Book Log 2011 #33: The Holy Thief by William Ryan
A Stalin-era cop gets a case where a woman is found murdered on an altar in a church that's now a youth center. As he gets into the case, it becomes obvious that the case involves high-ranking members of various military and intelligence services. Warned off the case, he continues anyway, getting help from the local crime syndicate and writer Isaac Babel.
This isn't the most surprising premise for a historical mystery - it sometimes seems like there wasn't a killing before World War II that didn't involve a far-reaching conspiracy - but it's a pretty decent example of the type. Not the greatest, and apparently involving some glaring errors where this era of Soviet history is involved (this from a review written by a Russian expert in the New York Times), but it's not bad. I'd certainly keep up with things if it becomes a series.
14 December 2011
13 December 2011
Book Log 2011 #32: Eat My Globe by Simon Majumdar
When Majumdar hit 40, he rediscovered a list of life goals that included going everywhere and eating everything. Bored with his job, he set out on a year-long trip around the globe to do just that, hitting over 30 countries to eat what the locals eat. Consider it a male version of Eat, Pray, Love, just without the praying or the loving.
There's great fun in seeing Majumdar wade right into the cultures and foods of all his stops, though the entries for some stops were too short for my taste (although necessary, as the book would be about 800 pages if all of the stops got a full treatment). He also reflects on his family, most notably his brother and mother, and how food was a central focus for them. While he ascribes this to the Indian side of the family, I wonder if there's an English aspect to this, as my English relatives have a similar focus on food (for examples, recollections of past vacations tend to be defined by meals or visits to markets).
Anyway, liked this one quite a bit, even if it did make me jealous.
When Majumdar hit 40, he rediscovered a list of life goals that included going everywhere and eating everything. Bored with his job, he set out on a year-long trip around the globe to do just that, hitting over 30 countries to eat what the locals eat. Consider it a male version of Eat, Pray, Love, just without the praying or the loving.
There's great fun in seeing Majumdar wade right into the cultures and foods of all his stops, though the entries for some stops were too short for my taste (although necessary, as the book would be about 800 pages if all of the stops got a full treatment). He also reflects on his family, most notably his brother and mother, and how food was a central focus for them. While he ascribes this to the Indian side of the family, I wonder if there's an English aspect to this, as my English relatives have a similar focus on food (for examples, recollections of past vacations tend to be defined by meals or visits to markets).
Anyway, liked this one quite a bit, even if it did make me jealous.
12 December 2011
Book Log 2011 #31: The Third Miracle by Bill Briggs
In 2001, the caretaker of an Indiana convent stopped into a chapel and asked God to help heal his eye, which was responding poorly to a previous surgery. He wasn't a Catholic - not even really religious - but he figured it couldn't hurt to ask. The next morning he woke up and found his eye had improved greatly, without any medical intervention. While you or I might call that a miracle, the nuns at the convent used that term much more seriously, as they thought that this would be the thing that would finally get their founder's case for sainthood approved.
This book tells the story of the founder, Mother Theodore, and the process by which the Catholic church names saints. Both are interesting tales in their own right; Mother Theodore established her convent in Indiana at a time where people in general were thin on the ground, never mind Catholics, while the process of naming a saint is replete with the political and legal hurdles one might expect and the personal struggles - within the mind of the handyman, the nuns of the convent, and so on up the line - one might not expect.
As much as the average person tends to think that the church and science are always at odds, this book does suggest that the role of science, at least in the case of investigating potential saints, is pretty large. Much of the investigation into the miracle involves talking with doctors and reviewing the case files to see just how likely it is that the healing resulted from medicine.
If this sort of thing interests you, this is a book you'll want to read. The story is engaging, well-written and balanced. Briggs doesn't normally write about religion, and I think that helps him avoid forcing the story into a pro- or anti-sainthood slant. He just reports the story, gives us the facts and the feelings of those involved, and allows us to make a decision on sainthood in the modern age.
Book Log 2011 #30: The Spies of Warsaw by Alan Furst
Liking The Spies of the Balkans, I picked up this previous book set in Poland in 1937. The French military attache finds himself stuck in the middle of events, paying lip service to his country's commitment to Poland while acknowledging that in the case of a German invasion, Poland will need to stand on its own. The attache does work to help the Poles (and the French) understand German capabilities and Polish defenses, all in the face of the onslaught that everyone knows is coming.
As with the other book, the man in the middle also gets into a personal entanglement, as he develops a relationship with a Polish attorney who is herself mixed up with a Soviet reporter who may or may not be in trouble with the folks at home.
And, as with the other book, Furst creates a great story that balances the plot lines skillfully and uses period detail to great effect. While I am concerned that all of his books use the same template and thus will become less interesting the more of them I read, it's a chance worth taking.
Liking The Spies of the Balkans, I picked up this previous book set in Poland in 1937. The French military attache finds himself stuck in the middle of events, paying lip service to his country's commitment to Poland while acknowledging that in the case of a German invasion, Poland will need to stand on its own. The attache does work to help the Poles (and the French) understand German capabilities and Polish defenses, all in the face of the onslaught that everyone knows is coming.
As with the other book, the man in the middle also gets into a personal entanglement, as he develops a relationship with a Polish attorney who is herself mixed up with a Soviet reporter who may or may not be in trouble with the folks at home.
And, as with the other book, Furst creates a great story that balances the plot lines skillfully and uses period detail to great effect. While I am concerned that all of his books use the same template and thus will become less interesting the more of them I read, it's a chance worth taking.
11 December 2011
Book Log 2011 #29: Endgame by Frank Brady
Most people know two things about chess prodigy Bobby Fischer: he was world chess champion at some point and, in his later years, he was an American Jew who very publicly hated America and Jews. His genius - and his madness - were fodder for all types, and in this biography Frank Brady does his best - as both a writer about chess and as someone who knew Fischer for most of his life - to untangle the threads of Fischer's life as best he can.
That's kind of a thankless task. While there are clear markers for some changes - such as when Fischer stopped being the young, carefree wunderkind and started to wear suits and speak more critically of pretty much everything - there are other changes, from Fischer's reclusive period in the 1980s and '90s to his turn as an international pariah - that are harder to explain. And to Brady's credit, he doesn't try to pull the pop psychology nonsense that other writers would. Instead, he relies on his own life in chess and his personal contact with Fischer and others who were close to Fischer to fashion best guesses where he can.
The book is written so that someone with almost no chess knowledge can follow, and is engaging enough that the lack of technical information is not missed. Brady's portrait of Fischer illustrates the complexities of the man without being too sentimental or critical, and his refusal to play what-if keeps the book on a solid factual footing. A great read for anyone who is interested in Fischer or who want to get some insight as to what can turn a genius into a madman.
Most people know two things about chess prodigy Bobby Fischer: he was world chess champion at some point and, in his later years, he was an American Jew who very publicly hated America and Jews. His genius - and his madness - were fodder for all types, and in this biography Frank Brady does his best - as both a writer about chess and as someone who knew Fischer for most of his life - to untangle the threads of Fischer's life as best he can.
That's kind of a thankless task. While there are clear markers for some changes - such as when Fischer stopped being the young, carefree wunderkind and started to wear suits and speak more critically of pretty much everything - there are other changes, from Fischer's reclusive period in the 1980s and '90s to his turn as an international pariah - that are harder to explain. And to Brady's credit, he doesn't try to pull the pop psychology nonsense that other writers would. Instead, he relies on his own life in chess and his personal contact with Fischer and others who were close to Fischer to fashion best guesses where he can.
The book is written so that someone with almost no chess knowledge can follow, and is engaging enough that the lack of technical information is not missed. Brady's portrait of Fischer illustrates the complexities of the man without being too sentimental or critical, and his refusal to play what-if keeps the book on a solid factual footing. A great read for anyone who is interested in Fischer or who want to get some insight as to what can turn a genius into a madman.
Book Log 2011 #28: Spies of the Balkans by Alan Furst
In the early days of World War II, Greece remains stubbornly independent, waiting for the inevitable German invasion. A police detective in Salonika finds himself made the department's fixer, answering the call for the difficult cases that require more tact than procedure. He's good at it, and it helps keep the war at bay.
His skills are noted by his British girlfriend, nominally a ballet teacher whose return to the UK is followed by the appearance of a man who is nominally a travel writer, who approaches the detective to help set up a way to get persons threatened by the Nazi policy towards Jews to a safer residence in Turkey. This requires all of the detective's skill and nerve, as it becomes increasingly more difficult to move between countries and make the arrangements to keep this underground railroad going.
On top of this, the detective has to keep an eye on him family so he can get them out of the city before the Germans arrive. And for good measure he enters into a relationship with the wife of the city's largest shipping magnate, a man of some power. The marriage is loveless, and the detective vows to save her - from both the Germans and her husband.
Few novels about World War II take place in the Balkans, so it's refreshing to have one set there. The espionage plot line is the better of the two, both in the way the refugee pipeline is run and in how Greeks were preparing for war. The romantic subplot is not as interesting, and from what I've read it's more awkward here than in other novels by Furst, who typically weaves a romantic subplot into his books.
I don't know how this one compares to those other books. but it's worth a read. It's on the short side, flows well, and has a well-drawn main character, so even when it's not at its best it's pretty good.
In the early days of World War II, Greece remains stubbornly independent, waiting for the inevitable German invasion. A police detective in Salonika finds himself made the department's fixer, answering the call for the difficult cases that require more tact than procedure. He's good at it, and it helps keep the war at bay.
His skills are noted by his British girlfriend, nominally a ballet teacher whose return to the UK is followed by the appearance of a man who is nominally a travel writer, who approaches the detective to help set up a way to get persons threatened by the Nazi policy towards Jews to a safer residence in Turkey. This requires all of the detective's skill and nerve, as it becomes increasingly more difficult to move between countries and make the arrangements to keep this underground railroad going.
On top of this, the detective has to keep an eye on him family so he can get them out of the city before the Germans arrive. And for good measure he enters into a relationship with the wife of the city's largest shipping magnate, a man of some power. The marriage is loveless, and the detective vows to save her - from both the Germans and her husband.
Few novels about World War II take place in the Balkans, so it's refreshing to have one set there. The espionage plot line is the better of the two, both in the way the refugee pipeline is run and in how Greeks were preparing for war. The romantic subplot is not as interesting, and from what I've read it's more awkward here than in other novels by Furst, who typically weaves a romantic subplot into his books.
I don't know how this one compares to those other books. but it's worth a read. It's on the short side, flows well, and has a well-drawn main character, so even when it's not at its best it's pretty good.
Book Log 2011 #27: Limitations by Scott Turow
A criminal defense attorney turned judge, George Mason is already juggling his wife's cancer battle and the appearance of threatening emails when a notable rape case lands on his docket. This leads him to reconsider his life, most specifically his role as a judge and lawyer, as current events and past experiences come too close for comfort.
Originally a story written for the New York Times Magazine, this is an expanded version of the story, albeit one that is more of a long novella than a full-fledged novel. This is only a problem in that we get less of Turow's great writing and less time with George Mason, an ancillary character in previous novels whose personal life (and turmoil) is barely hinted at, if even that, before now.
I would say that this is Turow's most introspective novel, as while there is an external thrillerish plot line with the emails, it's really about Mason's inner struggle to find his place in his profession (with wider considerations about the law and lawyering in general). It's easily as good as Turow's other legal writings, and well worth reading.
A criminal defense attorney turned judge, George Mason is already juggling his wife's cancer battle and the appearance of threatening emails when a notable rape case lands on his docket. This leads him to reconsider his life, most specifically his role as a judge and lawyer, as current events and past experiences come too close for comfort.
Originally a story written for the New York Times Magazine, this is an expanded version of the story, albeit one that is more of a long novella than a full-fledged novel. This is only a problem in that we get less of Turow's great writing and less time with George Mason, an ancillary character in previous novels whose personal life (and turmoil) is barely hinted at, if even that, before now.
I would say that this is Turow's most introspective novel, as while there is an external thrillerish plot line with the emails, it's really about Mason's inner struggle to find his place in his profession (with wider considerations about the law and lawyering in general). It's easily as good as Turow's other legal writings, and well worth reading.
01 December 2011
Book Log 2011 #26: Resistance by Owen Sheers
A successful German invasion of Britain during World War II leads the men of a remove Welsh valley to leave their homes under the cover of night to become guerilla fighters. This leaves the women of the valley, not told of their menfolk's plans, to do the best they can to keep their farms and herds going. On top of that, a unit of Germans has taken up residence in the valley to keep an eye on things. They're led by an officer with his own agenda, searching for an ancient map.
While the set-up suggests alt-history, the story is really about the people in the valley and the various levels of resistance they try to put up. There are the women, who resist telling the Germans the truth about their men. Then there are the Germans, who are trying to resist re-entering the war by keeping a low profile. The main characters, a young wife and the leader of the Germans, also work to resist each other. As they grow closer they share their resistance, trying to find a way out of their predicaments.
I was expecting more of an alt-history, but once I shifted focus I enjoyed this book quite a bit.
A successful German invasion of Britain during World War II leads the men of a remove Welsh valley to leave their homes under the cover of night to become guerilla fighters. This leaves the women of the valley, not told of their menfolk's plans, to do the best they can to keep their farms and herds going. On top of that, a unit of Germans has taken up residence in the valley to keep an eye on things. They're led by an officer with his own agenda, searching for an ancient map.
While the set-up suggests alt-history, the story is really about the people in the valley and the various levels of resistance they try to put up. There are the women, who resist telling the Germans the truth about their men. Then there are the Germans, who are trying to resist re-entering the war by keeping a low profile. The main characters, a young wife and the leader of the Germans, also work to resist each other. As they grow closer they share their resistance, trying to find a way out of their predicaments.
I was expecting more of an alt-history, but once I shifted focus I enjoyed this book quite a bit.
30 November 2011
Back when it looked like we may not get NFL action this year, I wrote a post about replacing the pro teams with the "best" college team that shared their nickname (or coming up with something fitting if no one shared the nickname).
I didn't do this for the NBA because (a) I don't follow basketball as closely as I do football, and (b) I forgot that I'd done that for the NFL. But, for completeness' sake, here's what I'd come up with for the NBA. Just without most of the exposition, because that NFL post is long.
Atlantic Division
Carlow University for the Boston Celtics - Carlow, located in Pittsburgh, is a graduate school that gets to play in the NAIA. Their basketball team plays at a local high school.
Farleigh-Dickinson University for the New Jersey Nets - no colleges use Nets or Americans, the team's first name. So as they originally played in Teaneck, I went with the one school located in Teaneck.
Union College for the New York Knicks - no Knicks or Knickerbockers, so as that was a name for the area's Dutch settlers, I went for the Dutchmen.
UNC-Charlotte for the Philadelphia '76ers - no '76ers in the college ranks, so I went with the closest number I could find - the '49ers.
Bard College for the Toronto Raptors - hey, someone else really liked Jurassic Park!
Central Division
University of Buffalo for the Chicago Bulls - South Florida plays in a better conference but is almost always under .500, so we go with the MAC.
University of Virginia for the Cleveland Cavaliers - with the added benefit of going back to the orange and blue unis.
Murray State University for the Detroit Pistons - no Pistons, nothing really car-related out there for nicknames, so thinking about what people do with cars I went with the Racers.
University of South Carolina - Aiken for the Indiana Pacers - the younger Pacers have been making the D2 playoffs of late, which is more than you can say for the NBA version.
Fairfield University for the Milwaukee Bucks - no Bucks in the college game, and Ohio State seemed like cheating as buckeyes have nothing to do with deer. So I went with the Stags.
Southeast Division
St. Joseph's University for the Atlanta Hawks - plenty of schools to choose from, but not at the same level.
Montana State University for the Carolina Bobcats - I have no idea if they're the best team with the nickname (I suppose Quinnipiac may be better?), but they seem like they're the best of the bunch. Plus Craig Kilborne used to play for them. Remember him?
Liberty University for the Miami Heat - no school is dumb enough to use Heat as a nickname, so as there are flames on their unis I went with the schools with that as a nickname. I suppose UIC might be better, but I tend to remember seeing Liberty in my NCAA bracket more recently. I could be making that up.
LeMoyne-Owens College for the Orlando Magic - no school is dumb enough to use Magic as a nickname, but there is one that uses Magicians.
Gettysburg College for the Washington Wizards - no Wizards on the college level, but one Bullets.
Northwest Divison
University of Texas-El Paso for the Denver Nuggets - no Nuggets, go with the guys who find them.
Northwood University for the Minnesota Timberwolves - which is unfortunate, as I really wanted to use the Colorado State-Pueblo Thunderwolves. Apparently, adding "Thunder" to your nickname is the 2000s equivalent of the 1980s/90s practice of sneaking black into your uniform.
Wheaton College for the Oklahoma City Thunder - that's the Wheaton in Illinois, just in case Anne Curry is reading.
Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts for the Portland Trail Blazers - and easy call, as the nicknames match and both are in the woods.
Oklahoma City University for the Utah Jazz - no Jazz, so I went with the Stars based on Utah's ABA franchise. Not related, but easier than coming up with something else.
Pacific Division
University of Hawaii for the Golden State Warriors - I expect the team to revolt when told they have to move from a tropical paradise to Oakland.
Concordia University for the Los Angeles Clippers - I was going to go with the University of Maine-Machias, but the NBA Clippers have had enough pain.
Grand Valley State University for the Los Angeles Lakers - too lazy to see if they're actually better at basketball than Lake Superior State or Mercyhurst.
Florida Christian College for the Phoenix Suns - if what I'm reading is correct, basketball is the only men's sport at FCC.
Old Dominion University for the Sacramento Kings - I suppose Kings as a college nickname got the boot once women's teams became common. So Monarchs seems like the next best option.
Southwest Conference
University of Texas-Arlington for the Dallas Mavericks - that'll be an easy move.
University of Toledo for the Houston Rockets - we have liftoff.
University of Montana for the Memphis Grizzlies - what are the odds that two teams from Montana would figure in this?
Alabama State University for the New Orleans Hornets - more Hornets out there than I expected.
Lubbock Christian University for the San Antonio Spurs - no Spurs at the college level, but as they started their ABA life as the Dallas Chaparrals I went with that.
OK, let's have labor peace, professional sports leagues. I don't think I have the strength to do this again.
I didn't do this for the NBA because (a) I don't follow basketball as closely as I do football, and (b) I forgot that I'd done that for the NFL. But, for completeness' sake, here's what I'd come up with for the NBA. Just without most of the exposition, because that NFL post is long.
Atlantic Division
Carlow University for the Boston Celtics - Carlow, located in Pittsburgh, is a graduate school that gets to play in the NAIA. Their basketball team plays at a local high school.
Farleigh-Dickinson University for the New Jersey Nets - no colleges use Nets or Americans, the team's first name. So as they originally played in Teaneck, I went with the one school located in Teaneck.
Union College for the New York Knicks - no Knicks or Knickerbockers, so as that was a name for the area's Dutch settlers, I went for the Dutchmen.
UNC-Charlotte for the Philadelphia '76ers - no '76ers in the college ranks, so I went with the closest number I could find - the '49ers.
Bard College for the Toronto Raptors - hey, someone else really liked Jurassic Park!
Central Division
University of Buffalo for the Chicago Bulls - South Florida plays in a better conference but is almost always under .500, so we go with the MAC.
University of Virginia for the Cleveland Cavaliers - with the added benefit of going back to the orange and blue unis.
Murray State University for the Detroit Pistons - no Pistons, nothing really car-related out there for nicknames, so thinking about what people do with cars I went with the Racers.
University of South Carolina - Aiken for the Indiana Pacers - the younger Pacers have been making the D2 playoffs of late, which is more than you can say for the NBA version.
Fairfield University for the Milwaukee Bucks - no Bucks in the college game, and Ohio State seemed like cheating as buckeyes have nothing to do with deer. So I went with the Stags.
Southeast Division
St. Joseph's University for the Atlanta Hawks - plenty of schools to choose from, but not at the same level.
Montana State University for the Carolina Bobcats - I have no idea if they're the best team with the nickname (I suppose Quinnipiac may be better?), but they seem like they're the best of the bunch. Plus Craig Kilborne used to play for them. Remember him?
Liberty University for the Miami Heat - no school is dumb enough to use Heat as a nickname, so as there are flames on their unis I went with the schools with that as a nickname. I suppose UIC might be better, but I tend to remember seeing Liberty in my NCAA bracket more recently. I could be making that up.
LeMoyne-Owens College for the Orlando Magic - no school is dumb enough to use Magic as a nickname, but there is one that uses Magicians.
Gettysburg College for the Washington Wizards - no Wizards on the college level, but one Bullets.
Northwest Divison
University of Texas-El Paso for the Denver Nuggets - no Nuggets, go with the guys who find them.
Northwood University for the Minnesota Timberwolves - which is unfortunate, as I really wanted to use the Colorado State-Pueblo Thunderwolves. Apparently, adding "Thunder" to your nickname is the 2000s equivalent of the 1980s/90s practice of sneaking black into your uniform.
Wheaton College for the Oklahoma City Thunder - that's the Wheaton in Illinois, just in case Anne Curry is reading.
Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts for the Portland Trail Blazers - and easy call, as the nicknames match and both are in the woods.
Oklahoma City University for the Utah Jazz - no Jazz, so I went with the Stars based on Utah's ABA franchise. Not related, but easier than coming up with something else.
Pacific Division
University of Hawaii for the Golden State Warriors - I expect the team to revolt when told they have to move from a tropical paradise to Oakland.
Concordia University for the Los Angeles Clippers - I was going to go with the University of Maine-Machias, but the NBA Clippers have had enough pain.
Grand Valley State University for the Los Angeles Lakers - too lazy to see if they're actually better at basketball than Lake Superior State or Mercyhurst.
Florida Christian College for the Phoenix Suns - if what I'm reading is correct, basketball is the only men's sport at FCC.
Old Dominion University for the Sacramento Kings - I suppose Kings as a college nickname got the boot once women's teams became common. So Monarchs seems like the next best option.
Southwest Conference
University of Texas-Arlington for the Dallas Mavericks - that'll be an easy move.
University of Toledo for the Houston Rockets - we have liftoff.
University of Montana for the Memphis Grizzlies - what are the odds that two teams from Montana would figure in this?
Alabama State University for the New Orleans Hornets - more Hornets out there than I expected.
Lubbock Christian University for the San Antonio Spurs - no Spurs at the college level, but as they started their ABA life as the Dallas Chaparrals I went with that.
OK, let's have labor peace, professional sports leagues. I don't think I have the strength to do this again.
28 November 2011
Welcome to Making it Better: the Boston.com top 100 New England books list edition.
Usually this feature covers five items, but today you get a bonus replacement. Aren't you lucky?
Remove: Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat
Add: The Lobster Coast by Colin Woodward
Danticat's only connection to New England is that she earned her MFA at Brown. She was born in Haiti, grew up in New York, and now seems to split time between New York and Miami. Her listed book doesn't appear to have anything to do with New England at all.
If we want a book that deals with identity but also has a New England connection, The Lobster Coast fits the bill. It discusses the history and current social crises of Maine's Down East population, and how their traditional ways are threatened by fishery problems and the increased number of non-Mainers who now live in the area. I don't doubt that Breath, Eyes, Memory tells a more dramatic story, but it is not, in a basic sense, a New England story (outside of the number of Hatian immigrants who live in New England).
Remove: Sophie's Choice by William Styron
Add: Zodiac by Neal Stephenson
Both authors have a connection to the region - Styron lived his later years on Martha's Vineyard and is buried there, Stephenson is a BU grad. But between Sophie's Choice and Zodiac, the latter is much more steeped in New England, as it's set in and around Boston and involves a group of harbor fishermen, late night escapades among the Harbor Islands, our (then) nascent biotech industry and a thinly-disguised version of Teddy Kennedy.
I'm not saying Zodiac is the better book - I've never read Sophie's Choice - or even that it's Stephenson's best book (either Snow Crash or Cryptonomicon). But if we're talking about books by authors who were temporary New Englanders, might as well list a book that's actually set in New England.
Remove: Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom
Add: New England White by Stephen Carter
I'll admit that I've not fully read Tuesdays with Morrie, but I have a kind of visceral reaction to Albom and his books based on excerpts and reviews that I've read. I see treacly overly-sentimental hogwash where others get inspiration. That may be a problem with me rather than him, but as I'm making the changes, off this goes.
New England White isn't sentimental or inspirational at all. It's about a murder in a small town near an unnamed Ivy League school, and the involvement of that school's president and dean of the divinity school - who are married to each other. The book expertly probes race, class, and education from inside the world of upper-class African-Americans. You'd do as well to read The Emperor of Ocean Park and Palace Council, all of which make up an interesting trilogy.
Remove: The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown
Add: Harvard Yard by William Martin
While there's at least some connection between New England and The DaVinci Code - Robert Langdon teaches at Harvard, and Dan Brown is a life-long New Englander - the vast majority of the book takes place in Europe.
If you want an historical thriller written by a native New Englander, go with Harvard Yard, one of a series of novels that Martin has written featuring antiquarian Peter Fallon that is actually set in New England. You could just as easily go with Back Bay or Cape Cod, which is not part of the Fallon series but is equal to those books.
Remove: The Emperor's Children by Claire Messud
Add: Let Me Tell You a Story by John Feinstein
Like Breath, Eyes, Memory, this book gets on the list due to the author's New England ties (though in this case, she is a native New Englander). It does not get on for any New England content, as there is none.
My replacement is kind of the opposite. Red Auerbach had no real New England ties - he was born in Brooklyn and spent a lot of his adult years in Washington D.C. - but became one of the most iconic figures in Boston sports. I also incuded this book because all of the sports books included on the list seem to have as much to do with the Yankees as the Red Sox.
Remove: The Secret History by Donna Tartt
Add: The Siege of Salt Cove by Anthony Weller
Here I'm taking out a book with which I feel absolutely no connection to one that absolutely connects. The Siege of Salt Cove starts with the Commonwealth of Massachusetts deciding that they are going to replace the town of Salt Cove's wooden bridge with a concrete span. Turns out the locals hate the plan, and the rest of the book unfolds with the locals fighting the state, real estate developers, and each other. Weller has a good eye for capturing the local spirit, and his inspiration for the book - the Annisquam Bridge, located in Gloucester - is something I saw every time we went to my grandmother's house in Rockport.
23 November 2011
The folks at Boston.com came up with their list of 100 essential New England books, and for the first 20 or so it's a pretty solid list. The books either have a significant New England setting or are by authors with strong New England ties. But as the list goes into the other 80 books, we start to get more books that take place outside of New England written by people whose only tie to the region is a college of university where they were a student or are faculty. I'm thinking this is why I've read so few books on the list, even if in reality it's because I prefer books where time travelers give the Aztecs tanks so they can beat Cortez.
Anyway, here's what I've read on this list, with ranking in parentheses:
Make Way for Ducklings (3) - a fitting place for Robert McCloskey's best known work, but his books set in Maine are equally worth exploring.
A Prayer for Owen Meany (5) - this might be my favorite book on the list. It is infinitely better than that crap movie based on it, so don't let the film hold you back from reading this.
Make Way for Ducklings (3) - a fitting place for Robert McCloskey's best known work, but his books set in Maine are equally worth exploring.
A Prayer for Owen Meany (5) - this might be my favorite book on the list. It is infinitely better than that crap movie based on it, so don't let the film hold you back from reading this.
Mountains Beyond Mountains (6) - Tracy Kidder could easily have four or five books on this list, from his '80s tech classic The Soul of a New Machine to the exploration of Northampton in Home Town. This book, which introduces us to Paul Farmer, a doctor whose dedication to improving health care in places as disparate as Haiti and Siberia is richly detailed and inspirational, even when countered with the pages on the red tape and personal intransigence that frustrate Farmer on a regular basis.
Empire Falls (9) - Richard Russo has a gift for writing about broken down people in broken down towns finding some sort of redemption, and this is his best of the bunch.
The Scarlet Letter (19) - Nathaniel Hawthorne's best known work. Read it in high school. Do not feel particularly motivated to read it again, though comparing it to the novelization from the movie version starring Demi Moore could be an entertaining exercise.
The Rascal King (25) - really interesting bio of James Curley. Should be higher.
Cod (29) - one of Mark Kurlansky's books that enumerates the impact of a single thing on society. Salt is better known, but I think this book does a better job thanks to the focus brought on by its comparative brevity.
Mystic River (38) - liked the book and the movie, surprising as reading the book first so often leads to being disappointed in the movie. I do often find the Southie/Dorchester stereotypes grating, but thought the treatment here wasn't too bad.
The Crucible (43) - read it in high school, and was lucky enough to have it taught by someone who worked in relevant local history (living as close to Salem as we did) and didn't soft-pedal the Communist witch hunt subtext.
The Catcher in the Rye (61) - read it in high school, never quite got the fascination.
A Civil Action (64) - Jonathan Harr's recounting of a David versus Goliath legal battle in Woburn, where a cancer cluster was blamed on a local industrial site. Exactly the sort of book an impressionable law student with an interest in environmental and health issues would love. And even when that student wound up in a completely different career, it's still a gripping story that shows truth is oftentimes better than Grisham.
Memoirs of a Geisha (68) - this is not a book that I would normally gravitate towards, but between the buzz and its constant appearance on the library shelf, I took a flier on it. I'm glad I did.
A Walk in the Woods (73) - Bill Bryson's hikes on the Appalachian Trail form the basis of this book, which shows of both his attention to fact and detail and his trademark sense of humor.
The Da Vinci Code (76) - the only way this book should be on here is if there were only 100 books with a New England connection. And even then I don't think it'd be higher than 98. I get that it was a publishing phenomenon, but if that's the metric that matters we might as well have Michelin give McDonald's three stars.
The Secret History (81) - to paraphrase Roger Ebert, I hated hated hated hated hated this book. As a New Englander, higher ed professional, and classics major, there was not one thing I could identify with in this book about a small group of students and a classics professor at a New England college. I read this for a book group that never actually met, which made it doubly infuriating that I slogged through this for no good reason.
The Handmaid's Tale (87) - I read this somewhat early in my interest in alternative history, and thus read it with that more in mind than the feminist or religious themes. Not that you can avoid them, but I think I spent a decent part of the book not quite seeing the forest for the trees.
Bringing Down the House (88) - the blurb for this list should use "true" rather than true when discussing the story. I can't accept the way Mezrich beats the facts into a shape that best fits his narrative. I think if you can't make a non-fiction story exciting using the facts as they stand, either the story's not that good or the writer's not that good.
The Old Patagonian Express (93) - I like Paul Theroux's travel work, and think this is probably the best choice for this list, as it does actually start in Massachusetts, with Theroux leaving his family home in Medford as the first step of a journey to the edge of the Americas.
The Very Hungry Caterpillar (100) - what can I say, I have a kid.
Not surprisingly, there are other books I've not read whose presence on this list I can't quite accept. I'll tackle some of those next.
The Secret History (81) - to paraphrase Roger Ebert, I hated hated hated hated hated this book. As a New Englander, higher ed professional, and classics major, there was not one thing I could identify with in this book about a small group of students and a classics professor at a New England college. I read this for a book group that never actually met, which made it doubly infuriating that I slogged through this for no good reason.
The Handmaid's Tale (87) - I read this somewhat early in my interest in alternative history, and thus read it with that more in mind than the feminist or religious themes. Not that you can avoid them, but I think I spent a decent part of the book not quite seeing the forest for the trees.
Bringing Down the House (88) - the blurb for this list should use "true" rather than true when discussing the story. I can't accept the way Mezrich beats the facts into a shape that best fits his narrative. I think if you can't make a non-fiction story exciting using the facts as they stand, either the story's not that good or the writer's not that good.
The Old Patagonian Express (93) - I like Paul Theroux's travel work, and think this is probably the best choice for this list, as it does actually start in Massachusetts, with Theroux leaving his family home in Medford as the first step of a journey to the edge of the Americas.
The Very Hungry Caterpillar (100) - what can I say, I have a kid.
Not surprisingly, there are other books I've not read whose presence on this list I can't quite accept. I'll tackle some of those next.
26 October 2011
Book Log 2011 #25: The Gun by C. J. Chivers
So here's the thing: while this book claims to tell the history of the AK-47 and its impact on the world, it's actually a much broader work than that. It's really the history of automatic rifles, and for the first third of the book you're going to see the names Gatling and Maxim much more often than Kalashnikov. And while we do get to spend quality time with the credited designer of the world's most popular weapon, we also spend a fair amount of time at the end going over the creation of the M-16, whose troubled development is a good counterpoint to the pride of Soviet engineering.
You should not let this expansive nature get in the way of reading the book, if this is the sort of thing that interests you. I did wish for more detail on the AK itself, but understood the limitations presented by trying to write something authoritative when there are multiple - and conflicting - "official" histories. This part of the AK's history - the inside baseball of Soviet engineering and politics - is probably its most interesting aspect, but it's hard to get a full grasp on it through the propaganda.
So if you were really looking for a focused book about the AK-47 and Kalashnikov, this isn't it. As a broader work about automatic weapons and their impact on warfare, it's worth a read.
So here's the thing: while this book claims to tell the history of the AK-47 and its impact on the world, it's actually a much broader work than that. It's really the history of automatic rifles, and for the first third of the book you're going to see the names Gatling and Maxim much more often than Kalashnikov. And while we do get to spend quality time with the credited designer of the world's most popular weapon, we also spend a fair amount of time at the end going over the creation of the M-16, whose troubled development is a good counterpoint to the pride of Soviet engineering.
You should not let this expansive nature get in the way of reading the book, if this is the sort of thing that interests you. I did wish for more detail on the AK itself, but understood the limitations presented by trying to write something authoritative when there are multiple - and conflicting - "official" histories. This part of the AK's history - the inside baseball of Soviet engineering and politics - is probably its most interesting aspect, but it's hard to get a full grasp on it through the propaganda.
So if you were really looking for a focused book about the AK-47 and Kalashnikov, this isn't it. As a broader work about automatic weapons and their impact on warfare, it's worth a read.
Book Log 2011 #24: The Last Dickens by Matthew Pearl
When Charles Dickens suddenly dies, the pressure on his American publisher to print his final novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, increases greatly, especially when there are other publishers doing what they can to obtain the manuscript once it arrives from London. James Osgood represents the publisher, and as events unfold he not only has to fight off the publishing competition but solve a series of murders which claimed an employee and are seemingly related to the ending. Throw in a subplot set in India and flashbacks to Dickens' American tours and you have the setting for Pearl's most recent novel.
Thankfully, the book is less confusing than my attempt to summarize it so long after actually reading it, though it does take some time to see how the pieces fit together (especially the parts taking place in India), though it's certainly worth the work to get to where everything fits together. The Publishers Weekly review suggested the ending could be considered a cop-out, and while I don't recall feeling that way it's worth a warning, I suppose. The level of detail is good as always, and as a local I did appreciate the amount of action that took place in greater Boston.
All in all, I think I liked The Dante Club better, but did enjoy this one quite a bit.
When Charles Dickens suddenly dies, the pressure on his American publisher to print his final novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, increases greatly, especially when there are other publishers doing what they can to obtain the manuscript once it arrives from London. James Osgood represents the publisher, and as events unfold he not only has to fight off the publishing competition but solve a series of murders which claimed an employee and are seemingly related to the ending. Throw in a subplot set in India and flashbacks to Dickens' American tours and you have the setting for Pearl's most recent novel.
Thankfully, the book is less confusing than my attempt to summarize it so long after actually reading it, though it does take some time to see how the pieces fit together (especially the parts taking place in India), though it's certainly worth the work to get to where everything fits together. The Publishers Weekly review suggested the ending could be considered a cop-out, and while I don't recall feeling that way it's worth a warning, I suppose. The level of detail is good as always, and as a local I did appreciate the amount of action that took place in greater Boston.
All in all, I think I liked The Dante Club better, but did enjoy this one quite a bit.
20 October 2011
Book Log 2011 #23: Heat by Bill Buford
There's a lot going on in this book: the author quits his day job at The New Yorker so he can work for Mario Batali in the Babbo kitchen, works his way up the ladder a bit, and then decamps to Italy to meet and work with/for the people Batali worked for and found his inspiration for traditional, hand-made Italian cuisine. Then there's the autobiographical part about Batali, whose full-tilt personality and colorful work history make him define the idea of being larger than life. And on top of that is the author's own developing obsession for making this food, which underscores why people will put up with lousy hours and often hostile working conditions to make great dishes.
On top of this we get a mountain of engrossing detail. The minutae about working at Babbo is similar to what's come up in other books about working in high-end restaurants, but is well recounted and not repetitive of other works. Buford goes out of his way to look at the history of the food he prepares, from the elevation of the short rib to the development of the traditional recipie for hand-made pasta.
If you have any interest in Batali, Italy or the culinary field, this is a must-read, and I'd think readers with a casual interest would get sucked in as well. Definitely recommended.
There's a lot going on in this book: the author quits his day job at The New Yorker so he can work for Mario Batali in the Babbo kitchen, works his way up the ladder a bit, and then decamps to Italy to meet and work with/for the people Batali worked for and found his inspiration for traditional, hand-made Italian cuisine. Then there's the autobiographical part about Batali, whose full-tilt personality and colorful work history make him define the idea of being larger than life. And on top of that is the author's own developing obsession for making this food, which underscores why people will put up with lousy hours and often hostile working conditions to make great dishes.
On top of this we get a mountain of engrossing detail. The minutae about working at Babbo is similar to what's come up in other books about working in high-end restaurants, but is well recounted and not repetitive of other works. Buford goes out of his way to look at the history of the food he prepares, from the elevation of the short rib to the development of the traditional recipie for hand-made pasta.
If you have any interest in Batali, Italy or the culinary field, this is a must-read, and I'd think readers with a casual interest would get sucked in as well. Definitely recommended.
16 September 2011
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.
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.
14 September 2011
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.
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.
11 September 2011
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 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.
09 September 2011
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.
08 September 2011
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.
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.
07 September 2011
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.
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.
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