deeper meaning buried in her characters and the narrative. As a reader, I am impatient with writers who force us to gut a novel like a chicken and spill out the entrails in search of meaning.
Far from compelling, the Great House characters emerge as dark, brooding figures, unlikable, and bowed by the weight of the symbolic tonnage vested in them by the author.
Krauss is a gifted writer and she is poised to emerge as an important literary voice. There are glimpses of her genius in Great House, but the promise is not fully realized.
Great House is not too my taste.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
On Djibouti, Unbroken, Room, Lord of Misrule and Moonlight Mile

Detroit, Vegas, Miami, even Oklahoma, but Djibouti?
The setting is off in Elmore Leonard's newest novel. Way off.
And as a result, nothing really works. Not the snappy dialogue. Or the oh-so cool characters. This one wrong note -- a really loud note -- reverberates throughout the entire symphony.
We find ourselves in Djibouti following an Oscar-winning filmmaker and her assistant who have arrived to do a documentary on pirates. But at some point the novel becomes a story about an American-born al qaeda sympathizer who plans to blown up a freighter. Soon after the clinker becomes a clunker.
Sorry, Dutch, but Oklahoma should remain your most exotic setting.

Critics everywhere should thank Laura Hillenbrand. She just made the job of assembling our list of The Best Books of 2010 easier.
Unbroken has secured a place on my list without breaking a sweat.
Unbroken is the story of Louie Zamperini. A California native, Zamperini was the highest American finisher in the 5,000 meter run at the Berlin Olympics. His Olympic dreams are ended when, with the outbreak of World War II, he finds himself on the crew of a bomber in the Pacific.
Zamperini's plane is shot down. He and the pilot survive harrowing weeks on a disintegrating raft only to become prisoners of the Japanese. His life as a prisoner of war is marked by brutality, terror and humiliation.
Even when the war ends, and Zamperini is freed, his struggles are not over. Plagued by nightmares and a deep-rooted anger, Zamperini finds consolation in alcohol. He drifts from job to job and his marriage is falling apart.
Enter a young Billy Graham. Strong-armed into attending Graham's tent revival by his wife, Zamperini remembers a promise he made to God were he to survive the war. The sub-title captures the essence of Zamperini's experience -- survival, resilience and redemption.
Were it a movie of the week, it would seem too hackneyed, too earnest, too predictable to be true. But in Hillenbrand's hands Zamperini's story is none of these things. Instead, it soars. Hillenbrand is easily one of the finest storytellers, working in non-fiction, today and Unbroken is easily among the best books of this or any other year.

I was skeptical. There were too many glowing reviews, too many bookstore clerks telling me "I loved this book," too many friends asking, "Have you read it?"
The answer is an enthusiastic yes, I have read it. And I love this book, too.
Here's what I admire most about it -- Donoghue has created a work of singular invention. There aren't a hand full of writers who could pull off this high wire act. The wise wouldn't try.
Room is a powerful work of the imagination and a tribute to the power of a mother's love to nurture a child amid a daunting and horrific situation.

Lord of Misrule is a horse. One of many that appears in this award-winning novel about a down-at-its-heels West Virginia racetrack. It is no mistake that Gordon's novel draws its title from a horse named after the individual selected to rule over the annual Christmas Feast of Fools.
With each section, framed by a horse race, we are introduced to new characters and to new horses, who are also important characters in this novel of greed and ambition and hope. Lord of Misrule is a finely layered novel of nuance and observation (of people and horses). It manages to be both elegant and coarse in the way of horses and horse people.
I greatly enjoy, and value, novels that take me into a unexplored world. I have watched horse races at Keeneland in Lexington, Kentucky. Bet on their outcome. Taken my lunch -- slumming, really -- in the track kitchen. And I have always known that immediately at hand, and yet light years distant, was another world.
Gordon shares that world with the reader in Lord of Misrule.
I have yet to read the other four books that made the shortlist for the National Book Award. Even once I have read those books I may not have a clear idea of which book, among the five, was the best.
I do know that Lord of Misrule is a deserving winner for its authenticity and the quality of its writing.

Thank you, Dennis Lehane. For years I have requested that you write a sequel to your novels featuring Kenzie and Gennaro. I liked Mystic River, but Shutter (Shudder?) Island and The Given Day felt flat.
Now, in Moonlight Mile, not only are Kenzie and Gennaro back, but they revisit their most famous case -- the disappearance of Amanda McCready from Gone Baby Gone.
It is more than I dared ask for, and the book does not disappoint. It is a terrific read because of your sense of setting and the characters that populate this novel. Kenzie and Gennaro (now Kenzie, herself) are intriguing characters filled with doubt and imperfections and moral certainties they find troubling.
Moonlight Mile can be read as a finale for these two characters. I hope that is not the case, but if it is, you have left me satisfied as a reader and a fan.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Is The Reversal Connelly's best book?
Is The Reversal Michael Connelly's best book?
If it is -- and it may well be -- that's saying something. Connelly has been at the top of his game a long time. Most writers lost their snap this many books into their career, but Connelly keeps it fresh.
The Reversal features Connelly's two leading characters -- Harry Bosch, the tough-as-nails L.A. homicide detective, and Mickey Haller, the defense attorney whose is office is the backseat of his Lincoln.
The novel is part courtroom drama, part police procedural. An appeals court has kicked the conviction of Jason Jessup, who has been in prison for 24 years for the murder of a 12-year-old girl. A DNA sample on the victim's dress doesn't belong to Jessup.
Soon Jessup is headed back to L.A. to face a new trial. Haller is enlisted to serve as a special prosecutor in the case. In turn, he recruits Bosch to serve as special investigator.
On its surface, there isn't anything to the story you haven't read before or seen in the movies or on a bad TV show. But Connelly, with great pacing, vivid scenes and characters who jump off the page, transcends the genre. This is a book, a story, that compels you to read it and it's a damn gripping read.
The question remains: Is The Reversal Connelly's best book? At least, until his next book is released the answer is yes.
.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Leavy reveals the man behind the myth in The Last Boy
Bed wetter. Womanizer. Alcoholic.
Mickey Mantle was all these things. He was also -- for all too brief a time -- the finest baseball player in the game. No one could hit the ball farther or harder than the kid from Commerce. He ran the bases faster than anyone and, if he was a so-so fielder, he ran down balls that others could only dream of reaching.
His radiant smile, chiseled body, tousled blonde hair and an easy, unforced modesty that led him to keep his head down as he rounded the bases after another home run, made him one of the most popular men in the game, among both players and the fans. Mickey was an icon.
Jane Leavy explores the reality behind the icon in her book, The Last Boy. This is a much different biography than the one she wrote on Sandy Koufax in 2002. That was an elegant book, but Koufax was an elegant man. The Last Boy is a coarser work, because Mantle could be, was, a coarse man.
Leavy's biography of the Oklahoma great invokes laughter in one passage and sadness in the next. She is unsparing in serving up details that strip away the facade created by Yankee publicists and an uncritical press, allowing us to see Mantle as man rather than myth. Fragile. Vulnerable. Crude.
If The Last Boy is not as fine a work as Sandy Koufax, it is a necessary one. Leavy allows us to see all of Mantle's greatness and all his faults. In doing so, she leaves us with the portrait of a man that we can continue to admire, yet also pity.
Book 97: Worth Dying For by Lee Child
Bad guys. Really bad guys. A cowed Nebraska farming community. A half-dozen hoods from Las Vegas. And Jack Reacher.
This isn't a spoiler, but Reacher walks away in the end. The bad guys aren't so lucky.
That's all you need to know about Worth Dying For. That and it's a quick, fun read.
Thursday, November 04, 2010
Bacigalupi's The Windup Girl is a sensation
Book 93: Our Kind of Traitor by John le Carre
The middle ground is occupied by John le Carre, who is still writing about Russians. But these days, the Russians are international criminals rather than espionage agents. That distinction alone means that Our Kind of Traitor will emerge as a disappointment to some readers.
One wonders why le Carre, in these recent books, has not returned to the past. Surely there are more stories to tell of Smiley and Karla or, at least, men and women similar to these two adversaries that lived among le Carre's best work.
One wonders, but one knows the answer. Le Carre's conscience leads him to write about the times we inhabit now. Times that he finds so lacking in moral fiber or integrity. He has, for example, explored the baseness and greed that motivate the pharmaceutical giants. In Our Kind of Traitor he casts an angry eye upon governments and politicians who have grown cozy with international criminals.
Our Kind of Traitor is an entertaining work. Le Carre's skills as a storyteller have been finely honed through years of writing. It is amazing to observe how much of this novel is confined to dialogue amid ill lit rooms inside safe houses and yet le Carre creates a skein of tension that slowly builds to a conclusion that, if not entirely satisfying, is entirely true to its tale.

Sadly, because I so enjoyed Swanson's Manhunt about the 12-day search for Lincoln's killer, I find Bloody Crimes a bloody disappointment.
The two stories, Lincoln's death pageant and the search for Jefferson Davis, the President of the Confederacy, do not work well in parallel.
The story of Lincoln's death pageant is a dry recitation of logistics that could have been summarized in a magazine article. The search for Davis is a compelling story that warranted its own book.
Book 95: The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi

Comparisons have been made to the early work of William Gibson. Those comparisons are apt. Like Gibson, Bacigalupi takes the stuff of today and envisions a future so close to hand that the reader can almost touch it. And in creating this future, Bacigalupi fashions a story that is visionary and immediate and frightening.
We can smell the stink of tomorrow.
The stink from over-ripe durians rotting on a vendor's cart. And the stink from greedy men unleashing genetic havoc upon an unsuspecting earth.
The Windup Girl is set in Krung Thep (Bangkok). The earth's rising seas are held at bay by makeshift dikes. Chesires, a breed of genetically manipulated cats that wink in and out of one's vision, prowl the dark alleys. Men and women fear blister rust and genehacked weevils. Seed banks are guarded as we once guarded the gold of Fort Knox.
Bacigalupi weaves a wondrous tale of competing interests. Virtually everyone is corrupt and everyone is scrabbling just to remain a live. The narrative is gripping, but it is the future -- gene ripped and gene hacked and a little mad --which Bacigalupi envisions that is so compelling.
That and the windup girl of the title. Emiko is a creche grown member of the New People. Not human, better in most ways. She's fighting for her life and dignity against overwhelming odds. The windup girls makes for an unlikely hero in this gripping story of a future that's feels all to near.