Book Log 2011 #22: 1942 by James Conroy

When Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, there was a plan for a third wave of attacks against stores of fuel and torpedoes, as well as on facilities like dry docks. The leadership passed on making the attack, but in this book Conroy surmises what would have happened if they had made the attack.


The success of the third wave strike leads to the occupation of Hawaii (which is required if you're writing an alternative history of Pearl Harbor), but in the chaos of invasion not all of the American military are accounted for, and in this case the group of fighters who withdraw into the mountains and smaller, poorly patrolled smaller islands do what they can while waiting to help the inevitable counterstrike.

I had some conflicting feelings about the book, and when this happens I'll look at other reviews to see if they can provide some clarity. And they did, in one respect: I did not hate this book as much as some people did. I do agree that the characters were not particularly well developed, and I also found the ending stretched credulity. This wouldn't be the first alternative history to have these problems, so I may be less attentive to them than others.

All that being said, I did find this book more enjoyable in some aspects than Harry Turtledove's two book treatment of a Hawaiian invasion, if only because I found Turtledove's approach too broad (too many characters) and repetitive (if there was a drinking game for the books, the phrase "sketching a salute" would lead to widespread alcohol poisoning). Overall, 1942 is flawed but worth a look if you're into alt history.

Book Log 2011 #20: In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan

The follow-up to The Omnivore's Dilemma, this book looks back to see how we got to the point where most of what we eat isn't so much food as is it processed or engineered nutritional inputs, vitamin and mineral delivery systems that are increasingly unrelated to what you or I, based on common sense, would consider food. The early part of the book gives a good overview at how nutritional science has been used to facilitate this change.

From this, Pollan devises his seven word rule for eating: eat food, not too much, mostly plants, and spends most of the rest of the book talking about what this means and how to do it (which he also does in a more practical manner in his most recent book, Food Rules).

Throughout the book the writing is crisp, clear and engaging. It's very much worth reading.

I can't say I watched much of today's commemorative coverage, and really I've felt disconnected to the whole 10th anniversary thing. It's not an emotional thing - I made my peace with what happened a long time ago - and it's not necessarily a reaction to the amount or tone of coverage, as I expected the coverage to be (a) voluminous and (b) occasionally to often over the top. I will say that what I did see was tastefully done, so thanks to all who were responsible for that.

So how to explain my disconnect? I think it comes from a place where I just want us to move on. I know it's ridiculous to feel this way on what is one of those hallmark anniversary dates, but I can't quite get past the idea that, 10 years on, we should take what happened, draw whatever conclusions we can from it, and look to creating a future which will, hopefully, allow us to avoid a repeat of the past.

It's entirely appropriate for people to be emotional and want to look back, but I have no interest in sharing a "do you remember where you were when you heard" sort of story. I want us to realize we have something great here, and that we need to do what we can - in a sensible and forward-thinking way - to preserve it. This isn't something we've always done over the last ten years, but I can hope that we'll do better over the next ten.

I suppose this gives short shrift to the people who died that day and their families, friends, and co-workers, and I don't intend that. I just like to think that we can take their examples and live with them every day, drawing strength from them even when the tendency is there to wallow in the negative. But I know that days like today are going to be reflective and often involve tears, and I hope that helps people get through the day. But I also hope that we can get through all of the days by remembering who we are and the examples of the people who died in the hopes of letting us keep being who we are.

So here's why I'm not voting for Rick Perry. As has been widely noted, Perry issued a proclamation asking Texans to pray for rain, and I figure he did his fair share of praying as well. The result? An ongoing drought, a massive rainmaker taunting the state from just beyond its borders, and wildfires.The way I look at it, if God is going to foresake Perry, I may as well, too.

Book Log 2011 #20: Our Kind of Traitor by John Le Carre

This latest outing finds a British couple recruited by some arm of the intelligence community to help in the defection of a top money launderer for the Russian mob. The couple, a university professor and barrister, are rank novices but are game to help, and thanks to the shared love of tennis between the couple and the Russian, we're off and running.

The New York Times review of the book noted that the story, while set in the present, trades in many of the spy novel tropes of the Cold War, and while there's a truth to it I think the review doesn't fully attribute the reason for it. The review suggests that Le Carre, while as strong a writer as ever, is stuck in presenting his story in this sort of worldview. I think there's some truth in that, but also ascribe it to the nature of the characters. Several of the agents are longer-term employees, and as such were reared in the Cold War-era spy game. Their actions and thinking would, to some extent, be stuck in that period. It would be as much of a mistake to have all of the agents be postmodern 24-style homeland security types as if they were all James Bond.

All that being said, I enjoyed this as much as any of Le Carre's post-Cold War novels.

Book Log 2011 #19: The World is a Ball by John Doyle

John Doyle has what might be my dream job. He gets to travel to major soccer competitions and report on them, sometimes as a sporting event but more often on the other aspects of the games and/or event (personal, social, political, etc.). I should also note his full-time job is as a newspaper TV critic. I think he really does have my dream job.

Not that it's all a dream. The travel is punishing, the accommodations marginals, and the isolation often maddening. Even so, what comes through clearly is that the payoff for these irritations - between seeing games, meeting fans, and going to places that might otherwise have gone unvisited - is well worth it.

And for all that Doyle isn't a sports reporter, he does a nice job of talking about the players and games in layman's terms, making it easy for a casual but long-time fan of the game to follow along. He also manages to sell his main point about these contests - how the joy of the experience transcends the day to day problems people face - effectively, better than I expected and better than your usual book about the transcendental nature of sports.

A worthy read for the novice and intermediate soccer fan.