Books in November

Dec 02, 2021 09:26

So I'm a day late posting this, not that it makes any difference!

The new President, Douglas Williams, has surprised everybody by appointing Ellen Adams to be his Secretary of State. Adams is from the private sector, a multimedia conglomerate to be specific, and she had used all her considerable resources to prevent Doug from being nominated and winning the Presidency; before too long, she’s aware that Williams wants nothing more than to see her humiliated on the world stage, regardless of the potential damage to the US’s reputation that might cause. Indeed, payback is a bitch. But when a series of rapidly escalating emergencies occur around the world, Adams and Williams must find a way to work together in a race against time to prevent a catastrophic event…. I’m not a fan of political thrillers, they just aren’t my cup of tea. But I adore Louise Penny’s writing and when I heard a review on the radio that indicated that her beloved series character, Armand Gamache, makes an appearance in this book, I couldn’t resist. I can’t really evaluate how this book stacks up against other political thrillers, but I can say that it’s very fast-paced, keeps the reader riveted and spells out some of the inner workings of the highest levels of government thanks to Secretary Clinton’s contributions. The writing style is pretty classic Penny - short chopped sentences, moments of philosophical and spiritual grace, and strong relationships between the characters (in particular between Ellen Adams and her best friend/counselor Betsy Jameson) - all of which might be off-putting to some but which I appreciate. I am a bit curious as to how fans of the genre who don’t know Penny’s other work react to the appearance of Armand Gamache, as it felt to me both out of place and perfect at the same time. I’ll leave it to others to rate this as a political thriller and just say that I enjoyed it as a one-off, though I won’t race out to find other books in the genre.

Kate Shackleton and members of the amateur photography group to which she belongs are headed out for a field trip to the village of Haworth where the Bronte Society is about to receive the Haworth Parsonage to create a museum. There are numerous entanglements among the seven photographers, and when one of them is found to have been stabbed to death while standing in a crush of people attending the ceremonies related to the Parsonage, it is up to Kate to resolve the relationships and point toward a murderer…. I am enjoying the Kate Shackleton series, especially for its depiction of life in England in the 1920s. Here, the art of photography as a popular pastime for amateurs, the social ramifications of illicit relationships and the ways in which husbands and fathers control the lives of wives and daughters despite the fact that women are fully emancipated by this date, all combine with literary and landscape portraitures to recreate a place and time not really that different from our own; recommended.

Kate Shackleton is called in by New Scotland Yard to try to help them identify the body of a man found on a train carrying rhubarb from the north to London; the body is naked and there are no clues as to his identity or background, but because Scotland Yard has heard good things about her detective work, it’s thought that she might make inroads where the professionals have not. At the same time, a female shopkeeper has been found brutally murdered in her store; the orphan whom she took in is found with blood on his hands and it is convenient to believe he murdered her, although nobody who knows the individuals involved believe it. Since this murder occurred on land owned by some friends of Kate’s, landed gentry with interests in mining and the railroad, among other businesses, she thinks it will be most helpful if she stays with them while trying to suss out the land; she little knows just how much her friends might be involved…. In this, the 11th in this intriguing series set in 1920s England, we learn all about “forced rhubarb” farming and how integral mining and farming are to rural communities. There are, in addition, a number of orphans feature in this story and the descriptions of their circumstances are utterly heartbreaking; one hopes things have improved in the 100 years since then! Recommended.

Kate Shackleton has an appointment with William Lofthouse, a brewer with a much young artist wife and an errant nephew who is to be his heir; there have been some minor financial problems with the business and William would like Kate - or rather, her male associate Jim Sykes - to delve into the accounts so that he can be sure that everything is ship-shape for his nephew to take over. Kate is happy to oblige, but soon the problems multiply, including the sudden death of William’s treasured secretary, who is struck by a car while riding her bicycle. Since the secretary had been quite desperate to talk to William about something, and been prevented from doing so by this accident, Kate is immediately suspicious and, of course, her suspicions are well-founded…. This is the 12th and most recent of the Kate Shackleton series and like the others is well-researched, this time diving into the intricacies of brewing beer, the problem of homelessness in the late 1920s and the rise of beauty contests to dub a “queen” for a given product, a young woman who serves as a walking advertisement for the product. I felt that the initial mystery was given rather short shrift in this one, in that the killer is named early on and the matter is then dropped for the rest of the book; aside from that misstep, though, there is plenty here to keep a reader’s interest. I’ve read the whole series over the past month or so, and will look forward to its next entry (due to be published in 2022); in the meantime, I would recommend the series to anyone who is interested in 1920s rural England, or who just likes a good mystery!

In 1999, Bill Bryson toured Australia with the aim of publishing this book in time for the 2000 Olympics held in Sydney; in it, he shares stories of his encounters with the people, places, fauna, flora and environments of the vast country, some of them poignant and many quite funny. A jarring note is the occasional foray into the history of European contact with Aboriginal cultures, truly horrendous behaviour that anyone conversant with the European conquests of much of the rest of the world will recognize; these passages seem quite out of step with the rest of the book. It is also quite out of date in some respects, specifically the situation of Uluru (Bryson alternates between using that name and Ayers Rock), since climbing the sacred site has been forbidden since 2019. But in terms of describing some of the oldest landscapes and strangest creatures on the planet, this book is quite entertaining. So, a mixed review from me.

When Things Get Dark: Stories Inspired by Shirley Jackson is an all-original anthology of 18 stories that editor Ellen Datlow felt invoked the spirit of the great writer, Shirley Jackson. I love Ms. Jackson’s work (especially “We Have Always Lived in the Castle,” which I re-read every few years) and I have huge respect for Ms. Datlow’s skills as an editor, so this collection was a must-read for me. I’m not sure that I picked up on the Jackson mystique in some of these stories, while others felt like she might have written them herself. Ranging from small slices of life that carry a punch (M. Rickert’s “Funeral Birds,” about a home health aide who likes to attend the funerals of her clients; “Take Me, I Am Free,” by Joyce Carol Oates who is, I think a true heir of Ms. Jackson; Richard Kadrey’s “A Trip to Paris,” where a widow is not what she seems) to supernatural-ish horror (“For Sale By Owner,” by Elizabeth Hand, which features three aging women; Karen Heuler’s “Money of the Dead,” which details how neighbours get what they ask for; Laird Barron’s “Tiptoe,” depicting a boy’s childhood with a predatory father) and beyond, there’s something for everyone here. My favourites include Genevieve Valentine’s “Sooner Or Later, Your Wife Will Drive Home,” comprising brief but vivid snapshots of the dangers to women of driving alone; “In the Deep Woods: The Light Is Different There,” by Seanan McGuire, which seems straightforward enough but which ends up being absolutely magical; and Kelly Link’s “Skinder’s Veil,” describing what it’s like to house-sit for Death. If you don’t know Shirley Jackson’s work, these stories might give you a way into her world, and if you do know it, you will probably be as enchanted with this volume as I am; recommended!

Republic of Detours: How the New Deal Paid Broke Writers to Rediscover America chronicles a little-remembered chapter of FDR’s New Deal: the formation of the Federal Writers’ Project, which was a division of the Works Progress Administration (WPA) that saw unemployed workers become federal employees engaged in tasks such as building highways, repairing bridges and the like. The FWP did the same for unemployed writers of all stripes, from newspaper journalists to novelists to people in advertising; its stated intent, beyond providing employment to hundreds of thousands of workers during the Depression, was to create travel guides to each of the then-48 States. The book is divided into six “tours,” each illustrating how the project worked (and didn’t work) in various States and what sorts of obstacles each faced, from drunken employees to racism to a House committee, forerunner to HUAC, that strove to paint all FWP workers as communists and worse. Each section is informative and entertaining, and the book as a whole reminds readers that the period between the two World Wars was, in America and around the world, an era of turmoil and revolutionary zeal (similar to our world today, except that the revolutionary stances were primarily on the left rather than on the right of the political spectrum); happily for me, the work is thoroughly documented, with the footnotes at the end of the book comprising something like a third of the volume. There are also photographs of some of the key players, including Zora Neale Thurston, Richard Wright and Nelson Algren, names that modern readers might recognize. Really fascinating stuff; recommended.

Terry Mosher, aka Aislin, is a political cartoonist from Montreal, whose cartoons grace the editorial pages of the Montreal Gazette. Here, he has gathered cartoons from all over the world to present the pandemic through the cartoonists’ eyes; there are more than 100 cartoonists from 38 countries whose work is represented here. Such a book is obviously not meant to be raced through front-to-back, but rather to be savoured a few cartoons at a time, and it works very well both as a compendium about life during COVID-19 and an introduction to cartoonists whose work one otherwise would not have seen. I’m not sure how available it is; I obtained copies through local Montreal bookstores, and I think it can be bought at Aislin’s website (www.aislin.com); a percentage of the proceeds will go to a local hospital to aid in its ongoing efforts to provide healthcare to the community, and Aislin is hoping that some of the cartoonists represented here will be able to compile their own books with a similar goal in mind. Making light of an extreme emergency isn’t easy, but these people know how it’s done; recommended!

I fondly remember a book from decades ago compiled by Jon Winokur called “The Portable Curmudgeon,” which gleaned pithy and often sarcastic quotes from various sources, so when I saw the title of “A Curmudgeon’s Guide to Postmodern Times: Aphorisms,” I assumed it would be similar, and similarly enjoyable. Alas, this is a vanity press project by Richard Greene in which he quotes himself from his old poetry or makes up new lines that he thinks clever. The “sayings” are divided into chapters such as “Human Nature,” “Economics,” “Materialism,” “Advice” and “Etcetera,” and while there may be an amusing line here or there, there’s really nothing much to this book.

Let's hope for lots of snow and no ice in December!
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