Book Log 2013 #17: Visit Sunny Chernobyl by Andrew Blackwell

In the vein of Assassination Vacation and similar offbeat travel books, Blackwell visits the sites of various environmental disasters in this book, ranging from the radioactive wasteland of Chernobyl to the refinery-laden town of Port Arthur, Texas to the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. It's a pretty interesting read, as the author enters each trip with the expectation of a hellish deathscape, but then has to confront the complexities of each disaster, mostly when dealing with the locals, who are often trying to balance living in or near an ecological nightmare with making a living off of same. And for all of the damage caused, there's a lot about these locations that are banal, from the bland corporatism of the mining company pulling oil sands out of Alberta to the somewhat pointless study voyages out to the garbage patch.

We also get a sort of B-plot of the author's relationship with his girlfriend/fiancee, the ebb and flow of which tends to mirror the time and distance the author spends traveling. It's not overbearing, and helps to break up the travel.

It's been a while since I've read this, and I do remember thinking at times that in some cases the author may have been trying a little too hard to be balanced in some areas, but I'll be damned if I can remember a specific instance. So it may just be me. Anyway, certainly worth a look.

Book Log 2013 #16: Exploding the Phone by Phil Lapsley

For every technology, there's someone who is going to hack it. That's most obvious with computers, but for any technology you can name you'll find someone who is going to put the full weight of their intellect behind getting to know it and doing all sorts of things to see what it can do. This is no less true of the phone system, which for two or three decades in the mid-20th century found itself at the mercy of a group of dedicated phone enthusiasts (or phreakers).

The folks at Bell didn't anticipate this. So as they developed the phone system, they did it in a way that wasn't particularly secure. They also made a lot of their technical information available in journals and other publications. As the phreakers discovered the system's vulnerabilities, and plumbed the available information to develop ways to make the system work for them (most notably the blue and red boxes that let people make free calls), Bell reacted by using the power of a large corporation (allied with the power of government and law enforcement) to go after the phreakers while trying to implement fixes (which were often costly and time-consuming).

That pursuit of the phreakers takes up much of the last half of the book, and is decidedly less interesting than the stories of the phreakers. That really makes the book, and while it's not always easy to identify with the phreakers, they are generally presented as more than the expected stereotype. The stories of how phreaking entered the general populace - and may have had a hand in bringing about the personal computer revolution - carry the book. Definitely worth a read.

Book Log 2013 #15: Birdseye by Mark Kurlansky

Every family seems to have a story about a lost opportunity to make a fortune, from stock advice not taken to real estate investments not made. In my family, there was talk about how my grandparents knew Clarence Birdseye and failed to get involved at the ground floor of his frozen food business. I don't know how much truth there is to the story, but I can remember Birdseye's name coming up regularly around the dinner table when we'd visit. Which explains why I was drawn to this biography of the man a little more than I may have been normally.

The biggest problem with writing this biography appears to have been the lack of source material, as most (if not all) of the people who knew Birdseye are now dead, and there's less documentation - letters, articles, and the like - than one might expect. Though that seems typical for the Birdseye presented here, an inveterate tinkerer whose wandering mind and taste for the outdoors makes him less likely to spend time scribbling at a journal or engaging in voluminous correspondence.

Birdseye is painted here as one of the last of a vanishing breed, a self-taught man who uses observation and experience to solve problems. His "invention" of frozen food came out of observations while living in Canada, where the need to stock up for winter (and the presence of naturally frozen food thanks to long and bitterly cold winters) led him to consider frozen food as an everyday thing.

Kurlansky did a good job of providing a biography out of the available material, and the theme of Birdseye as one of the last great tinkerers is quite apt. I wouldn't say it's presented as a bad thing, but more as an observation on how much more interesting the world was when there were people like Birdseye around. A sentiment with which I'd agree.

Book Log 2013 Extra: The Most Famous Book Set in Each US State

The folks at Business Insider came up with this map of the US that gives the most famous book set in each state. There's no real discussion of how they came up with these selections, and in a number of cases there's a real question as to whether on not they chose correctly. Those that stand out to me:

Arkansas: A Painted House. OK, it's hard to argue that a John Grisham book wouldn't be famous, but it's not exactly the first (or second, or fifth) book of his you'd name if asked to name one. True Grit would seem more popular (thanks mostly to the films), and for people of a certain generation Summer of My German Solider would be an option, too.

Connecticut: Revolutionary Road. Maybe it's a little on the nose, but what about A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court?. There's also Long Day's Journey into Night and Ah, Wilderness!, both of which may have been dinged for being plays. And if the only criteria is fame, perhaps The Stepford Wives would be a contender thanks to its movie adaptations (I'm assuming that the movie adaptation of Revolutionary Road helped get it here). Although if we're really only considering fame, wouldn't The Baby-sitter's Club be the obvious choice?

District of Columbia: The Lost Symbol. See, this is where using fame as your sole criteria breaks down. This isn't even Dan Brown's most famous book, and even for him it was pretty much crap. Why you wouldn't go with one of the Alex Cross novels here? Either Along Came a Spider or Kiss The Girls would work.

Also, if you're going to include DC in the list, how about putting it in its proper place alphabetically rather than sneaking it in after Virginia?

Louisiana: Interview With the Vampire. Uh, Uncle Tom's Cabin?

Maine: Carrie. There are any number of Stephen King novels you could choose here, but as King was already selected for Colorado (The Shining), we could go with The Cider House Rules here. Which would give John Irving two entries (for now). As I think of it, Empire Falls may be a better choice.

Massachusetts: Walden. Considering it's almost impossible to get out of high school without reading either The Scarlet Letter or Little Women, I'd have chosen either of them over Walden, which is plenty famous in its own right, obviously.

New Hampshire: The Hotel New Hampshire. Having the state in the title helps, but I'd go with A Prayer for Owen Meany. Were this 20 years ago I'd also suggest Peyton Place.

New Mexico: Red Sky at Morning. I'll admit to never having heard of this book, and while it's possible I'm out of the loop on this one, I would still argue that Death Comes for the Archbishop is a better choice.

North Carolina: A Walk to Remember. Probably correct (the most likely replacement would be another Nicholas Sparks book) but depressing. I'll throw Cold Mountain out there as an option.

Ohio: The Broom of the System. Beloved, The Bluest Eye, Captain Underpants and Winesburg, Ohio would all seem like more natural choices than David Foster Wallace's first novel, at least if we're going by fame.

South Carolina: The Secret Life of Bees. Helped by its recent movie adaptation, but I'm wondering if The Prince of Tides would be a better choice.

I could probably critique every selection, but I think I'll quit while I'm ahead.

Book Log 2013 #14: 1356 by Bernard Cornwell

Thomas of Hookton, the main character of the Grail Quest trilogy, returns in this book which is skips ahead from the last book in that series to the time right before the Battle of Poitiers. Thomas leads a group of mercenaries who, while in the service of a noble, are mostly allowed to operate independently.

As was the case in the first three books, Thomas becomes embroiled in the search for a religious relic, in this case la Malice, the sword St. Peter used to slice off the ear of the high priest's servant at Gethsemane. Both the English and the French are hunting for the sword, as it's believe that the side which possesses the sword will win what we now know as the Battle of Poitiers, a major battle of the Hundred Years' War.

As you'd expect, there are corrupt churchmen, cruel nobles, and a variety of fighting men who all add their particular color to the hunt for the sword and the eventual battle. But the actual story, the search for this sword, didn't do much for me, and I kind of felt like the book was forced a bit. I'd have rather had the book begin to explain how Thomas would become the "lord of a thousand acres" that's mentioned in Agincourt than go on another religious treasure hunt.