Showing posts with label 2013 Mount TBR Reading Challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2013 Mount TBR Reading Challenge. Show all posts

Friday, April 05, 2013

Book 41: Bitten

 
I think everyone was reading this series during CBRIII (or maybe II - either way, lots of reviews), though I'm not sure if I remember any for this novel in particular, the one that started the series, or if everyone else had already been reading it for some time.  It sounded fun enough to pick up the first novel, even I never quite felt like I was in the mood to read it - as much as everyone liked the series, I couldn't quite get beyond the cover (which is weird because covers didn't stop me from starting the Sookie Stackhouse novels).
 
It was actually a nice break from what I have been reading to just enjoy some lighter fantasy fare (it's not like I've only been reading deep novels, but even the Harry Hole series isn't exactly a fun ride as much as a dark one).  Elena is a werewolf, living in Toronto, and attempting to assimilate.  She lives with her boyfriend Philip who doesn't know about her other side but when she receives a call from Jeremy, the Pack Alpha, she has no choice but to answer his summons, partially just to avoid Philip's questions, and partially because she is worried about what could be going badly enough to cause a call.
 
The novel gives quite a bit of background on werewolves in Armstrong's world, but she does so in an engaging manner - there are only 35 werewolves in the world, most of these are hereditary, only three, including Elena, are the result of being bitten (many people don't survive the changeover after being bitten hence the rarity), and it is passed through the males of the bloodline making Elena the only female werewolf.  Addtionally, werewolves either belong to the Pack or are "mutts," working on their own, never making any place home.  The Pack monitors and polices their behavior, all in the name of ensuring that they don't reveal themselves to outsiders.  Elena's been called in because a body has been discovered near Jeremy's home, the place the Pack uses as its headquarters, and the death was officially the result of a "wild dog," which of course means werewolf attack.  This threatens the Pack's privacy, and the question is which mutt did it, and why he would challenge the Pack.
 
I think this was a very good novel to kick off a series, having just the right amount of background and actual plot to set the stage for further novels.  Elena doesn't explain the story of how she was bitten until more than a hundred pages in, but it seems rather obvious much earlier who did it due to the relationships within the Pack.  Elena is struggling with who she is vs who she wants to be, and the two men that make up the love triangle that Elena is in represent these two views of herself.  This isn't exactly a well-balanced love triangle, though, since it is obvious who the author supports and therefore wants the reader to support based on Elena's behavior.
 
One thing I'm hoping to see in the rest of the series is definitely more women - with the exception of a short interaction about dresses with Philip's sister, this novel wouldn't pass the Bleidel test because there are literally no other women characters in the book.  I understand that the author was showing Elena as being the lone woman in a man's world, where the men see women as sex objects, and are raised by their fathers.  There is some violence against women described in the novel as well.  While I think it worked for this novel as part of the set up, I hope that there are more women in the rest of the series (and considering that I know some of them deal with witches, I don't have to worry about that) so that Elean can be one of many women involved in the supernatural rather than an "exceptional woman."

Monday, April 01, 2013

Book 39: The Winter of the World

 
The novel begins with the train carrying the UK's Unknown Warrior to London, and its eventual final resting place in Westminster Abbey.  After this opening, which also has brief appearances by what will soon be the novel's two main characters, the novel flashes back a few months to earlier in 1920.  Alex Dyer, a journalist, is back in France to cover the rebuilding of Flanders and France, and the types of things that are being done to commemorate the war's dead.  While there, he ends up sharing his story with one of the men involved in the work at the cemeteries (I'm not entirely clear if he's a grave digger, gardener or a combination of the two).
 
Alex was a war correspondent during World War I for England, and while he didn't always agree with the way the war was being reported to the public, he did his job, and also appeased himself with the idea that he would publish the whole truth after the war.  Shortly before Alex leaves for France to cover the war, he meets his best friend Ted one last time and is introduced to Ted's fiance Clare with whom he immediately falls in love.  She, too, feels this attraction, but neither act on it nor does Clare use these new feelings for a different man as a reason to prevent her wedding.  With Clare as a nurse, Ted as an officer, and Alex working as a journalist, all three are on the Western Front at the same time, though there are only one or two instances of the group meeting up at any point.
 
In addition to showing Alex's perspective, the novel occasionally switches to Clare's views, and shows her feelings and thoughts, and the daily life of a nurse during World War I, dealing with the young broken men she sees.  After the war, she continues to work with these men, serving as an assistant to a plastic surgeon of sorts, a doctor that creates life-like masks for the men with facial disfigurements to wear so they can continue on with their lives.  Given the framing of the story, it is of course no surprise to discover that Alex and Clare indeed have an affair though they are clearly on the outs by the beginning of the novel, two years after the war.
 
The novel was strongest when it focused on the details of the war, and I think I would quite enjoy reading a novel or history book about nursing during WWI.  I also quite enjoyed the way the author portrayed the nation two years after the war - on the one hand, they want to move on and veterans have a hard time finding jobs but on the other hand, the nation is not done grieving and has not let go of its dead, as can be seen with the overwhelming support and reaction to the Unknown Warrior (I've actually seen the tomb twice, and it really is very moving).  Clare at one point even says that the nation is much more concerned about the dead but has forgotten the living, something she can see especially in her line of work.  It's easy to hail someone as a a war hero when he has given a limb for his nation, but no one knows how to react to someone that has basically lost their face with anything other than horror.  The love story was sudden but not necessarily bad.  However, there was one point at the end of the novel that just felt like it was done more to progress the plot than because it was a natural decision on the character's view.  I understood the character's motivation, but not why he would choose to act on it - it just didn't make sense to me other than to get to the next step in the story.  As a result, I felt slightly taken out of the story, and didn't care as much about something that Alex decides to do at the end.  Still, I liked the perspectives the novel did well, and would definitely be curious to read some of this author's nonfiction.

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Mount TBR: March Checkpoint

I've read 24 out of the 36 necessary for Mount Vancouver, which is 67% complete.  I've read 41 books total for the year so 59% of the books I've read have been from the "to read" pile.  I'll take that as a win.  Additionally, I've been tracking the number of books I buy, and I've bought 35 this year which puts me in the plus column, having decreased my to read pile by 6 total.  Here is the complete list of books read for this challenge.
 
I had to double check purchase dates on Amazon to determine which one I've owned the longest, but the one that has sat unread the longest is either My Cousin Rachel (ordered December 2009) or Gates of Fire . . . I don't actually know when I bought this one since I didn't buy it online but I'm pretty confident that I had it in Germany which would mean I've had it at least as long as My Cousin Rachel, and probably a bit longer.  I liked both and while I wish I hadn't let them sit this long, I also didn't love either one so much that I regret not getting around to them previously.
 

Monday, March 25, 2013

Book 38: The Magicians

 
It seems like almost everyone has read this novel at this point.  The reviews I've read have tended to be more positive than negative, though most agreed on the fact that Quentin, the main character, was not very likeable or sympathetic.  As a result, I felt like I was rather prepared for what was coming, and knew ahead of time not to be too frustrated if I disliked Quentin.  Honestly, the first part of the novel, I didn't even think he was that bad.  He was a bit snobby towards his parents because he thought they couldn't relate to him, but I get the feeling there's lot of college students that feel that way about their parents and going home for break, magical or not.  It wasn't until after graduation that he really started to grate on me.
 
Quentin has always been one of the gifted kids, working hard to get the grades and to get into the advanced classes so he will be able to get into the right college.  At the beginning of the novel, however, Quentin suddenly has an unexpected opportunity to take the entrance exam into Brakebills, a magical college.  He passes the exams and is accepted as one of the 20 first years to make up his class at Brakebills, a five year school.  Almost half of the novel chronicles his time at Brakebills, his developing relationships with other students including Alice and Penny, and later the Physicals (basically, the kids are all grouped together after their second year based on their discipline or major).  Alice and Quentin both skip a grade, and as a result aren't quite as involved with the rest of their year group, focusing much more on the other Physicals.  I didn't have any issues with this part of the novel, but at some point, I realized it was taking me much longer to get through than I would have expected, and this may be because there wasn't anything specific going on.  The students go to class, the reader is introduced to the concepts of magic in this world and how much work it is, and then they graduate.  It was at this point, that the novel went from a slow read to an unpleasant experience for me.  After graduating, the alumni have to return to the real world and figure out their lives and what they want to do - there isn't a magical world for them to inhabit, so while there are positions that would involve them working for the magical community, for the most part, if they want to do something with their lives, it involves working in the real world, and maybe using magic to guide certain decisions and policies.
 
Alice, who was my favorite character, decided to remain in New York with the other Physicals and pursue her relationship with Quentin, but she is the only one who still takes an interest in learning, and finding some type of meaning in her life and actions, a fear she has due to her parents.  Quentin and the others, on the other hand, waste their time with drinking, drugs and parties until Quentin and Alice's relationship is incredibly frayed.  At this point, Penny, a student from Quentin and Alice's original year group, shows up and announces that he has found a way to get to Fillory, a magical world all of them are familiar with due to their childhood love of the novels set in Fillory.  Fillory is of course an allusion to Narnia, saving Grossman the time of creating a new world from scratch since he can rely on his readers to fill in the blanks.  Yet even as the characters plan their trip to this magical land, I wanted to shake all of them.  Only Eliot really seems to get it, while the rest speak of becoming kings and queens, of riches they could gain, and discuss the possibilty of bringing guns into a land that doesn't have them.  When they are finally in Fillory, I quite enjoyed one local character's comment when they start getting unhappy with the outcome there, which was basically, "we didn't want invite you, we didn't want you to turn our home into your little fantasy land."
 
Basically, as a story, the novel wasn't as engaging as I'd hoped, partially because the characters' inability to figure out their lives really irritated me.  There's a reason I haven't read On the Road.  However, some of the points within the novel aren't bad, and Grossman basically portrays Quentin as an unhappy character that relies on circumstances to make him happy rather than to find something on his own.  He also has a hard time taking responsibility for his actions, and has a few somewhat sexist or misogynist moments.  Overall, I didn't dislike it, I just found some of the characters frustrating (loved Alice, though), and wish it had sucked me in more than it did.  It was basically the definition of an okay book - it wasn't good, it wasn't bad, there was definitely some potential and good parts but not quite enough.

Monday, March 18, 2013

Book 36: Ready Player One

 
Taking place in 2044, this novel follows the adventures of Wade Watts, or Parzival as he is known in OASIS, the virtual reality/internet/gaming network that has come to dominate pop culture, media and recreation in the future.  The creator of this virtual reality, Halliday, died over five years ago, and in his will, he left his 240 billion dollar fortune to whoever could win the game he created in the OASIS and complete his quest.  Halliday afficionados know that to solve this quest they need to have an extensive working knowledge of all things '80s, Halliday's major obsession, and Wade is one of many "gunters" or egg hunters that has studied Halliday's life and the '80s in preparation for his quest.  Unfortunately, Wade comes from a poor background, and it affects his ability to travel in this virtual world (he has access to books and media files for free) where transportation from one planet to the other requires money (real or virtual) or a vehicle of some sort.  Access and usage of the OASIS is free but within that program everything has a cost.  Wade only has access to his one world where he attends school and has no idea how to get more money or how to narrow down on which of several thousands of worlds the first challenge is located.  However, while lost in thought in his OASIS Latin class, Wade finally makes that first connection that will allow him to discover the first key and be the first person to show up on the score board.
 
Wade's accomplishment leads to renewed interest in the quest, and also makes Wade a person of interest for the "Sixers" and IOI, a corporation that has a whole staff section dedicated to the search for the egg since this would allow them to make even more money off of the program - considering how much money people spend within the game on luxury items and what not, they have already made a good chunk selling things.  When their recruitment efforts fail, the corporation resorts to death threats, and even sets off a bomb in the trailer stacks Wade lives in.  I thought the second part of the novel dragged a little bit because Wade got distraced from his quest for the second key and the second gate.  The first part or "Level 1" included a good set up of Wade's world, the concept of the OASIS and his discovery of the first challenge.  However, in the second level he spends a lot of time talking about his new fame, buying things, going on side quests and attempting to romance a fellow gunter named Art3mis who was the second name on the score board rather than trying to solve the quatrain/riddle pointing to the Jade Key
 
When taken simply as an adventure quest story, the novel was a lot of fun though occasionally cheesy - I mean, anything focused on '80s culture is going to have some cheese.  Evil corporation, plucky young hero, sassy love interest - they are all there.  However, I feel like there were implications in the novel that either weren't dealt with, simply brushed off or addressed with one little sentence at the end along the lines of "don't confuse virtual reality with reality."  I know the things I'm about to bring up weren't even the point of the novel but it is definitely what came up in my head.  As much as I wanted to root for Wade, in other cases I also wanted to shake him as a representation of the future.  Wade mentions a few times that things in the future have gotten very bad so most people spend the majority of their time in OASIS, avoiding reality for the virtual world.  Most of these people don't even have the excuse that they're gunters and hunting for the prize.  Instead, there is a whole Brave New World situation where the OASIS has become the drug that people use to avoid the reality (although, I'm not completely sure how this works after being told that there is an energy and power crisis).  Instead of trying to fix the world, they just escape to a fake one.  Wade doesn't really talk about this much, focusing on the positives of this system.  He doesn't vote in the real US elections because they are pointless but he votes in the OASIS one?  Does Cline even realize what he is saying there?  Am I as a reader supposed to want Wade to stop caring only about what is going on in a game and maybe try to make a difference?  I mean obviously if he wins, he could use that money for good, but the only character to mention this is actually Art3mis, the love interest.  It's easy enough to root for Wade over the corporation but in the end, will it change anything?  Will Wade make a difference that actually matters?  Still, the idea of the OASIS is rather amazing - the ability to have all kinds of knowledge at one's fingertips, the ability to at least see representations of the world whenever desired.  Unfortunately, in the world portrayed most people aren't using it for this type of self improvement and are instead using it as an escape and a status symbol.  However, as long as one can avoid philosophical thoughts, it's a simple and engaging story.

Friday, March 15, 2013

Book 34: The Swerve

The Swerve: How the World Became Modern by Stephen Greenblatt
 
Greenblatt is most famously known for his books on Shakespeare, or at least, that's why I know the name even though I haven't read any of them.  This book explores the rediscovery of antique works in Christian Europe around the time of the Renaissance, and the premise reminded me of Petrarch, a name I vaguely remembered from college history classes.  This book focuses specifically on Lucretius' poem On the Nature of Things and the book hunter Poggio Braccioloni who lived about a generation or two after Petrarch.  I definitely enjoyed the book but I also think the back cover and the title in itself may be a bit misleading regarding the book's topic and argument.
 
 For example, this is straight from the book description section on Amazon: "One of the world's most celebrated scholars, Stephen Greenblatt has crafted both an innovative work of history and a thrilling story of discovery, in which one manuscript, plucked from a thousand years of neglect, changed the course of human thought and made possible the world as we know it."  However, while Greenblatt choose to focus on this particular manuscript, he doesn't make the argument that it alone changed the world or caused modernity - he makes an argument that it had an influence and a role, but so did several other things.  While I don't want to argue about the importance of Lucretius's work specifically, to me, the book read less as an argument of how Lucretius changed thoughts, and more of an example of how things were changing in general, and this particular poem was used to show the journey that many others would have been taking at this point in time.  On the Nature of Things has some unique viewpoints and perspectives it brought to the table, but the story of its discovery is probably representative of many other works.
 
The book begins with a personal anecdote of how Greenblatt himself first came to read the ancient poem, and then tells the story of how Poggio Braccioloni discovered the manuscript in an unnamed German monastery in 1417.  From here, Greenblatt backs up to tell the story of Poggio's life, to explain life at the Vatican at this time period (Poggio was a papal secretary; his refusal to take vows meant certain avenues of power were closed, but he still did well for himself), and provide context to the renewed interest in ancient texts, beginning with Petrarch, the Humanist and the elite of Florence, where Poggio rubbed shoulders with several scholars before moving on to Rome.  He also puts the piece in its proper historical context.  Lucretius was a follower of Epicurus, and Epicurean philosophy.  The simple idea is that the most important thing in life is pleasure but not in the way that one would now think upon hearing that term - the emphasis isn't on crazy over the top luxury, but simple pleasures such as doing good, being with loved ones etc.  There is also a big science aspect to it, including the idea that the universe is composed of an infinite amount of atoms that rearrange themselves to create new things.  The philosophy also isn't too concerned with gods - it doesn't say they don't exist, but says they have no interest in humans, and that there is no such thing as an afterlife.  However, while Lucretius (approximately 96BC-50BC) may have been read, this philosophy didn't even necessarily sit that well with ancient beliefs so he was known but not necessarily incredibly well known or influential even in his own time.  From here, Greenblatt discusses the spread of Christianity, and the changing priorities - the libraries of places like Alexandria were partially destroyed, and partially allowed to fall apart as the men and women responsible for maintaining them and their ideas fell out of favor.  It was disheartening to read how in the focus on religion, early Christianity appeared to toss aside the ancient knowledge as seductive and/or distracting.  As a result, many pieces were lost - even now, after concerted efforts of recovery there are many ancient authors who are only known due to being mentioned or cited by other authors though none of their pieces survive.  On the Nature of Things was almost lost, but Poggio happened to discover a copy of a copy of a copy that had been moldering away in a monastery.
 
After giving all this context, Greenblatt explained what Poggio most likely did with the piece, and notes that he does not appear to have referred to it again beyond telling his friend he'd like it back to read it.  A few people may have read it and it appears to have circulated a bit in Florence and forward from there but it is hard to tell what the initial reactions were or if the poem made much of an impact.  After a chapter that breaks down in very easy terms exactly what scientific and philosophical beliefs On the Nature of Things expresses, Greenblatt focuses the last sixty pages on some philosophers and great thinkers that appear to have been influenced and familiar with the ideas expressed in Lucretius's work.  While it was generally interesting, I'm not sure if I was ever entirely convinced of this poem's importance, partially because many of its ideas are now seen as basic science.  As a result, I'm not sure if the examples used in The Swerve were influenced by On the Nature of Things specifically or other similar works, though Greenblatt doesn't mention the existence or absence of such works.
 
Overall, I thought it was an informative snapshot of a particular moment and movement in history, and it isn't a story I've read elsewhere in the same detail so I quite enjoyed that part.  My major complaints are the aforementioned misleading statements regarding the marketing and advertising because I don't feel like the book argued how the world became modern or how this poem specifically was the catalyst for such (at least, not a very strong case).  Obviously, Greenblatt showed some people had been influenced by some of its beliefs, but slowly, and as I said, only a few (such as Jefferson) directly quoted or referenced Lucretius or Epicurean philosophy.  My other complaint was the lack of footnotes.  The book had end notes but since they weren't cited or marked in any way on the page, I didn't realize this until I flipped to the end.  This isn't a complaint exclusive to this book, though - it seems like editors or publishers of some of the popular history books don't think the audience care about citations or where information came from, so they just hide it all at the back.  Personally, I would love to have footnotes so I can get those extra details, and I don't have to flip back and forth, but at the least they should make sure the reader is aware that a particular point on a page has a citation or end note.  However, (and I may be wrong) I don't think this was Greenblatt's decision so I can't blame that or even the way the book was marketed given that he even stated in the beginning that Lucretius wasn't the thing that set modernity in motion, just one important piece of many.

Tuesday, March 05, 2013

Book 30: A Red Herring Without Mustard


This is the third novel in a mystery series centered around eleven year old Flavia DeLuce, taking place in 1950s England. Flavia lives in the family home with her two older sisters, both whom she describes as torturers (usually, they have at least one or two sweet moments in a novel, but in this one, Ophelia and Daphne seemed to have declared all out war on Flavia), her slightly distant father, and Dogger, all around handy man. Additionally, there is a housekeeper/cook who takes care of the family on a daily basis, while Flavia's mother died during a mountain climbing incident when Flavia was only 1 (I keep waiting for there to be more to this than there is). Flavia is amateur chemist, having long ago claimed a deceased uncle's laboratory as her own, and spends much of her time conducting experiments and reading about poisons.

In this novel, Flavia accidentally sets fire to a gypsy woman's tent at a fair and as a result offers the woman use of the Palings, a field on the family land, for her caravan that night. Late that night/early the next morning, Flavia goes to visit the woman, and finds her beaten in her trailer. Flavia's quick response and fetching of the doctor saves the woman's live, but now Flavia has found a case to solve. Who beat the gypsy and why? What was that one woman talking about when she said the gypsy had stolen her child? Why did Flavia stumble upon Buckie in her house the same night the gypsy was beaten? Are these incidents related? And what is with that fishy smell?

Given that the main character is 11, the novels don't get too gruesome or dangerous and stay away from certain topics. Overall, they are sweet, slightly quirky fun. In this one, Flavia even makes a new friend of sorts. While I can definitely understand how Flavia would be an incredibly obnoxious and nosy little sister, but it seemed like her sisters' reactions in this novel went beyond annoyance and disdain. Then again, I don't know much about sibling relationships, and Flavia may have been taking things too seriously. A theme that has been running through the books is the family's financial problems due to Harriet's (the dead mother) lack of will, so I'm curious to see if the novels will simply continue showing the family in constraints or if Bradley will actually make the family relocate or come up with something else. Actually, three novels in, I'm ready for there to be a bit more time progression, so maybe by the next one Flavia will be 12. Otherwise, we're looking at an awful lot of incidents in such a small town in a small period of time.

Monday, March 04, 2013

Book 29: City of Dark Magic

 
When I read the description of this novel, I was both intrigued and worried.  It sounded like fun, but it also kind of sounded like A Discovery of Witches due to the mix of characters and European setting.  And I didn't like A Discovery of Witches very much, a novel which took a fun concept and dragged it out with too much description and a boring main character (in fact it was one of my more scathing reviews last year).  Still, this novel was set in Prague, so I was cautiously optimistic.  I love Prague!  Also, once I realized that Magnus Flyte is actually a pen name for two authors writing together, one of whom I like (at least I liked Meg Howrey's novel The Cranes Dance), it made me feel even more reassured.
 
Sarah, the main character, is a grad student focused on Beethoven and brain activity related to music.  She receives an invitation to assist with the creation of the Lobkowicz Museum in Prague now that the castle is back in the hand's of the heirs following confiscations by the Nazis and then the Communist government.  The seventh Lobkowicz was one of Beethoven's patrons, so she is excited about the opportunity though not quite sure why she was chosen.  She soon discovers that her mentor and thesis advisor is actually working on the project and the reason she was invited - unfortunately by the time she realizes this, he is already dead in Prague, an apparent suicide.  In addition to exploring the collection for letters and references to Beethoven, she now also wants to investigate the death.  She also gets caught up in intrigue and espionage dating back to the KGB's presence in Prague, and some secrets that a certain American senator would rather keep hidden.
 
The cast includes various eccentric and quirky academics, all of whom are working on various aspects of the collection, such as a woman who studies 17th century women artists, a Lesbian weapons expert from Texas, and various others.  Sarah's friend Pols, a blind child prodigy, manages to make herself a part of the intrigue through sheer force of will.  Prince Max, the current heir who is responsible for bringing them all together, also keeps showing up, and may have more knowledge about the professor's death.  Sarah finds herself drawn to him though she feels he may be keeping some things from him.  There is also Niccolas, a dwarf, who works for or with Max, and seems to know quite a bit abot various things.  Personally, I wouldn't have minded a whole novel just from Nicco's perspective.
 
Overall, it was an amusing story, though I wonder about the marketing.  It seems like many of the negative reviews are from people who were expecting another A Discovery of Witches.  This novel is far more humorous, though there were parts that were kind of gross (eating toe nails for their drug residue).  In fact, some parts of the humor reminded me more of Chris Moore than a romantic novel.  There is of course a love story - it has a prince after all, but even with that, some of the sex scenes seemed like something Chris Moore would describe.  I know some people didn't appreciate the sex or the fact that Sarah hooks up with a guy in a bathroom within the first few chapters, and while I wouldn't encourage that kind of behavior, I also found it very refreshing to have a heroine that was not only sexually active, but also sexually aggressive and not afraid to take or ask for what she wanted.  It just gets irritating sometimes when the characters are in their twenties or older, and are still virginal or have never had good sex.
 
The novel was far from perfect and the plot was a bit convoluted at some points with the two different plot angles (which converge a bit, but not completely).  The ending also clearly left the possibility of a sequel open.  Overall, I don't think I'd run around recommending this but I certainly preferred it to other novels, and it was entertaining enough.  I also think there is potential if these authors continue to write together because I would say the things I liked outweighed the things I didn't care for as much.

Friday, March 01, 2013

Book 27: A Letter of Mary

 
While I was incredibly disappointed with the second Mary Russell novel, I had already purchased the third one in the series.  I decided to revisit the series this past week, and I have to say I liked the third installment much more.  While I felt like the last novel took too much time to get to the actual mystery portion, which then ended up being rather weak, this novel started the case almost right away.  A few days after a friend visits Mary Russell and her husband Sherlock Holmes, Holmes notices a piece in the paper requesting assistance identifying the victim of a hit and run.  Her description matches their friend's appearance, and the couple is quickly enroute to London to identify the body, and determine whether this truly was an accident.  Of course, all the signs point to foul play, and the rest of the novel involves Russell and Holmes trying to track the killer, determine who had the motive, the means and the opportunity.
 
There were a few other things that I found much improved in this novel from the previous two: Russell didn't get hurt during the investigation.  In the first novel, she ends up hurt while protecting someone, in the second she gets turned into a damsel in distress and has a long recovery period, so I was very happy when the narrator of the story didn't end up in a tight spot or a hospital in this one.  King also didn't bring up Russell's age until over halfway through so it was easy to ignore the fact that Russell is only 23 years old to Holmes mid-50s, and their relationship is described in very set and comfortable ways.  I found the weird sexual tension/relationship between Holmes and Russell distracting in the last one, while here they seemed more like friends or partners that happened to be married.  Still, there is something about this novel that was just slightly off to me, and I think it is related to Russell.  I don't dislike her as a character but I don't love her.  While I don't expect her to solve the case when Sherlock Holmes is there, the author intended her to be an equal.  While she is smart, there were a few times where she just seemed a bit slower about things than she should have been, and was made more fragile than I wanted, such as her near fainting spell at the morgue.  Maybe it's more accurate for the time period, but I could pass on some of these types of things in the character (the narrator states she has an issue with car accidents due to a past incident but I still could have done without the near passing out followed by her taking a long nap from exhaustion), especially since the novels otherwise emphasize her intelligence, resilience and uniqueness.
 
Before her death, their friend Dorothy Ruskin had given Mary a box containing an old letter, possibly written by Mary Magdalene and addressed to her sister right before the fall of Jersualem.  Two experts had dismissed the letter, and while Ruskin knew she would get nowhere with it, she still believed it was authentic, hence her gift to Mary.  As the pair of detectives pursue the case, the question becomes Dorothy was killed because of her work and the uproar this letter could cause to the Christian community (Mary as one of the apostles), her involvement with the Zionist movement or more personal reasons.  The novel involves various disguises and undercover missions to find the truth as well as various chats with Mycroft.  The story was relatively straightforward but it was a fun romp, and the setting in the past certainly helped matters.  I'd have to get further into the series to determine if I'd actually recommend it, but now that I'm three novels in, I'll probably continue onward.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Book 25: The Tiger's Wife

 
I never know about award winning novels: on the one hand, the awards occasionally introduce me to amazing novels I wouldn't have noticed otherwise but sometimes their opinions and mine just don't mesh.  That is somewhat the case when it comes to The Tiger's Wife.  Tea Obreht is originally from Serbia, one of the countries that was once part of Yugoslavia, before war and bloodshed.  Her novel deals with war, conflict, ethnic differences, and tells the story of coming of age in an unnamed war torn city.  And while I feel like I should care about this, I had a hard time actually feeling that way.  I felt too distant from the narrator, Natalia, to truly care what was going on with her specifically.  At the beginning of the novel, she is enroute to give vaccines to children in an orphanage when she finds out that her grandfather has died in a random village, confusing his family.  Though accompanied by her best friend, she keeps the information to herself and seems rather numb.  For the rest of the novel, she reflects on her childhood, growing up with her mom and grandparents, the war, and the stories her grandfather used to tell as well as the stories of her grandfather she learned later in life.
 
Natalia remembers visiting the tigers at the zoo with her grandfather until the zoo was closed down by the war, though she never quite understood his interest in them.  While I was never completely drawn into the modern day part of the story with only a few exceptions, I quite enjoyed the vignettes and two stories that played such an important role in Natalia's grandfather's life.  One of these is the deathless man, whom the grandfather comes across at various times throughout his life, a man who cannot die and also ends up playing a small supporting role in the tiger's wife story, though it isn't clear if the grandfather knew this.  The tale of the tiger's wife was a beautifully written fairy tale like story set during the World War II, and is about her grandfather's village and a tiger that escaped from the city's zoo during bombing, making its way north.  It is sad, tragic and poignantly written.  The characters are written with redeeming qualities or enough of a backstory to give them some depth, even the ones that end up playing villainous roles.
 
If the novel had stayed in the past, I would have easily said that this was a good novel and recommended it (though I wonder if part of that was simple manipulation - of course, I'm going to feel lots of emotions about an abandoned tiger; I think most people would agree with me that an animal's struggle in a book or movie is almost always more moving than a person's).  Unfortunately, I didn't like the parts set in the modern day or even the previous decade of warfare. It just felt like it could have been so much more but I was apathetic to the main character and her family.  Every once in a while there is an interesting glimpse into their daily lives, but mostly she portrays herself as a dissatisfied teen that grew up to become a doctor like her grandfather.  Additionally, while I enjoyed the stories, the overall narrative is a bit disjointed as a result.  Natalia uses these stories to explain and understand her grandfather but I would have preferred him as the narrator in that case.  In fact, I think that would have been a better novel - the grandfather's perspective of his life and the war.  Basically, I don't quite understand all the attention this novel received - I was emotionally invested for half the novel which may be enough for a lukewarm recommendation but not for an award winning novel.  Natalia was too disconnected from her surroundings and as a result, I was disconnected from her.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Book 23: Midwives

 
While I have enjoyed every Bohjalian novel I've read (though if you are new to him, don't start with The Night Strangers), I was in no real hurry to pick this novel up.  I think sometimes I'm hesitant to read older novels by some authors, afraid they won't be nearly as good as their later work (for example, I really didn't like Chabon's The Mysteries of Pittsburgh), even though some people peak early and can never recapture the magic of earlier novels.  Maybe it was just the fact that the premise of the story didn't interest me as much because I don't plan on having kids or giving birth or anything like that.  Once I picked it up, it was just as good as any other one of his novels.  In fact, I'm kind of surprised he doesn't seem to be a more popular author - his novels have covered a variety of topics, always focus on the characters and their relationships, and some have twists, but since not all of them have twists, I'm not reading the novel expecting a twist, and am instead pleasantly surprised when there is a twist, adding an extra layer of complexity to the narrative I thought I just read.  Given that this particular novel dealt with court room drama, I especially found myself thinking Jodi Picoult fans should totally read him though his novels are better told and written.
 
Connie Danforth, the daughter of midwife Sybil Danforth (she is a lay-midwife, not a nurse midwife) and Rand, narrates the novel several years after the events that are the focus of the story.  In 1981, Sybil attends a homebirth for Charlotte Bedford, and though she originally expected no complications, the labor takes a long time, the expectant mother is exhausted, and Sybil considers transferring her to  the hospital.  Unfortunately, there is also a terrible winter storm that night in March, and the phones are out and the roads impassable - they are stuck in that bedroom in the isolated house in Vermont.  Eventually, Charlotte dies, and Sybil does an emergency casearean to save the baby.  However, Sybil's new assistant and midwife apprentice Anne doubts what she saw, and starts making phone calls to people, implying that Sybil did not save a baby from its dead mother's body - instead, she cut into a living woman, thus killing her.  The rest of the novel examines the after effects of these two very differing views of the events of that evening.
 
Sybil Danforth soon finds herself under investigation, and pressed with charges of involuntary manslaughter and practicing medicine without a license.  Of course, the trial is about much more than how Charlotte died.  It's about two competing views of life and childbirth.  While Charlotte's death could have been seen as unfortunate but an accident, it becomes part of a political agenda - the medical institution vs midwives.  I don't know how divisive of an issue this still is, but I think that as early as my high school AP history class, I was already introduced to do the idea of doctors villainizing midwives due to a documentary about a 18th century midwife whose journal had been discovered.  At first, doctors had no interest in birth since such womanly things were beneath them; however, slowly, the medical profession gained more prestige, and doctors realized there was money to be made, even though in many cases they had no idea of some simple home remedies and instead relied on bad science with no bed manner.  As a result, it added a certain amount of background and depth to this simple story about three women - Charlotte, Sybil and her daughter, Connie.  As a result of this prior knowledge of midwives and women's treatment in medicine (based on various women's studies classes), I found the portrayals here particularly interesting, even though the topic of childbirth in general isn't really something I care about on a personal level (I don't plan on having kids, even if I did, I doubt I'd have a homebirth although that has less to do with fears of something going wrong - though my mom was in labor for 28 hours - and more with the fact that I don't understand why people would want to ruin their own sheets and mattresses when they could mess up the ones at the hospital; I realize that is probably juvenile and somewhat shallow reasoning).
 
Since the story is told from hind sight, the novel reveals different pieces at different times, so that the reader knows about the eventual trial before they know about everything that happened that night.  The whole time I was waiting to see what the trial's outcome would be, and Bohjalian wrapped up the novel in a very satisfying way, giving voice to both sides of the debate, though it would be impossible not to feel for Sybil.
 

Monday, February 18, 2013

Book 22: Every Man Dies Alone

 
"He might be right: whether their act was big or small, no one could risk more than his life.  Each according to his strength and his abilities, but the main thing was, you fought back." (132)

Sometimes, a novel is more important because of what it represents than the actual writing or the novel itself.  Set in World War II era Berlin, the novel tells the story of Otto and Anna Quangel, a working class couple, who decide they have to do something to oppose Hitler's regime after their son's death during the conquest of France.  The story itself was written in 1946/47, when the wounds were still rather fresh, and is inspired by a true story.  Hans Fallada was a prominent German writer prior to Hitler's rise, and at that time was probably best known for the novel Little Man, What Now? which is about a German couple living in Berlin during the Depression, whose lives just seem to get worse and worse yet do not despair.  When Hitler came to power, many German authors left Germany; others became part of the regime.  Fallada tried to straddle the middle - he stayed in Germany but attempted to write novels that would neither offend nor support the Nazis.  The afterword specifically mentions one novel he wrote and changed to appease the Nazis, the ending being somewhat supportive of the regime.  After the war ended, a friend gave him the Gestapo file on Otto and Elise Hamperl, a couple that started a postcard campaign against Hitler and eluded capture for almost two years, inspiring this novel.
 
This novel tells a very different story from what one usually sees in Holocaust or World War II literature.  The Quangels resist, but this isn't the type of effective, organized and inspiring resistance so often portrayed in novels.  Instead, it is the story of two working class people with little education and their campaign against the Nazis.  Every Sunday, Otto writes one or two postcards, calling on the German people to wake up and realize what is going on, decrying the actions of Hitler and the government, and on Monday or Tuesday, Otto and Anna leave these postcards in random buildings, hoping that someone will read them, pass them on and be called to action because of them.  As Fallada shows in his novel, Otto and Anna do not have the effect they believe they do - basically, every postcard gets promptly turned into the Gestapo or the authorities and the few that aren't are destroyed as soon as the person that found them realizes what they are reading.  Basically, Fallada chooses to tell the story of people that are basically completely ineffectual in their efforts, but are still risking their lives to do the right thing.  It's actually a very interesting perspective to tell a story from, and Fallada has various characters throughout the novel to compare and contrast with the Quangels.  For example, there is Trudel, the Quangels' son's former fiancee, who finds comfort in family life but begins to ask herself about her own complicity by not acting against the Nazis; Eva Kluge, the postwoman (and my favorite character) who leaves the Nazi Party after she is confronted with an atrocity that her son has committed; Judge Fromm who is guided by the concept of justice.  These are the people that do small things and take small stands but even these things can be dangerous.  On the other side of things are the thugs and opportunists that have gained power from the Nazi's ascent, and the small time crooks and informers that are at the bottom of society regardless of who is in charge.  Some of these characters are rather cartoonish, and incredibly selfish, but I actually liked that Fallada chose to tell a smaller story, and in a way focused his attentions on one small building in a working class neighborhood in Berlin.  Its inhabitants included the Quangels, the Persickes (ardent Nazis), Judge Fromm, Mrs. Rosenthal (a Jew), and the informer and thief in the basement while Eva Kluge was their postwoman.
 
Unfortunately, I didn't love the novel, though I wish I had.  Fallada has a very simple writing style, and it's easy to follow but I can't say I always like how he portrays people that much.  Having read Little Man, What Now? in college, I think I can honestly say it's just the author's style that doesn't do it for me - I'm not sure if it's Fallada's beliefs or his characters' beliefs but there is a certain amount of "men do this, women do that" in his novels that just prevents me from enjoying them more.  In some ways the relationship between Otto and Anna is very sweet, but in other ways, Otto is very stubborn and Anna gives in to him in ways I didn't like.  The women seem to be very melodramatic and given to grand statements (I feel like I saw this with Trudel especially).  I think it is a story that deserves to be told, and even if the Quangels/Hamperls didn't have any effect on the German populace, it is an affirming story to see that people will do the right thing even against impossible odds.  While I liked the way some of the story developed, in the end I think this novel is significant not because it is an outstanding novel but because of what it represents and the stories behind its creation.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Book 20: My Cousin Rachel

 
As much as I loved DuMaurier's novel Rebecca, in ways it has made me more hesitant to pick up more of DuMaurier's novels, afraid that they couldn't possibly live up to Rebecca.  I have had this novel for awhile now (in fact if Amazon is to be believed, I've had this novel for over three years, meaning it's moved with me from Germany to Virginia to Georgia to Illinois/Iowa) but the monthly keyword challenge is what finally inspired me to actually sit down and read it since it has a word related to the February keyword "family" in it.
 
My Cousin Rachel, like Rebecca, is a gothic novel, and this one is set in some undetermined time in 19th century England - a time when people used carriages and horses to go into town, when a letter from a different country took over three weeks to arrive, and telegrams and trains don't seem to exist or be in common usage yet.  The narrator, 24 year old Philip, has been raised by his cousin Ambrose in a house without women.  Ambrose was a bachelor for life, and didn't need any women around with their desire for order and cleanliness, and as a result, I didn't get the impression that Philip or Ambrose really understood them at all.  Due to health issues, Ambrose spends most winters on the continent, until one winter he visits Florence to explore the gardens, where he meets Rachel.  Philip only hears everything through letters, long delayed and occasionally sporadic, but Ambrose and Rachel get married, Ambrose extends his stay in Florence, and Philip feels jealous and neglected.  Eventually two letters arrive from Ambrose, both odd, alluding to illness, and carrying a certain tone of paranoia regarding Rachel, calling her his torment, claiming that she is watching and monitoring him.  Philip, being the loyal cousin that he is, races to Florence, only to discover that his cousin died three weeks previously, the letter only arriving after his departure, and Rachel has left the villa and the town.
 
Upon his return home, the will declares Philip heir to everything though he must remain under his godfather's guardianship until 25 years of age to ensure he is of sound moral character.  Philip blames Rachel for his cousin's death, thinking her a murderer, and is rather shocked when he hears she plans to visit his home soon.  Planning to confront her, he instead becomes fascinated by her, the woman in question not looking at like the woman he created in his mind.  During her stay, the reader continues to question what is going on.  Did Rachel poison Ambrose or did he die of natural causes?  His behavior was odd but Ambrose's own father died of a brain tumor with similar changes in attitude and personality.  I think this was the biggest difference to me between Rebecca and My Cousin Rachel - in Rebecca, I very definitely wanted to know about the past, and what mystery was being hidden on the grounds of Manderley while in the case of My Cousin Rachel I was more interested in how the relationships would develop.  Was Rachel a conniving murderer and opportunist?  Is she completely innocent?  Or is there some compromise between the two, where she may not resort to murder, but is certainly willing to manipulate people and situations for her benefit?  The interesting thing is that in a way I didn't even care because I actually quite liked Rachel, even though I was only getting Philip's perspective of her.  I didn't completely trust her, but I prefered her to Philip.
 
Even though he is the narrator, Philip does not come off in a good light at all.  Given his upbringing, not only does he not seem to understand women, he also has some views that could only be described as sexist and misogynistic, and not simply in the "he's a man in the 19th century" way.  Of course, I'm going to judge a character when he owns a library and says he doesn't spend much time reading.  He talks constantly about how awesome bachelor life with his cousin was, and how women just get in the way (of what?  your reading time that you don't use?  your hunting that you also don't seem to do?  walking around the estate restlessly?); he is also incredibly sheltered, having only ever left the estate to go to school, and then returned to the family home.  This isn't necessarily a bad thing but Philip seems to take glory in his unworldly ways, his lack of culture and also displays a certain amount of xenophobia (against those crazy Italians), showing little to no interest in expanding his horizons.  He often acts like a petulant child and is unwilling to take advice from others.  At first, he is ready to judge Rachel based on the letter from a sick man; later, when there is indeed reason to question her motives, he refuses to take anyone's advice and makes dramatic, thoughtless decisions.  Men in the novel refer to Rachel as impulsive repeatedly but as Philip's godfather rightly points out, that word applies just as much to him.
 
DuMaurier doesn't exactly give straight answers in this novel either - the end itself is up for question, and it's up to the reader to decide what they believe about Rachel, Ambrose and Philip.  From other reviews, I think I may have taken a more favorable view of Rachel then some others, but Philip honestly just pissed me off.  However, I think it worked for the novel because I wasn't rooting for him, and even I was questioning his decision making process in regards to Rachel.  Hopefully, it won't take me three more years to read another DuMaurier novel (is Jamaica Inn a good follow up?  I already have that one at home).

Monday, February 11, 2013

Book 18: The Forty Rules of Love

 
In retrospect, I don't think I've ever read anything else by a Turkish author before.  I tried to read Snow by Orhan Pamuk but gave up halfway through because the story seemed to be going nowhere at a snail's pace.  I am not sure why I bought this book.  It was definitely one of those that I picked up because it was highlighted in some way at the book store, only to realize that somehow the description I thought I read in the book store and the description I read at my house sounded like two completely different novels.  Mysticism?  Spirituality?  Wait, this isn't a romantic love story?
 
Anyway, having finally found some motivation to actually read this, I was pleasantly surprised by the novel, though in the end I also think it will end up being somewhat forgettable.  Ella Rubenstein, a forty year old New England housewife, has to read the unpublished novel Sweet Blasphemy as her first assignment for her new job with a literary agency.  The actual novel ends up flashing back and forth between Ella's life and the novel within the novel.  Sweet Blasphemy is the story of Shams of Tabriz and his friendship with Rumi, famous Persian poet and mystic.  When it begins, Shams, who has visions, realizes it is time to give up his solitude as a wandering dervish and to find a companion, someone whom he can teach all he has learned in his life and converse with.  He hears that the famous cleric Rumi is in search of a companion because while he is successful and has everything he might need in life, he still feels unsatisfied and unhappy.  Shams goes to Konya (in present day Turkey), and he and Rumi quickly strike up a friendship, with Shams challenging Rumi to see life in a different way and interact with the types of people he had never come into contact with before, including beggars, drunks and prostitutes.  At first, I had my doubts about this section, especially when I realized that Sweet Blasphemy was actually going to contain all forty rules of love - every time something would remind Shams of a rule, he would tell that person, "that's like one of the rules" and then quote it.  While it seemed very gimmicky, especially in the beginning, I actually ended up quite liking the historical novel part of this book.  The section are narrated by various people, including Rumi, Shams, Rumi's family, and various townspeople, and seeing the conflict that Shams brought into the town and the family was quite engaging.  The poor loved Shams, the rich and powerful felt he was challenging their status, and Rumi's family wasn't sure how to react - happy for Rumi, yet feeling left out and neglected.
 
The modern day story wasn't bad but Ella was a very bland character.  Due to her interest in the story that Aziz Z. Zahara is telling in Sweet Blasphemy, she googles** him, finds his blog and begins an online correspondence with him.  Ella has always been the kind of person that just goes with it, but she is now realizing that she isn't happily married, and she isn't in love with her husband anymore.  While I had no problem with her internal journey, I just didn't quite get her fascination with Aziz, a photographer and Sufi.  Honestly, Aziz sounds like one of those guys that might be cool in a novel but I would find him obnoxious and insufferable in real life.  I understand Ella's interest in him given how huge a contrast his life is from hers, but I couldn't quite see his interest in her, other than simply being a nice guy which is enough for a friendship, but not a love story.
 
Overall, this really was much better than I expected - while there is more religion than I would normally choose in a novel, it didn't seem overly preachy.  It was also somewhat new agey and the principles themselves were less about any particular religion as much as they were about god - as I said, those things are fine to see in a novel every once in a while even if I wouldn't actually want to hang out with anyone with New Age believes.  One of the author's previous novels was long-listed for the Orange Prize a few years back, so I definitely think I might check that one out, especially since that one is less focused on the mystical and spiritual based on descriptions.
 
*I know I usually link to Amazon but for some reason the novel is showing up as $199.00 on Amazon.
** Am I the only who thinks the fact that Gmail's spell check doesn't recognize the word "googles" is amusing - I could see Yahoo or MSN being against the word.

Friday, February 08, 2013

Book 17: Black Hearts

 
I've been meaning to read this book since I first heard about it three years ago when a friend of mine who had previously been stationed at Ft. Campbell was looking for it at Barnes and Noble.  She actually knew one of the Soldiers mentioned in the book, though I can't remember who specifically it was or what that person's role had been.  Still, knowing myself and how bad I am at actually reading things that could be considered part of my professional development, I waited for the book to come out in paperback before purchasing it, and then let it languish in my to read pile for a long period of time.  Last spring/summer, my BDE CDR at the time had all the company commanders read and watch War and Restrepo, and then had us get together to discuss them.  He said he planned to do it again, and that the next book would be Black Hearts.  I PCS'ed before that session occurred, but it was good to hear that my BDE CDR thought this would be a worthwhile read, especially since I already had the book.
 
I finally got around to reading it this month, and I have to say I really enjoyed it.  In fact, I prefer this book to Sebastian Junger's War, though War is the one I've seen referenced much more often and is definitely more well known.  As Frederick writes in the foreword, in June 2006, the kidnapping and killing of three US Soldiers made headlines in the United States.  Only a few weeks later, four Soldiers were implicated in the rape and murder of an Iraqi family.  It was only later that Frederick realized that both of these new stories involved men from the same platoon.  As a result, he became interested in discovering what exactly was going on in that one group of about 35 men that would lead to two events like this.  He begins by tracking down the men of 1st Platoon and interviewing them, but as his research and conversations progress, his circle widens, first to include interviews with men in the other platoons in the company, to discussions with the other companies in the battalion, and of course the battalion and brigade leadership.  He also talks to the Iraqi family's surviving relatives, and other Iraqis.
 
This book presents a rather clear picture and analysis of what happened over the course of the deployment to Bravo Company's 1st platoon.  He does a very good job of giving a balanced view, showing different perspectives and interpretations of events, and also letting the men speak for themselves.  As the events progress, it becomes clear that in many ways the platoon was dealing with the same kind of stuff as everyone else in the area but Bravo and Charlie Company both had the rougher areas of operation.  Initially, there wasn't anything too noticeable that distinguished 1st platoon from the rest of Bravo's platoons, though they did have younger leadership.  However, the platoon managed to get on the BC (battalion commander) and the sergeant major's radar early on for what they saw as lack of discipline, and from then on 1st platoon always faced more scrutiny.  In and of itself, this may have led the platoon to feel a bit more isolated or develop a "us against them" attitude, but when added with other factors they faced during the deployment, it became something much worse.  Circumstances and events piled up to lead to catastrophic events.   While all the platoons and companies had casualties, this platoon had some very critical ones within the first few months, losing personnel in key leadership positions.  As portrayed in the book, at this point, the platoon could have used an encouraging word from the battalion leadership, but instead received diatribes about how they were ate up and to blame.  In addition to combat losses, the platoon sergeant was moved and replaced, and the platoon had three different platoon sergeants between the end of December and the beginning of February.  None of this would have helped the men have any type of stability.  This doesn't excuse the actions of a few, and Frederick doesn't try to do this - instead he attempts to explain what happened, how it was even possible for four Soldiers to leave their posts and rape and kill a family, and places the incident in a larger context.
 
While I have been fortunate to have rather low key deployments, and I have always been on the support side of things (at my last duty station, I was in the support battalion of a light infantry brigade, but most of my daily interactions were with other loggies (logisticians)), I could definitely relate to some of parts of the book.  I completely understand the idea of not feeling like there are enough Soldiers to complete all the taskings, and having to deal with whether that was because my company was overburdened or because I wasn't managing personnel correctly - in the Iraqi Triangle of Death, this of course led to some huge issues.  While I could understand why the battalion might be telling them that they had enough personnel but weren't using them effectively, I still wondered why one of the senior staff couldn't have sat down with the companies then and provided some mentorship, going through the troop to task with them and show them how to use their Soldiers.  I could also relate to the different types of leadership styles I saw in the book.  CPT Bordwell, the Alpha commander, mentioned that when LTC Kunk arrived at the battalion, he was a huge change from their previous BC.  The previous one may have asked what the company was doing and be happy with "Army training, sir" while LTC Kunk would ask for specifics, such as how many water cans a company had.  It wasn't until later that Bordwell realized how important these other pieces were.  As a result, I can see where Kunk was using this to make a teaching point, but his approach made many people feel belittled.  I have also experienced a similar change in leadership, going from a more hands off approach to a detail oriented on; unlike Kunk, though my BC could be hard, he also was approachable, especially one on one, and he knew when the Soldiers needed a supportive word.  While in the end, the higher headquarter elements attempted to shift all the blame to the platoon and company level, it is also clear that some of the problems were leadership levels at a higher level.  Battalion and brigade failed the men, not listening when told that the platoon was combat ineffective following several casualties in December.  The Bravo commander cared about his men, but is portrayed as someone that became afraid to make decisions, and would spend far too much time in the TOC, afraid to miss anything.  While it is a leader's job to take care of Soldiers, there also must be a line where the leader takes care of himself - at some point, if the leader isn't sleeping or taking a few minutes for himself every once in a while, he will become ineffectual - you can't take care of anyone else if you are completely neglecting yourself.
 
I would definitely recommend this - I know I've seen tons of reviews for War on CBR over the years, and I think this would be another great book to read that talks about military culture, leadership and leadership failures, and some of the more challenging parts of modern warfare.  Personally, I think he explained the military acronyms and jargon very well, and the back of the book included a list of the different people mentioned by the unit they fell under which made it very helpful to remember where they fell in the grand scheme.  Of course, I don't know how accessible it will be to a civilian with no military experience, but it is worth a read.

Monday, February 04, 2013

Book 16: The Traitor's Wife

 
Originally published as The Wolves of Andover, this novel is a prequel to The Heretic's Daughter.  The heretic of the previous novel's title is the wife in this story, and it makes sense that they changed the title to reinforce the connection between the novels.  While I quite enjoyed The Heretic's Daughter, and how it explored life in a small community during colonial times, this novel was oddly structured.  Kathleen Kent is descended from Martha Carrier, one of the women to die during the Salem Witch Trials, and this novel attempts to give more of her back story.  The novel itself is fiction though inspired by family and local legends, including the question of Thomas Carrier's possible role as executioner of King Charles for Oliver Cromwell.  The problem seems to be that Kent decided that the courtship between Martha and Thomas wasn't enough for a full novel, and added in a story of political intrigue.  While she is probably correct in believing that the actual courtship couldn't have been expanded more, personally I think there would have been other ways to approach this, focusing on colonial life, even if it had simply been telling the story from a few more perspectives such as Patience, Martha's cousin, or Daniel, Patience's husband, for example.
 
Instead, the novel goes back and forth between chapters focused on Martha and chapters focused on King Charles II's special mission to track the traitor that killed his father in the Colonies.  Though Charles II has pardoned most of the people involved in the English Revolution, that pardon did not extend to people directly involved in his father's death, including judges and executioner.  Many of these are suspected to be hiding in plain sight in the Colonies but no extraction attempts have worked.  A spy master decides to send a group of five men to sneak up on Thomas Morgan, the executioner, suspected to be Thomas Carrier, and bring him back.  Unfortunately, the men chosen for this mission are a bunch of rough untrustworthy thugs so these chapters read more like a comedy of errors without the humor.  The story didn't add to the tension for me at all, because it just seemed like this mission was doomed for failure given the men's incompetence, not to mention that this is a prequel.  Additionally, each one of these chapters is told from a different perspective which also prevented me from getting too wrapped up in the story, given the lack of narrative continuity.
 
The novel was strongest when it focused on the story of Martha, the strong willed and sharp tongued daughter who gets to sent to her cousin's to work as a servant - and hopefully, meet a man that hasn't been driven off by her sharp tongue yet.  Martha is hard and harsh.  While I enjoy strong women, it took me a while to get used to her because in the beginning her behavior bordered on mean.  As I adjusted to the character, however, and she adjusted to her new surroundings, I became more interested in this part of the story.  Her relationship with Patience and its slow disintegration is well-written and very believable.  Unfortunately, as I said the novel was too mixed up about what it wanted to be - it failed as a story of intrigue but had too much in its pages to be a simple tale of domesticity and life in the colonies.  I wouldn't recommend this one unless the person has read Kent's previous novel and really needs to see how this went for themselves.

Friday, February 01, 2013

Book 13: Collapse

 
I read and enjoyed Jared Diamond's more well known book Guns, Germs and Steel a few years ago, though I thought he repeated himself a bit much on a few occasions.  I've been meaning to read Collapse for a while now, and I'm so glad I picked it up - if anything, it was even better than Guns, Germs and Steel, and while reading it could occasionally be depressing and bleak, I am very glad I read this, and really think it could end up as one of my favorites for the year. 
 
As the title implies, in this book, Diamond chooses to look at why certain societies have failed where others have succeeded and what sets them apart.  He comes up with a list of five factors that play a crucial role in the failure or success of societies, and these are environmental damage which includes things such as deforestation, soil erosion, etc, all of which are man made issues; climate change, such as droughts, floods, or dropping or rising temperatures; hostile neighbors; reduction in relationships with beneficial trade partners; and finally,  the culture's reaction to its problems.  All of these factors can contribute to why a society might fail, though only one of these factors could be enough to cause the collapse.  For example, he cites Carthage as a society that collapsed due to hostile neighbors (the Romans), but then discusses how an ill-timed drought could be the tipping point for a society that has already caused a large amount of environmental damage and is working with limited resources to begin with.
 
While Diamond spends a majority of his time discussing failed cultures, he opens the book with a long chapter about Montana, using Montana as an example of environmental issues that face many different areas.  While he discusses Montana, much of it seems bad, but he says that in many ways, Montana is better off than others.  Having given the issues societies face a personal face, he then discusses several societies that have collapsed, and where we don't have that personal connection, using archaeological evidence to determine the fates of these now defunct civilizations (also, while in some cases, collapse meant everyone died, in many it just means that particular society collapsed, some people survived but without the large system that had previously existed such as the Mayas, or they were absorbed into nearby communities, such as the present day Hopis being partially descended from surviving Anasazi).  He chooses several different examples, all of which illustrate different points of his argument - for example, Easter Island was very isolated so they would not have been affected by diminishing trade relationships with trade partners or hostile neighbors (except for each other on the island).  Henderson Island and Pitcairn Island, on the other hand, were very small communities that relied heavily on trade with a third island, Mangareva.  When Mangareva's society collapsed, Henderson and Pitcairn soon followed, unable to support themselves on their small islands without the resources from the larger island.  In the case of the Anasazi and the Mayans, climate changes played a role.  While both groups had survived droughts before, by the time the droughts that led to their final collapse occurred, populations had grown and other resources had been diminished so that something that would have once been difficult suddenly became impossible to overcome - especially since neither one of these groups appear to have written accounts of weather (surviving Mayan writings focus on the leaders, not the weather), and therefore had no historical records to refer to (obviously, it is unknown what may have been in their oral histories).
 
He spends the largest majority of time on the collapse on Norse Greenland because not only is there more of a record (and given their European Christian background, it is easier to determine cultural influences that played a role in their decision-making process), but it provides an example of a society that was affected by all five of the factors.  Additionally, there are places to compare it to since Norse Greenland is one of six colonies from Viking Norway, the others of which survived, because their environment was less fragile, and they were less remote.  Still, Iceland could easily have faced a similar collapse, but it realized how it was destroying its environment, and changed its ways.  It was one of the poorest communities for a long time, but it hung on.  Norse Greenland, on the other hand, was the most remote, and as time progressed, Europe lost interest partially because one of the trade goods that Greenland provided (walrus tusks) was no longer needed or in demand.  This meant that this society, which already had a shortage of lumber and metal, was on its own.  While the Norse were able to succeed for over four hundred years, eventually their European life style and farming methods could not be sustained.  Inuit societies (which may have also been an example of hostile neighbors) have survived on Greenland though often facing starvation, so it wasn't impossible to live on the island, but the Norse lifestyle wasn't sustainable without some changes or adjustments they were either unwilling to make or simply couldn't determine.
 
After discussing some societies that have dealt well with their resources, and survived for long periods of time, including a small island that practiced population control for much of its existence (of course, as soon as Christians spread their message, the island no longer used its methods of keeping the population down, which included abortion and contraception, grew by 50% and faced a famine - after emergency evacuation, the island has a set limit on population allowed on the island), Diamond shifted to the current day, and looked at four examples of societies that are facing some rather severe environmental issues.  He chose Rwanda, the Dominican Republic and Haiti (as two countries sharing one island, they worked rather well to compare but also show how different nations influence each other especially in this time of globalization), China and Australia, a country with an incredibly fragile environment.  Many of the issues facing these countries, and the world at large, are rather bleak and somewhat frightening: much of the world has issues with deforestation which leads to soil erosion which means even less can grow there; forests and fisheries aren't well managed and treated as one time resources, being completely logged or fished rather than seen as something that could be renewable if only used at a proper rate; countless species have been driven to extinction due to loss of habitat, over-hunting, or human imported pests.  While some countries have very low population growth, others do not, and even the ones that don't are all trying to achieve first world living standards.  For example, China's population is growing at minimum rates, but given its people's desire to achieve first world standards, its impact on the world is still growing.  It basically seems like humans have come close to using up everything they can, and if things continue, everything could go very badly.  Many effects aren't even being felt yet, or will still be felt for years even if appropriate repercussions are taken now.  Some first world countries are preserving their resources but basically destroying other countries' resources in the process (Japan imports its wood from Australia).
 
Still, Diamond ends his book with what he describes as cautious hope: while many things seem bleak, lots of countries are realizing the costs and taking action (top-down), and many citizens as well are coming together and creating bottom up initiatives.  While consumers may not be able to directly affect some industries, they can affect the companies that buy from these industries, such as putting pressure on Tiffany's to buy from gold mining companies that have better environmental policies.  They can also vote for the politicians with the better record and policies.  It is much cheaper for companies to implement procedures that protect the environment than to clean it up later, as Diamond also demonstrated with the example of a very well run Chevron oil site.  Reading this book really has helped put the environmental damage into perspective and the necessity for action.  While Diamond is hopeful, I myself am concerned, especially watching the politics in current day America, where even the idea of birth control seems to cause controversy in some areas, and any type of regulation is considered anti-business.  This book is incredibly well-written, interesting, and relevant.  I would highly recommend it to just about anyone, especially if they don't mind the occasional denser nonfiction book.

Monday, January 28, 2013

Book 12: The Winter Ghosts

 
I try to be much more discerning about books I purchase nowadays, meaning I'll get a pile together, and sit at the cafe with some coffee, read a few pages to see if I like the writing style while also looking at ratings on Amazon or Goodreads.  I don't do it with every book, and sometimes I like the premise of the novel so I'll just decide to give it a chance without the screening process, but I figure I need to stop buying so many books that then end up in my growing to read pile (actually I have a to read pile that I really consider books I want to read soon, and then a whole other, larger stack of books that I have and will read eventually if that makes any sense).  I bought this one over a year ago, before I had started being quite so picky because it mentioned World War I in the description.  I read a lot of novels about or related to World War II, but World War I interests me as well; I just don't think it grabbed the American imagination in quite the same way and don't always see as many novels or books in general on the topic.  I just couldn't get into this novel a year ago but I think that had more to do with my mood at the time.  Due to the Keyword Challenge, I decided to give it another shot this month since it contains the keyword "winter" in the title.  I looked it up on Goodreads before I started reading only to discover that this was a ghost story!  You'd think maybe the word "ghosts" in the title, and the fact that the back description talks about people being haunted would have clued me in, but I thought they were metaphorical ghosts and that people were haunted by the past, not by actual ghosts (also I never read the quotes from magazines or other authors because just like movies, there is always going to be someone willing to say positive things about even horrible novels).  I'm glad I figured that out before I started reading this, because it definitely would have been unexpected and surprising otherwise.
 
Bones and shadows and dust.  I am the last.  The others have slipped away into darkness.  Around me now, at the end of my days, only an echo in the still air of the memory of those who once I loved. (p. 9)
 
I am having a hard time really deciding how I felt this novel.  The majority of the novel is a flashback to 1928 in the French Pyrenees area, though it opens and closes in 1933.  In 1933, Freddie enters a bookstore because he wants its owner to translate an old piece of parchment written in Occitan for him.  The rest of the novel is his explanation of how this document came into his possession.  In 1928, our 27 year old narrator is traveling through France, still grieving his brother's death which occurred 11 years before.  Freddie was too young to fight in World War I, but his brother and a majority of his unit were killed in battle in 1916.  As the second, much younger brother, Freddie never had a substantial relationship with his parents, and George's death hit him especially hard, though he was unable to get any comfort from his parents.  He is now drifting, trying to move on but also not quite wanting to let go, and unable to understand how everyone else can be looking forward, to the future.  He understands that his grief isn't unique, that just about everyone lost someone in this war, but he still feels isolated and disconnected.
 
Following a car accident, Freddie ends up in a small village, Nulle, off the beaten path, and is invited to the yearly festival that happens to be occurring that night.  While at the festival, he meets a woman, Fabrissa, and feels more interested in his surroundings and life than he has in a long time.  He is completely fascinated by Fabrissa, enjoys their conversation, and eventually they share their stories of loss.  The novel is very slow moving, meandering even, and the ghost story and plot are incredibly obvious and straighforward to everyone but Freddie.  The author does have a nice turn of phrase, and while the novel is 263 pages, given the amount of indentation on the pages and the font size, it really is probably only half to two thirds that long.  On the one hand, it's almost impossible to say much about the story without feeling like it's a spoiler but on the other hand it doesn't feel like a spoiler because it is obvious what is going on.  I've seen many reviews describing this as a classic ghost story, and while I get that, I prefer my ghost stories with a little bit of mystery.  I like the ones where the protagonists have to do research to determine the identity of the spirit, and then more research to find out what happened to that person.  They don't have to be scary, but as I said, I like that sense of revelation as the story progresses.  The reason I think this is labeled as a classic ghost story is because Freddie finds himself transported into a different time, witnessing events (even if he doesn't realize it), and I at least got the sense that this was a "one night of the year" kind of situation.
 
In medieval times, the Pyrenees served as a type of center and refuge for Cathars, members of a heresy that the Catholic Church disagreed with, and this faith group was eventually persecuted to extinction.  While Mosse alludes to the region's history, she doesn't explain much.  I thought that was fine for the novel itself, but when she discusses her inspiration for this story in the afterword, I wished she would have added a paragraphs or two about what the Cathars actually believed, what their heresy was etc.  I looked on Wikipedia and it didn't give much of an answer instead focusing on the wars and the persecution, not so much what they were being persecuted for - I gather this is partially because the Catholic Church did such a good job of rooting them out and destroying them that not too many specifics are known.  Overall, I think this novel would have worked much better as a short story - there just wasn't quite enough there to justify an entire novel (and as a matter of fact, this is actually the author expanding on a short story she had previously written).  What is there is very straightforward, though I kind of liked it.  I would also say while Freddie was a bit longwinded and needed to get to the point a bit more quickly, there are some rather well written sentences in here.  While I don't think I'd recommend this one, I am still curious about the author's other novels.  I am not sure what that means since usually if I don't like a novel or feel either very apathetic or ambivalent about it, I have no interest in anything else by that author, so I guess there must have been something here to hold my interest even if I can't quite place my fingers on it.  Then again, it may just be as simple as the fact that her other novels also address the Cathars and my interest in the subject is now picqued.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Book 11: The Distant Hours

 
I have only read one other Kate Morton novel before which also happened to be her first, The House at Riverton.  While I enjoyed it at the time, it also seemed a bit deriviative, reminding me strongly of other gothic fiction, and even part of the twist was something I had seen recently before.  As a result. I wasn't in a hurry to pick up any of her other novels, though I was curious to see how she had developed as a writer and often found myself lingering over her novels at bookstores but always put the novels back down, thinking of her as a back up.  Similarly, once I bought this book, I still kept picking other novels in my pile first.  It's not that I wasn't expecting a good read but it just never seemed like quite what I wanted.
 
Of course, it is gothic fiction so naturally there is an old ancestral home or castle, a family secret, the hints of a tragedy, and a love story gone wrong.  She basically captures all the elements, and there is a twist when all the secrets are revealed - that's basically the genre; if there weren't a twist and decades old secrets, it wouldn't be gothic fiction.  At the end, it is hard to feel anything but sad about some of the circumstances and not think "what a waste" regarding the characters' lives and outcomes.  The novel starts out when Edith's mother, Meredith, receives a letter from over 50 years before that had been misdirected (or mislaid).  Though she won't share its contents with her daughter, her reaction leaves an impression on Edie, and it starts her quest to learn more about her mother.  Edie and Meredith do not have a very sharing relationship, and Edie has felt misunderstood for much of her life.  Prior to this letter, she didn't even know that her mother had lived in a castle, Milderhurst, for over a year during WWII when parents from the cities evacuated their children to the country due to the bomb threat.  The novel begins as a daughter's quest to know her mother, and when she finds herself in the proximity to Milderhurst after an out of town meeting, she takes a tour and meets the Blythe sisters, the older twins Percy (Persephone) and Saffy (Seraphina) and their younger sister, Juniper, the author of the letter that started the novel.  Percy and Saffy are from the first marriage and about sixteen years older than their sister Juniper, who was once a promising writer but has gone mad because of a disappointment: a man she loved never showed up, leaving only a letter saying he had married someone else.
 
Edie, a book lover, is fascinated by the sisters, the castle, and the past, and begins to slowly dig to find out more about the disappointment that Juniper experienced - as her mother tells her, people don't go mad due to disappointment, and as much as Edie, lover of gothic fiction and romance, may like the idea of going mad due to lost love, she also soon admits that it is a bit fantastical.  One of the first things Edie learns about Milderhurst is that the sisters' father was Raymond Blythe, author of The True History of the Mud Man, one of the first books to turn her into a reader and a childhood favorite.  She mentions that Raymond Blythe's inspiration for the novel has never been determined so in addition to the mystery of the sisters and the missing lover, there is a bit of a literary mystery in the later half of the novel.  She eventually gets an opportunity to return to the castle (she refers to it early on) to help satisfy some of her curiousity.
 
Kate Morton's characters are very well drawn, and having read novels like Atonement, I feared what Meredith's involvement could possibly be in this mystery.  While the resolution was perhaps a bit by the numbers (at least parts of it), Morton's development towards the big reveal was superbly done, and I quite enjoyed exploring the different relationships, and watching as Edie began to gain new perspectives on her mother, and her mother's relationship with her family.  Percy is also a character it is hard to get a handle on because there are some differences between her 1992, her 1941 and her 1939 character, though the reasons for this all become clear as the sections progress.  The only character I occasionally got irritated with was Edie.  While I could relate to her love of books, I got a little annoyed with her whining about how she never felt understood because she liked books, and no one else in her family did.  She also mentions that her parents had a boy before her who died either when she was very young or before she was born - either way, she has no memory of him but talks about missing him and wondering what he would be like and what type of relationship they would have had, even using it to say she could understand another character's bond with her siblings.  I'm sure this is because I can't quite relate - my mom and I have a relatively close relationship, and talk regularly (I mean, I was never in the habit of calling her and telling her about crushes, but I would discuss actual relationships; I have also never referred to my mom as my best friend) so it is hard for me to understand the distance between her and her mother sometimes.  Additionally, I think I would have understood the sibling thing more if she had ever actually interacted with her brother, and it was an actual loss to her rather than just a question of what it would have been like, and I think this also goes back to the fact that I'm an only child and have always loved being an only child.  I wasn't that kid that asked her parents for a sibling - I was the one that emphatically told them she didn't want one.
 
Still, while the novel may have occasionally dwelt more on Edie's present day life and her problems (no apartment, no boyfriend), the majority of the novel was well written and an enjoyable read.  I liked most of the characters, and felt like the story was very well drawn; while I was expecting a big reveal at the end, I liked the way it built into the story, and added depth and a certain amount of irony to the events.  It really was perfect for curling up on the couch with some hot chocolate while it was 0 degrees Fahrenheit - except for the fact that I have been having some serious issues lately with finding a brand of hot chocolate I actually really like.