Saturday, July 27, 2019

Dog Days Diversions and A Few More Serious Works

It may not quite be the dog days of summer yet, but lately it has felt like it--and I amused myself with the alliteration. After all the nonfiction I was reading earlier this summer, I decided to go for some fluff--mostly but not entirely mysteries (the mysteries ran to the very dark with a strong dysfunctional marriage theme, so not as fluffy as I might have hoped). And I read a few nonfiction books, too (what is happening to me?).

Fluff

Lady in the Lake, by Laura Lippman. This Lippman stand-alone is the story of two Baltimore women in the 1960s. Madeline Schwartz is white, wealthy (until she leaves her husband), and trying to find herself by becoming a newspaper reporter. Cleo Sherwood is black, scraping by, and trying to find a man who can fulfill her. Along with these differences, Madeline is alive, and Cleo announces her own death early in the book. We get to know both Maddie and Cleo well, but we also hear from numerous other characters whose lives intersect with Maddie's as she tries to establish herself and determine who is responsible for Cleo's death--a story that is of little interest to the editors at her paper. The racism and sexism of the time are clear in the challenges that Maddie deals with and Cleo had to face in her brief life. There's one spot near the end that I thought was a weak way to do some explicating, but otherwise I really enjoyed this book.

The Chain, by Adrian McKinty. This book, which has gotten a lot of positive ink, has a very disturbing premise: A child is kidnapped. The parents are told that to get their child back, they must pay a ransom and kidnap another child, who they hold until the parents of that child pay a ransom and kidnap another child, and on and on. They do get their children back, but sometimes they may be required to do additional "jobs" for the operators of The Chain and risk their families being annihilated if they refuse or tell anyone. While reading the book, one cannot help asking oneself: What would you do to get your child back? The answer for the protagonist, a recently divorced woman just out of treatment for cancer, is completely transform herself into a ruthless person. I can't say I exactly enjoyed the book, but it held my interest.

Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors, by Sonali Dev. This is not a mystery, but it is rather delightful fluff. It's a retelling of Pride and Prejudice, set in an Indian-American community in Northern California with the gender roles reversed--the female protagonist is a neuro-surgeon from a wealthy, well-educated family, whose oldest child is running for governor, while the male character is a chef with a desperately ill artist-sister who paints vaginas. It's utterly predictable but still fun--and perhaps the only book I've read in which eating is depicted as an orgasmic experience.

Big Sky, by Kate Atkinson. Atkinson is a serious writer, but her Jackson Brodie mystery series, of which this title is a part, is up and down. Big Sky was more down than up--there are a lot of characters (not unusual for an Atkinson book), many of whom are unlikable and seem to have little to do with each other. Most of them come together at the end as Jackson solves years-old and current child trafficking cases. Unfortunately, by then I didn't much care--but Atkinson is always merits a few sentences. Maybe Jackson should retire and the writer should focus on her more serious writing, which has produced some exemplary work.

Not worth a complete sentence:

The Tale Teller, by Anne Hillerman -- A decent entry in Hillerman's continuation of her father's series.
The Silent Wife, by A.S.A. Harriss -- Shame on Kate Atkinson for giving this a glowing blurb.
Since We Fell, by Dennis Lehane -- Shares with The Silent Wife a really dysfunctional marriage.
Blood Orange, by Harriet Tyce -- See comment on Since We Fell.
Watch Me Disappear, by Janelle Brown -- Ditto.
My Lovely Wife, by Samantha Downing -- Is a lovely couple who kidnaps and kills women together by definition dysfunctional? Hmmm. (Sorry that was a complete sentence.)
The Sleeping Beauty Killer, by Mary Higgins Clark and Alafair Burke -- Dumb and predictable.
The King Tides, by James Swain -- Nonsensical.
Crosstalk, by Connie Willis -- Indefensibly long (and so silly).

Non-Fluff

If I Understood You, Would I Have This Look on My Face? by Alan Alda. Alda, a truly remarkable human being, discusses the need for better communication in general and in science and medicine particularly. He also shares  research on communication and looks at how acting exercises (particularly improv) can be useful in developing communication skills. He also describes the work he and others have done at the Alan Alda Center for Communicating Science at Stony Brook University. It's fascinating and well-communicated--and the audio version is read by Alda, who charms as he communicates.

Shout, by Laurie Halse Anderson. Shout is a memoir that examines the traumas of Anderson's youth--she was raped at 13 and lived in a home with alcoholic parents (her father also had PTSD). A year in Denmark as an exchange student may well have saved Anderson's life. She built a family and a successful writing career. Because her best-selling YA novel Speak dealt with teen rape, she is a frequent speaker at schools. Shout recounts one experience when a school principal pulled the fire alarm to prevent her from speaking to a second group of students after he heard her first presentation--denial that allows rape culture to continue is alive and well! Some of the short poems that comprise the book are moving, some less so--but the book is well worth reading. 

Working, by Robert Caro. Caro's career has been dedicated to documenting the lives of Robert Moses and Lyndon Johnson (he is still working on the fifth volume on Johnson). This book allows him to insert himself into that work, something he normally tries not to do. He does this by documenting how he conducted the research on the biographies and how he responded to what he learned. One of the most compelling stories he tells is about an interview with Lady Bird Johnson in which he asked her about a woman named Alice Glass, who was not only LBJ's lover but had enormous influence on the man; Caro recounts being unable to look at Lady Bird as he asked questions and she responded. What he makes clear about Johnson is what a complex and flawed man he was--he stole at least one election, manipulated people cruelly, exacerbated the mess in Vietnam, and yet his accomplishments domestically were unparalleled. Caro, like me, finds Johnson's civil rights speech one of the greatest presidential speeches ever--it's tragic that the "better angels" of his nature could not prevail over his other side.

Favorite Passages

untreated pain
is a cancer of the soul
that can kill you

Sisters, drop
everything. Walk
away from the lake, leaning
on each other's shoulders
when you need
the support. Feel the contractions
of another truth ready
to be born: shame
turned
inside out
is rage.

Shout, by Laurie Halse Anderson

What happened in Selma is part of a far larger movement which reaches into every section and State of America. It is the effort of American Negroes to secure for themselves the full blessings of American life.

Their cause must be our cause too. Because it is not just Negroes, but really it is all of us, who must overcome the crippling legacy of bigotry and injustice.

And we shall overcome.

Lyndon B. Johnson, quoted by Robert Caro in Working


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