Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese


Day 19: Diocese of Brooklyn


Not surprisingly, this diocese was formed when Brooklyn was a separate city from New York, forming in 1853. It includes Queens and used to include Long Island, which later split off into its own diocese.

The diocese is home to the only seminary high school in the country, Cathedral Prep. Its best known student was one that didn't graduate: Vince Lombardi. I imagine they wanted less cursing in the sermons.

Checking the diocese website, I was saddened to see no Hipster Ministry (it's also not clear if they're using artisinally baked wafers using genetically unmodified wheat). But I did notice that they're tying to get one of their own, Monsignor Bernard Quinn, canonized. He did some impressive work, volunteering as a chaplain in World War I, and then working to support African-American Catholics in Brooklyn, but I've not seen any discussion of miracles, which are pretty much required. Good luck.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese


Day 18: Diocese of Salt Lake City


While not in the same league as having a diocese in Iran or Russia, you'd have to think running the show in Salt Lake City would be challenging given the demographics in Utah. In some ways Catholics have always been outsiders in the region, as the first church was built to minister primarily to soldiers, miners, and railroad workers. Still true today, as the diocese has seen its numbers grow in recent years thanks to Hispanic immigration, but it's still a very small group compared to Mormons.

From what I can tell, the relationship is generally cordial on an official level, but more challenging on a personal level. That kind of jibes with the lone data point of anecdotal evidence I have. Many years ago I was an RA in the same area of campus with a woman from Salt Lake who was Catholic. She noted that things were fine when her family first moved there, but a distance developed (especially with neighborhood kids who were Mormon) as it became clear that her family wouldn't be seen at services. There was never any ugliness, and from what she said everyone got along in the neighborhood, but it was a separation point. Nothing to dissimilar from what happens in other areas where one faith is dominant, I'd think, and thankfully peaceful.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese


Day 17: Archdiocese of Ispahan


This diocese was founded in 1629 by Italian missionaries to Isfahan, then the capital of the Safavid Empire. It got bumped up to an archdiocese in 1910. It serves roughly 10,000 Catholics in Iran, which must be a pretty tough gig. Even better, the cathedral is located in Tehran. Christians in Iran are apparently a protected religious minority, but I doubt there'll be much of an Easter parade there.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese


Day 16: Diocese of Djibouti


This diocese was created in 1955 from an apostolic prefecture created in 1914. Not quite sure of the circumstances, given that there are only about 7,000 Catholics in Djibouti. I suppose France had something to do with it, as most of the Catholics in Djibouti are expats or other non-Djiboutians.

There's not much out there on the diocese, not surprisingly. I pretty much chose it for this exercise because I like the name Djibouti.  It's fun to say.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese

Day 15: Diocese of El Paso

Part of the Diocese of Mexico when it was formed in 1530, it became part of an American-based diocese after the Mexican-American War. The city of El Paso didn't have a dedicated Catholic church until 1881; up to then most folks went to church across the border in Juarez.

The arrival of the railroad and refugees trying to avoid the Mexican Civil War resulted in a population boom for El Paso and the establishment of several new parishes. Pope Pius X established the El Paso diocese in 1914, taking parts from Dallas, San Antonio and Tucson. For all of the Hispanic influences, the cathedral is named for St. Patrick as the largest donation for the building came from Irish immigrants working the local mines. That's changed recently, as all of the bishops since 1978 are of Hispanic descent, and the diocese has been very active in issues related to undocumented immigrants and relief efforts in Central America.

While originally covering parts of west Texas and southern New Mexico, the latter territory was broken off in 1982 to form the Diocese of Las Cruces. 

My original interest in picking this diocese: its coat of arms has an anchor on it, which I thought was odd as El Paso isn't exactly coastal. It winds up that an anchor was part of Piux X's personal coat of arms, and El Paso put one on their coat of arms to honor him.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese

Day 14: Diocese of Pyongyang

Started as a Prefecture Apostolic in 1927, the last bishop to serve in residence was Francis Hong Yong-ho, who was imprisoned in 1949 and later disappeared. Seeing which was the wind was blowing with the North Koreans, the diocese has been run by an apostolic administrator from Seoul since its inception in 1962. Yong-ho is still considered its bishop, however, as a testament to him and the persecution of Catholics (and pretty much any religious personnel) in North Korea.

Which does lead to certain practical questions, mostly around how many Catholics there could be in North Korea and how the hierarch operates, if at all.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese


Day 13: Archdiocese of Alba Iulia


Located in Romania but serving mostly ethnic Hungarians, I admit I chose this one because it was originally the Diocese of Transylvania, which seems like a fitting choice for the 13th day of this exercise. That original diocese was formed in 1009 by Stephen I of Hungary, and didn't change to its current name until the 1930s.

I just kind of like the idea that Vlad the Impaler liked going to mass so he could have more blood.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese


Day 12: Diocese of Palm Beach


Formed in 1984, this diocese has had a short, turbulent history thanks to two of its former bishops. One, Joseph Symons, admitted to molesting five boys while he was a parish priest and resigned. His successor, Anthony O'Connell, would later admit to molesting two students while running a preparatory seminary in Missouri.

It was at this point that Sean O'Malley was made bishop, moving from the clean up job he had in Fall River to this one. He would serve for less than a year before being moved to Boston to replace Bernard Law, who left him a pretty big mess to clean up as well. Replacing O'Malley was the current bishop, Gerald Barbarito, who in what I hope is an unrelated move has a picture of himself as a child on his biography page.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese


Day 11: Diocese of Yamoussoukro


Located in the capital of Cote D'Ivoire, this diocese is best known as the home of the "minor" Basilica of Our Lady of Peace, one of the largest churches in the world (possibly the second-largest, depending if you measure by volume or area). Its minor status reflects that it is not the seat of the bishop, who uses the smaller, but quite suitable, Cathedral of St. Augustine.

Based on St. Peter's, its construction was the brain child of former president Félix Houphouët-Boigny, who apparently wanted it to be a memorial to him in his hometown, which he made the nation's capital. in 1983. 

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese


Day 10: Diocese of Transfiguration at Novosibirsk


At 700,000 square miles in area and with only 500,000 Catholics, this may be the least densely populated diocese of all. It didn't get full diocese status until 2002, but has been a part of the Catholic hierarchy in Russia since 1921.

The current bishop, Joseph Werth, is an interesting guy. Born in what is now Kazakhstan, he was trained in secret by Jesuits in Lithuania, and was ordained in 1984. His work in the Asian region of the USSR was seen as successful, and there's some thought he was made a cardinal in secret (in pectore) by Pope John Paul II, probably to protect him from problems with the Russian government (and the Russian Orthodox church, with which the Vatican has had problematic relations since, well, the Great Schism).

That may also explain why all the diocese names in Russia have some sort of name in addition to the location (for example, the archdiocese is called Mother of God at Moscow).

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese


Day 9: Archdiocese of Algiers


Founded as a diocese in 1838 and elevated to an archdiocese in 1866, it does claim a history dating back to the second century AD even though the French were the ones to get the hierarchy going.

There is a page on their website that talks about living as Catholics in a country where Islam is dominant, and not surprisingly it takes a fairly low-key tone, stressing brotherhood and acceptance. Probably a good idea given the numbers.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese


Day 8: Diocese of Reno


Nevada was originally split in two vertically, with the western half belonging to Sacramento and the eastern half falling under Salt Lake City. in 1931 they were merged into the Diocese of Reno, which covered the entire state. It was the largest diocese (in area) in the continental US.

In 1976, it was renamed Reno-Las Vegas to denote the latter city's growth, but was removed in 1995 when Las Vegas was spun off into its own diocese. Today it has 37 priests to cover over 70,000 square miles. I hope they get mileage.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese


Day 7: Diocese of Winona


Made up of most of southern Minnesota, it found a novel way to build up its population. The bishop in charge in 1877 bought over 100,000 acres of land and brought in settlers to farm. Not surprisingly, he tried to bring in Catholics, and managed to attract Irish and German immigrants under some pretty favorable terms.

Later, The Sisters of Saint Francis of the Congregation of our Lady of Lourdes would help create the Mayo Clinic, as they brought in the Mayo brothers to run a new hospital in the aftermath of a tornado in 1882.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese


Day 6: Diocese of Fairbanks


While founded in 1962, its roots go all the way back to 1894 with the founding of an apostolic prefecture, a missionary area that doesn't have enough Catholics to form a diocese. It's likely still the US diocese with the lowest population density, with roughly 18,000 worshipers spread over 410,000 square miles.

With that size, it's also not surprising to learn it's the home to the oldest church-run radio station in the country. Not quite sure how you take communion over the radio. Maybe they send you wafers.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese!


Day 5: Diocese of Owensboro


Formed in 1937, it covers western Kentucky. Not much to say about it, really, though their website notes that they have one of the highest Mass attendance rates in the country, with about 60 percent of its worshipers showing up on Sundays. So they have that going for them, which is nice.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese!


Day 4: Diocese of Gaylord


I admit it. I'm a 12 year old.

(for form's sake: it's in northern Michigan, founded in 1970, and "canonically erected" in 1971. Maybe not the best choice of words there.)

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese!


Day 3: Diocese of Dodge City


I would not have figured western Kansas for a hotbed of Popery, but there you have it, 28 counties arranged into this diocese, numbering about 44,000 Catholics total. Not much more to say about it - their website spends as much time talking about Wild West days as anything else - which may not be surprising as it was formed in 1951.

They do have the first 21st century cathedral in the US, which opened in December 2001. A little too contemporary for my taste - from the outside it looks like it could be part of an outlet mall, and the inside has a theater in the round quality to it - but it's hardly the ugliest church I've ever seen.

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese!


Day 2: Archdiocese of Portland in Oregon


I feel kind of bad for the Archdiocese of Portland in Oregon, having to go through life with the "in Oregon" modifier so it's not confused with the Diocese of Portland that covers the entire state of Maine. Even worse, Portland wasn't the first home of the archdiocese, as Oregon City served as HQ until 1926.

Still, this is the first archdiocese founded in the western US, thanks to a petition by French missionaries and the later arrival of a group of Belgian priests and nuns.

Recent history has less to crow about, as the archdiocese was the first in the US to declare bankruptcy in the wake of sex abuse scandals, doing so in 2004. The declaration came just as two cases were heading to trial, with victims seeking over $150 million in damages.

If you spent most of today wondering why you kept seeing people who looked like they hadn't washed their face in a while, it's Ash Wednesday (that or you live or work in an area where personal hygiene isn't a priority). Among the things that means, perhaps the least important is the debut of:

Lentorama 2012: Know Your Diocese! 


Forty days, forty blurbs about administrative districts of the Catholic church. And in true Catholic fashion, I'm doing something based on an idea that was popular several years ago (feel free to refer to this comment in 2289, when priests are finally allowed to marry).

So, as the hip kids of the Vatican like to say, sit scriptor adepto eam coepi!


Day 1: Archdiocese of Baltimore


Prior to independence, American Catholics fell under the jurisdiction of a vicariate in London (Britain having no diocese of their own at the time, thanks to all the unpleasantness with and following the formation of the Church of England). Roughly two months after the Treaty of Paris was signed, a group of Maryland clergy asked the Vatican to create a superior to be in charge of the various missionary groups in the US. That got the OK the following year, and in 1789 Baltimore was officially made a diocese, giving it authority over all Catholics in US states and territories.


I'll admit to being surprised when I first learned that Baltimore was the first diocese in the US. It's not the first city you'd think of when you think of American Catholics, and probably wouldn't be the second or third. So how did they get the nod, other than having clergy who got the ball rolling?


Maryland was planned and founded by successive Lord Baltimores, George and Cecilius Calvert. Both men were Catholic, and named the colony for the Catholic wife of Charles I. It was one of the few places in colonial America where Catholics could practice openly, and thus attracted large numbers of Catholic immigrants well before cities like Boston, New York and Chicago.


Not that it always went smoothly. The Jesuits that accompanies the original settlers established themselves pretty quickly, getting land from natives and pushing for various exemptions from duty and taxes that were levied on other settlers. Calvert was able to have non-Jesuit priests sent over and brokered some sort of truce that allowed everyone to operate in peace - just in time for the Puritans to show up and take over the government. Then the English crown made Maryland a royal colony in 1692 and forced the C of E on the locals, who were largely forbidden to practice their original faith.


Baltimore does have two pretty neat distinctions. First, the archbishop of Baltimore has "prerogative of place" over all other American archbishops whenever they are in some sort of meeting, regardless of seniority. He does not get to boss around cardinals, however (even if he is a cardinal archbishop). The other distinction is that there are two cathedrals in the city of Baltimore, making it only one of three US cities to have this. The other two are Honolulu and Burlington, Vermont. So maybe it's not that neat of a distinction.

Book Log 2012 #3: The Tears of the Sun by S. M. Stirling


For some reason I thought this was the last book of this series, but I pretty much figured out I was wrong when this book spent its time setting up action in future books rather than making any significant progress in its own right. There is some action - a daring rescue attempt and an early skirmish in the looming war with the Church Universal and Triumphant and its allies - but not as much as one might hope. There's a plot line told in flashback  which helps flesh out an earlier development, but isn't particularly exciting in its own right.

I could also do without the loving descriptions of medievel weapons and armor, and the continual references to heraldic signs using formal terms that would require keeping a glossary handy if I cared enough to decode just what's being talked about. On the plus side, fewer songs and the like.

Most series I've read have a book like this in it, where things get organized with the promise of future payoff. I'm hoping we get this over the last two books of the series, rather than another book of set-up and a final book to tie it all together.

Book Log 2012 #2: The Salisbury Manuscripts by Philip Gooden


A young lawyer is sent to Salisbury to take possession of a manuscript from a canon of the cathedral, but before he can do so the canon is murdered and the manuscript stolen, setting of a series of events that put the lawyer in the middle of investigation as he tries to recover the stolen papers.

Set in the early Victorian era, the book almost seems like it was written in that period. It's a little stiff in places and the narrator interjects in places better left alone. I was reminded a little bit of Dickens or other serialized writers of the time who created various twists to create future installments. Not that the writing is at that level.

My biggest problem is that the book, set in a cathedral town, did very little with the cathedral until the end. My thinking is that if you have a series of mysteries that take place in cathedral towns, you'd do more with the cathedral itself.

Not sure if I'll read on in the series. For all its drawbacks it was a reasonable enough commuting book, so maybe I'll pick up the second one to see if things improve.

Book Log 2012 #1: The Keeper of Lost Causes by Jussi Adler-Olson


The success of the Millenium trilogy opened the way for other Scandinavian crime writers, which would be great if my library actually acquired books in order. We seem to have a lot of second or third books in a series showing up, which is a problem for me and my OCD about reading series in order.

I wasn't so hampered with this book, as it's the first in the series, and the only novel in the series published in the US (so far). The series follows a Copenhagen police detective named Carl Morck, who believes his slow reaction to a shooting incident will lead to his firing. Instead, his boss finds the perfect solution for getting rid of Carl - he's bumped up to  lead Department Q, a newly-formed cold case squad. Or "squad," as the department is staffed by Carl and his assistant, a shadowy Syrian immigrant named Assad who is hired to make coffee and clean but winds up being much more involved in the investigation.

That investigation involves the disappearance of a member of Parliament five years previous. Dedicated to work and caring for her brother (who suffered some sort of brain injury in a car accident), she disappears off of a ferry bound for Germany. The assumption is that she fell (or jumped) off the ferry, but as Carl begins to investigate, he thinks there's more to the story. Morck also stays involved in the shooting case that started his new career in cold cases, and chips in on another investigation as well.

His personal life is about as messed up as work, as he lives with his teenaged stepson and a basement tenant. His wife lives in a garden shed, forcing Morck to live in limbo. He pursues other women, but can't quite escape his wife's orbit (though he seems pretty much over her romantically).

The story is told in parallel tracks between the present day and the past timeline of the cold case. It's done pretty effectively, allowing the mystery to build in one track while it then unfolds in the other. It helps that Morck is a pretty interesting character, though it's hard to tell if his melancholy is permanent or not. I really enjoyed the developing relationship he has with his assistant, and to future revelations on just how he got to Denmark from Syria.

Overall, the book is a worthy representative of the genre, and I'm hopeful the other books will work their way into English.

I don't normally give out the coveted Blogalicious endorsement until I'm actually able to vote (Massachusetts doesn't hold their primary until March), but I figured I'd do so earlier this year to give voters in Iowa and New Hampshire one more data point to consider.

To my way of thinking, it's a pretty clear choice. There is one candidate in the field who:

1. Has executive experience, having been a governor.

2. Has foreign policy experience, having been an ambassador.

3. Is rational, noting in an early debate that the GOP is flirting with irrelevance if they become a party whose position on science patterns itself after the Catholic Church in the time of Galileo.

From that, it's probably obvious that Blogalicious endorses Jon Huntsman, Jr. for the Republican nomination for President.

The unfortunate thing is that he may not be in the race by the time I get to vote. The early states are not favorable for him. Iowa and South Carolina favor social conservatives, and South Carolina in close enough to Georgia to be a decent state for Newt Gingrich. Knowing this, Huntsman has focused solely on New Hampshire, which seems like a good state for him except that Mitt Romney (a) was governor of next-door Massachusetts, and (b) has a house in New Hampshire. Romney's also spent a fair amount of time in the state, keeping damage from Huntsman to a minimum.

Still, after looking at the entire field I don't think there's another major candidate that I could support. While I don't know much about him, I'm also thinking that former New Mexico governor Gary Johnson seems like a possibility, though we'll see where things are in a couple months. 

Book Log 2011 #46: The Twelfth Enchantment by David Liss


The set-up is straight out of Jane Austen. A young woman, tainted by the scandal of a failed elopement and lacking resources after her father dies nearly penniless, is sent to live with an uncle who doesn't want her there. The lack of connection with the uncle and his housekeeper is compounded when she is betrothed to a mill owner she does not like, never mind love.

The change comes when the woman has a chance to turn her life around - through magic. Yes, it turns out that the woman has a gift with the magic arts, and her task to "gather the leaves" is connected to the greater fight between progress and industrial revolution and the artisans led by Ned Ludd. The woman has to develop her gift while balancing the attentions of a young Lord Byron and the man she eloped with, returned with his own agenda.

What I like best about this book is that the magic isn't treated any different than anything else. Some books would focus only on the magic, while others would get into innumerable details about spells, etc. In this case, we get a solid story about a woman trying to make her way, just with the additional help of magic to get there.

While I'm waiting patiently for the next installment in Liss' series featuring boxer turned investigator Benjamin Weaver, this was a very entertaining diversion. Liss is very comfortable writing about this period, and his ability to balance the magical with the historical with the romantic is very much appreciated. I really enjoyed this book, and am glad that it's the one I'm ending 2011 on.

Book Log 2011 #45: The Third Rail by Michael Harvey

Two women are shot and killed on the El, with the only apparent tie being Chicago PI Michael Kelly, who is on the platform for the first shooting and is contacted by the killer after the second. Kelly winds up on the task force investigating the shootings, but is also approached by the mayor to make sure that the killer, once found, doesn't get to trial. From the start Kelly feels like the case is being handled incorrectly, and as that plays out he finds that he has another, more personal connection to the shootings. 

This is the third book involving Kelly, and it lives up to the standard set by the other two books. I wasn't fully satisfied by the ending, but it worked well enough that I was able to put my misgivings aside. It's not necessarily as noirish as the other two, but there's plenty of Chicago flavor to make up for it. I also like how Kelly continues to be developed as a fully-realized person, and not just someone who spends his time either on cases or drinking (though he spends plenty of time on both). What isn't sitting well is the introduction of FBI and Homeland Security types, as I worry that future books will be less Chicago-centric. But for now, another good book in the series.

Book Log 2011 #44: Reamde by Neal Stephenson


This book marks a return to the technology-based thriller, as a man who has developed an internationally-popular online game sees his favorite niece go missing at the same time a group of Chinese hackers introduce a virus into the game that holds players' hard drives ransom until a payment is made in-game. From there the book widens out to include Russian mobsters, government intelligence agents, international terrorists, and Idahoan survivalists.

This sort of wide-ranging story has proven quite entertaining before - Cryptonomicon tells an entertaining story across multiple continents and times - but this book doesn't reach those heights. This story is almost too broad, with characters disappearing for 100 pages or more and new characters coming in mid-book to take up even more space. There's also a couple of related subplots involving the online game and two writers who created its backstory that go on much longer than necessary.

Speaking of going on too long, the closing 200 pages or so of the book take place in the wilds of British Columbia and Idaho, and it seems like at least half of that is dedicated to descriptions of mountains, backwoods trails and other landforms. It got to the point where I dreaded the start of a new section, as I knew it would involve at least a page or two of this sort of thing.

What this winds up being is a 700 page novel hiding in a 1000 page novel. I won't say I was disappointed, as I did like the book overall, but I did feel like it didn't meet my expectations. Better luck next time.

Book Log 2011 #43: Then Everything Changed by Jeff Greenfield


Political commentator Greenfield takes a stab at three alternative political histories in this book. The first story sees the planned assassination of JFK by Richard Pavlick succeed, leading to an early LBJ presidency. The second has RFK assassination failing, and looks at what would have come after. The final story has Ford winning the 1976 election.

The upshot of all three stories, really, is that JFK and RFK were great. In the first story LBJ faces pretty much the same issues as JFK did, but with less success. In the second story, RFK's presidency has its bobbles, but allows us to avoid Watergate and other problems. Neither really influences the third story, though it does emphasize that Teddy was not cut from the same cloth as his brothers.

The stories are written well enough, though I found myself getting annoyed at some of the cameos and cutesy coincidences. I know they're done in an attempt to make the stories more real, but when Hillary Rodham Clinton shows up as a White House lawyer who catches a sitting President getting orally pleased by an intern, I find that we're crossed the line to gratuitous.

I don't think these are the best stories compared to those written by dedicated alt-history authors, but they're not bad for someone riffing on his day job.

Book Log 2011 #42: World Without End by Ken Follett


This sequel to Pillars of the Earth jumps 200 years after the events of the first book, returning to Kingsbridge to follow four characters who, as kids in 1327, witness an altercation whose implications will not become known for decades. Still, it shapes their lives in various ways, as they grow into their roles as builder, healer, peasant and lord.

Many of the themes from the first book continue in the second - secular versus clerical rule, life as a serf versus free man versus lord, etc. - though they're obviously distinct given the 200 years that have passed. The plague plays a major role in the book - as you might expect given the year the book starts in.

This book is every bit as enjoyable as the first, though it took me a while to get going with this one, mostly as I was trying to sort out how the people in this book were related to the folks in the first one. A family tree would be helpful for those characters who are descended from people in the first book. A map would have been nice as well, though the website linked above has one.

You will need to dedicate a fair bit of time to this book - like the first, it clocks in at over 1000 pages - but it reads much quicker than you might expect for something so big.

Book Log 2011 #41: Maphead by Ken Jennings


Ken Jennings and I have at least two things in common. The first is that we're both trivia nerds who have parlayed such nerditry into money (though his total is much, much higher than my one). The second is that we're both into geography, though that's probably not so surprising given the first point of commonality. Jennings dives into this subculture in this book, examining people who create fictional countries, geocaching (which is actually a third thing we have in common, although I've taken a hiatus with the kids being so small), and a variety of other geographic interests.

This book is in the same conversational, self-deprecating style of Brainiac, and it's as comfortable and enjoyable here as it was there. I did find myself comparing the chapter about the National Geographic Bee to the one about the National Spelling Bee in Neil Steinberg's Failure, appreciating the similarities in the participants. I was also very interested in the section talking about the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, a map-based road rally that was advertised in pretty much every issue of Games magazine I've ever read. Thankfully I never sent the money in to participate, as based on Jennings' experience the hair-splitting directions and definitions would have driven me crazy and I would likely have never finished it (or come close).

So if you've ever pondered the map of the world in a high school classroom or wondered who exactly tries to visit all the countries of the world, this book is for you. Even if you've not done this, it's worth a read so you can understand why some of us like this stuff.

Book Log 2011 #40: The Poisoner's Handbook by Deborah Blum


We take forensic chemistry for granted nowadays, expecting that any substance used to kill someone will be detected. That was not the case at the start of the 20th century, when coroners were often appointed for political reasons and actual science didn't come into play when the police tried to solve crimes. It took a crusading doctor and a like-minded colleague to change this in New York City, as they modernized methods, testing and procedures in an attempt to catch those people who, previously, could poison with impunity.

There is something for just about everyone here, from true crime to public health to medicine to US urban history. The book is organized by chapters involving one particular poison, showing how each came into vogue, cases where it was used, and ways in which the coroner came up with or improved tests to uncovers killers who would have succeeded under the old regime.

The book is well-written and the subject matter greatly interesting, at least to me. Definitely recommended if you're into this sort of thing.

Book Log 2011 #39: Moneymakers by Ben Tarnoff


Three American counterfieters are profiled here, detailing their work profiting (and in at least one case, displaying patriotism) in making funny money.  While the stories are well told, there's at least as much about the history of American paper money here, with the counterfieters serving as a backdrop for the move from Continental bank notes to the federally-backed notes that became what we use today.

The actual stories about the counterfieters improve as the book moves along - in no small part due to the increase in documentation about their lives and crimes - while the writing about currency in general is even throughout. Worth a read if you're interested in US money, history, or the history of US money.

Book Log 2011 #38: Atlantic by Simon Winchester


In this book, Winchester attempts a biography of the Atlantic Ocean, starting at its formation in the earliest stages of the planet to its future destruction by the same forces that gave it life. In between, he talks about the "Great Sea Battles, Heroic Discoveries, Titanic Storms, and a Vast Ocean of a Million Stories" promised by the subtitle.

He frames the discussion using Shakespeare's seven ages of man from As You Like It, which allows him to follow chronology where appropriate but discuss other facets - such as sea battles and Atlantic-inspired art - as specific subjects.

This works, for the most part, but the problem with such a broad topic is that choices have to be made for what gets mentioned and what doesn't, and those choices aren't always the ones I'd make. For example, the art chapter spends a great deal of time talking about coastal architecture without mentioning Manueline  architecture, a style influenced greatly by Portugal's exploration of the Atlantic and the oceans beyond. Similar examples can be found in each chapter.

I'm also not a fan of Winchester's pessimism towards the survival of mankind. He seems to think we'll exit the stage well before the Atlantic is crushed between land masses, and while I do think we'll have moved on by then, I tend to think we'll last longer on Earth and have found somewhere else to go by this time. Winchester seems to think we'll go the way of the dodo, or at least that was my read.

But in the main, it's usually engaging and worth a read, though some sections could be bypassed if not of interest, as the seven ages of man set-up allows for some compartmentalization.

Book Log 2011 #37: Popular Crime by Bill James


Besides being one of baseball's leading quantitative minds, Bill James has a serious interest in popular crime stories. This book allows him to explore this passion, covering over two millennia of headline crimes, though he mostly focuses on events from 1800 onward.

The results of this examination are somewhat uneven. Some cases get great coverage, while other times get a laundry list of crimes that tend to drag. He creates a taxonomy for cases based on their elements, a digression that may help him but is dry reading at best.

The best parts of the book are where James is actually making an argument for or against something rather than just relating cases to fill the timeline. Towards the end of the book he starts to put together a plan for creating a more effective prison system (basically creating small neighborhood facilities, a neat idea that will never happen) and discusses the justice system generally, which goes on a bit too long.

James also makes a basic argument in the book for the importance of following and understanding these cases, both for their insights into criminal behavior and their reflection of the wider culture. I tend to agree with him here, and think that marginalizing such cases costs us an opportunity to reflect. Worse still is that we allow the cases to become public theater (think Casey Anthony), which only makes the general public more liable to marginalize these cases.

I do think the book is interesting, and worth a read if you're interested in true crime. I also think it could have been sharper in places, so don't expect this to stack up to James's best baseball work.

I can't imagine there are many people who read this who aren't friends on Facebook, but in case you're not, I can announce that the family unit has increased by one with the birth of our second son. And while there is still plenty of novelty stemming from the new baby's personality, I can see now why kids born later get the short shrift. We've taken many fewer pictures of the baby number two than of the first one, and we spent a significantly smaller amount of time planning and prepping for the new baby. A couple of brief refreshers, put the crib back together, get clothes back from the people we lent to when they had babies, and that's it. I swear we will not half-ass his rearing the same way we've loafed through the previous nine months.

(Note: the one area we did not skimp on at all was pre-natal care. Doesn't matter how many kids you have, see your doctor regularly, take your vitamins, etc.)

The re-introduction to things like feedings every two hours or so and the joy that is meconium (look it up if you don't know what that is - just avoid sites with pictures) has gone pretty smoothly (the actual birthing and post-birthing could have gone better, but the wife has rebounded nicely). Hopefully we'll be out of here on Thursday so we can finally see how the older child reacts to having a baby in the house full time. He's been marginally interested up to now - hospital visits are mostly spent trying to flip any switch left unmanned - but has at least acknowledged the baby's presence. He's also regularly spent time with his 11 month-old cousin since that child was born, even having a couple of long weekends where they stayed together. So hopefully the idea of having a baby around all the time isn't a problem.

What might be a problem, though, is that the older son enjoys to get into the crib and tub that we used on him and have brought out/reassembled for the new baby. Need to make sure that stops when child number two is actually using them.

So far so good, though. Keep your fingers crossed.

Dear U.S. Treasury Department:

With word that the Presidential dollar coin program has been shuttered, I'd like to think that the third time is the charm when it comes to realizing that a dollar coin, given the current state of our currency, is not going to work. I assume at some point you'll try this again (or be compelled to try it again), so with that in mind here is my plan for Making it Better: the Dollar Coin.

1. Get rid of the $1 bill.  It should be obvious that this has to happen before anything else. People are conditioned to use bills, and given a choice between a bill and a coin they'll revert to the bill. Cash registers are set up to take $1 bills, as are most vending machines (though many can take dollar coins as well). Both Canada and the UK stopped printing one dollar/pound notes to phase in the coin replacement, which took root as the bills left circulation. You don't do this, the $1 coin will never work.

2. Make it thick. The one pound coin in the UK is easy to pick out of a pocketful of change, as it's noticeably thicker than other coins. With all the focus on trying to find a unique diameter for the $1 coin, you've rejected the obvious dimension for differentiating it from other coins.

3. Throw in another obvious tactile difference. Just in case thickness doesn't seem like enough of a difference, you could make the coin non-round (check out the UK's 50p coin for an example) or go with a bi-metallic design such as the UK 2 pound or Canadian $2 coins. You could also do something with the edge of the coin, such as leave the edges smooth or use something other than the traditional milled edges. If you can get Braille on the Alabama state quarter, you can get some sort of raised design on a dollar coin.

4. Keep Washington on the dollar. I'm not particularly wedded to this - he is on the quarter, after all - but I figure this would be a sop to the traditionalists. You could also transfer future versions of the 50 State Quarters program to the dollar coin, which I figure would boost circulation, even if artificially.

5. Move the lettered Federal Reserve Seal to the $5. There is a subset of people who like knowing where their $1 bills came from - be they Where's George? enthusiasts or not - and moving the seal that uses the Federal Reserve Bank letter to the $5 will soften the blow of losing the one dollar bill.

I hope this helps, and look forward to seeing these suggestions implemented when you try dollar coins again sometime around 2023.

Book Log 2011 #36: The Jefferson Key by Steve Berry


This latest installment in the Cotton Malone series brings the action to America, where he has to stop a group of modern-day pirates who claim to operate under the auspices of the Constitution's provision for privateers. The pirates have had their status challenged by a small number of Presidents - Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Kennedy - and they've responded in the same way each time. An attempt on the life of the current President sparks the hunt for the documents that would prove the pirate's legal status, a hunt that brings the usual mayhem that seems to follow Malone.

I was curious to see how this would play out, as US-based thrillers of this ilk tend to focus on Freemasons or the Illuminati or such groups. It's refreshing to see a new twist, even though it's not quite believable that the person who originally took the documents in question - Andrew Jackson - wouldn't just burn them. I suppose he wanted to keep the pirates in limbo in case he needed them, but there's still a weakness to the premise. It's not The Paris Vendetta weak, but it's not great.

Even so, if you've read the series it's a decent continuation. I see that Berry's next book is a stand-alone work, which will hopefully give him some time to get this series back to the more solid footing of its earlier entries.

Book Log 2011 #35: Procession of the Dead by Darren Shan


A young man named Capac Raimi arrives in the City - that's all we're told of it, no idea of where or when this city is located - to start work with his uncle's minor criminal enterprise. He finds the City disagreeable, between the noise, the occasional green fog, and the micro-rainfalls that attract blind people. But he goes on his first job for his uncle, only to have everyone killed but him, so he can be taken to the Cardinal, the crime lord who essentially runs the city. The Cardinal wants to talk to him because Raimi is slated to take the Cardinal's place - someday.  From this point, Raimi enjoys a meteoric rise in the City's hierarchy, but questions linger. Who is the Cardinal? Why did he pick Raimi to be his successor? What's the deal with the green fog, the rain, and the blind guys?

All of this is answered, to varying degrees of satisfaction. There's an intent to make this some sort of fantasy noir, and I can't say that it fully succeeds in either case. The fantasy aspects of the book is more solid than the noir aspect - not surprisingly, as Shan made his name in young adult fantasy.  The fantasy aspects of the book also feel a little rough, which I suppose is also not surprising, as Shan wrote the book early in his career and saw it re-released when he became better established.

It's not a bad book, but there's an ambiguity in the story line that can make things confusing and, at times, a little ponderous. It's the first book of a trilogy, which makes me wonder if there was a focus on establishing things that took away from the book. Anyway, read with caution.

Book Log 2011 #34: The Complaints by Ian Rankin

With Inspector Rebus now retired after 17 novels, Rankin has moved on to Malcolm Fox, an officer in the Complaints and Conduct department - "the Complaints" - a Scottish version of what we'd know as Internal Affairs. After finishing a case involving a cop with a history of breaking rules, Fox is put on an investigation of a young officer suspected of involvement with child pornography. As this investigation unfolds, Fox also becomes involved in the murder of his sister's boyfriend and the suicide of a local property developer. When it becomes clear that all of these cases are related, Fox has to walk a tightrope to solve them without getting himself killed - or get caught by his own department for his own lapses during the investigation.

I've only read one of the Rebus novels, so it's hard for me to compare the two men. Publisher's Weekly did and found Fox- and this book - wanting, but like many reviewers I disagree. I found Fox an interesting character, someone who willingly takes on a job that leads most of his colleagues to hate him but who also crosses the lines he typically defends. I did think the plot was a bit too convoluted, though I did appreciate the way it allowed Rankin to show off various bits of Scotland, which is one of his strengths.

Perhaps it will take a couple of novels to fully flesh Fox out - the second one came out this year - and I'd say it's worth the effort to find out.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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. 

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Book Log 2011 #18: Scorecasting by Tobias Moskowitz and L. Jon Wertheim

I'm not sure if it's the writing or if the novelty of the Freakonomics approach has worn off, but I could not get into this book. I dutifully plowed through the first few chapters, but with an increasing reluctance to continue that saw me bail after about 100 pages. I have no specific complaints about the book, so I'm assuming I'm just sick of the approach. Maybe I'll give it a year and try again. Or maybe not.

Book Log 2011 #17: At Home by Bill Bryson

Bryson was inspired to write this history of domestic living by his house in England, a Victorian style former parsonage located in a part of the country where not much happens. While the actual history of the house does crop up, the bulk of the book is a history of each room, and what goes on there.

Of course, each of those little histories winds up leading well outside the walls, looking at everything from Victorian class structure to the spice trade to the Crystal Palace.

It's not as overtly humorous as his other works, and has more in common with A Short History of Nearly Everything than his travel-related titles. I mostly enjoyed it, but felt bogged down towards the end and didn't actually finish. I think I'd have liked to see it ten percent shorter and ten percent funnier.

Book Log 2011 #16: The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest by Stieg Larsson

Fitting conclusion to the Millenium series, as things wrap up cleanly enough to make this feel like a trilogy rather than the ten book series that was planned. Which is a good thing, as the likelihood of a completed fourth book ever seeing the light of day is pretty slim (Larsson's partner has his material, while the rights to the book are held by his father and brother, and none of the parties seem interested in working something out).

Over a month since my last post? Whoops. Not dead, just pining for the fjords. More later.

Book Log 2011 #15: It Must Have Been Something I Ate by Jeffrey Steingarten

More witty and informative essays by the food critic from Vogue, with topics ranging from the merits of fancy salts to where to get the best baguettes in Paris. Many of the essays are over 10 years old, leading to some dating, but all told it's a solid collection. My only problem was that reading it cover to cover did lead to some author fatigue, as I can only take so much drollery at a time. Better to read in chunks, I think.

Book Log 2011 #14: Palace of Justice by Suzanne Alleyn

Depending on how you count it, this is either the second or most recent book featuring Parisian writer-turned-investigator Aristide Ravel. This time, Ravel is faced with what appears to be a serial killer who decapitates his victims, a grim parallel to the people, from Louis XVI on down, who are being guillotined by the Tribunal. Political turmoil and Ravel's own past come into play as well, giving added depth to the story.

While I did read the books out of their narrative order, it was kind of cool to see how the events here fit into the overall story (and would have been more entertaining if I'd read the books closer together). Enjoyed it quite a bit.

Book Log 2011 #13: West and East by Harry Turtledove

The second book in The War That Came Early, a series based on the idea that World War II would have started earlier had Neville Chamberlain not appeased Hitler. I've read that the series will be at least six books, and it kind of feels that was from this one, as there are things that happen, a couple things even notable, but nothing momentous. It did keep my interest enough to want to continue with the series, which is a good thing.

Book Log 2011 #12: Hubert's Freaks by Gregory Gibson

A rare book dealer and collector of ephemera named Bob Langmuir, after buying a storage locker full of items from a Manhattan freak show, discovers that the lot may include several Diane Arbus prints. Battling a troubled personal life (including at least one hospitalization), Langmuir finds himself caught in a very deliberate - and sometimes unusual - authentication process.http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

There's some similarities in the stories of Langmuir and Arbus - both were troubled, attracted to sideshow types, and had some resistance with getting photos accepted by the wider art world - and it's interesting to see how Langmuir persevered while Arbus, eventually, did not.

This did remind me of The Man Who Loved Books Too Much a bit, and I have the same general feeling about this book as that one, though I think the ending here is stronger. Worth a look, if just to see the pictures.